Haikyuu imagines

Seven minutes in heaven with Shirabu

You weren't even supposed to be at Shiratorizawa that late.

You only came to drop off Satori's notebook he left at your house-nothing dramatic, nothing chaotic, nothing involving being locked in a closet with the school's grumpiest setter.

At least... that was the plan.

But as soon as you stepped into the gym hallway, you heard giggling. Whispering. Footsteps running.

Then-

"GO GO GO-SHE'S COMING!"

"What-?"

Before you could ask what was happening, someone yanked a door open behind you. Hands shoved at your back. Another pair grabbed your arm. Before you could react, you stumbled forward-

-straight into Shirabu.

His hands shot out, catching your shoulders with a startled noise.

"Why-why are you-?"

A shriek from outside cut him off:

"SEVEN MINUTES! NO BACKING OUT!"

And then the door slammed. And clicked. Locked.

Silence.

Shirabu blinked at the narrow space. Then at you. Then down at your bodies-practically pressed together thanks to the tiny cleaning closet they'd shoved you into.

"...This is ridiculous," he muttered softly, cheeks already pink.

You exhaled, trying not to laugh at the absurdity. "I think your team misunderstood why I was here."

"Oh, I'm very aware." His jaw clenched, embarrassed. "They think-" He paused. "Actually, I don't even want to repeat what they think."

You couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips.

"Then don't."

He sighed, finally leaning his back against the wall-because there was nowhere else to go. His knee brushed yours. His breath was warm in the tiny darkness. His voice dropped slightly when he spoke again.

"...You should've texted before showing up. It would've saved you this."

"You saying you don't want to be stuck in a closet with me?"

His eyes flicked up, sharper than necessary-too sharp for someone who suddenly couldn't look away from your mouth.

"That's- That's not what I meant," he mumbled, ears burning now. "You know that."

A beat of silence.

A long, thick one.

You tilted your head. "Do I?"

Shirabu swallowed hard.

The air changed. Warmer. Closer. Tighter.

"You're..." He exhaled through his nose, frustrated with himself. "You're not the problem."

You raised a brow. "Then what is?"

He shifted, fingers curling slightly at his sides-like he was stopping himself from touching you.

"The problem," he murmured slowly, "is that I... don't mind this. At all. And I shouldn't."

Your heartbeat stuttered.

"...Why not?"

His eyes softened, almost painfully honest.

"Because if I start something with you in here..." he whispered, breath brushing your cheek, "...I'm not stopping after seven minutes."

Your breath caught.

A second passed. Two.

Then, despite everything-his nerves, his overthinking, the door locked by idiots-Shirabu leaned forward just a fraction.

So close you could feel warmth radiate from him.

"Tell me if I'm misreading this," he whispered.

You didn't.

You lifted a hand to his collar instead-closing the last inch between you.

His inhale shattered.

And he kissed you.

Not rough. Not frantic. But deep, steady, full of every quiet thing he'd been holding back.

His fingers slid to your waist, pulling you closer as your back brushed the closet door. You felt him smile-small, breathless, disbelieving-against your lips.

And that's exactly when the door burst open.

Light flooded in. Voices squealed. Shirabu jerked back so fast he nearly tripped over a mop bucket.

Tendō shrieked first.

"OH MY GOD-THEY WERE TOTALLY KISSING!"

Shirabu covered his face with both hands, absolutely mortified. You just laughed.

And as the team dragged you out into the hallway chaos-eyes wide, cheeks still warm-Shirabu met your gaze over their shoulders.

A tiny smile.

Soft.

Secret.

And promising.