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tagged by @wakatshi​ ! thanks for the tag angel ilysm 🤍 !

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿. kageyama tobio

𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘁. #39 “don’t cry.”

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲. hurt / comfort !!! tobio is no good with tears and i love him

Kageyama knows it’s bad when Suga-senpai confronts him about it.

“So,” he ambushes him during lunch time, around the vending machine (Of course he waits around the vending machine, Kageyama’s favoured spot to get his daily dose of milk). “What happened?”

Kageyama frowns. “About what?”

“You know what I mean.” However, Sugawara smiles, in that nurturing way of his that always makes Kageyama feel a little lighter. And a little troubled as well, because he can’t believe how utterly transparent he could be at times.

Kageyama chooses to direct his glowering towards the vending machine, gaze flickering between a carton of milk or yogurt, a predicament he struggled with each day— but which was considerably easier to deal with, next to the one he currently had at hand, that’s it. He growls when he notices the guilt is dawning upon him, again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sugawa asks, gently as ever, and Kageyama wants to say no, because a part of him does not wants to talk about it. But the other part, the vulnerable, insecure one, seems to be taking over him more often than not these days, and so he decides there’s no harm in speaking to a familiar face.

Far too violently, Kageyama presses both buttons simultaneously and lets the vending machine do the decision for him. “We had a fight,” he says, quietly. 

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿. hinata shouyo

𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘁. #95 “good luck.”

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲. a bit hurty. it’s just abt (puts fingers together) the little gestures

His blinding smile. Your gaze meeting his. A good luck fist bump.

A silly gesture that had grown into a private code of yours. It doesn’t holds a meaning, per se— It’s not supposed to have one. Just genuine encouragement, a casual display of affection. That’s all there is to it.

That’s all there should be to it.

“Hold up— Rio? As in, Rio de Janeiro?”

Hinata laughs, carefree as ever, as the two of you sit on the stairs of some park, perhaps closer than necessary. The sun sets in the distance, hues of orange and burgundy colouring the sky, pulling night along its place. These days, it’s seems like your detours on your way home take longer than the usual.

“Yep. Rio, as in, Rio de Janeiro,” he repeats, nodding alongside each word. His smile grows bigger when he turns around and sees your utterly dumbfounded expression.

“Wait— But, I mean…” You can’t even be embarrassed about your stuttering, too preoccupied trying to come up with a coherent sentence. It’s like you’ve suddenly downloaded a Considerably Big file and your brain memory card is the size of a teaspoon. Hinata waits patiently until you pull yourself together, though. “What?”

Another string of giggles. You force yourself to ignore the odd, fuzzy feeling that his laughter brings to you.

“I don’t get it,” you finally confess, feeling like you’ll run out of power at any second. “I just— Why? Why Brazil? Why now? Why so— so suddenly?”

“It’s not sudden, though?” he says. “I’ve been thinking about it for a long while, actually.”

“Since when?”

He tilts his head, “Since I did ball boy during that one training camp in my first year. Remember? The one I wasn’t even invited to?”

How could you possibly forget? Only Hinata Shouyo was bold enough to barge into an exclusive training camp Uninvited just because he felt like it. Reckless, unpredictable Shouyo.

Unpredictable indeed.

“When are you planning to leave, then?”

“Oh, not until we graduate, that’s for sure!” He flashes you his million dollar smile. “I’ll train for a year too before I leave, so, at the very least, It’ll take me about, uh, a couple of years? I don’t know, you do the math.”

Roughly two years, you think. That’s practically nothing.

“Is that so…” It’s all you manage to say, because you don’t really have anything better to offer. You look down to your hands, hooking and unhooking your fingers in deep thought. There’s just too much to unpack for your single braincell.

Hinata’s leaving. Leaving. After Graduation. To Rio, out of all the places. Isn’t Rio, like, halfway across the globe? Another continent. Very far, far away.

“Are you gonna go and say it’s a bad idea, too?”

You blink, putting the turmoil of thinking thoughts in mute to place all of your attention in Hinata. It was hard not to give your full and undivided attention to Hinata Shouyo. He had that sort of effect in people. 

“What do you mean?” you ask instead.

“Most of the people think so,” He doesn’t seem particularly bothered despite his words. “I mean, they don’t say it, like, verbally, but I can feel it. Well, except Tsukishima. He did say to my face I’d just embarrass myself in Rio. Can you believe it? The disrespect! I mean, there’s the cultural shock stuff and Portuguese does seem very difficult— But! You don’t know until you try, right?” Then, for some reason, he goes awfully quiet and adds. “Or perhaps it is foolish, after all?”

“I don’t think it’s foolish at all,” you answer before you can actually register your own words. “Well, yeah, you might not be the brightest academically—”

“Hey!”

“But you’re a hard-worker, Shouyo. Especially when volleyball it’s involved. I think if it’s you, you’ll do it just fine.”

Hinata stares. Knowingly. “But?”

God, how does he see right through you?

“... I’m just wondering why you’d choose beach volleyball, that’s all,” you tell him quietly, so you won’t spill all the other embarrasing and selfish questions you had in mind. So you won’t show the sudden sprout of loneliness manifesting within you.

Hinata takes a while before replying, every trace of playfulness leaving his face. “Because I want to be capable of doing everything,” he says while looking somewhere up in the sky, somewhere you probably couldn’t reach even if you tried to. “There’s, like, so much to learn about volleyball, so many things I haven’t even considered before, and I want to know it all. I need to do it all.” 

Of course he’ll say something along the lines. Certified Hopeless and Lovable Volleyball Nerd, you muse to yourself.

A smile quickly pops in his face, because Hinata Shouyo is only able to remain serious for so long, “Anyways! I’ll probably just do a fool of myself or whatever.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Hey! Here is where you’re supposed to say that’s not true!”

“But even if you do a fool of yourself,” With a gentle tap, you knock the tip of your shoes against his. “I’ll be cheering on you, Shouyo.”

You raise a fist and offer it up to him. Hinata stares at you, then at your hand.

“For good luck?” It’s more of a question, as if you haven’t done it thousands of times already. 

Hinata smiles, and it’s so welcoming and bright, you could almost taste what it might be like. Softly, he bumps his fist against yours.

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿. akaashi keiji

𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘁. #73 “take mine.”

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲. just soft teenagers being silly ! fluffy shit !

“I told you to bring a coat,” Akaashi says, far too matter-of-factly for your liking, but if there’s any eagerness to fight back you bite it down. As much as you hate to admit, he’s right. Akaashi’s hardly ever wrong, you idly think to yourself.

“I didn’t thought it would be this cold!” you still have the nerve to complain, because, who’s going to stop you? 

“It’s snowing.”

“I didn’t thought it would snow, either!”

“You shouldn’t underestimate January,” he states, silently staring as you shiver and pout and kick at the snow that has been piling up around. It’s a childish sight to behold, you’re perfectly aware of it, but Akaashi doesn’t seem to be particularly bothered. If anything, you’d say he’s almost amused by your antics.

“With all due respect, Sir, but I feel compelled to let you know I’m not the only moron underestimating January,” With that said, Akaashi follows with his gaze the point your finger indicates, only to be met with the the figure of certain boisterous, white-haired young lad running and slipping down the snow-covered streets. No coat, no scarf, just two functioning brain cells and a burning will to have a great time. The vivid picture of youth. Truly inspiring.

“Bokuto-san will be fine,” Akaashi resolves after a beat of silence, but you can tell there’s a slight tick on his eye as Bokuto proceeds to fall on his face. Several times. “Most likely.”

“Debatable.”

A chill runs down your spine. Trying to keep yourself warm, you rub both of your forearms and heave a long sigh, the air falling like a cloud and disappearing amidst the cold wind. Fuck, you really should have brought your coat. It’s freezing and your few layers of clothing are not what you’d call cozy. You shove your hands beneath your armpits and wonder if you’ll make it to your home without getting frostbitten— It’s not even that cold, you viciously tell yourself, it’s only cold if you think so, so it’s not cold. You’re not frozen to the bone, you will not die—

You’re so engrossed into your inner monologue you don’t even notice when Akaashi unbuttons his own coat and slides it over your shoulders, far too gently, as if he’s handling spun glass. So Akaashi-like.

“There,” he offers primly, and a tiny part of you wishes his hands would have remained over your shoulders a little longer. “Take mine. You’re freezing.”

“That’s a false statement,” you say, deliberately ignoring his raised brow. “And I can’t take this! What about you? You’ll freeze, too.”

“Your house is only ten minutes away,” he points out. “I think I can endure it until then.”

“Nu-uh,” you shake your head, vehemently so, as your previous train of thoughts strikes back again. “You’re not dying on me.”

“I don’t know how you possibly reached that conclusion but I’m not going to ask.”

“I’m giving it back,” you try to do the exact same he did while lending you the coat, but Akaashi persists.

“It’s fine. Just take it.”

“No can do, Sir. Our team’s precious setter can’t afford to get a cold!”

“I’m telling you, I’m fine. If anything, I’m more concerned about you getting one.”

There’s such stark (and equally endearing) contrast between Akaashi’s messy, silky dark hair and the tiny flakes of snow landing on it, it almost takes your breath away. Damned Akaashi and his ethereal, otherworldly beauty.

“Don’t you think I’m just gonna say yes and stay put because you’ve got that pretty face of yours.”

“Pretty face, you say…”

“Anyways, I’m not letting you freeze to death because of me!”

It’s probably just you, but it seems like Akaashi’s perpetually stoic face is about to break into a smile at any given second. “You can be so dramatic at times.”

You look up to him (because there’s something so inherently distracting about Akaashi + a snowy scenery that you can’t really put in words) until Akaashi gets shy and looks away (because yes, as a fact, Akaashi Keiji gets shy) and something stirs in your chest. Deeply, tenderly. You still can’t put it into words, but perhaps that’s the reason why you take the coat and, after placing it back into your shoulders, you lean into Akaashi’s chest and try to envelop him into the fabric as well. You can tell Akaashi’s taken aback by the sudden approach, but for whatever reason, he doesn’t pull back. He just stays still, allowing you to snuggle in closer and surround the shape of him with the coat to the best of your abilities. Only then you realize how warm Akaashi is.

A moment of silence goes by before Akaashi finds his voice once again. “... What is this supposed to be?”

“A settlement,” you say, half assured, half I’m-five-seconds-away-from-human-combustion! “It’s fair like this. No one’s getting cold. A win-win.”

“Is that so,” he replies (and is he holding back a smile? he’s holding back a smile). “But how we will move around in this position?”

“We can just—,” you move half of a step backwards, gently nudging Akaashi so he does the same, but forwards. “Slowly make our way like this.”

“It’s going to be quite the task doing it like this,” he states, but follows your lead anyways.

“Then so be it!”

Akaashi giggles so quietly you wouldn’t have heard it if you couldn’t feel them coming from his chest. His voice is so small and sheepish, and yet so, so warm, you might just melt.

“What are you guys doing?!” Both of you flinch considerably, but quickly ease as soon as you recognize Bokuto’s voice piping up. “Oh, that looks like fun! Let me in, let me in!”

“Wait, Bokuto-san—”

“Stop, Bo! That tickles!”