“He ended up scaring you all over again, right?” Hinata had said, and Kageyama hates how true that is. He wants to be as unflappable as the greatest warriors of the region, but here he is, hunkered down in his tiny cell of a bunk room shining the scabbard of his sword because he’s too scared to even touch the blade.
The sun has mostly set and he’s working by candlelight, his own flickering reflection on the wall apt to startle him if he moves too quickly. He swallows, mouth too dry to make much progress and clears his throat.
“I’m not scared.” He says, and it sounds like a lie even to his too honest ears. “I’m not scared.” He repeats.
There’s a knock and the sound is loud and forceful enough to shake the door on its hinges. Kageyama draws his sword, instinct overriding any of his former hesitation. The door is pushed open, the invader heedless of the lock Kageyama had placed there, and Kageyama freezes at the sight.
“Tobio-chan.” The voice is booming, and the shadow fills the doorway, tendrils of it moving like something alive, crawling along the doorframe and dancing with the flickering candlelight.
Oikawa steps inside and everything shrinks. The shadows are gone, replaced by the normal shadow of a man, lit by the gentle candle’s glow, and when he speaks again it’s soft, seemingly human.
“Are you alright? You look ready to faint.”
Kageyama’s sword falls from his grip and he collapses back onto his bunk, sitting with his head in his hands. He doesn’t answer, he can’t.
“Tobio-chan?” Oikawa asks, and Kageyama can hear that he’s coming closer, his voice little more than a concerned whisper. “Can you talk to me?”
He has enough wherewithal to shake his head, just barely, and he jumps when Oikawa’s hand lands on his shoulder. It’s too cold, it’s not right, and even with his eyes closed Kageyama can see the tendrils of shadows leaking from Oikawa’s sleeves, he imagines he can feel them curling around the back of his neck.
Oikawa is closer now, sitting on the bed beside him and leaning over until Kageyama feels his breath against his jaw. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling at first, just the wetness of what must be Oikawa’s tongue and lips against his skin. He doesn’t realize it’s a kiss until it ends.
“It will be better next time, you know.” Oikawa says, and Kageyama’s shiver is a mixture of fear and something else.
FILL: TEAM MIYUKI KAZUYA/MIYUKI KAZUYA, Rated T
421 words
“He ended up scaring you all over again, right?” Hinata had said, and Kageyama hates how true that is. He wants to be as unflappable as the greatest warriors of the region, but here he is, hunkered down in his tiny cell of a bunk room shining the scabbard of his sword because he’s too scared to even touch the blade.
The sun has mostly set and he’s working by candlelight, his own flickering reflection on the wall apt to startle him if he moves too quickly. He swallows, mouth too dry to make much progress and clears his throat.
“I’m not scared.” He says, and it sounds like a lie even to his too honest ears. “I’m not scared.” He repeats.
There’s a knock and the sound is loud and forceful enough to shake the door on its hinges. Kageyama draws his sword, instinct overriding any of his former hesitation. The door is pushed open, the invader heedless of the lock Kageyama had placed there, and Kageyama freezes at the sight.
“Tobio-chan.” The voice is booming, and the shadow fills the doorway, tendrils of it moving like something alive, crawling along the doorframe and dancing with the flickering candlelight.
Oikawa steps inside and everything shrinks. The shadows are gone, replaced by the normal shadow of a man, lit by the gentle candle’s glow, and when he speaks again it’s soft, seemingly human.
“Are you alright? You look ready to faint.”
Kageyama’s sword falls from his grip and he collapses back onto his bunk, sitting with his head in his hands. He doesn’t answer, he can’t.
“Tobio-chan?” Oikawa asks, and Kageyama can hear that he’s coming closer, his voice little more than a concerned whisper. “Can you talk to me?”
He has enough wherewithal to shake his head, just barely, and he jumps when Oikawa’s hand lands on his shoulder. It’s too cold, it’s not right, and even with his eyes closed Kageyama can see the tendrils of shadows leaking from Oikawa’s sleeves, he imagines he can feel them curling around the back of his neck.
Oikawa is closer now, sitting on the bed beside him and leaning over until Kageyama feels his breath against his jaw. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling at first, just the wetness of what must be Oikawa’s tongue and lips against his skin. He doesn’t realize it’s a kiss until it ends.
“It will be better next time, you know.” Oikawa says, and Kageyama’s shiver is a mixture of fear and something else.