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“Kiss me.”
And what is Kageyama, if not a slave to Hinata’s every demand? He wraps his hand around the latter’s waist, shifting a little closer to his face. Hinata’s warm breath fans on his nose and with little to no effort, Kageyama wills himself to brush against Hinata’s pink lips, pecking lightly where Hinata’s smile begins.
“What a tease.”
Kageyama laughs breathily against Hinata’s neck, his hands roaming all over the well toned, flexed arms to the only soft flesh of the waist to the flaming orange hair that never seems to dim. Hinata is gasping ever so slightly against the soft touches, but he does nothing to let this cease. It is raining outside, perhaps snowing, but huddled under the small blue blanket, unable to distinguish where one began and the other ended, they couldn't care less. “You love it”, Kageyama murmurs, dangerously close to losing all sorts of control.
There’s a light chuckle, “Well, I love you.” He says it so matter-of-factly, as if Hinata loving Kageyama is as natural as breathing, that Kageyama is taken aback. It’s been well over a month, but it’s still a surprise to him that Hinata is his’, Hinata is here, and Hinata loves him back. Maybe a year ago he would have scoffed and avoided this topic altogether, but not now. Instead, he presses a kiss to Hinata’s shoulder, his own way of returning the overwhelming feelings.
“What's…” Kageyama’s eyebrows furrow, “What’s this?”
Hinata has to stretch his neck a little to grasp that Kageyama's talking about the almost faded scar on his arm, right next to his shoulder. He had gotten it a while back, when he accidentally slammed into the ladder kept aside on the court while playing volleyball. He laughs, “Volleyball. Slammed into a ladder.”
Kageyama scoffs, “Of course you did.” But there’s no bite behind his words, and so Hinata does nothing but shiver when Kageyama’s lips pin on his wound gently, as if it still hurts. Kageyama shifts gradually, coming face to face with Hinata, wonder written all over those expressions that Hinata can read like the back of his hand now. “Beautiful.” Hinata’s breath hitches, as it always does when Kageyama calls him that. “So, so, beautiful Sho”, Kageyama resumes, moving over to Hinata’s neck, where there’s no scars, only pink and purple bruises from the earlier assault. He begins kissing softly, from his cluttered neck, to his collar bones, to his firm chest. Hinata is positively whining now, his hands settled somewhere in Kageyama’s hair.
Slightly positioning Hinata at a certain angle so he can access his back, Kageyama trails down Hinata’s shoulder blades, planting wet kisses. Hinata arches his back dreamily, sighing into the pillow.
The taller’s attention is now on the other forearm, where there is a long purplish scar. Kageyama remembers finding out through Tsukishima that Hinata had had a bad fall in Brazil, severely injuring his left hand in indoor volleyball, remembers calling hurriedly only to hear a grinning (but obviously in pain) Hinata assuring him that this injury would not set him back.
Kageyama settles on resting his lips on the slightly raised skin, before letting out a tender pretty. Hinata is pink everywhere, his ears, his cheeks, his chest, even the tips of his fingers. Sometimes Kageyama’s mind marvels at how someone so unabashedly loud and outgoing could be so shy. “You..” Hinata gasps weakly, his mind reeling, “Tobio.” He earns Kageyama’s undivided attention then, deep, rough breaths blowing on his torso as dark blue eyes stare at him.
Sometimes Hinata thinks the entire ocean dwells inside those eyes.
Now that Kageyama’s shuffled below his chest, Hinata should feel cold. He does not though, everything inside him is warm. They hold eye contact for a few more seconds before Kageyama lands his mouth on the femur bone, where lies another small scar. Hinata is gone, mumbling incoherent words jumbled together. Kageyama takes his time, outlining the prominent bone with his tongue and leaving tender little pecks. He grabs Hinata’s free hand to intertwine with his own, leaving the other to grip his hair. His own free hand rests on Hinata’s waist, caressing gently.
Kageyama kisses the inside of Hinata’s thighs, slowly going down until he reaches the blemish on his right leg, a little above the knee. All of these marks on Hinata’s body are from the immense hard work he’s done over the years, the amount he’s grown (and also dumbassery, but Kageyama refuses to entertain the thought at this particular moment). He’s oh, so proud of Hinata.
“Gorgeous”, he mutters, and he means it. “What?” Hinata teases, breathless, “My flaws?”
“You. Your everything.” Kageyama pauses, hovering right above Hinata’s tiny brown birthmark on his left foot, usually concealed by shoes. He grazes his lips on the shape. By this point, the blanket has been shrugged away with Kageyama’s movements, and even though there are shivers coursing through them both for different reasons, neither of them bother to cover themselves. Hinata stops breathing, on finding Kageyama back to his original position, his face only inches away.
Hinata’s eyes flutter shut as Kageyama edges closer, cupping his hands around Hinata’s face. Kageyama places small, delicate kisses on Hinata’s wet eyelashes. “I love you, Shouyou.”
Letting out a puff of air, Hinata opens his eyes and stares at Kageyama. He bends around the weight of the latter, grabbing at the blanket so he can tuck them both. After he’s done, he wraps his arms around the hefty shoulders he can never get used to. Hinata presses his lips to Kageyama’s, breathing in the fragrance of fresh laundry and faint sweat.
So when Kageyama mutters a small, “kiss me”, what is Hinata, if not a slave to Kageyama’s every demand?