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"You're going to stall, Iwa-chan," Oikawa says with every ounce of smugness his face allows for. As Hajime stalls.
The beat up Mazda lurches forward like it's set on bucking the both of them out through the windscreen, or at least making sure that its seatbelts are put to the best test possible.
Hajime slams his feet to the floor, pedals creaking under his shoes.
Oikawa sits back in his seat, like Hajime's failings are a theme park ride rather than a necessity that he's put off far too long.
Hajime always meant to learn how to drive. Driving is a requirement of modern life, enables free movement and independence from smug asshole best friends. But somehow, he never found the time, or someone to teach him, or a vehicle that would be suitable for him to crunch through the gears.
"Try again, Iwa-chan," Oikawa says, just kindly enough for Hajime to grit his teeth and shove the gear-stick back into first.
"Don't look at the stick," Oikawa reminds him. Hajime jerks his eyes back through the window and out into the abandoned car park.
Oikawa had dragged him out here without an explanation, pointedly ignoring all of Hajime's questions about their destination, as they trundled along in a spluttering old car that Hajime will generously call silver. But he hadn't expected that Oikawa would actually be trying to help him, so he was touched when finally putting Hajime's provisional licence to the test was the goal. He was, until Oikawa started teaching him.
An eternity and a half later, Hajime's blood pressure has risen to critical levels and he can barely get the demon vehicle to run for a hundred metres without stalling. But Oikawa is trying so Hajime eases off the clutch, in an attempt to be as gentle as he can and let the engine inch the car forward one foot, two feet, three-
It stalls.
"Fuck!" he shouts and slaps the wheel.
"Easy, Iwa-chan," Oikawa says. His tone is smooth and gentle, like Hajime is a wild animal to be soothed.
Oikawa's posture in the passenger seat hasn't changed an inch since they began, he's sitting down low with his hands tucked into the pockets of his grubby hoodie. He's down so low that Hajime isn't sure that he can even see over the dashboard, but the car is small, and Oikawa is tall, so perhaps he can. Either way, he's relaxed in the extreme, hasn't tensed a single muscle.
Hajime breathes, turns the key, stirring the engine into life again.
"Check your mirror, Iwa-chan."
Hajime checks his mirror.
"When the fuck did you even learn?" Hajime asks. What he's hoping is that Oikawa talking will distract him from his own frustration.
"I have to keep some secrets, else Iwa-chan would become terribly bored with me," Oikawa says and when Hajime glances at him, his eyes are closed, looking content to enjoy the sunshine on his face, casting shadows from his eyelashes, and trust that Hajime won't fuck up too terribly while he's inattentive.
Hajime takes a deep breath and tries to set off again. This time, as his foot peels off the clutch, the engine engages without a hitch and the car cruises forward.
With the switch to second, the car stutters but doesn't lurch, and Hajime doesn't dare take his eyes off the concrete to see what Oikawa's expression is like. He glances at the gear stick to shift into third, but that goes smoothly as well, and then he's turning the wheel to coast them around the edge of the car park at thirty kilometres per hour.
"You're not going to tell me where you found a manual car, either, are you?" Hajime grumbles, but this time he knows his tone won't come out as harsh, too happy with his success.
"Nope!" Oikawa chirps, and Hajime huffs out an amused sigh. He pauses, watching as Hajime fumbles his breaking and shift down, but doesn't stall. "You're doing well," Oikawa adds, softly.
Hajime swallows.
A few seconds pass as he debates his reply. Eventually, he settles on saying, "Shut up," with negative venom.
Oikawa chuckles and gestures grandly out the windscreen. "To the convenience store, my cute chauffeur!"
Hajime sets off, clicking the indicator on and looking both ways and checking his shoulder before turning onto the street.
He knows he's travelling too slowly for the road, but Oikawa doesn't seem to care, keeping his previous posture and humming under his breath. Hajime considers flicking on the radio but he doesn't dare take his hands off the wheel.
"Indicator and mirrors," Oikawa murmurs.
Hajime nods, takes a breath then flicking on his indicator and glancing so he takes in the car behind him - a large four-wheel drive thing with an impatient driver that takes his indicator as an excuse to whisk past the two of them.
He lurches to a stop in front of the store, frustrated at himself for spreading the car out across two spaces, but Oikawa doesn't comment, barely waiting for him to pull the handbrake up before hopping out of the car and bounding into the store, wallet in hand.
A second later, Hajime realises the wallet in Oikawa's possession is his own. He sighs as he kills the engine and locks the car to follow him, carefully tucking the car key into his pocket as he steps through the convenience store doors.
Oikawa has materialised in front of the baked goods, peering at the labels like he won't choose the same milk bread that he always does. Hajime nabs a packet of it and yanks his wallet back from Oikawa.
"If you want something else," he says, "pick fast."
He drops the bread onto the counter along with a packet of mints, waiting for whatever it is Oikawa will deposit along with the other items this time.
The inevitable item is a glittery planet key-chain that spins around inside its ring, as demonstrated by Oikawa before he adds it to the collection for the shopkeeper to scan through.
Hajime sighs as he pays for the items, Oikawa snatching the key-chain back and pulling off the tag as soon as the shopkeeper dips his head in acknowledgement of Hajime's coins. Hajime is far too used to this, he thinks. Anyone else would have told Oikawa to pay for his own damn key-chain, but Hajime just accepted it like it's normal. Like he accepted that Oikawa dragging him to the outskirts of town to teach him to drive was normal.
Haime is interrupted from his musing on his relationship with Oikawa by Oikawa shoving his hand into Hajime's pants.
It takes a frozen moment of pure incomprehension for Hajime to realise that Oikawa is fishing in his pocket rather than inside his jeans, but it's still enough for colour to rise into his cheeks and his brain to stutter through things to say like the car lurching through his ministrations on the clutch.
Oikawa surfaces from his pocket with the car key in his grip and clips it onto the key-chain within a moment.
"Here you go, Iwa-chan," he says, glee in every line of his smile. "Now even you won't lose your keys."
Hajime doesn't know how to respond. His hands clench once into fists, then release. He snatches the key and chain away from Oikawa as he realises that his face decided how he should react for him, spreading a wide smile across it, happiness tugging at the corners.
"Get in, asshole," he says. "And thanks."
"You're welcome, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa replies as he slides back into the passenger side door.
The car is an unattractive mess of a vehicle, but Hajime has already fallen in love with it, which is only one more in the list of unattractive messes he's fallen in love with. But he'll save mentioning either one to Oikawa for another day.