Chapter Fourteen

-❤- La Vie en Rose -❤-

After the fireworks ended, there was a large bonfire in the school's front lawn, just as Yachi had said. Kageyama had never been one for fires—smoke and stifling heat and all—but he didn't mind it when Hinata was there. It was the opposite of stifling standing beside him. Kageyama only wanted to be closer, not farther away.

His whole body was buzzing with nervous energy as they walked through the hallway afterward. Other people ran past them, giggling, but Hinata went slow, looking out the windows at the sky, and Kageyama matched pace with him. He didn't even realize how far they'd traveled like that until Hinata had stopped and turned to him. This is your room, right?

Ah... Yeah. He was too distracted for his own good. He really needed to sleep, before he did something stupid. But he couldn't stop himself from asking, Do you want to come in?

Even though he knew it was a terrible decision, when Hinata agreed, he opened the door and let him inside. As the door closed, sweat broke out along his neck and Kageyama tried not to let the alarm he was feeling show on his face while Hinata looked around. Your room is bigger than mine.

He wandered from the door to the desk and smiled, fingering a stray piece of sheet music. La Vie en Rose? I wouldn't have expected you to play a song like that. Before Kageyama had a chance to respond, Hinata moved across to his bed to stare at the corkboard of pictures on the wall behind it.

Most of them were of him and his dad, holding twin violins or flying kites together at the park. His mom was in some of them, too, laughing as his father twirled her around the backyard or smeared cake frosting on her nose.

They'd all been taken well before the accident: The board was meant to serve as a reminder of their happiest times. It had been hanging in their kitchen before, but his mother had sacrificed it for the move, saying Kageyama would need the memories more than her while he was away from home.

It used to make him sad, but with Hinata standing there smiling at it, the sorrow somehow disappeared. Kageyama lingered against the door, scared to go any closer as his delicate fingers ran over a picture of Kageyama's father, grinning with his violin. Hinata had long, thin pianist fingers, just like his mother. Kageyama hadn't noticed before.

He was so pale, too. The way his red hair curled around the nape of his neck made his skin seem to glow. Kageyama found himself wanting to run his fingers through it—like touching fire. Would it burn him? Or would it be comfortably warm, like the sun?

Ohhh, this was bad. This was really, really bad. If he kept thinking that way, Kageyama feared he would do something he'd regret. But at the same time, another part of him didn't care one bit. He could regret nothing where Hinata was concerned. He wanted to be reckless.

And in the end, he couldn't control himself.

"Hinata." Kageyama grabbed his wrist, and when Hinata turned, a question written in his eyes, he pulled him forward by the hand and into a kiss that was long overdue.

He tasted of spearmint toothpaste and something else sugary sweet, and that taste—combined with the dizzying smell of mango-scented shampoo—left Kageyama's knees trembling. Even more so when Hinata's wrist weakened against his hold, fingers latching onto his arm, almost in desperation.

Kageyama's brain screamed its resistance, but he ignored it, sliding one hand down to Hinata's waist, pulling his other arm forward so they were almost chest to chest. Hinata's free hand grasped a fistful of his shirt, and he freed the other to clutch Kageyama's shoulder. His hands were shaking, but still, he only pulled himself closer.

It was completely true, what they said about fireworks. An entire parade was marching its way through Kageyama's chest, an orchestra's music crescendoing against the walls of his heart. And even though they were already touching, he wanted even more of Hinata—to somehow hold all of him at once—and his chest ached with the want.

This feeling transcended their duet: another type of music, entirely. It was the sound of breathing and the smell of Hinata and the feeling of their linked hands and the fact that it was finally happening. It was a beautiful symphony of warmth and colors that made him feel like they were the center of a supernova, space shattering all around them.

They'd left earth. Surely they weren't standing in his room, but floating in pure cosmic heat—the center of an exploding star.

He could taste the universe on Hinata's lips.

The world could burn for all he cared, as long as this breathtaking explosion could continue. Where he ended and Hinata began was beginning to disappear: It didn't matter what was left.

How had he waited so long for this? It was as if all his doubts and insecurities, about everything, were disappearing. The last piece of the puzzle—one he hadn't even realized was missing—had been slid into place, and it opened his eyes to all that he'd been lacking before. It was utterly dazzling in its brightness.

Hinata really was all the pieces.

There was something solid striking his knees now, and Kageyama pushed against it without thinking—caught up in the burning sensation of the kiss, not wanting to distract himself from it. As his knees struck the frame, they both collapsed onto his bed, where reality came crashing back down painfully.

Dammit. They'd landed on Kageyama's stupid violin case. It was still where he'd discarded it earlier that day after class, left forgotten underneath the covers—until that annoying moment. The interruption had banished the supernova, and he desperately wanted it back.

As he stood, pulling Hinata up with him, Kageyama ripped the blanket back to reveal the offending object with a scowl of irritation.

Only when his fingers were resting against the smooth black plastic (and not against Hinata's skin) did the full gravity of the last few minutes strike. He'd kissed Hinata. He'd blown all his boundaries and kissed Hinata. And... Hinata had kissed him back.

Kageyama felt encompassed by a full-body blush, and he ripped himself away from both the bed and Hinata with a startled cough. "Ah, oh—Uh— I'm sorry— I didn't mean to, um—" He tripped over his own tongue several times before Hinata, also flustered, offered some reassurance.

No— It's fine! I, um— I really— I didn't mind it... that much... His fingers stilled and he grimaced slightly. Ah, I mean... it wasn't bad! It was... It was really... almost... I mean— It was... good.

For a moment, they both just stared at the floor in silent mortification.

Kageyama wanted to curl up in a ball and die—although that odd feeling of magic still lingered in his chest, and despite the embarrassment—above all else—he really, really, really wanted to kiss Hinata again. His lips were still burning from their first kiss, and he was sure they'd be scorching hot if he touched them.

And why should he be embarrassed, anyway? It was obvious there was something between them—something anyone with eyes would notice. Kageyama had been struggling to ignore it for so long because of his stubbornness towards love, and even he couldn't deny it anymore.

But... while he'd harbored a crush on Hinata for a long time, he had yet to truly express his feelings.

Perhaps he'd assumed asking him to the dance would be enough—that kissing him would be enough—but he had never outright told Hinata that he liked him. His straightforwardness had blindsided Kageyama to the fact that Hinata had absolutely no idea he was in love with him.

And no matter how much he wished he could go on denying it, Kageyama knew he needed to tell him.

He couldn't tell him. Even as he walked him back to his room, both of them lingering in an awkward silence, Kageyama couldn't bring himself to say the words that had been plaguing him for so long.

Hinata didn't seem to be able to say anything either, ducking into his room without meeting his gaze, only offering a timid cough in farewell.

Dammit. He'd royally fucked up this time.

Kageyama swore under his breath as he turned to head back to his room, wishing he could travel back in time and take everything back. He'd just broken their stable relationship into a million pieces, all because he was an idiot who couldn't control himself. The high of their kiss had been depressingly short-lived.

What was he supposed to do now? There was no way they could go back to the way things were. He'd kissed Hinata: Hinata had kissed him back. That meant he liked him... right? There was absolutely no ignoring that.

This was all just too much for Kageyama's brain and heart to handle. His chest was full of light and happiness, while his head was a mass of rain clouds and darkness. It was ridiculous. He should've been celebrating. He'd kissed the person he liked, and his feelings were likely mutual—but his damn constitution was too weak for him to confess.

He felt a bit like smashing his head against a wall—but then somebody did it for him.

Without warning, someone grabbed him from behind and slammed his face against the wall—or tried to, at least. Kageyama raised his arms at the last second, bracing himself so he didn't take any damage. "What the fu—" he started to swear, but then someone spun him around, punching him square in the jaw.

He stumbled, reeling from the hit, and found three people surrounding him. He faintly recognized two of them as the ones who had been throwing things at Hinata: the ones he thought he'd already dealt with. Apparently not, because now they were all attacking him.

One of the boys lunged for him, but now that he was prepared, Kageyama easily swung under his arm and delivered a sharp kick to his sternum, sending him sprawling with a loud groan. He silently thanked his mother for the millionth time for signing him up for judo when he was a kid as he squared off with the remaining two, cracking his knuckles.

"Trust me: you guys don't want to fight m—" He didn't have a chance to finish the warning before they came at him again, the right one aiming for his kneecaps. Kageyama managed to sidestep his blow, but failed to avoid the other boy as he barreled into him full speed, taking them both down.

They rolled across the floor, kicking and clawing at each other viciously until the other boy came out victorious. He pinned Kageyama down with his knees and elbowed him roughly in the nose, sending stars exploding across his vision. He cursed, but was unable to lift a hand and stop the flow of blood streaming down his face. Instead, he spat in the boy's face. "Get off me!"

"This is what you get for thinking you can—" He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, because Kageyama kneed him between the legs and pushed him off harshly. He pushed himself to his feet, but before he could deliver a finishing blow, the second thug appeared and punched him in the stomach, leaving him breathless.

Damn. He'd forgotten about him.

Wiping blood from his nose, Kageyama straightened and groaned. "Seriously? Two against one is hardly"—he dodged a lunge from the guy he'd kneed in the crotch and gritted his teeth—"fair."

Guess they didn't want to talk. Before they could come at him again, Kageyama decided to even the odds and clocked the first guy straight in the face when he ran at him, delivering a knockout blow. One against one was much better odds.

He and the remaining boy faced off, and Kageyama tried to ignore the pain in his face and the bitter taste of blood in his mouth. "You really shouldn't have picked a fight with me. I was already pissed at you for what you did to Hinata, but now?" He shook his head with a scowl. "I'm going to kill you."

"I'd like to see you try it."

The boy had all of two solid seconds to sneer at him before Kageyama punched him straight in the throat. He gasped and coughed, spluttering in surprise, and Kageyama slammed him against the wall, pinning him there with his forearm. "I just did."

He pressed his arm against the boy's windpipe and glared into his eyes. "Tell anyone about this, and you're done." He paused. "Oh, and if you ever go near Hinata again, I'll really kill you. We clear?" Kageyama waited for the boy to nod before he let him go, watching him crumple to the ground, wheezing. "Good."

Straightening his suit jacket, he pinched his nose and walked back to his room, rubbing his sore jaw irritably.

Damn. He'd definitely have bruises in the morning.

A/N: THE KISS HAS BEEN ACHIEVED. OUR BOY IS GROWING UP ╭( ･ㅂ･)و

The song featured this chapter is the lovely Édith Piaf's "La Vie en Rose," violin version~