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“As much as I’d love to hear your rendition of Babycakes, it’s three in the goddamn morning.”
Matsukawa groaned into his pillow, unable to shake the memory of Hanamaki over-dramatically shouting the lyrics to Babycakes in the carpark of a McDonalds at 6am. “It was the pinnacle of the 2000’s, Mattsun,” he had said with an infuriatingly endearing grin. He really did have a knack of dragging Matsukawa to perform stupid shit with him at unnecessary early hours of the morning. Especially on days where Matsukawa had some surreal commitment issues with his bed, they might never make it through these troubling times.
“I knew you just wanted me for my money, Matsukawa, shame on you!”
Matsukawa fumbled and turned the volume down on his phone, he sometimes forgot how loud Hanamaki was. Behind his saccharine sweet strawberry hair, he was a ruthless maniac at heart. “This better be real fuckin’ special Hiro.” He snapped, though it came out more as a whine. He could practically sense Hanamaki smirking on the other end, kicking his feet up and lying on his stomach like the true 13-year-old girl he was.
“Fine, since you’re not appreciative that you’re the first caller, I’m turning towards our beloved captai—”
“You’d choose Hanger-kun over Iwaizumi?! Shame on you, Hanamaki.”
“And be beat to death by his bara arms? It’s almost as if you want me to suffer. At least if I cried enough Oikawa would let me into his superficial heart.” Hanamaki sounded so overly offended, Matsukawa just knew he was holding his left palm over his chest.
“Don't act like you wouldn't jump at the chance to be bashed in the head by those muscly guns. We all would.”
Hanamaki sighed into the receiver, causing Matsukawa to pull the phone away from his ear and wince. He really did put up with so much, having a living train wreck for a best friend. Annoying habits came in the package.
“Too true, my dear Mattsun. This wont be longer than a few minutes, but now that I have caught your attention—”
“This had better be good, Hiro, or I swear I’ll show up looming over your bedside like an unforgiving shadow of a man.” Matsukawa knew it was a terrible decision before Hanamaki even began to breathe the first syllable of his reply.
“Oh? Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me, aren't you? Tell me more.” Hanamaki practically purred the statement, masking his absolute pride at getting that old-ass reference into their conversation.
If he was going to play dirty, Matsukawa would prefer to puppeteer the situation in his favour. Playing Hanamaki for the fool is his favourite pastime, after all.
“Then I will lean over so closely to your tiny elf ears—”
“Haha, and then what?”
You’d think Hanamaki had a breathing problem with how deeply he was breathing into the receiver, almost as if he could feel Matsukawa’s eyebrow twitch through the radio waves. He’d probably dub it ‘the eyebrow curse: trying to escape your face’, Matsukawa subconsciously scowled at the taunting Makki in his head.
“I will whisper ever so softly into your ear canal— go the fuck to sleep.” He was proud of that one, in all honesty. Then Hanamaki had to open his big mouth and ruin it with a finishing blow to his sanity.
“Mattsun, I think I just nutted.”
Another sigh, though it was from Matsukawa this time. Hanamaki was many things, but denying his ability to completely manipulate conversations was something nobody could dare to do. One hundred to one. But something Matsukawa has that the majority of his teammates don't, is the ability to rise to the challenge.
“What the fuck has you up at 3am, Hiro? Tell daddy all of your troubles.”
That seemed to do the trick.
“Okay first of all, ew. Second, that is something Oikawa would say. Third, why are eggs in the dairy isle of supermarkets?”
He was going to strangle Hanamaki in his sleep. A shame he never gets any.
“Fuckin’ Hiro, god I don't kn—”
“Dairy is anything from a mammary gland of mammals, right? So milk, cheese, even that gross cotton candy go-gurt you like so muc—”
“You call me at 3am, threaten to replace me with Oikawa and then insult my taste in go-gurt?”
“Hey, I’m just sayin’, if you commit to the peach flavour—”
“Fuck you and your basic peach ass, Makki.”
He felt lighter when he heard Hanamaki’s muffled laugh, however, knowing that he was probably holding his nose in desperation. That only causes him to snort louder than his actual laugh, Matsukawa has told him plenty of times, he just refuses to listen.
“Anyway, since egg comes from a chicken and is technically the unborn, would that make it meat instead?”
“If its unborn, my dearest Makki, how would that constitute as meat?”
“So you’re telling me.” There was a pause on the other end and Matsukawa briefly wondered if he had escaped the Hanamaki hellscape, before he continued once more. “That eggs are just a byproduct that float needlessly in the void between dairy and meat? Outrageous! Petition to make egg its own section of the food pyramid.”
“But you really don't need to eat eggs to have a healthy diet, darling.”
“I’m taking this to court, Issei, to court.”
Matsukawa snorted, though he’d later deny that he had made such a noise, blaming it on Hanamaki’s sleep-deprived delirium.
“Please have mercy on us simpletons.”
“Barry B. Benson ain’t got nothing on me.”
“What are you gonna do, bring in a chicken to help your...” Matsukawa pondered for a moment, listening to the soft breathing indicating that Hanamaki was listening. A lazy grin pushed itself onto his face. “...campaign?”
“Wow, Mattsun, you had me on the edge of my seat there.”
“Go the fuck to sleep Takahiro.”
“Then stop indulging me with your sexy sleepy voice, nerd.”
“I will pull each and every one of your teeth out slowly and painfully with a litter picker if you don't shut the fuck up and sleep, Hanamaki Takahiro.”
“Damn, I thought Oikawa was the only one to get fuckin’ snatched.” Matsukawa almost lost it there, if it weren't for his sheer willpower. He bit his lip harshly when he imagined a bald Oikawa Tooru getting his hair yanked away from him. He almost had to put the phone next to him to avoid the incessant laughter bubbling in his throat.
“I’m hanging up, Makki.”
“Smell ya later.”
Call ended: 00:47:25