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Tobio was feeling like absolute shit.
His mouth felt like someone had poured ash into it and he had a splitting headache which was reminding him repeatedly why he rarely drank, with every thrum of pain that it inflicted on his poor body. He didn’t even try to open his eyes, knowing that morning light was the best way to worsen a hangover but thankfully, he’d remembered to close the blinds even in his inebriated state the previous night and it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.
Thank god for small mercies.
So Tobio just lay there motionless, sprawled on his big bed and his face—that was unfortunately facing the windows—shoved into the pillow. He couldn’t even bring himself to turn to the other side of the bed for some blessed relief, limbs feeling like lead. He tried to go back to sleep but his mind, already awake, refused to grant him that luxury.
He was just grateful he didn’t have practice that day and could lie there wallowing in self-pity for as long as he very well pleased. The train of his thoughts picked up pace from the practice to volleyball to the Adlers vs Jackals match he’d played the day before and inadvertently, landed on Hinata. As always, it stuck there like glue and declared it as the end destination.
Tobio sighed, his body practically melting into the mattress.
Hinata, he thought dreamily.
And then caught himself, suddenly wanting to scream.
Fucking Hinata.
Why was he so—so—so Hinata? Why was the little shrimp taking always taking permanent residence in Tobio’s mind?
The image of Hinata on the other side of the net—his every spike, every receive, every set even was playing like an endless reel inside Tobio’s head. It was the first time he’d seen Hinata play in years and to say that it floored Tobio was an understatement. He knew his friend, his ex-teammate, his partner had been working hard in Brazil, knew that Hinata was not going to be the same player or the same person who’d said goodbye to Tobio at Sendai station when he was at the edge of nineteen.
But to finally see it for himself—to watch the graceful arch of his back as he executed every perfect move, his lean muscles rippling under the stadium lights, to see that all-encompassing heat in his eyes when their gazes met—it made Tobio weak in the knees, to the point where Ushijima-san asked him if he was okay and he’d had to make up some excuse about possible dehydration.
He’d felt breathless watching the sheer brilliance of the monster Hinata had become, something jittery racing through Tobio’s body when Hinata flew, and his hands itched to set for him again.
He really hoped he’d get to set for Hinata again.
This wasn’t to say Tobio hadn’t given it his all in the game. Facing off against Hinata had lit a fire inside him that had been extinguished for some time, the familiar push and pull of their rivalry fuelling him to play his best as they traded jabs and insults across the net, the smiles on their faces softening the sharpness of their words.
Tobio loved volleyball but he loved playing volleyball with Hinata the most.
Hinata might have changed in some monumental ways but he had retained the qualities Tobio liked the most in him. His smile, cheeky and bright, still made something flutter in Tobio’s stomach and he was as loud as ever. His hair, shorter now, was still the colour of the sunset and Tobio had to stop himself from burying his fingers in it. He had grown taller but so had Tobio and the difference in their heights remained the same, something Tobio had to fight hard not to find endearing.
He liked the changes he saw too. Hinata wasn’t skinny anymore, his body broad and tan with powerful muscles in all the right places. They’d managed to meet a couple of times in spite of their busy schedules since Hinata had returned to Japan and eventually joined the MSBY Black Jackals but the loose, casual clothes he’d worn then hadn’t done his body justice at all.
It was almost criminal how good his thighs looked in the black shorts of the Jackals’ uniform and Tobio had found his gaze lingering on Hinata’s arms embarrassingly often throughout the match.
Suffice to say, Tobio was completely gone.
Hinata Shouyou was hot and it was wrecking Tobio’s life.
These feelings weren’t exactly new. Attraction towards Hinata was something he’d started dealing with pretty much from the moment he’d met him outside the Karasuno gymnasium when they were fifteen. But he was too young and stupid to know what it meant back then and by the time he got a clue, there were suddenly two continents between them. The distance allowed him to keep these feelings at bay.
This was the plan: he was going to wait for Hinata to meet him at the world stage, advance his volleyball career to the best of his abilities and cross this uncomfortable bridge of feelings when he came to it.
But just like that, three years passed and now Hinata was here. He was spectacular beyond Tobio’s wildest dreams and everything he’d ever felt for the little runt came flooding back, amplified tenfold and fully ready to drown him.
It was infuriatingly annoying. Tobio couldn’t get enough of it.
He remembered shaking Hinata’s hand after the game, feeling proud that Hinata had won rather than bitter about his own team’s loss. They’d gone out to celebrate with the whole Karasuno gang later, one of the best nights of Tobio’s life.
He remembered not being able to keep his eyes off Hinata the whole time and he actually wanted to forget the knowing smirks that fucking Tsukishima sent his way whenever he caught Tobio staring.
The intoxicating evening was down to its last happy dredges when Hinata had pulled him aside outside the izakaya, radiant and flushed with alcohol, and asked excitedly what he’d thought about his receives. Tobio, with a loose tongue and lowered inhibitions, hadn't been able to lie and told Hinata that he thought they were amazing, that Tobio was honoured to have played against him.
Hinata had beamed, his face lighting up like he’d just single-handedly won the Olympics. He’d then proceeded to tear up and flung his arms around Tobio in a tight embrace.
And Tobio melted. He hugged him back just as hard, pushing his nose into the fluffy orange hair of the person who had changed the course of his entire life. In that moment, he had been endlessly thankful for Hinata Shouyou’s existence.
Even now, as he lay in bed miserably, he felt his heart speed up as his mind swirled with thoughts of Hinata, Hinata, Hinata.
Tobio squirmed, his toes curling as an overwhelming need unlike any he’d experienced before clutched him in a vice grip.
He wanted to ask Hinata out. He wanted to ask Hinata out so badly it hurt, but he didn’t know how. Outside of his volleyball skills, Tobio was woefully awkward and socially inept—he hadn’t even found any other person attractive in the last six-seven years, let alone tried to ask anyone out. He never learned this stuff. He was always hyperfocused on volleyball, skipping university to join the V.League straight after graduation and had spent all his school life with just volleyball and Hinata on his mind.
While Hinata, all tan and bilingual and charming, probably had droves of admirers back in Brazil—now in Japan and the rest of the world as well.
Panic seized Tobio and his eyes flew open against the harsh glare of sunlight.
What if Hinata already had someone? What if Tobio was too late? What if—
"Mmm shut up for a second, Kageyama, you're thinking too loud."
Tobio almost jumped a mile into the air at the familiar voice and he would forever deny the embarrassing noise that came out of him as he whirled around in shock.
The sight that greeted him was a dishevelled, half-naked Hinata blinking sleepily at him, covers pooling around his waist and the light brown expanse of his back on full display. Tobio’s breath got stuck in his throat and he would’ve actually thought he was suffering from a heart attack if he wasn’t certifiably at the peak of physical health.
What was—what was Hinata doing here? What was Hinata doing here in all his morning glory, like a fantasy plucked straight out of Tobio’s subconscious?
Tobio blinked, having half a mind to pinch himself. Was he dreaming? Did he astral project Hinata into his room through his horny thoughts?
Hinata shifted slightly, lifting his head to look at Tobio better and Tobio’s eyes inadvertently slid down to his neck. Specifically to the few hickeys littering the smooth skin on the side of his throat, right down to his collarbones and—
Oh.
Oh.
Like a bolt of lightning striking his head, Tobio suddenly remembered giving those hickeys to Hinata and then in quick succession, all the other filthy, filthy things he’d done to that beautiful body just a few hours ago.
Memories rushed into his brain and he remembered how Hinata had offered to drop him home to the Sendai flat he’d bought a year ago, and Tobio had agreed. Their walk through the dark streets had been quiet but electrified with anticipation, hands brushing and currents running up their arms at the contact, like they were both anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And it soon did, for the next thing Tobio remembered was this distinct half-lidded sexually charged look Hinata had given him, driving him absolutely crazy, and then being pushed against the door by the smaller man as he kissed Tobio within an inch of his life.
Once they’d started, they couldn’t stop. It wasn’t in their nature to back down from anything, especially from each other. Tobio had laid Hinata down on his bed and babbled an endless litany of praises into his warm skin, years overdue, and Hinata had keened. He’d squirmed and gasped out his name, finally grabbing a fistful of Tobio’s hair and pulling him up for a bruising kiss, deep and long and meaning so much, too much for their muddled minds to really register in their dazed states.
Heat flooded Tobio’s face. What the fuck? What the fuck?
He just barely stopped himself hyperventilating and took a moment to process the fact that he’d had sex. He’d had sex with Hinata and how the hell was he pining after him when Hinata was right there in his bed next to him?
Tobio wanted to die on the spot immediately.
Hinata was looking at him with a slightly concerned frown. He waved his hand in front of Tobio’s face. “Are you okay, Kageyama? Are you having a seizure?”
And it was the stupidity of that question, the sheer familiarity of the dumb things that came out of Hinata’s mouth on a daily basis, which snapped Tobio out of his trance.
“That’s not how seizures work, idiot,” he responded automatically.
“I don’t know how they work, I’m not a doctor!” Hinata retorted.
“Stupid is what you are!”
“Look who’s talking!”
They lapsed into silence, staring at each other angrily before the moment broke and Hinata’s bottom lip wobbled in an attempt to smother a laugh. Tobio made a “tch” sound and fell back onto his pillow, screwing his eyes shut.
What are we doing?
Are you really here?
Are you okay with what happened last night?
Should we talk about it?
I’m scared, Hinata.
I’m ridiculously in love with you.
“My head is killing me,” Tobio groaned finally, saying none of the things he actually wanted to say. His throat physically constricted at the thought of uttering any of it out loud, into the real world where he couldn’t take it back.
Hinata tsked, voice getting distant as he sat up. “Shouldn’t have drank so much. Are you a pro-athlete or not?”
Tobio cracked one eye open to pin Hinata with an unimpressed look. He resolutely stopped his gaze from dipping down Hinata’s body. “You drank more than me.”
“I don’t get hangovers.”
Tobio gawked at him. “Are you serious right now? That is so unfair.”
Hinata stuck his tongue out at him but then ruffled his hair with a small, calloused hand. “Luckily for you, I do know a hangover cure I learned from my roommate back in Rio.” His eyes widened and he unconsciously tightened his fingers in Tobio’s hair. “Oh my god, you would’ve gotten along so well with Pedro, Kageyama! I mean, not that it can’t still happen. He obviously knows about you and I could totally introduce you two—”
“Stop tearing my hair out, dumbass.”
Hinata squeaked in surprise and let go of Tobio’s hair, shooting him a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”
Tobio huffed and watched as Hinata stretched his limbs and rotated his neck, suddenly transfixed. He licked his dry lips and willed himself to say something.
Just anything. Words. Words that actually mattered.
“Gahhhh I’m starving,” Hinata announced around a yawn, twisting to spring up from the bed. “I want breakfast. Do you want breakfast? Oooh, I made a whole list of continental dishes you’d love. Hopefully, you’ll have all the ingredients—or I could swing around the convenience store if you don’t…”
Hinata’s voice trailed off as he moved and Tobio acted before he could get up from the bed, reaching out a hand to instinctively wrap around Hinata’s wrist, effectively stopping him in his tracks. Hinata turned around to glance at him in puzzlement and Tobio’s heart climbed up his throat.
"Hinata,” he whispered nervously, getting the words out through the thorns around his vocal cords. “I just—about last night. I—we—”
Hinata blinked owlishly. "Do you regret it?"
Tobio’s mouth clamped shut.
Hinata didn’t wait for an answer and said, without an ounce of insincerity, "I don't. Not one bit.”
He paused, the moment suspended in time and then his honey-warm eyes bored through Tobio’s, intense in the way they only got when he was completely serious. It made Tobio shiver.
"Haven't you wanted this?” he asked softly. “Because I have. I do. For so long."
And in spite of the infernal chaos swirling inside his mind, Tobio knew the answer to this question with absolute certainty.
I do too, he thought. I want.
And Hinata’s shoulders relaxed, seemingly having read the answer on his face, because of course he fucking did. Tobio’s thoughts might as well have been transparent to him.
Tobio nodded out of principle anyway, his stomach doing silly little flips and Hinata's lips split into a heartstopping smile.
He leaned in to peck Tobio's cheek. "Don't overthink it, Kageyama-kun,” he said, sounding amused. “Worried-yama. Panicked-yama. Need-to-calm-down-yama."
"I get it," Tobio snapped, glaring and pushing Hinata’s face away from his own burning one.
“Rude!” Hinata exclaimed in mock offence, goading Tobio to give him the finger, then cackling and skipping out of the room like a cheerful gremlin.
Tobio watched him leave till he was out of sight and then slumped back against the headboard, bringing up his hands to bury his face into them. He let out a shuddering breath and attempted to process everything that was happening—unable to believe that it could be this simple.
But then again, why did it have to be complicated? Why wouldn’t it be simple? It was always simple with them.
Why couldn’t Hinata also be feeling everything Tobio had for years? Hinata, who made a list of breakfast foods Tobio would like, who never went without checking in on him for more than a couple of days, sending him silly gifs and memes. Hinata, who stubbornly refused to let Tobio drop out of touch—a speck of longing in his voice whenever they said goodbye on the phone.
Suddenly, the whole picture became astoundingly clear to Tobio. He’d been agonising over nothing, because Hinata was on the same page as him—had been so this whole time. As always.
They never had failed to read each other exceptionally well.
He couldn’t help the giddy smile that spread over his face and had to readjust his expression into his usual scowl before getting out of bed and following Hinata into the kitchen.
The rest of the morning went so naturally that it actually threw Tobio off a little, making him wonder if this was the first time they were doing this or the hundredth. Despite everything having changed between them, at the core, nothing actually had changed.
Hinata was still Hinata and Tobio was still Tobio.
Tobio was still going to yell at the idiot for dropping an egg on his feet, in spite of whether or not he got to openly ogle his butt while he furiously cleaned it up now, and Hinata was still going to force his disgusting hangover cure down Tobio’s unwilling throat whether or not he got to sit on his lap to do it.
Tobio felt like he was floating on a cloud but at the same time, didn’t feel like anything was out of the ordinary. It was a thoroughly disorienting experience.
It was late afternoon when Hinata got ready to leave, claiming he was expected at home and that Natsu had already called him seven times to hurry up. They made plans to meet up in Tokyo later when their schedules freed up a little.
Tobio’s heart gave a painful little pang as Hinata put on his jacket by the door, and oh. This was new.
But that didn’t mean Tobio minded it.
“Oi.” Hinata was looking up at him expectantly.
Tobio furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”
Hinata jumped around on his feet restlessly. "Are you finally going to kiss me or what?"
“Huh?” Tobio gaped at him, hating the way he immediately felt his neck heat up. How was Hinata so unfazed about this?
Hinata pouted. "Kiss me. I've been waiting all morning."
"Then why didn't you kiss me?" Tobio demanded.
Hinata shrugged, swaying closer and closer into his space. "I didn't know if you were ready. You looked a little spooked."
"I'm not five,” Tobio huffed, glowering at him. “And I kissed you plenty last night."
"But not today,” Hinata whined, grabbing the sides of his shirt and rising up on his toes.
“Kiss, Yamayama-kun," he chanted, puckering his lips. "Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss—”
And Tobio sighed, having no choice but to lean down and kiss the little devil, if only to shut him up.
This time he was the one backing Hinata up against the door, coaxing his lips open as one of his hands cupped his face while the other snaked into his fiery hair. Hinata returned the kiss just as eagerly, clutching Tobio tightly around the waist and making devastating little noises into his mouth that Tobio would gladly chase to the ends of the world.
"Hnngh you're way too good at that," Hinata said breathlessly after they’d pulled away, a dazed look in his heavy-lidded eyes. “Not fair. Not fair at all.”
Tobio rolled his eyes fondly, a faint flush on his cheeks. "Shut up, dumbass, and get out of here.”
Hinata gave him a cheeky grin, jumped up to steal one last kiss and then was out of the door in breakneck speed.
The lock on the door clicked into place, just like the last piece of puzzle in Tobio’s life.
Whether he was fifteen or nearly twenty-two, it was funny how the missing piece always seemed to be in the shape of one person.