SUGGESTIVE TOWARD THE END! mentions of exhibitionism! insecurities on reader’s part, fluff
“what if,” you start, eyes holding the stars, “we rolled down the hill?” you ask, smile resembling the moon, giggles erupting from your lips as oikawa gives you the stare — one that’s telling you that you are way too drunk to even be here.
“what if,” he starts, lip quirked upward, making your eyes gleam excitedly, “we go back home?”
“awe, tooru!” you whine, pout adorning your lips as he laughs at your reaction. “c’mon! it’ll be fun!” you say, but your words fall on deaf ears as oikawa wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest, suffocates you in his love as he giggles at your childish protests.
your face is buried into his chest — you can hear your own breathing, bouncing off of his chest. you can hear the nearby crickets, the radio you had brought along that is playing sin ti by los panchos, you can hear his heartbeat. it’s slow, it’s calm — it reminds you of his love.
“what if,” you start out again, hands crumpling his green shirt in your hands, “you leave me?”
oikawa is quiet and the crickets and his beating heart sound deafening. “and why would i leave you, mi dulzura?” he asks, hand rubbing your back, patting it, rubbing it again in a slow rhythm. he’s looking up at the moon which resembles your smile, admiring the stars that twinkle and gleam like your eyes. “hm? dime.”
“i-i don’t know, it’s — it came out of the blue,” you say into his chest, thinking of the saying: a drunk mind speaks a sober heart — or something like that and you’re embarrassed, you want to sink your face into his chest and forget you let your insecurities out.
“well, i wouldn’t leave you,” he says and it’s breathless, his words are followed by a smile, “i wouldn’t leave you porqué eres mi corazón y la luz de mi vida,” he says and you pull away, he looks down at you and leans to rub his nose against yours, plant a kiss to your lips. “i wouldn’t leave you because i love you,” another kiss, “porque sin ti no podré vivir jamás.”
oikawa understands how you’re feeling. he’s been there. so, he’ll tell you how much he loves you — if that means saying it twenty times a day, if it means wearing his heart on his sleeve, if it means doing other things to express his love — he’ll do it. because it’s you, it’s you and he’d pull down the moon for you — he’d go to the ends of the earths if it meant you’d be there. he’ll love you tonight, tomorrow, forever.
“so, what if,” he starts out again and you’re sure he’s going to say that you should go home now, “we dance? what if we dance under the moonlight and we make love and —” but he’s cut off by your laughing and he smiles as you pull away from his embrace.
“tooru,” you say, “we can’t fuck in public!”
“make love, i said make love!” he laughs and smiles, “plus, i’m kinda into that sort of thing.”
you laugh and he’s glad that your smile resembles the glow of the moon again. “maybe some other day,” you murmur and press your lips to his, making his hands land on your hips. you scoot above him and straddle his lap, tangle your fingers in his hair, kiss him even more passionately.
he breaks the kiss with some giggles. “mhm, sure. your actions are saying otherwise.”
oikawa tooru lets you know how much he loves you for the rest of the night — and not only with little kisses full of love.
