It starts off, like so many things in Tobio’s life seem to, with a ball.
Just when he thinks that maybe he's starting to get a handle on this whole being a single dad thing something comes lurching out of the shadows of his past and throws his whole life into chaos.
Good thing he's got his family there to back him up.
a birthday gift for the wonderful @notsuchasecret cause they’re amazing and wonderful and deserve all the nice things and this is the best i can do in terms of that
“Kageyama, you’re not ignoring me are you?” Kunimi asks, and he moves to prop himself up on his elbow. A slender finger moves around the spine of the magazine to push it down and out of the way. “You know I know how to get your attention right?” Kunimi asks, moves his finger against Kageyama’s chest. Kageyama blushes and stiffens; he knows what Kunimi is referring to. Kunimi leans over and kisses Kageyama, more than just a chaste kiss, something slow and smooth. It wasn’t rushed or hungry, it was soft and Kageyama loved kisses like this, kisses from Kunimi. When Kunimi pulled away. Kageyama chased him, and Kunimi smiled. Kageyama lets his head fall against the mattress again.”
@hqrarepairexchange
For @kinkunikageweek
Day 1 - Separation
Day 2 - Growth
Day 3 - Healing
Day 4 - Strength
Day 5 - Creature
It was meant as a gift for Kunimi, who had done so much for them over the past few years and deserved some token of gratitude. Kunimi loved cats, probably more than he loved nine out of ten of the people he knew. So now that things were a bit more financially stable with Yuutarou out of school and working at last, he and Kageyama both agreed it was time to get a pet for Kunimi.
The problem was, Yuutarou hadn’t counted on how much Kageyama loved cats as well. They had been in the shelter for two hours now while Kageyama cooed at each and every creature he came across. Most of the cats were indifferent to him, which for some reason made him beam.
“When I was a kid, they all hated me,” he said. “Now they just ignore me. It’s better.”
“Good,” Yuutarou said. “If it ignores you, that means it’ll be more likely to love Akira, which is what we’re going for.”
“Maybe we should have brought him to do this with us,” said Kageyama uncertainly. Yuutarou shook his head.
“He’d be overwhelmed,” he said. “And besides, all cats love Akira. We need to find one that gets along with the two of us.” Kageyama nodded, new determination filling his face. He turned and marched up the hallway to the next set of cages and started considering the cats there.
In the end, it took nearly four hours to find her, in the very last room of the shelter. She sat primly in her cage, watching them with big blue eyes that seemed so achingly familiar. Yuutarou reached up a hand and she sniffed at it daintily, then brushed her cheek against it and started purring.
“Oh my god,” Yuutarou whispered. “I love you.”
“That’s Princess,” said the exhausted shelter worker who had been pouring over every cat in the shelter with them. “She was just brought in a few months ago, with a litter. The kittens are all gone, but no one’s seemed to be able to get her attention, so she’s still here. I’ve never seen her so affectionate before.”
“Maybe she was waiting for us,” said Kageyama. Yuutarou grinned and opened the cage to lift the purring bundle into his arms. Kageyama held up a hand to let her sniff at his fingers. “Hello, Princess,” he said quietly. “Would you like to come home with us?”
-
Kageyama was waiting with the Polaroid camera when Kunimi came home. Kunimi eyed him warily but didn’t say a word as he took off his shoes and his coat and stepped into the apartment. Kageyama stayed carefully in front of him as he made his way into the living room, only to stop dead when he caught sight of Yuutarou on the couch.
“Is that-” he breathed, then all at once launched himself forward. Princess purred louder as he scooped her up and cradled her close, and Kageyama took the picture. He padded off with the picture, probably to hang it up in their collage. Yuutarou turned his attention back to Kunimi.
“Her name is Princess,” he said. “She’s two years old, and she’s yours.”
“I love her,” Kunimi wailed into Princess’s fur. “I love her so much thank you.”
“Anything for you, Akira,” Yuutarou said. Kunimi pitched sideways until he was tucked up against Yuutarou’s side. Kageyama returned a moment later and cuddled up to Yuutarou’s other side with a content smile on his face. Yuutarou wrapped his arms around them both and smiled. He had his family in his arms, and nothing else mattered.
Kageyama never smiled in photos. It was such a little thing, but it bothered Akira. Sure, it was easy to tell he was happy, from the light in his eyes and the blush on his cheeks, but a smile would be nice every now and then.
Especially because Kageyama did smile, fleeting, uncertain little things tucked here and there when he wasn’t paying attention. Akira thrived off of those smiles, more than he cared to admit. The problem was, he hadn’t seen one in weeks. He hadn’t seen any of Kageyama in weeks.
“Look, he’s smiling in this one,” said Kindaichi, drawing Akira far enough out of his mope to look at the picture on his phone.
“That’s not a smile, it’s a grimace. He’d eaten a bad meat bun, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.” Kindaichi went back to scrolling through his phone and Akira went back to moping. They had made the decision together that they were going to pick universities based on the programs that were best for each of them, not on the idea that they could all be together. They hadn’t even told each other where they had applied until they made their final decisions. It had just been a trick of fate that Kindaichi and Akira had ended up in schools close enough to share an apartment while Kageyama was halfway across the country. They were only a few weeks into their second semester, but Akira was ready for graduation.
Anything to bring Kageyama home to them.
As Akira sulked, Kindaichi got a call and stepped out into the hallway to take it. He reappeared a moment later, stuffing his feet into shoes and slipping out the front door. Akira assumed it was the food they had ordered and settled in to wait. A moment later, his phone rang.
“What, did you get lost?” he answered.
“Funny,” Kindaichi said. “Can you come out here, though? I need your help with something.”
“How much food did you order?” Akira asked as he shoved himself to his feet.
“Enough,” Kindaichi hedged. Akira rolled his eyes.
“All right, I’m coming,” he grumbled. “But this had better be the best damn takeout we’ve ever had.”
Kindaichi hung up. Akira blinked in surprise; Kindaichi never hung up without saying I love you first. He shook his head and opened the door-
-and walked right into Kageyama.
“Hello to you too,” said Kageyama, wrapping his arms around Akira to steady them both. Akira jerked back to look up at him, not sure that he was really seeing him. Then he launched himself forward and knocked them both to the ground.
“You’re here,” he breathed into the fabric of Kageyama’s shirt.
“I’m here,” Kageyama whispered into Akira’s hair. “I’ve got a whole week before I need to go back.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Akira demanded.
“Because it was supposed to be a surprise,” said Kindaichi.
“You’re an ass,” Akira snapped. “You both are.”
“We are,” Kageyama agreed, holding Akira tighter.
“We’re your asses,” said Kindaichi.
“That just sounds wrong,” said Kageyama.
Akira said nothing, too caught up in the perfection of the moment. Kageyama nuzzled his hair and he could hear the electronic sound of Kindaichi’s camera going off. He hoped that the picture had captured the smile he could see blossoming on Kageyama’s face, then decided he didn’t care. As long as he got to see the smile, nothing else mattered.
For @kinkunikageweek
Day 1 - Separation
Day 2 - Growth
Tobio sat in the middle of a sea of photographs waiting to be put in their new homes in the photo album, but he ignored them all in favor of one. It was a picture of Kindaichi, Kunimi, and himself, back in their first year of middle school. They were all laughing at something Tobio couldn’t remember, happy just to be there and be together. It was long before the fissure between them had started to grow, before everything had turned bad.
It was Tobio’s favorite picture.
It was remarkable, really, to see how far they had come. Not one of the boys in the picture would recognize themselves now, three years into university and a world away from who they had been. Not after everything they had gone through.
“How goes it?” asked a voice from the doorway. Tobio looked up to see Kindaichi leaning against the wall, smirking at him. “I see you’ve made lots of progress.”
“Shut up,” muttered Tobio, looking away as heat flooded his cheeks. Kindaichi chuckled and picked his way over to sit behind Tobio. He wrapped his arms around Tobio’s waist and leaned his chin on his shoulder.
“I remember that day,” he said softly. His breath tickled Tobio’s collar bone and made him shiver.
“I don’t,” Tobio admitted. Kindaichi hummed and took the photo from him.
“We were laughing at Oikawa-san,” he said. “He had just gotten his foot stuck in the net.”
“How-”
“I don’t know,” Kindaichi said. “I only saw the aftermath.” He paused, considering the picture. “Akira was taller than you then.”
“He was taller than me until our third year of high school,” Tobio said. “I can’t decide where to put this.” Kindaichi flipped through the album, looking at the organization Tobio had already given it. He paused at the first page.
“There’re two spaces here,” he said.
“Yeah, I’m not sure what to put there.” Kindaichi let go of Tobio to start shuffling through the stacks of photos scattered around them. For a long time it was the only sound in the room. Then with a quiet ah, Kindaichi pulled out what he had been looking for.
“There,” he said, slipping the picture from middle school into one of the empty spots. Into the other, he put a picture from the last time Tobio had visited, when Iwaizumi had come to visit and been appalled at their combined lack of ability to cook anything. It had been a good day, and Iwaizumi had managed to get a picture of all three of them laughing. Tobio thought that perhaps he had been wrong, and this was his favorite picture instead.
“That’s…” Tobio trailed off, not sure how to put what he was feeling into words. Kindaichi seemed to understand, in a way he had been developing lately, and pressed a kiss to the back to Tobio’s neck.
“We’ve come a long way,” he said.
“Yeah,” said Tobio, staring at the two pictures. “Yeah, we have.”
Kunimi found them there some hours later, the album forgotten in favor of looking through the photographs and laughing at one another. He rolled his eyes at them both, but joined them on the floor and helped to clean up the mess they had made. At the end of the day there were still too many photos without homes, piled haphazardly into a shoe box and stuffed into the closet. But there was also one completed photo album, fronted by Tobio’s two favorite pictures.
