Top Hinata Shoyou Stories

Super League Finals

'by cymyguy'

: Hinata Shoyo x Kageyama Tobio

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Yeah, Hinata probably should have thought a little harder about that crush he used to have on Kageyama, before asking him to come to his hotel after that first game he ever played as a Jackal. But he can accept being the idiot who caught feelings; he’s been the idiot who did a lot of other things.

There’s a snowstorm coming to the East Coast, so the two medals matches have been moved from evening to morning. He and Kageyama are playing in the 11 o’clock championship. Hinata makes his customary trip to the toilets five minutes before warmups start. He likes to use the ones outside the locker rooms, so he’s away from other nerves and can center himself while emptying himself. Only today, once again, Kageyama is waiting to ruin his plans, like he’s missed being able to. He leans on his shoulder next to the men’s room, and his lips twitch as Hinata approaches.

“Kageyama?”

His kneepads are pulled up properly, his jacket half zipped the way he likes it during warmups, and the blue uniform gleams, makes him radiate, his hair look its blackest, yet softest, and his irises pop in a way that punches Hinata in the chest. Why does Kageyama just—look like this? This is sports, for crying out loud! Hinata hears his pulse in his ears as it picks up, somehow, even faster, thrumming along with the very distant buzz from the packed stadium above them. Kageyama is here to play against him. An electricity spikes through Hinata as his thoughts veer with his eyes to Kageyama’s chest on his left side.

“Um, is your—my—thing? Still there?”

He gestures vaguely, then snatches his hand back to rub at his hair. Kageyama pulls up the bottom of his jacket and jersey, revealing the dotting of faint bruises, their shape now indistinguishable.

“Ah.” Hinata swallows away the little feeling that burns up nastily inside him. “Sorry. About that.”

“You’re not sorry.”

He looks up fast, that little feeling licking at his ribs again. Kageyama is smirking. His garments back in place, he rubs his fingers over the marks. Hinata finds his hand moving to his own left pec to mimic the touch. He smirks back.

“I want to try something different today.”

“Winning?” Hinata guesses.

Kageyama’s eyes snap to slits, and in a blink he’s lunged forward and swiped at Hinata, who dodged away before Kageyama even finished the thought, laughing. Kageyama slips his hands into his pockets and stares him down.

“Loser makes dinner,” he says.

“Loser makes…”

Hinata tilts his head.

A date?

“Deal!” Hinata steps forward, planting himself so they’re body to body, nose to almost-chin. “I want feijão tropiero!”

“Matriciana,” is Kageyama’s reply. “It better be good.”

“It is.” Hinata has had great success with the recipe Kageyama shared. “Too bad you won’t get to try it.”

He looks up into Kageyama’s face, his incredible beautiful face with the stupid leering grin, and feels the finely-tuned strength of his body just by standing in his shadow. He’s the perfect rival. Hinata has to be more grateful to him than the sport itself, because he’s made it all that it is to him. This King of the Court. Hinata tugs on his waist and bounces up to kiss him.

“For good luck,” he calls as he swings the restroom door open. “You’re going to need it!”

“You can’t take credit for that when I win,” Kageyama yells back.