Work Text:
“That was clearly Daichi’s receive! What are you doing?!” Kageyama grits, hands clenched, and knees bent to match Hinata’s gaze.
Never the one to back down, Hinata leans forward, their foreheads now a hair width away from touching.
“My body moved on its’ own! I didn’t mean to bump into him!”
“Well, you should have seen him! Instead of going for the ball with your shitty receives!”
“I wasn’t trying to-”
White noise replaces the words coming out of Hinata’s mouth.
Because the only thing Kageyama can currently focus on is how close Hinata is.
The light hits Hinata’s eyes at just the right angle, revealing a kaleidoscope of warm browns and yellows.
There’s the spray of freckles collected from early morning bike rides in the sun.
Warmth radiates from Hinata like an open campfire and the smell of him envelopes Kageyama.
And, as Hinata huffs out his last sentence, Hinata’s breath brushes past Kageyama’s lips.
It feels like all the air in Kageyama’s lungs have been stolen.
Before either of them can give a last retort, Daichi pulls them apart by scruff of their shirts.
Kageyama blinks, the heat of the moment gone.
What does it mean, if your greatest rival feels like home?