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The week had been nothing but long practices and aching, sore limbs for the MSBY Black Jackals.
It had been easy enough to fall into the routine of getting up, getting ready for morning practice, heading off to said practice, working long and hard for hours until Coach dismissed them, and heading back to their respective homes to get some rest to restart everything the next day.
Not that Hinata was complaining—he adored practice and just being able to play volleyball in general—but it was the weekend now, and the exhaustion that had pent up in his muscles reached his bones and, quite frankly, his stomach. Hinata knew to take care of himself, of course—even if he didn’t, he’d always get a quick text from Kageyama, yelling at him to take care of yourself, dumbass. Plus, he had a good roommate that would remind him to eat, anyway, although Sakusa would never admit to doing such a thing.
Blearily, Hinata looked up from his laptop where he had been watching a fifteen-minute long video of a cat rolling around in grass that Kuroo had sent him (which he didn’t really understand why, but he wasn’t complaining). He glanced at the clock, a small frown tugging at his generally upturned lips. It was nearing two in the morning, faint moonlight creeping through the blinds that were shifting over his window, moved by the fan in the corner of the room. His stomach was painfully empty, jabs of hunger stabbing at his sides. Hinata sighed and gently closed his laptop, rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
Adjusting his large, black hoodie (that actually isn’t his, he reminds himself, biting back a smile at the memory of Kageyama shoving it in his face because what? you always get cold at night, stupid. take it ), Hinata yawned and pushed his bedroom door open.
The apartment in which he and Sakusa live isn’t tiny, but it isn’t very large either. It suits both of them to their needs; it’s clean, for the most part, with a shelf full of pictures of their team and friends alike, along with a few books tossed on a varying range of surfaces in the living room. Hinata’s socked feet make little to no noise as he padded to their small kitchen, yawning once more and blinking tiredness out of his eyes.
The redhead expertly shuffled through the kitchen cabinets and the fridge, scouring for something to make quickly so he wouldn’t starve to death. He was being as quiet as he possibly could so Sakusa wouldn’t wake up and scold him for being up so late, even though it was a weekend and technically their two rest days. Shaking his head, Hinata continued his search, only to slump back against a wall once he realized there's nothing he can make himself.
Despite being an actual adult now—Hinata grimaced—he doesn't have that much expertise in cooking. Sakusa usually cooked for both of them, or they ordered out, or Hinata would go out with their teammates. He liked cooking, he just wasn’t very good at it.
And considering he nearly burnt rice last time he attempted to make something, he definitely knows not to bother trying again, especially in the middle of the night.
Hinata huffed to himself and glanced around the kitchen one last time before fishing his phone out of his pocket. He smiled at his lockscreen, a picture of his old Karasuno team from when he was a first year. He misses his teammates, especially his senpai, but he knows he has chances to visit them pretty often, so he doesn't complain about it.
Unlocking his phone, Hinata scrolled through his contacts before clicking on a familiar name. It rung once, twice, only three times until he heard a voice pick up on the line.
“Shoyo? You okay?” Atsumu’s voice crackled through the phone speaker, tired but not necessarily as if he had been woken up. So he had been awake as well, Hinata mused.
“Tsum-Tsum!” Hinata started, but immediately lowered his voice once he realizes he was being a bit too loud. “Hi, yeah, I’m just really hungry and you know I can’t cook and Omi-san is asleep and I don’t really know what to do,” he rambled off, quieter this time, sighing when he finishes. He picked at the drawstring of his hoodie, absentmindedly grasping it between his teeth and staring at the wall across from him as he waited for a response.
“Well, ya know you can always count on yer handsome neighbor to come help ya out.” Hinata knows Atsumu has a sly smile playing on his lips, and if the muffled shuffling in the background was of any help, he figured the blond was getting out of bed to come over. Hinata smiled at that, glad he has such a good friend, and neighbor.
“Thanks, Tsum-Tsum! I’m craving mac and cheese though, so bring a box.”
“Howddya know I had some?”
“It’s really easy to sneak around your kitchen, y’know.”
“Sly bastard..”
Only five minutes had passed between the end of their phone call and a soft knock on the front door of the apartment. Hinata slid across the smooth floors, skidding to a halt in front of the door and swinging it open. He beamed at Atsumu, who grinned back easily, sporting a ratty old t-shirt and practice shorts, holding a box of Kraft mac and cheese.
Hinata eagerly grabbed the box and motioned for Atsumu to come inside, minding his steps, trying to stay quiet.
“Thanks for coming,” he speaks quietly, returning to the kitchen. Atsumu nodded and hummed in content, already grabbing a pot and filling it up with water. “Sorry about the time, though. You were probably in bed all comfortable..” Hinata trailed off, biting his bottom lip guiltily. Atsumu shoots him a look.
“Nonsense, Shoyo. I’m happy to help ya, I wasn’t gonna sleep anytime soon, anyway. ‘Samu’s been textin’ me nonstop about some new recipes he wanted to try, so he’s blabberin’ about how I gotta test ‘em out sometime.” Atsumu rolled his eyes in fond exasperation, watching the water in the pot slowly come to a boil.
Hinata snorted a soft laugh and hoisted himself onto the counter across from Atsumu, his legs dangling off the edge and swinging back and forth. He tilted his head and rested his palms on the countertop, leaning back slightly, one foot coming to poke Atsumu’s thigh.
“Omi-Omi’s sleeping, ain’t he?” Atsumu then asked, nodding in the direction of Sakusa’s bedroom door. Hinata nods in confirmation.
“Don’t wanna wake him up. He gets so cranky,” Hinata informed him somberly, biting back a laugh. Atsumu nods, a serious expression on his face, a shudder running through his body. Hinata snorts again, pressing his hand to his mouth to muffle his laughter. The walls of the apartment aren’t exactly thick.
It’s nice, Hinata thinks, to be able to just be here with Atsumu. They’re great friends, energetic both on and off the court, often finding themselves fooling around with Bokuto just in tow. Sakusa always stands away, feigning exasperation, but there’s always a hint of amusement in those deep eyes that no one seems to miss. Hinata finds himself smiling as he stares at his socked toes, which continue to poke at Atsumu’s thigh. The latter only sends him a few glances as he continues to stir the now-cooked macaroni noodles.
He’s about to take it off of the stove when shuffling is heard from the short hallway from Sakusa’s bedroom to the kitchen, and both Hinata and Atsumu whirl around to face each other, eyes wide.
We’re gonna die, Hinata mouthed, his gaze snapping to the doorway of the kitchen when a familiar face pokes itself inside.
“What the hell,” Sakusa grumbled, voice thick with sleep, “are you two doing in here?”
Atsumu gawked for a moment before blinking and returning to the task at hand—the macaroni.
“Just helpin’ out a neighbor, Omi-Omi! No need to worry,” Atsumu speaks first, chuckling nervously and setting the pot back down, full of drained noodles. He reaches for the cheese packet, pouring it in first. “Get the milk and butter, would ya, Shoyo?”
Hinata glanced at Sakusa, smiling guiltily. “Sorry for waking you up, Omi-san. I was just really hungry but I didn’t wanna wake you up to make anything or order something which would have woken you up anyway and-“ he reaches for the fridge door, still sitting on the counter, and leans forward to grab the ingredients Atsumu needed, “-and we really were trying to be quiet but Tsum-Tsum is really funny and I couldn’t stop laughing and-“
“Hinata, it’s fine,” Sakusa interrupted, raising an eyebrow. He had a large hoodie on, just like Hinata, with his hood up and drawstrings pulled and tied. A few strands of curls poked out from under the fabric, framing Sakusa’s pale face, his two beauty marks in full display. Though his gaze was tired, his lips were just barely curled in an amused smile, and Hinata clamps his mouth shut at that.
Atsumu was dutifully mixing up the ingredients, uncharacteristically quiet. He listens, but doesn’t intervene, and only speaks when Hinata and Sakusa both turn their attention to him.
“Well,” he clasped his hands together. “Ya want some, Omi?”
Sakusa blinked once before looking back at Hinata.
“You know he’s a terrible cook, right? Like, no taste.” Hinata bit back a bark of laughter, looking up at Atsumu’s offended face.
“Oi! I’ll have you know that ‘Samu has taught me some cookin’!” Atsumu squawked, sniffing indignantly and reaching for the bowls in the cabinet. Sakusa only rolled his eyes in retaliation and glanced at the clock once before shrugging and stepping further into the kitchen. Hinata beams, slides off of the countertop, and helps Atsumu prepare the table.
“Thank you for the food!”
When Hinata wakes in the morning, dutifully heading to the kitchen to do the dishes, as it’s his turn to clean, he realizes that he doesn’t even mind that there are three extra bowls to wash.