Chapter Text
"Oi, Shittykawa."
The familiar grit and irritation in Hajime's tone snapped Tooru from his haze of unorganised thoughts. Blinking back the chaos of his unbridled mind, he refocused on the room around him - the high ceiling, the polished floors, the blinding lights and the squeaking of shoes on the courts and volleyballs hitting the walls drill after drill.
He was here. At school. In his favourite place, the gym. It was his home away from home, at this point - oddly enough, he found more comfort in the constant noise of the court than he did the silence of his own bedroom. But he dismissed any sort of haunting feeling he had towards that silence every time he questioned it in his own head. He was just tired, that's all. That's what he told himself.
"Yaho," he called back to Hajime, who was swiftly approaching him. Maybe it was the darkness of the steadily-drawing evening outside making the lights more intense, but Hajime's face looked brighter tonight. His features were less heavy on his face and more relaxed. Well, as relaxed as they could be with his perpetual frown he insisted on keeping in public. Even when Tooru knew he was pretending so he could appear more 'manly'. It was silly to him.
"Are you just gonna stand there all evening? We have a game to prepare for, we need you in top shape," Hajime huffed a breath, narrowing his eyes at Tooru in such a way that he wasn't truly annoyed, but insistent instead. No matter how biased he'd be towards Tooru, he was always expecting the best from every member of the Seijoh team.
In response, Tooru couldn't help but giggle quietly, covering his mouth daintily with his hand.
"You look so funny when you're pretending to be angry, Iwa-chan," he crooned after the mild laughter had passed. "I know what I'm doing. Have faith in me."
"You never look it. You don't take things seriously enough," Hajime responded in a clipped tone, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "Hurry up and get over here. I want to run receive drills with you, Loserkawa."
With that, Hajime turned on his heel and approached the closest court in the large gymnasium, clearly expecting Tooru to follow him without question. Which was correct, of course.
"Hey, I take plenty of things seriously," Tooru whined dramatically as he trailed along behind Hajime, putting on an exaggerated pout. "You just don't know how to have a good time once in a while, Iwa-chan! You're such a stick-in-the-mud."
At Tooru's exaggerated complaint, Hajime rolled his eyes and gave him no more entertainment. Reaching over and plucking a volleyball from the container, he spun it against his palm for a moment before ducking under the net and facing his captain from the other side.
"Ready? I'm not going easy on you," he called out against the constant noise of their fellow teammates diligently practicing nearby.
"I'm ready~" Tooru grinned, tempted to strike a pose just to irk Hajime more but opting for a tilt of his head instead. Hajime would never say it to his face, but he always found himself enamoured with Tooru's mannerisms. Even if he knew they were fake. He couldn't bring himself to dislike even the untrue parts of him - he was just too beautiful to be discouraged.
"Right. You better hit this one," Hajime muttered, tossing the ball upwards and jumping up to meet it halfway, sending a powerful (but not overwhelming) spike in Tooru's direction. As expected, it was received excellently and with perfect technique - however, by some phenomenon (in reality, Tooru overshot it) it flew to the left and missed Kunimi's face by mere millimetres.
"Sorry!" Tooru called, his concern accompanied with a quiet giggle once again. "Seems I was a little off on that one, Kunimi-kun! Pass that back over, would you, pretty please?"
Kunimi responded with a roll of his eyes, but still trailed after the trundling volleyball and casually tossed it over his head to Tooru, who caught it with a grin. He called out a dramatic "thank you" that got no return, but he didn't really care. Turning back to Hajime, he tossed the ball up with a quiet "hup!", followed by a powerful leap and an echoing hit that ricocheted through the gym. Hajime let out a quiet exclamation of surprise - he knew Tooru's spikes were powerful, but he wasn't expecting him to go all in straight away. Either way, he received it well enough, though he felt the smack of the volleyball on his forearms a little more harshly than usual.
"Iwa-chan~ you almost missed that one! Pay attention, okay?" Tooru cooed, his call punctuated with a cheeky laugh. "That looked like it hurt!"
Hajime rolled his eyes so far it looked like his irises would get lost, exhaling sharply.
"I'm fine. I just wasn't expecting you to spike so quickly. Pick up a thing or two from that match with Karasuno or something?"
He expected a jab or pout in return, but instead was met with momentary silence. Tooru paused in his floaty measurements, averting his gaze from Hajime and letting it fall to the floor. He didn't usually let anything bother him - visibly, anyway - but he hated being compared to Karasuno. He especially hated when someone implied he learned from them. He was way better than they ever would be. Or, that's what he told himself.
Hajime seemed to figure it out pretty quickly, as he ducked under the net and dropped the volleyball onto the court floor.
"Oi," he grunted, stopping directly in front of the slightly taller boy (as much as he hated to admit their height difference) and lightly shoving his shoulder with a rough palm. "You're not seriously getting upset about that, are you?"
Tooru didn't answer straight away, biting the inside of his cheek. He knew Hajime hadn't meant it in a mean way, he knew - but that inner voice was enough to make it seem like that was the truth.
"No. No, I'm not upset," he quickly mumbled back, shaking his head slightly as if it'd cause his thoughts to fly out of his ears. "It's fine."
He could already sense people's eyes on him - or, that's what his head was telling him - and attempted to quickly do away with the slight frown and the tentative inward tilt of his eyebrows.
"Anyway, we should get back to drills! Didn't you wanna test me on my receives? I can't be sending them astray at our next match, hm, Iwa-chan?"
Hajime curtly rolled his eyes at Tooru's miserably failed attempt at composing himself, but didn't verbalise his opinion. He just knew he'd be having another painful conversation with Tooru later in the privacy of one of their bedrooms, hiding away from the rest of the world.
"Whatever. Get it together, Shittykawa," he grumbled, ducking under the net again.
The pair of them didn't say another word for the rest of the training session, simply communicating through their spikes and receives. Eventually, when Tooru's spikes started getting more aggressive than calculated, Hajime caught the ball and held on to it firmly enough to signify that they were done. Everyone else was packing up anyway, so it wouldn't have been out of place for them to leave.
"C'mon, Shittykawa," he tutted, tossing the volleyball into the container and beckoning him over with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Let's get out of here."
Tooru didn't have to be told twice. He retrieved his bag from nearby and tossed it over his shoulder, shoving his hands in the pockets of his team jersey. His face was downcast, lacking its usual spark of energy and casual smugness - but the approaching shadows from the moonlight outside were dark enough to mask Tooru's uncharacteristic discontent from the rest of the team. Except for Hajime, of course. He always knew.
"Yours tonight?" Hajime muttered in question once they had walked far enough from the gym to be unheard. When Tooru replied with nothing but a nod, Hajime huffed a breath and wrenched the other boy's hand out of his pocket, interlocking their fingers.
"Idiot," he said under his breath. "You can just talk, y'know. Dunno why you insist on pretending to be okay all the time. We're talking once we get there, and you're not getting out of it."
...
"I'll let my parents know I'm here," Hajime murmured as the pair of them eventually stepped inside Tooru's house. It was dark and tranquil, but not silent - Tooru's parents were still awake, it looked like, as the TV was still quietly playing in the living room nearby. As Tooru approached, he poked his head around the living room door.
"Oto-san. Oka-san," he called quietly. "Iwa-chan's staying over, is that okay?"
Both of his parents turned their gazes to their son, his mother pausing the programme on the dim screen.
"Of course it is," was the affirmative reply from her. "Is he okay? Do his parents need help with something?"
The question caused Tooru's father to straighten his posture, as if he were ready to jump up and run to Hajime's house at a moment's notice.
"No," Tooru denied, shaking his head slightly. "I just want him to stay over tonight."
Both parents relaxed visibly at that, but neither of them missed the melancholy message behind Tooru's words. They could tell without a shadow of a doubt that there was more to Hajime staying over than just "wanting to be there".
They knew about both of the boys' relationship already, and they'd known Tooru wasn't.. "the same" as his male peers before he had even known himself. Nonetheless, they couldn't help but worry - the glint of joy he'd inherited from them both seemed to be fading more often than they'd like.
"That's okay. You know he's always welcome."
With that, Tooru stepped away from the living room threshold and made his way upstairs, the absence of Hajime making it clear that he'd already made his way up. And, as he'd suspected, his bedroom door was open. Padding through the vacant doorway, he spotted Hajime already comfortable on his bed, his house slippers set aside on the floor.
"Hey," he murmured, setting his phone down on the covers. "I've texted my parents. C'mere."
Tooru didn't hesitate. He closed the door carefully behind himself, kicking off his own house slippers and practically bounding into his bed beside Hajime. He immediately snaked his legs around one of the other boy's thighs, his arms wrapping around his torso under his shoulders. He didn't care for the fact that he was still in his uniform - all he focused on was finding the most comfortable way to cuddle his boyfriend. He buried his face into Hajime's neck, huffing out his excess breath before inhaling deeply. He always found the faint scent of Hajime's skin comforting - he smelled like home. Even when his cologne faded.
He closed his eyes, relishing in the comfort of the moment. He couldn't have asked for anything better - warm in bed, snuggled up to the person he adored the most - what more could he possibly request?
"Oi, Tooru, go change," Hajime soon grumbled, breaking the silence. Tooru couldn't resist the chance at a pitiful retort, and he took it in complete stride.
"But I'm so tired..." he whined, dramatically jutting out his lower lip. "And you're not changed either.."
"Yeah, 'cause it's not my house."
"You know I've got plenty of clothes that fit you, stupid."
Despite his half-hearted gripes, Tooru did roll out of bed and shuffle towards his closet. He was already missing the comfort of Hajime's body against his own, even if he was about to return to hm in a minute or so, but the discomfort of a uniform worn through practice was enough to motivate him.
"Hey, take some of my clothes," he offered, though he didn't expect Hajime to say no anyway. Rifling through his messy drawers, he produced an old, oversized shirt and a pair of sleeping shorts and tossed them in Hajime's direction. He couldn't bite back the snicker in his throat when they landed square on his boyfriend's head.
"Oops."
The other boy rolled his eyes, though the smile creeping up on his face betrayed his irritation. He stood up and pulled his shirt over his head, folding it up and setting it aside on the floor. Despite his usual brashness, he was always courteous when it came to his own belongings in someone else's house. Even if he stayed at Tooru's for a similar amount of time he spent in his own home.
Tooru did the same - neither of them cared about getting changed in each other's presence. They'd got to the point in their relationship where it'd been too long to stay awkward, so the fact that they were changing their clothes practically together didn't cross either mind in the room.
Once they had both left their uniforms discarded (Hajime's more neatly than Tooru's) on the floor, they were immediately back in bed. Hajime was more insistent on holding Tooru close this time, curling an arm around the other boy's waist and holding on tightly enough to make the presence of his hand known. A faint smile of content made its way onto Tooru's lips in response, and he took the gentle yet acknowledgeable hold as a cue to move closer - if that was even possible. He was close enough that he'd be mistaken for moulding into Hajime's body completely, and if he was any bigger he'd probably crush him.
Hajime didn't dare to adjust his position. The quiet of the room complemented the tranquillity of both of their thoughts, but especially Tooru's - for once, he wasn't overanalysing the day in his head, nit-picking every step he'd taken or every time he'd set a ball. He was content to exist without the guilt tonight, content just to lay there with the boy he used to only dream of.
Neither of them moved when they heard the muffled footsteps of Tooru's parents heading upstairs to retire for the night - they used to do that, and Tooru often shoved Hajime out of his bed and onto the floor so neither of them would be suspected of anything that was more than platonic - but now, they didn't have to. Even if they had the energy, they wouldn't bother. Nor were they interrupted - Tooru's parents had learned their own habit by then, too, and that was not to disturb the pair of them when they were together. They deserved all of the precious time they could get away from the prying eyes of their teams and their rivals.
None of them knew what would happen if their relationship was revealed to the rest of the world. None of them cared enough to try and reveal it. What did it matter? It wasn't anyone else's business.
"Tooru," Hajime eventually whispered, his eyes barely open. "C'mere."
Tooru responded with a frazzled hum and slowly shifted upwards, his face levelling with his boyfriend's. Once they locked eyes, there was only a moment of thought between them before their breath mixed. Their lips touched with a gentle, sleepy motion, without lust but encapsulated in a deep, feeling love. They didn't take it further than a kiss, and held nothing more than each other's faces, but it was intimate enough to raise their spirits and wind their bodies down to the quiet of the night.
They didn't break away for air for a while, and it was only when Hajime felt a drop of something cold against his cheek did he crack his eyes open. He wasn't sure if Tooru was aware or not, but he was crying. His tears glinted in the slit of moonlight that had managed to sliver its way through the curtains, the shimmer of them almost audible as they slid down his face and fell gently against Hajime's skin. A small, sharp breath punctuated their careful kiss before Hajime could stop it - causing Tooru to pause.
Hajime took the second of hesitation to pull away, ensuring eye contact with his boyfriend.
"Hey. You're crying," he murmured, his eyes wide with concern. His hand, which had been carefully holding the side of Tooru's head, tightened slightly - his thumb carefully brushing the moisture from his eyelids.
"What's the matter?"
Tooru froze instinctively, his own eyes widening as the weight of his emotions fully struck him. He was crying - he hadn't even realised, he'd been so caught up in the closeness of his boyfriend that the final crash of his upset had come over in a giant wave. Now it was acknowledged, he couldn't hold it back. The familiar, short-lived ache of tears welling up in his eyes began to blare, and it wasn't long before he let them fall. His shoulders jolted slightly as he fought back the noise of a sob, a sharp, high noise escaping his throat.
Within mere seconds, Hajime pulled him down to rest his face against his shoulder, muffling his cries and providing him with a sanctuary. The gentle hold on the back of his head was enough to break his defences - Tooru broke down, shakily reaching up and draping his fingers over the oversized shirt he'd lent his partner. He was so exhausted he couldn't even tell why he was crying - he supposed it was just the weight of the day. He wasn't someone who was easily hurt, really. He could handle pretty much anything. Yet, something so small such as having noticed a poster for the upcoming Seijoh vs. Karasuno match while walking home had been enough to make him cry tonight.
At this point, he couldn't help but feel. He'd been unmatched ever since middle school, the greatest setter and one of the best players - but when faced with that stupid underclassman with his stupid natural talent, he had nothing. He had no talent himself, so how could he compete? Natural talent always beat out hard work, no matter what. He'd never reach the same level as Kageyama, no matter how many years he dedicated to volleyball.
Hajime could feel the self-loathing radiating off of Tooru in waves as he cried. Admittedly, he had to hold himself back from letting a tear escape his own eyes. Despite his usual outward brashness and unshakable demeanour, it wasn't easy on him, either - seeing his boyfriend break down so constantly and belittle himself over every movement just because some junior had come in with natural talent and seemed to be better than him. It irritated him to the point that whenever he saw the little twerp, he had to resist the urge to shout in his face about how much of an insensitive idiot he was to try and damage Tooru's mental state like that when it was already crumbling -
Stop.
It wasn't the time to think about Kageyama. Not when his boyfriend was having a breakdown in his arms. So, he switched his attention from what he could do to that junior to what he was going to do - comfort Tooru. He rested his head atop the other boy's, his large hand against the back of his head gently fiddling with the soft brown locks with enough strength to provide comforting pressure without causing pain. His other hand gently snaked around Tooru's waist, occasionally providing gentle squeezes to his side to ground him and remind him that above all else, he was here. With him, in his house, comfortable and safe to let out anything that was building up within.
"You're gonna be fine," he murmured, knowing he wouldn't be heard. He said it half for Tooru and half for himself - just to keep himself sane. When your boyfriend cries over the same thing almost every day, it's hard not to go insane with worry.
"You're fine. It's okay."
He remained whispering quiet nothings against Tooru's hair until the other boy cried himself exhausted - and the slow evening out of his breath was a metronomic lullaby to Hajime's own thoughts, which quickly dwindled into darkness as his energy slipped away, his eyes closed, and he succumbed to his tiredness.