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am i gay? please help

Chapter Text

Kageyama is not gay. He doesn't like boys; he doesn't really like anyone, but that's a different story. He's far too preoccupied with volleyball to bother with girls who don't care about it. He almost tries, once, in middle school; as an experiment he allows a girl to spend lunch with him. He ends up talking about Oikawa, and his serves, and how he thinks he's getting better at it, and they end up parting ways at the end of lunch and never speaking to each other again. He doesn't bother after that.

There are plenty of girls. Cute girls, tall girls, short girls, shy girls, girls who hang on his arm and try to get him to go to the movies with them (“I can't, I have practice. Go see it yourself”). He doesn't have time for dating, he tells himself, although sometimes he secretly tries to imagine if he DID have time for dating; what kind of girl would he even want to date? He tries to picture the sort of girl he'd want to hold hands with, to see movies with, to sit close to waiting for the bus in the cold. There's only one thing that comes to mind, and he immediately stops and never, ever imagines that situation again.

Hinata is not gay, either. At least, Kageyama doesn't think he is. He's not exactly popular, not like Kageyama is; he's sort of weird, overenthusiastic, and short. Girls think he's cute, but in a little brother type way. Kageyama doesn't know why. Hinata's nice enough, he guesses, he's got a cute face, for a guy, and he's amazing at volleyball, which is what really counts. Hinata gets down about it sometimes, when Kageyama gets another confession, and Kageyama just shrugs and tells him they can trade places, girls are a pain, and Hinata puffs his cheeks out in offense and calls Kageyama a jerk before running after him and begging him to wait up, “I thought we were going to practice!”

The thing is, with Hinata, Kageyama doesn't really need a girlfriend. They see movies together, they go out to eat together; they rock-paper-scissors for the bill, although Hinata's pretty transparent (he almost always chooses rock), so sometimes Kageyama will let him win on purpose. They play volleyball together, and Hinata's really the only person he's met who can match his drive and enthusiasm. He and Hinata have the same taste in just about everything, although their personalities are nearly completely opposite. Who needs girls when you have someone like that? Not Kageyama. He's fine with the way things are, with the way Hinata clings to his arm when they're in a public space so he doesn't get left behind or lost or jostled between everyone who is taller than he is. It has happened more than once.

“Don't you think it would be nice, though?” Hinata asks one day, after school. They're sitting on a bench at the park halfway between their houses; Hinata swings his legs, watches how his feet barely reach the ground where Kageyama's are stretched out in front of him. “You know, like kissing, and dating, and movies, and that sort of thing.”

Kageyama looks over at him, raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“It's not like you'd get it, since girls actually like you, but some of us would kind of like to go on dates and stuff.” Hinata sounds petulant, and Kageyama can see the resemblance between him and his kid sister.

He's sort of curious, though. “Stuff like what? What kind of dates would someone like you even want to go on?”

Hinata huffs at him. “You know, date stuff!” He tilts his head like he's thinking about it. “Um...movies. I said that already...sharing food, going places together...getting chocolate on Valentine's Day.” Kageyama sees how his face perks up just thinking about chocolate on Valentine's Day, and he rolls his eyes.

“We already do all that stuff,” he says, because they do. “We saw that movie last week, and you made me share the popcorn with you after you said you didn't want any. You even gave me chocolate on Valentine's Day last year.”

“That doesn't count!” Hinata sputters. “Natsu asked me to give those to you!”

Kageyama shrugs. The rest of his point still stands. They go places together all the time; Hinata's usually the one inviting him out, but if there's a movie he really wants to see, he might drop a suggestion after practice or whenever. Hinata always, always says yes.

“Plus, there's kissing.” Hinata's still looking kind of pouty. “You've probably been kissed a bunch of times, but I never have.”

That's kind of surprising. Kageyama figures if he were a girl, he might want to kiss Hinata; he just has a nice face, he's always smiling, he's the kind of person a girl should want to kiss, right? Kageyama doesn't really understand his own popularity, but he understands a kissless Hinata even less.

“Do you want to?” he asks, speaking before thinking. He doesn't know what he's asking, really, if Hinata wants to kiss girls, wants to kiss, wants to kiss him-

“Of course I want to kiss girls, stupid Kageyama!” Hinata kicks his feet again. “Isn't that what everyone wants? Besides winning Nationals. I can't be 30 and never have been kissed. Even Natsu's been kissed before.”

“No, dumbass.” Kageyama turns his body towards Hinata. “Do you want to kiss?”

Hinata blinks at him, mirroring what Kageyama's feeling—what is he saying?--but weirdly enough, he doesn't want to take it back. He's never kissed anyone before, Hinata's never kissed anyone before...maybe not the most logical solution, but it's there, and he's curious.

“Do you mean...” Hinata's eyes widen with realization. He points at Kageyama, then back at himself. Kageyama waits for the laugh, for Hinata to smack him on the shoulder and say good joke, Kageyama! But it doesn't come. What comes instead is the red on Hinata's cheeks as he keep pointing at himself, bewildered.

Kageyama just looks away because Hinata's flush is catching. He shrugs again.

“Okay.”

They sit there for a minute, because Kageyama doesn't know if he'd heard right, or if Hinata was even intelligent enough to figure out what he was asking, but then a tug on his sleeve snaps him back to Hinata, who is looking at him, uncertain but expectant.

“Come on, you had to have had practice. What's it like?”

Kageyama keeps looking at him, stares at Hinata's mouth while he's talking, and then opens his own mouth before he realizes what he's doing.

“I've never done it before,” he says, watching the way Hinata's mouth opens in surprise when he says it. It closes, then opens again, and then Kageyama's eyes snap up to Hinata's own when he feels himself being tugged forward, down, a hand on his arm, and then those lips he's been watching are pressed smack up against his own and he's staring at eyes screwed shut, long lashes and maybe he's supposed to close his eyes, he thinks, but it's all over in a second. He's left sitting there, stunned, when Hinata pulls back.

“You're right.” Hinata sits back against the bench like it's no big deal, although his face is still kind of red. “You've never done it before. That sucked.”

That snaps Kageyama back to his senses and he's grabbing Hinata by the hair, tugging and shoving an elbow into his stomach while Hinata whines. “It takes two,” he snaps, and then they're wrestling for control on the hard wood bench.

It goes on like that for a while, until Kageyama gains the upper hand (only because of his height, Hinata grouses from underneath, arm twisted against his back). They leave for home dusty and somehow satisfied, if the grin on Hinata's face is anything to go by; they do not mention the kiss, but Kageyama's left to wonder if he's the only one who keeps thinking about it long after it happens, about the softness of Hinata's mouth against his. He hadn't even had enough time to process it, really, his first actual kiss, the first person who hadn't been too scared to get close enough to bother trying. He'd never really cared before, never thought much about it at all other than that it is a thing that happens in tv shows and movies and on the street, sometimes, but not something that he cares about.

Until now.

Kageyama's still not sure if he cares, but he finds that he doesn't NOT care. He finds himself absently touching his mouth throughout dinner, his father asking him if everything is okay; he stares at his mouth while he brushes his teeth for bed and wonders if Hinata's doing the same thing.

He probably doesn't care. Kageyama's not a girl, that wasn't an amazing kiss, and he's still not even sure why it happened. Kageyama shouldn't care, either. He doesn't care.

And yet, this is not how Kageyama had ever imagined his first kiss going, the few times he'd thought about it. He finds, when he goes to sleep, that he really doesn't mind.

Chapter Text

Nothing happens after Kageyama kisses Hinata. He's not magically attracted to boys, and Hinata doesn't act any differently than he had before. Kissing is no big deal, Kageyama tells himself, feeling a little smug. At least now Hinata will never be able to brag that he's been kissed first, since they both spent their first kiss at the same time. The downside is that Kageyama's no longer able to brag about that, either, although he still really doesn't care about kissing or dating or girls, or anything like that, so he figures it's a fair enough trade.

Things between them are absolutely the same, and it was stupid of him to think they wouldn't be. It's Hinata, after all, they're both boys, they're both straight, it was just to see what it was like (and it wasn't too impressive). The only real thing memorable about the kiss is how close he'd been to Hinata, how he could see the way his lashes ticked his cheeks and his nose scrunched up a little in concentration. It was cute, Kageyama thinks, and continues to wonder how girls don't see that about this kid. Everything about him is cute. You know, for a guy.

Like the way he puffs his chest out with his hands on his hips when he's feeling challenging, or the way he tries to hop to get closer to Kageyama's face, or the way his cheeks are always a little pink when they finish kissing.

Okay, one thing has changed. They kiss again, after that. Once, maybe twice. Maybe every so often when Hinata gets a determined look on his face and starts tugging Kageyama down to his height.

“If you did this with a girl, you wouldn't have this issue, stupid,” Kageyama grunts once, when Hinata's trying to pull him down enough for their lips to connect.

“Okay, smartass, find me a girl and I'll do it,” Hinata huffs against Kageyama's cheeks, finally at an okay height before kissing him. “Plus, maybe I'll end up with a super tall girlfriend. This could be good practice.” Kageyama's too busy with his lips against Hinata's to tell him that almost anyone could be taller than him, but Hinata somehow knows he's thinking it, and steps on his foot.

Kageyama doesn't know why they're still doing it. He doesn't think Hinata does, either. And yet, even though Hinata's a boy, and probably not his type even if he was into boys, Kageyama doesn't mind it. He doesn't mind this weird new form of affection tacked on to all the other ones Hinata displays. And they're innocent enough, Hinata's lips warm against his own, but nothing beyond that.

They're getting a little better, too; Kageyama's beginning to judge Hinata's height correctly when he leans down, Hinata has to push and pull less, their noses don't bump anymore. It becomes almost second nature to them, the way their quick is, sort of. It crosses Kageyama's mind once, when Hinata's leaning into him and pecking his lips during lunch, that it's probably weird, he's never seen any other guys doing this, but then again, pretty much everything about them is weird, and it seems to have worked out fine up until now. When Hinata kisses a girl, he won't have anything to worry about. That's probably his misguided thinking.

And then, before he realizes it, sometimes Kageyama is initiating the kiss.

The first time it happens is when they're cleaning up after practice, heading towards the club room after the rest of their teammates, and Hinata's talking about how awesome they were today, how they're definitely going to be amazing at their next match, and then Kageyama's ducking his head down and pressing his lips against Hinata's before he realizes he's doing it. When he pulls back, Hinata looks a little surprised, but then he's beaming and grabbing Kageyama's hand with his own, linking their fingers together while he babbles about what they should do next practice.

They walking into the club room like that, Hinata swinging their hands between them. Kageyama thinks he sees Daichi and Asahi do a doubletake at them, but he doesn't care because it's not anything weird. He and Hinata have held hands before; he's pretty sure it's just a thing Hinata does, he's seen him do it with just about everyone, and maybe he's getting a little too comfortable with being touched by someone he'd hated at first, but he doesn't really care at this point. Hinata is just Hinata. He's seen Daichi and Sugawara holding hands before, so it's not like it's anything weird.

The next time Kageyama initiates a kiss again is at lunch one day, when Hinata's eating a piece of cake he's brought from home. He's excited, as he always is, about the prospect of sweets.

The thing is, Hinata's a shitty eater. He eats like he's five, and Kageyama's told him often enough, but he still ends up with frosting on his nose, on his cheek, on the corner of his mouth, and Kageyama can only sigh and shake his head when Hinata offers him a bite; he's never been fond of sweets. Hinata's obviously overjoyed that he doesn't have to share, that he's got this entire piece of cake to himself, but that bit of frosting on the corner of his mouth is driving Kageyama nuts. Lick it off, he finds himself willing Hinata, wipe it off or something, why are you such a mess.

That's the last thought that goes through his mind before there's something sweet bursting in his mouth, sort of unwelcome because he really hadn't wanted any of the cake at all, and when he pulls back, he sees a wide-eyed Hinata staring at him. Kageyama brings a hand to his mouth; it comes away with a smear of frosting.

He'd kissed Hinata. No, worse; he'd kissed the frosting off of Hinata.

It's a haze, honestly, it had just happened, and he doesn't know what to say; was that weird? Was it weirder than the kisses Hinata normally gives him? He watches Hinata's tongue dart out of the corner of his mouth, pink, and lick off the rest of the frosting. At least that's taken care of, it's fine, it's not like he'll do it again-

And then there's some more sweet in his mouth and he feels his elbows hit the ground below him. Hinata's kissing him, but it's different; his lips feel warmer, more pliant somehow, they're not tightly closed like they usually are, and Kageyama can taste the frosting he's just licked off his lips. It is probably the best frosting he's tasted, if he really liked that sort of thing.

When Hinata pulls back, he looks smug, reaching up and wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb. He still has frosting on his nose that he's oblivious to, but his mouth is wet and red and completely frosting-free.

“I offered to share some with you,” he says, sitting back down. Kageyama doesn't even know when he'd gotten up on his knees, but he guesses it's only natural with their height difference. “You don't have to be a smug jerk about it.”

Hinata's the one who looks smug, though, and Kageyama sits back up, feeling like he's been bested at something. It's an annoying feeling, like he needs to get even but doesn't know how, doesn't know why, and he can still taste that frosting in his mouth. He absently reaches over and wipes the rest of Hinata's face with his thumb; Hinata lets him, tilting his head up and wrinkling his nose as Kageyama's fingers swipe over it.

“You're worse than your kid sister,” Kageyama says, dropping his hand back to his side, licking the frosting from his finger. “Tell your mom the cake was good.”

That gets Hinata beaming again, talking about how he's going to help his mom bake a cake for Kageyama's birthday, even though he'd burned the last cake he'd tried and it would be fine this time, but Kageyama's too focused on remembering the warm, open-mouthed kiss Hinata had given him as a form of...what, revenge? He's not sure. He suddenly isn't sure of anything, only that it wasn't bad. Hinata is actually getting kind of halfway decent at kissing, although Kageyama has a feeling this was sort of just a fluke, just Hinata fumbling blindly yet again and somehow ending up coming out okay.

“Hey,” he finds himself saying without thinking, as he's been doing lately. “Do you want to see a movie on Sunday?”

Hinata, of course, says yes (when hasn't he?). It's normal for them to hang out together, especially on Sundays, although Kageyama would have never thought he'd actually enjoy spending time with Hinata outside of school, but he does, even when Hinata's clinging to his arm in terror and Kageyama's trying to pretend he isn't closing his eyes, because leave it to Hinata to always pick the scariest shit movies when they go out together. Not that they're going out. It's an outing, a friend outing.

Kageyama can still taste the frosting.

Chapter Text

Sunday turns out to be cold and gray, and Kageyama's already regretting his decision to go out with Hinata when he steps outside and it feels like rain. It's not like he can stand him up, though, not when he's promised to pick Hinata up at his house (“12 pm sharp, Kageyama, if you forget I'll kill you”) so he sets out anyway.

This is the first year Kageyama's ever done things outside of class with another classmate. This year is a first for a lot of things, to be honest; the first year he's shared a bed with someone (Hinata), the first year he's had someone tell him he's amazing (also Hinata), the first year he's found someone who could not only tolerate him enough to be around him, but went out of their way to spend time with him (Hinata again). He won't say it, ever, but he's grateful, somewhere deep down in his grumpy Kageyama heart.

The day is cloudy, and gross, but as soon as Hinata throws open the door before Kageyama even has a chance to knock, it's like the sun has come out. There's a warm weight plastered to his arm while Hinata babbles about how he's “five minutes late, Kageyama, I won't kill you this time but you have to buy lunch” and Kageyama gets the distinct impression, judging by Hinata's shoes and jacket, that he has been waiting by the door like a damn dog for longer than just five minutes.

The movie is shit. Kageyama and Hinata both agree on this vehemently, and they pointedly do not mention the intense hand-gripping going on between them over the popcorn during the scary parts. This happens nearly every time they see a movie together; Hinata pressing so close to Kageyama's seat that they eventually just shove the middle armrest up and away every time. Hinata says he wasn't scared at all, honest. Kageyama wants to point out that he was, that he'd buried his face in Kageyama's sleeve more than once; then again it doesn't seem worth it when Hinata will no doubt mention how Kageyama had jumped and overturned the popcorn towards the end. He has no idea why Hinata always picks the scary movies, but for some reason, he doesn't really mind it. It's sort of nice to have someone as scared as you are to cling to. Not that Kageyama gets scared, it's more like gripping surprise.

Something is off, though. There's something different about Hinata, and it bothers Kageyama all throughout the trip to the theater, through the movie, straight up until they're eating lunch together. It's not the way Hinata's hair looks as though he's bothered to comb it, kind of, he always does that when they go out. It's not the way his jeans bunch around his sneakers, because that's usual, too. Kageyama's surveying him over the milkshake Hinata's preoccupied with slurping down, wondering how a kid so short can fit so much into his stomach, when it hits him. It's Hinata's shirt.

That shirt is definitely a little too big for Hinata, and Kageyama tries to think back. Does Hinata own oversized shirts? He doesn't think so, they always seem to fit pretty well, but he doesn't think he's seen Hinata in this one before, so maybe it's new. That can't be it, though, because it looks familiar. And then it hits him.

That shirt looks familiar because it's Kageyama's. Hinata is wearing Kageyama's shirt.

It takes him a moment to register that the irritating sound of the straw slurping has stopped, and he glances up from the offending clothing to see Hinata staring at him, eyebrow raised.

“Do you want some?” he's asking, sliding the glass forward, but that's the last thing on Kageyama's mind right now. He honestly doesn't care if Hinata's somehow stolen his shirt, or if he wears it, but something about the fact that it's Hinata in his shirt, that Hinata had gone out of his way to put that on this morning, is driving him nuts with a weird churning in his stomach.

So he simply says, “That's my shirt.” Blunt, to the point, and Hinata's face immediately turns pink.

“It's...is it?” He's trying to laugh it off, glancing down. “I guess it is kinda big. Um...I think you left it over at my house the last time you stayed. I'll give it back when we get home-”

“It's okay,” Kageyama finds himself saying without really thinking. “It looks better on you, anyway,” and he doesn't know why he's said that, except for maybe that it's true, he'd never really cared about that shirt until he'd seen it on Hinata, and now he wants him to keep wearing it. Hinata's cheeks are still pink but he shrugs and he's turning to go back to his milkshake when Kageyama's hand shoots out and slides it away.

Kageyama doesn't even particularly like milkshakes; they're like wannabe ice cream, it's far too easy for them to get too watery, and they're always too sweet for him to finish. He takes a sip, anyway, and there's strawberry flooding his mouth (Hinata's flavor of choice).

“Indirect kiss,” Hinata says, smug, before snatching the milkshake back and slurping.

And then Kageyama's remembering the frosting, and thinking about what it would taste like if he kissed Hinata right now (strawberries), and putting his head on his arms because it feels too warm.

Throughout the rest of their time together, his eyes keep straying to the shirt Hinata's wearing, wondering if it smells like him now, and thinking about the stupid strawberry milkshake. Hinata's gripping his hand and he doesn't shake it off, like he used to; he lets it happen now, because he knows no matter how much he yanks his hand away, Hinata's will invariably stray back into place, locking them together so he doesn't run off, and it's better that way. He remembers the time he'd lost sight of Hinata and found him sniffling on a street corner an hour later, alone. He's like a kid.

They wander around a little more, Hinata tugging him to shop windows and towards dogs who growl at him (every single time). Hinata's sunny demeanor has made both of them completely forget about the clouds in the sky until the first raindrop hits. It's Kageyama who feels it on the top of his head and looks up, and then Hinata's following suit, and then they're both staring at each other (“What do we do? What do we do? I don't have an umbrella!”) before it's coming down in buckets, plastering Hinata's flyaway hair against his head.

Kageyama's jacket has a good, because he's not an idiot, but getting wetter by the minute, trying to cover his head with his arms. It's a good time to go home, they decide. They have to wait 20 minutes for the bus, though, and Hinata's teeth are already chattering.

“I can't believe you didn't remind me to bring an umbrella, jerk,” Hinata's saying, hopping in place. Kageyama is going to be subject to this kind of whining until the bus gets here, and he grits his teeth. And then he gets an idea.

It is maybe not the best idea, but he's had to think on his feet, so it will do. Kageyama's unzipping his jacket, a little damp from the rain but in better condition than Hinata's, and yanking the shorter boy over. Hinata lets himself be maneuvered, back against Kageyama's chest, and then Kageyama's zipping the jacket back up to the bottom of Hinata's chin.

Hinata says nothing, just glances back, craning his neck to look at Kageyama, who pointedly refuses to meet his eyes because this is stupid, now the front of his shirt is all damp, but Hinata's settling back against his chest and it's warm, he can feel Hinata's heartbeat, and he has to resist the urge to rest his head on top of Hinata's.

By the time they make it home, they're both soaked through, Hinata's (Kageyama's) shirt plastered to his skin and his hair dripping. He's laughing, though, shaking his head like a dog on his doorstep. Kageyama waits for him to open the door, watching as his hand, wet with rain, slips on the cold metal, before he thinks of something. Hinata's turning back and then Kageyama feels himself being tugged down, lips pressing against his, sort of wet but there's warm breath against his clammy skin.

Hinata's waving and slipping through his door before Kageyama has a chance to react. He still has to walk all the way home in this rain that isn't letting up, and he's forgotten to ask Hinata to borrow an umbrella, but he finds that he doesn't really care at all. He can still feel the warmth of Hinata's back against his chest.

“Did your date go well?” Kageyama's mother asks when he walks inside, dripping. Kageyama's about to snap that it wasn't a date, it was just Hinata, but he sneezes and his mother is ushering him upstairs to change and take a bath, and he never really remembers to correct her.

Chapter Text

It's not like they hang out every single weekend. Just sometimes, on occasion. They'd seen a movie last week, and it just so happens Hinata's planning to stay the night this week. It's a coincidence, really. They don't spend that much time together.

The way Kageyama's mother greets Hinata would make one think the complete opposite, all smiles and a kiss on the cheek and telling him to look after her son while she's at work. She does this every single time, and Kageyama hates it. Parents are so embarrassing; the first time his father had met Hinata, he'd clapped him on the shoulder and said something along the lines of “glad to have you in the family, son”. Kageyama's embarrassed beyond belief, but Hinata seems to take it in stride; this must be what having a kid sister does to you.

Hinata is sprawled across Kageyama's floor like he owns the place, pillowing his head on one of Kageyama's bare thighs. They're both in boxers and little else, and this is normal for them, but today, the tickle of damp hair on his skin and the warmth of Hinata's cheek are setting Kageyama a little on edge.

There's a movie on the TV, but Kageyama wouldn't be able to tell what it's called or what it's about if his life depended on it, probably. He's staring at the moving pictures on the screen, but his attention is taken up trying not to pay attention to the skin-on-skin contact that is, for some reason, a big issue tonight. It's not like they haven't been in this position before, but there's something about the way Hinata is warm and soft after a shower, and how his hair smells like Kageyama's shampoo and the image of him using Kageyama's soap-

He seriously needs to stop that train of thought before it goes anywhere. He glares at the TV harder.

“Hey, Kageyama.” The voice from his lap almost goes unnoticed with how hard he's concentrating on not concentrating. He glances down, though, and is met with Hinata, peering at him out of the corner of his eye. “You ever think it's weird how people kiss?”

That's certainly not a question he's been anticipating at all. He feels his cheeks grow warm, because why in the world is Hinata asking him about people kissing? His gaze happens to fall onto the screen, where the male and female leads are sharing a passionate moment and...who picked this movie? If he'd known-

Hinata is rolling over, facing up towards Kageyama. “You're making a weird face again. I'm not saying kissing is weird, just like...” He moves his hands in a way that might be trying to convey something, but isn't getting anywhere. He makes an annoyed noise in his throat when Kageyama stares blankly at him. “You know! With tongues!”

Yet another development Kageyama isn't expecting, and he almost chokes on it. With tongues? Hinata's looking up at him, earnestly, so he doesn't think he's being made fun of. He shrugs. “I guess? I've never done it, I wouldn't-” Shit, he's just admitted he's never kissed With Tongue, Hinata is never going to let him live this down-

“Me neither. It looks kinda gross.” Hinata turns his head back towards the TV, angling it enough that Kageyama can see his lashes against his cheeks. He's silent for a few more minutes, and Kageyama's relaxing again, relieved to be able to focus on not focusing on Hinata's head in his lap, when Hinata speaks up again.

“Want to try it?”

This time Kageyama does choke, josting Hinata until he ends up sliding off his lap and slapping Kageyama on the back.

“Are you an idiot? Do I want to try it?” Does Kageyama want to try it? The answer is yes, but he's not going to say that.

He's not really sure if it sounds pleasant at all. He's seen enough movies and a little bit of porn to know that it looks kind of sloppy and messy and wet, and he isn't quite sure how he feels about the prospect of having someone else's tongue in his mouth. Hinata, though...he glances over at him where he's perched on his knees next to Kageyama, head tilted. He wants to kill him.

He also kind of wants to kiss him.

So Kageyama shrugs. Let Hinata do with that what he will, he's not going to say anything incriminating like “Okay, I'll kiss you with tongue” or “Please stick your tongue in my mouth”. The movie is kind of boring, Hinata looks nice when he gets out of the shower, and they've just had sweets his mother left them for their sleepover, so he'll probably taste good. That's important if they're going to be literally swapping spit.

“So...yes?” Hinata doesn't even wait for an answer when he shuffles forward, still on his knees. Kageyama's legs are crossed, which Hinata apparently takes as the perfect invitation to climb into his lap, knee jutting into Kageyama's ribs before he positions himself.

“You fucking dumbass,” Kageyama grunts when he gets his breath back. “This is like the fifth time this week you've kneed me in the ribs-”

“It was the stomach last time.” Hinata looks like he's in the mood to be obstinate. “And I said I was sorry. Kind of. You look funny when I do it.”

“Does that mean you're doing it on purpos-” Kageyama's words die on his lips as Hinata mashes theirs together, the rest of the words swallowed up by the smaller boy's mouth. He thinks he might have let out a noise of surprise, but that, thankfully, gets swallowed too. Hinata has become way too eager with all of this, going so far as to kiss Kageyama right on the court when they were sitting on the sidelines drinking water. Thank god nobody's seen yet, but...

There's something warm and wet touching Kageyama's lips, and his thought process fizzles.

This isn't exactly a foreign feeling, as Hinata seems to like to...well, lick, sort of. In that respect, he's familiar enough with Hinata's tongue, be it on his cheek, on his ear, on his lips or the palm of his hand when Kageyama's trying to shove his face away. But this is the first time it's really actually meant something.

He's hesitating too much, and he knows it. Hinata's tongue prods at his lips again, and the feeling is weird; he doesn't want to open his mouth, but at the same time he really, really does. He thinks about the times he's seen Hinata lick his own lips, his tongue darting out to catch stray sugar at the corner of his mouth...and then slowly, hesitantly, his own lips slip open.

Kageyama doesn't know when Hinata's hands have cupped his face, warm and rough on his cheeks, and he's only vaguely aware of it now because there is something warm sliding into his mouth. Warm and slick and wet and tasting of artificial strawberry and salt from the popcorn they'd been eating. It's not a bad taste, really.

Hinata's lips are sliding against his, and then their tongues brush together and he...well, he groans, low against Kageyama's mouth. Kageyama feels him almost jerking away, the heat of his cheeks pretty apparent this close to Kageyama's own, but he's not going to let him get away like that when he'd been the one to initiate this in the first place. Kageyama brings his own hand up, palm brushing against Hinata's cheek as he works around to slide his fingers into the back of Hinata's hair, cradling his head and tipping it back. This is a much, much better angle. Kageyama doesn't know why he'd been hesitant about this at all.

The tongue in his mouth is retreating, and his mouth feels unpleasantly empty. Their lips are together, still, slick with both their spit, and he's feeling adventurous with Hinata's weight on his legs and fingers twitching on his cheeks still, so he tries some licking of his own. Hinata's lips are a little chapped, which he knows already, but it's an entirely different feeling to trace them with his tongue. There's another noise, clawing from the back of Hinata's throat, that barely registers with Kageyama as he's far too busy nudging his tongue between slack lips. It's suddenly enveloped in warmth; he can feel Hinata's teeth, and he slides his tongue along them. This is an entirely new area to him, and it's making the blood rush in his veins.

Hinata's making that noise again, and it sounds suspiciously like “Kageyama”, but he swallows it up again, tilting his head a little more to get deeper, licking into Hinata's open mouth. There's some drool dripping down his chin, he thinks, cooling as it sits there, and he probably looks foolish, but he doesn't care because Hinata is starting to tremble, hands sliding from Kageyama's cheeks to his shoulders.

And then, suddenly, he's jerking back, looking shocked and appalled and scrambling off of Kageyama's lap so fast that he slips backwards. He catches himself with his elbows, and Kageyama almost winces at the sound of bruises being formed. He's about to call Hinata a dumbass, to ask if he's okay, (why did he stop?) but Hinata is busy jumping to his feet, bowing in apology, and flying out of the room.

Kageyama is left sitting there in stunned silence. It takes him a minute to wipe the spit from his face, where it's trailed down his chin, and he thinks about seeing Hinata's face with a flush high on his cheeks and his nose and creeping down his neck-

He turns back, stiffly, to the movie, where some kind of explosion is going on. It's bright and mindless enough to catch his attention just right.

Hinata does not return for fifteen minutes. Kageyama knows because he's counting, worrying that he's done something wrong even though it was stupid Hinata who proposed it in the first place, but when Hinata gets back, he just sits down cheerfully on the floor next to Kageyama.

They don't mention the kissing, and Hinata does not move back to Kageyama's lap.

When the movie finishes, they head to bed, and Hinata's the same as ever, talking about the parts of the movie he enjoyed (“the good guy beating the bad guy!”) and the parts he didn't like (“there was too much talking”). Kageyama thinks he might have been worried for nothing; Hinata is an idiot who is easily distracted, and he's probably forgotten completely about that kiss. Maybe he'd hated it; Kageyama's chest clenches a little, but he supposes it doesn't matter, since it had just been a one time thing for them to try out and see if it was as gross as it looked. (Kageyama does not dwell on the fact that he hadn't really minded it as much as he'd thought he would.)

Hinata crawls into bed with him, like he usually does; they'd forgone a separate futon quite a while ago, after Hinata kept falling asleep on Kageyama's bed before he'd had a chance to set it up. It's okay like this; Kageyama has never had the opportunity to sleep with someone else, being an only child, and it's sort of nice to have another body next to you. He keeps to himself in bed, so there's enough room for Hinata to squeeze in next to him, their backs pressed against each other. Hinata's heartbeat is kind of calming.

When they wake up, though, it's another story; this is also like usual, Hinata sprawled halfway across the bed, blankets tangled around one leg and the other snugly between Kageyama's. At this point, Kageyama can't even bring himself to try to wake Hinata up; he knows from experience that it will not work. Hinata only wakes when Hinata wants to wake. The entire team has learned this by now, all of those unfortunate enough to have slept next to Hinata on club outings, and Kageyama's usually the one who gets saddled with the honor of being the sacrificial victim to Hinata's obnoxious sleeping.

Today, though, Hinata smells of a mix of his own scent and Kageyama's shampoo, and it's too early for that, too early for the way Kageyama's stomach flutters when he opens his eyes and sees Hinata's face close to his, the way he looks ridiculously content when he's sleeping, one hand curled up next to his cheek. It's too early for the fleeting idea that Hinata smells like a mix of them, that he's in Kageyama's bed like it's familiar and normal-

It's just too early in general. Kageyama groans, pulls his part of the blanket over his head, and tries to go back to sleep.

Chapter Text

Hinata likes girls. It's not exactly obvious, but why wouldn't he? He laments the fact that he's never had a girlfriend, he flushes when exposed to a picture of a topless model, he gripes about all those love letters gone to waste when Kageyama tosses them haphazardly to the side upon finding them slipped into his locker. One day, he tells Kageyama, sometimes, “One day I'll get the most amazing love letter and you'll be so floored, you'll take back all that stuff you said.”

Kageyama has never had reason to believe that claim, until now.

He is floored. He feels like he's falling through the floor, more like, when Hinata waves a white envelope under his face, panting. He's caught up to him at lunch, crouched over Kageyama while he's seaterd, stretching his legs out in front of them.

Kageyama's brow furrows more with each chirped “I told you so,” and he ends up snagging his fingers through Hinata's hair and relishing the way he yelps.

The letter is inconspicuous; they pore over it at lunch, Hinata trying to guess who it's from. He sniffs it, Kageyama smacks him on the head and tells him he's not a damn dog. The handwriting is rounded and it could be anyone's, really; neither of them have paid enough attention to the girls in their classes to know them by handwriting. Kageyama doesn't even know most of them by name, so the ones ticked off by Hinata, sitting next to him, mean nothing.

She wants to meet after practice, the note says, and Hinata's grinning like mad. His hair is disheveled from his mad dash to show off to Kageyama, and right now, he looks pretty cute. It's about time some girl confessed, Kageyama finds himself thinking, although he'll never admit it to Hinata. He just tells him that it's gotta be a joke, maybe it's from a guy, and the way Hinata's face heats up and he starts to stammer angrily is worth it.

And somehow, even though he feels like it's about time, Kageyama can't bring himself to be happy for Hinata.

It's not that he's jealous; he'd gladly transfer all the bothersome letters he's gotten over to Hinata if he wants them. As they eat, Hinata mumbling happily around mouthfulls of bread, he finds himself wondering who it is. He's never cared before, ever, but now he's trying to remember the faces of girls who have interacted with Hinata.

Lunch is over too soon, because he still can't figure it out, and Hinata's dragging him and tugging on his arm and begging him to come along for moral support, please, Kageyama, and no matter how hard Kageyama tries to shake him off, he won't let go. He sighs and agrees, because why not, he really wants to see who this girl is, if she's good enough for Hinata (he doubts it) and they walk home together, anyway.

This is how he ends up crouched in a bush outside the school gates. There are twigs digging into his skin, threatening to poke out an eye, and he reminds himself to kill Hinata for this later, or at least have him buy something from the vending machine. Hinata owes him, he grumbles to himself. His leg is starting to fall asleep.

Kageyama's discomfort is immediately forgotten when he sees her. She has sleek black hair, tucked neatly behind an ear, clutching her bag in front of her. She's about the same size as Hinata. She's cute enough, but something about her is bothering Kageyama. She's not good enough, he decides, then and there. He folds his arms and glowers like it can deter her all the way from this bush.

He's ignoring most of their conversation, because eavesdropping feels sort of weird even if Hinata had practically dragged him along, so it's going over his head; he's watching her bow and talk and Hinata's running a hand through his hair and playing with the hem of his sleeve.

And then he hears his name.

The weirdest thing is not that his name's coming up in a conversation between Hinata and a girl who is interested in him. It's the fact that it's not spoken by Hinata.

He sees Hinata's fidgeting increase; something's gone wrong. He's so, so tempted to hop out of the bushes, no matter how much it will scare the shit out of that girl, because what is going on here? He shuffles a little closer, trying to hear better.

“He always refuses requests to talk.” He can't really pick out her voice, but it sounds kind of familiar. “You're close to him, so I figured maybe you could say something for me?”

That's it. Before he even realizes what he's doing, Kageyama is bursting out of the bushes, stomping across the dirt to a very shocked looking duo. Hinata seems to have forgotten he'd begged Kageyama to hide in the bushes, to be his backup in case something goes wrong, but at this point Kageyama doesn't care; he's pissed, he doesn't quite know why, and in a few strides he's towering over the both of them.

“This is about me?” He feels himself glaring. “Are you kidding? Why the hell do you think I've been rejecting you? It's because I'm not interested.” His hand shoots out and he grabs Hinata's arm. “This kid right here would be a better boyfriend than I would, and you don't even give a shit. Seriously, what is this?”

Her face goes from pale to bright red and she's stuttering. Kageyama knows, reasonably, the best thing to do would be to just blow her off, to take Hinata and get out of here, but he's angry because Hinata's gone through all the trouble to meet with this girl and she doesn't even care. For his part, Hinata looks apologetic, glancing from the girl to Kageyama, and somehow that ticks him off even more.

“You know, it's not like you'd even be good enough for him, anyway.” The words are out of his mouth before he cares enough to stop himself. “This kid might be a dumbass, but he's...he's...” He's what? My dumbass, Kageyama wants to say, but that's not the right words to use here. Hinata, he also wants to say, because Hinata is just Hinata, but that also doesn't explain anything.

He feels frustration bubbling up in his chest; picturing this girl with Hinata makes him grip the arm in his hand tighter, and Hinata whines and tells him to knock it off, but he won't, he's not going to, because this is stupid and Hinata's stupid and girls are stupid-

Kageyama kisses him.

He doesn't know why. It feels like something is propelling him forward, like he has to or else. Hinata's lips are stiff against his and then Kageyama's pulling back to a stunned pair of eyes staring at him, Hinata and the girl and this is the shittiest situation, he's pissed, he's horrified, he is dragging Hinata behind him and out the school gate. He doesn't look back, not even when Hinata tugs at his arm and tells him to stop, Kageyama, because he's left his bike behind.

They don't stop until they reach the park between their houses, when Kageyama finally releases Hinata's arm to slump onto the bench by the road. He drops his face into his hands because, just now, he's realizing what he's done. Nobody has ever seen them kiss before, he doesn't know why he did that but he'd just been so...so...

“Hey.” He feels Hinata sit next to him, nudge him with his elbow. “Stop sulking, stupid. I'm the one who should be sulking, I just got rejected by a girl who called me out because she wanted to talk to you. Seriously, even with your shitty personality...”

Strangely, Hinata doesn't seem too shaken up about it, though Kageyama can tell by the dejected look on his face when he glances over that at least a little upset.

“Sorry,” he says. He's not sure what he's apologizing for. Kissing Hinata in broad daylight in front of someone, probably. “Even if girls are shit...you know, there are people who...who like you, okay?”

There's a silence. He thinks maybe he's said something dumb, dumber than even things Hinata would say, but then there's a warm weight against his side and an “oof” as Hinata flops against him. Kageyama straightens a bit, looking down at Hinata grinning up at him.

“You're not that bad, I guess,” he says.

Neither of them mention the kiss as they sit there, into the evening. They nearly fall asleep when Kageyama finally rouses them, shaking Hinata's shoulder and saying he'll walk him home to make up for leaving his bike behind. It's late, even later when they get back, later still when Kageyama trudges up to his own door. He can still feel the warm pressure of Hinata against his side, and he spends the rest of the evening fighting down guilty relief that Hinata hasn't gotten a girlfriend. Only because she was a jerk, he tells himself.

He's laying down to go to sleep when he hears his phone vibrate. Usually Kageyama ignores texts, but it's late and unexpected and so he checks it, blinking at the sudden brightness of the screen.

“thanks,” it reads, “see u tomorrow!!!? ヾ(❛ε❛“)ʃ ”

Kageyama buries his face in his pillow. Hinata's an idiot.

Chapter Text

Kageyama isn't gay, but he doesn't quite like girls much, either. He's decided this after the incident with Hinata; he's still fuming days later, whenever he sees Hinata's cheerful face and frantic wave when he comes into view and right before they make a dash for the gym. He's off his game; Hinata is winning more than usual, and even he comments on how Kageyama must be getting out of shape. Kageyama grits his teeth and tugs at Hinata's hair, but he's right.

Hinata, for his part, is much the same. He's never really let anything get him down for long (Kageyama makes sure of it), but this seems to have bothered him even less than the usual things. Hinata's sulked for a week over a bad practice, but this misunderstood confession flies right over his head. He's been texting Kageyama more, too, after the one he may or may not still have saved in his phone. Kageyama rarely texts back, unless it's something that requires an answer, but he's grown used to the pointless selfies of Hinata with his sister, Hinata with ice cream, Hinata flipping off his math book. He reads all of them (“kageyama today there was this cute cat n it reminded me of you!!” “math is sooo boring kageyama” “u better sleep well bc im going to destroy you tomorrow in practice”) and even if he doesn't reply, he suspects somehow Hinata knows.

One thing has changed, though. They've been kissing more than usual.

Well, Hinata's been kissing more than usual. It's like that kiss in the school courtyard has opened a floodgate or something, and there's not a day that goes by without Hinata tugging him down and pressing their lips together. It's almost like he's not even thinking about it anymore, turning his head and planting one on Kageyama when they're sitting together at lunch. Kageyama doesn't really have a problem with this, at all, except for one thing.

Hinata does it in front of people.

The first time it happens, they're about to clean up after practice. It's been a good one, Kageyama feels excited and energetic despite the fatigue in his limbs, and from the way Hinata's bounding up to him and smiling he can tell the other boy feels the same way. He's expecting a high-five, or a running leap, but Hinata skids to a stop in front of him and suddenly Kageyama feels himself being pulled down. He's opening his mouth to ask “what the hell, Hinata” when he's stopped by a pair of warm lips on his.

Hinata pulls away a second later and bounces off like nothing's happened. He's about the only one, because at least five sets of eyes are trained on him.

“So, you and Hinata...” Nishinoya nudges him after practice, looking very serious. “I'll accept it, because that means more girls for us, but I didn't know you were gay.”

“I'm not gay!” The way it comes out of his mouth is a little too vehement, and the flush on his cheeks shouldn't be there, but Kageyama doesn't know what else to say. He isn't gay, Hinata isn't gay, and if neither of them are gay, then it doesn't mean anything.

“You say you're not gay, but I'm pretty sure all of us saw that disgusting PDA in the gym.” It's Tsukishima, towel around his neck, looking as smug as ever. “How do you explain that, King?”

“It's just...it's a thing Hinata does, okay, like how he sings when he has to pee or he always tries to put the straw in the wrong side of the juice box.” He doesn't know why his face feels so hot when it's the truth. “He's an idiot, he probably doesn't get it.”

Tsukishima seems to be considering this, and he shrugs, because he too knows the weird stuff Hinata does. “That explains him, I guess, but what about you?”

What about him? Kageyama keeps thinking about this even after he stomps out of the club room, Hinata trailing behind him and saying they should stop for snacks because he's really hungry. Kageyama honestly wants to be alone, and he's about to whirl around and snap at Hinata, but the oblivious look on his face just has him turning back around and sliding his hands in his pockets to look for spare change.

He should put a stop to it. They should stop kissing, if people think it's that weird. Kageyama tells himself this while they're sitting on a bench together, Hinata licking his fingers after their snack. Kageyama evades him easily when he leans over to steal a bite of the bread Kageyama's got in his hand. This is a very serious situation, he tells himself, and for some reason Hinata just does not get it.

They could stop cold turkey, but then Kageyama would probably have to explain why he's pushing Hinata away when he goes for a kiss after they've been doing this for months. Would that be weirder than just continuing? And after all, it had been Kageyama who'd...who'd...that time with the girl, right in front of her.

The worst thing, though, is how it feels when Kageyama considers stopping. His chest gets tight, and he feels like crawling into his bed and staying there. No more warm breath against his cheeks, no more fluffy hair tickling his forehead, no more Hinata's grinning face when they pull back.

A hand on his knee snaps him back to reality, and he quickly glances over at Hinata. Hinata's holding his bread in one hand, eyebrow raised. Kageyama's eyes fall back to his own hand, now empty without his realizing, and he flushes.

“Kageyama, you've been kind of weird today,” he says. “I even stole your bread and you didn't even notice.”

Kageyama goes to grab his bread, glaring, but Hinata pulls it back and suddenly they're wrestling on the bench, Kageyama slipping between Hinata's legs and reaching, reaching, he's almost got it-

And then there's a noise.

It startles him enough for him to look down, to see Hinata's red cheeks and stop long enough to realize the weird position they're in, on a bench in public. He scrambles to get up, but he's unwittingly putting more pressure on the area he's trying to get away from, and Hinata makes that weird noise again, between a gasp and a groan, and he's pushing at Kageyama's shoulders, face scarlet.

They untangle themselves, somehow; Kageyama doesn't know, only allowing himself to take deep gulps of fresh air when they're a decent distance from each other, staring at their laps. Hinata nudges him, holds out the bread he's stolen, catching the corner of Kageyama's eye with his own. At least this dumbass is aware of what a weird situation that had been, what could have happened if they'd-

Kageyama feels the blood rush to his face, again, and he's getting really tired of this being a frequent thing. He has to get his mind off of this, off of the way Hinata had squirmed underneath him.

There's a movement at his side and he's mercifully distracted by Hinata jumping up, smacking his hands on his cheeks. He takes off running, then, and Kageyama only takes a second of consideration before he's up and behind him, grateful for the way the strain on his muscles distracts him from certain other things. They run down the road, back and fourth three times before Hinata slumps, hands on his knees, and declares Kageyama to be the winner. Kageyama doesn't know what he's just won, exactly, but he isn't going to argue.

They walk the rest of the way home in relative silence, after Kageyama's given Hinata the rest of his bread because he suddenly isn't hungry anymore. The way Hinata's face lights up is infuriating; how he can be so enthusiastic about the stupidest little things always throws Kageyama for a loop. They part ways and he feels his face heat up again when he spots Hinata waving to him, cheeks pink, turning and skipping down the road like he does.

Kageyama's not gay, but if he were, Hinata would be kind of cute.

Chapter Text

As soon as he admits to himself that Hinata's cute, for a boy, things start standing out to Kageyama more than usual. Hinata bends over a lot in volleyball, trotting to grab a stray ball or die his shoes when the laces come undone. Kageyama's eyes fall on his butt, down the back of his thighs and the only thing that snaps him back to reality, makes him realize that he's staring, is the stark difference between the pale of Hinata's skin and the dark black of his knee pads. And that's far from the only incident. Hinata sits close, he's always sat close, but now Kageyama can feel where their bodies touch.

It's driving him crazy.

Hinata's driving him crazy, and they haven't even kissed. Not once, since the day at the park, the feeling of Hinata squirming underneath him still much too fresh in Kageyama's mind. He thinks that's the closest they've ever been, even when sharing a bed, and the way Hinata's body fits against his is...well, it's not something he tries to think about, but it happens.

Kageyama thinks about it, sometimes, what would happen if he and Hinata did start dating, in some crazy alternate universe where he was gay (he's not) and Hinata was gay (he is DEFINITELY not). What would be the difference? They'd hold hands, maybe, although they already used to do that, when Hinata's impatient to get somewhere and Kageyama feels like spiting him by walking slow. They'd kiss. They'd go places together? Kageyama doesn't really know what it's like to date someone, he contemplates as he turns his volleyball over in his hands, back on his bed. Thinking about dating Hinata, even hypothetically, makes his stomach twist, a sure sign that it's not what he wants. He jumps when his mother calls him for dinner, drops the volleyball on his face, and has to explain the bruised forehead to Hinata in the morning. Hinata laughs at him for the rest of the day.

Even Hinata's laugh is setting him on edge, though, and he doesn't know what's wrong with him.

He thought the fact that they're not kissing would help things, would make them less weird, set things back to normal. If anything, it makes it more awkward, because now, Hinata's being careful, too. Kageyama can tell; he can always tell when something's up with Hinata, the way he shifts from foot to foot with anxiety when he's standing still for too long in a situation that makes him uncomfortable, and he's been doing it an awful lot. When their hands brush, passing a ball to each other, Hinata looks shocked, like he's stuck his finger in an electric outlet. Kageyama hates that his cheeks heat up, hates that he probably looks as stupid as Hinata does, hates the looks their teammates have been passing between them, perplexed and like they're watching a sports match on TV.

It will pass, he tells himself. It will pass, things will be back to normal, Hinata will move on to the next thing like he always does. One week it's a certain brand of cereal, the next week it's an action show on TV. One month it's kissing Kageyama, the next month it's refusing to maintain eye contact for too long.

It's better this way, Kageyama tells himself. Neither of them are gay, and if they pressed that any futher, things could get weird. It's not like he wants to kiss Hinata; he doesn't think about it when they're studying together, Hinata crouched over his textbook on the floor, chewing at the tip of his pencil. Kageyama doesn't want to kiss Hinata.

Kageyama really wants to kiss Hinata.

It's itching at him, if he's honest, like something under his skin, seeing Hinata so close and grinning at him, punching him in the arm a little too hard because he's always a little too enthusiastic. Kageyama's fingers twitch to just grab Hinata's face, to smash their lips together. He thinks about how Hinata would look, sometimes, wide-eyed and surprised before closing his eyes and-

He's not going to go there.

Tsukishima's calling him sexually frustrated, and he's not, he's definitely not, even if he's been waking up some nights unbearably hard and angry at his dick for doing this to him. It's not like Kageyama doesn't get urges, sometimes—he's a teenage boy—but it's been more frequent than usual, and he's worried his mother is going to ask him why the hell he's been taking so many showers. Whenever he finishes, he feels annoyed and weirdly guilty, not for any particular reason (seriously, it's not like he's thinking about anyone specific...) and he'd really rather this whole thing be over and done with. He just wants to focus on volleyball.

Think of the court, he tells himself, the sound of sneakers on the floor, yeah, those sorts of things. Think about the sting of your palm against the ball. He's doing his best to do exactly that, right now, Hinata sitting across from him on the bed and penciling out math problems.

“Do you get this, Kageyama?” he's asking, sounding exasperated. “No, nevermind, you suck at math even more than I do.”

Kageyama doesn't even have the will to argue, chin propped on his hand and staring very intently at a wrinkle on the sheets and not at Hinata's bare knee, fresh from a bath. He's come over directly after practice to study, greeted dotingly by Kageyama's parents, who tell Kageyama to treat his guest nicely like they do every single time Hinata comes over, like they think he's going to snap and kill him or something. He's Kageyma's first close friend, sure, but he doesn't think he's that bad.

“Kageyama! Hey, Kageyama!”

Glancing up, Kageyama notices a pencil being waved in front of his face, following it with his eyes for a moment before refocusing on Hinata, crouched in front of him and too close. He's shuffled across the bed, book kneed aside.

“Your mom said to treat your guest nicely,” which is what Hinata always says when he comes over and Kageyama does something like ignore him or shove him off the bed or kick him on the couch. “Don't ignore me! I said you suck at math and you don't even have anything to say at that?”

Kageyama's being prodded with the pencil, tip digging into his arm. Hinata's face is too near to his, looking him in the eyes, looking completely and totally oblivious to the torture he's putting Kageyama through right now, and something just snaps. Before he knows it, Kageyama's tackling Hinata to the bed, roughly tousling his hair as Hinata kicks and...laughs? He's laughing, that asshole, kneeing Kageyama in the stomach, but he's not going to go down that easily.

Something in Kageyama's stomach unknots, stress falling away while Hinata shoves at his shoulders and blows raspberries at Kageyama's face to get him off. He almost smiles, almost, because this is what he likes, the way he likes things, the way he likes Hinata. He knows exactly what to do in this situation.

Hinata is ticklish. He's extremely ticklish, actually, which isn't really all that surprising given how touch-oriented he is with everything else. All Kageyama has to do is poke at his sides and he's snorting, swatting the hand away and screwing his face up in a “no fair” expression. It's playing dirty, and Kageyama knows it, but he thinks Hinata deserves it for being such a beautiful idiot.

As soon as Kageyama's fingers extend to his sides, Hinata's pushing at him in a panic, trying to shove him off. It's too late, though; Kageyama's feeling smug as his fingers press in against Hinata's sides, against his shirt.

The way Hinata thrashes and sputters a laugh is enough to send Kageyama's stomach in a fit of butterflies. Maybe he should stop, he thinks, feeling entranced at the flush spreading over Hinata's face as he tries to push Kageyama off. He's wheezing, huffing out “Kageyama! Not fair!” and it's way too easy to imagine something else, to imagine the look on Hinata's face that one time they'd kissed in the living room, with tongues, the way Hinata had felt on the bench beneath him.

Suddenly, it's not so fun anymore.

Kageyama's fingers have stilled, and Hinata pauses to catch his breath, looking up suspiciously. He's expecting Kageyama to renew his assault, but he doesn't, can't, he's too busy staring at the boy beneath him.

“Kageyama...?” Hinata's sounding a little worried now, like he thinks Kageyama is having a stroke or something, which he just might be. His chest feels funny, he feels too warm where their limbs touch. He goes to move back, but in his haste, he fails to notice Hinata's knee raised right underneath him.

As luck would have it, that knee brushes the exact spot it really, really should not.

And Kageyama groans.

He's quick to realize his mistake, a split second later, and he bubbles out a “shit, fuck” as he tries to scramble back, lifting his hips, wondering why he's not moving. It takes him a second to stop panicking enough to notice fingers clutching his arms, tight, and when his eyes flick back down, Hinata's looking at him with an unreadable expression.

The knee beneath him is rubbing, and he's trying to get away from it before something happens, before...

He looks down between them, trying to see what's going on, and there it is. Something has happened. Something so awful, so unspeakable, so embarrassing, that he wants to run out of here, to keep running until he dies, maybe. Why the hell does Hinata's knee keep rubbing against him when he's trying to move away from it?

Maybe because Hinata's moving it on his own.

Kageyama stares down at him, at the flush on Hinata's cheeks eyes traveling to where Hinata's uncertainly gripping his arms. The knee against his growing erection feels good, beyond good, and if he doesn't stop this he's going to do something stupid. Something like grind down against Hinata's knee, making a noise low in his throat.

He moves his hips experimentally, down against Hinata's knee. Hinata does not move back; it feels like he presses harder, as Kageyama moves again. It feels so good, better than when he's in the shower, and he knows it's not the technique because he's really just humping against Hinata's leg, so it's probably Hinata himself making him feel like this, like his skin is on fire and his stomach is full of fireflies.

There's a hand on his hair, petting it, slow and light like Hinata's not sure what he's doing as Kageyama grinds down against him.

This is fucked up. This is so fucked up, and Kageyama can't do this, he can't do it, it's Hinata-

He's out the door before he realizes he's even off the bed. He ends up running past his mother asking if they want snacks, and where is he going, where's Hinata? He's slipping his sneakers on at the door, not even bothering to tie them, and then Kageyama's feet are pounding the ground outside and his chest feels like it's going to burst, even though he's barely gone far at all, and he keeps running. He keeps running until, finally, he trips on his untied shoelace, sprawling across the dirt and scraping his cheek, his palms, his knee.

Kageyama lies there for ten minutes, face-down in the dirt, catching his breath. It's getting dark when he gets up and trudges back home, thinking of how he can explain this to Hinata, what he can say about what just happened in his bedroom. He feels disgusting, like he's just taken advantage of someone, and doesn't know if he's going to be able to face those stupid trusting wide eyes.

It turns out he doesn't have to worry about that, because when he gets in, Hinata's gone. His mother said Hinata claimed he had to go home, his mother had called him, and asks if they had a fight. Kageyama doesn't even bother to answer, slams the door behind him and flopping face first onto his bed.

He is the shittiest friend in the world.

Chapter Text

The next day is a Sunday, the most merciful Sunday of Kageyama's life because he can prolong his contact with Hinata. He's miserable throughout it, sulking around the house until his mother tells him to go out and get some fresh air because “you're driving me nuts”. He goes out, but he's too terrified of mysteriously running into Hinata that he just stays around outside his home, kicking rocks that he pretends are himself because that's what he really, really would like to do.

His phone vibrates every so often, so he stuffs it into his sock drawer and pretends it's not there. He has a digital alarm clock, he doesn't need that phone, and he considers flushing it down the toilet just to make sure he never sees the disgusted texts Hinata is most likely sending him.

Kageyama doesn't know what's wrong with him, he doesn't know why thinking about Hinata makes him warm all the way through his stomach. They're just friends, and he only wants to be friends. His body is misbehaving, and he hates it. His body is the one thing he's supposed to be able to control, and now it's acting weird.

On Monday morning, he tries to convince his mom he's sick, faking a cough and trying to look as miserable as possible, which isn't really all that hard, considering how miserable he really does feel. She kicks him out, telling him to make up with his friend before she has to do it for him. Kageyama is left trudging down the street, hands shoved deep in his pockets, trying to prolong the inevitable.

But he has to get there eventually, and he doesn't want to miss practice, not even because of Hinata. It's hard, he actually considers it, but eventually he makes it through the front gate and into the gym.

Hinata is already there, already dressed and already warming up. He doesn't look over when Kageyama passes, but maybe he just hasn't noticed. Kageyama doesn't know which is worse, really.

Practice is awful. He might as well have skipped, because he and Hinata are so off that Daichi sighs, rubs his temples, and tells them both to sit out. They sit on opposite ends of the bench, Hinata playing with the hem of his shorts and looking almost as miserable as Kageyama probably does, when he chances a look out of the corner of his eye. That's when Kageyama knows he's blown it, that he has done something really wrong. He doesn't know how to fix it.

They don't eat lunch together; Kageyama skips passing by Hinata's classroom, and Hinata doesn't come to find him. Afternoon practice is as bad as morning practice, and Daichi pulls him aside and tells him that whatever's going on between him and Hinata needs to get fixed, pronto. He just hangs his head and nods, because he honestly doesn't know how to.

By the time he leaves, Hinata's already gone. He walks home, feeling weirdly lonely, although he used to do this all the time before they got close. He misses someone next to him, chattering away about things he doesn't really care about, just likes to hear Hinata's voice. It's stupid, but not being around him makes Kageyama anxious, makes him want to pace back and forth, which he does for about twenty minutes when he gets home.

He's thinking about the phone in his sock drawer.

This could be a chance to see how much damage control he can attempt, to see how much Hinata hates him. He can probably still play it off as a mistake, he tells himself, because it hadn't exactly been one-sided, right? He wants to kick himself over the hopeful surge in his chest.

Kageyama tries doing homework five times before he gives up, pads over to his sock drawer, and yanks the phone out.

He has 23 messages, and 5 voicemails.

There's no way he's ready to explicitly hear Hinata's voice turning him down, telling him off, so he checks the messages, first. He steels himself, prepares himself for the worst, but even that doesn't prepare him for what he finds himself looking at.

“kageyama i'm really sorry, that was weird wasn't it??? idk what i was doing, if you're mad you can hit me”

“i guess maybe ur in the shower? or maybe you're really really mad at me”

“we should talk”

“i'm sorry!!! i'll buy you milk boxes for a week!!!!! m(。≧ _ ≦。)m “

The rest of the messages, all of them, were like that, and Kageyama suddenly feels even more awful than before, because Hinata must have thought he hated him. Hinata was just as miserable as he was for something stupid that didn't even mean anything. Kageyama hates texting, normally just ignores it and deals with it face-to-face at school, but he types out a message with fingers trembling from the need to do it fast and the anxiety of what he's going to say, because he really doesn't know. Does he go casual? Does he apologize too? He's never been in this situation before.

In the end, he just types out “buy me milk and i'll buy you meat buns” and hits send before he can back out. He flops on his bed on his stomach, shoves his face into the pillow. He's not expecting a reply, but it comes less than a minute later.

“i thought you hated me forever stupid kageyama!! check your phone next time, you didn't even talk to me all day and i hated it ( p_q) i was so scared you were gonna punch me i ended up puking haha”

That's not a “haha”, but somehow it makes Kageyama relieved to know that Hinata had been in the same boat as him. He hadn't puked, but he's not Hinata. There's another notification from his phone; a picture attached, and he opens it, curious.

Hinata's sticking his tongue out in stark contrast to the heart he's making with his hands, a “you suck” attached as an explanation.

This is the first time Hinata's ever sent a picture of himself, and it feels weird. Kageyama never texts, really, never does anything with his phone, so he forgets it's possible to do this sort of thing. He considers sending a picture back, but he's not sure what he'd do, and he's never really liked photos of himself. He's about to put the phone down, to call it a night now that he's resolved the issue and can sleep again, when there's another vibration.

Hinata is demanding a picture, complete with childish emoji.

He could ignore it, like he usually does, but Kageyama's feeling emotionally vulnerable, especially to the picture he has saved to his phone, just in case he ever needs a picture of Hinata sticking his tongue out. He lies back on his bed, head against his pillow, and thinks. He doesn't know how to take pictures of himself well.

Eventually, he settles for covering the lower half of his face with his hand, snapping a photo, and sending it before he can change his mind.

Kageyama's expecting Hinata to stop now, appeased, but a few minutes later he gets another notification. He's feeling a lot calmer now, especially compared to earlier, until he reads Hinata's message.

It's very simple, two words, and it is probably completely innocent, but Kageyama's been having trouble lately and hadn't had much sleep and his mind twists the “come over” message he's gotten into something that sounds wrong and weird and sets his heart beating too fast. He could ignore it, he could tell Hinata hell no, but...the truth is, he wants to see Hinata. They hadn't talked all day, and something still feels off, rolling around in the pit of his stomach.

He's out the door before he can change his mind, not even bothering to change out of his practice clothes from earlier. He knows the way to Hinata's house by heart, allowing his mind to wander. Hinata probably wants to make up, to talk about what they hadn't talked about during school; homework, volleyball, the usual. He does this sometimes, spontaneously asking Kageyama to come over, and even though he always threatens that it's the last time, Kageyama goes again and again.

He's greeted at the door by Hinata before he can even knock.

“Kageyama!” He sounds breathless, grabbing Kageyama's arm and dragging him in. He allows himself to be ushered to Hinata's room, door closed behind him and then Hinata's rocking on his heels, holding out a plate of cookies.

“I made them,” he says, grinning. “Well, my mom made them. I kind of helped but she made me leave when I tried eating the dough.” One of the cookies has a bite out of it, and Kageyama glances back at Hinata, who supplies “Natsu” with an apologetic shrug.

Hinata's wearing the same clothes as in the photo he'd sent, Kageyama's mind points out as they sit down on the bed together. Hinata's watching a little too eagerly as Kageyama takes a bite of the cookie, keeps watching until Kageyama rolls his eyes and tells Hinata to just eat some, already, and he's beaming again.

“I'm sorry about last night,” he says, mouth full of crumbs. “I guess I got kind of...curious...I mean, that happens to everyone, right?” He gulps down the cookie, suddenly looking nervous.

It happens to everyone. He's right, Kageyama tells himself. Even when his mother had given him The Talk, she'd said it's okay to try new things, as long as he was safe. He was definitely safe with Hinata; after all, they're both boys. Hinata is watching, playing with his fingers, while Kageyama slowly nods.

“So...” Hinata shifts, pulling his legs up and crossing them on the bed. He's picking at the sheets with his fingers. “So...well, did you hate it?”

Kageyama wants to immediately shout no, he hadn't hated it, far from it, but his mouth is full of cookie and that probably saves him from embarrassing himself further. Instead he looks away, swallows, and then shrugs. “We didn't really do anything.”

“Yeah, but...we could, if you wanted.” Kageyama's eyes snap up to Hinata, who is looking at his knees very closely like he's found something intensely interesting. “Not that I want to, or anything, but if you wanted to-”

Experimenting, he tells himself. Hinata wants to do it. It had felt good, and to be honest, he hasn't been able to get it out of his head. He thinks, maybe, if they try it once, he'll be able to get over it.

So he nods, realizes Hinata isn't looking at him and can't see it, and clears his throat. Hinata peeks up at him, cheeks flushed.

“I guess,” Kageyama says, voice a little dry. From the cookies.

Chapter Text

“Last night,” Hinata starts, and the way he's licking his lips has Kageyama looking away. It's difficult to focus with Hinata under him like this, lying back on his own bed. “It was like this, right?”

Kageyama had been forced to stand there and watch as Hinata crawled back, positioned himself on his bed and then tugged Kageyama over to crawl on top of him. That's where he is now, head hanging low, trying to keep breathing when Hinata's so close and he knows what they're probably going to do. Hinata looks strangely calm, although the blush dusting his cheeks is a little reassuring.

There's a hand on Kageyama's hip, suddenly, and he jumps. He doesn't know why he's so on edge, because they'd been like this just the night before, although he'd bolted directly after. Somehow, seeing Hinata like this, willing sprawled out on his back and fresh out of a shower has Kageyama's heart pounding out of his chest and his blood going to all the wrong places. Or right, depending on what exactly Hinata's planning on doing.

Hinata's fingers are warm against Kageyama's hip through his shorts. If it's any consolation, he looks about as awkward as Kageyama feels, although Hinata's always been the one to just jump right ahead, into whatever whim he's entertaining. Kageyama lets himself be tugged along most of the time.

This is completely normal, he tells himself again, still staring down at Hinata, the curve of his nose and the way his bangs spill over his forehead. There are his lips, too, moving like he's saying something—he is saying something.

“Kageyama?” he repeats. “Um, I don't really know how you want to do this, so...”

There's a sudden pressure against Kageyama's lower regions, rubbing against his inner thigh where his skin is visible under his shorts. He's purposely keeping it safe, Kageyama can tell, touching their skin together. It's kind of annoying how careful Hinata is being, like Kageyama's some blushing virgin or something, and that thought shouldn't even be crossing his mind because they aren't even doing anything, really. They're just...testing things. Hands won't even come into play, so it's safe.

Kageyama's head dips lower when Hinata's knee tentatively presses up against his crotch, and although he's not really hard yet, he's starting to get excited. It's weird, because there really is nothing going on, just Hinata under him and touching him and so, so close, and he smells like soap and whatever else it is that Hinata smells like. Kageyama doesn't want to look away from him, even though he's more embarrassed than he probably has ever been in his life.

Suddenly, Hinata's got an arm over his face and he's making this horrible whining noise, and Kageyama almost scrambles off in panic when he thinks he's done something wrong.

“You're making this so embarrassing!” is what Hinata says, though, “This is totally one-sided, get off of me-”

As soon as Hinata says that, Kageyama realizes that's the last thing he wants to do. They've been like this for long enough, and Hinata's doing his best, so Kageyama has to step up and not let himself be outshined. He grits his teeth, sets his jaw, and rolls his hips down, just enough to rub against Hinata's raised knee.

Hinata peeks over his arm, eyes suddenly intense and focused on Kageyama's. There's still a hint of uncertainty behind them, but when Kageyama does it again, pressure more insistent, Hinata finally lets his arm fall back to his side.

The hand on Kageyama's hip tightens, fingers slide under the hem of his shirt and over his quickly-heating skin. It feels good, smooth and cool against him, and then suddenly Hinata's knee is pressing up into Kageyama's groin, grinding against it with a little more force. With that, he's definitely starting to feel it.

And Hinata notices, if the look on his face is anything to go by. His eyes flicker from uncertain to something else; his other hand slides up to Kageyama's other hip, gripping tightly, shifting to get a better angle to knee what's tenting in Kageyama's shorts.

He lets out a soft hiss when the pressure is just right and rocks his hips down against Hinata's knee, dipping his head so their foreheads touch. He's overwhelmed, suddenly, with Hinata's eyes locking onto his, hair soft and breath puffing up against Kageyama's cheeks.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, quiet, and Kageyama doesn't know what to say so he just pushes his hips down again.

It's better than good; Kageyama remembers how easily he'd gotten too excited with Hinata squirming under him, accidentally brushing a place he shouldn't, except now he's not worrying about stopping it or moving away and it's amazing. It's more the fact that it's Hinata's body he's rutting against than anything, and it makes the heat coil in his stomach and pleasure shoot up his spine as his eyes slide closed and his breath starts to come faster.

Kageyama presses down harder, harder, as Hinata's knee pushes up into him and it's getting hard to think straight, Hinata's hands pushing him to go more and more. He barely registers what he's doing, really, lost in the sensation and tinge of embarrassment that he's literally just humping against his best friend's leg, urged on like it's something they do normally.

“Jeez, you're really hard,” Hinata grunts, breathless, digging his fingers into Kageyama's hips and rubbing his knee just right, and Kageyama's breathing out “there, there” and Hinata does it again once, twice, before Kageyama's suddenly coming undone, unexpected and startling, heat flooding his body and butterflies in his stomach.

He hangs there for a moment as Hinata's knee goes still, pressed against him, feeling his shirt start to stick to his back with the intense onslaught of heat. His arms are shaking trying to hold himself up, but he doesn't want to drop and maybe crush Hinata, who looks so small under him when he opens his eyes and stares down. Hinata looks just about as surprised as he feels, like he doesn't know what to say, and honestly neither does Kageyama. He moves, starting to feel the sticky slickness in his shorts, wrinkles his nose and goes to shuffle back.

Suddenly, there's a noise, small and startled. Hinata's looking up at him, face flushed and hair starting to stick to his heated skin, and then Kageyama shifts and there it is again, the noise coming from Hinata's mouth. It takes Kageyama a few seconds too long to realize that he's causing it, every time he moves just so, because his knee is pressed right next to something hard and warm and hard and he is overcome with the sudden realization that he's making contact with Hinata's dick.

He doesn't know what to do. What is the proper protocol in this situation? A situation where he's made his best friend hard by jacking off rubbing against his leg like some dog in heat, the gravity of which is starting to hit him and make his cheeks burn even brighter. Does he help him out? Would Hinata want that?

The way Hinata's looking up at him, needy and flushed, makes him think yeah, Hinata could maybe want that.

Kageyama could do the same for Hinata as Hinata had done for him, but he finds himself doing something unexpected, something he doesn't know why he's doing. His hand is raising from the bed as he sits back, crouching, ignoring the growing coldness in his shorts. He can see the quite visible bulge in Hinata's, now, watches as Hinata looks away, finally embarrassed.

“Sorry,” he says, “I guess that's kind of awkward, I can go take care of it-” But Kageyama doesn't let him finish. Hinata cuts off his sentence with a whine and tosses his head back when Kageyama grinds the heel of his palm down against the smooth fabric of Hinata's shorts.

He watches, noticing the way the shorts ride up on Hinata's legs, strong thigh muscles quivering on places Kageyama doesn't usually see but really wishes he could, follows the folds and wrinkles of fabric up to where his hand is causing it, rubbing against the outline of Hinata's dick under his pants. Hinata's noisy. This doesn't really come as much of a surprise, because Hinata is always noisy, whether they're watching movies, eating lunch, or doing...whatever it is they're doing right now. His hands have come to grip the bedspread next to him, and his hips push up against Kageyama's wandering fingers.

Kageyama has never felt another boy's dick before. He's felt his own, sure, but this is new; an entirely different angle, and it's Hinata, and it's honestly fascinating to watch the things he can cause with just a certain movement of his hand or grinding his palm down especially hard in just the right place.

It takes him a moment to realize what Hinata's mumbling, but when he does, he can't stop hearing it. “Kageyama” whispered over and over again in that tone of voice is making his heart thud in his chest, his head swim, and if he hadn't just come all over the inside of his shorts he'd probably be getting hard again. It's just Hinata, he tells himself, he says Kageyama's name all the time, but it's different when it sounds like this.

He'd never expected someone like Hinata could make those kinds of noises.

Hinata's pressing up desperately against him, back arching against the sheets and eyes squeezed shut. He's spreading his legs wider, giving Kageyama more access. His eyes slide open, lock on Kageyama's when Kageyama looks to his face to watch his expression.

Hinata's mouth is opening, closes and opens again as his breath quickens, and Kageyama expects to hear another weirdly-hot utterance of his name. He's so into drawing the sounds out and watching it happen that it doesn't quite register when the words fall out of Hinata's mouth.

“Kageyama,” he says, expected, and then, less expected, “I...think I really like you.”

And then suddenly his hips are stuttering and he gives one more hard rock up and Kageyama watches as he falls back against the sheets, panting and sweaty.

It feels like it's way too short, but also way too long, and when he's finished Kageyama doesn't really know what to do. Hinata looks absolutely spent, back against the sheets like that. They should probably clean up, because Kageyama is starting to feel kind of gross, but when he reaches up to nudge Hinata, his eyes remain resolutely closed.

Maybe he's fallen asleep. Kageyama wouldn't put it past him, really. He hadn't gotten much himself worrying about what had happened the night before, and judging by all the messages Hinata had sent, the case was the same for him.

Kageyama hadn't been planning on spending the night, so he figures he should probably get going, but leaving Hinata here like this feels weird and not quite right. He doesn't know what else to do, though; he can't exactly pull Hinata's shorts down and clean him up (just the thought makes blood rush to his face). It's Hinata's own stupid fault for falling asleep, isn't it?

He ends up shifting Hinata enough to pull the blankets up around him, tucks him in and brushes the hair from his face. He looks kind of nice when he's sleeping, especially looking like this. Kageyama's out the door minutes later, trying to walk normally with the mess in his pants, telling Hinata's mother thank you for the cookies and that Hinata had fallen asleep. He's worried she'll be suspicious, for a moment, but she just sighs and shakes her head because, apparently, this is a thing that happens pretty often.

It's not until Kageyama is halfway home, trying not to focus on how uncomfortable it is, when he realizes something, and the words flit through his head again.

“I think I really like you.”

Oh, shit.

Chapter Text

The words “I think I really like you” echo in Kageyama's head all night, all morning, the entire way to school. He's expecting things to be weird between him and Hinata, but it's more or less the same when they meet up at the gate, Hinata goading him into racing to the gym and tackling him in an attempt to pull his pants down for winning. For a brief second when Hinata's arms are around him, Kageyama remembers what they'd done the night before, but then it's just warm and soft and Hinata and it feels more relieving than he knows what to do with.

They're just friends. That's what Hinata had meant, obviously. Kageyama tells this to himself over and over while they sit together, while Hinata leans against his shoulder and talks about how hard math is and tries to toss pretzels into his mouth. Kageyama tells himself to act normal, because nothing is different, he's reading too much into this, there's no way Hinata would Like like him, ever, even if he was into boys, which he can't be, because he's Hinata.

Kageyama certainly does not like him back, because liking him back would mean too many things if Hinata even likes him in the first place, which Kageyama is still absolutely sure he doesn't. It's hard enough for Kageyama to admit he likes Hinata as a friend, when he's hardly had any real friends. Hinata is too nice, too funny, too enthusiastic and supportive and infuriating. It's not possible. The way Hinata doesn't act any differently just confirms it; Kageyama thinks that if someone like likes someone else, they'd at least be a little more obvious about it, right?

There is one thing that's off, though. Sometimes Kageyama will catch Hinata looking at him out of the corner of his eye, fidgeting like he wants something and Kageyama doesn't want to ask what it is. Hinata gets this way when he's nervous, before a big match, and most of the time Kageyama's perfectly ready to step up and slap some sense into him, but now, when he sees that look on Hinata's face directed towards him when he thinks Kageyama isn't looking, it makes his stomach drop nervously, and he ends up talking too much too fast to avoid anything Hinata's thinking about saying.

Hinata doesn't like me, he says to himself whenever they're together, in the morning, in the afternoon, after practice when Sugawara and Daichi finally pull him aside to talk about the weird air between him and Hinata.

“There's nothing going on between us,” he says, gruff, crossing his arms over his chest. “We didn't fight, if that's what you're asking.”

Daichi and Suga exchange looks. “Not fighting, exactly, but are you sure something didn't happen between the two of you?” Suga sounds like he's trying to word it carefully, Daichi nodding along like he knows he'd make a mess of things if he tries to ask.

“We just want to make sure that everything is alright. You've been playing fine, that's not the reason!” Suga says, quickly, when Kageyama's scowl deepens and he opens his mouth to defend himself. “We talked to Hinata as well, and-”

“Did he say anything?” The words are tumbling out of Kageyama's mouth before he can remind himself that nothing weird is going on between them.

“Just that there's nothing going on between the two of you.” It's Daichi, this time, and he sounds a little exasperated. “I swear, if the two of you-”

“Daichi!” Suga elbows him, hard, which is something Kageyama has only ever seen Suga brave enough to do. He fixes a soft smile back on Kageyama. “You know we're always here to talk, right?”

Daichi clears his throat. “Both of you have been a little off, lately. Of course, as captain I'm concerned about the way the team works together, but I also want you two to be doing the best for yourselves. Understand?”

Kageyama feels like he's just been reprimanded by his parents, bows his head and feels his cheeks heat up. “Hinata's just hard to read sometimes,” he admits, finally, voice low.

“Hinata's not hard to-” Daichi is cut off by another elbow in the side, clears his throat again. “Why don't you just talk to him about it?”

That's the problem, though. Kageyama can't talk to him about it. He doesn't want to talk to him about it. He's terrified of what might happen if he does talk to him about it, about the fact that he likes kissing him just a little more than he probably should, that Hinata's all he can think about sometimes. And last night...last night was awful, the worst, because they'd been so close and he's seen images of Hinata he can't get out of his head and, even scarier, wants to see again.

There's a hand on his shoulder, suddenly, and Kageyama jumps, flushing. He prays Suga and Daichi can't read minds, although sometimes it seems like Suga can. “Sorry,” he grumbles, “We'll work it out.”

And with that, he's sent off, glad to escape and probably never, ever do anything as embarrassing as that ever again in his life. He's planning on going home, crawling into bed and dying, when he sees Hinata outside the gates, scuffing his sneakers in the dirt next to his bike. He could have easily gone home, and Kageyama's sor of surprised he didn't.

Kageyama almost stops, turns back, runs away, but that would be weird. That would be admitting something is different, so he keeps on going, pushing forward, until he sees Hinata's head snap up and a lopsided smile pass over his face.

“Stupid, did you seriously wait here the whole time?” There's a warmth spreading through his chest just seeing Hinata waiting for him and he hates it, but at the same time, he doesn't. He wants to walk home with Hinata. He wants to eat lunch and have sleepovers and hold hands—Kageyama shoves his hands in his pockets where they will be safe.

Instead, he cocks his head to the side. “Let's go,” he says, and then he's striding through the gate, Hinata scrambling to keep up behind him. He slows his pace a little, allowing Hinata to fall into step more easily, since he does have his bike with him and all. He's really close, right there, Kageyama could touch him.

Hinata does it first, jamming his hand into Kageyama's pocket and lacing their fingers, balancing his bike with the other. It's warm, if a little clammy, and when the angle gets a little awkward because of their height. Kageyama allows his hand to slip out of his pocket to hang freely at his side.

Today, Hinata is more fidgety than usual. He swings their hands between them, taps his thumb against Kageyama, chews at his lip. Kageyama can tell he's thinking about something, because he does the same thing when they're trying to study before he groans and falls on his back, declaring it's too hard and he gives him. Kageyama almost smiles at that, and then remembers Hinata on his back in a different situation and suddenly Hinata's hand is too hot in his and he wants to let go.

He pulls his hand away.

Hinata looks up at him. This is the first time Kageyama's ever done that since they started doing this sort of thing, and he looks startled, like he doesn't know what to do.

“Kageyama,” he says, finally, steps faltering until he stops completely. “Are you mad at me? Well no, I guess if you were mad I'd probably know it, right?” The uncertain grin Hinata gives him sends Kageyama's heart into overdrive, pounding away in his chest. Don't bring it up, he wills, don't bring it up, don't bring it up-

“Uh...about what I said last night.” He's brought it up. “Um, sorry, it doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to, you know? I was just-”

“Of course it doesn't mean anything,” Kageyama blurts out, hands curling into fists as he feels his face turn red. It doesn't mean anything, he says to himself, of course it doesn't, he doesn't want it to. “I...like you too. That's why we work so well in practice together.” It feels like he's forcing the words out of his mouth, 'I like you too,' but it's true. He's never said this to anyone, because he hasn't had many friends to say it to, and none he really felt like sharing that with. He thinks he might have said it once, when he was very little, but he can't remember how that had even ended up.

The grin that spreads over Hinata's face rivals the sun, which is the stupidest thing Kageyama's thought in quite a while, but it's true. He's beaming and grabbing for Kageyama's hand again, and Kageyama, for some reason, lets him. His stomach feels fluttery and his heart is pounding for absolutely no reason, except maybe the fact that this is the first time he's declared such a thing to a friend. Just a friend, of course. Hinata really likes him, and he really likes Hinata, too. He'll leave out the “really” part for now.

When they go to part ways, Hinata releases his hand and Kageyama turns to go, ready to wave at him, but he's being pulled down and Hinata's lips are pressed against his own. He's still smiling wide when he pulls back and waves, yelling over his shoulder as he hops on his bike and starts on his own way home. Kageyama doesn't catch what he's saying, too busy pressing his fingers against his lips to feel the warmth that's spreading through them.

They've kissed before, but this is different, somehow. He can still feel Hinata smiling against his mouth.

Chapter Text

Everything should be resolved, back to normal between him and Hinata. They're back to working well during practice, and Suga gives him a smile when they meet eyes, a little thumbs up that has Kageyama bowing his head and trying to hide the pink on his cheeks. Nothing's going on between them, he reminds himself. Things should be normal.

And they are, mostly. Hinata's chipper, energetic, overly-enthusiastic as always, ready to race at a moment's notice, and Kageyama wants to be relieved, he really does. And he would be, probably, if it weren't for the eyes he feels on him, focused intently, from time to time. It's mostly during practice, when he suddenly feels a prickle on his spine and turns to see Hinata staring at him, ball clutched absently between his hands.

It's not like it's unusual for Hinata to stare; he does it when he wants something, but this isn't his regular “toss to me” stare or his “share your food with me” stare. It's a stare that's blank, thoughtful, and one he breaks as soon as Kageyama catches him doing it. Because of it, Kageyama finds himself staring back, noticing things he hasn't bothered to focus on before, like the way the light shines on Hinata's hair, the way his eyes glint when he's focused on the ball, the movement of his muscles as he jumps.

They are things he can't stop thinking about, and Hinata doesn't make it any easier. If anything, he's been closer lately, sitting pressed up against Kageyama's side during lunch, leaning over him way too easily to grab things. He'll stick his hands right in Kageyama's pockets to get change for the vending machine, and Kageyama has to tell himself it doesn't matter, Hinata's absent-minded touching doesn't do anything to him. He can ignore it; maybe he's just being more sensitive than usual, because Hinata's always been rather touchy. He thought he'd gotten used to it, but maybe not.

Kageyama goes about his days like this, trying to ignore Hinata's pensive stares and the way he practically throws himself into Kageyama's arms (in front of everyone) when they make a perfect play. Kageyama has to stop himself from getting into it, lifting Hinata into the air like he's almost done three times now. He just gets caught up in Hinata's stupid idiot energy, he tells himself, before shoving him away and pointedly ignoring Hinata's hurt pout.

Other than that, though, things are normal. There is no awkward air between them, they're getting along fine, and Hinata even seems more cheerful than usual, if possible. He challenges Kageyama to a race every time they walk somewhere together, and while Kageyama protests, he ends up getting swept along. That's how they end up panting and bent over near the bike racks one day after after practice, Hinata's fumbling with the lock for his bike like he does every single day. Kageyama's getting impatient, figures he'll leave Hinata there to finish while he grabs something he'd forgotten from his locker.

He's leaning in, fishing out the papers he needs, when there's a noise from behind him. It's late, nobody should still be here, and he turns to see Hinata with his hands in his pockets.

“I got it unlocked,” he says, looking around like he's very interested in the lockers. “Are you done?”

Kageyama closes the locker and nods, straightening up and stuffing the papers into his bag. He's starting to say they should get going, that he'll buy meat buns for them on the way home since Hinata didn't fuck up during practice for once, when his back is suddenly up against the lockers and there are hands clutching tight at the fabric of his jacket.

It barely registers what's happening when there's the wet sound of Hinata's mouth opening against his, and Kageyama, startled and dazed, unthinkingly follows suit, moving his lips in a way he hadn't really known he's able to do. He feels his eyes sliding closed, Hinata warm against him, breathing together, when there's something warm and wet sliding along his bottom lip.

Hinata pulls back, suddenly, licking his lips with an unreadable expression on his face. He wipes at the corner of his mouth with his sleeve and then suddenly he's bouncing back, waving Kageyama after him and talking about how he's going to get the most expensive meat bun (“they're all the same price, dumbass”) while Kageyama follows behind him, cheeks warm and not really understanding what has just happened.

After that, it happens again, again, and again, Hinata's kisses getting longer every time before he pulls away smiling like he knows something that Kageyama's not in on, and more than once Kageyama almost yells, almost asks him what the hell is so great, but the tingling in his mouth and on his lips maybe answers it for him. It's not bad, he doesn't mind it (wants to continue, wants to pull Hinata closer and keep going) so he lets it slide. He figures if things go on like this, it's okay. It's not hurting anything, they're just testing things, it's good practice for when Hinata eventually dates a girl, because he's sure it will happen. He just has to find the right one. (Kageyama never once considers it practice for himself, because he doesn't even want to think about it when it leaves a hollow pit in his stomach.)

It's okay if things continue like this, he tells himself, Hinata's hand planted firmly in his pocket after complaining about it being cold.

Of course, things never really work out like that in Kageyama's favor, which he's reminded of the fifth time Hinata kisses him, pushes his back up against the wall of the empty club room. Kageyama has excused himself to get something he forgot, not expecting Hinata to follow him and pounce like he's been doing lately.

This time, though, it's different. This time, Kageyama pushes back, notices the way Hinata's mouth moves in surprise when Kageyama's the one who is slipping his tongue in, leaning over Hinata and grasping his face between his hands. Hinata makes a noise, one that goes straight to somewhere Kageyama would rather not think about, and leans into Kageyama's hands. His skin is soft, warm and a little sticky from practice, and Kageyama finds himself wondering what the rest of him feels like right now. They're alone, he could...he could slip his hands down there, just a little—and then there's the sound of a door opening and someone screaming.

Kageyama whirls, Hinata's face still clutched between his hands, to find himself staring straight at Tanaka.

“I knew it!” Tanaka's yelling as Kageyama quickly releases Hinata from his hands, face turning red. “I knew you were gonna snap and try to suck the life out of Hinata sooner or later!”

Hinata stares. “What? No! Kageyama wouldn't do that! He...couldn't do that, right?” He glances uncertainly at Kageyama, like he's actually entertaining the thought, and Kageyama is able to regain enough of his senses to snap that of course he can't, stupid, what do you think this is.

“But then the only explanation is that...you've finally hooked up?” Tanaka says the word finally, snaps his fingers. Kageyama feels like he wants to die, wants to explain that of course that's not what's happening, looks to Hinata for confirmation.

Hinata is staring at his feet, face flooded with color. He must be so shocked and horrified at someone thinking that they'd hooked up that he can't even speak, Kageyama thinks to himself, ignoring the way his stomach flips. It's his duty to make sure Tanaka sees it the right way.

“Of course not, Hinata was...he was choking.” Kageyama feels like he's choking himself. “Mouth-to-mouth.”

“Mouth-to-mouth,” Tanaka repeats, narrowing his eyes, and Kageyama feels like he's sweating more than he ever has on the court. And then he nods sagely, like he understands. “I get it, I get it. Sorry for accusing you of trying to kill him.”

When Tanaka leaves, telling them to hurry up, Kageyama looks back to Hinata, expecting him to look as relieved as Kageyama feels. What he sees, though, is baffling; Hinata looking up at him, surprised and uneasy, the way he looks when he's anxious about a game.

Kageyama hates when Hinata looks at him like that.

“You didn't want him to know?” he asks, suddenly, cheeks still pink.

Of course Kageyama didn't want him to know that they were kissing. Wouldn't Hinata want the same thing? It's not like they can easily explain it as something they just do, something that happens just because without things getting weird with their teammates. He doesn't know what to say, so he shrugs, glances at the door. “It...would be kind of weird to explain, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Hinata's tilting his head, biting at his lip. “So not in front of anyone?”

Kageyama feels like he's done something wrong, has a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Why would you even do that in front of anyone, stupid?” he grumbles, fixing the front of his shirt where Hinata has wrinkled it and then leaning in to fix Hinata's as well, wiping some spit from the corner of his mouth with the side of his hand. He watches as Hinata's cheeks darken. Kageyama's struck with the sudden urge to lean in again, to keep going where they'd been interrupted, but instead he straightens up.

“Let's go,” he says, grabbing Hinata by the arm and dragging him out of the club room.

The entire practice session, Kageyama stares at Tanaka, daring him to say anything to anyone else, but he doesn't seem to. It's business as usual, all over the place and causing Daichi to rub his temples in exasperation, and Kageyama eventually allows himself to relax. Does it really matter if someone found out? he finds himself wondering, trying to pay attention to the rest of the practice session. He doesn't want people to get the wrong idea. They aren't together, or anything.

Of course they aren't together. Hinata doesn't even hold his hand on the way home.

Chapter Text

Everything should be resolved, back to normal between him and Hinata. They're back to working well during practice, and Suga gives him a smile when they meet eyes, a little thumbs up that has Kageyama bowing his head and trying to hide the pink on his cheeks. Nothing's going on between them, he reminds himself. Things should be normal.

And they are, mostly. Hinata's chipper, energetic, overly-enthusiastic as always, ready to race at a moment's notice, and Kageyama wants to be relieved, he really does. And he would be, probably, if it weren't for the eyes he feels on him, focused intently, from time to time. It's mostly during practice, when he suddenly feels a prickle on his spine and turns to see Hinata staring at him, ball clutched absently between his hands.

It's not like it's unusual for Hinata to stare; he does it when he wants something, but this isn't his regular “toss to me” stare or his “share your food with me” stare. It's a stare that's blank, thoughtful, and one he breaks as soon as Kageyama catches him doing it. Because of it, Kageyama finds himself staring back, noticing things he hasn't bothered to focus on before, like the way the light shines on Hinata's hair, the way his eyes glint when he's focused on the ball, the movement of his muscles as he jumps.

They are things he can't stop thinking about, and Hinata doesn't make it any easier. If anything, he's been closer lately, sitting pressed up against Kageyama's side during lunch, leaning over him way too easily to grab things. He'll stick his hands right in Kageyama's pockets to get change for the vending machine, and Kageyama has to tell himself it doesn't matter, Hinata's absent-minded touching doesn't do anything to him. He can ignore it; maybe he's just being more sensitive than usual, because Hinata's always been rather touchy. He thought he'd gotten used to it, but maybe not.

Kageyama goes about his days like this, trying to ignore Hinata's pensive stares and the way he practically throws himself into Kageyama's arms (in front of everyone) when they make a perfect play. Kageyama has to stop himself from getting into it, lifting Hinata into the air like he's almost done three times now. He just gets caught up in Hinata's stupid idiot energy, he tells himself, before shoving him away and pointedly ignoring Hinata's hurt pout.

Other than that, though, things are normal. There is no awkward air between them, they're getting along fine, and Hinata even seems more cheerful than usual, if possible. He challenges Kageyama to a race every time they walk somewhere together, and while Kageyama protests, he ends up getting swept along. That's how they end up panting and bent over near the bike racks one day after after practice, Hinata's fumbling with the lock for his bike like he does every single day. Kageyama's getting impatient, figures he'll leave Hinata there to finish while he grabs something he'd forgotten from his locker.

He's leaning in, fishing out the papers he needs, when there's a noise from behind him. It's late, nobody should still be here, and he turns to see Hinata with his hands in his pockets.

“I got it unlocked,” he says, looking around like he's very interested in the lockers. “Are you done?”

Kageyama closes the locker and nods, straightening up and stuffing the papers into his bag. He's starting to say they should get going, that he'll buy meat buns for them on the way home since Hinata didn't fuck up during practice for once, when his back is suddenly up against the lockers and there are hands clutching tight at the fabric of his jacket.

It barely registers what's happening when there's the wet sound of Hinata's mouth opening against his, and Kageyama, startled and dazed, unthinkingly follows suit, moving his lips in a way he hadn't really known he's able to do. He feels his eyes sliding closed, Hinata warm against him, breathing together, when there's something warm and wet sliding along his bottom lip.

Hinata pulls back, suddenly, licking his lips with an unreadable expression on his face. He wipes at the corner of his mouth with his sleeve and then suddenly he's bouncing back, waving Kageyama after him and talking about how he's going to get the most expensive meat bun (“they're all the same price, dumbass”) while Kageyama follows behind him, cheeks warm and not really understanding what has just happened.

After that, it happens again, again, and again, Hinata's kisses getting longer every time before he pulls away smiling like he knows something that Kageyama's not in on, and more than once Kageyama almost yells, almost asks him what the hell is so great, but the tingling in his mouth and on his lips maybe answers it for him. It's not bad, he doesn't mind it (wants to continue, wants to pull Hinata closer and keep going) so he lets it slide. He figures if things go on like this, it's okay. It's not hurting anything, they're just testing things, it's good practice for when Hinata eventually dates a girl, because he's sure it will happen. He just has to find the right one. (Kageyama never once considers it practice for himself, because he doesn't even want to think about it when it leaves a hollow pit in his stomach.)

It's okay if things continue like this, he tells himself, Hinata's hand planted firmly in his pocket after complaining about it being cold.

Of course, things never really work out like that in Kageyama's favor, which he's reminded of the fifth time Hinata kisses him, pushes his back up against the wall of the empty club room. Kageyama has excused himself to get something he forgot, not expecting Hinata to follow him and pounce like he's been doing lately.

This time, though, it's different. This time, Kageyama pushes back, notices the way Hinata's mouth moves in surprise when Kageyama's the one who is slipping his tongue in, leaning over Hinata and grasping his face between his hands. Hinata makes a noise, one that goes straight to somewhere Kageyama would rather not think about, and leans into Kageyama's hands. His skin is soft, warm and a little sticky from practice, and Kageyama finds himself wondering what the rest of him feels like right now. They're alone, he could...he could slip his hands down there, just a little—and then there's the sound of a door opening and someone screaming.

Kageyama whirls, Hinata's face still clutched between his hands, to find himself staring straight at Tanaka.

“I knew it!” Tanaka's yelling as Kageyama quickly releases Hinata from his hands, face turning red. “I knew you were gonna snap and try to suck the life out of Hinata sooner or later!”

Hinata stares. “What? No! Kageyama wouldn't do that! He...couldn't do that, right?” He glances uncertainly at Kageyama, like he's actually entertaining the thought, and Kageyama is able to regain enough of his senses to snap that of course he can't, stupid, what do you think this is. Hinata's up in his face again, challenging him to prove it, and they're about to get into it when Tanaka's voice has them both suddenly remembering he's there.

“But then the only explanation is that...you've finally hooked up?” Tanaka says the word finally, snaps his fingers. Kageyama feels like he wants to die, wants to explain that of course that's not what's happening, looks to Hinata for confirmation.

Hinata is staring at his feet, face flooded with color. He must be so shocked and horrified at someone thinking that they'd hooked up that he can't even speak, Kageyama thinks to himself, ignoring the way his stomach flips. It's his duty to make sure Tanaka sees it the right way.

“Of course not, Hinata was...he was choking.” Kageyama feels like he's choking himself. “Mouth-to-mouth.”

“Mouth-to-mouth,” Tanaka repeats, narrowing his eyes, and Kageyama feels like he's sweating more than he ever has on the court. And then he nods sagely, like he understands. “I get it, I get it. Sorry for accusing you of trying to kill him. I can't believe I accused my innocent underclassman of something like that...”

When Tanaka leaves, shaking his head and telling them to hurry up, Kageyama looks back to Hinata, expecting him to look as relieved as Kageyama feels. What he sees, though, is baffling; Hinata looking up at him, surprised and uneasy, the way he looks when he's anxious about a game.

Kageyama hates when Hinata looks at him like that. He's supposed to be the one who reassures him when it happens, not the one to cause it.

“You didn't want him to know?” Hinata asks, suddenly, cheeks still pink.

Of course Kageyama didn't want him to know that they were kissing. Wouldn't Hinata want the same thing? It's not like they can easily explain it as something they just do, something that happens just because without things getting weird with their teammates. Daichi and Suga already have the wrong idea entirely, and this really wouldn't help things. He doesn't know what to say, so he shrugs, glances at the door. “It...would be kind of weird to explain, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Hinata's tilting his head, biting at his lip. “So not in front of anyone?”

Kageyama feels like he's done something wrong, has a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Why would you even do that in front of anyone, stupid?” he grumbles, fixing the front of his shirt where Hinata has wrinkled it and then leaning in to fix Hinata's as well, wiping some spit from the corner of his mouth with the side of his hand. He watches as Hinata's cheeks darken. Kageyama's struck with the sudden urge to lean in again, to keep going where they'd been interrupted, but instead he straightens up.

“Let's go,” he says, grabbing Hinata by the arm and dragging him out of the club room.

The entire practice session, Kageyama stares at Tanaka, daring him to say anything to anyone else, but he doesn't seem to. It's business as usual, all over the place and causing Daichi to rub his temples in exasperation, and Kageyama eventually allows himself to relax. Does it really matter if someone found out? he finds himself wondering, trying to pay attention to the rest of the practice session. He doesn't want people to get the wrong idea. They aren't together, or anything.

Of course they aren't together. Hinata doesn't even hold his hand on the way home. Hinata doesn't press their lips together before they part ways, either, instead waving like he always had before. It shouldn't bother Kageyama, really, because it's not like it means anything. It doesn't, he tells himself, that would be stupid. It would also be stupid to go home, lie on his back and think about the feeling of Hinata not even bothering to resist when Kageyama had pressed back against him—

Kageyama ends up having to take a cold shower, feels horrible and weird. He just wants to go to sleep when he hears his phone buzz from beside him.

It's a message from Hinata, asking if he wants to go out tomorrow. It's a Sunday, they're both free, and something in his chest tightens when he taps out “yes”, hits send, and crawls miserably under his covers.

Chapter Text

When Kageyama meets Hinata outside his house, he's expecting the tousled hair and the weirdly mismatched clothes Hinata wears outside of school. What he's not expecting is the pleasant flush on Hinata's cheeks as he grins, the way he latches onto Kageyama's hand as they set out for town. Kageyama wonders if it's just him, or if Hinata's hands are sweatier than normal. It's not like he minds, but Kageyama feels like something is different from when they usually go out (as friends).

Something about Hinata is different. He keeps glancing back while they walk, stumbling over rocks sometimes because he seems glued to Kageyama's hand, sliding their fingers together and not letting go. It makes Kageyama's palm and arm and head tingle, and he has trouble focusing on where he's walking.

Hinata also looks different; at least, Kageyama feels like he does. He thinks there's been more care put into Hinata's outfit, which usually consists of grass-stained jeans and whatever jumper or t-shirt isn't dirty at the time he's running out of the house last-minute. Today, Hinata's pants look freshly washed, and he's wearing a shirt that Kageyama doesn't think he's seen before.

“I wear this shirt all the time,” he says when Kageyama asks, but there's red dusting his cheeks and he has that narrow-eyed look he gets when he's fibbing. “Jeez, if you don't like it you can say so.”

“I like it fine,” Kageyama manages to cough out, because he does like it, it makes Hinata look slim and it's a good color for him, and why is he thinking about this sort of thing when they're just hanging out? Kageyama stops at a drinking fountain, gulps down water for two solid minutes until Hinata has to bodily drag him away.

Compared to the way Hinata looks, like he's just walked out of a magazine, Kageyama feels strangely under-dressed. He's wearing what he always wears when he goes out, but he feels like it's not enough; the old sweater he's wearing with one of his favorite sports teams on the front, shoved up unceremoniously to his elbows in the warm weather. There's a hole in the knee of his jeans that he's never really noticed before, but now it feels like all the cold air in the world is seeping through it and he should have worn different pants, he should have brushed his hair-

“Your hair looks fine?” Hinata's looking at him funny, and Kageyama snaps his mouth shut when he realizes he's been mumbling. “Do you even have to do anything to your hair?”

It's not something they have ever really discussed, so they do, Hinata scowling when Kageyama tells about his very minimal hair care routine of waking up in the morning, rolling out of bed, and showering. It's not something Kageyama thinks about often, but Hinata reaches an arm up behind his head, rubs his hair through his fingers, and Kageyama's fingers twitch to ruffle Hinata's unruly mess.

The entire time they wander around, Hinata does not let go of his hand. Kageyama almost forgets once or twice until there are glances shot their way, curious and sometimes disdainful, and Kageyama wants to grab them and yell at them that Hinata's not gay, they're not like that and to stop looking at Hinata like he's anything more than a stupid dumbass who wants to hold hands (Kageyama's hand) all the time. Kageyama doesn't know if Hinata doesn't notice or just doesn't care, but it bugs him that anyone would think anything less of Hinata when they don't even know him. Aside from that, though, it's nice; Hinata doesn't even ask to hop off to the park and practice, and although Kageyama honestly wouldn't mind doing so, that's also sort of strange.

Sitting outside of a food shop, sipping strawberry milkshakes, Kageyama thinks that if this were a date, he wouldn't mind it. He's never been too keen on things like Girls and Dating and anything that doesn't involve volleyball (and now, Hinata), but this is laid back, and he keeps finding himself catching the way the sun shines on Hinata's hair and his cheeks when he shoots a grin in Kageyama's direction. He ends up wondering if the milkshake tastes different on Hinata's lips than it does when he sucks it through the straw, has to bite down on the plastic in a grimace when Hinata tilts his head and looks at him funny. Not in public, he tells himself, later. If he remembers. (He hopes he forgets.)

Their knees bump together under the table; Kageyama nudges back, and soon enough they're attempting to kick each other out of the seats. Kageyama ends up on his ass on the concrete, but he finds himself grudgingly thinking it's sort of worth it to see the way Hinata's laugh bubbles up out of his mouth, the way he still snickers when he reaches down a warm hand to help Kageyama up. He even courteously pats Kageyama's ass free of dirt, (Kageyama's imagination supplies that Hinata's hand is lingering just a few seconds too long).

“I'm paying for everything today!” Hinata declares, noisy and enthusiastic and fierce, when Kageyama fishes in his pockets for money. It's at that point that Kageyama starts to feel sort of weird, like maybe there's something he's missing, because they usually always fight over who pays. Hinata outright offering has Kageyama's stomach twisting, the same feeling he gets in the morning before he remembers that he's forgotten to do his homework and he's completely screwed. Thank god this is just Hinata, they're just hanging out, nothing big is going on here.

That's what he tells himself as they go past shops, toss coins into a fountain (Hinata wishes for Kageyama's smile to be less terrifying, Kageyama almost dunks him into the dirty water), and he finally manages to forget the things that are nagging at him, like Hinata's furtive glances in his direction, the warm fingers twined with his, the way Hinata's face flushes every time he fishes his wallet out to pay for whatever snack he offers to get. Kageyama promises to pay next time, no buts, and when Hinata's face lights up, he thinks maybe they should do it like this more often.

It ends up being so nice and relaxing and honestly sort of enjoyable that something has to go wrong, Kageyama has to fuck something up. It's karma for all the years he's been a shitty teammate, he tells himself, as he stares at Hinata's wide-eyed look of disbelief outside of the door to Kageyama's house.

Hinata has insisted on walking him all the way home, even though they both have homework. It's still going fine, Hinata's hand is warm in his and the way he swings their arms between them makes Kageyama's stomach flutter pleasantly. It happens when they stop outside the door, and Hinata looks at him expectantly.

“What?” Kageyama asks, not because he's trying to be an ass (for once) but because he genuinely doesn't know what he's forgetting.

Hinata rolls his eyes and then he's tugging Kageyama down by the shoulders, stretching up and bending Kageyama's back to press their lips together. It's soft and simple and Kageyama remembers the stupid milkshake and wants to lick Hinata's lips, his mouth, his tongue to see if it's still there. Hinata pulls back, though, and his cheeks are pink the the sunset, sky the color of his hair.

“That's what you do after a date, right?” he says, finally, when Kageyama fails to say anything.

“A date?” Kageyama hates how it comes out as a croak, hates the way Hinata's smile changes just a little to a look of perplexed confusion.

“Yeah? I mean...we're dating, so.” Hinata rocks on his feet, sneakers leaving marks in the dirt.

Kageyama feels his stomach drop down to his shoes. How can they be dating when neither of them are gay? He wants to ask, wants to figure out what's going on, but his heart is suddenly pounding and his hands feel clammy and Hinata keeps looking at him and looking at him and he just blurts it out-

“When the hell did we start dating?”

His words are harsh, as always, but this time Hinata doesn't shrug it off. He looks stunned for a second.

“That's a joke, right? I...told you I like you, remember? And you said you like me too, and then I asked you out-” His voice is steady, but Kageyama sees the way he starts to pick at the hem of his shirt nervously.

That's it. That explains the nice clothes, the paying for everything, the hand-holding and the way Hinata kept looking at him like he wanted to remember something. The way Hinata laughed loud and easy like he was having the best day in the world. The looks people would shoot them that Kageyama kept grudgingly shaking off.

That was a date.

“I didn't know you meant it like that!” Kageyama blurts, heat rising to his face. “We're not...we're not gay, stupid, we can't be—we're not—I didn't mean-”

And that's when Hinata's face goes blank, except for the red heating up his face. It's the look he gets when he's about to puke all over someone's pants, and Kageyama unthinkingly takes a step back. “No, I didn't mean-”

“It's okay,” Hinata says, fingers gripping his shirt. “Just kidding. That was a joke.” His voice doesn't sound like he's kidding though, it sounds flat and a little shaky, and Kageyama wants to grip him by the shoulders and shake until he snaps out of it. There's a pit in his stomach that screams at him that he's done something wrong, really wrong, and he reaches out to maybe fix things, holding his hand out to Hinata because he doesn't know what else to do.

“I'll see you at practice tomorrow.” Hinata grins at him but it's lopsided and wrong and Kageyama hates it, but he can't make himself say anything or do anything as Hinata waves and then takes off back towards his house.

Kageyama stands there for ten more minutes, clenching and unclenching his fists as he tries to think of what had happened.

And then it dawns on him. Hinata likes him.

He ends up face-down in his pillow, hoping he smothers because that's the only way he'll be able to fix this, by dying and never, ever seeing Hinata again. His lips still remember what Hinata's feel like, and as hard as he tries to think happy, unrelated thoughts (volleyball, volleybally, volleyball), he keeps seeing the brief period where Hinata went from outrageously happy to blank-faced disappointment.

Kageyama is the absolute worst person in the world.

Chapter Text

At school, Kageyama's expecting things to be awkward between him and Hinata. He braces himself for Hinata to maybe be angry, or sulking, something that Kageyama can probably handle given enough time. What he's not prepared for, though, is the usual smile he gets in the morning, for Hinata acting normal throughout practice. He hits all the tosses he's sent, and Kageyama is starting to feel like maybe it really just was a dumb misunderstanding, and Hinata will forget all about it like he forgets about the other stupid whims he goes off on.

As the day goes on, though, Kageyama starts to realize that Hinata is not back to normal. At lunch, he ducks away, waving at Kageyama over his shoulder as he goes off to eat with other people, presumably from his class. Kageyama feels a pit in his stomach as he watches Hinata shoot that beaming smile at them, when they always eat lunch with each other. It's not like he hasn't been alone at lunch before, but now that he knows what it's like to have someone to sit next to, to argue with and to trade snacks with, it feels lonelier than usual. A few times he finds himself turning to tell Hinata something, only for him to be conspicuously absent. Kageyama ends up running laps around the school, frustrated and confused and upset with Hinata, the situation, but most of all with himself.

They don't walk home together, either. Hinata hurries out after practice, bowing and congratulating everyone on a good day, before he's sprinting out like he always does sans Kageyama. Even their teammates look after him strangely, then look to Kageyama like he's got the explanation. He does, but it's not exactly something he can really share. How is he supposed to tell them he's fucked up majorly and led Hinata to believe they're dating when he obviously doesn't feel the same way? Which is what's going on here, he tells himself. He can't date Hinata. They're not gay, and he's sure he has to like boys to want to date them.

Kageyama is ready to trudge home, feeling awkward and miserable, when there's a hand on his shoulder. He jumps, expecting it to be Hinata, and maybe this is it, maybe they'll make up and Hinata will laugh and admit he'd been hasty (again) and they can walk home together and maybe Kageyama will treat him to a snack. That's what he'll do, he tells himself. Hinata always forgives him after a snack.

He looks back to see Suga.

“Is everything alright between you and Hinata?” he asks, and Kageyama prepares to glare, to say of course they're alright, it's not like they haven't fought before, but something in his chest feels cold and hard and wrong and he hates it. He hates not walking home with Hinata, not being next to his warm, energetic body at lunch, not holding his hand when Hinata tries to get him to walk faster and Kageyama pretends he can't move. His mind wanders to the extremes: no more Sunday night study sessions, no more sleepovers, no more Hinata waking up in his bed, hair fluffed and messy, no more kisses—

“No,” he says, voice sullen, and even Suga looks surprised.

He ends up spilling everything over drinks at a convenience store, courtesy of Suga's pocket change. He's waved Daichi ahead of him, opting to walk home with Kageyama even though it's pretty fairly out of his way, as far as Kageyama knows. He tells about Hinata, the kisses, Hinata saying he likes him, ends with the supposed-date and how he has no idea what to do now that he's messed everything up.

“Did you reject him?” Suga asks, finally, when Kageyama falls silent and stares at the drink in his hands.

He shrugs, because he doesn't really know. He had told Hinata they weren't dating, but is that rejecting? He's rejected people before, sure, but none of them were people he cared about, or even remotely knew. None of them had been boys who held his hand and made him feel like he was part of something bigger than himself. None of them had had bright red hair and brighter eyes and an even brighter smile.

Hinata should have told him they were on a date, he thinks bitterly, even though he knows that's not the problem here. He would have done the same thing, panicked and confused. Hinata should have explained what he meant when he said he liked Kageyama, but then again that's also Kageyama's fault, because he thinks, through the hazy memory of that night, that he'd said he likes Hinata too.

“Kageyama?” Suga nudges his arm, and Kageyam's head snaps up, realizing he'd been spacing out. “Do you want to reject him?”

“I'm not gay,” Kageyama says, immediately, because he's not. He repeats it. “I'm not gay. I didn't even know Hinata was, he never...he never said anything, he's such a dumbass, I can't believe he'd just assume-”

“You know how Hinata is. I don't think he's ever dated anyone.” Suga smiles at him. “You two have a lot in common.” Kageyama bristles and he's about to argue, but Suga continues. “How was the date?”

“It was okay.” Kageyama doesn't know, really, because he's never had anything else to compare it to. He shrugs. “It was just like any other time we hang out, except he was...I don't know, happier?”

“So what's the difference?”

Kageyama has to stop and think. What is the difference? The difference is that Hinata's a boy, Kageyama's a boy, and...why is that such a big deal to him? Maybe because he doesn't like Hinata. He doesn't want to do romantic things with him, he doesn't know the first thing about being romantic. He's only ever held hands with Hinata, he's only ever kissed Hinata, he's only ever...wanted to do those things with Hinata. There's a cold feeling creeping into his stomach and he tries to ignore it, takes another sip of his drink.

“Have you ever liked anyone before?” Suga tries again, coming from another angle, and Kageyama pauses, shakes his head. He doesn't think so, although he wouldn't really know the first thing about liking someone. “So how do you know you don't like Hinata?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but he has to close it to think. Kageyama doesn't like Hinata because...well, because he's Hinata. Because they're rivals, maybe? He's not sure this even applies anymore, not when he's determined to bring Hinata to the top with him. He likes Hinata as a friend, he likes being beside him, he likes when their shoulders or their legs bump and he likes when Hinata crawls into bed with him, even though he's an asshole who steals blankets.

“You know, friends don't usually kiss.” The way Suga says it is careful, gentle even, but Kageyama's shoulders jump up to his ears. Deep down he knows this, but he doesn't want to stop. Kissing Hinata feels good and right and he wants to do it, and even if friends don't usually kiss, they have never been conventional friends. That's his excuse, it's what he tells Suga while the older boy looks at him skeptically.

“I thought it was just a thing he does,” Kageyama says, desperate, after a long silence. “You know, like when he sings about peeing.”

Suga sighs and leans back on his hands. “I can see why he's getting mixed signals from you. Hinata sings about peeing all the time, but he's only ever kissed you. Why don't you just try giving him a chance? What's the worst that could happen? You kiss? You already did that. Hinata really likes you, you know? He's not going to be mad if you try it out and decide that you don't like it.”

“I know,” Kageyama says, miserably. He keeps seeing the way Hinata's face fell, the way he'd avoided him all day outside of practice. “I don't want to screw up.”

“You kind of already did.” Suga's smile is unwavering, and Kageyama flinches. It's true. “I'm not saying that you can't fix it, but you do need to talk to him. He's pretty forgiving, I don't think he'd be mad at you for longer than...oh, a day. You know, the usual.”

He knows that, too, but he's scared. He doesn't even want to admit it to himself, that it's what the cold feeling in his chest is, but Kageyama is scared Hinata will hate him, or that things will be awkward between them forever when Hinata's really the only person he's been this close to. He doesn't want to give it a try to find out that he really doesn't like boys. He's never really thought about boys in his life, so he can't be gay, or he'd know it by now, right? Right, he tells himself, chewing at the inside of his cheek.

“You know, Daichi didn't think he was gay either,” Suga offers cryptically, and Kageyama glances at him to see that same unwavering smile on his face. “But he gave it a shot and sometimes you just don't know until you try, right? It's not like you have to have sex, or anything. I'm sure Hinata wouldn't pressure you into doing that.”

Kageyama knows his face is heating up before he can stop himself or try to divert his thoughts from Hinata, red-faced and needy. It's something he's been trying his best to avoid thinking about for so, so long, every day, all the situations he's considered since seeing Hinata like that. That is definitely something friends don't do, and he knows it. He knows it, but he doesn't want to admit it. Kageyama grips his drink tightly in his hands and prays that Suga won't notice, won't ask-

And then he's laughing, leaning forward with his hands on his knees and Kageyama could honestly kill him if it was anyone other than Suga. “It wasn't sex!” he snaps, because it wasn't, not in the way he's been taught. And it's then that he realizes he's not ashamed of having done things with Hinata, just utterly and thoroughly embarrassed at anyone knowing he does things like that, or had done things like that, once, just once, or that he'd want to do it again. (And he does, kind of.)

“How do you feel about Hinata?” Suga asks, when he catches his breath.

Kageyama really, really doesn't want to answer that. Not because he can't, but because...it's probably the most embarrassing thing he'd ever say in his life, and even Suga of all people can't see him like that. Even Hinata hasn't seen him like that. He doesn't want to say that Hinata's his best friend, that he makes him feel like he can do anything, that even though he claims to support Hinata, Hinata's often the one supporting him. He doesn't want to say that he thinks about Hinata all the time, that he's happiest when they're together, and he always feels like he can be himself even with his shitty personality because no matter how many times they fight, Hinata always comes back with a bounce and a smile and Kageyama will always, always forgive him.

On the way home, when Suga sends him off with a wave and a weird smile, Kageyama has a lot of thinking to do. “Just talk to him,” Suga says, when they part, and Kageyama knows he has to, really, but that doesn't mean it's going to be easy. He doesn't know what to say to reject someone he actually cares about.

There's a small voice in his head, one that sounds suspiciously like Suga, asking why he even has to reject him if he doesn't really want to. Maybe it's because he doesn't want to hurt Hinata any more than he already has, but maybe...it's because he wouldn't mind testing it out. He's been telling himself he and Hinata aren't gay, but clearly Hinata's okay with boys (with Kageyama) and, well, Kageyama's never really been one to care about what other people think. He's never liked a girl, although he's never liked a guy either, and he thinks Hinata's maybe the closest he's ever been to having someone he wants to kiss and hold hands with and hell, he's already done those two things.

In the end, it comes down to whether he should hurt Hinata now, or later. (What if it works out? A question he doesn't want to answer.) He sighs and buries his face in his pillow, hoping maybe he suffocates before anything has to happen. He lets his mind wander to Hinata again. His chest feels tight and he ends up wanting to punch someone because this is just impossible.

He really, really has to talk to him. Kageyama's terrible at talking, he always has been, but he has to try because...it's Hinata, and this whole mess is his fault. He's going to corner him tomorrow, he's going to tell him something. Hinata's always been better at talking, so maybe it'll work out.

Kageyama really hopes so, because he falls asleep thinking about Hinata's sleeping face, hand curled by his face and the way his hair looks against the pillow.

Chapter Text

It takes three days for Kageyama to finally corner Hinata. Three days of gritting his teeth while Hinata slips through classrooms to avoid him. Three days of finally flat-out chasing him in the hallways. Three days of agonizing over exactly what he's going to say. And the thing is, Kageyama still doesn't really know. He's never been very good at communicating, and even with Hinata, who is so good at reading him, he has no idea what to do in this situation. Suga's words echo in his head, to give Hinata a chance, but every time he considers it his heart thuds and his hands get clammy and he hates it.

Kageyama finally snags him when Hinata's trying to zoom through the door after practice. He's not even trying to give Kageyama smiles anymore because when their eyes meet, he flushes and runs, which is what he's about to do when Kageyama finally, finally catches him by the collar and yanks him back. Hinata stares up at him, terrified, squirms and tries to break free, but Kageyama is having none of it.

“We need to talk,” he says, and that's when Hinata finally gives up and stops struggling, slumps his shoulders and nods his head and says “okay” and Kageyama just wants him to sound excited again, or something.

When Kageyama finally releases Hinata against his better judgement, he doesn't try to run. He squares his shoulders and marches next to Kageyama, stopping to get his bike until his arm is tugged and Kageyama's cocking his head to the gate.

“I'll walk you home, or something,” he says, ignoring the way Hinata's cheeks turn pink and tightening his grip. “Just walk with me.”

This is as far as Kageyama's plan has gotten, honestly, and it's evident from the heavy silence hanging over them as they walk. Hinata's normally running his mouth a mile a minute at this point, chirping about this and that and more, but he's quiet, hands in his pockets and looking like he wants to say something, chewing on his lip. Kageyama doesn't want to be the first to talk, either, because he still, still doesn't know what to say. He watches Hinata out of the corner of his eye, the way the breeze ruffles his soft hair and his eyes focus on anything but Kageyama.

Honestly, he'd rather do anything but talk about this. This isn't at all like any other time he's been confessed to, because he's actually having trouble figuring out what he wants to do. He's not gay, but it's Hinata, sunshine-smile Hinata, and Kageyama's never had romantic feelings for anyone and doesn't know how to tell if he could, maybe, feel like that towards another boy, of all people.

He's never pictured himself with a boy, but he's never pictured himself with a girl, either. Kageyama doesn't have time for dumb things like dating, not when he's got volleyball and trying to keep up his grades enough to keep playing. He's been wholly focused on improving, on getting better so he's never benched again, and then after joining Karasuno, he's been focused on getting better with his team. He knows, vaguely, that people think he's good-looking, in the same way he knows that people think he's an ass. Classmates have asked why he's always rejecting confessions, and he's never really had an answer besides “volleyball”.

Somewhere down the line, though, Hinata had started to factor in, and he knows it. He never feels like spending time with girls when he has Hinata to deal with, late-night phonecalls when Hinata can't sleep because he's stayed up too late playing a video game or when he needs help with the homework Kageyama doesn't have the answers to, either.

Kageyama hates Hinata for messing him up.

(He doesn't.)

When they finally sit down on a bench, halfway between their homes, Hinata staring at his shoes and picking at the seam of his shorts, Kageyama knows he has to say something. He has to say something, really, anything, because this silence is the worst, he hates it, he hates Hinata being quiet.

“So, uh...you've been avoiding me.” He starts with stating the obvious, because he doesn't know what else to say. “Stop it.”

Hinata glances at him and frowns. “Yeah, because I didn't want things to be weird!”

He's the one making it weird, and when Kageyama points it out, glare plastered on his face, Hinata huffs and then looks dejected, which isn't what Kageyama had been wanting at all.

“Sorry,” Hinata says, with a deep breath puffing his hair over his forehead. “I guess I kind of messed up.”

No, Kageyama thinks, because it's him who messed up, not Hinata who is sitting too far away, who isn't touching their legs together like he usually does and isn't trying to worm his way into Kageyama's lap to steal his snacks.

“No!” It comes out in a shout and Hinata's head snaps up and he looks startled, and Kageyama clears his throat. “No. Uh, it was my fault.” It's hard to say it, because Kageyama hates admitting he's wrong, but Hinata is worth it. At least, he is right now. If this were about something like who ate the last cookie, he'd be on his own. “I didn't know you meant it...like that.”

Hinata's still fidgeting, but he's still chewing at his lip, brows furrowing. “Yeah, I guess it is your fault,” he says, finally, and when his face cracks into a grin that Kageyama feels like he hasn't seen in years, the air is suddenly a little warmer. “I mean, I did tell you, and I've been kissing you, Kageyama, and-”

“People kiss each other all the time,” Kageyama sputters, trying to defend something he really, deep down, knows isn't exactly true. He knows people don't pull their friends into their laps, kiss them on the mouth and then think about how soft their lips are. He knows nobody else on their team kisses each other after a nice toss. And, also deep down, he knows Hinata knows this, too, has probably known for a while by the way his cheeks flush and he looks slightly guilty.

“Is that why you kissed me?” Hinata is frowning again, and Kageyama wonders where the smile he'd been so glad to see went. He really is not doing so well at this, and rakes a hand through his hair in frustration.

“I kissed you because I like it,” he says, letting it bubble out of his mouth and it's true, he knows it's true, he likes kissing Hinata. He doesn't want to kiss anyone else, he's never even thought about kissing anyone else. He's never cared about kissing, period, before Hinata. “And you did it first.”

“I like it, too. And you kissed back, asshole. But I don't want to keep doing it if it's not the same for you.” Hinata stretches his legs out in front of them and Kageyama glances down, following the line of smooth skin down to the socks rolled at his ankles. Hinata makes a frustrated noise in his throat and Kageyama looks up again. “I don't...just want to kiss you, I guess? I really, really like you, Kageyama. I like you in the way that I want to kiss you and...other things.”

The way he says it, locks eyes with Kageyama when he does even as his cheeks get redder, makes the taller boy's heart speed up and stutter in a way he wishes it wouldn't. This is it, he guesses. He can't pretend Hinata had meant anything else when he blurted that out on his bed, skin flushed and eyes hazy.

“I know you probably think I'm really gross, but I don't want you to. Even if you don't like me back you're...my best friend, I guess? Even though you're annoying and lame and a jerk. I don't want to stop playing volleyball with you and I don't want you to not like me anymore.”

Kageyama could never, ever not like Hinata anymore, at this point. He's in way too deep to back out, thinking about Hinata's smile and his stupid orange mess of hair even when he's supposed to be paying attention in English. In the morning, he thinks about Hinata while he's brushing his teeth, thinks about Hinata while he's walking to school and thinks about him while they race to the gym, thinks about Hinata's short-but-strong legs and the way he looks when he thinks nobody is watching him.

Hinata keeps talking, words spilling out of his mouth now that he's said it. “I like you so much, but it's okay if you don't like me back. I know it's kind of weird and I guess I didn't do a good job at telling you the first time, because you're so dumb,” Kageyama bristles but Hinata continues, “And I think about you all the time, even when it's not about volleyball, and I know you're a boy and I'm a boy and it's weird and I know it, but I like you anyway, even if you're mean and stupid and stubborn and you sometimes snore in your sleep because you always toss to me and you have nice hair and nice hands and you let me sleep in your bed-”

Kageyama can't take it. He can't stand hearing Hinata spill his guts like that; it's always been awkward for him to listen to Real, Genuine feelings. He'd much rather deal with things on the court than on a bench in the middle of town as Hinata leans close and his voice raises with emotion, like it does when he's excited about something. Kageyama hates the way Hinata's eyes look glassy like he might cry, hates the way he's fisting his hands in the fabric of his shorts and pressing his knees together nervously and the way his mouth keeps moving even though there's a ringing in Kageyama's ears that drowns it out.

He's terrible with words and with feelings and with anything that isn't volleyball, honestly, so Kageyama does the first thing he can think of. He grabs Hinata's face between his hands, cheeks warm and pink-tinged, and presses their lips together.

This is the first time they've kissed since that awful night Kageyama still doesn't want to think about, and it fills his entire chest with a warm, sticky feeling. Hinata's still against him before he leans into it, and Kageyama feels lashes flutter close to his cheeks and Hinata's pressing closer-

Suddenly, Kageyama's being shoved away, rough and startling. Hinata looks at him with knitted brows. The sticky feeling freezes over and Kageyama feels sick, because this is the first time Hinata's denied a kiss, the first time he hasn't wanted to kiss Kageyama and Kageyama really, really wants to kiss him, and he remembers the time in middle school when he'd fucked up, when his entire team turned and he's doing it again, isn't he, he's messing up and Hinata hates him.

“Kageyama?”

He's expecting Hinata to sound angry, but the tone of worry in his voice is almost as unexpected as the shove had been.

“I'm sorry, jeez, you look...don't look like that, Kageyama.” Hinata groans, hangs his head and bumps his knee to Kageyama's in an expression of comfort and closeness they've developed over time. “I didn't mean it like I don't want to kiss you. I'm not going anywhere.”

Kageyama hates how easily Hinata reads him, but he takes a breath and nods, and Hinata gives him a small smile.

“It's not like I don't want to kiss you, because I keep thinking about it, and I want to, but if you don't like me then I don't think we should anymore.” He sounds uncertain, subconsciously licks his lips and Kageyama watches, feeling torn. He knows Hinata is right, but he feels like yelling, like throwing something on the ground and saying no, that's not what I want. Because it's not, not at all.

“Let's try it.”

For a second, Kageyama wonders who is talking. Who is running their big fat mouth while he's trying to fix this, to think about what the hell he should do. He only realizes it's him when Hinata stares at him, confused and surprised and maybe a tiny bit hopeful before he shakes his head.

“No, stupid, I know you don't-”

“Shut up, dumbass! I'm saying let's try it!” Kageyama lurches forward, staring hard. “You said you like me, so why the hell wouldn't you want to try it? Are you scared? Are you backing out?”

“I do want to try it! That's why I asked you on a date a few days ago!” Hinata snaps back, leaning closer and Kageyama leans closer and glowers and then their foreheads are pressing together and they stop, startled by the contact.

Kageyama thinks Hinata is going to say no. The silence stretches out between them and he licks his lips again, something Kageyama forces himself to ignore. He's about to move back, to stand up and say forget it and go home, when Hinata breathes out soft against Kageyama's cheeks.

“Okay,” he says, and Kageyama's chest feels tight, really tight, but not in a bad way. “One week. And if you don't like it, don't keep doing it because you don't want me to avoid you again.”

“When have I ever done anything nice to you when I didn't want to?” Kageyama replies, and it's true, and Hinata laughs for the first time in days, and Kageyama wants to hear it again.

One week, Kageyama tells himself as Hinata stands up and waves, turns the opposite way to go to his house. One week to decide if this is what he wants, to decide if everything he thinks he knows about himself is wrong and if he really likes boys (a boy, just one) after all, if he wants to give up kissing Hinata and pressing close to him when they share a bed and holding his hand sometimes.

Kageyama is no good at people or feelings, but he's willing to try if Hinata will stop avoiding him, if he'll keep grinning that dumb grin of his and stealing sips of Kageyama's milk. He can't stop thinking about it on the way home, and he doesn't know if the fluttering in his chest is a good thing or a bad thing. He wonders if this is the way Hinata feels before a big game; if it is, maybe he'll start being nicer to him. Maybe. Probably not.

It's only when he's in bed that night, hair damp and staring at the ceiling, does he remember he'd promised to walk Hinata home. Strike one, he thinks to himself. Tomorrow. He will definitely start not fucking up tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Dating Hinata, or “dating” Hinata, is a little different than what they usually do. Kageyama's prepared for the physical affection they usually exchange, for kissing and Hinata's body touching his at various points when they sit together. What he's not prepared for is Hinata to hold back on the touching almost awkwardly, fluttering his hand away when he accidentally grabs for Kageyama's without thinking, or sitting up with a startled jerk when he nods off against Kageyama's shoulder.

It's kind of unsettling. Scratch that, it's absolutely infuriating. Kageyama had agreed to this because he didn't want to lose the relationship they had, the one Hinata carried on before and after he thought they were dating. The flush on Hinata's cheeks when they bump together is kind of cute, but it's not what Kageyama wants at all. He wants Hinata's hand in his, head on his shoulder, knees pressed together when they share a bench. Hinata hasn't even kissed him, and while Kageyama's never been in a relationship before, he's pretty sure kissing is part of what most people do.

On the third day, Kageyama gets fed up with the dancing around, with Hinata coughing and sitting upright when he laughs too hard at something Kageyama says. It's when Hinata's hand falls on his leg during a practice break, when he leans forward with his eyes bright to say something and then realizes his fingers are touching Kageyama's skin beneath his shorts, when he yanks his hand back with a stammered apology; that's when Kageyama loses it.

He doesn't even know what he's doing when he realizes Hinata's hand is clutched in his, and they're staring at each other. Kageyama feels a flush blooming across his cheeks and scowls, directing his irration outward like he usually does.

“What?” he snaps, when Hinata blinks at him. “I wanted to hold your hand, dumbass. That's okay, right?”

Hinata wiggles his fingers while a grin spreads across his face, and Kageyama doesn't think his cheeks are going to stop being bright red anytime soon. He relaxes his grip a little, because Hinata's fingers are turning white and it's probably not comfortable, and to his immense relief, Hinata doens't pull back.

It's not like they haven't held hands dozens of times before, but this time it's different. This time, Kageyama knows Hinata's doing it because he...well, he Likes him. And Kageyama doesn't know if he likes him back yet, but he knows that Hinata's hand feels good in his, especially when Hinata fits their fingers together and the points where their palms connect is warm and soft and leaves Kageyama's entire arm feeling tingly. It's even nicer than usual, if he's honest.

Kageyama looks to see if anyone's noticed, if anyone is going to comment on their hand-holding, but nobody does. He tightens his fingers a little, feeling more confident about this whole dating-hand-holding thing, and when he looks at Hinata, he's still smiling.

“You look like a dope,” Kageyama says, but his own voice sounds warm to his ears, and Hinata just grins a smile that reaches to his eyes and sticks his tongue out when he says no, you look like a dope, and this is what Kageyama's there for.

This is dating, apparently.

They walk home together, like usual, and Hinata's shoulders look more relaxed than they have all week, he laughs more easily and smiles more easily and Kageyama's stomach twitches and turns and he wants to touch Hinata's fluffy hair, his pink cheeks, the lips that part when he laughs. He ends up stuffing his hands in his pockets to pretend he has something to do with them, trying to pretend he isn't hyper-focused on the way Hinata moves and bounces when he talks now that he's finally starting to relax.

It's going well, he thinks, feeling a little satisfied with himself. Dating isn't so hard. If he had to, he could date Hinata, probably.

And then Hinata invites him over.

It isn't the fact that he's inviting Kageyama over to his house, because Kageyama goes over all the time. It's the fact that his cheeks flush red when he asks, that he's playing with the strap of his bag with his free hand, that he looks like this is the first time he's inviting someone he's dating over to his house. And, suddenly, Kageyama realizes it is. Hinata's never dated anyone before. Kageyama is his absolute first.

For some reason, it sends Kageyama's heart thumping in his chest.

He could say no. He could make an excuse that he has to go home, that his mom wants him to help with dinner or something, that he has a lot of homework. The homework part is true, at least, but he's never cared about it and he doesn't feel like he's about to start.

The thought of being alone with Hinata in his room is sending Kageyama's stomach rolling in a way he rarely experiences, even though they've been alone plenty of times and even though they've already messed around together once. It's something Kageyama tries not to think about, because it makes his stomach feel tight and his breath come a little faster, and he doesn't want to remember the way Hinata had looked under him, but there he is staring expectantly like someone's girlfriend (boyfriend, Kageyama's maybe boyfriend, god) and Kageyama just can't say no.

“Yeah,” he says, and the way Hinata lights up is worth every weird feeling in his chest and stomach.

Hinata offers to let Kageyama ride on the back of his bike, saying they'll get home faster that way. They've tried it once before, ended up tumbling down a hill all over each other and while Hinata laughed, Kageyama isn't exactly keen to try it again.

“Baby,” Hinata tells him, nudging him with his shoulder, but Kageyama steadfastly refuses, reminding Hinata about grass stains and bruises and skinned elbows. Hinata shrugs, still smiling, and Kageyama's glad he said no because sitting behind Hinata, he'd be unable to focus on the way his face looks when he smiles.

Hinata's house is warm and welcoming as always, Natsu immediately linking her arms around his shins and yelling about Kageyama, Kageyama, Kageyama visiting in that same sing-song voice Hinata uses when he's singing about eating or peeing or basically anything mundane. His mouth twitches up in what might be a smile (if Kageyama smiled) when Hinata tugs at his arm defensively, telling Natsu Kageyama's there to hang out with him, not HER, and then they're slipping their shoes off and Hinata's dragging him to his room and they are suddenly, suddenly alone.

It's weird how many old things suddenly feel new and make Kageyama feel buzzed with nervousness. He doesn't know the first thing about what to do when you're in a room alone with the person you're dating, other than what he's heard boys in his class talk about. Hinata's looking at him funny already, head tilted and what if he's expecting-

“Kageyama? Are you just going to stand there? I mean, you can sit down.” Hinata flops back on his bed, still watching Kageyama, who is trying his hardest not to look where Hinata's shirt rides up on his stomach. He sits up, then, covering the sliver of skin with cotton, and extends his hand out to Kageyama.

He doesn't know what else to do, so he takes it, wraps his finger around Hinata's hand and suddenly he's being tugged back onto the bed. Kageyama tries to roll to the side but he ends up squarely on top of Hinata, the shorter boy's breath escaping with a huffed “oof”. He hadn't meant to, Kageyama wants to yell, he didn't want to be on top of Hinata like this, looking down at his flushed cheeks and the hair fringed around his forehead, ruffled and sticking up at odd places.

Kageyama scrambles to right himself, rolls off of Hinata and next to him on the bed. He tries to ignore the blood in his cheeks, thinking about anything distracting (volleyball) until his heart stops pounding in his chest.

“We don't have to do this if you don't want to.” Hinata's voice next to him is soft and sudden, and Kageyama's turning his head, blue eyes meeting Hinata's warm, wide brown ones. He gives a half-smile, and Kageyama hates the way it makes his chest ache, makes him feel like he's messing up again, because it looks resigned and wistful and kind of guilty. Kageyama hates seeing Hinata like that when it's his fault.

He wants to say something like “I want to”, but he's never been good with words. He breathes out, soft, watching the way it ruffles the hair against Hinata's forehead, watching his lashes flutter when he blinks. Kageyama's good at reacting, and that's what he does.

Hinata's lips are warm against his, and Kageyama can only think that he's missed this. He's missed the way Hinata melts against him, breath puffing out of his nose when their lips slide together, and when they pull back, he feels like it's not enough. Hinata's cheeks are tinged pink again and he looks more bashful than he had the first time they'd kissed, definitely, and the skip of Kageyama's heart makes him think he probably does, too.

“Boyfriends,” he says, testing the word on his tongue, pleased with the way it makes his skin tingle. Hinata glances away for a split second before meeting his eyes again.

“I guess so.” His voice sounds uncertain, though, and Kageyama's heart does a dip. “I mean, for the week. Until you decide you don't-”

“Shut up, dumbass,” Kageyama snaps, and his hand has found its way into Hinata's hair, tugging in the way that makes Hinata's face scrunch up (cute). “Stop saying that like it's definite I won't want to. The whole reason I'm doing this is because...because...” Because I don't want to lose you, but that's not it. Because I don't want to stop kissing you, and that's part of it, but not the entirety.

Hinata's watching him, face slack and expectant, and Kageyama doesn't know what to say to express the way his chest tightens when he thinks about Hinata, when he thinks about the word “boyfriend” and the way it might sound on Hinata's lips when he says “Kageyama's my boyfriend” or “I'm Kageyama's boyfriend”. Instead, Kageyama presses their mouths together again, soft, loosens his hand in Hinata's hair to comb through it, enjoying the way Hinata's head tilts into his palm.

They end up lying on Hinata's bed, Hinata's face pressed against Kageyama's chest, his knees poking Kageyama's legs. He's warm, like always, and Kageyama honestly can't remember what it felt like to not have someone like this, someone he could hold in his arms and who would wrap arms around him in turn. He doesn't think he's ever even considered this as something he wanted, because before Hinata, all he had really thought about was volleyball.

But now, volleyball is Hinata. There's no having one without the other, because Kageyama can no longer imagine a court where he isn't playing with Hinata. He threads his fingers through Hinata's hair.

“We could still do this even if you didn't want to date,” Hinata says, muffled against Kageyama's shirt. “Even if you don't like me.” His voice sounds hopeful, but Kageyama hates it because it makes him feel weird, upset and uneasy. This is the kind of thing Hinata would probably do with his boyfriend, or whatever, and the thought of someone other than Kageyama doing this with Hinata is something he doesn't ever, ever want to consider.

“I said to shut up.” Kageyama gives a tug at his hair, just this side of rough, and Hinata nuzzles against his chest that's suddenly full-up with some kind of warm, fuzzy feeling.

They end up falling asleep like that, and when he wakes up the clock says 11 and Hinata's halfway on his chest, leg slid between his knees. Kageyama shuffles to pull the blanket over them, noting the way it smells like Hinata, and wonders when that's become one of his favorite scents. “Are you awake?”

Hinata huffs and mumbles against him, shifting in his arms, and Kageyama doesn't want to let go to tug the blanket out from under them, but he's getting cold where his body isn't in contact with Hinata's. He untangles himself, watches Hinata's mouth turn down and him blink his eyes open, sleepy and disgruntled. “You leaving?” he says, voice soft with sleep, and Kageyama thinks about saying yes, he's gotta get home, his mother will worry. He thinks about it, but the sight of Hinata, hair sticking up and skin pink and warm, shirt rucked up around his stomach, and he can't.

“Nah, I'm just getting the blanket,” he says instead, brushing his hand over Hinata's cheek, watching as Hinata leans into it and slides his eyes closed. He wrestles the blanket from under them, tugs it up around both their shoulders and flops back to the mattress. Immediately, Hinata's arms slide around him, pulling him close. Everything smells like Hinata, soft and warm and nice and familiar, and Kageyama can't help but brush their lips together one more time, watch as Hinata smiles sleepy at him.

“I like you so much,” he mumbles, yawning, and he probably thinks he's still dreaming, or something. Hinata has been known to do that, wake up and be unable to distinguish dream and reality before falling back asleep like he is now.

'Me too,' Kageyama suddenly considers saying, but catches himself at the last minute. Hinata might be sleep-hazy, but he's still self-aware enough not to say things he doesn't mean, probably doesn't mean, might not mean.

But with Hinata warm in his arms and skin soft against Kageyama's legs, he's starting to think he might just mean it.

Chapter Text

It's Saturday morning when Kageyama wakes up and goes through his routine like usual. Saturday morning, which normally just means tomorrow is Sunday, tomorrow he can do what he wants, and he's thinking about going to the park to practice, staring at his sleep-hazy eyes in the mirror, when he freezes. It would be comical, maybe, his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, foam at the corner of his lips, hair sticking up every which-way (still nothing like Hinata's), but it's not. Today is Saturday, the end of the week, and that means his time with Hinata is almost up.

No, like that, it sounds so final. It's not his time with Hinata, Kageyama reminds himself, fidgeting with his toothbrush, it's just his time as Hinata's...boyfriend. A word he still hasn't really gotten used to in regards to himself. He's let the entire week go by and he still has no idea what he's going to do.

Call it off with Hinata, he thinks to himself, distractedly tying his shoes for the third time because they keep tangling on his fingers. Kageyama's not boyfriend material, he tells himself, right before tripping on a pothole on the way to school. It would be a disaster, they'd get messed up on court, Hinata would get tired of him, they're both boys, he's not gay.

He meets Hinata at the gate, as usual, is greeted with a sunshine grin, as usual, but there's also something hard and awkward in the air between them, in the way Hinata's hand falls limp by his side instead of reaching for Kageyama's, in the way he's not as loud as he usually is. He says one thing about spilling cereal on himself, and that's it. Not nearly enough to dispel the growing pit in Kageyama's stomach.

The pit stays there throughout the day, deep and dark and churning. He's called on three times, hears none of them, is scolded by the teacher before he leaves for lunch. He's running late to their usual spot, but it's no big deal; he's been late before.

He doesn't know why he's half-expecting Hinata to not be there, but he is, hunched over whatever he's eating and looking smaller than usual. Kageyama hesitates before calling out to him, waving his hand, and when Hinata's head shoots up and a smile flickers across his face, the pit in Kageyama's stomach gets worse. Don't look so happy, he wants to say, I'm going to mess this up, but he doesn't, just sits down next to Hinata.

“I thought you weren't gonna show.” Hinata's voice is casual but laced with something that Kageyama's heard before a big game. He doesn't like it, so he reaches over and ruffles Hinata's hair, rough, until he's laughing and shoving his arm away and threatening to spill juice all over Kageyama's lap. Their shoulders bump when Kageyama relents, and he's almost forgotten about the pit in his stomach until they part for class, Hinata grabbing his hand like an afterthought and looking down at their twined fingers before pulling away and running off.

Kageyama's apparently not the only one feeling off.

Practice is usually Kageyama's reprieve, but it's also where Hinata's presence is strongest. It's where he gets distracted watching the way he talks to their teammates, the slope of his shoulders, his fingers on the ball. It's where he sees Hinata jump impossibly high, where they work as a team and Kageyama feels exhilarated just being next to him. It's where he gets hit in the side of the face with a volleyball and is scolded by Daichi for not paying attention.

Daichi is a third year, Kageyama reminds himself, tuning him out in favor of worrying over this thing with Hinata. Daichi is probably worldly wise. Suga had given him advice before, so maybe-

Maybe this is the divine intervention he's been praying for. “Am I gay?” he asks, letting it spill out of his mouth, pushed up out of the pit in his stomach.

Daichi stops mid-sentence, something about how if Kageyama's having any problems he can talk to them. His mouth hangs open for a good ten seconds before he closes it, opens it again, and then says, “What?”

“Am I gay?” Kageyama is aware that his cheeks are flushing. “Do you think I'm gay?” He doesn't know why he's asking, really. Confirmation, maybe, a go-ahead to keep doing what he's doing with Hinata, or maybe a sign that he should stop.

“I—uh.” Daichi's looking around for help, desperate and like he doesn't know what to do in this situation, which he probably doesn't. Kageyama's feeling panic well up in his chest because he's not answering. “I don't know? Are you?”

Kageyama's face must look just about as pained as he feels, because Daichi's biting his lip and hesitantly extending a hand to his shoulder. “Are you in trouble, Kageyama?” he asks, genuine concern, and yes, Kageyama is in trouble. He's in deep, deep trouble. He scowls at a spot on Daichi's shirt like it has the answers.

And then there's Hinata's voice ringing across the gym, calling to Kageyama about getting in trouble with the captain, and it's when Kageyama visibly stiffens that Daichi's face goes from worried to knowing. Kageyama hates it, but this is also his only hope. It's better than explaining, anyway, better than admitting they've been kissing for months, holding hands for longer, and that he doesn't know what it means.

“I don't think it's a matter of being gay or not being gay,” Daichi says finally, hand still on Kageyama's shoulder. “And, uh, I'm pretty sure you'd know better than I would, so there's that. You guys get along well, you know?” And Kageyama doesn't even resist, say that he doesn't know what Daichi's talking about. He just ducks his head because he knows they do, and that's the problem.

“He said he likes me,” and this is the first time he's admitted it out loud, and it sounds lost just like he feels. It's almost like saying it finally makes it real, finally forces him to admit the mess he's in.

“You've always known that, though.” Daichi's hand slides from Kageyama's shoulder and he shrugs. “Maybe not in the same way, but he's always liked you. Well, you know. After that first week.”

Kageyama's chest thumps because he knows it's true, remembers the way Hinata had looked when he'd hit Kageyama's toss, the way they'd quickly fallen from enemies to rivals to partners to whatever they are now.

Suga's calling them from across the gym, saying it's almost time to clean up, and Daichi's turning to leave when he offers one more bit of advice, tossed over his shoulder.

“Just do what makes you feel right,” he says, giving Kageyama a smile. “And seriously, keep it off the court.”

But the problem is, Kageyama doesn't know what makes him feel right. No, that's wrong; being with Hinata makes him feel right. Tossing to Hinata makes him feel right. Hinata pressed up against him, sharing his meat bun (“only because you tossed extra to me today, Kageyama”), walking home with him, that makes him feel right. It's this uncertainty that makes him feel wrong, the idea that he's messing up, that his feelings and Hinata's aren't connecting, that he might screw up for good.

He spends the rest of practice on the bench, nursing a bruising cheek and bruising pride, mulling over Daichi's words in his head. Maybe it's not about being gay or not being gay. Kageyama's always assumed he's straight, but he's never actually been interested in a girl. He's never wanted to hold hands with one, never kissed one, never agreed to date one for a week just because he didn't want to risk losing her. He has flat-out refused plenty of advances, all from girls who seemed nice enough, but the thought of refusing Hinata makes his stomach twist in ways he's not used to. He knows now why Hinata sometimes wants to puke before a game.

Stretching his legs out, Kageyama tries to picture doing the things he does with Hinata with a girl. What would she look like? Short hair, maybe, small, prone to smiling—no matter what he tries, it always ends up being Hinata.

He had said they could still do the things they did, even if they weren't dating, but that's not right. Kageyama doesn't just want to do those things with Hinata. He wants...well, he wants Hinata. He wants to be exclusively Hinata's, he wants to be the one who holds his hand and kisses him good morning and gets to share a bed with him. And, miserably, Kageyama finally, finally realizes something.

He admits to himself that no, those aren't things friends do.

Friends don't usually go on dates or make out or get each other off in an embarrassing, awkward rub of hips and knees and skin. Hinata's always known it, he realizes, and maybe Kageyama has, too.

Hinata is waiting by the gate for him, grinning lop-sided and wrong and laughing it off by asking what took him so long. He's hesitant when Kageyama slides their hands together, but eventually their fingers fold in way that make Kageyama's heart thud in his chest and his head spin.

The walk home is unusually quiet, lacking Hinata's anecdotes and jokes he's read off cereal boxes. He balances his bike with one hand, clutching Kageyama's too-tight with the other, and the squeaking of the wheels is the only thing breaking the silence between them.

And then he's talking and Kageyama's head jerks up and he notices they're already going to part ways, and it's too fast and too soon and he still doesn't know what to do because Hinata's right in front of him, sliding his hand away from Kageyama's and looking off to the side like he wants to say something but doesn't know how to.

“Kageyama,” he says, filling the space between them, and Kageyama likes the way his name sounds on Hinata's tongue. “We should hang out tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Kageyama says, immediately, and it feels like the first right thing he's done all week. “Yeah. Okay. Tomorrow.”

Hinata beams at him, a real smile, finally, unlike the one he'd had throughout the day that made Kageyama's insides twist with something that might have been guilt and discomfort. “Yeah, okay!” he says, and Kageyama loves the way the corners of his eyes crinkle and his round cheeks and the hair that's catching the sun behind him.

“Tomorrow,” he says again, because he feels like he needs to say something, but he's not sure what.

And then finally, he's turning to go, because the quiet between them is too weird and too long, when there's a hand on his sleeve and his collar and the sound of something (a bike) clattering to the ground. It's a kiss, just like they've done before, Hinata stretching up and Kageyama bending down, but it's different. It's hard and it's too warm and Kageyama feels like he's suffocating when they finally pull back, and he feels like he's suffocating when Hinata jumps back before he can say anything, hops on his bike, and pedals off with a “seeya!” yelled over his shoulder.

Kageyama walks home in a daze, mouth still tingling from kissing Hinata. No, from Hinata kissing him. From Hinata kissing him and not even waiting around for him to kiss back, dammit, and Kageyama's chest is suddenly hot and he's tapping out a message on the phone he never uses.

“Tomorrow,” he types, “We need to talk. Park.” His fingers hit send before he can change his mind, and this is maybe the second right thing he's done all week.

He waits for Hinata to text him back, but he doesn't. Hinata always, always texts back; Hinata's usually the first one to text. Maybe he's fallen in a ditch and died, Kageyama thinks, curled up on his bed glaring at his phone, willing it to buzz. Text me, he thinks, text me, text me, a mantra; maybe if he thinks hard enough, Hinata will get the message and text him back. Weirder things have happened.

Kageyama's drifting off, still in his clothes from practice, when there's a buzz from his phone and his eyes shoot open.

There's no message, and he's almost disappointed when his sleep-addled brain realizes it's an image, and then he's fumbling over himself to open it, because it has to be from Hinata. There's a blur of orange, he thinks, before it's popping full on his screen and yeah, there's Hinata, sticking his tongue out and holding up his fingers in a peace sign.

The relief flooding Kageyama's chest is unreal, and it's only after he gets his pajamas on, slides into bed and clicks off the light that he realizes he's smiling. He rolls over and hides his face in his pillow like someone might see it (ridiculous), but he can't force himself to stop, and it's then, suffocating into his pillowcase, that something in his chest clicks.

Chapter Text

Sunday is raining.

Kageyama doesn't particularly mind the rain unless it interferes with volleyball, but today is different. Today it feels like it's hanging dark and heavy over him, like maybe it's an omen, like maybe when he meets Hinata at the park—

He gulps down his juice, chokes on it, and realizes how stupid he sounds right now. It's not like Hinata is suddenly going to stop liking him before they meet and they can talk. There's a fluttering in Kageyama's chest when he thinks about it, something new and awkward and good, excitement before a big game, nerves that make his adrenaline rush. He glances at his phone, the picture that Hinata's sent him the night before. He has to be sure, he tells himself as he brings the screen closer to his face and squints at it.

Hinata's still as cute as ever, and the way it makes Kageyama's chest tight and warm to admit it only reinforces his decision.

It's when he's grabbing his jacket and sliding it over his arms, reaching for the umbrella, that there's a knock on his door, and it's then that Kageyama's carefully thought out plan starts to fall apart.

He'd thought it out before sleeping, painstaking and difficult. He'd meet Hinata in the park (in this scenario, it was sunny, but he can deal), and maybe he'd use some big words (Kageyama hadn't quite thought that completely through) and the point was, he'd tell Hinata he wanted to keep dating. Hinata's face would light up like it always does, like it hasn't been doing much that week, and then maybe Kageyama would kiss him, and...yeah, that was a good plan.

And yet, there's Hinata, hair dripping, shaking water all over the floor when Kageyama steps back to let him in, too surprised to say anything.

“Sorry,” Hinata's saying, looking sheepish as he shrugs out of his sweater. “I know you said to meet at the park, but, uh, I was kind of scared you'd cancel because of the rain so I biked here before you could.”

Kageyama's feeling familiar warmth flood through him, then, the way it does when Hinata does something stupid that's worth worrying about. Kageyama's calling him a dumbass, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the bathroom to get a towel.

“I keep telling you not to ride your bike in the rain!” Kageyama smacks Hinata on the back of the head once before toweling him off, ruffling his hair up. Hinata stands there and takes it, only scowling a little.

And that's how they end up in Kageyama's room.

It's fine at first, Kageyama still berating Hinata for his stupid decision (“You could have fallen in a ditch and broken your leg and died”), but then the conversation falters, and they're left sitting there, side-by-side on Kageyama's bed as both of them remember the plan had been to meet in the park.

To talk.

Kageyama hadn't told Hinata what he wants to talk about, but he's pretty sure Hinata knows. It's been a week, after all. He has to know, right? Kageyama's stomach feels like it's twisting itself in knots; his skin feels warm and cold at the same time, reminiscent of the only time he can remember having a fever since he was five. Maybe he's sick. Maybe that's why he's doing this, and if he just tells Hinata to forget it and goes to bed, he'll be fine on Monday and they can put all this behind them—

And then Kageyama's frantically-wandering eyes notice the way Hinata's hands are balled in his lap, the way he's picking at his nail with his thumb, and even Kageyama isn't that much of a jerk. At least not with Hinata. Not anymore.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out, blowing his hair out of his face. That earns a snort from Hinata, and Kageyama's stomach lurches again, and he can do this.

“So,” he starts, and he thinks he sees Hinata's shoulders stiffen while he taps his feet on the floor. Hinata never can sit still, and while most of the time Kageyama doesn't mind it, it's making him feel extra anxious. He jerks his hand out and slams it on Hinata's knee, glaring. “Dumbass, stop moving for one second.”

Hinata stares at him, and Kageyama stares back, and then he's yanking his hand back when he realizes he's touching Hinata. At least Hinata's stopped moving. Or his legs have stopped moving; his knee is still jiggling a little, but Kageyama can deal with that.

“So,” he says again, clearing his throat when it's too harsh. “I mean, it's Sunday.”

Hinata agrees. It is Sunday.

“It's Sunday.” Kageyama seems to be stuck on that fact, that it's Sunday, because it's the only thing he's really sure of. Well, he's sure of other things—Hinata's his friend, he guesses, and he likes him enough to want to kiss him and hold his hand and maybe other things.

“You already said it's Sunday. I know it's Sunday.” Hinata is sounding a little impatient, and he glances at Kageyama. He looks less nervous than a few minutes ago, but there's also something closed-off about his face that Kageyama doesn't really like. “Are you breaking up with me or what? You only had to do it for a week and I get it if you didn't like it, but it's kind of mean to leave me hanging like this, Kageyama.”

It is mean, and Kageyama knows it. He chews at the inside of his cheek. He doesn't want to leave Hinata hanging, but he's not good with words, never has been.

“Why do you like me?” That's not what he's been planning to ask for the last twelve or so hours, but at least it's something. “I mean...how do you know? Maybe we just work really well together.” Maybe it's because you haven't had a lot of friends, Kageyama thinks, but that's him, not Hinata. Hinata has plenty of friends.

Hinata blows out an exasperated mouthful of air, and the silence makes Kageyama's stomach squirm again, like maybe Hinata's going to take it back, or he's not going to answer at all. He's going to open his mouth and say nevermind, it's not important, when Hinata speaks up.

“I don't know. It's not like I want to like you, I just do.” He sounds a little sulky, embarrassed, and Kageyama feels embarrassed too, suddenly. “You're kind of mean and you pull my hair a lot, but I like playing volleyball with you and I like doing other things with you. You know, like...being with you makes me feel warm.”

Kageyama's face is starting to feel warm.

“I'm not gay,” he blurts out, and then Hinata's full-on staring at him, and Kageyama doesn't know why he said that because it's wrong—or not wrong, but it doesn't matter, does it? Kageyama's never cared about boys, but he's never cared about girls, either. He cares about Hinata. Kageyama doesn't know if it's the same care that Hinata has, but from the way his chest feels full of cotton, the way he's always thinking about Hinata's hands and his face and how soft his hair is...

Hinata's face is doing something unpleasant, the tips of his ears getting red like they do when he's upset. Kageyama wishes he was better with words, but he's not, and he never has been, and he probably never will be. He doesn't know how to tell Hinata that being with him makes him happy, even when they fight, or that he likes the way Hinata's hand fits in his, and he likes how easy it is for them to lean shoulder-to-shoulder when they sit next to each other. It's a lot of intangible feelings Kageyama can't say, so he does what he's better at.

He leans forward, grips Hinata's shoulder a little too tight, and kisses him.

At first, Hinata's stiff and unresponsive, and Kageyama panics. Maybe this was the wrong course of action; he's about to kick himself when suddenly it feels like something warms up, and Hinata's leaning in to him, and there's the slide of lips slightly chapped from the rain and the wind and the cold outside that Hinata's ridden his bike in.

It's short, but when Kageyama pulls back, he feels out of breath. Hinata's face looks dusted red, and Kageyama thinks his must, too, from the heat in his cheeks.

“I don't want to stop doing the stuff we do,” he says, awkward and gruff. “Like...everything. Studying together and walking together and—and kissing—“

And then Kageyama's cut off, back pressed against his mattress, and there's something warm and a little damp pressed on top of him. It takes him a minute to recognize it's Hinata, face mashed uncomfortably against the crook of Kageyama's neck, and he's making this weird noise—

“Shit, are you crying?” Kageyama, panicked, tries to pry him off, but then there's snorting. Hinata, that dumbass, is laughing.

“I hate you so much,” he wheezes against Kageyama's neck. “I'm not going to let you break up with me now. I was going to if you didn't like it, but-” And then he's sitting up, and the butterflies in Kageyama's stomach are pressed down by Hinata's weight. “I mean...you do like it, right? That's what this is about?”

Kageyama isn't good with words, so he nods.

“And you're not just using me for kissing like some weird pervert?”

Kageyama shakes his head, and he hopes his expression is sufficiently irritated. It must be, because Hinata cracks a grin—the first real, good grin Kageyama's seen all week—and then their lips are pressed together again, and maybe Kageyama's smiling a little, too. He's been overthinking things, probably, and Kageyama's not very good at thinking, either. He acts on instinct, the way he's able to focus the ball to Hinata, the way he knows what to do on the court, the way he slides his mouth against Hinata's and slides his fingers under the damp shirt and presses them in just the right way to make Hinata bite his lip too hard in retaliation for trying to tickle him.

This is what Kageyama wants, the way Hinata rolls over next to him so they can both look at the ceiling, fidgety like they've never even kissed before, which, proven by the tingling of Kageyama's mouth, is definitely not true.

It's silent for a good ten minutes, Hinata's hip pressed comfortably against Kageyama's, before Hinata speaks again. He has to; it's what he does. Hinata can never stay quiet for long.

“Kageyama,” he says, and even though Hinata says his name plenty, it makes Kageyama's stomach jump.

Kageyama answers with a grunt that's supposed to mean he's listening, but Hinata doesn't answer. Instead, he sits up, crosses his legs, and stares.

“What?” Kageyama's going to crack a joke, to tell Hinata not to think too hard or he'll hurt himself, but the words die on his tongue when he sees the expression on Hinata's face, solemn, serious, a little apprehensive. It looks like a bad news face, an 'I ate all your lunch while you were in the bathroom' face, the kind of face Kageyama doesn't think belongs on Hinata, especially not when he'd looked so happy a few minutes ago. He goes to push himself up, but then there's a hand on his shoulder, and his eyes drift to that, instead. Hinata's hands are small (something he hates, he says, because he can't catch the ball with one hand), but they're warm, and while this sort of contact isn't uncommon at all between the two of them, something about it makes Kageyama's skin crawl in a way that's not entirely unpleasant.

He wonders where the lighthearted atmosphere of an accepted confession (of sorts) went.

“You can't break up with me after I just accepted your shitty confession,” he says drily, although there's a tiny part of him that wonders if maybe that's what it is, if this is one of Hinata's whims that he gets into and then drops when he finds something else. The look on his face, though, nose wrinkled, confused, and then eyes rolling, makes Kageyama feel a little at ease.

“I'm not.” Hinata's fingers are still on his shoulder, though, loose and thoughtful. “There's just something else I wanted to ask. You know, to get it out of the way, I guess.”

This definitely sounds like bad news. Maybe Hinata's going to ask something weird, or...or...Kageyama's not sure, but there are a million scenarios his mind is trying to sort through, to pinpoint the expression on Hinata's face.

And then: “Can I touch you?”

It's Kageyama's turn to scrunch his face into something confused and disgruntled. “You are touching me. I'm not gonna tell you just to quit it because I think you're going to do something weird. We touch all the time.”

Hinata's shaking his head, though. His hand is still warm on Kageyama's shoulder.

“But...what if I wanted to do something weird?” Kageyama feels his stomach lurch again. “What if...what if I'm interested in that, too?”

This is the first time Kageyama thinks he's ever been asked anything like this.

He thinks of the time on the bed, Hinata hot and panting and red-cheeked, and something under his skin is warm.

It's not a bad feeling, but his throat feels a little dry.

“We don't have to if you don't want to,” Hinata's saying in a rush, cheeks pink, and his hand is curling away from Kageyama and against the fabric of his pants. “I just wanted to ask-”

“Yeah,” Kageyama says.

He doesn't know what he's saying yeah to, but he's not saying no, and he hopes Hinata can figure it out better than he can. There's a pause between the two of them, stretching long and a little awkward, before Hinata swallows and opens his mouth again.

“What about now?”

Kageyama really is awful with words, but the 'yeah' he says, throat a little tight, is good enough.

Chapter Text

When Kageyama had given Hinata permission to touch him, he hadn't really known what to expect. Something a little scary, maybe, something they haven't done before.

They haven't done this before, but it's not exactly what he was expecting.

“Hinata.” Kageyama's on his back, frowning up at Hinata, who seems to be intent on prodding the backs of his knees where they're bent to give them both enough room on the bed.

“You said I could touch you.” Hinata sounds completely nonchalant, like what he's doing isn't weird, like he hadn't just spent five minutes wiggling his fingers over Kageyama's shins. “No takebacks.”

Kageyama isn't about to take it back, but he doesn't understand. When Hinata had asked to touch him, he'd steeled himself for...well, touching, something reminiscent of that time on Hinata's bed, a thigh pressed warm and tight against his groin, and—he'd better not think about that when he's on his back.

Hinata wiggles a little next to him, and he looks sort of pleased with himself, but there's also something else. Something that Kageyama can feel in the pit of his stomach, too, realization that he and Hinata are alone in his room, on his bed, and Hinata's been given permission to touch him.

Maybe that's what Hinata's waiting for. Maybe Kageyama's not the only one who doesn't know how to do this, who is unsure of what will happen if he does. Kissing is one thing, and that time on Hinata's bed is another, but knowing that they're doing this on purpose and fully aware of what they're doing is a different thing entirely. Kageyama's stalling, lying there and letting Hinata refuse to touch above his knees like it's some forbidden area.

It's annoying.

Like ripping off a bandaid, Kageyama's arm shoots out and he grips Hinata's wrist, hard. He can hear the sharp intake of breath that threatens a squeak, a noise Hinata infamously makes when he's startled, and Kageyama hates that he thinks it's cute but it also just IS cute, and that's okay. He's done telling himself that it doesn't mean anything, but Kageyama ignores it in favor of something he hopes will be better, something he hopes he ends up not liking.

“Stop being a dumbass, dumbass.” He's maybe gripping Hinata a little too tightly, but Hinata doesn't say anything, chewing at the inside of his mouth as he stares at Hinata with a small frown on his face.

“You said I could—“

“I know I said you could, so why aren't you?” Kageyama wrinkles his nose, displeased. He'd prepared himself for something weird and scary, and this is just...well, weird.

There's a beat of silence while they stare at each other, Hinata's wrist warm and still in Kageyama's curled fingers. This is awkward even for Kageyama; Hinata's usually the one who does the talking, who is unafraid of just saying whatever the hell comes out of his mouth. If he's unwilling to say anything, then it must be bad.

Kageyama opens his mouth to speak, to tell Hinata they don't have to do this, even if it had been Hinata who'd asked. Kageyama's a jerk sometimes, he knows, but he's not that much of a jerk.

Hinata beats him to it, though. “It's weird,” he blurts out, cheeks red, eyes dancing away from Kageyama's gaze. “It's weird that you're watching me and waiting for me to do something. It feels like the time I had to play a tree in preschool and everyone was watching and I got really sick and—“

Suddenly, Kageyama's terrified that Hinata's story is going where he thinks it is, and he's going to end up with puke on his bed.

“If you throw up, I'm going to break up with you for real,” he declares, but something about the statement makes his stomach tighten in something Kageyama recognizes as excitement. Like waking up the day of a big game, realizing it's here and it's real and he's not going back. He's not going to break up with Hinata; it hits him, and he tightens his grip around Hinta's wrist before letting go. He's always been good at making Hinata calm down. He can do it this time, too. “Just do what you want to do. It's just me, and I told you you could. I'm not going to get mad and I'm not going to change my mind.”

There's silence for another few seconds. “You're sure?”

Kageyama gives him a look, and there's a sheepish half-smile crawling across Hinata's face. It makes Kageyama's stomach flip.

This time, when Hinata's fingers find their way back to Kageyama's leg, he doesn't stop at the knee. Small, warm touches tickle the skin of Kageyama's thigh, and he has to breathe out, focus on the ceiling to try and keep himself calm. It's just touching, Hinata's barely even started, he can't get excited just from something stupid like this.

“Do you like me?”

It's an unexpected question, and Kageyama completely forgets to be nervous when he looks back to Hinata. He doesn't look sheepish anymore, though, just thoughtful, staring at where his fingers press to Kageyama's skin. Kageyama doesn't know what to say. He thinks he likes Hinata, after all this, but it's still scary to say it, to cement the fact that he has feelings for Hinata that aren't entirely platonic teammate feelings.

And Hinata, always strangely good at reading someone even as dense as Kageyama, seems to get it when he asks another question.

“How do you feel?”

He's looking at Kageyma this time, brow furrowed, but not in a bad way. It's more curious than anything, deep in thought, the way he looks when they're studying and he doesn't understand a question.

“Cold.” Kageyama is half expecting the pinch to his inner thigh. “I don't know. I already told you I like being around you and I like...kissing you.” The last part comes out a little too gruff, Kageyama's face warming.

“I feel like I want to be around you all the time,” Hinata says, lowering his eyes back to where his hands play with the hem of Kageyama's shorts. “I mean, we are around each other all the time, but I want to be around you even more. Even when you're grumpy. And I feel like I don't want you to be grumpy. I don't want you to make faces like you're unhappy or upset.”

Yeah, Kageyama can relate. He hates seeing Hinata upset. He even hates the way he can tell Hinata's getting tense, shoulders getting just a little less relaxed, face a little tighter.

“I'm not upset.” He's not really sure where Hinata is going with this, but everything else they've done has been by blind leaps. It's like the first time they'd played together. Kageyama goes with it, following Hinata's lead, letting his words be shaped and determined by how Hinata moves.

Hinata's fingers work their way a little higher, tickling over Kageyama's inner thigh, hiking up his shorts just a tiny bit. Kageyama swallows, but Hinata keeps speaking, giving him something else to focus on other than the twist of the nerves in his chest. “I know you're not upset, stupid. I'm not talking about now, I'm talking about, like...always.” Hinata looks up at him again, strangely focused and free of the anxiety that had been there just moments ago. “I want to make you happy.”

That doesn't help the tightness in Kageyama's belly. He swallows again, and this time he has to focus on the fingers creeping up the inside of his legs instead of Hinata's words. “I am happy. I like playing with you, and eating lunch with you, and going to your house, and...yeah. I'm happy.”

It's the first time in a while Kageyama can really, truly say that. He's happy. His team makes him happy. Hinata makes him happy.

Who cares if he's gay or not.

To his credit, Hinata looks a little flustered, like he's not expecting that, and his hands still. And then there's that sunshine grin, and he opens his mouth to talk—but Kageyama finally understands what Hinata had been going for when he'd asked if Kageyama likes him.

“I like you. I like being with you, too. I hate it when you're unhappy, and I hate it even more when it's because of me.” The words tumble out of Kageyama's mouth now that he's finally decided he doesn't care, he just wants Hinata. That's it. It doesn't matter what kind of relationship they have, there doesn't even need to be a name for it. It's just him and Hinata. If that's dating, fine. If it's being in love, fine. Kageyama doesn't know, and he doesn't care, either.

He turns his eyes to meet Hinata's, whose grin has faded.

“It's good,” he finishes, awkward again. “You're good.”

If Hinata's grin had been sunshine before, this time it's the sun itself, bright and shining and hard to look at because he's suddenly launching his full weight on Kageyama's chest, touching completely forgotten in favor of trying to wiggle them as close together as possible. Kageyama can't help the way the corner of his mouth twitches up, and it feels like everything he's ever been worried about in the entirety of his time on earth doesn't matter, won't matter ever because Hinata's smiling and he's warm and yeah, it's hard to breathe, but so what?

“You're so embarrassing, Kageyama,” Hinata chirps, knee digging into Kageyama's groin in a way that is entirely un-arousing.

They end up rolling over and over onto the floor, and Hinata somehow ends up pinning Kageyama, fingers too tight around his wrists, crowing something about being 'the strongest', which is completely untrue, he'd just caught Kageyama off-guard. They end up staring at each other, breathing heavily, Hinata's face flushed with exertion—and suddenly Kageyama understands what he'd meant when he'd asked if it would be okay to touch.

He wants to touch Hinata, too, to follow the way the red creeps over Hinata's face, down his neck, disappears under the shirt that exposes part of his shoulder. Kageyama can see Hinata's throat move when he swallows, and suddenly it feels like everything is slow motion. It's not, and maybe Hinata is just moving very slowly when he touches his fingers to Kageyama's cheek, when he smooths the pads down the side of Kageyama's jaw, down his neck, over his throat.

Kageyama doesn't move, partly because he feels frozen, partly because he doesn't want Hinata to think he's trying to stop it or to get away. Kageyama suddenly can't think of anything other than being touched by Hinata, and it's not weird or scary, it's just...Hinata. That's all Kageyama can seem to use to describe what's been going on. Hinata. That's all he really needs, anyway.

“You have pretty nice skin.” Hinata's voice is a little tight, like he's trying to seem in control when he's really not. He's never been very good at hiding how he feels, but this time Kageyama's not going to mention it. He doesn't think he'd fare much better.

“Thanks.” Is that what you do in this situation? Kageyama isn't sure, but Hinata doesn't look too sure, either.

For a second, Kageyama's terrified he's messed up. Hinata is shifting, sitting up, moving off of him, and Kageyama wants to grab him and drag him back, say sorry, do whatever it takes so things aren't awkward because he suddenly wants this, Hinata's warm hands and breath and the weight on top of him. But Hinata's just moving to push up the hem of Kageyama's shirt, expose his stomach, ruck it up his chest. The sigh of relief Kageyama's about to exhale turns into something else, something a little shaky.

He's never really been shy about his body. Kageyama doesn't care about things like that, especially not when they're always getting undressed in front of each other. Somehow, this is different. Hinata is looking at him a little too intensely, like he's trying to solve a math problem, and Kageyama's tempted to shove him away, push a hand into his face to block his view. Anything to stop feeling weirdly exposed even though it's just his chest.

There's something about the way Hinata wets his lips that doesn't make it any better. Or maybe it does. Kageyama doesn't know; this is weird and confusing and he's too warm.

Hinata's fingers graze over his stomach, sliding around his bellybutton, but this time it doesn't tickle. This time, it makes Kageyama's breath catch in his throat.

“This is okay, right?” Hinata sounds a little shaky, like he's not sure what he's doing, either, but there's a hard determination underneath it all that has Kageyama nodding his head, yeah, it's okay.

What's not okay is the way Hinata goes agonizingly slowly, like he's trying to memorize something with his hands. Or the way he presses them to Kageyama's chest, over his nipples, and Kageyama likes the way the palms feel sliding over him. It's also not okay the way he can feel his shorts getting tight just from this.

God, he hopes Hinata doesn't notice.

But he's moving, and stretching his body up a little, and of course there has to be a thigh suddenly rubbing against a place it shouldn't be, and of course Kageyama has to breathe out a little too hard, a little too surprised, and Hinata's gaze snaps up to meet his.

Kageyama's expecting embarrassment. What he gets is a cheeky snicker that makes the heat rise in his face in indignation instead of excitement, shoving at Hinata's chest with his palms.

“Shut the fuck up, dumbass,” Kageyama snaps before Hinata even has the chance to say anything. “It's not like you'd do any better.”

Hinata's grin falters, then, and Kageyama takes a good few seconds to realize why.

Ah.

He doesn't know if it's possible for his face to get any more red.

“It's not like it's my fault,” Hinata mumbles, moving his palms back to the flat of Kageyama's stomach, looking sheepish and embarrassed. “I'm a growing boy and you...I mean, it happens.”

It does happen, and Kageyama shouldn't be surprised, but he feels a strange combination of excited and interested and downright mortified. This only gets worse when Hinata's eyes creep back up to catch Kageyama's, and he worries his bottom lip, puffing a cheek in thought, before coming to a decision.

“You can touch me, too, you know.”

And god, that shouldn't come as such a surprise and it shouldn't make the heat pool in Kageyama's stomach, but it does, the embarrassed flush on Hinata's ears, the way he fidgets with the waistband of Kageyama's shorts not out of any desire to get them off, but just absent anxiety. Kageyama's reaching out to stop him before he even realizes it, hand closing around Hinata's.

This has been pretty one-sided for too long. Kageyama decides he needs to man up. Hinata wants to touch him, sure, but it's suddenly occuring to Kageyama that maybe Hinata wants to be touched by him, too, and that's got him sort of short-circuiting.

He starts nice and simple, a hand on Hinata's cheek, a little rounder than Kageyama's own. It's hot, and sort of amazing how Hinata doesn't flinch or move away at all; in fact, it sort of seems like he leans into it. Kageyama's chest is overwhelmed with something warm and heavy, and he has to reach over and pinch Hinata's nose to make up for that, just so he doesn't overheat or suffocate or something equally as unpleasant.

“Ass,” Hinata says, a little nasal from where Kageyama's still holding his nose.

Kageyama makes up for it by ruffling his hand through Hinata's hair—soft, fluffy, sort of like a kitten—and then reaching out and tugging the hem of Hinata's still-damp shirt.

“You should take this off.” Kageyama's not meaning it to be suggestive, or dirty, or anything of that sort. Hinata's been in damp clothes for way too long, and if he gets sick, it's a problem for both of them. Hinata seems to agree when he quickly shuffles his way out of the shirt, ruffling his hair further.

And then it's Kageyama's turn to press his hands to Hinata's stomach, avoiding the places he very well knows are ticklish. Hinata's skin is so warm, even under the damp shirt, and Kageyama can see where the flush reaches down his neck; he can see where Hinata's own nipples have gotten a little hard, and—

“Stop staring at them!” Hinata's snapping, reaching up and covering his chest with his hands. “Gross, you're like an old man, Kageyama.”

“Stupid, you're the one who was just touching mine!” And Hinata's sputtering, indignant, something about how that's just natural boyish curiosity and he hadn't been staring or anything, but Kageyama's getting too hot, and this is taking too long. Going slow had been okay before, when nerves were winning out over anything else, but now he's a little impatient, a little possessive, a little more like his usual self. He wrenches Hinata's hands away, ignoring half-hearted squawks of protest, and then he's pressing his thumb to Hinata's nipple, rubbing the pad over it, sort of stunned by how it actually feels.

There's a pressure against his crotch, and Kageyama's next breath comes out as a groan.

“You're playing dirty.” Hinata is flushed and breathing a little more heavily, but he seems to be okay. More than okay, actually, the way he grinds his knee against the slowly growing tent in Kageyama's shorts. “I was being nice about it. You're just handsy, Kageyama. Handsy and grabby and rude.”

And then he's straddling Kageyama's legs, sliding higher on his lap, leaning in and their stomachs suddenly press together with a pressure that has Kageyama's breath leaving his lungs a little too quickly. More than that, though, he can feel something hot and hard against him that is definitely not Hinata's knee, confirmed by the way Hinata's body twitches a little.

“Dumbass,” Kagyama grits out, grinding his teeth together.

Hinata looks up at him, unphased, cheeks distinctly red. “I wasn't really expecting it to feel like that,” he admits, but that doesn't seem to stop him from wiggling his hips against Kageyama's, testing the way they rub together, and Kageyama can't really help but push up into the pressure.

This is very different from the last time they'd done something like this. They're actually touching now, more or less, even though there's fabric in the way, and Kageyama isn't thinking about whether or not it's weird or if he likes Hinata. He's thinking about the way it feels, the fact that it's Hinata warm against him, hips rutting against his own, making a weird, startled noise every so often when he moves.

Kageyama's not entirely silent himself, although if he's asked later, he'll deny every breath that's a little too loud. He'll deny pressing his face against Hinata's hair, feeling embarrassed and frustrated with feeling embarrassed.

He'll deny the fact that he comes first, all over the inside of his shorts, because of the small hips grinding against his own and the breathy sounds Hinata makes when he moves, the way Hinata presses his face against Kageyama's neck as his thighs shake just a little.

However, Kageyama's not going to deny that he likes it, that he likes Hinata, that maybe he is just a tiny bit gay for this sunshine-bright dumbass he's come to consider probably his best friend, and probably a lot more.