Hinata breaks his right arm in a bike accident. He still insists on partaking in training, but he can’t swing both arms as usual and has to spike with his left. Kageyama has to re-learn the timing of his tosses. When Hinata apologizes to him in tears, Kageyama just ruffles his hair.
“Idiot, don’t worry. I make you invincible, remember? With me, you’ll always fly – even if I have to get you a new pair of wings.”
Iwaizumi Hajime / Oikawa Tooru.
Rating: General Audiences
Characters: Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, Sugawara Koushi, Sawamura Daichi
Tags: Alternate Universe – College/University, Brief Mention of Blood, no character death or serious injuries, Fluff, Angst, Getting Together, Fluff and Angst, Mental Instability, Mental Breakdown, Hurt/Comfort
Chapters: 1/1 (complete)
Words: 5,457
Summary:
Graduation ends, college begins, and Hajime lives through a kaleidoscope of moments with Oikawa. They’re still teammates, friends, and now roommates, even as the world changes and old memories transform into something else, new and confusing and breathtaking.
Tooru, his heart whispers.
Iwaizumi has a secret skill that only Oikawa knows about. His mom’s famous bentos (individually prepared for every athlete’s personal needs and preferences) aren’t actually made by her.
When Oikawa swears to volleyball and his ability to serve that he won’t tell a soul, Iwaizumi lets him help one morning. Oikawa watches the skillful, efficient work of his fingers, how Iwaizumi picks colours and tastes and flattens the rice into the containers with sticky fingers.
Oikawa ends up not helping at all. Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to mind, and once they’re done, he makes Oikawa carry the bag of bentos in one hand, grabbing the other with his sticky fingers that still smell like vinegar and soy sauce.
Kageyama is still unsure whether things wouldn’t have cannonballed into hell and beyond if he’d decided to not attend the usual team sleepover at Tanaka’s house for once.
In the end, he still goes, and that’s how everything turns from perfectly normal to absolutely and definitely not okay.
Because Hinata greets him with the brightest smile and an enthusiastic wave of his small hand, eyes glowing with the colours of Kageyama’s favourite sunrise – which isn’t out of the ordinary, but something else catches Kageyama’s attention. He freezes, and stares.
Hinata is wearing a skirt.
It’s a pretty one, black with red and white flowers, and those little curves at the lower rim that Kageyama’s short-circuiting brain can’t remember the name for. He feels Suga slam his elbow into his ribs, painfully hard, and the air knocks out of his lungs. “Don’t you dare say something mean,” Suga whispers. Kageyama doesn’t understand. How could he be mean when Hinata looks so – so –
“Shit, you’re really pretty.”
Hinata stares back at him. Suga makes a choked noise in the back of his throat. Asahi squeaks, Noya and Tanaka blink in absolute paralysed confusion, and Kageyama wishes himself to someplace very cold and very, very lonely.
“Thanks,” Hinata says. Kageyama hates how his voice is so cute when he’s nervous, how a dark blush crawls onto his cheeks and his soft neck. He wants to kiss him.
“You should wear them more often,” Kageyama hears himself say. Oh God, he thinks right after, shit. Fuck. Holy shit, no. Why is he so dumb.
“Okay.” And Hinata smiles, pulls him onto the couch, and loudly demands that he’s getting the first pick on a movie for the night.
In the end, Hinata holds his hand while they all stare at the tv screen, and his naked foot may or may not have touched Kageyama’s socked toes here and there. Maybe he imagined it. But he sure didn’t imagine the way Hinata leaned against him, and quietly mumbled: “I’m glad you like it. I’ll wear them more often for you.”
And maybe, hell isn’t too bad, Kageyama thinks. If hell is Hinata curling on his lap while falling asleep and asking his opinion while buying a soft pink skirt the next day, then Kageyama would give up any heaven for another minute with that bundle of sunshine and joy.
Kuroo finds him on the balcony. He stares at the stars, fingertips tiny and ice-cold, and he’s so beautiful even when he hurts so badly. Kuroo doesn’t move. He drinks Kenma in, the softness of his tears, the warm sound that his mouth makes when it opens into a symphony of syllables that turn into Kuroo’s name.
“Tetsurou.”
And Kuroo’s body says yes. He walks over, sits, melts into Kenma through a trembling embrace that echoes into the broken core of his bones. Kenma’s lips are incandescence, and they’re worth all the prayers that Kuroo’s never dared to speak, all the holy adoration he wants to pour over Kenma’s glowing soul like gold, gold, gold.
“Can you stay tonight?”
His hands are tiny. Kuroo’s lips fit into the valleys of their ivory knuckles like someone carved him to be Kenma’s, and his alone.
“Yes. And the night after, and the night after.”
Kenma curls into the warmth of his arms – and stills, heart beating, and his eyes alight.
a bit of older!kagehina nsfw. they’re in university, 20/21 years old, and kageyama shows hinata something a bit better than kissing.
nsfw. blowjobs, established relationship.
“Get a room,” Tsukishima had told them when Kageyama had first kissed Hinata after they’d won against Shiratorizawa, tears in all of their eyes and sweat dripping from their burning hands and purple-bruised arms.
Now, they had a room. They also had a bed they slept in, which was convenient if you were a couple that attended the same university volleyball team and had also just discovered that there were even better things than kissing your boyfriend against a wall until you were both hard and panting desperately.
Far better things, Hinata thought when Kageyama unlocked their dorm room and pulled him inside, stumbling towards the bed with Hinata’s smaller hand tight and warm in his own.
“Let me try something, okay?” Kageyama said, and then, low and dark, “trust me”, before he pressed Hinata onto the bed, one hand carefully protecting the back of his head from hitting the pillow too hard. Because he was an idiot and insecure and wonderful, Hinata thought. His idiot.
“Okay,” he said. “Yeah, okay. Is – is it gonna hurt?”
“No! No, oh God, no, I won’t – not that, you dumbass. Just – let me. It’s gonna be good, promise.” Kageyama’s forehead dropped down to meet Hinata’s, his breath soft against Hinata’s trembling mouth as Kageyama framed his face with long, rough fingers.
And he’d keep his promise, Hinata found out a few moments later, after whispering “I love you”, and nodding, cheeks red and chest tight. God, Kageyama hadn’t promised too much.
Kageyama took his sweet time undressing Hinata. His hands where everywhere, sliding over Hinata’s burning skin with an adoration that had him sigh, his back arching, toes curling into the bed sheets when Kageyama’s mouth closed over his pulse, teeth scraping gently where his blood flooded and circulated. “Ka – Kage – T-tobio,” Hinata made a dark noise in the back of his raw throat, something that sounded strange, almost foreign, and Kageyama’s rough, bruised fingers slipped underneath the waistband of his boxers.
“Tell me if you want me to st- “
Hinata grabbed his hair and kissed him, kissed him hard and desperate until Tobio was breathless and cursing into his lips, mumbling “f-fuck” and “shit, you’re so – love you, fuck, you’re so damn beautiful” against the hot breath of Hinata’s mouth. His vision blurred, everything was on fire, liquid metal sizzling on his skin where Kageyama touched him, not just kissing and grinding his body against Kageyama’s thigh – it was more, more, oh God – Hinata never wanted him to stop. Kageyama’s lips were red and wet in the dim light when they parted from the kiss for a moment, his shadow darkening Hinata’s vision, eyes wide, oceans of blue and pitch-black.
Kageyama didn’t know that he was the beautiful one, the miracle, that Hinata was lucky for being loved by him. Not the other way around.
“Shouyou,” Kageyama whispered, his hand pushing down Hinata’s boxers, waiting for one shy moment – God, he was perfect – and then gently, carefully pressing the heel of his palm between Hinata’s shaking thighs.
Shit, he loved him so much it hurt.
“Tobio – please, I – yes. Yes.”
Kageyama laughed against his lips, quiet, his voice bubbling warm and golden and echoing through Hinata’s veins. “’f course, anythin’ you want. You look s-so good like that, do you know that? No, dumbass, don’t hide your face!”
But Hinata still did, pressing his nose into Kageyama’s neck for a second, and the rough hand slid around his cock, thumbing at the wet slit, pressing –
“Ah! You’re unfair, that’s – “
“Then kiss me again, stupid, if you don’t want me to stare.” Nobody but Kageyama could make an insult sound like a love confession. Hinata threw his head back and groaned, and then he grinned back at his boyfriend. “Alright.”
He buried his hands in Kageyama’s hair, licked at his trembling mouth, and when Kageyama’s words died in a hitching breath and a muffled swear, Hinata giggled and let his tongue speak. The air in his lungs tasted like musk and salt, like Kageyama – no, like Tobio, the heavy body sliding against his own as if they’d been born as one and cracked apart, only to fit each other’s arms so perfectly all over again.
Kageyama’s lips were suddenly gone, and Hinata’s hands slipped out of his hair. A warm mouth traced over his stomach, kissing along his hipsbones, and every touch was better than anything they’d ever done. Hinata had wanted to go further for some time, but things had always been slow between them, and there was no need to hurry. They had all of their life together, if Hinata could decide that on his own –
Oh.
“To- Tobio – “
Kageyama’s mouth slid over the head of his hard cock, tongue flat and so goddamn hot against the underside, and Kageyama settled between Hinata’s legs with a dark huff.
“Holy sh-shit.”
Hinata couldn’t breathe, his toes curled, hips jerking off the bed with a loud whine coming from his mouth – but Kageyama was so patient, sucked him deeper, rough hands pressing Hinata back down before that perfect mouth went tight and impossibly wet, and Kageyama hummed softly around his cock, a noise that echoed all the way into Hinata’s bones. His throat made a strange sound, a whimper so vulnerable and needy that Hinata didn’t even recognise himself anymore, but it didn’t matter – nothing was important anymore.
Then Kageyama let go of him, and rested his warm mouth in the soft curls of hair over Hinata’s cock, hands still holding him down on the bed. Hinata felt his eyes roll back when Kageyama breathed gently against his cock, cold air burning on his skin, and he was so fucking sensitive, he was going to come any moment. Hinata groaned desperately, and his legs slid around Kageyama’s neck, thighs falling open and ready just for him, for him. Everything else lost its meaning, and Hinata’s senses screamed, he needed to be touched, had to feel Kageyama against his chest until he was bursting, exploding into words that could tell him how – how much he loved him.
“Shit,” Kageyama said, and his mouth shivered just above Hinata’s hipbone, teeth digging into his skin to leave a dark bitemark. That was it, that was all Hinata needed, and just – just before he could come, Kageyama backed away once more, that idiot, and grinned at Hinata like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?” What a tease, Hinata cursed quietly, and when Kageyama licked at the head of his cock and grabbed the base, flicking his wrist, Hinata’s thighs trembled violently, and he whimpered.
“Oh my God, please, please – sh-shit, do – do something.”
His head roared, the world a blur of smudged colours and Kageyama’s heavy breath, sweet lips dragging so slowly over Hinata’s length, mouth sliding off for just a moment. Hinata dared to lift his head, fingers buried in the sheets. And – fuck.
Kageyama stared right at him, and just when Hinata caught his eyes, he fucking grinned – dark hair falling over forehead, lips shining with spit and Hinata’s precome -, and dragged his tongue all the way over his aching, hard cock, sucking Hinata back into the soft heat of his mouth with a loud moan.
It was like unravelling, dissolving into roaring heat pulsing through his veins, his body going rigid, bucking under the rough touch of Kageyama’s hands, his slick mouth, that tongue sliding over Hinata’s cock and licking up his thick come, swallowing with a shift of pale skin over Kageyama’s throat. His blood coiled and shifted, everything new and wild, and Hinata heard his own loud sob echo through the room when he came hard – arching off the bed, thighs falling aside, hips pushing forward against that heavenly mouth that cared for him so well.
Kageyama caught him, as if he knew exactly what Hinata needed, and maybe he did. He pulled the blanket over them when Hinata sank back into the sheets, boneless and soft, his muscles aching from the strain of following Kageyama’s movements. His mouth was dry and somehow heavy, everything around him looked softer, warmer, bright around the edges.
“Are – are you okay? Shouyou?”
“Mhm. Nghhh.” He groaned, turned his head towards the source of heat sliding next to his body, and buried himself into Kageyama’s chest. Hinata took a deep breath and kissed him then, right onto that spot where he could heard Kageyama’s heart thunder inside his ribcage. Kageyama swallowed above him. His hand fit between Hinata’s shoulder blades like it had been made to lie there, on the curve of his spine, protective and gentle.
“Was that a yes? Did I – did I do this right? Shit, if I hurt you – “
“MrghhhohmyGod, shut up.”
Kageyama grinned against his hair, kissed his forehead once more. Hinata closed his eyes and refused to say anything else that wasn’t strange noises, and tangled his legs up with Kageyama’s. He was sleepy now, his bones heavy and his chest filled with warm gold, and a memory of how Kageyama had looked at him like he was beautiful.
“I’ll take that as ‘yes, everything was alright’,” Kageyama whispered against his forehead.
And Hinata nodded, and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s chest, holding onto him as tightly as he could before falling asleep.
The first thing Kageyama thinks about Hinata is: “Damn, he’s fast.” And then, right afterwards, “his hair looks like sunshine.”
A few years later, they’re on the same team, Hinata’s small soft fingers spike his toss, and Kageyama thinks: “Shit, he’s cute.”
They win nationals. Hinata flies into his arms, clinging to him with his whole body, tears and laughter on his warm cheeks, and Kageyama thinks: “Fuck, I want to kiss him.”
The morning they carry the last boxes into their dorm room at the university, Hinata wears one of Kageyama’s far-too-big shirts, and his lips are soft and sweet on Kageyama’s when he kisses him on the bed they’re now going to share, where they squeeze to lie down between two volleyballs and Hinata’s favourite pillow.
And Kageyama thinks: “Holy shit, how do I deserve to love him, fuck – fuck.”
Hinata just smiles, and kisses him some more until Kageyama stops thinking.
“Could you come over this afternoon? We need to talk.”
And just like that, Daichi had turned Suga’s bright school morning into an anxious hell of ‘oh god he found out that I’ve loved him ever since he walked into my life like all I never knew I needed’. Suga spent the day by not eating anything, thinking about everything he’d said to Daichin within the last few weeks and playing so horribly in practice that coach Ukai put him on the bench.
But there was no way around it, and so Suga went over to Daichi’s place right after school, his chest so tight and dark that it hurt deep into his heart. Daichi’s mother let him in with a soft smile that looked like she knew too much about something, and Suga hurried up the stairs, taking a last deep breath before opening the door.
I’m hurting, baby, I’m broken down
I need your loving, loving, I need it now
Suga hadn’t know that Daichi could play guitar, and he had much less known about the fact that his crush had a rich, warm voice that sounded so goddamn perfect in English that Suga couldn’t do anything but lean back against the door -and stare.
When I’m without you, I’m something weak
You got me begging, begging, I’m on my knees
He knew that song. Oh God, that was – Sugar. It was called Sugar, and his cheeks were heating up, bursting into fire, his knees giving in so he sunk down against the door. Suga swallowed and dropped his bag so he could bring both hands to cover his mouth, and then he stared some more at Daichi’s long fingers thrumming the guitar, his soft voice singing its way right into Suga’s heart, where the rest of his stupid everything already loved Daichi more than he could say.
Your sugar
Yes, please
Won’t you come and put it down on me
I’m right here, ‘cause I need little love and little sympathy
When Daichi hummed the last note and looked up at Suga, the soft smile on his lips immediately faded. “Oh God, was I that bad? I’m – I’m sorry – “
“You are an idiot,” Suga said, grinning like an idiot, and didn’t bother to wipe the tears off his cheeks when he stumbled over to Daichi and caught his lips in a kiss. “You could’ve – could’ve said somethin’, God, I l-love you.”
Daichi’s eyes glowed when he pulled Suga closer, and kissed him again. “I’m sorry, sugar. I guess I didn’t know how to tell you other than – well, this. And I love you, too.”
The guitar made a sad, dissonant squeak when it was kicked off the bed, and Suga allowed Daichi to find out just how sweet his lips were, over and over again.
“Kuroo?”
“Hm?”
“Do you think you could be together with someone who’s still a virgin?”
“I – what?” What the hell.
On the scale of things that could surprise Tetsurou Kuroo, the first place of “Lev bottoms for Yaku and is actually embarrassed about any public affection past holding hands” had just been replaced by the soft-spoken, monotone questions from Kenma’s lips.
Kenma was seemingly waiting for a reply, and when Tetsurou simply stared at him with wide, stunned eyes, silent and rigid, the setter shrunk down a bit.
“Because – I think – I think I like someone, but I don’t know what he’d think when I tell him that, you know.“ Kenma’s cheeks were a gorgeous, endearing shade of deep red, and he was carrying his head low, golden strands of hair touching his jaw, the sharp line that Tetsurou wanted to kiss.
“If he would… wait. Until I’m ready.”
Ah, Tetsurou thought, and then, what? Who is that guy? Am I going to have to beat him up, what’s his name and address and why, why him, what does he have that I don’t?
“Yeah,” is what he said out loud, “’course. I’d wait forever, that’s just – I’d wait forever for you, I’d give you all the time, you deserve the best. Fuck, what an asshole is that guy, did he tell you that you need to have sex? I’m gonna beat him up, just wait ‘till I called Kotarou, we’re gonna rip him apart – “
His mind snapped back to reality when Kenma’s soft, warm lips touched his cheek, small hands clinging to his shoulders. “Thank you, that’s all I needed to know,” Kenma said, and Tetsurou thought ‘fuck’. He’d just talked out loud, he’d confessed his stupid soul to Kenma, years of friendship ruined – oh. What?
“Come on, we’ll be late.” And then there was a tinier hand inside his own, Kenma’s head leaning against his arm for a moment, shaking fingers clinging to his palm. Tetsurou blinked, looked down, catching the shy nervousity in Kenma’s eyes – and finally, he grinned.
“You could’ve said something. Kitten,” and even though Kenma twitched at the pet name, it still earned Tetsurou another kiss on the cheek, and the small hand still rested inside his own when they entered the gym.
For their first official date, Suga and Daichi decide to just stay home and make dinner. Suga ends up cooking, and the food is absolutely delicious. When Daichi tries it out, he goes very silent, his dark eyes widening, and Suga feels his heart stop. He asks if it tastes that bad.
And Daichi blurts out, cheeks red like the strawberry dessert Suga made: “God, I want to marry you so much right now.”
The rest of the evening is awkwardly quiet, but it’s also kind of good, because Suga finally dares to hold his hand while they watch some movie, nestled against Daichi’s side. Suga doesn’t say a word when Daichi buries his nose in his hair, and when gentle fingers trace along his wrist, so shy, as if he’s fragile.
And when Daichi leaves, Suga kisses him with soft lips that taste like strawberries.
Moami 