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he’s cute. kageyama will give him that, at least. okay, maybe he’s super cute and maybe he’s exactly kageyama’s type, a type he didn’t even know he had before he saw the other male and thought, that’s my type.
he is not cute enough, however, that kageyama will be willing to give up on the last carton of milk.
he looks down at the shorter boy expectantly, full-on glaring. his hair is comically orange and kageyama feels a strange urge to comb his fingers through the orange strands and to flatten the slight curls. any other time kageyama might even let himself ogle at the fit and sturdy frame belonging to the other male, but no, right now, he is a man on a mission.
is he not going to let go of the carton yet?
they’ve been engaged in a silent staring contest for a minute now, possibly longer.
“i got it first,” kageyama remarks, pointedly looking at how his hand is underneath the other boy’s and covering most of the milk carton.
“no, i did,” the orange haired male replies. he wiggles his pinky that’s underneath kageyama’s thumb.
“i have more surface area.”
“you have bigger hands, that’s not fair.”
“life isn’t fair.”
“it would be if you’d just give up already,” the shorter boy challenges him.
“there’s nothing stopping me from shoving your face in the fridge and running away with the milk carton,” kageyama says slowly, more to himself than anything. should he just do it? what does he have to lose other than a sports scholarship and a spot on the volleyball team? damn it, he shouldn’t risk it.
the other boy growls at him, like bares his teeth and actually snarls. what the fuck. “my whole livelihood depends on this carton of milk. i will literally die without it.”
“then die,” kageyama snaps.
“over my dead body,” the other boy yells.
“that makes no sense, whatsoever.”
“ you make no sense,” he pauses for a bit, “whatsoever.”
“you’re literally just copying me,” kageyama would throw both his hands up if he wasn’t maintaining a death grip on the carton with one of his hands.
“ you’re literally just copying me ,” the guy has the audacity to mock him in an overly exaggerated high-pitched voice. “see, now that was copying.”
“you’re impossible,” kageyama groans. what is this. literally, what the hell even is this situation, two grown men fighting for milk in the dairy aisle. it’s not even a cool aisle, like the meat aisle. fighting over ham or bologna would be better than this.
“i am super possible.”
kageyama slaps his own forehead with his free hand.
“i cannot do this with you anymore.”
kageyama feels his grasp on the milk carton falter slightly. he doesn’t have time to waste tonight. he has to get a good night sleep for volleyball practice tomorrow. it’s going to be his very first volleyball practice and he has to be in tip-top shape to establish dominance over the other first years. the other boy made it sound like a life-or-death situation and kageyama is quite frankly, kinda flustered and slightly turned on. they’ve technically been holding hands for two minutes now.
he wouldn’t usually fight a stranger over something so little, but this was important . it was for hinata shoyo, the boy that lived next door to him in the residence hall.
he’s never seen him before, having missed the first hall meeting because he overslept that day. they were supposed to gather in the common room at 7am and do introductions, icebreakers, and whatever awkward activities that were planned by the RAs to force the first years to become friends with each other. that was a hard no for kageyama, who hadn’t bother to set an alarm for the meeting. if he wanted to socialize, he wouldn’t have paid extra to get a single room.
that morning though, he had woken up to a plate of cookies at his door when he was on his way to the communal bathroom. on the plate was a yellow sticky note with a scrawly handwriting on it, stating “i gave everyone cookies at the meeting, but you weren’t there! i hope you like them!!! -hinata shoyo.” there had been at least four hearts drawn on the sticky note.
kageyama had taken a quick scan at the doors in the hall, checking the name tag on each door. hinata shoyou, written in the same messy handwriting in orange marker, was on the name tag taped to the door to the left of his own room. kageyama didn’t have a name tag on his door, so he had assumed those were made at the hall meeting he just missed.
kageyama had bent down to pick up the plate of cookies and put them on his desk. he ate one and it was surprisingly good, crunchy on the outside but soft on the inside, and not too sweet. not wanting to owe anyone anything, he grabbed the first drink he found in his mini fridge. it was plain whole milk, packaged in a small cardboard box with a hole on top to poke a straw through. it was a popular brand, the only one he bothers to buy from. he had rummaged around his moving boxes, yet to be unpacked, to look for a sticky note. “thanks for the cookies- kageyama tobio” his note had read. he had slapped it on the milk carton and had stepped out into the hall, looking left and right to make sure no one else could bear witness to him passing notes like a middle school girl. he had put the milk down in front of hinata’s door, looking down at it with his hands on his hips, quite satisfied with himself.
that’s where things should’ve ended. however, when he had gotten back from classes that morning, he was greeted with a poorly cut out name tag on his door that wasn’t there before he had left. an asymmetrical rectangle had been cut out from notebook paper and his name was written on it messily with pen. all four sides had a border of uneven hearts drawn on as well. below it was a sticky note with handwriting he’s seen much too often today, “wahhh the drink you gave me was super good !! i made you a name tag !!”
thus began their daily transactions of milk, sticky notes, and small favors. after that kageyama had given the other male a milk carton as thanks for the name tag and in exchange had received a bag of candy hung on his doorknob. they went back and forth like that for the past week and kageyama had run out of milk cartons to give away. for the sake of his own financial stability, he should really stop this weird way of communicating he had with his next door hall mate, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t something he had begun to look forward to.
he’s grown fond of the messy scribbles written hastily onto sticky notes, started collecting them and sticking them onto the front cover of his notebook. it wasn’t a crush or anything, just a slight fondness toward this boy he knew nothing about except for the way he drew his hearts.
after running out of milk but not wanting to ignore the other boy’s bag of chips and note that was left at his door, he had no choice but to leave a lone note on hinata’s door, stating “sorry, i ran out of milk.”
he must be out of his mind, kageyama thinks, to have run here to the school store not even an hour after to stock up on milk. it doesn’t have to be the end of their exchange of sticky notes just yet if he could just have this milk carton, even if one carton would only guarantee one more day for him and hinata. but as fate would have it, here he is in a battle to the death with another student for the sole remaining milk carton of this particular brand.
the shorter boy appears to try a different approach when kageyama has a reinvigorated grip on the carton, remembering his purpose. “please let me have this. please, please, please, please-“
kageyama tunes out somewhere along the thirteenth please , and huffs. he lets go of the milk carton.
maybe it was time he started buying milk to drink for himself and to let the exchange of sticky notes and milk cartons die down. it’s not like kageyama actually owes hinata anything, and it’s not like they’re friends. they had plenty of chances to actually meet in person already, living next to each other and whatnot. if either of them actually wanted to be friends, they would’ve knocked on the other’s door and officially introduced themselves already. kageyama’s not going to do it because he’s kageyama, and if hinata’s not going to do it then so be it. kageyama’s not disappointed, nope, not at all. they’ll bump into each other one day and will awkwardly exchange greetings when it happens.
the orange haired male squeals and kageyama thinks, cute, before he can catch himself.
“thanks dude, i owe you my life,” he excitedly says and is halfway down the aisle before kageyama even has a chance to respond.
kageyama takes his time with buying snacks and picking out a different brand of milk. he stocks up on energy bars, knows that he’s gonna need lots of them for late night practices now that volleyball is starting tomorrow. he tells himself he’s not loitering here just because he doesn’t want to go back and see his door absent of any sticky notes.
he eventually walks back to his dorm, knows that he needs to give himself an hour to attempt to do his homework before getting ready for bed. he trudges down the hallway and out of habit, glances at hinata’s door. his sticky note isn’t there anymore, meaning hinata’s read it already and probably threw it away. he’s so lost in his thoughts it’s not until he’s kicked something over that he realizes there was something in front of his door. he puts his groceries down on the floor to pick up the familiar looking milk carton that was left at his door. on the back is a sticky note.
“sorry i depleted your milk supply!!”
kageyama smiles, despite himself.
the next morning, he drinks the milk that was given to him by hinata. it tastes sweet and creamy. the ones he buys for himself has never tasted like this before. he feels ready to take on the world, ready to dominate volleyball practice.
when he arrives at the gym, he sees a familiar flash of orange hair. small world , kageyama thinks.
they exchange looks of acknowledgment. kageyama almost feels embarrassed, having shown the snarky, unrefined side of himself yesterday, to a future teammate, nonetheless, but the shorter male is smiling widely at him. he looks even better today, short sleeved shirt revealing toned arms and his thick calves is a dead give away for his athleticism.
kageyama might’ve stared a bit longer, but the other boy is quickly approaching him, ducking underneath a volleyball net, volleyball tucked underneath one arm to the side of his hip.
“hey, it’s you! i didn’t know you play volleyball! well, i guess i don’t really know anything about you since we just met yesterday, huh?”
kageyama almost gets whiplash from the vastly different tone he was hearing from the boy. this was nothing like the person verbally harassing him yesterday, if whining and mocking could be considered harassment.
“i didn’t really expect you to play volleyball either,” kageyama shrugs. “since you’re so—“
the other male puffs his chest out indignantly. “what? since i’m so short?”
no, kageyama quickly thinks. since you’re so hot already i thought you couldn’t possibly be any hotter, but of course you play volleyball too so now you’re like a million times hotter. he’d rather not say any of that out loud, ears red from his own thoughts, so he quickly changes the subject. “let me guess, middle blocker?”
kageyama almost sighs from relief when the indignant look on the other’s face is quickly replaced with a wide grin. “how’d you know? people always assume i’m a libero!”
because your legs look like they were sculpted by the gods and—
their conversation is interrupted when a whistle is blown and the coach begins to bark orders. maybe it’s for the better. otherwise, kageyama’s inner dialogue would’ve found a way to spill into the conversation sooner or later.
during roll call, when all the first-years are lined up, and he’s sizing everyone up, he hears a very familiar name called.
“hinata shoyo!” the couch shouts.
kageyama’s eyes widen and he whips his head back and forth, looking up and down the line, wondering just who—
“here!” hinata raises his hand, leaning back and forth excitedly on the balls of his feet. his smile is bright and fits so incredibly right with his misshapen hearts, messy handwriting, and now kageyama can’t imagine anyone but the hinata in front of him as the hinata he’s been exchanging sticky notes and milk cartons with.
shit, shit, shit, kageyama thinks. he’s gonna have to start stocking up on more milk.