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Kageyama was on his way back from Japanese History when he felt the vibration of his mobile. He pulled it out from the pocket of his hoodie, thoughts of wondering who could be texting him at this late hour abruptly cutting off when the name Hinata flashed across the bright LED screen. It had been a long, long while since they last exchanged messages.
(Two years, three months and four days if one wanted to be exact but it wasn’t like Kageyama was keeping track. Not. At. All.)
Hinata’s short message consisted of only one word.
From: Shouyou
To: Me
help
The world reeled beneath his feet as his stomach lurched nauseatingly like the time he became bedridden with the flu, even breaking out in cold sweat. He vaguely recognized the terrible throb pounding in his ears as rising panic, an emotion he was accustomed to experiencing on the court but rarely felt outside it.
Even so, his mind was in a strange state of clarity and it registered a few points of interest. (1) It getting late. (2) The last trains may have left already. (3) Most importantly, Kageyama was already a block away from his apartment and the station was on the other side of town. It would take 45 minutes to get there walking and he knew buses stopped running an hour ago.
The click of his phone closing resonated loudly in the silence of the night as he turned and took off running in the opposite direction of his apartment, praying the same mantra over and over in his head.
Please make it in time.
xxx
Some forty-five minutes later, Kageyama slumped over and tried to catch his breath in the seat of a train bound for home. He checked his phone again, heart beating madly and heavily from his impromptu run (purely from the run, not from panicked concern because he wasn’t panicked or concerned, really), but there was still no answer from Hinata, even though Kageyama had texted him once or twice or a few dozen times already. He’d tried calling as well, to no avail; it went straight to voicemail, meaning the idiot’s phone was either turned off or out of batteries.
Kageyama tried to reassure himself neither reason was cause for worry.
It didn’t work very well. His mind insisted on conjuring up scenarios that became increasingly more ridiculous and unlikely. Hinata’s been hurt. Hinata’s been attacked. Hinata’s been kidnapped. Hinata’s dying somewhere-
With a shake of his head, Kageyama shut off his thoughts because they weren’t helping matters. The train ride was going to take him about four hours. Usually, he would catch a bus back home, and that took another half hour, depending on traffic. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option this late at night.
He sent a few more messages, whenever the fluctuating reception permitted him to do so, and tried to suppress the dread that kept threatening to overwhelm him when the eerie silence continued.
Kageyama told himself this was insane at least fifty times. He didn’t have the right to worry about the other boy anymore, not after cutting ties with him two years ago when he tried convinced them both it would be better in the long run. Even now, he could still hear the resounding echoes of the door to Hinata’s house closing with a final click, literally and metaphorically shutting him out.
Hinata hadn’t cried, or yelled at him, or done much to protest the break up. Throughout the whole painful exchange, his eyes remained glued purely on Kageyama, like the intensity of his stare could change the entire situation. He had asked, voice quiet for once, if Kageyama’s feelings for him had changed.
It hadn’t. Of course it fucking hadn’t, was what Kageyama wanted to tell him, but he gritted his teeth instead and lied, confirming yes, he was sorry but people change over time and he didn’t think it was fair to get held back by old affections, even as he choked on his own words
Kageyama ignored the disappointment that threatened to overwhelm him when Hinata simply accepted his words without question.
“We’re still friends, though?” Hinata asked instead, expression unreadable for once.
He’d confirmed, yeah, yeah they were still friends, they can still stay in touch if he wanted to, but the words sounded hollow to his ears. Hinata’s lip had quivered and his eyes were definitely moist and glittering, swirling with a pool of emotions. Confusion. Hurt. Betrayal.
Kageyama’s resolve nearly wavered then because he didn’t want to separate, it wasn’t fair but he was terrified at the same time, being absolutely convinced it would inevitably happen somewhere down the line. If that was going to be the case, he thought it’d be better to end their relationship before they got in even deeper. He prepared himself for the crying but instead, Hinata blinked and smiled and thanked him, for what Kageyama hadn’t been able to fathom, before making a hasty retreat into his house.
Two years, three months, and four days ago, Kageyama cried himself to sleep for the first time since middle school.
xxx
Several hours later, Kageyama found himself standing in front of an unfamiliar apartment complex. In his hand was his phone, opened to a map app inputted with an address he gotten from Asahi-san. His messages to other people had mostly been met with silence. Not surprising, considering the lateness of the hour.
He’d been knocking and ringing the doorbell for the past five minutes, adrenaline spiking to the point where he was tempted to just try and break the door down, property damage be damned. Asahi-san, the only one whom he managed to get replies from, told him he hadn’t gotten responses from Hinata either but he assumed the other boy was at home, considering it was a weekday.
He was just about ready to set his bag down and duke it out with the door when it finally, finally swungopened and a very sleepy-looking Hinata wearing a shirt two sizes too large for him stepped out, rubbing at a bleary eye while yawning. “W-who is...it?”
Kageyama did drop his bag then, as he rushed forward without a word to pull the other boy into an embrace.
Hinata made a very surprised yelp but his struggling wriggles just made Kageyama hold him tighter. He dimly registered Hinata’s onslaught of confused questions. “K-k-kageyama? W-w-what are you doing here? How’d you know I lived here? What’s going on?”
Kageyama knew he should probably stop trying to squeeze the life out of Hinata and take several steps away to explain the situation. Instead, he only takes half a step back and started running his hands down Hinata’s sides, checking for injuries or bruises or cuts, half-chiding, half-asking, “You freaking dumbass, are you okay? Hold still. Are you hurt? What the hell did you send that dying message for? Did something happen to you? Why haven’t you been answering your damn phone?”
“Huh? I’m fine? I’ve been home all night.” Hinata was staring at him, sleep rapidly fading from wide-eyes to be replaced with bafflement. “What are you even talking about? What message? Of course I’m fine! Why would I be hurt in the first place? More importantly, why are you here? And how’d you get here? It’s like, three-thirty in the morning.”
“More impor-” Kageyama’s thinning thread of calm snapped. “Is sending out random SOS messages your idea of a prank? In the middle of the night, I might add. Do you have any idea how worrie-”
“You haven’t been making any sense at all!” Hinata snapped back. “What message? I haven’t send any texts ‘cuz my phone-”
“I’m talking about this.” Kageyama pulled out his phone and shoved the text he’d received hours ago in front of his face.
Hinata frowned, falling silent as he looked back and forth between Kageyama and his phone several times, seemingly more confounded than before. “This...wasn’t me…?”
“What do you mean-?”
“I mean, it’s sent from my phone, yeah, but I didn’t send it, since I don’t have my phone with me.” Kageyama blinked, mind feeling extremely slow and sluggish because that sentence didn’t make sense to him. How could Hinata send him a message if Hinata wasn’t in possession of his phone? “Noya-san had get-together day before yesterday and I forgot it at his place. I haven’t had time to get it back. Nobody really contacts me anyway. So…” Hinata shrugged, one hand rubbing the back of his neck while looking strangely sheepish and apologetic.
It took several minutes before Kageyama’s mind finally began sorting through the information and started to put all the pieces together. Once he more or less figured it out, the large quantity of adrenaline he’d built up over the past several hours rushed out at once and he was overcome with the urge to punch holes in the wall. He went with the next best thing and banged his head against Hinata’s doorway instead.
Respected upperclassmen or not, the next time they met, Kageyama was sending Noya-san to hell in the most painful way possible because if this was his idea of a prank it was not funny.
“K-kageyama-san? You have the murderous mad axeman look on your face…” Hinata’s voice brought him back to a reality he suddenly really did not want to face. He tried hard to turn his thoughts away from how he’d just trekked some hundred miles at two in the fucking morning because he thought some vague bad happened to Hinata.
“Just...just give me a moment to recover,” Kageyama muttered, forehead pressed against his arm. He felt a tug on his sleeve that went even further to where his heart was because when he looked down, it was to see Hinata, Hinata with pink dusting his cheeks and how was it Kageyama still found the sight absolutely adorable and endearing-
“Recover inside? I mean, it’s late and kinda cold here and you want to sit down? I have tea or coffee if you want?” Some small part (the rational part that he should probably be listening to) of Kageyama told him to apologize and politely decline even though he had nowhere to go for the night.
The rest of him (the part that always had him discreetly asking Suga-san how Hinata was doing when the older setter checked in to make sure Kageyama was alive and well) told that part to fuck off as it unanimously chose to ignore the sound advice.
Kageyama nodded tiredly, suddenly feeling the exhaustion seep into each part of his limbs. It was the feeling he usually got after a grueling match against an unusually tough opponent. “Tea sounds...good.”
He followed Hinata in and froze with shock as he was hit with an unbelievable amount of nostalgia. It didn’t make sense, considering this was the first time he’d visited Hinata’s place. Heck, he didn’t even know Hinata was living on his own until two minutes ago. It was probably a recent development, considering he just had a talk with Suga-san a month before and the older boy hadn’t mentioned anything about this.
Hinata offered him a chair and Kageyama sank into it gratefully, trying to ignore how the small smile he caught at the edge of his vision made butterflies erupt in his navel region. He laid his head on the table as another wave of nostalgia washed over him, making him wish the earth could swallow him up because coming in here was turning out to be a very, very bad idea and he was just realizing why.
The place reeked of Hinata.
Then he mentally smacked himself, because of course it did, Hinata lived here. Hinata lived here...on his own? He can’t recall Suga-san telling him Hinata had a roommate but he also couldn’t say for sure Suga-san straight out saying Hinata lived alone. Kageyama glanced around, but as far as he could tell, there were no indications of another person and the shoes he remembered seeing as he stepped in were all Hinata-sized.
He stubbornly veered his thoughts away from potential visitors Hinata might have because that was none of his business, he doesn’t even care, why did he care so much, and he really hated Noya-san.
The sound of boiling water emanated from the kitchen and a few minutes later, Hinata came out with two mugs of hot tea. Kageyama swallowed as his mind instantly zero-ed in on how one side of Hinata’s shirt was slipping off his shoulder and why the hell did he own such a large shirt?
He gets unreasonably irritated when the unwanted notion that the shirt might not even be Hinata’s slips into his mind as his memory (un)helpfully supplements the bit of information about Suga-san mentioning at some point that Hinata seemed to be getting close to this one guy and Kageyama now feels several stabs of regret about making up the excuse that he needed to cut their meeting short that day for one lie or the other.
“I only have black tea.” Hinata pushed one mug towards him, breaking his train of thoughts and settles into a chair with the other one.
“Thanks.” Kageyama brought it close and blew the surface, concentrating to speed the cooling process, not because Hinata’s exposed clavicle very distracting as the sight caused all sorts of memories to resurface.
Sleepovers at his house. Whispers in the dark. Uncertain movements creating sparks whenever fingers accidentally-on-purpose brushed skin. Warmth billowing from bodies pressed far too close on a single bed, guest futon forgotten on the floor.
Kageyama was brought back to the present as he unconsciously sipped the tea and nearly burned his tongue off. He blinked, trying to get his bearing as he glanced up and felt something, probably his heart, lodge in his throat. Hinata was curled in the chair across, knees tucked up to his chest and inside the shirt, which now that Kageyama could see it better was looking oddly familiar-
“Is that my shirt?” Kageyama asked without thinking it through.
Hinata stared with unfocused eyes like he wasn’t sure what Kageyama was talking about, then he looked down and he visibly panicked, expression switching to that of a trapped hamster’s, if trapped hamsters were capable of turning that shade of red. It was unfairly cute. “I- this- not- I mean, it’s...comfy.”
He didn’t deny the shirt was Kageyama’s (it was definitely Kageyama’s, he clearly remembers not caring much for that particular article of clothing until the day Hinata stayed the night at his place for the first time and needed something to sleep in, after which he always made sure to give Hinata the largest shirts he had) and that made his chest unclench like it was releasing some pent-up tension Kageyama hadn’t even realized he had.
A very weird silence descended and Kageyama honestly didn’t know whether it was better to leave it be or break it. Really, what was he supposed to do in this situation now?
“I. Um. Should go.” Kageyama finished his tea far too quickly.
“Go where? Do you have a place to stay?” Hinata looked alarmed.
“Um. My parents…?”
Hinata fixed him with a steely look that told him he was being stupid. “Kageyama, your house is like a two hour drive from here.” Kageyama figured he already ran a couple of marathons that night, what does another one matter. He was about to say so but Hinata wasn’t finished, his next words coming out in a rush. “You can stay here. I don’t mind. I mean, I wasn’t going to kick you out, you know. The weather’s getting cold and it’s late and you’re probably tired and I have extra blankets so...so...?”
He was warm from the tea, Kageyama told himself very insistently and convincingly, feeling the heat creeping up the back of his neck, and not because Hinata’s face was lighting up as he agreed and shit, when did he do that, why was he nodding his head?
“Great! I’ll go find the extra futon.” Hinata smiled as he stood up, looking far too pleased with the turn of events and Kageyama’s throat dried as his thoughts took a turn into dangerous territory because the way his shirt was falling over Hinata’s small form made it look like he wasn’t wearing anything else beneath. “Um, you want to shower first?”
Yes, shower would be wonderful if it could get him away from Hinata for a bit. Except it didn’t because this was Hinata’s place after all, so even in the restroom, his presence permeated the space, from the shampoo he used (it was still strawberries and mint) to the towels that smelled of him. It had the conflicting effect of both relaxing Kageyama while riling him up even more than before and he really wanted to punch Noya-san’s face now.
An image of the 159 centimeter tall former libero cackling madly came to mind and Kageyama wondered if this warranted a good enough reason to cut Noya-san out of his life for good.
As Kageyama came out, drying himself with Hinata-scented towels, he was surprised to find a fresh pile of clothes laid out for him. He eyed them suspiciously because he knew none of Hinata’s clothes could fit him, the other boy had grown a bit taller (it’d been two years, three months and four days after all) but definitely not enough to match Kageyama’s height.
“Hinata, where are my clothes?” It’d be gross to sleep in his old ones since they were covered in sweat from his run but at least he fit comfortably in them.
Hinata’s voice floated from somewhere down the hall, progressively increasing in volume as he got closer. “I threw them in the washer. I can get them dried by morn- why aren’t you wearing anything?” The last part came out like a scream as he covered his face with the blankets he was carrying but not before Kageyama saw the red staining his cheeks.
“I’m not going to fit in your clothes!” Kageyama retorted, fighting down his own blush as well as the stupid urge to cover himself up even though he had a towel on, damn it. They’d seen each other half-naked on multiple occasions already, it should not be any weirder, even after two years, three months and four days.
It felt incredibly weird and Hinata made it even worse with his embarrassing reactions.
“I- they’re- it- it’s fine!” Hinata stammered, voice muffled by the blankets. “J-just wear them, they’re large enough, trust me!”
More to get out of the predicament than anything else, Kageyama picked up the shirt dubiously but when he spread it out, it certainly did look large enough. He slipped it on, wondering if a part of Hinata’s wardrobe was just composed of oversized shirts. It also looked vaguely familiar. He pulled on the sweatpants as well, surprised to find it fit comfortably, though his ankles were exposed as it was short by several centimeters.
Hinata’s face was still glowing red as he led the way to his room. It wasn’t until Kageyama caught sight of himself in the window’s reflection that it finally clicked. “...Hinata, how many of my shirts do you have?”
Hinata paused in setting up the futon. “J-just the two.”
“...and a pair of sweatpants?” Kageyama tried to catch Hinata’s eye but the other boy was concentrating very hard on smoothing out the blanket without wrinkles.
“...that, too. And maybe a jacket. A-and possibly a few more T-shirts. Like seven. Or eight.” Hinata finally raised his head to glare at him accusingly. He looked like a vengeful hamster and Kageyama wanted to shoot something. Preferably himself. Or maybe Noya-san, seeing how he was the reason why Kageyama was in this situation in the first place. “Y-you left a drawer full of clothes at my place, what was I supposed to do?”
Throw them out. Donate them. Burn them. Kageyama wanted to tell him because he was feeling ridiculously and unreasonably elated at knowing Hinata kept all his clothes. His mind was racing as random pieces of information knitted themselves together, like Hinata probably went to sleep each night curled up in one of his old shirts and the image his mind (unhelpfully) conjured up kind of made him want to explode.
“You weren’t supposed to keep them.” Kageyama muttered, covering his face because fuck he should have just taken his chances on a park bench somewhere.
“I wasn’t going to get rid of them.” Quietly, he added in a rush like it meant Kageyama wouldn’t hear it, “And I didn’t like other people having them.” He lowered his hand to see Hinata blushing a tomato red and the thought I want to kiss him so bad involuntarily rose to mind before he forcefully squashed it out of existence.
“I-I’m going to sleep. Need to wake up and get back. Class in the morning.” It was just after three according to the digital clock next to Hinata’s bedside and he internally groaned at the thought of waking up in just a few hours to catch the earliest train back, never mind his first class was at 12 and he could technically sleep in for a bit because his first instinct had been right, staying the night here was the worst decision he’d made in a long time. “Night.”
Hinata crawled into his own bed without a word as Kageyama settled into the futon (also smelled very much like Hinata, not helping him calm down). A long while passed, it could have been ten minutes to a couple of hours, but Kageyama could tell from the other boy’s breathing patterns that he still hadn’t fallen asleep yet.
Eventually, Kageyama slipped into the weird in-between deep sleep and awake, in which his mind was drowsy but he was still somehow still aware of things happening around him, namely the lifting of his blankets as the first birds began chirping their annoyingly cheery songs outside. He almost shivered at the blast of cold air hitting his exposed feet but he made himself remain still and kept his breathing as even as possible. A moment later, something warm and familiar pressed up against his front.
Blearily, his eyes opened and his vision filled with the expected orange. He closed his eyes again, too tired to care about what this meant and simply leaned in, breathing a scent full of Hinata as he nuzzled the top of his head. His fingers splayed over the nape of his neck, and Hinata shivered against him as he played with the soft strands of his hair, thinking it was both unfair and unreasonable for them to still fit so perfectly together.
xxx
Kageyama woke slowly, wondering why his bed was so hard, why were his legs and back aching so much, why was he so warm. He tried to move his arm and to his alarm, he couldn’t, something heavy was pressed upon it. His eyes flew open and he was about to sit up by reflex when he was pushed right back down with a surprised “oof.”
“Mmm...five more...minutes…” For second, Kageyama’s haze-filled mind was utterly confused, he thought the world ended or something equally implausible because what the hell was Hinata doing in his bed?
Then the memories from last night crashed over him and his insides died a little. The text message. The run at an ungodly hour. The showing up at his ex’s doorstep whom he’d never actually really tried to get over and was currently cuddled up next him and sending his heart into a routine of weirdly familiar somersaults.
First things first. He did a few breathing exercises to stay calm. “Hinata. Hinata. Wake up.”
He shook the other boy gently but Hinata just scrunched up his eyebrows, puffed out his cheeks and swatted his hand away before scooting in closer if that was even possible. “No.”
Forget breathing exercises, Kageyama wanted to scream because who was he kidding, when had he ever been able to deal with a clingy, pouty Hinata with any calm or rational this early in the morning? He tried again. “You’re heavy, my arm is dying, I need to check the time and-”
“No.” Hinata’s eyes were still shut but he sounded anything but asleep. “Five minutes. Can we stay like this for a bit longer?”
No, we can’t. He wanted to list all the reasons why. “You realize the situation we’re in, right?”
“Yes, I’m aware, but you woke me up in the middle of the night, and I’m still sleepy, so the least you could do is leave me be peacefully. The sun is barely up.” His eyes finally opened and Kageyama wanted to throttle the little liar, he was certainly not still sleepy, he was most definitely very awake.
Instead, Kageyama found himself sighing resignedly, “Five minutes,” because honestly, he’d never really been able to refuse any request from Hinata (and it was comfortable not to mention heartachingly familiar to wake up like this, Hinata snuggled against him).
Hinata huffs a bit with contentment and after a bit of hesitation, Kageyama reaches his hand over to smooth down a lock of hair that was sticking up (it was bothering him, it wasn’t because he wanted an excuse to run his fingers through Hinata’s hair, not at all). He feels his face color as Hinata’s eyes close and his head tilts into Kageyama’s touch and suddenly, Kageyama is cupping the other boy’s face and they were so close their noses were almost touching-
“Hey, Kageyama, what did you mean when you said you were wor-?” Hinata’s breath ghosted across his lips and Kageyama’s last thought was fuck before he mashes their mouths together.
Hinata tensed and in a moment of panic, Kageyama thought he was going to get pushed away. So he breaks the kiss first, apologies ready to fly off his tongue only to have the promises of never doing that again die forgotten as Hinata presses his lips against Kageyama’s.
Pure shock keeps his limbs frozen as Hinata rolls him onto his back, never breaking contact. Hinata’s knees dig into his sides and the weight of the other boy on his stomach was more than a little uncomfortable but none of that mattered as all Kageyama could focus on was the feel of Hinata’s mouth moving eagerly against his own.
He gnaws at Kageyama’s lower lip with his mouth, already impatient for more. Kageyama has a very brief moment of clarity where he thinks fondly that it was always Hinata first before he readily complies to the other boy’s demands.
He elicits a series of soft moans as his tongue runs over Hinata’s now very wet lips.
Kageyama’s hands are trying to slip beneath Hinata’s stupidly large shirt and they wander dangerously low, where the fuck was the hem-
His fingers brush against Hinata’s outer thigh, making the other boy’s breath hitch with a gasp and Kageyama sat up so fast his spine nearly cracks as Hinata “uwaaah’s” loudly with surprise.
“Wha-?”
“Why. Aren’t. You. Wearing. Pants?” Kageyama growled, feeling his fingers twitch with each word.
To his credit, Hinata at least had the sense to flush a deeper shade of red. “I-it’s normal for me to sleep like this. Since it’s usually just me so it’s not like it mattered. And you showed up all of a sudden and I kinda just...forgot? Not like you haven’t seen me like this before.”
He shifts a bit and Kageyama gets acutely reminded that Hinata was practically straddling his lap with much less layers of clothing between them than he’d initially expected. He wonders if this was some sort of weird karmic punishment the universe decided to inflict upon him.
“You-” He looks away, trying to focus on something else in the room besides the boy in front of him because he can’t really gather his thoughts clearly when Hinata pouts at him with swollen, kissable lips and crimson-tinted cheeks. He catches sight of Hinata’s bare legs sticking out beneath the shirt was equally, if not more distracting.
“I…?” Hinata’s face fills his vision and somehow, Kageyama is twirling the orange locks in his finger, mussing up the already disheveled hair even more.
“Stop me if I do something you don’t like,” he half-pleaded, pressing their foreheads together, his body feeling far, far too warm the simple contact. A part of him (a very miniscule part) was hoping Hinata would come to his senses since he’d lost all of his already and push him away right then and there.
That part got flung to the farthest recesses of his mind when Hinata bounced forward, his head angled so their mouths meet. It briefly crosses Kageyama’s mind that they really ought to be talking about this (whatever this is) but it fizzles out of existence as Hinata’s soft moans knot his stomach into hot swirls as his tongue slips in. He can feel Hinata’s hands kneading the back of his shirt and the pressure was sending weird jolts, frazzling his nerves even more than before.
He is mindful enough to keep his hands clenched firmly around Hinata’s waist, even though he so, so wants to let them wander.
There’s a squeak and bruising jab on his leg before the world topples and he finds Hinata staring up at him with large orbs, his hair fanned messily against the futon. The room is silent save for their ragged breathing. He can feel the hammering of Hinata’s heart from where their bodies are pressed together, and the rapid thumps match his own. He’s not sure how long they stay like that; it could have been five minutes, it could have been hours.
“Make up your mind already.” The silence gets broken by Hinata glaring daggers at him, looking more than a little put out. “Do you want to kiss or not?”
“Are you an idiot?” He sees Hinata’s jaw clench, the first sign of actual annoyance but Kageyama can feel his own temper rising along with something else that is threatening to overwhelm him with a helpless desperation. “Why aren’t you stopping me?”
“Well, it’s not like I didn’t not like it, jackass. If you wanted to stop, why did you bother coming?” The harsh tone seems foreign coming from Hinata but the sting of his words is lessened by the sad look in his eyes. It took Kageyama a moment to work out the triple negatives.
“I didn’t want to stop in the first place.” Kageyama has the distinct feeling they’re not really talking about the spontaneous kissing anymore.
“Then why did you stop?”
“I was-” Kageyama’s words faltered. He’d never been one who was good with words and finding the rights ones during crucial moments when it actually mattered always left him tongue-tied and scrambling.
“When we decided to attend different universities, I thought...once there was distance between us, it would end badly.” He flashed on a half-remembered conversation with Suga-san making offhanded speculations about some guy or the other that Hinata kept talking about and he had to fight down a flare of jealousy as he forced himself to continue, “Someone else could replace me, it would be easy, especially if they were closer to you than me-”
The headbutt Hinata gives him is so hard and unexpected he nearly bites his tongue off. On reflex, he retaliates with an angry, “What the hell was that for, dumbass Hinata?”
“For being a stupid Kageyama, stupid,” Hinata has his face buried against his throat and Kageyama’s throat dries as several wet drops splatter on the bare skin. “That’s the most egocentric reason to break up with someone! What made you think it wouldn’t work? Didn’t you cross three prefectures in the middle of the night for me? Why the hell would I want anyone else? You stupid, jerk, asshole, dummy, idiot. Two years, two freaking years, you made me think you really didn’t like me anymore, I did something wrong or pissed you off or you just got tired of me or-”
Hinata’s tirade broke off into incoherence with a strangled noise like a dying hamster as Kageyama wrapped his arms around him tightly. “Sorry. Sorry.” Simply apologizing wasn’t enough but for now, it was all Kageyama was capable of doing. He noted with something like fond annoyance that Hinata was rubbing his face against the front of his shirt to dry his tears. “I’m sorry, I was wrong, I was scared, I was stupid. Please stop crying. You’ll clog your nose and forget to breath again.”
Hinata made a cute hiccup-cough that was meant to be a laugh but got it mixed up in the crying instead. “That was once. And also your fault.” Reluctantly it seemed, Hinata began to untangle himself away. Kageyama found himself missing the warmth and closeness immediately, even though Hinata only moved half an arm’s length away. “You need to leave soon, right?”
According to the digital clock by Hinata’s bedside, it was 6:04 (what the hell, he'd gotten maybe an hour's worth sleep, if at all) and he still had last minute homework to BS, now that he thought about it. Kageyama could not muster up enough care. Who needed Classic Literature anyway? “It’s fine.” He pulled Hinata back, tucking him beneath his chin and absentmindedly running his fingers through the wild mess of Hinata’s hair. “You were the one that wanted five more minutes.”
“It’s been more than five minutes,” Hinata retorted cheekily, even as his clutch on the front of Kageyama’s shirt tightens.
Kageyama can still sense rift formed from two years’ worth of forced pretends and unspoken hurts hovering between them, but it no longer felt like a chasm and he thinks, they’re not okay just yet, but they could maybe get back to more than okay.