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taekozuyang · 1 year

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the line between us

⭒ suna rintarou x fem!reader

⭒ tags: fbw to lovers (?) | angst | love triangle | emotionally constipated suna | ARAN APPEARS HERE and he's the only person with actual braincells, we love him for that

⭒ wc: 5.1k

ㅡafter the stunt pulled at the party, you find yourself with an answer you seeked for but wished never had to know.

a/n: a repost (tho i took down the first one hours after its release) bc i finally, for the love of god, proofread this. it's not perfect but it's the best it can get. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this. sympathize with me, cry with me. goodluck ;)

the drabble i based this off | part 1

the morning has been dragging you out as though you could sense every student's wasted energy from last weekend's party. even you have not recovered from the events that unraveled that nightㅡalbeit, a particular blonde made it almost unforgettable. he made it clear to leave a receipt, a topic to gossip about on a sober monday morning.

"you're dating y/n?!" the blonde announces in an obnoxiously loud voice.

to be fair, how could not one's ear be piqued by a controversial statement? even you, the subject of the news, had your eyes goggling at osamu's twin, the infamous blonde setter who broke the news to everyone, miya atsumu.

osamu peels his head away from the fake kiss to look at his brother with a face you could imagine, embarrassed or worse horrified. his face instantly beats red, which does not help at all because it made him look guilty. in a snap, everyone's eyes were on you. a spectacle in a midst of a bleak university life.

"since when?! i thought you guys were just friends?" as atsumu pressed it became more complicated.

if osamu denies dating then the plan will collapse in a matter of seconds all because of his brother's nosiness. besides, osamu is concerned about you. he knows that putting a label on a romantic relationship is a concept hard for you to grasp. he does not want to make you feel uncomfortable by insensitively claiming that you both are dating. thus, the best response he could muster is to divert the attention.

"what's with that ugly expression on your face?" he insults him with his biggest pride (aside from being one of japan’s best setter) "and what's it with you if i am or am not dating (y/n)? it's not like you don't know her."

as atsumu theatrically gasps out loud, his drink spilling over the rim of his cup at his sudden movement your eyes gravitate toward the far corner of the room so easily as though being with him for more than a year or so made you instinctively find him in a crowded room. all faces turn blank as you spot him standing alone with a cup in hand and eyes locked with yours. he neither moved a muscle nor stray his focus from you. instead, he stares at you as if the argument between the twins and the loud music in the room vanishes into white noise. he was hard to read. he appeared as if he was the person you first met, and not the one you spent rainy days in bed, clothed with nothing but his arms around your naked waist.

in the end, osamu was forced to give a vague answer to redeem the situation. "maybe, we're dating. maybe, we're not." up until today atsumu has no idea of the truth.

no one knows the truth of your petty revenge.

today, you thought of giving back to osamu by baking him snacks during the food laboratory. it's a recipe you came up with for a project. you made it a point to make more than you are required so both you and osamu can share, like you always do. bonding over food has become a thing between the two of you.

monday is the only time of the week when you do not share a class with your friend and the only chance you get to meet him is when you cross paths at the corridor, which happened just now.

"samu!" you greet from a distance, your free hand waving at him. osamu reciprocates by flashing a smile.

"hey." he says, catching his breath as he jogs toward you. "do you have class after four?" he asks. when you utter no, his face lights up. "can you please do me a favor? my professor messed up my schedule."

"sure, as long as it's anything within my capacity," osamu lets out a relieved sigh.

"here," handing you a camera in his hand, you can already tell what it's about. "i promised tsum to record their practice game today at four but i couldn't since my professor is calling us for an unannounced consultation."

"this technically works in atsumu's favor." you arch a brow making the other pull the corner of his lips upward.

"i know my brother is a bit of an ass but i want to support him. i'm pursuing my passion and so does he, and he supports me with my cooking. i do not want to let him down today since this practice match is important to him and his team. so, technically..." he copies your wording endearingly as he suppresses a smile (how can you say no at this point??) "...it is important to me too. It’s a favor that works two ways, me and atsumu's but i'd say more of me since i do not want to get an earful from him when we get home so can you do this for me, please? pleaaase?"

you playfully roll your eyes as you say a half-hearted, "fine."

"yes! thank you! thank you!" osamu leans forward to catch you in a tight embrace. he pulls back to look at you at an arm's length. "i'll do anything to pay back the favor."

"you don't have to."

"no, i insist."

"samu, honestly, i'm in debt. i have to pay you back twice for the party last weekend."

"hm?" osamu angles his head to the side. "that's not a favor, it worked to my advantage too." you blink at him twice, confused if you heard him right.

"what?" but just as you asked, he shoves the camera in your hand as he walks past you.

"unimportant, bye!" he waves goodbye, leaving you baffled as you peer at both of your hands full of... wait... the food!

"samu, wait! the snack!" you lift a tight container in the air. "i baked these for you!"

instantly, osamu runs back to you with a grin that reaches his ears as you open the lid of the container. he takes a piece and bites large, enough to fill the sides of his cheeks. he thanks you hurriedly and wastes no time by briskly walking back down the hallway. a few steps away, he turns to look through his shoulder,

"ginger and cinnamon?! you're a mad scientist! when did you become a fan of cinnamon? it's on your every dish but it tastes good so i have zero complaints! thank you, (y/n)!" his comment makes you chuckle out loud only to be abruptly stopped by a realization that came after his innocent words. at that moment, your heart sinks gradually and silently into the depths of an open sea. it makes no noise, no signs of falling into a trap of nothingness that slowly turned into a tinge of pain. unable to grasp, your legs remained unmoved.

cinnamon.

he loves cinnamon.

on days spent with you, suna basks himself in the warmth of your apartment and fresh bakes. he told you that he loves cinnamon and you find it telling of his personality. like a cinnamon scent, his outer physique holds a hint of spice and mystery, one that reels you in. but as you devour it, rolling it at the back of your tongue and savoring every ounce of its taste, you relish sweetness. it is him, in every aspect, it is him.

osamu leaves you to your thoughts as the gray-headed misses to take a cue from your running mind. you are far more affected by suna than you thought. you were used to orbiting each other's ecliptics that losing him means losing your balance. it takes it in you to harden your knees and turn your feet into motion. when did you end up being so emotionally affected by someone?

you empty your mind as you walk to the gym, debriefing yourself on the task at hand. when you arrived, the volleyball team is already doing rounds of warm-ups as the visiting university settles their things on the other side of the court. atsumu immediately sees you as he turns a lap, face contorting into a confused look. soon, he approaches you before the practice game begins.

"i'm samu's sub." you say when he nears you.

"how kind of you. is this your way of putting your best foot forward so i can approve you as my twin's girlfriend?" you almost choke, almost. right, he didn't know. you make a mental note to tell osamu that he should let his twin know or else his mouth will cause you both a problem.

"but seriously," atsumu takes the water bottle next to you then uncaps it before taking a gulp. he takes the bottle away from his mouth and speaks. "take care of samu. he may appear unfeeling most of the time but he's a 'lil softy inside. when we were young i cry out loud in front of many making me the expressive and loud twin while he remains the calm, emotionally stable one. though i always catch him crying alone in our room."

atsumu is beginning to believe that you are officially dating his brother and something about what he said puts a weight on your shoulder. although bringing you as his date to the party to show it off to suna is his plan, you do not want to hurt him in any way possible. if your pretentious act will stir him into an issue he does not want to be involved in, you have no one else but to blame yourself. after all, he did it for you.

a man walks up to atsumu and before he could utter a word his eyes met yours. a subtle surprise makes his brow twitch as he sees you holding the miya’s camera.

"you're here." aran states the obvious.

"yep, i'll record the practice match. oh! speaking of i can send you a file too just give me your email."

"sure, it's ojiro underscore-" you cut him off, smiling to him shyly.

"no! there's no way i'll remember that. send it to me over sms. i think you have my number."

"do i?" he asks though it seemed as if he's asking himself rather than you. he shrugs, "if i don't i'll ask rintarou."

a prominent pound in your chest vibrates through your ribs as his name is spoken. You have lost grip on the situation before you as you ponder. why do you feel this way? he’s meant to be just your fuck buddy, a man that warms your bed when the night feels cold, nothing more. but why... why do you feel this way?

"your ex." atsumu fails to read the room. aran side-glances him as he damps his face with a towel.

"we were not dating." you point out with gritted teeth. atsumu is once again intrigued.

"'were'." he repeats to himself. "right, 'cause you're currently dating osamu." aran looks at you then back to atsumu then back to you again obviously eavesdropping. just when you thought his mouth will cause you and his brother a problem, he brings it to you the earliest possible. aran is suna's closest friend. if there is anyone who knows suna like the back of their hand, it is aran.

taking a swift glance at aran who is currently busy folding his towel, thus you take this chance to round your eyes at the blonde and point to the man next to him using your eyes. with a forced smile, you wish for atsumu to take a hint. "you know what tsumu, let's talk about it some other time."

he looks at aran briefly before turning to you with his brows pressed to the center. although hesitant, atsumu nods. "alright, you and samu need to explain a lot of things, and you guys might need time too. i don't mind waiting, okay? just in the meantime please be gentle with him. and don’t tell him I said that!” he points at you defensively making you laugh.

“aw, aren’t you a sweet brother?” as you tease him, the deeper the creases on his face appears making his the top of cheeks round like steamed buns.

ultimately, atsumu leaves you to your task as he jogs to the court for the practice match. aran, on the other hand, did not say anything about you dating osamu but instead said his thanks for recording the match.

by the time the practice match ended, the sun has long set. even though tonight may be the ideal time to walk back to your apartment under the shadows of moonlight, the heavy rain pour stops you. worse, it won't let you go home. you left your umbrella at your place again, a bad habit you have since. hence, you're stuck at the sports building. the only way for you to go home without getting all soaked up is through atsumu who is still in the meeting with their coach which takes hours to finish including the allotted time for a cool down and stretching and tidying up the court or you can wait for the storm to pass by which may also take hours or a day even since it shows no signs of stopping.

having left with no choice, you bounce on the balls of your feet as you stare outside. the loud splatter of rain on the roof and cement deafens your hearing which made it impossible for you to hear the footsteps coming from behind. an oversized leather jacket drops on your head, therefore, snapping you to divert your attention at the source. before you could see the person's face, his voice says it all.

"you never bring your umbrella." suna says, walking past you with a hood over his head and hands tucked inside the pocket of his pants. he spare you a look as the image of him blends in with the rain.

it was the first time he spoke to you since the event at the pumpkin patch. the day you never felt the same.

you reach home half-wet and half-not. the bottom of your legs down to your feet is soaked making the feel of your shoes and socks icky from rain but from your waist up to your face is dry thanks to suna's leather jacket.

upon entering your apartment, a dilemma keeps your feet glued next to the coat rack. you do not like seeing a piece of his clothing that line his silhouette out in the space where you can see at any point in your small apartment but you must hang it or else you will leave droplets of water on the floor. call it pathetic but you do not want to be reminded of him. remembering him brings a wave of emotions you are not accustomed to, one that you have not completely deciphered yet.

torn, you leave it on the floor. shriveled into a pile of black making it hard to recognize as a piece of clothing. that is not the best solution and you should not be doing this but it works for now. satisfied, you leave it at your doorstep as you head to your room to change.

---

what was once a daily chore for suna suddenly turn foreign to him after a prolonged time of abstinence but it does not miss the fact that his body still knows how to pleasure an expectant doe beneath him.

"fuck me in the face, suna." the girl from his class drags her lips from the column of his neck down to his collarbones. when she attempts to suck on his skin to leave a mark, suna pinches her nipples as a punishment.

"i said no to hickeys." suna glares at her and all she could do is whine and pout her lips. but when he was with you, he would let you do anything. he would let you pepper his skin with bruised kisses, marking every inch of his body and oddly suna became fond of it. he looks at himself through the mirror with traces of you after morning and mornings could not be better than it was. having realized what he is thinking and feeling pathetic to reminiscing about you in a midst of having sex, suna lowers his body to the woman. to cloud his thoughts, he hovers her completely about to shove his cock again into her sensitive pussy when she stops him mid-doing so.

"not now, it hurts. you fucked me hard i can't take another round." the edge of her manicured nails graze softly on his jawline. the other hand scratching his back down from his shoulder blades down to his inner thighs. "but if you let me..." suna groans from the touch of her hand around his length. she teases him more by moving her hand slowly up and down. she caresses his tip using her thumb which causes suna to shut his eyes. his reaction fuels the girl's confidence, therefore, sliding down beneath him and between his thighs, arms pressing his waist down to her face.

suna steadies his balance by holding onto the headboard of the bed. his body gains its motion, banging his hips against her face, cock deep down on her throat. wet moans escape from his lips as she sucks harder, lips tightening around his hardened cock, and tongue dancing at every thrust he gives. lust and pleasure build in his core which pushes suna to gain speed. choking noises and groans fill the small room as the girl begs for more and suna gives exactly what she asks.

though he is reluctant to admit it, the past few days of shared awkward glances and cold shoulders have taken a toll on him. he should not be disappointed because who you are to him should be nothing more than friends with benefits. but something about how you carried yourself to the party, hand anchored over some guy's arm as you giggle at whatever lame joke the miya told you that he couldn't easily brush off. more so when you looked at him from a distance like a stranger and not a person whom you spent more than a year with.

drooling on suna's precum and her saliva, the girl's soft cries tangles with his stuttered breathing. Her jaw tenses but when she feels suna's thigh tense and his hips jerking, a sign that he is about to cum she welcomes every thrust. she wants the infamous suna rintarou of the fine arts department to cum at her disposal.

meanwhile, he blocks any thoughts of you in his head as he focuses on cumming in her mouth. albeit, the girl encourages him as she closes her lips around his digit. soon, a rush of intensity overcomes his body. he shudders as his thighs constricts and lose strength. It is not long when he finally reaches his orgasm. it takes a few lazy pumps in her mouth for him to ejaculate. the girl swallows as she searches for his eyes. however, suna’s lids are shut as he leans his face on his forearm resting on top of the headboard. he takes his softened cock from her mouth before lying on the bed beside her. not a few minutes in, his phone rings to a call. suna curses under his breath as he is forced to push himself up. due to lack of strength, he slides from the bed to the carpeted floor to reach for his phone tucked inside the pocket of his pants scattered on the floor.

"hello?" he says in short breaths.

"so, it's true." the boy says without a context making suna pull the phone away from his ear to read the contact name. it reads 'ojiro aran'.

"about what?" the girl crawls up next to him, kissing the back of suna's ear.

"about (y/n). damn, i thought you were reading things wrong."

"what about her?" just as suna asked, the girl cooed for him to come back to bed, trailing kisses on his neck to lure him to cuddle her.

"jesus fucking-, i heard that. i heard that! you know what. nevermind." a sound of a ceramic cup hitting the wooden center table resonates from the other line along with aran's frustrated tone.

"no, no, don't hang up." suna utters hurriedly before covering the microphone of his pocket device. he turns around to mouth "i can't." to the girl. he takes his boxers tossed near his pants only to be rendered to a deflated beat on the other line.

aran did hang up.

suna was quick on redialing his friend's number and to his luck, aran answered almost immediately.

"don't leave me hanging." he gathers his clothes on the floor before heading straight to the bathroom.

"if i hear another moan from a girl i fucking swear i will not answer your call again."

"it's barely a moan but yeah, yeah, whatever. she's not here." there is a short pause at the end before aran asks, voice threading on thin ice.

"that girl... that isn't (y/n), is it?" although the answer to it is obvious, it took suna a couple of seconds to respond. last month he was enjoying a free taste of a muffin, cookie, a bun, and more all with the soft kick and aroma of cinnamon. with you time seems to slow down, watching movies, fucking until both of you are breathless, and talking about random things until sleep finds its way on your lids. but now is different. he stands inside an acquaintance's bathroom with a fresh scent of lemon and sweets, far from how he remembers you.

"no." suna utters in a low tone.

"on a scale of one to ten, how fucked are you? how can you mess this up?! i was rooting for you guys!" suna remains silent as he bites on his molars. aran begins to narrate. "she was at the practice game this afternoon and saw her talking to miya. i approached them and she asked me if i wanted the file, volleyball stuff. anyway, after that atsumu was damned serious about the topic they were talking about. you know, i can only count the times he was serious about something using one hand, volleyball included."

"were they talking about the incident at the party?" suna sits on the toilet cover as he listens intently.

"i am not sure if it was regarding that night but atsumu was asking (y/n) to take care of his brother since they're dating. i'm starting to believe something is going on between osamu and (y/n). i mean, (y/n) doesn't date, just like you, and for her to ‘date’ osumu… hah! this is a stretch for her. she even took osamu’s spot as a recorder at today’s practice match." aran waits for him to say anything but the other kept his tongue stuck to his throat. the boy asks. "have you talked to her?"

suna mumbles a weak "no."

"why not?"

"i don't know! she's not texting me!" frustrated, suna's voice increases in volume.

"well, have you tried reaching her?"

"no!"

"then, you're officially stupid! all you have to do is ask her why. is that hard to do?! for fucks sake you've slept with countless women but you still have zero ideas on how to deal with them?!" aran argues which heats the conversation even more.

"exactly! i only fuck with them but i never..." lost with words and unable to describe moments with you, suna curses out loud. "fuck this! fuck me! i fucking hate all of this!"

the boy with parted raven hair storms out of the apartment of the girl he barely remembers the name of and lets his feet take him anywhere. he never minds the heavy downpour of rain over his head. his thoughts are running fast, jumbled, and tangled into loops. aran's narrative and advice ring through his ears as doubts and feelings of betrayal resurfaces. out of all men in this world, you're dating someone whom suna kept a keen eye on. he was certain osamu had feelings for you long ago but you refuse to believe, teasing him about old foe jealousy. suna wasn't jealous. he can keep up with his lifestyle of sleeping with multiple women without feeling sheer jealousy when they turn to somebody else. it is something that never bothers him, or so he thinks.

his confidence is shaken when he finds himself knocking on a familiar door.

changing to comfortable oversized clothes and having a warm meal is not quite enough to change your thoughts on suna's leather jacket. you eye the innocent clothing lying on the floor begging to be picked up and hung over the hook like the others. if the jacket could speak it would have shouted at you to treat it fairly like the others on the rack.

"but your owner is a prick," you speak bitterly. great, now you're talking to a jacket. what's next? his shirt in your drawer? his phone number? his pictures on your phone? this is beginning to feel like an actual break up and it's causing you energy. you don't want to deal with these kinds of problems, mainly the reason why you never commit to a relationship.

when you were about to turn your face away from the front door, soft knocks on the door echoed.

"coming." you shout monotonously, dragging your feet to the door and freezing when the lights flicker. the thunder and lightning, heavy rain pouring, and unstable electricity power makes the scene before you like a deja vu of a horror film. after all, who the hell is visiting you at ten in the evening? and on a freaking stormy monday?

unlocking the barrel and twisting the knob open, you hesitantly pull on the door. behind it is the last person you expected. drenched and quivering in the rain and cold but he does not seem to mind or rather notice. however, his eyelids peel open when he sees you at the doorstep as though he, too, was clueless and surprised to see you.

"what are you doing here?" with a wide-eyed gaze your heart pounds in your chest. this is the first time you ever to talked to him in weeks.

"i-, a-are you," he stammers, swallowing thickly to regain his composure. he starts on the wrong foot. "why are you ignoring me?"

"rin, it's-" he cuts you off abruptly and fear comes alive when he asks.

"is it true? are you dating osamu?"

"listen, rin. i think you should-"

"tell me!" he shouts, a nerve on his forehead protruding from tension. "do you like him?! have you fallen for him?! do you imagine him as we fuck?!"

"NO! GOD, NO!" you scream. the sky rumbles and a harsh gust of wind swirls the trees into a stoic dance. the storm is with you. it unleashes wrath so you do not have to lose control. on the other hand, suna loses it.

"THEN, WHY ARE YOU IGNORING ME?!" at that moment, you too fell into the pit of wrath.

"AND WHY DO YOU HAVE TO KISS HER IN FRONT OF ME?!" as if the rain is not enough to fill the gutter with pools of rainwater, the clouds burst. gradually, water breaks through the edges to rush through the drainages, like your tears that had overflown your lids, forming streaks of rivers on your cheeks.

your silent cry snapped suna back to his senses, stunned that he had made you cry. he did not intend to confront you in an argument nor did he wish for the situation to worsen, but in a matter of a minute or so, he made it happen. He runs his tongue over his dried purple lips and catches you off guard when he closes the gap, hand meeting with the side of your face. his thumb catches a tear as worry replaces anger on his face.

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to make you cry. i shouldn't have raised my voice at you. i'm sorry, i'm sorry." he hushes you with a soothing voice. both of his hands on your face holding you like a fragile ornament ready to break anytime pressure is applied. the tip of his nose brushes against yours as your foreheads connect, and he dips in. a pair of cold lips touch yours in a prolonged peck before he draws back.

"kiss me back." yearning laces in his voice that almost convinces you to do just as you were told when he leans to steal another kiss. he urges you to move your mouth with his but he is left to an unmoving pair. he pulls back just enough for him to speak. "why won't you kiss me?" he pleads in question so gently that it breaks your heart.

"i can't." you lower your head down, unable to meet his gaze.

"why not?" his lids flutter open as he tilts your chin to search for your eyes.

"i can't do this with you. we have to stop."

"i don't understand." his thumb rubs circles on your cheeks and his brows pulled lower.

"it's not the same, at least for me."

it all makes sense now. everything that you felt from the day you saw him kiss a woman at the pumpkin patch to having him hold you in this manner. how thoughts of him perceiving you similarly to every other girl he slept with burn holes in your chest. how he made you feel special, how he treated you special. how he kissed no one but you, touched no one but you. in a dreamlike glimpse, you were convinced that you are more than just a body count on his list. that maybe, he felt it too. maybe, you are an exception. maybe, he can feel for you too.

"i'm greedy. i'm selfish. i'm not the same." you mutter, brows pressed gently to form a crease on your forehead. you lock eyes with him. "i want something you can never give."

in finality, the heavens wail for your broken heart. for a second you thank a friend for crying with you, holding you through your first heartbreak. and you hoped that as the storm past by, it washes off the pain that left your heart.

then, all of a sudden just before your mouth opens to speak your final words, the electricity in your apartment went off.

a temporary silence,

a temporary death.

breaths together in a still room,

you bleed your heart open.

"i want all of you."

thank you for reading! as per usual, likes and rbs are very much appreciated. i also accept screaming keyboard smash as feedbacks, thanks lol.

masterlist | hq.list

#haikyuu!!#hq imagine #hq fic #hq one shot #haikyuu #suna rintarō #suna rintaro x y/n #hq suna #suna x y/n #suna angst #angst #hq angst #suna fic #osamu miya #atsumu miya #aran ojiro #pea.writes #ㅡp.18+

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akaashism · 2 years

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AtuOi beef @ the all-star game and Atsumu trying to turn everyone against Oikawa immediately has so much comedic potential.

He tries to get Hinata to break his friendship with Oikawa. It's just like:

Atsumu: It is shameful you are friends with someone who hurt your boyfriend/best friend so much in middle school

Hinata: Tobio is okay with it–

Atsumu: SHAMEFUL I SAY!

He tells Iwaizumi he can do better than Oikawa (and nearly gets punched in the face).

He organises bitching sessions with Kageyama (it's very one-sided. Kageyama is texting Hinata or watching volleyball videos the whole time. Atsumu is FURIOUS they aren't bonding over their shared hatred of Oikawa.)

Atsumu: And the way he thinks he is so much better than everyone else? Imagine being so obnoxious, I could never –

Kageyama: *doesn't hear a word* *is literally making bets with Hinata on FaceTime*

Atsumu: You are dead to me.

So he tries his luck with Ushijima instead but that turns out even worse.

Ushijima: Oh, Oikawa? He is an excellent setter, he brings out the best in every team. If he'd gone to my school–

Atsumu: OH MY GOD!!!

Sakusa has locked him out of the room after the first night and refuses to entertain him.

Atsumu: Don't you just hate it when he calls you Kiyo-chan? Omi-Omi is so much cuter. He will never understand you like I do.

Sakusa: It's 3:16 in the morning

Atsumu: ily

Sakusa: die

Osamu blocked his number. Suna simply starts recording his anti-Oikawa rants and Atsumu is 77% sure at least one of them is up on the internet. Bokuto is a lost cause because he met Oikawa once and is already a fan. Hoshiumi would be a perfect candidate but he has his own Jackals/Adlers beef with Atsumu to fulfill and just starts growling whenever they cross paths.

Aran hears him out once and wants to fake his death within 15 minutes.

Yaku hates Oikawa but he hates Atsumu too. Inunaki is a sadist and enjoys Atsumu's suffering.

Atsumu is miserable. Oikawa is winning for now.

(Feel free to add more.)

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nysrage · 8 months

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Options, Aran Ojiro.

you weren’t used to dealing with someone one who had as many options as you, especially not with anyone you dealt with behind closed doors. pnd inspired lol.

cw: smut, sneaky linksss, texts, jealousy, cursing, arguing, pet names (baby, ma, pa, daddy), dirty talk, missionary (aran loves to look at your pretty face).

it’s homecoming week at your university, the streets and sidewalks of campus are filled with more than the normal amount of students. house parties being planned around every corner, and food trucks and goody stands wherever you turn. it was a weekend to be alive but for you it turned out to be a weekend full of surprises. the night was still young while you put on the final touches of accessories to pull your outfit together. snapping a couple mirror pics away as you waited for your friends to finish their pregame rituals. “one more shot then we gotta go!” your best friend gizelle giggled, alcohol already coursing through her system and you haven’t even left for the party yet.

you laughed to yourself, continuing to scroll through your phone and weeding out the pictures you didn’t like until a text from a certain someone came across your screen. a smile curving into your lips as you read over the message.

‘can’t wait to see you, ain seen yo fine ass all day.’

“c’mon y/n! take a shot with me!” sending a quick reply you stood, waving your hands in refusal, a flustered smile on your face. “you know i can’t hold liquor.” gizelle smacked her lips, grabbing and pulling you towards the island. “bitch it’s homecoming! throw it back.” placing a shot glass with a slice lime on its rim in your hand. filled with nothing but her fav alcohol, don julio. you timidly lift the glass to your lips. gizelle playfully rolling her eyes and pushing the cup to your lips for you to down, watching your face scrunch in disgust with a giggle. “now we’re ready t’go.”

soon as the door opened the smells of alcohol, weed, and other substances filled your nose. clouded over ceilings and music thumping from the speakers while you and your girls weaved through the crowd straight towards the kitchen. where different bowls of punch made by the greeks were lined up on the table, “so what y’all feeling? i’m leaning towards oil, centaur piss or tiddy milk.” your friend gizelle grabbed a couple cups, you laughed reading over the labels. “greeks always come up with the freakiest shit for drinks.”

you settled for the tiddy milk, joining your friends who were drunkenly rapping and dancing to the music. sipping on the pina colada flavor drink as you glanced over the crowded room. eyes being met with low ones that were already on you. chilling against the wall in rotation, black fit contrasting nice against his deep caramel skin. your mystery boo, aran ojiro. he gives you a smirk and a acknowledging wink, leaving you flustered with a small smile. trying your best to focus on your friends but you kept looking back over your shoulder, body feigning to be by his side. the only thing grabbing your attention is your phone flashing and buzzing in your hand with a thread of texts.

‘you look so good’

‘can’t wait to have yo sexy ass to myself tn.’

‘pretty ass’

‘you givin’ me them looks, must be ready to go’

you give him a glance, aran practically eye fucking you from across the room as he took a long pull of the blunt. you throw him a small innocent nod, your friends picking up on the signs and having a silent conversation between themselves. exchanging looks of ‘she finna leave us for some dick’ and longs sips of their drinks in agreement ‘mhmm’. gizelle finally speaking up with quick bump to the side. “leaving soon?” you suck your teeth and roll your eye’s playfully, ignoring your friends teasing to focus on your boo. aran texting you a quick ‘bet’ pushing himself off the wall and getting ready to make his exit until a girl walked up on him, tugging on his shirt to bring him closer with a smile as she spoke with him.

your eyebrow raised with a scoff, eyeing the interaction from across the room. blood beginning to boil at how long the two have been talking. “ain’t nobody worth leavin’ for.” you say to your friend, turning your back on aran, setting your phone on do not disturb and focusing on the group of girl for the rest of the night. trying your best to not let someone you weren’t even exclusively dating get to you, but your friends definitely noticed the slight shift. “you good girl?”

you nodded, deciding to call it a night. you weren’t one to dampen the mood and mope around your friends. “m’ just tired, been out all day..” gizelle nodded, not asking anymore questions and dropping you off to your dorm, ready to listen whenever your ready to share. the drive back was quiet but comfortable, soft music playing through the speakers. you just staring out at the road post in your thoughts. you didn’t understand what was going on with you. yeah you liked aran, but the traits and behaviors you were throwing you off. some were good and some were bad, like jealousy.

an emotion you never really displayed until now, not even with previous flings or boyfriends. you never really had to compete for anyone’s attention, so where you found yourself now was was new.. and embarrassing. “see you tomorrow luv.” you blew her a kiss, grabbing your things and hopping out the car. walking toward the complex entrance, you found aran waiting for you. ignoring him you walked straight to the door, searching in your purse for your keys. “wassup, so you ignoring me now?” you shook your head, back still turned to him as you placed your id on the reader, unlocking the door. “didn’t think you cared whether i ignored you or not..

“you seemed to have a good convo with ole girl at the party..”

“so you gone be like this over a girl talkin’ to me?” aran raised a brow in confusion, turning you around to face him. you gave him little time though, pulling out your phone and texting your friends you made it home. “aran i’m wayyy too drunk for this conversation right now.” but you were interrupted by him snatching your phone out of your hand.

“man look..” he sighed, placing your phone in his pocket. “m’ not about to do this childish bullshit with you, so what’s up with you.” you shrugged your shoulders, finally facing him with a facade of no emotion. “it doesn’t matter, aran. none of this shit matters.” aran’s face flashing with confusion, taken back by your response. “you could wake up one morning deciding to ghost me for that girl who was feeling all up on you tonight, or any of the options in yo roster and it wouldn’t be shit i could do about it. so why would you care if i’m mad huh?!”

“so you wanna pull that card? you know i ain’t even on that timing.” aran sucked his teeth, jaw clenching with agitation. “everytime i show you any type of progress to something more YOU RUN. that shit confusing!” you close your arms around yourself, embarrassed that he truly paid attention to you and your actions. “whatever aran, can i just get my phone.” he scoffed, running his tatted hand down his face with a sarcastic laugh leaving his lips. “now it’s whatever, shit don’t feel good do it?”

“you the first girl in a while that i felt was fucking with me for me and not some basketball wife fantasy.” aran breathed out, pausing for a second before going on. “you ain’t gotta fight for no spot that already reserved for you ma.” head falling down in defeated with his hands in his pockets.

“but you think i’m privileged or this lil boy who playing games..”

“i don’t think your either aran..” you slowly approached him, engulfing him in a tight hug. aran nuzzled into your neck, hands wrapped tight around your waist as he melted into the sweet smell of your perfume. nothing no longer exchanged because everything had already be said with those few words. aran pulled back, looking into your eyes before closing your lips in a deep, heated kiss. eyes darting all over his face once he pulled back, “still staying with me tonight? so i can hold and kiss on you.”

“hm i don’t know.” hiding your smirk in his neck, trying to continue your pouty attitude, aran smacked his teeth rubbing his hands all over your curves. squeezing on the soft flesh of your ass. “c’mon mama, come home with me.” you sighed, giving him a soft smile. mind set on giving him a hard time the rest of the night as he tries to make it up to you but not even five minutes passed in his room before you were puddy in his arms.

your anklets dangling next your ear while aran folded you up in his bed, ready to split you open. your whines sounding off the walls as his heavy dick slapped down on your throbbing clit. “looka that wet ass pussy..” running it through your slit and teasing your entrance with his tip before sinking into you deep, eyes rolling back with a moan as he caressed your sweet spot within. aran watching the white ring form around the base from how eagerly you sucked him in. keeping that steady pace that had you leaking for him, your hand pushing at his pelvis to keep him from going too deep, only for him to remove it and place it on your lower belly. pushing it down for you to feel him fucking you in ways you’ve never felt before. “feel me huh? m’ all yours mama, this yo dick.”

“ain’t no reason to trip”

your back arching into his at the deep slow pace he maintained, making sure you feel every single inch he gave you. stretching and filling you full while his thumb circled your clit and setting the fire in the pit of your stomach ablaze, legs shaking in his hold. “o-ohhh my g-goddd, paaa.” his eyes flickering from your pooling mess to your glazed over eyes, moaning at how you clenched down on him. “i know baby, i know..”

oncoming orgasm swelling your walls and trying to push him out. “open up for daddy.” slowly hardening his thrust, hips slamming against your pelvis with precision. moans catching in your throat as aran watches your pretty brown breast bounce in his hold, nipples hard and erect from the cool air against your scorching skin. aran wrapping a strong hand around your neck leaning in and giving you a sloppy kiss, slipping his tongue in your mouth and swallowing every moan you let out for him. aran pulled back with a smirk, lips red and wet from the kiss. “you still mad at me..?” you came hard, creamy arousal coating his dick and pelvis. aran slowly stroking you through your orgasm with a smile.

“nah, you ain’t mad..”

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sucka4pain · 1 year

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𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐘 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘!❣︎

haikyuu men with a thicc!s/o

Bokuto Koutarō, Aran Ojiro, Ushijima Wakatoshi, & Tsukishima Kei

Includes: Ass slapping, sloppy make outs, mentions of sex, sexual tensions, possessiveness, and dirty talk

Probably went a little overboard with Ushijima and Aran but can’t blame me🤭

Pronouns aren’t really mentioned

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Bokuto Koutarō

The PERFECT COUPLE!!

Nothing is better a couple who both have CAKE

He likes to play with your ass. LIKE DRUMS. Not THAT way…

He likes to slap it while you are laying on your stomach.

Even tells you to play with his😭

“Come on Y/n! It’s actually fun!!” “Kou, I’m not gonna mess around with your ass😑” “please?🥺” “…Fine”

Now he’s happy.

Okay but like when he FIRST slapped your ass, he was FLABBERGASTED!

Bro was shocked by the recoil on that thang

When you guys are fucking he ALWAYS has to do back shots first.

Him seeing your ass bounce back on his dick as he breaks your back just gives him heart eyes.

100% has his hands on your ass at ALL times!

Even when making out especially

If you two are out walking and you have on jeans, he has his hand in one of your back pockets.

Aran Ojiro

Ugh black KING😫

He’s an ass man it’s the truth

HE HITS IT FROM THE BACK EVERY TIME!🗣️

Your with your friends in a party and your twerking? He is RIGHT behind you catching it.

“Damn Babe, did your ass get fatter or what?🥴” “It’s the same as always babe😂” “Definitely hitting it from the back again tonight..” “Oh hell nah! You nearly broke my back last time!😭” “Baby that ain’t my fault you walking around with THAT behind you😍”

He is a SUCKERRRRRR for you in jeans

You know damn well he is gonna be staring

Always gives your ass a slap before going in a game or even practice

He does it to kinda embarrass you but he calls it his ‘Good luck charm’

Sloppy make out sessions on his bed with you on his lap. His hands placed on your ass, squeezing and rubbing the soft surface as your arms are wrapped around his neck. Pulling him closer into the kiss making it even messier.

“You wanna fuck?” “Aran No!!” CAN NOT have a make out session without you guys fucking afterwards.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Lets be honest here

He stares with NO shame!

When walking together in public he’s always behind you

He doesn’t want anyone to stare at what’s his

Another one that was flabbergasted when he saw the recoil.

Short scenario:

You and your friends are having fun at a club. Ushijima and his team are chilling and talking. They hear cheers and look over to see you twerking on your friend, having a good ass time. NOW you at the time has TIGHT ass jeans. He blushed a little and his jaw dropped seeing how smooth and effortlessly you where doing it. You where barely moving and yet it was jiggling.

Hugs you from behind just to feel your ass rub against his crotch

As lewd as he thinks it is, he can’t help it

Don’t matter where or what time he is STARING!!

Your cooking and your back is facing towards him? He’s looking

You walk past him to leave and hang out with friends? He’s LOOKING (and tried to sneakily take a picture but fails cause his flash was on)

Even during practice he is staring!

“Wakatoshi quit staring at Y/n and focus on practice!!” Coach yelled and he nods going back to practice.

Tsukishima Kei

Ohohohoho lord…

Every second he gets, he’s slapping that ass

“Oh sorry Y/n, there was a bug on you~” “Mother fucker touch my ass again.” Guess what. He touches it.

Which resulted to him getting kicked where the sun don’t shine!

Looks like someone won’t be having kids!!

Jokes aside, he is VERY possessive

Gets mad at anyone and anything for looking.

Even if a kid just looks at you he’s gonna be like “What are you staring at?”

Like bro chill it’s a kid 💀

Loves to fuck you doggy style in front of a mirror and makes you watch.

“Look at that baby, you like getting pounded like this hm? Such a dirty little slut you are.”

2022 ©sᴜᴄᴋᴀ4ᴘᴀɪɴ — do not repost or translate my work. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcome!!

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mavrintarou · 1 year

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Lord Miya Osamu [1]

I really wanted to do this in one part but there's a lot I want to give to Lord Osamu. If you read this on my old account - I changed some stuff. If you're new here, welcome, please also check out the other Lords too while you're at it - I have series for Sakusa, Suna, Kita, Atsumu and now Osamu

Warning: none (this chapter); I present you - teasing Osamu

“Lord Miya, I heard your twin married? Are you here to scout your future wife?”

Miya Osamu rolled his eyes at the younger man. He clearly did not want to be here at the noble gathering. His parents had forced him to attend, since his twin, Atsumu has gotten married everyone has been putting pressure onto him too to settle down.

“I suppose, but I would prefer to be at home though.” Osamu answered with a forceful smile.

“I’ve caught a few names,” the young man continues to keep talking, as if Osamu wanted him to. He points to the young woman in the dark magenta kimono, “that’s Lady Uchida, the one next to her is Lady Imai and that last one is Lady Murata.”

Osamu looks at those three women who were just named off and showed no source of interests. They were all young woman who he was clearly not going to even bother engaging himself with.

One thing that Osamu has discovered about himself is that he… preferred older woman. He’s found himself staring at women who were older than him and would only be disappointed… when they’re already married.

He excuses himself from this unknown young man when he spotted his old friend, Lord Ojiro Aran.

“Thank goodness you’re here.” Osamu muttered under his breath. “Do they have any food here?”

When his tall friend didn’t respond to him, Osamu followed his gaze straight across to Lady Matsui Saeko, the only and younger sister of Lord Matsui Satoshi of Tokyo.

Osamu had made acquaintances with Lord Matsui a few times at the ochaya-house in Tokyo but besides that, they went their own ways.

Atsumu calls him a stuck-up punk.

From where Osamu was, he could see the pink blush forming on Lady Matsui’s cheeks. “You fancy Lady Matsui?”

Aran breaks the silent flirtation and coughs, “she’s pretty.”

Osamu scoffs, feeling like a third wheel right now. Ojiro Aran is a shy giant amongst the Miya twins. Atsumu holds the flirtation win for the both of them, but Osamu at least had more experiences than Aran.

He patted his giant buddy on the back, “go talk to her then, I’m going to go find the bathroom.”

. .

Osamu walks out of the washroom right when another person crossed his path. Before he could maneuver, they bumped right into his chest. Her audible gasp is enough for Osamu to know it’s a woman but what really determined it was where his hand was touching, her full chest.

He’s had a fair share of woman to know he is a man who is loves women with big breasts.

She takes a step back, glaring before noticing the crest symbol on his kimono – the Miya family crest that many knew of. She uttered an apology and ducked down to hurry around him.

Osamu caught a glimpse of her face but not enough to his liking and catches her wrist, halting her.

He wanted to see her face.

Her eyes narrow at his grip on her wrist before they look up at his with caution. “My apologies, my Lord. I didn’t mean to crash into you.”

“What is your name?” He asked softly. He doesn’t make it a habit to man-handle woman, absolutely hating it when other men do it, but he was merely inquiring her name.

It was a silent pause and she hesitated before sigh, “I am Lady Miyazaki Y/f/n, chaperone of Lady Matsui Saeko.” Her back straightens and she gave him exactly five seconds to let her words sink in.

Osamu’s brow shot up, stunned to hear she is a chaperone. A chaperone to the woman Aran has his eyes on.

His head tilts and he blink a few times, replaying her words. His eyes scan her face, instantly discovering her beauty. Her skin was fair and porcelain like and her hair was in a simple braid that rested on one side of her shoulder.

Confusion is written all over his face, he couldn’t understand how she is a chaperone.

All the chaperones he’s seen are older woman that are widows.

His eyes drop to her attire, it was a solid dark color, unlike the vibrant and beautiful prints like the other women in the main room. Her sleeve… was short, not long…

It clicked inside Osamu’s head…

She is a widow if she is a chaperone!

His eyes bulge out at her. She looked much too young to be a chaperone… let alone a widow if that’s what she is.

“Chaperone? You look very young to be a chaperone.” He blurted unintentionally.

Her chin tilt upwards and pulls her wrist free, “as far as I am aware, Lord Miya, there is no age nor a certain way a chaperone should look. And to answer you, yes, I am a widow.”

His expression must have given it away. “I’m don’t mean to –"

“It is fine, I can see it on your face, my Lord.” She offers a small smile and bows her head slightly, “I’ll take my leave now, enjoy the rest of your evening.”

. .

Osamu lays in his chamber that night, thoughts running wild to that chaperone.

He ended up staying the whole three hours, just watching as the young chaperone lurked to the side with the other older chaperones. Much older chaperones who made her stick out like a sore thumb.

He would engage in conversations but discreetly continue to glance in her direction. She would occasionally smile and nod her head to whatever the other chaperones were saying to her, and he wanted to badly go and save her – knowing well, she was not interested in whatever they were spewing at her. She did not fit in with the older women.

He engraved her smile into his mind, wishing she turn and smile at him.

He saw her one last time as she stood behind Lady Matsui, waiting for her young lady to finish her conversation with Aran. Osamu steps beside his friend but stared past the young lady to her chaperone who looks at him briefly before lowering her gaze.

“May I see you this week for tea?” Gentleman Aran asked.

“I would love that.” Lady Matsui replied with sparkling eyes. She glances at Osamu and follows his gaze, which was upon her chaperone. “What about you, Lord Miya? Did you meet any future companion tonight?”

Osamu breaks out of his thoughts of trying to get Lady Miyazaki to look at him again. “Ah,” he clears his throat, looking at Aran and Lady Matsui, “yeah, I did but… I think I have my eyes on someone else.”

Aran’s brow hikes at his friend, it made him nervous if Osamu shows any interests in a woman. He might be the calmer twin, but when he has his eyes set on someone or something, he will not stop until he has it. Aran wasn’t blind, he could see the tension between his friend and the chaperone, how they know one another is a mystery to him.

Lady Matsui’s eyes widen, “someone here? Tonight?”

“Correct,” Osamu answered, keeping his eyes on Lady Miyazaki. “I wish to get to know her more.” At that, she looks up to catch his eyes and he smiles.

Osamu tosses and turns, unable to find a peaceful position. His mind wondered to many things. How old is she? How long was she married for before she became a widow? Can she cook? What does she plan to do when Lady Matsui marries?

Like a teenage boy, he couldn’t remember the last time he pinned over a woman like this… or if he ever did pin over a woman to this extent.

His last thoughts before sleep finally took over was, I want to see her again.

. .

Y/n’s ears perked up as she hears Saeko’s say, “oh Lord Miya, you’re here too?”

Looking up her eyes connected with the tall man who comes out from behind Lord Ojiro. “Good evening, Lady Matsui and Lady Miyazaki.”

Y/n bows her head in silent. Since their introduction two times ago, she feels as if there is something up Lord Miya Osamu’s sleeves.

It was unusual for a male who is looking to court to have a tail following him around.

Lord Ojiro sigh, “I hope you don’t mind; I ran into Lord Miya on my way here and he asked to join.”

“Oh, it is fine, perhaps…” Saeko glances at Y/n from the corner of her eyes, “Y/n-san can keep Lord Miya company.”

Y/n turns her head, slightly cocked and looking at Saeko directly in the eyes. “I’m sure Lord Miya will find more interests doing other things than to hang out with an old dowager like –“

“You are not old, my Lady.” Osamu cuts of her off with a charming smile. “If I didn’t know, I would have believed you and Lady Matsui is the same age.”

Saeko lets out a giggle, “Y/n isn’t much older than me, she just likes to act like she is an old lady.” She clapped her hands together, “shall we go down to the night festival?”

. .

“My Lord, you do not need to walk beside me.” Y/n finally addressed, with a quiet tone. After seeing a handful of faces turning in her direction, she needed to clear the air.

They are confused that an unmarried Lord is not only at her side but close to her as well.

When a man has taken interests in a woman, the distance between them shows the desire of closeness of the two.

Y/n has tried to slow her steps, spacing out the distance between them discreetly but Lord Osamu would only close in the distance, smiling down at her innocently.

“What was that?” He shifted himself lower.

She could see the smirk and teasing grin on his face. She cleared her throat, “you do not need to walk beside me. I… I don’t want people to suggest anything about you.”

His eyes scan their surroundings, “tell me who, I’ll talk to them if they have an issue.”

Y/n lets out a soft huff and Osamu’s lips twitched, wanting to smile. “My Lord I do not –“

“Do not fret, Y/n-chan, I’ll make sure no one will speak ill of you.”

She wanted to slap that cheeky grin off his face.

Letting out a deep exhale, she nodded her head and walked ahead without another word. She can feel him trailing behind her.

“Watch out!”

Everything happened so fast, all she could remember was the out-of-control beast running by.

Y/n closed her eyes as she tries to calm her accelerated heart. Her head rests a split second against the soft but firm wall before her eyes shot wide and she looked up.

In the short time that she has gotten to know Lord Miya Osamu, he has always been playful, teasing, and happy. She has yet to see his serious side.

He looks down at her, expression immediately changed. With worried eyes, he asked, “are you okay? That man’s beast is out of control and is going to hurt someone.”

Mesmerized by his soft eyes, Y/n forgotten how it feels to allow a man to look her direction.

Quickly she looked away and pulled away from his arms, clearing her throat. “We should find…” She looks around, “where is Lord Aran? And Lady Saeko?”

. .

It has been twenty minutes since their split and Lord Aran and Lady Matsui is nowhere to be found.

Out of breath, Y/n looks at Lord Miya for assistance when the grin on his face made her narrow her eyes at him. “You…” she points an accusing finger at him, “you’re up to something, aren’t you?”

He raises his hands up in defense, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just as concern as you are… poor… Ojiro… is lost…”

Y/n looks around frustrated. “If I find out you two are… up to something… I will…” she stopped her accusation, remembering who she was talking to. “Help me look for them.”

Osamu hid his amusement; he has never found a frustrated woman so attractive before.

“Y/n!”

Both their heads shot to the right, Osamu heard the sigh of relief and pouted. Though it was not planned, he enjoyed the short-lived alone time with her.

Shaking his head with a small smile on his face, he followed her towards the other couple.

“Where did you guys go?” Y/n asked immediately to Lady Saeko, who glanced up at Osamu for a second.

Osamu winked and looked at Aran who shook his head.

“Where did you guys go?” Lady Saeko asked, “you guys were behind us one second and the next… you guys were gone.”

“This beast got out of control back there and that’s probably where we lost each other,” Y/n answered, “it is late, shall we say good night to Lord Aran and Lord Miya?”

Lady Saeko’s pouted but nodded, “give us a second.”

Y/n nods and she walks towards the tree, giving them space.

Lord Osamu snaps out of the daze and follows Y/n when Aran cleared his voice.

Osamu stood a few feet away from Y/n just watching other couples chat and gaze lovingly at one another. A sudden rush of feelings hit him.

How alone he was.

It wasn’t that the thought never crossed him, he just never thought much about finding a significant other.

Until his twin married, then he realized that he too has reached the age of settling down.

“Lord Miya.”

Turning his head, Y/n stepped closer to him, her hands clasped together. “I… I just want to say I’m sorry about earlier. My accusation towards you.” She bowed her head, “I’m sorry.”

His eyes widen for a split second.

He noticed the pink in her cheek and felt pleased at the tingling feeling within him.

Osamu couldn’t help but blurted, “you can make it up to me?”

He was pushing his luck when he saw her eyes flash and was about to say he was just joking when she quietly responded, “what can I do to make it up to you, my Lord?”

. .

Y/n smiles and nods her head, continuing to peel an apple for the both of them as Saeko talked her ears off about Lord Aran in the main room.

“He’s just so… such a gentleman.” She sighs deeply, “I can’t wait to marry him.”

“Saeko,” Y/n splits the apple in half, hold one half out to her. “Don’t get too carried away now…” Saeko snatches the apple and there’s a look on her face that made Y/n freeze. “What is up with that look?”

“What about Lord Miya Osamu?”

Y/n lets out a scoff, “there is nothing going on between Lord Miya and I.”

Saeko rolls her eye, “it doesn’t look like that…” she scoots closer to the older woman, “do you seriously not see Lord Miya smitten by you? His eyes are only on you the last –“

“Saeko,” Y/n says her name with a warning. “Lord Miya is much too young for me.”

She snorted, muttering “too young.” A brow lifts, “why do you act like that?”

Y/n frown, “act like what?”

“Like you’re not lonely.”

“Because I’m not lonely…”

“That is a lie. You got a taste of love; don’t you miss it?”

Y/n looks away, “I miss your brother. He is the only one I miss.”

“But you must move on, right? Tadashi would have wanted that too?”

“I’m not ready yet… and Lord Miya… he… he is just flirting. It is all a game to him –“

One of the Matsui servant stands at the doorway with a small box. “This just arrived.”

“Who is it for?” Saeko pipped, standing up to reach for the box. She reads the writing on the tag and her face expression changes. Her brows perk up as she looks straight at Y/n, “it’s for you.”

“For me?” Y/n frown, “are you sure?”

Saeko hands it over, “yes, Ms. Miyazaki Y/n.” Her tone made Y/n narrow her eyes and Saeko wink, “from Lord Miya Osamu.”

. .

Lord Aran marries Lady Matsui five weeks later, skipping the tradition of first proposal, then engagement and finally, wedding.

Osamu couldn’t thank his friend enough. Now this made it easier for him to approach and have some privacy with Lady Miyazaki without her pulling the excuse of having to chaperone Lady Matsui.

Osamu had pestered Aran to allow him to tag along on their dates, claiming he is keeping Lady Miyazaki company while he engages with Lady Matsui.

“I’m just going to keep Lady Miyazaki company,” he assured for the many times after Aran giving him a suspicious look.

“She’s just a chaperon, you know?”

“I know.”

“Will your parents be okay with it?”

“We’ll find out when we cross that bridge.”

Osamu attends the wedding ceremony and the first person he searches for is Lady Miyazaki.

Which he found easily. She was beside Lady Matsui and her parents.

As if she could sense him, she looks up catches his eyes.

Osamu winks and steps up to greet the groom and bride. “Congratulations Lord Aran and Lady Aran, wishing you two a graceful life with nothing but love and joy.”

He turns towards the Matsui family and bows before doing the same with the Aran family.

Osamu take his place with his mother and father as guest continues to arrive and greet the groom and bride. His eyes remain on Lady Miyazaki who refuses to look at him throughout the time.

He looked away for one second and when he looks up, she was gone. He excused himself and quickly searched for her knowing she had exit out the door that was closest to her. He catches her turn around the corner and hurries after her.

“Lady Miyazaki,” he calls out perfectly loud and clear, knowing she heard him. “Lady Miya… zaki,” he called again, emphasizing on the Miya part of her surname.

It had dawned on him one night in bed that she already had part of his surname already.

She spins around, and fury is burning in her eyes and Osamu froze in place. Heart beating fast and loud against his chest.

God she’s beautiful mad, he thought to himself.

She marches towards him, “what do you want?” she grits, no formality.

“I just want to know where you are going,” he answered innocently.

“I don’t know nor care what you are up to, Miya-san but whatever it is, you better stop it right now.”

Osamu’s cock twitched inside of his pants at her calling him Miya-san. If she weren’t so mad at him, he would have begged her to say it one time.

“I just want to talk to you.” He gives her puppy eyes.

“What could you and I possibly talk about?!” She squeezes her eyes shut while inhaling, trying to calm herself. She exhales deeply, “Lord Miya, thank you for the sweets and hair pin you have gifted me, but this has got to stop.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, “I have been far too nice and hoped you would find no interest in me after some time, but it doesn’t seem like it.” She inhales sharply. “I’m only going to tell you this once, you need to refrain from flirting with me, it is not acceptable.”

At each true accusation she made at him, his smile grew bigger. “But you like them, right?”

She was about to strangle him but instead, she spun her heels and walked away.

Osamu sighs softly. He knows he takes his teasing too far sometimes, but he can’t help it when she reacts in a way that makes him want to tease her even more.

She didn’t move very far because he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms. Her eyes bulge out, realizing that if anyone walked by this moment it would not look appropriate.

The more she struggled to escape out of his arms the tighter he held onto her.

“Stop. Just listen to me.”

She learned quickly that it was no use fighting or arguing with him and ceased her struggling. “Fine,” she breathes, shutting her eyes and exhaling slowly.

Osamu swallows, this is the closest he’s been to her face, and she looked absolutely stunning. Possibly the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

Her eyes open, “what is it –”

He kissed her.

Osamu took advantage and slipped his tongue inside her mouth, letting it touch hers. His grip on her wrists tightens as she tries to free herself.

It only took the next second for her to melt against him, to surrendering to his touch.

He moans when she kisses him back just as eagerly with the same amount of fire.

He backs her against the side of the house, pressing himself against her. He breaks away from her lips, panting for air. She is the same, but her eye slowly open, staring into his.

If he isn’t wrong, she looks as if he just kissed her to heaven.

Her lips slightly ajar, as if silently pleading for more.

And Osamu’s lips hover over hers, silently asking for permission this time.

He is surprised when she tilts her head and kisses him.

And he takes it.

He kisses her passionately and breaks away to trail kisses along her jaw and to her neck, she willingly tilts her head, offering herself. Her soft whimpers are music to his ears, and it drove him crazy. His hand is gripping her kimono tightly, wanting nothing more than to rip it off.

A loud thud startles them, and someone was fumbling around the corner.

Y/n gasp and shoves him away, catching him off guard. He stumbled backwards hitting the railing and flipping over onto the bushes.

. .

He’s been searching for her for the past twenty minutes. After he got himself out of the bush, he got lost trying to find his way back onto the porch to get into the house that he ended climbing over the railings. He went back into the main room, seeing the newly wedded couples but no sign of Y/n.

“’Samu-san, you’re still here?” Aran called, shocked to see his friend whom he thought left.

Osamu, out of breath nods his head, “yeah – I… I just stepped out for a second.”

Lady Matsui, now Lady Aran, motioned her hand for Osamu to come closer. “Where is Y/n?”

“I don’t know, I was going to ask you.” Osamu whispered back.

Osamu remembers the moment Lady Aran confronted him if the someone he referred to was Lady Miyazaki.

He didn’t deny it.

“Lady Miyazaki married my cousin from my mother’s side in Miyagi. They grew up together, but Tadashi had a lifelong illness, and we knew he… he wouldn’t have much time left after he turned eighteen.” She continued explaining that they married young and that she spent the last eight-months by his side. “I believe she truly loved Tadashi but… she still young, she still has a long time to go. She shouldn’t be alone.”

Y/n had refused to move back into her family home. After her husband’s death she continue to live with his family until the Matsui family asked if she would like to be Lady Saeko’s chaperone.

“Many mistaken her as my sister which is why she decided to change her entire wardrobe so everyone would know, she is a married woman and a widow.”

Lady Aran shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, “I haven’t seen her for a while now.”

Osamu nods and excuses himself. He walks around the compound searching for her and found no sight of her.

His frustration was beginning to show until sees her crouched down and handing something to three small toddlers. The smile on her face softens and washed away the anxiety in him.

If only she would smile like that towards him.

As he got closer, he sees what she’s handing the children and sticks his hand out, “can I have one too?”

Four pair of eyes look up to him.

The little girl was startled by his stature and dropped her food. Her gaze snaps down at her feet and back up at him and her eyes immediately teared up.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Y/n assured but the little girl began to cry. She looked up at Osamu with a glare silently saying look what you did.

“Sorry,” he mutters, scratching the back of his head. He watches Y/n tell her she’ll make her a new one and guided the children towards the kitchen.

With no shame, he followed them.

He watched along with the children as she quickly makes a onigiri replacement and hands it to the little girl, “here you go.”

For the second time, his hand is out, “what about me?”

Lady Miyazaki ignores him until one of the little boys looks between the two adults. “Y/n-chan, he wants one too.”

Osamu’s lips curve, winking at the boy.

A soft sigh escapes her lips, and she begins grabbing ingredients and patting it together before holding it out to him to take. She doesn’t look at him, so Osamu grabs her wrist and takes a bite out of the onigiri from her fingers.

The eyes of the children widen at the two adults.

“What are you doing?” Y/n whispers loud enough for him to hear.

He holds her wrist still and groans while chewing. He plucks the remaining out of her hand. “This is really good.”

One of the children makes a weird noise before turning their heels and the other two followed quietly.

Y/n was about to make a dash for it when Osamu catches her by the elbow. “Hold on,” he chuckles at her death glare.

Her expression changes immediately when she looks at him weirdly.

He stares at her confused. “Is there something on my face?”

She frowns and sighs, “how do you not know you are bleeding on your cheek?”

He was? Osamu reaches to touch his cheek and his finger stained with nothing.

“It’s dried now.” She pulls her elbow out of his grasp and walks around him. Osamu watches quietly as she pulls out box. “Sit,” she orders, pointing to the chair.

His cock twitch inside of his Hakama pants. Immediately, he sits in the chair she pointed to, finishing the rest of the onigiri in one bite. Silently, he watches her rummage through the box of medical supplies.

She pours some water into a metal bowl and dips the gauze in water before standing before him.

Even though he’s sitting down, his face was eye leveled with her breasts.

She tilts his chin gently upward and dabs gauze right below his right eye.

He truly didn’t know this scratch existed and couldn’t be more thankful of it.

If it meant having her touch him, he’d gladly take any scratch anytime and anywhere.

Her touch is gentle, and she is so engrossed that she doesn’t realize that he has pulled her in between his legs and his fingers resting faintly behind her knees.

“Sorry,” she whispers, wiping the dry blood away. Though it was a scrape, she still felt terrible.

She stepped away from him to grab something out of the aid box, Lord Osamu sighed in disappointment but immediately perked up when she steps in between his legs again. She applies an ointment on the scratch and at last, looks down into his eyes. She blinks and steps away, but he holds her still, locking his arm beneath her bottom.

She panics and pushes against his shoulders, but he holds her still. She looks around, seeing no one nearby, “let me go,” she whispered.

“I like you, Lady Miyazaki.” He tells her sincerely. “I am very attracted to you.”

She ignored him, continuing to get out of his hold.

But he wasn’t going to let that happen.

He tightened his hold on her until she submitted.

“Lord Miya, please let me go.” When he doesn’t bulge, she sighs, almost defeatedly. “You cannot like me; I am a widow.”

The smile on his face tells her he didn’t care. “You can do better than that.” When she doesn’t find humor in his comment, he lets out a soft sigh, “I don’t care. I don’t care that you’re a widow or anything else.”

“Well, you should!” she snaps but her eyes soften. “You are a single nobleman; you are still young, and you should not waste your time on me.” Her voice fades, “I’m not fit for you.”

“Look at me.” Slowly, her eyes look down into his. “I get to decide who is fit for me and I know you are.”

“There are many suitable Ladies out there that are better fit for you.” Her eyes drop to his lips, and she remembers how they felt against hers. “Why are you even pursing me, Osamu-san?” her voice was barely a whisper. Her eyes softens as she tells him quietly, “I have already given myself to my late husband, therefore I’m not fit for you even if I wanted to be with you.”

That was all he needed to hear. That she wants to be with him too.

His thumb draws along her jawline. “I don’t care if you are a widow or already given yourself to your late husband.” His thumb runs along her lower lip, “I will accept you as long as you accept me.”

Osamu hated that he could not hear her thoughts nor read her expression.

It was the longest minute of his life, felt like an eternity.

His heart nearly stopped when she nods her head. “If you accept me, then I… accept you too.”

He leaps onto his feet and towers over her small petite body. He tilts her head back and kisses her lips.

Their lips synchronize together, and he smiles when he hears her sharp inhale when nips her lower lip.

Her hands grasp the collars of haori, and she moans softly into his mouth. She hasn’t been kissed like this in almost three years, her body heating up like never before.

They both pull away, catching their breaths.

She feels his heartbeat underneath her palm, beating hard and fast.

For her.

Her eyes meet his and for the first time, she smiles and breaks out into a chuckle.

Osamu’s heart is ready to explode at the sight of her smile.

He opened his mouth to ask her what is funny when a few gasps have them pulling away from each other to look and see the three previous children and a few more different faces. “We are hungry too...”

Osamu is beside Y/n making onigiri with her for the four other children that’s waiting patiently for some food.

He peeks at her and nudges her gently, “what are you going to do now that Lady Aran is married now?”

“Sleep in?” She answers after a few seconds.

Osamu smiles like a fool in love, he’s getting flustered with her relaxed persona.

“Remember when… you said you’ll make it up to me…” She raises a brow at him. “May I take you up on that request?”

“Yes, you may.” She answers softly.

“Would I be able to meet you tomorrow evening?”

She looks up at him. “Where shall I meet you?”

He smiles, dimple appearing on his left cheek, “I will be honor to come fetch you if you need a guide outdoor?”

For the first time in her life, she didn’t hesitate. “I’d like that.”

. .

Though they weren’t going to meet until closer to the evening, Y/n spent the entire day choosing the right outfit.

“You should choose the yellow one.” Spinning around, Y/n is greeted by Lady Matsui, Saeko’s mother. “Are you going out?” She enters her room and slides the door close behind her.

“Yes, aunty.” Y/n answers quietly, turning her body towards the person who has treated her like a daughter than a guest during her entire stay.

“Is this person you’re meeting… Lord Miya Osamu?” She had curiosity written all over her face. When Y/n inhales sharply, the older woman continued to tease her. “I know when a man is in love. I see his eyes on you following you everywhere you go.”

Y/n exhales softly, “yes, it is Lord Osamu.”

“Come here,” she waves her fingers at Y/n to come closer. “Do not punish yourself for thinking you cannot have a second time at love. Tadashi would have wanted you to move on. And you should. There is so much life ahead of you – do not live alone.” A hand pats Y/n’s head in a loving motherly manner. “Though… Lord Osamu… was not who I imagine you go for but… I won’t stop you.”

Y/n looks up, a smile on her lips. “I tried to not be swayed by him, aunty, but I can’t stop my heart.”

“And you shouldn’t.”

Y/n waits outside the Matsui’s gates dressed in a light-yellow kimono.

She had gotten so used to wearing black attires that it felt strange to wear anything else.

“You look wonderful.”

She looks up to see Lord Miya stand a few feet away in a very similar color kimono. He walks over and her mouth curve into a shy smile.

“Ready?”

She nodded and followed beside him.

“I hope you don’t have a curfew?” He inquired softly.

Y/n shook her head, looking up at him and then the night. The night was dark with the brewing clouds that even the moon didn’t have the chance to shine. She frowns, “I hope it doesn’t rain.”

“Don’t jinx it please.”

“By the time you think of something to write, your brush would be dried.”

Breakout out of her zone, she looks at Osamu and then the brush between her fingers. “Oh…” She dabs the tip back into the ink. “I’m just having trouble writing a message.”

He smiles, “don’t think too much, just write what comes to you.” He already had his message written and his lantern is lit – ready to launch.

Y/n looks down at her lantern again and her hand begins scribbling.

With you, I’ll be okay.

Osamu smiles as he assists with her lantern.

“Ready?” He holds his lantern as she held hers, she nods and together, they lifted their lanterns, guiding it until it lifts off their hands.

They watched the lanterns float higher and higher.

Osamu’s hand nudged hers before sliding his hand to interlace their fingers. His heart pound loudly as he anticipated she would pull her hand away, but she didn’t.

She squeezed his hand in return, tightening her hold.

Osamu thinks he’s dreaming.

Dreaming that Y/n is sitting across from him, belly laughing at his stories about his childhood.

Dreaming that Y/n is smiling at him.

Dreaming that Y/n is giving him this opportunity he never thought would be possible.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” The smile on her face makes Osamu’s heart melt. She reaches a hand out to touch the pouring rain from the window. “It’s raining really hard tonight.”

The rain came down hard and heavy that Osamu and Y/n ran to the nearest shelter that happened to be a local restaurant. They ordered some food and ate waiting for the rain to pass.

Y/n turns to look at Osamu, “is there something on my face? Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked for the second time, touching her face. Her cheeks blushing under his intense gaze.

“You’re so beautiful, that’s why.” She looks down at her tea that’s cool now. He angles his head to look at her face that was a darker shade of pink.

Osamu opened his mouth but was interrupted by a man barging into the restaurant, muddy from head to toe. “Help! Help! There’s a mudslide!”

Y/n’s knuckles are white from clenching so hard. Osamu had left with the other men to help assist with the mudslide and it’s been over thirty minutes.

She was about to run out there herself when they returned, all muddy.

Osamu was unrecognizable with all the mud smeared on him. He makes his way to her and cracks a smile with his arms open wide. “Hug?”

Y/n chewed nervously on her lower lip. She stood by the window waiting for Osamu to return from the bath house.

The heavy rain showed no signs of stopping and they were too far out to make it back home. Due to the high demands, Osamu was only able to rent one room with one futon.

She had changed into the yukata that was provided and taken Osamu’s dirty clothes to clean them.

For the fifth time, she fixed the clothes so they would air dry hopefully by the morning.

Her fingers run across the Miya crest on the collar of his Haori.

“You know you already have half my surname, right?”

She spun around to see Osamu standing against the wall in his yukata, loosely around his frame.

She swallowed and looked away, “I am aware, yes.” She steps away from his clothing and points to the futon, “you can have the futon, my Lord.”

His brows knitted, ”are we back to that again? My Lord?” he mimics. He stands in front of her in a few long strides. “May I ask you, Lady Miya… zaki…” his knuckles graze her jaw. His breath hitched when she leaned into his touch, looking up at him. “At first, you intrigued me to no ends. Your reactions to my teasing only made me want to tease you even more. I never…” An arm wraps around her waist to pull her closer. “I never thought you allow or even let me get close to you like this.” His hand closest to her face tilts her chin upward. His lips near hers, “does it scare you… like it scares me?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“I am a hot-blooded man and I’m trying everything in my powers to not forget I am a gentleman, and I should probably sleep outside –“

“I don’t want that…”

The tip of his nose rubs hers, his lips hovering just over hers. “What do you want?” he asked huskily.

Her answer takes him by surprise.

“You.” She pecks his lips. “Just you.”

He allowed her lips to move over his before he pulls back, letting out a frustrated groan. “I didn’t understand why Ojiro was in such a hurry to wed Lady Matsui but…” he knocks his forehead gently with hers. "I think I understand now.” His lips hover over hers and his face grimace of pain, “I will not survive the night until morning if I don’t stay elsewhere.”

“Where do you wish to stay?”

“If I had my way, with you.”

“Then stay with me.”

He lets out a sigh, “I cannot trust myself with you, love.”

She pulls him closer by the collar of his yukata. “I need you.”

. . . >>> @hellatrashdontask @queenelleee @wrongimagine @eadyladlegard @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @satoritendoucultsacrifice @yourgonvermnethooker @littlemochi @cloud-lyy @pana-dolle @basmamme @itsroseally @warrior-of-justice @jmnfilter @captainchrisstan @omissanitizerlol

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pearlsephoni · 8 months

Text

Just Between Us

Can also be read on AO3!

Rating: E

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairing: Kagehina (Kageyama/Hinata), mentions of Bokuaka (Bokuto/Akaashi) and Iwaoi (Iwaizumi/Oikawa)

Characters: Shoyo Hinata, Tobio Kageyama, Atsumu Miya, Kotaro Bokuto, cameos from Korai Hoshiumi, Wakatoshi Ushijima, Aran Ojiro, Tooru Oikawa, and Hajime Iwaizumi

Word Count: 12.5k

Summary: Hinata Shoyo has fulfilled his greatest dreams: reach the top of the volleyball world with Kageyama Tobio, and be loved by Kageyama Tobio. One is very public, while the other is hidden only for each other and their closest loved ones. A risk gone wrong threatens to change that.

A/N: Originally published on AO3 on June 24th for @/Lmc_thph this year's Kagehina Exchange, and beta'd by @/danatooine. Further author's notes can be found on AO3.

***

“God damn, Tobio-kun!”

Shoyo’s shoulders shot up with Kageyama’s, even though his name wasn’t called. When he looked around, he immediately saw the cause for Atsumu’s loud surprise, and his heart sank.

The broad, defined, beautiful expanse of Kageyama’s back was marred by red lines, a set of four on each of his shoulder blades like wings.

There was a burst of shuffling and murmuring as other members of the National Team tried to get a look at Kageyama’s back. To Shoyo’s relief, the setter had already tugged his practice jersey on, covering up the implicating marks.

“Didn’t think ya had it in ya!” Atsumu cooed with a shit-eating grin. “Who’s the lucky lady? Or— hold on, you’re gay, right?”

“Please stop talking, Atsumu-san,” Kageyama muttered. Atsumu did not look like he was going to listen, but Kageyama was saved by Ushijima clapping his hands and urging the lingering team members to get out to the court already.

Shoyo didn’t look away from Kageyama fast enough to avoid meeting his eyes for the briefest breath, and he felt a jolt up his spine at the stormy anger in that blue gaze.

Oh, he was fucked.

***

“Fuck me.”

Shoyo pulled away to stare wide-eyed at Kageyama. “Really? But your team won the 3-on-3’s.”

“Yeah, so I get to choose. Fuck me.”

Oh. Huh. Shoyo was straddling Kageyama’s hips, fully prepared to stretch himself out and seat himself on his thick length. That was how it usually went when Kageyama won a game, and Shoyo had nearly gotten them exposed to the team. Honestly, he’d been kind of…looking forward to what kind of punishment Kageyama was going to dole out.

Not that he was going to complain. He eagerly scrambled to climb off of Kageyama’s hips and in between his legs, grabbing the bottle of lube on the journey. “What’s the occasion?” he asked as he slicked up his fingers.

“Do I need an occasion for you to fuck me?” Kageyama grumbled.

“Mm-hm! Maybe you remembered how much you love me, or how good I played earlier, or how I fuck you better than— wah!” His clean hand just barely caught Kageyama’s foot before it could collide with his face.

“Are you going to fuck me, or not?”

“Patience, Bossy-yama,” Shoyo cooed, brushing a light kiss to the inside of Kageyama’s ankle. He heard a quiet, sharp inhale, and he smirked into Kageyama’s soft skin before brushing another kiss to his ankle, then the inside of his knee, then tracing a path along the inside of his thigh.

With every brush of his lips, Kageyama’s breaths quickened, until his lips hovered over the hard curve of Kageyama’s cock. His tongue darted out to lick at his flushed cockhead, and that finally dragged a hoarse “Sho…” from Kageyama’s wet lips.

“Hm?” Shoyo hummed, looking up with wide, innocent eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Kageyama was flushed with heavy-lidded eyes, but he still scowled down at Shoyo with stubbornly closed lips. Shoyo didn’t mind—he knew how to break him. “Gotta use your words, To-bi-o,” he sang, brushing a kiss along his cock with every syllable of his name.

“I already did,” Kageyama bit out. He wrapped a leg around Shoyo’s waist, dragging his foot up until it pressed into the small of his back. “Fuck me.”

“Bossy,” Shoyo tutted. Without warning, he sank a finger into Kageyama, smirking when his foot immediately dropped from his back and went limp on the bed, matching the way his head fell back with a low moan.

He loved fucking Kageyama, loved feeling him wrapped tight and warm around him, but he especially loved watching him unravel like this. It was one thing to watch him grit his teeth and furrow his brows with concentration as he pounded Shoyo into oblivion, that concentration breaking only when Shoyo clenched tight around him. It was another thing entirely to melt him down from the inside out.

One finger became two, then became three, all crooked perfectly and pressing just enough to pull another cry from Kageyama. “Fuck, Sho—!”

“I know,” Shoyo hushed, leaning up to ghost a kiss against Kageyama’s wet, parted lips.

“I’m ready,” Kageyama groaned. “I’m ready, c’mon, just— mmh!”

“Okay, okay!” A fond huff of laughter escaped him as he reached for the lube. “Condom?”

“No.” Sweat-damp strands of black hair clung to the pillow as Kageyama shook his head, unable to even lift it.

“Really?” The word came out as more of a moan than a question, Shoyo’s concentration nearly escaping him at the slick grip of his own hand around his throbbing cock. He was almost dizzy from how badly he wanted to pump himself fast and hard, but he held himself back, letting the wet, filthy sounds of his strokes reach both his and Kageyama’s ears. Those dark blue eyes widened for a beat, before growing heavy with desire again.

“No condom?” Shoyo murmured, leaning down just enough to bump their noses together. “You want me to fill you up? You want to spill with me? What if you can’t get it all out and it leaks tomorrow?” Anyone else might have looked mortified at the thought, but not Kageyama. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip, biting back another moan. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Want everyone to know their best setter is a slut who gets filled up after practice?”

“M’not—” Kageyama’s protest trailed off into a shuddered breath of anticipation, distracted by Shoyo lining his tip up with his stretched rim.

“I know,” Shoyo hummed with a smirk. “You don’t spread your legs for just anyone, right? The only one allowed here”—he began pushing in, watching Kageyama wilt against the bed—“is me.”

“Only you,” Kageyama breathlessly agreed, wrapping his legs around Shoyo’s hips. “C’mon, Sho, fill me up.”

“Fuck.” That was all Shoyo could manage, all his focus narrowed on slowly pushing in, bit by bit, soaking in the sound of Kageyama’s bit-back moans and the sight of his heaving, flushed chest, until their hips finally met. “Good?”

“Wait,” Kageyama gasped, eyes screwed tight from the stretch.

This was one of the only situations where Shoyo was happy to wait. He trailed kisses and lightly sucked at Kageyama’s collarbones as the setter adjusted, pulling away just to watch his bites bloom like roses against his pale skin. Normally, this was the only time he could mark Kageyama up without getting yelled at, his nags replaced with shuddering sighs from the stretch.

But instead of melting more, Kageyama seemed to become unnervingly alert, eyes fluttering up to look down at Shoyo and lips curving down around his deep breaths. When he finally said, “I’m ready,” his voice came out more as a grunt than a sigh.

Shoyo obeyed, but not without asking, “Is something wrong?”

“What?”

“You look grumpier than usual.” Truthfully, Kageyama rarely looked grumpy at all in bed, but Shoyo wasn’t going to pass up a chance to tease him.

“Maybe because a dumbass nearly had us found out today,” Kageyama snapped. Despite his grumpy words, his legs tightened around Shoyo’s hips, urging him to move.

“You like when I mark you up!”

“Yeah, in places people won’t notice! Not—ah!—scratches the whole locker room sees!”

“Who asked you to—nngh—change in the middle of the locker room?”

“Who asked you to scratch up my whole back?”

“Didn’t hear you complain last night!”

“You little—mmh!”

Shoyo dipped down and cut him off with a kiss, his hips speeding up with every bite and lick. Driving into Kageyama with nothing between them was sublime. It never failed to drive Shoyo’s greed and want higher and higher with every thrust—

“Aahhh, the hell—?!” Shoyo arched away from the nails digging into his back, scratching sharp lines down his skin and making a mixture of pain and pleasure spark through him. His hips stuttered before driving in even deeper than before, pulling a whine from Kageyama. “Ow, Tobi!”

Shoyo’s heart skipped a beat at Kageyama’s smirk. How could someone look so annoying and so hot? “Oops.”

“You were just nagging me about that!”

“I wasn’t nagging— ah, fuck, there!”

Shoyo pushed himself upright until his hands were free to clutch at Kageyama’s hips, holding him in place so he could thrust fast and deep and hard into his prostate. The pressure would’ve been too much for Shoyo, but it was perfect for Kageyama, unraveling him until he was reduced to wordless gasps and moans.

“Good, Yama?”

“Ah, ahhhh, Sho, fuck!”

“That a yes?”

“Fuck off, you know— fuck!”

Shoyo felt spellbound, watching Kageyama like this: flushed, sweaty, black hair a mess, eyes half-lidded and dazed, lips kiss-swollen and parted around helpless noises. A grin pulled at his lips when those noises grew higher and almost-panicked. That was Shoyo’s cue to wrap his hand, still slippery with traces of lube, around Kageyama’s cock. He only needed one tug to make Kageyama cry out, “Yes!” That normally-gruff voice was ragged and whining, adorned with slutty moans that Shoyo knew only he would get to hear.

“Close, Tobi?”

“Yeah, fuck, Sho—”

“C’mon, baby, come for me.” Shoyo dipped down to brush his lips over the marks he’d sucked into Kageyama’s collarbones. “I wanna feel you go all tight around me.”

He punctuated the sentence with an extra squeeze to Kageyama’s cock. That was all he needed—with a cry, Kageyama arched off of the bed as white spurted across his abs and down Shoyo’s hand. His walls rippled around Shoyo, sucking him in deeper and tighter until he had no choice but to fall over the edge behind him. “Nnh, Tobio,” he groaned, grinding in until he finally emptied himself.

His cum was already seeping out around his softening length, and when he pulled out, he could barely grab a towel in time to stem the small stream that began to leak. “Wow, I filled you up,” he laughed breathlessly.

Kageyama didn’t respond beyond a low groan until Shoyo finished wiping him as clean as he could. The moment the towel left his skin, he planted a foot on Shoyo’s stomach and gently nudged him away, wincing at the movement in his leg. “Ow,” he grunted, weakly rubbing at the underside of his thigh. “The hell did you do?”

“Gave you the best fuck of your life?” Shoyo answered sweetly, until his eyes looked at where Kageyama was rubbing. “...Oh, fuck.”

“What? What’d you do?”

“Um…” There were deep red marks right where Shoyo could remember his hips driving in. He knew he fucked Kageyama hard, but he didn’t mean to bruise him. “You…might have more marks tomorrow.”

“How?” Kageyama snapped, looking much more alert from his post-orgasm daze.

“What do you mean, how?” Shoyo snapped back. “I fucked you! It’s not my fault you bruise like a peach!”

“It’s not my fault you have such bony hips!”

“Yeah right, like you weren’t groping all over them last night!”

“God, shut up,” Kageyama growled, grabbing Shoyo around the back of his neck and pulling him into a hungry, angry kiss. Shoyo went easily, more than happy to let Kageyama flip him over and part his legs.

It looked like he was going to get that punishment after all.

***

Shoyo loved playing volleyball. He loved playing it indoors and on the beach, in Japan and in Brazil, in casual games and in international championships.

But nothing, nothing, could measure up to standing on the court with Kageyama. It didn’t matter if they were on the same team or staring at each other through the net—Shoyo felt alive playing with Kageyama in a way no other team or player had ever made him feel.

Yes, he loved playing against Kageyama as much as on the same team, but the perk of being on the National Team together was training in the same city, in the same gym. When the best of Japan’s volleyball players were gathered in Tokyo, barely a night passed where Shoyo wasn’t with Kageyama.

The only problem was, the rest of the team didn’t know they were dating. Never mind that they were as good as engaged, only missing a ring. With how public everything else about their lives was, it was almost a relief to have something so intimate, so sweet, so comfortable be kept private, just for the two of them and their closest loved ones.

So, they had a system: Shoyo rented an apartment in the same building as Kageyama’s, so that it wouldn’t seem suspicious for them to be leaving together in the morning. They staggered their returns home, and Shoyo made sure to have his hair hidden under a cap when he stayed over at Kageyama’s place. They kept up their usual bickering, teasing, comfortable rapport at practice and during games, but anything more than brushed hands or “sportly” hugs were saved until they were behind closed doors.

But they weren’t perfect. They had their close calls, their stolen kisses in deserted halls and their ill-placed marks. Shoyo especially liked to live on the edge with the marks and hickeys he left on Kageyama. Yeah, he was much more disciplined now than he had been in high school, and that included thinking through his choices more.

Man, did he like to tease the limits when it came to Kageyama. Not too much, of course. They’d managed to avoid scrutiny for the most part. The instance with Atsumu was an isolated incident, nothing more. When Shoyo woke up the next morning to find scratches down his back, hickeys along his collarbones and the hollow of his throat, and bruises pressed into his thighs and hips, he wasn’t that alarmed. Sure, some would be trickier to properly hide, but even if some showed, it’d be fine. It wasn’t like any of them would be photographed or otherwise immortalized.

Then they walked into the gym, and were faced by their coach and two photographers lingering at his elbow. “Ah, Hinata, Kageyama, welcome!” their coach greeted them.

“Hey, Coach.” Shoyo answered for himself and Kageyama. “Who’re, um…”

“Ah, them?” Their coach threw a careless glance over his shoulder. “I’ll go into more detail when the rest of the team gets here, but basically: the Olympics committee wanted to build up some hype for the upcoming games, so they’re sending photographers to get shots of all of Japan’s national teams in action.”

Shoyo’s stomach dropped. “...Photos?”

“Yeah?” Shoyo squirmed under their coach’s raised brow. “Is there a problem?”

“N-no! Not at all, just…” Shoyo slapped on an attempt at his usual charismatic smile. “I forgot to double-check my good side, Coach!”

“Oh, ha ha. Go change and warm up.”

Kageyama had stayed silent through the exchange, and managed to hold himself together until they were alone in the locker room. “What the fuck?!” he hissed.

“What?!”

“What do you mean, what? We’re getting photographed, dumbass! For the whole country to see! Shit, maybe the whole world, oh, fuck me—”

“Already did,” Shoyo joked automatically, only for his words to crack into a yelp when Kageyama sank his fingers into his hair.

“Shut up! Look what you did!” With his free hand, Kageyama jerked aside his collar, and Shoyo winced at what was revealed: clusters of now-purpling bruises lined his collarbones and reached the precise line where the collar of his shirt landed. “The second I raise my arms to set and lower them again, everyone will see these! Including the photographers.”

Shoyo winced, not even bothering to squirm when Kageyama yanked his collar aside to look at the damage he’d created. He watched that handsome face go pale, and felt his stomach grow leaden with dread. “What…what do we do?”

“What can we do?” Kageyama grumbled. “We’ll just have to hope we play well enough to distract people from…anything else.”

He began pulling away, but Shoyo caught his hand and, after making sure they were alone in the locker room, chanced a brush to his palm. “I’m sorry, Tobi. I didn’t know—”

“Dumbass, don’t apologize. I went overboard, too.” Kageyama brushed his thumb across the back of Shoyo’s hand before finally pulling away. “Come on. We gotta warm up.”

Predictably, but thankfully, practice ended up being exactly what they needed to distract themselves. Even if it was less of a proper practice and more of an impromptu publicity photoshoot. Shoyo didn’t mind, not when the very photographers they’d feared ended up directing him and Kageyama to carry out both freak and regular quick attacks. Yes, there was a special thrill that came from landing the freak quick during an actual match. But when Shoyo whirled towards Kageyama for a celebratory high five, and his smile was met by a grin of pride and quiet adoration, the rush of love he felt still filled him with warmth and happiness separate from the court.

“Wow, Kageyama, how come we never see that smile in your ads?” Hoshiumi chuckled from the sidelines after the fifth quick for the cameras.

Kageyama’s cheeks flushed a pretty pink that was different from the usual ruddiness of exercise. “It’s…it’s because I’m never playing in those ads.”

“You play in the Power Curry ads,” Ushijima remarked, not to tease, just to state a fact. “But you never smile in those.”

“Because I’m focusing.”

“So you’re not focused when you toss to me?” Shoyo gasped, eager to join the group teasing. “Are you distracted with your precious freak attack partner, Yama-kun?”

“My what?” Any and all signs of embarrassment were sapped by annoyance as Kageyama shot a hand towards Shoyo’s head. He missed, as usual, because Shoyo expected it, as usual. “I’m not distracted, dumbass, just…” The truth was clear in his eyes, but stalled on his tongue, leaving him stumped and not a little panicked.

“You’re happy playing with Hinata-kun!” Bokuto oh-so-helpfully piped with a bright smile. “I get it, man, I felt the same way playing with Keiji! His tosses were always the best!”

“Bokkun, ya wound me so.”

“Aw, that’s not what I meant—”

Bokuto’s interruption was both the best and worst thing that could’ve happened. Kageyama looked like he might pass out from their partnership being loudly compared to what Bokuto had with his husband, and Shoyo, for his part, felt like he would get whiplash from how quickly he looked at the photographers to see if they’d connected any dreaded dots.

To his relief, they looked too busy snapping photos of the entire interaction, with the team lead looking delighted by all the shots of the team’s natural rapport. “I’ve photographed a lot of teams over the past few weeks,” he laughed to their coach, “and these guys are definitely the most close-knit bunch we’ve seen. What’s your secret, Coach?”

“No secret here. Just the team’s history with each other. It’s not often you have an Olympic team that played with and against each other in high school.”

“It definitely makes a difference.”

The photography team lead didn’t make any other comments after that, but for the rest of the practice, Shoyo couldn’t shake the distinct feeling that he was being watched.

***

Shoyo loved the National Team. He really did. If he could tell his high school self that he’d be playing on a team with Ushijima, Bokuto, Hoshiumi, Ojiro, and Atsumu, on top of all the other great players he’d admired, he was sure he would’ve seen his 16-year-old brain implode.

Yes, he loved this team. But sometimes…sometimes they got the worst ideas, and decided to make it the rest of the team’s problem.

Exhibit A: they had just finished their final practice before the few days they got to have as a break before they moved into the Olympic Village and began preparations for the opening ceremony. Instead of going home and getting a good night’s rest to let their bodies recover from practice, they were now sitting in an izakaya sharing enough beers and snacks to send the workers into a bit of a panic.

All thanks to Atsumu and Hoshiumi.

Shoyo wouldn’t have minded—he’d managed to build up a bit more of a tolerance in Rio, though he usually didn’t have more than a beer at a time once he’d joined the V.League. Kageyama, on the other hand…

“Yama, sit up,” Shoyo hissed, trying to fit his hands under Kageyama’s ribs to push him away. It didn’t work: Kageyama lifted an inch or two from Shoyo’s push…and fell right back over his shoulders. It was all Shoyo could do to not tip over from the extra weight.

“Alright there, Hinata?”

Shoyo looked up to see Ojiro watching him from across the table, brows raised over curious gray eyes. “Ah, yeah! I just…always forget what a lightweight Yama is.”

He punctuated his words with a poke at Kageyama’s side. Somehow, that worked to get him to sit up better than his shove. Annoyance pricked at him, but was quickly swept away by fond exasperation when Kageyama jerked upright, frowned into his almost-empty beer mug, and dully mumbled, “...Ow.”

“Hey, man,” Ojiro started, sounding like he was making a valiant attempt to hold back his laughter, “how much have you had to drink?”

Kageyama blinked slowly at Ojiro, visibly processing the question before silently raising three fingers. “M’not drunk,” he managed to mumble, “just…tipsy.”

“Alright, if you’re sure. How much more are you going to drink?”

Kageyama shrugged.

“You get one more beer,” Shoyo answered instead, raising a single, stubborn finger up to Kageyama’s face and grinning when his boyfriend nearly went cross-eyed trying to look at it. “One more! And that’s it!”

“Dumbass, you’re not my mom,” Kageyama grumbled, pushing away his finger with a frown that Shoyo easily recognized as his embarrassed grimace.

Shoyo, for his part, allowed himself to add one more shot to his tally of one beer and two shots. He was good about slowly nursing his beer, but he could never put up a good fight when Bokuto and Atsumu offered him shots of shochu. By the time the team finally cleared out of the izakaya, a flush was warming his face and he was laughing a little louder than usual. Kageyama, on the other hand, had gone basically silent, and was swaying like a tree in a non-existent breeze.

Loud laughter echoed in the night air when Atsumu pulled Shoyo into a hug, covering his quiet, “Sure you’ll be okay getting him back?”

“Yes, Tsumu-san,” Shoyo laughed with a reassuring pat on his back. “This isn’t my first time dealing with him drunk.”

“You’ll have to tell me that story later,” Atsumu chuckled before pulling away. “Be careful, Tobio-kun!” he said, whacking Kageyama on the shoulder and grinning when his fellow setter stumbled from the force. “I’ll never forgive ya if you squish my favorite spiker!”

Kageyama finally looked halfway alert when he frowned at Atsumu and grumbled, “He’s my spiker.” The quiet words were quickly overwhelmed by Bokuto and Hoshiumi’s affronted gasps at Atsumu’s declaration, but Shoyo heard him loud and clear, grinning wide as Kageyama dodged his gaze with scarlet ears.

He waited for the rest of the team to disperse before whispering, “Can you walk?”

“Yeah!” Kageyama answered a little too loudly. “Of course I can!”

They made it all of four blocks before Shoyo threw up his hands. “Alright, that’s it!” He crouched in front of Kageyama. “Climb on.”

He didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know his boyfriend was blinking down at him with a confused frown. “...What?”

“Climb on! I’ll piggyback you home.”

“Dumbass, you can’t carry me!”

“Yes, I can! Come on!”

“I’m gonna squish you!”

“Then squish me! At least we can get home faster!”

“M’not that slow.”

Shoyo scowled at the sidewalk when his back remained weight-free. “What’s wrong, Yama?” he suddenly cooed, inspiration striking just in time. “Scared I’ll carry you further than you can carry me?”

“M’not scared!”

“Then prove it!”

For a moment, all he heard was inscrutable mumbling. Then, all at once, the weight of a soon-to-be two-time Olympic athlete fell onto his back. Compared to his slouchy weight in the izakaya, Kageyama now felt like the weight of the world falling onto Atlas’s shoulders. Or, well, Shoyo’s.

“Woah, Tobi, the hell!”

“What?! You said get on!”

“Yeah, like a human, not like a sack of rice! Nearly broke my knees.”

“Whiny dumbass.” The mutter accompanied a shifting of Kageyama’s weight on his back, and Shoyo quickly tightened his hold around his thighs before he could try to stand back up. “Lemme go.”

“Nope!” With that, Shoyo began the slow, painstaking process of getting to his feet under more than twice his usual weight. “Why’re you so heavy?!”

“Lemme go or quit whining.”

“I can carry you and whine at the same time, Drunk-yama,” Shoyo snorted. Naturally, out of everything that night, bickering was when Kageyama sounded more sober than he had all evening. “Just don’t puke on me.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Tobio!”

Unflattering snorts practically echoed in Shoyo’s left ear as a chin hooked over his shoulder. He didn’t flinch, not wanting to make Kageyama straighten up. Despite his aching body, he couldn’t help smiling at the brush of Kageyama’s nose at his cheek and his breaths ruffling his hair.

Somehow, through a sheer stubborn need to prove himself and the soft love spreading through him at Kageyama’s sleepy, drunken, snuffling breaths, Shoyo managed to reach the front stairs to their apartment building. He stared at the four measly steps up, felt the burning shake of his legs, and grunted, “Yama, get down.”

Nothing.

“Tobio!” Shoyo gathered every last bit of his strength to bounce the setter. “On your feet, c’mon!”

He heard a snort, a confused grumble, then, blessedly, all that Olympic weight slid off his back. His legs shuddered beneath him, longing to give out and let him crumple to the ground, but first: “Alright, let’s go inside.”

“No.”

Shoyo’s step forward was cut short by Kageyama tugging back on his hand. “What do you mean, no?”

“Kiss me first.”

Shoyo turned and gaped at his boyfriend, who frowned at him with a furrow to his brow that would have been frightening to anyone else, but that Shoyo recognized as being the equivalent to a childish pout. “Why?! We’re still outside!”

“Don’t care.” Kageyama took one unsteady step forward and rested his forehead on Shoyo’s. “R’you…mad at me? F’r getting drunk?”

“What? No! When have I gotten mad at you for something like that?”

“Then kiss me.”

“Tobiiiiii. What if someone sees us?”

“Say it’s my fault. M’drunk.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

Kageyama just grunted and nudged his nose against Shoyo’s. The pressure was just ticklish enough to make Shoyo break into a soft giggle. “If I kiss you, will you go inside?”

“Mm.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine. Kiss me.”

There was a beat, then Kageyama pulled away to pin Shoyo under a confused pout. “Wha?”

“I already hauled your drunk ass home! You gotta at least work for the kiss!”

Those sweet pink lips twisted, but Kageyama couldn’t argue. So he cupped Shoyo’s face in big, clumsy hands, and haphazardly teetered forward until their lips bumped each other. It reminded Shoyo of their first awkward, mismatched kiss, and when he helped fit their lips together, his were stretched into a grin.

“Quit smiling,” Kageyama mumbled into the kiss.

“I can’t! You’re too cute!”

Kageyama grumbled, but he didn’t nip at Shoyo’s lips nor try to kiss him again. He just let his head fall forward onto Shoyo’s shoulder. “Dumbass.”

“Uh-huh. Dumbass that got you home! C’mon.” Shoyo manhandled Kageyama’s arm around his shoulders and began leading him inside.

“Sho.”

“What?” Shoyo didn’t bother holding back his laughter. It wasn’t like Kageyama would remember it enough to be upset by it.

“Shtop…stop laughiiiiing.” Kageyama somehow slumped even more onto Shoyo’s shoulders. Shoyo was strong, of course he was, he couldn’t be a professional athlete if he wasn’t. But even he had his limits, and walking while carrying most of the weight of his co-athlete, very drunk, very off-balance boyfriend was threatening to step over that line.

“God, I love you so much, you lightweight idiot,” Shoyo sighed. “Are you sure you only had beer? Did Atsumu-san sneak you a shot?”

“No! No liquor! Only beer!”

“You’re like this after four beers? How did you survive Italy?!”

“They’re not…alcolics…like”—he stumbled over the edge of the elevator, and Shoyo barely managed to keep him on his feet—“like bajilics.”

“Like what?”

“Bajilics,” Kageyama repeated, sounding more certain and like he thought Shoyo was an idiot for not understanding.

“...Oh my god, do you mean Brazilians?”

“S’what I said.”

“Of course, so sorry.”

Kageyama grunted, lapsing into silence as he squished his cheek against Shoyo’s hair. “...Sho.”

This time Shoyo took care to choke back his laugh. Somehow, in the space between the izakaya and their building, the last bit of alcohol had been soaked up by Kageyama’s body and made him cross the line between sleepy silence and drunken chatter. He was only ever like this when drunk and alone with Shoyo, which wasn’t often. Truthfully, Shoyo still wasn’t used to it. “Yes, Yama?”

“I think…I drank too much.”

“Really?” Shoyo gasped. “Where’d you get an idea like that?”

He swore he could feel Kageyama’s frown pressed to his hair. “Shut up.” There was a deep sigh, a beat of silence, and then a mumbled, “Smell good.”

“What does?”

“You, dumbass.”

His cheeks grew warm. “Trying to seduce me, Tobi?”

“No,” Kageyama snorted. “If I wanted to seduce you, I’d just suck your—”

Ding!

The elevator chimed just as Shoyo slapped a hand over Kageyama’s mouth. “God, Yama, public!!”

He could feel Kageyama smile against his palm. It was the only warning he got before he was jerking his hand back from a wide lick. “Gross!”

“Gotcha,” Kageyama mumbled, immediately falling back over Shoyo’s shoulders. “M’tired.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you home.”

In hindsight, Shoyo wasn’t sure how he did it. He got Kageyama home, managed to get him to wash up as well as he could and have a bite to eat with a glass of water, then got him tucked into bed. It was hard, and annoying, and more than once Shoyo wanted to squish his cheeks until some sense was forced back into his head.

But then he looked down at Kageyama, at his sleepy blue eyes peering over his covers, and he thought his heart might burst from all the love pressing at its walls. “Good night, Tobio,” he murmured, dipping down to press a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll check on you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

He straightened up, ready to leave for his own apartment…only to be brought up short by strong fingers in his sleeve. “Stay.” The word was muffled, filtering through the thick covers obscuring Kageyama’s face.

“Tobio?”

“Stay with me. Then you…c’n check easier.”

Yeah, Shoyo’s heart was definitely going to burst by morning. “Uwah,” he gushed, letting a smitten smile pull at his lips. “You get really smart when you’re drunk!”

The fingers in his hoodie slipped away to the sound of a halfhearted growl. “Never mind. Go away.”

“Nope!”

Shoyo washed up and crawled into bed in record time, but he still couldn’t make it before Kageyama had dozed off. “You okay, Tobi?” he whispered, just in case.

“Mm.” Kageyama turned towards him and burrowed into his chest, silky black strands tickling at his chin. Strong arms wrapped tight around him, essentially locking Shoyo into bed.

“Good night,” he murmured again, laughter coloring his words.

“Mmf.”

“Love you, Tobi.”

He didn’t get an answer. But he did hear a content sigh, then the softest, snuffling little snores he ever did hear. When he fell asleep, it was with his nose buried into Kageyama’s hair and his arms holding him close like a teddy bear, the warmest, strongest, snuggliest teddy bear in the world.

And all his. Just his.

***

Shoyo was already used to being the first one up when they were both sober, so he wasn’t surprised to wake up and find Kageyama still asleep with a furrow in his brow the next morning. He was surprised to still be wrapped so tightly in his arms—usually they drifted apart at some point in the night, keeping at least a hand or arm on top of each other like an anchor. He wasn’t sure how to untangle himself without waking Kageyama up.

So, he didn’t.

“Yama,” he whispered.

“Mm.”

“Tobioooooo.”

“Mmfwhat?”

“Wake up.”

To his surprise, Kageyama actually obeyed, extracting his face from Shoyo’s chest and slowly blinking his eyes open…and immediately burrowing back in with a groan. “Too bright.”

“It’s not too bright,” Shoyo laughed. “You’re just hungover.”

“‘N you’re too loud.”

“Sorryyyy.” Shoyo lowered his voice to an exaggerated whisper. “Is this better?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Am I?”

Kageyama pulled away again, this time to narrow his eyes at Shoyo. “...Dumbass.”

“Be nice to me, or I won’t make breakfast.”

Kageyama groaned and rolled away, stuffing his face into his pillow. “Don’t wanna eat. What if I throw it up?”

“I’ll bring you some water, Your Highness, then you should be okay to eat,” Shoyo snorted as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

A foot suddenly planted itself in the small of his back and pushed him off the bed with a firm shove, forcing him to stumble to his feet. “Hey!”

“Go make breakfast.”

“Jerk,” Shoyo muttered under his breath. He pulled his phone from its charger and shuffled to the kitchen, putting the kettle on to boil while he checked his notifications.

That’s when he saw it.

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 hey man, bokkun and i kinda…followed u n tobio last night just to make sure u were actually okay to carry him! and…we saw this [photo attached]

Shoyo’s stomach dropped to his feet when he opened the image and squinted at it. It was blurry and taken from a distance with terrible zoom, but there was no mistaking his orange hair, and that was their apartment building, and he was definitely kissing a tall figure with dark hair and a black Olympics hoodie. “...Shit.”

They knew. Atsumu and Bokuto knew. They followed them last night and watched Shoyo kiss Kageyama to coax him over the threshold. The one time, the one time he indulged the chance to kiss in public, and this happened.

His fingers tightened around his phone. He nursed the irrational desire to squeeze it until it broke, but he didn’t have the money for a new phone. Besides, there were more texts from Atsumu to read.

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 we’re not gonna tell any1 ofc and i deleted the photo after sending it to u just wanted to let u what we saw since u 2 probs wanted to keep ur rs a secret idk y tho the team would understand bokkun already cant shut up bout akaashi-san

Shoyo’s stomach slowly rose back to its rightful place, only to curdle with guilt. The messages had Atsumu’s patent sense of showy apathy, but Shoyo knew him too well. He could read the hurt he felt over not being trusted.

Because he was right, at least a little. The team would understand. Never mind Bokuto and Akaashi’s marriage. Most of the team had known each other for years, down to each other’s sexualities and dating histories. They already knew Shoyo was bi and Kageyama was gay. Their relationship would barely clock as a surprise to any of them.

But telling a whole team, even a team they knew so well, felt so…public. So real. So close to being revealed to the whole world, especially considering they were an Olympic team. Keeping their relationship under wraps from the team had just been a habit to Shoyo and Kageyama. They had kept this secret for long enough that being up front about it never even occurred to either of them.

Now the consequences of that unspoken decision was glaring up at Shoyo from his phone.

What should he say? What could he say? Any apologies felt hollow, and as guilty as Shoyo felt for making Atsumu feel untrusted, he didn’t think of the reason as a mistake that needed complete rectification.

He stared at the messages and the photo for another few breaths before finally bringing his fingers to the screen.

From: me morning Atsumu-san! ah…I didn’t realize anyone was following us 😅 thanks for letting me know and for not sharing the photo with the rest of the team I promise keeping our relationship a secret from the team wasn’t anything personal! just...force of habit really I’m okay with you and Bokuto-san knowing and I’ll let Tobio know what happened but could you guys not tell anyone else? at least not yet?

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 hey dude, no worries, i get it but uh about not telling the rest of the team have u opened twitter today?

From: me ? no why?

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 remember those publicity photos from practice a few weeks back? they got published today and the photos of u and tobio r REAL popular rn

At any other time, that would have been good news, if only because Shoyo could enjoy Kageyama’s pleased embarrassment over so many people seeing his photos. But just then, in the context of the already-scary conversation he was having with Atsumu, Shoyo could only feel a heavy dread settle on his shoulders.

He closed out of his messages and opened Twitter. He didn’t even need to scroll. There, at the top of his timeline, was a tweet with photos of the volleyball team from the Olympic account, as well as a thread of individual photos from the JVA account. The photos of the full team made a tiny smile rise to Shoyo’s lips despite everything: out of the four in the post, two were of the team in action, and two featured them bantering during a break. Shoyo’s favorite showed him and Kageyama standing next to the bench, fresh off the court and chatting with Hoshiumi, Ushijima, and Bokuto, all of whom were seated and relaxed. Even Ushijima had a slight curve to his lips and a glint in his olive eyes.

Shoyo couldn’t linger too long on the Olympic tweet. Whatever Atsumu was referring to must have been in the individual shots from the JVA. So Shoyo scrolled through the thread, occasionally pausing to appreciate a good action shot, before he finally reached the tweet with Kageyama’s solo photos.

They weren’t all solo photos. In fact, two of them also featured Shoyo, which should have been the first sign of danger. In one of the actual solo photos, Kageyama was pulling his collar to his chin, revealing a hint of his chiseled, sweaty abs, and in the other, he was throwing the ball up to serve.

Then Shoyo swiped to the third photo. In it, he was soaring through the air, and Kageyama was floating next to him, tossing the ball into a perfect arc, right to Shoyo’s hand. He could practically feel the ghost of the ball hitting his palm to slam into the court. The fourth photo showed him jumping again, this time to slap a high five to Kageyama’s offered hands.

The tweet with his own individual photos were fairly similar: a resting shot, a solo action shot, an action shot with Kageyama, and a resting shot with Kageyama.

Sure, it might have been strange for them to be the only ones to share photos in the thread, but the world already knew them as the “freak duo.” It shouldn’t be surprising to see them featured together.

From: me idgi what’s wrong w the photos?

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 zoom in on them

Frowning, Shoyo obeyed, first zooming in on Kageyama’s solo shots. For a moment, he was distracted by the detailed close-up of his boyfriend’s perfect physique, as though he didn’t already get to enjoy it up close and personal every night.

Then he saw them.

There, just above Kageyama’s waistband, were two, barely-there bruises. Bruises that Shoyo knew were his fault.

Once he saw the first ones, he saw them everywhere. Kageyama sported bruises on above his waistband, along his collarbones, over his pulse point, and, most incriminating of all, between his thighs, right where Shoyo’s hips hit when he fucked Kageyama hard and ruthless.

Shit.

Bruises were common in volleyball. Hell, they were common in any sport, but especially in volleyball, where collisions with fast-moving balls and hard gym floors were the name of the game. But those bruises were on knees and elbows, maybe the insides of forearms or outsides of thighs. They weren’t in the most intimate places on a person, places where the only marks that could be found there were almost always made on purpose.

The bruises on Kageyama could not have been more clearly from sex. No wonder people were talking about his photos—who wouldn’t be tantalized by a glimpse at a sexy setter’s intimate life?

The bruises were a little risque, sure, but no cause for scandal. No, the problems came with the photos of Shoyo, and his bruises. Because he had them. A lot of them. They marred his arms, his throat, his thighs, and if he really squinted, he could just the slightest glimpse of the red scratches Kageyama had left on his back peeking above the collar of his jersey.

From: me oh shoot do u really think ppl will think we gave those to each other? we’re all adults! we do adult things!!

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 sho-kun buddy do u think tobio of all ppl usually gets marks like that?

From: me he better not!! >:(

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 …wrong q thats on me look tobio and i were on the vleague a few years longer than u ive had my fair share of scandals bc of marks being visible hickeys n stuff we all do even bokkun from akaashi-san but still but tobio didnt he never had a single scandal for dating or sex or anything then u joined the vleague and whaddaya know ushiwaka-kun texted omi bc he was worried about tobio being more bruised up than usual

From: me oh my god I'm so sorry!!

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 dont apologize i thought it was hilarious thats not the point the point is that you also had marks but somehow none of us really connected the dots until jnt practices started and wouldja look at that you *both* were looking like old apples w all them bruises tbh i suspected something a while ago but i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable then last night happened and…yeah

From: me …yeah shit Atsumu-san what do we do??

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 well 1st dont panic besides the team i dont think any1 noticed anything yeah the fans are losing their minds but thats just them being horny i dont think any1 will suspect u gave those 2 each other at least not 4 a while but i think coach will want u guys to figure out what 2 do if or when ppl get suspicious so just…brace urself ig we’re on ur side either way! 😤

From: me ok ok thanks Atsumu-san srsly this means a lot

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 ofc man lemme know if i can do anything else k?

From: me I will thank you! I’m gonna wake up Tobi and let him know what happened we’ll see you at practice!

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 tobi? tobi??

From: me …um don’t tell him I told you that

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 nope too late u owe me this see u l8r

Despite the panic swirling through him, Shoyo couldn’t help scoffing a little at Atsumu’s messages. Sometimes, the setter still texted like he was using a number pad and not a proper keyboard. Dork.

His smile slid off his face when he opened the pictures once again. The photos that had been a sweet tribute to his partnership on the court with Kageyama now looked like terrible evidence, a perfect chance to compare their bruises and see where they could potentially fit together like puzzle pieces.

Shoyo wasn’t ashamed of his relationship with Kageyama. Quite the opposite, really: he wanted to shout and brag about their love from every rooftop of every building in Tokyo. But it was because they loved each other so much that they kept a tight lid on things. What they had was too precious, too hard-earned, to let others cast judgment on it. They already had enough of that from every other aspect of their careers and public lives.

Now, though…if they didn’t have a choice…then Shoyo would much rather reveal everything on their own terms. But that wasn’t a choice he could make on his own.

The kettle suddenly began whistling, jolting Shoyo out of his thoughts and forcing him to hurry and remove it from the stove. The damage was done—his ears were ringing from the noise, which meant he’d be getting a very grumpy companion, any moment now.

“Sho, what the hell?”

He flinched and turned to offer a grimace to Kageyama, who stood shirtless, rumpled, and adorably bleary-eyed at the entrance to the kitchen. “Sorry, I just…was distracted.”

“By what?” Kageyama was still grumpy, but when Shoyo turned towards the counter to begin making some tea, he was immediately surrounded by warm arms, with a sharp chin nestling into his shoulder.

“Um…” To his horror, Shoyo’s voice caught in his throat and his eyes burned with tears. Having Kageyama with him, a tangible reminder of what was at stake, made the threat of…of everything finally sink in.

“Sho?”

“I’m okay, just…” With their tea ready to steep, he turned in Kageyama’s arms and held him around the waist, burrowing his face into his chest. “We…we need to talk.”

“About what?”

Shoyo’s throat ached more from the wary tone of Kageyama’s words. “Something…something happened.”

***

They arrived at practice early, and their coach took all of one look at them before sighing with a small, sad, understanding smile. “So…you guys know.”

“Yeah,” Shoyo murmured, squeezing at Kageyama’s trembling fingers. “We know.”

“Well, then…you two aren’t opposed to staying after practice to meet with the PR manager, are you?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Then go ahead and warm up.”

Practice was awkward. Not because of their playing—they were both determined to not let this mess affect anything on the court—but because of the worry emanating from all of their teammates, even Ushijima. Every time Shoyo was off of the court, whoever was with him murmured a check in of some sort.

“Are you guys okay?”

“What’s going on?”

“We’re here for you, man.”

It was sweet. A relief, really.

It also made Shoyo want to crawl out of his skin.

For the first time in his life, he was relieved when practice ended, because it meant that he could escape the stifling concern of the team and finally do something. Kageyama, on the other hand…

“Hey.” Shoyo grabbed his hand, a small part of him thrilled at being able to do so without looking around. “Breathe.”

Kageyama obeyed, and thankfully looked a little less green. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, stupid,” Shoyo laughed softly. “I’m scared, too.”

“Yeah, but…you’re supposed to be the anxious one.”

“Hey!” A small smile nudged at Kageyama’s lips and made some relief wash over Shoyo, even as he frowned up at him. “Doesn’t feel so nice, does it?”

“I’ve literally never said it does, the hell?”

“Yeah, but you used to get all annoyed about it!”

“In first year! That was almost ten years ago, are you kidding me?”

Shoyo stuck his tongue out, only to squawk when Kageyama pinched his nose. “Ow, Yama!”

“That’s what you get, dumb—”

“Um.” They froze mid-scuffle, and looked towards the locker room entrance to see their coach staring at them with a bemused grin. “Sorry to interrupt, but…shall we get this meeting started?”

Their hands fell away from each other as they both offered sheepish bows. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

The crux of the issue, they were told, was the opening ceremonies looming in the very near future. It would be one thing if the threat of their relationship being revealed could be mostly contained within Japan. But with the Olympics happening in a matter of days, any big news about any member of any Olympic team would inevitably be reported on an international level.

“I don’t tell you this to try to encourage you one way or another in how you want to deal with this,” the team’s PR manager assured them. “But it is something important to keep in mind. Do you understand?”

Both men nodded.

“Good. Well then…now that you have some options…how would you like to move forward with this?”

Shoyo chewed at his lips, eyes flickering from the PR manager, to their coach, to Kageyama at his side. Their gazes met, and Kageyama silently reached towards Shoyo’s lap and took one of his hands with a squeeze. That decided it.

“Don’t…confirm or deny anything. Not yet. We…we have an idea.”

“An idea?” Eyebrows raised. “Can we…know this idea?”

They could. So the couple told them.

Their coach let out a low whistle. “That…is a hell of a risk.”

“Yes,” Kageyama answered simply. “We know, sir.”

“You two are certain about this?”

“We’re certain about each other.” Kageyama’s fingers tightened around Shoyo’s. “So yes. We’re certain about this.”

Shoyo still couldn’t believe how much love could fit in his heart for the man at his side. He dragged his eyes away from him to look at their coach, whose brows were creased in fond exasperation, and the team PR manager, who looked five seconds away from happy tears.

“Alright,” their PR manager sighed. “Well…I guess I’ll see you all at the Olympics, then.”

“Enjoy these last few days of peace, you two,” their coach said with a soft chuckle. “I get the feeling you won’t be having any peace for a while after the games.”

Uneasiness churned in Shoyo’s stomach. “Thank you, sir…you, too.”

“Oh, one last thing.” The couple paused in getting to their feet. “Tell the rest of the team before you see this plan through, alright? This won’t just be affecting you two.”

It was obvious, even something that they had discussed before. But hearing it from an outside party made the reality of it crash into Shoyo, and his quickening breaths reduced him to silence as he stared at their coach and PR manager.

“Yes, sir,” he distantly heard Kageyama answer. “We’ve already started. Have a good weekend.”

Shoyo let himself be tugged out of the gym and onto the sidewalk, where Kageyama grabbed his shoulders to spin him towards him. “Hey. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Shoyo tried to say, wincing when his words came out breathlessly. “I just…it’s a big change. And…the others…we…”

Complete sentences were beyond him, but the solemnity of Kageyama's handsome features told him he understood. “We don’t have to do this,” he murmured, sliding his hands down from Shoyo’s shoulders to squeeze his arms. “We can…we can deny everything, say something about how our competition just…riles us up, and that’s why we have more hookups after our games together. They’ve been reporting on our competitiveness with each other for years, it wouldn’t be that unbelievable.”

He was right. Shoyo knew he was right. But hiding their relationship was one thing. The thought of actively denying it made bile rise in his throat. He couldn’t do that, wouldn’t do that, and the tension around Kageyama’s eyes told him that his partner also hated the idea. “No,” he said firmly. “It’s like you said: we’re certain about each other. The attention will suck for a little bit, but you’re worth it, Tobi. I’m not going to lie about how much I love you.”

From his first “no,” the tension around Kageyama’s eyes melted into a bittersweet mix of nerves, relief, and certainty. “I’m going to kiss the hell out of you when we get home.”

“Just kiss?”

Shoyo’s sweet smile broke into a surprised yelp when Kageyama pinched his nose. “Don’t be greedy. C’mon, let’s go home.”

***

The Olympics Opening Ceremony and the days leading up to it were everything Shoyo could have dreamed and more. They were a whirlwind of settling into their dorms in the Olympic village, some practices on the Olympic courts, milling around and meeting fellow Olympians from around the world and every sport, all culminating in the Parade of Nations.

“Tobio,” he whispered when Japan wrapped up the parade and took their places on the stadium floor.

“Yeah?”

“We did it. We’re on the world stage.” He looked up at his partner in volleyball, in love, in life, and smiled through his tears. It didn’t matter that Kageyama had already done this once before—this was the first time they were here together, and Shoyo felt like he could float away on the bubble of sheer joy at finally fulfilling the vow he’d made as a small, scrappy, stubborn 16-year-old.

He could see the same realization and joy in Kageyama’s shining eyes, before he was being pulled into a tight embrace. It was safe, something that could look like a happy, platonic hug between teammates, but Shoyo knew better. He shuddered when he felt lips brush his ear and whisper, “I’m so fucking proud of you. You have no idea how much better this feels with you here.”

“Show-off,” Shoyo laughed, burying his face into Kageyama’s shoulder. “...Me, too. I’m proud of us.”

Everything in him screamed to forget the plan and kiss Kageyama right there. It was a miracle that he managed to contain himself until the door to their shared dorm room closed behind them, mere seconds before he pressed Kageyama to it and finally, finally pressed their lips together. “Hey, Yama,” he whispered between smacking kisses.

“Don’t. I already know what you’re going to say.”

“Wanna see if these beds are really sex-proof?”

“What did I just say?” Kageyama pushed him away, letting Shoyo get a good look at his exasperated frown and soft eyes. “Our first match is tomorrow, we can’t be sore from fucking.”

“Geez, I thought we could be more romantic,” Shoyo sniffed. “You won’t be sore from love-making.”

“Who said I’ll be the sore one?”

Anticipation zipped up Shoyo’s spine and had him hastily dropping his clothes to the floor as though they weren’t a once-in-a-lifetime Olympics blazer and pants. “Hurry up, then! We gotta get a good night’s sleep!”

“Don’t pretend to be responsible now.” The nag was the last thing Kageyama said before he pushed Shoyo to one of the cardboard beds and crawled between his legs.

Neither of them said much more after that. They were too busy unraveling each other to gasps and moans muffled against sweaty skin.

(Later, when Kageyama’s softening cock slipped out of Shoyo and freed him to slide off of the setter’s hips, the small bedspace still kept him half on top of him, one leg hooked across his cum-splattered abs.

“So? Are you sore?”

“Nope! Wanna change that?”

“Quit fucking around or I won’t toss to you tomorrow.”

“Yama! What kind of partner are you?!”

“A responsible one. Get off me, we need to clean up.”)

***

They lost to Argentina in their first game, a blow that stung less only when Shoyo stumbled across Oikawa sobbing in Iwaizumi’s arms by Team Japan’s locker rooms.

“You did it,” he could just barely hear Iwaizumi murmur.

“I did it,” Oikawa echoed with a tearful laugh. “I beat them, Iwa. I beat all of you.”

“Yeah…I’m proud of you, Shitty-kawa.”

“Oh, come on! I beat your team at the Olympics and you still can’t be nice?!”

“I said I’m proud of you. Take it or leave it.”

It would have sounded like their standard bickering if Shoyo didn’t know both of them well enough to recognize the tender adoration in their voices. When he returned to the locker room, Kageyama pinned him under a suspicious frown. “Why’re you smiling? We lost.”

“I know. So we’ll just have to beat France!”

A quiet laugh rippled through the team, chipping away at the heavy weight of disappointment hanging over them. “Sure, we’ll just go ahead and do that,” Hoshiumi snorted.

“We can!” Shoyo insisted. “Come on, guys, it’s not over yet! We’ve got more volleyball to play! As long as we don’t fall out of the running completely, we’ll keep playing! Isn’t that what matters most?”

“That’s the spirit, Hinata!” Bokuto cheered, slinging a heavy arm over Shoyo’s shoulders. “I’d expect nothing less from my greatest pupil!”

“Bokkun, it’s been almost ten years,” Atsumu groaned with a badly-hidden smirk. “Can you drop the whole ‘teacher-pupil’ thing?”

“Never! The bond between mentor and mentee is unbreakable! Right, Hinata?”

“Right, Bokuto-san!”

“Tobio-kun, are ya gonna let this stand? Bokkun’s takin’ more credit for Shoyo’s growth than you!”

Kageyama blinked, expression bland. “I’m not his teacher. I’m his partner.”

“Jesus, forget I said anythin’.”

“Already done.”

“Omi!”

Just like that, the sullen atmosphere shifted into something a little sweeter, more hopeful, and by the time their match against France rolled around, they were newly determined to settle for nothing less than a total victory. “Are you ready?” Kageyama murmured before they made their entrance to the court. The intensity in his eyes told Shoyo he wasn’t just talking about the match.

Shoyo gently rocked into his side with a smile and a chipper, “Of course! With you, I’m invincible!”

“Invincible,” Kageyama repeated with a smile so slight, Shoyo would have missed it if they didn’t know each other so completely.

***

The ball seemed to move in crystal-clear slow motion, sailing over the net to bounce off of Yaku’s arms in a perfect arc to Kageyama. Around him, Shoyo could see Bokuto, Ojiro, and Hoshiumi run for a synchronized attack, and his legs moved to let him perfectly blend in with his teammates.

He watched the ball meet Kageyama’s fingers just as he poured all the power he had left in him to jump as high as possible. There, at the peak of his jump, the ball appeared before him, and in that perfect split-second of suspension in the air, he found his target on the other side of the net.

His hand hit the ball with a delicious sting, and as he fell to the ground, the ball sped towards France’s libero, only to deflect from his arms and fly out-of-bounds. The wing spikers couldn’t move fast enough—the ball landed, with a thrilling slap against the court floors, just outside of the boundary lines.

Silence reigned over the stadium for a breath, only cracking open with two shrill whistles that sounded like the sweetest sirensong to Shoyo’s ears.

They did it. They won.

Noise exploded through the stadium. Shoyo’s ears rang from the screams and cheers of his teammates, but he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. All that mattered were the blue eyes finding his, and the breathtaking smile spreading below them.

His legs felt like they might give out from under him, but he pushed himself forward, barely aware of the tears falling to his cheeks. He was too focused on taking hold of Kageyama’s cheeks and pulling him down.

Later on, he would remember it all in parts: the sweet taste of Kageyama’s lips parting against his, the familiar comfort of his arms wrapping around his waist, the pressure of his hands pressing against Shoyo’s spine to bring him impossibly closer. Then there were the renewed screams of their teammates, this time in celebration of their announcement.

Because it was an announcement. With that single kiss on the world stage, they were finally breaking open the secrecy of their relationship and proudly baring their hearts to the entire world. Maybe it should’ve been terrifying, but in that moment, Shoyo only felt peace and love and joy, pure, unadulterated joy, overflowing in tears that flowed faster when his ears caught a soft whisper beneath the screams surrounding him.

“I love you.”

***

For the second night in a row, Shoyo and Kageyama entered their dorm room mid-makeout, only closing the door behind them so Shoyo could press Kageyama against it. “Yama,” he breathed, sucking kisses down his neck and soaking in the sounds of his shameless moans. “Tobio, what do you want? Tell me what to do for you.”

“What do you want?”

“Anything you want.”

“Dumbass, that’s not— ah, that’s not an answer— mmh!”

“I asked first.”

Before Kageyama could snap anything back, Shoyo slid his thigh between his legs, pulling the setter’s hips down until he was moaning from the pressure against the tent in his pants. “Fuck, Sho—!”

“Answer me, Tobio.”

Kageyama’s eyes fluttered open, and whatever he saw on Shoyo’s face made him bite his lip with a whimper. “Fuck me,” he gasped when Shoyo pressed his leg up.

“Yeah?” Shoyo murmured, leaning in to ghost their lips together. “Want me to fill you up? Want me to fuck you until you’re begging?”

Challenge glinted in those hazy blue eyes. “Make me,” Kageyama grunted. “Make me beg, Sho.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

With a growl, Kageyama took his lips in a hungry kiss, rutting against Shoyo’s thigh despite what he’d just asked for. Shoyo could’ve sworn he could feel the heat building between Kageyama’s legs in time with the increasing hardness trapped in his jeans. “Tobio…shit, Tobio…”

Kageyama just hummed into the kisses, whimpering when Shoyo’s hands wandered under his shirt, sliding higher and higher until he could pinch at his nipples. “Let me see,” Shoyo whispered, “c’mon, Tobi, lemme see you.”

Despite his grunt of protest, Kageyama obeyed, nearly tearing fabric in his haste to rip his shirt off and bare his beautiful chest to Shoyo. He wasted no time diving in, sucking a nipple into his mouth to the sweet tune of Kageyama’s keening whines. They had showered before the celebratory team dinner, but the summer heat made sweat sting on Shoyo’s tastebuds, sharpening the delicious taste of Kageyama, Kageyama, nothing but Kageyama.

He wanted to eat him whole, wanted to drag his lips and tongue and teeth across every lightly-tanned inch of his perfect body. But for now, he was satisfied with gripping at Kageyama’s trim waist and stopping him from curving his plush chest away from his lips. He didn’t pull away until he heard his moans pick up in pitch and eventually break into a desperate, “Sho, Sho, m’close, fuck— wait, no—”

Shoyo ignored his pleas, sliding his thigh away and pinning Kageyama’s hips to the door. “Not yet, baby,” he whispered, pressing a sweet kiss to his gasping lips. “Wait for me, hm?”

He didn’t let go of Kageyama’s hips until they stopped twitching forward in search of more friction. Only then did Kageyama wilt in his hands, letting his forehead rest against Shoyo’s as he nodded. “Okay?” Shoyo asked.

“I won’t be if you don’t hurry up.”

Shoyo snickered, unabashed under Kageyama’s pout. “That’s a yes. C’mon, get naked and show me how you want me to fuck you.”

He could feel a shudder run through Kageyama’s body before he was being pushed away. He obeyed the gentle nudge, letting his hands fall away from Kageyama and watching shamelessly as he shoved his pants and socks off and climbed onto his bed. Arousal made his breath stop when Kageyama held himself up on his hands and knees and looked over his shoulder with an impatient frown. “Why’re you still not naked?”

“God, you’re hot,” Shoyo huffed, stripping himself and grabbing a condom and some lube. “Why’re you so hot when you’re bossy?”

“I’m not bossy,” Kageyama grunted, failing to look away before Shoyo caught a glimpse of his flushed cheeks. “And I dunno why you think weird things are hot.”

“Calling yourself weird, Yama?”

“No. I’m calling you weird.”

Shoyo snickered as he joined Kageyama on the bed, letting his cock nudge against the perfect swell of his ass. “Yeah, and you’re into me,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to his spine and relishing the soft whimper he earned. “So what’s that make you?”

“An idiot. Hurry up.”

“Aw, does it hurt?” Shoyo cooed in false sympathy. He slicked up one hand, but instead of tracing circles around Kageyama’s puckered hole, he reached around and took hold of his straining cock.

“Fuck!” Kageyama cried, head lolling between his shaking arms. “Sho, please—”

“Begging already? That’s not good.”

“Shut up, I’m— hah, I’m gonna— no, come on—!”

“Not yet,” Shoyo insisted, letting go just as he felt Kageyama’s cock harden that last tell-tale bit. “Shhh, Tobi, the others will hear you whining for me.”

“Fuck you,” Kageyama bit out.

“Nah, not tonight.” Shoyo snickered as he dodged the half-hearted swat Kageyama barely managed before he had to support himself on both hands again. “Okay, okay, here.” He slid his slippery hand between Kageyama’s legs, letting his slick touch trail along the curve of his tight balls and through the hot, tight space up to his puckered rim. Kageyama tensed beneath him as soon as he began drawing cold circles over his hole, and Shoyo brushed a kiss under his ear before slowly pressing in. “Relax, Tobi,” he whispered, grinning when he felt him obey. “Good boy.”

Kageyama just whimpered wordlessly, trembling when Shoyo’s finger slid home. “Is this good?” Shoyo asked quietly.

“Mm…yeah,” Kageyama groaned, slowly rocking his hips into the slight intrusion. “Yeah,” he repeated with a pleased sigh, “yeah, gimme more.”

“Yessir.” With that purr, Shoyo carefully slid out his finger to the last digit, before sliding it back in with a second finger. He pressed kisses along Kageyama’s shoulders and the back of his neck as he carefully stretched him out, following the sound of his gasps and moans. Yes, he knew exactly how Kageyama liked to be stretched out, but that didn’t mean he stopped relishing the way his name sounded when he finally curved three fingers into his prostate. “Sho—!”

“Good?”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck, it’s good!”

“Good.” He was more urgent than usual as he worked his fingers in and out and spread them wide, his own arousal burning through him at the sight of Kageyama trying to fuck himself on his fingers. “Shit, Tobio, I thought you wanted to come on my cock, not my fingers.”

“I do, hurry up!”

“Ask me nicely,” Shoyo huffed, as though he weren’t already slipping his fingers out and sliding the condom down his aching dick.

“Fuck me, Sho, c’mon, fill me up.”

Oh…that wasn’t quite what Shoyo had in mind, but damn, if he didn’t care.

He slid home to the sweet harmony of them moaning together. He tried, truly tried to hold still and let Kageyama adjust, but he couldn’t stop his hips from twitching forward, trying to reach even deeper. “Sho—”

“I know, sorry, I can’t— fuck, you’re tight,” Shoyo groaned. His fingers pressed at Kageyama’s hips, tight enough that he knew they would leave bruises. But Kageyama didn’t complain, too focused on relaxing around Shoyo’s hard length reaching deep inside him.

“Move.”

Shoyo was pulling out before the word finished leaving Kageyama’s lips, thrusting back in and setting a desperate pace. This wasn’t what he’d planned, didn’t match the image he’d had of a slow, drawn-out fuck, leaving Kageyama panting and begging under him. But Shoyo couldn’t help himself. After everything they’d been through that day—a loss, a win, revealing their relationship to the world and navigating the resulting rush of last-minute interviews, and celebrating both their win and their reveal with the team at dinner—all Shoyo wanted was to lose himself in the sublime, tight heat of the love of his life.

“Ah! Right there, fuck—!”

“Yeah, I’ve got you,” Shoyo panted, keeping up the perfect angle as he kept plowing forward. “You feel so good, Tobio, you’re always so good for me.”

“For you,” Kageyama breathlessly echoed, his words melting into soft, whining moans that left his lips with every thrust.

“Good boy.” Kageyama’s next whine was almost a wail, and he fell to his elbows, sweaty bangs brushing the plain covers and cock drooling beneath him. “That’s right,” Shoyo hissed, pressing his hips to Kageyama’s and grinding in as deep as he could, “you’re my good boy, aren’t you?”

It was still incredible to Shoyo, the way the pet name so thoroughly unwound Kageyama. He went wordless, reduced to whines and clumsy attempts to fuck himself on Shoyo’s dick. “Shhhh, easy does it.”

“No,” Kageyama mumbled into the sheets, “more, need more, m’close.”

“What do you need, Tobi?” Shoyo already knew what he needed, but it was always heady to hear Kageyama stumble over his words when he was usually so taciturn.

“Touch me, fuck me, c’mon—!” This time, he really did wail when Shoyo took hold of his cock. He couldn’t seem to decide between fucking back on him or thrusting into his hand, leaving him shuddering with twitching hips. “Yes, yes, yes—”

“Are you close? Gonna come for me?”

“Please, Sho, please—”

“I’ve got you. C’mon baby, come for me, you’re so close.”

“Close, close— nngh, Sho!” Kageyama pressed his face to the bed to muffle his shout when he finally broke, spilling onto the bed sheets and rocking against Shoyo. He tightened impossibly more around him, trapping Shoyo and leaving him only able to grind in until he followed him over the edge with a drawn-out groan.

Neither of them could say anything, their lips only parting around gasps for air and a last few shuddering moans from the aftershocks. Shoyo could only form words when Kageyama nearly collapsed into his own mess on the bed. “Woah, careful—” He just barely caught him by the hips and tipped him to the side, earning a soft grunt of thanks. “You okay, Tobio?”

“Mm…yeah, just…god, Sho.”

Shoyo could only laugh bashfully, tilting forward to kiss Kageyama’s hip before slowly standing on his own shaking legs. “I’ll clean us up, and then we can move to my bed, okay?” Kageyama just nodded into the sheets, but that was good enough for Shoyo.

They moved predictably slowly as Shoyo cleaned them both up, then urged Kageyama to help him strip the dirty covers from his bed and climb into Shoyo’s bed. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, dumbass, I’m fine.”

“Are you gonna be sore tomorrow?”

Kageyama frowned as he gave a tentative stretch of his hip. “...I don’t think so. Nothing that’ll impede my playing.”

“Okay.” Shoyo finally let himself fully collapse into bed, fitting himself against Kageyama’s side like a puzzle piece. Kageyama shifted around until his head fit under Shoyo’s chin and he could nestle into Shoyo’s chest, letting him stroke his fingers through dark hair.

They laid there in silence, curled together so closely, Shoyo wasn’t sure where he ended and Kageyama began. He didn’t mind the quiet, never did when he was with Kageyama. But just as his eyes began drifting closed, he heard, “We kissed at the Olympics.”

“Hm?” Shoyo grunted, jolting awake. “Oh, yeah. Yeah! Just like we planned!”

“So the whole world knows about us.”

Apprehension pricked at Shoyo. Kageyama’s voice was flat, matter of fact, with an undertone of nerves that Shoyo couldn’t parse out. “Yeah, but…we planned for that. And that’s what we wanted, right?”

“Right, just…”

Why did he sound so nervous? What was Kageyama thinking about? Shoyo looked down at his smooth black hair and joked, “You’re not breaking up with me, are you?”

Well…he meant it as a joke, but he could hear the tension in his voice, which meant Kageyama would hear it, too.

Sure enough, Kageyama pulled away to frown at him. “No, dumbass! I’m just thinking…”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Fuck off.” The phrase was flippant, with no heat or bite behind it. Shoyo pressed his lips thin to hold back his snort of laughter and waited for Kageyama to go on. “I was thinking,” he continued with a roll of his eyes, before he settled back down against Shoyo, “the world knows. The whole world knows that…that we’re together. That we love each other.”

“Yeah…?”

“And that we’re serious about each other.”

“Right…”

Calloused fingertips began drawing patterns across Shoyo’s chest. Despite the worry swelling in him, he still felt a jolt of fondness at the nervous habit. It had been a while since Kageyama last doodled on him like that. “Like…serious enough to be together for our whole lives?”

“Yeah!” Shoyo scoffed, indignant at the mere thought of the alternative. “You’re stuck with me, Tobi!”

He heard a soft snort, then silence for a beat, before, “Then…should we make it official?”

“I thought we just did that?”

“Dumbass, I meant…legally.”

There was heavy intent behind Kageyama’s words, but Shoyo couldn’t fathom what he was trying to imply. “Legally? What do you mean?”

“I mean marriage,” Kageyama scoffed, before raising himself to look Shoyo in the eye. “Marry me, dumbass.”

Oh. Oh. Oh, Shoyo loved him so much. He had never felt so certain about an answer in his whole life. But first: “Wow. That might be the least romantic proposal I’ve ever heard.”

“Hah?! Who else proposed to you?!”

“No one, stupid!” Shoyo said with a light flick at Kageyama’s forehead. “But I’ve heard other couples’ proposals, and they were way nicer than that!”

The nerves lining Kageyama’s eyes stiffened into annoyance. “So what, you’re not gonna marry me because I didn’t propose right?”

“What? I didn’t even answer!”

“Then answer, dumbass!”

“Yes, dummy! Of course I’ll marry you!”

Somewhere along the way, Shoyo’s voice began shaking with gleeful laughter, and soon Kageyama was laughing with him, and they laid there, laughing and laughing, and Shoyo had the idle thought that if someone could die from too much happiness, he would have perished a thousand times over by now.

Their laughter faded away, leaving Kageyama gazing down at Shoyo with the soft look of adoration that never failed to make love spread warm through him like a hot cup of tea. “You’re my future, Tobio,” he murmured, bringing his hands to Kageyama’s cheeks and stroking over their curves with gentle thumbs. “I’m never gonna stop running forward. I don’t care if I’m chasing you, or you’re chasing me, or we’re running together. I just…I want to do it with you. Forever.”

“Good.” Kageyama pushed himself up properly and fit himself between Shoyo’s legs. “Because I’m going to love you forever, Hinata Shoyo.”

Shoyo knew everything was going to continue changing now that their relationship was public, and that those changes were going to be daunting, no matter if they were good or bad.

But as he gazed up at Kageyama, at this man who had so inextricably woven himself into his heart, he knew, with a rare sense of certainty, that it would be worth it, all of it. He was worth it.

“And I’ll love you in this universe and the next, Kageyama Tobio.”

Because as long as they had each other, they’d be invincible.

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