Archive of Our Own

It was an ordinary day in the way it wasn’t ordinary at all. 

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Shouyou was scrolling. That much was normal. The blistering summers of Rio had long lost the element of surprise. The gusts of wind that seemed to come straight from hell didn’t blow quite as heavily as they’d done in the first few weeks after Shouyou’s arrival. Or perhaps they did and he was simply used to them by now. 

Shouyou’s game had ended, Heitor was buying them ice cream, and Nice was talking up a storm with some tourists. Not much of a surprise there either. 

Shouyou could already taste the drips of cool ice cream melt against his tongue. This, too, was routine. Every single day – after a fulfilling session on the beach – his friends and he would drop down onto the scorching concrete steps and enjoy a refreshing treat. They’d talk about their day, make plans for the next, and then Shouyou would walk home by himself. 

That had been scary at first. The walking home alone part. Shouyou had never been known for his great sense of direction, especially not in a city as bustling with activity as Rio. Back in Japan he’d rarely walk somewhere alone. He would bike across the mountains until he reached the lantern with the little blue dot at the crossroads. And from there on he would never be by himself. He’d be with–

“Ah, Kageyama,” Heitor bouldered next to him. 

Shouyou nearly dropped his phone as he jumped up from his seat. He hadn’t heard his friend come up behind him. 

Heitor laughed, “Shouyou, Shouyou, Shouyou,” he tutted as he clambered over the steps to slide down next to him, looking pointedly at the screen, “bad conscience?”

Shouyou huffed an indignant breath, “pff, as if,” he said. 

Heitor snorted and shrugged, “you’re so easy to rile up,” he said before scooching closer – perhaps a bit too close, seeing as he was a nearly 6’6 man trying to squeeze into five cubic centimeters of space – and Shouyou instinctively turned his screen away. 

Of course, that was exactly what had piqued his friend’s interest in the first place. Heitor raised his brow in amusement and held out his hand knowingly. Shouyou resisted the urge to swat at it. Instead, he sighed and handed over his phone in defeat. 

Heitor laughed even harder when he got a good look at the screen. Shouyou folded in on himself a little, a defense mechanism he’d forced on himself when he spent three of his most formative years surrounded by people larger than he was.

If he made himself small enough, he reasoned he’d be too hard to tease. Granted, he’d seen the trick in a documentary about domestic cats that Natsu had forced him to watch, but still. 

It did not work this time. Of course it didn’t. Not when that damn phone was the entire reason that this day wasn’t ordinary at all. 

See, Shouyou missed Japan. 

He missed the early morning walks – the ones characterized by soft drops of dew clinging to the lilies strewn along the road; the silence broken only by birdsong.

He missed the midnight trips to the kitchen – the ones where he’d find his mom still up by the stove; how she’d make him one of his favorite snacks when she realized he was awake too.

He missed the sounds – the ones that had to do with volleyball, mostly. The tell-tale squeak of his soles against the hardwood floor; the rough slap of skin against synthesized leather; the screeches of “nice receive!” and “get the last!”

He missed the summers – the ones that weren’t as scorching as the ones in Brazil, but softer; rays of light filtering in through half-drawn blinds without burning Shouyou with their warmth. 

He missed the people – the ones that had been there for him from the start and the ones who he’d crossed paths with later in life; the friends he could spend hours playing volleyball with and even more simply talking; the senpais that had helped him grow and the classmates that had kept his ego in check; the memories he’d made; and most wholeheartedly, he missed–

“It is Kageyama, is it not?” 

Heitor’s voice jolted Shouyou from his reverie. He cringed a little. Because his friend wasn’t wrong. Right there, smack in the middle of Shouyou’s phone screen, sat the thing he missed the very most: one Kageyama Tobio. 

And the picture was exactly why this day was like no other. 

Shouyou knew he preferred Kageyama’s company above everyone else’s. He was aware that nothing could make adrenaline rush through his veins quite like hitting one of the boy’s tosses did. He couldn’t deny that in the three years they’d spent together he had become incredibly fond of his setter, nor could he refute the allegations his teammates had jokingly thrown at him – he had, perhaps, on more than one occasion, ogled him like he was a piece of meat being sold at the market. 

But Shouyou had convinced himself that the only reason he stared at the harsh planes of Kageyama’s body was to make sure he didn’t have any undetected injuries. He did it because he was concerned, as his friend. 

This, however? It was not something he could explain away with concerns he conjured up in the middle of the night. It was incriminating evidence. 

He drew his hands over his head to hide his embarrassment, prayed to all the gods above – and down below, he wouldn’t really judge at this point – that the redness in his face could be blamed on the heat. 

He swallowed thickly and nodded, “yeah,” he said, “that’s Kageyama.”

Heitor looked at him knowingly, Shouyou already feared the moment his friend would open his mouth. He was right to do so. 

“Is there any particular reason you were staring at a compilation of…” he glanced back to the phone and laughed again, “top 10 tobithigh moments?”

Shouyou’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Of course he knew that was exactly what he’d been doing when Heitor sneaked up on him. Of course he knew that meant his friend had seen the video’s thumbnail too. But that didn’t make him any more ready to be confronted with his choices. 

Yeah, the heat creeping into his skin definitely couldn’t be blamed on the weather anymore. 

He lifted his hands from his cheeks and groaned, “I can explain,” he said. 

He couldn’t. There was no heterosexual explanation for him looking at Kageyama’s thighs from various angles, straining just a little differently in each shot. There certainly wasn’t an excuse for his stomach to swoop and his ears to buzz while watching it, either. 

This day wasn’t ordinary at all. Because it marked a monumental change in Shouyou’s life. One that perhaps wasn’t much of a change at all, but more of a realization. 

Shouyou was in love with his best friend. 

He was inexplicably fond of the boy who’d called him a dumbass more times than he could count but had stuck close to him regardless. He was hopelessly infatuated with the grumpy kid that had held out his hand for Shouyou to latch onto, that had told him that he could jump higher, that he could reach farther, that he could be better. 

He was royally, royally, fucked. 

Because here he was, sitting on some overheated concrete in the middle of Rio de Janeiro, wanting nothing more than to be cuddled up with a boy that had never expressed any interest in him. In dating anyone at all. 

And Shouyou simply couldn’t ascribe it to homesickness anymore when he caught sight of a glistening expanse of skin and his breath hitched. He couldn’t blame a wayward lock of hair for wanting to run his hand through it – Kageyama wasn’t there, and his hair didn’t have any cowlicks anymore. 

Shouyou could only point his finger at himself and his traitorous heart skipping a beat whenever Kageyama’s face told him just how much fun he was having out there. Without him. 

Shouyou was undeniably, irrevocably, unabashedly in love with his best friend. 

Who was 11540 miles away from him. Who was climbing to greater heights steadily, grinning back down at him as if he was asking if Shouyou was still going to catch up. And the weird part was that he didn’t doubt that Kageyama would wait. The thought only made more butterflies dance around in his stomach. 

Stupid feelings. Stupid timezones. Stupid distance. Stupid televised volleyball matches. Stupid Kageyama. Stupid, stupid, stupid Shouyou. 

Stupid Heitor who was still looking at him as if he’d just completed a comedy set: mouth quirked up in badly contained laughter, lip trembling slightly with the effort to hold it in, brow raised as if he knew more than he let on. 

“Do tell,” he quipped, “I’d love to hear it.”

Shouyou tried his hardest not to groan in misery. He pouted indignantly instead, “it’s for training,” he said. 

It wasn’t a complete lie. Watching Kageyama’s games meant gaining insightful volleyball knowledge – namely, how to beat him – and gave him a goal to chase. It was training. But that didn’t quite explain–

“Watching compilations of your friend doing squats…” Heitor mused, “is training?”

“It just came up in the queue!” Shouyou squealed. 

It was honestly impressive how quickly he came up with these half-truths. Natsu would be proud of him. 

Heitor, however, didn’t look entirely convinced, “it’s been playing for four minutes, Shouyou,” he deadpanned. 

“Can you shut up?” Shouyou wailed, a little too loudly for the amount of people still skipping along the beach. Luckily, no one really cared about a bit of noise. No one except for Nice, who had finished talking to the tourists and came to join the duo on the steps. 

“Heitor,” she warned – though affection bled through her voice, “don’t bully Shouyou about his crush–”

Shouyou was suddenly a lot less happy with her interruption. 

“It’s not a crush!” he hissed, unable to keep the misery from his voice this time. Both Nice and Heitor looked at him as if someone just stole his popsicle out from under him – with a whole lot of pity that Shouyou didn’t want. 

“Sure, man,” Heitor shrugged. 

“If you say so,” Nice added. 

Shouyou did say so. Shouyou was also a pathological liar, apparently. One that desperately needed a new way to check out Kageyama’s volleyball moves, because youtube didn’t seem to be private anymore and he was not dealing with this again. 

He grumpily sucked on his popsicle – staining his tongue the littlest bit of blue – and vowed not to engage in a conversation with his quote, unquote, “friends” anymore. He held true to his word for exactly two minutes, when Nice and Heitor started to discuss their upcoming tournament. And well, he couldn’t miss that conversation, could he?

୭

Despite the lazy hours he and his friends had spent gossiping and giggling to end the day, Shouyou was skittish. The walk home wasn’t half as relaxing as it usually was. He didn’t stop by the vendors packing up their wares to go home for the day to start meaningless conversations with them. He didn’t smile brightly thinking about the adventures he’d have tomorrow. He didn’t even stop to pet the dog tied to the pole in front of the supermarket in his street. 

Shouyou was in his head. And it was not a place he liked to be. 

Heitor’s words about his choice of video were still ringing in his ears, Nice’s comment on his so-called crush on the forefront of his mind. Because they weren’t wrong, were they?

Still, he couldn’t have people see his search history and discover just how many videos he’d watched – he’d fallen deep into a Kageyama-shaped rabbit hole a couple nights back, when he was particularly missing home. It was a little embarrassing, if he was honest. 

He opened the door to his apartment – or tried to anyway, he didn’t immediately succeed in not dropping his keys – and sighed deeply as he stepped inside. The place was nice, as all of Rio was, but it only distracted him a little from the fact that it wasn’t home. 

Shouyou went looking for Pedro to cheer him up before realizing his roommate had taken a night shift. He wouldn’t be home for a while. Shouyou felt miserable as he threw himself onto the couch in a way that could rival most telenovela teens. 

He groaned. It had been a while since he’d felt the dull sting of nostalgia, since he’d yearned for Japan and the people it held captive. And usually, he’d dig through the depths of the internet to eventually land on the face of his very best friend – contorted with concentration and effort as he slammed a serve in the opposite court. 

See, it wasn’t like Shouyou only missed Kageyama. He missed his mom, he missed his sister, he missed the rest of his friends. But the other people he loved were a lot harder to have access to at any given time. And even content of Tsukishima – playing in Division 2 – was hard to come by. 

So Shouyou could only settle for the setter. With his dumb blue eyes and even dumber fringe that Shouyou just knew made Miwa wake up in a cold sweat thinking about it. He chuckled fondly, the memory of him visiting Kageyama’s house only to discover his sister was there too resurfacing. 

Shouyou could only stare at the highlight reels and interviews and memes that featured Kageyama’s face. And slowly but surely, it had become a way to reach home without reaching out. One Shouyou couldn’t bear to lose. 

So yes, he’d gone through fifteen youtube playlist in a night. And yes, he’d realized that the fluttering in his stomach whenever Kageyama looked at him wasn’t IBS at all. It had only taken him four years and a trip to the other side of the world to figure it out. But now that he had there really wasn’t any way around it. 

He was in love with his best friend. And he had no way to deal with it but to confess his stupid secret to the phone screen lighting up the darkness of his room. 

He hoisted himself upright and groaned again, picking his phone out of his pocket only to feel his heart sink again. He’d forgotten that the case protecting it was something Kageyama had gotten for him. He couldn’t quite believe he didn’t remember that specific fact every single time he looked at the blue and white, milk-shaped silicone. 

Because right now, there was little else he could think about but the way Kageyama had called his name. The way he’d huffed and shoved a package into his face. The way he’d turned his face away the second Shouyou started opening it. The way he could swear there was just a hint of rose-pink dusting the setter’s cheeks when he thanked him for the gift. The way he hadn’t quite known what to do with his arms when Kageyama had pulled him into a crushing hug. The way his voice had caught in his throat when the setter mumbled “don’t die out there, dumbass.” against the crook of Shouyou’s neck. 

He got goosebumps just thinking about it. 

He should have told him, back then. Should have hugged him tight and told him he’d miss him. Should’ve plastered a proud smile on his face to order Kageyama to play a lot and to win even more, should’ve added to that that he’d be there to beat him soon. 

He should have told him he loved him. 

But he didn’t really know it back then. And now Kageyama was out of reach and Shouyou was here feeling sorry for himself. God, he really needed more friends. 

More… friends?

He wanted to kiss his brain because that gave him the best idea he’d had in a while, if he did say so himself. He opened the app store, hit download and waited for the gray wheel to stop spinning. 

And there it was. Sitting prettily on his home screen. A blue icon with a white bird flying away. The wonderful public domain known as twitter dot com. 

He’d heard about it, of course. It was a popular social media in Brazil – way more popular than it was back home – and he wasn’t that out of touch with technology. But he’d never thought to try it for himself. 

He typed in the first username that came to mind – sunshineshouyou1996 – and started browsing. His smile grew wider as the algorithm quickly picked up on his preferences. Within hours, his timeline was flooded with various volleyball photos and videos he wished he could print and hang on his walls. There were hot takes and fans declaring their love to players. There was art and poems dedicated to them, to the sport. Shouyou loved it. 

He scrolled and scrolled and scrolled. Before he knew it, he tweeted out some of the screenshots of Kageyama he’d taken himself. One of which immediately got some traction. A couple people commented on the pictures and retweeted them for their friends to see. It was something Shouyou could get used to. 

He kept scrolling through the app – hitting “follow” more times than he could count – before seeing a notification bubble up on the lower right corner of his screen. He’d gotten a dm. 

After establishing that the message was from someone who “stanned” Kageyama and was glad to see someone else appreciate him too, Shouyou was added to a group chat.

The people – his new friends – kindly told him that it might be safer for him to change his username and profile picture so he’d stay somewhat anonymous, and he nearly smacked himself for not thinking about it sooner. He didn’t need people he actually knew to find out about his collection of Kageyama screenshots. God, what if Kageyama found out? Shouyou would never live it down. 

And so, after careful consideration, he changed his profile picture to one he’d taken himself. It was a picture of Kageyama in high school, sleeping softly next to him on the bus. The group chat went wild when they saw it, and kept yelling at him to stop gate-keeping such high quality Kageyama content. Shouyou chuckled, he had a lot more of those. 

He gulped when the time came to change his username. Choosing one seemed like a big responsibility. One he’d gladly hand over to his new friends who gave him a couple suggestions. Eventually, he settled on @spicysetter. He couldn’t believe it wasn’t taken yet. 

Shouyou followed more people, commented on a ton of tweets, and got a couple more dms. It was fun, it was freeing, it was suddenly 2 am. His phone buzzed with another notification, a text this time. 

Shouyou huffed a surprised breath. Because for the first time in a long time, he’d forgotten about the people back home. 

୭

His account kept growing steadily. Shouyou kept having fun and pumping out content like there was no tomorrow, especially now that Pedro had taught him how to make fancams. 

It still felt a little weird sometimes; making edits of the boy he was in love with, the boy he was supposed to return home to in a couple of months. But the awkwardness was quickly replaced by thousands of likes and comments. And the pride swelling in Shouyou’s chest whenever he saw a new video of Kageyama’s progress was enough to cancel out any lingering doubts about his account. 

Twitter proved to be a goldmine full of little nuggets of Kageyama that even Shouyou hadn’t seen before. And as his status on the app grew, so did his peers’. Not only for Kageyama – who had clinched his position as best server of the season – but other friends he’d met in high school too. 

He saw more and more fan accounts for Bokuto pop up, and Atsumu seemed to be rather popular too. It was fun seeing the people he’d played with back then make it big, even if it did sting a little that he wasn’t there to join them.

Not yet, he reminded himself. He wasn’t at that level yet. He was still biding his time. But come next season, Shouyou would finally make his comeback  onto the Japanese volleyball scene. Or he hoped, at least. He’d already signed up for try-outs, he only hoped he could show the teams what he was made of. 

He smiled as he stirred the milk through his coffee, something he’d only recently learned to drink. Man, he couldn’t wait to play without having to find sand in his bed the next morning no matter how well he’d rinsed off the night before. 

He’d grown into his life here, come to love it, even. He didn’t miss Japan as much as he had in those first few months, though he counted down the days until he set foot on Japanese soil again. Perhaps it didn’t hurt as much being away because he’d found a way to keep up with the people there, he thought. 

The internet really was a beautiful place. 

A notification made him pick up his phone. He clicked on the group chat only to be greeted by Kageyama’s pout. The setter appeared to be doing fan service. Shouyou laughed, Kageyama hadn’t changed at all. His brows were scrunched tightly in concentration, his lips were pressed into a firm line. He looked ridiculous. 

He looked beautiful. 

Shouyou was still going to make fun of him, though. He saved the picture, added a volleyball to Kageyama’s forehead to mimic his brain and added the caption “no thoughts, just volleyball.” 

He hit tweet and didn’t look back. 

୭

Eight months later saw Shouyou busting his ass in practice. You know, with his professional volleyball team. That he got invited on. No big deal. Shouyou hadn’t screamed about it at all when he got the call a couple months ago. 

Nor had he cried when his first ever match as a v-league player happened to take place in Tokyo. When he’d stared right into eyes he’d seen through a grainy screen so many times over the last two years. Deep blue eyes that looked so much better in real life, the same ones that Shouyou had been drowning in since his first year of high school. Sharp, cool eyes that warmed just a little when they locked right onto Shouyou’s – a hint of excitement crinkling the skin around them. 

Shouyou was there. He was home. 

He’d fallen back into his life easier than he expected to. Despite the fact that everything had changed, it was as if nothing had at all. He still got along with Bokuto, he still admired Atsumu, and Sakusa, and Hoshiumi, and Ushijima. He still got invited for drinks by his former classmates and they still laughed like old times. And don’t even get him started on–

“Kageyama?!”

Shouyou’s yell was louder than he intended. But he couldn’t really help it when the boy – man, god? – of his dreams was suddenly in his rival’s gym. The ball – which Atsumu had painstakingly set for him – fell right on Shouyou’s head. He didn’t really care. Took more interest in the snort that left Kageyama’s lips. 

“Don’t laugh at me, Bakayama!” he yelled, even louder this time. His poor, poor teammates.  

Kageyama sauntered into the gym further, almost like he owned the damn place. Hell, Shouyou would give him the keys if only he asked. That didn’t change the reality that this wasn’t, in fact, Kageyama’s gym, as clearly evidenced by the hoots and dramatic gasps coming from the court. 

Even Sakusa looked somewhat shocked at his arrival as Inunaki clutched his heart and fell to the ground, Bokuto pointed at Kageyama with his mouth gaping like a fish and Atsumu gasped before yelling “spy!”

Kageyama didn’t really seem to mind it as he clambered over the railing separating the seats from the court. God, if only Shouyou could take pictures by blinking. He’d go viral within seconds. 

“What are you–” he started to say, but his words got stuck in his throat when Kageyama was suddenly in front of him. The setter slid his fingers around Shouyou’s wrist and tugged slightly before looking around the gym, finding all eyes already on him. 

“I’m stealing this dumbass for a second,” he said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world and Shouyou wasn’t busy hyperventilating because what the fuck? 

Shouyou’s eyes wandered to his captain, who didn’t seem surprised at all. Atsumu, however, didn’t seem entirely on board with the plan. “Coach,” he whined. 

Coach Foster only shrugged as if he’d orchestrated the damn thing, “Kageyama-kun called before he got here, I told him he could take Hinata away for the last ten minutes”

“But coach,” a chorus of voices called, “not cool,” Thomas added. 

Shouyou’s brain came back online. Coach approved this? When they were nearing the end of the season? Why?  He looked up at Kageyama, who was still hanging onto his arm, and nodded. 

“Well, let’s go then,” he said, only 50% as shaky as he felt. 

He watched with panicked eyes as the groans in the room made way for smirks, raised eyebrows and a yell of “when I said fuck the Adlers I didn’t mean literally” which really, Meian? Shouyou expected better of his captain. 

The noise quickly faded when Kageyama tugged him into the adjacent locker room. Shouyou had half a mind to look offended when he was unceremoniously dropped onto the bench. 

“What the fuck are you–”

“The calls,” Kageyama interrupted swiftly. And it was enough to make Shouyou shut up indeed. Because what else could Kageyama be talking about?

“They’re gonna start making them in,” Kageyama looked at his watch – his friends’ gift for his last birthday – and looked Shouyou square in the eye, “ten minutes,” he added. 

Shouyou blinked at him, trying to slow the beat of his heart. The poor thing was really being tested when 1) Shouyou had just finished practice, sort of, 2) Kageyama had dragged him into an abandoned locker room and Shouyou could still feel his skin tingling where he’d touched him and, 3) he might be offered a spot on the national team in ten fucking minutes.

He shook his head, a question suddenly rising in his addled brain. 

“Wait,” he said, “how do you know that?”

Kageyama shrugged, “I already got mine.”

Shouyou was on him in a second, jostling him around as if he was made of feathers, “you got what? Oh my god! Congratulations, Kageyama, holy shit!”

He saw the setter’s lip quirk up ever so slightly, like he wanted to hide it but couldn’t quite contain the happiness bubbling up inside him. Of course Kageyama had already made the national team before, but that didn’t make it any less special that he got the call again. 

Shouyou lunged for a hug that Kageyama looked ready to return. It was only when Shouyou’s head was buried in the crook of the setter’s neck that he realized just how close they were – that Kageyama could probably feel the beating of his heart. 

Ah, who gave a shit. Shouyou could always blame it on one of the other two reasons it was currently in overdrive. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered. 

Kageyama’s hand came up to his arm to squeeze it lightly, “thank you, Hinata. Now get off of me before you suffocate me, dumbass.”

Hinata gasped dramatically before pulling back with a grin so big he feared it might reach his ears. Suddenly, another realization dawned on him. 

“Wait,” he said again, “how do you already know? I thought they were going to start making calls in a couple minutes?”

Kageyama scratched his neck. It shouldn’t be as endearing as it was, Shouyou thought. 

“Apparently they always call old recruits first,” he said sheepishly, “I only know they’ll call the other soon because–” he stopped himself to clear his throat. It piqued Shouyou’s interest, but not enough to interrupt him. Kageyama’s voice was back soon “well, it doesn’t matter. I just know,” he settled on. 

Shouyou groaned as he punched the setter in the arm lightly, “you are insufferable,” he whined, “don’t just hold things from me, bakageyama!”

Kageyama huffed a breath that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Shouyou narrowed his eyes at him. He was ready to insult him some more when yet another thought struck him. 

“Wait,” he said again – he was eloquent that way, “what are you doing here?”

Kageyama looked confused, “I just told you, dumbass, the calls–”

“– are being made soon, yes you told me that,” Shouyou interrupted, “But why are you here? You live in Tokyo, you just got your own call for god’s sake. Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, be celebrating with your teammates?”

Kageyama turned his face away from him and mumbled something Shouyou couldn’t quite hear.

“What was that?” Shouyou asked, jumping off the bench to move into Kageyama’s face. “I didn’t catch that.”

Kageyama huffed an annoyed breath and crossed his arms. His pout was cuter than Shouyou would like to admit when he spoke again. 

“I said,” he drew out, “I wasn’t in Tokyo when I got the call.”

Now that really threw Shouyou for a loop. “What do you mean, you weren’t in Tokyo when you got the call? Didn’t you have practice? Why the hell would you miss practice?”

If Kageyama picked up on the fact that Shouyou had his practice schedule memorized, he didn’t mention it. Shouyou silently thanked the gods that his little slip-up had gone unnoticed. He simultaneously cursed twitter user @dadlers for even uncovering the Adler’s training regimen in the first place. 

Kageyama opened his mouth only to close it again. He looked so much like a fish Shouyou would have laughed if he wasn’t adamant on finding out the reason for Kageyama skipping volleyball. 

Finally, the setter seemed to have found some words, “I–” he started, his eyes darting from the floor to the wall to – anywhere but Shouyou, really. 

“Yes?” Shouyou encouraged him, “you what?”

Kageyama closed his eyes only to snap them open immediately. He looked almost flustered. Which was absolutely ridiculous. He shouldn’t be this embarrassed about missing practice, though Shouyou would still make sure he’d get his ass handed to him regardless. 

“I wanted to–”

He never got to finish his sentence. Because suddenly, Shouyou’s phone started ringing. He took it out of his pocket on instinct, then nearly dropped it when realization hit. 

Oh god, oh god, oh god. 

They both looked at the device for a second, not entirely sure what to do. Shouyou felt like he was dreaming until he felt a hand come down on his head. 

“Pick up!” Kageyama screamed. 

“You pick up!” Shouyou yelled back. It didn’t really make sense, he knew, but this whole situation was really tripping him up. 

Kageyama barked a “dumbass, how the fuck do you suppose that’d work?” before Shouyou finally answered the call. 

It was silent but for the garbled tone coming from the other side of the line. Shouyou’s lips started trembling, he saw Kageyama watching him in anticipation as he whispered a “thank you.”

The second he hung up, it was quiet again. Shouyou didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to make it so the floodgates would stay closed. He just stood there, pinned to the ground. 

But one look at Kageyama’s nervous face was all it took for the dam to break. He dropped to the floor, hands flying up to his face as he let his tears run freely. 

“I did it,” he whispered before grabbing onto the setter that had crouched down in front of him, “Kageyama, I did it!” he yelled, “we did it, we fucking made it!” 

Through his haze of tears Shouyou saw his friend sniffle too, it only made him cling to him that much tighter. 

“Top of the world stage,” Kageyama whispered before smirking, “took you long enough.”

Shouyou hit him in the chest but laughed anyway. Perhaps he was going manic, but he couldn’t stop laughing and crying and holding onto Kageyama like he’d wake up from a dream if he let go. And Kageyama let him. Held onto him with the same ferociousness, grinned down on him with the smile Shouyou had come to known as pride. 

“Pinch me,” Shouyou whispered. And Kageyama – perhaps a little too enthusiastically – obliged. Shouyou’s skin stung with wonderful realization. 

They were going to the Olympics together. And nothing could remove the rose-colored glasses from his–

“Well, well well.”

Inunaki’s voice boomed through the locker room. Shouyou jumped up, still teary-eyed but slowly coming to his senses.  “I thought we said no canoodling with the enemy,” Inunaki continued, sighing dramatically. 

“I wasn’t–”

“We weren’t–”

Suddenly, something seemed to dawn on the libero. “Oh. My. God,” he screeched, looking from Shouyou to the phone laying on the ground, “Shouyou, oh my–”

Before Shouyou knew it, he was being hauled to his feet and wrapped in a bone-crushing hug, “congratu-fucking-lations,” Inunaki yelled, “I’m so fucking proud of– Guys!” he screamed, seeing the rest of the team trail in behind him, Bokuto, Atsumu and Sakusa wearing bigger smiles than usual. 

“We got another one!” Inunaki went on. And the locker room exploded. 

Four of them. Four MSBY players were going to the Olympics. The others cheered even louder than the chosen ones did. And the only one Shouyou could look at, was the eagle among the jackals. 

୭

That night, Shouyou didn’t get much sleep. 

He’d spent much of it celebrating his new-found position on the national team with his teammates – and Kageyama, who he’d convinced to stay too. They didn’t get as drunk as they should have, couldn’t possibly when they were still in-season. But the celebratory shot still tasted like victory. 

Shouyou had danced across the sticky floor of the bar and laughed until his throat hurt. And even then, he still made sure to talk Kageyama’s ears off. He’d resisted the urge to melt into a puddle whenever the setter smiled fondly at him, when he poked Shouyou in the head and told him – once again – how proud he was. 

It was impossible for the darkness of the night to claim him after that. 

He was back at his apartment, restless enough to make his way to the kitchen for an impromptu snack, when he decided to open his twitter. 

He’d made a personal account not too long ago, a blue tick sparkling right next to his name. He didn’t know how he kept getting so lucky when selecting usernames, but @ninjashouyou was free for him to use. And use it he did. 

He’d sent out a tweet announcing that he was going to represent his country. The picture he’d added was nice. It consisted of him grinning widely, Bokuto hanging on one arm with an equally big smile, and Kageyama on the other, looking at Shouyou amusedly. Atsumu was bringing Sakusa in closer so he could fit into the frame. The blonde looked like he’d already won Olympic gold, and Sakusa didn’t look as disgusted by the touch as one would have thought he might. 

It was fun, it was joyous, it was definitely making its way across stan twitter right about now. Shouyou would know. 

He quickly switched accounts to see that cropped versions of the picture he’d posted were, indeed, going around. Along with the hashtag #sakuatsu – which made him giggle like a twelve year old child – and a bunch of incoherent screeches. 

He saw his own face pop up a couple of times. Which was sort of weird, but not a new occurrence. It had been happening more often lately. Fan accounts dedicated to him turning to follow @spicysetter. It was sort of funny to him how they didn’t even realize they were interacting with the same dude they had set as their profile picture. 

More interestingly though, were the edits of Kageyama he saw. All modeled after his own, which he’d tweeted exactly two minutes after posting the initial picture but had edited two hours earlier. 

Some of his internet friends laughed at his enthusiasm, sent him lightning mcqueen memes with the text “this u?”. Shouyou could only snicker softly at their responses. 

He really did love the environment he’d created for himself. He loved the steady stream of interactions each of his tweets got, he loved the group chats he was in and the people that wanted to talk to him, he loved the content of him and his friends that was being pumped out like there was no tomorrow. He felt a little like a spy. 

He loved his own nickname even better. 

He hadn’t been the one to come up with it nor was he entirely sure what he did to obtain it. But his friends – and twelve thousand followers – had unanimously agreed that he was deserving of it. 

Shouyou had had many nicknames over the years. Most – tangerine of terror, freak twin #2, shrimp, carrot top – had gone out of use over the years, only a few of his friends clinging onto them like they were able to bring back the good old days. Some – like dumbass – he listened to like it was his own name. And there were other that had changed his life — the greatest decoy, Ninja Shouyou. 

He supposed he was easy to nickname, hard to miss. But he never thought that would translate into the online world too. But there it was, lighting up his notification center dozens of times. 

The Prince.

He was proud of it, inexplicably so. It felt good to be recognized, to be praised. Even if he was being praised for doing mundane things on the internet. 

Shouyou smiled involuntarily as he took a bite of the leftover rice he’d dumped onto a plate. His life could not get any better. Fried rice, twitter fame, a night out with some of his favorite people to celebrate the greatest accomplishment of his career thus far. 

Shouyou was going to be an Olympic fucking athlete. 

୭

No matter how much Shouyou loved to train, he was glad to be off doing promotional work instead today. Of course he loved the satisfying burn of his muscles after working hard. Of course he loved the lingering sting of his palm after smacking volleyball after volleyball onto the opposite side of the court. Of course he loved the fulfilling sensation of digging a ball to keep the rally going just a little longer. 

Volleyball was one of the greatest joys of his life. But talking was not that far behind in the rankings. So if Shouyou could combine the two? Well there were hardly any things that could make him more excited.

This interview, specifically? It nearly had him vibrating on his seat in anticipation as he waited for his mic to get attached. Because sitting to his left was his promo partner for the day; one Kageyama Tobio. 

Shouyou was, once again, reminded just how absurdly in love he was. 

Who wouldn’t be when Kageyama looked like that. When he somehow seemed focused and relaxed all at once, like he wanted to do well in the interview but was comforted by the knowledge that he didn’t have to do it alone. When he sniffled softly as the assistant brushed some powder under his nose to keep the soft sheen of his skin from blinding viewers at home. When Shouyou snorted at the sight and he turned around with venom in his eyes, dissipating the second he caught sight of his best friend. When Kageyama rolled his eyes and smiled at him, warmer than Shouyou thought possible under the harsh trailer lights. 

Kageyama was beautiful. And he didn’t even realize it. 

Meanwhile Shouyou was scrambling for purchase. Trying his very hardest not to slip into Kageyama’s trap deeper. But it was no use. The rocks he was clinging to were crumbling and before he knew it he was free-falling off the mountain with no safety net to catch him.  

“You ready?”

The whisper was so soft the mics pinned to their jackets didn’t pick it up. Shouyou, however, certainly did. He couldn’t possibly miss it when Kageyama had leaned in a little closer, when Shouyou could nearly count his lashes from the proximity. He took a deep breath and nodded once, then twice. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Kageyama suddenly smirked at him, “I’ll bet you 1000¥ you’ll say something embarrassing.”

Shouyou yelped indignantly, “I never say embarrassing things!” he said before adding a quick, “you’re so on.”

The second he finished speaking a woman came up to them. She shook their hands, told them her name was Lin and that she’d be interviewing them today. She was nice, Shouyou thought. Smart too. He got the feeling she’d keep the interview light and airy, like she wanted Kageyama and him to be as comfortable as possible. Shouyou couldn’t wait to see how it’d turn out. 

They were led to the stage where the interview would take place. It was supposed to be filmed with an audience in the room to, quote, unquote, enhance the ambiance. Whatever that meant, Shouyou didn’t know. He did know, however, that it meant he was going to be talking in front of a lot of people. And that there’d be a camera turned to his face to broadcast his words to even more people. 

He felt a little underdressed, now that he thought about it. Of course, he hadn’t picked the outfit himself. He was just told to put on his jersey and the matching track suit that all members of the national team wore. 

Kageyama must have noticed because suddenly, his hand was on Shouyou’s knee. Squeezing briefly before retreating back to the setter’s side. It took Shouyou his best effort not to show his response to that on his face. Still, he couldn’t really dwell on it when the lights turned a little brighter and the camera to his side started blinking to life. When he’d adjusted to the light, he was greeted by thousands of faces looking at him eagerly. 

The audience didn’t quite register when Lin started speaking. 

“Welcome, welcome, welcome all!” she said cheerily, “thanks for tuning in! Today I’m joined by team Japan’s new terrifying tandem. So please put your hands together for our ferocious setter, number 9, Kageyama Tobio!”

The crowd roared to life. Shouyou’s grin grew wider. 

Lin reigned them in expertly, resuming her introduction when it was relatively quiet again, “yes!” she laughed, “a star player indeed.”

Shouyou looked to his left to see Kageyama smile shyly. When his heart started pounding just a little harder, he quickly turned away. 

“But his partner certainly isn’t any less worthy of a standing ovation,” Lin continued, “I’m pleased to introduce you to the greatest decoy, number 10, Hinata Shouyou!”

Once again, Shouyou’s ears were filled with thunderous applause. It was sort of like an out-of-body experience, hearing all these people cheer for him. He suddenly understood Kageyama’s humble smile. In fact, it took him some will-power not to tear up at the realization that he really made it. That there were people that paid to hear him speak, even more to watch him play. 

His skin broke out in goosebumps. He didn’t have to move his head to know that Kageyama was looking at him now, a smirk playing on his face. Shouyou returned it subconsciously, they were in this together. 

After a while, Shouyou realized he was right. Lin did seem to try and make the duo as comfortable as possible. She explained that – to the amusement of the audience – all questions were picked off the internet. They were things their fans wanted to know. 

They weren’t hard to answer at all. 

Not when most of their fans wanted to know how the duo knew each other and Kageyama snorted while recalling their first meeting.

“See,” he said after he got his laughter under control, “this dumbass here tried to beat me from the second he laid eyes on me.”

Shouyou laughed now too as he shoved at his friend lightly, “and this grumpy thing was determined not to let me.”

Lin laughed along with them before trying to steer the conversation into a strait that was more easy for the general public to follow. 

“You went to high school together, right?” she asked. 

Shouyou nodded, “yep!” he said, “We first met each other in my first and last game in middle school. He beat me horrendously and I ran after him to promise I’d be the one to shove him of his throne–”

“– it was ridiculous,” Kageyama interjected, “Hinata had never played with an actual team before and man, could you tell,” he laughed. 

Shouyou gaped at him before laughing too, “okay fine, I guess I was terrible. But you still promised to meet me at the top of the world stage, didn’t you?”

Kageyama rolled his eyes, “I guess I did,” he said before lifting his gaze to the audience as if they were the wind that carried his next words. 

“But he didn’t get to beat me in those next three years because – on pure luck – we ended up enrolling in the same high school.”

Shouyou nodded wistfully, “and then I didn’t suck–”

Kageyama raised his brow at him. Shouyou shoved him again and rolled his eyes.

“– as much,” he added. 

The crowd ate their words up, as did Lin. They explained how they ended up being known as the “freak twins of Karasuno” and helping their team reach nationals three times in a row, adding onto each other words like it was a competition between them. 

Lin asked them a couple more questions. She asked them what their favorite high school memories were, what they thought about their teammates and them being dubbed the “monster generation”, and what advice they’d give young players. 

They answered each question more easily than the last, in sync as they’d always been. Whenever Kageyama fell silent, Shouyou was there to fill the void. And if Shouyou couldn’t get his thoughts out in order, Kageyama was there to guide them. They were just wired that way, innately ready to jump to the other’s defense when needed. 

Shouyou had done so for years. Both in real life – when people kept tormenting Kageyama with nicknames he’d long grown out of – and online – when trolls simply couldn’t wrap their tiny little brains around the fact that the setter was really that good. 

He supposed Kageyama had done the same for him – always telling him that it didn’t matter what other people thought. That it was a good thing to be underestimated because of his height, because it would only make it easier to make the haters eat their words later. Now that Shouyou thought about it, Kageyama had been the first one to irrevocably believe in him, no ifs, buts, or maybes. 

It made Shouyou’s heart swell with more things than simply nostalgia and pride. It filled him with warm fires and swooping waves. It loaded him with love. 

A love that grew bigger with every look, with every smile, with every answer his best friend gave. Shouyou was afraid his heart would overflow by the end of the interview. 

Luckily for him, the gods apparently owed him. Lin seemed to get ready to wrap up the interview, Shouyou was almost ready to relax again. And to collect his 1000¥. He hadn’t let any embarrassing secrets slip. Ha! Take that, bully-yama. 

“Well guys,” Lin said, “I’m afraid our time together is almost up.”

She waited for the boos from the audience to die down before raising her voice again, “but we saved the best for last!”

Shouyou smiled brightly again. The interview had been fun so far, he couldn’t wait to see what else Lin had in store for them. 

“So,” she said as she turned to the duo again, “little birdie told me that you two are both quite popular online.”

Kageyama produced a little confused grunt that Shouyou should not feel as enamored by as he did. But that was before he saw his life flash before his eyes. Because suddenly he realized–

“So popular,” Lin continued, “that there are whole accounts dedicated to you!”

Shouyou eyed her warily. He absolutely did not feel comfortable with the route this interview was threatening to take. If Lin noticed Shouyou slipping into the pits of hell, she didn’t say anything. 

“Seriously,” she went on happily, “there was an entire twitter war to determine who could use the username shouyousfreckles’ ,’ she laughed. 

Shouyou breathed a weak chuckle that even he didn’t find convincing. And apparently, Kageyama didn’t either because he raised a suspicious brow at him, as if to ask him what was wrong. But Shouyou couldn’t quite focus on that. Not when–

“And Kageyama-kun,” Lin dawdled as she turned towards him like this was their little world and not an interview broadcasted to thousands of fans. 

“Our production team couldn’t even count the amount of fan accounts made in your honor,” she laughed. 

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh–

“So we just took some tweets posted by a couple of them. Though there was one in particular that stood out,” she added. 

Shouyou was nearing hyperventilation, doing everything in his power not to let his nerves show on his face. He would be absolutely fucked if they did. He didn’t think it could get any worse–

Kageyama laughed. 

He honest to god laughed and opened his mouth to speak, “spicysetter, right?” he said. 

There was no god. Shouyou wanted the earth to swallow him whole, it could even burp after if it wanted. There was no way this was happening. He tried not to look as panicked as he felt when he looked up at Kageyama’s face. 

His friend was already looking at him, almost as if he was telling Shouyou he knew. He was about to open his mouth to say – god, anything, really – when Lin’s voice boomed through the studio. Shouyou had never been happier with an interruption in his life. 

“That’s the one!” Lin laughed, “but I promise there’s tons of other people out there with absolute banger tweets.”

Kageyama looked confused. Of course he did. How would he know any stan twitter lingo? Shouyou suppressed a snort. He couldn’t help it when Kageyama was being so adorably dorky. The setter, however, seemed to take it as an insult and pouted indignantly. It only forced Shouyou to work harder not to laugh in his face. 

Lin didn’t seem to quite catch up with it as she happily chattered along, rattling off a spit-fire round of questions selected from a couple of fan tweets. 

Shouyou heard the usernames of a couple of his mutuals. Shouyousfreckles – that he knew as Blue – seemed especially popular. He couldn’t stop a smile from blooming over his face. He already knew they’d be going feral when this video got released. He was a lot happier for them to be getting noticed by their faves than he was for himself. 

“Spicysetter again,” Lin laughed. 

Kageyama huffed a breath too before shaking his head, “unbelievable,” he muttered, “they really think about me a lot, huh?”

Shouyou had been a bit quiet. And in his mind that translated to “you need to say something, and quick!”. It was one of his biggest flaws and he knew it. Still, he couldn’t believe he was quite so unfortunate that his instinct overrode his brain and told him to run his blabbermouth now of all times. 

“Looks like they do,” he said, only to immediately follow it up with, “can you really blame them?”

Time seemed to stand still as Shouyou felt his eyes widen. Felt his heart rate quicken. Felt his breath catch in his throat. He had half a mind not to clasp his hand over his mouth – just in case people hadn’t understood him. 

The damage seemed to be minimal though, his second whisper gone by mostly unheard. He kept staring straight ahead, acting like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb that had the potential to ruin his life. He didn’t dare glance to the side, too afraid that Kageyama might have heard him. 

To her credit, Lin – who had definitely heard him just fine – glazed over his statement like it hadn’t  been there at all. Once again, Shouyou thanked all his lucky stars that he ended up with this goddess of a woman as his interviewer. 

She shot them a couple more questions that Shouyou was more than happy to answer. He only spoke over Kageyama once – something he was sure his media trainer wouldn’t be too happy about, but he had bigger things to worry about right now. 

Finally, Lin turned to the audience one final time. 

“Well folks, that was all for today! I hoped you guys had just as much fun with these two as I did!” she said enthusiastically, “now if you’d please put your hands together just once more. Kageyama Tobio and Hinata Shouyou, everyone!”

The crowd roared. The lights dimmed. The camera stopped buzzing. And Shouyou’s ears seem to take right over. 

୭

“Hinata!” 

Kageyama’s voice reverberated through the hall. It only made Shouyou’s pace quicken. He could not deal with this right now. He was going to race into a bathroom stall, potentially throw up, and pray Kageyama wouldn’t be standing outside when he came back out. 

“Hinata, wait!”

There was a hint of something there that Shouyou couldn’t quite put his finger on. Not when a thick, gray haze had taken over his consciousness. It was interesting, sure. But not as urgent as the adrenaline rushing through his veins. The feeling that something had to come out. 

So Shouyou definitely did not wait. In fact, he broke out in a sprint until he reached his destination. The second he registered Kageyama’s soles battering against the ground, he quickly locked the door. It was perhaps a little childish, with the way Kageyama was pulling the handle in hopes it would magically open, but Shouyou could finally breathe again. 

He inhaled deeply, held it for a few seconds before puffing the air out of his mouth. He repeated the motions until he could feel the hammering of his heart lessen. It was alright, he was safe, he was–

Stuck, he realized. He had knowingly backed himself into a corner with no way out safe for the door currently being knocked on by the very person he was running from. 

“Hinata,” Kageyama said again, softer this time. His voice dropped in time with the slaps of his knuckles against the hard plastic door. Shouyou strained his ears for more repeating taps, but they never came. Instead he heard his friend slump against the other side of the door, undoubtedly settling on the cold tile floor. 

He felt a little bad. 

“What do you want,” he said. It didn’t come across as hostile as he’d meant it to. 

“Please just talk to me,” Kageyama sighed. He sounded dejected, Shouyou thought. It only made him feel worse. He took another deep breath before finally switching the lock. 

“Promise not to laugh at me,” he whispered. 

His voice seemed to jolt Kageyama from his thoughts. Shouyou heard him scramble off the floor before he yanked the door open. Shouyou could only blink. Because of all the things he’d expected to see, this wasn’t it. 

Kageyama looked… afraid. He looked nervous. He looked hopeful, somehow. He looked the way he did that time he’d taken Shouyou and the other first years – well into their third year of high school by then – to the cherry-oak tree they sometimes ate lunch under. When he’d fiddled with his shirt and couldn’t look at them for five full minutes. When Yachi had softly asked him if he was okay and Kageyama had blurted out that he was gay. 

Just like then, all the air was ripped from Shouyou’s lungs. But unlike that day in the shade – when he’d hugged his friend and told him he was proud of him for sharing – Shouyou wasn’t sure what to do. Didn’t know where to look. 

“I–” he started to say. 

But Kageyama had never been one to let Shouyou one-up him. 

“Did you mean it?” Kageyama asked softly. His words fell from his lips so quickly it nearly gave Shouyou whiplash. He didn’t dare breathe, didn’t dare move, didn’t dare speak. Because what was there to say? 

“Hinata,” Kageyama whispered again. He brought a hand up to Shouyou’s face, and for a second Shouyou was afraid he’d hit him. But the hand only turned his head slightly so he couldn’t help but look into deep blue eyes. 

Kageyama kept looking at him, though his gaze turned a little more unsteady when he spoke again. “Did you mean it when you said spicysetter thinks about me? Did you mean it when you said you couldn’t blame them?” he said, his voice nothing but a whisper. 

Shouyou gulped, couldn’t do much else when Kageyama’s eyes had him pinned to the ground. When his words found their way deep inside Shouyou’s brain, where they echoed, and echoed, and echoed infinitely. 

He couldn’t answer the question. Not quite yet. 

“Did you mean it?” he returned, “when you looked at me like you knew exactly who you were talking about?”

His voice was so soft he wouldn’t be surprised if Kageyama didn’t hear him at all, but judging from the hand that dropped from his cheeks, the setter certainly hadn’t misheard him. 

Shouyou sort of missed the warmth of Kageyama’s hand on his skin. Now all that was left was the cold, hard truth. Kageyama knew. Shouyou was certain he did. His secret had been found out. Every second now, a disgusted frown would pull at Kageyama’s features and he’d tell Shouyou he would never set to him again–

“I–” Kageyama mumbled. And Shouyou was just so utterly done that he’d gladly help dig his own grave. 

“Did you know it was me?” he whispered, finally letting his head drop so he could stare at the tiles instead of Kageyama’s stupid face. 

“I had my suspicions,” Kageyama whispered. 

Shouyou hated how unsure he sounded. Like Shouyou hadn’t used his pictures to confess his admiration to him on the internet. Like this wasn’t one big humiliating mess. Shouyou wanted his friend to yell at him, to be angry, to demand he take the account down and never show his face near him again. He wanted him to be confused, to be weirded out, to have any reaction at all. 

Because what Shouyou was doing – had been doing for the past three years – wasn’t nothing. It was almost frustrating how unbothered Kageyama seemed to be. 

“Well?” Shouyou asked, voice hoarser than he intended, “aren’t you going to say something?”

Kageyama didn’t respond. Shouyou was getting angry. He shoved a finger into his friend’s chest as he raised his voice. 

“Fucking say something, Kageyama!” he yelled, “tell me I’m weird. Tell me you’re angry. Tell me you’re disgusted by my–”

He couldn’t finish his sentence. Because suddenly, Kageyama’s slightly sweaty hand was covering his lips. 

“Can you shut up for a second?” he hissed, “God, Hinata. I’m not disgusted by any of it. How do you think I felt when I saw you tweet edit after edit after edit of nothing but my face, my plays, my–” Shouyou was sort of glad Kageyama chose not to finish that thought, “what do you think it did to me to see you defend my honor time after time again?” Kageyama said instead. 

He lifted his fingers from Shouyou’s mouth, granting him the chance to speak again. 

“You saw my tweets?” he squeaked. 

Kageyama shook his head as he inhaled a shuddery breath, “you really are a dumbass, aren’t you?”

It threw Shouyou for a loop for only a second. Then, slowly but surely, the pieces started to fall into place. Because when all of it – all the familiar remarks, the lightning quick edits, the random facts he’d memorized – was fitted closely together, they formed a clear picture. 

A picture of Shouyou’s own face, to be exact. 

He remembered the photo well; it was one he’d sent to his friends in one of his first months in Rio. He was wearing the cap Yamaguchi had given him, a white stripe of sunscreen covering his nose, but not quite all the freckles that had started to bloom over his skin. 

It was a picture he had looked at fondly when he had read back the group chat’s messages later on in his journey. One he had seen even more when he logged into twitter. It was one he’d talked to for hours, and hours, and hours until the late flickering of the night claimed him. 

It was one he had never posted online. 

“You,” he said accusingly before catching his tone and lowering his voice, “you’re–”

“Shouyousfreckles,” Kageyama whispered, “yeah.”

Shouyou couldn’t pick his jaw off of the floor. He couldn’t quite breathe. He couldn’t seem to wake up from this dream. Because that had to be what this was, right? A dream? There was absolutely no way this was–

The slight sting of pinched skin threw that thought right out into the garbage. 

“Huh?!” Shouyou gawked, “you– but you– but that’s–”

“– one of the first Hinata Shouyou fan accounts,” Kageyama added helpfully. He at least had the decency to look sort of shy about it. “Yeah, I know.”

“But I talked to Blue – I talked to you,” Shouyou went on.

Kageyama smiled at him, “yeah,” he said, “you did. I can’t believe it’s taken you this long to figure it out.”

Shouyou punched him in the arm. Not maliciously, not really. It was more of a reflex, a way to show Kageyama how he felt without really having to say it. Because to be honest, he wasn’t even sure what to feel. He was confused, he was shocked, he was sort of, slightly, manic. 

His laugh sure sounded like it, anyways.

He finally found the courage to look up at Kageyama again. “You talked to me… about me,” he said, like he still couldn’t quite believe it. 

Kageyama smiled at him again. Shouyou didn’t think he’d ever seen him look cuter than he did right then. Eyes focused on him like he held the answers to the universe in the palm of his hand; long, nimble fingers playing with the hem of his shirt like he had to keep him busy but couldn’t quite make himself reach out to the boy in front of him. 

“Yeah,” he said again (Shouyou was going to have to make him work on his vocabulary soon), “but I didn’t know it was you, at first,” he added softly. 

That piqued Shouyou’s interest. 

“When did you?” he started, before finally flexing his fingers to steady the setter’s nervous twitches, “when did you realize?”

He saw Kageyama’s breath hitch and couldn’t help but smile when the setter threaded their touching fingers together slowly. 

“I didn’t know for a while,” he admitted, “it wasn’t until that night we talked about missing home, I think.”

Realization hit Shouyou like a comet in the night, “I texted you that night, too,” he whispered. Kageyama nodded, “yeah,” he said, “when we talked via twitter I didn’t get any texts but when we texted I didn’t get a dm. And I didn’t really look into it but–”

“But what?” Shouyou pried when Kageyama promptly pressed his mouth into a thin line and looked away. His fingers stayed linked with Shouyou’s, though.  

The setter sighed, “but then I went onto your account and I clicked on your profile picture by accident,” he said, “I recognized it. And I knew for a fact I’d only ever been shown that picture by one person,” his voice was barely a whisper now, “the only person that I knew had it, was the person that took it.”

Shouyou’s mind started spinning when suddenly, Kageyama’s eyes locked onto his again; the intensity of his gaze lighting him up from the outside in. 

“It was you,” Kageyama added softly, “it’s always been you.”

Whether it was Shouyou’s heart that went crazy or his mind he wasn’t sure, but suddenly he took a step closer to his setter; his best friend; the person he loved more than anything in the world. 

Finally he realized, that’s what he saw in those deep blue eyes. It wasn’t disgust, or confusion, or anger. It was love. 

He could almost feel his own breath bounce off of the setter’s skin when he leaned in even closer. If it weren’t for the rapid beating of his heart. 

“Kageyama,” he whispered. 

“Yeah?” Kageyama answered, equally as soft. 

Shouyou could not rip his eyes away from pink, plush lips to watch how the man’s cheeks colored an equally pretty shade of rose. “Can I kiss you?” he breathed, “please?”

Shouyou did not have to wait for his answer. Did not have to wait for his lips to be enveloped in a velvety warmth. Did not have to wait for long, nimble fingers to come up to cup his cheeks. Did not have to wait for a hand to travel to his nape. Did not have to wait for it to run through the short curls there. 

Kageyama was kissing him. 

He was undeniably, irrevocably, enthusiastically kissing him. He was holding onto him like he never wanted to let him go. Like those two years Shouyou had spent away from him were enough for a lifetime. 

And Shouyou clung to him just as tightly. Drew circles on his back like it was the only place he ever wanted to explore. It was as if something inside him had burst and all the repressed affection he felt towards him finally flooded out in waves that crashed them together. 

Slowly at first, but growing more rampant with every brush of lips, with every twist of tongue, with every gasp of surprise. 

Eventually though, they had to pull apart to breathe. An opportunity Shouyou would gladly use to drop his head into the crook of Kageyama’s neck. He kissed the soft skin, moved his head a little to trail even more fluttery kisses across it. 

“Hinata,” Kageyama chuckled. 

Shouyou happily ignored him, kissed the underside of his jaw instead. 

“Hinata,” Kageyama called again. 

Shouyou pretended not to hear, moved his hands so they reached just under the setter’s jersey. He traced featherlight touches over the expanse of skin he found, took great joy in feeling how the muscles tensed up beneath his fingers. 

Kageyama shuddered an exhale before raising his voice, “dammit, Shouyou,” he groaned.

Now that got Shouyou’s attention. Not the breath. Not even how gone Kageyama sounded. No, what hooked him was the use of his given name. He didn’t think he’d ever heard it fall from Kageyama’s lips, nor did he think he’d ever heard a sweeter sound. 

He couldn’t help but smile, “what?” he mumbled. 

It took Kageyama a second to reply when Shouyou started nibbling on the soft dip beneath his clavicle. “We’re in a bathroom,” he laughed eventually. 

Shouyou was off of him in a second, smiling even brighter than he had at the start of the interview. Sure, they were in a bathroom. But wasn’t that where their journey had started in the first place? 

He snorted at his own thoughts, then did it again when he caught Kageyama’s confusion splayed across his face. He didn’t stop himself from leaning in and pecking the frown away. 

He could tell Kageyama was smiling too when he laced their fingers together once more and brought their joined hands to his lips. 

“Let’s go home,” he whispered. And though Shouyou was sure that – technically – Kageyama probably meant the hotel room the JVA had arranged for them to share tonight, he could only think one stupid, sappy thought. 

How could he not when Kageyama wrapped an arm around him and hugged him close to his side. When Shouyou could feel the steady rhythm of his heart. When he was so adamant on studying the beat, engraving it in his mind so he’d know when he made it skip ever so slightly. When he knew it was a sound he wanted to wake up to for however long Kageyama would let him listen. 

Shouyou was already home.