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Heat, passion, wildfires, sunlight. Loudness, anger, volleyball. Tsukishima associates a lot of things with Hinata Shouyo- mostly things that revolve around his nigh-unbearable passion for the sport they play.
Femininity was never one of those things. Tsukishima doesn’t think of softness, the rounded curves Shizumi and Yachi have, when he thinks of Hinata. He doesn’t think of the redhead when he sees the swish of a skirt, sees gaggles of girls around the mall, or when he watches his mother paint her nails or curl her hair.
That is, until he sees him in the music shop on a Saturday. Tsukishima is a ways away from where he usually shops- the music store he went to closed down, so he’s had to resort to catching a bus across town to go to another one. He’s looking for the album one of his favorite bands just released, and that’s how he finds Hinata- Tsukishima has just found the right section of the store when he sees the shorter boy.
Tsukishima’s jaw drops (not that he’ll ever admit it) when he sees what Hinata’s wearing- the shorter boy is clad in a pastel pink dress that looks like it could have been borrowed from Yachi, a small clip in the shape of a sun holding his hair away from his face. He’s humming as he looks through a rack of CD’s and Tsukishima hates that he can’t tear his eyes away.
Hinata turns and catches his eye- recognition is followed by the immediate flushing of his face, and Hinata’s face drops; the boy looks like he might start crying. Oddly enough, it stings a little that Hinata’s reacting to seeing Tsukishima like this. Tsukishima understands that logically, he’s probably just embarrassed for being caught in a dress, and Tsukishima would usually pounce on something like this, but- Hinata looks genuinely upset, and Tsukishima hates himself a little.
“Pink looks terrible with your hair,” he says, and he mentally kicks himself. Uh, fuck, Kei, do something, he thinks, and Tsukishima wants to die at the next words out of his mouth. “You’d suit blue much better, or yellow- like, uh, your hair clip.”
Hinata’s staring at him with a look of disbelief on his face, and Tsukishima is starting to feel really, really awkward. Hinata hasn’t been this quiet in Tsukishima’s presence ever , and it’s sort of starting to freaking Tsukishima out.
“Why aren’t you making fun of me?” Hinata asks, and fuck if that doesn’t hurt, just a little. Tsukishima is not appreciating all of the things Hinata is making him feel, and he really really wishes that he could go back to feeling apathetic about the redhead.
“Why would I? It’s not like I care what you wear,” Tsukishima mumbles, “I wouldn’t tease Yachi for wearing a skirt, so why would I tease you, shrimp?” he says, and Hinata’s face absolutely lights up.
You can’t help it that you’re nonbinary , Tsukishima thinks. It’s not your fault you relate .
He agrees to walk around the store with Hinata, who chatters on about inane things- music (he likes the same band as Tsukishima), volleyball, his sister, how nice Yachi was for letting him borrow the dress and keeping his secret.
When they finally go their separate ways, Hinata turns to him and fiddles with the hem of his skirt, looking down.
Tsukishima sighs. “I know you don’t like having to look up to people, shorty, but you obviously want to say something, so spit it out,” he drawls, and Hinata looks up at him and sticks his tongue out.
“You’re the only one I don’t like looking up too, Jerk-shima,” he retorts, but then he’s right back to looking bashful- Tsukishima’s heart is doing flips in his chest. “Thank you, for being so nice, Tsukishima. Will you- can I trust you not to say anything?” he asks, and Tsukishima just rolls his eyes.
“You won’t have to worry about me spilling your secret, shrimp,” he says, and Hinata beams and waves goodbye, bounding away towards the nearest bus stop.
Tsukishima watches him go, his traitorous heart still pounding in his chest, because for the first time, he’s considering telling someone about himself.
/
After that, Tsukishima pays a lot more attention to Hinata. How he and Yachi are so close and casual with each other, the way he stands on the balls of his feet, just slightly tilting forwards, like a bird. How the other person (because he still needed to ask if boy was right) was so intense, and not just about volleyball, but about everything . Tsukishima started associating other things with him, too- not just a boiling summer heat, but a warm spring day, and not just the hard edges of muscle, but the softness and curve of hips and the twirling fabric of dresses.
Tsukishima doesn’t know what compels him to do it- he hasn’t even told Yamaguchi yet, so he doesn’t know why he basically outs himself to Hinata , of all people- but he catches Hinata’s attention after practice and pulls him to the side.
“Do you want to come dress shopping with me this weekend?” he asks, and a variety of emotions pass over Hinata’s face- surprise, confusion, realization, and finally, joy.
“Yes, that sounds great! Here, I’ll text you tonight and we can decide where to meet, okay?” Hinata replies, and Tsukishima just nods his assent before turning and walking, waving over his shoulder.
“See you then, shrimp!”
“See you then, Jerk-shima!” Hinata calls after him, but his tone is different than it is usually; there’s no malice, no rage, no irritation.
He sounds friendly , Tsukishima realizes, and the idea sends a jolt down his spine. Hinata thinks we’re friends , he thinks, biting his lip. Hinata and I are friends.
That weekend, they go to the same mall strip the music shop is on, and Hinata drags him into a little boutique. Tsukishima looks through racks of dresses with him, and tries to smother the envy that bubbles up. Hinata can wear dresses, with his slim figure and short stature, but Tsukishima is 6’3” with broad shoulders and no hips, and he’s not ever going to be able to wear a dress and look normal, look natural in it.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea .
“Here, Tsukishima! Try this one!” Hinata says, and when Kei turns, he’s holding out a dark blue dress. It’s got three-quarter length sleeves and the skirt looks like it would come down to almost Tsukishima’s knees- but the details on the skirt are what really grab his attention. The skirt is embroidered with silver thread so it looks like a starry sky, and the waist of the dress is cinched in with a dark blue strip of fabric and a belt buckle in the shape of the moon.
Tsukishima doesn’t get a chance to protest before he’s been pushed into a changing room, pretty blue dress in hand.
It can’t hurt to try , he thinks, and he puts the dress on with care. It fits, and he looks into the mirror, and-
The doubt rushes up his throat, because why would he do this, he looks ridiculous, he looks dumb stupid dumb dresses aren't for boys you have to be a b o y-
“Tsukishima, are you alright?” Hinata asks quietly from the other side of the door, and Tsukishima realizes that he’s fallen back against the changing stall door.
“This was a mistake,” he manages to get out, and he can practically feel the frown that is no doubt on Hinata’s face.
“Can you let me in, Tsukishima?” Hinata asks quietly, “it’s okay if you can’t, but I think you’re panicking, and I think I can help,” he continues, and he’s being gentle like Tsukishima is something fragile and delicate.
Tsukishima lets him in.
Hinata is pressed flush against the door, only a few inches between him and Tsukishima, and Tsukishima is looking everywhere but Hinata. They stand there like that, Hinata dressed in his jeans and a t-shirt and Tsukishima in the blue dress, silent, Hinata’s eyes never leaving Tsukishima’s face.
“I think you look very pretty, Kei,” Hinata says quietly, and Tsukishima’s eyes snap to Hinata’s, warm brown meeting bright amber.
“I’m not a boy,” Tsukishima whispers.
“Neither am I,” Hinata says, and the moment is startlingly intimate. Tsukishima feels more exposed here, wearing the dark blue dress, than he ever has in a changing room at school.
He finds himself leaning forwards, and watches as Hinata comes to meet him in the middle, eyes fluttering shut, and-
And the moment is ruined by a sharp knock on the door, the store attendant asking if everything fits okay. Hinata jumps around a foot in the air, and Tsukishima stumbles backwards, trying to compose himself as he tells the attendant everything is fine.
Hinata waits for him outside, and Tsukishima puts the blue dress back.
He pretends not to care when Hinata asks him to use they/them pronouns, and he pretends not to notice when Hinata buys the blue dress in Tsukishima’s size, along with a sleeveless dress in bright, summery yellow with blue trim. Tsukishima pretends that the almost-not-quite kiss never happened at all, and he ignores the way his heart flips every time Hinata looks at him.
He ignores his feelings until he and Hinata are out in town together again- it’s become more common, Tsukishima and Hinata spending time together. They were studying at the food court, and Hinata was wearing the yellow dress and the sun clip again, and Kei was having trouble focusing.
“Hey, Tsukki! Hey, Hinata!” The voice shocks Tsukishima out of his daze, and he registers Yamaguchi, Kageyama, and Yachi approaching them, about the same time he registers the panic on Hinata’s face.
“If anyone says anything, I’ll handle it,” Tsukishima says, and Hinata nods once, before plastering on a smile so blatantly fake that Tsukishima is surprised none of the other first years notice.
They rise to meet the other first years, and Yachi bounds over to squeeze Hinata in a hug. Yamaguchi doesn’t even double-take at the dress, but Kageyama stops still, eyes wide with confusion. Tsukishima is already internally putting up barriers, because Kageyama has little-to-no sense of tact, and Tsukishima can tell where this is going already.
“Why are you wearing a dress?” Kageyama asks, and Tsukishima can tell it’s an innocent question born out of curiosity, but Hinata’s face falls so fast it makes Tsukishima a little sick to his stomach. He moves closer to Hinata out of something he hates to call instinct, a hand coming up to rest on the redhead’s back, and he’s about to say something when Yachi pipes up.
“Why are you wearing pants and a shirt?” Yachi shoots back, bright smile still on her face. “Why am I wearing a dress? Why does it matter, Kageyama?” She asks, and suddenly, Tsukishima understands the way Yamaguchi looks at her a little better. Hinata has that stupid starry-eyed look on his face, and Yamaguchi is looking dopily at Yachi, and Kageyama looks properly chastised.
Tsukishima realizes with a start that his hand is still on Hinata’s back, and he jerks away, pulling his hand back into his personal space. He pretends that he doesn’t notice when Hinata stretches his hand out and grabs Tsukishima’s hand, lacing their fingers together.
He finds comfort in the way that Hinata’s hands are so small, but so strong- they’re not dainty and slim, like the rest of him, but strong and calloused from years of smacking spikes on the court and gripping the handlebars of his bike. Hinata’s hands are like Tsukishima’s- hard-edged with regulation-clipped nails, and Tsukishima likes the feeling of Hinata’s calloused fingers gripping his.
He likes Hinata, and it’s driving him crazy.
/
Hinata tells Tsukishima about his decision a month later- Tsukishima is lying on Hinata’s bedroom floor and painting his nails for him, because “Your hands are so much steadier, Kei!”.
“I’m gonna tell the rest of the team,” Hinata says quietly, and Tsukishima’s hands still. “I don’t want it to be a secret, and the team is like a second family, y’know? Because we all call Daichi Dad as a joke, but is it really a joke? Either way, I want them to know,” he explains in a quiet rush, and Tsukishima pushes himself up onto his elbow to look at Hinata better.
Tsukishima looks at Hinata for a very long time like that, propped up on his elbows, Hinata’s toenails half-painted sunshine yellow.
“Okay,” Tsukishima says, sitting up further, “how are we doing this?”
The way Hinata’s face lights up makes Tsukishima forget every worry and regret he might have had about coming out.
“You’re sure?” Hinata asks, amber eyes wide as he leans down and forwards, almost forehead to forehead with Tsukishima.
“Absolutely not,” Tsukishima says, “but you should stop asking stupid questions.”
“I can’t help it,” Hinata replies, eyes sparkling. “Being around you makes my head go to mush,” he says, and before Tsukishima can question him, he leans down and presses his mouth to Tsukishima’s.
It’s short, and Tsukishima’s lips are chapped, and neither of them know how to kiss, but it leaves Tsukishima’s lips burning and Hinata’s face flushed regardless.
“Is that- was that okay?” Hinata says, voice small, and Tsukishima rolls his eyes.
“What did I just say about stupid questions, Shrimp?” Tsukishima says, but he’s smiling when he leans up to kiss Hinata again.
They find themselves clutching hands inside the changing room later that week, knowing their team is out there, waiting- Hinata in the yellow dress, and Kei in the blue.
“We can do this,” Tsukishima says, and he’s not really sure who he’s reassuring.
“We can do this,” Hinata breathes.
Together, they open the door.