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Kenma is similar to a cat in many ways. When expressing curiosity and gentle interest, a cat would curl the tip of its tail in a questioning way, maybe brushing along the legs of a person it intends to befriend, accompanied by a soft nudge of its head against its new friend’s calf. 

Kenma however curls the tips of his fingers around Kuroo’s wrist instead, burying his head into the curve of his warm chest, and wiggles softly until the desired arm of his friend wraps around his waist. 

And only as Kuroo rests his chin on top of Kenma’s head and pets his hair with infinite reverence, Kenma slowly closes his eyes and blinks at his friend – wordless, but saying more than any language could tell in a thousand books. 

‘I couldn’t love him any more than this,’ Hajime thinks and watches Tooru’s smile bring an iridescent glow to his face, head falling back as he laughs into the sunset over the ocean, where Iwa could touch his hand but doesn’t because they’re only on vacation and not lovers. I couldn’t love him any more than this.

But he does, when Tooru’s lips kiss another girl. 

But he does, when his fingers hold Tooru’s hair back while he throws up the alcohol, a red imprint of lipstick on his neck, bruises from teeth, hickeys. 

But he does, when one guy takes it too far and tries to do things to Tooru that have Hajime’s eyes go red, red, red, blood on the man’s mouth and him and Tooru at a police station, a pale hand of his best friend clutching his shirt. 

But he does, in secret and with swallowed sobs, when he’s awake at night and Tooru sleeps, curled up in his bed, because he sleeps better like this and Hajime lets him. 

But he does, when a girl asks Hajime out and Tooru goes quiet, darkness in his voice when he tries to smile and Hajime finally, finally sees the lies that they’ve been telling each other to hide black jealousy and golden, burning affection. 

Hajime loves him more than this, every day, when Tooru’s bruises are long gone and he still sleeps in Hajime’s bed, but with a hand on his softly beating heart and a smiling mouth against his neck. 

Finding out that he’s gay isn’t what makes Kageyama uncomfortable about his current situation. He has arranged himself with this new fact quickly, especially after he’d remembered how Daichi and Suga had explained their relationship to the team, and the gentle way in which their fingers laced up. So luckily, Kageyama had more or less easily accepted that he likes men. 

The problem isn’t that he likes men. He likes only one. Singular, not plural. Just a single man – well, not even a man. It’s a boy. 

Hinata is infuriating and annoying and wild and beautiful, and all that Kageyama never knew he wanted until those amber-bright eyes shine at him like he’s the sun, and not a lonely and corrupted supernova anymore. 

It’s horrible. Hinata’s casual touches light fire on his skin, the way he laughs at others has Kageyama’s lips go thin in jealousy, and one day he can’t take it any longer. He doesn’t like men, he likes Hinata, and that’s why he – confesses.

“I think I am homosexual for you.” 

They’re the last ones in the locker room. Hinata stares at him through the hole of the shirt he’s been trying to pull over his head, frozen into place. Kageyama’s fists are tight against his thighs, he sits on the bench by Hinata’s side. Stares down, waits, is afraid and sorry and opens his mouth to apologize for how he is –

“Jeez, you’re terrible at confessing.” Hinata finally pulls his shirt down. Kageyama’s head flicks up to him, crimson on his cheeks and “fucking dumbass” on his lips, but then Hinata is close, leaning over him, and Kageyama’s mouth goes dry and empty. 

“Glad you finally did it, though.” Hinata’s face is just as warm as Kageyama’s own feels. His fingers trace along Kageyama’s jaw, shaking, and he blinks when he feels that Hinata is actually… nervous. “So,” his mouth manages, “are you – ?”

Hinata’s answer is a press of soft lips against Kageyama’s. “God, stop talking, you are so much cuter when you shut up – mhm.” 

Kageyama is so goddamn happy to obey, for once, and finds that Hinata can light fire not only on his skin, but all the way down his chest and into his heart.