Category: Uncategorized

One day, Kageyama snaps. 

Hinata stares at him when he tears his hand out of those warm fingers. When Kageyama stumbles back and slides down the wall of the locker room, shaking, blood rushing in his veins, and watches the harsh imprint of his own grip on Hinata’s hand go an angry crimson. “Why,” his voice is a mess, it always is after his outburst of aggression, this hopeless coping mechanism he still uses when things become overwhelming or he fucking fails in training, when he makes mistakes and people are too much, when he has to run and hide, when Hinata is still there even though he yells and is terrible, no friends, nobody wants him. 

“Why are you doing this? You – you’re always there when I’m like this, when I h-hold you too tightly and hurt you – I don’t want to hurt you, but you keep coming after me and you even h-hug me when I cry. This isn’t… I don’t understand. God, explain it to me, Hinata. Why’re you here when I’m like this? I’m so – so angry, and I can’t – they’re all too much and I k-know they hate me, like my old team, but you. You… are here.” The sob tearing out of his throat is a wild animal, hurt and howling into the silence. He chokes. “Tell me why.”

And Hinata smiles at him with sorrow so deep and warm that Kageyama’s lungs and fucking throat and all of his scarred, dark-splattered insides rip apart.

“You really know nothing about love, Tobio.”

“Spock, I have a theory. Hear me out. I know why you hate being touched.” 

“I had assumed that you were aware of Vulcans being touch-telepaths, Captain.”

“Nah, that’s not what I mean. This is much more fun. Also, you let me touch you if it’s just your shoulder or arm or something. I thought about it, and I know why.”

“Do you? Enlighten me, then, as you seem to be an expert on Vulcan – “ 

“You’re ticklish.” 

“…that is by far the most illogical thing you have uttered all day. Fascinating.”

“And I can prove it. C’mere, lemme just – “ 

“Captain, cease doing this immediately. I forbid you to – take your fingers off my ears this instant. Jim, if you do not – “ 

“Aww, you’re fidgeting, that’s kinda cute – wait. What was that?! …Spock?”

“…c-cease touching me this instant.” 

“Spock, did you just purr?” 

“I did no such thing. If you would excuse me – Jim, do not – Jim.”

“Wow. I had no idea Vulcans like to be pet like this. Do that noise again – aww.”

“We do not. This is an exception since you are the one touching me.” 

“Wait. D’you mean you only purr for me? Don’t just go! Hey, Spock!” 

“This conversation is over.” 

“Uh-huh, sure. You know, you were adorable just now. Hey, wait for me!”

“But I should be dead,” Hajime coughs through the soot and dark smoke in his lungs when Tooru pulls him out of the ruins of his burnt house and lays him down next to his unconscious parents and sister. He laters learns that it was a short circuit in the power lines that almost killed them all. Tooru’s skin doesn’t carry a single burn, his eyes alight and blazing like the flames. 

“Yet you aren’t dead,” Tooru whispers into his ear before Hajime faints, and when the police and firefighters arrive, they find a burning house and the rescued family lying in front of it. Alive. All of them. Hajime’s arm is burnt and he lives. 

“But this is impossible,” Hajime whispers against Tooru’s pale skin as he watches the black lines crawl over it, ink-dark tattoos coiling over his boyfriend’s skin as if they were alive, symboles and runes and ancient power pulsing through Tooru’s smile. 

“Yet it is real,” Tooru mumbles into their kiss and pulls Hajime deeper into himself, throwing his head back with a howl as he lets himself be devoured, kissed, heat and sparks tingling down Hajime’s spine, thighs around his waist.

“But you are human,” Hajime says when he and Tooru are in the forest at night and Tooru dances for him, midnight-black smoke and silver sparks flowing around him like water, spinning, spiralling, framing his naked body. 

“Yet I am not,” Tooru says, and smiles. “And yet you love me, and I, you.” 

“But what are you?” Hajime asks into the softness of his mouth. 

“If it would matter, Haji, you would not be here. And you would not kiss me.”

So Hajime takes what once was impossible, and closes his heart around it. 

“Why do you still care?” 

Hajime is silent. His fingers brush white ointment onto Tooru’s split lip. His soft skin bleeds red. 

“Because someone has to?” Tooru asks, rough. “Is it a chore to care for me?”

Hajime pulls the bloody shirt over Tooru’s head. He stuffs him into one of his own sweaters, fingers shaking in rage and fear and why-couldn’t-I-protect-you. Because Tooru doesn’t let him, that’s why. Hajime wants to bite that fake smile off his pretty red lips. 

“Stop. Just – god, stop. ‘m not worth it. You’re wasting your time. Hajime, stop.” 

And he takes Tooru’s bruised knuckles and leans them against his forehead. It takes minutes to find his voice, a scared little thing in the back of his throat. When he speaks, it’s a sentence that’s twelve years old, and finally falls out. 

“You’re worth it, idiot. All of if. You’ve always been worth it. Shit, you – you go and get into fights or hook up with people just to, what – feel something?” Hajime breathes. Tooru is quiet, stares at him, and he’s so beautiful in Hajime’s old sweater and with a hint of a blush on his cheeks that Hajime’s heart breaks. 

He swallows, and kisses the soft space between Tooru’s knuckles. “Let me make you feel. Just once, let me try, ‘kay? I’ll do anything. Just lemme keep you safe. Can’t stand seeing you bleed.” 

For a long time, Tooru’s breath is the only noise. Then, something drips onto Hajime’s hand. “Okay.” Tooru says, voice tiny. “Okay, Hajime.” And he cries.

Bokuto calls Akaashi “baby” or “little owl” when they’re alone. Akaashi protests, refuses, tries to hate the nicknames.
He can’t.
It’s something from Bokuto that belongs to Akaashi alone. Maybe that’s why he can’t let go, why he lets Bokuto whispers the names into his hair and lips and lets him light soft flames underneath his skin.

Hinata already knows that he’s going to cry when Kageyama slaps the food out of his hand. 

It hurts when knuckles collide against his palm, and the sweet-filled bun tumbles to the ground, dropping right into a dirty puddle by his feet. Kageyama stares. Hinata opens his mouth, tries not to tear up, wants to understand why Kageyama is being so mean – yes, he’s always rough with him, but never like this. He’s never actually hurt Hinata. His palm is a little red. He swallows. 

And then, there are tears on his cheeks, dripping silently. 

“I’m sorry.” Kageyama’s voice trembles. He reaches out for Hinata’s mouth, but Hinata flinches and stumbles back. “Did you eat any?” Kageyama wants to know, steps forward, grabs his collar. “Tell me. Did you eat it? How much?” 

Hinata doesn’t understand. He shakes his head, makes a soft whimper in the back of his throat. “N-nothin’. Wanted to share w-with you.” There’s a hiccup rising in his chest, he wraps both arms around himself. “Why would you – “ 

Then, Kageyama picks up the bun and shows Hinata the wrapping. “It’s strawberry, you idiot. The filling. It’s pink and it’s strawberry. You’re allergic.” 

Oh. Hinata sniffles. He tries to stop crying, but it doesn’t work. “Th… thanks.” 

Kageyama throws the bun away and reaches out, but hesitates. “I’m sorry. Fuck.” He bites his lip. “I’ll buy you another one. I didn’t wanna hit you. I’m so sorry.” Hinata waits for the touch, but Kageyama goes rigid. “Hinata, I’m sorry – “

But Hinata nods, finally, and drops his head against Kageyama’s chest, nuzzling so long until shaking fingers gently touch his hair. “It’s okay. I literally forgot. If I didn’t have you – why did you even remember that, and when did I tell you – “ 

“Let’s go already. I’ll buy you a new one, I said.” The blush on Kageyama’s cheeks suits him, Hinata decides. He grins and laces their fingers up. “Okay.”

spockfucker:

i know i said that i wouldn’t draw any more hot rebel spock comics but i lied :T ngl i just wanted to draw spock smoking and kirk being super cute

I am so in love with this. So much. Everything about this is gorgeous and wonderful and I keep re-reading this comic far too often.