Oikawa discovers on a lovely morning (3 am) that it’s very difficult to avoid mosquitoes after falling down the stairs and cursing out a not-broken-but-useless-so-what’s-the-difference knee. Eventually the annoying blood suckers win out and he ends up phoning Iwaizumi to please, please praise his pretty heart, pick him up.
Iwaizumi comes with a furious scowl and curses.
“Damn it Trashkawa, what were you thinking? You already know you’re hurt, so stop being an idiot and training at ungodly early hours!”
“Rude, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa shoots back, except Iwaizumi gives him that look. Not the stop-being-an-idiot-in-public look or the stop-being-an-idiot-in-private look number 3.2, but that one. The one that makes Oikawa feel like dirt.
Not that he’d ever tell Iwa-chan.
“Iwaa-chaan!” He manages instead, pouting as he wriggles. The stairs are hard, okay, and he’s pretty sure after lying forty minutes on them that he has rectangles imprinted onto his sides.
“What, shittykawa?” But Iwaizumi knows exactly what because the next moment he’s pulling Oikawa up by the arms and into his. Sighing at the pleasant warmth and the ability to stop crushing his knee with his weight, Oikawa sags into Iwaizumi’s arms.
“Thank you… cutie.” Predictably, Iwa-chan takes the next moment to hit him. Which, mean! Hitting an injured person—what kind of demon had Oikawa friended?
“Shut up, sweetie.” Iwaizumi growls softly. It’s not very effective when he’s half dragging Oikawa in his arms, eventually just shifting to take on his friend’s entire weight. How sweet, really.
Exhaustion eventually climbs into his body, and though its early morning and they have school only a few hours from now, he lets Iwaizumi drag him along back home. He’s not certain which home it’s going to be—his or Iwa-chan’s, but honestly he’s not awake enough to question it. They’re almost onto their neighborhood, Oikawa tottering with drowsy eyes and Iwaizumi resolute when he hears it.
“You’re good enough already.”
He spends the next three hours in bed awake.