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Hinata Shouyou is 20 years old. He loves volleyball, sweets, and holiday breaks when he doesn't have college classes. He works at a convenience store part-time, and it's not a bad job, but it always leaves him itching for physical activity, and he's terrible at putting things on the higher shelves. The customers and his coworkers are nice enough, although they can be a bit of a pain sometimes. Basically, it's an ordinary job, he's an ordinary guy, and his friends are a little...well.
That's how he finds himself here, in a dim club, surrounded by too-loud music and the smell of sweat and strong perfume. He feels out-of-place among his rowdy co-workers, Tanaka on his right and Nishinoya on his left trying to nudge him into trying some neon-colored drink they've ordered. They've been here before, and it's pretty obvious from the way they hoot and holler at the stage they're facing. To be honest, Hinata wishes he could turn tail and run, but he's already tried that twice; the result is being firmly sandwiched between his two pals who refuse to let go of his arms even when he insists he really has to pee. He doesn't, but it was worth a shot.
Hinata has never in his life been in a strip club; he's never even had a girlfriend, and the sight of the sensual bodies on the stage has him wishing he was home and curled up in blankets. He can't do this, and he keeps telling his co-workers, shooting a pleading glance at the older Sugawara sitting across from him. He gets a sympathetic smile, but no move to help, and he glowers. Suga is dead to him. For this week, anyway. There is no volleyball here, there is only embarrassment and skimpy clothing. Hinata refuses to look up from his lap.
It's like that, staring down at the table shame-faced and out of place, that it happens. Nishinoya and Tanaka are nudging him, over and over and over, saying something over the din of the club that Hinata thinks he probably doesn't want to hear. After the twentieth consecutive nudge, he finally glances up.
He's expecting to see another girl, admittedly cute enough, but not something he's particularly interested in when he could be home playing video games or watching a match on TV. He's about to glance right back down, cheeks pink, but his eyes snap up again because this is something he has certainly not expected to see in a seedy club specializing in bikinis and cowgirl outfits.
That is 100% definitely a pair of sweatpants and a zipped up sweater.
It's not just because it's something having to do with sports, he tells himself. It's just so out of place in this sea of sequins and fluffy skirts that he has to look. He feels his heart start to pound because finally, finally there is SOMETHING familiar here, something he knows, can latch onto. Maybe the girl is cute, even; he wants to see who it is. He knows, logically, that it's just a costume, but maybe...
Hinata's eyes trail up, and then his jaw drops.
That is most definitely not a girl.
The boys next to Hinata erupt in laughter when they see he's finally noticed what's going on on stage. He's so shocked that he can't even tell them to shut up and quit laughing in his ear, allowing his shoulders to be smacked and his hair to be ruffled while they guffaw. Hinata's still staring at the guy (most definitely a guy) on stage, tall and imposing and not very sexy-looking at all. Maybe this is some kind of mistake. Maybe he's one of the workers, or a stage hand, or something.
And then he starts to unzip his sweater.
He can feel his cheeks starting to heat up again, blood rushing back to his face after having gone pale from shock. This kid is actually going to strip? Hinata feels his pulse getting quicker and it's like he's suddenly been put on the spot, like he's somewhere he shouldn't be and he's sputtering that he's gotta pee really bad, guys, let me up, but they're too busy linking their arms with his and pointing at the stage and saying how this is absolutely the best club, we told you, because it's got girls AND guys.
Hinata sort of wishes he'd paid attention to them beforehand when they were dragging him into this particularly shady area.
Most of the people in the area have lost interest, taking the reprieve from busty girls to get themselves more drinks, take a bathroom run, chat about what's going on at work. Hinata, however, can't bring himself to look away, even when it's obvious Tanaka and Nishinoya are no longer paying attention. There are others, too, not just him, and he can slowly start to see why; this guy isn't the textbook definition of “seductive” by any means, but when he tosses off his jacket and hikes his sweatpants down low on his hips, Hinata feels his heart thump. He's tall, really tall, and he's got this sort of aura about him. He looks pissed, but he has a pretty enough face, Hinata thinks, for a guy.
He should not, not, not be watching this.
This feels even more dirty than watching the girls on stage, whom he has been steadfastly refusing to look at. Hinata watches as he reveals a too-tight uniform, short shorts and capped sleeves, and he flushes because that is definitely a volleyball uniform. It's a girl's volleyball uniform, but it's volleyball nonetheless, and Hinata gets the feeling some god somewhere is laughing at him. It's probably just a costume, one of the themed outfits this place seems fond of, but this guy is built, and Hinata can see him on the court. It wouldn't be a stretch to imagine seeing him in a match, slamming those hands against a ball instead of using them to slowly, slowly slide his shirt up his muscled abdomen.
It's rude to stare, and Hinata knows it. He knows it, but that doesn't make it any easier to look away as he watches the guy run a hand through his smooth black hair; he'll look away now, he tells himself...now...now...
And then there's a pair of eyes looking straight into his and that's it, he's done, he's out of here. Hinata almost upends the table trying to flee, knocking a drink onto his lap in his haste to try and run. By some miracle he's able to hop out of his seat, but then he's tripping over his own shoes, tumbling forward and the last thing he notices is his head colliding with the edge of the table and people yelling.
Xxx
Hinata comes into work the next morning with a bandage on his forehead and the corner of his mouth, disgruntled, cranky, and refusing to talk to anyone about why he looks like he's been in a fight. The important thing, he tells himself, tying on his apron, is that he will never, ever go out anywhere with those guys again.
The familiarity of the convenience store and the normalcy of the customers is refreshing, and he feels himself relaxing soon enough. He's even smiling, finally, greeting customers and trying not to look scary with these bandages all over his face, and he thinks it's working, doing wonders for his bad mood. He's only got an hour to go, he tells himself during a pep-talk, he can do this, today wasn't so bad at all and he'll take a hot bath when he gets home, and-
A ring signals the arrival of a new customer, and he jumps and twists around, grin plastered on his face to welcome them.
Or him.
He is tall, and Hinata feels himself shrinking back immediately, but not because of his height. It's because of those eyes, glaring daggers at him, that shiny black hair, that same exact sweatsuit that he'd had nightmares about among the pounding headaches from the events of last night.
Hinata's scrambling back before he can think of what to do, stammering and pointing and then he's hitting one of the shelves with his back. He winces as something falls from the upper shelf and smacks him right on top of the head.
They stare at each other for what feels like hours. It's late, they're alone, and no matter how much Hinata wishes someone would come in and save him from this demon stripper, he thinks he's doomed. No, he knows he's doomed, as the guy stoops down, reaching towards him, he's dead, he's so dead-
He blinks his eyes open in time to see the guy picking up the boxes tumbled around Hinata on the floor, reaching up and stacking them neatly back in place.
Hinata watches, transfixed, unable to get his mouth to work while the guy does his job for him, sweater riding up and showing a sliver of skin Hinata is going to pretend he hasn't seen. And then the guy's turning to him, frowning.
“Are you a dumbass?”
Those are the first words Hinata has heard him speak. He straightens up, immediately, because demon or no, his integrity is on the line here, and he puffs his chest out. He's not a dumbass, just startled, he wants to say, but he can't say WHY he was startled, so he settles for turning his back and sulking while the customer slides his hands in his pocket and picks out whatever he's come here for.
It's almost over, Hinata tells himself as he rings him up, it's almost over, almost over-
“Hey.” There's the voice again, and Hinata tenses. He looks up, peeking, at the guy towering over the counter. “I kind of thought you died last night.”
Hinata's shoulders shoot up to his ears and he flushes. He'd thought for sure this guy wouldn't remember him, he has to see a ton of people every night, Hinata wants to dissolve into the floor and disappear.
But he's still talking. “Not surprising to see you're as clumsy outside of the club as you are in it.” He's absently counting change in his hand as he glances up. “You know, that's the first time I've ever caused someone to pass out.”
“It wasn't you!” Hinata raises his hands in defense. “I was surprised, I mean, I wasn't expecting to...to...” He feels his face get redder as he sticks his foot further in his mouth. He wants to go home, this day had been going so mediocre and now it's awful. He wants to never, ever encounter this guy ever again.
He snorts, and drops some change on the counter. “We can't all be shitty cashiers,” he says. “When I come here it's usually the short one...” He trails off, looking Hinata up and down. “Okay, the other short one.”
If there is one thing Hinata hates, besides black licorice and exams, it's being called short or small or anything pinpointing his limited height. This guy may be intimidating and strip for a living, but he's not going to let him get away with that. He glowers and slams his hand on the change on the counter.
“I am not short,” he snaps. “You're just freakishly tall.”
The guy is blinking at him, and then he snorts. “No, you're short. I mean, I guess I'm kind of tall, but I play volleyball, so-”
Hinata feels his righteous anger evaporate as soon as the word is out of this guy's mouth: volleyball. He'd thought that was just an outfit, like the girls with the cheerleader uniforms or the maid dresses, and the look on the guy's face lets him know he's just said this out loud. His face turns red and he stammers an apology.
But the guy doesn't look that offended. He shrugs. “I needed to make money somehow,” he says, “and my...coworker suggested it. It's not that bad.” The way he says “coworker” with a hint of annoyance in his eyes tells Hinata there's a little more to the story there, but he doesn't press it. He's too busy with his racing pulse. As he finishes ringing and slides the receipt, he blurts it out.
“Do you want to play sometime?”
He can tell he's surprised the guy. He's probably thinking something along the lines of “this kid plays volleyball?” and contemplating how to let him down easy, or maybe not so easy, if this conversation is anything to judge his personality by.
“Sure.”
It's not the answer Hinata is expecting at all, and he freezes. He honestly doesn't know what to say now, he'd been expecting a “no, asshole” and for this guy to waltz out of his life as quickly as he'd appeared, but he's just looking at him appraising. “What time are you off tomorrow?”
xxx
His name is Kageyama Tobio, and he is an asshole.
He's also surprisingly good at volleyball.
The athletic build he'd showed off at the club was just the tip of it; he has amazing instincts, reflexes, and technique. Hinata learns that he's played since high school, and they spend a few minutes chattering together about their respective teams. He does get a few “you're so short” shots off, but after Hinata stomps on his foot for the third time and they actually get to practicing, the situation is actually sort of amiable.
Their practices become strangely regular, every day Hinata gets off in the evening and Kageyama doesn't work he'll come to the convenience store, loitering around until Hinata's shift is up. He runs into Nishinoya, once, who titters behind his hand as the two leave, mentioning he didn't Hinata swung 'that way' and sending Kageyama chasing after him, knocking over two racks of chips before grabbing Hinata's arm and stalking out.
“What were you doing in a strip club, anyway?” Kageyama asks one day, when they're cooling off after practice.
Hinata had sort of been hoping that this would never come up; their first meeting is one he doesn't particularly care to remember. As soon as he mentions Tanaka and Nishinoya, Kageyama's snorting and his shoulders shake with a laugh. This isn't something Hinata sees often, but he's seen it more than he ever would have expected, and it does something warm to his chest to see Kageyama laugh. As long as it's not at his own expense, which it usually is.
While they're on the topic, though, there are some things Hinata's been dying to ask.
“Kageyama, um...why do you...you know.” He twists the towel in his hands. He can feel the red on his cheeks and curses his complexion.
Kageyama glances over at Hinata like he hadn't expected to talk about this, either. “Well...after high school, I didn't know what to do. I'm really only good at volleyball,” he says, grumbling, “But you can't really make a living off that unless you go pro. Which I want to, but I've gotta practice, and I also need a place to stay while I go to school, so...”
Hearing that Kageyama's in school is somehow surprising to him, since Hinata's only seen him in the context of a club and a volleyball court. Kageyama's cheeks flush and he elbows Hinata in the arm, hard. “Dumbass, you could at least pretend not to be surprised. I'm not stupid.”
Hinata laughs then, out loud, partly from the grumpy sulk on Kageyama's face and partly because of the fact that this guy is almost totally normal aside from stripping. Kageyama's fingers hook in his hair and he tugs, glaring, until Hinata shuts up with a whine. He's as merciless off the court as he is on it.
Kageyama leans back against his palms, stretching his long, slim legs out in front of him. “I don't have to do anything other than take my shirt off, and I get tips, so...” He's shrugging. “Plus, I get free food.” He side-eyes Hinata. “You could probably strip, but you'd have to dress like a girl,” and then Hinata's tackling him to the ground, sliding off the bench and bruising his elbows and knees when they tumble.
He goes home flushed and exhilarated, waving Kageyama off. He's been dropping Hinata off at his apartment, lately, saying it's too dark to let such a short guy off on his own, and even though Hinata fumes over that, he's secretly grateful for the company. It's not so much fun going home alone all the time.
Xxx
The first time Hinata picks Kageyama up at the club, he's overwhelmed. He'd sworn to himself never to come back, but it's his day off, and he really wants to practice today, so he's talked Kageyama into meeting him after work. He is supposed to wait outside a back door, where Kageyama's told him he'll exit.
He is a little curious, though, and he supposes that's what brings him inside again, among the loud music and the rowdy, drunk patrons. He hasn't seen Kageyama strip since that one time, and it's a little fuzzy through a haze of embarrassment and subsequent head injury. So he steps inside, shuffling into a booth by the corner, trying to stay as far away from everyone else as he possibly can while still in line with the stage.
He waits a good while, dipping his fingers in a glass of water, until something catches his eye and he glances back up.
Kageyama is good. He doesn't even say that grudgingly; the first time, he'd been too overcome with the idea of witnessing a male stripper to bother really paying attention to the way he absently sways his hips, looking kind of awkward and out of place but in a way that's somehow also really, really hot. Hinata tells himself he's thinking that objectively, it's okay to say your male friend is kind of hot when he is. He can see a few others thinking the same thing, trying to beckon Kageyama from the edge of the stage. He glances at them, dismissive, and Hinata's heart thumps.
It's when Kageyama's long fingers are creeping up his legs, slow and enticing and Hinata starts to wonder what would happen if he went even higher that he realizes he's gotta get out of here, his shirt feels too hot and his pants feel too tight and so he books it, relishing the cool air outside. He retreats to the door he's been told to wait by, petulant and confused.
There are a few other people out here, and Hinata can only assume they're waiting for someone, also. A few guys, most likely waiting for their girlfriends. Hinata wonders briefly if that's what he looks like, and flushes, because it's completely different here. He's waiting for his...what, friend? He supposes he'd call Kageyama a friend, kind of...
The door squeaks open, Hinata looks up, and there's Kageyama, looking a bit hot, a bit disheveled, and a lot breathless. He straightens up, smoothing out his jacket, and his eyes fall on Hinata.
“Hey,” he says, glancing away like he's trying to appear casual. “Let's go.”
Hinata grins and bounces on his heels as Kageyama walks over to him, and then he's noticing the looks he's getting from the other people loitering. He turns to look again, to ask them what's up, haven't you ever seen a guy stripper before, when Kageyama's hand clasps his shoulder and drags him away from the muffled club music.
He soon forgets it, working his muscles and running and jumping and high-fiving Kageyama when they get something just right.
Xxx
The both of them are planning to try out for the college volleyball team. That's how they end up going home together, to Kageyama's small apartment. It's sparsely furnished, and Hinata looks around wide-eyed, taking it all in. It's very...Kageyama.
They lounge around, watching a match on TV, and it's honestly kind of nice. Hinata only really hangs out with the guys from work, and they're fun and everything, but Kageyama's got this quiet intensity and can get just as worked up about an amazing play as Hinata does, and they end up staring breathlessly at each other before babbling over each other about how cool it was. Hinata's chest feels warm and full.
He stays the night, planning to go to club with Kageyama in the morning. There's only one bed and no futon; Kageyama explains, awkwardly, that he doesn't have guests. Hinata gapes at that; he doesn't bring girls home? Or...guys?
Kageyama glares. “I'm a stripper, not a prostitute,” he snaps, pinching Hinata's cheek. “I've never...”
Hinata stares for a minute. “Never what?”
He's shoved, suddenly, by the taller boy, who looks flustered. “You know what, dumbass!” The way the color sits high on his cheeks helps Hinata put two and two together, and then he's laughing, holding his stomach as it spills out.
“You've never even dated, have you?” And the look on Kageyama's face tells him he's right. Kageyama grumbles, sulking, and tells him that he doesn't have time for that sort of thing, and all the people he meets at his work are creeps. He's focusing on school and volleyball and not having his ass grabbed, he says. Hinata guesses he can relate, although without the ass grabbing.
They end up sharing Kageyama's bed, squished into the small space. Hinata's worried it will be awkward, but it's sort of nice; they stay up talking, facing each other. Kageyama's got some glitter on his cheek, and Hinata reaches up to wipe it off without thinking. Their legs are touching in the small space, and suddenly it's very warm, Kageyama's cheek is very soft, and they're both rolling over quickly, backs to each other.
Hinata stays awake long after he hears Kageyama's breathing even out, feeling the warmth of his back. When he wakes up, Kageyama's already making toast, telling him to get his ass ready before they miss tryouts.
Xxx
They make the team. Of course they do, Kageyama says, cocky, they're just that good. Well, he's that good, and Hinata's good by extention. Hinata huffs and punches him in the gut.
Hinata leaves work that evening, ready to meet Kageyama at his work; he's working late, and they're going to celebrate after since they both have the next day off. He's feeling excited, jittery; he's tried to smooth his hair down and dress his best, although he doesn't have a lot to work with.
He waits outside again, and it's only a little bit cold. There are a few others with him again, and he thinks about starting up a conversation, asking who they're waiting for, but they look kind of scary, so he keeps to himself. It shouldn't be much longer, and sure enough, Kageyama jogs out of the door. There's someone behind him, waving, calling out obnoxiously to stay safe and use protection. Hinata flushes.
Kageyama turns from flipping the other person off, and hikes his bag up on his shoulder. “Let's go,” he says, “I'm starving. I've been waiting all day to eat with you, so you'd better appreciate it.”
They turn to go, arms brushing, when there's a voice behind them. “Seriously?” it's saying, “Out of everyone you picked that shrimp?”
Hinata doesn't know what's going on, really, but his height is being insulted and he whirls around to face whoever it is. He raises his fists, challenging them to say it again, asshole, and immediately regrets it because this shady-looking guy is taller than he is. He slips behind Kageyama instead.
Kageyama's grimacing as he tells them to fuck off and bother someone else, but then there's a hand on his shoulder, a face up way too close to his, and Hinata gapes. Had these guys been waiting for Kageyama? He thinks that's a hand on Kageyama's butt. Hinata feels something in his stomach clench, he balls his hands into fists, and then it's connecting, right with the chin of whoever this creep is, and he's huffing and puffing and planting himself in front of Kageyama.
“Get lost!” he yells, and he doesn't know why this is making him so mad, but it is. “We're going out to eat, so-”
And then there's something hitting his cheek, below his eye, and he's staggering back against something warm and solid. Kageyama's swearing, and then the door flings itself open.
The guy in the doorway is tall, handsome, and downright awful-looking with that expression on his face. He's smoothing his hair back with one hand, waving at Kageyama to get out of here while he takes care of this, again, and that “Tobio” seriously owes him for taking care of the world's biggest cockblock. That's as much as Hinata notices before there's a hand around his wrist and he's being marched away.
They don't stop until they get to the restaurant, when Kageyama slumps onto a nearby bench and tugs Hinata down with him. There are hands against his cheeks, turning his face this way and that, and he sighs.
“You dumbass,” he says, and it hurts when his fingers press just there. “You have to just ignore guys like that.”
Hinata glowers, because he's not one to ignore assholes, and although it's gotten him into trouble in the past, he's gained more friends than lost them. He knows it's probably dumb, but sometimes he just can't help it, and seeing that guy touch Kageyama so familiarly still sends shocks of irritation down his spine.
Dinner is good. It's even better because he can feel Kageyama's leg brushing his under the table; he's oddly quiet, at first, but soon enough they're snickering, pressing the other to try the weirdest-sounding item on the menu.
They rock-paper-scissors for the bill, and Kageyama ends up paying. He drops Hinata off at his apartment, waving as Hinata ascends the stairs; something feels like it's missing, and he gets a pang of loneliness when he sees Kageyama turn away from him after shouting at him to put ice on that bruise, and then he's gone, off down the street.
Hinata sort of wishes he'd asked him to stay over.
Xxx
They practice together, every morning, and most evenings. Hinata stays the night at Kageyama's more frequently, and they wake up several times tangled together in an awkward heap. After the first time, it doesn't even phase him. As long as Kageyama doesn't mind, he doesn't, either.
Kageyama, surprisingly, doesn't mind a lot of things. He doesn't mind Hinata borrowing his clothes when he stays the night, he doesn't mind picking him up after work sometimes, he doesn't mind sitting close and bending over a textbook until their heads touch when they decide, for once, to study.
It's one of these nights, when they're trying to study, that things change.
Hinata is bored, he's begged and begged Kageyama to entertain him, to do something, he's the host, isn't he, stop being boring. Kageyama's flung the textbook to the floor, groaning, and then he stands up. Hinata's watching with interest, wondering what he's going to do.
That's when Kageyama's hands stray to the bottom of his shirt, slow and deliberate, and then he's shucking it up, just enough that Hinata can see the muscles of his stomach and a peek of his bellybutton.
They're both in pajamas, Kageyama in sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. It's in no way a sexy outfit, at all, but the way he's moving his arms, sliding the fabric further up his skin, has Hinata entranced. He knows he shouldn't be, that he should say something.
“Seriously?” Kageyama's hands still on his shirt. “You're actually watching this?”
Of course, he's joking, and Hinata's hands immediately fly to his face. God this is embarrassing, he'd been about to watch Kageyama strip in his room, and-
Kageyama's not laughing at him.
He chances a peek between his fingers. Kageyama's watching him, head cocked, expression unreadable. And then his hands start moving again, sliding his shirt higher up his abdomen, and Hinata needs to say something, to tell him good joke, Kageyama, but he can't. He can't move, until he spots a nipple and then his face is bright red and he's burying it in Kageyama's pillow, telling him to knock it off, okay, he'll study.
Kageyama's hands drop to his sides and he plops himself back down on the bed next to Hinata. The rest of the night passes like usual, but as he curls up on his side next to Kageyama, Hinata can't stop thinking about those glimpses of skin, of other things, of what might have happened if he hadn't told him to stop. Kageyama was joking, of course, he'd never do anything weirder than that, but...Hinata still can't help but wonder.
Xxx
Things stay relatively the same for months, until one day when Hinata decides to venture back into the club. It's too cold to wait outside tonight, and it's only 20 minutes until Kageyama's off, so he slips in. He's ushered to the side door; the other workers know him well enough to let him slip into the back room where all the sequined costumes are kept.
He waits for Kageyama for what feels like forever, but is probably 20 minutes on the dot, looking around at the bright colors and soft fabrics. He sort of wonders what it would be like to see Kageyama wearing something like this, and immediately shakes his head to clear his mind of that. This atmosphere is getting to him.
That's when it happens, waiting for Kageyama, hands in his pockets. The door opens and there he is, but something is wrong; he's staggering backwards, and there's a pair of hands on his collar, tugging him close, a pair of lips on his and oh my god, someone is making out with Kageyama.
Hinata jumps up, upending the chair he's been sitting on, and the two bodies freeze. Kageyama takes the chance to shove the other away, wiping his hand on the back of his mouth, looking shocked and horrified and embarrassed, which is basically exactly how Hinata is feeling. The other person, the tall man from before, is just grinning at him like the cat that's caught the canary.
“Fuck off, Oikawa,” Kageyama huffs out, and then there's a hand on Hinata's wrist and he's being dragged out of the room.
The air is cool on his hot face, and he really just wants to disappear. “I'm sorry, I didn't know you...um...they told me I could wait back there, so...” He tries to ignore the twisting in his stomach, the way he feels like he's going to puke.
Kageyama swears and runs a hand through his hair. He hasn't even bothered changing out of his costume, and he must be cold with shorts riding that high on his hips. “Look, he just...he does that sometimes, it's not-”
“It's okay if you're like that!” Hinata says, quickly, because he honestly doesn't care. His coworker, Sugawara, is gay, and he doesn't care, he really doesn't care, he feels like there's something warm running down his cheeks and he doesn't know why...
“I'm not...hey, are you crying?”
He's not crying, he's just embarrassed and upset and he doesn't know why, because it stands to reason Kageyama would be dating someone, but he feels like he's going to pass out. There's a hand on his arm and he glances up.
Kageyama has the worst look on his face.
“You total dumbass,” he's saying, voice sounding like he's trying not to laugh. Hinata bristles, ready to sock him in the face if he's going to say anything about this. “I'm not dating that guy.” His voice evens out, and then he's looking at his shoes. “Why do you give a shit, anyway, I-”
Hinata doesn't know what he's doing, why he's so upset, why he keeps seeing Kageyama's smooth flat stomach when he's lying awake at night or the way he looks after he's scored a point on the court or the way his voice sounds when he wakes up in the morning. He doesn't know why he's pushing Kageyama back against the wall, glowering, cheeks wet, or why he's standing on the tips of his toes and yanking Kageyama down to smash their lips together.
This is, honestly, Hinata's first kiss. It's his first kiss, it's with a guy, it tastes like miserable embarrassing tears, and it's over as quickly as it begins and he's staggering back, horrified. He doesn't even wait to see Kageyama's expression when he runs off.
He ends up back at his apartment, eventually, out of breath and upset and angry at himself for ruining everything over something dumb like seeing Kageyama get kissed.
Xxx
It kills him not to go to practice in the morning. He doesn't want to face, Kageyama, though, so he sulks around his room, eating soggy cereal and wallowing in misery. He doesn't work today, either, so he's holed up in his room, watching dramas on TV, when there's a knocking on his door.
He ignores it, at first, pulling his blanket up around his shoulders. It's insistent, though, getting louder and harsher and finally he sighs and gets up, shuffles to the door with his blanket still draped around him like a cape.
As soon as he opens the door, he closes it again. Or he tries to; there's a shoe stopping it from closing, and someone tall and angry barging his way in. It's the last person Hinata wants to see. Kageyama doesn't even know where he lives, this must be a dream, it's a nightmare-
He's slipping backwards, tripping over the blanket, but before his head hits the floor he's being yanked back up by his arm.
“I'm not letting you knock your dumbass self out before we talk.” Kageyama's grip is iron and his face is terrifying. “That shaved-head guy from your work gave me your address, so take it up with him tomorrow.”
Hinata's too stunned to do anything, allowing Kageyama to close the door and sit him down on his bed. He sinks to the floor in front of Hinata, glaring at him.
“So what the fuck was that last night?” he asks, after the silence stretches on long enough for him to realize Hinata's not going to talk. “And then you didn't even show up for practice, I thought you got kidnapped or murdered or something you dumb shit.”
“I'm sorry,” whines Hinata, burrowing into his blanket. “I did something stupid and I didn't want you to kill me.”
“Of course I'm going to kill you after you ran off like that without even letting me...ugh.” Kageyama runs a hand through his hair again, scowling. Hinata peeks out from his blanket cocoon.
Suddenly, he's being tugged forward, a strong grip on his upper arms, and this is the last thing he'd thought would happen today, Kageyama's warm and insistent lips on his. Hinata freezes but then he's kissing back, awkward, and their noses bump; it's not long, but it leaves him breathless. When they pull back, Kageyama's still glowering at him, but his cheeks are pink.
Hinata leaves his cocoon behind in favor of something else.
Xxx
He wants to say they take it slow, and they do, sort of. Things are the same as before, but they go out more now, to get ice cream, to fight over what movie to see. It's...honestly exactly like how it was before, but with kissing, sometimes.
And one other thing.
It happens that night, when they kiss again, after Kageyama pushes Hinata to the floor to press grumpy kisses to his mouth. He keeps muttering about what a dumbass Hinata is, how much he hates him (the kisses say otherwise), how he's so fucking dead if he does that again and he should have just said something, and he's being way too chatty so Hinata pulls him in, keeps their lips together. They're like that for a moment, moving slowly, when a tongue slips out to press along the seam of Hinata's mouth.
It's hesistant, like Kageyama's still asking if it's okay after all this, so Hinata just tugs on his hair a little too hard and opens his mouth like he's seen on the movies.
Compared to those movies, it's much, much better. Kageyama tastes like mints, like he's maybe been...preparing for this, or something, and Hinata tries to remind himself to make fun of him for that after this, but for now he's too busy shuddering as Kageyama licks into his mouth, breathing hot and heavy against him, hovering over Hinata sprawled out on the floor. This feels way too good, it's making Hinata's head swim, and he slides one of his hands underneath Kageyama's shirt.
He sees Kageyama flinch, and wonders if he's gone too far, before Kageyama is pressing into the touch and attacking his mouth with renewed energy. He bites at Hinata's lip and swallows the resulting groan before leaning back, licking his lips and staring down at Hinata with disheveled hair.
Hinata's hand is still on Kageyama's stomach, feeling the muscles jump as he moves it lower, watching Kageyma's lids lower like it feels good. Hinata bites his own lip, still slick with Kageyama's spit, and then dips his fingers below the waistband.
Kageyama gapes at him. He looks kind of funny like that, red lips and red cheeks and red ears, hair sticking up at odd angles where it's usually smooth, but all that Hinata can think about right now are the butterflies in his stomach and how warm Kageyama's skin is.
They're like that, for a minute, staring at each other, and then Kageyama nods, and Hinata slips his hand lower.
He adds the fact that Kageyama's already hard to the list of things he needs to make fun of him for later, but for now, just feeling this beneath his hand is enough to make him get harder as well. He'd been embarrassed about being hard just from kissing, but he's not the only one, apparently.
“Have you...done this before?” he asks, voice quiet, as he rubs his hand against Kageyama's warm skin. Kageyama groans and lowers his head to rest in the crook of Hinata's shoulder and breathes out a “no”. The breath against his skin makes Hinata shiver.
Suddenly Kageyama's head is snapping up and his hand is circling Hinata's wrist, yanking it back. Hinata's worried he's done something wrong until Kageyama's moving down and pressing their hips together and they groan in unison.
It's hot and hard, and much better than just using his hand. Hinata fumbles for Kageyama's face, grips it and brings their lips back together, clumsy. It's great, though, perfect.
“I think I really like you,” Hinata breathes against Kageyama's lips. Kageyama, in response, brings his hips down, rolling them into Hinata's. He feels ridiculous, but Hinata can't help his head slipping back and the moan that escapes from the back of his throat.
It doesn't take long for them to finish, Hinata's hips thrusting up against Kageyama's, hands scrabbling against his neck and probably leaving marks which he'll apologize for, later. Maybe. They lie there together, after, Kageyama's cheek pressed against the smooth floor, panting against Hinata's neck.
They end up ordering in, going at it again before the food gets there, Kageyama pressed back against Hinata's bed and exposing his neck in a way that has Hinata trembling.
They spend the night with each other most days, now. Hinata sometimes leaves hickeys where people can see it, pretending it was an accident but watching with satisfaction when he picks Kageyama up from work; Kageyama gets him back, later, sucking a mark on his collar before Hinata has to leave. It's stupid and ridiculous and it never fails to make Hinata's knees weak.
Sometimes Kageyama will give him a private show, and after nights like that, Hinata can barely bring himself to get out of bed in the morning, whining until Kageyama makes him burnt toast and threatens to kick his ass if he doesn't get up. He reminds Hinata about practice, and then he's shooting up, struggling to get dressed and yelling that they're going to be late.
It's disgusting and domestic and Tanaka and Nishinoya both remind him of this constantly, gagging whenever Kageyama shows up to flip them off and take Hinata home as they pretend to hide behind the counte.
Hinata guesses he should maybe thank them for making him go to that strip club.