"i'll see you wednesday," naomi said, fixing her coat as she walked over to her husband. she pressed a soft kiss against his cheek, before straightening up again, patting the material of her dress twice before feeling satisfied with how she looked.

"milan, right?" iwaizumi asked absentmindedly, fixated on his newspaper.

"yes. i'll let you know how the show goes; i might have to do an extra photoshoot with vogue italy, but it's all still uncertain."

"well, good luck with that," he said, still not looking up at her.

"i'll probably be home wednesday."

"let me know if it changes."

"will do."

she turned around, sighed, and turned back.

"hajime... i don't know if it's something i said or did, but i do love you. if you're upset because of me, i'm sorry."

"hmm?" he asked, looking up at her, "i'm not upset, what makes you think that?"

"you're... distant."

it had been five days since his encounter with oikawa tooru, and it had changed everything.

never before had he been directly confronted with, well, the fact that his life was a lie. this woman had given him his success; if her father hadn't helped him along at the start he would've gotten nowhere, and their marriage was to thank for that support. and now? now, he didn't even bother to look at her. he just didn't care.

oikawa, as little as he wanted to admit it, was exactly what he wanted in a person. physically. his personality was an issue, but he was gorgeous, he was up for grabs, and it was killing him not to take the chance. it was all he could think of. what if this, what if that, what if something would happen and his boring, routine life could become an exciting one just by his doing?

naomi? she suffered under her husband's distracted attitude, feeling unloved and unwanted. he had very little motivation to change that. he hadn't come to love her, or care much for her, over the years. he'd fooled himself into thinking he loved her when they were both young and naive, but his foolishness had decreased over the years. he didn't love her. he never had.

"i'm tired." the reply was a simple lie.

"so you keep saying. i don't think that's it." she bit her lip. "i'd like to say i know you better. but i don't really know this you at all."

"oh," was his only response.

"anyway," she murmured, "i have to go. see you, hajime."

"see you wednesday."

and she was off.

he knew he should be nicer to her. or try, at the very least. but he really couldn't bring himself to. all he could occupy himself with was a sense of intense anger directed towards himself and that stupid, gorgeous man he had so unluckily ran into.

his thoughts were soon disturbed.

"honey, i'm home!"

the tone of that voice, it's falsetto pitch, the amused sing-song sway of it — it sent electric shocks up and down his spine. eyes widened and his paper crumpled up between two fists, anger and excitement coursing through his body, he knew exactly who that was.

"what the fuck are you doing here?" he asked, standing up from his seat at the kitchen table and storming out to the hall.

there he was. the most gorgeous man he knew, dressed in all-black, fitted pants and a turtleneck sweater; a pair of glasses perched on his nose made him look even more attractive than he had anticipated. his hair was a coordinated, model-like mess of chocolate-coloured strands. hands in his pockets, he walked over to him, not really caring about his rather noticeable anger.

and following him was his old friend matsukawa.

"i told you i'd be back," oikawa smirked, "mattsun decided to bring me."

"you two've met, i presume?" matsukawa grinned jokingly, "he's been asking questions about you for days. so i'm bringing him to you."

"please take him back," iwaizumi said bluntly.

"i would, but he likes you a lot more than he likes me. so, as your friend, i'm handing him over." he put his hand on oikawa's shoulder, gently shoving him forwards.

"yeah. and i really don't like him at all, so you can have him. that was fun, i'm going out for a drive now."

"let me come with you!"

both iwaizumi and matsukawa looked at oikawa in shock. the brunet pouted with the attitude of a five year old, hands on his hips. "what?!"

"no one goes near his cars," matsukawa advised, "seriously. don't go there."

"for christ's sake, his wife just took out an aventador. i can sit passenger seat if she gets to drive a lambo."

"first of all," iwaizumi warned, "that's my wife—"

"who's being tricked into a marriage with a gay man. but go off, i guess."

"shut it," he hissed, "she's my wife, so she gets to drive some of my cars. i, however, want to take my bugatti chiron out for a spin, and if you ever even come within a fifteen foot radius of that car i will murder you."

"hajime is defensive about his cars," matsukawa added.

"thanks. i'd almost missed that."

"you're very welcome."

"but seriously — you have a chiron? and i'm not getting a sneak peek? you've got to be kidding me," oikawa said, "i've been dreaming of that car for years, and you just have one right in your garage?!"

"issei, please take your obviously stupid boyfriend home to educate him, he doesn't seem to understand the word no."

"iwaizumi, i'm begging you, i'll have sex with you a million times, i swear."

"i'm married."

"yeah, and i'm actually a guy!"

"he really is."

"thanks, issei."

"you, again, are very welcome."

"i don't care," iwaizumi bit, "i'm straight, married to a woman, and very happily, might i add."

"look, hajime," matsukawa started, "i know, he knows, we're not telling anyone — well, i'm not, you can't trust him with anything, he's addicted to gossiping — and we're not shaming you for it. just let this bitch sit in your car and do a few laps for his entertainment."

"no."

"let me propose something," oikawa said, "i won't disturb your drive. but you let me stay overnight, no questions asked."

"i'm sorry, have i ended up in some alternate reality where it's normal for someone to walk into your home and start proposing deals as if i ever asked for someone? is this how people behave nowadays?" his condescending words were just enough to evoke a hint of discomfort in both men in front of him. he scoffed. "let me propose something," he retorted, "you two fuck off and leave me alone. i'm finally by myself, exhausted from having to even slightly pretend to still have any feelings for the woman i've been married to for eight years, who's father is the reason i even own any of those cars. i don't have the energy to deal with you or your whining or your threatening or anything. i just want to drive my favourite car, get drunk off of scotch that's worth more than either of you will ever be, and fall asleep on the couch without someone to nag that i should 'come to bed'. understood?"

silence followed. oikawa seemed temporarily stunned as he stared back at iwaizumi. his entire face was blank, as if he was recalibrating and calculating his next best action. matsukawa just uncomfortably looked at anywhere but either one of them.

then, the brunet's face shifted, and he sighed softly. "it's that bad, huh?" he hummed, cocking his head to the side, "fine. mattsun, let's go."

iwaizumi sighed with relief. he wanted to shout at them to get out once again, but as oikawa promptly turned on his heels and started walking towards the front door with matsukawa on his heels he decided that that was more than enough excitement for one day.

—

"you look too concentrated," matsukawa said as oikawa stepped into his laferrari, "you're planning something. he's not going to like it."

"i've been too head-on," oikawa murmured, "i thought he would jump at the chance for something new, but it seems like that father-in-law of his holds this start-up over his head like some sort of blackmail." he looked over at matsukawa. "you knew all of this, didn't you?"

"you kidding? i know everything about that guy," matsukawa chuckled, "we've been best friends since high school. admittedly, we don't speak much anymore, but he tends to run his mouth when he's drunk. and we do like to get drunk."

"so you knew he was gay?"

"he told me once. it was just after he had hit his first milestone with aoba inc. — we got drunk, went back to his place, and we kissed. for a while. then he admitted it, i told him i was the same, we made out some more and fell asleep, absolutely hammered. he forgot everything."

oikawa looked at him, eyes narrowed. "you liked him, didn't you?" he asked, as if he were some kind of detective.

"i mean, he was a good kisser, but i don't fall in love. never have, never will."

"why not?"

"because it's way more fun to have idiots like you hang around me," he chuckled, "even though you're now leaving me because you like him too." he glanced over at oikawa. "stop by sometime, will you?"

"of course," oikawa winked. he placed his hand on matsukawa's thigh and gave him a brief, reassuring squeeze, before continuing on to more interesting topics, "so you just let me go after him like that, knowing he'd hate me for it?"

matsukawa grinned. "it's fun to see you fall flat on your face for once."

"you're a dickhead, you know that? anyway, thanks to that little stunt inside and your storytelling, i do know exactly how to convince him now."

"and how is that?"

"i give him exactly what he wants. i show up in your aventador — i'm borrowing your aventador, by the way — with an insanely expensive bottle of scotch — i'm going to need an insanely expensive bottle of scotch, by the way — and i'm going to allow him to get drunk and fall asleep on the couch. all the while, i can be the one he talks to. he needs someone to talk to, even though he says he wants to be all alone. he knows he wants me. he just refuses to admit it. so i'm gonna get him to."

— 

"please leave," iwaizumi sighed, "i've dealt with enough of your shit for the day."

"not here to bully you," oikawa said, holding up a bottle of 1926 macallan, "here's scotch. let's drink it. no weird pressuring you into sleeping with me or whatever. just a drink."

"just a drink?"

"just a drink."

he looked up at the brunet's face, at his very faux smile that was so obviously fake iwaizumi couldn't even read between the lines. he sighed deeply. he did want a drink.

"fine. i don't have the energy to fight you on this." oikawa grinned as he graciously entered his lavish home, heading straight for the kitchen.

"where do you keep your glasses?"

"my study."

"eh?"

"i don't like drinking around naomi. she doesn't like me drinking at all. for being the person that actually spent money on that ridiculously large bed, i sure do often find myself sleeping on the couch."

"you actually sleep on the couch?"

"no. that would be madness."

"so then where?"

iwaizumi gestured towards the western wing. "i'm spoiled for choice. don't you have a blueprint by now?"

there was an annoyance in his voice that told him not to reply. "i see." oikawa followed him obediently, deciding to take the risk of annoying him and question him anyway, "so you're drinking a lot?"

"alcohol makes me feel better. less bored. makes the occasional sex better, too."

"something tells me you've started drinking without me," oikawa chuckled.

"you're right. matsukawa probably told you i'm an honest drunk."

"he did. well, i'm a crazy drunk, even though i don't drink that much anymore."

"i drink too much," iwaizumi grumbled, opening the door to what oikawa supposed was his study, "way too much. and i talk way too much when i do."

his study was kind of typical, but at the same time, not typical at all. most of the surfaces were made out of wood — probably dalbergia —  and the further you looked, the more slight signs of a large fortune popped up. some things were plated with gold, a patek philippe 5004 sat on the corner of his desk, and both the couch and the chairs were lined with high-quality leather.

"sit," iwaizumi said, pulling out another crystal glass for oikawa to drink out of before he sat down himself. oikawa settled in the place across from him and his desk, handing the bottle over to iwaizumi, who proceeded to hand him a filled crystal glass.

"what're you trying to accomplish here, oikawa tooru?" oikawa looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

"just here for a drink."

"no you're not," iwaizumi sighed, taking a generous sip, setting his glass down, "you're trying a new approach, that i can be sure of. and since you're here with alcohol and the knowledge i have no filter after enough of the stuff, you're gonna get me to talk. kind of like troy, really; give me a gift and then attack me from the inside."

"i'd hardly find a bottle of 1926 macallan an equivalent to some stupid wooden horse. and i'm not planning on attacking your mansion."

"it's a comparison," he said, "you're smart enough to know that."

"now you're admitting i'm smart?"

"yes," he replied, "but you should know that i am too. even though this conversation is far from smart. but i'm tipsy and i kind of like not being smart for once."

"you wanna play dumb?" oikawa smirked, "i know a lot of dumb stuff we can do."

"no," iwaizumi said, leaning back in his chair, "no, i'm not gonna be dumb."

"no offense, but you are. you could've earned millions upon millions more this year if you'd taken action. but you never did. you're lazy and acting like a 'depressed' teenager that somehow can't seem to understand that the first step to happiness is to take a step at all."

iwaizumi took a sip, before setting his glass by down, no care for how much noise he made. "do you think you know me? because you know some statistics?"

"yeah."

"you don't know shit about me. the benefit to having a lot of secrets is that random people don't find out shit you don't want them to. fine, you know i'm gay — but issei knew too. you're not the only one in the world. you, on the other hand, are very easy to research."

oikawa hesitated in his movements for the slightest of moments, and iwaizumi smirked.

"you're japanese, born near sendai, twenty-six years old. you've been in the scene for five years now. you came to america on a work visa for a large-scale energy company. you were once arrested by the fbi for the possession of drugs and intent to distribute, but charges were mysteriously dropped at the hands of your employer."

"i guess you know who?"

"what, you think takahiro, one of my most trusted officials, wouldn't inform me about the hits we take for our employees? i never saw your face, didn't recognize your name, because you worked for aoba under an alias." he cocked his head to the side. "wanna hear more? or do you have enough?"

"i didn't know takahiro was buddy-buddy with the man in charge. i knew i should've slept with him."

"oh, please. as if that'd work." his index finger wandered over the rim of his glass. "point is, you may think you know me, but you don't. i, on the other hand, am easily able to obtain this and more about you. you really wanna fight?"

"i don't wanna fight. i just want a spin in your chiron."

"no way."

"how about a bet," oikawa grinned, sitting up, "i get until your wife returns to find out any one thing about you that nobody else knows. if i do, you take me for a drive. if i don't, i'll disappear. i won't push you anymore."

iwaizumi raised his eyebrow, holding out his hand. he was drunk. drunk enough.

"it's a deal."