Chapter Text
The day of the show was light. Mainly just stretching and light barre work to get warmed up. Kageyama’s stomach was tight, making it hard for him to eat. He tried all of his usual techniques to calm him down, but to no avail. It was around 2 pm when his thumb hovered over his phone.
“This is ridiculous,” he mumbled to himself, finally pressing on the contact.
His nerves were like a roller coaster, shooting up only to flatline seconds later.
“Hello?”
His voice alone had already worked wonders on Kageyama’s stomach.
“Hinata,” he breathed. He had no plan on where this conversation was going to go, but he needed to hear his voice. He needed someone to calm him down.
Hinata must have heard his desperation, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just..” he trailed off.
“Nervous?” Hinata finished for him.
“Yeah,” Kageyama could feel his poker face betray him, smiling slightly.
“Well, you’ll never guess what happened to me at this morning's practice,” Hinaat began to ramble, effectively distracting Kageyama. He didn’t even know what he was talking about, hearing his voice was enough. They spoke on the phone, well mostly Hinata spoke on the phone, for another 20 minutes before Hinata had to get back to work.
“Kageyama,” Hinata stopped him from hanging up, “I’m excited to see you perform today, you’re going to do great.”
Kageyama could hear him nodding in confidence through the phone.
“Thanks,” his voice thick, nerves returning, but for a different reason.
The seriousness in Hinata’s voice dissolved as quickly as it appeared, “Anyways, I gotta go! Bye Bakageyama!”
“Shut up,” Kageyama rolled his eyes and hung up the phone. His stomach fluttered again at the thought of Hinata coming to his show.
With his nerves calmed, he sat down to eat his lunch.
The next thing he knew, they were an hour out from the performance, all walking around the stage, going to and from the changing rooms and makeup rooms. This was Kageyama’s least favorite part about ballet. He loved performing, but the entire production that went into a pre-performance look was a little extravagant.
Nonetheless, kageyama sat in front of the mirror, highlighting his face with eyeliner and concealer, making his face just a little bit more striking. His coaches all said the same thing when it came to makeup.
“The people in the back of the theatre should see your face, but the people in the front row shouldn’t know you’re wearing makeup.”
It was a fine line Kageyama, and the rest of the dancers, walked before each stage. He finished up his mascara and moved away from the mirror, letting someone else take his place. With him in his costume and his makeup done, he had nothing to do but wait around and go over his steps. His palms began to sweat. This was the most nervous he’d ever been for a performance, and he had a sneaking suspicion on why. He thought of what Hinata would do before his performances. Hinata oozed confidence in everything he did with Kageyama, he couldn’t imagine the red-head getting bad stage fright. His thoughts wandered to Hinata dancing, thinking of how delicately he flew through the air, capturing what it meant to be graceful, yet full of power.
Then he imagined Hinata sitting out in the sea of people before the stage. Any sense of calm he had harnessed quickly fled him.
Relax, he heard his honeyed voice, and immediately let his shoulders drop.
How does he affect me despite not even being here?
But, if it works, then who is Kagyemaa to judge his teaching methods?
“Curtain up in 15 minutes!” Kageyama heard the tech assistant yell.
He tried to clear his mind, wanting it to be a blank slate, but all he could conjure up was the color orange.
He heard the overture music start.
It was time to perform.
*
When Kageyama first came onto the stage, Hinata was taken aback by his striking. He was donned in a white costume, that made his blue eyes shine under the lights. His black hair in stark contrast with the snowy outfit. Hinata would never forget the amount of grace that adorned all of Kageyama’s movements. Even the way he walked onto the stage, he commanded the entire audience. He was in complete control of the stage, of the audience, of himself.
Hinata watched with fascination, Nekomata was right. Hinata had only seen what Kageyama needed work on. He’d never seen this side of the dancer. The side that no one could hold a candle to. Hinata couldn;t fight down the disappointment when Kageyama ran off the stage. The rest of the ballet was boring without him on stage.
After the intermission, Hinata knew what number Kageyama was in next. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until his heart began to go wild. When the music started, Kageyama leapt onto the stage.
Just like we practiced, Hinata mentally coached him, relax.
This was Kageyama’s best performance of the piece they slaved over. His jumps all landing softly, all flowing into the next movement. Hinata felt his throat tighten. All their hard work had paid off.
When the curtain dropped, and the lights in the theatre were raised, Hinata stayed in his seat, still floored at Kageyama’s performance. It’d been so long since he’d seen a ballet performance. His heart ached with longing. His eyes teared up. He missed it. He missed it so much. He thought he could live without dancing, without ballet, but Kageyama had grabbed his hand and ran, not bothering to look back. And Hinata had stumbled behind him, not losing step the entire way. Hinata knew it was going to be a long road. A long road mentally and physically.
He finally stood, making his way to the stage door. He tiptoed around the costumes laying on the floor, and around the stretching dancers, all who eyed him as he picked his way around backstage.
“Hinata!”
He twirled at the voice, his own voice abandoning him.
Kageyama walked over to him and pulled him into one of the side rooms. Hinata had no words, throwing his arms around the dancers neck.
“You were amazing,” he finally found his voice, pulling back, “And you did the jump sequence perfectly!” He began to blabber excitedly, going on about how amazing Kageyama was.
His voice was cut off by Kageyama’s lips pressing firmly to his own. Hinata’s brain malfunctioned. He melted into the kiss, closing the gap between them again. His hands roamed through his silky hair. He’d longed for this moment.
They pulled apart, breathless.
“I’m so proud of you,” Hinata whispered. He leaned in to kiss Kageyama again, already missing his soft lips.
Kageyama broke the kiss, and pressed his forehead to Hinata’s.
“Come back to ballet,” Kageyama breathed, “Come back to me.”
Hinata opened his eyes to be met with striking blue. His throat tightened again, only letting him nod slightly.
They stepped apart. Hinata studied him for a moment, “Stage makeup is a good look for you,” he added, lightening the mood. And he was right. The eyeliner made his eyes bigger, and his skin practically glowed.
Kageyama just rolled his eyes, “Come on,” and he reached down for Hinata’s hand, interlacing their fingers, “Let’s go home.”
They spent the night together, the night filled with talking and feelings rather than passion. They talked of everything under the sun until their voices were coarse and their hearts light. He laid tucked in Kageyama’s arms, his eyes wet from happiness. He felt Kageyama start to drift off to sleep.
“Goodnight Kageyama,” he whispered.
“Tobio,” he sighed, “Call me Tobio.
“Goodnight Tobio.”
“Goodnight Shoyo,” and Hinata smiled at his name before he, too, drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, Hinata went to the boxing gym late, to announce his resignation from the sport competitively.
“I’ll still box and workout with you guys,” he looked down at the floor and then back up at his friends, “But I think it’s time I stop running away.”
They accepted this, and before Hinata left, he created a schedule with his Ukai, and stepped out to make a phone call.
“Good morning Nekomata,” he listened for a moment before responding, “Yeah I can come in right now, I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”
An hour of sitting in Nekomata’s office at the studio going over a regiment and personal therapy plan, Hinata’s chest felt full, he was going to dance again. Even if it killed him, even if it destroyed his other knee, he wasn;t leaving this sport that easily. He was a dancer. Right down to his core, and all it took was a grumpy neighbor who couldn;t jump to remind him of that.
“Nekomata-sensei,” He turned at Kageyama standing in the doorway, “You called for me?”
He looked down at Hinata sitting across the desk from the director of the ballet.
“Yes, yes,” Nekomata smiled, “I think you will be good for each other.”
Hinata smiled at Kageyama, his blue eyes sparkling at the red-head.
If only Nekomata knew.