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Damn it.
Kageyama sighed and reached into the pocket of his school uniform pants, digging for his phone and muttering under his breath. A few quick taps later, he smashed the call button. Hinata answered after barely one full ring.
“Moshi moshi?” Hinata was panting slightly over the line. He’d probably just finished biking home.
“Oi. I left my English notebook in your bag.”
Kageyama’s own messenger bag had split earlier in the week, so he’d been using Hinata as a glorified pack mule during practices to keep his school materials safe. He hated when his notebooks got creased and dog-eared, especially after he spent so long color-coding his vocabulary words like Yachi had shown him. Now in his third and final year at Karasuno, he was finally starting to get the hang of studying. Well… sort of. Enough that he didn’t have to do any more make-up classes.
“Gwah! I knew you’d forget it, Bakageyama!”
Kageyama’s eyes flashed threateningly, even though Hinata couldn’t see him. “Boke! You forgot too or you would’ve handed it to me before I left.”
“Bleeeeeh, whatever.” He didn’t have to see Hinata to know that he was sticking his tongue out at him sassily. “I’ll give it to you at tomorrow morning’s practice, ok? We can study together at lunch too, to make up for it!”
Kageyama gulped. His heart did an annoying little lurch in his chest at the promise of lunch with Hinata. Then, trying to recover, he snapped out, “like that’s gonna help. Get Tsukishima or Yachi to come and maybe it’ll actually be productive.”
“Mean!” He quickly pulled his phone away from his poor ear as Hinata’s shrill yell came through the line. “But fair… I'll text Yacchan. See you tomorrow, Kageyama-kun!”
“Bye.”
*Click*
Kageyama sighed again and flopped down onto his bed, bouncing a bit with the force of his landing. The bed creaked in protest, while plain white sheets wrinkled under him. “Mfffffppphhhh,” he groaned at no one in particular. Hinata always made him groan and gripe. He made his heart race and his palms sweat and his face feel hot and tingly. It was annoying.
Back in first year, he’d convinced himself that he was allergic to Hinata’s shampoo or deodorant or laundry detergent. What else would make him feel borderline feverish whenever he was in Hinata’s presence? The nausea, the sweating, the shaking hands…was feeling irrationally angry and jumpy a symptom of allergies? Coach Ukai had just given him a constipated look when he’d asked.
Unfortunately, he’d eventually come to his senses. He knew he had a fucking crush. He’d vented to Miwa about it one night not too long after his mystery symptoms started manifesting. She’d laughed her ass off before gently asking, “Ne, Tobio-kun, are you sure you don’t just like this boy?”
And his world fucking imploded.
Of course.
Of course he was stupidly in love with that absolute dumbass. It all made perfect sense, like the pins of a lock all clicking into place to open into a room full of golden sunlight. Every time he’d agonized over saying the wrong thing, every time he couldn’t fall asleep on the bus home from a game because Hinata was softly snoring on his shoulder, every time the skin on his arm buzzed when Hinata’s hands brushed it accidentally.
He’d sat there, still as Miwa’s pet rock Tetsutetsu (she said she was too busy for anything else), universe fracturing and realigning again with his revelation. He’d stared blankly at his plain white bedroom walls for what felt like hours, until his mother called him to dinner.
Now, he rolled over onto his stomach to reach across the floor for his volleyball, the cool leather feeling so natural under his fingertips.
This is getting ridiculous.
He wanted to talk about it with someone. He felt like the words were threatening to pop out of his mouth at any time, volatile and unpredictable. But no one knew except Miwa; he didn’t really feel like divulging the secret to someone new. Should he call her? He’d just called her last night to talk about his most recent game, would it be weird if he called her again? They’d been talking a lot more over the last year or so, reconnecting now that they no longer lived in the same house. But she was pretty busy with all her hairstyling jobs…
Maybe she’d have some advice for how to deal with annoying feelings and unrequited love and what to do when your hot-spiker-slash-best-friend-slash-rival smells really weirdly good after a long practice. She had more romantic experience than him, after all, a string of boys and girls coming to their home to “study” all throughout her time in high school.
He made up his mind to call her before he could lose his nerve, setting the volleyball down on his bedspread and grabbing his phone to hit redial.
It rang a few times, then as soon as the line connected-
“Nee-san, I need your help. Remember how we were talking about my friend Hinata? You were right, I do like him. As more than a friend. I actually think I’m in love with him. But how am I supposed to act normal around him? I mean, he drives me fucking insane most days, but it’s like, I need that in a way. When he’s not at practice, or school, or even when I’m home alone, it feels empty and weird and lonely without Hinata. And I don’t just look forward to seeing him as friends, it’s different. When I’m around him, I feel like… Like there’s some kind of zip! or bwah! that goes through my body and makes me feel like running a thousand laps or serving a thousand jump serves. He’s my favorite person to toss to, and not just because he’s gotten so much better. You really should see him now, Miwa-nee. But he’s my favorite person to toss to because it’s him. When he hits my tosses I feel invincible. He makes me invincible. Like we can’t ever lose when we’re together. Whether that’s a game, or anything, really. I can face anything with him.”
The words were spilling out one after the other, quicker than he could really comprehend.
“K-”
“Wait, I’m almost done, then I’ll let you finish, I swear. I also get these annoying feelings in my stomach like bzzt! when he’s near and I can’t stop looking at his face, he’s so handsome nee-san, and I just keep staring at him all the time and I want to kiss him. Is it weird to think about kissing someone so much? Sometimes at practice I can barely focus because all I wanna do is grab his stupd t-shirt and kiss him-”
“KAGEYAMA!!!!!”
A very loud, very familiar, very not-Miwa voice shouted through the speaker of Kageyama’s phone.
Oh.
Oh, shit.
Horrified, Kageyama looked down at his phone screen to see he was indeed connected to ‘Hinata Boke Cell’ and not ‘Kageyama Miwa Cell’.
The time connected ticked on, reminding him that he’d so far spent three minutes and forty-seven seconds professing his love, not to his sister, but to the recipient of said love.
Fucking shit.
He tuned back into reality, hearing a now softer-voiced Hinata asking, “Kageyama? Are you there?”
“I-” Kageyama gulped. What could he say? Sorry? Laugh and say it was an elaborate prank? He had no idea. So instead, he simply hung up.
Hinata called him back immediately. Kageyama watched the phone buzz, slowly vibrating itself around on his comforter, but he didn’t dare pick up. He couldn’t.
This was bad.
He’d completely forgotten that the last person he called was in fact Hinata and not Miwa, meaning he hit redial and connected to the completely wrong person. The worst possible person, actually.
Panicked, he stood off the bed and looked wildly around his room. For what? He didn’t know. Anything - a sign from God, perhaps? His parents to barge in and announce they were moving to Italy? A meteor to fall on his house? A black hole to fall into? Anything would work at this point.
The phone rang from Hinata again, buzzing insistently. Kageyama picked it up and threw it into the bottom drawer of his desk. He couldn’t even look at it right now. He gripped his hair in panic and frustration as the phone continued to ring. Maybe a cold shower would help him calm down.
Before he could freak out again, he stripped himself of his clothes and walked naked to the bathroom, grabbing a fresh towel from the laundry on the way.
As he stood under the cool spray, rivulets dripping from his hair down his cheeks, sliding down his arms and legs before swirling around the drain, he tried to calm his mind. “Ok,” he said aloud, “so I called Hinata. Hinata knows that I like him. Oh my god Hinata knows that I like him…” he moaned into his hands. How was he supposed to go to school tomorrow? How was he supposed to go to practice tomorrow? What if Hinata acted all cold and distant and awkward? He didn’t know if his heart could take it. Or worse, what if Hinata thought it was hilarious and pathetic, and told everyone? He imagined walking into the gym, Tsukishima and Hinata and Yamaguchi snickering behind their hands as they whispered and glanced his way.
No. No way, Hinata wouldn’t do that. If anything, he’d want to talk about it. Incessantly. His heart couldn’t fucking take that, either. It was hard enough figuring out his emotions in his head, let alone out loud. And while also staring into those piercing brown eyes?
Forget it. Kageyama would just ignore him. That way Hinata couldn’t hurt him.
It would be difficult, but he’d done it before; back in first year, when they’d gotten into that awful fight about the freak quick. It would suck, yeah, but he could do it. It was better than any alternative he could imagine, anyways.
He had no idea how long he stood in the shower before he finally twisted the dial down, shutting off the water and stepping out into his fuzzy clean towel. He padded back into his room, towel wrapped around his waist, and closed the door behind him. He was glad that the phone seemed to have stopped ringing, at least. He thought he heard something tapping against the window pane though; probably just a wisteria branch.
He grabbed a second towel off his bed and began drying off his hair, when several things happened in quick succession: two rapid clunks sounded right outside his window before with a whoosh it slid open violently; a young man’s garbled yell and “ouch!!” came from the direction of the window; a body with flaming orange hair fell from the sill and onto the floor of Kageyama’s room, extremely ungracefully, nearly missing landing on top of his dumbbells.
Kageyama’s chest seized with surprise and shock. What the fuck?!
“Kageyama!” Hinata bellowed from the floor, turning sideways from where he lay sprawled, unbelievably, on the floor, and pointed an accusing finger. “Oh my god you’re naked!” Hinata’s face was quickly turning the shade of Tendou-san’s hair.
“BOKE! What the fuck!!?”
“kAGEYAMA WHY ARE YOU NAKED!??”
“I’M NOT FUCKING NAKED I HAVE A TOWEL ON!!”
“GWAHH!!!”
“What are you - how - why are you in my room?!”
“Kageyama please put some clothes on my heart can’t take this!!”
Face flaming, Kageyama quickly hid behind his closet door and shucked on a pair of gray sweatpants and a plain white undershirt.
Slowly, he emerged again. Hinata had recovered somewhat; he now sat cross-legged on the floor. Kageyama could see he was panting, face still bright red and a little sweaty, too. He was still wearing his school uniform.
Kageyama felt the annoyance and embarrassment in him about to simmer over. “What are you - why - how…” he sighed. “How did you get here? Why?!”
“You weren’t answering my calls”, Hinata said matter-of-factly, like breaking and entering was a perfectly acceptable crime in comparison to not answering your phone.
“I, well, that was-” Kageyama spluttered. “How did you even get in here?”
“I climbed up the trellis. That wisteria grows right under your window! I rang the doorbell but no one answered, and I’d already biked all the way here so I figured, I’m not gonna leave without talking to you so I thought it was worth a shot!”
Kageyama facepalmed exasperatedly. “You’re a fucking moron.”
Hinata’s mouth fell open indignantly. “Hey, you’re the fucking moron! You stopped answering your phone, you jerk! You dropped the most insane, weird, awkward, so Kageyama-ish, beautiful confession and then just ghost me?! What the fuck, Kageyama?”
Wait.
Some of those words sounded objectively bad. But then…
Beautiful?
“W-what do you mean beautiful?”
Hinata’s face, which had been slowly returning to a normal shade, colored right back to strawberry again. He looked sideways at the carpet and grumbled under his breath, “of course that’s the word he picks up on, stupid, perceptive-yama.”
Hinata raised his eyes after a beat, meeting Kageyama’s. “Yeah. You idiot, of course it was a perfect confession. Even though it was a complete fuck-up on your end. Why did you think I was Miwa-neesan?!”
Kageyama’s head was spinning. Hinata thought it was a perfect confession. Did that mean - “Did you, I mean, does that mean you’re happy? With the confession, I mean?” He could hardly believe it.
“Hey, answer my question first!” Hinata said, standing up and gently jabbing Kageyama in the chest with his finger.
“I hit redial on my phone. I thought the last person I’d called was Miwa-nee, but I forgot I called you just before about my English homework.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
They stared at the floor for a moment, both shuffling awkwardly, before Kageyama remembered his question. “Now answer my question, boke.”
Hinata jumped slightly. “Oh. Right. Um, what was your question again?”
Kageyama could feel his face flaming. “My confession. If you count that as a confession, I guess. Did you, um, like it?” He looked into those bright, wide brown eyes. He looked for hesitance, disgust… but he found only light. He thought this would be way harder; that he’d rather die than bluntly talk to Hinata about his feelings, but he felt strangely calm. Weightless, almost.
Hinata’s eyes lit up mischievously. “You’re right Kageyama, maybe I shouldn’t let that count, hah? Maybe you should say it to my face, like-”
Kageyama gripped the lapel of Hinata’s uniform jacket determinedly and pulled him into a searing kiss, cutting the other off. Kageyama’s mind went totally blank but for the soft, “oh”, muffled against his lips, the feeling of Hinata’s soft, perfect mouth against his, pressing back with just the right amount of feeling. Half love, half challenge.
He slowly pulled back and gazed at Hinata, whose eyes were still closed. They fluttered open slowly. “Wow,” he whispered, before breaking into a huge grin.
“How’s that?” Kageyama asked quietly, feeling much braver. Enough to tuck a stray orange lock back into place behind Hinata’s ear.
“I - I think that counts,” Hinata gulped. “So yeah, Bakageyama, I like you too. A lot. Always have.”
Kageyama blinked. “Always?”
“Yep!” Hinata laughed. “Ever since I met you outside that bathroom in middle school. I couldn’t put a finger on it at first, but after a while I figured it out.”
Kageyama grinned dangerously. “And you still liked me even after we wiped the floor with you?”
Hinata punched him in the gut.
“Oof!”
“Bastard-yama. And yes I did, thanks very much,” Hinata retorted, pouting and crossing his arms over his chest.
Kageyama reached out and uncrossed Hinata’s arms before pulling him into another soft kiss. “You like me anyways,” he whispered against the other’s lips.
“I do,” Hinata whispered back. “And you like me too.”
“I do.”
They stood like that for a long while, sharing soft kisses and whispering confessions peppered with the occasional jab, when Kageyama remembered something.
“Hey, did you bring my English notebook?”
Hinata looked guilty. “Um, no.”
“Boke! Why not!?”
Hinata gaped. “I had bigger things on my mind, Kageyama-kun!!! You’d just confessed to me like a moron, I was kinda focusing on that!”
Kageyama laughed, and Hinata’s eyes widened at the sound, before breaking into a smile of his own. “Well, I can think of a way you can make it up to me,” Kageyama said, before pulling Hinata back into his arms.
The next morning, Yachi found the two of them copying English notes, knees touching as Kageyama explained that the pink highlighted words were adjectives while the blue were adverbs.
“Boo, why did you use baby colors? You should’ve used orange and black, those are much cooler colors! Where’s your team spirit?”
“Boke, how the fuck am I supposed to read something that’s highlighted black?”
Hinata shot Kageyama a finger gun while adding, “good point.”
Yachi smiled. “You two look awfully cozy.”
“Yacchan!” Hinata exclaimed, then leapt up. “Kageyama confessed to me on accident and now we’re dating!”
Kageyama said nothing but turned bright red, burying himself in his notes.
“Good! Now I can start planning your wedding in earnest.”
“Eh?!?!?”