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“One more!” the middle blocker shouted, not even waiting for a response, already running towards the net and jumping high up, flattening his palm because he knows the ball will be there for him to slam it to the other side of the court.
It did. And the loud thud roared through Hinata’s ears. He couldn’t get enough of that fizzy feeling that pulsed through him with it.
Just about to pick up another ball, he noticed the basket was empty and all the balls covered the other half of the gym, rolling on the floor, bumping against each other.
“Let’s clean up.” Kageyama noted, approaching his spiker from where he stood by the basket.
Hinata’s head shot up. “Huh? Already tired Bakageyama??” he teased, but got moving, “Whoever picks up the most balls wins!” he shouted.
Kageyama obviously couldn’t reject this challenge. And so the two sprinted through the gym, arms full of trying to carry as many volleyballs as possible.
“Ha! I got 14!” Hinata announced, arms crossed over his chest.
Though Kageyama only snorted. “17.” he declared proudly.
“What? That’s just ‘cause your arms are longer!” the shorter pouted, slid down the wall, still panting. “Fine then, you win.”
Large presence took place next to him and Hinata sluggishly let his head fall down onto it’s shoulder. Kageyama didn’t even flinch, and a tired smile flashed the older’s face.
He stretched his legs out, feet dangling around. They looked much smaller next to Kageyama’s elephant feet. Hinata told him that much.
“I don’t have elephant feet, yours are just ridiculously small, dumbass!” Kageyama mocked, bumping their shoes together.
“Yeah sure, whatever.” breathed Hinata. He was too tired to argue anyways. It’s not his fault Kageyama was just enormously huge compared to him anyways.
From all the practice his legs ached, his head pounded and his heart still raced probably way too fast for someone who’s lazily sitting against the wall and Kageyama. But slowly, his breathing calmed and through his half lidded eyes, his gaze fell on another huge thing. Kageyama’s hands.
Well not huge.
More like; long fingers, and veiny back, muscles moving around every time fingers did.
Without even thinking, Hinata reached out and grabbed one of those hands.
He gently brushed against his knuckles, tracing down one vein with his thumb and then went back up to inspect his fingers.
“What are you doing?” Kageyama’s voice sounded kind of weird. And when Hinata lifted his head, he knew why. Kageyama’s face was tinted red, and it didn’t look like it was still from the earlier practice.
Hinata’s head fell once more. “You have nice hands.” he mumbled, caressing the skin of his hand. The texture was slightly rougher around his knuckles but softer around the back.
He turned the hand around and made out every line of the palm. It wasn’t red and white-dotted like Hinata’s after spiking, it was slightly darker from Hinata’s pale skin but still lighter than the rest of Kageyama. Faintly green or purple-ish where veins stretched underneath the skin.
Hinata pressed his own palm against it and again, his hand was expectedly smaller than Kageyama’s. His fingers were obviously much longer, and Hinata played around with his index, bringing it closer to his face and grasping over the knuckles.
What surprised him the most was how cold Kageyama’s fingers were. Rather blue-ish on the tips, following down underneath his nails. “Kageyama, are your hands always that cold?”
“Huh? I guess, my whole family’s like that.”
Hinata nodded. Kageyama’s voice sounded good, slighlty hoarse, low and raspy but calmer than usual.
He brushed his thumb over Kageyama’s nail. From all those times watching how Kageyama filed his nails during practice or before matches, he was surprised by how smooth they were under his touch. As always, they were completely short, barely any white showing, but they were also pretty long and just stopped right before the little skin left on the tip of his fingers. But they were completely clean and round, no ends sticking somewhere or any edge that could poke you.
Seriously, Hinata’s nails were a joke next to Kageyama’s. And apparently the setter did notice some uneasiness that shifted the atmosphere.
“Hey, give me your hands.” Kageyama blurted, grabbing Hinata’s right hand without even waiting for permission given. But Hinata was quick to pull his hand back, jumping from his comfortable position.
“Don’t do that, my hands don’t look nice.” he pressed, frowning down at his sweaty, still stinging red hands.
Kageyama glared at Hinata. “Why do you say that?” He tried reaching again but no avail, Hinata flinched away.
“Because I don’t- treat my hands or take care of my nails... like you.” No lie there. Hinata has always looked up to Kageyama when it came to self care.
Sighing, Kageyama stood up and brought a dark blue pouch from his bag.
This time, he gently took seat right in front of Hinata and took both hands into his, brushing over his knuckles like Hinata did before, because it felt good for him earlier.
“I can do your nails for you.” Kageyama bluntly stated and reached into his pouch, withdrawing nail scissors and files.
At first, he pulled Hinata’s left hand to his face, and noticed why Hinata was so embarrassed before. His nails were uneven, ragged and skin peeled off at it’s side. His knuckles were slightly bruised, scraped and red, small different scars spread all over his hand.
But they were warm, so so warm. And Kageyama cut each individual nail as short as they could get, careful not to cut too deep to prevent any bleeding. Hinata’s nails by itself were already pretty short.
“I used to bite them when I was younger... whenever I got anxious I chewed on them.” Hinata explained, acknowledging Kageyama’s examination. “I don’t anymore, but they’re still really damaged. They could never look like your nails.”
“What about your knuckles?” Kageyama questioned. He wasn’t even disgusted with Hinata, he knew exactly what it was like to have certain habits.
“Well, funny thing I guess. Because I don’t bite my nails anymore, I tend to bite into my fingers, or knuckles. I can’t really help it.”
Kageyama didn’t lift his gaze, he could hear the discomfort in Hinata’s voice. He just continued filing the sharp edges down the scissors created, moving onto the right hand. “Do you often get anxious?”
“Well uh sometimes. Like obviously before matches or tests, but it used to be worse in middle school. Oh and the scars are from biting as well, but I swear, some are from Natsu!”
Kageyama chuckled and listened to Hinata rambling about the times Natsu bit him or stabbed a pencil into in his hand, all while finishing on his pinky finger and admiring his own work. He moistured his hands with cream and took one last look at them.
Hinata was wrong.
He did have nice hands. They were small and slim, a little bony, you could see every single muscle and it might’ve looked scary, but they were also strong from and firm from all the spiking. And the best thing was the story to every scar.
And Kageyama told him so.