Work Text:
Hinata lounged on the couch, a mug of hot coffee nestled between his palms. The television played softly in the background, and while his eyes were trained on the images moving on the screen, his ears were listening for the tell tale signs of his boyfriend rummaging around in their bedroom.
After a few more blissful minutes of silence, Hinata could hear the opening and closing of the dresser drawers followed by some heavy sighing. Stealing a sip or two of the coffee in his hands, Hinata pasted a smile on his face as the bedroom door opened.
“Morning Hinata,” Kageyama grumbled as he paused to glance at Hinata and the television, “bad night?”
Hinata shrugged and took another sip of his coffee before shrugging, “I guess, I couldn’t sleep all that well. You know how it gets.” His smile was sunny but strained, and even in the early morning light, in the wake of the morning news telling an over sappy morning story about how puppies did make people happier, Kageyama leaned over the back of the couch to press a loving kiss to Hinata’s forehead. And his temple, followed by his nose, the bags under his eyes, and finally a chaste kiss to his lips.
“You should have woken me up,” his muttered between the small space of their lips, “we could have watched movies…or something.”
“and what? Have you grumpy in the morning at work?” Hinata smiled ruefully this time and offered his mug to Kageyama, who took it and stole more than a few sips before giving it back, “I could handle it, it wasn’t…it wasn’t that big of a deal. I’ll cope today, take it easy.”
Kageyama couldn’t do much more than nod his head and press another lingering kiss to Hinata’s cheek before he got swept up in his morning routine and left for the day.
Hinata didn’t mind. Not much at least. Kageyama made money for them, something he could never and would never fault his boyfriend for. It was just sad sometimes. To be alone. To have as much off time as he did. He could have less, but between Kageyama begging him to take a certain number of months off to make sure he didn’t burn out and Ukai ganging up on him to agree with his former student made sure that Hinata only helped teach the high schoolers so many times a month.
_ _ _
He was laying on their bed, a book above his face when it hit him. Kageyama wasn’t due to be home for a few more hours, and unlike the itch of last night, Hinata knew that he needed a distraction to work through and win the battle—though it never felt like he was going to win the war.
He was disgusting.
No Kageyama loved him he was loved, he would never—
Life would be easier if he wasn’t around.
What about those kids who looked up to him so much they would miss him what about Kageyama what about Kenma what about his family?
He knew. Hinata knew that logically what he felt wasn’t abnormal. He knew that what he felt wasn’t really all that normal but other people dealt with stuff like this more often than he did and managed to go about their normal day. Why couldn’t he?
Because he was weak.
It was simple. If he wasn’t so weak he could fight off these attacks, these horrible moments of panic and self-doubt wouldn’t be all that difficult to fight through. But he was weak. And instead of just ignoring the thoughts like someone like Kageyama would do, Hinata just got swept up in the feeling of being lost. It felt like drowning.
And the only way out was a shock to his system. Loud noises, sharp smells, sudden contact. Sharp pain. Pain pain pain. It worked best. It worked best. It worked so much better than anything else. Anything could snap him from his thoughts, but the sweet sensation of pain. That was something different. That was a new territory that Hinata didn’t get to feel often, didn’t let him feel often. Of the few times he’s felt it. It was addicting. Addicting. The pain made him feel free for once, like all those little insecurities were released from his skin, like the bad thoughts flowed out like the red blood from his veins.
A sharp and sudden pain blossomed across both his shoulders, and Hinata blinked his eyes open with a gasp, staring into concerned navy blue.
“Kageyama,” was all he said with a watery smile. The book that was previously laying on his chest was swept away as his boyfriend clamored on the bed and pulled Hinata close, letting the ginger boy cling to him, “Tobio,” he whispered against the fabric of his boyfriend’s shirt, “It hurt. It hurt a lot.”
Kageyama said nothing—not that Hinata expected him to—only hugged him tighter and rubbed a comforting palm up and down Hinata’s upper back. They laid on the bed for minutes, hours? Days? Hinata wasn’t sure. The seconds seemed to tick by quickly, but each breath he managed to drag into his panicked body felt like it took several minutes.
It hurt. It hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.
He wants it to stop.
_ _ _
Hinata wonders why Kageyama can’t make his bad thoughts go away. He wants him to. He wants to be able to love Kageyama the way Kageyama obviously loves him. But he can’t. The moment he thinks he does, that he loves Kageyama more than anything in the world, those thoughts creep back. So he never says it. Not once have those words passed his lips. Because he can’t love Kageyama. Not if he doesn’t even love himself.
He’ll try though. He always tries. And someday he might be able to tell Kageyama he loves him more than he loves himself.
He wouldn’t be lying then.
_ _ _
Kageyama comes home one night while Hinata is in the middle of an internal debate. Does he push Kageyama away and wallow in self-pity or drag his boyfriend down into hell with him?
Unfortunately, Kageyama is able to snap him out of this with a soft kiss to his cheek. Hinata forces a smile on his face—a smile Kageyama can see through—and sighs softly. If he pretends everything is okay, just for a little bit, maybe he can function like a normal person.
“How was work?” he tries.
“What were you thinking about?” Kageyama counters with a worried look in his eyes. From the bed, Hinata just shrugs. It’s easier to not tell the truth in these situations, “Hinata, what were you thinking about?”
“You, of course.” He tries again, hoping Kageyama would just drop the subject. He’s hungry, he realizes now that he hasn’t eaten all day. Just another thing Kageyama will lecture him about.
It doesn’t work. Now openly glaring at Hinata, Kageyama closes his hands into fists and lets a frown pull his lips down, “Hinata,” he growls. Hinata just closes his eyes and hopes that he can keep it together for just a little longer, “what the hell are you keeping from me.”
He says nothing.
After a few tense seconds, Hinata hears Kageyama let out a rush of air, “Okay,” he says, defeated. A few more seconds before soft lips press against his forehead, “I’m just worried about you,” the words are whispered, making them that much more potent. Hinata just nods and squeezes his eyes shut.
He doesn’t want to cry.
“I’m going to make dinner, okay?” Hinata nods again, refusing to open his eyes.
It hurts. It hurts. It hurts so bad.
And now he’s hurting Kageyama.
_ _ _
Hinata is well aware that Kageyama is well-versed in reading his body language. In fact, Hinata counts on it. So when Hinata looks over to find Kageyama watching him dig his nails into the soft inner flesh of his wrist, he knows that his boyfriend isn’t going to make it to work today.
Instead Kageyama gently pulls Hinata’s offending hand away from his skin before sitting up and taking the wounded wrist—deep crescent marks and some spots of blood—and pressing it to his lips. Hinata watches him with heavy eyelids, teetering between finally falling asleep after his thoughts plagued him all night, and letting Kageyama offer him some sort of comfort.
Kageyama peppers kisses all over his wrist, before moving up to kiss the middle of his palm before giving three kisses to each of his fingers. Each press of his lips against Hinata’s skin makes the ginger shiver, and he closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to look back at those intensely loving blue eyes staring at him.
He feels those warm lips—such a contrast to his often cold expressions—press against the tip of his nose, his cheeks, his forehead. Gentle kisses to each of his closed eyelids, then the softest of kisses against his lips. Hinata hums against Kageyama’s lips, sighing through his nose when his boyfriend kisses him again. And again. When cold hands slipped under his night shirt, Hinata gasped into the kiss, letting Kageyama slide his tongue against his.
When they broke apart to breath, Hinata forced his eyes open and found Kageyama staring at him. He was tempted to close them again, to just let himself feel Kageyama around him, but he doesn’t.
“Better?” Kageyama asked him, ducking down to peck at his lips before Hinata could respond. When Hinata shook his head, he watched a wrinkle form between Kageyama’s brows.
Unable to help it, Hinata let a small—but happy—smile split his lips, and suddenly that wrinkle vanished in favor of Kageyama grinning back at him, “More kisses,” Hinata demanded childishly, squeaking when Kageyama lowered his head to blow a raspberry against Hinata’s neck.
Though Kageyama missed work that day—and would likely be a little more frazzled when the bills came—Hinata let himself, no forced himself to enjoy the day with his boyfriend.
And while the smiles were strained and the bags under his eyes didn’t escape Kageyama’s notice, Hinata knew he was just as happy to have Hinata’s peals of laughter fill their apartment once again.
It had been too long. Hinata missed this.
He didn’t know how to fix it.
He didn’t know how to fix himself.
_ _ _
His good days never last long. He tries to stretch them out, but it takes so much work to be happy; it’s much easier to just let himself succumb to his thoughts. Fighting them took energy, energy Hinata rarely had when his mind kept him up all night. He took the fight out of himself, in a weird and twisted way.
He didn’t know how to stop.
_ _ _
He knows Kageyama hates letting him do this. He knows that all Kageyama wants to do is still his actions and kiss him until Hinata is a crying mess against his chest. But Hinata also knows that Kageyama would never stop him. It’s a form of release. From the pain that is. It’s shocking, it makes the thoughts go away. Stills his mind for just a little longer. Sates him for long enough to maybe function properly. So when Hinata pulls Kageyama into a startlingly rough kiss, his boyfriend only sighs through his nose before he is kissing back twice as hard, forcing Hinata to succumb to his dominance.
Straddling Kageyama’s lap, Hinata bit his lips as he pressed himself down onto Kageyama’s dick, keeping the pained whimpers from growing in volume. Kageyama just held him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, drowning out the voices in Hinata’s head that told him he deserved the pain, drowning out the pain itself.
Kageyama was his medicine, but he wasn’t sure how much longer Kageyama could lower himself to Hinata’s level.
He wasn’t sure how much more his lovely boyfriend could take.
Hinata didn’t want to let him go.
But what if he had to?
_ _ _
Luckily Kageyama was listening to the doctor because all Hinata wanted to do was bolt out the door and never look back. He knew Kageyama was saving as much as he could to get him to a doctor, he wanted help too. But he didn’t like how the doctor was touching him, asking him questions he didn’t want to answer. Not with Kageyama in the room.
He could have asked his boyfriend to leave, but he was scared. So scared. So very scared.
It hurt. He hurt. Everything hurt. He could tell that with every answer he gave the doctor he hurt Kageyama just a little bit more.
Have you ever tried to kill yourself? Yes.
Do you think you deserve the pain you inflict on yourself? Of course. Every bit of it.
And so on.
It hurt more when Kageyama threaded their fingers together and stared at him when the doctor left for a brief moment. “Do you love me,” he asked, and Hinata felt the blood in his veins go cold.
He could lie. He could lie and say yes. He could lie and make everything okay.
But it wouldn’t be okay. Kageyama would see through the lie, and Hinata knew if Kageyama called him out on it, he wouldn’t be able to explain. He was stuck. Both options sucked. He wanted to cry, he didn’t want to hurt Kageyama. He didn’t want, he didn’t want. He didn’t want. But what did Kageyama want?
“No,” he answered truthfully, watching navy eyes widen then narrow. The fingers wrapped around his tightened and Hinata averted his gaze, feeling sick, “I can’t love you” he continued through a thudding heart and a stomach that felt like it was going to toss up everything he had eaten that day. Except he had eaten nothing. And throwing up stomach bile sucked, “I can’t love you because I don’t know how to love myself.”
The hug he was wrapped up in made some of his worry vanish, and Hinata allowed himself to cry for a little bit. He felt safe in Kageyama’s arms. He didn’t want to leave.
For once. It didn’t hurt.
_ _ _
Medicine was funny. Like people took medication for something; say headaches. The side effect of having that medication could be depression in which they would need more medication. Which would of course have side effects that could be corrected with yet again, more pills. Hinata was afraid of that. Afraid that the medication would cause him some harm—more harm than he did to himself daily—and would make him even more useless. He couldn’t have that. He had to be in the here and now.
For Kageyama.
For the high schoolers he helped coach.
For himself.
But Kageyama begged him to try them. Try the meds and see what they do to. If Hinata didn’t like them, if they made him feel too bad, or if they made him worse (because apparently that was a thing. ‘everyone’s body doesn’t work the same’ people say but Hinata thinks its bullshit), then he could stop them and they could try something else.
Sadly no matter how much Hinata cried and pleaded with Kageyama to not take medication, he was told that it was the only way he might someday feel better. It shut him up, but it didn’t make him any happier.
Luckily for him, the medication didn’t make him feel too disgusting. Sometimes he got really hungry, but Kageyama counted that as a good thing. Hinata eating more meant that he would gain weight and maybe have some more energy. And if he had more energy, then he could work out with the high schoolers if he was so worried about becoming fat.
Hinata couldn’t find it in him to argue.
_ _ _
“Nao-kun, you set like this,” Hinata bent his legs and held his arms out in front of him, waiting until the other boy mimicked his actions, “better! Now the ball might not hit your face!” another student called out that that didn’t seem to be the case for Hinata, but Hinata just grinned and tossed back another quip. As practice went on, he could feel himself getting a little itchy, but it was bearable.
The medication worked wonders. He wasn’t 100% all the time, and there were days when he just didn’t take it to make sure he wasn’t going to ever be dependent on it or gain too much of a tolerance for the medication, but overall he was much happier.
Those plaguing thoughts didn’t bother him as much, and when he wasn’t feeling as horrible as he used to, Hinata found that he could use his words to communicate with Kageyama about what he was thinking.
Why can’t I love you? Am I weak? Do you really love me? I’m sorry I ruined so many of our years together. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m so sorry.
And each and every time Hinata would come to Kageyama with these questions, his boyfriend listened with a soft quietness that Hinata never realized he loved so much. And each and every time when Hinata dissolved into tears, Kageyama would wrap him up in his strong and warm arms and answer each one of Hinata’s questions.
You do love me, give it time. You aren’t weak, you’re one of the strongest people I know. Of course I love you, I’ll always love you, don’t worry. I wouldn’t be here if you ruined our time together. You were hurting, I was here to help. Never apologize Shouyo. I love you, that’s enough of a reason for me to stay.
_ _ _
Hinata bangs his head against the wall, pulling away from Kageyama’s incessant kisses to laugh. It’s cut off when those lips find a purpose sucking a dark mark against his neck, and Hinata bangs his head against the wall again, though this time he groans half in pain and half in pleasure.
“Are you okay?” Kageyama looks up from his task, but Hinata only mumbles out an affirmative before he pushes Kageyama’s head back down to his neck, ignoring the smug chuckling from his raven haired boyfriend.
They make it to the bed with minimal issues—Kageyama had almost dropped Hinata when he tripped over a pile of clothes, but nothing new there—and Kageyama tosses the ginger onto the plush bed, snorting when Hinata flails out like he always does and laughs when Hinata pulls him down. They take a moment to breathe before Kageyama is kissing at the bare skin he sees, before Hinata is arching into his touch, his eyes alight with happiness and laughter bubbling from his lips each time Kageyama’s fingers dig into his skin in just the right way.
He’s happy. Maybe not as happy as he used to be, but happier than he was. And that’s all he wants, that’s all he wished for.
He’s okay like this. He can live like this.
_ _ _
“I love you,” he says one day, a grin to his lips, and flowers present in his hands. He watches with baited breath as Kageyama slows his actions to a stop and turns to look at him, at Hinata smiling and thrusting flowers out like it’s their first date, “I love you so much,” Hinata repeats because he finally said it. Years too late, so he will never be pleased with the amount he will say it.
He’ll say it ever second of every minute. Every minute that is in an hour that is in a day. Each week will be filled with him telling Kageyama how much he loves him, and each month will consist of exactly what made him fall in love until the year finally comes when Hinata is satisfied with how much he has told Kageyama he loved him.
“Kageyama?” his head tilts to the side, his grin slipping into a worried frown. He’s just standing there, eyes wide. Eyes moist…oh. Just as his brain clicks that Kageyama is about to cry, the tears overflow and Hinata jumps forward and presses himself against his boyfriend’s chest, mindful of the flowers still clutched in his hand. Without hesitation, Kageyama wraps his arms tightly around Hinata and they stand there for a few quiet minutes, “can you at least take the flowers?” Hinata mumbles against the fabric of Kageyama’s shirt, smiling when the raven takes a step back and accepts the spring flowers from Hinata.
“It took you long enough,” Kageyama says as if he’s angry that Hinata had to wait almost seven years before he could return Kageyama’s feelings. But Hinata knows that Kageyama is overjoyed that he said it, he knows that Kageyama had accepted long ago that Hinata might never feel like he was ready to tell him his feelings.
“I love you,” he says again, grinning bright, “I love you, and I love me. Kageyama it feels so good,” Is this what he had been missing out on for so many years?
“I know,” Kageyama snorts, placing the flowers in a vase (since when did they own a vase?) and returning to Hinata’s side, “I love you too.” They meet halfway for the kiss; Hinata rocking onto his toes and Kageyama stooping down slightly so their lips connected seamlessly.
It’s perfect. It’s everything Hinata ever dreamed for.
He’s so happy he could probably fly away if he wanted to. He wanted to proclaim to the world how much he was in love with Kageyama Tobio, how much he finally loved himself.
Of course he still took medication, still had those days where all he wanted to do was let himself drown in the feelings of self-doubt and self-hatred. But Kageyama was always there. And with his renewed ability to talk things through with his boyfriend, Hinata rarely had to go through those episodes alone. And if, by some chance, he was, he knew how to deal with them.
So long were the days and weeks on end where he wanted to die.
Hello to the new him; the Hinata Shouyo who enjoyed every second of his life, because if he didn’t enjoy it, who would?