#hq.

“Don’t go out with him.” He says, You sigh.

“It’s 2 hours before the date I can’t cancel it.’ You explain.  

You’ve had to explain yourself to him every hour until your date. A part of you is exasperated and the other is fond. You’ve known Kageyama Tobio all your life, maybe even longer. You’ve been by each other's sides through it all, even when he went to Karasuno instead of Aoba Johsai like he said he would. Maybe the reason he’s always at the throat of potential partners is due to the nature of your friendship you both have developed. You’ve been at every game, every airport departure and landing that you could be at. You’ve made him breakfast for his first game every season and dinner every evening of the last game of the season since middle school: pork cutlet with an egg for him, miso soup with as much tofu and nori as you can fit into the pot, with bowls of rice for you.

A part of you wonders what it is about Tobio that has earned your unwavering devotion in terms and conditions of your friendship but you have yet to find the answer. Or rather the answer you want to face. You already know that you have been in love with Tobio for as long as university, maybe even before that.

That wasn't the problem. The problem was that Kageyama has more balls than brains and has never once been moved, shaken, or touched by any aspect of love or flirtation and as such you have no idea what he looks like when he is interested. So even if there is a possibility, an iota, and inkling of the idea that Kageyama Tobio returns your feelings that are rooted, stemmed, and bloomed for the better part of your life - you’d have no way to know.

When you can't achieve greatness you settle for mediocrity. Which has led you through relationships of the same standards you’ve chased - dull and non-inspirational; just anything to rid deep navy eyes from your mind for even more than a minute. A simple-minded push and pull. 

Like ocean waves lapping at your ankles.

They were short-lived and pretty packaged distractions, all of which have led you back to the dark-haired blue eyed monster you were running from. You wonder if this is some sort of punishment for a previous life’s sins. Doomed to love never to be loved.

Tobio has had it with you, he swears as he watches you float around the corner to the corner of your apartment, starting to get ready for your accursed date. His dark brow and almost pouted mouth tell all one needs to know about how he feels the direction that your night will take and he's soured at how honest you make him. He always prided himself on his ability to keep it cool through all aspects of his life, when pushed into a corner during a game or squeezing the last bit of tutoring you gave him for an exam during finals but he hates, no loathes how you make him frown and scoff and roll his eyes so easily as if he’s like Atsumu who rarely hides his displeasure.

Tobio throughout all his life can name only a few things that made him truly and deeply happy - volleyball, grilled meat, milk, and most importantly you. He remembered the joy he felt on that winter morning in his chest when he saw your face, frosty and rosy from the cold in the stands cheering him each year at nationals no matter what. That joy has endured the scorching heat of your arguments and the freezing cold of your time apart. You are the cornerstone of his life, his own North Star in every sense of the word. That's why he thinks he drank your milk (which you still hate) at lunch when you were 6 so you could go play with him. And why he’s kept every note, letter, and shitty valentine card you’ve made him - you always gave him a card on Valentine's and he always got you matcha ice cream for White Day because you don’t like chocolate that much.

Tobio has known he’s loved you all his life, he has so many unimportant but unshareable moments with you he doesn’t think he could have this with someone else. He watches you tuck your hair behind your ear and he thinks about the time you stayed late at his place studying for finals. A cheap, canned matcha latte and a milk carton from a vending machine drip condescension onto the small table and you reach back, tucking a lock of hair from under your glasses behind your ear and Tobio stares and falls harder than he did before. He's patting his knee the day after your middle school graduation, cherry blossom petals stuck to your shoe and he still bows down to tie it for you. A week ago, he walked behind you on some stairs and tugged down your skirt, the back of his knuckles meeting the gap between your thighs and knees.

He would spend the rest of his night staring at the ridges of bone and skin that touched you so sweetly in awe - he didn’t think he was capable of handling something so carefully.

The clock in your kitchen tolls 7:30 and he glares at it like it’s his mortal enemy as if it’s to blame for the fact that the weird song and dance you two have spent your entire life performing is going off script, that he has to give you away, that someone who wants to cut your and his’s dance, It makes him feel vile and sick.

You appear in front of him, a vision and more dressed in black, carefully matching clothes that brings out the best of your features and he smells your perfume - something sweet but dark. Fiddling with your earring you spin and turn in front of him and all you are met with is a blank stare.

“You should cancel with him.” He repeats himself and your shoulders sag, you sigh and he can hear your own note to self; don’t ask Tobio for outfit opinions. Your berry-colored lips pout at him in the way they’ve always had since you were 7.

“I’m not canceling Tobio so tell me if I look good or not.” You almost whine out and a part of Tobio purrs at how he makes you act so honestly - it seems you both bring out that quality in each other. He shakes his head, he can feel his fringe tickling his forehead in the movement.

“You look beautiful - you always do. Why do you even bother? You’re gonna go and then come back, never text him back and talk about how he’s boring.” He rattles off the pattern that he’s seen you go through at least 3 times this month, and the pattern you’ve gone through before. You swallow and wet your lips, eyes meeting his before you look away.

‘You’ve never been able to look people in the eyes when you admit to something.’

“Does my unsuccessful love life annoy you? I know it’s not the most exciting one out of all your friends.” You deflect with a joke and you look up at him from the corner of your eyes and let your fingers tuck into the pockets of your coat. His face sours,

“It’s not that. It’s annoying how you settle for so little when you deserve better.” His tongue burns at his words, desperate to say what he’s wanted to say to you for so long. “Me. Choose me.”

“Yeah? What is it that I deserve? I’m lonely and I’m just trying to find someone to love - someone to love me. What is it to you? I don’t think you’ve ever liked anyone before.” You’re voice trembles at the end and his shoulders drop. His frown slackens and he sighs through his nose.

“You deserve someone who knows you and actually tries to. Not some random guy who’s planning on taking you to that Italian restaurant you hate.” You snort at the last bit - he’s right. The man who you were going out with tonight insisted on taking you to a restaurant you hated in the part of the city you hated - the food wasn’t good and traffic around there is horrible and it’s a long walk from the subway and -

“And you were wrong about something. I do like someone, I’ve liked them for a long time.” Your smile fades and you push his shoulder, the air shifts and you almost look angry at him,

“And you never told me? You asshole.” You practically hiss at him and his shoulder takes the brunt of your weak slap. He shrugs and cocks his head to the side.

“I could never tell her, life often got in the way and she’s always going on boring dates - she’s even going on one right now.” You pause as his words - sarcastic words sink into your brain and you have half a mind to slap Tsukishima for teaching him sarcasm.

“What, what do you mean by that.” You ask but you mean like a sentence and Tobio knows, he knows that because he’s loved you all the years in his life he didn’t have a soft, squishy head. His hands clench at his side as the words that burn on his tongue finally spark and ignite.

“You, I like you. To be honest I think I’ve loved you since we were toddlers.” He speaks and it feels true and you don’t know how to respond. Your brain is split down the middle both half angry and half glad. Tears sting your eyes and they burn because you line your waterline and you don’t want to smudge so you begin to shake him - well try to shake the 6 ft, professional volleyball player, before you.

“You are such a jerk! Why are you confessing to me right now when I’m going on a date?” You hiss at him and he snorts at your defensiveness before taking your hands in his and you come to a complete stop as you process how his hands fit around yours.

Perfectly.

“Because I am a jerk and I have more balls than brains, remember?” He teases you and you bite into your lip to stop from either laughing or crying.

“I don’t know why I never told you, our lives moved so fast it never felt like I could. You with your career and me with mine. We were always apart, always going our separate ways.” He tells you and you know he has a point but love makes you bratty and snot-nosed.

“So, I would have stayed if you told me sooner.” You whine and he shakes his head and this is the first you see Kageyama Tobio smile soft and gentle and you almost feel your brain melt out your ears at much of a man he looks now.

“Then you wouldn’t have done all the things you wanted to do abroad. It wouldn’t be fair.” Your tears are running now and your face feels hot and you’re sure you look like a crying 5-year-old and not like the put-together 20-something-year-old you were trying to look like not even 10 minutes ago. You feel his hand come up to your face and swipe at your cheek with his thumb and you whine at how your makeup is running.

“When did you become such a crybaby? I thought university would mellow you out. The last time you cried like this was when we watched that Pokemon movie together when we were 15.” His hand is pushed away from you and he hides the fondness on his face poorly - you look like a raccoon, with rings of black around your eyes.

“Shut up - you’re so stupid Tobio. I hate your guts.” You say and don’t mean it. He knows he’s stupid so he just smiles and huffs good-naturedly at your watery jeers. It’s hard to take you seriously when you’ve bawled like a baby in front of him.

“So? Do you like me too?” His voice is tender and you pause from rubbing your red-rimmed eyes and you look at him like he’s grown a second head. Your laugh is like this little sound that’s a mixture of a hiccup and an exasperated giggle. You rub your eyes and ignore the specks of mascara decorating your palms.

“Yes, yes I like you. Why else would I beg your mom to teach me exactly how you like your pork cutlet? “

“I just thought you are a kind person.” He shrugs.

You shake your head, “I’m not a kind person, you just bring that out of me.” 

“You make me kind too. I know I’m stupid and brash and I don’t know much about anything other than volleyball but I promise to know you. To love you like I have for all my life and for more.”  Tobio confessed and he looks into your eyes and you find yourself with a new set of tears in your eyes and you nod, shaky and timid but so incredibly happy.

“I promise to love you too. I’ll make you pork cutlet til I’m 80 and wrinkly and I’ll make sure our pet cat likes you.” You say and you’re serious Tobio fights back to snark about how you just had to bring up the way animals are averse to him. A silence envelopes you both as the realization that the song has ended, and you now hold hands for the first time. His callouses ground you to reality and Tobio can’t believe how soft your hands are on his rough skin.

“So…are you going to cancel your date, now?” He asks, voice still as serious as ever, and you sort, tuck your chin to your chest and fail to keep your shoulders from shaking as you laugh.

“Yes. Yes, I will cancel now.”

You’re laughter rings through the apartment as he raises his hand like a fist in the year and he cheers. The music cuts and you look at him fondly.