Miya Atsumu hasn’t gotten less annoying since Tobio last saw him, just differently annoying. He has his arm around Hinata’s shoulders like he thinks Tobio is going to steal Hinata right out from underneath his nose.
The thing is: that’s all Tobio wants.
All of the guys who played against each other in high school go out together to an izakaya after the game. The Black Jackals are ebullient in their victory, but it’s not like it was in high school—they’re all pros now, and you win some, you lose some, but there’s still more volleyball to be played.
And oh, Tobio wants to play it. He’s already itching for that next game, he already wants to see more, more, more of what this Hinata can do. This Hinata who’s a little bit taller, a little bit more muscular, who jumps like he’s not tethered to the earth like ordinary mortals.
Hinata taught him to trust that he could set for others, that someone would be waiting for him. And it was electric to play against him, but Tobio wonders what it would be like now, if he could set for Hinata now.
“You’re staring,” Ushijima says quietly.
Tobio covers by taking a long drink of water. Atsumu meets his gaze and pulls Hinata closer, over Hinata’s laughing protests.
They shouldn’t drink, probably, but tomorrow is just a travel day. They’re young and it’s kind of a reunion, and it feels worth celebrating.
Atsumu starts ragging on Hoshiumi about his tolerance, which starts a loud three-way argument between them and Bokuto. The distraction is probably the only reason Hinata is able to escape Atsumu’s clutches and wander over to Tobio’s end of the table and collapse virtually in his lap, in the space between him and Ushijima. It’s a tight squeeze, and Tobio’s basically forced to pull Hinata in close so that he can sit down properly.
“We’re even, now,” Hinata says, and looks up at Tobio with those big eyes that seem a little older and a lot more clever than when they graduated.
“Not for long,” Tobio says, and the hungry anticipation he feels is only mostly about volleyball. The other part of it is wanting to unravel all these new secrets, to lay Hinata bare until Tobio knows all of him again.
“I’ll show you,” Hinata says, and lifts his chin in challenge. “I’ll show you—”
“Show me,” Tobio breathes, and he feels Hinata shiver against him. He’s warm and more solid in Tobio’s arms than he was in high school, but Tobio is taller and broader than he was in high school, too, and Hinata fits against him like he was meant to be there.
“Bathroom,” Hinata blurts out, abruptly ruining the moment. Tobio is, well, disappointed. It’s not that he thought anything would really happen, certainly not in front of their teammates, but.
“Down the hall,” Tobio says shortly, nodding toward the sign, but Hinata tugs on his arm.
“Help me there,” Hinata says.
Tobio frowns; he didn’t think Hinata had that much to drink, but then again, who knows how often Atsumu was filling up his glass. He sighs and stands up, before holding a hand down to help Hinata off the floor. “Come on, you lightweight,” he says.
Hinata sputters in outrage but takes his hand, and it’s not like their handshake at the end of the game they just played, but it winds Tobio up anyway.
Hinata leans on him, and Tobio curls an arm around his waist. At the end of the hall are a few individual bathrooms, which is probably just as well if Hinata is going to embarrass himself by getting sick. Tobio pushes Hinata inside one and locks the door behind them.
Tobio’s not entirely prepared for Hinata to throw himself into Tobio’s arms, but when Hinata turns his face up, when Tobio feels him shift his weight to go up on his toes, there was never any outcome but this one, to meet Hinata’s lips, to hold him close and swallow his noises and welcome him home.
Tobio shifts them away from the door to the wall, and slaps his hand against the otohime button next to the toilet, as if that’s really going to cover up the sound of—whatever it is they’re going to do together here.
“Kageyama-kun,” Hinata says, and Tobio didn’t know his voice could sound like that, husky and already well on its way to wrecked, but he wants more of it. “Kagayama, are we really going to—”
“Wasn’t that your plan?” Tobio asks, following a tantalizing line of freckles down Hinata’s neck with his lips, and Hinata gasps in his ear.
“I didn’t think you’d really—”
Tobio goes still. “You don’t want to?” he asks carefully.
Hinata gets his hands in Tobio’s hair and pulls so that Tobio has no choice but to look at him. “I want to,” he says. And then he huffs out a laugh. “I just didn’t think you’d be the type, not in the toilet.”
“What’s wrong with that,” Tobio mutters, carefully avoiding the fact that Hinata’s correct: he’s really not the type at all.
“Nothing!” Hinata says, and rolls his hips up against Tobio’s in a way that makes it very clear just how into this Hinata is, and Tobio pushes him up a little further up the wall, so that Hinata is well and truly riding his thigh. “Better than the beach—the sand gets everywhere, it’s not—ah—fun.”
“Who have you been having sex on beaches with?” Tobio demands, partly jealous and partly astonished. His own sex life has apparently been pedestrian so far.
“You know,” Hinata says, and Tobio does not, and doesn’t want to hear it. “Sometimes after a really good game, don’t you ever just want to—”
Tobio sticks his hand down Hinata’s pants to curl his fingers around his cock. “Sure,” he says, and god, Hinata’s leaking everywhere already. He’s going to be such a mess, and Tobio can’t wait, and maybe that’s why he says, “But only with you.”
Hinata’s eyes go wide. “You—Kageyama-kun—”
Tobio clenches his jaw; he wishes he were cool, he really does, but all he’s got is this overflowing loyalty, this dedication, and he’s no Brazilian beach volleyball player, but he knows how to meet Hinata halfway. He pulls Hinata’s track pants and his underwear down, and when he looks, Hinata is hard and wet, and his cheeks are flushed pink, and he’s like a fever dream that Tobio doesn’t quite remember having but doesn’t know how he could have forgotten.
He shoves his own pants out of the way and takes both of their cocks in his hand, and says in Hinata’s ear, “I’m going to give it to you, better than any of them.”
“Yeah,” Hinata gasps out, and Tobio has to kiss him again, fierce and demanding, and Hinata melts against him, and Tobio wonders if he did this for all those others, if they could match him just like this.
He nips a little harder at Hinata’s neck, because the first time he scraped his teeth there earned him a gasp and a restless thrust of Hinata’s cock into his palm, and it pays off—Hinata makes a high noise, almost a squeal. It’s good, but Tobio is sure he could do better. “What makes it good for you?” he asks Hinata.
“This is good,” Hinata says, and Tobio doesn’t think he’s lying, but he doesn’t know where the bar is, either. If the bar is set at one night stands who didn’t know Hinata, not really, who didn’t care how far he’d come, who only knew how high he can jump but not how to give him exactly what he needs—
Tobio strokes them together faster, precome making their cocks slide together just right. “It can be better,” he decides, because when has good ever been good enough?
“Later,” Hinata says, panting. “After—can we—a love hotel—”
They’ll be missed by their teammates, but Tobio really doesn’t care about that right now. All he wants—all he wants—is to mark Hinata as his, to leave no doubt in Hinata’s mind or anyone else’s.
“What do you want?” Tobio demands. Just because Hinata wants to do this again—and again, and again, Tobio hopes—is no reason to not give it his all right now.
“Is there lotion?” Hinata asks, and Tobio barely has to stretch to snag it from the sink. He doubts it would be there if this bathroom were for men only, but they’re in luck.
Tobio can guess what Hinata wants next, but he’d hate to be wrong. “I don’t have a condom,” he warns Hinata.
Hinata looks embarrassed, his face flushed. He looks away. “Could you—with your fingers—”
Now would probably be the time to mention that Tobio really doesn’t know what he’s doing with anyone’s ass, let alone Hinata’s, but it can’t be that complicated. And if Hinata’s asking for it, he must know enough of what makes him feel good, and Tobio can work with that. He pulls Hinata closer, and trails his fingers, slippery with lotion, down between Hinata’s cheeks, and touches his hole carefully, rubbing it gently.
Hinata’s got his arms around Tobio’s shoulders and he’s clinging to him, and it makes Tobio feel a million feet tall. “In me,” Hinata says in his ear. “You can—your fingers, I always—”
Tobio eases one in, very slowly, just to the first knuckle. “You thought about this?” he asks. Hinata is tight and warm around his finger, and the thought of him wanting this—
“Your hands,” Hinata says, and he sounds almost longing. “Kageyama-kun—”
Tobio pushes his finger the rest of the way in, and then he must do something really good, because Hinata sobs for breath and asks him to keep doing it. The angle isn’t great for his wrist, but they’re rubbing their cocks up against each other, and Hinata is panting against his shoulder and making these helpless noises, like Tobio is driving him out of his mind.
“Shh,” Tobio says, and then gives him another finger, which does not help with the noise level at all, and then Hinata clenches tight around his fingers and trembles and comes apart for him.
Tobio goes still again. He thinks he ought to give Hinata a moment and then offer to clean him up. He’s pretty sure that’s the gentlemanly thing to do, even if he’s aching to come.
“Kageyama-kun, aren’t you going to—” Hinata trails off, and looks down between them, where Tobio is indeed still incredibly hard.
“Um,” Tobio says. He’s about to pull his fingers out of Hinata when Hinata grabs his arm.
“Leave them?” he asks. “And later—”
Tobio does as he’s bidden, leaves his fingers right in Hinata’s hole and takes his cock with his free hand. “Later?” he prompts, jerking himself off fast and desperate.
Hinata’s still clinging to him, and he says in his ear, “Mess me up, Kageyama—mess me up inside—”
Tobio comes hard, all over the both of them, and everything is Hinata in his arms and Hinata’s hiccuped moan in his ear and Hinata’s hand in his hair and the promise of later, of again.
They catch their breath, and then Tobio has to kiss Hinata, and then kiss him some more, and then Hinata pokes him in the side and hisses, “Kageyama-kun, we have to—”
Tobio pulls back to assess the damage.
“There’s no way we can go back out there,” Hinata moans, accepting a damp paper towel from Tobio to mop himself up. Their shirts are both a lost cause.
There’s really only one thing to do. Tobio pulls his phone out of his pocket and sighs before sending a brief text.
There’s a tap on the door a few minutes later, and Tobio carefully edges the door open to see Ushijima, holding both of their team jackets. He takes them and hands Hinata’s off to him, before shouldering into his own and zipping it up. It’s not great but it’s good enough to get them out of there in one piece.
“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well,” Ushijima says to Hinata with his usual stoic reserve.
“Oh, um, yeah,” Hinata says weakly. “I guess I don’t usually drink so much.”
Tobio pulls out his wallet and hands Ushijima enough bills to cover himself and Hinata. “I’m taking him to rest,” he says.
Ushijima nods, and the two of them snag their winter coats and hustle their way downstairs and out into the cold winter evening.
They’re halfway down the street when Hinata stops suddenly. “Did you just pay my tab?” he asks incredulously.
Tobio has his hand around Hinata’s wrist. “Of course I did,” he says shortly.
Hinata’s eyes are wide. “You never used to pay for anything—”
“It’s different now,” Tobio says stubbornly, and musters the courage to take Hinata’s hand properly. “Isn’t it?”
They’re back in Miyagi, where it all started for the both of them, but Tobio couldn’t have imagined this back then. He is that boy and yet not; he wonders if Hinata feels the same.
“Yeah,” Hinata says, squeezing his hand gently, and the expression on his face is full of wonder, and something softer, more vulnerable, and Tobio wants to gather him up in his arms and never let him go.
He doesn’t know how long they look at each other, but the moment is broken by Hinata’s phone chiming in his pocket. He pulls it out, and Tobio shamelessly looks at the screen over Hinata’s shoulder.
It’s a text from Atsumu with an address, which turns out to be for a nearby love hotel with very good reviews. It’s followed by a winky face emoji, a promise to cover for Hinata tonight, and an admonishment to not let Tobio get so carried away that Hinata has a hard time sitting on the train back tomorrow.
“Oh,” Hinata says, and his face falls a little. “I kind of forgot about that. That we have to go back tomorrow.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Tobio says. “You’re not an ocean away anymore.”
And there’s Hinata’s smile, bright and determined, and Tobio’s missed it, so much.
They argue about the directions on the phone until they stumble across the doorway to the hotel, and Tobio leads them up to their room, where he finally, at last, thoroughly welcomes Hinata home.