Work Text:
Fly high, Oikawa Tooru.
When the world weighs down on his shoulders, he confides in one of his only true friends, time and time again. The little teacup in his heart bubbles and bubbles with his self-loathing until it bursts out in the form of endless tears.
Harsh words forgotten and instead replaced with a shoulder to cry on in unspoken solidarity.
I understand, Tooru.
Quit forcing yourself to bottle all your emotions up.
It’s okay to cry.
I’m here for you.
By day, he’s Oikawa Tooru. He is the epitome of confidence and passion. The one who can bring out the best in his teammates and be the star of the show. Overwhelmed with fan and peer praise and pressure alike. He takes it all in stride and with a broad smile on his sweaty yet still-so-fucking-beautifully chiseled face. (Don’t tell him I said that.)
By night, he’s still Oikawa Tooru. But during such a private, intimate time of his life, he’s softer and less excitable and almost peaceful. He doesn’t try to hide his emotions with big smiles and animated waves to make fans swoon. In their place, miniscule smiles and eyes filled with so much love and joy. There are no expectations to live up to and nobody to impress.
Just two.
Two people dancing around each other. The time spent together is short but ethereal.
I wish we could spend forever together.
The night ends with falling asleep in each other’s arms, and both hoping that darkness would walk on.
But the next day comes and the sun shines bright without sympathy for broken souls, and the two go their separate ways. When night covers the sky like a blanket, they meet again and attempt to amend their cracked, broken teacups.
People pour boiling water in his teacup, and he can’t take it. It’s too hot.
Hot.
Hot.
I’m burning up.
The little teacup in his heart bubbles and bubbles with the expectations and pressure until it breaks.
We are broken.
Years ahead, the little teacup in his heart is still broken, but he smiles and smiles until all the pain goes away. Smiles that are real(for the most part. I know when he’s fucking faking). Smiles that are only directed at one person.
Hah.
Fly high, Oikawa Tooru.