Archive of Our Own

Shouyou was a happy person, he knew he was. But, contrary to popular belief, even he felt less than thrilled sometimes. 

It was in big things, mostly; losing an important volleyball game, realizing he hadn’t seen his mother in a while, seeing his sister start to take an interest in dating – he was an intimidating, famous, protective big brother, goddammit! 

But the negativity coursing through his veins never stayed for long. It ebbed like the waves softly rippling away from the shore; made place for bigger, better emotions to crash into his body instead. 

Shouyou was an amiable man. He signed volleyballs even when his hands started to cramp, if only to see the wobbly smile blossom over a fan’s face. He helped elderly ladies cross the street, taking their gratitude as fuel to go on with his day. He helped Atsumu confess his feelings to Kiyoomi in the grandest way he could think of, even if that meant Shouyou had borne the blisters on his hands for days after he’d sat crawled beneath a bush to unleash a horde of doves. He was kind, he was good. 

So then why was his karma this fucking bad?

What god had he pissed off to deserve this divine punishment standing before him in all his jerky, gorgeous glory? Whose feet did he have to kiss to get out of said punishment? Really, Shouyou wasn’t above groveling. He was quite good at it, actually–

“Shouyou?”

The deep, surprised voice jolted him from his miserable reverie, only to stoke said misery until it erupted into flames dancing before his eyes. In his agony he hadn’t even seen the way black hair swished around to make way for a handsome, pale face. 

Shouyou couldn’t stop a groan from leaving his lips. It wasn’t even satisfying to see the face falter; he couldn’t even revel in the furrowed brows or the confusion traveling over way too soft-looking skin. 

Oh, who was he kidding, the skin was soft. He knew that first-hand. 

Reluctantly, he met rich blue eyes in a way of acknowledging their owner’s existence. “Kageyama,” he muttered.

Kageyama, never Tobio. Not anymore. The name felt strange on his tongue, like it no longer belonged there. The syllables tasted bitter. Shouyou thought it might be because of the memories that tainted them. 

There was a time they tasted sour; an exhilarating, tangy sort of sensation that traveled from his throat to the tips of his fingers until his skin was buzzing with it. It was new, exciting, the way Shouyou’s tongue twisted to accommodate the letters. It was one of his favorite flavors, back when he didn’t know the way it’d evolve. When he was simply happy he got even the smallest of tastes.

Then the word had turned sweet; a honeyed, cloying sort of pleasure that he wanted to feel again, and again, and again. A delight Kageyama had been sure to give him, those days. It was a dessert that came with a tantalizing aftertaste; another word that Shouyou’s high-school self could have never dreamed of uttering. 

Tobio. 

There seemed to be no limit to Shouyou’s greediness, when he could easily grab hold of all that he wanted. When he could get home at night and chant the words like a prayer. When he could kiss the man behind the letters until his taste buds sang an even rosier song. When he loved Tobio and Tobio loved him.

He scoffed, those days were long over; the memories fallen apart like a house made of cards. A foundation they’d mistaken for a sturdy bedrock, one that had turned out to be so easily swayed. 

Shouyou didn’t like to dwell on it for long. It reminded him of the good days as much as it did the bad. And he didn’t trust himself enough not to get caught up in affectionate insults and silly competitions and touches that lingered just a second too long – only meant to remind him that Kageyama was there. That he always would be.

Now look where that belief got them. 

Shouyou shook his head at the cruelty of the universe. It would have been bad to have bumped into his ex anywhere. But here? When he was supposed to meet Kenma for a joyous day of stuffing his cheeks with cake?

He should have seen it coming, really. Of course he couldn’t be given a reprieve from his suffering. Of course Kenma had had to cancel their plans in favor of getting his hands on the newest Pokémon game. Shouyou understood, truly, he did. He knew that a new game meant as much to Kenma and his career as any opportunity to promote volleyball meant to him. 

Even when – after hissing at Kuroo that this was something he and his best man needed to take care of by themselves – that made it so the streamer couldn’t make it to his very own wedding cake testing. Kenma had apologized profusely for not being able to make it, and then he’d stressed out over the fact that there was no way he could reschedule the appointment. And so Shouyou, gracious as he was, had offered to go for him. He ensured his best friend that he would document his reactions to each and every flavor and he meant it – he would do this right. 

But all of his good intentions were shoved right out the window with one fucking glance at the man who had both stolen and broken his heart.

“What are you doing here?” Kageyama asked. The sincere wonder in his voice sickened Shouyou to the point he didn’t see the other emotion gliding quickly over his features. 

“Testing cake,” Shouyou responded bluntly. It was uncivil, he realized, but he did not think he could ever be free of whispered promises if he were to fall back into other old patterns. 

Kageyama didn’t particularly seem to share that sentiment. “Dumbass,” he said, and Shouyou immediately saw him wince, “I didn’t– I mean–”

“It’s fine,” Shouyou lied. 

It wasn’t fine, of course not. It used to mean something, the insult – even if its significance had changed mightily over the course of their relationship. It was one of the many peculiarities of their days as a couple, at least to the people that didn’t know them very well. But to them, the word had been a favorite term of endearment. 

Now it just served as a bleak reminder of all that they’d lost. 

Kageyama gulped and nodded shakily, “right,” he said. His attempt at restarting the conversation was, thankfully, cut short when a tall woman approached the pair. 

“Hinata-san?” she said. 

Shouyou quickly thanked his lucky stars for sending him his saving grace as he nodded, “yes, that’s me,” he said. 

The woman smiled warmly, “right this way, please.”

Shouyou took off after her quickly, leaving a slightly stunned Kageyama standing by the entry – mouth still slightly agape from the words left unsaid. It would have been funny if not for the hint of regret lingering in Shouyou’s brain.

It was stupid, really; being heartbroken over one single interaction, even when their paths hadn’t crossed in over a year – the only exception being the highly anticipated match that neither of them had been able to back out off. And even then, they had only interacted on the court; had let their plays speak for themselves  and then promptly crawled back into their corners when the final whistle had blown.

It had been hard, sure. But seeing Kageyama on the other side of the court – knowing he wouldn’t be coming home to massage Shouyou’s sore muscles, had lit a fire under his ass that he didn’t know could burn so brightly. He’d played his hardest – they both had – and eventually the satisfying sting of his palm outweighed the cracks forming in his heart. 

So then why was Shouyou reeling like a petulant child over unfairly sharp muscles and unsettlingly soft-spoken words? 

He pinched the skin of his wrist. He needed to get his shit together already, if only so he wouldn’t miss the elaborate explanation the woman – Reo, he thinks she said her name was – was animatedly giving him. 

“...Just call any of the staff if you have any more questions!” she smiled. Shouyou smiled back, it was one of his trademark, radiant grins, before giving her a thumbs up. He might not be able to enjoy his stay here in peace, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let a good day of cake-eating go to waste, either. 

He was ready. 

🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕

Shouyou was decidedly not ready.

It had been approximately twenty minutes since the first slice of heaven had been placed before him but he was enjoying it less and less by the second. In fact, he was agonizingly close to ripping his own hair out.

Once again he wondered whatever he did to deserve the pits of hell he had been thrown into. He should have known something was wrong the second Reo’s kind, energetic expression fell a little. He should have realized that the tentative way she looked from him to the door had nothing to do with her expecting another client. He should have seen it coming and he should have bolted right out the door. 

But he hadn’t. And now here he sat, angrily chewing on one of the most delicious lemon tarts he’d ever had the pleasure of tasting – without basking in the glory of a perfectly fluffy meringue the way he should have the right to. No, instead of a beautiful paradise of golden browns and whites, Shouyou’s mind was stuck in its own personal purgatory of royal blues and blacks. 

See, about three minutes after he sat down, a man in a crisp, black button-up had strode up to the entry of the small bakery, talked up a storm, and hauled a reluctant Kageyama to Shouyou’s table. He insisted that it “wouldn’t break tradition to do the cake-testing together” whatever that meant.

Though he’d put up a valiant effort, Shouyou simply hadn’t been able to object enough for Kageyama to leave – or better yet, get thrown out of the shop altogether. The man in black had put his foot down. Shouyou never stood a chance. 

In all of fifteen minutes he managed to find out a surprising amount about someone he thought he knew so thoroughly. 

For one, Kageyama wasn’t getting married. Shouyou wasn’t sure whether or not he should feel embarrassed about the amount of relief that coursed through his veins after the confirmation, nor was he certain what to make of the expression on Kageyama’s face when he said he wasn’t walking down the aisle anytime soon, either. 

It didn’t really matter, he decided. 

There was more he found out rather quickly. Case in point; Kageyama was still a frustrating jerk and Shouyou struggled to reign in the overwhelming urge to punch him.

Not once had he given Shouyou the satisfaction of seeing an outright display of indignation. Not once had he barked out senseless insults at any of the employees, nor had he made Shouyou uncomfortable with anything other than his presence.

Instead, Kageyama was a gentleman in every sense of the word – only switching to a familiar, playful teasing that tugged on Shouyou’s heartstrings when the situation called for it. 

Fifteen minutes. That was all it took for Kageyama Tobio to come in and ruin Shouyou’s perfectly happy life the way he had a year ago.

It did not make any sense that his ex still held so much power over Shouyou’s poor, fragile heart. Kageyama shouldn’t still be able to control the rhythm of it; shouldn’t have any say in the beat to which it danced. Yet still, Shouyou’s breath caught in his throat and a thunderous vibration pulsed through his veins until he saw a seering red.

Shouyou was proud of himself for not letting it show on his face.

Kageyama chose that exact moment to turn his gaze to him, which brought Shouyou to fact number three; Kageyama had, unfortunately, not grown any warts in the time they’d spent apart, nor had he lost any of his other annoyingly attractive qualities. His eyes still shone the deepest blue, like they held a steady sea inside them. His lashes were as long and luscious as they’d always been. His skin did not get any duller and the set of his jaw wasn’t any less sharp than Shouyou knew it to be. 

He hated to admit it, but Kageyama wasn’t just devastatingly handsome, he was pretty to boot. It was almost as annoying as the man’s way with words or the rough personality that used to bring Shouyou comfort. 

He wished it didn’t, still. 

He wished it didn’t impact the way he got to enjoy the variety of confections spread out before him. He wished it didn’t fuck with his tastebuds until all cakes tasted the same – bland compared to the memory of Kageyama’s name on his lips. 

Shouyou’s internal monologue was swiftly interrupted by a soft, warm voice. 

“Well, Hinata-san, how would you rank the lemon tart?” it said.

As much as Shouyou wanted to shower Reo in his praise, he barely even registered the woman’s words until he felt a kick in the shin. He glared at the perpetrator for a second before clearing his throat. “It’s delicious,” he mumbled. 

Reo’s smile shone brighter, “that’s good to hear!” she said before encouraging him to elaborate a little further, just so he could have the most detailed ranking of the treats when he was set to order the wedding cake, later. 

Yes, Shouyou had told her that it wasn’t him who was getting married. But Reo, along with her four-person staff, did not seem too convinced. Especially since Shouyou, in his damned best-best-man mode, had booked the appointment in the first place. 

“I’d say this one goes in second,” a voice piped up, “right behind the first one we tried. The meringue is heavenly but it just doesn’t stack up against the rich, passion fruit sauce combined with the white chocolate swirls.”

Ah, right. Kageyama discovery number four: that man loved his cake. 

Shouyou knew that, of course. Kageyama’s love of everything sweet had prompted him to bake a wide variety of cookies and cakes and brownies galore. Granted, Shouyou’s attempts had been charred black more times than not, but still. That only meant he could haul Kageyama to the bakery down the street and watch as his boyfriend’s eyes sparkled at the displays. 

The memory was bittersweet. 

And still, the love of cake wasn’t quite the same as the Kageyama before him showed. It was almost as if he’d done extensive research before coming to the bakery; like he knew every single flavor inside and out before ever having tried them, like the words to describe them were sitting readily on his lips.

It frustrated Shouyou beyond reasonability. 

Kageyama wasn’t soft-spoken, at least not to anyone other than him. He wasn’t patient or enviously kind, and he definitely wasn’t this goddamn eloquent. Kageyama was all harsh words that held the exact meaning he wanted them to, he didn’t mince any of the things he said. Mostly because he just didn’t think he needed to. He was honest to a fault, sincere to a tee.

It was both his best and worst trait, Shouyou thought.

But here he sat, in all his well-spoken glory; a man that seemed to love cake nearly as much as he loved his profession. And that was a heavy statement, Shouyou knew. He didn’t take it lightly.

Reo laughed as she turned to him, “well,” she smiled, “your partner sure seems to know his tastes.”

Shouyou gulped. That was another thing he learned; for some unfathomable reason, the staff seemed to think he and Kageyama had come to the bakery together. As in, together, together. 

For an even more inexplicable reason, neither of them denied it. Instead, Kageyama took every chance he got to brush their hands together. And Shouyou – not one to let Kageyama one-up him – rose to the occasion by calling Kageyama every pet name in the book.

Maybe it was childish of him, but Shouyou felt the urge to compete. He nodded his head sweetly before turning to Kageyama, “surely you don’t mean to take away from the refreshing sourness of the lemon, dear?”

Reo looked delighted at Shouyou’s increasing enthusiasm. Kageyama, on the other hand, seemed about ready to throttle him; his mouth pursed in a tight smile, brows furrowed deeply, and eyes widening in irritation as he nearly choked on the damn pastry. 

He dabbed his napkin to the corner of his mouth, sliding his unoccupied hand over the table to link his fingers with Shouyou’s, “forgive me, love, that wasn’t my intention ,” he answered. It was enough to make Shouyou’s blood boil, how dare he–

“What a sweet couple you are,” Reo interrupted, “passionate too. I can see your marriage lasting forever, you know,” she winked. 

Shouyou felt all blood in his system rush to his face as Kageyama promptly let his hand go – he was perhaps even worse off than Shouyou was. 

“This isn’t our wedding–”

“We aren’t getting married–”

They glared at each other for a millisecond before their blushes melted the anger from their faces; it left an untouched glacier of panic and just a hint of something else that Shouyou couldn’t quite place. 

Reo held up her hands to them the way you would placating a child, “of course,” she said, “my apologies, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Kageyama shook his head softly, his mouth still hanging slightly agape, as Shouyou muttered an “no, no, it’s alright”. Still, the woman left them for a second. Shouyou chose to track her movements in lieu of having his eyes meet Kageyama. He saw her gesturing wildly to one of her employees, the pair clearly a little distraught. Shouyou sighed, he hoped he wasn’t the cause of it. 

The second he dropped his gaze he regretted it. Because right there, sitting square in the middle of his vision, was one Kageyama Tobio looking hopelessly flustered. Shouyou’s traitorous heart gave a little “pang” at the once endearing sight. Now, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. 

If he couldn’t tease Kageyama about the faint blush dusting his cheeks or the glimmer in his eyes that made him look like a deer in headlights, what was the point? If he was unable to make the man’s pulse race even faster and his ears tinge a brighter shade of red, only to kiss the stammered words right off his lips, why would he need to be confronted by it?

This was agony. A nightmare Shouyou couldn’t quite rip his eyes off of.

Kageyama, the bastard, noticed his staring. It only made him gulp away an obvious hitch in his throat, not breaking eye-contact as if Shouyou had personally put it there. After a second of uncomfortable silence, Shouyou’s resolve broke. 

He took a deep breath before grabbing hold of Kageyama’s fingers again, “listen,” he said, “I don’t know what the hell we’re doing, but it’s too late to change course now.”

Kageyama’s eyes grew wide as he let them slide from Shouyou’s mouth to his hand and back. Eventually, he nodded stiffly. 

“Good,” Shouyou continued before forcing a bright grin onto his face, “cheer up, Yama-Yama-kun,” he said, immediately cringing at the old nickname. Still, he soldiered on, “this might even be fun. As long as you get your head out of your ass–”

Kageyama’s trance seemingly broke as he yanked his hand back. The soft wonder in his eyes turned into a more hostile glare, “I do not have my head in my ass,” he hissed. 

Shouyou raised his brow and shrugged, “sure, whatever you say.”

Kageyama looked like he was about to spit back a retort when a warm voice interrupted him. Shouyou, once again, thanked all the gods for letting him get away unscathed. But then he turned his head towards the sound. 

Oh god. 

Before him stood Reo, dressed in the same pristinely black button-up she had been before, flanked by four similarly dressed bakers. It looked like she decided to bring the cavalry, this time. 

In her hands laid a blindfold, the most buttery yellow Shouyou had ever seen. He did not have time to appreciate the embroidered cloth as his eyes found the items the other employees were holding. 

He tried to gauge Kageyama’s reaction. He seemed eerily calm, like he wasn’t aware of the tricks their hosts might pull. Shouyou pitied him slightly, like a lamb being sent off to slaughter without ever realizing the danger.

He calmed himself, surely they wouldn’t–

“Gentlemen,” Reo’s voice piped up, “the crew and I thought it might be nice to enhance your tasting experience– especially since you two are the only clients scheduled to come in today.”

Shouyou gulped. Okay, perhaps they would. 

Kageyama still looked utterly clueless, something that shouldn’t be as endearing as it was, when Reo softly draped the blindfold over the table. The other men and women in black laid out the treats they’d been holding in a tasteful display. When they were done, Shouyou’s gaze snapped back up to Reo, who started speaking again. 

“If you’re interested,” she started, “I’d like to invite you to a little competition.”

Shouyou winced at the choice of words. He knew the reaction they would coax out of Kageyama – had used the same exact technique on a daily basis when they were younger. 

Sure enough, the setter’s eyes sparkled, “competition?” he asked, “how do I win?”

Shouyou groaned as Reo laughed – he could almost imagine her chuckling at his misery. 

“Well,” she responded, completely ignoring Shouyou’s internal breakdown, “the game is fairly easy. One of you gets blindfolded,” she said as she picked the buttery cloth back up, “the other one feeds them a taste of one of the cakes before you, and the blindfolded player has to guess which one he’s eating!”

The woman’s bright smile almost drowned out Shouyou’s own bleak expression. It eclipsed his tight smile until it looked the way he felt; cold, dark, empty inside. But of course, neither he or Kageyama were the type of people to turn down a challenge. 

“I’m in,” he muttered in time with Kageyama’s “I’m gonna win.”

Within no time, Kageyama was sitting before him with the blindfold tightly wrapped around his silky, black locks, a confident smirk playing on his lips. Kageyama was going to kill this game, if his earlier knowledge of flavors was anything to go by. It sort of excited Shouyou, in a way. 

Then again, he was not about to lose. 

He took the fork from Reo’s hand and picked up the first piece of cake; a cherry red cheesecake that looked absolutely heavenly. He was on perhaps his tenth second of admiring the glistening compote coating when he heard an indignant huff. 

“Hurry up,” Kageyama whined. 

Shouyou couldn’t stop the laugh from bursting out of his throat. It was easier now, being casual; when he didn’t have to stare right into the deep, blue ocean in Kageyama’s eyes. 

It seemed to surprise the setter, though, seeing as he promptly shut his mouth and a wobbly smile took over his face. 

Shouyou grinned as he brought the fork closer, stopping right before Kageyama’s lips. It was a little mean. But Shouyou knew they both loved him that way. 

“How do you know I’m not going to stab you with the fork?” he snickered. 

When Kageyama’s deep voice echoed through the room, Shouyou almost did exactly that. Because the words that left the velvety lips were absolutely not what he’d expected them to be. 

“I trust you,” Kageyama said, the sentiment spoken so sincerely it was almost painful, “blindly,” he added. 

Shouyou’s eyes grew comically wide as he heard the soft “aww” cooed behind him. He involuntarily went back in time; replaying memory after memory of squeaky sneakers and leathery scents and the fresh sting of a volleyball against his palm. Subsequently, his mind wandered further; to nights spent perfecting a quick. To elegant fingers raking through his unruly hair. To promises uttered and promises kept. To steady blue and shiny black. To rosy cheeks and rosier lips, the softest touch of them against Shouyou’s skin. 

I’m here. 

I trust you, blindly.

It was only a slight deviation, really. One Shouyou overlooked in pursuit of the same butterflies he always got when he heard the phrase. A few simple words that had changed his life forever. 

He was quickly jolted from his reverie when Kageyama’s voice sounded again, a little raspier now. “Cherry cheesecake,” he said. 

Shouyou looked down to find Kageyama’s form hunched forward slightly, just enough for him to reach the fork held loosely in Shouyou’s hand. He couldn’t quite comment on it. 

A chorus of cheers erupted behind him, “correct!” Reo laughed, “that was impressive.”

Kageyama smirked, “I told you I’d win,” he said, more to Shouyou than anyone else, it seemed. 

Shouyou grinned back, “yeah?” he challenged, “bring it on.”

Much to Shouyou’s chagrin, the game advanced quickly – Kageyama was just that good. Shouyou should be relieved, really; should be over the moon that the torturous time he was forced to spend with his ex was coming to an end. 

And yet…

The last thirty minutes hadn’t been spent in complete agony. In fact, it almost felt like old times; the way Kageyama had chastised Shouyou for not feeding him fast enough, and Shouyou smearing pearly-white frosting all over his face in retaliation, both of them bursting out laughing as they bickered some more; the way Kageyama’s competitiveness brought with it a focus so intense Shouyou wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or terrified; the way neither of them had flinched even once when Kageyama was left to Shouyou’s fork-handling mercy time and time again. 

It was all too familiar.

Something in Shouyou’s brain protested, almost as if the whole thing was on fire. It hurt; the wild blaze catching onto any and all memories Shouyou possessed, tinging them a dark red upon their every touch. Shouyou wanted to scream as he saw the momentos go up in flames, his doubts along with them. 

Kageyama and he visiting the park, but differently this time; instead of the usual athletic wear, both of them geared up in linen pants and casual-chique shirts – nervous smiles plastered on their faces. As the flames licked around the edges of his vision, Shouyou remembered. Their first date. 

The Kageyama that sat before him now raised his brow in silent question, as if he wanted to know what took Shouyou so long to feed him a new pastry. But Shouyou’s mind was elsewhere. 

He was diving face-first off a hill in a race gone awry, his brakes stilted, suddenly; Kageyama’s concerned frown melting off his face to make way for a wave of laughter when he saw that Shouyou was okay. The smoke was almost too strong for him to see, but Shouyou didn’t have to. He knew that smile by heart now; knew the way Kageyama’s eyes crinkled and his mouth wobbled as if he was trying his best to hold the sound in. 

“Shouyou?” 

Kageyama’s voice was soft, concern lacing one singular word. Shouyou gasped involuntarily, “yeah,” he said before remembering where he was. When the realization hit, though, he promptly shoved a new fork-full of cake into Kageyama’s waiting mouth, “yes– I– here.”

Finally, Kageyama flinched. Shouyou supposed he did jam the fork in rather hard. 

“Earl Grey and lavender,” Kageyama said before coughing out a quick “dumbass”. 

“I’m sorry,” Shouyou muttered right as the team behind them clapped their hands in joy. “Wow,” one of them said, “he really is good at this.”

While before Shouyou’s ears were ringing, now all he heard was silence. It was swiftly broken by a fork clattering onto the ground, his fork. He hadn’t even realized it slipped from his fingers. 

He jumped up quickly, only to step on the cutlery, bending it out of shape. “Oh god,” he said as he turned to Reo, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t–”

Reo smiled kindly at him, “it’s quite alright,” she assured him, “though I supposed we can’t continue the game now.”

One of the employees raised a brow, “what do you mean Reo-san?” she said, “surely we have more forks in stock than this one.”

Reo shook her head, “sadly we do not. We ran out of fresh cutlery today and our order got delayed… This is the last clean fork we have. I can wash some up for you, but it’ll take a minute with how our washing programme works–”

“It’s alright,” Kageyama whispered. 

But Shouyou saw a pout blink onto his face only to melt away with lightning speed as if it was never there. His heart gave a little ‘pang’ at the barely noticeable disappointment on Kageyama’s face – almost as if he wanted to keep playing too. 

Shouyou wasn’t sure what possessed him to do what he did next, but in any and all retellings he will blame it on the spirits of his ancestors. 

“I know how we can keep playing,” he whispered. 

Immediately, the store fell quiet. Shouyou leaned in to whisper something only Kageyama could hear, “do you trust me?”

Kageyama nodded softly, almost imperceptively. But Shouyou had always been great at noticing him. So he grabbed the final piece of apfelstrüdel from the plate beside him and popped it into his mouth. His hand was shaky when it met Kageyama’s nape, but the way the setter eased into the touch made Shouyou’s heart flutter. 

He leaned in once again, “can I?” he whispered. Again Kageyama nodded, though he let out a breathless “yes” too. 

Shouyou prayed to all that was holy that Kageyama knew what he was about to do. 

He shouldn’t have worried – when he touched their lips together, Kageyama was sure to welcome him in. 

He tasted sweet, and sour, and bitter all at once; like all the ways his name had once tasted, but coated in a heavenly flavor of happiness as well. Shouyou supposed it couldn’t have been much different, with all the pastries Kageyama had consumed. 

He still thought of it as fate. 

He almost forgot about the apfelstrüdel still laying on his tongue. Luckily, Kageyama didn’t. He snaked his hand into Shouyou’s unruly curls and tugged slightly, just enough for Shouyou’s mouth to fall open in a silent gasp. Kageyama wasted no time to swipe his tongue across his lips before starting a game he had all control over; it was just as Shouyou remembered, this push and pull of lips. It still sent a thrill through his spine when his tongue met Kageyama’s in a tentalizing dance. 

He was almost too dazed to register Kageyama pulling back, nor did he fully grasp the chuckles of the staff still standing behind him. 

A deep voice jolted him from his embarrassment. “Apple,” it said.

“Not quite,” Shouyou laughed as he slowly lifted Kageyama’s blindfold from his head. He nearly shivered when he was met with those gorgeous, royal blue eyes. Instead he snorted at the petulant furrow of Kageyama’s brows. 

“That’s not fair,” Kageyama argued, “you caught me off guard.”

Shouyou smirked at him, “I caught you off guard?” he echoed before raising his brow, “really?”

Kageyama nodded intently, “you cheated,” he stated. 

Shouyou laughed, the sound bright and rich as it bubbled from his throat. It wasn’t long before Kageyama’s deeper laugh joined in. 

Shouyou threaded their hands together as his laughter slowed into a content smile. “Kageyama?” he said, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

This time, they were both ready. 

🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕

The sound of Kenma’s phone ringing nearly made him jump out of his skin. He wasn’t made for sneaking around like this, he thought. Though he supposed it was for a good cause. He grinned as he eyed the device, a familiar name lighting up the screen. 

“Miwa-kun,” he greeted, “I take it you saw Reo-san’s text?”

He heard the woman on the other side of the line laugh heartily, “I gotta tell you, Ken-kun,” she said, the smile shining through her words, “this was one hell of an idea.”

Kenma shrugged, though he knew she couldn’t see it, ”it was getting painful watching him writhe in agony every time someone brought your brother up,” he chuckled. 

Miwa made a sound of approval, “Tobio kept whining about Shouyou’s quote, unquote, stupid new video with Kenma-kun,” she laughed. 

Kenma laughed too, “ouch,” he said, “I’ll try not to let that bruise my ego too much.”

He could almost hear Miwa roll her eyes at him. He knew her that well by now. See, this wasn’t particularly the first call they’d made to each other. 

It had all started a couple weeks ago when, after listening to their respective idiot whine about their lost other half for hours, both Kenma and Miwa had finally gotten fed up. Luckily, Kenma remembered that the Kageyama family consisted of more people than just Tobio, and without much of a fuss – thank you Natsu, he owes you one – he’d been able to contact her quickly. 

What had started as a tentative acquintainship meant to vent about both Shouyou and Tobio’s pining had quickly turned into a way to build up their elaborate plan. They were both set to get married soon, and it just so happened that their respective best-men were hell-bent on fulfilling their duties to the best of their abilities. 

Kenma had thought it almost comically easy, sending Shouyou to a bakery he had no intent of visiting – he and Kuroo had already gone to their cake-testing appointment. They’d settled on a basic vanilla cake with chocolate frosting. Shouyou knew this, he had been the one to order the damn thing for them, after all. 

Needless to say – after overcoming the initial shock of having a forgetful volleyball idiot as a best man – Kuroo and Kenma had been laughing about the whole situation manically for weeks. The event was marked in their bathroom calendar as “getting Shouyou some cake” 

They didn’t mean the edible kind. 

In turn Miwa had “accidentally booked the wrong flight” and had practically begged Tobio to pick her cake up from the bakery. 

Miwa never booked a flight; not to Tokyo, at least. She was currently lounging in a hammock in Ibiza with her fiancé ahead of the wedding – they wouldn’t have any time to go on a relaxing honeymoon for at least a few months after tying the knot and decided to go early. 

Tobio, good brother that he was, had only whined about it a little before putting on his big girl panties and saving his sister from potential wedding ruin. 

Finding someone to assist the pair in their endeavors had been fairly easy, too. 

Reo had been more than happy to go along with the plan, even going as far as to close the shop the second both Tobio and Shouyou set foot in the place. Her bakery didn’t offer any couple games, and she certainly had more than one measly fork in stock. But she was a romantic at heart, and playing matchmaker for her childhood friend’s brother? Well, she couldn’t really see her day getting any better. 

She’d been texting the trio’s groupchat during the entire thing – giving quick updates on the silly competitions the pair was getting caught up in; how they’d tried to outdo each other describing the cakes in the most absurd possible ways; how Shouyou longingly gazed at Tobio when he thought no one was looking; how Tobio’s breath seemed to catch in his throat when Shouyou called him anything other than his name; how they both seemed to get lost in each other. 

And when she sent Kenma and Miwa a picture of the two kissing, surrounded by the most beautiful displays of cookies and cakes – twin smiles plastered on their faces so grand the kiss couldn’t possibly be comfortable?

Well, that was just the cherry on top.

Kenma smiled when he heard Miwa’s voice pick back up, “guess who just texted me,” she said, a fond irritation lacing the words. 

Kenma continued filing his nails, “tell me everything,” he said. Miwa hadn’t even opened her mouth when his phone started buzzing again. 

Shouyou – his screen said. 

He smirked,  “the idiot’s calling,” he snickered to Miwa. The woman clapped her hands enthusiastically, “pick up! Pick up!” she chanted. 

Kenma’s stretched his legs out, resting his head across his armrest just a little more comfortably, “send me screenshots?” he asked. 

Miwa snorted, “did you really expect me to leave you hanging?”

Kenma didn’t have to think about it – he didn’t. 

“Just go already,” Miwa told him before her voice turned a little sterner, “and don’t forget to report back.”

Kenma grinned, “yes ma’am,” he said. 

He took a calming breath before switching lines. Before he even got the chance to greet his friend, Shouyou was already rambling on and on about the bakery he visited. Kenma laughed loud enough for him to slow down a little. 

“Shouyou,” Kenma said as he settled even further into his couch,  “tell me what happened. From the beginning.”

Shouyou was more than happy to comply. His energetic voice boomed through the speaker as Kenma took a sip of his tea – Earl Grey, today. 

“Kenma,” Shouyou said, voice filled with anticipation as if he was about to drop the biggest bomb of the millenium on him. “You’ll never believe who I ran into today…”

Kenma took another sip of his drink. He wasn’t at all bothered by the slightly bitter aftertaste. After all, his night was about to get a whole lot sweeter.