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“Can you squeeze a trip to Osaka in your schedule?”
When he picked up the phone to call Kageyama, he didn’t suspect that he was going to ask such a thing. He was still extremely embarrassed about it, but it wasn’t as if he could backtrack and make him leave.
Shouyou had always been confident in his life, or else he wouldn’t have left for Brazil. Hell, he wouldn’t have started playing volleyball in the first place, too short to make it, too clumsy and undisciplined. He didn’t choose this path for himself because it was easy, but because it brought him so much happiness that he couldn’t ignore it.
“There are no shortcuts to any place worth going,” Takeda sensei once said to him, and since then—and perhaps even since he fell ill and exhausted during the match against Kamomedai in his first High School year—, he had sworn to himself to never take shortcuts again.
“Do what you like and don’t have regrets, my son. Do what makes you happy, and you’ll always have my unconditional support,” was what his mother had said to him one day, and she repeated it many, many times, every single time he needed to hear it. And Shouyou just did it, tried to live up to his mother and sensei’s words, but after Brazil everything became hazy and stressful. He knew what he wanted, but returning after being away for two years, instead of giving him relief, made him feel like he was disconnected from himself, insecure. Was he even ready to make it to the V League? Were his years spent on beach volleyball enough to forge him with the shape and skills of an all rounded player? What would he become?
His Brazilian experience tested him in ways he couldn’t foresee before, but to Shouyou’s present eyes it seems like bracketing, pausing his life, and resuming it now felt strange and breathtaking in the wrong way.
Of course he took everything seriously, with his mind always aiming for returning to indoor volleyball, that’s not the point. The issue was that, now that his future was right there, he freaked out, his mind filling with stupid what ifs and whatnots. He had wanted this, everything, so badly that the more he neared his goal, the more he was frightened to lose it, to miss it, to mess it.
It wasn’t only about his career, he wanted to play with everyone else, he wanted to play against Kageyama. Gods, sometimes he thought he wanted it more than anything else. So, maybe that’s why he called for Kageyama to come and help him, and strangely enough—or maybe not?—Kageyama understood and came without complaining.
To be honest, he had called Kenma too, as his best friend and as the best sponsor ever, but he said he couldn’t reach him in Osaka, and offered instead to make a video call. It actually helped him to relax, but Shouyou knew it was temporary, and the next morning he was again in a pit of fiercely bubbling restlessness.
Kageyama, though, had said yes and was now standing in the doorway of the guest house in which Shouyou had rented a room for the couple of days he had to stay in Osaka to be tested by the Black Jackal’s coaches, his fringe neatly parted, sticking at his temples from sweat, blue eyes piercing as ever, lips curling progressively into his usual pout.
“Can I come in or what?” was the first thing Kageyama said to him, and Shouyou moved away quickly to leave enough room for Kageyama to enter.
“T-thank you for coming!” Shouyou exclaimed, receiving a grunt as a reply.
He showed Tobio where to find a pair of new slippers to change into and then guided him through the corridor, passin by the kitchen and the living room and quickly making it to his bedroom. Once they were inside, Shouyou scrambled to take Tobio’s bag and place it on a chair, gesturing for Tobio to take a seat somewhere.
After a moment of hesitation, he sat on the bed, body stiffen as if he was in discomfort. Shouyou thought about getting him something, but this wasn’t his house, he didn’t have anything worthy of a guest, and at the same time didn’t dare to go back to the common area and get him a drink, so he went for platitudes, his mind too empty to come up with something better.
“How… how was the trip?” He sat on the remaining chair and tried not to think that calling Kageyama had been a mistake—but gods, he was so nervous now that they were face to face!
“Long,” Tobio said flatly, looking around.
Shouyou’s voice came out louder than he intended. “I’m sorry!”
For a moment neither of them talked, silence growing thick, dragging and dilating the seconds. Then Tobio asked with a smirk, “So, suffering again from stomach ache? Loser.”
“It’s… it’s not like that!” Shouyou stuttered in his words. “This is completely different!”
Kageyama crossed his arms on his chest and tipped his head to one side. He looked like a curious cat. “How so?”
“I—” Shouyou didn’t even get past that pitiful little sound. It was hard to reply, especially because he was doing so at Kageyama’s face, and at the same time it was just because it was him—his fated rival, the most important person besides his family—that he had to be honest and find the courage. He was unconsciously pulling at his hoodie’s sleeves, twisting and clutching them. “What if I can’t make it, Kageyama?”
It surprised him when Kageyama didn’t falter and stated with a plain face, “Then, it means you’re not worthy.”
“Kageyama??” Shouyou was so shocked that he squeaked and lept up from his chair. “That’s cruel, you’re supposed to—”
“I said,” Kageyama repeated, glaring at him in warning to not interrupt him. “If you don’t make it, then it means you’re not worthy, but if there’s someone who can do it, I think it’s you.”
Something close to an electric jolt ran up his body. The aftershock dragged him in his seat again, slouched and caught between hope and hurt. “Uh? Do you really believe it?”
Kageyama nodded and continued, “You should believe it too. What did you go to Brazil for? Haven’t you gotten better after beach volleyball?”
Though Shouyou didn’t think it was a real question, he felt the need to reply, his pride on the line, but his voice hadn’t its usual boldness to fuel it, so it came out weak and hesitant. “Yeah, I think. But what if that’s not enough—”
“Just shut that mouth and listen.” He got Kageyama so pissed off that he yelled and stood up in a flash, towering over Shouyou, menacing. “You were good before and you played by instinct mainly. Now you have mastered the basics and more, what do you fear exactly?”
Shouyou opened his mouth but immediately shut it. He couldn’t possibly say he was afraid of not being enough to play against him, he knew Kageyama had seen something in him, he had been the first to see him and his unrefined potential, so what if he was going to disappoint his best rival and best teammate? He couldn’t really bring himself to have that conversation, not like this, so he took a deep breath and asked for the reason why he wanted Kageyama to come.
“If… if I put my head in your lap, can you play with my hair and distract me from my anxiety?”
Shouyou spoke so fast he wasn’t entirely sure his words made sense. It only took a glance at Tobio to know he understood; the difficult thing was to say if he was about to throw his fists at him or… well, Shouyou couldn’t really see any different endings.
“What?” Kageyama’s voice was strained, he even took a step back and hit his legs against the bed frame.
Seeing his reaction, Shouyou felt the urge to spring up too and take a step toward Kageyama. Maybe it would’ve been better not to, since by doing so he had limited the already little space there was in the bedroom, and because Kageyama looked like he wanted to escape—which Shouyou had to prevent at all costs—, face weirdly flushed pink and expression unreadable. “It’s just that my mother tended to do it to me and… and I kinda feel like I need it right now or I’ll have a breakdown tomorrow. Please Kageyama! I’ll owe you a favour!” he explained, pleading and desperate.
Kageyama turned and looked everywhere except in Shouyou’s direction. “Are… are you a baby?”
Shame seeped in his veins, painting his cheeks that now matched Kageyama’s. Why did it have to be so difficult? Why was playing volleyball the only simple thing between them? Words weren’t required on the court: The ball, the glances, the body posture, even the smallest of gestures was meaningful. When it came to words, though, it was like they always failed them, failed him. But Shouyou didn’t have alternatives this time, he had to make it through to Kageyama how important this was to him, to the both of them, possibly.
“Maybe I am. But if I don’t calm down now, tomorrow I’ll mess everything up and I don’t want it, Kageyama. I want to play against you. Didn’t we swear to be rivals once again? Don’t you want it? Can’t you help me with this just once?”
When Kageyama replied, he hissed. “Fine. But get that red, nasty face away from mine,” and saying that, he unkindly shoved Shouyou’s face away.
Shouyou was burning from embarrassment, but still found in him the courage to mutter, “Your stupid face is red too.”
“It’s not,” Kageyama grumped.
Shouyou couldn’t really resist teasing Kageyama because, with the teasing, words didn’t fail him. “Need a mirror, Pouty-yama.”
“And you need a blow on the head, not playing with your hair,” Kageyama retorted, and seemed like he had every intention to do just that.
Shouyou raised his hands in surrender. There would be time for their usual banter, later, but he knew what he needed the most was to relax. “Okay, my bad. Truce?”
The only reply was a grunt, but Kageyama nodded towards the bed in the end.
“Just… get yourself comfortable and sit where you please, I’ll lay down after.”
It was so weird to say something like that and he hoped to never have to say it again. He looked at Kageyama as he sat with his back resting against the pillows, but then sliding quickly on the edge and staring at his knees, rigid as laundry left out in the cold winter night.
“I said to get yourself comfortable,” Shouyou repeated, punctuating each word by poking Kageyama’s shoulder with his index finger.
Only then he gave up his embarrassment and sat back against the pillows, avoiding Shouyou’s eyes. Not that Shouyou himself wanted to look at him, and scrambled on the bed with his gaze glued to the blue quilt. Shit, it reminded him of Kageyama’s eyes.
He curled up near the other man’s legs and cautiously put his head on Kageyama’s lap, cheek resting on the soft fabric of his joggers.
“Is… is this okay?”
“Yeah…” Kageyama breathed, making Shouyou’s heart jump in his chest. However, it was nothing compared to the feeling of Kageyama’s fingers dipping into his hair, slow and gentle, interlacing with his red locks. After a moment, Shouyou felt Kageyama’s pads caressing his scalp and, despite how hard he tried to suppress it, he still shivered, enjoying the faint touch.
“Is… is this okay?” Kageyama asked in turn, stopping immediately, shifting his legs as if he wanted to stand up.
“It’s perfect, go on.”
He should’ve felt awkwardness—and goodness, part of him did—, but that massage transformed his body into a puddle of melted muscles, brain tingling by the waves of relaxation that were spreading at every movement of Kageyama’s hand, like circles on the water surface.
“My mom used to tell me tales while doing this,” he said under his breath, just wanting to break the silence that’s protracting between them. “Actually, we made them up together.”
Unexpectedly, Kageyama cleared his throat to offer, “Do you want me to…?”
“Why? Do you want to?”
He meant it like another light teasing, but Kageyama was full of surprises and, instead of brushing it off or retorting, he coughed and straightened, causing Shouyou’s head to move with him.
“There was a…” Kageyama began, trailing off to let Shouyou pick up from there.
It took a moment for Shouyou to realize what was going on. Was Kageyama seriously doing this? That Kageyama Tobio? He gripped the fabric over Kageyama’s knee and clutched it in his fist. He used to fiddle with the hem of his mother’s skirt, but this time wasn’t just muscle memory, he was preventing himself from bursting out—laughing, crying, screaming… he didn’t really know, the only cristal clear thing was that Kageyama was doing more than he asked. The entire point of Kageyama Tobio’s being was that he tended to go beyond expectations and could sweetly surprise you in the most unexpected ways. There was more beyond him being a volleyball genius.
“Boy. There was a boy,” Shouyou finally said.
“And this boy…”
“Played volleyball,” he continued, never staggering.
Kageyama’s fingers stopped their slow brushes. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
This was how he and his mother played this game, it was what he needed.
“Okay then,” Kageyama complied, resuming his light caresses, this time letting his fingertips indulge on his scalp. “There was a boy who played volleyball. He sucked at everything he did, especially digs. God, he couldn’t—”
Shouyou growled in warning, pinching his thigh. “Kageyama.”
“Err… right, sorry,” he apologised, even though his tone wasn’t sincere, but Shouyou glossed over it for once and let Kageyama continue. “But one day…”
“He left, because he had to improve.” This was somewhat still safe territory, but Shouyou felt the tension starting to build up inside him.
It was then that Kageyama’s fingers slid behind his ear, finding the soft, smooth skin. The faint presence of perfectly trimmed nails lightly scratching there, then going down, following the outline of his neck to the joint with the shoulder and turning up to disappear again in his fluffy hair—it all left Shouyou breathless. “He went to the other side of the world and stayed away from home for two long years, and when he came back…”
“He found out that everyone he knew had found their own place and he didn’t know how to fit in anymore.”
“Is this—shit. Okay, I know. Back to the tale.” Kageyama tried to protest, but Shouyou pinched his thigh again and he backtracked, though he wasn’t happy to be silenced like that, Shouyou could tell that much by the way his hand started moving, losing a bit of its gentleness. “His place was right there, his friends carved it in wait for him to return.”
“But he didn’t know it.”
Shouyou was being honest. On one hand, he knew his friends hadn’t moved on from him; on the other he didn’t know what would happen if he didn’t make it into the MSBY. He could already feel the acrid taste of being left behind on his tongue.
“But the fact that he didn’t know, didn’t make it less true. He had to play a game so the coaches of an important team could test him and decide if they wanted to recruit him. The boy—”
Before Kageyama could turn the tale as he pleased, Shouyou cut in and said quickly, “—lost—”
“—lost his faith in himself because he was a dumbass,” Kageyama got back at the wheel of the story and pulled a little on Shouyou’s hair at the word ‘dumbass’.
“Can you not insult m—my character?,” Shouyou was about to say ‘me’, but stopped just in time, though it was useless to pretend this wasn’t about him.
“No. He was a dumbass because he should know everyone had waited for him to come back, and he should know one of the best Japan players who made it into the Olympics roster at 19 years old was watching him and believed in him. He certainly wasn’t the type to believe in the first dumbass he saw in the streets!” He said it in a rush, as if he was preventing Shouyou from interrupting him—not that he would’ve been able to. Shouyou was too stunned by Kageyama’s words: He knew Kageyama always told what he thought but that didn’t reduce his surprise and the blow that those words had just given him. What a good feeling it was.
“Would you calm down? You’re pulling at my hair,” it was all that Shouyou could say, and he did it with a small voice, even, because he wanted to know what else Kageyama had to say and feared that if he talked louder he would break the magic.
“No! Because now I’m going to finish this story and you’ll listen with your mouth shut, understood?” Kageyama shouted, though he loosened his grip on Shouyou’s hair, turning back to more soothing intertwinings and caressing. Even his voice was lower and calmer when he continued, “So, the dumbass went to the game fuelled by the motivational talk he had with his friend, and played one of the best game he had in a long while, because thanks to his beach volleyball years he became steadier, stronger, more in power of his skills. Hell, he even grew taller! Just a bit, though. He was still way shorter than—okay okay,” he reached over to swat away Shouyou’s hand that was pinching his thigh again, leaving a trail of his scent in the air as he retracted. Shouyou filled up his lungs with it and let him go on. “What was perfect about him was the fact that he was still the perfect decoy as he was in the past, he was even greater now because he had an arsenal of new weapons under his belt. So, fucking yes that he won the game and the coaches were stunned by his play. He got in, Hinata, do you hear me? He got in. And after that, months later, he and his fated rival confronted each other in the most epic game—”
“Don’t,” Shouyou interrupted, sitting up, letting his back facing Kageyama.
“Don’t what?”
It was then that he turned to him and had to stop himself from placing a hand on Kageyama’s chest. He left it on the other man’s thigh instead, where it had been all the time, pinching skin and fisting the joggers. It felt safer to do so.
“Don’t spoil that part for me yet.” He smiled, the first genuine, relaxed smile he had worn on in days, maybe even in weeks, before he noticed it was getting strained. “I don’t want to know how that ends, not yet.”
“How is it supposed to end?” Kageyama scoffed. “Of course I’ll win.”
Now it was Shouyou’s turn to smirk. “Don’t be so sure, Kageyama.”
Kageyama raised a brow, sceptical. “Why? Our team is pretty good, and Black Jackal hasn’t defeated us yet.”
“Because I’ll join them soon, and I’m steadier, stronger and the perfect decoy, with a lot of weapons under my belt.” With every word, Shouyou felt confidence and positivity reborn and thriving in his chest, the familiar flame—hunger—that had always been there burning anew, stronger than before because he was so close to the starting line for his new journey, the one he had waited and worked for two years. “You said so yourself.”
Kageyama sprang forward with his upper body, his face inches apart from Shouyou, and poked his chest with his finger. “This doesn’t mean—”
“Shh,” Shouyou hushed him and poked him back. “You just cheered me up a lot, do you want to go through it all over again?”
“I didn’t cheer you up at my expense,” Kageyama pouted, his finger digging hard through Shouyou’s hoodie.
“Well, you did. What’s done is done.”
Shouyou met Kageyama’s hand halfway, before it could poke again at him, fingers interlacing in an imitation of how Kageyama’s had gone through his hair just minutes ago. Then he remembered something about his old teammate and his lighthearted mood surged into silliness as he tickled Kageyama’s side with his free hand.
Kageyama jolted with a yelp, squirming to get away from Shouyou.
“What are you doing?!”
“I suddenly remember you’re ticklish.” And I missed tackling you like this, Shouyou thought but didn’t speak.
“I’m not!!” Kageyama denied pathetically against all evidence, trying to block Shouyou’s hands away from him, failing and slipping further down the bed, almost flat on the mattress.
“You sure? Why do you writhe like a worm then?” Shouyou laughed, but it got cut out of his lungs as Kageyama kicked his leg. “Ouch, stop kicking me!”
“If only you’d stop tickling me!” Kageyama retorted just while Shouyou reached to poke his side again from behind him.
Another sound came out of Kageyama’s mouth, half a laugh and half a whine, as he kicked his legs on the bed and threw his head back, hitting Shouyou.
“Ouch!!!” Shouyou bellowed in pain, immediately releasing Kageyama from his grip and clutching at his tingling nose. “It hurts!!”
“Good.”
Kageyama’s voice was smug when it made it through the fog of pain in which Shouyou’s brain was in.
Shouyou glared at him. “Excuse me?! You almost broke my nose!”
But then he truly watched Kageyama, lying on the bed, with a hand open on his chest and one of the biggest smiles Shouyou had ever seen on him outside court. “It’s good that you’re smiling again.”
And oh, how his heart skipped a bit at that sight. He let his hand slide on the mattress, dangerously near to Kageyama’s, but did it even matter anymore? They’ve passed an hour with their hands on each other’s bodies. Still, this felt different from anything they had ever done, and Shouyou’s mind thought back on Heitor telling him he was going to propose to Nice if they’d won the game. He knew he had considered it a bit foolish of him back then, but now he found himself thinking about something similar: What if he confessed to Kageyama he’d been falling in love with him for a long time if he won the match? It was crazy and thrilling, also because Kageyama would stay till the end of his game, even though no one was allowed to watch the play. He’d be there to catch him, no matter how this would end.
“Thank you for today, Yama-Yama,” Shouyou said softly, looking the other man in the eyes, but it didn’t last long since Kageyama diverted his gaze and fixed it on the ceiling.
“Who… who did this to you when you were in Brazil?”
A pang of sadness hit Shouyou in the stomach as he heard the question and remembered how those moments were the most unpleasant memories he had collected during his Brazilian days. “Pedro, sometimes, but it was a bit difficult doing it mostly in Brazilian.”
Kageyama looked away and grunted something Shouyou didn’t get, but still guessed right, and rolled his eyes.
“Oh, c’mon! Don’t be like this. Pedro is a fine guy.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Kageyama grumbled, pretending he didn’t talk, and crossed his arms on his chest.
“Even if that was real, you thought that.”
“What?” Kageyama snapped.
Shouyou found this trait of Kageyama endearing and exasperating at the same time, but he continued. “About the fact that he’s not as good as you. Or my mother.”
Kageyama tried a quick and careful look at Shouyou. “Well, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Shouyou admitted. “But still, don’t be mean to my friend. It wasn’t his fault if he couldn’t always manage to calm me down, he did his best.”
This explanation seemed to sit well with Kageyama, who relaxed his shoulders again. After a moment of silence he changed the subject, “By the way, I’ve meant to ask this before… where am I supposed to sleep tonight?”
“Uh,” Shouyou sat up, brain working fast. Then it dawned on him. “Uh?! Oh my god, I didn’t think about it???”
Kageyama sat up too and shook him by the shoulders. “How is it that you never think things through? There’s only one fucking bed!”
Shouyou was possibly even more shocked about this, there was no way he would’ve survived a night sleeping right next to Kageyama. Of course they had slept near each other during their training camps, everyone on their rolled beds and Shouyou often trespassing and throwing his limbs on Kageyama, but this was completely different. “L—let’s find another solution! Let’s see if there’s still a free room. I’ll pay of course!” he babbled, leaping up and pacing back and forth in the room.
“Boke,” Kageyama said in a resigned tone and shook his head.
Shouyou knew it was his fault for not considering this thing before inviting over people, but he didn’t want to admit it since Kageyama could be found guilty too. “Well, why didn’t you think about it either?? You didn’t even ask if there was a spare bed!”
“Excuse me if I was too worried when I heard you on the phone like you were about to cry!”
Looking at Kageyama in that moment was like watching himself in the mirror: Their eyes went wide at the same time, mouth falling open and then suddenly covered with a hand, Kageyama probably because he hadn’t meant to say that much, and Shouyou to prevent himself from letting out a surprised scream. After the initial shock, Shouyou kept his hand in front of his face to hide a smile, but didn’t comment.
“I mean… it’s not—I wasn’t—” Kageyama tried, pitifully, and Shouyou put him out of his misery.
“I’ll go ask the landlady if there’s a spare room.”
And with that, he closed the door behind his back and finally let go a soft chuckle. He was definitely going to ask Kageyama out for a date. Well, they’d already dated enough; it was time to ask him to be his boyfriend.
He walked through the corridor and up the stairs to reach the landlady’s apartment with a light bounce in his steps and confusion in his chest and mind: He didn’t know what he hoped anymore, the possibility of sleeping next to Kageyama was captivating. So, it was with a bit of anxiety and guilt that he greeted with relief the answer of the landlady who said that no, unfortunately the rooms were all booked, but there wasn’t any problem for Kageyama to stay over if it was just for one night. Shouyou bowed profusely, apologised for the inconvenience and walked back to his room, taking a moment to breathe deeply before grabbing the doorknob and entering.
Shouyou found Kageyama pacing as he did just minutes ago, writhing his hands and jumping when he saw Shouyou was back, watching him and waiting to hear what he had to say.
“I’m sorry, there’s no free room, but the lady said it’s okay for you to sleep here, if you want.”
Kageyama huffed a breath and scrubbed his face with his hand. “It’s okay, it’s not as if we never slept in the same room. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“What—no!” Shouyou shouted in protest, and it wasn’t only because he was imagining how it would be to fall asleep and wake up looking at Kageyama’s face. “You can’t! You’re my guest and the bed is big enough for the both of us.”
Kageyama pouted, but his cheeks were flushed and it was enough to rocket up Shouyou’s hopes. “Fine. Kick me out of bed and you’re dead.”
Shouyou nodded, unable to speak.
“I take the wall side.”
“Yeah,” Shouyou agreed to this too. He was going to say yes to everything if that meant having Kageyama all to himself for just one night.
Since it was getting late, they ordered dinner—it was on Shouyou, to make up for the situation—, and ate it at the small desk in Shouyou’s room, knees and elbows bumping from time to time until Shouyou just let his arms and legs stay where they were, and smiled to himself when Kageyama didn’t move away.
He asked some questions about the V League and how Kageyama got accepted by the Adlers, all things he already knew but it helped him to think about tomorrow without sulking or mulling over too much.
Finally, after they took turns to shower in the shared bathroom, it was time to go to bed and things got awkward again, with Kageyama climbing on it and Shouyou following right after.
“How are you?” Kageyama asked when they were both lying down, faces to the ceiling and hands rigid on their sides.
“Great,” Shouyou replied, too eagerly, so he tried again with something less suspicious. “Err… good. I’m calm now, thank you.”
“Good for you,” Kageyama muttered and turned on his side, giving Shouyou his back.
“What?” Shouyou stared at Kageyama’s shoulders, hoping he felt his gaze and turned. It didn’t happen. Was it that bad for him to sleep in the same bed?
“Nothing.”
And it was obvious by his tone, all pouty and disgruntled, that it was all the contrary.
“It’s because of the pillow?” Shouyou tried to guess, remembering how Kageyama liked to sleep hugging the pillow. “You can sleep how you like, I don’t care.”
Kageyama yanked the sheets to his side and almost buried himself under. “I don’t want to be like you and risk rolling on you.”
“Maybe if we fall asleep close to each other, then we wouldn’t need to worry for it to happen later,” Shouyou laughed and he truly meant it like a joke, but understood the implication of what he said only when he felt the sheets and the mattress shift suddenly, Kageyama turned to face and watch him with something in his eyes he couldn’t quite name.
It took too long for him to realise that that something in Kageyama’s eyes turned into panic.
“I didn’t mean—” Kageyama started justifying himself.
“No, it’s fine for me if you want—” Shouyou cut in to clear the misunderstanding.
“No,” Kageyama’s voice was firm when he said it. “Tomorrow is your big day. You have to rest well.”
“O...kay,” Shouyou surrendered and bit his bottom lip to not say he would sleep better with Kageyama’s arm around him. Since he couldn’t speak to his heart’s content, he asked instead, “Will you come and jog with me in the morning?”
”Of course.”
It was all Shouyou needed, that imperceptible smile that was tugging at the corners of his lips and one would easily miss it if they didn’t know Kageyama well. Shouyou often saw it directed at him because it usually meant something like, ‘You dumbass, of course. There’s no need to ask,” just like now.
“Good,” Shouyou purred. Then, locking his eyes on the other man’s, he said, “Rest well, Kageyama.”
“Goodnight, Hinata.”
And just like that, they closed their eyes and fell asleep, Shouyou’s heart slowing his pace. He dreamed in soothing blue, with the sound of the riptide and the waves of a night blue sea in which he felt home.
Before everything else, the first thing that Shouyou noticed the next morning was how his chest was rising and falling with an arm resting on it. The second thing he acknowledged was how he got pins and needles in his right shoulder since something was pressing heavily on it. The third thing was the smell of the fruity shampoo the landlady stuffed the shared bathroom’s supplies. The fourth and last was the wet stain of drool on his pajama shirt. Only then he opened his eyes and saw that Kageyama had indeed hugged him like he used to do with the pillow, sleeping soundly and pressed tight on his side. So that was why he could actually get some rest, without turning and tossing in the bed, gripped with jitters.
He wanted to brush locks of black air away from Kageyama’s face but had no courage to do it. Instead, he looked at his watch to check the hour and saw it was almost time to get ready for the day. In a whim of wickedness, he thought of turning off the alarm and enjoying what he was sure was going to come next.
“Kageyama,” he whispered, patting gently on his shoulder.
Kageyama grunted in his sleep. Shouyou felt his legs stretching against his own, but nothing else happened. He had to call him two other times before Kageyama blinked his eyes open, lifted his head just enough to look up and—then was when he realized it and Shouyou read in his eyes everything that was crossing his mind. He wriggled away from Shouyou’s hug and almost hit his back on the wall.
“Slept well?” Shouyou asked with a smirk on his face, because how could he not tease, Kageyama having the reddest face he had ever seen on him, wide eyed and chest heaving quickly.
“What the fuck??”
“You even drooled on my—”
“Bathroom! I’ll wait for you out!”
And with that he crawled off the bed, at first stepping on Shouyou, then thinking better of it and getting down from the other side. He went out of the door clumsily, bumping his toes on the leg of the desk, and had to turn back, after realising he didn’t bring his change of clothes and grabbed the bag without looking at Shouyou. Then, he was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving Shouyou to laugh because both of them knew there was nowhere for Kageyama to escape to.
It was this what Shouyou thought about when he got called from the MSBY’s coaches to introduce himself even though they all knew who he was. It was Kageyama’s sleepy face he thought about when they announced the beginning of the game. And it was the image of Kageyama waiting for him outside, pacing and almost bumping into others because he was just as nervous as himself, when they announced him he was going to be a Black Jackals player. His mind was filled with memories of Kageyama while he showered, while he got dressed in the locker room.
Everyone else had already left, and only his old friends hung around to talk to him.
“Shouyou!” Bokuto said loudly as he always did, slapping his still bare back and leaving a red, stinging mark. “Why didn’t you ask? You could’ve stayed at my place!”
“Well, I didn’t want to bother you…” he explained, scratching the back of his neck when he thought that by doing so he wouldn’t have slept with a certain Schweiden Adlers player.
Atsumu-san joined them and slapped his shoulder too. “Bother us? Dude, yer our teammate.”
“I wasn’t yesterday,” Shouyou pinpointed as he wore his hoodie on.
“Whaaat? We knew you’d make it! We even organized a surprise welcome-party for you!”
“Bokuto, you howl head!” Atsumu-san yelled at the former ace of the Fukurodani. “It’s called surprise welcome-party for a reason!”
Shouyou was caught between surprise and excitement. “Do you guys… did you really do this for me?!”
“Of course! Remember? You’re my disciple!” Bokuto threw his head back and laughed loudly, as everything he did.
“Why don’t you learn something from your disciple and go to shower before you leave a trail of stinky smell behind you?” Sakusa-san said, not even caring to look at Bokuto when talking to him, and kept cleaning his locker instead. “Smelly people aren’t allowed at the party.”
“Ahhh Omi-kun, you meanie! I’ll go, I’ll go!”
Sakusa-san swiftly dodged Bokuto as he walked by him.
“Don’t leave without me, okay?” It was the last thing Bokuto said before closing the door behind him with a bang.
“Regarding the party…” Shouyou began, sheepishly. “Can I bring someone?”
“Woah, Hinata-kun!” Atsumu-san elbowed him. “Yer already makin’ yerself comfortable in Osaka?”
Shouyou grew more and more embarrassed by every word. “Actually, he’s one of your old acquaintances.”
“Who—” Atsumu-san began, but then he guessed who he was almost immediately. “No way, Hinata-kun! Did you really bring our enemy here? Omi-kun, he’s already betraying us!”
This time Sakusa-san’s gaze drifted to Atsumu-san and it was so penetrating that Shouyou felt it almost as much as Atsumu-san, who actually shivered. “Why do you have to be as loud as Bokuto-san when he’s not around? Anyway, Hinata-san, you can bring whoever you want at your party. I don’t like him very much, but at least Kageyama-san is a very clean person,” he finished, giving a long look at Atsumu-san.
“I wish I could say he’s not always like this, but he is. You’ll get used to it.”
Shouyou didn’t really pay this any mind, he actually liked to be around them already. “Is the party at Sakusa-san’s place?” he asked and closed the zip of his duffle bag.
“It’s mine and Atsumu-san’s,” Sakusa-san explained before Atsumu-san could get there. “It’s the only reason why I can’t keep him out.”
“O-meany-kun. That’s how I should call ya,” Atsumu-san retorted.
To Shouyou, this dynamic seemed something ingrained in them.
Sakusa-san gave his back to Atsumu-san once again and finally closed his locker, throwing a paper towel in the can. “You can say whatever you want. Your words don’t affect me in the least.”
“I won’t shower—” Atsumu-san threatened, but Sakusa-san sounded scarier when he backfired, also because he looked at the setter from above his shoulder with cold eyes.
“Just try it and I’ll murder you.”
A shiver ran through Shouyou’s spine as he laced his shoes. He looked up to Atsumu-san and saw that besides everything he seemed like he was enjoying himself.
“Nah, it’d be a mess of evidence to clean up.”
“I know everything on how to wash away blood stains.”
Before Atsumu-san could reply and come up with a new retort, Shouyou thought it was better to go outside and have a moment alone with Kageyama, so he said he was going to precede them and left the room in a rush. He still caught the plea of Atsumu-san when he said, ‘Hinata-kun, don’t leave me alone with him! He’ll murder me!”, but Shouyou was sure that wasn’t going to happen.
Running through the corridors, hoping to not get stopped by someone to chat, he finally came out of the doors and the moment his eyes found Kageyama, he couldn’t suppress anymore the urge to tackle him, to glomp him, so that’s what he did. He threw himself at Kageyama, locking his arms and legs around his neck and waist, not caring for anyone who was passing by nor what Kageyama would think.
“How did it go?” Kageyama’s hands were hovering over his back, Shouyou felt it in the faint presence of fingertips tapping his spine.
“We’re rivals again!” Shouyou shouted out, probably deafening Kageyama’s left ear for a second.
Only then did Kageyama’s arms circle his body and hug him tightly, hands fisting his jacket, face buried in the crook of Shouyou’s neck. He didn’t want to break the embrace he longed for years, but at the same time he had to do something much greater and scarier. He tapped gently on Kageyama’s shoulder and dropped down on his feet, but that was the only part of him that wasn’t closer to the other man’s body. His hands were cupping Kageyama’s face, fingers traced his jawline and cheekbones while his eyes searched deep blue ones. “Do you want to be my rival and my boyfriend?”
Surprisingly—or maybe not surprisingly in the least—Kageyama wasn’t taken aback by Shouyou’s question. Instead, he grabbed him by the collar and whispered back right on Shouyou’s lips. “Thought you’d never ask.”
And with that, they kissed with a hunger they had only for volleyball, their mouths greedy, as Shouyou opened his to lick at Kageyama’s, and the latter invited him in with no resistance. Everything in them was saying more, as Shouyou had asked for Kageyama to toss to him, as Kageyama had always challenged him.
A hand flew to grip Shouyou’s hair and he had to stop kissing his boyfriend to fully feel the sensation of Kageyama fondling his locks.
Hazy eyes watched him as he opened his own.
“The others. A celebration party, for me. Would you come?” Shouyou said out of breath. He wasn’t even sure he could make full sentences anymore.
Kageyama hummed a yes and Shouyou was just going to kiss him again when Kageyama took a step back and pointed a finger right at his face. “Don’t lose faith in my boyfriend ever again, understood?”
Shouyou smirked and avoided his finger to kiss him on the lips again, hand searching for Kageyama’s and interlacing their fingers together. “Loud and clear, Bossy-Yama.”
How he was going to make Kageyama regret what he just said. He would pester him with bragging for the rest of their lives.