Work Text:
It was the summer of their third year. The team had spent a long day at the gym practicing, but Hinata and Kageyama stayed even after the sounds of footsteps had long since faded away, setting and spiking and receiving until they’d both toppled over. Now, they walked alone in the cool evening among the Miyagi breeze and faint sounds of crickets, contemplating the end of summer vacation.
“Shut up, Kageyama.”
His head snapped up, glaring at the redhead who’d just spoken. “I wasn’t even talking!”
Hinata stepped closer, flicking his forehead. “You’re thinking too loud.”
“Was not…”
That was a lie. He was still thinking about their practice match and his fingers itched for his volleyball journal. He’d already taken notes about spiking positions, but he hadn’t even considered—
“I said, shut up.” Hinata flicked him again. “You owe me a meat bun, remember? I told you Tsukishima would last the whole game without getting tired.”
Kageyama grumbled. Despite the fact they were third years, it was still surprising to him that Tiredshima’s stamina had improved so much.
“I don’t know how you even predicted that, dumbass.”
That wasn’t what he wanted to say.
He could never say what he wanted to say.
“...I’ll get you your stupid meat bun, stupid.”
Their joined steps halted in front of Coach Ukai’s store. Artificial warmth and the faint smell of lavender greeted them as they walked in, already bickering about something else. Ukai scolded them, going to get their meat buns that he technically wasn’t supposed to set aside for them, but did anyway.
In just a few minutes, he sent them back out with their food and a reminder to eat a proper meal when they got home. As they re-entered the street, they watched the moon follow their path, the cold in their hands aided by the steam of their quickly-disappearing snacks.
“Say, Kageyama…” Hinata paused in his steps, looking up at the sky. “We’ve known each other for a while, haven’t we? Since middle school.”
“...Yeah.” He often forgot about their middle school encounter because it was another version of him, another version of Hinata entirely. “What about it?”
“It’s just...we’ve come so far, you know?” And then he smiled in a way that was totally un-Hinata-like. It wasn’t toothy with a blinding radiance—no, it was a sad upturn of his lips. “It’s crazy, you and me…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
Finally, Hinata turned his hand into a fist and whirled around to face Kageyama. Time slowed. He would never have guessed what words would tumblr out of Hinata’s mouth.
“I am so happy I got to play volleyball with you.”
Kageyama wondered if he’d gotten shot. Something pierced his chest over his heart, leaving a weird sensation somewhere between pain and sweet tingling.
“I…” He could feel himself about to choke on something, not the meat bun, but found himself saying, “You idiot. We’re not done playing yet.”
There was barely a pause before Hinata laughed. “You’re right. We didn’t play our last high school game yet.”
As he lay in bed that night, Kageyama couldn’t stop thinking about that moment. How Hinata’s hair had swayed in the evening breeze—orange fluff that he’d stuck his fingers in so many times. It had started out of frustration, but now, he did it out of habit, ruffling Hinata’s hair after a well-scored spike, during every group huddle.
He extended his hand towards the ceiling, the spaces between his fingers empty.
What was he doing wrong?
He didn’t know, but it made his head hurt.
Buzz.
[Text from: Boke] ur still coming to the beach 2morrow right?!
Now his stomach was in knots. Probably because of Hinata’s obnoxious typing.
[Text - delivered] Yeah
[Text] Learn how too spell
[Text from: Boke] u cant spell either!!
[Text - delivered] Shut up
He’d forgotten about the beach. They trained hard nearly every day, but they were still on summer vacation. And Yachi insisted that they do something other than practice before going back to classes, which Captain Yamaguchi had wholeheartedly agreed with.
The next day was full: sleepy early morning bus rides where his head fell onto Hinata’s shoulder, cheeks warmed from jokes and the sun’s rays, cool ice cream dripping down sticky hands, and splashing each other in the ocean (which started out playful and turned into attempted murder, complete with a lecture from the lifeguard). But then Kageyama saw a little kid with a turnip haircut and was immediately reminded of Kindaichi.
Oh, right. They’d gone to the beach once, too—a team trip in middle school. To bond.
They’d buried Kunimi in the sand and dashed across the beach in races, only to be yelled at by their captain and share knowing looks as their heads bowed in apology. They’d hunted for crabs and seashells and at the end of the day looked for shapes in the clouds, tired from playing and laughing and fighting with the upperclassmen for a chance to play beach volleyball. The three of them had made bonds that day—bonds that Kageyama thought were unbreakable.
He’d been wrong.
When it came to the set of that one game, when the person he wanted so badly to cheer for him in the stands was gone from this world, when all he had was his skill and his teammates...When his team had abandoned him.
“Found you.” Hinata laughed, pulling on his arm. “What took you so long? Are you giving up because you know I’ll make a better sandcastle?”
He scoffed, remembering where he was. When he was. “Of course not, idiot. I was just thinking of all the ways I’m gonna kick your ass.”
After dragging Kageyama across the sand, Hinata realized that he’d forgotten their sandcastle-making supplies by their beach umbrella, and scampered off to get them.
“How annoying.” Kageyama clicked his tongue.
“You’re way too obvious.”
He looked up at that familiar monotone voice with the stupid, smug glasses to match.
“What?”
Tsukishima put a hand on his hip. “I thought you would’ve confessed by now. Or are you going to wait until graduation?”
“It’s none of your business.” He shouldn’t have said that. Why didn’t he deny it?
Tsukishima smiled, goading him. “I don’t get why you even like that ball of energy. Surely the king can do better?”
“You don’t know anything, moon face!”
Kageyama whirled around, hands already in fists. They had become good friends over the years, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t willing to fight Tsukishima when the occasion arose. “He’s everything.”
Kageyama wasn’t good with words. He was never descriptive enough, was never able to convey what he was feeling. So if he had to pick just one word to describe Hinata, it would be everything.
Hinata lifted him up, put him in his place, pushed him to do better. Made him crack a smile on dark evenings and groan in frustration under the gym’s brilliant lights. Gave him headaches and stomachaches and everything-aches but was still the only thing he wanted to think about before he went to sleep. Hinata was the one who put his head in the clouds with slips of skin between shirts and waistbands, who grounded him with that intense gaze at the end of a grueling match. Hinata was everything hot and cold, that he hated and—
Loved.
The realization hit him so hard that he lost his footing, stumbling back into the sand.
He hadn’t said any of that out loud but it was written on his face, and the most avid reader of the book known as Kageyama stood in front of him, his blush trying to match the shade of his red hair.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Tsukishima snickered.
Kageyama might not have heard what Hinata said if the wind hadn’t blown it toward his ears.
“I’m...everything?”
He wrapped his arms around himself, squeezing his elbows. “Yes.” He resisted the urge to tack on an insult, to act in his own defense.
“Like, your everything?”
This beach was too damn hot. Why was his face so warm when the sun was sinking?
“What else could I possibly mean, dumbass?”
“I don’t know!” Hinata threw up his hands. “You suck at saying what you mean.”
“Well, I mean it.” He turned around, ready to walk off and die in a hole. He would never hear the end of this—
“Kageyama—” Hinata grabbed his arm.
He was ready to interrupt, to say that he didn’t mean it and that this was stupid and god could you just forget about it Hinata—
But he couldn’t because his mouth had other plans. Or, Hinata’s mouth had other plans.
By the time he realized what was happening, his first kiss was over.
Hinata pulled back, eyes wide and mouth open like a flapping fish. “W-was that not what you meant?! I-I thought—”
He placed his hands on Hinata’s cheeks.
“God, Kageyama please don’t kill me—”
And stole a second kiss.
That shut him up real quick, which was nice on its own. What made it even nicer was the way Hinata melted into his palm. And why did his lips fit so perfectly against his? Soft, tasting like chocolate ice cream and sea salt.
Hinata pulled away with a smile. “So I was right.”
Kageyama stared at him blankly. A long moment passed, his mouth forming no words. Until: “I’m never talking to you again.”
“What?! Kageyama!”
He was already walking off in the other direction, movements stiff and embarrassed.
Hinata’s laugh rang behind him. “Hey! Wait up!”
He didn’t say what he meant. But it was okay, because Hinata knew.