catharsis -- kagehina
ao3
masterlist
summary: Kageyama thought he wouldn't be able to withstand another instance of that bullcrap; watching helplessly as Hinata worked himself ragged, to the point of no return. Him left to guide his stupid, idiotic, dumb boyfriend from the gym, demanded by the coach to leave practice and rest. Another incident, another accident, another collapse. Were they nothing to Hinata? Well, they surely boiled Kageyama's blood, and each minute stacked another pressure and worry on his shoulders. There was no way he could do this again. And yet, here he was, waiting in the clubroom, Hinata, tears streaming down his face as coughs and tremors wracked his frighteningly frail body, enveloped in his arms.
notes: omg posting again after only 6 days??? literally feels like it was a month ago, what's goin on? quarantine got all time flow messed up (❁°͈▵°͈) anywho! pls enjoy!
Kageyama tugged at a fistful of his raven hair, stray strands tickling his face as a sigh forced itself from his chest. He swallowed thickly, feeling a shudder run through him. He couldn’t decide whether to be angry at Hinata or concerned for Hinata. “You’re exhausting, you know?” He supposed for now he would settle for exasperated.
His grip loosened and he gazed up at Hinata, his expression softening. He extended a hand to brush damp bangs, ratty and knotted, from the boy’s face. Even if he wanted to, it would be impossible to stay mad at him.
“I-I know,” the redhead hicced, his shoulders trembling as tears pooled on the tips of his light eyelashes and in the corners of his downcast eyes, “I’m s-sorry.” Kageyama’s brows furrowed, that aching desire to just make it better smothering everything in reach as he took a steadying breath.
“No, don’t apologize.” He rolled his shoulders to ease the growing tension, and from his crouch on the clubroom’s tatami mats, he reached up to massage Hinata’s jumping legs. The small desk chair the blocker rested in shook with him, and Kageyama’s mouth flattened into a frown.
A small sniffle caught his attention and his head jerked upward to stare at his boyfriend, “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” With his heart rate spiking, Kageyama’s free hand cupped his cheek, thumbing away the stray tears. The setter bit at his bottom lip, each swipe of his finger mounting a treacherous apprehension on his shoulders, constricting his heart until he couldn’t breathe from the ache.
His efforts proved futile to calm Hinata; the tears quickly carving streaks into his crestfallen face.
Releasing Hinata, Kageyama promptly delved into his duffle bag in search of something, hands fumbling with an uneasiness that threatened to choke him out -- he was no good in these situations. Triumphantly, he yanked out a wrinkled sweatshirt, thrusting it abruptly into Hinata’s lap. He helped him tug it on immediately, movements frenzied and yet cautious, until the smaller boy was engulfed by the folds and his quivering hands disappeared into the sleeves. Kageyama’s lips formed a grim line as he approached the spiker, his arms wrapping around the boy’s shoulders limply. Bending, he planted a kiss on the crown of his head, the tangled hair irritating his nose, as he whispered soothing words. Even if this wasn’t his area of expertise, per say, Kageyama would do all in his physical capabilities for Hinata. “Soon; she’ll be here soon.”
Hinata simply clutched to Kageyama, the other’s t-shirt scrunching in his fierce hold as small cries racked his body. Each congested sound pierced Kageyama’s heart, and he could only pray his mother would arrive soon.
Eventually, they moved to slump against the wall of the clubroom, Hinata’s whimpers pacified long enough for him to settle and his breaths to even out as he rested in Kageyama’s lap. The setter let his eyes drift closed, his head thudding once against the wall, as he traced familiar shapes onto the small of Hinata’s back.
He exhaled harshly, his own bout of exhaustion coursing through his body, sore from practice and left drained by his all-consuming concern. He took a moment to drag his hand down his face, digging the edge of his palm into his eye-socket. After a moment, his arm fell slack, resuming it’s ministrations on the material of his own sweatshirt on Hinata’s hot skin. His heart swelled at the sight of his boyfriend’s face; face flushed, lips parted as small gasps squeaked through. “Oi, what am I going to do with you?” He kissed his forehead, sweltering with a raging fever. His normally impassive (Hinata would call it angry, but he begged to differ) expression teasing at a small smile as his heart swelled.
Deep breaths passed through Kageyama, relaxed by the weight on his chest and the tantalizing extension of sleep. His hands stalled mid motion, and he wrapped them tighter around Hinata’s waist -- who would care if he took just a few minutes to close his eyes?
His phone buzzed erratically in his pocket of his shorts, pulling a groan from deep in his throat. Shifting Hinata in his lap, careful to not rouse him, his hands clasped around his cell, accepting the call and carelessly pressing it to his ear. “Hello?” He was so close to falling blissfully asleep.
“Tobio, I’m here.” He never really thought that he would be excited to hear his mother’s deadpan, authoritative, and vaguely annoyed voice especially when she’d interrupted his sleep, but here he was. He didn’t answer into the line, quickly disconnecting the call (something he would probably be reprimanded for later), slipping his phone back into his pocket.
I can do this, he reassured himself, one arm maneuvering to snake underneath the bend of Hinata’s knees. Swallowing, he eased himself from the ground, thighs protesting slightly at the extra weight. He cradled Hinata to his chest, careful to avoid jostling him too much.
His breath hitched panickedly at the small noise of protest Hinata made, but the spiker fell motionless aside from the small twitches of his closed eyelids. Some of the tightness left Kageyama’s body. Let’s do this; he steeled his nerves, slinging their bags over his shoulders. He stepped outside of the clubroom.
At some point during the car ride, perhaps when they were travelling over the crests and troughs of the hills or following the slithering turns of the mountain roads, Hinata stirred with a start. Gasping, he called aimlessly for Kageyama -- from the front seat, Kageyama angled his body to place a comforting hand on his boyfriend’s hip.
“Hey, now, it’s okay.”
Two tired eyes, the color hazed and swirling like melted caramel, slowly rose to meet his own. “Mmm,” Hinata moaned, shuddering and curling tighter on the car’s bench seat. Desperately, he grasped at Kageyama’s hand, holding it to his chest, rising and falling with each shaky breath.
Turning briefly to glance at his mom, her face unreadable as she casually turned the wheel, Kageyama asked, “Hey, mom, when will we be there?” After her terse answer, Kageyama echoed to Hinata (and to himself, perhaps), “Just five minutes, Shouyou.”
Kageyama received no response aside from wet coughs and stuttering breaths. God, when did he get like this? How could I let him get like this? Kageyama cursed himself. He could feel a headache blossoming across the crown of his head, pushing at his temples and leaving his mind muddled aside from the obnoxious anxiety pecking, pecking, pecking at his thoughts.
His shoulder, arm stretched uncomfortably, twinged with pain. Kageyama grunted, unbuckling his seat belt and moving to clamber into the back seat, long legs sliding over the center console. Next to him, his mother made a small hmph, but said nothing, attention focused on the dark roads of the mountainside.
Back bent uncomfortably to squat in the car, Kageyama took a seat and placed Hinata’s head in his lap. His presence, and perhaps warmth, seemed to hinder some of the shivers of the other boy. One hand came to rest on his side, the other carding through Hinata’s hair, gently combing out the small, intricate knots integrated into the forever untamed orange locks. He couldn’t be bothered by it tickling his skin. His eyebrows pressed closer; if this was all he could do for Hinata, what kind of boyfriend was he?
The boy beneath him shifted, clicking his tongue. His voice, dry and hoarse, but still ultimately heaven to Kageyama’s ears, wedged into Kageyama’s stupor. “Hey,” he tried before clearing his throat, coughing weakly once, “Thanks, Tobio.”
His chest puffing with his next inhale, warmth brushing the tips of his ears, Kageyama replied, “Well, of course.” His fingernails gently scratched against Hinata’s scalp -- a keening noise slipped past his pale lips, sending a twitch through Kageyama’s spine. “We’ll be there soon, okay?”
Hinata hummed feebly, turning into Kageyama as another wave of tremors wracked his frame. He really is an idiot, Kageyama thought fondly.
Still, disquiet disturbed the affection in his heart, leaving him with traitorous butterflies flitting in his gut and chest.
With Hinata’s arm thrown over his broad shoulder, his own arm wrapped protectively (perhaps overly so) around his waist, Kageyama toed open the door to the Hinata household, the door swinging open with a disconcerting screech. He stumbled to again lock the door, but managed to arrive safely in the dark entryway. With a grimace, Kageyama eased Hinata onto the ledge of the entrance, watching as he swayed haphazardly. Heart racing, each beat nearly gagging him, Kageyama’s hands flew to latch onto Hinata’s elbows, bracing him. His teeth ground together at the confused look Hinata sent him.
“Hey, I need you to support yourself for just a second, okay, Shou?” A weak nod in return -- one that Kageyama couldn’t fully trust. Testing the waters, he released his hold on Hinata; Kageyama began to untie and slip off the sneakers (so small; he was so small) on Hinata’s feet. His hands remained tense, the tendons flexing underneath the skin, ready to launch up to grab him again if need be.
“‘Kay,” he breathed, slipping an arm underneath Hinata’s armpit. He pulled them up together, helping Hinata step onto the hardwood floor. He watched as he shuddered from the cold. With fervor and haste, Kageyama stomped on the heels of his own shoes (he realized he hadn’t changed from his volleyball shoes -- Daichi would kill him) and yanked his feet out, socks left behind in the commotion.
“Do you want to take a bath?” he asked, guiding Hinata through his own house, his small feet sliding unsurely on the floor. He’s so out of it. Hinata’s eyes drifted from object to object, appearing almost confused by the home he had grown up in before Kageyama growled under his breath and repeated the question, “Hey, do you want to bathe?”
Eventually, they reached the couch -- thank the lord -- and Kageyama situated Hinata against the armrest, throwing a blanket over his quivering body. Sighing, he told him, “I’ll let you think about it, okay. Don’t fall asleep, I’ll be back in a second.” He left a fleeting kiss against his cheek, hot and wet from earlier.
Gnawing at the inside of his lip, Kageyama dug through the kitchen medicine cabinet for a thermometer, ears fine-tuned to listen into the living room. He found a bottle of ibuprofen during the quest, stowing it in his pocket for later. A gasp pushed past his lips as his hand wrapped around a thermometer, hidden deep in the back of the cabinet. Quickly, he slammed the door shut. After fetching a small glass, he filled it up with tap water from the sink, water splashing onto the countertop. Urgency pricked at his mind, his pulse quickening as he threw a towel on the mess, beginning to wipe the counter--
There was a crash.
Eyes widening, he rushed to the living room, mess left forgotten behind. On the steps to the second floor, Hinata, hand reaching desperately for the banister above the stairs. Coughs left his body quivering, shoulders hitching with each breath. It was like a bullet to the chest.
“Idiot!” Kageyama cried, slamming the cup onto the couch side table. He barrelled towards Hinata, demanding his heart not to burst through his chest and onto the wooden panels of the floor. “Hey, what were you thinking?! I told you not to move!” In his arms, he turned over Hinata, collapsed with perspiration spotting his face and neck, lifting his head towards his chest. He couldn’t help but curl over him protectively, hands finding their home on his shoulder. “Shouyou! Answer me!”
He flinched, and Kageyama’s eyes dilated with horror. Why is this so hard -- why does he make it so hard? “Sorry, sorry,” he moaned, voice shaking. His breaths, meant to be a calm example for Hinata, sped, distressed huffs of air. A hand gripped at his forearm, and he stared down at his boyfriend, his expression exhausted and yet soothing. “R-right,” Kageyama exhaled, sitting a touch straighter.
“So, how about we take a bath.” It wasn’t a question.
“Okay, I’m going to take your temperature now,” Kageyama relayed, pushing Hinata’s bangs from his forehead to get a good look at his dazed eyes. He stuck the thermometer underneath Hinata’s tongue, and guided the boy’s hand to latch onto the stick, holding secure. “Hold that there; I’ll be right back,” he called behind him, leaving him slumped on the closed toilet, wrapped in just a towel.
Strides wide and rushed, Kageyama bounded down the staircase, veering off at the bottom to snatch the glass he had left on the couch-side table. Already fearing what may have happened while Hinata was left unintended, he leapt up the steps, fear clutching at his heart. “Okay, I’m back,” his voice was slightly breathless as he pushed open the bathroom door.
“Hi,” Hinata slurred, a loopy smile stretching his lips. He hummed absently, the thermometer in his mouth bordering on falling to the tile. The towel Kageyama had so carefully secured around his body was beginning to droop off his shaking shoulders.
“Oi, idiot, I told you to hold onto that thermometer,” Kageyama strode over, crossing his arms over his chest. He pulled the device away and restarted it. “Here, we’ve gotta do it again.” Hinata blinked up at him, his mouth smacking closed after he had the thermometer, that slanted grin still teasing Kageyama -- he narrowed his eyes down at his boyfriend, one hand adjusting the blue towel around Hinata.
After half a minute, a series of beeps cued Kageyama to take the thermometer back. “Mm,” he read, “38.4.” He looked pointedly at Hinata, “Not good, Shou.” He received a half hearted shrug and tempting pout in response. “How many times do I have to tell you to, you know, not push yourself to the point of exhaustion and sickness?” Kageyama lamented, shuffling over to the bathtub to start the water. “How warm?”
A small cough, “I don’t know? A nice temperature, I guess?”
“Right, sure, makes perfect sense,” Kageyama rolled his eyes, testing the water on the inside of his wrist. He clicked his tongue, satisfied. After stopping the plug and adding a generous amount of lavender bubble bath (maybe Hinata’s, maybe his little sister’s), Kageyama turned back to his boyfriend, watching unhappily as his eyelids slid closed -- snapping open, then falling closed for several seconds, then open again, rinse and repeat.
Soon, he was in front of Hinata, letting the other boy slump his head against his stomach with a small, forced laugh. He threaded his long fingers through the fiery locks, once again working out new knots that he had no idea as to how they appeared. “Seriously, you’ve got to stop doing this, Shou.”
Hinata groaned, twitching uncomfortably, “I know, Tobio; I know.” He breathed haughtily, “Or I won’t be useful on the court, right?” His voice broke halfway, and Kageyama could feel his body tense. The sound of gushing bath water melded with the thunder of blood rushing in Kageyama’s ears.
“What?!” Kageyama bellowed, before consciously lowering his voice. Easily, he lowered to a kneel, and cupped Hinata’s cheeks, “I-- I never said that, Shouyou.” Silence. “I never even thought that, not once.” He took a steadying breath, his words sticking to his tongue like overcooked rice. Carefully, “Obviously, when you wear yourself to the ground -- especially when you’re sick! -- but regardless, it doesn’t help with our play.” Hinata’s face fell. “But, Shouyou, that’s not what’s important to me. I wouldn’t care if you couldn’t play volleyball at all, but I can’t stand seeing you do this to yourself -- working yourself ragged.” His words were no longer hesitant as he spoke next, “I love you, and I need you to take care of yourself. I want to see you happy and healthy.”
Hinata gaped at him, despite the ever-present distance in his eyes. Kageyama tugged a hand through his own hair, cheeks red. I never feel confident during times like this. Bashfully, he glared holes into the bathroom tiles.
A body came crashing onto his, two arms slinking around his shoulders. Struggling to maintain his balance, Kageyama cried shrilly, “Hinata, don’t hug me! You’re nearly naked!” He fell onto his rump, grimacing at the impact. He wrapped his arms around Hinata’s waist anyway, tucking his face into the junction between Hinata’s neck and shoulder. He planted a feather-light kiss there.
“Oh, like you care,” Hinata laughed, his croaky voice cracking every syllable. He left a sloppy, wet kiss on Kageyama’s forehead, then on each cheek, his nose, and lastly, his protesting lips.
“You’re going to get me sick!”
Hinata, bubbly giggles tumbling from his lips, peppered more kisses on Kageyama’s face, ignoring his half-hearted insults and whining.
“Ugh, let’s just get you in the bath; it’s nearly overflowing.” Kageyama moaned, resigning with hands raised in surrender. “Unless you want to pay for new flooring.”
Hinata laughed at his attempt at a jab (or joke; they were almost the same when it came to Kageyama), and used the wall to lift himself off of his boyfriend. “‘Kay,” he sang, sounding like his throat was in ribbons. Somehow, the towel was still secured around his shoulders.
He let Kageyama ease him into the tub, the other grumbling the whole process, complaining about how he would certainly fall ill now. As he sank into the bath, the water soothed his body, spent from the little tussle. His eyes were unfocused and closed as he fell deeper into the water, the bubbles tickling at his collarbone.
“Hey, turn for me; I’m going to wash your nasty hair,” Kageyama spat, still pretending to be bitter from earlier. Hinata mumbled something incoherently, listlessly allowing himself to be moved by Kageyama’s strong hands.
Those same hands were soon entangled in his hair, working shampoo smelling of coconut into a lather. He hummed contently, relaxing into Kageyama’s touch. “Hey, don’t fall asleep, Shou.” More muffled words, nonsense to Kageyama’s ears. He let him slump against his arms -- he was light enough to support, anyway.
“Okay, close your eyes, I’m going to rinse now.” He peered over Hinata’s shoulder. “Oh,” he breathed, “Your eyes are closed.” Hinata’s chest rattled with a laugh. With one hand tenderly cupped at his hairline, Kageyama steadily poured a cup of water -- regrettably soapy from the bubble bath -- over his hair. He did it three more times, and concluded with a toss of Hinata’s orange mop of locks. “All done.”
Hinata’s hands claspped together limply, applauding weakly, a small curl to his lips. Water splashed between them, still slightly submerged. “Oi,” Kageyama warned, ruffling Hinata’s hair again. He dipped his hand in the water and lightly smacked Hinata on the shoulder, leaving a mountain of bubbles. “I’ll be back; don’t drown.” He left the room, sparing a glance behind his shoulder.
Sauntering into Hinata’s room across the hall, the balls of his feet aching from practice, Kageyama assigned himself to unmaking the bed. He considered himself fortunate for knowing which pillows and stuffed animals Hinata slept with specifically -- if he were to forget that old lion stuffed animal, Hinata would whine and complain until he had it in his grabby little clutches.
After adjusting the three different blankets (it was crazy how easily Hinata got cold), Kageyama glanced around the room. Sitting conveniently on Hinata’s desk chair was a baby blue heating pad. Kageyama ambled across the room and tucked the pad underneath his arm.
After figuring out how the temperature gage worked on it (it was different from the one his mom had at home), he plugged it in and placed it carefully underneath the top sheet. He pursed his lips. Surely this is a fire hazard. He debated whether it was safe to put there, clearing various items from the floor -- a pair of shoes, a couple of his own sweatshirts (if Hinata wasn’t so sick, he would probably yell at him for it), a bag, and many mismatching socks strewn across the room.
He stilled for a moment.
It was far too silent across the hall.
Shouyou.
He flew across the hall, all worries regarding a fire gone, erased from memory. “Shouyou?!” He barged into the bathroom, ramming his shoulder into the door. What if he fell asleep and drowned?
Two caramel eyes floated up to him, unsuspecting and relaxed. “Yes?” he warbled, his minute motions stilling. The bubbles shifted around him, and in his hands, a rubber duck. “What’s wrong?”
Groaning, Kageyama threw his head into his palm, emotions tilting between relieved and exasperated. “I’m an idiot for worrying.” Hinata cast him a questioning look, his right index finger absently pushing the duck toy in the water. “Ugh, nothing,” Kageyama dismissed with a wave of his hand, trudging forwards.
“Are you ready to get out?”
“Yup!” He sounded far too chipper, Kageyama decided.
Soon enough, the bath’s stop was pulled, and the sudsy water began to drain. Offering an arm, which Hinata latched onto gratefully, Kageyama aided with the climb out, “And up we go.” Retrieving the towel, he softly shimmied the towel over his head, simultaneously flinging water everywhere and drying Hinata’s hair. His boyfriend grinned up at him cheekily. He flung the towel at Hinata, grumbling with pink cheeks, “You can dry yourself off.”
Hinata laughed, quavering and amused, and Kageyama couldn’t help but return a warm smile.
“I’ll go get you something to sleep in.”
Moments later, he returned with a fresh change of clothes (which of course included one of his own tees -- he couldn’t help it, it was like a guilty pleasure, seeing Hinata in his clothing). Hinata leant against the counter, bundled in his towel, a flourescent green toothbrush in his mouth. He mumbled a greeting around it, extending Kageyama’s own toothbrush (he always kept an extra at the Hinata household).
“Thanks,” Kageyama murmured, placing the small pile of clothes down. Two minutes later -- Hinata was very particular about dental hygiene for some reason -- they were finished, and Hinata was slipping on his change of attire while Kageyama rinsed his face and tidied up (as much as possible) the destroyed bathroom.
“Carry me?” Hinata implored, hand latching onto Kageyama’s sleeve, doe-eyes begging. They were still clouded with fever, face drained of color, but he swayed on the balls of his feet anyway.
“Shouyou, your room is literally 5 feet away,” Kageyama countered, voice sharp with mock-annoyance. But with another plea and pout, Kageyama was caught hook, line, and sinker. Securing his arms underneath Hinata’s legs, the spiker’s arms flung over his shoulders, Kageyama took his (their?) first step towards the bedroom, flicking the light switch on his way out.
He padded across the hallway and into Hinata’s room, before lowering his boyfriend, deceivingly tiny and thin, onto the twin bed. He set to digging through Hinata’s drawer, finding some clothes for himself while the other nuzzled into the comforter.
“It’s a good thing you always keep some clothes here, huh?” Hinata cooed from across the room, on top of and yet enveloped by the blankets and pillows (and, of course, Kageyama’s shirt). He watched sleepily, devoid of any readable emotion except mitigation, as Kageyama slipped on a new set of clothes for sleeping. He would just shower in the morning.
“Yeah,” Kageyama returned, making his way back to Hinata, who laid prone on the bed, eyes once again closed. While passing, he shut the door with a click and switched the lights off. “Hey, get under the covers.” He himself clambered underneath the sheets, lifting them up for Hinata to join him.
On hands and knees, Hinata advanced sluggishly, immediately clinging to Kageyama’s side. “Mm, so warm,” he drawled, unaware of the heating pad beneath him, somehow. After tossing the blankets over them, Kageyama carefully maneuvered it, thanking his stars that they had avoided a fire in his panic.
Kageyama stole a relaxing inhale, feeling some of the pent-up stress leave his body. His arm instinctively slid underneath Hinata, still tucked into his side, and his hand knitted into Hinata’s hair. Next to him, lips moving against him, Hinata drawled, “You’re the best, Tobio. I love you.”
His heart surged, exhilarating waves of affection -- something stronger than those butterflies -- crashing into his stomach. With a wobbly smile, he pressed a kiss into Hinata’s hair. “I love you too, Shou. Forever.”
“Even if you’re an idiot.”
notes: idk what to say,,,? (๑ ˊ͈ ᐞ ˋ͈ )ƅ̋ mmm, maybe smth like this was another spontaneous project that i shouldn't have worked on but did?? hopefully i'll finish up my other pending story here soon and get some other stuff done before i start another random project adfjas;dlfjadsfjas;df pls i beg of u, future me pls let me know what u thought in the comments! tysm for reading!! <3 ꒰˘̩̩̩⌣˘̩̩̩๑꒱♡
