Work Text:
“Hey, your phone is ringing!”
Nishinoya glanced up towards Hinata, who was standing at the edge of the gym where their bags were. They were here late, working on receives; Hinata certainly needed to work on them, and considering that Nishinoya wanted to work some on his serves and knew how to help Hinata out, things had worked out like this. Everyone else had already left after practice – it had ended maybe forty-five minutes ago, Nishinoya thought, so it could be his mom calling him, or something.
Huffing, Nishinoya lifted the hem of his damp shirt and wiped it across his sweaty forehead.
“I’m practicing!” He declared with exasperation, because his mom knew that if he didn’t show up at home when he was supposed to, it meant that he’d decided to stay late after practice. Hinata already had to leave soon (he needed to bike home before it got dark, at their captain’s insistence) and so the time they already had was short.
Shoes squeaking as he moved away from the court, he jogged over to Hinata where he stood, holding out his hand to the redhead and wiggling his fingers expectantly as he waited for his phone to be handed over.
“Who is it?” Hinata asked curiously as Nishinoya’s eyes flickered down to the screen. He blinked in confusion as he saw who it was – flickering across his screen was a little broken heart emoji, and the words ‘GLASS HEART!!!’
Why was Asahi calling him?
“Asahi?” He asked as soon as he hit answer and put the phone up to his hear, only to hear the sounds of muffled sobbing on the other end of the phone.
“Hey?! Hey, Asahi, idiot, what’s wrong?!” Nishinoya’s voice grew in volume as his concern did; okay, Asahi was delicate, and they all knew that, but to get a phone call from the crying ace of Karasuno was a bit outside of the norm, even for the pair of them. As Asahi struggled to get his breathing calmed down on the other end, Nishinoya put his phone over the microphone and looked to Hinata.
“Practice’s done.”
Hinata looked like he wanted to pout for a few seconds, but the redhead nodded anyways, looking a bit worried himself.
“I hope everything is okay? Should I stay until you figure it out?” Hinata asked, and Nishinoya shook his head.
“Go ahead home. I’ll figure it out – don’t worry.”
And figure it out, he would.
---
“You what?” Nishinoya’s eyes widened as he listened to Asahi finished recounting his tale over the phone. It had already taken another five minutes for the ace to calm down enough to be able to speak him, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, it had taken another five for him to finish the story in itself. From what Nishinoya had gleaned, the crisis was as followed:
After practice had ended, Asahi had stopped at the convenience store a couple blocks away from the school (which he normally didn’t do) because he hadn’t eaten lunch today, and he was beyond starving. He’d gone in and been browsing the different boxed lunches and various foods when the manager had suddenly come outside, accusing Asahi of stealing things and sneaking them into the pockets of his baggy jacket or into his practice duffel. Of course, Asahi had been mortified to the point of tears, and even when he had emptied out all of his things to show the manager he was innocent, the manager had still waved a broom at him and demanded that he get out of his store.
Needless to say, Asahi was about as devastated as one could get. After he’d been kicked out of the store, he’d made his way to the local park, sat himself on a bench, and tried not to cry too much. Then, apparently, an old man strolling through the area had seen Asahi and thought he was a drunken college student, which had resulted in threats to call the police. Asahi had shown his ID and tried to explain that he was fine, and although it had eventually gotten the man off his back…
Asahi was straight-up sobbing by the time he had called Nishinoya. His story had even ended up with a particularly pitiful, ”And I’m still hungry!” that left the libero wondering exactly how Asahi took care of himself, anywhere, ever.
“Okay, wait, what park are you out again? I’ll be right there!” Once Asahi had rattled off (more like mumbled) the address into the other end of the phone, Nishinoya hung up on him and moved over to his bag. He yanked his sweatshirt on – it was decently chilly outside, after all – and threw his bag over his shoulder before making sure the janitor was still around to lock up the gym after him. He caught sight of the man in the hallway outside of the gymnasium, and waved at him before he sprinted out of the building to go and find Asahi’s park.
---
The run was long, and halfway there, it started to drizzle. Of course it started to drizzle. By the time Nishinoya arrived at the park, it looked as if the skies were going to open up and straight up pour. He had to find Asahi, first – and find him, he did.
“Asahi!”
He called out to the taller male who he could see on the far bench, hunched over with his head in between his legs.
“Hey, idiot! Don’t just sit there in the rain, you shoulda moved under a tree or something, at least!” Nishinoya scolded the other male as he came to a stop in front of him. Asahi glanced up towards him, rain trickling down his face and soaked hair falling out of his loose ponytail and into his face.
“Today’s the worst day ever.” Asahi whispered, so quietly that Nishinoya almost couldn’t hear it over the sound of the rain. Asahi leaned forward and set his forehead against Nishinoya’s duffel where it rest on his hip with a soft thump. He didn’t move once he sat there, and Nishinoya paused. Was Asahi really that frazzled?
“Hey, you’re frightening. But you know better than anyone else that you aren’t actually scary. Y’know?” Nishinoya felt that, if he failed to comfort Asahi right now, he might find the ace in tears again. Plopping a hand down on Asahi’s hand, he pushed a few of the strands away from the other’s face, and after a few moments more, Asahi tilted his head back to look at Nishinoya.
“You look short when your hair gets wet.” Asahi mumbled again, and Nishinoya lifted his hand to hit the other male on the head, rather than to mess with his hair.
“I came all this way to get you, idiot.”
“… Thanks.”
Nishinoya grinned lopsidedly and stepped away from Asahi, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Let’s get out of the rain, Ace-ahi.”
Asahi groaned and rubbed one of his eyes as he stood up from the bench, water dripping from his eyelashes and trickling down his chin.
“Not that again.” Asahi protested, but he laughed anyways, and Nishinoya couldn’t help but smile. At least it seemed like Asahi had forgotten all about the convenience store debacle.
---
As it turned out, he hadn’t.
“Asahi, I’m hungry.” Nishinoya groaned, standing outside the very convenience store that Asahi had gotten kicked out only a week before. The two of them were supposed to go back to school later – they’d just ended practice, and then they had to go back for parent-teacher meetings, or something. Either way, Nishinoya was starving, and they didn’t have time to go all the way home and back. He just wanted something to eat.
“Nishinoya, I can’t go in there.” Asahi whispered, and Nishinoya raised a hand to jab Asahi accusingly in the chest.
“Act tough! Come on!” He declared, and Asahi only looked down to him with watery eyes all over again. For all that people thought he was scary, Asahi was a giant softie. Forget being a glass heart – he was a pillow heart. Not even a pillow, because those had some resistance. He was a feather heart. A cotton-candy heart. All things soft and lacking in resistance and strength (when it came to being off the court, at least. Volleyball was an entirely different can of worms).
“No.” Asahi protested and Nishinoya sighed, turning to the window of the convenience store and banging his forehead on the display.
“How can I get you to come inside?” He asked pitifully.
“Leave me out here.”
“I’m not gonna leave you standing outside a convenience store by yourself! Besides, you’ll probably just get in trouble if you’re standing here and looking shady!”
That seemed to get to Asashi. He wrung his hands out in front of him and looked, wide-eyed, at Nishinoya.
“You think that’s really gonna happen?” He asked, looking like he definitely believed it. Asahi glanced to his left, and sure enough, a woman waiting at a bus stop was giving the pair of them curious looks. It didn’t help that Nishinoya’s hairstyle was so wild, either, and not exactly traditional. Nishinoya saw that he might’ve sunk a line in, and he knew it was time to seize his chance.
“Yeah, it’s gonna happen! So come inside with me!”
Asahi paused at that, and gave one final shake of his head.
“Damn it!” Nishinoya swore, and with one furious, last-ditch effort, he reached out with his hand, grabbed Asahi’s, and dragged him in. Asahi stumbled in behind him, and as luck would have it, there wasn’t anyone in the convenience store that had been there the last time Asahi was in there. Nishinoya moved to the fridge section, picking out a convenience store bento for himself, and even one for Asahi, who couldn’t seem to pick.
It wasn’t until after they’d paid and left that the pair realized that they were still holding hands – in fact, it wasn’t until they stood at the threshold of the school, ready to walk back in, that they noticed.
“A-asahi…” Nishinoya mumbled, at loss for words for once, and Asahi pulled his hand away with a faint blush.
“See you at practice tomorrow!” The ace blurted, and then he was gone.
Nishinoya plucked a California roll from the bento box and chewed it slowly. He pretended that his hand wasn’t pleasantly warm, and that Asahi’s hadn’t fit just right in it, because that was stupid.
He liked Shimizu, after all. Definitely not Asahi. Their precious manager was all they need.
---
“Nishinoya!! Look out!”
The libero didn’t get enough time to pull his mouth off of the bottle before one of Asahi’s killer serves smashed him in the back of the head.
---
“N-nishinoya?”
With a groan, Nishinoya’s eyes flickered open – blearily, he closed them almost automatically afterwards.
“Too bright.” He muttered, and to his surprise, the response he got was a tearful sob. Hesitantly, Nishinoya opened his eyes again, fighting the terrible throb in his head and the immediate need to close his eyes again. It was as he did this that he realized something strange, but familiar – the warm, soft weight of Asahi’s calloused hand in his again, holding it against the sheet.
“I thought I killed you.” Asahi said, his voice quivering as he used his free hand to reach up and wipe tears away from the corners of his wide, dark eyes.
“With a serve? Idiot! I don’t die that easily!” The volume in Nishinoya’s voice died off as he realized just how loud he was being. His head hurt. He managed to drum up a smile, anyways, and was ready to make a smart remark about being stronger than a serve when something else entirely spilled from his lips.
“Why’re you holding my hand?”
Shit, he was always too blunt. He should get better at that. Asahi froze like a deer in the headlights, glancing down to their joined hands, and then looking back to Nishinoya anxiously.
“I was nervous. You… you passed out cold and woke up for a few moments before you fell asleep. The athletic trainer wasn’t here and I panicked and sprinted down to the convenience store to grab some f---“
He was interrupted by Nishinoya, who blinked sleepily up at him.
“You went to that one you got kicked out of?” He asked, getting a nod in response before he continued, “And I had to force you to go in with me that time? Geez.”
Asahi stiffened, and then he leaned forward so that their noses were almost touching.
“Don’t joke around! I was really worried!”
Nishinoya paused as the space had closed between them, staring up at the other male’s glassy eyes, and once again – shit, had he really messed his brain up that bad – he did something without really approving it first. Leaning up, he pressed his lips to Asahi’s, gentle and chaste and not lasting long as his neck screamed at him for the movement itself.
He flopped back against the pillow with a groan, keeping one eye open to study Asahi, who was blushing heavily above him.
“What was that for?” Asahi asked in that glass-heart voice, like it might just shatter if Nishinoya pushed too hard.
“Thanking you.” Nishinoya responded quietly, and gave Asahi’s hand a half-hearted squeeze before his eyes flickered closed.
“God, that serve was hard.”
He fell back asleep to the sound of Asahi’s nervous laughter.
---
“--- You shoulda been there! He was crying all over my bedside, holding my hand like I was waking up from a coma, and---“
“I was not!”
Nishinoya turned to look at his protesting boyfriend with a grin when the other male protested and gave him a half-hearted shove. Asahi was burning red with embarrassment, and Nishinoya poked his cheek playfully before he turned back to his pupil.
“Moral of the story is, holding hands is good for the soul. And so are convenience stores.” Nishinoya finished, despite the fact that Asahi was shaking his head wildly as he stood behind the shorter upperclassman.
Despite Asahi’s fervent protesting, Hinata Shouyou turned with as much of a thoughtful look as he’d ever had on his face, and looked at one Kageyama Tobio where he stood across the gym. As if he could feel eyes on him, Kageyama’s head jerked up from where he’d been staring down at the volleyball in his hands, and he narrowed his eyes at Hinata.
“What do you want, dumbass?”
“… Wanna go to a convenience store?!”