Work Text:
Hinata won’t stop wearing Kageyama’s shirts to bed, and it’s becoming a problem.
No, not becoming. It is a problem, and has been since before the first time Hinata came back from his shower wearing one of Kageyama’s shirts.
Kageyama just hadn’t realized the extent of the problem until he was faced with Hinata wearing his shirt that was probably two sizes too big on him and found it surprisingly difficult to form a coherent thought.
He definitely meant to say something then, but what he ended up doing was just staring with his mouth open.
“You’ll catch flies like that,” Hinata commented, rubbing his hair with his towel.
“You’re wearing my shirt,” Kageyama said.
Hinata looked down. “Oh. I didn’t notice.”
“You.” Kageyama had to swallow and start again. “You didn’t notice.” He was practically swimming in that shirt.
“You left it on my chair,” Hinata said.
Kageyama looked around their room. They both had clothes strewn around, draped on the backs of chairs and the foot of their beds. Some were on the floor.
“We really need to clean,” Kageyama said. “And do laundry.”
“Probably, yeah,” Hinata agreed, and tossed his towel haphazardly onto his chair before throwing himself onto his bed. “Good night,” he said, voice muffled because his face was pressed into his pillow.
“You—aren’t you going to change?” Kageyama asked.
Hinata turned to face him. “No? I can’t be bothered to. It’s just for tonight, so… It’s not a problem, is it?”
“I guess not,” Kageyama said.
“Right, then, good night,” Hinata said, and rolled over so that his back was to Kageyama.
That was the first time. The accident. But then the next night, Hinata wore one of Kageyama’s shirts again, and that time definitely wasn’t by mistake.
“What? Wearing big shirts to sleep is comfortable! Do you not want me to?” Hinata asked, and, since Kageyama hadn’t been able to give a good reason for him not to, Hinata has since continued to steal Kageyama’s shirts for the purpose of sleeping in.
So that’s how it is.
He can’t just tell Hinata that the reason he’s so bothered by seeing him in his shirt is because he’s had a crush on him since their first year of high school. He definitely can’t tell him he’s been in love with him since their second year, maybe before.
Being Hinata’s roommate in university was a clear mistake. But what else was he supposed to do? They’re best friends—something Kageyama wouldn’t trade for the world—and he couldn’t have just said no. He wouldn’t have wanted to.
He thought he could deal with it. He’s been dealing with his feelings for Hinata just fine for three years now, after all. But living with him is completely different. Hinata is just. Completely invading his space. There’s no other way to put it.
Hinata steals food from his plate at lunch and dinner. He borrows Kageyama’s pencils and never gives them back. He goes through Kageyama’s planner and leaves little notes for him, silly things like, ‘Don’t slack on homework or we can’t play volleyball!’ and, ‘We’re halfway through the semester, you can do it!!’ or even, ‘I bought the cookies you like, but I see you have an essay due, so ask me for them after you’re done’ (but even though he said that, Hinata gave him the cookies before he finished anyway). They press together on Kageyama’s bed when they watch movies on his laptop. Sometimes Hinata will lounge on his bed just because, even though his own bed is just across the room.
Kageyama’s not even sure if anything is really his anymore—it seems like everything of his belongs, in part, to Hinata now, too.
His bed smells like Hinata. His shirts smell like Hinata. Kageyama might not survive his first year of university if this keeps up.
“Hey,” he says, holding a freshly laundered shirt in his hand. “Can we run these through the laundry again?”
“Huh? Why would we do that?” Hinata asks, folding a pair of his pants.
“Just because,” Kageyama says. Because even though it shouldn’t smell like anything but detergent, he still feels like Hinata’s scent is lingering on it, on everything, and he can’t take it anymore. He wants to wash them again and again, until every last trace of Hinata is gone from them.
“What the hell?” Hinata says. “No, geez, we’re not paying for another cycle when it’s clean.”
Kageyama crumples the shirt in his hand. “Stop wearing my shirts.”
“Huh?” Hinata asks, thrown by the change in topic.
“Stop,” Kageyama says. “Just stop. Stop wearing my shirts to sleep. Stop coming onto my bed. Stop taking my stuff.”
“What’s gotten into you?” Hinata asks. He sounds almost nervous.
Kageyama doesn’t know what to do. He wants to keep Hinata as a friend, and he definitely doesn’t want to make things awkward between them since they’re living together, but he also doesn’t know how else to deal with this problem.
“It’s just annoying, alright?” Kageyama says, harsher than he means to. “You’re always taking all my space and all my stuff.”
And my heart, too, apparently, he thinks, and feels so embarrassed just thinking it that he has to turn away so Hinata can’t see his blush.
“I’m—I’m sorry?” Hinata says. “You should have told me before.”
Kageyama looks at the shirt still clenched in his hands and doesn’t reply.
“I’ll stop,” Hinata says.
“Okay,” Kageyama says.
“Okay.”
Hinata stops, and Kageyama doesn’t know if things are better or worse.
No, things are definitely worse.
Hinata doesn’t wear Kageyama’s shirt to sleep anymore. He doesn’t steal his food or take his pencils. He stops leaving notes in Kageyama’s planner. He doesn’t spend his time on Kageyama’s bed, instead staying on his own bed across the room.
He also seems to be ignoring Kageyama. They walk to campus together until they have to split up for their respective classes, and they meet each other for lunch, but they do so in silence. Actually, Hinata is pretty much acting like Kageyama doesn’t exist unless Kageyama addresses him first, and then he’ll jump a little, as if surprised that Kageyama is speaking to him, and then he’ll talk to him normally.
Kageyama’s life feels. Emptier. There’s a huge gap in the space Hinata used to occupy, and it hurts. It feels like rejection.
The only good (if it can be called that) thing so far is that their performance in volleyball hasn’t changed—so far. Kageyama guesses they’re both compartmentalizing, but he’s not sure how long they’ll last before their ability to work together on the court suffers. And if that happens, then teammates and coaches will get involved, and Kageyama definitely doesn’t need that in his life.
“Damn it,” Kageyama mutters to himself. It’s been two full weeks and he already can’t do this. He can’t stand Hinata invading his life, but he can’t stand Hinata not being in his life, either.
He’s a mess.
He’ll apologize to Hinata. This is his fault, after all, and Kageyama is tactless and a whole lot of other bad things, but he can at least recognize that he’s the one with the problem here.
He’s been hiding out on campus, but Hinata must have gotten back from his afternoon class about an hour ago, and so Kageyama, scolding himself for running away, heads back to the dorms.
What he doesn’t expect to see upon returning to their room is Hinata asleep on his bed. It’s a very conflicting sight.
Kageyama swallows. “Hinata,” he says, even though he knows Hinata almost never wakes up when someone just calls his name.
He approaches the bed and stares down at him, sleeping so peacefully, so carelessly on Kageyama’s bed, oblivious to the havoc he’s wreaking on Kageyama’s heart.
He grabs Hinata’s shoulder and shakes him roughly. “Hey, Hinata!”
Hinata jerks awake. “Guh—wha—”
He looks around blearily, and Kageyama swears he can pinpoint the moment Hinata realizes he’s not on his own bed. His eyes widen, and he actually jumps from the bed, almost barreling right into Kageyama in the process, if he didn’t move out of the way in time.
“Sorry!” Hinata says, looking mortified. “I was really tired after class and I just crashed into bed and took a nap and I guess I accidentally went to your bed—”
“This isn’t going to work,” Kageyama interrupts.
Hinata stares at him. “Wh-what do you mean? Do you—I said I was sorry and I gave you all your stuff back and I’ve been leaving you alone and everything. And I’m really sorry about just now.”
“No,” Kageyama says. “It’s not you, it’s me.”
Hinata’s mouth twists into a frown. “Really? That’s the line you’re going to go with?”
“I’m the one who’s sorry,” Kageyama says, ignoring him. “I didn’t want you to stop being my friend.”
“I didn’t think you wanted to be my friend anymore,” Hinata says. He looks confused and a little sad. It makes Kageyama’s heart twist.
“Of course I want to. You’re my best friend.”
He hesitates. Is he really doing this? He’s really doing this.
“I’ve had a crush on you. For years. That’s why I couldn’t handle you being so. Everywhere. In my life.” God, why can’t he speak normally? He has to force each word out, and he can hardly meet Hinata’s eyes, scared of his reaction. “But I didn’t mean to push you out so completely. And I should have told you the real reason in the first place. So…I’m sorry.”
There. It’s all out in the open now.
Hinata is staring at the ground, so Kageyama can’t see his face. He doesn’t know what he’s thinking, and it makes him nervous. He steels himself for rejection.
“You’re an idiot,” Hinata says quietly.
It’s an insult Hinata’s used on him countless times, but this time, in this context, with that tone, it hurts in ways it never has before. No amount of bracing would have prepared himself for the drop he feels in his stomach.
“…Yeah,” he says around a lump in his throat. It feels like his heart is being carved out of his chest.
“You’re an idiot,” Hinata says again, more forcefully, and he glares up at Kageyama, a faint blush on his cheeks.
Kageyama stares at him. Hinata’s eyes are shiny, and why does he look like the one who’s about to cry?
“It wasn’t an accident,” Hinata mutters, breaking eye contact.
“What?”
“Sleeping on your bed just now. Well—falling asleep was an accident, but not going to your bed.”
Kageyama is…very confused. “Why did you go to my bed?”
“Why do you think, idiot?”
“Alright, already, I get that I’m an idiot,” Kageyama snaps. “Can you just tell me what I’m missing here?”
“I’m saying I like you, too. I went to your bed because I missed you,” Hinata says. “And…wearing your shirts. Being in your space, or whatever. I did all that ‘cause I like you, too.” Hinata draws in a breath. “I thought you figured it out, and were rejecting me.”
It takes him a few moments to react, but Kageyama hugs him. There’s nothing else he can do, when they’ve both felt awful for the past two weeks and it’s all his fault.
“Sorry,” he says again. “I should have told you ages ago.”
Hinata brings his arms up to return the hug. “It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s not like I knew how to tell you, either.”
“You can wear my shirts if you want,” Kageyama says. “You can take anything. I’d let you have anything.”
Hinata pulls back a little. “Even this?” he asks with a little smirk, tapping his chest.
Kageyama blushes. “You already took that a long time ago.”
And Hinata’s little smirk transforms into a wide smile.
The next day, Kageyama finds a new note in his planner: I’ll give you a kiss once you finish your reading!
(Hinata ends up giving him a kiss before he finishes anyway.)