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Hinata Shouyou is dense. A little bit. (Sort of.)
He knows this, of course, he’s not stupid. Just dense in an ‘obtuse’ kind of way, not dense in a ‘total dimwit’ kind of way (no matter what some people might have you believe).
The point being, Hinata Shouyou is dense; so dense sometimes that he takes forever to properly get certain things.
Math, for example. Or the whole of the English language. Or why volleyball isn’t the world’s most beloved pastime yet (seriously, what’s up with that?).
Or why Kageyama keeps looking at him like that.
The first time Shouyou catches ‘The Look’, it’s half-way during their first year in high school. It’s not the sharp, piecing stare Kageyama usually gives him, or any of his scary scowls (of which that guy has, like, twenty different versions, all of them horrifying), or even his so-annoyed-with-you-right-now-Hinata-please-go-die-somewhere-in-a-ditch glares.
It’s subtle. Discreet. Almost shy.
(And just a little confused, not to mention confusing.)
Shouyou catches it only sometimes, whenever Kageyama doesn’t think he’s looking, whenever Shouyou whips his head around for some reason or another (“Did you see that? Did you see what I did?!”) and finds Kageyama already looking at him, and then quickly looking away (“Everyone saw that, dumbass, don’t make such a big deal out of it.”).
Or whenever Kageyama watches him out of the corner of his eyes—watches and watches, for just a bit longer than seems necessary—and he probably thinks Shouyou doesn’t notice, except Shouyou’s a human being and, even though he’s pretty often focused on one thing and one thing only and therefore mostly plagued with tunnel vision, his actual vision still covers roughly 180 degrees, give or take a few. And that means that he sometimes does see what Kageyama’s doing, which is looking at him. (“Um... did you want something from me?” “Tch. ’Course not.” “Are you sure?” “... Go back to your studies, idiot.”)
Shouyou doesn’t mind much, really.
He’s gotten so used to Kageyama’s presence—more so than anyone else’s, to be honest, and isn’t that kind of ironic?—that he doesn’t really care anymore what exactly Kageyama does with that presence (only cares that he’s there). Hell, half the time Shouyou’s looking for him anyway, so it’s more than likely a two-way street, except when Shouyou looks he does it openly, properly; he wants Kageyama’s attention, after all. (And if he doesn’t get it, he knows ways to make himself felt.)
Kageyama, though, he’s subtle while looking (and looking and looking and looking), and Shouyou, being Shouyou, he doesn’t mind much, he really doesn’t.
But he does wonder.
A little bit.
(Sort of.)
-
The Look shifts during their time together. Becomes scared (not scary?), annoyed (but frustrated annoyed??), and then finally settles on some emotion Shouyou doesn’t get at all, no matter how hard he tries to dissect it. It makes Kageyama’s face contort weirdly, stupidly, and it’s still subtle but it’s there, it looks painful and lost and not at all like what Kageyamas are supposed to look like—pissed off or frightening or sometimes... adorable (maybe?)—and Shouyou just. He doesn’t get it. At all.
That Look, though—the one with the weird, painful emotion in it—that one finally stays.
It’s what Kageyama’s face seems to have settled on, in those odd few moments, and it stays all throughout the end of their first year, the whole of their second year, and then well into their third year. By then, Shouyou’s gotten so accustomed to it that he kind of stops thinking about it, mostly, just accepts it as is, as he’s accepted virtually everything about Kageyama (and it’s a secret, a well-kept one, but accepting Kageyama was much easier than he first thought it would be; he’s really glad for having him at his side, after all).
It takes Yachi, bless her sweet, sweet soul, and a tiny slip of the tongue—or rather, not—to finally put everything into perspective for dense Shouyou.
“I’m really gonna miss you all,” she says one day, when they’re pouring over their homework, and they’ve somehow gotten to talking about leaving high school and joining different universities and having to actually part to do that—something neither of them is too eager to even think about. “Just. I love you all so much, you know.” She takes Shouyou’s hands in hers, squeezes softly, a little teary-eyed but smiling still.
“I love you Shouyou!” she blurts, voice high-pitched and words tripping all over each other, and then even quicker, “I mean, not like Kageyama, not that kind of love, of course, but! You know, all of you, every single one of my boys, and that includes you too!” She sniffs then, lets go of his hands, blushing viciously. “I just wanted you to know that,” she whispers.
Sniffling once more, Yachi wipes at the tears in her eyes with her palm, smudging her mascara at the ends a little bit. She’s laughing as she continues, a little self-consciously, and it seems she must’ve completely missed the fact that the boy she’s currently talking to has stopped moving and breathing less than a minute ago, that he’s sitting and staring at her open-mouthed with his mind firmly stuck between something like divine enlightenment (somewhere in the back of it Shouyou knows, he knows, that suddenly things make so much more sense) and totally deep-fried (unfortunately, ‘knowing’ doesn’t mean ‘comprehending’, neither is it equal to ‘getting to terms with’).
“Geez, look at me blubbering and stuff, and it’s still a few months till graduation, right, why am I getting so emotional now! But, you know, I just—”
“What?” Shouyou hears himself say and it sounds... almost robotic? Like an automatic response from the telephone company. Seems that the damage to his brain hasn’t quite caught up with his mouth yet, though definitely with his ability to put emotion into his words.
Yachi blinks, still busy wiping a few tears aside. “Mwuh?”
“Wh—what did you just—what?” There. That’s it. That’s building panic. Good to know he’s still functioning on an emotional level, at least.
Although...
“What is it, Shouyou? Did I say something wrong?” Yachi’s looking at him questioningly with her head slightly cocked to the side, eyes wide.
“You—just—Kageya—you—what—he—you—”
Although, ‘functioning’ may not be the right word, after all. More like—crashing.
Yeah.
He’s crashing on an emotional level. And how.
“What do you mean? What is with Kageyama?” Yachi seems honestly confused and, in retrospect, that’s not confusing, not at all. But right now, Shouyou’s still very much caught up in the present, and he’s still trying to process... things. (Worlds collapsing. Universes. Dimensions? Something like that.)
At least he manages to find proper speech again, more or less, long enough to ask, “What—what do you mean ‘that kind of love’—WHAT?!”
Yachi seems to understand, as her eyes finally widen.
(Seems to...)
“Ah, oh no! No, no, no!” she’s saying, motioning wildly with her hands in the air and shaking her head frantically, blushing hard(er). “I didn’t mean—it’s not like I love love you, you know! Like I want to kiss you or anything, I don’t! Well, maybe on the cheek sometimes... AH! Anyway! I just. All of you volley-boys are really, really precious to me? Like I feel like your mother! You know, or your sister! Or something! WAH!!”
The blush on her face grows deeper and darker with every second she keeps babbling on, words muffled now as she hides behind her hands and whimpers in embarrassment. Shouyou’s hardly listening to her, though, barely understanding anything at all (although he does appreciate what Yachi’s trying to convey here, and he feels the same—without the mother part—and he does make a point of telling her later how much she means to him also).
“NO!” Honestly, he doesn’t mean to yell, especially not at Yachi who’s already a mess before him, but he’s kind of lost control of his... everything, really, and he needs to know— “That’s not what I—the other thing! Kageyama! You said—love—you said—” Stuttering again. Great. He can only hope Yachi isn’t as dense as he and doesn’t misinterpret this time, or they’ll never work this out and he’s going to be lost on this forever and always, RIP his poor soul.
Thankfully though, she’s a really clever girl, their Yachi (and bless, bless, bless her for it too), because she finally looks up, peeking at him from between her fingers, and frowns slightly before she mumbles, “Kageyama? He’s... in love with you?” She bites her lip. “I mean, it’s been so long, I know, but I still think he is, kind of? Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable mentioning tha—Shouyou?”
Nope.
Shouyou’s... not there anymore.
Shouyou’s... gone.
Shouyou’s... probably signed off, or something, or another.
(In his mind, there’s a replay button and it’s going, “He’s... in love with you, in love with you, in love with you, IN LOVE WITH YOU—!”)
“Shouyou!” comes Yachi’s voice, through the thick fog crowding his mind, “Are you okay?” A face appears somewhere in his line of vision, big brown eyes that seem to question, probably, framed by, he thinks, familiar golden locks. The face makes really strange grimaces that may or may not constitute concern or something along those lines—Shouyou’s not so sure right now, to be honest. (Shouyou’s not so sure that the world is still round, or still spinning, or still doing anything at all except falling down on top of him and gleefully squashing him to a pulp, tralala.) “Shouyou!”
Everything makes so much more sense!
Kageyama looking at him, subtly, shyly, out of the corner of his eyes. Looking away as soon as he’s caught (and how did Shouyou miss the slight pink hue on his cheeks? How?).
The Look turning from confused to scared to frustrated to—
That mysterious last emotion. Somewhat painful and lost and when put into context...
Oh.
Resignation. Probably.
(So much for ‘mysterious’. No wonder Shouyou could never identify that one before; he’s never even seen it on Kageyama. That guy never, ever, ever resigns, ever. The mere word ‘resignation’ isn’t even in his vocabulary. Or, well, that’s what Shouyou had thought so far...)
Oh fuck.
Oh shit.
Oh—
(Middle of first year? Seriously? Seriously?)
Shouyou finally manages to look up. And Yachi... Yachi finally gets it too.
Gets that Shouyou—dense stupid idiot dumbass Hinata Shouyou that he is—never got it to begin with. Until now.
“Oh my,” Yachi’s saying, and then, in quick succession, “Oh no. Oh god. Oh no. Oh god!” Panic. Shouyou’s well acquainted with that emotion by now. “Please tell me you knew!” she wails, grabs his arms and shakes him hysterically. “Please, oh god, please don’t tell me you didn’t—”
“How was I supposed to know?” He looks her dead in the eye and the words tumble out of his mouth in nothing more than a hollow whisper. But really, how was he supposed to know?
It’s not like Kageyama—who usually always speaks his mind about everything concerning Shouyou, whether it be his (once) underdeveloped volleyball skills or his eating habits or his loud personality, or a hundred other different things that could make the list (and then some)—it’s not like this same Kageyama ever said anything—
“But—he told you!” says Yachi, and at that Shouyou gapes again because WHAT? WHEN? “He told you, that’s what he said. He promised!”
“No,” says Shouyou, “No, he didn’t.” And now he feels something other than panic welling up. Something hotter. (Something cutting.) “No, he didn’t!” Shouyou propels out of his seat with enough force that it effectively frees him of Yachi’s grasp and she squeals in response. Through his teeth he hisses, barely able to keep his voice level, “In fact, no one bothered to tell me. No one! Why? Why didn’t anybody tell me? Why didn’t he tell me?”
Yachi is on her feet as well, looking like some mix between panicked and furious and completely, utterly confused, exactly how Shouyou feels right now. Except she seems also a little scared and that’s probably his fault alone. “I thought—I thought you knew? I thought—” She presses her lips together tightly for a moment, probably against the fresh tears that are already starting to well up in her eyes. (If Shouyou weren’t a total mess of emotions right now, he’d feel bad for making her cry. Again.) “He said he’d talked—he said—he said you shot him down and that it was okay and you were friends still and I shouldn’t ask anymo—”
Shouyou doesn’t wait to hear the rest.
He’s out and gone in a flash.
-
In the short while it takes him to find Kageyama (in the gym, duh, where else?), he’s come up with at least fifteen different scenarios of how this one could go, yet still always comes back to the one that’s probably the least logical but feels most satisfying to his current condition so, naturally, he goes with that one.
Shouyou tackles Kageyama.
There’s no warning—like hell Kageyama deserves it anyway—as he sprints up to him, screaming Kageyama’s name at the top of his lungs at the last possible moment, and then when he turns around Shouyou throws him to the ground using all of his body weight and the force behind his run.
It’s enough, thankfully, and Kageyama falls hard, thuds to the ground with a satisfying Oomph! and his breath leaving his chest all in one gust, hands coming up automatically in a protective manner against the would-be-attacker. But Shouyou’s got him pinned, digging his hands into Kageyama’s collar to shake him viciously, twice, before he brings their faces close together and glares.
Shouyou’s not really sure this is the sight he wanted to see, after all, Kageyama wide-eyed and bewildered and almost frightened (and to Kageyama’s credit, he doesn’t even know what this is all about, not yet anyway), but that’s probably because Shouyou’s making the most pissed-off face he can muster right now and he feels he has every right to, every right.
“You piece of shit,” he growls, low in his throat, “You stupid, fucking asshole! You’re in love with me? Are you? And you didn’t think you should tell me?”
For a short, blissful moment, Kageyama doesn’t seem to understand at all, half-formed questions popping up all over his face and in his eyes.
Then, his expression turns panicked.
(Panic’s a disease that’s been going around lately.)
Shouyou might be dense sometimes (oftentimes), but he doesn’t need a degree in medicine or whatever to be able to predict what follows. After all, he knows Kageyama better than anyone—better than himself, if that’s at all possible—so he easily anticipates the setter’s next movements, the quickly approaching torrent of insults bubbling up in his throat; Shouyou knows that Kageyama’s first line of defence is always, always getting angry, especially when he’s scared out of his wits and at a loss as to what to do next.
Not this time, though.
Not with Shouyou.
Not after—all this.
“What the—Hinata—GET OFF!”
“No. Never,” he positively hisses back.
“FUCKING GET OFF!”
Kageyama shoves at him but Shouyou doesn’t budge. One bit.
“I said NO!”
He throws all his weight into the brief scuffle that follows, somehow succeeds in staying on top and fighting off Kageyama’s hands and knees that shove and kick at him wherever they can reach. Shouyou growls and Kageyama growls with him, and then he’s screaming Kageyama’s name right into his face, with a few heated Bakayama’s and a host of other insults thrown in for good measure, and promptly decides to end the fight in his favour by simply going in for a headbutt.
Stupid idea, really. It leaves them both more than a little dazed, fucking hell. Shit.
(Wait, where there always two Kageyamas?, Shouyou wonders for a few seconds. Fuck, he can barely deal with one of them as it is...)
Maybe Shouyou’s the more hard-headed one, luckily, as he manages to get out of his stupor first, fists his hands into Kageyama’s shirt again and then snarls at him, “DON’T fucking get defensive with me, you asshole!”
Kageyama has an arm outstretched as if to ward him off, but he finally stills in his frantic motions, looks up with his blue eyes blown wide and fearful. It’s only now that Shouyou realises that he’s trembling, from head to toe, and how.
But whatever.
He can’t muster much pity right now because he needs to get this into Kageyama’s thick, stupid head, once and for all, preferably before they leave high school.
“You do not have the right to get defensive about this!” he snarls once more, and his voice is like venom but underneath there’s hurt, hurt, hurt shining through, clear as day.
(So, maybe, regardless of what the secret was and that it involved himself, he’s really fucking hurt and disappointed that Kageyama kept it from him for so long, and he’s fucking angry not just at but for Kageyama—Kageyama and his stupid ideas of how to deal with pain, because bottling up everything inside is just—)
“Not after keeping this from me for years!” Shouyou yells. “Years, Bakayama! I don’t believe you, how stupid can you get? More than two years—are you fucking kidding me?!”
“What was I supposed to do!” Kageyama yells back, almost equally angry, but the look in his eyes, god—
(Somewhere a hundred or so babies are crying.)
“Then tell me! Fucking tell me, you idiot!” Shouyou shakes him again by the ends of his shirt. “You should’ve just told me!”
Kageyama snorts. “You were going to reject me anyway, dumbass. What’s the use in—”
“That’s not even the point, Bakayama!”
“YES, IT FUCKING IS!”
They glare at each other, breathing hard and fast and shallow. With a start, Shouyou realises there’s poison and toxic waste everywhere around them, they’re practically swimming in it, and this is not what he wanted, it really isn’t. (He doesn’t know what, exactly, he wanted, but it’s not to spew more venom into Kageyama’s face because it has been forced into that expression for too long already and now that Shouyou knows what is means—resignation, what an ugly word, what a stupid word!—it fucking kills him how he could have ignored this for so long, how Kageyama even dared to keep this to himself all this time.)
“Well fine,” Shouyou hisses through his teeth, trying hard to rein himself in but it’s difficult, honestly, so fucking difficult. “But you never actually asked, did you, so it’s not like you ever actually found out, you piss-poor excuse for a—”
“You weren’t going to say yes anyway!” shouts Kageyama at him and there’s a definite rupture in his voice there, a terrible, terrible fracture that really doesn’t belong. It makes Shouyou’s chest tighten up painfully in response. “Maybe not everyone can deal with rejection, you ever stop to think about that?” says Kageyama in that hollow, broken tone, finally looking away, and his arms fall limply to his sides. (There, Shouyou thinks, horrified, resignation. Again. And now, that’s definitely not what Shouyou wanted, not what he wants at all. He never, ever wants to see that look on Kageyama’s face again, ever.)
And no. He didn’t ever stop to think about it.
In fact, Shouyou didn’t ever stop to think about any of this, not really. Confronting Kageyama was more on impulse rather than a well-conceived plan, more a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing he felt himself compelled to do after Yachi accidentally blurted out the secret. Hell, he never even stopped to think what his reply would be if—
Shouyou exhales. Blinks slowly. Exhales again.
With an groan, he lets his head fall forwards and onto Kageyama’s shoulder, goes slack, his hands relaxing around his collar to just... lie there. He’s just lying there, feeling like he’s deflating all at once and suddenly so, so exhausted and completely burned out and just.
He sighs, a half-whimper.
Silence falls around them, only interrupted by their static breathing. After a few minutes, Kageyama gives him a half-hearted shove, maybe to throw him off, but it’s really just that, half-hearted, and it doesn’t do much except make Shouyou grunt angrily in response.
They stay like that for a while longer, Shouyou counting Kageyama’s breaths, in—out—in—out, and unconsciously adjusting his own breathing to match. He feels almost like laughing at himself when he realises what he’s doing. So stupid.
He breathes deeply and, Kageyama smells nice, he thinks, then frowns at himself because it’s such a wayward thought, and yet. Sort of sweaty, he thinks, which isn’t really all that surprising given the circumstances, but still so much like Kageyama, like what he always smells like, and it’s. Nice. It’s nice.
There’s smooth, black hair tickling the side of Shouyou’s face and there’s a faint yellow stain on the other boy’s shirt that Shouyou’s pretty sure is his fault (because he tried to snatch some of Kageyama’s curry during lunch and ended up making half of it fall out of his chopsticks and onto his clothes instead) and—
God, it’s all so familiar.
Everything about Kageyama is so, so fucking familiar and nice and just—
“Please,” Shouyou mumbles, half-snorts, in exasperation more than anything. His throat feels terribly raw from all the screaming, sounds like it too. “You’re like a missing limb to me or something, Kageyama.” Honestly, Shouyou doesn’t know where that comparison even came from in the first place, but he feels like it’s pretty accurate now that he’s spoken it out loud.
“What’s that even supposed to mean?” comes the question after a little while. Kageyama’s face is stubbornly turned away from Shouyou’s and he sounds... really bad. Cracked voice that is too low and too far away, and maybe there’s a sob somewhere in there and shit.
Shouyou’s done a real number on him, hasn’t he?
(Shit shit shit.)
“Hell if I know,” Shouyou replies honestly, but then, “Means that you’re really, really important to me," he muses, “And I... could probably live without you, I guess, but I don’t wanna, okay? Cause it hurts or something?” He remembers seeing this on TV once—‘phantom pains’, he thinks they were called. When someone’s missing a limb and they know it in their head but their stupid body still doesn’t get it, years after the fact. (Well, Shouyou’s pretty dense anyway, isn’t he? So his body or whatever being stupid too wouldn’t be that much of a stretch, would it?)
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kageyama repeats and a note of annoyance steals its way into his voice and for once, Shouyou’s glad to hear it, glad that it’s gradually driving out the broken, hollow thing that was there before. He can’t ever imagine a Kageyama who doesn’t get properly annoyed at him, if he thinks about it. More than that, he can’t ever imagine a Kageyama who isn’t there to get properly annoyed at him.
Holy shit, living without Kageyama would be weird, Shouyou realises. Like, weird weird.
Like, sure, he could imagine that, if he really wanted to, but the thing is that he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to imagine a future that has no Kageyama in it, because that’s ridiculous and weird and honestly, that’s just not Shouyou’s life anymore. (But who knows, maybe it was never meant to be in the first place?) He’s not the same kid from three years ago who stood five steps above his supposed enemy declaring war with every fibre of his being (and whilst crying, no less; but that’s not something Shouyou remembers too fondly). Of course, that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to beat Kageyama one day (because he so, so is, just you wait Bakayama, just you wait), but.
After.
After they’ve been to the top.
Together, that is.
Yeah, that sounds just about right, doesn’t it? In Shouyou’s head at least, and more so with every passing second.
Together...
“Huh?”
Oh, did he actually mumble that out loud? He wasn’t aware.
Whatever, he’s going to say it again, probably (because it not only just sounds right in his head, it actually tastes right on his tongue, and is that even possible with words? But it does, it just does).
“Together.”
“What?”
“Look, I don’t know, but. Together, is what it means. I think.”
(To the top—remember?)
Kageyama remains quiet for a long while, and Shouyou thinks about how he maybe should say more, since one dense idiot plus another one plus not enough words to explain his feelings (and it’s really all a complicated mess right now, to be perfectly honest, he has no idea) equals—
“Do you...”
“Hah?” Shouyou shifts a little, lifts up his head to find Kageyama’s face still turned away, but his ears are curiously red around the tips. Kageyama clears his throat then, breathes a shuddering breath that ripples right through Shouyou as well.
He mutters, “Do you... want to go out with me? Maybe?” His voice is so, so small but the words are incredibly loud in Shouyou’s ears, as if Kageyama actually yelled them, as if they’re echoing all around the gym (or maybe that’s just Shouyou’s heart going GWAHH!!??). He buries his face in Kageyama’s neck again, feeling heat creep into his own cheeks.
So.
Does he, then?
No really, does he?
Shouyou’s just a huge idiot, after all, and he probably really should’ve thought about all this before; before he tackled Kageyama to the ground, before he started shouting at him and nagging him about how Bakayama, just tell me about your big, fat, two-year-old crush on me, come on! but.
He thinks of Kageyama.
Of Kageyama tossing to him (best, best, best, even after all these years), of Kageyama doing a Jump Serve (best, best, best, especially after all these years), of Kageyama ruffling his hair (a little too forcefully still, but sometimes kind of sort of maybe affectionate?), of Kageyama slurping his stupid milk (and that stupid cow on the box, which is actually really cute, and by extension so is Kageyama, maybe?), of Kageyama buying pork buns for the two of them (he knows which ones are Shouyou’s favourite, but lets him try his anyway), of Kageyama pouring over his homework and never getting anything done when it’s just the two of them (but that’s just how they roll), of Kageyama falling asleep during practice (no honestly, that happened, if only once, and Shouyou’s never going to let him forget, ever), of Kageyama ordering the first and second years around (he’s not even captain or vice-captain, mind), of Kageyama giving actual motivational speeches (which are incredible, and it makes Shouyou ridiculously proud and he wants to laugh at himself because he’s been subjected to them since forever, even when they were still standing opposite each other, however inadvertently), of Kageyama...
Of Kageyama, really.
Most importantly, and Shouyou just now gets this too, he thinks of Kageyama.
“Yeah. Okay,” he whispers. "Let's do that." There’s a sharp intake of breath right under him, and Shouyou doesn’t even have to look up, doesn’t even have to sit back to see Kageyama’s face to know just what the idiot’s probably thinking right now (and that, too, is why he believes he’s making the right decision here). “And it’s not pity, you asshole,” he adds, annoyed, “So stop making that face and give me some fucking credit.” He pokes Kageyama’s side for good measure and a hiss ripples through Kageyama’s chest, then a hand out of nowhere grabs Shouyou’s head which he desperately tries to swat away, like an annoying fly (but he’s snickering to himself as he does so, all the same). “Stupid. I know that’s what you were thinking, I know, okay. God, you’re such an idiot. Bakayama!”
“Takes one to know one,” mumbles Kageyama and there. Finally. His voice sounds almost normal again. “Now get off.” Kageyama shoves him again but this time he obviously means it, makes to get up while throwing Shouyou off at the same time. Shouyou grumbles at him, but just a little.
“Is that how you treat your future boyfriend?” he asks with a huff as he complies, rolls off and jumps up to stretch out his aching legs. He offers Kageyama a hand next, grinning, and Kageyama glares (no surprise there) but takes it anyway. They’re dusting off their pants and backs for a little while, until Shouyou remembers and... fuck.
He groans, his heart sinking all the way to the bottom of his stomach.
“Um, hey,” he says hesitantly. Kageyama looks up, alarmed. “We have to apologise to Yachi, you know.”
Apparently, that’s not what Kageyama was anticipating as he looks a little confused (understandable, all things considered). “... Huh?”
“Long story.” Shouyou sighs, scratching his head. “I—we made a complete mess of her and I kind of left her standing all alone, when I went to look for you. Um...” He bites his lip against the admission. “She was crying, I think. Look, I don’t know, but we definitely have to apologise to her, you and me both.” He makes sure to emphasise the last part because, really, it’s not just Shouyou’s fault, the way all this turned out.
“’Kay,” Kageyama mumbles, frowning a little, “If you say so.”
Shouyou purses his lips at that, hardens his eyes a bit as he looks up with a stern expression. “You lied to her, Kageyama,” he reminds him sharply, “About all this.” And gestures between them. “You fucking lied to her and she got really worked up when she found out, you idiot. Like, really.”
It’s kind of satisfying to see actual guilt crossing Kageyama’s face for once. (Well, it is Yachi they’re talking about, after all, and no one makes their manager cry, no one—unspoken rule of the Karasuno volleyball club.) “Sorry,” he says, dipping his head a little. “I didn’t mean to...”
“Yeah, well, you did,” admonishes Shouyou, and he doesn’t even want to sound too mean but it’s the truth and Kageyama just has to deal with that. It’s not like Shouyou’s forgiven him for this whole mess, either, not yet. Kageyama will have to work to make up for it, and a lot. (Meat buns would be a good start, Shouyou thinks. Also, tosses. Lots of those.)
Kageyama shoots him a slight glare that Shouyou feels is completely unwarranted (and totally hypocritical, what the fuck Bakayama, whose fault is this again?), so he tells him, “Stop scowling,” but it only succeeds in deepening the glare. Shouyou groans, annoyed with his... boyfriend? (Wait—is that what they are? Is Kageyama his boyfriend now? Oh, wow, oh... his heart does actual things at the thought.) “Come on, stop it,” he commands with a huff, and when Kageyama doesn’t let up, “Stop it! Sto—oh, for the love of—!”
Shouyou supposes he’s maybe hit his head pretty good when he knocked it against Kageyama’s.
Then again, they’re both so thick anyway (though Tsukishima would probably supply with a smirk that, obviously, their “dumb just doubled with the contact” or something), so maybe he’s not quite in his right mind when his only thought is Gonna wipe that stupid expression off your face, watch me! and the solution comes in the form of grabbing Kageyama by the collar yet again, though this time to tug him down to his level and unceremoniously smash their lips together.
And it’s actually not that bad, he finds.
(And it’s actually kind of good, he’s surprised to find out, which is interesting, really interesting, to say the least, and Shouyou could maybe totally get used to that, actually. It’s far from perfect, and not at all what he always thought his first kiss would be like, all bumping noses and teeth clacking and just—how is he supposed to breathe this way? But it’s also kind of unexpectedly soft and it makes his heart go GWAH! and POW! all at once, in the best way possible, and maybe it skips a few beats in the process as well and besides, it’s definitely much better than having to get used to Kageyama looking at him strangely resigned all the time. So yeah...)
(It’s nice.)
He lets go of Kageyama who stumbles back, sucks in a breath, eyes wide and rapidly blushing from head to toe. (What a sight, thinks Shouyou, gaping a little but also feeling smug as hell and blushing too, he’s pretty sure of it.)
So admittedly, this might’ve not been the most logical solution to the scowling problem (as established, logic isn’t Shouyou’s strong suit anyway), but it seems that it’s working, at least?
For a second, that is.
Before Shouyou knows it, the scowl is back in full force—worse, maybe, oops—and he squeaks and has to duck Kageyama’s grabby hands twice, then quickly move out of range to avoid his boyfriend's—boyfriend's!—bitter revenge.
“Hinata! You little—”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t kill me!” yells Shouyou, scampering away and jumping around while screaming and laughing at the same time, and he’s not sure if the goose bumps on his skin are because he honestly fears for his life or because he just kissed Kageyama his fucking boyfriend holy shit they actually—
“Idiot! You’re taking this too lightly!” Kageyama shouts, making another grab which misses, thankfully (Hah!).
Shouyou snorts at that. “You weren’t taking this lightly enough,” he counters, ducks yet another attempt at his life, squeaking. “I still can’t believe you, Bakayama. Two years. Two years!”
“You—Fuck off!” Kageyama stills suddenly, scowling his most menacing scowl for a moment, and then turns around and makes a show of stomping away, little clouds of dust rising around his shoes and all that. Very professional. Shouyou almost wants to snicker at his back (or maybe he does, it kind of just slips out) and call after him No, fuck you—but that just makes his thoughts suddenly and unexpectedly and indecently wander to places he’s never even considered before and—oh.
Well, he’s going to have to think about that later some more.
(Wait, how does that even work...?)
He shakes his head, runs after Kageyama and latches onto his arm (“like a parasite,” Kageyama grumbles under his breath, or something along those lines, but lets him anyway and Shouyou grins) and then leads them to where he hopes Yachi’s still waiting for him, while chattering away at how Now you have to buy me meat buns for a week at least, two weeks, no three! And something for Yachi as well, maybe chocolates or ice cream or something—
Honestly, Shouyou feels ridiculously giddy inside at the prospect of telling her the news, like when he’s right before a volleyball game against really strong opponents and he’s gotten past his nausea and wants nothing more than to jump high into the air and spike the ball and hear that satisfying smack from the other side of the court. Kageyama’s scowling at him the whole way, expectedly, but once Shouyou studies him a little more closely, he finds that it’s actually a different scowl, a sort of... nice scowl? A scowl which only ever Kageyama could be capable of. It’s amusing, really, how Shouyou can tell most of them apart by now.
No actually, he can tell all of Kageyama’s scowls apart, if he thinks about it—a feat he’s sure few have mastered, and maybe it makes him a little proud of himself—he’s practically got them catalogued inside his head after all these years, including this one (and what do you know, it’s his most favourite):
Scowl #12—the one that hides a (stupid, stupid) smile.
And hey, if that’s not totally worth it, then what is?
-
So yeah, admittedly, Hinata Shouyou may be a bit dense.
Okay, he is dense. A little bit. (Sort of.)
(Totally.)
So dense sometimes, in fact, that he takes forever to properly get certain things, like math and English and people’s obsession with sports other than volleyball (which is just plain ridiculous, if you ask him, because come on, it’s volleyball!).
And, well, Kageyama being an idiot.
A lovesick idiot with ‘A Look’, that is.
But then again... aren’t they both idiots, after all?
Lovesick idiots, the both of them.
Oh well.
Nevermind.
(It’s totally fine now.)