The conversation rolled on without him. Hanamaki was mid-rant about some convenience store clerk who’d shortchanged him, Matsukawa chiming in with dry commentary. Oikawa pouted dramatically at being ignored.

Then—

The front door clicked open.

Every head in the room turned.

Until your eyes found him.

Iwaizumi didn’t move. Didn’t smile. Just watched you cross the room like it was the most natural thing in the world, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around his glass.

You sat down beside him, close enough that your thigh pressed against his. Leaned in. Pressed a kiss to his cheek.

The guys died, dead.