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“You know, if I have something on my face you can just tell me. You don’t have to stare at it like you’re gonna murder it.”
Hinata sticks his tongue out, reaching it for the speck of rice that’s made purchase at the corner of his mouth and eats it. He grins as if he’s just accomplished some kind of long-term goal, brown eyes big and bright and clueless as all hell.
“Tastes just as delicious as the rest of it.”
Kageyama sighs.
“I don’t think that’s what he was staring at,” Tsukishima pipes from across the table. He’s smirking knowingly at Kageyama. Of course he’d notice, the bastard. He was as perceptive off of the court as he was on it. Kageyama’s eyes dart over to Yamaguchi who isn’t as concerned as he’s stuffing his own face with rice.
“Shut up,” is all Kageyama gives the blond in response.
Practice ended over and hour ago, earlier than normal because Takeda-sensei lent the practice gym to the girls’ volleyball club since their gym was undergoing renovations. Kageyama thanks the goddesses that tonight was the last night for that. Either way, Hinata had groaned annoyingly about the lack of practice making him hungry and Yamaguchi had agreed. Which led to the four of them sharing a hot pot and rice at a place not far from the Foothill Store.
Hinata eats an alarming rate, practically inhaling his rice and taking more than his fair share with every dip his chopsticks make into the hotpot. Kageyama narrows his eyes at him dangerously in warning. As usual, it doesn’t take much more than that.
Hinata starts to pipe up the way he does, undoubtedly about to say something he’ll recant as soon as Kageyama takes him by the top of his head, but he doesn’t get the chance because his phone starts to vibrate with a call.
“Crap! I have to go! I forgot I told kaa-san I’d look after Natsu tonight! See you guys tomorrow!”
In a whirlwind of black and orange, he’s out the door and soon after, biking past their window in the direction of his house. The remaining three watch in stunned silence even after he’s out of sight before Tsukishima breaks in with, “You realize he hasn’t paid for his portion of food, right?”
The question is quite clearly directed at Kageyama who can only sigh in response. Of course he didn’t, that dumbass bastard. Normally Hinata’s either one or the other but not this time. This time he was both a bastard and a dumbass and Kageyama would be sure to inform him of it first thing tomorrow morning. This was his milk money the redhead was cutting into.
Yamaguchi stands and stretches, the hem of his white practice shirt rising slightly to reveal a slither of freckled skin across his lower abdomen. As Kageyama pulls money from his pockets, he notices Tsukishima’s eyes lingering over Yamaguchi’s hips a little longer than necessary and smirks.
“I’m going to the restroom,” Yamaguchi announces before making his way toward the back of the small restaurant, humming and leaving Tsukishima and Kageyama to glare boredly at one another.
“It’s too bad Hinata’s such a mess when he eats,” the blond starts with a disgusting grin. Kageyama’s eyes narrow warningly. “Mostly too bad for you, that is, considering the look you get in your eyes every time he flicks his tongue out to catch food.” Kageyama’s back stiffens like he’s receiving a particularly nasty serve. He starts to respond but Tsukishima’s still talking.
“It’s barbaric, really. But it makes sense that you’re into it, I guess.”
Kageyama’s giving him a look that’s been tailor-made for the boy across from him over the last two and a half years. Everyone who’s been around them knows it well. Tsukishima especially knows it. There was a time when Kageyama would get angry, throw out the first insult to come to his mind, but he’s different now; they’re different now. Tsukishima is more of a challenge than an annoyance these days… Well, that wasn’t really true, but sometimes they’d pretend.
“Is it the freckles or is it how toned he’s gotten in the last year or so?” Kageyama asks leisurely. The taller boy’s eye narrow almost as dangerously as Kageyama’s had.
“Excuse me?”
“Yamaguchi. Is it his freckles that you’re you’re staring at when you think no one’s looking or is it the definition he’s developed over his abdomen? He’s been working really hard since second year… Everyone’s noticed.”
A beat passes. And then another one. And quite a few more as they just stare at each other, challenging one another. Until Tsukishima finally relaxes and shrugs.
“It’s not like I’m keeping it from him, necessarily. I just don’t see the point of it. I’d probably tell him if I had to.”
Kageyama doesn’t understand this, but he refuses to say as much. Tsukishima gives him enough shit about his inability to understand some things that aren’t volleyball so he knows that saying so would just gain him a retort he’s already heard a thousand times before. But if the blond was genuinely interested in Yamaguchi, Kageyama didn’t get why that wouldn’t be something Tsukishima could tell him… He can hear Yamaguchi humming from the back of the restaurant and smirks as he gets closer.
“Why don’t you tell him now, then?”
It’s been awhile since he’s seen a flustered Tsukishima and it only makes his smirk widen. He sees flustered Tsukki so few and far between that Kageyama wishes he could take a photo of it, right here and now.
The blond glares at him, then glances at Yamaguchi, who’s taking his sweet time in making his way back to the table. Then Tsukishima flippantly responds, “Telling him something like that with you here would ruin whatever moment that could be had. So, no.”
And Kageyama sits back in smug amusement as an oblivious Yamaguchi comes back and rejoins them. Tsukishima could dress up his reasoning all he wants, but Kageyama knows.
He knows.
They only sit there for another five minutes before deciding that they’re done. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi pay separately for their food while Kageyama pays for his own and Hinata’s. He was going to give him an earful about it later, but for now he settles for grumbling about it under his breath--much to the amusement of his companions.
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Kageyama’s room is never clean these days, it drives him insane. But he never has the time, or the energy by the time he gets home, to clean it. But tonight, when he storms in the door, he’s filled to the brim with exuberance so he starts to tidy up immediately.
It’s much more of a hindrance than a help, he realizes, as he angrily tosses scattered clothes and shoes toward his closet--which is just a different area of floor. He’s really just moving the mess from one side of the room to the other. But he can’t stop thinking about Tsukishima’s shitty face; his shitty, knowing face that seems to think he has Kageyama figured out. Kageyama launches a shoe across the room and it hits the wall with a refreshing thud. He pretends it’s Tsukishima’s face.
When his phone vibrates from under a pile atop his bed, he digs it out to see who’s bothering him. Of course it’s Hinata, it’s rarely anyone else. It’s a picture of his jersey laid out on his bed (surrounded by a bunch of other random things like a calculator, a shoe, the edges of what looks like a pile of clothes… Kageyama just shakes his head). Another text comes in soon after:
i don’t like the way the 3 looks kageyama. it’s kinda crooked.
Kageyama snarls as he presses a quick reply back:
Someone else already has the 10 jersey. Get over it.
He knows Hinata’s pouting, but he doesn’t have to wait long for a reply.
fine!!! anyway, what are you doing?
Kageyama doesn’t text him back, instead tossing it back on the bed to resume his ‘cleaning’.
His mind lingers on the imagery of Hinata pouting, which makes him think of his lips and that’s a thought process that Kageyama doesn’t need to get into. But still, they’re always so reddish pink and cute and very rarely closed. Kageyama especially likes when they do that little ‘o’ shape thing he does in thought or when something’s dawning on him, though it always leads to Kageyama thinking about how they’d look around his--
His phone vibrates again from the bed again and he strides over in annoyance, ready to tell Hinata off over the damn jersey for the tenth time this week.
I’m sure I’ll confess to Yamaguchi before you confess to Hinata. Which means, of course, that I’ll never have to.
It’s a text message from Tsukishima and if the text itself doesn’t piss him off, the little ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ he sends with it is more than enough. Kageyama takes the high road, deciding not to reply. Then his phone vibrates again.
I know you’re slow to understand so I’ll elaborate: I mean you’ll never tell him.
At this point, all thoughts of Kageyama being the bigger person go out the door.
You’re on, ShittyShima. I’ll confess before you and you can--
He tries to think of a good way to end the message and then lamely adds:
go to hell.
Once it’s sent, Kageyama wonders why he lets the blond get to him so easily, especially considering what he’s just gotten himself into. Now he’ll have to confess to Hinata. He was going to have to confess to Hinata that he liked him; liked his dumbass personally, and his ridiculous face. Though Hinata had grown so much in just two short years. Not so much in height, but he’d grown more into his thin limbs. There was more definition to his arms now, his calves, and even his thighs were thicker now, stronger. Kageyama’s found himself letting his eyes drift over the redhead’s legs whenever he goes up for tosses or during receiving practice, where the muscles there are taut and sturdy.
The redhead has certainly grown into himself. Hinata’s even received confessions here and there from girls at school, only to let them down gently because he just doesn’t have the focus, what with trying to keep good grades and spending a lot of his time and energy on volleyball. Kageyama has only witnessed two confessions to Hinata; one in their second year, and one just a few weeks ago at the start of their third year. Each time, although denied, the girls left with smiles on their faces. Hinata’s flirtatiousness made it easy for him to let them down gently and they never seemed to feel bad about themselves. Kageyama stiffens as he remembers.
Hinata has refused every confession he’s ever gotten. So why wouldn’t he refuse Kageyama’s as well? He drags his hands down his face and falls backward onto his bed, forgetting about cleaning up his clothes and leaning more toward burying himself in them forever.
He was screwed
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The next day they’re all in the club room changing for practice, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi on the other side of the room and Hinata right next to him. They’re always the first to arrive, first to be dressed, and the first to start practicing. He catches a glimpse of a shirtless Hinata out of the corner of his eye and pauses a beat, his eyes trying to memorize every curve and contour of new muscle before he’s interrupted.
“Enjoying the view, King?”
Kageyama slams his locker shut and leaves the club room with a snarl, Tsukishima’s snicker heard distantly as he slams the door behind him.
Now conscious of Tsukishima’s eyes on him at all times, he avoids looking at Hinata for the remainder of practice. Even at times when he needs to look at Hinata he doesn’t, which leads to a lot of missed tosses on his part. Hinata just looks at him in confusion after a few dropped balls and Kageyama couldn’t be more grateful. There have been practices like this in the past, where Kageyama just wasn’t feeling well or wasn’t mentally present at practice. Mostly over school or something to do with his parents--and always something he shares with Hinata (albeit reluctantly). So the shorter boy doesn’t yell about it and won’t even ask him about it, Kageyama assumes, until later. Tsukishima’s not as considerate.
“Maybe we should give one of the first years your spot, King. You’re losing your touch.”
Kageyama scowls.
As predicted, after practice Hinata walks up to Kageyama with a serious expression--which is unfamiliar--and reaches a hand up to Kageyama’s head. Kageyama rolls his eyes when he realizes that Hinata’s trying to grab his head the same way he does to the redhead when he’s reprimanding him. Kageyama easily swats his hand away.
“Cut it out, dumbass.”
“Well, tell me what your problem is!”
“I don’t have one.”
“Certainly seems like you d--”
Hinata’s phone vibrates twice, distracting him from his interrogation. When he flips it open his face brightens considerably. Kageyama pouts suspiciously.
“It’s Kenma! He’s--”
Kageyama doesn’t listen much after that. He’s indifferent toward the former Nekoma setter who’s now in his first year at a university in Tokyo, with roommates who annoy him, and who apparently has the latest POP strategy game. Okay so maybe he’s listening a little. Only because he always tries to distinguish what kind of relationship Hinata has with Kenma that’s kept them texting so often since his and Hinata’s first year.
“Looks like you may be too late, King,” Tsukishima says from behind him, walking over as Hinata walks ahead, eyes trained on the white screen of his phone.
A vein ticks over Kageyama’s temple.
Yamaguchi’s still at the gym doors, talking animatedly to a couple of first years. They seem to love him for some reason or another. Kageyama tilts his head in interest and Tsukishima’s eyes follow his before glaring back at him again.
“I see you haven’t confessed to him yet,” Kageyama tosses casually.
“Why do I need to?” Tsukishima asks just as casually. He jerks his head in Hinata’s direction, smirking. “What’s the rush?”
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That night, when all the first years have cleaned and have changed, Kageyama offers begrudgingly to lock up the clubroom and gym for the night in the hopes that Hinata will just leave without him.
As usual when it comes to things considering Hinata, he’s wrong. He locks the gym doors and starts up the stairs to the clubroom. The first years this year are messy and Kageyama thinks about lining them up tomorrow as their senpai and vice-captain and punching each of them in the head, one at a time. For tonight, he picks up the towels and shirts shrewn about as Hinata helps.
“Are you done talking to your boyfriend?” Kageyama asks through pursed lips out of the blue. He really had no intention of mentioning it, but the question was burning at the forefront of his mind. He didn’t want to continue to play the guessing game with Kenma and Hinata so he just decided to ask.
Hinata, in all his cuteness, looks up at him confusion. “Boyfriend?” He thinks about it before realization dawns over his features. “Oooh, Kenma. Wait--Kenma? You think Kenma is my boyfriend?”
Kageyama expects him to laugh with the incredulous tone he’s taken, but Hinata still doesn’t seem to understand. So Kageyama explains for him.
“You’re always on the phone with him and you two were always talking closely at training camps we did with Nekoma before he went to university. It just seemed like…”
He trails off, going quiet and glaring at his shoes. Poor things never did anything to him, but he couldn’t really turn his eyes anywhere else at the moment. Even so, he could feel Hinata watching him closely.
“Are you jealous, Kageyama?”
Kageyama’s eyes snap up, ready to bark at the joke, but the look on Hinata’s face tells him that it’s not a joke at all. He’s never seen Hinata so serious… He’s not sure that he likes it.
“I might be,” he answers sullenly. He’s too tired to lie.
The redhead doesn’t move, seems frozen in time even--except for his mouth, which moves silently to do that little ‘o’ thing that Kageyama thinks about so much. Of course he’d do that at a time like this. But then he’s moving forward, eyes fierce and face flushed with determination. It causes such a change in the atmosphere that Kageyama almost staggers back in his bewilderment. He’s backed up to a locker and Hinata’s on him in an instant, his face looming closer as he leans upward on the balls of his feet, a small hand hooking itself over the back of Kageyama’s head.
He doesn’t have time to think or even catch his breath before Hinata’s lips are on his, soft and tentative, kissing him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. But all too soon, it’s over.
“You don’t have to be jealous, Kageyama.”
The taller boy splutters words unattractively, trying to add up his thoughts but none really string together. Finally he says, “But all of those confessions… From those girls… You said you didn’t have the time, the focus--”
“That’s because all of my focus has been on you. But I never--well, I never thought I could just tell you that!”
There’s the bit of the Hinata he knows (and likes), he thinks with a growing smirk.
“Well maybe don’t be such a dumbass.”
At this, Hinata tries again to reach up and grab Kageyama’s head but instead of swatting it away, this time Kageyama takes him and pushes him against the locker. He never even had to conventionally confess and still--here he is, kissing Hinata like it’s something they’ve been doing for years. It just fits that well.
And they don’t stop for almost an hour until Kageyama’s phone vibrates and he sees a text from Tsukishima, Hinata peering at it over his shoulder.
Next time, lock the door at least.
Two heads swivel toward the entrance of clubroom to find the door cracked open, forgotten. Tsukishima must have come back for something… Kageyama smirks widely, hardly paying attention as Hinata about how creepy it is when he gets that look in his eyes, and sends a simple reply.
I win.