Chapter Text
It wasn’t too often the members of Aobajohsai got to have major time off, let alone major time off where they could have fun that didn't involve volleyball. Though their options were limited depending on the day, there were rare weekends where they were given the gift of "normal" teenage things. Like high school parties, minus the alcohol. They took being sober seriously, as serious as high schoolers can, but none of them wanted to risk being caught drunk underage and get kicked off of the team.
Lights were dim, music was loud, and Kyoutani wondered how he got talked into coming. He knew Oikawa had done his usual pout and pleaded, claiming it was a team outing, at some random third years’ house. Yahaba had just asked, and the genuine desire for Kyoutani to come almost broke him. Almost. It was Iwaizumi that finally broke the dam, merely huffing and asking Kyoutani if he was scared to go. He had promptly texted Yahaba and asked for the address and details.
Which is how he landed at a stranger's house on a Saturday night, holding a can of Coke and a look of annoyance.
Yahaba had run off after seeing Kindaichi head towards a plate of brownies that were not designated for everyone, Iwaizumi had been goaded into an arm wrestling competition with a different second year, someone from the basket ball team. Makki and Mattsun had stood in a corner, cans of sodas in their hands as they stood shoulder to shoulder, staring and laughing at whatever was on Mattsun’s phone. God knows where anyone else from his team was.
He glared forward, uncaring of who was on the receiving end of his look as he downed some more of his drink, wincing some as he realized the soda had begun to flatten.
When was an appropriate time to up and leave?
“Ah, Mad-Dog!” Now would be an appropriate time to leave.
Oikawa, however, was quicker to get to where Kyoutani stood than he was to leave his spot. He turned his glare to the captain, taking note of his outfit with an air of disgust. It was a high school house party, why did he feel the need to out dress everyone. Dark blue skinny jeans with some blue and cream sweater, a blue flannel shirt tied around his waist and those stupid black shoes he wore that squeaked so loud if he did anything more than a simple step. And the glasses. The stupid glasses that he loved to push up whenever he made a snarky remark.
“You don’t mind if I hang out with you for a bit?”
Kyoutani raised an eyebrow, bringing his can to rest against his bottom lip, gaze unwavering as he stared Oikawa down. “Why?”
“Hm? Oh, what? A good upperclassman makes sure his kohai are taken care of!”
Kyoutani continued to stare, watching as Oikawa shifted his weight from foot to foot. He was fidgety, hands clasped to his red cup which held what looked like just water, but his grip would tighten and loosen every few seconds.
“Why not hang around Iwaizumi? Or...anyone else?”
He was trying to get a read on why Oikawa looked... off. While he may be talking and listening, he wasn't focusing, his mind seemed to be elsewhere. He tilted his head, shifting his weight so he stood closer to being in his line of vision. Oikawa blinked once, twice, before sending Kyoutani one of the smiles he normally reserved for his fangirls.
“Iwa-chan was busy!”
“That’s never stopped you before.” He didn't wish to admit his captain's actions were worrying him, but they were.
He wasn’t Oikawa’s biggest fan. He was too loud and showy for his taste. But he wasn’t a bad captain, wasn’t a bad player, and, though he'd rather take an Iwaizumi breakthrough spike to the back of the head before admitting it, a good upperclassman.
So he was worried. Oikawa was being weird, in a different way than usual.
And that rubbed him the wrong way.
Oikawa pouted at the statement, “Well he had a crowd around him, you were alone and I thought, one seems like the better option, yeah?”
He wasn’t buying it. Oikawa loved crowds, not as much as he loved Iwa’s attention, but it was a close second. The brunette sent another glance over his shoulder, and for a brief second Kyoutani could see his body tense, shoulders rising before he turned back around, a fake smile on his face. Without prompting, he looked over Oikawa’s shoulder, taking in the people in the crowd behind them. No one stood out immediately- no team members being idiots, no opposing team here.
“What the fuck’s going on?”
Oikawa blanched- eyes focusing on Kyotani before he shrugged. “There’s just- you know.” No, I really fucking don't, “Some guy was getting tocuhy. He was nice and I know him so we were talking, then he kept touching me and making some comments, I told him to back off a few times but,” Oikawa rubbed the back of his neck, “He just hasn’t really backed off.”
Instantly Kyoutani's gaze was back on the sea of people beyond them, trying to figure out the person Oikawa was talking about. No one caught his eye until a shift of dark brown hair caught his attention. One of their basketball players- a second year, if Kyoutani remembers correctly, was watching them. He was trying to be subtle, and to the drunken mass of teens he was, but to Kyoutani he stood out like a sore thumb. The two made eye contact and for another moment and Kyoutani narrowed his eyes further.
Before Oikawa could open his mouth to talk once more, Kyoutani had moved into action. He gripped him by the shoulders, moving him with ease to shift their positions. Oikawa was now leaning on his side against the wall, but he was able to keep an eye on the sea of people that now how a mad Mad Dog wall to get through first.
“I- Kyoutani?”
Grunting, he tilted his head, indicating he was listening but kept his eye on the guy who was now glaring back. He heard Oikawa clear his throat before he opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say.
“Didn’t peg me as your type.” Kyoutani's face fell flat as he leveled Oikawa with his stare, “What? You pinned me against the wall.”
“Was putting distance between you and the fucking creep.” He turned back, ready to make his way across the room to put an end to this "game".
Oikawa seemed to easily read the situation, however, and put his hands on Kyoutani's shoulders, holding him in place. “Let’s not start a fight with someone who's probably drunk.”
“Doesn’t matter if he’s drunk or sober. You were uncomfortable. You wanted him to leave you alone. He didn’t. You shouldn't defend him.”
Oikawa sighed, grip tightening, “I know, and as entertaining it would be to see you punch him, you get in one more massive fight and you’re gonna be suspended from the team for the rest of the year Kentaro.”
He sighed, not allowing his body to lose its tension as he continued to glare the basketball player down. He was slowly retreating backward, pondering if he'd win or lose in a fight with Seijoh's "Mad dog-chan". In this scenario, he'd lose before it even started.
Oikawa pulled on his shoulder lightly, “C’mon, let's go see Iwa-chan. Maybe you’ll beat him in arm wrestling this time.”
He felt his chest puff with the anticipation of challenging Iwaizumi once more, but the overwhelming urge to beat the guy's face in was still present. He nodded, however, and stepped forward, keeping Oikawa on his side away from the dark haired brunette who merely shook his head in disappointment as the two disappeared.
They found Iwaizumi, still seated at a table, laughing loudly as Kindaichi spewed praise with awe written on his face. Apparently, nobody had been able to beat Iwaizumi in arm wrestling yet. Under normal circumstances, Kyoutani would have stepped forward, annoyance written on his face to hide the quiet anticipation of trying to one up his upperclassman for once, but he didn’t move from Oikawa’s side, arms crossed, glare etched into his face as he surveyed the room. If he turned his focus away that creep might come back, and as terrifying as Oikawa could be, he had a hard time saying a hard no.
Kyoutani was staying put.
And that didn’t go unnoticed.
Kindaichi had leaned forward to say something to Iwa, a sentence drowned out by the music and chatter. Iwaizumi’s eyes met Kyoutani's and he grinned- a challenging, confident look. “You come back for a rematch Mad-dog?”
Kindaichi looked prepared to witness another match, and even Oikawa looked more lively to see his boyfriend arm wrestle. But the weariness was still present in his eyes, back still straight and stiff, and even Kyoutani felt sick to see that. The two had never bonded before, and Kyoutani had never once listened to instructions from him as a captain, but the two were still... friends.
So he looked at Iwaizumi and silently shook his head. The older boy looked shocked for a moment, before another guy sat before him, a drunk soccerplayer spewing insults and challenges. Oikawa looked over to Kyoutani, eyebrows furrowed.
“You know, you don’t have to play guard dog, Kyoutani.” His voice was quiet, as quiet as it could be given the atmosphere, “I should be fine now. I didn’t mean to interrupt your brooding time or keep you here longer, I just- “
“You didn’t interrupt shit.” He butt in, refusing to make eye contact, “And don’t apologize. I’d beat the shit out of him if you asked me to.”
He could feel his cheeks heat at his statement but he refused to take it back. He would. He’d do it for any of his teammates. He'd willingly beat a creep for anyone, but there'd be more care if it were for a teammate.
Oikawa smiled, body relaxing more, shoulders losing their tenseness. “Thank you.”
Kyoutani nodded, looking over to the open doorways. If Kyoutani stood by Oikawa’s side for the rest of the party until Iwaizumi and Oikawa walked home together, that was nobody’s business but theirs. (He would never admit that the thankful praise Iwaizumi gave him in practice Monday was nice.)