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Kageyama wakes in the middle of the night to find a certain nineteen year old redhead perched on top of his legs, staring at him with his brown, almost yellow, eyes.
Any normal person would have screamed, at least caused a fuss, but not Kageyama. No, Kageyama, much to his discontent, was used to this. He had already lost count of the exact number of times, but it was a fairly common occurrence for Kageyama Tobio, Private Investigator, stationed in Seattle, Washington.
The black haired twenty-one year old shifts, trying to throw the other boy off of his legs. He stays put, whispering for his childhood friend to finally wake up. Finally, after much persuasion from Hinata, He sits up, rubbing his face tiredly.
“What d’you want, Hina?” As usual, Kageyama asks the question, sighing. “What did you do this time?”
“Tobio. . . Tobio I fucked up again…” Hinata shakes his head fearfully. “You told me not to do it again, but I did it again, Tobio, I tried not to, but he scared me and he said he was going to kill you, Tobio-“
Kageyama groans. “Not again, Hina, you know how much shit I got myself into after covering up your last fuck-up.”
“I know I’m sorry, I’m really awfully sorry-“
“Are you sorry for killing another person or are you sorry because I’m mad at you?”
Hinata sighs, rolling his eyes in a ‘What do you think?’ manner. The answer is apparent, and Kageyama Tobio wants to rip his hair out in frustration.
“Why can’t you listen to me, for just once, Hinata? I’m trying to keep you safe, you know that?”
“But I’m trying to keep you safe, Kageyama! He said he was going to kill you, because you ‘meddled in his business’, and I couldn’t handle it! The next thing I know, he’s running into my knife, it was a total accident, really, it was his fault. I mean, honestly, what an idiot, he didn’t realize that it was his fault. Who runs into knives all day, right? Kageyama, you have to believe me, he cut himself open, it’s not my fault-“
“Okay, Hinata, this is what we’re going to do,” Hinata flinches at Kageyama’s harsh tone, but listens attentively. “First of all, where did you hide the body?”
“Uh, about that. . . ”
More sighing ensues. This was going to be a hell of a pain in the ass for Kageyama, he could already tell. Fuck Hinata and his fuckin homicidal tendencies; why can’t he just, like, chill for like five seconds. But nooo, it was always ‘I accidentally shoved them off the bridge.’ And ‘Oops, I forgot the gun didn’t have a safety lock.’ And ‘He ran into my knife! He ran into my knife seventeen times.”
Yet Kageyama still stays, and cleans up every mess that Hinata gets himself into. Why? He didn’t exactly know, but he knew that Hina was his best friend, and would always be. Yeah, even with the whole murdering people thing.
“Hinata, if you want me to help you, you have to tell me where the body is.”
“I. . . kinda burnt it? And then scattered it? And by scattered I mean I put it into a bunch of cigarette papers and then slipped that into his house. Y’know, because he should’ve stayed home?” He shrugs, “I don’t know, I found it hilarious.”
“Fingerprints?”
“None! Not even on the box that I put the cigarettes in!”
Sometimes Kageyama couldn’t tell whether this boy was an idiot or a genius, and this was one of those times.
“Okay, so no fingerprints, the body’s taken care of, did you leave any evidence where you killed him?”
“Hrmm…” Hinata puts his hand to his chin and hums thoughtfully. “I don’t think so? I mean, I burned the place down anyway?”
Was this a joke, are you fucking kidding me, Hinata. Kageyama stares at his friend with a tired expression. “Where. Did. You. Kill. Him.”
Hinata’s expression grows lighter, as if remembering the deed. Gross. “In the woods behind his house!”
“You set the entire woods on fire?”
“Yeah!”
“What the fuck, Hinata?” Kageyama needed a vacation, and he needed one badly. “You could’ve just removed the evidence, you dumbass, what the fuck am I doing running after you all day when you do stupid shit like this?! Goddamn, I should’ve run away from you when I had the chance.”
Hinata cringes, bowing his head as if to say sorry. From where he sits, Kageyama can see the tears drip onto the blanket. Watching, Kageyama sighs again, rubbing his neck.
“Okay, I’m sorry, Hina. I shouldn’t have yelled like that.”
He doesn’t move, instead glancing up hopefully.
“Are you okay, Hinata? Are you hurt?” Kageyama’s tone changes, sounding more like a doting parent than someone who has to pick up someone else’s slack 24/7.
Hinata nods his head shyly, tears still dripping down his face.
“C’mere then.” Kageyama turns on the lamp on his nightstand, opening the cherry wood drawer and pulling out the first aid kit. “Show me where it hurts.”
Hinata crawls over to him, and pulls up his shirt, showing a knife scratch and then shows Kageyama his hand, burned bright red. As usual, Kageyama cringes, running his fingers over the wounds in awe. Then he gets to work, dabbing rubbing alcohol to Hinata’s scratch and getting up to get a wet cloth. He returns to waiting Hinata, sitting patiently on his bed.
Kageyama pulls Hinata’s hand to himself, and examines it with medical precision. From the looks of it, it seemed to be a first degree burn, although he makes a note to watch for any change over the course of 24 hours. Hinata hisses as the cool cloth touches his overheated skin, but looks at the cloth in curiosity once the pain subsides.
“Kageyama. . . You have a handkerchief?” He smiles, as if that’s the cutest thing in the world, and traces the ‘K’ embroidered on it in blue. “It’s very pretty. . . Suits you well.”
At this, Kageyama turns bright red, attention drifting from cleaning Hinata’s scrape to his smile, which makes his heart race in a familiar way.
“What are you talking about, you idiot?!” He pouts, turning back to Hinata’s midriff. “Of course I have a handkerchief! Everyone has one, duh.”
At this, Hinata laughs giddily, and Kageyama pulls a discontent expression, trying to keep Hinata’s side still enough.
“Hina,” He groans. “Please stay still, I don’t want to hurt you by accident.”
Hinata smiles, looking down at his friend with warmth, eyes crinkling up at the usual sight.
“It’s okay Tobio, you wouldn’t hurt me. I trust you with my life.”
He grins as Kageyama’s ears turn pink, and takes the elbow into his ribs with delight.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”
He shrugs noncommittally. “It means what it means.”
“Why you…” Kageyama trails off, returning to the medical demeanor that he always has when dealing with things like this. He reaches back, grabs a sterile bandage and examines it for length. “Y’know, for a scrape this is pretty deep Hina. . . ”
Hinata groans, “I know, I know; Mr. I-Don’t-Want-To-Die-Please-Spare-Me had quite a nasty streak.”
Sighing for the umpteenth time that day, Kageyama wraps Hinata’s wound tightly, making sure it didn’t hurt.
“How’s the water doing?”
“Huh?”
“The cloth. With water. On your hand.”
“Oh! It’s doing good, thank you, Tobio! It feels much better now.”
He hums, cleaning up his first aid kit and placing it back into its spot in his drawer. “Do you think you can fall asleep?”
Kageyama faces the younger boy, who twitches in anticipation, antsy. “. . . never mind, you don’t have to answer that.”
It was clear enough to Kageyama that even if he went back into bed, Hinata would keep him up with his restless tossing and turning. Kageyama glances at his friend, who stares back in curiosity, and suddenly Kageyama sees fourteen year old Hinata on his bed again, just like it used to be. Tending his wounds, just like it used to be. Back then, Hinata got into a lot of fights at school, seemingly a weak target for others. Maybe that’s what fucked him up in the end. But, no matter what happened, Kageyama was always there, helping him, healing him, keeping him as sane as possible. And no matter what, Hinata always had a smile on his face in front of Kageyama. It didn’t matter how badly he was hurt, he would keep smiling and laughing.
The memory vanishes as Hinata shifts again, smiling at Kageyama. “So. . . I take it it’s my turn to pick out the movie?”
Kageyama rolls his eyes, “As if. You picked it out last week; it’s my turn.”
“Whaaat, no, we both picked it out last week, remember? That’s not fair, it doesn’t count.”
“Fine, fine. Go pick it out and set it up, I’ll go make some popcorn, okay?”
Hinata lets out a cheer and runs off towards the theatre room, almost knocking over a vase in a hurry. Kageyama, on the other hand, saunters over to the kitchen, wondering how the hell this seems natural. How completely natural their encounters are, and how each sends his heart into a frenzy. How each smile makes him melt a little more, and how he can’t help but spoil Hinata as much as he could.
Was he in love? No, that couldn’t be. It’s just attachment; they’d been together for so long; of course Kageyama would want to do whatever he could to protect Hinata.
He shoves the bag of popcorn into the microwave roughly, slamming his hand on the buttons of the microwave as they beep in protest.
What was love anyway? He’d had his fair share of dates during high school, but none of them made his heart race, or made his heart turn to putty in their hands. Maybe he was weirder than Hinata was. No, that couldn’t be true; after all, he’d murdered his third girlfriend for coming between them. Nothing Kageyama did could ever out-weird Hinata, who smiles more with blood on his hands than with a pretty girl.
The microwave dings, and he takes out the bag, juggling it around in his hands for a little bit before grabbing a large glass bowl and emptying it into the bowl. He grabs a piece of popcorn off the top and throws it up into the air, attempting to catch it in his mouth. It bounces off of his forehead and drops onto the floor.
Kageyama stares at it for a little while, wondering why the hell everyone hated him today. He sets the bowl down on the countertop and picks it up, pouting at it in disdain. He tosses it towards the trashcan, where it hits the brim and falls back onto the white tiles that belay the entire kitchen floor.
He stares at the piece of popcorn again, cursing it to high heavens before actually walking over and slam dunking the piece furiously into the trash can. That should teach it a lesson.
Once again, Kageyama picks up the glass bowl and follows after Hinata, who already has the pre-movie commercials playing. He slips past the first row of chairs and goes down to the third, joining Hinata on the comfy armchairs with the glass bowl in his lap. Hinata turns to him, excitedly grinning. He allows himself a small smile back and turns to watch the previews. Ah, of course, the usual gore movie that Hinata always picks up. What was it again? ReGOREgitated Sacrifice? Yeah, that seemed about right. As usual, the mixture between gore and porn always managed to excite the small red head beyond belief. Although he himself found these movies a bit scary and distasteful, at least they helped Hinata not murder the entire human population of planet Earth.
Sure enough, the movie starts with odd clips, blurry and distorted. It’s not hard to get into the movie, but soon enough Kageyama notices that Hinata isn’t watching the movie anymore. Instead, his bright yellow eyes are trained on Kageyama’s face.
“. . . Hey. . .Tobio. . . “
“Hmm?”
“Can I kiss you?”
Kageyama splutters at the sudden question, choking on popcorn. Hinata stares on in amusement, ignoring the moans coming from the sound system behind them.
“Oh c’mon, Tobio. . .” Hinata gets up on his knees, leaning over the armrest to hover near Kageyama’s face. “I know you want to, and after all, I want to as well.”
Recovering from his previous shock, Kageyama rolls his eyes. “Yeah right, just watch the movie, Hina.”
“To-bi-o!” Hinata sings Kageyama’s name and leans in even closer. “Stop being a coward and kiss me already!”
“Hinata, stop.” Kageyama pushes back into the armchair, trying to ignore Hinata as blood splashes about on the projector screen. “I’m not okay with this-“
“You don’t have to be.” Hinata lunges forward, pressing his lips to Kageyama’s and their teeth clang together and Kageyama can’t help but feel there’s something wrong with the way that Hinata is looking at him.
“Hinat- Shou, please stop-“
At this, Hinata stops abruptly, as if remembering his connection with Kageyama. The vicious bloodthirst in his eyes subsides, replaced by a look of shame and disappointment.
“I’m sorry, Tobio, I don’t know what came over me I-“
“It’s okay, Hinata, just…” Kageyama closes his eyes, face flushing red. “Just go a little slower next time, okay?”
Hinata stares in astonishment, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. “. . . Oh.”
He reaches behind himself, grabbing the remote control and turning the movie off, leaving the projector to light the room blue. He smiles at Kageyama, a soft, gentle smile, like the one Kageyama often saw when they were children. Shifting himself over the armchair, he straddles the older male carefully, staring down at Kageyama in fascination.
As Hinata leans down, he whispers three words that are like music to Kageyama’s ears.
“I love you” Hinata hesitates, and then continues suddenly. “Like, a lot. Like, I would do anything for you, like I do everything with you in mind, like I’d die for you and I’d follow your every order and-“
“Oh my god Shou, shut up.” Hinata complies, snapping his jaw shut immediately. Kageyama shakes his head, a goofy grin on his face. “. . . I love you too.”
That’s all the reassurance Hinata needs to lean down and press his lips to Kageyama’s.
They fall asleep like that, the popcorn forgotten on the armchair to Kageyama’s right and the light from the projector still bathing the room in an ocean of blue, coloring the white walls dark and the dark chairs light.
Eventually, they’ll have to snap out of their delusional micro-earth, where only they exist, content with watching movies and cuddling. But, until then, Kageyama can turn a blind eye to Hinata’s wrong-doings and concentrate on the Hinata in front of him, the same one he met 16 years ago. The one who smiles at him with eyes that never look away, the one who will never let him down.
Yes, eventually life will fuck them both over, and what was taken away will be given back. But, until then, here he will stay, stay here he will, in his mind, always and forever.