Work Text:
Shoyo looks at the closed door in front of him.
He has been there for quite a while now, ten minutes maybe, and wonders how it is possible that no neighbour has called the police yet. Because to see someone in the universal downpour, without an umbrella, with only the hood of a sweatshirt (not his) on his head, trying to protect himself from the incessant, pouring rain, standing motionless in front of the gate, must not be reassuring.
He is shivering, but not only because of the cold that the freezing rain is creeping into his bones.
He casts a furtive glance around him. He glances at the lights inside other people's houses, which is heartening, restoring the warmth that the pouring rain has taken away from him. It is dinnertime, so he sees the shadows of people parading before his eyes, busy preparing food.
He closes his eyes, emitting a small sigh, and stretches a finger towards the doorbell.
For a moment he hopes that no one answers. That he is not at home (although he has chosen the moment when he knows perfectly well that, if he is at home, he is alone).
The light that comes on in the hallway extinguishes his last, vain hope. But it also, at the same time, rekindles it for him. For he knows that if he does not do it now, if he does not say it now, he will never do it again.
And now there really is no more time....
Can fear be stronger than the fear of possible regret?
Evidently yes, he is forced to answer himself.
He jumps from one foot to the other, nervous.
And finally, there he is. The door opens.
Tobio.
Kami! How handsome he is.
He knows, he knows! He's had it under his eyes for three years, every single day, he's seen it grow, grow with him. He has seen that back, those shoulders get wider (more comfortable), he has seen the features of the face get more adult, sharper and more strong-willed. More and more beautiful...
And the eyes... ahh, let's not talk about that blue!
But now it's as if Shoyo is really observing him for the first time, with a kind of new attention and awareness.
He wonders, for the umpteenth time, how it is possible that Kageyama is still alone, how it is possible that he has rejected, over those years, all the people - of both sexes - who have come forward.
He slowly lifts his eyes to the whole figure of the other, until he reaches the deep ocean that is Tobio's eyes.
He doesn't seem surprised to see him there, despite the raging perfect storm.
- You are soaked. Come inside. - he whispers, trying to grab him by the sleeve of his sweatshirt (his sweatshirt), but Shoyo stops him, placing a hand on his own.
Now! Now, right now, otherwise it will be too late.
Is he insane? Selfish? Yes! Yes! Absolutely yes.
- Kags, I have two things to say to you. I don't know if at least one of them will please you. - He tries to giggle but looks at Tobio's serious face.
Tobio has already understood both those things. And long ago. That's why his grip on Shoyo's wrist becomes more sure and direct and he drags him inside the house, closing the front door behind them.
And Shoyo feels them, Tobio's lips on his, feels one hand rest on the nape of his neck and the other on his lower back, to push him even harder against him. Their bodies collapse into each other, melting, trying to create one.
Tobio wants to cross that line. He is hungry for touch. Of Shoyo.
Just as Shoyo is hungry for him. That's the first of the two.
As for the second, they don't want to think about it. Not in that moment. At the moment when, without ever breaking away from the other's lips, Tobio is pulling him back towards the living room, towards the sofa. Shoyo couldn't have wished for a first kiss between the two of them other than that.
For the first time since his decision, Shoyo feels himself wavering. Does it really make sense to leave? To go away for two years?
Two years... that's a long time!
It's an anguished sigh that escapes his lips at that thought, the moment Tobio lays him down on the sofa with an unsettling delicacy.
He sees him rise from his body.
- I am waiting for you... - Tobio whispers on his lips.
Tobio understood him, understood what was stirring inside him. As always.
Kami, how could he not read inside those blue eyes sooner? To read all that love overflowing into them?
- Fly for me, Shoyo. -
- I will. Don't ever take your eyes off me, please. -
- I never did. - is the promise.
