Chapter Text
CHAPTER ONE: A Dangerous Promise
“I can’t believe it’ll be over after this year,” Hinata sighed.
And something in Kageyama’s chest burst, just a teeny tiny bit. Because he hadn’t thought about it.
Actually, that wasn’t true.
He had thought about it. He just didn’t want to come to terms with the truth; that he would actually have to say goodbye to the team later this year. Say goodbye to the halls he’d walked aimlessly until it was time for volleyball. Goodbye to the gym that had been his home for the past three years. Say goodbye to the wooden floors that had scraped his knees and elbows until they were bloody. Say goodbye to the clubroom whose walls had heard all the secrets he’d silently spilled there. Say goodbye to the vending machine outside that had just the right brand of milk cartons.
Hell, he couldn’t even believe he’d have to say goodbye to that one broom Asahi and Nishinoya broke before Kageyama had even been there, a broom so significant to his first Karasuno team. A team that had been broken until it was mended.
He couldn’t believe that he’d have to say goodbye to it all. But most of all, he couldn’t believe that he’d have to say goodbye to this human tangerine that he’d come to lo- tolerate .
This absolute whirlpool of a boy that had sucked him right in, dragged him along in his current, his highs and his lows, his cries and his laughs.
God , his laughs.
If there was one thing Kageyama would miss it’d be the way Hinata’s laugh lit up every room he walked into. A laugh so earnest and true that it was comforting. A laugh so bubbly and bright you couldn’t help but join in.
And not just those big, boisterous laughs.
Kageyama would miss every single little smile that only he knew. The ones reserved specifically for rainy days spent in the gym perfecting their already frightening freak quick. The ones that came as exertion made way for exhaustion. The ones that were pleased, pure . The ones that were always followed by a “God, Kageyama, you’re just so awesome ” in a tone that made Kageyama’s heart flutter and his cheeks redden. The ones that were filled with something that could only be described as affection, even if Kageyama didn’t want to get his hopes up.
Not that he had hopes , of course. That’d be absolutely ridiculous .
Kageyama looked at the spiker sitting contendly on his left. His eyes were closed, a small smile tugging at his slightly shiny lips. It was a sight Kageyama knew well, one he perhaps even mirrored. It was one of satisfaction, earned after hours of practice. When their palms stung with the effort they’d put in. When their burning lungs served as a reminder for how hard they’d worked.
Only Hinata’s amber eyes were hidden. Kageyama’s weren’t – couldn’t possibly when that meant he’d lose the sight before him.
If Kageyama tried he could count the hundred tiny freckles dusted across rosy pink cheeks and upturned nose, which was slightly crooked – only because of one of the many times Hinata had received the ball with his face instead of his hands.
Kageyama looked, really looked , at the boy he had the pleasure of calling his friend. The boy he’d called a lot of other things over the years. The boy he wanted to call so much more.
He was ethereal . But Kageyama couldn’t possibly tell him that, could he?
He couldn’t even begin to describe Hinata’s beauty – wouldn’t know where to start. Wouldn’t know how to properly convey all these things the boy made him feel. Because if he was honest, they made absolutely no sense to him.
He didn’t understand why his stomach swooped when he caught Hinata swiping a stray strand of overly long copper curls from his forehead. He didn’t get why his chest nearly burst with how hard his heart beat against it with every smile Hinata sent his way. It wasn’t like Kageyama wasn’t smiled at by other people. So then why?
There was so much he wanted to say, so much more Hinata deserved to hear. But Kageyama had never prided himself on his way with words.
“Yeah,” he sighed before frowning, “but you do know I can still toss to you, dumbass.”
He felt his heart clench, he knew that wasn’t entirely true. He knew he would get signed into the league right away. He knew exactly where the letters outlining the offers were scattered on the floor of his ever-cluttered room and he knew he would get so caught up in his new team and training regimen that he couldn’t play with Hinata again. Not for a while.
Hinata looked at him with those big amber eyes, light pouring into them as if they were the only things worthy of the sun’s attention, and he sighed. He knew it too.
“Yeah,” he whispered as his head fell back against the wall with a soft ‘thump’ , “we had a good run, you know?” he added.
Kageyama smiled – one of the many things Hinata had helped him with – as a sense of nostalgia settled over him. “Yeah,” he said.
“Remember when you taught me how to receive?” Hinata snickered.
“Suga-san taught you how to receive, dumbass,” Kageyama countered.
Hinata rolled his eyes, “yes but you actually made me want to do it,” he said before nudging his elbow against Kageyama’s ribs. “Do you know how scary it is to flub a receive with your eyes glued to my every move?”
Kageyama felt himself flush with realization. His eyes probably were glued to Hinata’s every move – in a totally volleyball-related way, of course. But that did not mean he had actually wanted Hinata to figure that out. He panicked a little, resorting to the two things that always seemed to shield him from embarrassment; sarcasm and teasing.
“Do you know how scary it is to know you’ll be the one receiving the ball at set point?” he snickered.
He got another elbow for the comment – not entirely undeserved, he thought – though the slight sting of Hinata’s angry, pointed bone was undoubtedly better than the sting of humiliation he would’ve felt otherwise.
“Anyways,” Hinata said, eyes narrowing slightly as he faked his irritation so bad that Kageyama nearly laughed at him, “thanks for teaching me.”
Kageyama felt the treacherous heat climb up to his face once again. He scrambled for words to distract himself – or moreso, Hinata – from noticing the blotches of red on his cheeks.
“I honestly don’t know if I taught you that but thank god someone did, because your receives were downright criminal,” he said.
The elbow was replaced with a fist this time. Again, not entirely undeserved. It wasn’t like Kageyama meant to be an asshole. But he reasoned that the feeling of small hands hammering away at his chest felt much better than the embarrassment of blushing over Hinata – while he was there – would.
Kageyama grunted, prompting Hinata to trade his tireless punches for his even less tireless arguing. He let out the most exaggerated gasps Kageyama had ever heard.
“As if your behavior during our first year wasn’t,” he said.
And all the memories came rushing in. Their first fight, when they hadn’t even met the rest of the team yet. Their big fight, pushing each other, literally, before pushing each other past their limits. The first time they won a match and the first time they lost one. That time Kageyama snapped over one too many missed spikes, revealing all the pent up frustration and loneliness and fear that he’d been carrying around since middle school. When he started ripping at the seams only for Hinata to stitch him back together, crown him, assure him, convince him that he wasn’t alone anymore. That everyone else could go to hell. That he could be a new king, a better one.
Kageyama thought of the first time they did the quick they were now infamous for, Hinata yelling “I’m here” and his body just responding like it had been made to do so, like it was just waiting for that one person to come and find him.
He thought of the first time they made it to nationals, the tears in their seniors’ eyes when they realized they’d done it. The countless, countless hours of back-breakingly hard work and dedication followed by so many days of laughter and tears and screams of both joy and despair. He thought of the first time they’d had to say goodbye, the first time they became the seniors. He thought of everything that had come after it.
Kageyama didn’t often acknowledge it, but he held each and every one of these memories dear. These moments were seared into his brain, and he’d treasure them forever. After all, his years at Karasuno had shaped him into the person he was now. They’d given him so much more than he could have ever dreamed of. And now they were coming to an end.
He couldn’t quite bring himself to dwell on that longer and so he grinned. “Fine, but I got better, didn’t I?” he said.
Hinata’s eyes widened as he looked at him with a new sort of offended branded on his face, “as opposed to?”
Kageyama made a face that apparently warranted a shove.
“My receives got better!” Hinata yelled.
Kageyama had to resist the urge to squeeze his cheeks, round and freckled and still slightly sweaty as they caught the light in just the right way. He found it adorable, how worked up Hinata could get over things like this.
“Sure they did,” he said.
Hinata huffed and gave him one last stink eye before trying to find a topic of conversation that wouldn’t end with his dignity in shambles.
“You taught me so much,” he said eventually, the fondest look plastered on his sun-kissed face.
God , Kageyama wanted to kiss that face. He also wanted to slap that face. It was a confusing time for him.
Besides, he couldn’t really remember anything he actually had taught Hinata. But the boy looked content and that was all that mattered. Still, he did really want to know what Hinata considered things he’d taught him.
“Like what?” he asked.
Hinata’s face took on a shade of red that horribly clashed with his hair as he pouted, “guaaah, you can’t just ask a guy that, blunt-yama!!” he sputtered.
“What does that even–”
“You’re gonna make me get all sappy and stuff about our time together coming to an end,” Hinata interrupted.
But Kageyama had already mentally checked out because Hinata’s hand was on his mouth and it was warm and a little salty and way, way too close.
The calluses of his small fingers, that had formed with years of continuously beating the crap out of volleyballs, were on his lips and he could feel the rough skin laying leisurely on his, he could taste it.
Oh dear god.
He scrambled his brain trying to come up with something to say but all Japanese vocabulary seemed to have chosen that specific moment to flee his brain. Luckily for him, Hinata never ran out of words.
“I wish I could’ve taught you something,” the spiker sighed.
That wasn’t what Kageyama wanted to hear, it wasn’t right. Hinata had taught him so much. He’d taught him life-changing things. Like that there were people out there who shared his passion, that he wasn’t alone, that he had people he could count on, that he was capable of making friends.
Hinata had taught him municipal things, too, like how to get out of detention, how to braid hair, how to pick the best melons in the store, how to play videogames – though not very well.
It amounted to one very apparent fact, though, Kageyama thought. Hinata had taught him how to live, really live.
Oh how he wished he had the words to tell him that. Instead, he inwardly cringed at the “you already have,” that managed to come out of his throat.
Hinata smiled at it anyway, though a little reservedly.
“Well, how about you teach me something else then?” Kageyama asked carefully, not entirely sure where he was going with this.
But it seemed to work as Hinata’s face got visibly brighter, “really?” he asked excitedly, “okay! Like what?”
Come on Kageyama, think .
He glanced at Hinata again, hoping to find answers. But the expectant look in Hinata’s eyes only made him struggle to think even more. He’d fallen into that honey-brown trap one too many times and this was no exception. He looked up and down and sideways, racking his brain until finally he thought of something decent.
“Uhh. Maybe… Maybe you can teach me how to smile?” he tried.
Hinata laughed, loud and sweet, and the sound seemed to echo through the gym infinitely. It shook Kageyama more than he wanted to admit, the sheer happiness wrapped into two simple tones.
“See, your smile is great,” he said.
Hinata looked almost offended. “First of all, that was a laugh, dumbass,” he said. “Huh, maybe you really do have a lot to learn from me.”
Kageyama scoffed, but couldn’t help but smile just a little, “maybe I do.”
Suddenly, something dawned on him. Something huge and horrifying, something he couldn’t possibly allow to happen.
If Hinata taught him how to smile he would have to demonstrate, wouldn’t he? He would get all up in Kageyama’s space the way he always did without realizing the reaction it got out of him. His perfect pout would part and the sheer joy of his expression would smack Kageyama like a freight-train. Oh god, there was absolutely no way he wouldn’t have a visceral reaction to Hinata smiling at him up-close and personal again, and again, and again.
Kageyama couldn’t have that. Abso-fucking-lutely not. He’d rather stay stuck with a slightly scary expression– that had gotten better, thank you very much– than potentially blushing in front of Hinata.
What if he saw? What if he made fun of him or laughed or worse, what if he ran away? No, no, no. Not happening, no way. But how was he going to get himself out of this one?
God, Kageyama, think.
“No, wait,” he started, letting out the biggest huff of feigned frustration he could manage, “if you teach me how to smile that means I lose to you. I’m not gonna lose to you,” he rattled.
He had to give props to Hinata who was only looking at him as if he was kinda crazy instead of the full on bat-shit crazy he felt.
“I’ll just teach myself how to smile by watching you do it,” he said.
Oh god, shit, fuck, that came out totally wrong, didn’t it? Oh god, he just told Hinata he’d watch him, hadn’t he? Oh god, he was getting flushed, wasn’t he? Oh god, oh god, oh god .
“I didn’t mean–”
“You’re really not going to teach me anything?” Hinata cut him off, bless him and his ever-active mouth. Kageyama felt himself calm down a little.
“No,” he shrugged.
Hinata swallowed before he started talking again. “Maybe you can teach me more things then,” he said, a little softer than before.
Kageyama had never seen or heard Hinata act like it, but he sounded almost… shy? Though any and all reasons as to why he’d act shy went right over Kageyama’s head.
“Things like what?” Kageyama said. It was curious, careful, just to test the waters.
And there it was again, a flushed expression that Kageyama could swear was a manifestation of nerves. Hinata took a moment to reply, facing the floor with an interest that made it seem like the wooden planks had been crafted by Hephaestus himself. But then, finally, his voice sounded again. Though nothing more than a whisper.
“You’re really popular, you know,” he started, “I can’t remember the last time a day went by without you getting swarmed by girls.”
Kageyama didn’t even try to hide his blush this time. It was true. And embarrassing. So very embarrassing because every time he rejected them, they looked like their heart got shattered into a million pieces. And every time he wanted to tell them it wasn’t that he didn’t like them but more that he didn’t like girls at all.
But he couldn’t really say that, could he?
He thought they’d stop eventually, that they’d slink away after Kageyama’s less-than-enthusiastic responses. After all, he never actually agreed to anything. For a moment, it looked like they would, but one tiny little lapse of judgment had landed him right back where he started.
He hadn’t meant to kiss the girl, he really, really hadn’t, but the team had just earned their ticket to nationals for the third time in a row and Yamaguchi certainly wasn’t the strictest captain they’d had concerning alcohol consumption during celebrations.
One thing led to another and before he knew it, he was in the overcrowded living room locking lips with a short redhead overflowing with energy. The girl had handed him drink after drink until her features had started to blend more and more into an image he sometimes dreamed about.
He hadn’t meant to kiss the girl. He’d meant to kiss the boy.
When all alcohol had been drained from Kageyama’s system – in no small part thanks to Yachi sticking her fingers down his throat – realization set in. He’d been so embarrassed that he hadn’t been able to look at Hinata for nearly a week until Yamaguchi forced them to work together in the name of “improving the quick”.
The quick was perfect. Tadashi was a little shit.
But Kageyama had convinced himself that he was fine after that. That his stupid crush was just that; stupid. That all he needed was to kiss someone else and that he’d be over it. That he wouldn’t dream of ginger locks bouncing against a slightly sunburned, sweaty forehead. That his eyes wouldn’t train on flexed thighs readying themselves for take-off.
God, he was in deep.
Suddenly he saw a hand flinging up and down in front of his eyes and he realized Hinata was still waiting for him to answer, unaware of the little trip into the abyss he’d taken.
“They don’t, I’m not that popular” Kageyama managed to croak out. But Hinata didn’t seem convinced.
“You are,” he said, “you don’t have to pretend you’re unpopular just because I am, it’s fine.” Hinata looked a little dejected – a way he should never, ever look if Kageyama could help it. And so, before his mind could catch up to his body, he put his hand on Hinata’s tucked-up knee and squeezed softly.
“You’re not unpopular, dumbass. All the guys love you,” he said.
I love you.
Hinata scoffed, “yeah, I’m sure all the guys want to go out with me and hold me and kiss me like something straight out of a rom-com. That’s not what I meant, Kageyama.”
I would absolutely love to
Kageyama wanted to tell him. He didn’t dare interrupt him, though.
“God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to turn this into a pity party it’s just–”
Kageyama saw Hinata get slightly redder than before, but he didn’t finish his sentence.
“What is it?” Kageyama asked.
“It’s stupid,” Hinata replied quickly.
“Everything you say is stupid, dumbass,” Kageyama argued. Hinata only whined a little, “you’re gonna laugh at me,” he said.
“Probably.”
He got punched in the arm for that, “ Kageyama ,” Hinata whined.
“What?” he laughed innocently.
“Don’t make me say it.”
Kageyama was absolutely going to make him say it. And the easiest way to make Hinata say something was to stay silent. Hinata did not like silence.
It took all but 30 seconds for him to break, a new personal record Kageyama was more than happy with.
“Ugh, fine,” he said, eyes nearly rolling out of his head, “but promise me you won’t laugh.”
“You literally just told me I would. I don’t make promises I’m not going to keep,” Kageyama argued. And for some reason that made Hinata smile.
The spiker hid his head behind his hands, “this is so embarrassing,” he said.
Kageyama rolled his eyes, “it’ll be even more embarrassing if I find out on my own. Out with it.”
That seemed to spur Hinata into action. He took a breath so deep Kageyama wondered how that much air could fit into a body that small.
“I’m a romantic,” Hinata finally admitted.
Kageyama tried to hold his laughter in, he really really did, but the look of shame and defeat on Hinata’s face was just too much.
“Bakayama! Don’t laugh at me!” Hinata huffed, the picture of indignity.
“I’m sorry,” Kageyama snorted, “but in what world is that news ?”
“I wasn’t done, you brick-headed buffoon,” Hinata scoffed, “I was gonna say I’m a romantic but I’ve never kissed anyone before and that kinda–”
Kageyama couldn’t hear much else as he, not for the first time that day, mentally checked out, arrived at the gates of heaven or hell– he hadn’t decided yet– and begged to be let in.
Where the hell was Hinata going with this? Hadn’t they been talking about teach– Oh dear god.
After faintly hearing Hinata ramble for what felt like eons, Kageyama finally found the courage to look down to him and became painfully aware of his hand still resting atop the boy's knee, which was now twitching nervously – something that Kageyama had only ever related to moments right before they stepped on court, as far as Hinata was concerned. Hinata didn’t do nervous, yet somehow, apparently, he did.
Kageyama had to stop him, he had to stop this boy from rambling before he would actually combust.
“Hinata,” he tried.
“Hinata?” he tried again. But still he got no answer.
“Hinata, dumbass,” he yelled.
And ah, that always worked like a charm.
“What?!” Hinata yelled back, finally letting his gaze settle on Kageyama’s. His cheeks were slightly redder than they had been before, whether that was from embarrassment, the lack of oxygen courtesy to his rambling or the sheer intensity of his yelling, Kageyama wasn’t quite sure.
“Were you going somewhere with this?” the setter asked.
Immediately, he felt the urge to slam his head against the brick wall he sat against. He didn’t want to know where Hinata was going with this. He didn’t want the something pounding in his abdomen to actually flutter so hard it’d destroy his insides, that would really tank his career. He didn’t want his friend to get more embarrassed, or worse, embarrass him. He didn’t want to get flustered over what-ifs. He didn’t want to get his hopes up. He didn’t think there were even hopes to get up.
But alas, as was usually the case, Hinata was quick to answer. Not that Kageyama could make out any of the words thrown together in his incoherent mumbling.
He looked at Hinata’s increasingly reddening face and interjected quickly, “what was that?” he said.
Hinata flinched as though he’d been struck but let his gaze fall on Kageyama nonetheless, “maybe you can…” he started. He paused for a second before huffing something out in one quick breath. “Teachmehowtokiss.”
“Huh?” Kageyama breathed. He wished he’d heard the boy better this time, but Hinata wasn’t making it an easy feat to accomplish.
He was getting visibly worked up now. “Fuck you, you can hear me perfectly fine,” he hissed. But Kageyama merely shook his head.
“I really, really can’t,” he said, “don’t be a baby, just say it again.”
“No,” Hinata huffed.
Kageyama rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Fine,” he said, “I guess I won’t help you with whatever is up your ass this evening.”
He got slapped for that, again. One of these days he was going to be walking around with Hinata-shaped bruises on his body, and not the good kind.
“Kageyama,” Hinata gasped, “you can’t just say stuff like that.”
“And you can’t just not say stuff like that,” he retorted, “say it again.”
“No, it’s embarrassing.” Hinata said.
Kageyama rolled his eyes again – he wondered if they’d get stuck like that if this conversation dragged on any longer, “everything you do is embarrassing,” he said eventually.
“It’s not!”
“It really is.”
“Fuck you.”
“Just tell me.”
“Fine.”
“Fine… Wait what?”
While Kageyama’s breath quickened, impossibly so, Hinata stopped tugging on the hem of his shirt, letting himself fall backwards against the cool wall.
“I’ll tell you,” he said, his rolling eyes not quite matching the slight timbre in his voice. He took a deep breath, though not quite as deep as before, and Kageyama couldn’t help but stare at the way his adam's apple bobbed up and down. God, he was a pervert wasn’t he?
“I was just wondering,” Hinata started, stubby fingers clutching at anything they could reach. Once again Kageyama was gobsmacked at the way he looked; nervous, shy, uncertain somehow. But then the fear in Hinata’s eyes made way for something else, something Kageyama couldn’t quite place.
He opened his mouth to speak again, more determined this time. “Since you have all this experience, I thought maybe you could teach me how to kiss,” he said, calmer and surer than anything he’d said during the entire half hour they’d been sitting on the gym floor.
Which was exactly the opposite of how Kageyama was doing.
Calm? He felt more like a tsunami just crashed into him and he was trying not to drown because what the hell? How would that even work?
His vocal cords emulated his brain perfectly as he stuttered out an unconvincing “I- Uhh,”
He wished his brain-to-mouth connection would just work , but all Kageyama could let out was incoherent gibberish. Actually, scratch that. Maybe it was for the best that that connection didn’t work, because his mind wandered to all the places he’d never allowed himself to go before. Soft, salty, plump lips on his, tongue darting out to lick at the seams; slightly callused hands caressing his face, holding onto his back or his neck or, dear god, his hair.
Kageyama felt himself flush an even hotter shade of red, all blood in his system apparently migrating to his quickly overheating cheeks. Suddenly, Hinata jerked up with the most horrified look on his face.
“Oh my god, I’m so so sorry,” he said, “I’m making you totally uncomfortable, aren’t I? You don’t have to. You can totally say no!” Hinata rambled.
“Hinata,” Kageyama said, but the boy still looked like his short life was flashing before his eyes.
“Of course you think it’s a little weird,” he went on, “I mean we’re both boys, teammates at that. Oh god I should’ve thought– I shouldn’t have–”
“Hinata,” Kageyama said again.
Only this time he couldn’t quite control his limbs as his hands shot out to cup Hinata’s face, his thumb drawing soothing circles high on his cheeks. He could practically feel Hinata’s quick, frantic breath fanning his skin.
“Look at me,” he said. And for some reason Hinata listened, carefully peeling his eyes open. It gave Kageyama the confidence he needed to keep talking.
“You see? I’m not uncomfortable,” he said softly, vaguely registering he was still cradling Hinata’s head, that Hinata let him.
Hinata laughed softly, warmly. And if Kageyama was drowning before, that sound was the held out hand pulling him up to the surface. God, he could truly listen to that for hours. But he knew that wasn’t an option right now, and so, finally, he let his hands fall to his sides, shifted his weight and sat down again.
“I don’t have that much experience,” he huffed under his breath, just a little too loud for Hinata’s ever-perceptive ears not to pick up on it.
“Dude,” he piped up, “I literally saw you make out with a girl at that championship party.”
Kageyama cringed. He honestly, truly, outwardly cringed at the thought of Hinata looking at him while he was licking away at his teammate’s döppelganger. Oh god he was going to have that image seared into his mind for the rest of the day.
He groaned, “ugh. That was…”
What was he going to say? A mistake? A lapse of judgment? A fantasy he 100% made the conscious choice to indulge in?
He was about to let his internal monologue show on his face when he heard Hinata clear his throat.
“Interesting,” he said pensively, “it was interesting.”
“I was gonna say it was gross,” Kageyama replied, “I’m pretty awkward, you know.”
Hinata knocked their shoulders together and scoffed playfully, “no way, you’re totally cool. Ask any girl in school.”
Kageyama felt his cheeks heat up. He once again wondered how Hinata could just voice his every thought. He started scratching the back of his head sheepishly, “I’m no–”
But Hinata wasn’t done.
“Yes you are!” he said enthusiastically, “you’re super cool and mysterious and athletic and you set the ball way better than anyone else, not that the girls would know that. And you’re not unpleasant to look at and you smell good, like volleyballs, and somehow our uniform looks way prettier on you than it does on anyone else.”
This wasn’t fair. Kageyama certainly didn’t think so. How could Hinata just say things like this? How could he not see the effects his words had on Kageyama? How could he not notice the way his heart sped up and his pupils dilated and his cheeks flushed red?
And just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. Because Hinata was patting him on the back, telling him that he shouldn’t be so modest because he deserved to have the biggest ego ever, and Kageyama didn’t even register the words anymore because Hinata’s hand was right there on his arm and he could feel the heat from his own skin seep into his.
He let out a soft, shuddery breath to steady his voice. He wasn’t entirely sure what was about to come out of his mouth. “I– I can teach you,” he eventually settles on.
The brightness that took over Hinata’s face was instant. It effectively knocked out any doubts Kageyama had in the first place. Though he did wonder what, exactly, he’d agreed to.
“What do you need me to do?” he managed to ask.
Hinata nearly smacked his head against Kageyama’s when he jumped up, nerves apparently making way for undying enthusiasm.
“Well, have you ever been on a date?” the spiker asked.
Kageyama turned his gaze to the floor, “I– Yeah? A couple times,” Kageyama answered reluctantly.
“Aaaaand, did you kiss her?” Hinata sang. His voice was unbearably bubbly, incredibly cheerful, and unfortunately knowing.
Kageyama gulped, there hadn’t been a her, but he wasn’t quite ready to have that conversation yet. Though dear Jesus, the current conversation wasn’t particularly easier to have.
“Yeah. Yeah, there was a kiss.” he stammered.
Hinata prodded his arm, god why did he have to keep touching him. “Just one?” he said, with the most mischievous little grin on his face. Kageyama leaned more towards punching than kissing that grin this time, but he could only shake his head.
“I knew it!” Hinata exclaimed, “you’re totally an expert.”
Kageyama stared at him blankly as his mind started to conjure up images of Hinata’s perfect, blossom pink lips against his. Hinata’s hands in his hair and his smile lighting up the room as they’d part and oh god, he couldn’t do this.
But Hinata looked so relieved, so happy, and that sort of made it okay to dream, if only just a little. And so Kageyama finally stood up to face the ball of energy he called a friend, the dumb sunshine of a human with his dumb dopey grin and his dumb soft skin and his dumb outstretched hand that was waiting patiently for Kageyama to shake it.
And shake it he did.
What, exactly, he shook on he wasn’t quite sure. He was, however, sure he was in for a whole lot of trouble. Trouble that came in the form it always did, a form called Hinata fucking Shouyou.