CROYT'S WRATH I wrestling oneshots (COMPLETE)

just another story in the book | matt jackson

after grabbing his keys, wallet, and phone from the table beside the door and stuffing them inside his pockets, he walked to the door and opened it up. iwaizumi's face was slightly flushed at the cheeks, a smirk on his lips, and a hand on his hip, weight resting on his right foot. matt scrunched up his nose and leant forward, seeing if he'd be able to smell a drop of alcohol on the man. thankfully not. or maybe? he wasn't sure, not being too familiar with the substance. there was a hint of something there though, definitely.

"what're you doing?" hajime grinned at his friend's position in front of him, finding it a tad odd.

"yeah, something's definitely off." matt thought internally. he normally wasn't that nice. in some people's opinion, he wasn't nice at all, but maybe that's just because iwaizumi looked like an intimidating guy, all muscle and masculine features and spiky hair.

matt shook his head and locked his door, walking down the sidewalk and to his friend's car. "nothing."

"are you wondering if i'm drunk?"

matt paused for a short second, not knowing how to respond to that because he was busted. absolutely. iwaizumi continued without waiting for the long haired man's response. "just had one drink of whiskey, matt. nothing to be cautious about." he clapped his heavy hand at the professional wrestler's shoulder, walking to the driver's side of the car and about to go in. that is before matt stopped him. "no, let me drive."

"told ya, we'll be just fine!" the other argued, but matt was not having it. not at all. "yeah, that's what they all say." he rolled his eyes, snatching the car keys from his friend easily -- another sign that shown him that he was correct in what he did. normally he wouldn't be able to do that with such ease. his friend's reflexes were damn scary fast. of course, playing volleyball throughout elementary school, middle school, and high school would do that to you. especially if you were the ace of your powerhouse team, and that was exactly who iwaizumi hajime is.

the athletic trainer couldn't respond, nor could he protest because he swore, he swore he just blinked for a millisecond and then bam, matt was in the driver's seat, inserting the car keys and revving up the engine of his silver rolls royce phantom. with that, he simply huffed, his cheeks puffing out and sat in the passenger seat. "do you even know where the party's at?"

"no, but you're here and you know where it is." matt sent him a sarcastic smile and drove from the driveway with ease.

the drive lasted about thirty minutes, mostly because the only person who knew the directions was "mildly intoxicated" and kept on mixing up his rights and lefts. inside, matt wondered whether he actually knew his right from his left. he'll make sure to ask him that when he's fully sober. nevertheless, they ended up where they wanted to be: the summer home of iwaizumi's boyfriend. "he doesn't actually live here in the US. he lives in argentina, but he comes here every now and then. usually when it's off season." the man told him along the way.

apparently they were childhood friends, grew up together and even went to high school together. the fact they were the setter and ace of the volleyball club of their powerhouse school only strengthened their bond. that was one of the reasons why they stayed so strong even when they're physically far apart, vocalized iwaizumi.

"what's his name?" matt asked as he parked the car by the sidewalk. "i'd be kinda weird if i waltzed in to a party not knowing the guy's name. also, does he not mind us going together?"

"nah. he trusts me. we've been together for a long time now and if he didn't, we wouldn't have stayed together this long." he shrugged before answering matt's other question. "and his name is oikawa toru. you should just call him oikawa."