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KY
Kindaichi didn’t know what to think of this situation—Hinata’s situation, really. The ginger squeezed his way into the training camp that he wasn’t invited to, and despite not receiving food, sleeping arrangements, nor offers for a bath, he still came back early every morning with a smile on his face.
At least, that was until yesterday. And Kindaichi swears he hasn’t been staring at the ginger or anything, God no! And of course, he isn’t worried! Why would he worry about that orange gremlin?! Especially one that’s still friends with that King!
It’s just… y’know, a lot easier to see him smiling than when he’s all blank and hollow like right now.
When he left the gym last night to head to the showers, he faintly heard a conversation between Hinata and his teammate—Tsukishima, if he recalls correctly. The blonde was clearly concerned, if the extra wrinkles on his forehead were any indication. He had the ginger huddled up with him in a corner of the gym, but their voices were still loud enough that the resonating echoes were fairly easy to hear.
“Have you been eating properly?” He remembers Tsukishima saying, though it was more like a nag than anything. Almost like when Iwaizumi-senpai catches one of them skipping lunch or their occasional mid-practice water break.
He didn’t get to see how Hinata reacted, but by the loud sigh the taller Karasuno player let out, it probably wasn’t a good reaction. Kunimi had wanted to get to the showers quickly since he really tried to go all out that day, so Kindaichi filtered out most of what he heard afterwards, their combined footsteps almost drowning out the two familiar voices.
But he still managed to hear part of what sounded like an offer from Tsukishima. Something that sounded like blah blah blah I can bring food blah blah blah you idiot. Not the most accurate transcription of their conversation, but accurate enough that it gets the point across. Just one teammate trying to take care of the other. Not really his business.
So why is it that he’s now standing in that same corner of the gym, bento box in hand?
He may or may not have texted his mom that Kunimi missed her cooking so that she would drive up to Shiratorizawa Academy and hand him a neatly packed bento box. Shhh, he was half telling the truth, which if you round it up means he was telling the full truth!
But back to his current predicament: he did tell Kunimi that the bento box was indeed meant for Hinata. His friend didn’t look surprised, which, he won’t lie, kind of offended him. What was he doing that made it so obvious that he was worr—thinking about the small ginger? Kunimi will tell him it was the longing gazes he gave Hinata and Kindaichi will respond by shoving him face first into the bleachers, pretty face be damned.
“Are you gonna give it to him or not?”
Fingers still fiddling with the neatly wrapped box, Kindaichi huffs, eyes looking everywhere but at the bouncing tangerine at the other side of the gym.
“Dude, chill, I will!”
Kindaichi looks to Kunimi, who seems equal parts amused and exasperated, which is fair considering he’s spent a good few minutes staring at the bento box he asked his mom for. It’s nothing hard, right?! He just has to walk up there, tap on Hinata’s shoulder, shove the lunch into his hands and leave. So why was he so hesitant? And why did his face feel so warm thinking about Hinata smiling at him, face full of joy and gratitude?
“Bro,” Kunimi tries again, this time elbowing Kindaichi in the ribs which results in an undignified yelp from the taller. “Just fucking give it to him already, I wanna go eat.”
“He’s in the middle of a conversation, I don’t wanna interrupt—”
“He’s been spiking volleyballs against the wall for the past ten minutes, what conversation have you been hearing?!”
Not wanting to admit that he was avoiding looking at Hinata for said past ten minutes, Kindaichi feigns innocence, eyes wide and hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he mutters,
“Well, he did say ‘Nice’ and ‘Wow’, so…”
“Okay, so you’re an idiot is what we’re getting at here.”
Rolling his eyes, Kunimi decides to take initiative and grab the bento box, only for Kindaichi to cradle it close to his chest, facial expression telling the tales of a non-existent war.
“Kindaichi—”
“I wanna give it to him!” he whines loudly, like the child he is, and Kunimi turns to look at the wall as if there were a camera there, his expression screaming do you see this shit. Because this was what he had to deal with already back at Aoba Johsai, where his senpai with both a superiority and inferiority complex struggled with basic human emotions. And while Kindaichi was his best friend, that didn’t give him the free pass to carry on with this shitty behavior.
So he sighs once, then again when he sees that Kindaichi is now sporting a childish pout.
“Then do it!”
“Okay, fine!”
Puffing out his chest, Kindaichi takes long, purposeful strides towards Hinata, who was still somehow energetic enough to keep spiking balls at the wall. His footsteps end up being just as loud as the spikes, which what the fuck, how and the ginger eventually realizes that someone is approaching him. And the moment he turns around, Kindaichi’s resolve immediately crumbles and he reverts back to being the shy, blushing teen from earlier.
“Kindaichi-san! Kunimi-san! Hello!” says Hinata, who smiles with all the energy needed to power all of the Oikawa family’s excessive Christmas decorations, effectively scaring Kindaichi (that’s what he says, but Kunimi’s gaydar does not lie).
“H-Hinata,” he greets back, clutching onto the bento box for dear life. Kunimi merely nods back in acknowledgement.
“Did you wanna do some spiking practice?! I can block for you!”
As if he knew his poor friend would become tongue-tied, Kunimi jabs at Kindaichi’s side before tilting his head towards his teammate.
“He actually has something to give you, so I’ll just make my way to the cafeteria now.”
Eyes wide, Kindaichi looks over at his bastard of a friend, who returns the gesture with a sly wink and peace sign. He’s definitely tattling on him when they get back to Aoba Johsai.
“Oi, Kuni—”
“Ooh, what did you need to give me? Is it a confession letter, please tell me it’s a confession letter—”
Stuck mid-curse, Kindaichi turns his gaze over to Hinata before slowly lowering the middle finger he had up in the air, straightening his posture for safe measure.
“I made you lunch—well, no, my mom made it, but I’m giving it to you,” Kindaichi finally says, cheeks the same color as Tendou’s hair. His hand still grips the top of the bow wrapped around the bento box, but he also shoves it into Hinata’s chest, waiting for the ginger to take ahold of it so he could let go.
When he doesn’t hear a response, he resorts to redirecting his eyes towards Hinata, which—bad move—because the ginger looks absolutely adorable with his sparkly eyes and lips parted in awe. It almost makes Kindaichi take a step back. The smaller leans into Kindaichi’s personal space, doe eyes glued onto Kindaichi’s and it makes his heart involuntarily do a thing. Fuck.
“R-really?! For me?”
Kindaichi’s hand burns when both of Hinata’s lift up to wrap around the bento box, small fingers partially wrapped around his hand. He resists the urge to just drop the thing and instead nods, averting his eyes and once again shoving the box into Hinata’s chest, hoping he’ll get the message and just take it!
“Just bring it back tomorrow, clean,” he mutters to the shorter, who nods vigorously at his words, “My mom is gonna come pick up the Tupperware at the end of lunch.”
“You got it!” Hinata beams, standing upright with one arm by his side and the other bent, hand held perpendicular to his forehead in a sloppy salute. “Thanks, Kindaichi! And Kindaichi’s mom! I’ll eat well and clean the box well!”
And with that, the ginger hops away with the box, taking away the burden from Kindaichi’s shoulders and returning the few years that nearly escaped from his lifespan. The Aoba Johsai player sighs as he watches Hinata bound over to Tsukishima, probably to show off his gifted bento box, waiting a few seconds for his heart to calm down until he turns to catch up to Kunimi.
Only to see said teammate hiding behind the open doors of the gym, phone held up, Suna Rintarou style.
Nevermind tattling to Iwaizumi-san, maybe he’ll just get a hitman instead.
(Kunimi also asks him why he refuses to wash the top of his left hand to which Kindaichi responds with an eloquent fuck off.)
--
HY
Despite Hinata’s small body, he has quite a bit of energy. At least that’s what Hyakuzawa has seen in the past two days or so of being at the training camp.
He’s just a ball boy, but he still performs his best, leaping as far as he needs to and lunging just as far so that the ball doesn’t escape past his fingers. It’s admirable. And though they’ve had this conversation before and Hyakuzawa’s been scolded for it, he still thinks that Hinata deserves his spot more than he does. He doesn’t think that belief will ever change, really.
Especially now, when he’s resting at the bleachers and Hinata is still bouncing around, picking up tasks left and right, never staying still. What is in the water at his house?
Morning practice goes by like that: with Hyakuzawa observing Hinata during his mini breaks and the ginger travelling around the gym more than the volleyballs do. His eyes feel tired just watching Hinata, so he can’t imagine what the ginger feels.
Or maybe he does, when he finally spots Hinata slumping down against the side wall in the middle of afternoon practice. He’d just finished hanging up the freshly washed jerseys and refilling the big jugs of electrolyte water, which he did right after picking up all the volleyballs and mopping the gym’s floor. This wasn’t really a new set of tasks—Hinata’s done these things before, in sequence and in segments, but maybe today was particularly tiring.
Hinata doesn’t get to sleep at the camp, nor does he get to eat or bathe. It’s possible that he’s only been getting a couple hours of sleep every night, or that he’s only eating snacks instead of full meals, or—
Hyakuzawa’s eyes hone in on Hinata’s, watching honey-gold eyes follow Goshiki’s hand lifting up a water bottle to his lips.
The taller looks around the room, trying to spot a vacant bottle in hopes that he would spot one that has Hinata’s name on it or one that was in Hinata’s poor bag that was tossed into the corner of the gym. But when his searching results in no findings, he glances down into his own hands.
Giving his water bottle a little shake, he’s glad to hear the sloshing of vitamin-filled water, his bottle a little over half-full. He glances back and forth to make sure the coaches were all occupied with something before he made his way over to the tired ginger.
“Hinata,” he calls, one hand outstretched towards said ginger, presenting his water bottle.
Said boy looks to his hand, then up towards his face, a confused expression slowly melting into one of realization, and he makes a move to sit up straighter.
“Ah, did you need me to refill your bottle?” He reaches out, “Here, lemme—”
“No,” Hyakuzawa responds, quick enough that it makes Hinata recoil out of confusion. His oblivious expression somehow makes Hyakuzawa flustered (so cute), but he does his best to stay grounded. “I thought you might want some water, you look tired.”
The smaller looks at the bottle as if it were his saving grace (it probably is) but snaps out of it momentarily to look around at the coaches, especially coach Washijo, that old menace.
“Are you sure I won’t get caught?” Hinata asks, craning his neck to look up at Hyakuzawa with the prettiest pout. The taller nearly chokes on his own saliva as he responds.
“Uh… do you want me to cover you while you drink?”
He receives a series of nods, which easily translate into yes please, omg, I don’t want to get strangled. Thus leading to Hyakuzawa sitting down where Hinata was, his broad frame easily hiding Hinata from any prying eyes around them. The ginger is curled up into a small ball right behind Hyakuzawa, pressed up between the warm back in front of him and the cool wall behind. He’s quick to drink the water Hyakuzawa offers, and he even lets out the cutest refreshed Ahhh right after.
“You done?” Hyakuzawa asks discreetly, hiding his moving lips underneath a balled up fist.
“Yeah,” Hinata responds, crawling out from behind the taller to reveal his bright, reenergized face.
Hyakuzawa has always been a pacifist, a believer in the whole talking-it-out thing. But having this smile pointed directly towards him, with the bright lights above, makes him realize that some things just need to be illegal or hidden. He would argue that with some things, he could just close his eyes and the thing would simply Cease To Exist. However, he has a hunch that that wouldn’t work on something as bright as Hinata’s smile.
Staring at Hinata’s lips, it takes him a good second to realize that he just shared a long indirect kiss with Hinata. And another good second to realize that Hinata’s lips were not moving because of his imagination, but because he was talking to him. Oops.
“—Ah, sorry, I drank all your water. Lemme go refill it for you, ‘kay?”
A drop of water makes its way from the corner of Hinata’s lips all the way down to the dip of his collarbone, effectively distracting Hyakuzawa from whatever it was the ginger was saying. But he still manages to give a half-assed nod in return, which sends the smaller out of his seat and out into the halls where they put the jugs of water.
One hand covering the lower half of his face (which he knows is gradually heating up), he mentally scratches out the idea of telling Hinata to bring his own water bottle.
He can just provide for him instead.
--
KK
One of Koganegawa’s favorite things about waking up early at training camp was that he could spend some time exploring the garden right outside the dorms and the gym. Him being unfamiliar with the area gives him that boost of explorative determination that he’s always had since he was just a wee lad.
There’s lots to see in the garden, despite how begrudgingly the students of the school tend to avoid it. There’s frogs, tall trees, lots of pretty flowers, Hinata, that one bush that looks like Kindaichi’s hair, Hinata, wait.
“Hinata?!” Koganegawa whisper-yells, his voice cracking at the sudden change in volume when he sees that the ginger is sleeping. Quite uncomfortably. Against the side of That One Bush.
Unsure of the situation but unwilling to let Hinata get a crick in his neck, Koganegawa jogs over to the smaller, crouching to place a hand on his shoulder and give it a gentle shake.
“Hinata,” he calls, still shaking, “Wake up, you shouldn’t sleep here!”
It takes a few more seconds of him shaking the sin out of Hinata for the ginger to finally stir awake, eyes blearily blinking open to take in the sight before him. And once he does, he jumps up frantically.
“Kogane-san?! Oh my God, did I miss practice?!”
“Dude, chill, it’s only 6 AM, you haven’t missed out on anything!” Hands on both of his shoulders now, Koganegawa holds up down. Or, well, he tries to. The ginger has a surprising amount of strength and will to do just about anything. But he does eventually settle down by himself upon hearing the other’s reassurance. “What were you doing out here so early anyways?”
Hinata opens and closes his mouth in perfect synchronization with most of the goldfish he has at home, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t. And thank goodness Koganegawa is just too oblivious for his own good, unable to find a reason to pressure the ginger to answer him.
It’s quite funny, really. One guy contemplates the shit out of a single question, face and lips contorting into the weirdest of shapes and the other has his mouth partially open and eyebrows tightly pinched together, nodding along to the silence of their conversation. Anyone would be concerned if they saw this, especially at 6 in the morning. Perhaps they’d think that the school’s security was having a hard time and some sketchy figures managed to weasel their way in here.
In the end, though, with enough patience, Hinata does end up responding, and it’s a lot more anticlimactic than Koganegawa expected (did he even expect anything?).
“I took a nap last night,” he says, and Koganegawa nods along.
“From 9 PM to 3 AM,” he continues and Koganegawa starts to feel confused because why is that considered a nap?
“And I woke up thinking that I was late, so I biked here as fast as I could,” the taller nods along, the imaginary equations floating around him gradually fading.
“I ran into this bush, fell over, and instead of trying to get to the gym or the dorm entrance, I fell asleep.”
Koganegawa’s squints, his expression reminiscent of someone pre-sneeze, and he nods a few more times as if that would make things make more sense to him. Y’know, like how Futakuchi-senpai preaches, fake it ‘til you make it.
“You’re good, though, right? No injuries?” Is what Koganegawa settles on asking, pulling away slightly from Hinata to get a better look at the rest of his body. Hinata nods, stretching his arms above his head before letting out a cute little yawn.
“I’m fine, but this Kindaichi-looking bush has a hole in it in the back now.”
Koganegawa checks, and sure enough, the Kindaichi bush is missing a few branches. Not super noticeable if you just close your eyes.
“Ah,” he says, intellectually. And eventually he adds, “Do you wanna nap some more? We have time.”
And with the most natural movements, he sits down, back against the tree and gestures for Hinata to come towards him.
“You can sit here,” he says happily, gesturing to the space between his legs. “I’ve seen Aone-senpai and Futakuchi-senpai sitting like this in the gym and it look’s comfortable! And I would offer for you to just lay your head on my lap, but then the rest of your body has to be on the ground and that kinda sounds nasty.”
“What?!” Hinata yelps, his brain lagging for a split second before he follows that up with an equally loud, “Oh, okay! Thanks, Kogane-san!”
So as ludicrous as everything seems, these two just happen to share a similar amount of braincells, meaning everything makes perfect sense. Somehow. Which leads Hinata to sit back-to-chest in Koganegawa’s lap, visibly pleased to be leaning against a warm surface as opposed to the prickly bush he was against just earlier. And with practiced motions, Koganegawa shrugs off his jacket, draping it across Hinata’s front and wrapping his arms around the ginger as some makeshift seatbelt for the flimsy piece of cloth.
“Wait, won’t you be cold?”
Hinata turns his head the tiniest bit to ask this, which gives Koganegawa VIP access to the beautiful sight that is the ginger’s thick lashes, golden eyes, and the faintest freckles splattered at the bridge of his nose. It makes his brain short-circuit, not that that’s anything new, but it leaves him looking a bit like a fool for the good minute he spends speechless. It takes a friendly nudge to the stomach from Hinata for him to shake out of his short malfunctioning.
“H-Huh?! No, I’ll be fine! Look!”
He gives Hinata a light squeeze, to which the ginger responds with the sweetest sounding squeal and giggle.
“I got you now, so I won’t be cold!”
The ginger looks less impressed once his giggling fit is over, and it takes a little bit longer to fully convince him that no, Kogane will not die because he handed over his jacket. But it ends up working out anyways, like the rest of whatever the fuck they had going on, and the two settle into a comfortable position. Hinata ends up swinging his legs over one of Koganegawa’s, sitting sideways in the space between his legs, his head rested on Koganegawa’s chest, right above where his heart would be. Kogane, in return, has his arms wrapped around the smaller, legs curling slightly around Hinata’s frame, and his cheek smooshed against soft, orange hair.
Not the most comfortable position. Unsurprisingly though, they make it work. And more unsurprisingly, they manage to fall asleep and stay asleep throughout the first quarter of morning practice, in which they’re startled awake by the sound of multiple shutter sounds going off at once, and they wake up in a pile of limbs and drool stains.
They’re both given the penalty of five extra laps around the school, and yet neither of them regret it.
(If Koganegawa goes around asking every single person in the gym for the photos, that’s his business.)
--
KA
“Nice work, all of you! Today’s practice seemed to hit harder for most of you, but as expected, you all got through it like champs,” coach Saito cheers, facial expression brighter than anyone else’s in the gym despite having had food poisoning not too long ago.
The clock hitting 8 PM marked the end of another long day of practice, and as usual, the coaches go through with congratulatory messages followed by critiques and encouragements to get rest for the next day. Kunimi, never having been one to listen to these speeches, zones the fuck out, only chiming in whenever he heard his peers give a loud ‘yes’ or ‘thank you, sir’. One person’s ‘thank you, sir’ echoes against the walls of the gym much louder than the rest of them combined, and he instinctively searches for said person.
Hinata Shouyou. Not surprising that he’s loud, but it is surprising that he still manages to wedge his way into the neat line of students despite being a ball boy. Actually, no, that’s not surprising either. He figures Hinata will always find a way to get involved, even at the expense of his teammate’s dignity.
“Now go bathe, eat, and rest up. We’ll see you all first thing in the morning tomorrow!”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Kunimi parrots along with his peers with the intensity of a potato, eyes still glued onto Hinata as everyone disperses with their respective friend groups.
He doesn’t really know if he has any good explanation as to why he’s so infatuated with the ginger. He’s different, sure, what with his bouncy demeanor and constant toothy grins regardless of his fatigue level. He’s also small, incredibly small, like, fun-sized. From this distance, if Kunimi lifts up his hand as if scooping up water, it would look like he’s able to scoop Hinata up, too. Oh yeah, the kid’s hair is straight up orange, that’s enough to catch anyone’s eye, right? Sure, the camp’s got kids with all different hair colours, but no one’s got orange—
“Hello? Hey, Kunimi, dude, you there?!”
“Huh,” Kunimi responds helpfully, finally blinking and turning his attention to Kindaichi, who had both hands up in the air, one holding a bottle of something and the other holding his phone. “What’s good?”
“ Can you give this to Hinata for me—no, stop looking at me like that—he helped us a lot today, and we didn’t really get a chance to thank him. I was gonna give it to him, but my mom’s calling, dude, just take this and give it to him!”
And with that, Kindaichi shoves the bottle into Kunimi’s hand—strawberry milk, a classic—and runs out of the gym with an undignified screech as he frantically tries to answer his phone before it sends his mom to voicemail.
Well.
Looking down into his hand, he plays with the bottle, turning it around in his fingers and scratching at the packaging before he eventually looks up to find the ginger in question. Not that hard of a task, if you ask him. Because, y’know, orange.
He starts walking towards Hinata, who was seated on the ground, facing away from Kunimi, small hands gathering all his belongings to ungracefully shove into the open bag. In this position, he’s got his neck craned down towards his bag, leaving the wide expanse of skin visible to Kunimi. Lightly flushed and with a thin layer of sweat glistening, it looks like it would be warm and soft to the touch. Kunimi almost wants to poke at it.
And then he looks at the bottle in his hand.
And then back to Hinata’s neck.
And with the snarkiest smirk, he holds the bottle by its cap, reaches his arm out, and touches Hinata’s neck with the cold, cold strawberry milk.
The poor boy yelps and leaps up into the air like a cat, also landing on all fours like a cat, head peering behind his shoulder to see who was behind him, and with what. The whole sight is amusing to say the least, and if anyone else in the gym is watching, he can just go and explain later that this was a social experiment to see how high Hinata could jump. But back to Hinata, the ginger’s got unshed tears in his eyes, lips pulled into a big pout.
“What was that for, Kunimi?!”
Hinata’s standing up now, balled up fists hitting Kunimi’s chest with 100 speed and 0 damage. The taller laughs at the gesture, now trying to balance the bottle atop Hinata’s head, though he has to constantly keep his hands hovering around it so it doesn’t fall.
“Hinata, are you really human? That jump looked too high to be real.”
“Huh?! Don’t tease me! I only jumped that high because you decided to touch the back of my neck with—with whatever it was you were holding!”
“Oh, you mean this?”
Grabbing ahold of the bottle, Kunimi lowers it until it’s right at eye-level with Hinata before uncapping it and handing it to him. He faintly registers that there are rules that no sugary drinks are allowed in the gym, but his hands moved before his brain did, so he’ll just suffer the consequences if he gets caught. Or better, he’ll blame Kindaichi.
“Here,” Kunimi says, pushing the bottle towards Hinata, who looks at him with caution. “What, I just came here to hand you this drink, do you want it or not? If you don’t, then I’ll—”
“Thanks for the drink!”
Hinata swipes at the drink before Kunimi could lift it up to his own lips, and downs half of it in one go. He looks so soft and happy by the time he finishes his long drink, which awakens something in Kunimi. Wait, no. No. He’s not Kindaichi.
Is what he tells himself as he reaches out to thumb at a drop of strawberry milk that makes its way down to Hinata’s jaw.
“Geez, no wonder Tsukishima has to look after you all the time, you klutz.”
“That’s not nice, Kunimi,” the ginger huffs, and with the way he tilts his head, it almost looks like he’s leaning into Kunimi’s touch. Not good for the taller’s heart.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
He squishes Hinata’s cheeks in one hand, watching in amusement as the ginger tries to flail around and break free from his grip.
“Let goooo,” Hinata whines, one hand trying (and failing) to wrap around his wrist. “I was just gonna say that I’ll treat you next time, but you’re being mean!”
Next time?
What does that mean?
Unwilling to let his heart go haywire, Kunimi looks at Hinata with an eyebrow raised, tone sarcastic as he asks,
“You asking me out on a date?”
And surprisingly, Hinata doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he goes slack in Kunimi’s hold, cheeks still adorably squished in between his fingers, and golden eyes looking up to meet cedar ones. It almost gets awkward enough for Kunimi to want to change the topic, but Hinata speaks up right before that point, eyes crinkled and grinning ear-to-ear.
“Sure, if you want it to be!”
And Kunimi freezes.
“I gotta go now, though, so just text me when you’re free next! Make sure it’s for an entire day, okay?!”
With that, Hinata lifts a hand to squeeze Kunimi’s cheeks in the same way the taller did to him before picking up his bag and skipping his way on out of the gym and to his bike.
If anyone sees Kunimi fall to the ground with a very unmanly squeak, he’ll… he’ll… aw, fuck, he has no good excuse for this.
--
GT
“Are you sure I can be here?”
Hinata’s shoulders are hunched and his gaze unsure as he steps into the open door to Goshiki’s dorm room. The Shiratorizawa first-year offered his dorm room to Hinata for the night, and Hinata, in a fit of energy and excitement, said yes before thinking of the possible repercussions the both of them could face. Goshiki, however, isn’t thinking about that at all, not with his bright, wobbly grin and sparkling eyes as he ushers Hinata into the room so he could close the door.
“Yeah, it’s fine, my roommates are both at home right now and Shiratorizawa doesn’t do random dorm room checks.”
The door closes with a soft click, and Goshiki goes to stand in the middle of the room, hands on his hips. He’s clearly proud of his room, even if it does look like any other dorm room (because he didn’t know what to bring for decoration. His mom had to stop him from bringing every photo album he found in his parents’ room). Head held high, he sends Hinata a proud smirk.
“So, what do you think?”
Hinata just barely manages to put his bag down when Goshiki asks. Still nervous, he minimally glances around before giving a nod, “It… it looks nice! Very neat, unlike my room!”
Bare minimum answer, but it’s understandable to an extent. The kid weaseled his way into this camp without permission already, so what would happen if someone found that he was also staying in one of the dorm rooms? Goshiki hates to admit it, but he’s pretty scared of the potential consequences, too. The last time he was caught doing something bad—well, it’s not really bad, but to coach Washijo, what can’t be considered bad—was when he fell asleep during morning practice his first week at Shiratorizawa. He had to do squats, arms crossed and hands up at his ears, for the rest of practice. He still shivers at the memory.
“Well,” the taller shakes off the bad thoughts, patting Hinata on the shoulder and gently nudging him towards his bed, “Why don’t you just lay down first? I’ll go get some snacks from the third-years!”
The ginger still looks reluctant, but the reassuring grin and thumbs up he gets from Goshiki seems to do enough, because he manages to sink into the soft mattress and bunch up the sheets around him. So Goshiki heads off to ask (read: beg) for snacks.
Which leaves Hinata alone in a room filled with Goshiki (his roommates’ stuff is there, too, but because Hinata doesn’t know them like that, they just kinda don’t exist). The room smells like Goshiki, like when Hinata accidentally collided into the taller’s back earlier as they were walking to the dorms. There are photos of little Goshiki and his family taped to the wall and the nearby nightstand, the wing spiker looking the exact same as he did before, just with both front teeth. There’s a small eagle plushie seated in the corner of the bed that Hinata initially grabs to get a better look at, but he eventually ends up hugging it to his chest anyways.
And he’s not sure what gets him to actually lay down on Goshiki’s bed. It could’ve been the fatigue from the past few days, or because he’s just happy that he doesn’t have to commute here tomorrow, or because the bed smells like a certain wing spiker—whatever the reason was, it gets Hinata to curl up into a small ball underneath the warm blanket, plushie still in his arms.
It’s comfortable, almost comfortable enough for Hinata to fall asleep had he not heard the door creak open. The ginger’s head shoots up and he gets ready to greet Goshiki when—
“Tsutomu?”
Ah shit.
Hinata curls right back into a ball, making sure the blanket completely covered his body (not a difficult task, really), heart starting to race once he finally registers that the person that just entered the room was not Goshiki, but Tendou.
“Hey, Tsutomu, I heard you wanted to borrow some manga for the night, so I came to bring them. Aren’t you gonna come out and greet me?”
The bed dips right next to where Hinata was curled up, and the ginger nearly lets out a squeak at the sudden movement. What does he do?! What can he do?! Oh God, he’s gonna get them in trouble, isn’t he?! Tendou continues speaking despite the lack of response from “Goshiki” underneath the sheets, making manga references that Hinata doesn’t understand and bringing up things in tomorrow’s schedule that Hinata didn’t know about.
“Tsutomu, are you alright? Why aren’t you responding? You’re looking awfully small under the sheets.”
Tendou’s hand lands on Hinata’s back, the warmth seeping through the blanket and onto Hinata’s already warm skin. This would all be comforting if it wasn’t for the fact that he might be put on running duty tomorrow if he’s caught in Goshiki’s room. He resorts to staying silent again, and instead, he nudges the eagle plushie past the blanket’s hem just enough so he could let a fingertip peek through and point to the plushie’s neck.
“What? You can’t speak? Are you feeling sick?”
Hinata shakes the plushie with two almost completely concealed fingers, trying to get across the message that he—no, Goshiki—wasn’t doing too well and could use some alone time.
“Why didn’t you say so earlier? C’mon outta there so senpai can take a look. If I can’t do anything about it, then I’m sure Shirabu or Semi can, but you have to get out of the blankets for us to do that.”
And with that, Hinata feels gentle hands grabbing at the hems of the blanket and he freaks out. He tries to snatch the blanket back, only small grunts and huffs leaving past his lips because if he were to speak, it’d be over. Tendou only sees this as a challenge to pull off the blanket faster, so he tugs again. And again. And slowly, the blanket escapes past Hinata’s grasp. A sliver of light peeks past where the blanket is lifted, and Hinata’s lips part to say something—
“Hinata, did you wait long—oh no.”
Tendou’s hand stops tugging, but that’s not entirely a good thing. Not with Goshiki in the room, looking at Tendou, who is looking at “Goshiki” under the sheets.
“Oh no indeed, Tsutomu.”
With their cover blown, Hinata loses the will to hide when Tendou pulls back the blanket to reveal the ginger curled up with the plushie once again snug against his chest. Hinata accidentally makes eye contact with Tendou, who snorts and tosses the blanket over the Karasuno first-year. Why is it that he didn’t look surprised that Hinata was here?!
“I didn’t know that you were having a rendezvous with little shrimpy over here. You two dating or something?”
Goshiki’s face is lit a bright red at the accusation, arms and spine straightening out in nervousness. The bag of chips in his hand suffers when his fingers curl into tight fists. He glances at the big blanketed lump on his bed before looking back at Tendou with a look of exasperation.
“No!” he yells, and then lowers his voice to a whisper to hiss, “Not… Not yet, at least.”
“So what’s shrimpy doing here? You know that you’ll both be punished if someone else catches you, right?”
“I-I know! I was… I was just helping him out because it’s cold out lately! He could get sick going home at this hour!”
Tendou raises a brow in surprise. A convincing argument? From Goshiki of all people? He never thought he’d see the day. Taking another look at his underclassmen’s nearly purple face, he heaves a sigh and decides to leave the teasing for another day. He lifts his hands up defensively and stands up from the bed, moving away from the bed gently enough to feel the little jerk from the Hinata lump behind him.
“Alright, alright. I’ll keep my mouth shut then, since our little one decided to do something good.”
Tendou walks over to ruffle Goshiki’s hair before he heads for the door.
“Just be careful not to be caught by Wakatoshi-kun, mm?”
And after receiving a jerky nod from Goshiki, Tendou takes his leave. The click as the door closes has never been so relieving before, and Goshiki sighs, feeling all the tension and stress leave his already tense and stressed body. Hinata peeks his head past the blanket as he hears Goshiki do this, whatever’s visible of his face is an irresistible shade of pink, which catches the other first-year off-guard. He starts to feel his own cheeks warm up, and out of desperation to not look obvious, he busies himself with the bag of chips he managed to snag from his upperclassmen.
“Goshiki?”
Said boy pauses at the soft call of his voice, hands frozen at their spots on opposite ends of the chip bag, just about ready to pop it open.
“Yes?”
“What did you mean by not yet?”
Goshiki’s hands jerk at the same time he chokes on his own saliva, creating the beautiful scenery of him coughing up his lungs amidst a tornado of chips. When he manages to come to, there are crumbs all over the floor and on him, and the chip bag is but a pathetic scrap of plastic, barely holding anything.
Even so, he needs something, anything to distract him from Hinata’s sweet, innocent gaze. So he lifts up the scrap anyways, hands shaky and voice even shakier.
“Um… ch-chips?”
(Hinata disregards Goshiki’s pre-symptoms of heart failure and snuggles him later that night. The poor boy isn’t able to catch a break between that and finding a basket of condoms in front of his room the morning after.
He promptly breaks down during morning practice and is tasked with squats until lunch.)