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"Does it still hurt?"
Kageyama was drawn out of his careful ministrations over the bruise by Hinata's peevish voice. It was his fault, really. Kageyama had been too busy losing his mind over Hinata's stupid receives to have noticed the rebounding volleyball heading directly towards him. The hit on his left thigh had immediately floored him and it had taken a couple of minutes before his muscles could recover from the shock. Asahi-san had been beside himself and couldn't stop himself from apologising to Kageyama every time they made eye-contact. To be honest, it had become a bit annoying by the end of the day.
It wasn't even like it was a debilitating injury. Sure, it did hurt like a bitch when pressed and it would most likely take nearly a month for the bruise to fade away, but it wasn't along the front thigh muscles that it would cause an issue with Kageyama's jumps. The most pressing problem with it was the location: bang in the middle of his back inner thigh, a place he couldn't easily cover up during practices. Judging by Asahi-san's reaction-rate that day whenever Kageyama had tossed to him, it would probably take another few days for practice to go back to its usual pace.
Hinata came over, trudging clumsily. He, too, had been off-kilter since the hit. It was honestly ridiculous. Why did everyone but Kageyama care about a mere bruise so much? And that too, enough to affect their practices? It was why Kageyama was grateful for Coach Ukai, who would no doubt put them on the right track as soon as possible.
"Not really," replied Kageyama. He went back to poking around the bruise. It was in an awkward place, causing Kageyama to pull up his shorts in order to see the flex of the tendons around it while he attempted to stretch it gently and assess the damage. Fuck. Never mind, it really did hurt. His leg shook slightly when he tried to lay it flat upon the ground. It wasn’t going to be a problem with his game--he had made sure of that. But the prospect of the phantom pain could hold him back during their practice sets with other schools. He had to make sure to familiarise himself with the burn in case worse came to worst.
Hinata was behind his shoulder, crouching and observing. It was a bit disorienting to see him so quiet, but Kageyama guessed he was a bit guilty. Anyway, Kageyama wasn’t going to let a rare moment of peace and silence go out of his hands so he chose not to comment on it. He went back to concentrating on pulling on the flesh around the bruise.
The pain that rose now was sharper than when he was stretching the entire leg. Perhaps it was because he’d gotten too swept away in the twinge that went all the way down to his ankle, but Kageyama ended up pressing a little too close to the injury itself. He jerked, hands flying and his back thudding with something warm and sturdy.
Hinata’s palms clutched around Kageyama’s shoulder like it was him and not Kageyama who was about to puke. The world spun a little and Kageyama had to focus really hard on the tickle of Hinata’s hair on his neck to not pass out because that had been awful. He came up from his momentary blackout shaking. Hyperaware that he was sweating and breathing hard, Kageyama tried to push himself off of Hinata’s tiny frame, where he was undoubtedly crushing the redhead.
His vision swam again and Kageyama started panicking. He could not act this way every time the bruised area was slightly stimulated. This total physical collapse would prove devastating on the court.
Firm hands pulled him back and Kageyama found himself resting against a firm chest. If he had been in a better state, he would thrown himself across the room before setting his lower back on Hinata’s thighs, but right now, it was a reprieve from overthinking to rest his body and focus on breathing.
A glint sparkled in his face before Kageyama decided the world was too orange for his liking. He took deep breaths, distracted by the stubby fingers that were digging into his shoulders, working at the knots. He could hear Hinata’s heartbeat nearby, thudding too fast for their current position. Maybe that was just the natural state of the little shit's body, which was ready to bounce up any second of the day.
The bubbling under Kageyama’s flesh finally relented, and he could think about what he’d eaten that day without gagging. His chest hurt a little, and his skin was definitely a bit feverish to the touch with the way Hinata’s palm seemed to sizzle against his forehead. Hinata was way closer than he had expected, however, because the voice in his ears was enough to send his head spinning again.
“Kageyama-kun, are you okay?”
Kageyama hoped to God the scratchy flick of something near his earlobe had been Hinata’s jersey; the idea of anything was almost more dizzying than poking his bruise directly.
He did not trust himself to speak, so Kageyama nodded. The calloused pads of what were undeniably Hinata’s hands brushed his chin, tilting them up. Kageyama could not open his eyes. He should not.
Something caressed his eyelids.
Kageyama flinched, hitting Hinata’s hand away. He opened his eyes to see Hinata goggling at him, mouth open, the lower lip scrunched in an innocuous pout. Kageyama found it impossible to look directly at Hinata, so he started moving his torso up in the pretence of getting up.
“I went too near.”
“But,” Hinata asked stupidly as Kageyama pulled himself into a respectable sitting position again. The halo of heat that emanated from Hinata’s body surrounded him, and he found himself gravitating towards it. At least they weren’t touching anymore. “But why would you do that anyway?”
“To make it easier for the future.”
Confusion marred Hinata’s face but comprehension cleared it up quickly. “Ah-hah!” he said, and Kageyama pictured a light bulb going off. It was rather—nothing. It was nothing at all. Right.
“Pressing your injury really tightly makes it hurt less!”
“Huh?” What kind of logic was that?
“Everyone says it,” said Hinata, shifting to bend over Kageyama’s legs. The sudden pressure of Hinata’s calf on Kageyama’s shin startled him into yelling.
“No one says that, stupid-Hinata!”
Hinata rallied up into a fight immediately. “Just because you don’t know about it doesn’t make it false, Boke-yama!”
“What kind of bullshit—”
Kageyama was cut off by Hinata softly setting the hollow of his palm on Kageyama’s bruise. Kageyama could feel his own heartbeat syncing slowly with the pulse in Hinata’s fingers. Surely he was imagining it. He must also be imagining the twitching of his thigh like it was taking deep mouthfuls of Hinata’s improbable closeness. Kageyama thought faintly that Hinata’s palm would leave a burn mark behind.
“Is this okay?”
Hinata’s eyes were the only thing holding up Kageyama in this pathetic state.
“...Kageyama-kun?” Hinata prodded.
“Yeahhh…”
What the fuck was that? Why did he just make that noise? Why did his voice change halfway in his assent? God, Hinata must think him a pervert now.
The pressure grew on his thigh. “Yeah?” whispered Hinata, eyes blown up. His lips were puckered just a little and it was driving Kageyama crazy. This time, Hinata let him have the coward’s way out and accepted his weak nod.
Hinata gazed at the bruise like he was assessing his next step. Slowly, his hand lifted, and Kageyama burst into gulps of air like he had been drowning. Instead, this time a singular finger came down to rub steady circles along the perimeter of the bruise. It would be a good tattoo idea, Kageyama thought foolishly. The finger became two, and eventually, Hinata was leaving whispers of scarring touches all over Kageyama’s thigh.
Kageyama could see the demonic concentration in Hinata now as he pressed and massaged the injury slowly, getting firmer with every huff of Kageyama that indicated that the building burn beneath his skin was still tolerable. Kageyama tried his best to bar the sounds of his loud breathing from ever entering his memory, but the simultaneous hints of Hinata murmuring his name were too sweet to never taste again in his head.
It did hurt. Despite Hinata’s gentleness, at times it did become too much to bear, and Hinata pulled his hand away until Kageyama breathed at a normal pace before getting right back to work. It was a torture, blurring all distinctions of pleasure and pain in Kageyama’s system until the feeling felt similar to what he felt on the court. After a while, even the more sudden poke of Hinata’s knuckles felt good, sending rivulets of hot honey up Kageyama’s spine. It was a heady feeling, and before he knew it, his eyes were closed, and Kageyama lay flat on the floor, spine arching now and then when it became too much.
When Hinata finally took his hand away, Kageyama almost broke into protestations. It felt like he had been dunked into cold water---all the buzzing, itchy, shivering energy dissipating at a disappointingly fast rate.
Kageyama sat up. He would have noticed the sour edge of his own perspiration if he hadn’t been distracted by the tell-tale paths of sweat that had slid down Hinata’s face and neck. They sat looking at each other for a moment.
“It felt good?”
“Mmm…”
“Are you finally ready now?”
Kageyama could feel his body expanding and shrinking as one heart.
“For what…?”
Hinata’s grin was quick and blinding.
“Race you to my bike!”