Work Text:
It was quiet in the Kageyama household when Tobio woke up. It always was. Some household, he thought to himself as he got ready for the day. He spent a lot of his time alone. He was no stranger to eating by himself, or cooking for himself, though his cooking skills still left something to be desired. It wasn’t that difficult to make his own breakfast, clean up the mess, and leave for early morning practice without ever speaking a word to another person.
It was sort of lonely, though.
He bit his lip and focused on cutting up his avocado. He hadn’t gotten through middle school by dwelling on how alone he was, and there was no point to wallowing in self-pity. No one cared, he thought, as his knife cut deftly into his breakfast. And it didn’t matter.
Some small part of him wanted it to matter, though. Wanted someone to stop and look and care about him, and how weird and unpleasant he felt, and how much he tried to connect with people even though it was so, so hard. Why couldn’t someone pay attention to him? Why wouldn’t anyone give a shit about him when it wasn’t about volleyball? His teammates only liked him because he was good at it. No one ever wanted to hang out with him after practice. They were afraid of him, and it was well on its way to becoming middle school all over again. And it wasn’t like he was going to make any friends at school. His face was “terrifying” and “creepy” no matter how hard he tried to smile, and he never knew what to talk about! He couldn’t make himself act like everyone else no matter how hard he tried!
It would be sort of nice if they had to care about him. Something everyone got concerned about. Something even his parents would notice.
He looked at the knife. Everyone cared about injuries. People loved to ask about scars or sign casts. Everyone was immediately concerned with your well-being, and your life, and what had happened and how it had happened and how much it had hurt. And wouldn’t it be so easy to…
He shook his head violently. Stupid, stupid! What kind of an idiot was he, thinking about that sort of thing? That wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Plus it would hurt, and make him late for volleyball! And everyone knew you couldn’t play with an injury. He couldn’t believe he’d considered it. What kind of a desperate fool was he?
He chucked his garbage into the trash can, then turned to put his dishes in the sink. A carelessly left open cabinet door smacked into his forehead and he nearly dropped the dishes, but his excellent reflexes reacted immediately. His quick hands caught the plate and the knife before they hit the floor.
To his credit, he didn’t scream. It took a second for the pain to even register, and then he opened his hand and let the knife clatter to the floor like he should have in the first place. His pulse pounded and his chest felt tight. Blood. His hand. His setting hand.
He swore. Loudly, and without restraint. No one was around to hear him anyway. Now those thoughts seemed even more stupid. What the hell was this supposed to solve? Who was supposed to pay attention to him? Where were they now? He was angrier at himself for thinking something like this would fix anything than he was at himself for catching the stupid knife in the first place. No one was around to take him to the hospital, and instead of getting him a little more attention, it was going to ruin the one thing he had going for him. If he couldn’t play, he was basically useless.
He couldn’t let that happen. He wrapped the cut in a kitchen towel and dumped his breakfast in the trash. There was no time to eat it now. He wasn’t that hungry anyway.
He washed his hand very carefully in the bathroom sink. They didn’t have any gauze, so he put five bandaids on the cut and hoped it would be enough. It didn’t look that deep, so it hopefully, probably didn’t need stitches. Kageyama really, really didn’t want to miss morning practice, and it wasn’t like he knew how he’d get to the hospital anyway. This didn’t seem like an ambulance sort of thing. Maybe a train? He didn’t want to risk it. It was probably fine. He flexed his hand and hissed in pain. But he didn’t cry, so it was probably okay. He just needed to tough it out.
He got ready for school as carefully as possible, hoping his cut would heal by the time he got there. The human body was pretty amazing, so it couldn’t be completely impossible, right? Every time he moved his hand, the stinging pain reminded him of how wrong he was. Fuck.
He just needed a positive attitude, probably. It couldn’t be that bad. It probably wasn’t even bleeding. And who would beat Hinata at the door if he was late, or worse--absent? He rushed in just in time, pushing his sort-of-rival out of his way, but the pain in his hand stopped him from using his usual force, and Hinata fell through the doorway ahead of him. Kageyama practically growled in irritation and disappointment. Surely his hand would be better the next day. A difference of more than a point would be grounds for “winning”, and by no means was he going to let that idiot beat him at anything.
Hinata stuck his tongue out at him and crowed, gloating as he always did when he thought he’d won. That was just salt in his wound. Or maybe that was the sweat he’d worked up running to the door.
“What’s your problem, slow-poke?” Hinata smirked at him, putting those tiny hands on his hips like he was some sort of conquering hero. A real Napoleon, at that height. “Didn’t you eat breakfast this morning?”
Kageyama grumbled a “no” as he pushed past him, in no mood to play games. He just had to make it through practice and everything would be fine. He could go to the nurse when school had started and deal with the consequences of his stupidity later without the team ever knowing. Easy. If this brat would leave him alone, of course.
“Oi!” Hinata called, frowning. “Are you mad at me or something?” He jogged after his setter, not smart enough to let well enough alone.
“I said piss off!” Kageyama hissed, despite having said no such thing. Hinata didn’t take the hint.
“Hey, what’s up with your hand? You okay, man?”
The concern felt weird, especially coming from him. This was what he’d wanted so desperately this morning, wasn’t it? But why did it feel like cheating now? His stomach turned, probably complaining about being empty, and Kageyama hurried off to help get ready for practice before he could think too much about why he felt weird when Hinata looked so worried about him.
Hinata frowned, but didn’t push it again. If Kageyama was still acting weird after practice, then he’d confront him the old fashioned way. But there was no sense in having to run laps again for a spat with an idiot like that, especially so early in the morning.
Kageyama lasted almost three minutes. Two of those minutes were filled with a dramatic outburst from Nishinoya, who accused Tsukishima of not having enough fighting spirit at seven in the morning for his tastes, and Tsukishima’s rebuttal that no one was meant to be awake at such an hour but it must have been easier for idiots to wake up early since they had no brains to activate. Daichi sentences both of them to laps, and then gestured at Kageyama to start the practice 3-on-3. He swallowed. And stalled. And bounced and spun the ball, trying to make it look perfect.
And he tossed up the ball. And hit it. And screamed.
He sunk to his knees as cries of “what the hell was that” and “are you alright?” came at him from every direction. He wasn’t alright. His hand was on fire, and probably going to melt off. He really needed that hand. This was very, very inconvenient.
To his credit, despite being on the other side of the gym only seconds ago, Hinata was the first one at his side.
“Hey, what’s the problem?” He asked, trying to see the injury up close.
“It’s nothing,” Kageyama lied, heart suddenly constricting with the amount of people around him. Even the third years were looking at him with concern. Tsukishima just looked relieved that no one was counting his laps. He felt sick. Volleyball was the one thing he never failed at. They were surely going to kick him out of the club now. His team would go on without him. They didn’t deserve a useless member anyway.
Hinata’s eyes flashed in that scary way they did sometimes and Kageyama stared back, startled into paying attention.
“It’s definitely something if you screamed like that!”
“He’s right,” Suga said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “If you’re injured, you need to let us know. Not make it worse trying to play with it.”
“You’ll never heal if you keep stressing the wound,” Daichi added. “You need to take time to recover. Go to the nurse and get it fixed up, and then we’ll talk about what you can and can’t do when you get back.” He folded his arms for emphasis, and Kageyama felt relief mixing with his shame. They weren’t going to kick him out. What kind of idiot would believe something like that? He was going to be fine. It was just a cut.
And his family--this family--cared about his recovery.
“You can still run with a bum hand.” Tsukishima sneered at him, and Yamaguchi giggled. Kageyama narrowed his eyes and clenched his hand defiantly.
“Then I’ll damn well run faster and farther than you, you slacker.”
Noya and Tanaka howled, ready to start a fight. Asahi looked nervous.
“Come on, guys...”
Suga stared them all down. The noise settled almost immediately.
Daichi cleared his throat.
“Hinata, take him to the nurse. Make sure he doesn’t walk off. The rest of you, let’s get back to work. We’ll practice drills instead.” He clapped his hands and their teammates scrambled. There was no time to waste.
Hinata smiled and offered his setter a hand up.
“Careful you don’t use the hurt one!”
Kageyama eyed him, unsure if he was making a jab, but decided to take it anyway. Hinata pulled him up with a little jump with surprising strength, but he still complained.
“Oof, you’re heavy!!”
“I’ll show you heavy, dumbass.” He lunged at him to give him something to regret his comment, but stopped short. There was no use with his hand injured.
Hinata stepped as far away as he could while he had the chance.
“Haha! Now you can’t get me!”
Kageyama made a fist.
“I’ll remember what I owe you.”
Hinata gulped.
They quietly walked side-by-side to the nurse’s office, unfortunately all the way across the school. Hinata wanted to challenge his friend to a race, but figured he wasn’t in the mood, and hummed instead.
“Stop that.”
“What for?” Hinata stuck his hands in his pockets and hopped over the lines in the tile.
“It’s annoying.”
“Phooey, you were already annoyed.”
Kageyama couldn’t argue with that, but Hinata thankfully stopped. He wasn’t about to let his mouth stop running, though.
“How’d you hurt your hand, anyway?”
“Shut up.”
“Come on, I want to know!!”
Kageyama huffed and tried to avoid eye contact with his bouncing teammate.
“You have to tell the nurse anyway,” Hinata probed.
“Yeah, her. Not you.”
“I’ll still be there!!”
“It’s none of your business!!”
Both of them glared at each other indignantly.
Hinata broke it first, folding his arms and snorting.
“Bet it was something embarrassing.”
“Was not!”
“So prove it!”
Kageyama glared at him. Hinata stared back, refusing to back down.
“Fine.”
“Yes!”
“I was making breakfast, and I dropped my knife. So. I caught it.” He tried to fold his arms, but winced.
“What??” Hinata grinned. “Oh my god, you’re kidding.”
“Am not!”
Hinata laughed.
“That’s great! Gravity was all like, woosh! But then your reflexes were like, zhooom!!” hinata jumped excitedly, gesturing along with the sound effects. Kageyama was glad he’d left out the part about hitting his head.
“Yeah.”
“Soooo cool. But you caught the blade! That’s bad! You should have gone for the handle, you goof.”
“I wasn’t thinking about it!”
Hinata laughed again, but stopped abruptly.
“Oh man, but if you’re out, who’s going to set for me?”
Kageyama squared his shoulders and looked away.
“Someone else, I guess. You should practice with Suga-san anyway.” He didn’t have to be happy about it, though.
“But I want to do it with you! I want to do our thing!” Hinata stomped his feet. “That’s like, the best part of practice! It won’t be the same without you!”
Kageyama’s stomach felt funny. He was probably still just hungry. That had to be it.
“I’ll still be at practice. Don’t whine.”
“But-!” He frowned. “I’ll still miss you!”
Kageyama’s stomach flipflopped. Now he was the half of the duo with indigestion.
“Let’s….just….get this over with.” He mumbled, running the final steps of their path to the nurse’s office.
“No fair! I thought you wouldn’t run!”
“That’s your fault!”
They shoved into the room, Kageyama quietly noting that they were even again, no matter what Hinata would say later. Competition over, they looked around.
Empty.
“I guess...She doesn’t come until school starts?”
“Maybe she’s busy.”
Hinata shrugged.
“I guess we just have to wait.”
They flopped in unison on opposite cots. They waited. They yawned. And they got impatient.
Hinata was the first to sit back up.
“You know, I’m certified in first aid.”
“No you aren’t.” Kageyama sat up to look at him.
“Am too! I took a lesson at the library!” He huffed. “I have a card in my wallet, even, but that’s back with my stuff in the club room.”
“So you can’t do anything.”
“I can put bandages on. And then we can get back to practice!”
Kageyama had to admit that that was a tempting option, even if he wasn’t sure he trusted Hinata with something as precious as his hands.
“Well....I guess.”
Hinata jumped up and cheered.
“But don’t fuck it up!”
“I won’t, I won’t!” Hinata pouted and sat next to Kageyama on his cot. He held his own hand out and, slowly, his teammate lowered his hand into Hinata’s for inspection.
There was something thrilling about touching hands like this. Maybe it was just the raw power they contained. The sense that they knew their way around a volleyball. That was exciting enough to cause this feeling, right?
Hinata tried to focus. He carefully peeled back the bandaids one after the other, never touching the wound. Kageyama was actually sort of surprised at how gentle this loud-mouth could be.
“Yikes.”
“What?”
“That’s got to hurt.”
Oh.
“Yeah.” It felt weird to admit it, especially with Hinata hovering so close. He probably still thought he was stupid for grabbing at the knife.
“Hold still,” Hinata complained, and he rested his head on Kageyama’s shoulder to steady himself. Kageyama gulped. Hinata carefully inspected the cut, manipulating his hand to see better. He was so warm it felt like sitting next to the sun.
“We need to wash this.”
“I-” Kageyama cleared his throat. “I already did.”
“Yeah, well, it’s kept bleeding since then. So you have to listen to me anyway.”
Kageyama wasn't happy about it, but he surrendered to Hinata and let him drag him to the sink.
"I can wash my own hands," he snapped as Hinata tried to help him. Hinata folded his arms.
"I don't want you to hurt it worse!"
"I won't! Back off!"
"Hmph!"
Kageyama carefully washed his hands with Hinata hovering over him, then let himself be led back to the cot.
"So we just need to put antibacterial stuff on it, and then I can bandage it!"
"So get it over with already."
"There's no need to be rude when I'm holding your injured hand, you jerk!"
They stared at each other for a second, then both, slowly, looked at their clasped hands.
Both of them blushed. Hinata dropped his hand and deliberately looked in the opposite direction from Kageyama’s red face.
"I'll just get that, then!!"
"Yeah..."
Hinata tore the nurse's office apart looking for the right supplies. Kageyama kicked his legs and wished he'd actually eaten before he came to school. His stomach felt...weird.
And it was only getting worse.
"Ooohhh! Kageyama!"
Kageyama looked at him, where he was standing triumphantly in the midst of a disaster area.
"You can't just toss around the nurse's office like that, dumbass!! You're going to get us in trouble!"
"Relax! I'll clean it back up. Besides, it's their fault for not putting in an obvious place!"
"More like you're dumb for not knowing where it ought to be!"
Hinata made a face at Kageyama and grabbed his hand a little more roughly than necessary.
"Hey!!"
"Don't be a baby."
"I'm not a baby! You're a baby!"
Hinata sprayed the antibacterial solution on the cut and Kageyama yelped.
“Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaby.”
“You should have warned me!”
“You’ve taken worse!”
“That doesn’t mean you can just-”
Hinata raised the hand and gently kissed the cut.
Kageyama stared at him like he’d said volleyball was a boring sport.
“What the hell are you doing??”
Hinata squared his shoulders, immediately defensive.
“What? I always do this for Natsu.”
“Do I look like your little sister to you??”
Hinata snickered, imagining the two of them side by side.
“Not even a little.”
Kageyama huffed.
“What, was it not good enough? I could give you a bigger one.”
“What the hell for??” Kageyama scooted as far back as he could on the cot. Hinata blinked.
“What for? To kiss it better!”
“That’s for kids!” Kageyama balled up his fists. Hinata grinned.
“Yeah, cause you’re acting like one!”
Kageyama flushed.
“I am not! Besides, it doesn’t even work!”
“Yeah it does!! It works all the time!” Hinata grabbed his hand and started wrapping it.
“It’s just meant to distract the kid from the pain! It’s not like it heals you, you idiot!”
“It totally does! It totally does!! Your parents are just doing it wrong!”
Well, that was a possibility. But it wasn’t like kisses were magic, no matter what Hinata might say. A stupid kiss wasn’t going to make his hand or his stomach feel better, and Hinata was stupid for trying.
“Stop making that face!” Hinata tugged on the bandages, pulling them tight.
“What face?? My face always looks like this!”
“No way! You’re thinking something grumpy!”
“How the hell would you know what I’m thinking? You’re too stupid to know what you’re thinking, let alone another person!”
“Ha! You were thinking something rude!”
“You just guessed!”
“No, I knew it! It’s intuition! You don’t think my method is real!”
“Because it isn’t! Kissing things better is fake! Totally fake!”
Hinata secured the bandages carefully.
“Totally real.”
“Then prove it.” Finally able to pull his hand away, Kageyama folded his arms defiantly.
“I will!”
“Will not.”
“Will too!”
Hinata grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him hard, smashing their teeth together and bumping their foreheads.
“Ow!!”
“That was your fault!”
“Let me try again!”
“No way!!” Kageyama tried to pull away. Hinata went in for another one. If practice made you better at volleyball, it had to make you better at kissing. He moved slower this time, pressing their lips together gently.
And this time, Kageyama leaned into it.
Hinata let go of his shirt, reddening.
“There, do you feel better now?”
Kageyama stared at him with his mouth hanging open like a fish.
Hinata got up as fast as he could, starting to clean up his mess. He felt like he could run a hundred kilometers without getting tired. He might have to, if Kageyama kept looking at him like that. What he had done was probably dangerous.
Kageyama, unable to sit still either, jumped off the cot and began to help him. He tried not to look at Hinata, face fire-truck red and stomach still flip flopping. He felt...He felt…
He didn’t know how he felt.
He definitely wasn’t thinking about his hand anymore, but Hinata didn't need to know about that.
Before too long, the nurse’s office looked livable again and they started their long, silent trek back to the gym. The hallways were eerie without students in them and it felt unnatural to be there.
Hinata was the first to break the quiet, a little nervous.
“So, uh...Was that your first kiss?”
Kageyama froze.
“Shut up!”
“So it was!!” Hinata pumped the air with his fist.
“So what if it was!!” Kageyama’s ears went red again and he scowled. “It’s not like kissing is that big of a deal!”
Hinata laughed.
“But I was your first kiss!”
“There’s no way you’ve been kissed before.”
“Rude! I have too! In grade school, I got married by the slide.”
“That doesn’t count.” Kageyama shoved him. Hinata just giggled and bounced back.
“How would you know, kiss-virgin?”
“I’m not anymore!”
Kageyama glared right at him. Hinata’s heart fluttered.
“Yeah. I guess that’s true.”
“It is.”
The silence lasted a while longer.
“Hey, Kageyama?”
Kageyama looked at him, sure this would just be more bullshit, but Hinata didn’t look mischievous this time. He looked...anxious?
“What.”
“D’you, um. Do you wanna do that some more?”
Kageyama stopped walking, heart suddenly in his throat. More kissing? Why? To tease him about at practice?
“What for?”
Hinata howled, throwing his arms in the air.
“What for?? What do you kiss for, Kageyama?? For fun! It’s just supposed to be fun!”
He could practically see the cogs turning in Kageyama’s brain. This wasn’t going anywhere. Who was the dumbass now?
“I want to kiss you again!” He clarified. “Maybe a lot! I mean, I thought about it before, and...It sounded sort of scary-”
“Scary?”
“But it felt...guuwaaah! And waaaoooh! And I want to try it again! Especially if we can’t practice our quick forever, it’s going to feel weird not being by your side!”
Kageyama blinked.
“What?”
“Don’t just stand there when I’m telling you I like you!”
“You like me?” Kageyama was floored. He couldn’t feel his face. Maybe he was smiling? Maybe he was having a heart attack. Maybe he was hallucinating. “You’re fucking with me.”
“Noooooooooooooooo!” Hinata slammed his fists into Kageyama’s chest. “You can’t call people stupid when you’re this stupid, stupid! I. Like. You. Plain and simple. And-” He took a deep breath. “If you don’t. Um. Like me back. That’s cool. Just--say something, okay?”
Kageyama looked at his hand. And then at Hinata. Hinata, who was always so terribly earnest. It was hard to imagine him pulling a mean prank, especially one where no one was watching. He wasn’t the type to fake something like this.
Something like...whatever this was. With kissing. And holding hands. And maybe that weird feeling in his stomach that kept growing bigger wasn’t hunger, but nerves, and excitement. Possibility.
He had never been in a relationship before.
And he could probably beat up Hinata if this was some kind of horrible prank. But that glitter in his bright eyes didn’t say fake. It said ‘please’. Hope.
“Yeah, okay,” he whispered. And it felt like jumping off a tall building.
“Yes!!” Hinata jumped right into his arms and kissed him. And that felt like flying.
No matter what his life at home was like, he wasn’t alone anymore.
