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1
There is a plastic ring on Kageyama's shelf that he's had since he was 5 years old.
The memory has gone fuzzy with age, but he distinctly remembers a hot summer day, an icicle split in half, and a smile brighter than the summer sun directed right at him.
He remembers throwing the plastic ring in the grass several feet away from that smile.
He remembers the sun going out in a sudden burst of tears.
He remembers staying in the park with his grandpa looking for the ring until it got dark and cold, refusing to leave without it clutched between his tiny palms.
That’s the first time he ever rejected someone.
****
2
Kageyama is 13 when it happens for the second time. They're standing on the roof of his middle school; he's still sweaty from volleyball practice, hair plastered to his forehead and shirt sticking to his back.
There's a girl standing in front of him, looking up at him from her eyelashes and twirling a strand of long black hair anxiously.
His heart is still trying to beat out of his chest from running laps, head full of volleyball, when she pulls him aside outside the gym and leads him to "a more quiet spot so we can talk". Kageyama doesn't really get why they're talking in the first place, since he's never seen this girl in his life, but he doesn't want to be rude, so he lets himself be pulled toward the fire exit on the third floor.
For all she wanted to talk, she hasn't said anything to him since they climbed up here, so Kageyama mentally goes over volleyball practice, thinking about what he should improve for their next game.
He must lose some time because next thing he knows the girl is pulling on his sleeve and frowning, looking a little irritated.
"I said, do you want to go to the arcade with me and my friends this Saturday?" she says, in a way that tells Kageyama this is not the first time she's asked.
"Uh-" does he want to go to the arcade with nameless girl and her friends? The thought of spending an evening with strangers at a loud and sticky place immediately makes him recoil in horror.
Kageyama doesn't know what his face looks like right now, but his expression must be horrified enough for the girl to take a step back, startled, mouth open in a silent "o".
"Ah, haha" girl chuckles nervously "Forget it, I'm just asking everyone in our class, you probably don't like the arcade anyway."
His shoulders slump in relief for some reason. That makes sense.
She turns around, a slightly crazed smile still on her face, "right, see you then!" she says, before going through the emergency door, slamming it shut and leaving Kageyama in utter silence.
Weird.
****
3
He is 16 when he realizes people find him attractive.
He can feel the stares of his classmates following him as he comes back from volleyball practice. They're not stares full of resentment like the ones he's used to getting from competitors, but rather...heated and charged gazes.
They make him a little unconfortable, enough that he pulls his towel tight around his shoulders and heads straight for the bathroom, hoping to catch his breath for a second.
When he comes out of the bathroom, there is a group of girls waiting for him.
They're all huddled in a little circle, giggling and whispering to each other excitedly.
Kageyama's never been more scared in his life.
One of the girls suddenly spots him and yelps, the rest of them instantly honing in on him like sniper riffles.
Maybe if he doesn't move they won't notice him.
All of a sudden they all come to life. There are hands on his shoulder, his hair, his waist.
One of them pulls his collar back and Kageyama is so scandalized and embarrassed he physically cannot move.
"Tobio-kun! Who's the prettiest girl in school, isn't it Akane-chan?" One of them says, pointing towards a pretty black haired girl standing next to her.
"Akane is not that pretty, I'm prettier, right Kageyama-kun?" Says the one pulling on his collar.
"Tobio-kun likes smart girls, Mayumi."
He doesn't know how to respond. He has no particular opinion on Mayumi, Akane, or any of these girls so he doesn't say anything, silently projecting distress signals.
He's about to forcibly push them away when
"KageyAMAAAAAA!" comes a yell from at least 40 feet away, loud enough to startle the girls away from him.
"Kageyama stop flirting with girls, we're late for English, moron!"
He's too grateful to be offended so he just shrugs "apologetically" and runs after Hinata.
He has newfound respect for Hinata's fear of bathroom encounters.
****
4
The fourth time is nothing special.
He's been living in Italy for a few months; training and breathing volleball at a level that leaves even him winded everyday when he comes home.
He's 19 now, and after a few years of self-discovery, he can finally admit to himself that he's not attracted to girls at all.
It wasn't so much a distressing revelation, but an inconsequential one. He didn't have time for a relationship when society brainwashed him into thinking he liked girls, and he doesn't have time for one now that he knows he doesn't.
There's a ball boy that helps around the gym sometimes. He has nice dimples, bright green eyes and bouncy curls.
He stares at Kageyama when he thinks Kageyama can't see him.
But Kageyama is a setter. He sees everything, always.
The season comes and goes, and the ball boy never gathers enough confidence to approach him.
Good, Kageyama thinks. He hates rejecting people.
****
5
Kageyama is not drunk ok? Yes, he had a couple drinks more than usual and the first two buttons of his shirt seem to have gone missing somehwere in the past few hours. There's someone's back plastered all over his front, short blond hair tickling his nose. They're dancing.
He doesn't know why but the sight of the bright blonde hair makes nausea bubble up inside of him. He must be drunker than he thought.
He shakes himself and grabs onto the hips in front of him with more force than he intended, pulling them back onto his own. The person in front of him just moans and dips his head back onto Kageyma's shoulder, exposing a pale throat. His vision goes blurry for a second as the club lights flash red, so he latches his lips onto the sweaty skin in front of him, sucking mindlessly. He really is the perfect height like this. The club lights stay red and that's perfect too.
When they stumble into his apartment, Kageyama's shirt is hanging off one shoulder, unbottoned down to his middle. The guy is desperately trying to angle for a kiss but everything is off so Kageyama goes straight for his bedroom without doing any of the things he was told he should do during a hook-up.
The other guy is too drunk to care, blindly following along.
Kageyama feels around the wall until he bumps into the ambient lights hoshiumi got him for his birthday last year. He's never used them before because he finds them tacky, but right now he's filled with a relentless need to drown everything in sight with garish neon lights. He wants to be back at the club. He settles on 'apricot' right before the guy enters the bedroom.
Kageyama's eyes follow him all the way to the bed, assessing. He's a little thinner, not as pretty, his hair is a little longer. He feels a bitter laugh escape him. It'll do for tonight.
+++
He wakes up to a pounding headache and the smell of coffee.
It seems like the guy from yesterday made himself comfortable in his kitchen. They do that sometimes.
The way he's standing right now in front of the window, makes a halo of bright yellow shine all around him. The guy is only wearing a pair of black briefs and he's holding Kageyama's favorite cup between two hands. It makes him look away, fists clenching. It's all wrong.
Kageyama holds out a hand with a pair of brand new sweatpants and an american apparel hoodie. "You can keep these" he says, urging the guy to take them. "I'll have your clothes washed and delivered to your adress tomorrow."
The guy pauses mid sip, eyebrows lifting minutely.
"I have practice in 30 minutes so..." says Kageyama, walking back into his bedroom, not looking back once.
He hears nothing but silence for a few minutes, then a door opening and slamming shut.
He breathes a sigh of relief.
****
+1
Kageyama can't believe this is his life. A combination of sweat and tears trickle down his face, fast enough he can’t even tell the difference.
They just won the motherfucking olympics.
There’s a moment of empty silence where he can only hear the ringing inside his ears, before sound comes back slamming into him from all sides. The cheers of his teammates and the crowd. The presenters’ commentary through the speakers. The squeak of shoes against the court.
Everything is so loud, so loud, but Kageyama is searching for one sound alone. One pair of feet running at full speed towards him.
“KAGEYAMAAAAA!”
He feels the weight of Hinata even before he hears him, but Kageyama is ready to catch him. Has been ready to catch him for a while now.
Strong legs wrap around his waist, and his hands naturally settle beneath them, securing Hinata to his body.
He vaguely hears the shutter of hundreds of cameras clicking around them, but Hinata’s breath is so loud in his ear he pays them no mind at all.
When Hinata pulls back, there’s a strange determined look on his face. He keeps his face close, unapologetically ignoring Kageyama’s personal space.
“You’re coming to the after-party at Omi’s house.” He doesn’t phrase it like a question, and Kageyama is nodding before the sentence is over.
So there’s that.
+++
The party is a chaotic mess.
There’s a suspicious looking punch circulating the room. It has bits of fruit in it and tastes deceivingly sweet, which means it probably contains at least 4 different types of alcohol.
Kageyama watches Ushijima stand right in the middle of the room, holding a full glass of punch, doing his best to pretend like he’s not there. Hoshiumi is next to him, talking his ear off about taxes of all things.
Bokuto hasn’t stopped crying since the match ended, and is now on the phone with Akaashi, giving him a play-by-play of the match, even though Kageyama is sure Keiji hadn’t missed a second of the match. He’s also sure, Keiji is patiently and lovingly listening to the recount anyway.
The Miya twins are doing body shots on the dining table, competing for who has the longest line.
Osamu is winning, obviously.
Even though they’re in Sakusa’s place, Kageyama hasn’t seen him at all during the night. He wonders how they even got him to volunteer his house for this disaster.
At that moment, Hinata enters the kitchen holding two punch cups.
He extends one to Kageyama with a cheeky smile, “live a little, Kageyama.”
Kageyama takes a sip of the punch and his face screws up in a grimace. It’s disgustingly sweet.
Hinata laughs and gulps down half the cup in one go.
He’s still staring at Kageyama with that oddly intent look in his eyes. That look he has when he asks for one more toss; the same look he had 10 years ago when he promised to become better one day.
Hinata refills his drink and tilts his head towards the balcony, “ Wanna get some fresh air?” he asks, leaning on the counter. His shirt is slipping down his shoulder, a peek of collarbone showing underneath.
Kageyma swallows and nods.
Outside the air is crisp and cold, and it helps clear his head a little bit.
Hinata is leaning on the balcony rail, staring out at the city.
Kageyama is staring at Hinata.
“You know,” Hinata says, “I’ve thought about today for so long, I’m not sure how to feel now that it’s over.” He turns to him with a brittle smile. “Does it mean this is over?”
Hinata hays ‘this’ and gestures to the thing between them. The thing that shaped their lives and brought them here, to this balcony in Tokyo.
Kagyema snorts. “If you think I’m letting you go after waiting for so long you don’t know me at all, Shoyo.”
Hinata’s expression clears in a second, relief making his shoulders sag against the rail. “You should’ve said something earlier, Bakageyama.”
I wasn’t ready, Kageyama thinks. We weren’t ready.
There’s a sweet, lingering silence while Kageyama leans his body next to Hinata’s. Arms overlapped against each other, thighs touching, closer than they’ve been in years.
“I think I’ve been in love with you since I was 16,” Kageyama says, whispering his confession into Hinata’s hair.
Kageyama waits, calm, content, for Hinata to turn around and whisper his own right into his lips.
+++
They spend a few more minutes out in the balcony trading lazy kisses, heated kisses, kisses that hold a thousand promises, when they hear a loud cheer coming from inside the house.
Abruptly, the balcony door slides open, and they’re faced with the smirking faces of their friends and teammates. Ah yes, the glass door.
Atsumu has his phone pointing in their direction, wiping fake tears from his eyes.
Bokuto is wiping real tears from his eyes, muttering about how “they grow so fast”.
Ushijima gives him an unenthusiastic thumbs up; high praise from the stoic man, which makes Kageyama smile.
"Fucking finally," Hoshiumi says, appearing out of nowhere, with the air of someone who's been through hell and back several times. "If I had to watch you grind on one more Hinata lookalike I would literally shoot myself, Tobio. Literally."
Hinata chokes on his punch, while Kageyama blushes to the roots of his hair.
Hoshiumi turns to Hinata "I don't fucking know where he got them from either, who knew there were that many short ginger people in Europe? Not me, man. Not me."
He pats them both on the shoulder and heads for the kitchen, head bopping along to the music.
There's an awkward silence before Hinata chokes again, both hands flying to his face in order to hide it.
Kageyama can't believe he managed to ruin this 5 minutes after it happened. What if Hinata thinks he's some kind of slut, sleeping his way though Europe? There really weren't that many guys. Really.
He's made Hinata cry not even an hour into their relationship. That must be some kind of record.
His thoughts are spiraling out of control trying to come up with a way to explain himself when Hinata makes a disgusting noise and his hands fly away from his face, along with a mouthful of punch, and a peal of laughter.
Kageyama feels warm punch hit the side of his chin, his shirt, and some of it even lands inside his ear, somehow.
Hinata is on the floor, crying with laughter kneeling in a puddle of his own nasty punch.
"Yo-you- ahahhah, Kageyama!" Hinata manages, before dissolving into laughter again.
Well, at the every least this is much better than Hinata crying and breaking up with him.
Kageyama just stands there for what feels like hours, watching his…boyfriend? with a fond smile on his face. Hinata really is so pretty when he laughs.
Suddenly Hinata's gaze catches his, and the laughter stops abruptly, a sweet blush replacing it.
Hinata stands back up after composing himself and hooks his arms around Kageyama's neck, standing on tip toes, "I'm glad you didn't fall in love with any of those European ginger twinks, Kageyama." There's a hint of laughter still on his face, softened by the look on his eyes, and Tobio knows he's being teased.
"They weren't all ginger" is what he says, because 25 years weren't enough to cure his lack of brain to mouth filter.
Hinata snorts, burying his face in his neck.
So, Kageyama is standing in the middle of a loud, crowded party. There's punch inside his ear and sticking to the side of his neck.
Atsumu is half naked now dancing on the dining table.
Normally, this is the last place he would want to be, but all his focus is on the strong arms around him, the soft hair tickling his face, and the small shakes of Hinata laughing against him, bright as sunlight.
****
1.2
They’re having a garage sale because, according to Shoyo, he’s become a hoarder.
Which is fundamentally untrue, but they are moving in together and there’s not enough space in the apartment to fit all their stuff.
He supposes they could rent a bigger place, but Tobio’s apartment is conveniently close to both their gyms and their favorite restaurant. So, garage sale it is.
They’re mostly getting rid of old trinkets and kitchen appliances inherited from Shoyo’s mom and Tobio’s sister, along with some clothes from sponsorships that just aren’t their style.
They’re both circling the tables, making sure everything is properly labeled, when Tobio spots a faded plastic ring innocently sitting inside a basket full of jewelry.
Shoyo bumps against his back when he stops, peering into the basket.
“What’s that, Tobio?” he asks, hands already reaching inside the basket before he can reply or tell him not to touch it or…something.
“Nothing” he says, quickly, because it’s dumb. It’s a dumb plastic ring from someone he doesn’t even remember properly. He doesn’t know why his heart feels so heavy at the thought of throwing it away or selling it.
He turns to look at Shoyo and finds him staring down at the ring with an odd expression on his face.
Before he can ask what’s wrong, Shoyo has gone back into the apartment with a speed that rivals that of their volleyball matches.
Tobio feels a knot of something forming in his throat.
Shoyo is back in less than a minute, breathing heavily, right hand clutched to his heart in a fist.
He gives Tobio a tiny, slightly shaky smile and opens his fist.
In the middle of his palm, sit two plastic rings. One with a faded orange ribbon threaded through it.
Kageyama’s ring.
There’s a matching one, with a dark blue ribbon braided around it.
Tobio’s breath catches in his throat.
The sunny day comes back to him with staggering clarity.
A small orange haired boy grabbing his hand and pulling him into the small arcade next to the park.
Spending hours competing and playing, challenging each other to silly matches.
The boy beating him in almost every game, earning just enough tickets for two plastic rings.
Tobio, still upset about losing, throwing the ring as far as possible.
The orange haired boy - Shoyo - bursting into tears and running to find his mom.
Shoyo and his mom leaving the park moments later.
Tobio kept the ring because despite being upset, that was the first time he felt like he found a true friend; a kindred spirit.
“You kept it,” says Shoyo, a wonderous smile gracing the corner of his mouth, glassy eyes staring up at him.
Tobio has no words to explain how he feels right now. If he opens his mouth he’s sure a sob will come out intstead, so he just leans forward and pulls Shoyo tight to his chest, burying his nose in sun-kissed hair.
Shoyo presses back just as tightly, and pulls his head back to whisper into his ear “What in the soulmates, Kageyama Tobio.”
Tobio leans in and tastes summer in Shoyo’s mouth, plastic rings clutched tightly in their hands, destiny stretching like sweet taffy between them.
****