Chapter Text
August 10th, 2024
The Parisian air was warm and buzzing with excitement. The Argentina volleyball team had managed to qualify for the final match in the Olympics. Familiar faces filled the stands. For example, he could recognize a familiar head of red hair, accompanied by the one who hardly smiled, even though he was clearly excited for this. They were there.
Oikawa’s hand touched the ball, and everything else drowned out, the noises, the screams, the cheers. It was just him, the net and the ball. The sensation of flying for a split second, that feeling of almost touching the sky. A dream so far, yet not really. Ball after ball, touch after touch, tingling sensations in his hand.
Everything was blurry until he felt his heart thumping in his ears. His teammates were cheering in the background, but he was confused. His head turned toward the scoreboard. They had won. 28-26. And suddenly, everything made sense. His eyes started to tear up against his will. He was laughing and crying at the same time, his head turning toward the stands. His brown eyes searched, almost desperately, for someone.
You.
Your eyes met his, shining with pride, that smile lighting up your whole face. That grin is so familiar yet nostalgic at the same time. And all of a sudden, he was running. He didn’t know why, or rather, he did. He knew damn well why. He just hadn’t expected it to happen now. Right now. But it was the right moment.
He rushed toward the stands where you were seated, ready to jump over and bear hug you, had you not anticipated his move and met him halfway, pulling him into a tight embrace.
“I am so proud of you, my love,” you whispered softly, a smile on your face, your lips brushing his ear.
And for a moment, he thought he could have died right then and there, and everything would have been alright because he had you in his arms.
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“So, I know that we had some timing issues, but now we are here. Thank you for showing up, Oikawa, second-time Olympic champion. How does it feel to win another gold? I’m sure you must be happy.” The interviewer asked.
“Well, I can’t say I’m not,” he said with a small laugh. “It’s certainly satisfying. A result of my hard work, for sure, but my teammates were also a key part of Argentina’s success today.”
“Of course. Well, congratulations to all of you. Do you have any plans for tonight? A victory like this must be celebrated, no?” The woman smiled.
Oikawa couldn’t help but grin, his head tilted just enough to reveal the faint, poorly hidden mark on his neck. Maybe on purpose, maybe not.
“Well, yes, I do. I’m going to celebrate with my fiancée,” he said with a smug smile, staring straight into the camera, showing off the newest addition to his hand, a thin gold engagement band.
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One hour earlier
“Marry me,” he whispered in your ear as you embraced. His adrenaline still high, from the game, from running to you, from the victory and what he had just blurted out.
Your body froze. You took a double take.
“I beg your pardon?” you asked, flabbergasted.
“You heard me. Marry me. Be my wife, my life partner, my companion. Marry me,” he said again, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his tone as he observed your shocked expression. Did you not want this? Was it too early? It had been almost four years since you two got back together. Fuck. Maybe he should have waited longer. But he wants nothing more than to make you his wife already—
“Yes.”
Your voice pulled him out of his overthinking spiral.
“What?” he asked, now the one in shock.
“I said yes, silly,” you chuckled softly. “I just… wasn’t expecting it. You caught me off guard.”
His eyes widened, lips curling into a grin as he started laughing and suddenly, your head was against his chest again as you two were hugging again tightly.
“Damn you…” he muttered against your skin, pressing a kiss to your neck.
“Let’s go to the hotel room. Like, now. I need to give you the ring, definitely give you a much much, better proposal and something else too…” he murmured, a mischievous, knowing grin spreading across his face as he grabbed your hand.
You both took off, laughing as you ran off the court.
“But your inter—”
“I don’t care. They can wait. Right now, I need some quality time with my fiancée.”