#ch: shouyou hinata | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pearlsephoni · 2 years

Text

Hold On, Love, Chapter 2: Owe You One

Can also be read on AO3!

Rating: M

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairing: this chapter Oihina (Oikawa/Hinata), endgame Kagehina (Kageyama/Hinata), mentioned Iwaoi (Iwaizumi/Oikawa)

Characters: Shoyo Hinata, Toru Oikawa

Word Count: 4,409

Summary: Feeling stranded on the other side of the world, Shoyo finds an anchor - and something else - in an unexpected reunion.

A/N: Thank you once again to Andie (@fireheartaw) for beta-reading! 💖 This is the steamy chapter! Nothing is super explicit, but if you want to avoid the worst of it, it starts at "The next thing he knew" and ends at "Well, well, chibi-chan." Further author’s notes can be read on AO3.

The loneliness didn’t come immediately. His first week in Rio de Janeiro was filled to the brim with moving into his new apartment, and finding a food delivery job, and learning a new language and culture, and struggling through beach volleyball, and trying to keep in touch with everyone back home.

But when it came, it was breathtaking. It found him curled up and shaking in the corner of his room, nearly biting through his lip trying not to let his sobs escape him. His phone was the only light in the room, mocking him with the photo of his third year teammates and closest friends…friends he’d left behind for a leap of faith that now felt more like a leap off a cliff.

He’d never felt loneliness like this before. He’d been lonely, sure — he could still remember his middle school days of bouncing around a volleyball by himself, the shouts and cheers from the other sports teams’ practices echoing around him. But even then, he’d been surrounded by friends and classmates who liked him. And while he’d been unwelcome at the first year training camp, he’d known how to befriend most of those guys.

This was different. It finally hit him that he was alone in a new country, where he could barely speak the language and didn’t know anyone except an old friend of a coach he didn’t know all that well. His roommate didn’t seem to like him, he couldn’t seem to figure out the city, he was making a mess out of his food delivery job, and he’d lost his wallet.

Even volleyball was difficult. He’d had a year of training on the beach in Japan before he even set foot on the plane to Brazil, but it still made him struggle in a way he hadn’t felt since his first year of high school. That, on top of everything else he’d had to figure out in Rio, made anxiety press hard against his throat.

So there he was, crouched in the corner of his room, staring at his phone, everything in him wanting to call Kageyama. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t like the setter would be able to offer any advice, or even any comforting words.

And that was assuming he’d even pick up. They’d promised to see each other again standing on the same stage, but more than that, Shoyo couldn’t stop remembering how hurt Kageyama had looked the last time he saw him…when he broke both of their hearts. Every time he thought he’d finally moved on, the memory pricked at him, as persistent as a splinter.

But that just meant he’d have to work even harder while he was here. He’d make sure the next two years were worth everything he’d left behind for the chance at a future in this sport.

With two shouts from the bottom of his lungs, Shoyo pulled himself back together and left the apartment. On his way out, he offered an apologetic smile to Pedro, whose wide eyes immediately dodged back to his phone. Even if Shoyo could explain himself, he wasn’t sure Pedro would care enough to listen. Oh, well.

——————————————————————————————————

In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have been so surprised to run into Oikawa. The setter had a funny way of finding Shoyo when he needed a push to properly level up. It was true in high school, when his uncanny ability to pick apart a team in a few plays crushed the freak quick and made Shoyo push Kageyama into developing a new one. And it was true now, here on the beaches of Rio de Janeiro.

But where before Oikawa had inspired Shoyo with how good he was at volleyball, now he was inspiring him with how bad he was on the beach. For the first time since his move, Shoyo found himself laughing real belly deep laughs, laughs that made his cheeks sore and his abs ache, as he watched Oikawa flub his serves and stumble into the sand.

“This isn’t volleyball!” Oikawa shrieked at one point from his hands and knees. His normally-coiffed hair was now a mess of brown waves, and sand mingled with the stubble along his jaw. “This is something else entirely!!”

Of course, it was volleyball, and that meant Oikawa was endlessly determined to not only figure it out, but get good at it. And the most frustrating part was that he did, almost criminally quickly. By the end of their second day playing together, he was already hitting serves that would’ve looked at home in an indoor court, and tossing sets that were scarily easy to hit.

At least he wasn’t the only one improving. Sure, Shoyo had a year’s head start on him, but that didn’t change the unmistakable glint of admiration that he’d caught in those sharp brown eyes. More than that, it was clear that Oikawa was genuinely enjoying playing with him, something high school-Shoyo never would’ve imagined would be possible.

“I can see how beach volleyball would improve your playing indoors,” Oikawa admitted over dinner, “especially if you’re keeping your indoor-playing fresh.”

“I wouldn’t have moved across the world if I wasn’t certain it’d be worth it!” Shoyo laughed.

“Mm…your simple-minded flightiness in high school would suggest otherwise.”

“You only saw me in my first year,” Shoyo scoffed, “and I have grown up since we last played each other.” His smile faltered at the gleam in Oikawa’s eyes and the smirk curving his lips.

“Oh, I know. So have I.”

A warmth crept through Shoyo that he couldn’t completely pin on their spicy dinner, but he ignored it, certain that he was misreading the intent behind those words.

That certainty wavered with every beer they shared after dinner. And worse than that, Shoyo found himself hoping that he hadn’t misread Oikawa. Maybe he really was watching a little too closely when Shoyo licked the beer foam off his upper lip. Maybe the setter wanted his eyes to trace the curve of his back when he stretched indulgently after they paid for their drinks.

And then, as they stepped outside, Oikawa murmured, “You missed a spot,” and reached out, and gently wiped a last bit of foam from Shoyo’s lip. And with that, he wiped away the last of Shoyo’s doubts.

“What is this, a shoujo manga?” Shoyo asked anyway, surprising himself with how breathless he sounded. He didn’t move away, just let his breath brush over Oikawa’s thumb where it rested on the corner of his lips.

Oikawa’s eyes widened just a bit as he correctly read Shoyo’s acceptance, and his lips curved ever so slightly, before he murmured, “Romance wasn’t quite what I had in mind.”

There was a pulse of heat in Shoyo, slow in its path through his body. In high school, he’d been distantly aware of Oikawa’s charm and the fangirls it had earned him, but that’d always been secondary to his cleverness on the volleyball court. And besides, Shoyo had been a bit more drawn to Kageyama’s blunt and earnest honesty.

But now, here in Rio de Janeiro, years and an entire world away from high school, Shoyo was finally experiencing the full brunt of Oikawa’s allure. And it was devastating. It was all he could do to breathe, “Good.”

There wasn’t any way to know who had leaned towards whom. There was only a moment of them staring at each other, Oikawa’s thumb tracing the light path along the bottom of Shoyo’s lip, and then, in the blink of an eye, their lips were hungrily parting against each other’s.

Of course he’s good at this, Shoyo thought with a despair that was quickly burned away by the mounting heat. “Where do you want to go?” he gasped between kisses, before moaning from Oikawa’s teeth tugging gently at his lip.

“D’you have a roommate?”

“Yeah, but he's with his family for a few days.”

“Then yours?”

“Sure.”

The next thing he knew, he was pressing Oikawa against his front door the moment it closed behind them, hungrily kissing down his neck while clever fingers stole under Shoyo’s shirt. Somehow they made it into his bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in their midst, until Shoyo could push Oikawa to the bed and climb over his naked body.

He pressed lips and hands to every bit of skin he could reach, and Oikawa gave as good as he got, gave really good, so good that Shoyo could barely get the air to gasp “yes!” and “like that, fuck!” The only thing that saved his pride was the sound of Oikawa unraveling just as quickly, muffling high moans in the curve of Shoyo’s neck.

It was hasty, fast, as though they wanted to finish before either of them could change their mind. And it was the hottest thing Shoyo had done in a long time. His hands skimmed sweaty skin while Oikawa took both of their lengths in a firm, slick grip, and before Shoyo knew it, he was moaning his release into Oikawa’s mouth and feeling fingers press bruises into his hip as Oikawa groaned soon after.

The quiet of his room was broken only by their gasps, inhaling the heady scent of sweat and sex as they caught their breath. Shoyo nearly fell off of the bed trying to reach the tissues next to his bed before the mess on their bodies dried, and he only managed to grab a few thanks to Oikawa’s grip on his waist.

He’d never…done casual sex before, and part of him had assumed there would be some awkwardness afterwards. But when he looked into Oikawa’s eyes after wiping their bodies clean, he only saw drowsy satisfaction. No regret, no misplaced bashfulness, just a glimmer in his gaze and a small smirk that made him look like a cat that got the cream. It made Shoyo duck his head for another kiss as soon as he’d tossed the dirty tissues at his trash can, relishing the hum of approval vibrating against his lips.

“Well, well, chibi-chan,” Oikawa said with a small laugh when Shoyo pulled away. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Hello pot, I’m kettle.”

That pulled a louder laugh from Oikawa. “Alright, that’s fair.” He used his hold on Shoyo’s waist to pull him to the bed, though Shoyo ended up half on top of him because of how small his bed was.

“Um,” Shoyo started once he was settled on the thin sheets, “so…now what?”

This time, Shoyo could feel as much as hear Oikawa’s laugh as it jostled him where he was laying on Oikawa’s chest. “Still not one to beat around the bush, hm?” He fell silent for a moment, his fingers tracing mindless patterns into Shoyo’s back, and when he spoke again, his voice sounded a little less light-hearted. “Well, like I said before, romance isn’t something I’m looking for right now. And even if it were, I can guarantee it shouldn’t be with you.”

“I'm not good enough for the Great King?” Shoyo’s teasing words were punctuated with a yelp from the light pinch of Oikawa’s fingers at his waist.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Oikawa sniffed. “You’ve already got enough on your plate with this move. And while I’m deeply flattered that you’re attracted to me, I know for a fact you’re not interested in me romantically.”

“Well…no.”

“My thoughts exactly. Let’s just…call this an itch that needs to be scratched. We can have our fun while I’m here, and then we can just go back to our normal, platonic lives.”

It wasn’t an arrangement Shoyo had ever had before. But he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he would never catch feelings for Oikawa, no matter how abrupt and intense their physical attraction to each other was. “And this won’t make things awkward between us?”

“Me? Make things awkward? Perish the thought.”

A scoff huffed out of Shoyo, though he was grateful for the joke. It helped pop the bubble of unease that had been slowly growing inside him — Oikawa must’ve sensed it from his words. Typical for the Great King. “Then…okay! Let’s give it a try.”

The smile Oikawa flashed was full of relief, and for some reason, that sparked a nosy curiosity in Shoyo. “Wait…you gave me reasons why I shouldn’t date. But what about you?”

Oikawa’s smile turned a little sardonic. “Well, for one thing, I’m not in the habit of dating people who are still in love with someone else.”

Shoyo’s heart dropped just as Oikawa’s smile became a small, knowing smirk. It made him feel caught, and that made his temper threaten to flare up. “How— I’m not— it isn’t—”

“Do spare me, chibi-chan. It took you all of five minutes to let Tobio-chan know we ran into each other, and another five minutes at dinner before you asked if I’ve watched his matches. And the way you talked about him any time he came up…well. It wasn’t hard to guess.”

Heat rushed to Shoyo’s face, but he couldn’t even be mad. He felt like he’d stumbled into some sort of trap, like Oikawa knew something he didn’t. Maybe that was why he felt his throat tighten up, why he rolled onto his back (as well as he could in the tight quarters) and kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling above him.

Was he still in love with Kageyama? It had been well over a year since they’d last seen each other, when he’d taken the hardest steps in his life away from the person who embodied all of his goals and aspirations and dreams. They’d spoken a few times since then, but the text conversations always dwindled, and the rare phone calls were short and stilted and awkward — Shoyo had observed, with bittersweet fondness blooming in his chest, that Kageyama still hadn’t learned how to talk on the phone like a normal human.

In a way, it was almost a relief — it proved to Shoyo that he was right to end, or at least put a pause on, things. Spare texts and stilted phone calls did not a long-distance romance make. But he also knew, on some level, that maybe they could’ve figured things out. It was impossible to ignore the elephant in the room whenever they talked, the lingering feelings of love and yearning and hurt that weighed down every word they exchanged. If that wasn’t there…if they could be honest about their feelings instead of instinctively hiding them from each other…

“It’s okay to miss him.”

The quiet words jerked Shoyo out of his thoughts, and he looked up to find Oikawa also staring at the ceiling with a distant look in his eyes, one arm bent behind his head. “Huh?”

“Tobio-chan.” The mocking tone he used to say his name was still there, but it didn’t have any of the bite that Shoyo was used to hearing. It was as though it entered Oikawa’s voice out of habit, and nothing else. “I still don’t know what you saw in him, but he was your first love, right? That sort of thing always takes a while to go away.”

“Talking from experience?”

“Mm…that obvious?”

“You don’t give very good advice outside of volleyball, Oikawa-san.”

Oikawa’s eyes narrowed at the same time that a soft huff escaped him. “So rude, chibi-chan. Is that how you got Tobio-chan wrapped around your finger?”

It wasn’t the first time Oikawa had mentioned Shoyo having some sort of hold over Kageyama, but Shoyo was still surprised by the idea. Was that what their relationship had looked like from the outside? All that time that Shoyo had been running to keep up with Kageyama, that hadn’t been in his head. Kageyama was a genius. Everyone said so.

But if he stopped to think about it — and he really, really didn’t want to, he already knew what he’d find — he would remember the way Kageyama had worked tirelessly on a new toss that would work specifically for him, the way he would use that toss to set for him on instinct if the team was backed into the corner, and the number of winning points they’d scored from that. He would remember how Kageyama’s eyes had widened and his face had gone slack with shock the first time Shoyo had shouted, “I’m here!”, and the sound of his voice when he returned, “With me, you’re invincible.”

And it went beyond the court, too: it was the shared buns, the walks home, Kageyama burying his face in Shoyo’s shoulder when he was especially exhausted, Kageyama holding him when he needed to receive support instead of giving it, Kageyama cupping his face and kissing him with a tenderness Shoyo never would have thought was possible from him.

Oikawa was right, Shoyo realized with a twist of his stomach: he was still in love with Kageyama. And Kageyama had loved him right back, had taken his adoration and molded it into something new to give back to him. Shoyo had told him he’d be back, that he would come home to him, but…he’d seen the articles lauding his debut season in V.League. He knew Kageyama’s good looks and stoic demeanor (at least, on the court) had earned him a number of fans, and even earned some new fans for volleyball as a whole. He knew they would stand on the same stage again, and reach the world stage together, but for now…it was impossible to ignore how far ahead Kageyama had already gone.

“Maybe I did once,” he eventually murmured, “but not anymore, I don’t think.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. If he’d started seeing someone new, I’m sure I would’ve heard about it against my will. But the only excitement in his life must be happening on the volleyball court, because I’ve been blissfully Tobio-free.” Oikawa shifted until he could hold himself up on one elbow and look down at Shoyo with the same focus that had started everything. “And I would really,” he ducked to press a kiss to Shoyo’s lips, pulling a surprised moan from him, “really like to stay Tobio-free this week.”

“Yes, sir,” Shoyo laughed a little breathlessly.

That earned him another kiss, before Oikawa moved to sit at the edge of the bed and stretched like a cat with a satisfied hum. “Well, that’s enough heart-to-heart for one night, and I do need to get back to my hotel.”

Shoyo watched him get dressed for an indulgent moment before he followed suit. He could feel Oikawa’s eyes on him when he bent to pull his shorts on, making electricity prickle through him. That electric feeling ran through him as he led the way to the door, and made him stop Oikawa with a hand on the back of his neck to pull him down into one last lingering kiss. “See you tomorrow?” he asked when he pulled away, grinning at the slow way Oikawa’s eyes opened.

“Mm…of course. I’m not leaving this country before I figure out how to serve against the damn wind.”

Shoyo couldn’t stop laughing as he closed the door behind Oikawa. While he showered and went to bed, he was surprised by the calm satisfaction settling in his body. It made him feel both more fluid and more grounded, and when he drifted to sleep, it was the most restful sleep he’d had since moving to Rio.

——————————————————————————————————

Shoyo’s routine didn’t change much during that week, but it did…shift.

He worked. He trained. He took part in whatever tournaments he could. He bounced between indoor and beach volleyball, trying to level up in both settings.

The changes came at night. Usually, Shoyo would show up at the beach and hop into any game that happened to be taking place. But now, Oikawa would join him on the sand, even if he’d had a full day of practice games. Every night, they would face off against Gabriel and Gino, and after a game, they would settle whatever wager they had agreed upon (never mind the fact that Shoyo and Oikawa found themselves paying up the majority of nights).

And then, no matter how full and sleepy and mildly buzzed he was, Shoyo would find himself pulling Oikawa’s lips to his, and feeling Oikawa’s fingers dip under his shirt, and letting his hips rock into the hard line trapped in Oikawa’s pants. Every night of Oikawa’s visit to Rio ended with them gasping into each other’s skin and moaning against each other’s lips. Usually they fell into bed, but sometimes they couldn’t even make it that far, and other times they had the presence of mind to wash the sand and sweat off before pressing each other’s clean bodies into the sheets and getting sweaty all over again.

“Do you think you’d ever come back to play in Japan?” Shoyo asked one night, his words a little muffled by the pillow he was laying on. They had ended up in Oikawa’s hotel room, which meant a bed big enough for them to lay side-by-side without being on top of each other. “I know you’re based in Argentina, but you could probably break into the international leagues.”

“‘Probably’? You wound me, chibi-chan.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Oikawa sniffed, but Shoyo knew his following silence meant he was actually thinking over the question. “Probably not,” he finally murmured. His face was solemn as he stared up at the ceiling, the moonlight slipping in through the curtains softening all his edges until he looked positively ethereal. “At least, not for a while. Japan will always be home, but the world has more to offer me before I make my way back.” He looked over at Shoyo with a wry grin. “There’s much less of a chance of my having to set for Ushiwaka if I stay out of Japan, too.”

A surprised laugh burst out of Shoyo. “You’re kidding.”

“Am I?”

“But Ushiwaka is planning on entering the international leagues soon, isn’t he?”

“Avoiding entire countries can be surprisingly easy.”

“Oikawa-san!”

Oikawa finally broke into giggles, and Shoyo pressed his own face into his pillow to try and stifle the laughs shaking out of him. It took…too long for them to eventually calm down.

“Are you set on going back?” Oikawa asked once he had his breath back.

“Yeah. That was always the plan: two years of beach volleyball in Brazil, then back to Japan to show off everything I’ve learned and improved. I’m gonna get onto the best team, with the best setters, so I can play against the best opponents.”

“Including Tobio-chan?”

Shoyo felt his cheeks flush. If he were any better at lying, he might have considered acting coy, but he knew it was pointless, especially with Oikawa. “…Especially him.”

Oikawa hummed, the note holding no judgment. “You’ll get there. I hate to admit it, but you’ve already improved a scary amount in the time I’ve been here. I can’t imagine what you’ll be like when you go back.”

“You can see it for yourself when we play against each other!”

“Already planning on facing me on the world stage? Aren’t we a bit hasty?” But the smile on Oikawa’s lips betrayed his own eagerness at the idea, and eventually he conceded, “…I’ll look forward to it.”

Shoyo’s cheeks ached from how wide his smile was. There was a moment of content, sleepy silence, before he murmured, “And you?”

“Hm?”

“Will you be playing for anyone?”

Oikawa turned his head to stare at Shoyo, his eyes searching and the lines of his neck strong and tempting in the silvery light. “Myself,” he eventually answered, “and my old team.”

“Including Iwaizumi-san?” Shoyo asked, a soft echo of Oikawa’s question before.

The sharp edge of Oikawa’s gaze faded away as a soft huff of laughter left his nose. “…Especially him,” he conceded in his own echo. “Aren’t you a perceptive one?”

“I have to be. You never give me any straight answers.”

Oikawa could only stare at him for a stunned beat, before he rolled on top of Shoyo, pinning him to the bed and sinking gentle nips along his shoulder. “Someone,” he grumbled against Shoyo’s skin, barely audible over his shouts of laughter, “needs to teach you some manners!”

They didn’t get much more talking done that night.

——————————————————————————————————

When he thought back over his time in Rio, Shoyo would call that week the first really good week he’d had since moving. He’d be more hard-pressed to admit that it was thanks to Oikawa showing up, but the truth was there, tangible in the reluctance between them as he walked beside Oikawa, who was carrying a fully-packed backpack and suitcase. He hadn’t felt like such of a fish out of water, started feeling more comfortable in his new routine, and with Oikawa there, it felt like he had both a piece of home and a partner in learning.

He could see some of his own reluctance in Oikawa’s eyes, even as they exchanged a final few pleasantries. And then, in a one-two punch, Oikawa finally uttered, “Shoyo-kun,” and promised, “I’m going to beat everyone there.”

It felt familiar, and less like a goodbye than a “see you later.” It made a wide smile stretch across Shoyo’s face, even as Oikawa griped, “That includes you, y’know. Look more scared.” But there was a smile growing across that pretty face as they said their last goodbyes and he walked away.

Shoyo stood on that corner and watched Oikawa until he disappeared into the city’s bustle. His eyes traced his strong silhouette, his broad shoulders and strong arms and calloused hands, all proof of his devotion to volleyball and victory. And he felt a new fire spark in his own hands, a fire that seemed to heat up the handlebars of his bike as he hurried to finish his delivery work.

He didn’t return to the routine he’d had before Oikawa’s visit, not quite. The routine he stepped into was focused, and deliberate, and let him feel his work settling into his body like freshly-carved clay.

And at the end of the summer, when he watched Kageyama play at the Olympics on a display TV, so close and yet so far, Shoyo didn’t feel the pang of longing that he’d expected. The yearning was there, of course it was, but it was small next to the pride and determination he felt as he watched his destined rival land another service ace.

“I’ll be there before you know it,” he breathed with a smile.

15 notes · View notes

kagehinafromtheconcrete · 2 years

Text

afterglow || your hand in mine (fictober day 09)

fandom: haikyuu!! pairing: kagehina fic summary: Kageyama has learned a lot of things since befriending Hinata Shouyou. Things about Hinata, things about himself. How to open up. How to be vulnerable. How to love. And Hinata? Hinata learns more about Kageyama than he ever thought he would. First-year Kagehina/Hinakage drabble collection ft. the rest of Karasuno, written for sarahenany. Slowly working through the remaining Fictober 2022 prompts! fictober day 09: "sounds like 'you' problem" by @fictober-event ch summary: After practice one day, Hinata feels insecure about his size. This isn't unusual, but Kageyama says something that makes Hinata rethink his position on the court and his place on the team.

entire drabble below. :) find the whole collection: ao3 // tumblr

Hinata narrowed his eyes. “I… I can’t tell.”

Noya brought his face closer to their hands, squinting as well. He frowned in concentration. “I can’t… either. You know what that means, right, Shouyou?”

“What?”

“It means I win.”

“Whaaa?!” Hinata jerked his hand away, giving his upperclassman an offended look. “That’s not fair, Noya-san!”

“Of course it is.” Noya’s frown vanished and was replaced a second later with a toothy grin. “I have seniority!”

“How does that make your hands bigger than mine?”

“Because seniority~” Noya sang as if it made perfect sense, even though it didn’t make any sense at all.

“Yeah, well,” Hinata began, scrambling to think. “Well, I’m still an inch taller than you!”

Noya gasped, now looking just as offended as Hinata felt. “Going for that single inch? Shouyou! You wound me.”

“Oh, knock it off, you two,” their captain said. “You’re supposed to be helping clean up! Did you forget your promise this morning?”

Noya slumped forward, and in a defeated voice: “To work with everyone to clean up for the event this evening.”

“And?”

“And that’s why practice ended early,” Hinata added with a sad sigh.

“Good.”

“You’re both short to me,” Tsukishima said suddenly.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what I’m known for these days.” Hinata rolled his eyes as he stood up to fulfill Daichi’s orders. “Nobody’s gonna let me live it down.”

“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”

“Don’t you worry, Shouyou,” Noya said, standing as well after giving Tsukishima a dirty look. He clapped Hinata on the back with enthusiasm, their argument now long forgotten. “I’m not giving up on you. We’ll always suffer together!”

Across the court, Tanaka burst into laughter. Despite this, Hinata smiled at his upperclassman, trying to remain in good spirits. “Thanks, Noya-san.”

Twenty minutes later, when they’d finished cleaning up and changed out of their practice clothes, Hinata walked in step with Kageyama like he usually did when practice concluded for the day. It was oddly quiet—but then again, it wasn’t unusual for Kageyama to stay silent while Hinata babbled away. This time, though, Hinata didn’t feel like talking, either.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Kageyama noticed.

“What’s with you?”

“Hm?”

“You’re moping.”

“I’m not moping,” Hinata defended, giving him a heated look.

“Are too.”

“Hush it."

“It’s the hand thing, isn’t it?”

Hinata opened his mouth to deny it once more but then paused, irritated because Kageyama was right. And maybe that was stupid or made him seem childish, but he didn’t care—he’d always been self-conscious about his size, and while Noya didn’t seem particularly worried back in practice, it did bother Hinata, because, well…

He’d always thought it was cool that other players—Kageyama included—could hold a volleyball with one hand. Hinata hated that he couldn’t do it, himself. His hands just weren’t big enough.

“Oi,” Kageyama said when Hinata remained silent. “What’s your deal? Why does that matter?”

It took Hinata a few moments to realize that he’d stopped walking, causing Kageyama to pause in his steps as well, only a foot or so ahead of him.

“Shut up,” Hinata said sourly. He gripped his handlebars tightly, gazing at the pavement. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause you’re tall! Nobody picks on you for being short. Nobody would pick on you for having tiny hands.”

Kageyama didn’t respond, at first. Hinata risked a glance up at him to see why and found that Kageyama wasn’t even looking at him—instead, his eyes were locked on Hinata’s hands.

“Your size is actually your greatest weapon,” he said eventually.

Hinata’s frown deepened. “I know. Volleyball is all about size. You don’t have to keep reminding me.”

“No, I mean, it’s your greatest weapon, personally,” Kageyama went on. “You’re short, so everyone looks at you and thinks, ‘This guy isn’t a threat.’ But you are. You’re the biggest threat we have.”

Hinata’s breath caught in his throat upon hearing the words, eyes blown wide. Something fluttered in his stomach—a sensation that he’d associated with Kageyama time and time again—and he thought, in the safety of his own mind:

How come you know exactly what to say to make me speechless?

“...oh.” A tiny, excited smile pulled at his lips. “You think that?”

“You’ve proved it, you idiot.”

“Me,” Hinata echoed, suddenly extremely giddy. “A threat. The biggest threat in Karasuno.”

“You still have a lot to learn,” Kageyama warned abruptly. "Don't let it go to your head."

“As if you have any room to say that to me.”

Hinata’s grin shifted into something less gleeful and more teasing as he spoke. Still, he couldn’t deny the joy that spread through him brought by Kageyama’s words. It was so strong that he wanted to take off on his bike with a celebratory cheer, and he was getting ready to do just that when something curled around his wrist.

Hinata froze. “Wh…”

He glanced down to check and yeah, that was Kageyama’s hand. When he lifted his gaze to give Kageyama a questioning look, Kageyama wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“S—” He stumbled, cheeks pink. “So, uh…”

“...Kageyama?”

“Don’t. Um.”

Hinata blinked, waiting.

“Just don’t let it bother you,” Kageyama finally spat out. “It’s—it’s not like it has to be a bad thing.”

It took him a few moments to realize that Kageyama was trying to reassure him. It was… almost funny how Kageyama could say something that would stick with him for a long time without even trying, but when he actually put the effort into cheering him up, he didn’t know how.

Once again, Hinata’s smile changed. Grew softer. Sweeter. His wrist felt warm underneath Kageyama’s fingers, and slowly, experimentally, he moved his hand to touch Kageyama’s.

Unlike Noya’s, Kageyama’s hand was much larger than his own. He rested his palm against Kageyama’s, lining up their fingers, and for once, the size difference didn’t bother him.

He... kind of liked it.

“Alright,” he said softly, with that same smile. Kept their hands pressed together. Found the warmth to be pleasant. He didn’t pull away.

Neither did Kageyama.

12 notes · View notes