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Shouyou is going to die.
He is going to grow blisters on his skin and his blood will catch fire and he’ll collapse at the ripe old age of twenty-four and it will all be Kageyama’s fault. Him and that stupid (genius, incredible, godly) photographer.
Allow him to explain.
It had started innocently enough. Shouyou had made a comment—a suggestion, a joke, and definitely not something that could be used to point the blame towards him later—about Kageyama maybe, potentially, being horrible to look at.
And okay, he knows how that sounds. He knows it makes him look like a hypocrite and a liar, but it hadn’t been entirely his fault. Kageyama had just been standing there! Doing nothing! And he’d made something in Shouyou’s stomach swoop so hard he feared his lunch was going to make a surprise re-appearance.
So naturally, because he had been dealing with this phenomenon for close to a decade, Shouyou had deflected, opted for the attack. He’d called Kageyama stupid-looking, and had promptly wanted to smack himself because way to be mature, Shouyou. But, because some things changed but they hadn’t, Kageyama had taken the bait.
Had turned it into a bet.
See, he wouldn’t have, back when they were young. He’d ‘tch’ at Shouyou, call him a dumbass, maybe challenge him in something else. But he wouldn’t care about this.
Unfortunately for Shouyou, however, fame and fortune had ruined him.
See, Kageyama was hot. Always had been. And while Shouyou could, begrudgingly, accept that the world found out about it once he went pro, it was another thing entirely for Kageyama to realize it too.
Alas, truths like this barely ever stayed hidden, and so Shouyou had to watch in horror as Kageyama’s perfect brows quirked up in surprise when he was first told. How his lips parted and his face opened up in genuine, childlike wonder. How it closed off quickly, how his brows drew together in a frown and his lips pulled into a pout.
How he looked, for lack of better words, adorable. All because he thought he was being pranked.
And Shouyou shouldn’t have felt as giddy and smug as he did when he watched the truth fly over Kageyama Tobio’s head—when that left his best friend feeling like the butt of a cruel joke. But Kageyama Tobio was still pouting when Shouyou took him back to the MSBY dorms afterwards, and he was the one who got to wash the troubled look away just by hanging out with him. By reminiscing on the good old days. By being a dumbass and letting Kageyama be one in return.
That had been a nice day.
The one a month later had been a bit less so.
Because this time, when Kageyama was told how excruciatingly hot he was, he seemed to believe it. This time, when Kageyama was told how excruciatingly hot he was, it came from not one but a hundred mouths—a horde of fans that were nothing if not brutally honest. This time, when Kageyama was told how excruciatingly hot he was, his eyes lit up in recognition, and the smirk that washed over his face nearly sent Shouyou into cardiac arrest.
And so it began.
Now, don’t get him wrong, Shouyou loved his friend and wished him the very best in life, but something about watching Kageyama Tobio realize how hot he was—and just what he could do with that hotness—had pushed Shouyou to the brink of insanity.
Something about watching him accept more media assignments and killing them, in his own dorky way, had almost been too much. And when Shouyou went to find refuge on the internet, said internet had him throwing his phone against his mattress in a fit of pure rage.
…and maybe just the littlest bit of lust.
Because there he was, for the whole entire world to see: Kageyama Tobio in all his ethereal glory. Fancams, screenshots, and videos took over Shouyou’s phone in no time. There was nowhere to hide when Kageyama’s hotness was taking twitter by storm.
So Shouyou’s best friend was sexy, and ever since that fateful day two years ago, he knew it.
He’s been making it Shouyou’s problem ever since.
Well… Shouyou supposes Kageyama doesn’t know he’s been making his life a living hell. It’s not like he goes around screaming about it (in public). No, that would be too much like admitting defeat, and Shouyou may be older now, but wiser he is not.
Still, something inside him has been brewing. Something uncannily similar to jealousy, but not quite like it either. Something he’s been trying to put his finger on since he was freshly seventeen.
Now, no matter how often he’s been accused of the opposite, Shouyou isn’t stupid. He knows it’s not just friendship he feels when Kageyama’s around, nor is it the spark of their rivalry. No, the spark is lit by something else, something he knows to name but is still afraid to.
Something simmering like attraction and dazzling like love.
But Kageyama’s never been interested in things like that, and Shouyou would rather chop off a limb than lose him altogether. Besides, he’s lived this long with that knife in his chest, what’s the harm in twisting it a little?
No matter that the breath is punched from his lungs whenever Kageyama smiles. No matter that his skin is set alight when Kageyama returns his affectionate touches, familiar as they are nowadays. No matter that the air crackles when Shouyou turns to him after a spike, no matter the pull he has on him.
It’s fine.
Shouyou is greedy, always has been greedy, but this is fine. This is the greatest form of restraint he’s ever shown, and it is fine. He’s happy. Kageyama’s happy. They reached the summit, made their biggest dreams come true, together.
How could that be anything but fine?
What’s not fine, however, is Kageyama Tobio going around wreaking havoc on Shouyou’s poor heart. He should know better, honestly, than to take his challenges so seriously.
It seems like he doesn’t really give a shit though.
“Still stupid?” he asks, but the smugness of his smirk tells Shouyou he already knows the answer is no. Infuriating bastard.
Still:
“Yes,” Shouyou says, a challenge in his smile because there’s no way he’ll let Kageyama get his way this easily. “Red isn’t your color.”
It’s a lie, of course. Shouyou still remembers the night Kageyama sent him a picture in his first national team jersey. If he concentrates hard enough he can still see the sharp angles of his hips where he’d pulled the fabric up, can imagine the happy flush of his cheeks, another shade of red entirely. Softer, vulnerable, proud.
He hadn’t looked bad at all.
He doesn’t look bad now either.
He’s wearing a sweater so cropped that the littlest of movements could expose his nipples, undoubtedly pebbled in the air-conditioned room. The garment is pulled up by a single bow, which Shouyou curses like it's personally strangled his entire family because how dare it expose him to so much of Kageyama’s chiseled torso? And is that boob he sees? The scandal!
But Kageyama just hums, then turns back to the team frantically wetting his hair and skin. “If you say so.”
Shouyou said so, but Shouyou’s a liar. Something that becomes even more apparent when a man pops a popsicle into Kageyama’s waiting mouth and a bucket-hat is placed on Kageyama’s dripping locks, and Shouyou bites his tongue so hard he tastes copper.
And Kageyama doesn’t even do much, just stands there like he had when this whole stupid bet started, but Shouyou feels his breath hitch. The flash goes off again and again and again, but Shouyou barely registers it.
Kageyama looks… he looks.
Ugh!
He looks stylish and sweaty and pornographically satisfied with the relief the popsicle offers him, and what is up with that?
“Ah, that’s exactly what I was going for, Hinata-senshu. That is why this project is called ‘heat stroke’, it is supposed to evoke heat in the audience by emoting heat in the model.”
So maybe Shouyou said that out loud. That’s definitely not embarrassing. That’s definitely not something he’ll jolt awake from when he needs a good night’s rest. Neither is the little snort of laughter Kageyama lets out into the room. Absolutely not.
Shouyou turns to glare at him anyway, and is promptly rendered speechless.
Because Kageyama’s clad in a tee shirt now, so tight that Shouyou’s afraid the thread will snap, that Kageyama’s arms will tear right through the fabric and he’ll be left in the tattered remains.
He doesn’t think he’ll survive that.
“You’re catching flies.”
He quickly snaps his jaw shut. “Am not!”
Kageyama’s eyes sparkle with amusement. Because he is the worst. “Whatever you say, dumbass.”
Shouyou grumbles something about Kageyama being an obnoxious jerk that he’s only half-sure Kageyama doesn’t hear, then puts his arms over each other and sits down with a petulant huff. Who does Kageyama think he is? Soaping himself up like…
Oh dear jesus.
“Like this? Oi—Hinata, where are you going?”
“Nowhere—Nothing! It’s nothing! You carry on with your… modeling stuff…”
“Hey—!”
Shouyou doesn’t hear the rest of Kageyama’s indignant shout, but then again there isn’t much he does hear over the ringing in his ears.
How could he when his heart is fit to burst?
And it’s dumb, really, for him to get emotional over something like this, something meant to be silly, meant as a joke. Something Shouyou goaded Kageyama into doing knowing that he would exceed his expectations. Knowing that it would break his heart to see it.
Because this? This confident, comfortable Kageyama that’s about to grace the cover of GQ magazine? He is not Shouyou’s and Shouyou’s alone.
He never has been.
No matter how much Shouyou has wished for those breathtaking smiles to be directed solely at him. No matter how much he aches for Kageyama’s comfort to comfort him. No matter how much he longs for playful banter to turn into playful touches, playful kisses. Playful because they have an endless supply of them. Playful because they can be, because they aren’t always so. Because they can turn heavy, turn soft, turn loving and wanton at the turn of a dime.
Because he can kiss Kageyama whenever he wants. Because Kageyama will always kiss him in return.
Painful, because it isn’t so. Painful, because for years he’s wanted it to be. Painful, because Shouyou has never been a coward but for this he is. Painful, because he doesn’t know how not to be. Painful, because he doesn’t know why he can’t.
He’s wanted things before.
To be the greatest decoy. To be the greatest, period. To climb the mountain and enjoy the view from the summit. To stand there, on top of the world, and feel the wind ruffle his feathers. To look to his right and see the man who helped craft them.
Kageyama Tobio, it seems, is inherently important to any story Hinata Shouyou chooses to tell. And like all those other times, whether Shouyou was sick from fever or sick from joy, it doesn’t take long for him to find him.
“Hey,” he whispers and Shouyou looks up from the softness of it, the gentleness. Kageyama smiles, small and unsure, and slides down next to him.
Shouyou huffs a laugh, only cringes a little when it comes out wet. “You’re getting the wall all soapy,” he says, and watches Kageyama’s smile open just the gentlest of bits.
“Ah, it can probably use a wash.”
Shouyou hums, and turns back to stare ahead. He feels calmer already, Kageyama’s presence apparently enough to make him so, and he only mourns what could have been a little. What he has now is good too, after all.
Kageyama does not seem to agree, he breaks the silence.
“What’s up with you?”
Shouyou smiles at him, but he knows he can’t fool his friend much longer.
“Nothing,” he says regardless. “I’m fine.”
Kageyama’s frown deepens. “You’re hiding in a hallway,” he notes. “Clearly you aren’t fine.”
And oh how wonderful this man has become. How clever, how clear. And oh how Shouyou wishes he could be as brave as him, how honest.
How stupid Shouyou is that he isn't, because what does he have to lose? What will he suffer when Kageyama has never let him fall? What will it hurt to just tell him how he feels, to finally, finally, let out the beast that's been clawing at his chest since he first learned to keep his eyes open.
What could it break, when Kageyama looks at him like this?
So Shouyou looks back at him, at the foam clinging to his arms, the water collecting on his chest, and he sighs.
“You’re hot.”
He watches as Kageyama’s mouth opens, then closes again, then stays gaping like a fish gasping for air. Shouyou knows it’s not just the makeup when a flush spreads across his cheeks.
Maybe he can have the upper hand at last.
“You’re so hot,” he says again, whine slipping into his voice because it’s not fair. Actually… “It’s not fair! You can do absolutely nothing and just look like… like you fell out of the sky or something!”
“From heaven?” Kageyama supplies softly, like he can barely believe it, and Shouyou wants to headbutt him. On his lips. With his own lips. Upon further reflection maybe he doesn’t want to headbutt him at all.
“Fucking— yes, you jerk! You’re so annoying! With your… Your sex appeal!”
“Me?” It’s Kageyama whose voice rises now, who steps away from the wall and gestures at Shouyou like he’s lost his damn mind. “And what about you then? That Volleyball Monthly shoot last month? Your matches? You’re such a fucking hypocrite, Shouyou!”
“Tobio.”
“What?”
“Kiss me.”
Kageyama doesn’t need to be told twice. Not that Shouyou gives him much of a choice to do anything but comply. He grabs onto the tee, utterly drenched, and crashes their mouths together. He doesn’t even mind getting wet when Kageyama kisses him back like he’s on the edge of starvation, within sal vation.
He kisses him back like he’s wanted to for the entire decade they’ve known each other. He slides his fingers through Shouyou’s hair and lets himself be pulled closer and Shouyou is drenched and he doesn’t give a shit.
“You’re—so—stupid,” he laughs through kisses, softer pecks now that they know they won’t let go.
“Still a hypocrite,” Kageyama gripes back, but his smile grows so big that Shouyou can no longer kiss him. Instead, he stares, watches fondness paint Kageyama’s face in streaks of gold, sees what’s been right in front of him all along.
“You’re pretty too,” he offers, and laughs when Kageyama punches him softly. He’s not so easily deterred, now that he knows he can say things like this. “Handsome,” he adds, and presses another kiss to Kageyama’s lips. “And sweet, and talented, and thoughtful, and silly, and… and mine.”
Kageyama lets his head fall, lets it rest against Shouyou’s, right where it belongs. “Yours,” he whispers. “I’d like that.”
“Yeah?” Shouyou whispers back.
“Yeah.”
He bites back a smile. “Even if I’m a hypocrite?”
Kageyama headbutts him in the shoulder. “You’re such a shit,” he mumbles into the fabric of his shirt.
“Hmm,” Shouyou hums, and grins when Kageyama lifts his head off his shoulder to pout. “Hot shit.”
“I hate you.”
“Sure, yama-yama.”
“I need to finish the shoot.”
Shouyou feels his heart skip a beat. He doesn’t even care how it comes across when he licks his lips and says, entirely serious. “Yes, you should.”
Kageyama, to his credit, just rolls his eyes and peels his wet skin away, leaving Shouyou to shudder in the hallway. It’s alright though, Shouyou finds. He heats up soon enough. Because Kageyama Tobio gets back in position, lets himself be painted, red like a burn, and smiles at Shouyou like he holds the universe in the palm of his hands.
And he’s hot, excruciatingly so, but he is refreshing too. He is summer rain and winter sun. He is cropped tank tops against red-marred skin. He is the past, the present and the future.
He is entirely Shouyou’s.
And if he gets butterflies when Kageyama takes off his shoot-sanctioned headphones to listen to the encouragement he yells at him, then no one has to know. If those butterflies start fluttering even wilder when that picture is the one that goes viral on twitter, then that is no one’s business but his own.
Still, he likes the picture, throws the internet into even more of a frenzy, and drafts a tweet of his own.
here comes the sun ✓ @ninjashouyou • 4 minutes ago
@KageyamaTobio20 My model. My muse. #Heatstroke <3
🗨️ 289 ⟲ 12.8k ♡ 64.3k
↳ starting setter ✓ @KageyamaTobio20 • 4 minutes ago
<3
🗨️ 109 ⟲ 10.9k ♡ 45.8k
↳ tooru ✓ @oikawa_tooru • 2 minutes ago
this is so violently gay. i approve.
🗨️ 9 ⟲ 9.1k ♡ 12.0k
↳ Goldilocks ✓ @thebettermiya • 1 minute ago
of course *you’d* approve. frootloop.
🗨️ 4 ⟲ 4.1k ♡ 7.1k
↳ Sakusa Kiyoomi. ✓ @SakusaK • 1 minute ago
?
🗨️ 15 ⟲ 6.7k ♡ 9.4k
Yeah. Hinata Shouyou is the luckiest man alive.