Work Text:
The sun prickles his skin, even though it has vanished hours ago. The moon has already taken its place, the city shrouded in cool darkness as it grants a tender light to everything it touches, with the support of the stars surrounding it in a mosaic of black and white.
The sun trusts the moon to bring light even when it's not there.
The moon can only shine so bright because the sun allows it to.
Only together can they bring out the best in each other. A clockwork that functions even without words or battery, a team that communicates without the need of sign and gestures. Naturally functioning.
Kageyama exhales, closes his eyes and takes in the soft sunrays, weak yet still warming his side like a sunset. A setting sun lies in his arms with closed eyes, almost closing the space between him and Kageyama's chest, but not yet. Moonlight falls from the window and gently traces Hinata’s face, tinting his skin in a cooler tone, like paint mixed with too much water, the hue and vibrancy almost fully lost yet still shining. Hinata's breath is even against his chest, slow and peaceful, and Kageyama can’t keep himself from softly tracing his cheek with his free hand.
Getting too close to the sun is painful, always has been, but Kageyama can’t step away anymore. Hinata leaves his insides soaring, skin unharmed. He leaves marks where no one can see, brings light to even the darkest of places within himself and shares a warmth Kageyama has grown to love.
Has always loved, but grown to need.
Kageyama’s finger slows, eyes filled with fondness he might have been embarrassed about under other circumstances. Hinata squints through already closed eyes, nose decorated with soft lines as his lips press tightly against each other and Kageyama stills—stops breathing, stops moving—except for his heart. It beats strongly against his ribs, in fear of waking his sun out of his peaceful slumber, and Kageyama is afraid Hinata can even feel the intensive drumming, fears that the vibrations are carried across the barely existent space between the two. It's just a breath of air, an exhale lost before it can properly form.
Hinata’s face relaxes after a moment of tension, and with it Kageyama’s shoulders fall. He exhales the breath he held as quietly as possible, and a smile he doesn’t even try to hide curls naturally on his lips.
The night is so peaceful. Not a single sound carries through the open window other than the occasional car driving by, a soothing white noise in the background speaking for nothing but the sense of security and habit.
Kageyama’s eyes travel to his own hand, still lightly touching Hinata's cheek. He musters the simple ring of silver and gold hugging his finger tightly, a constant pressure as a constant reminder, and his chest fills with a surge of emotions. Memories fill his mind like a dam being torn down, images and emotions and laughter filling every part of his mind. So many years pass by in his mind, each a silent blessing in their own.
Gently, carefully, Kageyama lowers his head right next to Hinata’s. The position of his arm is a little painful like this, but it's okay. His heart beats fiercely in his chest, strong and powerful and fast—or maybe it has stopped by now, he really can’t say them apart. He sighs once again when suddenly, Hinata moves in his loose embrace.
Hinata nudges closer, shutting the already barely existing space between the two and takes ahold of his shirt. The fabric crinkles in his grasp, smaller fingers than his own curling around it in a fist, but Kageyama can’t mind that, either. He closes his eyes and nudges his head even closer, always making sure not to wake the sleeping sun in his arms, to not force the moon away. He nuzzles the soft tufts greeting his nose, makes sure to keep his movements and breathing as slow and shallow as possible.
Hinata makes another small sound, muffled and lost somewhere in the space between them and then somehow—Kageyama still doesn’t quite understand how—mirrors the action. But instead of the crown of Kageyama’s head, Hinata nuzzles his chest, the place right above Kageyama's ever beating heart. Kageyama’s skin soars once more; the heat travels to the tip of his toes in an instant, and he closes his slightly widened eyes he never noticed opening.
Kageyama inhales deeply, fills his mind and lungs and being with all that is Hinata.
The sun needs the moon as much as the winter needs the summer. They fit together like two puzzle pieces, creating a masterpiece of two.