He wakes to Hinata kissing him in the dark.

"I'm going for a run," he hears him say and Tobio grunts in reply, turning his head to chase after his lips.

Shouyou snorts in fond amusement but leans down all the same in delight. He presses an indulgent kiss on sleep-slack lips, and runs fingers through thick black hair.

"Get some more rest, sleepy-Yama," he says, leaning down for one more peck.

Normally, Tobio would be awake, up and running like Shouyou, but he finds himself utterly drained and sore in an unfamiliar yet addictive way. So instead, he watches Shouyou get dressed. The redhead raids his closet without so much as a by-your-leave. Then, he stops by the door, grinning as Tobio blinks at him, dazedly.

"I'll be back in a bit," he says, closing the door quietly after himself. Tobio goes back to sleep.

◂ ﴾ ❖ ﴿ ▸

Tobio wakes up some time after, rubbing the bleariness from his eyes. He rises from bed, his body protesting the motion. He groans at the deep ache he feels, but then the memories of last night resurface, flooding his mind's eye with rich imagery. He flushes, stands up, and finds himself even more flustered by the feeling of something wet dripping down his leg. Tobio rushes off to the bathroom.

'Gross,' he thinks to himself, wiping down brusquely. His mortification is on full display in the mirror and yet he is also helpless to the gormless smile pulling at his lips. He shakes his head, closing the drain and turning up the faucet to fill the basin. Then, with a deep breath, he ducks down, submerging his face.

The cool sensation of water takes over his senses. The world feels muted here, far enough away that he gets to just think.

He doesn't feel any different. Well, that's not entirely accurate. He feels a cocktail of new emotions: embarrassment at how brazen he was last night; simmering arousal at how needily he had reached for Shouyou; and satisfaction at how fiery and repeatedly he had been answered. Still, it isn't exactly what he expected—not that he can really articulate the nuances of it.

The years have exposed Tobio to the spectacle of sex; from overtures by their PR manager to use his so-called sex appeal for publicity; to his wider social circle including him in their discussions of romantic and sexual pursuits; and even actual propositions from some acquaintances and strangers alike. All of it comes to him as white noise. The "want" of it had always escaped him, and so, he resigned himself to accepting another facet of his identity being a bit at odds with the rest of the world.

He still remembers how some of his friends expressed surprise at his lack of experience, but the entire concept of it remained amorphous, even challenged with their good-natured prodding.

It just didn't matter.

Until it did.

It's different with Hinata. There's a weight to their relationship that draws him in. It had been scary the first time he had experienced it. The attraction. Back in their third year, Hinata had been doing some after practice stretches and Tobio had looked, and he had seen.

He had never really understood how irrational people acted. In truth, he sometimes doubted the sincerity and depth of their desires.. The feelings just made no sense to him. But right there and then, he had tasted it, and it left him punch-drunk and restless.

The heat came first, with startling intensity. It caught under his skin, leaving his palms clammy with sweat. His heart came second, skipping merrily even though they were in the middle of a cool down session. He worried his lunch was giving him heartburn until the clenching of his gut and the dryness of his mouth clued him in on how he couldn't take his eyes off of Hinata.

It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating.

That feeling came and went over the course of their final year. It left him confused most of the time, and conflicted on others. They had parted in slightly tenuous terms. Best friends—undoubtedly so—each carrying half of a promise but there was a conversation that never happened, a confession left to the dead of night. Hinata had looked at him the last time they were in the Karasuno gym. His eyes had been searching. Expectant, almost. Tobio still didn't understand then. He had needed the distance and a hundred conversations over shoddy reception and slow internet to make it clear. To make it real.

The concept of it all: sex and attraction, virginity and sexuality, all of it is still so murky to him; but ultimately, Tobio finds it irrelevant. What mattered instead was the warmth of Shouyou's skin, the strength in his arms and the shifting muscles in his thighs. Tobio still feels echoes of how Shouyou's breath had fanned across his lips. He still sees the amber shine of his eyes, looking at him with such focused intensity—so familiar yet overwhelmingly unique in that instance. He can still hear the rustle of his sheets and Shouyou's voice playing a lilting song of pure seduction.

"Can I move Kageyama?"

"Let me hear you. C'mon silly, don't be shy. It's just us."

"Does it feel good Kageyama?"

"You're so tight Yamayama!"

"I'm gonna fuck you so well."

"Cum for me Tobio."

"...I'm not done with you yet."

Tobio splutters as he violently pushes away from the sink. He can't help but crouch down, hiding his face behind his hands once again as he lets out a long whine. 'Stupid Hinata,' he grumbles to himself. How the idiot came back from Brazil all shameless and… sexy, Tobio will never know.

He spends a few more minutes cursing the redhead out but eventually his stomach grumbles. Now that he's paying attention, he realizes how hungry he is. They did burn a lot of calories last night.

'Maybe I can make Hinata breakfast?,' he thinks, imagining Hinata coming back to his apartment, all sweaty and smiling. Maybe he'd be impressed by Tobio's cooking prowess, his tried and true recipe: egg fried rice. Tobio's lips squirm in delight at the thought. He also feels like hitting himself. He feels so lame and sappy and dumb.

But he also can't ignore how badly he wants it.

Mission set, he puts on his boxers—and only his boxers. Maybe if he delays his shower a certain idiot will help wash his back when he returns. The thought makes him crouch down once more, grumbling into his hands. This is so awkward! It's all so new and terrifying and it fills him with such joyous anticipation but also nerve-wracking anxiety. But no, if he's going all in on this-this… thing that they have or are building towards, then he is going to be as unapologetic and greedy about it as he wants.

After all, he didn't here by being shy or cautious.

◂ ﴾ ❖ ﴿ ▸

He patters out into the rest of his apartment and sees it bathed in sunlight. It's quaint, open in design and minimally furnished with utilitarian pieces. He has a handful of knickknacks here and there, some workout equipment, a few pictures, memorabilia from Karasuno, his Olympic medal, and two potted plants from his sister. He's never been fond of dark, closed off spaces, and dislikes the stress of additional clutter. So despite having the means to get a bigger apartment, Tobio finds that he prefers the easy way light suffuses the entirety of his apartment and the simplicity required in such limited space. As for those times it gets a little claustrophobic, he goes on long runs or out into his small balcony.

Now, he spots a plastic bag on his kitchen counter. He checks its contents and finds food from the nearby konbini. Some cut up fruit, onigiri, eggs, bread. That sports drink Hinata prefers. Milk. The last two make him smile.

In the corner of his eye, he spots something move and he turns to see white curtains dancing in the air. Hinata must've gone out to the balcony. He sneaks over playfully. A little scare to get their morning started sounded like a great idea. Tobio peeks through the doors and spots Hinata sitting on the floor, with his borrowed shirt folded neatly beside him. How curious. He's just sitting there.

He's meditating, Tobio realizes.

It hits him then.

A short scrappy boy with wild red hair and even wilder instincts. A challenge declared. Karasuno. Brazil. His team's loss the other day to the ever energetic MSBY Jackals, and that same boy laughing in victory on the other side of the court.

Tobio feels like crying and he really doesn't understand why.

Shouyou is a marvel to behold in the morning light. Wide bare shoulders soaking in the warmth of the sun. He sits tall, carries himself with a certainty bolstered by courage and experience. Tobio watches him take deep breaths, then spots the evidence of last night on his skin, scratch marks along his back, red spots along his neck and shoulders. Shouyou breaths out.

Tobio has to brace himself on the kitchen counter. He feels faint all of a sudden. There's a dull thud behind him but he can't be bothered to check what it was he had jostled.

Hinata jumps at the sound, turning to look behind him. He smiles wide when he sees him.

"You're awake! I was just about to—Kageyama?"

◂ ﴾ ❖ ﴿ ▸

Shouyou rushes over.

"Hey, hey, Yama, what's wrong?"

Even his voice is different now. Pitched lower with a slight raspiness made all the more pronounced by the racket they made last night. Tobio starts to cry. It's nonsensical. He doesn't understand what his problem is, and it's frustrating to feel his throat close up and his eyes well with tears. So stupid. He rubs his eyes angrily.

"Kageyama?" Hinata tries to pry his hands away. He lets him.

Tobio tries to take deep breaths to calm himself down as Hinata rubs soothing circles on the back of his hands. He feels soft kisses peppered along his knuckles and blinks his eyes open to the sight of Hinata looking at him with such earnest care. It almost sets him off again.

"What's wrong?" Shouyou asks, reaching a hand up towards his face.

The warmth of his palms and the calluses on his skin feel like a balm. Tobio nuzzles into Shouyou's touch. He thinks. Breaths. Looks at the familiar face—and that's the distinction, Hinata's face is familiar – recognizable – but still, different.

He answers, "Nothing."

Shouyou opens his mouth, ready to argue, but then stops. He studies Kageyama's expression. He finds no lie, no attempt at a diversion, only fondness and...relief?

"You're not...hurt?" he whispers, embarrassed but also stubborn in his concern. He may not have been as gentle as he should've been last night and they had gone at it for hours.

Tobio's cheeks glow pink, his mouth pouting into an frustrated moue, but he shakes his head. He reaches for Hinata, holding onto his hips with a tightness that borders on painful. The touch only makes Shouyou's blood sing.

"Hmm… okay then," Shouyou says, smiling reassuringly up at him, then with mischievous delight, "now, come here!"

Shouyou pulls Kageyama closer, kissing into his mouth with a teasing lick. Tobio latches onto him, moaning at the sensation. Shouyou's hands wander, luxuriating in the feeling of so much skin as Kageyama breaks their kiss to breath in the scent of Hinata's sweat. His lips graze along the warm curve of Hinata's shoulder. Shouyou shivers. Never one to be outdone, he licks across Kageyama's smooth collarbone, before sliding his lips back up his neck, and sucking a bruising kiss against his pulse. Kageyama groans but to Shouyou's surprise, the other man doesn't escalate the encounter.

He's about to ask if he's really alright when, "I missed you," Kageyama says. Shouyou freezes.

"I really missed you."

He gasps. Stunned. He leans back, desperate to see Kageyama's face but the other man clings, hiding away in the crook of Shouyou's neck. He feels Kageyama's lashes brush against his skin and with it, the unmistakable dampness caused by tears.

"Hey," Shouyou coos, "let me see you."

Kageyama refuses, shaking his head obstinately. Shouyou's at a lost, he has never had to deal with Kageyama acting this way. It worries him, and when he's worried he tends to resort to what is familiar to them both.

"C'mon scaredy-Yama, what are you hiding for?" he asks, trying to keep his tone teasing.

"Don't call me that, dumbass," Tobio replies hotly, if a little shakily. He takes a deep breath. In and out, before he lets Hinata move him away. Shouyou cradles his face.

Tobio observes the way the morning light hits Hinata's deep brown lashes. It makes his eyes seem even softer, which in turn makes Tobio feel fragile yet steady. He is so overwhelmed by the man before him. He feels the threads of his life intersect here. The hurt, the struggle, the loneliness, and anger. The joy, the excitement, and the camaraderie of eccentric misfits. All the passions of his life are being fed through a loom to weave before him this tapestry of Hinata Shouyou, standing in his apartment. Sun-kissed, shirtless, with mismatched socks, and a red line along his forehead where a headband would have been.

"If you get really good, I promise you, somebody who's even better will come along and find you."

Tobio leans down, kisses him tenderly.

"Thank you," he breathes into Shouyou's lips.

◂ ﴾ ❖ ﴿ ▸

"Thank you."

Shouyou's face crumples.

He did not expect that at all. Even worse, he's pretty sure that was supposed to be his line!

'Stupid Kageyama! He just had to say it first! Why did he have to be so silly! And dumb—and handsome-and amazing, and just-waaaah!' he drives Shouyou crazy!

Shouyou kisses him back with a fervor akin to fanatical devotion. So in awe is he of the man before him, with his ever growing talent and genius, his brilliance and dogged persistence. Dedication made flesh demands worship, and so Shouyou ardently serves, using his mouth, hands, and thigh to wring pleasure out of Kageyama.

His touch would've remained reverent, but a soft, "Hinata," pleaded against his temple, reminds Shouyou of the man. Grumpy-Yama with his taciturn moods and floundering social skill, who hides his shyness and insecurities behind a glare, but also chases after kittens and ducklings, and treats little sisters with such gentle and protective consideration. So earnest and touch-starved.

Shouyou turns their kiss decidedly more obscene. It becomes sloppy. Biting. It is undoubtedly human in its desperation. He licks and sucks, gropes with greedy fingers. Everything in this moment has been made possible by the turning of a clock, and so too is it threatened by it. They have this moment. Unique in its intensity and sentiment—and so Shouyou savors the taste and feel of the man before him.

He pushes into Kageyama's space, unintentionally pressing him against the hard countertop. Kageyama grunts, his voice tinged with pain, but his arms remain wrapped around Shouyou's shoulders; his leg hooking around his hip.

Shouyou is reminded of last night.

He remembers Kageyama moaning, reaching for him, trust writ in his body as he lay boneless atop royal blue sheets. He remembers the stutter in his breath, the gasping whimpers of his name as he swallowed Kageyama down. He had tasted of salt and skin. He remembers long setter fingers clenched tight, and averted eyes, even as Kageyama opened his legs wider. Shouyou had to kiss him then, whisper sweetly and blow raspberries on his stomach, to evoke a familiar yell and then, laughter. He remembers the slickness of skin, then the tightness and heat. Dilated blue eyes glossed over in pleasure, looking at him helplessly, pleadingly

After, they had laid there, luxuriating in each other's presence. Kageyama hadn't seemed so kingly then. He was still gorgeous, unfairly so, but the ever present distance between them had closed in, so Hinata had reached and held on.

"Wait, you've never…?"

"No. I didn't want anyone else," Kageyama had answered, his voice was the softest Shouyou had ever heard it, "I was never really interested in it."

Shouyou had stared, confused and a little worried that he had misunderstood something critical, "… but we just..."

Blue eyes had flitted up to meet his before trailing down. The silence had dragged for a minute and Shouyou's anxiety clawed at him, replacing the satisfaction that had settled in his bones with restlessness. He had felt wrong footed. Displaced.

But then Kageyama had reached for him once more. The tips of his fingers had traced meaningless shapes against Shouyou's stomach. It tickled.

"I was never really interested in it," he reiterated, then continued, "I didn't understand what all the fuss was about. It made no sense, but people still kept telling me how badly they wanted it. As if they were being tempted by a meat bun or a pot of curry just out of reach," he frowned.

Shouyou had smiled. Of course Kageyama would think of food. It took years of discipline for Shouyou to keep his silence then, so tempted as he was to tease the younger man. His smile faded in the face of Kageyama's next words.

"It bothered me," he confessed, "still bothers me… People look at me strangely when I try to explain or they don't—they don't believe me. They tell me I'm lying. It's annoying."

There had been a dark anger that rose in Shouyou at the thought of strangers making Kageyama feel less. He had wanted to fight. He had wanted to yell. But at the same, the bubble that had formed around them had been too precious to waste. So Shouyou had reached over instead, soothing Kageyama with careful strokes on his arm.

Kageyama had relaxed, sinking deeper into the bedding as he continued, "Anyways, there were more important things to focus on, so I kinda forgot about it all. Untill…"

Here Tobio had blushed, his pout had set a little deeper, his eyebrows furrowing a little lower. He seemed unwilling to speak more, so Shouyou had prodded.

"Until?" he asked as he tried to catch Kageyama's eyes.

The younger man had huffed his displeasure, keeping his gaze stubbornly on his hands. Shouyou had reached for both as he wiggled closer, so Kageyama would have no escape.

"Untiiiil?" he insisted.

Kageyama had tried to pull away but Shouyou held on, and almost as if to apologize, he had massaged small circles into his partner's hands—secretly delighting in finally being able to do so.

Kageyama had stayed tomato red – he was so cute, flustered – but he hadn't pulled away so Shouyou considered it a success.

"'til th's you," he had mumbled looking away.

"What?" Shouyou asked, utterly dumbfounded

"'s you!" Kageyama had insisted. His face had started to look more pissed off than embarrassed, which was unintentionally setting Shouyou off as well

"Oi! Mumbly-Yama, speak clearly!"

"How many times have I told you not add anything to my name dumbass!? I SAID. UNTIL. THERE. WAS. YOU!" he had roared into Shouyou's face inches away.

They had looked at each other then. Shouyou with shock, Tobio with growing mortification.

"O-ohhh… I… I see," Shouyou had replied lamely scratching the back of his head with a nervous chuckle. The words eventually caught up to him and it had made him squirm.

It was mutual.

Years spent wondering, finally, he had a definitive answer. It was mutual.

Shouyou had felt like cheering or running around the block a few times, but then he saw the troubled look on Kageyama's face. He had been about to ask why, but then realized that his reaction had been a little lackluster.

No matter, reassuring Kageyama of his feelings would be easy, he had spent years holding back after all. Now, the floodgates had been opened.

He had reached over and finally, he got to ran his fingers through silky black hair—he had always wanted to do that. Kageyama had looked at him cautiously and Shouyou smiled as encouragingly as he could. He wiggled even closer and opened his arms up in invitation.

Tobio had bit his lip, a bad habit he had formed in Shouyou's absence, but then he sighed and leaned in, letting Hinata wrap him up in his sunshine warmth.

Shouyou had smiled as he kissed the crown of his head. His king. His love.

"I..." Kageyama started.

"Hmm?"

"I wanted you," he said plainly, setting butterflies in Shouyou's stomach. There, was his brave and blunt setter, but then Kageyama went on, "there was just you. Just you… boke."

There's an added weight when he says it. He isn't just confessing his feelings—as nerve-wracking as that already is—he's also entrusting a part of himself. Asking—pleading for Shouyou to understand. It's something he's never shared with anyone before.

Shouyou had swallowed a lump in his throat. Then, he let the want – the absolute need for his Tobio – consume him.

Now, Shouyou too feels his eyes warm. Tears escape as he tempers their kiss. Kageyama makes a sound of confusion because he's a greedy, silly sort, who doesn't know any better, so Shouyou has to be the one to lead them into this new intimacy. He has to take care of him. He gets to. Suddenly, he laughs because he feels like the luckiest man to be this giant idiot's second love, outranked only by the sport which brought them together in the first place.

He kisses him, once. Twice. Quick little pecks to sooth. Maybe a third to stop his pouting.

"Kageyama!" he yells, overjoyed.

Kageyama glares at him, flinching at his sudden shout.

"Idiot! You're going to wake up the neighbors on a weekend!" he says, voice equally loud as he holds onto Shouyou and his mouth is doing that squirmy thing where he's trying not to show how amusing he finds the redhead's antics.

"Kageyama, Kageyama!" Shouyou shouts, lifting him off his feet and turning him around in a giddy circle.

"Stop it. Hinata! Oi! Stop-Hinata—"

Shouyou sets him down only to tickle him and Kageyama twists, breathless with laughter.

"W-what are you doing!?"

Shouyou laughs. He stops tormenting his boyfriend—uwaaah!—but keeps him in the circle of his arms. His thumbs draw little circles at the delicious v of his hips.

'Mine. Finally, all mine,' his mind crows.

He smiles, feeling lit from within as he says, "Tadaima, Kageyama-kun."

Shouyou watches Kageyama's usual stormy expression melt. His smile is one Shouyou's never see, so delicate in the morning light. It's such a profound evidence of the passage of time, of how they've changed and grown; apart but never separate. It speaks to a challenge won and a promise Shouyou forever intends to keep.

"Okaeri Hinata-boke."