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In their first year, it’s promises and fights and the thought not even crossing their minds.
In their second, it’s stolen glances and the slightest touches and a blush they pretend isn’t there despite the chuckles from their teammates.
In their third, it’s doing everything they can not to disrupt the team, their friendship. It’s terrifying thoughts of “what if”.
And just when Tobio decides that yes he does in fact like him and no he won’t tell him, too afraid to lose what he already has, Shouyou tumbles.
It’s not the sound of a soft, well-cushioned fall. It’s not the sound of laughter after he scrambles up from the ground, amused by his own clumsiness.
It’s the sound of bones meeting the hard gym floor followed by the one sound Tobio never wants to hear from him; silence.
Hinata lays there, just lays there. In the middle of a game. Only once has kageyama seen something like that from him before.
He thinks all the way back to their very first nationals. All the way back to the only game Hinata never got to finish. All the way back to the crushed look on his usually high-spirited partner. All the way back to Hinata’s sobs when he’d checked on him that night. All the way back to his small, scorching hands grabbing at him, holding him tight as if he needed a reminder that it’d be okay. All the way back to the first signs Kageyama might actually like him as more than a friend.
His feet move before his mind catches up to them. He crouches over him. His partner, his best friend, his sunshine, his Shouyou.
Suddenly, there’s a boom of action around him. He hears Takeda gasping, he hears Ukai yelling for a medic, he sees a Yachi running to get one. Somewhere behind him he hears Tsukishima wince and the sound of Yamaguchi sprinting towards them.
“Hinata!” their captain shouts, “oh my god” some first-year whispers.
There’s more people around them now, crowding them, whispering concerned words that mean absolutely nothing. It’s confining, it’s stifling, it’s too much.
Tobio hears yelling and wincing from across the net, from up in the stands. It’s becoming louder and louder and louder and—
“BACK OFF”
He barely even realizes he’s yelling, barely registers his hand instinctively covering Hinata, barely even sees the shock in his amber eyes.
A heavy hand brings him back, Yamaguchi squeezing his shoulder ever so slightly.
“It’s okay, ‘yama,” he whispers before turning to their teammates. “Give them some space, guys.”
Tobio sees him walk up to the refs, sees him explain the situation to the other teams captain.
Finally, tobio hears what he wanted to hear.
Though laced with pain, Hinata chuckles. He looks Tobio right in the eyes and finally takes his hand, still held protectively over Hinata’s chest, to hoist himself up with his good arm. He winces, of course he does with the way that arm’s hanging, but he still manages a smirk.
“They could’ve helped, you know?” he says, just quiet enough so only Tobio can hear.
He feels the heat rising to his cheeks, feels the giddy feeling in his stomach. He feels the air becoming drier around him, the silence settling in between them. He sees Hinata’s smirk fade into something… different.
But somehow, it doesn’t bother him. He couldn’t care less that he’s acting totally flustered right now.
So what if he likes Hinata? So what if that’s super embarrassing? So what if everyone with eyes can see it now? So what if Hinata can see it now?
He takes a deep breath, “I didn’t want them to,” he whispers.
It only takes 0.5 seconds for his brain to finally catch up with his body.
WHY had he said that? What was he thinking? Scratch that, what was Hinata thinking?
Oh god he practically told him he didn’t want anyone to help him while he just dislocated his shoulder.
He searches his face for any signs of discomfort. Well besides the discomfort of, you know, a dislocated fucking shoulder.
Hinata doesn’t look angry or upset. It’s a look that kageyama can’t quite place. Shock? No not that. Hell if anything, Tobio’s the shocked one.
Hinata reaches for him, his fingers grazing his hand before falling back down. He looks ready to speak, ready to demand an explanation. One Tobio is determined to give him. He takes a deep breath.
“Hinata-”
“Medic’s here!”
The following week is torturous.
It’s hearing Hinata cry softly when he thinks no one is in the changing room. It’s seeing the tough act he puts on crumble the moment their teammates leave. It’s knowing he doesn’t want him to know he’s hurt.
It’s bad that Hinata’s in pain. It’s worse that Kageyama can’t do anything about it.
He’s going to do something about it.
After a couple of minutes of watching Hinata fail to put on his shirt normally after practice—he insisted on changing into practice gear, even if he wasn’t playing— Tobio decides it’s enough.
“Come here dumbass,” he demands. And a curious Shouyou obliges. Kageyama ignores the storm of butterflies smashing his insides to pulp as he helps his friend, yes friend, into his clothes.
Hinata smiles then, the smallest, most earth-shattering smile.
After that something changes.
It’s no longer denying themselves the rush of touches that linger a little too long. It’s no longer jerking back when their fingers accidentally brush. It’s not even freezing when Tsukishima calls them out on it all.
Instead, it’s Tobio helping Shouyou whenever he can. You know, for dislocated shoulder reasons.
It’s washing his unfairly soft curls, it’s scratching his head as he does so. It’s shouyou relaxing under his touch. It’s their team watching them with the biggest grins on their face
And Tobio wouldn’t have it any other way.
So what if he likes Hinata? So what if everyone with eyes can see it now? So what if he stares a little too hard or holds his hand a little too long after a high five?
He’s not embarrassed, not anymore. Not when he catches Hinata doing the same damn thing. Not when he finally acts on three years of suppressed feelings. Not when everyone finally leaves the club room after Hinata’s first practice back and he finally plants a kiss on his c blossom pink lips.
Tobio can’t help but reflect on it all.
Their first year, promises and fights and the thought not even crossing their minds.
Their second, stolen glances and the slightest touches and a blush they pretend isn’t there despite the chuckles from their teammates.
And finally their third, stubbornly refusing to give in to their feelings, refusing to prove everyone right.
Flailing and blushing and pining until finally, their feelings literally come crashing down on them.