Chapter Text
It’s like opening your eyes underwater; the picture is blurry, and only vague shapes can be seen. It sounds like being underwater, too, thinks Kageyama. He hears beeping, but its sounds rather far away. He blinks a few times, hoping to clear the brain fog. The first thing he registers is that he is lying down. Not so odd there, but it’s not his bed in his apartment. But he knows he went to sleep, so how did he end up in this bed with entirely white bedding surrounded by what looks like tv monitors? His addled brain can only draw one conclusion: ‘Ahh, I must be dreaming.’
That’s the last time he lets Hoshiumi goad him into drinking who knows what concoction after their win. Tch. And now he is stuck in this dream until his brain can fumble its way out the alcohol-induced stupor. Damn that white-haired midget man. Kageyama’s brain doesn’t realise that he is not in an alcohol-induced stupor but rather the daze of a mild anesthetic. A soft laugh, pure and tinkling, averts his gaze from the ceiling to his right. Somebody else is in his ‘dream.’ Somebody rather short. He knows it’s not his teammate from the soft orange curls on the person’s head. They are not looking at him; their attention on the tv monitors. It allows Kageyama to examine this somebody - a man judging by the strong shoulders and broad back. It contrasts the tapered waist, which leads the eye to --. Well, it’s definitely a dream because Kageyama, even in his career as a pro athlete across the globe, can definitively, without a doubt crossing his mind, think that that is the plumpest, most simultaneously defined, and soft, golden peach-globed ass he has ever seen! He is unsure where his brain found the inspiration to create such an illusion, but he feels his hand spasm. For all his volleyball fame and title as a sexyman setter, Kageyama has not been with anyone in ….a while. It’s not like his curt replies and perpetual pout do him any favours. He is focused on volleyball, and why can’t people accept that? But this isn’t reality, and before his brain can dissect what exactly is happening, his arm reaches out to grab a handful of round cheeks.
“Gwaaaaah!?!?!?!” It should dawn on Kageyama that you cannot feel warmth in a dream, but all his mind supplies is, “Huh, firmer than I thought.”
“Would you kindly remove your hand from my ass Kageyama-san?” comes from the face attached to the butt, which Kageyama is still holding.
“What?” Kageyama’s brain is not upholding the lightning reflexes he is known for.
“I said remove your hand from my butt Kageyama-san. You are in a hospital. Do you remember why you are here?” the ginger prompts. Kageyama quickly removes his hand and looks around the room. Hospital bed, hospital-issued white linen, and monitors surround him. Oh shit, he isn’t in a dream, and he just grabbed some stranger’s ass. What exactly did he drink?