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What is this, he thinks, winter-breeze sharp on his cheeks.
What is this.
Shouyou just keeps on humming to himself, do, re, mi, fa—, tip of his shoes scruffing against the ground as he takes two steps for each of Tobio's.
Back of Tobio's hand freezing, skin pulled taut by the cold, but his palm is warm, warm, so warm, molten ruby cupped inside where their skin's pressed together and he can't—
He tries to pull his hand free, to no avail, tiny fingers like prison-bars between his own, no, you.
Shouyou throws him a look, hums questioningly.
"This is—stupid. We should stop."
Cocking his head, Shouyou looks unconvinced. "How so? I think it's nice."
"Its... embarrassing."
"Really? Silly Kageyama, my sister does it all the time with me! Are you saying you're embarrassed by something that doesn't even embarrass an eight year old?"
That's exactly why I'm embarrassed, dumbass, he hides in his following huff, nails scraping against the back of Shouyou's hand, catching ice-prickles under the tips.
Shouyou laughs, starbells in his mouth, tinkling out without another thought like he doesn't care Tobio's right there, able to catch every last one.
He thinks of tugging his hand free again, but doesn't get past the fledgling-urge.
His fingers twitch. Shouyou doesn't notice. Or maybe he just doesn't care.
"Have you always been this sensitive to the cold?"
Shouyou throws him a look from the corner of his eye, gleefully swings their hands back and forth, two kids on their way to a grand adventure.
"Huh? Mhm, yeah! Only when I'm with you, though."
"What does that even mean."
Beautiful sunshine boy doesn't answer, just smiles at him in that way he sometimes does, like he thinks he knows something Tobio doesn't and is incredibly smug about it for the rest of the week.
Always makes Tobio want to hit him.
He doesn't.
Instead he finally tugs his hand free, fingertips gliding over the back of Shouyou's cold, cold, cold hand. Shouyou looks like he's gonna protest, lips quivering and eyes shiny (from the cold? Idiot, should have worn something warmer than a hoodie), but before he can do so, Tobio winds his fingers back around Shouyou's own, ensures a steadier and easier grip, this time. Then pushes their joined hands into the soft folds of his jacket pocket.
Sunbeams, he thinks. Shouyou has dimples and they're emitting a cluster of sunbeams like his tiny body can't contain all the light surging through him, and Tobio has to turn away, can't be the sole recipient of all that warmth because it will ruin him.
(His cheeks are hot, now, and he'll make Shouyou buy him milk for a month if he ends up with a fever because the dumbass kept him out for so long with his stupid shenanigans.)