Caffeine Heights [Oikawa x Reader 2/2]

(December 20)

            The sixth time you see Oikawa, it’s nine forty three in the night time. The streetlights outside cast beams of slightly yellow light and the snowflakes float gently to the ground, the sight is relaxing, nostalgic even. The coffee shop is silent aside from the whirring of the coffee machines and another hackneyed Christmas carol playing through the speakers.

            Business had been very slow today—no, almost non-existent. A total of three people had strolled into the shop. One of them needed directions to the library—you silently gave them a university map. Another came inside and raided the free candy can bucket in front of you—you had glared at them but didn’t say anything, the candy canes were expired anyway. And the last person who came in needed to use the rest room—you said it was customers only, so they bought a bran muffin. Bran, seriously. The shop featured over fifteen types of muffins, and he had to go for the least festive, most tasteless one among them.

            Sugawara caught a cold and was holed up in his dorm room watching cheesy holiday movies on Netflix and pigging out on Christmas cookies, sherbet ice cream, and artificially flavored cherry cough syrup. So you were all alone.

            Your head rested on the countertop, facing the shop’s Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer clock.  It looked less like a story book creature, and more like a monster from hell. It looked demonic with pupil-less black eyes and a wide close-mouthed smile that stretched from the nine to the three. His nose was literally the color of dried blood. He looked sentient as hell.

            “You’re my only friend, demonic Rudolph,” You deigned desperately.

            Tick.

            “I think I see why you had no friends.”

            Tock.

            “No offense, but you’re really ugly.”

            Tick.

            “Like a monster from a Goosebumps book.” 

            Tock.

            “—a Christmas edition, obviously.”

            Tick.

            “No wonder why you’re parents aren’t ever mentioned in your story.”

            Tock.

            “They must have abandoned you as a new born.”

            Tick.

            “Maybe you should have asked Santa—“

            Tock.

            “—for facial reconstructive surgery as your Christmas gift.”

            Tick.

            “Can Santa do that?”

            “Can Santa do what?”

            You quickly sat upright and almost fell off of your wooden barstool. You were so hyper focused on your dialogue—more like monologue— with the satanic Rudolph clock that you didn’t notice the bell over the door ring as Oikawa entered the shop.

            He let out a low whistle as he appraised the empty room. “Business is booming I see.” He sent you an apologetic look.

            You shrugged your shoulders. “As usual,” You sighed. Oikawa wore a black duffel coat, a grey wool scarf, and a pair of worn out black jeans tucked into dark brown boots. His hair and eyelashes were dusted with stark white snowflakes. He looked like he had stepped right out of a Netflix holiday special; one Suga would watch and probably cry to.

            “Who were you talking to?” He flashed a curious smile and walked over to you, gracefully tucking his hands into his coat pockets. “I don’t see Sugawara anywhere.”

            You snorted weakly. “Meet our demonic reindeer clock.” You gestured to the wall where sentient Rudolph stared back at you and Oikawa—probably plotting how to curse you guys in your sleep.

            “Geez, that thing is terrifying.” He looked a little flustered and startled, his mouth set into a grim line and his eyes wide. He looked funny, you repressed a laugh. “Why would you hang that up there?”

            “Scare off the elves, I guess.”

            He shivered. “The owner isn’t a big fan of Ol’ St. Nick, is he?”

            “She just has a good sense of humor.” You corrected automatically. “Kids see the cheery welcoming smile of a Rudolph sent from hell and they don’t bother coming inside.”

            “Oh, so she hates little kids and little elves.” He stated observantly.

            You smiled cryptically. “Long story.”

            “Stories are my favorite.” He walked behind the counter and pulled out a barstool from underneath the second cash register. He pulled it so close to yours that if you crossed your legs, your knees would be touching.

            His face was even more beautiful up close, brown eyes twinkling as they reflected the street lights from outside and the overhead lights from inside the shop. His dark eyelashes almost skimmed the skin below his eyes.

            You shook your head a little. You told him the story of how a group of middle schoolers who were touring the campus had dared one of their friends to down three large mugs of hot chocolate. It didn’t seem like such a bad dare, but then he looked pale. As one of his friends hit him on the back in a congratulatory sense, he hurled chunks of a peanut butter sandwich and a bucketful of chocolate milk all over the pristine oak floorboards. You remembered how the smell was sweet, pungent, and putrid…even a little nutty.

            “The poor kid was lactose intolerant,” You were on the verge of tears retelling the story. “It didn’t help that he had a sensitive stomach as well.” You remembered the look on Sugawara’s face when the owner had told him that it was his job to clean up the chocolaty chunky throw-up and laughed even harder.

            “That kid doesn’t seem to have very good friends, does he?” Oikawa hummed thoughtfully. You had noticed that his eyes had never stopped looking at your face as you were telling your story. You gulped.

            “I mean I wouldn’t call them friends,” You said.

            “Why not?” He quirked up an eyebrow, amused.

            You snorted. “Real friends wouldn’t willingly put your life in danger, especially if they were purposely attacking your medical condition.”

            “I’m not saying I disagree with you,” He said defensively. “What they did was horrible.”

            “Exactly! It’s not like chugging half a gallon of chocolate milk is enjoyable anyway.”

            “…”

            “…”

            You both sputtered out in laughter, you clutched your side and Oikawa braced himself on the counter top. By the time you stopped, there were tears in your eyes and Oikawa was smiling even wider at you.

            “I haven’t laughed like that in a long time,” you said breathily. With all your stress from school and exams and this frigid cold weather, you hadn’t felt so lighthearted for a long time.

            “That seems hard to believe,” he said. “With such an adorable smile, your boyfriend must try to make you laugh all the time.”

            “E-Excuse me?” You were startled. What? I don’t—

            “Sugawara seems like a fun guy to be around—”

            “He’s basically my brother!” You sputtered. Dating Suga would be like a lower level of incest, but incest nonetheless. You had known him for six years. The thought of being more than friends had crossed your mind once, once, but never again.

            Oikawa’s brown eyes widened and his eyebrows rose by barely a centimeter. He wore embarrassment blatantly on his face; his cheeks flushed a faint pink his mouth cracked into a nervous smile that showcased his white teeth.

            He was scratching the back of his neck. The confidence that he so easily exuded had disintegrated in the span of sixty seconds, it was…surprising to say the least. His eyes were darting around, looking at anything but you—at the moment they were transfixed on the face of the reindeer clock.

            “So no boyfriend?”

            “N-No.” Geez, his sudden jitteriness was making you nervous, did you do something wrong. The first boy that I like in a long time and I’m getting on his bad side. You’d willingly accept Rudolph’s free ride to hell to escape the awkwardness of the situation.

            “No girlfriend?”

            “No!”

            He paused in his jitteriness and eyed you, he looked so relieved…it was unnerving.

            “Really?” he asked.

            “Why would I lie about dating someone?”

            “So no significant other?”

            “None, unless you count my stuffed animals.”

            He looked strangely happy at this. “That’s fantastic!”

            You raised an eyebrow, a bit offended. “Are you saying that it’s great that I can’t get someone to date me?”

            “Of course not,” He said. “Well, I mean, it’s kind of great—right now—because I just—”

            “Oikawa?”

            “I mean, I would think you would have a boyfriend, or someone, because you’re you. But it’s great that you don’t, since—”

            “Oikawa!”

            He jumped out of his seat and grabbed your hands. His hands were warm and calloused, his fingers were long and had wrapped firmly around yours, thumbs were rubbing against that back of your palms in small ovals. Gone now was the erratic movement of his eyes, they were solid and looking right into your own, unwavering, certain. It made your heart leap and breathing hitch.

            “What I’m trying to say is, is that I like you,” He spoke quietly. His voice had lost its natural flirtatiousness; it was replaced by something vulnerable, hesitant. “I like you, a lot.”

            He glanced up for a fraction of second and one side of his mouth perked into a mischievous smile. “I know we haven’t known each other for a while, but I just really like you and I was wondering if you like to go out on a date with me.”

            He looked at you hopefully with his boyish half-smile that showed off the dimple on the corner of his mouth. Right now, Oikawa wasn’t the smooth Casanova that he wanted to come off as. And at that moment, you felt like you were witnessing something rare and miraculous. This was akin to be something like a Christmas miracle. Not that you believed in such things.

            “Yes.”

            “Oh, it’s okay if you don’t—” He paused and looked at you, bewildered. “Yes?”

            “Would you rather have me said no?” You teased.

            “Of course not!” This was the Oikawa that wasn’t a playboy flirt with unlimited reserves of confidence and suave. This was the Oikawa that was nervous about asking a girl out. The Oikawa who doubted himself and was nervous and shy. And you liked him even more because of it.

            He pulled you closer by your hands, pulling you off of your barstool. You let out a little yelp of surprise that made him smile wider. He wrapped his arms around your waist as he looked up at you, for he was still sitting on his stool. You blew tendrils of hair off out of your face and couldn’t help but blush as warm brown eyes looked at you with pure happiness.

            “You smile a lot.” You commented, resting your arms on his shoulders.

            He shrugged. “Only around girls I like.”

            “You’re so sappy.” You chuckled.

            “That’s one reason why Iwaizumi doesn’t like me so much.”

            “But it’s also a reason why I like you so much.” You winked and his face blushed a little bit redder.

            “Would it be wrong to kiss you right now?”

            “You rogue,” You feigned shock and playfully hit him on the shoulder. “We haven’t even gone on our first date yet!”

            “But as a gentleman, I shouldn’t leave a dashing girl like you unkissed under the mistletoe.”

            “What mistletoe?”

            “Look up.” He said cheekily.

            You tilted your head up and indeed there it was, the unmistakable little bundle of green leaves and white berries tied neatly together by a simple red ribbon. You were going to have a word or two with the owner tomorrow.

            You were about to make a wry comment about lame Christmas traditions, but as you looked back down, Oikawa’s lips captured yours into an innocent peck. In that split second you felt your face heat up and your heart set ablaze.

            “That was uncalled for!” You chided as you broke the kiss.

            He laughed and his grip around your waist tightened as you struggled to break free, you were embarrassed and upset and wriggling in his grasp.

            “Hey, I’m sorry,” He said.. “But you looked so cute!”

            You sighed. “Then how about…an apology kiss?” You asked hesitantly. Who’s the sappy one now?

            He smiled and caught your lips into another kiss, this one longer, but just as gentle. His mouth was slightly chapped but somehow still soft and smooth. He caressed the side of your face lovingly as he prolonged the kiss. You had a feeling that the warmth that he exuded would scare away any remnant of frostbite that had remained in your skin.  

            He pulled away and looked up at you; your faces were equally flushed.

            “Maybe we could do that again sometime,” You said with a nervous cough. “You know, with it getting cold and all.”

            He smirked. “Then I hope it stays winter for a long, long time.”

###

1 Year Later

(December 19)

The door bell rang and you all but groaned as you wrapped yourself in the blanket your grandma knitted you for this Christmas. It was a Christmas tree! Well…it was supposed to be a Christmas tree. It looked like the spawn of a porcupine and an extra large yoga ball. The shape of the ornaments were ambiguous to say the least, they ranged from polka dots to large paint splatters. But what the blanket lacked in appearance, it made up with its warmth and impressive insulation.

            The door bell rang again and you yelled a “Coming!” in a raspy sick voice that made you sound like an elderly man. Yelling strained your vocal chords and made your throat burn, but the ringing of your doorbell did not cease.

            “I can’t have one peaceful sick day, can I?” You muttered grumpily.

            You opened the door the teeniest bit, in hopes of preventing any cold winds and snow from entering your heated abode. You peeked out through the opening with red-rimmed squinted eyes.

            “Hello?” You croaked.

            “_________!” The voice was immediately recognizable. Who else would be so chipper and happy during a blizzard at seven in the morning?

            You grumbled about your boyfriend’s persistence as you opened the door wider, hiding behind it as Oikawa quickly shuffled inside. You quickly shut the door and let out a quiet sigh as you glared at the snow that Oikawa’s boots had dragged onto the tile.

            “_________! You didn’t tell me you were sick!” He began disrobing, uncoiling his plaid green and silver scarf from around his neck and unbuttoning his black parka.

            “It’s not like I didn’t want to tell you,” You said under the wool of your blanket, your hunched form already moving towards the coach in your apartment’s living room. “I just didn’t have the energy.”

            “But you called Sugawara at the shop,” He complained from the doorway, he was untying his leather boots. “You could’ve called me too!”

            You massaged your temples. You loved your boyfriend, but at times like this, when you had a headache that made you sensitive to noise, him caring about out loud was overwhelming you.

            “I needed to call in for work, dummy.” You said. “I forgot—”

            “You’ve been very forgetful lately,” He walked over to you, he was wearing an ugly Christmas sweater with a repeating pattern of reindeers and snowmen, it made you smile at how ridiculous he looked.

            “It’s not like I wanted to get sick you know.”

            “At least my sweater matches your blanket.”

            “It’s my grandma’s latest knitting catastrophe.” You said, sticking you tongue out at him. “She made it with love.”

            “And with discount knitting yarn.” He added. 

    Smiling kindly, he nudged his way into the folds of your blanket, sliding himself underneath the knitting monstrosity and pulling you into a cuddle. His skin was still a little cold and wet from the outside, so when you tried to pull away from him he just held you closer.

            “You’re cold and wet, Tooru,” You whined, pushing his chest away. “It took me a good twenty five minutes to build up this reservoir of heat!”

            “But you’re so warm and snuggly,” He countered, nuzzling the crook of your neck. Damn his volleyball strength.

            “I don’t want to get you sick!”

            “It’s a risk I’m willing to take if I want to get closer to my girlfriend.”

            “Can you do that without stealing my warmth?!”

            “Nope.”

            You bantered back and forth until you were tired out and groggy. Eventually, Oikawa had warmed up and you couldn’t help but cuddle into him. You both snuggled on the sofa. You were too tired to take command of the remote to choose whatever cheesy holiday movie was playing on the TV. So the task was solely Oikawa’s job.

            But when presented with that major role of responsibility, he automatically tuned the TV to a clichéd holiday love story.

            “Well this is ironic.” You said.

            “What?” He rested his head on yours and began rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs.

            “Last year, Suga was the one who was sick and watching cheesy Christmas movies.”

            “I’m glad that you decided to switch places this year,” Oikawa chuckled. He gave you a chaste kiss on your forehead and you hummed happily.

            “Why’s that?”

            “Because now I get to spend the day before our one year anniversary with you.”

            “You’re so cheesy.”

            “Just like this movie.”

            “Hardy har har.”

            “That reminds me, I got you something from the coffee shop from when I went to check up on you.”

            “How thoughtful,” You teased.

            He stuck his tongue out at you and made a face as he crawled out from under the blanket to reach for the black thermos perched on the corner of your living room table.

            “Your favorite; hot chocolate!”

            You smiled and let out a cough as you pulled your hands out from the wool confines of your heat reserve to reach for your boyfriend’s gift. When the thermos was in your hand you all too eagerly twisted off the cap to reveal the warm hot chocolate inside.

            You took a sip and were sadly disappointed at the temperature of your drink.

            “Tooru, it’s kind of…cold.”

            “What? Really?”

            “Maybe the cap wasn’t screwed on tight enough?” You offered as you screwed the cap closed and handed back the thermos to your boyfriend.

            “I thought it would stay hot enough.” He hid how upset he was well as he took the thermos from your hand and placed it back on the table.

            You reached out to him and gestured for him to come back under the blanket with you. Your smile was still happy and kind albeit your hot chocolate was cold.

            “But you know what would warm me up even better that hot chocolate?”

            “What would that be?”

            “A kiss from my thoughtful and perfect boyfriend,” You smiled.

            “That I can deliver right away.” He smiled.

            A kiss from Oikawa was way better than any hot drink anyway.