Something woke Kageyama in the middle of the night, and it wasn't a dream.

Groggily, he tried to figure out what in the hell was making noise at—he checked the clock on his nightstand—1:30 in the morning, wiping sleep from his eyes. Hinata was climbing clumsily from bed, his foot slipping from the rungs of the ladder and his body swaying with abnormal movement.

Is he drunk? Kageyama thought, his eyes wide on the boy moving slowly to the bathroom. Miffed, Kageyama rolled over in bed, cursing the fact that Hinata couldn't even take a piss without making a racket.

The toilet flushed.

The bathroom door opened again.

A body hit Kageyama's bed.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he hissed at Hinata, who had fallen beside him, grasping the comforter for warmth.

"Natsu's my cuddle buddy… forever… and always," came the delirious response, Hinata clearly still affected by whatever Tanaka had given him earlier. He was smiling, smiling as he snuggled closer to Kageyama, wrapping his arms around the boy's waist and curling his knees so they pressed against his side.

This. Is not. Okay, Kageyama thought, his mind screaming. He was annoyed, he was awake, but more than anything, he was blushing from the touch of the body at his side, warmth leeching into his skin, the sound of someone else breathing steadily beside him giving him goosebumps.

Kageyama had never shared a bed with anyone. He never had any siblings. Never been in a relationship. He didn't like being touched. When was the last time he'd even hugged someone?

So why was his heart beating so furiously? Why was Hinata in his bed? Again? Roommates were not supposed to have boundary issues like this. Or so he thought.

I'll just have to bear with it, he thought, gritting his teeth and trying to get comfortable. This required him to nudge his arm under Hinata's head, the feeling of hair and skin almost unbearable.

Nope, can't do it. Kageyama rolled on his side towards Hinata and tried to kick the boy out of his bunk. This just gave Hinata a firmer anchor and he pulled himself closer to Kageyama's chest.

"Natsu… go to sleep already."

How DARE you act annoyed at ME you brat! Kageyama hit him on the head, but it nothing more than interrupt Hinata's quiet snores for a moment.

Kageyama could not move—turning on his side had allowed Hintata's legs to slip under the covers and mingle with his own.

"Why are your feet so fucking cold?!" Kageyama whispered.

The rest of Hinata wasn't. Even in the darkness, his hair was its own, warm entity, tickling Kageyama's collarbone, the coarse curls distinctly different from his own. Hinata's hands, so secure around his waist, created nothing more than an oven in which Kageyama was baking, flustered, for a reason unknown to him.

Calm down, he told himself. He thinks you're his sister. But as soon as he took his mind away from the quiet breathing against his chest, the hands and legs all over him, his mind drifted to how soft Hinata's skin was against his own, how small his limbs were, how comforting it felt to have him tucked beside him, neatly, like a child's stuffed bear.

Similar to figuring out a new volleyball move, Kageyama debated how he could get comfortable, a scowl on his face.

Damn you, Tanaka, he seethed, one arm anchored behind tangerine-head, the other awkwardly at his side, as far away from Hinata as he could get it.

We have a match tomorrow. I can punch him in the morning. For the meantime, just be glad he's asleep.

Slowly, by inches, Kageyama tried to move his arm on top of Hinata to a position that was sleepable. Nothing felt right. Tugging at the boy's hands did not remove them from his waist. In fact, it only caused the Hinata to grasp harder, Kageyama's shirt rucking up in the process. It made Kageyama want to scream—the smell of him, the skin, all of it. He felt Hinata's calloused palms against his sides and wanted to rip his hair out. He finally gave up, rolling over onto his back to let Hinata use his left arm and chest as pillow. His roommate was cuddling him like a koala and his heart was throbbing because of it.

I have to get rid of this feeling.

When Hinata woke up, he was struck by an unfamiliar smell.

Blinking his eyes open and yawning, he thanked Tanaka for the dubious yet effective flask of whatever the hell he'd given him. That's when he saw that it wasn't the ceiling he was looking at, but underneath where he was supposed to be sleeping.

As for the smell, his nose had been pressed into Kageyama's back, who was lying on his side, facing the wall, and breathing steadily. Hinata realized he'd been holding the fabric of his teammate's t-shirt and let go, sitting up frantically.

He immediately hit his head on the two-by-fours above him. Grasping his hair and groaning, he didn't have time to think about how on earth he'd wound up where he was because Kageyama had shoved him to the floor.

"I have been waiting all night for the opportunity to do that," he growled, his voice thick with sleep.

"Wha—how—how did I end up in your bed?!"

Kageyama glared at Hinata, who had made no effort to pick himself off of the floor.

"You stumbled out of bed last night, waking me up in the process, and then fell right into my bed, thinking I was your sister and clinging to me like a five-year-old."

A blush swooped through Hinata's face as the blurry memory resurfaced.

"I couldn't kick you out to matter how hard I hit you." Kageyama sounded calm, but he looked murderous, his shiny hair sticking up on one side and his eyes narrowed to slits.

"I—I—I—it was an accident! I'm sorry! Please don't kill me before our first match, Kageyama."

Hinata was desperate, pleading on the ground like a fool. Kageyama clicked his tongue.

"You have your own bed for a reason, dumbass. It better not happen again."

Hinata nodded seriously, finally standing to his feet.

"Alright, let's get ready. The bus leaves soon," Kageyama said, getting out of bed and yawning. Hinata paled. He clutched his stomach.

"You're not still nervous are you?"

Hinata shook his head, but grew paler.

Kageyama huffed, running a hand through his disheveled hair, trying to think of something to say. "There's nothing to be afraid of. You'll get used to it."

Hinata frowned and went to his dresser, taking off his pj shirt (which had SpongeBob on it) and rummaging around to find his practice jersey. "That's something you would say," he huffed. "You've had plenty of matches. This is my first one, and I can be replaced."

At those last words, Hinata just about keeled over. "Oh man, I really don't wanna be replaced."

Kageyama realized his words were not comforting, only insulting—there were some things you could never get used to, like your roommate slowly getting comfortable changing in front of you, the sudden appearance of cream skin and freckles, a body that had been curled next to you the night before—

Kageyama hit his head on Hinata's bunk, using brute force to get the image from his mind. The noise made Hinata glance at him with a worried look. "Are you sure you're not nervous?"

"Everyone gets nervous," Kageyama muttered. "Just make sure you put on some pants, not my jacket."

Hinata blushed and focused on changing, turning away from Kageyama. Something about the angry boy's bed hair made his stomach feel funny (or was that just nerves)?

They packed their stuff up, Hinata throwing things into a duffle bag, muttering crazily under his breath, Kageyama folding things neatly and ticking things off of a mental checklist. It was quiet, but that was not unusual for them—as roommates, it was common to have periods of bickering followed by comfortable silence. Kageyama didn't want to say anything that would make Hinata's condition worsen, Daichi's warning still floating in his head, and he wanted to forget that he'd cuddled with Hinata last night as soon as possible. Silence was fine with him.

What had started out as worrisome turned into full-blown panic when the bus pulled into the parking lot of Aobajousai High School.

"Is this what I get for help you out last night?" Tanaka muttered, tying the plastic bag that now held his joggers. Hinata had thrown up on them. No one saw the situation getting any better from here.

"I'm so sorry," Hinata moaned, his hands on his stomach.

"I'm just joking, kid," Tanaka chuckled. "But try not to do it on the court. We're counting on you."

"Tanaka," Daichi hissed, but it was too late. Hinata looked green.

"What?"

"Don't pressure him!"

"Oh, right. I mean, do it like the 3-on-3 Hinata! Easy-peasy!"

This did not help. "I—I—I'll d—do my b—b—est!" Hinata's teeth chattered, his nerves on fire. He made an unpleasant noise. "I have to go to the bathroom."

"First the top, then the bottom. Busy guy," Tanaka said.

"That's it. I'm gonna knock some sense into him—" Kageyama growled, rolling up his sleeves, but Sugawara caught him by the arm.

"Are you crazy? That's not going to work."

"Then what will?" Kageyama said, a scowl on his face. He didn't want to admit it, but it frustrated him that he couldn't help. It was the first time he had cared enough to want to. Hinata had helped him with his nightmares in so many ways, and Kageyama hadn't even talked about them with him. There had to be a way he could repay him.

"It's been awhile, King," came a familiar voice. The team turned to a couple of Aobajousai players who were walking by the bus. One had black, spikey hair, like a turnip; the other had blond locks combed to the side.

Kageyama kept his face smooth as glass. "Yeah," he said. This calmness seemed to surprise them, but any reply was interrupted by Tanaka's aura. Daichi smacked him upside the head.

"See you on the court," Daichi said, always polite. "Thank you for inviting us."

The other two nodded and walked inside, not sure of what to make of what they just saw. Turnip-head clenched his fists. "Why is he pretending to be passive?"

When the match started on the court, it was a shit-show from the beginning.

Hinata received a ball that was clearly for Daichi, causing Kageyama to yell his head off immediately.

"Is that shrimp really a middle blocker?" Players from the other team were whispering amongst each other, and not quietly. "That's gotta be a mistake. He has no idea what he's doing."

And that's exactly what it looked like. Hinata was bumping into everyone. He was doing unthinkable things, making impossible plays. This guy is completely overwhelmed, Kageyama thought. He said he thought Hinata was a shitty player when they'd met, but this made his old style look like the work of an Olympian. When it came to be the tangerine-head's serve, everyone was on edge.

Hinata was trembling, his face the color of milk. If he missed, the set was over, and would be taken by the other team.

Don't blow it or Kageyama will murder you in your sleep, don't blow it or you'll be benched, don't blow it or you'll get kicked off the team—

The whistle blew and Hinata screeched, threw the ball into the air, and smashed it into the back of Kageyama's head.

Time stopped.

Hinata felt his blood freeze. He felt his soul escape him. The other side of the court had erupted with laughter, but all he could focus on was his roommate.

Kageyama turned to face him, turned and started walking towards Hinata with his hair cast down over his face. Hinata started sweating. "Wait, Kageyama, we can talk this over, you don't have to kill me—"

Kageyama walked until he was two inches from Hinata's face. When he spoke, his voice was surprisingly calm. Too calm.

"Why are you so nervous? Is it because the players are tall? Is it because this is your first practice match? There's nothing scarier than hitting a serve into the back of my head, is there?"

Hinata looked into Kageyama's eyes and saw the depths of hell as he smacked the back of his own head, mimicking the serve over and over again.

"No, there isn't," Hinata whispered.

"Right, because you've already done the scariest thing possible," he said in his monotone. Then, Kageyama shifted, and he placed his hands on Hinata's shoulders. Hinata flinched, but the gesture was softer than he'd expected it to be.

"Are you going to go back to your usual self?"

There was something in Kageyama's voice that broke Hinata's terror, something entering his eyes that was close to worry. His expression hadn't softened, but the question was uncharacteristic of typical, angry Kageyama.

"Yes," Hinata whispered, in awe of what he'd just witnessed. "I'm sorry I worried you."

Kageyama flushed and his demonic expression vanished. "I wasn't worried," he scoffed. In a louder, more Kageyama-esque way, he yelled, "Now get back out there and play for real, you jackass!"

Hinata stared. "W—was that goof safe?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Shit! If that was safe, it doesn't matter if I make any smaller mistakes!" Hinata seemed to have his prickly confidence back, his irritation much like a kitten's.

It took all that for him to realize it's okay for him to make mistakes? Was that all it was? Kageyama thought, baffled. "You're an idiot," he said, sighing.

The whole team was snickering, but seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief when Hinata returned to the group with more color in his face and life in his eyes. The boy felt like he could grow wings from where Kageyama's hands had been on his shoulders.

They lined up at the net, readying for the other set. Turnip head was studying Hinata and Kageyama closely after their little exchange.

"Hinata," Tanaka said before the second set began.

"Yes!" Hinata jumped, on edge and ready to be scolded.

"As if you have the experience to play like a seasoned veteran like the rest of us!" Tanaka said. "There's no way you can't fuck up. That's why we're here. We're your team. We know you suck. And we also know what you're capable of, so get your head out of your ass." Hinata's eyes glowed.

That's more like it, Kageyama thought. It always pumped him up, seeing Hinata's eyes shine for volleyball.

The second set began and Hinata was back on his game. He was keeping Turnip-head on his toes, running back and forth, looking for a good spiking opportunity. When he saw one, he jumped, closing his eyes and swinging hard.

No impact.

The ball dropped on Karasuno's side of the court.

Turnip-head bent down to whisper. "You're about to get an earful from the King." He seemed eager to see Kageyama continue his tyrannical and toxic patterns in high school.

Instead, Kageyama apologized. "My bad Hinata, that ball was too high."

Turnip-head looked like he'd swallowed a bug. Hinata smirked. The Kageyama on our team isn't the one you know. And I'll never let him revert back to that condescending player you called "King."

Within minutes of the game resuming, the freak toss and spike was delivered. The other team didn't see it coming. Literally.

The match was going well. Karasuno was about to take the third set when a group of girls signaled someone new entering the court by screaming.

"Who is that?" Hinata asked under his breath, his voice drowned out by all the fangirling.

"That's Oikawa Tooru," Kageyama said. "The main setter." Something dark had crossed his eyes that Hinata picked up on.

"Were you at Kitagawa together?"

"Yeah. He was my senior."

The Great King?! Hinata thought, looking at the boy who was dripping with good looks, his brown hair slightly curling and his smiling face beaming at the girls in the bleachers.

"He looks slippery," Hinata said.

Kageyama nodded. "He definitely is. And he's really gay."

Every Karasuno player froze.

"Kageyama, don't just say that during a match," Sugawara said nervously.

"Those poor girls don't even know…" Tanaka shook his head. "I'm so pissed, they could be screaming at me right now."

"That would never happen," Daichi said.

"Be careful," Kageyama warned. "He's a super aggressive setter."

So even Kageyama respects his abilities… Hinata noticed the Aobajousai setter send probing glances in Kageyama's direction and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He had the bizarre urge to yell "he's mine" across the court at him. Now that would be gay. Hinata shook his head and the whistle blew.

Oikawa's serves were like rockets. As soon as he'd begun to play, there was no way to question his abilities. He brought out the best in his team and aimed at the weakest receivers across the court.

Maybe if he'd been there at the beginning of the game, it would have mattered. One of Hinata's quicks sailed by his face and slammed into the ground, ending his first practice match and securing victory.

Tanaka yelled with excitement and everyone else was grinning, but Hinata just stared stupidly at his hand. He looked at Kageyama and gave him one of his trademark smiles, filled with sun—the kind that could erase bad dreams and frowns and past rivalries with ease. Kageyama realized he'd been missing it. He gave a small smile back.

Hinata damn near fell over. "Did you just smile?" he screeched, running over and examining his roommates face. "That's gotta be more rare than a UFO. Kageyama smiling."

The frown had returned. "Shut the hell up. I'm just glad you're back to your normal, dumbass self. You really sucked that first set."

Hinata flushed and the two were off bickering again, but in the back of his head, Kageyama's words, his strangely cute smile, had caused a small seed to grow in Hinata's heart.

The Turnip-head came up to the two of them, looking like he wanted a word with Kageyama.

"Kindaichi," Kageyama said, turning to face him, his hands on Hinata's shirt because he'd been shaking the boy for something he'd said.

So that's his name, Hinata thought.

"The next time we play, we'll win again." Kageyama let go of Hinata so his partner could stand next to him, as it was supposed to be.

"You've changed," was all his old teammate said before walking away. He walked straight for Oikawa, his hands clenched into fists.

"What's up?" Oikawa asked.

"Kageyama… he said 'we.'" Kindaichi was staring at the ground, deep in thought. "That's the first time he's said 'we.'"