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If there are two things Kageyama hates, it's cold weather and Oikawa. When his mother calls him downstairs, saying that a friend's there for him (sounding impressed, two whole friends who visit occasionally as opposed to Kageyama's usual none), he's not expecting to see Oikawa wearing two scarves and charming his mom.
Oikawa never, ever informs Kageyama he's dropping in, just shows up and expects to be accommodated. Despite telling his mother Oikawa's not a friend and to keep him out, she lets him in every single time, ruffling Kageyama's hair and telling him how proud she is that he's making such good friends while Oikawa looks on smugly. Kageyama has no choice but to grit his teeth and pretend he's not about to pop a blood vessel.
Today, though, Oikawa's busy insisting that he can't come in today, that he's just here to pick up Kageyama to go out, and as soon as Kageyama rounds the corner and hears that, he's about ready to run right back to his room. Outings with Oikawa spell trouble, always, and he thinks he might be able to get out of it if he sneaks back to his room and pretends he's sick, maybe. He doesn't want to be dragged out of the house, not when there's snow on the ground and he's already cold enough as it is.
He's about to duck out when Oikawa's eyes lock onto his and he shudders. That's it. Game over. He's going out.
Xxx
It's freezing. Oikawa looks fine, with two sweaters and a jacket. Kageyama, on the other hand, feels like death. He's sure he's going to die of hypothermia, or frostbite, or both, and he's going to cure Oikawa from beyond the grave and drag him to hell with him. He's muttering this into the scarf wrapped tight around his neck, smelling of Oikawa; he's insisted Kageyama take one of his, wrapping it too-tight around his neck with that weird smile plastered on his face.
“Where the hell are we going?” Kageyama grumbles, for the twentieth time, while Oikawa ignores him. At this point, he's really just asking out of tradition, because every time he gets dragged out, Oikawa refuses to answer until they're somewhere weird: the top of a bridge at dusk, half-soaked, the middle of the woods with leaves in their hair, the bottom of a hill Kageyama's just been shoved down.
Oikawa just saunters along, sparing the occasional chipper wave to whispering groups of girls they pass. Kageyama rolls his eyes, because this guy never changes. Even when they're out together, Oikawa insistently sitting a little too close, he's sparing the time to smile at cute girls, before turning to Kageyama to smile slyly and ask if he's jealous. The answer is no. Never. They can have him.
They don't, though. Oikawa spends his time harrassing Kageyama, calling his phone at 6 in the morning and not stopping until Kageyama finally answers, groaning into the reciever. He's heard “Tobio-chan” so many times in the past month that it doesn't feel that weird, anymore. When he answers, Oikawa just briefly recounts his team's latest win before hanging up and leaving Kageyama seething into his pillow. Oikawa may smile and flirt with any pretty woman who glances his way, but he chooses (insists, really) to spend his time with Kageyama. He never takes no for an answer.
The direction they're going today is familiar; they end up taking a train partway, Kageyama still not paying much attention as Oikawa insistently grips his mittened hand and shoves him down in one of the empty seats and looking incredibly self-satisfied like he's offered a place to a girlfriend. Kageyama glowers, tucks his chin further into his scarf, and ignores the curious glances.
When they arrive at Oikawa's house, it's past noon, and Kageyama can't feel his toes. For once, the sight of Oikawa's home is incredibly welcome, and he's picturing getting warm, finally.
“Tobio-chan, where are you going?” Oikawa yanks him back by the end of his scarf, and Kageyama coughs and sputters against it. Oikawa just grins and drags him off. The house is falling into the distance, and Kageyama can feel the promise of warmth being mercilessly ripped from his cold, numb fingers.
He finds himself being dragged through the small woods by Oikawa's house, stumbling through snowdrifts and ducking out of the way of branches Oikawa's kind enough to let swing at his face. This is really nothing unusual; Kageyama's found himself in worse situations, but the cold certainly isn't making his mood any better, and he's about to drop to the ground and pretend to be a dead weight when the scarf finally slackens around his neck and they come to a stop. Oikawa's hands are on his hips in some kind of weird power pose, and Kageyama has to peer around him to see what the hell they've trekked into the woods for.
It's a treehouse. It looks old, creaky, and Kageyama is thoroughly unimpressed. He'd been expecting something else, like maybe a dead body Oikawa's secretly hidden away somewhere behind his house. This, though; he looks back and forth from the tree to Oikawa, nose pink with the cold and breath sending puffs of steam into the air. The snow coating the roof makes it look even less stable.
“Nice joke,” Kageyama grunts, shifting on his feet to try and get warm. “This is the only time I'm going to ever say this, but let's hurry up and go to your house.”
The way Oikawa's looking at him, though, smiling innocently (as if), has his blood running nearly as cold as the air sneaking through the gap between his scarf and his neck. Kageyama's eyes narrow, and he's about to step back, to get out of the way of whatever the hell is coming.
He's a split second too late, because suddenly he's lying in the snow, feeling the cold slowly seep through the fabric of his pants and the back of his jacket, staring at frosted branches behind Oikawa's smirk. He's perched on top of Kageyama, grinding a handfull of snow into the top of his hair.
“You let your guard down, Tobio-chan,” he says, and Kageyama could kill him if he wasn't being pinned to the ground. He tosses his head violently, trying to get the snow out of his hair before it melts.
Oikawa leans down, down, until they're eye-to-eye, nose-to-nose, Kageyama glaring helplessly up at him. And then Oikawa's leaning in, and Kageyama thinks he's going to do It, the thing he seems to like using to get under Kageyama's skin, involving lips and, sometimes, tongues.
There's tongue, but all Oikawa does is lick the snow from Kageyama's cheek and then sit up, grinning like a fox before gracefully dismounting. Kageyama still feels dazed, and he thinks he's maybe actually dying of cold this time, when Oikawa yanks him up by his arm and starts dragging him towards the treehouse. Kageyama, shivering, allows himself to be pushed up the rickety ladder, doing his best to ignore the hands on his ass despite the flush heating up his skin rather nicely compared to the cold.
Kageyama huddles in the corner once he's safely inside, praying that the creaky floorboards support him and Oikawa, despite them being far too tall and probably far too heavy for this to be completely safe. The cold is making it hard for him to regain the body heat he's lost, and then Oikawa's body is taking up too much space as he crouches inside, across from Kageyama.
“I used to come here with Iwa-chan all the time,” he says, always chipper, seemingly unaffected by the cold. At least it's dry inside. “You look kind of like a turtle with your head all tucked into my scarf like that, Tobio-chan.”
The way he says “my scarf” sounds like he's making a point, marking something, and Kageyama pointedly ignores it. “No shit,” he says, doing his best to stop his teeth from chattering. “You dragged me out of the house, assaulted me in the snow, and now I'm here in this crappy treehouse, and-”
Suddenly, Oikawa is getting closer, and Kageyama is going to move back but there's really no room inside to move. He has no choice but to allow Oikawa to scoot up in front of him, curl his arms around Kageyama's hunched shoulders and press his head into his chest.
“There, there,” he says, and his breath is warm breathing against Kageyama's hair. “I'll share some of my body heat with you.”
Kageyama wants to protest that he doesn't WANT Oikawa's gross body heat, but it actually feels really nice. Oikawa's like a furnace, somehow, and Kageyama feels like he's greedily absorbing the heat radiating from his parka. He even allows his eyes to close, since it's not like Oikawa can see him in this position, anyway.
They end up curled against the wall together, Kageyama's legs underneath Oikawa's, keeping himself warm. Oikawa is babbling about falling out of the tree and breaking his arm, and when Kageyama points out that he probably cried, he almost, almost smiles at how petulant Oikawa says while he insists that he has never cried over something like that, ever. Almost.
“It's not a bad place to sit sometimes,” he comments, Kageyama's head pillowed on his shoulder (against his will, but it's warm, so he allows it). Kageyama snorts, imagining Oikawa crouched up here, knees against his chest. What an ass. “Nice to think, you know? And do...other things.”
Suddenly, there's warmth against Kageyama's skin; Oikawa's slipped his fingers out of his gloves, creeping his fingers over Kageyama's chilled skin, and it feels so good that he almost allows it, almost lets Oikawa suggestively nuzzle his neck.
He comes to his senses in time, though, shoving Oikawa back. “That's gross, holy shit, we're not doing 'other things' in your childhood tree fort!” He feels a flush creeping up his skin and tries to pretend it's just red from the cold.
Oikawa's suddenly too big in the small space, eyes sharp and tongue darting to the corner of his mouth. Kageyama finds himself pinned to the hard wood of the floor, although at least this time there's no snow to cool down his heating body. He'd wanted to be warm, sure, but this isn't what he'd had in mind. He tries to shove Oikawa off as he gazes down, loosens the scarf around Kageyama's neck, and then suddenly their lips are together and Kageyama forgets to resists, feeling Oikawa warm and solid on top of him, hands pinning his wrists to the floor and tongue licking at his lips.
“Get off, Oikawa” he pants, when Oikawa pulls away, teeth tugging at Kageyama's lower lip as he does so. His voice comes out distressingly less commanding than he'd hoped, too high in his throat. His whole body is too hot now, and he doesn't know if he's preferred the cold of the snow or this other thing, the thing Oikawa's doing to him with his hands sliding down Kageyama's sides underneath all his layers.
“Tobio-chan,” Oikawa leans in and grins against his neck, right below his ear. “You could call me by my first name somtime too, you know?”
“Like hell,” Kageyama spits, trying to sound resistant and failing, just a little. As soon as it's out of his mouth, though, there's a sudden pressure on his crotch, Oikawa massaging with his hand.
Kageyama tries to shove his hips up, to throw Oikawa off of him, but all his training has given him a considerable amount of muscle weight, and he easily ignores it to continue rubbing his hand against Kageyama. He tries to ignore it, bites his lip and glares for all he's worth like that will make the sensation less amazing, the warmth against the cold of his pants. It doesn't; if anything, it makes the way Oikawa looks down at him hotter, the sensation better, and he ends up closing his eyes and just going with it.
And then the pressure is gone. Kageyama's eyes fly open to see what weird thing Oikawa's up to, now, but he's just sitting there, slipping his gloves back on and looking like the most innocent boy in the world, like he hadn't just had his hand pressed up against Kageyama's crotch.
Oikawa gives him a look as Kageyama stares, smiling. “What, did you think we were going to do something dirty in my childhood fort?” he says, voice light and teasing, and Kageyama hates him so much he could...he could push him out of this stupid tree.
So he does.
Oikawa ends up at the bottom, staring up in shock. The height isn't that great, and Oikawa's perfectly fine, but as Kageyama clambers down himself he pointedly ignores Oikawa's pained whining like he's been hit by a bus.
Kageyama keeps ignoring him as he stomps through the trees, back towards Oikawa's house, Oikawa trailing along behind and muttering petulantly about how mean Tobio-chan is, pushing him out of a tree like a lovestruck schoolgirl. He bears with it until he reaches Oikawa's door, shoves him roughly against it, leaning up and smashing their lips together.
When he pulls back, he licks his lips for good measure, and it's worth it the way Oikawa stares at him, startled for once in his stupid life.
“We go inside, we get warm, and maybe I'll make up for pushing you out of that stupid tree,” Kageyama mutters under his breath, shoving his hands back into his pockets as Oikawa's face breaks into a smirk and he opens the door and ushers Kageyama in like an honored guest.
Kageyama doesn't really have any intention of making it up to him, at all, instead leeching off of his heat pressed together on the couch and drinking hot chocolate.
And if they end up getting a little warmer in Oikawa's room later that evening, it's certainly not because Kageyama regrets pushing him out of a treehouse. Not at all.