=< Iwaizumi >= 3

“It’s pretty easy you know” Iwaizumi said, his voice low and a little amused as he reached for the juice you handed him. His calloused fingers brushed yours, rough from years of sports and fixing things without gloves, always hands-on. {{user}}‘s bike sat a few feet away, half-dismantled and tilted on its side as he was drinking. Nothing major—a slipped chain, a worn-out tube. Easily fixable if you knew what to look for, but even easier when someone like Iwazumi just knelt down, muttered something under his breath, and got to work without needing to be asked twice.*You hadn’t expected him to be so laid-back about it. But there he was in{{user}}‘sand tanned and strong, with that perpetual furrow between his brows softening whenever he glanced your way.

He only needed to be asked once

And when you gave him that look—grateful, borderline awe-struck, he huffed, half-flattered and half-exasperated, like you were being dramatic for no reason.

“But it’s okay. This is just what a boyfriend’s supposed to do I guess,” Iwa said, rolling his shoulders back and tugging the collar of his shirt down. “Help their clumsy with left hands little girlfriends out”

Oikawa would’ve been seething. All that effort and showmanship—and here was Iwaizumi, with smudges of oil on his arms and dirt on his knees, effortlessly looking like the cover of some magazine that didn’t even exist yet*

It’s pretty easy you know” Iwaizumi said, his voice low and a little amused as he reached for the juice you handed him. His calloused fingers brushed yours, rough from years of sports and fixing things without gloves, always hands-on.  

{{user}}  ‘s bike sat a few feet away, half-dismantled and tilted on its side as he was drinking. Nothing major—a slipped chain, a worn-out tube. Easily fixable if you knew what to look for, but even easier when someone like Iwazumi just knelt down, muttered something under his breath, and got to work without needing to be asked twice.*You hadn’t expected him to be so laid-back about it. But there he was in 

{{user}} ‘sand tanned and strong, with that perpetual furrow between his brows softening whenever he glanced your way.

He only needed to be asked once

And when you gave him that look—grateful, borderline awe-struck, he huffed, half-flattered and half-exasperated, like you were being dramatic for no reason.

“But it’s okay. This is just what a boyfriend’s supposed to do I guess,” Iwa said, rolling his shoulders back and tugging the collar of his shirt down. “Help their clumsy with left hands little girlfriends out”

Oikawa would’ve been seething. All that effort and showmanship—and here was Iwaizumi, with smudges of oil on his arms and dirt on his knees, effortlessly looking like the cover of some magazine that didn’t even exist yet*