$LAYYYTER
titsay
if i look back, i am lost
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
noise dept.
@theartofmadeline
One Nice Bug Per Day
wallacepolsom
Kiana Khansmith
★
Sweet Seals For You, Always
hello vonnie
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styofa doing anything
Game of Thrones Daily
will byers stan first human second
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almost home
Sade Olutola
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Japan
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
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seen from Australia
seen from United States
@undercookeddaichi
Fanart of Kenma with his hair and top from the first chapter of the fanfic my heart belongs to daddy by @undercookeddaichi over on Ao3. I love the outfits in the fic and wanted to draw another one ♡ Not entirely sure how to make fabric look shiny but I made an effort haha~
the braid 🥺🥺 he looks so pretty, so so pretty ahhhhhh :,)))) falling in love with him all over again and in love with your art !!!! <3 <3 <3
Akaashi fan art from the ninth chapter of the amazing BokuAka fanfic my heart belongs to daddy by @undercookeddaichi on Ao3. I absolutely adore the author’s writing style and the fact that they included clothing references, so I had to attempt drawing Akaashi with his necklace and top from one of the later chapters ^-^ I included the colored and uncolored versions ♡♡
@undercookeddaichi if you are reading this your fic is amazing, keep doing what you do !!
I TRULY DONT HAVE THE WORDS - 🥺🥺 oh my god akaash looks exactly like how i imagined him,,, the shirt and the necklace, THE NECKLACE 🥺 you are incredibly talented, thank you so so so so fucking much
Ooooh #11!! I wanna hear ur answer!!😤💙💙💙
!!!!!!!!!!
11) How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc)
i haven’t thought about this before, but i think my writing is emotion driven more than anything! at least the process is, in which i try to portray emotions in all sorts of ways other than stating how a character is feeling... and i like to be ambiguous with emotion, so that there are several different interpretations of how a character is feeling :) simple ambiguity describes what i try to accomplish with my style i think. DISCLAIMER idk if i actually do this successfully but that’s what my mindset is while writing at least !! 😣😣 thank you for asking 🥺❤️
“clair de lune” -> this fic is def on the back burner bc my focus right now is “my heart belongs to daddy” but i am currently working on it !!
not even a question omg i just wanted to say i cant even ur fanfic is amazing hhhhadkadhjs
hi friend, thank u for making my WHOLE day 🥺🥺 hhhh i really, genuinely appreciate it. i’m so happy to know even 1 person likes what i write !!! thank you so so much shdhhdbd 🥺💕💕💕 MWAH
When I say “Fanfiction is free” part of what I’m saying is yes, you did not pay for the thing.
But I saw a comment from someone that made me realize the rest of the intention behind these words is being lost.
Fanfiction is provided for free, but it is not produced for free.
Authors pay their effort, including physical and emotional and mental. Authors pay their time, in planning the story (mental time) and writing the story (physical time). Sometimes it’s less than an hour for something quick and dirty, like askbox prompts. Sometimes it’s years of their lives in epic fic hundreds of thousands of words long. Authors pay additional time to alpha read their own stories, trying to make sure that they’re free of SPAG errors and make sense and sound good. Beta readers pay their time and effort alongside the authors for editing the stories. Authors pay for posting their stories with all of the anxieties that come from allowing their work - which to this point they have invested all of the above - into the public eye because while it has certainly cost them a good amount to produce the story, fandom history has proved that many other people out there enjoy fanfiction, and authors believe that at least someone else will enjoy their story, too.
What I am saying when I say “fanfiction is free” is that it costs the writers a lot of something in order to produce it. A lot has already been paid into a piece of fanfiction by the time it is available for readers to read. The expense of fanfiction creation is, by and large, resting squarely atop the shoulders of writers.
What I am saying when I say “fanfiction is free” is that readers don’t have to pay the cost of creating fanfiction.
What I am saying when I say “fanfiction is free” is that readers don’t have to pay in anything - not time, not money, not effort, not anything - in order for fanfiction to be created. It’s a donation. It’s a gift. It’s available for you to take or leave, at the expense of someone else.
Writers have, for a very long time, requested donations of one thing as remuneration for everything they put into making fanfiction: comments. Authors have asked, in so many different iterations: “If you have consumed what I have labored and invested in to create and if you have found any enjoyment in it, please tell me, so that I can recharge enough to do this again.” Some of them may recharge on critical comments, but most of us don’t because we’ve already paid everything we want to pay to create the story.
What I am saying when I say “fanfiction is free” isn’t just that it doesn’t cost you any money. I am saying “Please respect the time and effort you didn’t have to pay into creating this thing you enjoyed, by respecting the individual creator’s requests.”
What I am saying when I say “fanfiction is free” is “be kind to authors, they have paid a lot for this gift they’re sharing with all of us, and they deserve to feel like it was worth it.”
What I am saying when I say “fanfiction is free” is “please don’t charge authors more time and emotional effort than what they’ve already provided you at no absolute cost.”
I’m not saying any of this to argue. It’s a fact that authors pay into providing fanfiction. They do it for fun. They do it out of love. They do it because they enjoy writing. No one is making them do it. No one is paying them to start or finish the story. That doesn’t mean it’s not WORK. And the only return they get on what they put into the story is the kindness of strangers that invest a little bit back by leaving a nice comment. That is why they stay, that is why they do it again, that is why we have fanfiction.
What I am saying when I say “fanfiction is free” is “please don’t be the one charging authors so much more that they leave.”
What I am saying when I say “fanfiction is free” is “please keep it that way.”
fanfic writer asks.
1. What’s your favorite character(s) to write for? 2. What character(s) do you find the most difficult to write for? Why? 3. Do you have a favorite scene you’ve written from [Fanfic Name] story/chapter? 4. Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of [Fanfic Name]? 5. Do you listen to music when writing? 6. If you listen to music when writing, what were you listening to when writing [Fanfic Name]? 7. What story/headcanons do you feel the proudest of? 8. Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi chaptered stories? 9. If you had to assign a theme song to [Fanfic Name], which would you assign? 10. What is the line you’re proudest of from [Fanfic Name]? 11. How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc) 12. Who is your favorite author? 13. When did you start writing fanfic? 14. How do you feel about your older work? 15. What is the fanfic you’ve written that you’re most proud of? 16. What fanfic tropes do you avoid writing for? 17. What fanfic tropes do you gravitate to writing for? 18. Do you prefer editing as you write, or waiting until it’s finished? 19. What words do you think you tend to use the most? 20. What feedback makes you the happiest to hear? 21. Is there an idea you’ve always wanted to write, but haven’t yet? 22. Do you enjoy making OCs for your fanfics, or prefer sticking to canon characters? 23. How much do you stick to canon? 24. Do you prefer AUs with the characters, or sticking to the original universe? 25. What scene in [Fanfic Name] took the longest to write? What was difficult about it? 26. Are titles for your stories easy to come up with? 27. What time of day do you prefer to write? 28. Is there a part of [Fanfic Name] you’re surprised no one has picked up on yet? 29. What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc) 30. Do you write down all your ideas? What makes you decide to write one versus the other? 31. What was the development process of [Fanfic Name] like? 32. What story do you think showcases your signature style the most? 33. Have you ever stopped yourself from writing something? Why? 34. Have you felt emotional while writing a scene before? What scene was it? 35. Where’s your favorite place to write? 36. What fanfic of yours has the symbolism you’re proudest of? 37. Would you ever collaborate with another writer for a story? 38. What story of yours are you surprised that people liked as much as they did? 39. What area of writing do you feel strongest in? 40. What area of writing do you want to improve in?
yes this makes me very happy ok ok !!! feel free to ask me anything 🥺🥺💖💖
if starlight could see us
[ In which Shiratorizawa lost, and Semi and Shirabu come to terms with it on the roof a little past midnight. // Day 5 of SemiShira Week 2020: Stargazing ]
pairing: shirabu kenjirou x semi eita
warnings: explicit language, angst
word count: 1.5k
@semishirafanweek
"We're not allowed to be up here."
"Like you actually care about that."
"Fuck you."
"Shut up, Kenjirou."
The back of Shirabu's head hurts. It's the dull kind of ache that comes from lying on cement in the middle of the night. It hurts inside his head more than outside, like it's seeping into his brain and trying to get out through his eyes, pushing on his eyes. The dull kind of pain that feels like it won't go away unless he presses his head harder onto the concrete, like more pain will make it hurt less, but of course it doesn't make it hurt less and everything is only fucking worse.
Staring up, losing himself in the black swallowing them both, he has to count his breaths to keep from suffocating. It's terrifying, the universe. It's so dark that he can't breathe right. But he doesn't want to move, even if his head hurts, even if he doesn't know how long they've been up here on the roof. He doesn't want to move again a day in his life.
The petty, ugly side of Shirabu Kenjirou. He doesn't want to move anymore, and that only frustrates him further.
He holds his breath.
His fingernails dig into the roof until it hurts.
For a fragment of a moment, he thinks he'll scream, but his breath deflates out of his mouth rather than rushes from his lungs, and it's disappointing, somehow. He would have to inhale again to scream. He would be doing something a favor to inhale, though, so he doesn't want to. His body, maybe.
Fuck that.
"Fuck." Semi seethes.
There's a noise that sounds like Semi's fist thudding against the cement.
Shirabu tries to scream. Nothing comes out. He grinds his teeth together, forces his fingertips deeper into concrete.
It hurts. His entire body hurts.
"And you know why I'm really fucking pissed?" Semi says to the sky.
"Shut up."
"Because you were so good." He slams his fist against the roof again, a little harder. "You did so fucking good, Kenjirou."
"Fuck you."
Semi pulls himself up.
A few clouds blocking the moon drift away. It’s not full yet, but it will be tomorrow, or maybe the day after. The way it dusts Semi’s cheeks, white and silver like that, the moonlight makes it look like he’s crying. He picks up a leaf that must’ve blown onto the roof.
It’s silent, other than an occasional breeze ruffling trees and hair. The sound of the leaf ripping in Semi’s hand is loud. So loud.
Shirabu hasn’t let himself look at Semi since this morning. He didn’t trust himself to, not after the match.
Not that he could look at much of anything with so many insufferable tears drowning his waterline. He spent twenty minutes locked in the bathroom trying to make them stop, make the sobs stop, and even though Semi always makes it stop, he didn’t want to see him.
Semi would have made it worse by making him feel better.
Shirabu doesn’t want to be with him now, either, on the roof of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball gym at midnight. But he doesn’t know where else to go. He couldn’t sleep if he tried.
It’s the first time Shirabu’s looked at Semi since they lost.
There are pink shadows under his eyes, and his hair is sticking up in weird places. His hair, the same shade as the moon, except Semi doesn’t act like the moon.
“We would’ve won.”
Semi scoffs. “Don’t you dare start on that bullshit.”
“If you played setter, we would’ve won.”
“God, Kenjirou, this isn’t- it isn’t about that, okay?” Semi starts to look down at him, but he gets directed by the crumpled leaf in his hand. “It isn’t about any one person. How many times do I have to tell you that? You did everything you could and you were so fucking good and we-” He chokes on the last word. “We lost. Okay?”
Pretty much every person on the volleyball team told Shirabu some distorted version of the same thing, of that idiotic it’s not one person’s fault, as if that will change how much he fucked up. This guilt eating him from the inside.
Because that’s the point. It isn’t about him.
“It’s your last year, Semi.” Shirabu focuses on a star to keep himself together. “This was your last chance.”
“It’s not like I haven’t been to Nationals before.”
“But it’s your last fucking year.”
“I know, Kenjirou. I know that.”
“Then be upset with me.”
“No.”
“Be angry with me.” Shirabu sits up. His head hurts more now.
“Why? So you can justify blaming yourself or whatever the fuck it is you’re doing?”
“I deserve it.”
“Why?”
“You should’ve played today.” One of Shirabu’s nails is bleeding. “It was your last game. You should’ve played.”
“No one expected us to lose.”
Shirabu suddenly leans over, grabs Semi’s collar with both hands because his tie is unfastened and yanks him forward, knocks him off balance. “Be fucking mad at me.”
The air is cold enough that they exhale smoke. Shirabu can count the stars in Semi’s eyes. His hands, his fingers feel weak gripping Semi’s shirt. Like if he lets go he’ll cry again.
“I am mad at you.” Semi murmurs.
“Then act like it.”
“I’m mad at you for blaming yourself.”
“Fuck you.”
“I would rather lose every game than watch you beat yourself up like this.”
“Fuck you, Semi Eita.”
Shirabu’s still holding on, but he’s crying. Maybe he’s been crying the whole time. He’s still holding on, but he falls forward, collapses into Semi’s chest, crying stupid, loud, snotty tears. Semi tugs him closer.
“Fuck you.” Shirabu’s voice breaks. “Fuck you.”
“I’m so proud of you.” Semi rests his chin on top of Shirabu’s hair.
Another cloud must float in front of the moon, blocking its light, because it becomes darker outside Shirabu’s eyelids for a long moment. His breathing shakes and his tears are warm. Then the cloud must drift on, because the moon comes back out.
Like Shirabu feared, something about the way Semi’s rubbing slow circles into his back slows his tears. At some point, he stops crying enough to rest his cheek on Semi’s shoulder instead. It’s not so cold, when they’re close like this.
“What the hell am I supposed to do without you next year?” Shirabu asks.
“You’ll still have me.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.”
“But…” Shirabu hesitates. “Do you mean that? About us.”
“Do I think we’ll still be together next year?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think I can picture my life without you, so, yeah. As long as that’s what you want, too.”
“I do.”
“But?” Semi nudges him.
He always knows when Shirabu’s not saying something.
“What if you meet someone at university?”
“Kenjirou.” Semi sighs, squeezes him. “Where am I ever gonna find someone as bratty yet endearing as you?”
Shirabu tries to kick him, but he just rocks them both to the side a little. Semi smiles, kisses the top of his head.
“You’re mine until you don’t want to be.”
Shirabu doesn’t know how his body has enough energy to blush. “That’s going to be a long time.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Shirabu nods.
“Then marry me.”
Shirabu jerks up, struggling out of Semi’s arms and staring at him with pure panic in his eyes. It makes him feel marginally better that Semi has a humorous smirk on his face, but still. Still.
“What the fuck? We’re teenagers. And we can’t get married, not in Japan. Semi, what the fuck-”
“Kenjirou, chill out.” Semi laughs, cups Shirabu’s chin and runs his thumb along his jaw. “I’m joking. I know all that.”
“Then why would you say that?”
“I wanted to see how you would react.” He shrugs. “And maybe I meant it.”
“Semi-”
“Not now. Obviously not anytime soon. I’m just saying that I love you.”
Shirabu watches him carefully, his heart rate uncomfortably high, his face and his hands getting hotter. But Semi spreads his arms, inviting Shirabu back into them, and he gives in.
“It’ll be okay. Next year, you’ll be okay. And when you wake up tomorrow, you’ll be okay, too.” Semi stares back up at the moon once Shirabu is comfortable. “Win for me. Next time.”
“I will.”
“You better.”
“I love you, too.”
Shirabu has never been a fan of stargazing, but this isn’t too bad. That’s what this has to be, stargazing.
It’s beautiful up here. With Semi, it’s beautiful.
“Is that a planet?” Semi nods up at something.
“Where?”
“There. Above the moon.”
“No. That’s a star.”
If they had won, they wouldn’t be up here now.
It’ll probably take Shirabu months to let it go. To quit feeling guilty. He played his last game with Semi today, and he didn’t know it. He might not ever let this go.
But if they had won, they wouldn’t be up here now.
Under starlight, together.
my haikyuu bokuaka tattoo bc idk how to use ao3 :,)
Sassy Omega Oikawa is what we love in this world
Fan art for the wonderful fic the way he said his name by @undercookeddaichi
As soon as I read the description of the outfit, I knew I had to draw it. Really happy with how it turned out though sheer clothing is gonna be the death of me. Ugh. I feel like I should post more here aha. One day, one day.
THIS IS AMAZING ,, MY HEART IS FULL OH MY GOODNESS :,))))
undercookeddaichi masterlist ✨
*aka all of my homoerotic haikyuu fanfiction in one place (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)
rule #4 - don’t stare at hot boys (semishira)
i never thought it would be you (kagehina) - omegaverse
all the queer kids join the volleyball club (kagehina)
rule #4 - don’t stare at hot boys
[ Shirabu Kenjirou does not fall for straight guys. Straight guys like Semi Eita. In which Shirabu is intent on keeping his sexuality to himself but struggles when he has to play volleyball with a very hot and presumably very straight Semi Eita. Pining, angst, smut, and chaos ensue. ]
pairing: shirabu kenjirou x semi eita
warnings: internalized homophobia, homophobia, slurs, rough kissing, light choking, smut => mutual masturbation, handjobs, dirty talk
word count: 19.1k
___
Shirabu Kenjirou does not fall for straight guys.
He already made that mistake once in junior high, over a boy with dark eyes and dark hair that he always brushed out of his eyes when he stood up and a dimple on his left cheek. The rest of the boys in their class smelled like axe and hormones but that boy, he smelled like clover. When he stood up to sharpen his pencil, Shirabu pretended to need a tissue so that he could tilt his head a little while he passed, smell clover and catch a glimpse of his hair up close, wonder what it would feel like beneath his fingertips.
Shirabu never worked up the nerve to actually talk to him, but he wrote him a cutesy love letter that he still cringes about as he’s falling asleep, even if it was anonymous. The last line. Would you care if I’m a boy? God, puberty is weird.
And, of course, that boy did care. He ripped up the paper right on his desk before class started, right where everyone could see, and he said a word that Shirabu didn’t know yet: “Ew. I didn’t know there was a fag in our class.”
Thank God no one was in the bathroom when Shirabu stumbled into it fifteen minutes later, leaned over the sink and cried his heart out through his eyelashes. He sobbed and dug his nails into palms and looked at how red his eyes were. He wiped his face with the back of his sleeve as if it would help. He cried when he walked home, too. And while he did his homework. And after dinner. And in bed, when he buried his head into his pillow and his whole body shook.
That was the first time he wished he hadn’t been born. Well, that’s not entirely true; he just wished he hadn’t been born gay. What the hell had he done in a past life to deserve same-sex attraction? Looking a little too curiously at male models on magazine covers or running his hands along his mother’s dresses a little too happily, it was cute and normal and harmless when he was a kid. And then junior high fucking ruined everything.
He punched the air above his bed and threw God a middle finger. He didn’t care if he got electrocuted or smited or whatever else. If anything, he wished that would happen.
He knew high school wasn’t going to be any better, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t flinch internally when the slurs and mocking were heightened, at least for the kids who couldn’t hide as well as Shirabu could. All he could think about was how lucky he was that he hadn’t come out to anyone other than strangers online, and as far as he knew, no one suspected him.
While he played volleyball in middle school, his teammates are much more mature now. Okay, maybe ‘mature’ isn’t the right word, but at least they don’t compare dick sizes and talk about which girls they jack off to and make stupid noises. Tendou likes to tease them in the clubroom and gossip more than the rest of them, but he only ever has good intentions. The rest of his teammates are on the quiet-side, serious, composed, at least when they’re on the court. Shirabu fits right in. But more importantly, he doesn’t have to pretend to be straight with them, and that in itself is more than he could ever ask for.
He hasn’t come out, obviously, but girls don’t really come up with the Shiratorizawa volleyball club. Ever. Shirabu has never questioned that. He just enjoys the benefits of never having to lie about his sex life like he did with his old classmates. His very, very non-existent sex life. Aside from the whole being gay and closeted and knowing his only chance to lose his virginity is far away at university, he doesn’t…. exactly know how to deal with his teenage horniness, taunting him every fucking evening with boners over nothing... And sometimes more than nothing. But learning how to masturbate is low on his list of priorities when he’s much too focused on maintaining ridiculously perfect grades and continuing to be a regular for a powerhouse.
Instead on mornings like today, they talk about (or rather, Tendou talks about) Shonen Jump while the rest of them just listen in the clubroom before class starts. Shirabu sets his things down as he walks in, muttering a greeting and trying to stop a yawn by biting his lip. When he opens his crinkled eyes, a few sleepy tears in his eyelashes, Semi’s looking at him.
Shirabu Kenjirou does not fall for straight guys. Straight guys like Semi Eita.
“Morning, Shirabu.” Yamagata says smiling. Kind as ever.
Shirabu nods at him, sits down on the floor beside him and Kawanishi. “Good morning.”
“Kenjirou! How are you on this lovely day?” Tendou asks like Shirabu is the best thing that’s happened to him all week. On the inside, Shirabu sighs. But he clears his throat with a soft, “I’m fine, thank you.”
It’s what he says every morning, every time someone asks if he’s feeling okay because he’s used to people misinterpreting the apathy in his expression and his quiet tone for something wrong. But after he says it, Semi fucking snorts, looks down at his phone, rolls his eyes.
Shirabu goes rigid. No one else seems to notice, or at least they don’t care, but Shirabu does. He always does. He watches Semi for a moment, trying to figure out what he said that was so damn funny, that would elicit a response like that, analyzes Semi’s small smile and the brown of his eyes and… he’s staring, really staring at Semi. His dirty grey hair, the way it’s tousled and sticks up in all the right places, a bit messy since he woke up a little while ago... Shirabu wonders what he looked like when he woke up, shirtless probably, stretching and yawning and bleary-eyed, sliding out of his sheets in just black briefs (he’s always wearing tight briefs, not that Shirabu knows that, because why would Shirabu be looking at Semi’s underwear in the club room), or maybe he sleeps naked and-
Semi clears his throat.
Fuck. Shirabu didn’t even realize he was staring. And Semi noticed. He’s got that grin on his stupid face that drips silent sarcasm, pisses Shirabu off even though his mind momentarily wanders towards what kissing that grin would feel like. Fuck.
Rule #4 - Don’t stare at hot boys.
The bell rings, thank God, and Shirabu grabs his bag as quickly as he can without looking behind him. He’s the first one to class.
It was how Shirabu coped when he realized he was gay, or moreso when he realized no one can find out that he’s gay. He’s good at lists and following directions and things like that, so he made himself a set of rules to remain invisible. The first couple are the simplest and mainly deal with straight boys being off limits, the rest consisting of avoiding feminine things and saving any and all pining for his journal. But he just broke a rule. Because of Semi. Semi Eita.
He’s going to be the death of me, Shirabu thinks to himself.
* * *
Lunch arrives too quickly. Shirabu sits next to Reon and Kawanishi, across from Tendou. Semi’s not there, Shirabu notices, but he doesn’t ask why. It’s too risky after this morning (even though no one would think anything of it and he knows that). Shirabu is a chronic overthinker. It doesn’t matter, though, because Kawanishi asks for him.
“Have you seen Semi?”
Reon and Tendou exchange glances. That’s not a good sign.
“He had a meeting with his teacher.” Reon says, and Shirabu can’t detect anything false about his tone. Still, that doesn’t sound like Semi. Semi, who’s mediocre at best when it comes to his grades, Semi, who wouldn’t blow off a teacher but wouldn’t schedule a meeting during his lunch break, either. Shirabu bites inside his lip to stop his thoughts from venturing further. It doesn’t matter. Semi is straight, he reminds himself, although that’s not exactly relevant right now. Still.
Shirabu just hums, looks across the cafeteria at nothing in particular.
As the last bell rings, Shirabu gathers his things and rushes to the clubroom like he does every afternoon, always being the first to change and the first in the gym. His seniors think it’s him trying to justify his place as a regular being an underclassmen, but it’s just too avoid seeing his teammates half-naked. By teammates, he means Semi.
So when Shirabu opens the door of the clubroom confident that he’ll be alone for a few minutes as usual, his heart collapses at the sight of him. Semi. His back to the door. Shirtless. Pulling his shorts over his legs. His back muscles pushing and pulling in response to his movements, his whole body flexing as if it knows it has an audience.
A small sound like a whimper escapes Shirabu’s throat. And Semi hears it.
Shirabu wants to fucking die.
“Shirabu.” Semi turns to face him as he finishes pulling up his shorts. “Ah, right. You always get here early, don’t you.” He smirks, raises his eyebrows at the blush ravaging Shirabu’s cheeks. “Everything okay?”
But Shirabu’s experienced at regaining his composure. He keeps his gaze away from Semi’s body and walks right past him, setting his things down and wasting no time pulling his practice clothes out. The Spring Tournament is soon, he doesn’t have the capacity to focus on anything other than that. At least that’s what he tells himself.
“Why wouldn’t it be.” Shirabu says flatly.
Semi chuckles a little. “Just asking.”
Shirabu doesn’t respond.
“You know,” Semi says after Shirabu finishes pulling his shirt on. “You don’t have to be so hostile all the time. With me.”
Shirabu’s throat gets a little dry at that. With me. He risks a glance at him. Semi’s passive-aggressive when he talks to Shirabu, he’s a mix of arrogance and frustration and sarcasm, not whatever this is. It’s stressful. But it’s hot, too.
“I’m not hostile.” Shirabu says.
“Uh huh. Sure.” Semi smirks. Shirabu’s not looking at him, he’s focused on changing because he doesn’t trust himself to look at Semi right now, but he feels Semi’s eyes on him.
He knows Semi isn’t over losing his status as their main setter, and worse, replaced by an underclassman. They both know that. Maybe from the outside, that would explain the cold sarcasm and forced advice and frustration between the two of them. But Shirabu knows that’s not it. And it’s his fault, too. His fault for seeing Semi on the first day of his first year, met his caramel eyes with his chocolate, felt chills up his spine and into his chest and his dick, bit his tongue when he found out Semi had a girlfriend a week later, decided the best way to cope with the hot straight boy on the volleyball team was distance; both physical and emotional distance. Shirabu was already good at that. Plus, heated competition over the setter position was an easy excuse.
But more than a year later, a year of ignoring him and giving backhanded remarks and pushing Semi far enough away that sometimes Shirabu hated him, Shirabu still gets stupid butterflies over him. Ugh.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Semi asks.
Fuck.
“What?” Shirabu says. He hates it when people say that. Can I ask you something? It’s not good for his overthinking.
“Why are you always the first one in the gym?”
Shirabu keeps his eyes down as he ties his shoes.
“I like being early.”
“Really.” Semi says. “Why?”
“Do I need a reason for that?”
“Are you insecure or something?” Semi asks.
Shirabu looks up at him. He’s sitting on the bench with his legs spread in the most obnoxious way, his arms crossed across his chest, a challenge on his lips but something softer in his eyes. Shirabu doesn’t like it. He feels a little bit too gay.
“I don’t have any reason to be insecure.”
Semi hums.
“Whatever you say.” He says.
Shirabu puts a hand on his hips. “What does that mean?”
He really doesn’t like how Semi shrugs, stretches his neck and lets his head fall back so that the soft skin of his throat’s exposed and rolls with a yawn. Shirabu can’t count the number of fantasies he’s had about Semi’s neck.
“I don’t know, what does it mean?” Semi stands up. Does he ever lose that stupid (and hot) smirk? “Now, hurry up. You have a lot you need to work on.” And with that, he ruins the moment he didn’t know Shirabu was having.
Shirabu doesn’t say anything. He just swallows and walks past Semi out of the clubroom just as Tendou and Ushijima walk through.
Practice is long and sweaty and annoying, annoying because of Semi (like it always is) and his incessant need to give Shirabu advice he already knows and reminders he doesn’t need, either because he thinks Shirabu needs to hear it or more likely just to feel like he’s doing something useful. He genuinely means well, though, and Shirabu hates that he knows that.
Rule #18 - Avoid empathizing with hot straight boys.
Shirabu gathers his things quickly after practice ends and bows his head as he leaves, passing the third-years gathering to get pork buns together like they usually do on Fridays. Semi waves at him. Shirabu ignores it.
He doesn’t let himself think about Semi on the walk home, as he grabs a snack to bring up to his bedroom, organizes his homework by priority on his desk. He doesn’t think about Semi for three hours until his phone vibrates. It’s the Shiratorizawa group chat, which he usually ignores, especially while he’s doing homework, but the notification says it’s a message from Semi.
9:18 PM
Semi: hey guys
Tendou: semi semi °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°
Goshiki: Hi Semi-san!
Reon: What’s up?
Yamagata: Hey (ᵔ.ᵔ)
Shirabu narrows his eyes. He can’t remember the last time Semi texted the groupchat out of nowhere like this, if ever.
Semi: so, i just wanted to talk to you guys about something
Shirabu stops breathing.
Semi: im bisexual. sorry if this is weird to say over text, but i wanted to tell you all at the same time
He stares at the screen. Those characters, those little black characters burned onto his retina. I’m bisexual. Semi. Semi… isn’t straight.
For a long moment, Shirabu reads and rereads that sentence, surprised at how angry he is at Semi. He’s furious. Doesn’t Semi know? Doesn’t he know what happens to queer boys who come out? He’ll be ridiculed, yelled at, harassed, kicked off the volleyball team, hurt, worse… Shirabu bites his tongue so hard he tastes blood. His hands shake as he grips his phone, waiting for three bubbles from anyone. They’re silent. For a long moment, their teammates are silent. Shirabu’s heart teases his throat as he panics, trying to decide what he should do, if he should respond or yell at their teammates or text Semi separately or-
Tendou: semi semi !!! i’m so proud of you !!! ＼(≧▽≦)／
Reon: I’m glad you finally came out to everyone, Semi. You already know that I support you completely (*^‿^*)
Yamagata: You’re a great guy and who you love doesn’t change that
Goshiki: Thanks for telling us Semi-san! (◕‿◕)♡ You’re a very talented senpai!! Nothing will change that!!
Tendou: i agree with tsutomu (´,,•ω•,,)♡
Kawanishi: Thanks for telling us, Semi-san
Ushijima: I am glad that you are on our team, Eita.
Tendou: wakatoshi-kuuuun (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ
This… This is not what Shirabu expected. He blinks, feeling blind and dizzy all at once because he was wrong and Shirabu Kenjirou is rarely wrong, especially when it comes to things like this. Semi isn’t straight. And their teammates are fine with it. They’re supportive. Semi isn’t straight.
As all sorts of emotions bubble up in Shirabu’s chest, he shoves his phone in his pocket and almost trips down the stairs, shouts something about needing to visit a friend to work on a project even though it’s almost 10 and he doubts his parents will believe him, stumbles into his shoes. And then he’s running.
He’s only been to Semi’s house once (he had left his bag in the clubroom after practice) but his feet, his muscles remember how to get there. It takes him eight minutes. Before he can even think about what’s gotten into him, he’s knocking on Semi’s front door with pink cheeks.
Semi answers it after the seventh knock.
This was a bad idea.
“Shirabu? What the hell are you doing here?”
Semi rubs his eyes, adjusting to his dark doorstep where Shirabu stands in nothing but a white sweatshirt and black sweatpants. He’s shirtless and wearing black sweatpants, too, and it doesn’t matter that Shirabu’s seen Semi shirtless a thousand times before because he’s never seen him like this. Shadows around his eyes, hair tousled just like Shirabu imagined, something sleepy in his flexing muscles. Shirabu swallows. It suddenly occurs to him that he really doesn’t know why he’s here.
“I…” Shirabu starts. “You’re bisexual.”
Semi just looks at him.
“Yeah. I am.”
“I didn’t know that.” Shirabu says.
“...Okay. Do you wanna come in?”
“What about your parents?”
“My mom’s visiting family.” Semi says. “If she was here, she’d be pissed, though. You couldn’t have knocked quieter?”
Shirabu blushes furiously and mutters “sorry,” but he steps inside. As they enter Semi’s bedroom, he plops down onto his bed, stretching and letting his legs fall open. Shirabu’s throat gets all tight when he notices that Semi… isn’t wearing anything underneath his pants.
“You can sit down, you know.” Semi tells him, motioning to his bed. Shirabu sits on the edge and keeps his eyes trained on the wall, far away from Semi’s abs and his muscles and dick. “So… Did you come here to get confirmation or something?”
“N-No. I just… I didn’t know you weren’t straight.”
Semi snorts. “Well, yeah. The only people I told before were Tendou and Reon.”
“They knew? For how long?”
“Uh, I think I told them about a year ago..? Why does it matter?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Shirabu stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “I was just curious.”
“You must be really curious if you came all the way to my house to ask that.”
Shirabu looks down at his lap. “That’s not why I’m here.”
“Obviously.”
Semi pulls himself up so that he’s sitting beside Shirabu with his legs crossed, leans in so that their faces are only a few inches apart. Shirabu doesn’t dare to look up.
“Do you have a problem with me liking guys? Is that it?”
“N-No. Of course not.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Then why are you here, Shirabu?”
Shirabu looks up at him. They’re so close that he can see specks of gold in Semi’s irises, see a freckle beside his nose that he never noticed. Semi smells like lavender.
He’s frustrated. That’s why he’s here. He’s frustrated that Semi fucking Eita isn’t straight.
“What if the team didn’t accept you? What would you have done?” There’s a cold edge to his tone. “What if they called you a fag or said shitty things about you, what if you weren’t allowed to play volleyball anymore? What would we do without you?” That last part wasn’t supposed to come out but it did anyway.
Semi narrows his eyes a little, as if he’s searching Shirabu’s face for something that might contradict what he just said. But Shirabu just blushes again, bites the inside of his cheek because his body doesn’t know what to do with Semi looking at him like this. Semi clears his throat and leans back on his hands.
“First of all, I don’t give a fuck if people call me a fag or whatever other slur applies. That’s bound to happen, but I knew the team wouldn’t do that. If you hadn’t noticed, all of them are gay as hell, too.” He grins, rolling his eyes. “But what I wanna know is why you of all people would care if I got kicked off the team, though. It would just be less competition.” He jokes.
Shirabu’s brain short-circuits as he struggles to process Semi’s words. The team… Their teammates… Gay as hell? What is Semi talking about?
“I- Of course I would care about that. The team needs you.” Shirabu manages to say coherently. “But… What do you mean our teammates… they’re...”
Semi laughs. “Gay? Duh. Have you seen Wakatoshi even look at a girl? Ever? He and Tendou have been a thing since our first year. I mean, they haven’t told anyone obviously, and only the third-years know. And I can tell just by looking at Goshiki. There’s not a straight bone in his body. Reon’s just gay and I think Yamagata told me that he’s pan.” He shrugs, seemingly unaware that he’s ripping Shirabu’s reality up into little pieces and lighting said pieces on fucking fire. Shirabu just stares at him with a crinkled forehead and parted lips and scrunched brows, like Semi is speaking English rather than Japanese and Shirabu’s hanging onto the conversation by a thread.
“Is it really that surprising to you?” Semi says after he notices how screwed up Shirabu’s expression has become. “You sure you don’t have a problem with queer people or something?”
“I-I’m sure. I just- I didn’t… I didn’t know. I had no idea.” Shirabu stutters.
Semi crosses his arms. “I know something that Shirabu Kenjirou doesn’t? That’s a first.”
Shirabu scoffs, ignoring the little chill that shoots down his spine at his given name on Semi’s tongue.
They’re quiet for a minute, but then Semi asks, “So what about you?”
Shirabu has imagined this moment before. He’s imagined Semi pointing a finger at him, resentment in his cheeks as he asks Shirabu if he’s gay. Never had his imagination conjured up a scenario in which Semi came out, told him that Shiratorizawa’s volleyball club is basically the GSA, and then casually asked Shirabu his preference. In his late-night hypotheticals, Shirabu usually didn’t have a choice but to tell him. But this is so much different than that. Semi’s usually aggressive, dominant, persistent about these sorts of things. Yet right now, Shirabu can’t find a single expectation behind his words.
Shirabu opens his mouth to say something, he doesn’t know what something is yet, but it doesn’t matter because he’s crying. And not just crying, sobbing. Sobs that explode out of his heart and rack his chest and shoulders, that make his arms shake as he buries his face into the hot palms of his hands. His tears feel so hot and wet on his skin and he hates it. He hates crying in front of anyone, especially when it’s Semi.
But then he feels arms wrapping around his shoulders and the feeling of being pulled close to someone’s chest. Shirabu feels weak, like he couldn’t resist if he wanted to, but that’s strangely okay. He usually cries alone. It’s nice to be held as emotions take over his body. It’s really nice. Semi tucks Shirabu’s head beneath his chin, rubbing his hand into Shirabu’s back with one hand and letting the other run through Shirabu’s hair in a slow, gentle way. A voice in the back of Shirabu’s mind is panicking, screaming that he should be at least somewhat more flustered being held by the boy he’s had a crush on for more than a year, a ridiculously hot boy who happens to be bisexual. All Shirabu can do is cry.
“I know,” Semi whispers. “I know, Kenjirou.”
They stay like that for God knows how long. Long enough for Shirabu to stop shaking and eventually stop crying all together, feeling nothing but drained. He doesn’t want to think about how he looks right now. Probably all pink with blotchy eyelids and flushed cheeks. Even after his body calms down, though, Semi doesn’t let him go. He keeps his arms snug where they are, refusing to stop playing with Shirabu’s hair. If anything, he holds him tighter. And Shirabu never wants him to stop.
“Semi.” Shirabu whispers into his chest. “I’m gay.”
“That’s your first time saying it outloud, isn’t it.” Semi says gently. Knowing.
Shirabu nods. “Yeah. It is.”
“Hey,” Semi pulls back a little so that he can see Shirabu, his arms still around him. “I’m proud of you. I wish someone had said that to me. I also wish someone had told me that being queer fucking sucks, but it’s so worth it.”
“Yeah, right.” Shirabu says with a little more acid than he intended.
“I’m serious.”
Semi brushes Shirabu’s bangs aside. All of sudden Shirabu’s feeling too hot, Semi’s hands on his skin feeling like a thousand pounds as his emotional high wears off and the realization that this is really fucking happening sets in. It’s too much. It’s all way too much. But he can’t find it in himself to move away, not when he’s dreamed about being in Semi’s arms for so long. Even if it’s for the wrong reasons.
“Fuck, I want to kiss you.” Semi breathes.
Or the right reasons.
Shirabu’s eyes widen. He didn’t hear that right, Semi didn’t really just say that. But… he did. Semi Eita isn’t straight and he wants to kiss Shirabu.. Even if Semi hadn’t said it, the way his eyes are a lot darker than they were just a moment ago, the way they devour Shirabu’s face and linger at his lips, they give him away. A sound like a whimper leaves Shirabu’s throat.
“Do it.” Shirabu blurts. “Kiss me.”
Semi doesn’t hesitate. Shirabu hates how cold he feels as Semi unwraps his arms from around him, but then there are warm fingertips against his jaw, tilting his head up just slightly. He runs his thumb along Shirabu’s bottom lip and smirks when Shirabu sighs at the feelings. It seems like an eternity before Semi leans into Shirabu and presses soft lips against soft lips. He’s gentle at first, letting Shirabu get used to the feeling of their mouths moving together.
It’s better than anything Shirabu has ever fantasized.
He moans into Semi’s mouth when he feels something wet, Semi’s tongue feathering across his bottom lip.
“I never thought you would be so vocal.” Semi smiles into the kiss.
Shirabu doesn’t have time to react, to even try to calm his shrieking heartbeat before Semi moves one hand to the back of Shirabu’s head, yanking his hair, and the other to his throat. Shirabu gasps. Semi applies just enough pressure that Shirabu can still breathe, but enough that he couldn’t move out of his grip if he wanted to. Electricity erupts from where Semi’s fingertips touch his throat all the way down to Shirabu’s dick, eliciting the breathy, high-pitched whine that Semi was aiming for.
“Yeah? You like it when I choke you?”
Shirabu can only moan in response. It’s all happening so fast.
“I thought so.”
He’s not gentle anymore as he yanks Shirabu back into his kiss, forcing his tongue into Shirabu’s mouth. Shirabu resists at first, purely because he doesn’t understand what Semi’s trying to do, but a sharp squeeze to Shirabu’s throat makes his lips part with a moan. Semi drags his tongue everywhere he can reach inside Shirabu, along his teeth and tongue and the sides of his mouth. Semi tastes like cherries. Somewhere during the kissing and moaning and desperation, Semi manages to rearrange the two of them so that Shirabu’s on his back. Semi straddles him, keeping one hand locked in his hair and the other around his throat, still digging his tongue deeper into Shirabu’s mouth. He only drops his hands to grab Shirabu’s arms and pin them on either side of Shirabu’s head, and he drags his fingertips along the tender skin of his forearms until Shirabu’s arching his back, whining so fucking loudly for Semi.
Semi only pulls out of the kiss when Shirabu pushes against his chest in protest. They’re both out of breath, panting as they stare at one another. Semi drags the back of his hand across his mouth and stretches his neck a little; Shirabu’s not even embarrassed when he whimpers at that.
“Semi,” Shirabu finally says after catching his breath. “We should talk. First.”
“About what?”
“This. About this.”
“We made out. And you saw a little bit of my kinky side. What else is there to talk about?”
Shirabu could kill him. Even after all that, Semi still finds a way to piss Shirabu off. He squirms beneath Semi until he slides out from under him and sits up with his knees pressed against his chest. He realizes he’s not touching Semi anymore, though, so he scoots close enough to him that their legs touch. It’s embarrassing, but he grabs Semi’s hand, too.
“Is this the part where you tell me that you’re in love with me?” Semi says.
Shirabu goes rigid for the millionth time that night, his cheeks turning a ridiculous shade of crimson. As if he should be surprised anymore.
“H-How did…”
Semi smiles his stupid smile, but he’s gentle as he rubs his thumb along Shirabu’s hand. “At first, I genuinely thought you hated me. But it was almost too over-the-top, if that makes sense. It sort of clicked when I realized you couldn’t make eye contact with me in the clubroom. And I mean, stuff like today when you were so obviously avoiding looking at me. That’s why you come so early to practice, right? And this morning when you were staring at me without realizing you were staring.” Shirabu cringes at that, but Semi laughs softly. “No, no, it was cute. It’s cute. You’re cute, Kenjirou.” He tilts Shirabu’s head up to look at him. They’re both blushing now.
“I really thought you were straight.” Shirabu says. “That’s why… That’s why I never planned on telling you. I never planned on coming out whatsoever. I’m glad I did, though. I’m glad you did.”
Shirabu presses his lips together. The words he’s played with in bed at night, while watching Semi smile from across the gym, scribbling in his journal, they’re perched on the edge of his tongue. Fuck it.
“I like you, Semi. I really do like you.”
And the words he never expected to hear from Semi’s lips.
“I like you, too.”
“...For how long?”
“Sometime last year. I always got the feeling you were still figuring yourself out, though, so I never wanted to pressure you. But I figured you were gay. You didn’t hide it as well as you thought clearly.”
“Clearly.”
Shirabu doesn’t know what else to say, where they go from here, but Semi knows that and leans forward, kisses Shirabu’s forehead so lightly that Shirabu feels his heart shatter in his chest. He feels…
“I think this means you’re my boyfriend now. If you want.” Semi says against his forehead.
“Yes.” Shirabu breathes. “Please.”
Semi shifts on his bed so that he’s lying down with his head on a pillow, spreading his arms with an invitation. Shirabu lies down with him and nestles against Semi’s chest. He starts to wrap his arms around Semi’s waist but hesitates, still new to this whole cuddling thing and affection thing and boyfriend thing, but Semi encourages him by pulling his arm closer. It goes without saying that Shirabu plans on staying the night. Whatever punishment or lecture his parents give him for leaving unannounced is worth it, worth it for him to fall asleep tangled with Semi’s body. Semi really does smell like lavender.
“Everything okay?” Semi mumbles as Shirabu pulls his phone out of his pocket.
“Yeah. I’m just texting my mom.”
Shirabu types out a shitty excuse and an apology, promising that he’ll be back first thing in the morning, but his mother doesn’t seem that upset when she responds. He starts to turn off his phone but stops. He opens the groupchat. It feels like Semi came out months ago even though it was only a couple hours. A couple hours for Shirabu’s entire life to change.
He spends a couple minutes deciding how to word it. Short and sweet? Long and emotional? He types out a paragraph but deletes it almost immediately. Might as well get to the point.
11:48 PM
Shirabu: I’m gay
As soon as he presses send, he snuggles closer to Semi and tries not to shiver with the amount of adrenaline unleashed in his blood. Semi mindlessly strokes his hair. And then his phone buzzes, and he gives Shirabu a little squeeze as he pulls it out of his pocket.
“I inspired you, huh.” He places a kiss on top of Shirabu’s head.
“Sort of.” Shirabu admits.
Both of their phones buzz.
11:50 PM
Tendou: KENJIROU !! ･ﾟﾟ･(／ω＼)･ﾟﾟ･.
Tendou: FVVNKUBBDG
Tendou: im so proud of you !!ヽ(>∀<☆)ノ
Reon: Congrats on coming out!
Yamagata: We support you 100% and nothing will ever change that!
Ushijima: I’m glad you told us, Kenjirou.
Goshiki: That’s great, Shirabu-san!!! I’m happy you told all of us!!! o( ❛ᴗ❛ )o
Tendou: is this a good time to tell u guys im gay too ( : ౦ ‸ ౦ : )
Ushijima: We already know that you are gay, Tendou.
Tendou: wakatoshi-kuUUN ( ╥ω╥ )
Shirabu doesn’t realize he’s got a goofy smile on his face until Semi tickles his nose.
“Feel better?”
Shirabu puts his phone down.
“Yes. Definitely better.”
Better isn’t the right word for how he’s feeling. There’s not a word for the feeling of this much weight lifted from Shirabu’s shoulders, like he can breathe for the first time, like he’s had his eyes closed for a hundred years and the first thing he sees when he opens them is a sunrise, like he’s wrapped up in Semi’s arms with lavender in his nose. There’s not a word for this feeling and that’s okay.
___
This is pointless. Shirabu tells himself that it’s pointless, that there’s no good reason as to why he’s walking to Semi’s house on Monday morning before school, and yet his body won’t listen. It takes him longer to get there than it did on Friday night (it feels so much longer than just two days ago) but that’s because he’s walking rather than sprinting.
When he turns onto Semi’s street, he stops. This is so stupid. Why is he here? But as soon as he spins back around, scolds himself, starts heading towards Shiratorizawa, he hears footsteps.
“Kenjirou?” Semi calls out.
Sparks.
Shirabu doesn’t turn to face him, but he stops moving at least. It’s too early in the morning for Shirabu’s cheeks to turn pink with a blush, yet here he is. Semi has too much power over him. Semi Eita. Shirabu grinds his teeth together.
It takes Semi a minute to catch up to him. He readjusts his bag as he steps in front of Shirabu, Shirabu who’s still red and staring at the pavement. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to run some errands before school.” Shirabu mutters. They both know it’s a lie.
“Yeah, uh huh, sure.” Shirabu can imagine Semi rolling his eyes right about now. “It’s definitely not because you wanted to walk with your new boyfriend to school, right?”
New boyfriend. Shirabu’s breath catches in his throat at those words. In a good way. In an insanely good way even though the word itself is terrifying and Shirabu can’t tell if the buzzing in his chest is from excitement or fear or butterflies when he hears it in Semi’s voice, or probably all of the above.
Boyfriend was always a forbidden word for Shirabu, right alongside the words gay and queer and he’s hot... But that’s changed since Friday. At least, it’s starting to change. All because of Semi. Shirabu finally looks up at him.
Of course that was a bad idea.
Semi Eita in the morning is notoriously a bad idea for Shirabu. He doesn’t understand how a boy can look like this so soon after rolling out of bed, after spending three minutes running fingers through his hair rather than a comb, splashing a bit of water on his face and applying a generous amount of deodorant from years of locker-room experience. Semi’s the kind of a boy who was blessed with natural beauty. It shows in his eyes, the color of chocolate beneath long, dark eyelashes that other people can only try to emulate with copious amounts of mascara. It shows on his skin, the same consistency as clouds and morning dew even though he forgets to moisturize sometimes.
Shirabu’s mainly mesmerized by Semi’s hair more than anything, though, which is why mornings are so difficult when sleep leaves his grey hair all tousled and messed up in the prettiest way. He wonders if he could make Semi’s hair look like that with his own hands…
“Kenjirou,” Semi smirks. “You’re staring again.”
Shirabu’s eyes get all wide as his thoughts abruptly trip over themselves. Fuck. He starts to deny it, starts to say that he was looking at something over Semi’s shoulder and not how gorgeous his hair looks, his eyes look, but Semi would know it’s a lie. He’s always been able to tell when Shirabu’s lying.
Rule #4, rule #4, rule #4, Shirabu’s mind starts chanting that stupid rule that he’s ingrained in himself, a sin he made up himself that keeps tempting him even though he’s God and it should be so easy to-
“You’re allowed to stare, you know.” Semi’s voice is so gentle that it startles him.
“W-What?”
Semi takes Shirabu’s hand and holds onto it when Shirabu flinches and instinctively pulls away, checking to make sure there’s no one who could see two boys holding hands on the street. But Semi just brings Shirabu closer.
“Semi, we c-can’t-”
“Kenjirou.” Semi says. “Stop thinking so hard.” He brushes his fingers through Shirabu’s bangs with his free hand. Shirabu’s body screams in protest, every nerve and muscle of his on edge as he breaks rules he hasn’t made yet, rules like don’t hold a boy’s hand in public and don’t let a boy play with your hair in broad daylight.
“You have no idea how much I’ve thought about doing this.” He breathes.
“Doing what?” Shirabu asks, struggling to hold himself together with the way Semi’s eyes are melting into his. Rather than saying what he means, Semi starts to lean even closer to Shirabu, clearing a place on Shirabu’s forehead for him to rest his lips against, but something snaps inside of Shirabu. It’s too much. It’s too fucking much.
His body moves on its own accord as Shirabu abruptly shoves Semi back, away from him with an unnecessary amount of force that he didn’t intend but doesn’t regret. It’s too much. Even still, Semi’s core is strong and it takes more than Shirabu’s dainty arms to move him that much. He stumbles back a few steps, though, giving Shirabu space he didn’t know he needed. Too fucking much.
“Stop.” Shirabu’s voice breaks. It’s all he can manage to say.
“Shirabu?” Semi reverts to his family name and it feels like a rusted knife in Shirabu’s chest. “What’s wrong?”
“This is… too much. Semi.”
“What’s too much?”
Shirabu hates crying in the morning.
“Because we’re gay.”
Semi crosses his arms. Semi always crosses his arms. “And?”
What part of this doesn’t he understand? They’re gay. They’re boys. They’re fucking dating. Isn’t this self-explanatory? Shirabu scrunches his hands into fists and pinches his nails into his palms, raising them to his temples like he does when he feels like he’ll explode with words he can’t bother to say aloud, a habit of his that Semi doesn’t know about. That no one knows about.
Semi tries to place gentle hands over Shirabu’s fists, but Shirabu jerks away, spilling a few inconvenient tears onto his school uniform.
“Talk to me, Shirabu.”
“We’re in public. We- We can’t do this here. Someone could see-”
“The street is empty. It’s 8 in the morning on a Monday. No one is going to see anything. And even if they do, who the fuck cares?”
“I fucking care.” Shirabu snaps. He doesn’t raise his voice, he never raises his voice, but his flat tone shakes with panic. “We… This is too much. We just started dating. I’ve liked you for years, but- but I didn’t know you weren’t straight until a couple days ago. It’s just- I’m- We’re in public…”
“Shirabu.” Semi says. He doesn’t try to get any closer, instead lifting his hands up in the same way someone approaching a wounded animal might. “I get it. I really do.”
“Clearly you fucking don’t.” Shirabu spits out.
Semi ignores him.
“We started dating two days ago, yeah. Obviously there’s still a lot about you that I don’t really understand yet. And I don’t know what happened to you in the past, but I’m assuming there were some really shitty things. I’m right about that, aren’t I?”
Shirabu rubs his eyes with his sleeves. He hopes they’ll be dry by the time he gets to school.
“I’m sorry I was so touchy this morning. I was- I’m excited. Because.... I’ve, you know, I’ve liked you for so long. Ugh, God, I must sound so cringy right now. But regardless, I should’ve checked in with you first and I let myself get carried away, and I understand why that would make you anxious, Kenjirou.” Yes, say my name again. “I just… I promise you that absolutely no one is going to lay a finger on you as long as I’m around. I won’t let anyone say any homophobic shit to you. I’ll fucking curbstomp anyone who hurts you, Kenjirou,” Again. “Or anyone who makes you uncomfortable or treats you less than you deserve, and you deserve the fucking world. Okay?”
Shirabu can’t remember a time when Semi’s blushed like this, all pink with crinkled eyes and forehead wrinkles. He’s vulnerable like this. Vulnerable yet somehow still badass, and Shirabu fucking adores him for it, as hard as it is for him to admit that to himself.
“You don’t have to do that.” Shirabu says through his sleeve.
Semi takes a hesitant step closer to him. This time, Shirabu doesn’t move away.
“I want to.” Semi takes another step. “I know this is all new for you. We’ll go at your pace from now on. We won’t do anything that you don’t feel comfortable with. I’ve been waiting for you for so long… I don’t mind waiting a bit longer.”
Semi eyes are honest. Anyone could watch how Semi’s looking at Shirabu and see the pure adoration behind his words, in his eyes. It makes Shirabu blush. No one’s looked at him like this before. With a promise.
“You’re much better at this than I am.” Shirabu says. He exhales a sigh through his nose and wipes any remaining moisture from his cheeks, praying that his eyes aren’t too puffy. He usually cries for much longer than he just did. But then again, he doesn’t usually have Semi there to say the right things. Semi really does say the right things.
“I do have a bit more experience than you do. A couple boys and a girl once, but never anything serious. Probably because of that damn second-year on my volleyball team with his stupid perfect hair and stupid perfect lips who I could never stop thinking about.” Semi jokes.
For the first time this morning, a smile finds Shirabu’s lips.
“Come on, we should get going. You ready?” Semi slips a hand into his pocket, still maintaining a respectful few feet away from him.
Shirabu nods, and Semi leads the way. Eventually, Shirabu works up the nerve to close the distance between them. They still just look like school friends walking together, but now they’re walking side-by-side. He’s not ready to hold hands, not yet, but he gets close enough to Semi that their shoulders are touching the whole way, close enough that Semi grins so widely he looks like an idiot.
Tendou lets out a ridiculous gasp as the two of them walk into the clubroom together. It occurs to Shirabu that they’ve never walked into the clubroom together, let alone stood close enough to each other that their shoulders touch. Shirabu starts to feel another wave of guilt, shame, stress, all sorts of emotions he’s painfully used to even though they don’t have names, but one sideways glance from Semi has him grounded. A glance that says just let me handle this and we’ll take our time, don’t worry about a thing.
“Oh? Is this a new friendship I see?” Tendou asks.
Semi shrugs and heads to the usual spot where he sets his things down. “Coincidentally entering the clubroom at the same time doesn’t mean anything, Satori.”
Shirabu follows his lead, keeping his head down and lips tight as he sits down beside Yamagata like he does every morning. It’s hard to keep his eyes from wandering to Semi, though, because something about Semi lying about them is unreasonably hot.
After the weekend they had, a night of cuddling and sweet somethings, a Saturday night of facetiming until 2 in the morning, texting all day Sunday, it’s easy for Shirabu to forget that their teammates think they hate each other. To think they had been secretly pining over each other this whole time… He almost wants Semi to out them just to see the team’s reaction. But Semi won’t do anything without Shirabu’s approval. Shirabu fights off a smile.
And then Ushijima walks in, all sweaty from his morning jog. He looks at Shirabu. He looks at Semi.
“I’m glad you two are finally dating.” He says.
Shirabu feels his heart lurch.
___
10:40 AM
Private Message to: Semi
Shirabu: Meet me in the bathroom. Now.
His teacher taps her finger against the blackboard and Shirabu jerks his head up in a fleeting moment of panic, although she was only pointing to an English word that they’re learning. She hasn’t noticed Shirabu’s phone balanced on his knees under the desk. Yet.
This would be the first time Shirabu has ever used his phone in class, violating an unhealthy portion of his moral code stemming from Rule #31 (being a perfect student will help compensate for being gay). But this would also be the first time he and Semi got outed to the Shiratorizawa volleyball team.
God must have been feeling rather sadistic this morning because after Ushijima had essentially outed the two of them, the bell had rung. The bell. Semi had to walk Shirabu to class, he was such an internal mess, although Semi had assured him that their teammates had been apathetic about the whole thing. Yeah, right. That was all he had time to say, all the time they had to digest and process and talk about the fucking bomb Ushijima dropped in the clubroom.
Shirabu’s eyes dart to the three moving bubbles on his screen. Of course Semi would have no qualms checking his phone in class.
Semi: i thought you didn’t text during class
Shirabu: I never do
Semi: i’ll be there in 3 mins ;)
Shirabu stands up so abruptly his desk makes an atrocious sound sliding across the linoleum. His teacher stops speaking mid-sentence, cocking an eyebrow but letting him dismiss himself to the bathroom. God, this is embarrassing. He digs his palm into his forehead and keeps his eyes down the whole way down the hall.
The boys’ bathroom is empty when he gets there and he veers to the sink to splash water on his burning face, stained with a blush that hasn’t left his face since this morning, since Ushijima… He reminds himself to breathe.
“Kenjirou?” Semi calls out gently. Shirabu’s whole body jolts at his voice. He forgets to breathe, again, as he whips his head up from the sink. In his usual fashion, Semi’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a corner of his lips pulled up. “What’s so urgent that a star student used his phone in class?” And in his usual fashion, he pisses Shirabu off.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Shirabu says, keeping his voice much lower than it needs to be.
“Hmm… I can’t say that it is.” Semi drags his fingers through his hair in pretend confusion. Shirabu is so pissed he could kiss him.
Shirabu turns back to the sink, running his fingertips under cold water to stop himself from digging them into his palms. When he looks up, he sees Semi’s reflection behind him as Semi messes with his hair even though it’s already perfect and Shirabu doesn’t understand why he can’t see that.
Semi steps a little closer. It’s an unconscious step, innocent and meaningless, but suddenly Shirabu feels dizzy as new worries pour into his mind. If Ushijima knows, then who else does? Their classmates? Their teachers? What if his teachers tell his parents, then what? A thousand what if’s swarm Shirabu, make him nauseous and his muscles tremble, all because Semi’s standing a bit too close for comfort. Shirabu stumbles backwards and accidentally bumps into one of the stall doors, the largest stall. He lets the door fall closed behind him.
“Kenjirou.” Semi knocks against the door a few moments later. “Talk to me.”
Shirabu lets his head fall against the wall. “Ushijima…How does Ushijima know about us?”
“I don’t know. I mean, on Friday when the third-years went to get pork buns, I went ahead and came out to him before I texted the groupchat. Tendou and Reon already knew, so I told him and Yamagata. Just to prepare them I guess? It’s not like they’re straight or anything, though.” Semi says.
The stall door is unlocked, but he doesn’t try to open it out of respect for Shirabu and God, Shirabu wants to kiss him.
“Nothing about that would make him think that we’re together. Maybe… Is it because I came out so soon after you did?” Shirabu asks. “Shit.”
“...I don’t think that was it, either.”
Something about Semi’s tone doesn’t sit right with Shirabu. His voice is different, like it’s missing something... Lacking its usual confidence.
“Semi. Come in here.”
Semi cracks the door hesitantly before stepping through and shutting it (and locking it) behind him. His arms return to their usual place across his chest.
“Did you tell Ushijima?” Shirabu asks flatly. “Don’t lie to me.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Really.”
“I wouldn’t have told anyone without your permission.” Semi raises his eyebrows. “You do know that, right?”
“I do.”
Shirabu looks down at his hands. He does know that, he really does. He just...
“I did tell Ushijima that I have feelings for you. On Friday.” Semi says.
Shirabu whips his head up. “You what?”
“He was talking about you, and you were on my mind since I had just come out. So I told him. I told all of them, actually.”
He wants to be angry, Shirabu wants to be mad at Semi for telling them all that, but he bites his lip before he says anything. He’s projecting. He knows he’s projecting. There’s nothing wrong with Semi telling his close friends who he has a crush on, even if Shirabu couldn’t even imagine doing that. He takes another deep breath, deep enough this his shoulders get all tense and then drop with his exhale.
“What did you tell them?” He finally asks.
Semi smiles, a real smile and not a smirk. “I told them that you annoyed the fuck out of me when I first met you, and that your hair is too stupidly straight and beautiful, and that I thought you hated me but I didn’t care because it was fucking cute regardless. And even though I was furious when you replaced me as a regular, a part of me was okay with it because it was you. A small part of me, but still. I told them that looking at you makes me question if I’m gay rather than bi. I am really fucking gay for you, Kenjirou.”
Shirabu chews his bottom lip to resist the smile struggling to bubble out of him, but the way his eyes widen and his eyebrows slant a little give him away. He’s helpless when it comes to Semi. He thinks he always will be.
“What do we do?” He asks just above a whisper.
“I don’t think there’s anything really to do. Unless you want to talk to Ushijima about this. We can. We totally can if that will help you feel better. We can talk to the team if you want.” Semi keeps his voice steady, soft, soft enough that he could be talking about anything and it would help Shirabu relax just to hear him. “What do you want to do, Kenjirou?”
But Shirabu just scoffs to himself.
“If you had treated me like this before, I might have come out sooner.”
The crease in Semi’s forehead gives way to a laugh and Shirabu considers what would happen if he kissed him here and now once again.
“Fuck, I really should have then, huh. It’s alright. I have you now, don’t I?”
Shirabu hates how rigid his body gets when Semi says things like this, because he wants to nod and scream God, yes but all he can do is stare at him with wide eyes and parted lips that Semi could easily slip his thumb through… Why am I thinking about that?
Semi’s still leaning against the stall door, still maintaining enough distance for Shirabu to breathe, but… But… Shirabu takes a step closer to him.
“Semi…” He breathes.
“Hm?”
“I’m… gay for you, too.” Shirabu feels a little silly saying that, but a little exhilarated, too. “Really gay.”
He moves closer, brushes a bit of hair behind his ear. His senses are on edge, listening for any signs of movement in the bathroom aside from him and Semi, but he swallows his anxiety down, lets himself go missing in Semi’s eyes.
“I think… I think what I want…” Shirabu starts. “I think that if the team asks, you can tell them. That’s what I’m comfortable with.”
“Okay. Okay, we can do that, Kenjirou.”
Shirabu’s hesitant, a little uneasy, as he brings his hand to Semi’s chest. Semi drops his arms to his side but doesn’t move, he just blinks in surprise as Shirabu’s fingers rest on his uniform, over his heart. Shirabu’s pulse sounds like thunder in his ears. He moves closer, close enough to rest his forehead on Semi’s collar with a sigh. A sigh, a release, a hold me. Semi wraps his arms around Shirabu, nervously at first, until Shirabu nuzzles into him closer; Semi pulls Shirabu into his chest with a firmness that makes Shirabu forget why he ever thought this could be a bad idea in the first place. Tension he didn’t know he was holding drains out of Shirabu’s body as his shoulders slump and his jaw releases and his fingers unclench beneath Semi’s touch, his acupuncture. He lets his eyes close.
Right now, Shirabu doesn’t mind that Ushijima knows. The whole world can know for all he cares. Right now, he wants the whole world to know.
“I thought I would stop getting butterflies if we started dating.” Semi says after a few quiet moments.
“Did you?”
“I think I got more.”
* * *
As effective as Semi’s touch therapy is for Shirabu, it wears off less than an hour after they leave the bathroom. It took a lot of convincing on Semi’s part for Shirabu to let go of him (even though he was content to hold Shirabu there the entire day and “fuck class”), and now forty-five minutes later, Shirabu’s anxiety is creeping back. It’s a miracle that he makes it to lunch without breaking his pencils in half.
He avoids the cafeteria and heads straight to the grassy patch behind the volleyball gym, a place he finds himself heading to when he’s too tired or overwhelmed or overworked or simply too done to deal with anyone, and as usual, there’s no one else around. He’s not hungry so he just slumps against the brick of the wall, pulls out some homework to work on even though it’s not due for a week. Only Shirabu Kenjirou would be soothed by calculus. It’s better than letting his mind wander to thoughts of Ushijima or what he said or what he knows or what the team knows or what the whole fucking world- Shirabu flinches as his phone buzzes in his bag.
1:09 PM
Private Message from: Semi
Semi: where are you?
Oh. He should’ve known that Semi would notice.
Shirabu: I’m not hungry
Semi: i didn’t ask if you were hungry :/
Semi: you’re avoiding the team, aren’t you
Semi hesitates, lectures himself for underestimating how well Semi knows him. There’s no point in lying, but he bites his lip and isn’t in the mood to to be direct, either.
Shirabu: And what if I am?
Semi: i assumed so. i just wanted to let you know that no one’s talking about what ushijima said this morning.. but do you want me to say anything?
Shirabu: No
Semi: okay babe
Shirabu’s heart does something uncomfortable in his chest at that. Uncomfortable in the way that his blood gets all cold and then erupts in flames even though it’s just a stupid word and it shouldn’t make Shirabu feel so... feel so good. So gay.
“...Babe?” He murmurs aloud.
Pet names. He’s never thought about pet names before. Rule #28.
Semi: want me to come join you behind the gym? ^^
And of course he would know about that, too. Shirabu huffs through his nose.
Shirabu: How do you know where I am?
Semi: i practice during lunch sometimes. (you look cute when youre out there studying)
Shirabu: ...Thanks
Shirabu: ❤️
Shirabu never uses emojis. He thinks they’re tacky. Unnecessary. But he’s not sure how else to express that when he said “Thanks,” what he really meant was, “I want to kiss you so fucking bad right now and you have no idea and you have no idea how tight you make my chest feel when you say things like that.”
Semi: ❤️ ❤️
Shirabu: By the way, were you practicing on Friday?
Semi: no why?
Shirabu: You weren’t at lunch
Semi: oh yeah right
Semi: i had to finish homework
Shirabu: That’s not what Reon and Tendou told me
Semi: …
Semi: what did they tell you?
Shirabu: It doesn’t matter. Where were you?
Semi: does it matter ??
What the hell is that supposed to mean? Shirabu shoves his homework aside and brings his knees to his chest, gripping his phone with both hands now. This isn’t good for his overthinking, either.
Shirabu: Yes.
Semi: if i tell you, it wont be my fault if youre upset
Shirabu: Semi
Semi: you asked for it
Semi: i wasnt at lunch because i was jerking off to you in the bathroom
And if God didn’t torture Shirabu enough today already, the bell signaling the end of lunch reverbates across campus as soon as he reads the text.
* * *
“Hey, isn’t Shirabu usually the first one here?” Reon asks.
He and Semi and Tendou are pulling their practice shirts on when he notices, although Semi was already well aware. He expected that Shirabu would be late. That doesn’t change how disheartened he feels, though. A part of him feels responsibility for Shirabu’s anxiety, the older brother part of him.
“Well?” Tendou raises his eyebrows at Semi before bending down to start on his shoelaces. “Shouldn’t his boyfriend know where he is?”
“Ugh, shut up. And don’t talk about that around him. I think he’s still getting used to all of this, and you know how stressed he can get about things. So lay off for a while.” Semi pulls his arm over and behind his neck to stretch it a little bit. “Or else.” He adds.
Reon smirks and shakes his head slightly, but Tendou makes a shrill sound, narrows his eyes, fucking grins at Semi as if he wants Semi to pummel him right here and right fucking now in the clubroom.
“I always knew you were a top.” Tendou says.
“What the actual fuck, Satori.” Semi sighs and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, although he’s tempted to reply, Isn’t it obvious?
“So, you two are official?” Reon asks. “I can’t believe Wakatoshi was right.”
Semi shrugs. “He was purely guessing. That guy’s more receptive than he looks.”
“Obviously! Sigh. I’m sick and tired of people underestimating my Wakatoshi-kun. He’s quiet because he’s reading people, you know.”
Reon chuckles and Semi does, too.
“That’s so gay.” Semi says.
Reon sighs. “Tell me about it. Tendou assaults me with texts about ‘his Wakatoshi-kun’ at least once a day.”
“And is Ushijima aware of how horny you are, Satori?”
“Don’t get me started on Wakatoshi-kun’s d-” Tendou starts to sing-song, but Reon and Semi’s simultaneous groans interrupt him.
“I am worried about Shirabu, though. I hope he doesn’t skip practice.” Semi says after a few moments. But when he looks up from adjusting the waistband of his shorts, Reon and Tendou are suspiciously quiet all of a sudden. It takes him a moment to realize why, following their gaze somewhere behind him, by the clubroom door, standing with cheeks so blood red he looks like he could burst into tears. Shirabu.
Before Semi can say anything, or do anything really, Shirabu’s yanking him by the wrist out of the clubroom, down the hall, to the grassy side of the gym where vents jut out of the building. It’s shady here, secluded by the fact that no one would want to be on this side of the gym for whatever reason. They’re as alone as they can be.
“K-Kenjirou?” Semi manages to say.
His mind races to remember if he could’ve done something or said something wrong, or maybe Shirabu overhead them in the clubroom and he changed his mind about their teammates knowing. Shirabu ignores him. He keeps his eyes down and paces away from Semi, clearly mulling over something. Semi’s seen him like this before.
Semi sighs, crossing his arms and preparing to give Shirabu the time he needs to gather his thoughts. But he doesn’t have to wait long until Shirabu abruptly leans against the building, throws his arms up on either side of his head, and angles his neck.
“Just fucking kiss me, Semi.”
Shirabu glares up at Semi beneath his ridiculously gorgeous bangs, as if he’s daring him to do what he asked. And with his chest already rising and falling rapidly, lips parted and glistening, arms pinned to the wall right where Semi can see them, right where Semi’s imagined them before in fantasies Shirabu would slap him over, Semi can’t resist.
He’s gentle but deliberate as he approaches Shirabu, hitching his leg up between Shirabu’s thighs and gliding teasing fingers up Shirabu’s arms until he finds his wrists. He lets out a gentle laugh as Shirabu arches his back and moans a little at such simple touches.
Oh, this is nothing compared to what I want to do to you, Semi thinks.
He finally brings their lips together and is surprised by how urgent Shirabu’s mouth moves against his. It’s nothing like the docile Shirabu he made out with on Friday. Semi loves this. He kisses Shirabu harder, relishing in the constant stream of gasps and whines pouring from Shirabu’s throat.
Good, yeah, just like that. Semi thinks. Keep whining for me.
They kiss against the wall for long enough that Semi starts to worry about pissing the coach off, but not long enough that he huffs when Shirabu pulls away.
“Are you gonna explain where the hell that came from?” Semi tries to catch his breath.
“Your text.” Shirabu breathes. “You jerked off at school. While thinking about me.”
Semi doesn’t get why that would instigate a sporadic make-out session before practice. “Yeah. And?”
Shirabu scoffs like Semi’s a fucking idiot for being so oblivious. Maybe he is.
“That’s…” Shirabu’s voice softens. He’s embarrassed. “That’s hot.”
Semi blanks for a minute. He most definitely was not expecting Shirabu to say that, but as soon as he does, Semi starts attacking Shirabu’s neck with kisses.
“S-Stop! ....I knew I shouldn’t have said that.” Shirabu glares at Semi as he pulls away (only because he’s worried about leaving marks before practice), but there’s a glint of a smile in Shirabu’s eyes. “It’s stupid, too. I’m assuming you know that already.”
“It’s not my fault you were staring at me that morning.” Semi raises his eyebrows.
“Staring?”
“In the clubroom before class. You were staring at me, my hair and my lips, like you do sometimes, except you usually don’t look so fucking… I guess innocent is the word I’m looking for. You clearly liked what you saw and I wanted to fuck your mouth right there-” Semi cuts himself off as he realizes what he’s saying. Shirabu looks mortified.
“Shit, was that- is that too much? I’m sorry, I never want to make you uncomf-”
“No.” Shirabu interrupts him. “I like it when you say things like that.” He edges a finger towards Semi’s hand, rests it there until Semi takes the hint and intertwines their fingers. “Say things like that more. Please.”
“I can definitely do that, babe.”
The look on Shirabu’s face when he says that is priceless. His eyes almost sparkle with how wide and bright they get, and his eyebrows slant just enough for Semi to notice, similar to how Shirabu might look on the morning of his birthday. He wants to remember this Shirabu. No, he wants to keep being the reason for this Shirabu.
You like pet names, don’t you. I’ll remember that. Semi makes a mental note.
“You just go get changed.” Semi says as they’re walking back up to the clubroom a few minutes later. “I’ll handle the coach. Don’t worry about it, okay?”
“What will you tell him?” Shirabu asks.
They stopped holding hands as soon as they started heading back, but Shirabu’s fingers keep bumping into Semi’s. It doesn’t seem accidental.
“I don’t know yet. I’ll make up some excuse about teachers needing to talk to us or something, but if that doesn’t work, I’ll take the punishment for the both of us.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Why not? I’m happy to.”
“Why?”
“I like taking care of you, if you haven't noticed.”
Shirabu blushes but shakes his head. “But this is unnecessary.”
“Nothing is unnecessary if it means helping you.” Semi stops outside the clubroom. “You’re gonna have to get that through your head fast if you want to date me, Kenjirou.”
Semi thinks Shirabu might kiss him for a moment, with the way he’s looking up at him, but he just nods and ducks into the clubroom. He considers following after him to watch Shirabu change until the sound of a whistle reminds him of his most pressing concern. Coach. He’ll wait to embarrass Shirabu another time.
Practice.
It drags and makes them all sweat and reconsider if volleyball is really that important, like it does every fucking day, but that’s sort of the reason they all love it to death, too. Semi scrapes by with cleaning duties for the next two weeks (he took full responsibility for Shirabu and the coach didn’t seem to care either way, fortunately). Maybe that’s why practice feels longer than normal today; he fucking hates cleaning... Unless it’s for Shirabu.
“Is Semi treating you right?” Semi overhears Yamagata asking Shirabu as they pack up a few sweaty hours later. From the corner of his eye, Semi watches Shirabu flinch, blush, and blink all at the same time. He nods weakly.
With Tendou around, gossip spreads around the Shiratorizawa volleyball team like wildfire.
It’s not until they’re in the clubroom again changing, showering, putting clothes away, that Ushijima’s voice cuts through quiet chatter. “Eita. Shirabu.”
Semi’s first instinct is locking eyes with Shirabu. He looks a bit stressed, but it’s nothing he hasn’t been preparing for all day. Both of them meet him by the door of the clubroom.
“Oh? What’s this?” Tendou says, draping his arms over Ushijima’s shoulders as he joins them.
“I wanted to apologize for making an assumption like that in front of everyone,” Ushijima says. Like Tendou said, he’s more perceptive than most people think. “I hope I didn’t cause any trouble for you two.
“You didn’t, no worries. And you were right, by the way.” Semi crosses his arms.
“Tendou told me.” Ushijima admits. Tendou (in normal Tendou-fashion) makes some sort of purring sound and leans his head against Ushijima’s.
“You two are adorable.” Tendou hums. “You give me soulmate energy. What do you think, Wakatoshi-kun?”
“I think they should do what makes them happy. And I’ll be happy for them either way.” Ushjima says.
Semi glances down at Shirabu, a bit worried about how he’s handling this more than awkward situation with his eyes down and bangs covering his face. But when Shirabu peeks up, Semi realizes he’s smiling. Semi decides to risk wrapping his arm around Shirabu’s shoulder and pulls him close, nuzzling the top of his head because he can and he likes the way Shirabu’s hair smells like almond butter. Shirabu doesn’t resist like Semi feared, though. He even leans into Semi’s touch.
They’re in front of everyone, the whole team, and Shirabu leans into him.
“Thank you, Ushijima.” Shirabu says in his usual tone, although he’s still smiling. “And Tendou… I agree.”
___
This is perfectly normal.
Shirabu stares at himself in the mirror. He’s been doing that for almost an hour now.
This is all perfectly normal.
Just two classmates spending a Friday evening together. Eating dinner. Catching a movie. Having a sleepover. Sharing a bed.
Friends do that.
Friends do that all the time, and it’s perfectly normal.
But no matter how many times Shirabu repeats those words over and over and fucking over in his head, recycles that mantra like he’s been doing all week, his anxiety only seems to be growing. Looking at his reflection for so long doesn’t help, either.
He combs his fingers through his bangs, convinced they look different in a bad way even though he washed and blow-dried his hair like he always does. He considers curling them, or using some gel maybe, or even borrowing one of his mother’s headbands, but that’s too gay. Running some water over his hand, he tousles his bangs a little bit. That looks worse. He swears under his breath, resisting the impulse to cut it all off because his hair is stupid and long and gay and-
Deep breath.
Perfectly normal.
Shirabu turns his attention to his outfit instead, but apparently his mind has a lot to criticize about that, too. He unbuttons the top button of his shirt, tugs at his collar to loosen it the way Semi does. That doesn’t look right, though. Doesn’t Semi usually have his looser? Shirabu unbuttons the second button. Now it’s too loose. He buttons both of them. Now it’s too tight. Why is he even wearing a white button down to begin with? Semi told him it was casual, so why did Shirabu think a collared shirt and khakis were a good idea? He just figured since it’s their first official-
He squeezes his eyes shut.
That word shouldn’t cause his stomach to twist up, make his heart accelerate in the way that it does, but remembering that he and Semi are going on a date… It’s not healthy for his stress level.
They’ve been dating for a month now (34 days, according to Shirabu’s calendar). He’s gotten to the point where walking to school and home after practice together is normal, exciting even, and they have “study sessions” on Tuesdays and Thursdays and Sundays, either at the library or in Semi’s living room. Although studying usually turns into kissing which turns into Semi edging towards third base until Shirabu tells him to stop.
Kissing is a whirlwind of adrenaline and risk and pleasure all on its own, more than Shirabu thought it could ever be. More because it’s with Semi. He would let Semi kiss him for every minute of every day if he could. But they can’t, and Semi’s hands have been wandering to dangerous places lately.
Shirabu stops himself from thinking more about it, already stressed without worrying that he’s not satisfying Semi enough in that way, even if Semi promises that he’s fine and they’ll follow Shirabu’s pace-
His phone vibrates on the bathroom counter, ripping him from his mind like it always does these days.
6:55 PM
Private Message from: Semi
Semi: im on my way <3
Shit.
Shirabu slams his phone down, his fingers struggling to pull his shirt over his head as he rushes back to his bedroom, to his closet. He doesn’t bother to get his breathing under control, he doesn’t have time. A hoodie? No, that’s too casual. His swallows, sliding his hangers around but not seeing anything that isn’t too casual or too fancy or too fucking gay.
Has he put deodorant on yet?
He abandons the shirts in his hands and rummages around his dresser, fumbles with the cap. After applying more deodorant than he probably needs, he notices an unopened bottle of cologne that his grandmother gave him sometime ago. It smells like peaches even though the label says “earthy.” He puts some under his neck. Just in case.
And even though he already brushed his teeth, some cruel part of his brain tells him he needs to brush again, but he almost wants to cry as he sees his hair in the bathroom mirror. No amount of water or combing or rearranging can fix it, fix how stupid his hair looks, how far Semi is out of his league.
Stop it. He plants his hands firmly against the counter. Just breathe, remember to- But his mom shouts up the stairs before he can calm himself down.
“Kenjirou! Your friend is here to pick you up!”
What? Already? How long was he messing with his hair? Shirabu can feel the color draining from his cheeks, see the panic in his own eyes off the mirror. His bangs are still damp. He hasn’t picked out a shirt yet. And Semi’s here.
This is not perfectly normal.
“O-One minute!”
He fumbles with the lightswitch in the bathroom, his new priority being to finish getting dressed. His bedroom door slams behind him, and he throws open his closet, grabs a handful of hangers, tosses them on his bed. The colors look jumbled in his anxiety-ridden vision. What looks good with khakis?
A soft knock on his door makes him jump.
“I’m almost ready, mom.” He struggles to keep his tone flat.
“It’s just me.”
Shirabu whips around, eyes wide, overwhelmed to the point of paralysis at the sound of Semi’s soft voice behind his door.
“Don’t come in.” Shirabu blurts.
“I won’t. Want me to wait downstairs?” He sounds like he’s smiling.
“Yes.” But Shirabu knows that’s not true. “I mean, no. You don’t have to.”
“Okay. I’ll be right out here then, babe.”
The word that makes Shirabu melt. It doesn’t matter that Semi calls him by that name during every phone call, study session, whispers it in the clubroom, it doesn’t matter because Shirabu won’t get tired of hearing it. Babe. And with that word alone, somehow, Shirabu doesn’t feel so anxious.
He turns back to the chaos that is every shirt he owns piled onto his bed. That only makes him stressed again, though, because he’s making Semi wait because he can’t pick out a shirt. He picks up a black turtleneck, swallows as he holds it up against his collar and steps in front of the mirror hanging on his closet. If their date was attending a funeral maybe… But as he turns to put it back with the rest of his shirts, his toe catches on the leg of his dresser. He falls with a gasp and a thud.
“Kenjirou? Everything okay?” Semi calls out, his voice riddled with concern even though he doesn’t come inside.
He’s respecting Shirabu’s boundaries, Shirabu knows that, he loves Semi for it, but for once, maybe just this once… he wouldn’t mind if Semi treated him like a princess.
Shirabu shakes his head. He’s not even sure what that means.
His toe stings, and he’s infuriated to the point of tears, with stress and embarrassment and frustration swirling in the worst possible way in his stomach, but Shirabu isn’t hurt. He could sit up, pull himself to his feet and find a shirt to wear. But he doesn’t.
“Semi?”
“Yeah? Are you okay?”
Maybe it’s pettiness. Maybe he’s pissed that Semi didn’t come in when he heard Shirabu fall on his own. Maybe he’s pissed at himself for thinking that. Maybe Shirabu’s always been a little bit of a brat and Semi is about to find out the hard way.
Whatever it is, Shirabu doesn’t get up.
“Please come in.”
Semi’s eyes widen as he steps into Shirabu’s bedroom, cautiously at first, and then panicked as he rushes to Shirabu. “Babe, what happened? Are you okay?”
Yes, Shirabu enjoys seeing Semi like this more than he thought he would.
“I’m fine. I just stubbed my toe.”
Semi slides his arms around Shirabu, lifting him up onto his feet and brushing his bangs aside to look at him better. Shirabu always blushes when he does that. And then he’s blushing even harder because he’s standing in front of Semi without a shirt on.
It’s not that Semi hasn’t seen him shirtless before. They’ve seen everyone on the volleyball team shirtless, seen their dicks in the showers (although Shirabu never looked). But… Semi’s never seen Shirabu shirtless in his bedroom. Alone. Vulnerable.
Shirabu isn’t oblivious to the way Semi swallows, rakes his eyes over Shirabu’s exposed torso, over muscles that are difficult to notice when Shirabu’s wearing anything over them. He’s dainty, a little underweight, but years of training don’t go unrewarded, at least physically. Those things don’t register in Shirabu’s mind, though, because all he can think about is how absolutely plain he must look to Semi. Worse than plain.
Semi, the boy who… who looks like Semi, with his hair and body and smile that have lived in Shirabu’s mind for years, the best at Shiratorizawa, in the whole word (in Shirabu’s eyes, at least)... And Semi looks even more handsome than usual tonight, in a black sweater beneath a jean jacket, black skinny jeans, boots, and is that mascara?
Shirabu looks down, squeezes his hands white. He... hasn’t felt this before. Semi deserves so much more, someone who’s hotter and more confident and doesn’t spend an hour fretting over what shirt to wear-
“Kenjirou.” Semi tilts Shirabu’s chin up. “You’re overthinking it. Whatever it is.”
Shirabu’s frozen by the chocolate of Semi’s eyes for a moment. But he blinks away, looks down and sighs a bit too aggressively.
“What is it, babe?”
“I… It’s nothing.” Shirabu’s chin feels cold as he pulls away from Semi’s hand. He turns back to his shirts, biting the inside of his lip to stop himself from crying because Shirabu cries too much, too easily and Semi shouldn’t have to put up with it.
But on his bed, his shirts are wrinkled now.
That makes him want to cry, too.
“How about…” Semi slips his arm around Shirabu’s waist, smirking at the way Shirabu jolts at the feeling of Semi’s feelings on his bare skin. “This one.” He picks up a sweater off of Shirabu’s bed. It’s a knit, offwhite sweater the color of cream. His mother bought this sweater recently, since the temperature has been dropping over the last few weeks.
A blush finds Shirabu’s cheeks. He nods.
He still isn’t the beauty that Semi deserves, but the sweater looks nice against his pants and accentuates his eye color. Maybe Shirabu would have picked it out if he weren’t so nervous. As he stares at his mirror, Semi pulls him into a back hug, resting his chin on Shirabu’s shoulder, staring at their reflection.
“You’re so pretty, Kenjirou.” He breathes into Shirabu’s ear.
Shirabu responds almost automatically. “No, I’m not.”
“Hey,” Semi frowns. “That’s not true. At all. You’re beautiful. Haven’t I told you that before?”
“You have.”
“Well clearly not enough.”
Shirabu blinks. “What?”
“I haven’t made it clear how beautiful you are.” Semi shifts so that he’s looking down at Shirabu with his arms still firm around his waist.
“That’s not the issue, I think.”
“Well, I think,” Semi brings Shirabu closer. “If my boyfriend doesn’t know he’s beautiful, then I need to step up my game. Don’t you agree?”
All Shirabu can do is blush.
With the way Semi’s gazing at him… Anyone would blush.
“Kenjirou.”
He raises his eyebrows at Semi.
“You’re beautiful.” He presses a kiss to Shirabu’s forehead.
Shirabu tenses, his first thought jumping to his unlocked bedroom door and his nosy mother downstairs, but something about Semi’s lips brushing against his skin is soothing, enough to trust that it’s okay. Semi wouldn’t let his mother find them like this. It’s okay.
“Kenjirou.”
Shirabu looks at him expectantly.
“You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen.” He kisses the skin beside Shirabu’s eye. “Kenjirou. Beautiful. Pretty. Gorgeous. Perfect.” He kisses Shirabu’s nose. “You’re the most beautiful boy in the whole fucking world.” He kisses Shirabu’s lips, finally, and Shirabu’s giggle turns into a moan more than anything. “You're so beautiful,” Semi says during a breath, “that I,” another kiss, “don’t want anyone else to see you.”
Shirabu pulls away enough to look up at him. “What?”
“I said you’re so beautiful that I don’t want anyone else to see you.”
Semi steals another kiss before Shirabu can really process those words. They make him shiver, make their kiss sweeter somehow, but Shirabu feels like he’s hallucinating for some reason.
“W-Why not?” Shirabu manages to gasp.
Semi smirks, cocks his head a little like it should be painfully obvious. “Because your body is for my eyes only.” And then he kisses Shirabu again, but Shirabu’s lips don’t register the feeling because he’s struggling just to keep his heart inside his chest. He suffocates under the kiss until he manages to grip Semi’s shirt tight enough that he’s freed.
“Semi.” He chokes.
“Yeah, babe?”
That fucking word again.
Shirabu doesn’t give himself time to overthink.
“I think that might be the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
What’s left of his breath is ripped from Shirabu’s lungs as he’s thrown down onto his bed, on top of his clothes, greedy lips finding his before he knows what’s happening.
“Kenjirou,” Semi kisses him with an intensity he last had the day they became a couple. “Who knew you could talk like that.”
Shirabu feels a twinge of embarrassment, but something thrilling swells in his chest all the same, and he almost starts to say something else, something else like that, but Semi abruptly pulls back. Shirabu glares at him, at the loss of warmth against his mouth.
“You know I would kiss you all night. But we should probably get going. Movie at 8:30, remember?”
Semi wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Shirabu loves it when he does that, although there’s something satisfying about seeing his saliva on Semi’s lips. He blushes that thought away.
They do their best to put away all of Shirabu’s clothes, smooth out his sheets, fix Shirabu’s somewhat disheveled hair, and Shirabu feels his shoulders relax as they say goodbye to his mother who’s oblivious to any and all homosexual acts that just transpired upstairs. Semi has a way with her, managing to both compliment their home and make Shirabu’s mother laugh before they head out the door. That also makes Shirabu feel calm.
Semi must have expected Shirabu to feel nervous about their first date, because he’s especially conscientious of maintaining distance between them on the way to dinner, at the restaurant when he sits across from Shirabu at the booth, while walking to the movie theater with his hands deep in his pockets.
“I am definitely getting us popcorn. You hardly had enough to eat.” Semi cocks an eyebrow at Shirabu.
“Not everyone eats three servings in one meal.”
“I think three servings is an exaggeration. Especially coming from the guy who had less than one.”
Shirabu smiles with his eyes. “I had plenty.”
“I’m still getting popcorn.”
“I didn’t say you shouldn’t.”
“What’s your favorite candy?” Semi asks suddenly.
“Why? I don’t want you to buy me anything.”
“I wanna treat you!”
Shirabu feels his heart rate pick up a bit, shaking his head. “There’s no need.”
“I think there is.”
“I don’t think I did anything to deserve candy.”
“You deserve a lot more than candy.”
Semi shrugs as he says that, looks up at a glowing street sign in front of them, but Shirabu feels something in the pit of his stomach at those words. He doesn’t know why.
As soon as they get to the theater, though, it’s that feeling in the pit of his stomach that causes Shirabu to hurry ahead of Semi to the register. He’s ordering a cherry slushie (a large, with one straw) and paying for it before Semi catches up.
“Here,” Shirabu spins around, nearly spilling the drink into Semi. “For us to share.”
Semi stares at him.
“Really?”
Shirabu swallows, and then he nods.
“You’re okay with that?”
“I want to.” Shirabu blurts. And then he takes a sip so dizzyingly fast that his head hurts from the cold and extends the straw for Semi.
An indirect kiss.
They both know that, Shirabu better than anyone. Even though there are plenty of other people around them, watching them, maybe, Shirabu ignores that right now.
Semi puts his hand over Shirabu’s as he takes a sip.
Kiss.
The movie is a drama, something Semi was interested in, and something that Shirabu was comfortable with since it isn’t overtly romantic. Even still, neither of them are really paying attention. Not while their focus is on the slushie, taking turns drinking from the straw, one of them getting up to refill the cup every time it almost runs out.
Near the end of the movie, Shirabu takes another risk. At least, it’s a risk for Shirabu, although no one else would consider brushing his hand against Semi’s in a dark, mostly empty movie theater a risk. Semi doesn’t react at first. Not until Shirabu tugs at one of Semi’s fingers.
“You’re sure you’re comfortable with this?” Semi leans over, whispering.
Shirabu inhales, the thrill of it all making his body shake a bit. “Yes. I am.”
When it’s over, they sit through the credits. Neither one of them wants to release their hands. Even as they’re walking out of the theater. Throwing away trash. Stepping onto the dim sidewalk. Shirabu doesn’t let go.
Semi doesn’t stop smiling, either.
And as they walk back towards Semi’s house, even with a bit of anxiety bubbling at the thought of their sleepover, Shirabu feels like this really is perfectly normal.
___
“So… What do you wanna do?” Semi kicks his bedroom door closed, drinks in hand.
Shirabu sits on the edge of Semi’s bed, jaw so tense he must look like he’s in pain. He flinches at the sound of the door, and then he blushes. “Whatever you want.”
“That’s the lamest answer.”
“You asked.” Shirabu relaxes enough to give him a cold look.
“Do you want to watch a movie? Play video games? Make out?”
“We just spent the last two hours watching something,” Shirabu deflects quickly, trying his best to keep his heart in his chest where it belongs, to keep Semi unaware of how Shirabu’s entire body flushes at the last option. The option Shirabu wants the most.
Semi smirks like he can see right through his boyfriend, though, but he doesn’t press him. He passes Shirabu a bottle of ramune (green-apple flavored), falling onto his bed beside him with his own in hand (coconut flavored).
“That’s fair.”
Semi takes a sip of his soda.
Shirabu watches the way Semi’s throat moves as he swallows. When Semi opens his eyes, pulls the bottle away from his lips, he barely has time to look away.
“What did you think of our first real date?” Semi asks.
“Dinner was good.” Shirabu tries to get Semi’s neck off his mind. “I thought the movie was mediocre at times. The theater was cold. I wish I had brought a jacket.”
He knows how stiff he sounds, but he can’t help it. Not with his mind in chaos at his boyfriend’s smell in his nose, butterflies swarming his stomach, expectations making his blood warm because certain things are expected to happen when two people who are dating spend the night together.
Semi sits up, one leg dangling off his bed and the other beneath him. “That’s not what I meant.”
Shirabu doesn’t say anything. Instead, he watches bubbles pop in his ramune bottle.
Both of them know that wasn’t what Semi was asking.
Even still, Shirabu murmurs, “Oh. What do you mean?”
“I mean how did our first real date make you feel ? Mentally, emotionally, that kind of stuff.”
He lets Shirabu take his time to think. Patient. He’s always so patient, especially when it comes to things like these, like how Shirabu’s feeling. Other boys aren’t as patient as Semi, Shirabu thinks, swelling at the thought.
“Eita.”
Shirabu looks at him. Holding eye contact with Semi is still an experience in and of itself, even after 34 days of dating.
“Yeah, babe?”
“It was exciting. I was nervous, but I think you knew that, and it ended up not being as dangerous as I thought it would be.”
“Dangerous?”
Shirabu flushes. “A better word would be frightening.”
“Yeah?”
“It was thrilling. In a good way.” He presses his lips together. “I liked holding your hand.”
Semi smiles at him. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“...We should do it again.”
“I’d love to.”
“Sooner rather than later.”
“I’m down with that.”
“Eita.”
“Hm?”
Semi leans in a little closer, close enough that their noses could touch if Shirabu moved just a bit. The threat of a kiss blossoms in the air between them. It makes Shirabu shiver.
“Never mind.”
“What?” Semi cocks his head with that smirk of his but doesn’t move away. “Don’t ‘never mind’ me, what were you gonna say?”
Shirabu’s shakes his head, his body wanting to look away despite his mind refusing. “It’s nothing.”
Semi closes the gap between them by pressing his lips to Shirabu’s nose. “Really?” He kisses Shirabu’s nose again. “Nothing?” His fingers inch towards Shirabu’s thighs, but Shirabu doesn’t pull away even though the touch makes him tremble. “Are you sure about that?”
Before Shirabu can answer, or do anything, really, Semi’s fingers are attacking Shirabu’s thighs, hips, stomach, any part of his body that’s ticklish, throwing Shirabu onto his back with the force of his own uncontrollable laughter.
Shirabu has never told anyone about how ticklish he is, but Semi must have found out at some point, which is the worst case scenario because Shirabu hates being tickled. More than anything. He hates how vulnerable he feels, how his frustration is masked by the smiling and laughing he can’t resist.
But now, writhing under Semi’s touch, that smile glowing down at him like Shirabu is the only thing in Semi’s world right now. Maybe being ticklish isn’t such a bad thing.
“S-Stop! Semi!” Shirabu chokes, still rolling under Semi’s persistent fingers. “Quit it! P-Please, that’s- that’s enough!”
Semi presses a kiss to Shirabu’s forehead, but he’s unrelenting as he pushes his hands further up his boyfriend’s shirt. “You want me to stop? Then tell me what you were going to say.”
“N-Nothing!” Shirabu squeals.
Continuing to tickle him, Semi pulls himself over Shirabu, straddling him with his thighs on either side of Shirabu’s hips. Shirabu falls even more out of breath, but it’s because of Semi’s position more than his laughter.
Semi hasn’t straddled him like this since the night they confessed.
“F-Fine!” Shirabu gasps.
A painful moment longer, and then Semi’s hands fall still, resting on Shirabu’s torso. He gives Shirabu an expectant look. With the lamplight casting something like a halo around Semi’s hair, a hint of gold in the chocolate of his eyes, Semi looks ethereal.
“Being your boyfriend is better than everything.”
There.
He said it.
Boyfriend.
His tongue recoils at the sound, but a happy shiver runs up his spine. That word. He smiles out of relief, joy, the way Semi’s looking at him right now. Boyfriend.
And then he gasps as Semi abruptly pulls his hands from Shirabu’s shirt, bringing them to cup Shirabu’s face. Semi spends a long minute, more than a minute, melting, engulfing Shirabu with his eyes, a smile on his perfect lips that can only come from watching his boyfriend’s walls crumble in his fingertips.
This smile of Semi’s, stretching into his cheeks but wanting to go further, a slant in his eyebrows and nothing but glowing sincerity. A smile as honest as Semi is. Shirabu wonders… How is being gay a bad thing when Semi smiles like this?
Semi kisses him slowly.
No tongue, no greed, no rush. Soft lips the flavor of soda and cheap popcorn, fitting against each other like the moon, like stars.
How is being gay a bad thing when Semi kisses him like this?
“Boyfriend, hm?” Semi eventually whispers against Shirabu’s mouth.
“Yeah. Boyfriend.”
“You like being my boyfriend?”
“Yeah.” Shirabu breathes, his eyes sliding shut as he loses himself under Semi’s sweet breath. “I like being your boyfriend.”
“I like being your boyfriend, too.”
“My boyfriend.”
“Your boyfriend.”
Another kiss, not quite as slow but somehow more tender. Shirabu finds himself squeezing his hands at his side and lifting his head into Semi’s touch.
Until they can’t breathe, their lips don’t part. And even then, Semi just smiles against Shirabu’s mouth and murmurs, “Since you don’t want to watch anything, how about this: I dim the lights, introduce you to my favorite band, and pin your wrists down while we make out. How does that sound?”
Shirabu’s heart stops working properly. “Good.”
His skin feels cold as Semi gets off him, so he wraps one of his blankets around him while Semi shuts off the overhead lights, leaving only his lamp on. It’s dim, like he said it would be. He pulls his phone out and sets it on his bedside table before hitting shuffle on some playlist. Rock music with lots of guitar, from what Shirabu can hear. Semi turns it down a lot, though, so that it’s nothing more than faint background noise.
But instead of pinning his wrists down like he said, Semi climbs back onto the bed only to have Shirabu crawl into his lap.
It takes a ridiculous amount of internal pep talk for Shirabu to straddle Semi’s waist, wrap his arms around his neck and run his hands up into Semi’s hair hard, but it’s worth it. The pink in Semi’s cheeks, surprise in his eyes, it makes up for it.
Shirabu’s careful not to slam their mouths together as he leans in, fully aware that this hint of aggression isn’t like him. Semi doesn’t seem to have any complaints, though, and he lets Shirabu take control of the kiss. Shirabu isn’t confident enough to try to press his tongue between Semi’s lips, but he risks a small nip at Semi’s bottom lip. He could faint at the groan Semi lets out.
This has to be better than sex. Shirabu can’t imagine how anything could be better than the sound of Semi’s exhales between kisses, Semi’s hands gripping his waist, holding him down. Shirabu pulls on Semi’s hair just enough to get a dose of adrenaline.
“Alright, okay, Kenjirou,” Semi smirks the next time their lips separate. “You’ve had your fun.”
Shirabu doesn’t have to wait to find out what he means by that, because Semi doesn’t waste any time showing him. With one hand still digging into Shirabu’s waist, the other grabs a clump of Shirabu’s hair, yanking his head back so his neck arches. Shirabu turns bright red at the moan that escapes him, and that seems to encourage Semi as he places a kiss on the base of Shirabu’s throat. It’s a soft kiss, deliberate in how his lips linger there.
Shirabu swallows. Semi’s hot breath trails up his neck.
His lips land on skin between his jaw and his throat. Shirabu gasps as Semi starts to kiss, but it’s more than a kiss because he uses his tongue, his teeth. There’s something greedy in the way he pulls Shirabu’s hair harder as Shirabu squirms at the sensation. He has a bad feeling that’s going to leave a mark, but he assumed Semi would know that and avoid it.
“Semi-” Shirabu fidgets, only to be silenced by Semi’s fingers squeezing his hip.
But Semi pulls away from his neck almost immediately. “What is it, Kenjirou?” He looks at Shirabu through low-lidded eyes, though Shirabu can’t look back with his head at this angle. “You want me to stop?”
“I…” Shirabu feels dizzy under Semi’s gaze. “I don’t want you to leave a mark.”
Semi releases Shirabu’s hip to rub his thumb along the wet skin he had been attacking, peering at Shirabu’s throat closely. “Okay, babe. Then I won’t.” He places a soft kiss on the spot. “Even though I want to mark up your neck so everyone knows you’re my boyfriend…” Shirabu digs his thumb into his palm to keep himself from shivering. “That can wait. But can I keep kissing you? Is that okay?”
Shirabu collects his thoughts as best he can before nodding.
Waiting a bit longer just to make sure Shirabu really is sure, Semi brings his lips back to Shirabu’s throat. He lets go of Shirabu’s hair, but only to cup the back of his head gently. His other hand rests on the edge of Shirabu’s sweater. A question.
Semi hasn’t been allowed to touch Shirabu beneath his clothes, in a sexual way at least. He doesn’t try to pressure Shirabu into anything, either, but he tests the waters sometimes. Like now, as Shirabu freezes at the feeling of a fingertip brush against the skin under his shirt.
“Can I?” Semi whispers, pressing another kiss to Shirabu’s neck.
He’s probably not in his right mind with his blood warming by the second, a tingling sensation where Semi’s lips touched his skin. That’s the only excuse Shirabu can think of for why he nods a breathless yes.
Again, Semi pauses to give Shirabu a chance to take it back, but Shirabu even goes so far as to bring his hand over Semi’s, encouraging him to move. Shirabu doesn’t know what’s gotten into him tonight. He doesn’t know, yet this… all of this, it’s not nearly as overwhelming as he imagined it to be.
Semi pushes Shirabu’s head forward and finds his other hand to hold onto, giving Shirabu something to squeeze. And then, ever so slowly, his fingers glide up Shirabu’s abdomen. A sigh leaves Shirabu’s mouth as his body reacts, recoils yet gives into the feeling, something like a chill exploding from the skin Semi touches.
“Someone’s touch-deprived,” Semi jokes, but Shirabu can’t glare at him because Semi’s fingertips brush against his nipple. He moans, moans like he might cry, and arches his back. Semi does a poor job of hiding his smirk.
Mere seconds that feel longer than seconds pass as Shirabu’s body tries and fails to adjust to Semi’s touch. He teases Shirabu’s nipples a few more times, probably just because he likes the sounds and expressions Shirabu makes, but it’s nothing compared to the whimper Shirabu lets out when Semi’s finger skirts his waistband.
“God, fuck, Eita…”
He was paying attention to the heat pooling in the pit of his stomach this whole time, not wanting to get hard whatsoever while in Semi’s lap, but Semi’s hand starts to slip down even further and Shirabu’s dick abruptly throbs.
His body protests the loss of contact as he grabs sheets, fumbles away from Semi with his heartbeat making it hard to hear. The pulse in his dick is distracting, too, and he helplessly tries to cover his waist with a blanket once he’s on the opposite side of the bed.
Semi must not be surprised since he doesn’t try to stop him, or even say anything.
“...I went too far, didn’t I.”
Shirabu avoids Semi’s eyes.
“Hey,” Semi murmurs, but Shirabu still won’t look up. “I know I did. I should’ve asked first. I’m sorry, babe.”
“It’s not you.” Shirabu blurts. “It’s not-” He falters as he finally looks up, cheeks red as he looks up at Semi, but his gaze... lands on something else.
On Semi’s pants.
“Oh my god." Shirabu breathes. But then he realizes what he just did and jerks his head up in a panic, face hot enough to burn anything that touches it. “Wait! No, god, I didn’t mean- Forget I said that.”
It only takes a second for Semi to realize what he’s talking about. He’s unphased, though, seemingly more concerned about Shirabu’s reaction to his boner rather than the dark bulge in his pants itself. He cocks an eyebrow at Shirabu.
“Is it that surprising? We’ve been making out for a while now. And, I mean, you sort of grinded into me by accident. But, this isn’t a bad thing, right?” Semi’s expression falls a little. “Wait, does it make you uncomfortable? I can go take care of it in the bathroom right now, if you want, I didn’t-”
“No! No.” Shirabu shakes his head quickly. Well, maybe he is uncomfortable, but not for the reasons Semi thinks. “I’m fine. That’s… fine. Please don’t worry about it.”
“You sure?”
Shirabu nods, swallows and pulls the blanket closer around himself.
“Alright.”
The silence that envelops the bedroom is indescribably awkward, and Shirabu can only deal with it for so long before shuffling to the edge of the bed with the blanket still around his waist. He needs air, cold water, space from Semi to calm down more than just his heart rate. It’s getting hard to breathe in here.
“Kenjirou?” Semi stands up at the same time Shirabu does.
He reaches out to stop Shirabu from leaving, but he ends up grabbing the blanket instead. And as Shirabu whirls around to take it back, to wrap it around his waist before he ruins everything, Semi’s gaze lands on Shirabu’s pants. On the bulge in his own pants.
Both of them are paralyzed.
Until Semi clears his throat, blinks and looks up at the horror on Shirabu’s face. “...Kenjirou?”
Shirabu yells at his legs to work, desperate to disappear and lock himself in the bathroom, but he can’t move.
It’s too late now.
“I didn’t- I didn’t even realize,” Semi shakes his head, his mouth curving. “Were you… Did you want to deal with that? In the bathroom? I guess that’s where you were going… Sorry, I didn’t mean to stop you. By all means.” He gestures to the door.
Shirabu’s throat feels tighter at the implication of his words. There’s nothing he can say, not unless he wants to embarrass himself in front of his boyfriend.
“...Right.”
But Shirabu stays put.
“Uh,” Semi shifts, crosses his arms. “Do you need me to show you where it is?”
“No.”
“Okay, babe.”
Once again, Shirabu doesn’t move. He just shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath instead. It’s too late. As much as his anxiety is swelling with every moment his dick remains hard, he has to tell himself it’s already too late and this conversation is inevitable.
“Semi.”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know how.”
Shirabu’s glad his eyes are closed because he really doesn’t want to see the expression on his boyfriend’s face as those words add to the weight of the air around them.
Rule #13: Never let anyone, particularly boys, find out you don’t know how to masturbate.
“...You don’t know how… Like, you don’t know how to jerk off?”
Shirabu turns away with a soft tch. That’s enough of an answer for Semi.
“Kenjirou.” His voice is softer than it was just a moment ago, and Shirabu almost doesn’t pull away when he feels Semi’s hand on his shoulder. Semi doesn’t reach after him when he does pull away, though. “I promise that isn’t something to be embarrassed about. Especially with me. Don’t you know that by now? That no matter what it is, I won’t ever judge you? And it’s not like you can help this, either.”
Now, when Semi touches his shoulder again, Shirabu doesn’t stop him. Of course he’s on the verge of tears, because that’s his automatic response to essentially everything, but it’s deeper than that. These words, Semi’s words. He didn’t know he needed to hear them until they make his eyelashes sting. The threat of tears.
“But…” Semi goes on. “Doesn’t it hurt?”
Shirabu’s eyes widen.
His dick definitely hurts. It always does while waiting for boners to disappear.
He gives a small nod, still unable to turn around and face Semi.
“Do you want me to help you, Kenjirou?”
Shirabu feels light-headed.
“Help. As in, help me… help me to…”
“Yeah.” Semi sucks in a breath, nods. “Exactly.”
“O-Oh.”
For the first time tonight, Semi flushes pink. “But, but that’s just an idea. It’s stupid, honestly. You- Please don’t feel pressured at all. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No.”
“Okay, that’s totally okay-”
“No, I meant… I meant, yes. I wouldn’t mind… your help.”
Neither of them can believe what Shirabu’s saying.
“Kenjirou? Really?”
“Yes.”
“You’re absolutely sure about this?”
“Just do it, Eita.”
“Well...Actually,” Semi shifts. “I think it would be easier if I just showed you.”
“Showed me..?”
“Yeah.” Semi brings tentative fingers to his waistband, undoing his belt and jeans in slow yet fluid motions. “Like this.” He pauses before pushing his pants down, as if he’s assessing the level of panic in Shirabu’s eyes, but he must decide it’s not too bad because the next thing he knows, Shirabu’s watching Semi Eita’s cock spring out of his underwear.
He’s seen Semi’s dick before. Only briefly in the showers and clubroom, though, never letting himself see anything on purpose. But this… Semi’s not exceptionally long or thick persay. It’s more like his cock is somehow as pretty as he is. Perfect. Just right. Mouthwatering.
Maybe just a little bit longer than average.
The only thought in Shirabu’s head is holy shit.
He doesn’t notice himself licking his lips, but Semi does. Semi smirks as he kicks his jeans and briefs off completely, turns his attention to his dresser where he digs around for a moment before pulling out a small bottle. Shirabu doesn’t need to have watched porn his whole life to know that it’s lube.
Semi settles on his bed with his back against the headboard, legs spread in front of him, the sound of lube between his fingers muffled by a guitar solo from his phone.
It’s the hottest thing Shirabu has seen in his entire life.
“Kenjirou,” Semi smiles as he pulls his boyfriend’s attention away from his leaking dick. “Come over here, babe. On the bed.”
Shirabu does as he’s told, even if he’s barely conscious in this situation which feels like a dream more than anything. He sits criss-cross in front of Semi, in front of Semi’s dick. He bites his lip.
“I’ve never done this in front of someone before.” Semi admits, cheeks turning pink as embarrassment finally creeps up on him.
“I’m glad I’m the first.” Shirabu finds himself saying.
“Oh, really?”
He nods.
This seems to restore Semi’s confidence somewhat, because he brings a hand to his base and lets his head fall back as he starts pumping. Nothing about it is slow, but rather more abrasive, more desperate than Shirabu expected. Not that Shirabu had any expectations going into this.
But Semi’s only been pumping himself off for barely a minute when Shirabu finds himself scooting forward, entranced by the summation of his wettest dreams unfolding in front of him.
“Yeah? You like watching me jerk off, Kenjirou?”
Shirabu always gets flustered when Semi says things like that, but for some reason, in this moment, he has a sudden impulse to play along. More than that.
So instead of responding, Shirabu gets on all fours, closes the gap between them and brings a shaky hand over Semi’s.
He swallows. “I should practice, shouldn’t I?”
Semi looks at him like he wants to fuck him right then and there. His hand stills, and he doesn’t take his eyes off Shirabu as he pulls away, leaving his cock free for Shirabu’s hand. His sudden burst of brattiness leaves him as soon as it comes, though, but he’s in too deep for Semi to let him stop now.
“Here,” Semi smirks, pulling Shirabu’s hand onto his cock.
Shirabu’s breath catches at the pulse he can feel in his palm. His own dick twitches. He can’t begin to think about how many rules this is breaking.
He doesn’t care about that anymore.
Semi wraps his hand over Shirabu’s, coaxing him to start moving, and putting on a show once he does. A show of bucking his hips up into Shirabu’s hand, letting his eyes slide closed but not quite, releasing soft groans that Shirabu gets distracted thinking about in class sometimes.
It doesn’t take long for Shirabu to get the hang of it. Where to tighten his grip, how to swipe his thumb over the head, paying attention to his shaft. Semi shuts his eyes and exhales a moan, a low moan that makes Shirabu whimper just to hear it, and he cums a moment later.
Shirabu didn’t realize how much it can splatter. He flinches as white fluid lands on his nose, cheeks.
“Fuck, you look so pretty with my cum on your face.” Semi groans, out of breath, giving himself a few final pumps. He rubs his thumb over Shirabu’s chin with his free hand, and slips it into Shirabu’s mouth before he can object. Salty, a little bit sweet.
Shirabu takes a risk by sucking on Semi’s finger.
“Shit.” Semi pulls his hand away, but only to wrap it around Shirabu’s throat. “You think you've had enough practice, baby? You wanna make yourself feel good now?”
Shirabu doesn’t recognize himself as he nods a bit too eagerly, lets Semi sit him up and start to undo his pants. Rationally, he knows he should hate this. But… Why should he? Because it’s gay? It could just be his aching dick taking the edge off, but Shirabu couldn’t be happier to be gay.
He only falters once Semi’s fingers reach his briefs. One look from Semi gives him the momentary adrenaline he needs to pull them off, but it doesn’t make up for the crippling lack of self-esteem he has when it comes to his dick, knowing that he’s not as big as his teammates and took precautions to hide, mainly from Semi because-
“Kenjirou. You’re perfect.” Semi rubs circles into Shirabu’s waist as he gazes at him, hunger behind his eyes. “Beautiful. Have I made that clear enough yet?”
Only Semi can mute Shirabu’s insecurities with a single word. A single look. A touch. Shirabu’s too dazed to do anything other than let Semi reposition the two of them, with Semi against the headboard again and Shirabu leaning back against his chest. Semi pours lube into his hand. He rubs some into Shirabu’s, too, and guides both of them to Shirabu’s cock.
“Make yourself cum for me, Kenjirou. Can you do that?” Semi murmurs.
Shirabu just leans his head back on Semi’s shoulder and gives himself a few experimental pumps. He’s tried this before, but he never let himself finish. Mostly because he was always hard thinking about some hot boy, which violated the don’t-jerk-off-to-hot-boys rule. But this is so much different than that.
His thighs are already trembling, moans pouring out of his like rain from the sky. And Semi’s eating every little noise up.
“Yeah, babe? That feels good, doesn’t it. You’re so good for me, fuck,” Semi almost laughs, bringing his hand to join Shirabu’s on his cock.
"S-Shut up," Shirabu manages, but he's cut off by a whimper.
It’s embarrassing how quick it is, but that’s all it takes for Shirabu to arch his back, squeeze his eyes shut and cum just like Semi asked, his whole body trembling as the first orgasm of his life washes through him.
Semi attacks his neck with open-mouthed kisses while he comes down from the high. He keeps kissing him, even after Shirabu collapses against him.
Semi gradually changes to gentler kisses that pepper Shirabu’s cheeks and forehead.
Semi runs tender fingers through Shirabu’s hair.
Semi whispers beautiful into Shirabu’s ear.
Semi covers Shirabu in a blanket as Shirabu starts to nod off.
This isn’t how Shirabu ever imagined their first official date, their first official sleepover to play out. He never would’ve guessed Semi would knock down his strongest of walls in a single night. An absurd chain of events that has left them half naked in each other’s arms.
It’s not that so much can change in a short time more than it is that Semi Eita can do things other people can’t in a short time. Or maybe that’s just for Shirabu.
“Being queer fucking sucks, but it’s so worth it.”
Semi said that to him what feels like so long ago now, even if it was only a few weeks. He didn’t know what he meant at the time. He didn’t think he could ever really know those words. Until now.
Semi’s worth it.
And that’s why being queer is worth it, too.
i never thought it would be you
[a ridiculously self-indulgent kagehina omegaverse fanfic. ie Kageyama adopts an omega named Hinata to help him get through his worse-than-average ruts and has absolutely no plans to fall in love... Until he does. ]
pairing: kageyama tobio x hinata shoyo
warnings: smut, nsfw, omegaverse
word count: 20k
Kageyama digs his hands deeper into the pockets of his hoodie. “This is so fucking stupid.”
It’s his day off, his one fucking day off, and here he is, walking downtown by himself to window shop. He’s never been to one of these shelters before and never thought he would need to at any point in his life. And yet here he fucking is.
Why did he have to be the one alpha in his family, in his school, on the team to have abnormal ruts? Why him? It’s not like they’re that bad. He’s been able to manage that time of every few months fine. Well, not fine, but not terrible… Maybe a little terrible. The irritability that overwhelms him and make him lash out at anything and everything that moves is a pain in the ass, and it’s definitely worse than other alphas, but what sets him apart the most is his fucking sex drive.
It’s more than embarrassing, having to stay home from school every so often to hump into his pillows and his hands and clothes scented by omegas he doesn’t even know. For hours. It’s nonstop, until he reaches a perpetual state of orgasm that tears through his body like wildfire but leaves him so fucking cold, empty, desperate, angry, wanting more and more and more . What’s worse is most alphas only have ruts when exposed to omegas in heat or maybe once a year for no particular reason other than to clear out their systems. But Kageyama can’t go more than 6 months before he feels that telltale rage boiling in the pit of his stomach and leaking into his aching dick. Sometimes it lasts three days, sometimes it’s five, sometimes it’s a whole fucking week.
It’s why he ended up at the doctors’ office a few weeks ago with his beta mother scared to death of him missing more volleyball practice and his grades dropping lower than they already were. The doctor said there wasn’t any treatment or medication that could help him. Aside from the obvious one, of course... The obvious one being to find a pretty omega that he could bond with, bite, mark, fuck.
Kageyama’s still in high school, he’s never dated anyone or even thought about dating, so he just chalked it up to be another pointless doctor’s appointment that left him slightly embarrassed and annoyed, and his mother anxious and unsatisfied. He’ll just have to wait until he’s older, until he finds someone and courts them and gets married properly, to get any sort of relief. While it was frustrating, he wasn’t surprised. Just a few more years.
So when his mother told him he was going to the omega shelter to pick one out, and no, she didn’t care how much he complained, his heart caught in his throat.
“It doesn’t mean forever,” she told him flatly. “Just until you get out of high school.”
He was adamantly opposed. How could he use someone like that? Adopt an omega just to fuck them during his ruts? Only pay them attention when his instincts demanded sex? Leave a permanent bond mark but throw them away once he was off to university? It was a fate worse than death for an omega. But his mother was more stubborn, more persistent, more authoritative than Kageyama, and he knew he didn’t have a choice from the beginning.
On the bus ride downtown, he tried to tell himself it’s not as bad as he thinks. Omegas essentially only exist to breed and to tend to alphas, so adopting one to help with his ruts wasn’t a ridiculous proposition, and it might even make whatever omega he finds happy. Happy until he threw them away.
Kageyama can almost smell the shelter once he turns onto the street. It’s a sickly sweet smell that his instincts tell him is distinctively omegan even though he’s never smelled it before, at least not to this extent. He pulls his sunglasses off his nose. Keeping his head down, he scans the street to make sure he doesn’t recognize anyone and yanks the door of the small building open.
The waiting room is plain and white. There are a few couches lining the walls and coffee tables piled with magazines, the dim glare of a TV in the corner showing this week’s forecast. A middle-aged man sits flipping through a newspaper. It’s all so normal. Way too fucking normal. Kageyama grinds his teeth together as he approaches the front desk.
“Hello. How can I help you?” A tall, older woman asks him. She seems sweet. For some reason, that pisses Kageyama off.
“Hi. I’m… Um, I’m looking to… adopt.” He manages to say. The words feel thick and uncomfortable in his mouth.
“Wonderful! Can I see your I.D.?”
He fumbles around his pocket for the card that has his name, age, picture, and confirmation of being an alpha. The secretary eyes him uneasily, probably when she reads his age, but she hands it back along with a clipboard of paperwork. He’s still shocked that you only have to be 16 to adopt without a parent at some shelters like this one, though he doubts anyone his age has ever done so. This must be a first.
After 45 minutes of scribbling, shuffling, awkwardness, and waiting, the woman returns from filing his paperwork and beckons him forward. She leads him into a small room that reminds him of a nurse’s office. The smell is even more pungent here and he realizes it’s coming from the windowless door on the other end of the room.
“Please remember to remain calm as you walk through. There’s paperwork beside each window with their information. A lot of the omegas here don’t have the greatest pasts. Feel free to watch them for as long as you like, though they might not interact with you. Let me know if any of them catch your eye.” She smiles.
And with that, she opens the door for him.
It’s exactly like Kageyama imagined, but worse. A long, bright hallway stretches before him with glass walls on either side, or rather glass windows. Rows and rows of windows. Kageyama’s cheeks flush red as he takes a few steps forward, trying to process the sight of the small rooms behind these windows, white and simple just like the waiting room, except they’re occupied. The first few omegas are sleeping on futons with their backs to the hallway, one of them looking to be in her twenties and another looking like he’s a bit older than Kageyama.
Kageyama shakes his head, trying to keep himself grounded, and continues on despite how fucking invasive this all seems. Window shopping. It really is just window shopping.
Now that he’s here, he’s not exactly sure what to do, though. Should he just pick a random one? No, that doesn’t feel right. He watches a boy reading a book for a moment but jerks his head away when the omega looks up at him.
This is pointless. Stupid. So stupid.
He makes up his mind that he’s going to leave. It doesn’t matter that he’s been looking for less than ten minutes, it doesn’t matter that his mother will lecture him, it doesn’t matter that his ruts are unbearable. He picks up his pace, eyes locked on the door at the end of the hallway that leads to the exit, adrenaline encouraging him to get as far away from this place as possible. But then something catches his eye. Something bright.
Kageyama stops.
The second to last window, on his right. A boy with ridiculously bright orange hair and brown eyes that look soft like caramel. He’s short, much shorter than Kageyama. He’s fiddling with a cube in his hands, some type of toy that omegas use to calm themselves if Kageyama remembers correctly. It takes a moment for him to notice a smell, too, a smell that’s more tantalizing than the rest. Tangerines and pine.
Kageyama just stands and stares. His eyes eventually wander to the clipboard hanging beside the window.
Hinata Shoyo
Age: 16
Status: Unmarked
When Kageyama looks back at him, their eyes meet. That’s all it takes for him to change his mind completely, about all of this, because he’s certain this boy is for him. He doesn’t know why or how he knows that, and he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care if it’s just his greedy alpha instincts taking control of his ability to make rational decisions, he rushes out the door and waves at the woman who checked him in.
“I’ll take him. I want Hinata Shoyo.”
__
“That was quick,” the woman grins. She starts rummaging around for something behind the front desk. Kageyama just nods once. His throat is too tight and mouth too dry to say anything. He still can't believe he’s doing this.
He almost changes his mind once again when she pulls a collar and leash out and disappears into a back room, but the image of that omega, that mesmerizing omega, keeps his feet grounded against linoleum.
How long has it been since she disappeared? Thirty minutes? Five hours? A whole week? No, only a minute or two. Kageyama doesn’t realize how tense his body is until he sees a flash of orange hair as a door squeaks open and the woman returns. His jaw relaxes, his teeth stop grinding into each other, his shoulders slump down, he pulls his fingernails out of his palm. It must be his instincts telling his body to remain calm in the presence of an anxious omega, but Kageyama thinks it’s just relief. Relief that he’s done with all of this, that he managed to make his mother happy while also finding an omega who actually makes him.... feel something.
Dumbass. Kageyama scolds himself red. That’s not why he’s here. They haven’t even spoken yet, they don’t fucking know each other, not to mention this Hinata Shoyo is going to hate him forever and longer when he realizes why Kageyama adopted him to begin with.
“Here you are.” The woman’s voice shakes him from his head. She extends a simple, black leash for him to take. At the of it stands Hinata, maybe a couple centimeters taller than Kageyama thought, bright hair tousled in a way that looks unbelievably soft, a blank expression on his blushing face, a yellow bag slung across his shoulder, lips pink and shiny from licking them so much.
Kageyama’s body acts on its own accord at the sight, the smell of the omega, and he feels himself emitting calming pheromones. Hinata transfers his weight from one foot to another and sniffs the air tentatively. A content look blooms over his face. Kageyama shouldn’t feel this fucking happy that Hinata likes the smell.
“Okay, you two are all set.”
The leash weighs a thousand pounds in Kageyama’s hand as he gives it a soft tug. It’s an awkward tug, leaving his face scorching and the air heavy, and he watches Hinata carefully to see how he responds. He’s surprised when Hinata just takes a step forward in the direction he pulled him in without any sort of reaction. Kageyama swallows. Obviously he wouldn’t be indignant about wearing a collar, he’s an omega from a shelter; they’re trained to do that. And Kageyama even sort of... likes it. Something about Hinata following him obediently as they leave and start down the sidewalk satisfies a deep, primal want in himself as an alpha. He hates himself for it.
“You- don’t need to wear this.” Kageyama grumbles, unclasping the collar from Hinata’s neck once they reach the bus stop. He stuffs it into his hoodie pocket and slouches amidst the weight of the air around them.
“You’re Kageyama Tobio, right?” Hinata’s voice startles him.
Kageyama looks down into those brown eyes, feeling a chill run up his spine at his light voice.
“Yeah, I am. Hinata Shoyo?”
“Yeah. My name was next to my room, wasn’t it?”
“Well, yeah, I was just checking.”
“Hm.”
“What?”
“You’re younger than most of the alphas who came in.”
“I- I guess.” Kageyama mutters.
“So why’d you adopt me?”
He’s talkative. Fuck.
“Why were you at a shelter?” Kageyama retorts with a sharp edge in his tone he didn’t mean. But Hinata doesn’t seem to notice, or at least care.
“I was abandoned when I presented a few months ago. My family is made up of alphas and betas, so they didn’t want an omega. I was only at that shelter for two weeks, though.”
Kageyama watches him wide-eyed. He’s stunned that Hinata’s able to tell him something like that without seeming more than slightly dejected about it. Abandoned by his own family? Kageyama can’t begin to imagine it.
“I’m sorry,” is all he can say.
”It’s okay. I just wish they had told me... Just knowing would’ve been nice.”
The guilt already on Kageyama’s mind burns through his veins, crippling his vocal chords and tearing his heart from his own body. Hinata stares at a glowing sign hanging above a restaurant across the street. The bus pulls up to the curb.
“I won’t abandon you, Hinata. I can’t promise you much else, but I can promise you that.” He says.
Hinata looks back up at him. There’s something hopeful glistening behind his eyes and Kageyama knows he’ll never be able to betray that look. He’ll make it work, he has to. He doesn’t have to fall in love, he just has to deal with it. He’s good at dealing with things.
***
When they finally get back to Kageyama’s small house, Kageyama’s mother is gone. She conveniently planned for Kageyama to visit the shelter the same day she would be leaving for a 3 month long business trip overseas, leaving the house empty for Kageyama and whatever omega he chose. It seemed unnecessary to him at first, but Kageyama’s relieved now that he’s got Hinata with him.
“My, um, bedroom is upstairs. I can show you.”
“Okay!” Hinata says cheerfully and bounds up the stairs without waiting for Kageyama.
“Hey, wait! Dumbass!”
Hinata’s splayed on his bed when he catches up. He probably figured out which room is his by the smell alone. Kageyama’s been told he has an unusually distinct and strong smell compared to other alphas. He wonders if Hinata has noticed yet. He wonders if it bothers Hinata. He wonders why he cares so much what Hinata will think.
Hugging one of Kageyama’s pillows to his chest, Hinata spends a long moment just sniffing the room, the blankets, the pillows, and looking around at what few so-called decorations Kageyama has.
“Woah! You like volleyball?! Do you play?” Hinata exclaims when his gaze finds one of his many volleyball posters on the wall.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Same! I played in middle school. I love volleyball! Can we play together?”
“Um, yeah. Sure.”
“Really? Let’s go right now!” Hinata springs up, still clutching the pillow, but Kageyama puts his hand out to stop him.
“No. It’s too late.”
“It’s not even dark out yet! We have time.”
Hinata’s being playful, Kageyama can tell, he knows Hinata purely has good intentions, and maybe on another day, Kageyama would find his enthusiasm heartening. But something sets him off. Kageyama grabs Hinata by the collar and shoves him against the wall.
“We’re not going. Did you hear me? I said we’re staying here tonight.” Kageyama’s words claw their way out of his mouth sounding more like a growl than anything else, and with a deep tone that he’s never heard himself use. He digs his fingers tighter into Hinata’s collar. Smoke? No, it just looks like smoke. A hazy fog clouds his eyes, only making him more irritated and a real growl erupt from his throat, and fuck, it’s too fucking hot in here.
Kageyama doesn’t realize what he’s done until the smell of anxiety-induced pheromones coming off of Hinata overpowers his senses. Kageyama lets go of him with an inaudible gasp. Hinata lets out a whine and hurries to the corner of the room farthest from Kageyama and where his bag is. Kageyama just stares at his hand.
That must’ve been the commanding alpha voice he learned about in class, a voice that’s so aggressive and low and primal that an omega doesn’t have a choice but to answer it. He remembers making a silent pledge never to use that voice. But he just did. And he wasn’t even aware of it.
“Hinata-” Kageyama turns toward him with an apology on his lips, but he stops dead when he sees him.
Hinata’s not doing anything special. He’s just sitting against the wall with a blue blanket wrapped over his shoulders that he must’ve brought with him from the shelter. His eyes are wide and the smell of nervousness in his pheromones is still prominent in Kageyama’s nose. What stops Kageyama, though, is the fucking urge he gets when he sees Hinata.
It’s a repulsive, desperate, aggressive urge, a feeling that’s so strong he can only ignore it by biting into his cheek until he tastes blood. He’s never wanted something more in his whole fucking life… To throw himself onto Hinata, strip him, kiss him, bite him, mount him, fuck him, mark him, fuck him some more. He knows this feeling vaguely. It’s the same way he feels during his ruts, only he’s never had someone to direct them at. Especially not an omega sitting just a few feet away from him.
How could he be so stupid? The anger, the lashing out, the heat. He should’ve realized his rut was starting so much earlier than now, and he should’ve warned Hinata before anything else.
He has to tear his eyes away from Hinata as he cups his face in his hands. This can’t be happening. Why does his rut have to come on the same fucking day he adopted Hinata? He’s not ready. Hinata’s not ready. Hinata…
Kageyama takes several deep breaths and expends every ounce of energy he has trying to keep the boiling in his stomach at bay. He releases more soothing pheromones, enough to fill the whole room and then some, until Hinata peeks his head out of his blanket. Kageyama keeps his hands where Hinata can see them as he takes cautious steps forward. Kneeling in front of Hinata, Kageyama extends a finger for him to sniff.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner. I’m not like other alphas, that’s why I adopted you. My ruts are worse than everyone else’s and they’re unpredictable and I can’t control my temper. I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry, Hinata.”
Hinata surprises him by leaning into his finger, scenting it against his neck. His pheromones don’t smell as panicked as they did just a moment ago.
“You smell good, Kageyama.” He says softly. “I knew you seemed different. Just don’t do that again, though.”
Kageyama can’t believe how nonchalant Hinata sounds now. He even says the last part in a sort of sarcastic way, a light-hearted way, like Kageyama’s explanation was all he needed to let it go. It makes Kageyama’s heart swell with emotions he’s never felt before. The feeling is sort of frightening at first, but a look into Hinata’s eyes is all he needs to calm himself.
And then, he feels even more heat surging beneath his waistband and the familiar feeling of his dick pressing up against his stomach. His rut seems like it’s going to be worse than usual this time.
__
If this situation was anywhere near normal, Kageyama would be embarrassed about his conspicuously hard dick bulging through his jeans as he kneels in front of the omega he met just this afternoon. But he doesn’t have the capacity to care about it when it’s taking all of his focus just to restrain himself from fucking Hinata right here and right now. He covers his nose with his hand, trying to block that fucking deliciously sweet smell radiating off of Hinata like smoke from a fire, and stands up.
“I-I’m gonna let you… Have s-some alone time.” Kageyama manages to say through his hand. He all but runs out of his bedroom door, focused solely on getting away from Hinata before he does something he regrets. But Hinata’s voice stops him.
“Are you… Did your rut just start?” He asks.
Kageyama looks back at him over his shoulder. Hinata’s caramel eyes sparkle with something like curiosity as they focus on the rising tent in his pants, probably dark with the pre-cum Kageyama can feel dripping out of him already. That look alone is enough to spark a thousand fantasies in Kageyama’s thoughts, fantasies in which Hinata’s moaning, crying, screaming with his ass tight around Kageyama’s knot, fantasies that could be reality if he let his instincts take over. It’s so fucking tempting.
Hinata takes in a deep breath through his nose. His pupils seem to dilate and he pulls his blanket tighter around himself. A pitiful whimper escapes him involuntarily.
“You are.” Hinata’s voice cracks a little as he answers his own question.
Kageyama slams the door shut behind him, immediately regretting how loud of a sound it makes and worrying that it might’ve scared Hinata, but he shakes the thought away and hurries to the bathroom. Ripping his hoodie off, he splashes cold water all over his face, neck, shoulders. As if it will help. He grinds his teeth together to relieve some of the impulse to bite. There’s some blood trickling down his lip, probably from biting his elongated teeth into his lip without realizing it, when he looks up at himself in the mirror.
No wonder Hinata was frightened. Kageyama’s dark hair doesn’t necessarily look bad, but it’s sticking up in places and tousled in others, hanging over blue eyes dark with hunger. If his smell and attitude didn’t give his rut away, then his flushed cheeks should have.
He strips out of his jeans, desperate to escape the boiling heat in his blood, and pushes his briefs down just enough for his dick to spring up. All it takes is three pumps and Hinata’s face in his mind for his first orgasm to wash over him. The temporary relief it gives him only lasts under a minute, though, before his dick is throbbing hard again and begging for attention. Kageyama stuffs a washcloth in his mouth to give himself something to bite onto as he settles on the edge of the shower, dick in hand, preparing to ride out this rut without touching Hinata once. Not yet.
But no sooner does he start to hump into his fingers that he hears a loud cry echo through the house. It’s not a cry of pain nor is it exactly like a scream, but rather it’s a needy sound. A desperate sound. A sound an omega would make.
Kageyama freezes.
He doesn’t have to recognize the noise to know that it’s the sound of an omega crying out for an alpha, any alpha who hears it. It’s the sound of an omega in heat.
Fuck.
As if it wasn’t hard enough to control himself before, Kageyama’s a lost cause once he hears Hinata’s cry. He rushes out of the bathroom, down the hall, yanking his bedroom door open and giving up control to his instincts as he lets his nose guide him to the omega mewling on his bed.
Hinata already started nesting while Kageyama was out of the room. There’s a skeleton of a nest made up of his sheets, shirts ripped off hangers and torn from his dresser, hoodies, pillows, and even socks, all arranged in a clump on the mattress with Hinata curled into a ball and shirtless in the middle of it. Within a span of just a few minutes, Hinata had sweat profusely, leaving strands of hair damp against his forehead. His eyes are squeezed shut and mouth open as he pants and moans out all sorts of amazing noises.
The smell. The fucking smell. Kageyama feels drunk off that smell the moment he steps into his room. He doesn’t think he’s ever experienced something stronger than this heavenly scent that rushes into his nose and lungs, clouding his mind further with tangerine and pine and desire that pleads, Help me. Fuck me. Breed me. Fill me up. He always knew that the pheromones omegas in heat release are more potent than most everything, but he never really understood what that meant until now. A smell that completely and absolutely revokes his ability to think rationally, replacing it with an innate urge to give up everything for the omega before him.
Hinata must smell Kageyama before he sees him because he sits up in Kageyama’s direction with his eyes still shut. When he opens them, a few tears slide down his cheeks. Sniffing the air again, Hinata whimpers loudly at the smell of the alpha and tilts his head, presenting his smooth, unmarked neck to Kageyama.
“ Kageyama …” Hinata moans. “ Alpha … I w-wasn’t supposed to h-have my heat for another month… Your rut…. Must have t-triggered it…. Early…”
Hinata’s still in his shorts and underwear, but he falls forward onto his arms so that his ass is in the air, his neck still exposed for Kageyama. It’s the position an omega who is submitting completely takes when presenting for an alpha, Kageyama knows that. Something wet and sweet-smelling drips down Hinata’s thighs and onto the sheets, forcing another pitiful mewl from Hinata’s throat as he starts to pull his shorts off. Kageyama swallows.
“Please, alpha… Please… Your knot… I need it…” Hinata moans with obvious impatience in his voice. He slips his underwear off enough to reach back and push a finger against his entrance, but Kageyama is on top of him before he can.
Kageyama flips Hinata onto his back, ripping his shorts off and tossing them on the floor. For a moment filled with Hinata’s gasping and restless fingers against Kageyama’s torso, Kageyama rakes his eyes over every inch of Hinata. The neediness in his brown eyes, the heat reddening his face, the saliva on his pink lips and tongue, the silky curls in his hair, the way his chest rises and falls with his moans, his dick hard against his soft stomach, the slick leaking out of him onto his legs.
As Kageyama presses their lips together for their first kiss, Hinata spreads his legs wide so their dicks touch, Kageyama’s being much bigger than Hinata’s and eliciting an especially loud whimper from the omega. Hinata’s fingers find Kageyama’s hair, but he lets go when Kageyama growls at him for pulling too hard. Kageyama nearly gets distracted from their messy kissing as he realizes that his growl was in the same tone of voice that he used earlier, that distinctly alpha voice, but in this moment, he doesn’t care. In fact, he likes it. He likes being able to make Hinata do whatever he wants with just his voice.
When he feels Hinata reaching for his entrance once more, Kageyama tries the voice again.
“Don’t touch yourself. Only I can do that,” He growls.
Hinata whines at the aggressive tone, but he has no choice other than to drop his hands to his side and dig his fingers into the sheets. A sort of pride fueled by dominance swells inside Kageyama’s chest.
Kageyama pulls away from the kiss, letting his lips brush against Hinata’s jaw down to the perfect skin on his neck and the sensitive spot where his scent glands exude that incredible smell. He nips at it experimentally. Hinata lets out a moan that sounds more like a sob, his back arching up off the bed, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head. Kageyama bites harder on the spot, licking at it and letting his sharp teeth graze against it. Hinata squirms, but Kageyama holds him in place by thrusting his hips down and bringing his hand to his neck to stop Hinata from moving away.
Kageyama keeps nipping at his scent glands until Hinata is a quivering mess beneath him.
“ Please ,” Hinata begs again. “ Please… Alpha, p-please breed me. Please knot m-me. ”
He struggles under Kageyama’s body, crawling shakily back onto his stomach, trying to raise his ass up for Kageyama to see and presenting the unbonded place on his neck once again in complete submission. Kageyama moves back and takes in the sight. Seeing Hinata presenting like this causes another growl to rumble in the back of his throat.
His gaze falls on the sweet slick flowing out of Hinata’s entrance, much more of it now, and he runs his tongue up the back of Hinata’s thigh to taste it. It’s as delicious as it smells. Kageyama licks up all the slick running down his legs, relishing in how frustrated Hinata sounds as he continues to beg to be bred, to be filled up. Kageyama feels his own hips bucking forward on their accord, trying to fit into the needy omega.
He positions himself on his knees behind Hinata. Pushing Hinata’s hips down, Kageyama fits his hand around the back of his neck and sinks his other hand into the flesh of his waist, pulling him back roughly. He doesn’t bother to prep him; there’s enough slick at his entrance to take Kageyama’s dick raw and their instincts won’t let them think about anything else.
Kageyama pushes into Hinata fully with a sharp thrust. Both of them moan at the feeling, at the pure relief that surges through their bodies. Hinata’s pheromones somehow become even stronger now that there’s an alpha inside of him, the smell triggers Kageyama to pull out and pound into him again, harder and faster, and again. Kageyama drapes his body over the omega’s and places his hands on either side. He forces Hinata down as his hips move on pure instinct.
Humping into pillows and hands and clothes scented by omegas he didn’t even know; this is infinitely better than any and every rut he’s ever had before. More than infinitely. A term for that doesn’t exist and that in itself describes how satisfied Kageyama feels now that he’s deep inside an omega, every primal urge and desire being satiated at once. His omega.
Hinata cums after the first thrust, and his orgasm doesn’t let up as Kageyama continues to pound into him. It doesn’t take long for Kageyama to feel his knot beginning to form at the end of his dick. Hinata feels it, too, and he whimpers and stretches his neck as much as he can to present the unmarked skin to Kageyama, overwhelming the alpha with a new kind of urge he hasn’t felt before. Suddenly the only thing in the whole world is that pretty spot on Hinata’s neck.
Kageyama’s hips stutter as his knot locks them together and fills Hinata’s stomach with more cum than Kageyama thinks he’s ever felt come out of him. Kageyama jerks forward. He sinks his teeth into Hinata’s exposed neck. Hinata cries out, mewling loud enough that the neighbors might be able to hear it, and arches his back.
For several minutes, they stay like this, with Kageyama’s teeth latched onto Hinata’s neck and his dick perpetually pumping Hinata with cum. Kageyama lets go and laps up the blood on the mark. Hinata collapses beneath him.
His doctor told Kageyama that his knot might last longer than other alphas, too, and he realizes that his doctor was right when fifteen minutes pass and they’re still stuck together. Every few minutes, Kageyama’s hips buck forward a little as a new surge of cum empties inside the omega.
Once he finally deflates, he lies down next to Hinata. To his surprise, Hinata nudges his way under Kageyama’s arm to snuggle close to him. Kageyama holds his breath and stays still. Now that his rut is satisfied for the time being, regret and guilt and worry seep into his mind as he reflects over the last hour. Using his alpha voice, being rough with him, he starts to feel awful about it all even if it’s the whole reason he adopted Hinata to begin with. But Hinata speaks before he can voice any of his concerns.
“Thank you.”
Kageyama doesn’t know what to say.
“Thank you for adopting me. I’ve never had someone to help me through my heats before. I’m glad that I have you now. And I’m glad you bit me. That we’re bonded. I don’t know you very well yet, but I think I’m glad you’re my alpha. Kageyama Tobio is my alpha. Yeah, I like how that sounds.”
“I’m… I’m sorry I was rough with you.” Kageyama says. It’s the only thing he can think to say.
“It’s okay. I liked it.”
Hinata is always so blunt. Kageyama’s relieved, though, even a little happy about it.
“I’ve never had someone to- to help me, either. It’s nice to have you. Hinata. So thanks.”
“You sound so awkward sometimes.”
“W-What? What does that mean? You only met me today.” Kageyama blurts. He’s blushing and he hopes Hinata can’t see it, because he sort of knows that he’s right. Fuck. Who is he? How does he manage to piss Kageyama off and be the cutest boy he’s ever seen at the same time?
Hinata cuddles closer, scenting him a bit.
“Baka Kageyama… Like Bakageyama. That has a nice ring to it.”
Kageyama grinds his teeth together. He can’t think of a creative comeback.
“D-Dumbass.”
He wraps his arms around Hinata and pulls him tighter. No, he really can’t imagine abandoning him. No matter what his mother says. Hinata is his now.
The rest of the week is a blur of pheromones and neediness and sex. Kageyama stays home from school like he usually does during his ruts. It’s a good thing because his uniform is being used in Hinata’s nest and he doesn’t get much sleep between being woken up in the middle of the night by Hinata humping into his leg, and waking up Hinata at the crack of dawn with his dick already inside him. They scent one another so much that the entire house smells like a combination of Hinata’s sweet smell mingling with Kageyama’s dark one.
It’s better than anything Kageyama could imagine. It’s perfect. Hinata is perfect.
Hinata is more than perfect even though Kageyama can’t yet figure out why.
__
Kageyama wakes to the feeling of gentle sheets on his skin and air smelling of springtime and honeysuckles floating through his open window. His senses are always heightened the day after his rut.
Four days. This time, his rut lasted four days. He still can’t say it was comfortable, with constant tightness in his pants and all sorts of impulses he didn’t fully understand that made him want to do things to his omega, but it was the most bearable one he’s ever gone through. Because of Hinata.
Kageyama has a brief moment of panic when he can’t feel Hinata’s warmth beside him, but he opens his eyes to find Hinata curled on his blue blanket in the corner of the room. He has one of Kageyama’s ties around his neck, connected to one of the knobs on his dresser so that it applies pressure around his throat. Right, Kageyama remembers learning something about that in class, that omegas like their space following their heats and tight things around their neck helps relieve stress.
Hinata is still a stranger to him. While they’ve been living together for a little under a week, not much of that time was spent talking. All he knows is that Hinata’s family is from Tokyo, they abandoned him three months, two weeks, and six days ago (Hinata pretends to be unbothered even though he’s keeping track), and he really likes dogs, volleyball, and pork buns.
Now that his rut is over, the reality that Hinata has his bond mark on his neck finally sets in as Kageyama watches him sleep. It was inevitable, really, that he would succumb to the innate need to mark the omega as his. What makes Kageyama uneasy is how content he feels about it, though. Shouldn’t he have more reservations about biting an omega he just met and who his mother expects him to abandon in a few short years? He feels like he should, he thinks he shouldn’t feel so fucking complete gazing at that reddish indent on Hinata’s skin.
Kageyama’s head was solely filled with instincts ruled by the desire to breed the omega before. That was the only thought in his head during the last four days. But now that his vision is clear and body satisfied and rationality restored, there’s a new instinct nudging its way to the forefront of his mind. Protect .
It’s like he has a new mission in his life - to protect Hinata. Protect Hinata and nothing else.
He can taste a quiet growl in the back of his throat just at the thought of another alpha even looking at Hinata. They’re alone and they’ve been alone, the neighbors are even betas, but Kageyama feels jealousy bubbling in his chest. Over nothing. He restrains himself from scooping up Hinata in his arms and sinking his teeth into his bond mark again, making sure it never fades, making sure no alpha will ever challenge his breeding rights with the omega.
Getting out of bed carefully to avoid making any noise, Kageyama kneels a few feet away from Hinata and releases gentle pheromones. Hinata’s nose twitches at the smell, his pretty eyes sliding open. He yawns with a whine.
“Good morning.” Kageyama says softly.
“Mmmm, morning.” Hinata’s still sleepy, exhausted from his heat.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, I’ll go make breakfast.”
“What are you making?”
Kageyama blushes. He hadn’t exactly thought about that yet.
“You’ll like it.”
“What is it?”
“Just wait here.”
He grabs a black t-shirt from his closet and closes the bedroom door as he heads down to the kitchen, brainstorming what food will make Hinata the happiest. Whatever makes Hinata the happiest. He hears Hinata mutter Bakageyama behind him. Despite just meeting, the omega hasn’t hesitated to tease Kageyama once. It pisses Kageyama off. It also makes Kageyama’s chest feel tight with adoration.
When he returns with soup and rice and some grilled fish about thirty minutes later, Hinata is on his back tossing a volleyball up and down.
“Where’d you find that?” Kageyama asks.
“Under your bed.”
Of course.
“Oooh, food!” Hinata pushes himself up onto his knees and licks his lips, he’s always licking his lips, but he moves a bit too quickly. A whimper escapes him as he winces, touching his bond mark.
Kageyama nearly drops the plate. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. It just stings a little.” Hinata rubs at the spot. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Can I help? How badly does it hurt?”
“I just told you, I’m fine! I’m hungry, though.”
Kageyama pours over every inch of Hinata, cursing himself in his head for biting too hard, and tries to control his concerned pheromones so as to not make Hinata anxious. “R-Right. Here.” He pushes the rice towards him.
They eat in silence for a few minutes until Hinata puts his chopsticks down.
“Kageyama.”
“Hm?”
“Stop worrying. I’m okay. It’ll heal.”
“I-I’m not worrying.”
“That’s a lie.” Hinata crosses his arms.
He looks so cute.
“N-No, it isn’t.”
“Do you regret bonding me or something?”
“No.” The word explodes from Kageyama’s mouth before he can think about it. “No. I don’t regret bonding you. I’ll never regret bonding you.”
“Good. Me neither.”
Hinata scoops more rice into his mouth than he can chew.
As Kageyama cleans their dishes in the kitchen sink, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He hasn’t checked his phone since he texted his mother about Hinata the day he adopted. Oh, it’s a text from his mother.
Don’t forget you have school today ~
Shit.
Kageyama almost forgets to shut off the faucet as he rushes around for his things, grabbing his bag and praying that he remembered to do his homework, stuffing his phone and some snacks into it. He rushes upstairs, but his instincts tell him to calm down for Hinata before he enters the bedroom. He releases some more calming pheromones for safe measure as he pulls the door open and looks around for his uniform.
“Kageyama?” Hinata sits up on his blanket. “Are you going somewhere?”
“School. I don’t have any more excused absences this month. The school must’ve called my mother or something, I would’ve forgotten but she just texted me.” He shakes out his shirt to try to get some of the wrinkles out and pulls it over his head, already reaching for his pants.
Hinata’s soft mewl jerks his attention towards the omega.
“Hinata? What is it?” Kageyama crouches down, extending his hand. Hinata rubs his cheek against it.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
Hinata looks up at him with eyes full of caramel and pity, and fuck, that just melts Kageyama’s heart.
“Here,” Kageyama points to his blanket. Hinata hesitates but hands it to him. Rubbing it along his neck, Kageyama scents it with as strong of his smell as he can and kisses it before giving it back to him.
Hinata sniffs at it, whining a little, and throws himself over Kageyama’s shoulders before he can react.
“What are you-”
Hinata scents Kageyama’s neck, hair, uniform, everything, and Kageyama lets him even though it’s the stupidest fucking thing he’s ever done when he’s about to leave. Well, it’s not like he doesn’t already smell like him. He growls protectively and pulls Hinata tight, nipping at his scent glands and licking over the bond mark. They hold onto each other for so long that Kageyama’s sure he’ll be late. He doesn’t care.
***
Needless to say, a lot of heads turn as Kageyama walks to class. He knows he must absolutely reek of omega, and not just any omega, a bonded omega, and the only reason he would smell like a bonded omega is if he marked one himself. A few of his classmates whistle at him, ask him what happened during the week he was absent. He blushes but stays silent.
At lunch, he drinks his milk outside where no one else is sitting.
It’s not so much his nameless classmates that he’s worried about more than it is his teammates. He knows they’ll give him shit. They’ll give him so much shit. He can imagine their faces, exactly what they’ll say to him and how they’ll react. The school day lasts a year yet it only lasts a few seconds.
Kageyama rushes to the clubroom as soon as the bell rings, hoping to get there before anyone else, and he’s lucky he does. He changes and sets up the net just as he smells Suga enter the gym, Daichi close behind.
Ignoring them and trying to channel his anxiety into something, Kageyama practices some serves. He misses every single one.
It seems like a long time before someone's voice startles him. Nishinoya.
“...Kageyama?”
Here we go.
__
He squeezes the volleyball in his hands until his fingertips turn white. With a deep breath in through his nose, deep enough that Hinata’s smell fills his lungs and provides a sliver of momentary therapy, Kageyama turns around.
He must’ve been really invested in his serve practice because he didn’t notice the group of onlookers gathering behind him, all with expressions ranging from confusion to excitement to disappointment written on their faces.
Nishinoya’s eyebrows are knitted tightly, maybe with an emotion comprised of all of the above, as he takes a hesitant step closer to Kageyama. He sticks out his neck a little and sniffs. A shiver rolls down his spine. Suddenly, he’s beaming and rushing towards Kageyama and jumping on his shoulders.
“Tobio! Why didn’t you tell us you got laid?!”
Kageyama stumbles back and clutches the volleyball closer to his chest, unable to process the sheer energy pouring out of Nishinoya, and fuck , now Tanaka’s on him, too.
“Hell yeah! When did that happen? You bastard!” Tanaka roars with laughter as he punches Kageyama’s shoulder. Kageyama’s speechless. He expected they would react like this, he knew they would, but it’s different when it’s actually happening rather than just playing out in his head. It’s overwhelming.
Asahi steps forward but only to watch Nishinoya with nervous eyes. He must be uneasy with how physical the omega is being with Kageyama, especially so soon after his rut. Kageyama wants to say something, to tell Asahi that he doesn’t have to worry about that anymore now that he’s got Hinata, but Kageyama can’t exactly form words just yet.
Asahi would never say it, but everyone on the team knows how protective he feels over Nishinoya ever since he started courting him last year. Nishinoya would never say it, but everyone on the team knows he’s only been playing hard-to-get because he likes how flustered Asahi looks sometimes. Kageyama wishes they would just hurry up and mark each other.
“Hey, Tanaka! Nishinoya! Leave Kageyama alone!” Daichi’s voice reverberates around the gym sounding more like a roar than anything else. It has a distinct edge to it that makes them all freeze. Daichi has a special effect on them all as team captain, and as an alpha. He glares at Tanaka and Nishinoya with his arms crossed and shadows under his eyelashes, and Suga shoots them his own disapproving look from behind Daichi. Those two are hopelessly infatuated with each other, too.
Kageyama hopes he’s never like that.
He wonders if he and Hinata would’ve ended up like that if Hinata had been from an elite family with money, like Suga and Nishinoya and Yamaguchi, and the ability to enroll at a school like Karasuno. Omegas are kept separate in class but are treated as equals. Sure they’re still relentlessly flirted with and have to take ridiculously strong suppressants, that’s inevitable, but they can do extracurriculars with the alphas and betas. They’re loved by their families, they have thousands of opportunities, they live with no wants or needs that go unattended to. He wonders if Hinata would like it here. Dumbass . He already knows the answer.
With an annoyed whine, Nishinoya hops off Kageyama’s shoulders and darts over to Asahi with his arms extended, giggling at the apparent panic that flashes over Asahi’s face. He only wraps his arms around Asahi’s waist, though, and Asahi can breathe again. Tanaka slaps Kageyama’s back, hard, before stalking off to stand near Ennoshita. The grin on his face makes Kageyama’s cheeks flush red. God, this is embarrassing.
“Go ahead, Kageyama.” Daichi nods at him.
Kageyama blinks.
“M-Me?”
“Aren’t you going to tell us?” Daichi sounds confused.
“Tell you w-what...”
Tsukishima had been maintaining his distance with Yamaguchi, leaning against the doorway of the gym, hands in his pockets, but he finally pipes in. “Oh please, don’t tell me you’re that stupid.”
Kageyama curls his fingers into fists. He bares his teeth and steps in Tsukishima’s direction, unusually angry for the period immediately following his rut, but Daichi shuts them both up with a barely audible growl. Kageyama channels his anger into squeezing the volleyball tighter instead.
“Isn’t it obvious?” He mutters, looking down at the blue and yellow grooves on the ball.
Tsukishima smirks. “Is the king embarrassed? That’s a first.”
Yamaguchi giggles a little at his side.
“Tsukishima,” Daichi warns.
Kageyama’s body is so stiff it feels like he’s going to break. “I… I bonded with an omega. That’s all there is to it.”
“His name! What’s his name!” Nishinoya yells again.
“Um, Hinata. Hinata Shoyo.”
“Where’d you meet?” Tanaka asks.
Shit.
That’s the one fucking question Kageyama would rather do anything than answer. Should he lie? Would they know? What if they find out? Do they already know? Is this some kind of test? If he throws up, he can leave early, and if he throws up right now, he doesn’t have to answer it. Kageyama decides that’s the only way out. Now all he has to do is figure out how to get sick…
“You adopted him, right, Kageyama?” Suga’s feathery voice drops like a bomb.
They’re all silent for a moment, but Kageyama can almost hear their thoughts, hear their reactions and questions and remarks. That’s how it feels, at least.
“H-How did you know?”
“It’s obvious.” Nishinoya says.
“Yeah.” Yamaguchi agrees.
Nishinoya? Suga? Even Yamaguchi? How did they…
“Omegas from shelters have a specific smell. Only other omegas are able to tell, though. But still, Hinata must have scented you a lot. ” Suga smiles as he explains. It’s not a snarky smile whatsoever, but rather it’s a knowing one, lacking any judgement and filled with understanding. Of course Suga would catch on. Of course he would be kind about all of this. Kageyama should have told him first.
“Yeah, you reek.” Nishinoya adds.
“It’s not my fault…” Kageyama’s blushing even brighter now.
“Oh, so you adopted him! That’s cool! What’s he like?” Tanaka asks.
“I wouldn’t mind meeting him.” Asahi says, rubbing the back of his head.
“Hopefully the king will stop missing so much practice now.” Tsukishima sighs with some sarcasm dripping off his words, but there’s also some sincerity.
Daichi smiles and clasps his hands together. “Congratulations, Kageyama.”
Kageyama stands still.
They don’t care. And not just that, they’re supportive. All of them. All of that worrying in class, during lunch, in the hallways, it was all pointless. It wasn’t like it was going to be a surprise, either, since they all knew about his abnormal ruts and his mother’s nagging. He sort of feels guilty for even doubting them. A small smile finds its way onto Kageyama’s red face.
He wishes Hinata could be a part of this.
Practice makes Kageyama feel more like himself again. He feels like he’s getting along with his teammates better, too, even Tsukishima. He’s always been a little too aggressive, a little too controlling in essentially every aspect of his life, but now it’s like he’s calmer after bonding with Hinata. That’s what Daichi says, anyway.
Hinata. All this talk of Hinata makes Kageyama miss him. Fuck, he really misses him. Hinata. Kageyama tries to imagine what those caramel eyes are looking at right now, what those pretty fingers are feeling, what thoughts are on his mind. Kageyama hopes some of those thoughts are about him. Hinata.
He’s sure Tsukishima makes some snide remark while Kageyama rushes to change and gather his things, how he drinks in Hinata’s scent from his uniform before putting it on, but he couldn’t care less. But just as he’s heading outside, Suga pulls him aside.
“If you ever have any questions, about Hinata or about omegas, just let me know. You did a good thing, Kageyama. Most of the alphas who adopt omegas don’t exactly… Well, they don’t always have the best intentions. Do you understand what I mean?”
Kageyama nods.
He doesn’t like thinking about another alpha anywhere near Hinata, let alone an alpha doing those unspeakable things to him. His body moves a fraction of an inch closer to the door on its own accord. Hinata…
“Good. And if you want to skip some practices over the next few weeks, I know Daichi will understand.” Suga touches his own bond mark, lost in a memory. “It’s hard to be apart when you’re newly bonded. Daichi was the worst, God. We couldn’t be apart for almost six months. Anyway, go on home to him. To Hinata.” Suga places a gentle hand on Kageyama’s shoulder, smiling his sweet smile.
Kageyama walks out of the gym and onto the sidewalk, but then he’s running, sprinting towards his house, towards Hinata, as if he’ll fucking die unless he gets there in the next fucking minute. He turns onto his street finally, all sorts of feelings and urges burning in his chest now that he’s within his omega’s vicinity. But something’s wrong.
The gate in front of Kageyama’s driveway is open.
And there’s a smell. A gross, musky smell. The smell of an alpha… An alpha who isn’t Kageyama.
__
Kageyama has struggled with impulse control since he was a child. He got in trouble in middle school for breaking his pencils and having a temper, a temper that only got worse when he presented. When his classmates would chew too loudly, when people would whisper during a movie, all sorts of little things would set him off. But this anger… This fury. Nothing compares to this heat in his veins and blood in his mouth and pure dizzying rage making blackness tease the edges of his vision. He all but tears the front door open.
Oh, God, the fucking stench inside the house, inside his house. Kageyama could vomit. In reality, the smell isn’t particularly strong amidst Hinata’s and Kageyama’s mingling pheromones, but any trace of it is too much. Hinata’s scent is stronger than it was this morning, Kageyama notices, as if he scented every piece of furniture while Kageyama was at school. He probably did.
A growl rips out of Kageyama’s throat as he realizes the other alpha’s smell is leading upstairs… Up to his bedroom. Pheromones smelling of dominance, of possessiveness, screaming Mine , pour out of Kageyama and flood the stairwell. His teeth prick his tongue, already elongated. He rushes into his bedroom.
The alpha looks a little older than Kageyama, maybe a second-year or a third-year. He’s tall and athletically built, with dark eyes and a smirk etched into his lips, one hand shoved in his jacket pocket, and the other… Cupping Hinata’s terrified face. Hinata’s shirt hangs off his shoulders ripped in some places as he stands with his back pressed against the wall. The other boy has his leg hitched up so that his knee digs into the wall beside Hinata, caging him in. Even without the tears streaming down Hinata’s cheeks and the fear in his eyes, the overwhelming panic in his scent would be obvious to anyone.
Hinata notices Kageyama in the doorway a split moment before the other alpha does. He has just enough time to whisper, “Alpha…” through his cries before Kageyama charges forward and swings.
The sound Kageyama’s fist makes with the boy’s face is as agonizing as it feels against Kageyama’s knuckles, but he ignores the pain. The boy stumbles back, too stunned to resist when Kageyama pushes him onto his back and punches him again on his other cheek. Kageyama straddles him, his teeth bared and spit flying out of his mouth as a roar rips itself from his throat.
“Mine."
It’s the only thought on his mind.
The other alpha growls back at him, but it sounds pitiful compared to the audible rage in Kageyama’s voice. As he tries to dig his fingernails into Kageyama’s face, he squirms beneath him, enough to push Kageyama off somewhat but not before Kageyama sinks his teeth into his hand.
The boy cries out, desperately trying to pull his arm away but only inflicting more pain to himself and causes more blood to drip onto the floor. He scratches Kageyama’s neck with his free hand, kicks into his shin, roars so loudly that a shiver travels up Hinata’s spine. Even still, Kageyama doesn’t let go.
Kageyama’s vision is filled with splotches black and red, mingling with the sounds of the other alpha’s growls and the smells of blood and terror and sweat. He can’t feel anything. His body is numb with the ecstasy of losing control, and fuck , it feels so fucking good…
“K-Kageyama?” Hinata whimpers.
He crashes back into reality.
“You c-can let go now… I don’t think he’s going to fight anymore.”
Kageyama was so lost in instinct that he hadn’t noticed when the boy’s growls turned into whines, his body falling limp in submission. He lets go.
The other alpha stumbles out of the room and out of the house before Kageyama blinks. He doesn’t blink for a while, just stares at the blood on his hands. He flinches when Hinata wraps his arms around him.
“Kageyama?”
“Y-Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“For w-what?”
“You saved me.”
And with that, any regret Kageyama feels over losing too much control or being too violent or too cruel evaporates, because if it’s for Hinata, it was necessary. For Hinata, he’ll do anything. Anything.
“You saved me, too.” Kageyama blurts.
“No, I didn’t.” Hinata sounds confused.
“Never mind.”
Kageyama doesn’t let go of Hinata as he cleans himself up in the bathroom, wipes up the blood in their bedroom, locks the doors and windows, changes the sheets for good measure, changes them again, finds them both clean clothes, and scents Hinata four times. He’s not satisfied until all signs of the other alpha are gone.
“I missed you a lot today.” Hinata says into Kageyama’s chest as they hold each other on his bed. “I got anxious so I scented a bunch of stuff. Then I took a nap, but I woke up and there was that alpha,” Kageyama squeezes him tighter, “and I told him I was bonded, I showed him our bond mark, but he said that didn’t matter. He tried to take my shirt off…” Hinata shivers, “But I didn’t let him. I think he was on his rut or something. He said he smelled my heat. I guess it still smells like it even though it ended yesterday.”
Kageyama kisses the top of Hinata’s head, drinking in the smell that is his and only his.
“I shouldn’t have left you here alone. I should’ve stayed with you. If I had just fucking stayed home, he wouldn’t have-”
Hinata cuts him off. “Don’t blame yourself, Kageyama. You saved me.”
“But he- he touched you. He put his hands on you. He fucking scented you.”
“Kageyama.” Hinata sits up to look at him. Those caramel eyes are going to be the death of him, Kageyama knows it. “I’m yours. I’m never going to be anyone else’s. You’re my only alpha. Kageyama Tobio is my alpha. I like how that sounds even more now.”
A protective growl rumbles on Kageyama’s tongue. He likes how it sounds, too. A lot.
Pushing Hinata down, he repositions himself on top of his omega and wraps his hands around Hinata’s wrists as their lips collide. Hinata whimpers into the kiss, moans a little. Kageyama loves that fucking sound. He forces his tongue into Hinata’s mouth, tasting him and relishing in how familiar the curve of Hinata’s tongue feels against his own. He loves that fucking taste.
He pulls away despite Hinata’s disappointed whine and plants gentle kisses on his forehead, nose, cheeks, and his jaw, until his lips find their bond mark. It’s still sensitive and Hinata drops his head back with a moan as Kageyama begins to lick at it. He can’t help but fit his teeth into the mark, pride bubbling in himself at how perfectly his teeth feel against Hinata’s skin, especially since they’re still sharp. He really can’t help it.
Hinata digs his fingernails into Kageyama’s back as Kageyama sinks down into their bond mark for the second time. It bleeds a little and it hurts, he knows it hurts Hinata, but he also knows Hinata loves the pleasure it gives them both as much as he does. While his teeth press into the mark, Hinata places his own sweet kisses in the crook of Kageyama’s neck. He had left his own small mark on Kageyama’s shoulder during his heat, but bond marks left by omegas aren’t as prominent as the ones left by alphas. Still, he bites into. Kageyama shudders at the feeling and pulls Hinata closer.
“You’re all mine.” Kageyama says.
“I’m all yours.” Hinata blushes.
While they eat dinner that evening, their hands still intertwined, Kageyama calls his mother. It’s a long conversation filled with bickering and negotiating and occasional kisses (because Kageyama can’t go more than three minutes without kissing Hinata), but Kageyama has a smile when he hangs up.
“You’re coming to school with me.” He says triumphantly.
Hinata leaps up. “Really?! I’m going to school?!”
“Yes. My mother is going to enroll you.”
Hinata’s expression is absolutely priceless, the way his eyes light up and twinkle and his cheeks get all red and scrunched with excitement, and he throws himself over Kageyama.
“Wait!” He stops for a moment.
“What is it?” Kageyama asks.
“Your school has a volleyball team, right?”
“Yes.”
“Does that mean I can play? Can I play on your team? Can I, Kageyama? Please?”
Kageyama can’t believe he ever hesitated about going to the shelter. It was the best decision he’s ever made.
Hinata was the best decision he’s ever made.
“Yes, you can.”
__
Daichi and Suga exchange glances.
Rocking his weight onto one leg and putting uneasy hands on his hips, Suga clears his throat. “Are you really sure this is a good-”
Kageyama bows his head as he interrupts him. “I’m sure. Please. He’s worth it.”
“I mean, it’s already the middle of the school year, so-” Daichi starts.
“He won’t get in the way.”
“He could get in the way of your performance, though.” Suga says.
“That’s true, we can’t have our star setter at anything but his best.” Daichi nods, crossing his arms.
Kageyama tightens his arms at his sides and bows his entire body forward. Suga and Daichi look at one another again. Daichi swallows. Suga raises his eyebrows.
"Please."
Kageyama’s really not going to change his mind.
“Okay. Fine.” Daichi says after a moment.
Kageyama jolts up, his eyes shining blue with hope, searching the captain’s face as if he can’t believe what he just said.
“Daichi…” Suga leans into him softly, disagreement in his tone.
Daichi ignores him. He meets Kageyama’s eyes with something like a warning in his gaze. “Hinata can join the team. But only on the condition that if he proves to be a distraction for you, he’ll have to quit. I think that’s plenty fair.”
Kageyama swallows and nods.
“Thank you.” He bows again. “I’m positive that we’ll be fine.”
“When’s his first day?” Daichi asks.
“He starts in a little under a month.”
Suga tilts his head. “That makes sense. It took them forever to file all my paperwork when I enrolled here. They take a lot of precautions when it comes to omegas. Oh, he’ll probably be in Yamaguchi’s class!”
Kageyama looks back at the freckled boy practicing his serves with Tsukishima standing close behind him. They’re going to bond during Yamaguchi’s next heat. Even still, a pang of possessiveness tugs at Kageyama’s chest at the thought of Hinata being so close to other alphas, alphas like Tsukishima and Daichi and Asahi and Tanaka and Kiyoko…. He shakes his head. It’ll be fine. And if it’s not, he won’t hesitate to protect what is his.
“I’m sure they’ll get along great.” Daichi wraps his arm around Suga’s shoulder and pulls him in. Kageyama nods.
After his mother agreed to enroll Hinata last night, Kageyama came into practice today prepared to argue as much was necessary to get the captain to let Hinata join the team. He couldn’t fathom disappointing the look on his omega’s face, that overwhelming happiness over something Kageyama has taken for granted his whole life. Daichi and Suga were more lenient than he thought they would be, though, and all it took was a five minute conversation to secure Hinata a place on the team.
Kageyama leaves a few minutes early from practice. No one questions it.
He runs home again, a bit quicker than he did yesterday, and he only feels like he can breathe when he sees the gate in front of his driveway closed and locked like it should be. The front door is locked, too.
When Hinata answers it, he’s wearing one of Kageyama’s old t-shirts (it’s a faded blue color and it’s too big and the sleeves swallow his arms up and it hangs off his body almost like a dress) and he’s not wearing pants, just boxer-briefs. There’s a hair tie holding a clump of orange curls on the top of his head, though it’s not very effective, and there’s a rice ball in his mouth. It’s the cutest thing Kageyama’s ever seen.
“Hi!" Hinata mumbles in between bites, but Kageyama’s not listening because he’s kicking the door closed behind him and throwing his stuff down and scooping up his omega and burying his face in his neck.
“ Kageyama …” Hinata breathes.
He double checks that their bond mark is still prominent on Hinata’s neck, even though it won’t fade for the rest of Hinata’s life and Kageyama knows that. Like always, he nips at it a little just to hear the moan Hinata can’t help but choke out.
“I can’t wait for you to join the team.” Kageyama says smiling. “I can’t wait until I don’t have to leave you at home during the day.”
“It’s not that bad. I watched TV and I practiced some volleyball and I ate a lot. Oh, I rearranged your room, too. Don’t be mad, Bakageyama. I also scented everything again. And all your clothes.”
“Dumbass.” Kageyama whispers. He’s not surprised.
Hinata wraps his legs around Kageyama’s waist and his arms around Kageyama’s shoulders as he finishes his rice ball. Kageyama walks into the kitchen, cleaning up some of Hinata’s many dishes in the sink, not caring that there’s a boy clinging to him as he does so. He nudges Hinata’s neck with his nose when he’s finished. As Hinata raises his head to look at him, he presses their lips together. His lips taste soft and sweet. They always do.
They maintain this routine for the next three and half weeks. Kageyama goes to school, Hinata locks the doors and stays home and practices volleyball and watches TV and eats, Kageyama goes to practice, Kageyama comes home, they kiss and snuggle until Kageyama remembers he has homework, they eat dinner, they kiss more, and Hinata either sleeps in Kageyama’s arms or in his collar attached to the wall depending on what he’s in the mood for.
Hinata started suppressants seven days before his first day in accordance with the school’s guidelines. At least, Kageyama thought he did.
And finally when the morning comes, the morning of Hinata’s first day of high school, the morning of the first day of his new life, Hinata’s bouncing all over Kageyama an hour before the alarm is even scheduled to go off.
Kageyama groans.
Hinata spends a long time in front of the mirror deciding what he wants to wear under his uniform (the coolest uniform he’s ever seen, according to him) and ruffling his hair in just the right way (because he wants to have a good first impression on everybody) while Kageyama prepares them a small breakfast. Kageyama never really cared one way or another about the school uniform, but he’s glad he chose Karasuno once he sees his omega dressed in it. Hinata looks fucking adorable.
While they eat, Hinata bounces in his seat and asks questions in between mouthfuls.
“What are your teachers like?”
“They’re fine.”
“What about the students? Are they nice?”
“They’re nice.”
“And the gym? What’s the gym like? Does the volleyball team have their own gym?”
“Yeah. It’s nice.”
“Bakageyama.”
“W-What?”
“You’re terrible at answering questions.”
“No, I’m not. Maybe your questions are just bad.”
“Yeah right.”
Hinata sticks out his tongue.
Kageyama grinds his teeth together.
Then, they both smile at each other.
***
The moment they step into the building later that morning, they scent each other and nuzzle a little awkwardly before Hinata’s escorted away by two girls from the first-year omega class. Kageyama is left staring after him feeling much more distraught about having to leave his side than he thought he would be.
Kageyama worries about Hinata all day. Will they judge him for being from a shelter? What if he gets teased? The alphas are kept separate, but what if some douchebag tries to make a move anyway?
At one point, Kageyama’s so lost in hypotheticals that he growls unconsciously. He doesn’t realize it until he notices his classmates, even his teacher, staring at him. The blush doesn’t leave his face until lunch.
Finally, class is finally over, and Kageyama finally shoves his way somewhat frantically through the hallway towards the omega wing of the school. He has to wait in a special room, of course, as his eyes pour over all of the omegas walking out of the building until he spots that mass of orange hair in the crowd. Yamaguchi is at his side.
Yamaguchi waves at him and then Hinata waves at him, too, his whole face lighting up so enthusiastically that Kageyama doesn’t feel worthy of being the person that makes Hinata smile like that.
“Kageyama! I met your friend Yamaguchi! He’s really nice!” Hinata yells as he leaps up into Kageyama’s arms.
“I-I see.” Kageyama says. He does a thorough examination of Hinata’s scent and clothes and skin and bond mark, making sure he smells like Kageyama and only Kageyama. He does. Kageyama sighs.
“Don’t worry. I was only with omegas all day. Mostly Yamaguchi.”
Yamaguchi’s freckled cheeks get a little red. “I just invited him to sit next to me when I realized he was your mate.”
“Yeah! I didn’t know your team had a pinch server! That’s so cool!” Hinata climbs down and wraps his hand around Kageyama’s.
“Haha, well, I’m not that good.” Yamaguchi says.
“I’m sure you are!” Hinata beams up at Yamaguchi.
As the three of them enter the gym, Kageyama squeezes Hinata’s hand tighter. Daichi is practicing with Suga and Asahi, and Tanaka is laughing with Nishinoya while Tsukki smirks about how stupid they’re acting, and Kiyoko is setting up some chairs. They all freeze when they see Hinata.
No matter how excited Hinata was about joining the team, Kageyama can detect the slightest bit of nervousness tainting his pheromones now that they’re here. His fingers tingle in Kageyama’s hand and he takes a step backwards, back behind Kageyama so it’s just his head peeking out. Stepping forward with his arms extended, Suga addresses Hinata first.
“It’s Hinata Shoyo, right?” Suga asks, with a special kind of velvet in his voice that Kageyama assumes he must be doing on purpose. It’s relaxing.
Hinata sniffs the air (something Kageyama realized he always does when meeting new people) and nods. He seems a bit calmer already. Suga must be emitting some kind of calming omega pheromone the alphas can’t smell because Yamaguchi seems to relax after a moment, as well.
“I’m Sugawara Koushi. I’m a third-year.”
“N-Nice to meet you.” Hinata says quietly. He takes a small step towards Suga, grabbing onto Kageyama’s jacket with his free hand. “I’m a first-year.”
“We know.” Tsukishima says, but he doesn’t have his usual sarcastic tone. He sounds almost kind. Welcoming. Still, Kageyama has to suppress a growl.
“Are you Yamaguchi’s alpha?” Hinata asks.
Tsukishima cocks his head. “Yeah, I am.”
“I thought so. He smells like you.”
The team watches Hinata closely, shocked at his bluntness, just like Kageyama was. Kageyama smiles down at his omega and traces shapes into his hand with his thumb. He releases his own pheromones to help Hinata settle down more.
“I’m the captain. Daichi Sawamura. Sugawara is my mate.” Daichi finally says. “It’s great to have you joining the team.”
“Hi! I’m Nishinoya Yuu. Second-year. I’m the libero.” Nishinoya walks right up to Hinata with a grin. Hinata lights up at the other omega.
“Really? That’s amazing!”
“I know, right?!” Nishinoya laughs.
There’s an immediate and noticeable shift among the team. Any and all tension is lifted from the room. Kageyama hadn’t realized how on-edge everyone was with the presence of a new omega, but all it took was Nishinoya to make them all feel better. As usual.
“And don’t forget about your new senpai!” Tanaka puts his hand on Nishinoya’s shoulder. “I’m Tanaka Ryuunosuke, a second-year.”
“And that’s Asahi! He’s a third-year. And the ace!” Nishinoya points over at Asahi. He’s standing the furthest away, probably trying to be respectful as the most physically intimidating alpha on the team. He gives Hinata a timid wave.
“It’s nice to meet you, Hinata. I’m Kiyoko Shimizu. I’m a third-year, as well.” Kiyoko says, stepping forward with a notebook in her hands.
Hinata goes quiet. For a moment, Kageyama worries that he’s overwhelmed after all, that they should’ve done this more gradually and maybe should’ve even waited a week or longer and maybe he’s uncomfortable with the other alphas, but when he looks down at his omega, Hinata’s whole face is smiling.
“I can’t wait to play volleyball with all of you!” He shouts.
Everyone agrees.
During practice, Hinata doesn’t do much other than watch them practice and tries (and frequently fails) to receive and serve and spike, although Kageyama notices that he has an affinity for spiking. Kageyama doesn’t make any mistakes even with his eyes on Hinata the whole time. If anything, he performed better than usual. Daichi and Suga sigh in unison and relief.
“How was your first day?” Kageyama asks on their way home. Hinata’s riding on his back and he has no complaints.
“It was amazing! Better than amazing! My teacher is super nice and Yamaguchi is super nice and all my classmates are nice, too. I have to do some make-up work for the stuff I missed at the beginning of the year, though. I’m bad at homework. You’ll probably have to help. But the volleyball team is the best part!”
Hinata raves about their teammates for most of the afternoon and evening, while they eat and even in bed later that night. Kageyama underestimated just how much Hinata loves volleyball. Hinata thinks Tanaka and Nishinoya are really cool and Asahi is super cool and Daichi is extra cool and so are Suga and Kiyoko and Yamaguchi and Tsukishima. Kageyama just listens to him, stroking his hair and kissing the top of his head every so often. He could listen to Hinata talk forever, about anything, about everything, and he’d never get bored.
The next day is a repeat. Hinata wakes up early, they eat, they go to school, they scent one another, they think about each other during class, and then Kageyama waits for him and Yamaguchi to go to club. But when Hinata holds Kageyama’s hand on the way to the gym, Kageyama can’t help but notice how hot his palm feels.
“Do you feel okay?” Kageyama asks.
Hinata nods, but his cheeks are definitely more flushed than usual. “Yeah. It’s just a little hot.”
Kageyama doesn’t question it. He doesn’t question it whatsoever until they’re in the middle of practice and all of a sudden the gym smells absolutely fucking mouth-watering. Like the best fucking smell in the whole universe. Like tangerines and pine.
And then Hinata is crying out and collapsing onto his knees and clutching his stomach and there's sweat dripping off his forehead onto the floor. He looks up, looking around for his alpha, but before Kageyama can react, someone else's growl rips through the gym.
__
Kageyama is going to fucking kill Tanaka.
It’s a blur of pheromones and panic as Tanaka pounces onto Hinata, onto Kageyama’s omega, forcing him onto his knees and gripping a handful of orange hair, acting purely on the impulse to breed the wanting omega. Hinata shrieks but he’s too weak too give in, too weak to do anything but raise his ass in the air for Tanaka, for fucking Tanaka .
If Daichi hadn’t been close enough to grab Tanaka’s arms and yank him back, Kageyama can only imagine what would’ve happened. And now Tanaka’s a growling mess as his eyes darken and his body struggles in Daichi’s grip. Asahi is no better, but Nishinoya’s leading him out of the gym before he can even think about doing anything. Tsukishima has to hold his nose and clench his fists, but at least he doesn’t move.
It’s all happening so fast. Kageyama’s body debates between rushing to his omega or ripping Tanaka to shreds, all the while feeling his own rut coming on, painful warmth surging into his stomach and dick and brain, and he doesn’t care that all of his teammates are here because the only person in the whole world is Hinata. Suddenly there are hands on his shoulders, though, and the only person in the whole world is being lifted and carried out of the room by Suga and Yamaguchi even though they have no fucking right to touch his omega. How fucking dare they.
“Kageyama. That’s enough.” Daichi’s voice reverberates.
He hesitates for as long as he can, but he has no choice but to relax his arms and close his lips over his bared teeth. Kageyama hates this feeling of having to submit.
“Come on, let’s all step outside.” Daichi says, and Kageyama feels himself being pulled towards the door opposite of where Hinata was taken. He’s vaguely aware that the one restraining him is Kiyoko. She and Daichi are the most under control even as alphas since they’re both bonded, Daichi to Suga and Kiyoko to a girl named Yachi.
Once they all join Nishinoya and Asahi outside the gym, she lets Kageyama go but stays close enough that she’ll grab him if he tries anything. He bites the inside of his lip. His heart is beating a thousand miles a minute and each exhale is accompanied by a guttural sound, his whole body overcome by the sensation of feeling like a wild animal trapped in a cage. Hinata. All he wants is Hinata. All he needs is Hinata. He needs to be attending to his omega, don’t they get it? Don’t they understand that Hinata needs him, too? Hinata …
***
“ Kageyama! Alpha! M-My alpha, I-I need h-him, K-Kageyama, please…. ” Hinata borderline screams as he curls up on the floor of the clubroom.
He can’t count how many heats he’s had in his life, but every time feels like the first time, as if he could ever get used to this searing pain ripping through his whole body and accompanying heat that can only be compared to blue flames lapping against his skin. He’s burning, he’s on fire, scorching inside him down to his blood and bones. He feels bad about the slick leaking out of him onto the floor, especially when it’s only his second day at practice, but he feels Suga gently rolling him onto a towel.
“You’ll get to see him soon enough. But for right now, we have to wait for everyone to calm down. Including you.”
“ Alpha…. Kageyama…” Hinata whimpers.
Yamaguchi kneels down beside Suga. “Hinata, aren’t you on suppressants?”
Hinata shakes his head.
“Why not? Suppressants are mandatory to attend this school.” Suga says.
“M-My family tried to give me suppressants. They made me sick.” Hinata grips his stomach.
Yamaguchi and Suga look at one another, realization setting in.
“I don’t think those were suppressants, Hinata.” Suga starts. “They were probably trying to make you sterile.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s when you lose all of your presentation. You stop producing pheromones, you don’t have heats anymore, and you can’t reproduce. You can’t bond, either. Most of the time, people like that will just blend in as betas.” Suga explains, rubbing Hinata’s back.
“Oh.” He whispers.
“What happened to your family?” Yamaguchi asks.
“I presented after I finished junior high. I w-was the only omega in my family. Everyone else was an alpha or a beta, even my sister, so when they found out I was an omega, they weren’t h-happy about it. That’s when they started to make me take a b-bunch of medicine, but I stopped taking them when I started feeling sick. They told me I would have to leave home if I s-stopped. I didn’t wanna leave, so I lied about t-taking them, but they found out when my second heat came. They put all my stuff outside the next morning. I kind of j-just wandered until I found a shelter. Then… Then Kageyama found me.”
Hinata can’t tell if the tears on his cheeks are from his heat or from having to remember. Kageyama’s made him forget for so long, he almost started to believe everything before Kageyama was a bad dream. But he always knew it wasn’t. He acted like it didn’t bother him, but it really did. It really does.
The clubroom is silent aside from Hinata’s panting and whimpering.
“That’s awful, Hinata. I’m so sorry.” Yamaguchi finally says.
Suga nods. “The good thing is you’re here now. You never have to go through that again, promise.”
Now Hinata’s really crying because he never could have imagined starting high school or making friends like this or getting to play volleyball on a team or meeting someone who he really cares about and who he thinks cares about him, too. He’s distracted by another jolt of pain in his abdomen and Yamaguchi and Suga both do their best to make him comfortable. He can’t believe how lucky he is.
“C-Can I please go back to Kageyama now?” He pants.
“Let’s get you home first. Alright?” Suga picks up Hinata bridal style as Yamaguchi gathers his things. Hinata can smell Kageyama’s scent, the scent of his rut, on their way off of school property towards Kageyama’s house. He’s too weak to wrestle out of Suga’s grip and go find his alpha. He falls asleep before they get home.
***
Ever since Hinata entered Kageyama’s life, time has been skewered. Once again, he can’t tell if it’s been thirty minutes or 6 fucking months since he got dragged away from his omega. Daichi asks him all sorts of questions, like why Hinata isn’t on suppressants (“I thought he was”) and why he couldn’t tell his heat was starting earlier (“He seemed a little hot, but he didn’t smell like it”) and if they’re using birth control (“Well, we forgot last time, but it’s fine because he didn’t get pregnant”), and Tsukishima scolds him for putting all the unbonded alphas at risk (“It’s not my fault!”).
The interrogation doesn’t end until Suga and Yamaguchi join them.
“Hinata-” Kageyama starts to ask.
“Don’t worry. He’s asleep at your house. I found a bottle of suppressants in the trash, by the way.” Suga tells him. Kageyama shifts his weight onto his other foot and licks his lips, obviously agitated. Yamaguchi giggles at that.
“Go home.” He says to Kageyama.
Kageyama doesn’t wait for anyone else to say anything before he takes off. He’ll get his stuff tomorrow. Fuck homework, fuck practice, the only thing he wants to fuck is Hinata.
There are a pair of alphas who must have been going for a walk standing across the street from Kageyama’s driveway when he gets there, probably drawn to the sweet smell that left a trail from the school. Kageyama doesn’t hesitate to bare his teeth at them and exudes enough pheromones shrieking don’t even think about it that they keep walking, quickly. His shirt is already mostly off as he rushes into the house.
“Hinata?!”
Kageyama hears a whimper in response. God, it’s only been a month but he fucking missed that little noise. He leaves his pants at the bottom of the staircase, a purr already in his throat and pre-cum dripping down his thigh and the power-high his rut gives him making his vision hazy.
When he opens his bedroom door, he freezes, though, because he didn’t expect to see this . To see every single article of clothing he owns, every pillow in the house, including his pillows, his mother’s pillows, the couch pillows, and the towel he used this morning, the rug next to his bedside, every blanket they own, all of it piled into Hinata’s corner of the room. Kageyama knows omegas nest, everyone knows that, but he didn’t think it was supposed to be to this extent. Hinata didn’t nest this much last time, did he?
Kageyama has to move a couple shirts aside to even see Hinata’s face. His omega is naked, with several fingers lost in his ass already. Hinata just looks up at him through half-lidded eyes and moans as he thrusts his hand into himself.
“Why did you nest so much?” Kageyama asks softly.
“I-I just... didn’t h-have enough time l-last month.” He breathes, sucking on his lip. “I a-always nest a lot... More than o-other omegas.”
Hinata adjusts something by his neck. His collar, Kageyama realizes, and also several of Kageyama’s ties. They’re so tight he can’t believe Hinata can breathe, but he’s breathing, he’s moaning, he’s whimpering Kageyama’s name. Kageyama scoops him up out of the nest and lays him on top of everything, licking up the underside of Hinata’s throbbing dick and kissing along his stomach until he reaches Hinata’s nipples. He didn’t learn just how much power his tongue has over Hinata and his nipples until the last full day of his rut last month, but he won’t miss the opportunity again. While he nibbles and sucks on the left side of Hinata’s chest, his fingers find Hinata’s other nipple, teasing and pulling and torturing. Hinata writhes under his touch and arches his back, moaning delicious sounds that only encourage Kageyama more.
That’s all it takes for Hinata’s first orgasm to wash over him. He pulls Kageyama’s hair as the alpha brings his tongue to the hot and white tip of Hinata’s length, tasting the first cum of his heat. When he lets go of Hinata’s nipple, he straddles him and leans down into a kiss. It’s a soft kiss. Gentle. Just the slightest bit needy.
It only becomes rough when Hinata tries to bring his tongue up into Kageyama’s mouth. Only Kageyama can do that. He bites Hinata’s lip and forces his tongue down with his own, bringing one hand up to add more pressure around Hinata’s neck and stroking Hinata’s dick with his other. Hinata comes a second time, a third time, just from Kageyama’s slow pumps, tormenting every nerve ending in his length. Kageyama doesn’t stop until his hand is dripping in his omega’s cum.
“K-Kageyama. I-I’ve been waiting for you already… A-Alpha.” Hinata spreads his knees as wide as he can, the smell of slick wafting up into Kageyama’s nose. Kageyama slides his briefs off, but he doesn’t lean over his omega with his dick at his entrance like his instincts are telling him to. He wants to try something different.
Putting his arms around Hinata and lifting him, lifting like a mother lifts a baby, Kageyama bites down on his bond mark. He stands up with his teeth still latched onto the spot and pushes Hinata against the wall. Hinata pants moan after moan as he both loves and can’t stand the feeling of Kageyama’s teeth sinking into his already tender flesh. Kageyama adjusts so that Hinata’s legs around his waist. His ass bounces off the head of Kageyama’s dick.
He slides up into Hinata’s slick, up into Hinata, up until he’s pressing into the back of his omega and Hinata is screaming. Kageyama grips Hinata’s waist tightly as he begins to rock him up and down on his dick. He can feel red marks forming on the back of his neck with Hinata’s fingernails raking into his flesh. He can feel Hinata’s hot whines in his ears, begging him to breed him and fill him up. He can feel Hinata unconsciously widening his legs as he tries to get into the best position for his body to catch Kageyama’s seed, although he remembered to take his birth control pills this time. Kageyama’s instincts wish he hadn't, however, because all he wants is to see Hinata fertile, growing with their children in his stomach.
Kageyama bucks up into Hinata’s ass, still refusing to let go of their bond mark. Hinata cums for a fifth and sixth time but he’s still begging for more, harder, faster, tighter, breed me, fill me, fuck me, Tobio, alpha, please. Even as he feels his knot forming prominently at the end of his dick, Kageyama only thrusts with more vigor. Hinata cries moans as his ass is forced to adjust to Kageyama’s ever growing girth, to the knot that’s bigger and lasts longer than other alphas, that fills him up more than anyone else ever could.
His knot finally becomes too bloated for him to move much, but he continues to jerk sporadically until wonderful heat courses through his body and he releases into his omega. Hinata bounces into the feeling, desperate for his alpha’s seed. Kageyama curses, his whole body shaking with his orgasm. He knows his knot isn’t larger than last time, but fuck , it feels like it with how fucking tight Hinata is. Fuck , Hinata’s clenching him dry.
Kageyama rests Hinata back onto his nest and lets go of the bond mark. He licks up the blood he drew as he straddles him. They’ll be locked together for a while.
Kageyama finds something to do by turning his attention back to Hinata nipples, pink and hard and even more sensitive now, making Hinata grip Kageyama's waist with every ounce of strength in his fingertips.
“I w-wish I wasn’t on b-birth control. I-I wish you could g-get me pregnant ....”
Kageyama looks up at him.
“Me, too.”
Kageyama gently palms Hinata’s stomach, feeling how smooth and healthy his skin is. He kisses his bellybutton.
Needless to say, Daichi didn’t question why the two of them weren’t at practice for the rest of the week.
__
Fuck, shouldn’t his rut be over by now? Kageyama jolts awake to hot sweat dripping down his forehead and a pillow between his thighs, his hips already twitching erratically even though he’s not fully awake yet. He must have moved his pillow while he was asleep. There’s a wet patch on it, wet with cum. His cum. He groans.
What time is it? Kageyama fumbles for his phone on the bedside table, loudly, until it lights up. 4:06 AM. In the chaos that is his memories of the last however many days, he thinks he remembers falling asleep with his knot deep inside Hinata sometime last night. That’s usually how they fall asleep, though, and Hinata is usually the one who wakes him up asking for more sex. He looks over at Hinata. In the dim light of his phone screen, he makes out the shape of his omega wrapped up in the sheets. His chest rises and falls with sleep.
Six days. This time, his rut lasted six days, except it didn’t because it’s not fucking over yet. His arms reach for warmth, for skin, for the smell that’s intoxicated his rationality for a week now, but when he pulls a sleeping Hinata close against his body, he realizes that the omega smells different. Hinata smells sugary and like daydreams themselves, but his heat is over.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
It takes every ounce of his willpower to push Hinata away and ignore the cute snore that bubbles out of his omega’s nose, but he has to because he made a promise not to hurt Hinata the moment he saw his orange hair at the shelter. Kageyama was just lucky last month, he should’ve realized that. Yes, he adopted Hinata precisely for these circumstances, to numb the impulses devouring his mind raw, but he never would give in... It never really occurred to him how tempting it would be to give in, though.
He looks over at Hinata again. If only his omega didn’t look so fucking good with his hair tousled, softer than kitten fur, his eyelashes perked so daintily over closed and unsuspecting eyes, lips parted just enough that they’re practically begging for Kageyama’s fingers, and if that wasn’t bad enough, Hinata turns over a little in his sleep, just enough that his leg slides up, exposing his perfect ass for Kageyama’s fantasy. Hinata was always submissive before, but this is… Shut up!
Kageyama scolds his thoughts and the alpha in him. He won’t take advantage of his omega. No. Never. Don’t think about it. He won’t, no matter how tantalizing Hinata looks, or how vulnerable his ass is, or how easy it would be, how fucking good it would feel if he just-
He stumbles off the bed onto his feet. If he doesn’t get out of here soon, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to last much longer. He won’t hurt Hinata. But he only takes one step towards his bedroom door when he hears a little noise, one of Hinata’s little noises. For a moment, he’s terrified that he woke his omega up, but when Kageyama whips his head around, Hinata’s just readjusting again and snoring, even though it sounds more like a whimper than a snore. The sheet falls off his ass entirely.
Maybe… Maybe one handjob won’t hurt.
Keeping his eyes on Hinata’s pink ass and refusing to let his mind wander farther than this sight alone, Kageyama brings a hesitant hand to his dick. He stifles a moan as he pumps himself once, twice, three times. His cum spills onto the sheets. Of course it’s not enough. His dick is hard again in a matter of seconds.
He can feel himself slipping, succumbing to the persistence of his instincts despite how dutifully he rebels, and God, he wishes it didn’t have to be like this, but imagining the pleasure of Hinata’s ass taking his cock so, so well challenges that, too. Kageyama’s caught in the middle of a fucking civil war and he’s fighting with the losing side.
He bites his tongue. He swallows. He squirms. He clears his throat. He tells his legs to walk away, but they won’t move. When there’s such a helpless omega within reach, how can he just ignore him, how can his rut ignore that smell? Before he realizes what his body is doing, he’s growling and pulling the sheet off Hinata with his teeth, grabbing his omega by the waist, yanking him back. Hinata lets out a startled whine as he’s pulled from sleep, but he’s too exhausted from his heat to resist.
“ Hinata… I’m so sorry, I-I’m still... on my rut. I’m sorry, baby, I c-can’t help it ,” Kageyama says through clenched teeth. He smacks Hinata’s ass, squeezing tender flesh and resisting the urge to spread him wide, slide into those pretty cheeks. “Let me fuck you. Please, Shoyo.”
Hinata just whimpers some more as he rubs sleep out of his eyes. It’s too fucking much, the fucking want infesting every limb, every movement he makes, until the tip of his dick is pressing against Hinata’s mostly dry entrance. Shit. Where’s his lube again?
“Answer m-me, Hinata. Can I fuck you, baby?” Kageyama barely feels like himself. He’s scared of this feeling.
Hinata pauses, but then he nods in the dark. “Yes. But, please just be gentle.”
“Of course, of course I’ll be gentle. I won’t hurt you, Hinata. Never. Our whole life. I won’t hurt you. Promise.” Kageyama blurts, blabbering because of the pheromones but not caring. He keeps one hand on Hinata’s ass as he makes clumsy work of his bedside table’s drawer. Thank goodness he has enough lube for several alphas stored in his bedroom due to his unpredictable ruts.
As much as he’s become a slave to his instincts in this moment, he feels strangely calm as he lathers the clear liquid onto his fingers, over his dick, into Hinata’s entrance, gripping Hinata tighter when he shivers at how chilly it feels against his warm skin. Kageyama can’t wait anymore. He hopes it’s enough lube, but he doesn’t have time to make sure before his hips jerk him forward. Hinata winces and grabs onto a pillow, bringing it under his face.
Kageyama wants to see his face, wants to know if this is okay but his body is moving again on its own and before he knows it, he’s bottoming out and his hand is clutching the scruff on his omega’s neck. Oh, the feeling is better than fucking everything despite how conflicted he’s feeling. He fucks Hinata until the only sound in the room is skin colliding with skin and Kageyama’s ragged groans. His knot is already forming, damn, quicker than usual.
He hits the spot that makes Hinata scream out of pure pleasure and he memorizes that spot because he’s desperate for Hinata to get something out of this, too. He wants Hinata to feel as good as he does.
Rather than their bond mark, Kageyama bites down on Hinata’s scruff instead as his knot expands and explodes. A moment of nothing but ecstasy floods his senses. The pleasure from his orgasm is the only thing he can focus on, the only thought in his head. Any reservations he had about fucking Hinata evaporate because anything that feels this fucking good has to be a good thing, or that’s just what his instincts tell him.
It’s hard to believe his omega’s tiny body has been able to take all of the seed he’s pumped into him this week, even still managing to accept more. Hinata’s body pulses, hopefully from orgasm, but then falls limp under Kageyama’s weight.
His knot lasts an hour. At least, that’s how long it lasts before Kageyama falls asleep.
* * *
“Kageyama, wake up! We have to get ready for school.”
He opens his eyes to Hinata’s smile, the feeling of warm hands on his cheeks, his omega’s light body straddling his waist. Kageyama yawns. He rubs his eyes. Oh, his rut’s over. That’s good. He feels focused, satiated, content.
Hinata rolls over and hops off the bed, but his first step makes him flinch.
“Hinata? Does your bond mark hurt?” Kageyama sits up, remembering how Hinata’s neck hurt after his last heat.
“N-No. I’m fine, though.”
But a whine escapes him as he takes another step.
“You’re not fine. What’s wrong? Where does-” Kageyama’s voice falters. The memory of last night comes crashing. He fucking forgot.
Fumbling out of the sheets, Kageyama rushes to his omega’s side and hugs him as if his whole body is the apology he can’t possibly express with just “ I’m sorry .” He’s so much more than sorry. He sinned worse than he can be forgiven for. He hurt Hinata.
“I...I don’t know what got into me. My rut wasn’t over… I….” He buries into Hinata’s chest.
“Kageyama.” Hinata says.
Kageyama doesn’t look up. “If you want a different alpha, I understand, I can help you find one, you can get the procedure that removes your bond mark, I’ll understand. You deserve someone who doesn’t hurt y-”
“Kageyama.” Hinata says again. “Bakageyama. I knew you were still on your rut. And I’m fine. You asked me first, too, remember? I don’t think a lot of alphas would’ve asked…. But you still did. And it… it felt good, too. I’m just a little bit sore. I don’t want another alpha. I’ll never want another alpha. Bakageyama .” He’s as blunt as ever. “Anyway, we have school today. Hurry up!” Hinata ruffles Kageyama’s hair as he lightly shoves out of his hug. He gets his uniform from the closet and puts Kageyama’s on the bed.
“A-Are you sure?” Kageyama stumbles to his feet.
“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have said that stuff. Can I have a pork bun for breakfast?”
“I love you.”
Hinata’s shoving his arm through a sleeve when Kageyama says the dumbest thing he’s ever said.
Hinata stops.
Hinata turns around.
Hinata blinks over caramel eyes.
“I love you, too.”
...As if Kageyama’s stupidly oblivious for not knowing that already.
Then, he resumes pulling his uniform on.
“Where are my socks?” Hinata asks.
But Kageyama’s not in their bedroom anymore, he’s not even in the house, he’s somewhere far, far away where the ocean billows silver and blue, where breezes as warm as kisses fill his lungs and he doesn’t have a heart anymore because his heart is the moon, above him, above joy itself, a blossoming red-orange silhouette in Kageyama’s arms. He’s in fucking heaven. Except he’s been there all along. Ever since Hinata.
“Kageya- Hey! What are you- What are you doing!?” Hinata cries out as Kageyama picks him up and kisses him furiously. They fall back onto the bed, Kageyama trying to express how much he loves him through his lips alone. Kageyama devours him and Hinata is happy to let him.
“I love you,” Kageyama whispers every time he pulls back for air. “I love you,” another gasp, “I love you,” another kiss, “I love you.”
Hinata’s a giggling mess under him. He tries to say it back, he really does, but he doesn’t have time to get those sweet words out because Kageyama’s mouth is back on his.
Kageyama says thirty-four “I love you”s by the time they get to school.
***
“I would say get a room, but you’ve been doing that all week.” Tsukishima remarks as he passes Kageyama ‘helping’ Hinata change in the clubroom. In reality, Hinata was genuinely struggling to put his t-shirt on (in typical Hinata fashion), but Kageyama didn’t exactly need to run his hands up the omega’s exposed torso as he helped, and Tsukishima was an unfortunate witness. “I’ve never seen a bonded pair still so horny after a heat. You continue to amaze me, king.”
Suga is just in time to hold Kageyama back so he can’t throw himself onto the other alpha.
“Tsukishima! Stop provoking him!” Daichi yells from somewhere outside. “All of you! Hurry up for practice!”
They’re playing two-on-two matches this afternoon. Kageyama and Hinata are teamed up (Daichi would rather not have to deal with the uproar Kageyama would raise if his mate was separated from him) and they’re playing Tsukishima and Yamaguchi (Daichi hopes some of their annoying tension will be released this way). Being relatively inexperienced, Hinata struggles through the first set of ten points, and they lose quickly. Even still, Kageyama can tell how that only makes Hinata all the more motivated.
Neither he nor Kageyama realize how much their lives will change in the next set.
It’s the first point. Hinata receives it just barely, giving it to Kageyama to set, but shit, the toss is too high, too fast, Hinata won’t be able to reach it… But then Hinata’s there, he’s fucking there , and his spike is perfect. They score. It feels impossible. It’s impossible until he does it again, and again, and again.
Just when Kageyama thought he couldn’t fall in love with Hinata more, he’s watching his omega sync with him in a way no one’s ever been able to do before and loves him more for it.
The two of them stay later than everyone else after practice, just practicing this new quick that Tsukishima calls weird, experimenting with just how fast and how high Hinata can jump. They leave when it’s dark with newfound excitement tingling in their muscles.
“Did you see that!? I was like zip and then whoosh and then bwam ! You’re such an amazing setter, Kageyama!” Hinata says. The moonlight makes his eyes twinkle as they walk home.
Kageyama blushes and his hands fidget in his pockets. “I didn’t know you were so fast.”
“I always have been!” Hinata grabs one of Kageyama’s hands to hold onto. “Can we practice our quick more tomorrow? Please?”
“Obviously.”
“Kageyama?”
“Hm?”
He looks down at his omega, but Hinata’s staring at some star ahead of them.
“I wanna play volleyball with you forever.”
__
It’s been eight years since Hinata said those words to him.
Those words.
I wanna play volleyball with you forever.
Their high school years came and went, the vitality of young love persisting through practices, holidays, games, schooldays, dates, cuddles, heats, ruts, lazy mornings, late movie nights, occasional disagreements and the make-ups that followed less than an hour later when Kageyama couldn’t wait any longer to hold Hinata in his arms. They played volleyball through it all. Like a third hand to hold, as pink and calloused as Hinata’s in Kageyama’s, volleyball was something more to them, a second love.
The weekend after their last day, on the way home from a double-date with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, which Kageyama swore he wouldn’t have agreed to if it weren’t for the way Hinata’s face got all cute when he asked, they walked under starlight with no particular destination in mind. Their fingers intertwined out of habit. They didn’t speak as they wandered; there’s no need when two people know each other’s souls as well as the sun knows the moon. And then their feet found the familiar sloping hill leading up to Karasuno. They relived what felt like a lifetime of memories amidst an evening breeze that smelled like the pages of a new book.
Hinata stopped. Kageyama stopped beside him.
“It’s almost been three years since you adopted me. Can you believe that?” Hinata said.
Kageyama didn’t say anything. He just looked at his omega.
“I’m so lucky, Kageyama. I’m so lucky that I got to play volleyball with you. I wanna keep playing with you.”
“I know. I remember what you said.”
“Really?”
“Do you remember what I said after that? What I told you after you said you wanted to play volleyball with me forever?”
Hinata thinks for a moment.
“You said, ‘I promise that we will.’”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Do you still mean it?”
“I said promise, didn’t I?”
“Bakageyama.”
“Dumbass. I love you.”
“I know.”
And six months later, Hinata got the opportunity to practice abroad, which of course he accepted because omegas rarely get opportunities like those. With Kageyama’s skill and experience, it was easy for him to tag along wherever Hinata went and find something meaningful to do himself, and they made it work. They made it work for two years. Two years of apartment living and a million photos and postcards (Hinata sent one to their old Karasuno teammates every week) and heats and ruts and volleyball, volleyball, volleyball. It was no surprise that they were both offered positions on national teams when they came back to Japan, although Kageyama received significantly more offers as an alpha than Hinata did as an omega. That really bothered Hinata. Kageyama still gets angry just thinking about it.
But no matter how many teams reached out to Kageyama, he refused. If Hinata wasn’t on the team, it wouldn’t be worth it. He knew Hinata was growing sort of annoyed after a couple months passed and he still wasn’t paying any attention to the offers he was receiving, but he was going to fulfill his promise. He promised. He’ll play volleyball with Hinata forever.
When the day finally came that he and Hinata were both scouted for the same team, Kageyama didn’t tell his omega right away. He had a plan. It was finally time to take that little red box out of its hiding place, tuck it into the back pocket of his black suit, tell Hinata he made a reservation for dinner and insist that he wear his nice black dress to match Kageyama. He waited until they were the last ones outside under the fairy lights at the restaurant to do it since Hinata wouldn’t want an audience, Kageyama knew that.
“Shoyo?”
Hinata perked up at his given name. Kageyama didn’t use it unless it was important.
“Yeah?”
Kageyama slid up out of his chair, trying to be graceful as he started to kneel, but fuck, he tripped a little and it was awkard and he was a blushing mess. But Hinata didn’t notice because Kageyama was on one knee, one fucking knee , and Hinata was crying before Kageyama could even open that little red box.
“Hinata Shoyo,” Fuck, now Kageyama had tears in his eyes. “I love you. I love you more than I’ll ever love anything. You were the best decision of my life. I want to be with you forever. Or whatever is longer than that is.” Hinata was already nodding yes yes yes but Kageyama had to finish, he had to get through this without sobbing, he told himself he would. “So will you marry me?”
He opened the box.
It was a simple ring, a rose gold band and a gem nestled between two small diamonds, a gem Hinata didn’t recognize but was absolutely gorgeous. The light trickled down onto refracting purple, turquoise, like the stone itself couldn’t decide which color it wanted to be.
“Tobio,” Hinata said through tears. “It’s- It’s beautiful.”
“W-What’s your a-answer, d-dumbass?” Kageyama choked out.
Hinata threw his arms over Kageyama and fell into him like he’s done a thousand times, nuzzling into Kageyama’s neck, breathing him, crying as if he’s never cried before.
“Yes. Bakageyama. Yes. Yes .”
Kageyama struggled to place the ring onto Hinata’s finger with Hinata draped over him, crying, and his own chest shaking as emotion after emotion crammed their way into his heart which wouldn’t be big enough to take it all if it weren’t for Hinata. Why was he relieved? He knew Hinata would say yes, didn’t he? Of course he did. Still… Even though it’s standard for bonded pairs to end up getting married, not everyone wants marriage. Not everyone is happy with their mate, and getting unmarked is expensive and inconvenient, and maybe Hinata felt that way. But no, Kageyama was sure that Hinata was as happy as he was. They’re happy. So, so happy.
“I have good news, Hinata.” Kageyama remembered after several minutes, after they had sat back down at the table, except Hinata was in his lap now.
“What? What could be more good than this?”
Kageyama kissed his forehead.
“I got another offer. We’re going to be playing on the same team.”
Hinata’s eyes got so wide and bright they looked more like stars than anything else.
“...Really?”
Kageyama nodded. “I promised you. We’re going to play volleyball together, forever.”
The only way Hinata could think to react was by kissing his alpha. A kiss so intimate and transparent that Kageyama could practically taste the emotions on Hinata’s tongue. Excitement. Joy. Love. The emotions are so simple, universal, yet Hinata experiences them in a special way that only Kageyama knows the full extent of what that exactly means.
They kissed until a waiter cleared her throat, asking if they were finished eating. Hinata said no (referring to Kageyama) and Kageyama had to tip her a little extra as they left, but it was worth it because Hinata can never do anything wrong that can’t be forgiven with his cuteness.
Dumbass .
Kageyama carried Hinata bridal-style on the way home. It felt like foreshadowing.
They moved into a new apartment downtown after joining the team, a team exclusively made up of alphas except for Hinata and a beta libero. Kageyama had a permanent scar inside his cheek from biting it so much to stop himself from overreacting when another alpha would even look in Hinata’s direction. No one else was bonded, but they were all respectful, Kageyama was aware of that, but it was still hard. Fortunately, they were also respectful of the unpredictability of Kageyama’s ruts. After being bonded with Hinata for so long, though, they weren’t as frequent as they used to be. Just one every six months seemed to be the new normal for him.
It took them a month to learn that they moved into the same apartment building as Daichi and Suga (three doors down), Bokuto and Akaashi (one floor below), Oikawa and Iwaizumi (two floors above), and Asahi and Nishinoya (five doors down). Kageyama didn’t believe Hinata at first when he told him. What kind of coincidence? But then Hinata invited each couple for dinner one by one over a series of Friday nights and Kageyama couldn’t deny it when they were sitting in his living room. Easier to send out wedding invitations…
One year came and went in that apartment. Their wedding came and went, too. Kageyama wore a strapless white gown, satin without any detail but gorgeous nonetheless, and Hinata wore a ball gown with diamond accents and floral lace and a train that had to be carried by Yamaguchi and Suga just to walk down the aisle. Kageyama set the bouquet and Hinata spiked it. Kiyoko caught it. Yachi didn’t stop blushing for the rest of the reception. Just like everyone said it would be, it was the happiest day of Kageyama’s life.
It’s been two months since the wedding. On another Saturday night, they might be staying up late with movies or stargazing, or Tobio would watch Shoyo make a mess of the kitchen as he insisted on baking something for their friends even though it’s 11:32 and their probably asleep, baby, but Tobio knows it won’t be one of those nights as he steps through the door. The smell catches in his throat. He sets the groceries down. The mewling coming from their bedroom is suddenly the most important thing on Tobio’s mind.
“Shoyo?” He hurries to find his omega. Shoyo has a new habit of nesting in the dark, with the lamps unplugged and curtains pulled and the door shut. It’s no different now, and Tobio stumbles around blindly until he can turn the bedside lamp on, revealing an all too familiar mass of cloth piled on their bed. Tobio’s dick twitches under his waistband.
Shoyo squirms his way through several blankets until his head pops out of the nest. His face is already red and glistening with sweat, lips wet from licking, bond mark swollen and tantalizing. The smell of his heat is normal, sweet and fucking mesmerizing, but Tobio can’t help but feel like there’s something different about the scent. For some reason, it’s more… Powerful. Appetizing.
It’s happened once before, maybe three years ago. He remembers Shoyo going to the doctor after his heat ended to make sure everything was okay, but they just told him it meant he had been especially fertile that heat, his body more prepped and desperate to conceive than usual. Oh. It’s… It’s happening again. Hinata’s more fertile than usual. And needy.
“ Alpha .” Shoyo tugs Tobio down by his collar, making their lips collide, and he pulls Tobio’s hands to his chest, to his hot skin looking for touch. He runs greedy hands through his alpha’s hair as they kiss deeper and deeper and deeper. Tobio’s too drunk off his smell to react to anything until he feels Shoyo’s hands trailing down his naked body. They both know that’s never been and will never be allowed as long as Tobio’s there to do something about it.
“Shoyo,” He breathes, pinning Shoyo’s arms down and climbing over him. “You remembered to take your birth control, right?”
Shoyo moans out in affirmation and nods. He bucks his hips up into Tobio’s clothed dick. Tobio has no reason not to believe him.
As much as Shoyo likes to skip the foreplay, especially during the first night of his heat, he’s more frantic than he normally is to claw Tobio’s underwear off and get his dick inside his slicked entrance and let Tobio lick and suck and bite on his delicious bond mark. Tobio can’t really resist when Shoyo thrusts his scent gland up against his nose, filling him with a smell that’s too potently sweet for him to deny.
It only takes a moment for Tobio to strip completely, for Shoyo to get on his hands and knees in submission, total fucking submission, and Tobio’s hips to move on their accord toward his omega’s begging ass. He pounds into Shoyo on the first thrust. He’s usually more gentle, more patient. Tonight, though, something tells him not to care. Shoyo presents his neck for Tobio as he makes the most sinful noises, lets Tobio yank his hips back to meet his alpha’s dick. It’s only his first orgasm and Tobio’s knot is already swelling. Shoyo can feel it, too, and that just makes him more desperate.
“ Kageyama... ”
“ D-Dumbass, t-that’s… your n-name, too, n-now… ”
Tobio bites onto Shoyo’s bond mark a few seconds before his knot immobilizes them. He cums inside his omega, just like he has a hundred times before. This time, though, Shoyo keeps bucking back, encouraging more of Tobio’s seed into his body, and even thirty minutes later when Tobio deflates, he doesn’t let his alpha pull out for several more minutes. As he cools down and Tobio showers, Shoyo keeps his ass up in the air, coaxing his stomach to accept what Tobio pumped into him. Tobio doesn’t know he’s doing that, but he continues to after every fuck they have over the remainder of Shoyo’s heat. Tobio chalks it up to be unprecedented fervor to conceive while his body is exceptionally fertile.
When Shoyo’s heat ends, they return to practice as usual.
Everything is normal. Everything is normal until Shoyo wakes up at 4 AM to throw up two weeks later. And the morning after. And the morning after. And all of a sudden, he’s not in the mood for sushi, but he’s not in the mood for sushi the next day either, or the next.
He misses practice the next Monday, telling Tobio that he has a doctor’s appointment. But Tobio comes home early to Shoyo bouncing in his seat at the dining room table with a gift bag in front of him. Tobio blinks.
“How was your appointment?”
“Oh, I didn’t go.”
Tobio sits down across from him. “What? Why not? Are you feeling okay?”
Shoyo nods, still bouncing.
“I’m fine.” He slides the bag towards Tobio.
“It’s not our anniversary, is it?”
“No! Our wedding was two months ago, Bakageyama.”
“Then what’s that?” Tobio points at it.
Shoyo’s cheeks glow with his smile.
“Open it.”
Tobio hesitates at first, but pulls the crinkled blue bag into his lap. There’s no tissue paper inside. Just something white and plastic.
Tobio pulls it out.
A pregnancy test.
His blood stops moving in his veins.
A fucking pregnancy test.
“Tobio. I’m gonna be a mom.”
Tobio stares at those two little pink lines.
This feeling… It’s like…
“I know.” Shoyo says, pulling one of Tobio’s limp hands into his own. “Tobio, I know.”
Tobio looks up at Shoyo through tears that sting his eyelashes. He doesn’t know when he started crying. Shoyo’s crying, too.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you that I didn’t take my birth control last month. I wanted it to be a surprise. I know you said you wanted kids soon, and I feel the same way, so I made sure I got pregnant during my last heat. I did everything to make sure it happened. And it did! I’m pregnant, Tobio, I really am.”
Tobio looks at the lines again. Two pink lines. Two pink lines and their lives are different now than they were a single minute ago.
“I love you.”
The only words that come out of Tobio’s mouth. The only words.
“I love you so much.” Shoyo laughs.
At some point, Shoyo finds his way into Tobio’s lap, although Tobio doesn’t let go of the pregnancy test, clutching it like it’s something to love. They hold one another. Tobio kisses Shoyo’s cheeks and his lips. He feels his soft hair against his fingertips. The whole world, placed in delicate arms.
I never thought it would be you. Tobio thinks.
But it doesn’t matter. Where they were born, where they grew up, who they became… It doesn’t matter. They would have found each other. Tobio knows that.
I always knew it would be you.
11:18am
[ kenma and kuroo basically hookup in the boys bathroom every week ~ thats it, thats the fic ]
pairing: kozume kenma x kuroo tetsurou
warnings: smut, nsfw, light choking, light bdsm, teasing, degrading
word count: 3.2k
xxx
~
“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m coming,” Kuroo sighs to himself as he leisurely makes his way down the hall.
He glances over his shoulder a few times, scanning for any sign of other students or teachers or anyone who might have wandered into this wing of the school for whatever reason. But it’s 11:18 AM on a Friday and these classrooms will be empty until noon. It’s empty except for Kuroo and his sighs, as expected, but it’s not like Kenma seems to care either way - Kuroo could hear his noises the moment he turned down the hallway.
Noises that are soft and pleading like kitten sounds, yet loud enough to echo out of the boys’ bathroom he’s waiting in and crash into Kuroo’s ears and dick. Just because it’s a part of their weekly routine doesn’t mean Kuroo will ever get used to Kenma’s fucking whimpering.
“Fuck,” Kuroo breathes, picking up his pace until he rounds the corner into the bathroom.
Kenma’s breathy whines are even louder as they ricochet off the linoleum floors and the dim lights and the smudged mirrors, forcing Kuroo’s heart rate to pick up and his head to spin. There’s another noise mingling with Kenma’s moans, a wet sound that’s softer than the rest but impossible to miss. Kuroo nudges the largest stall door open, the stall they use every Friday at 11:18 AM, and his breath catches dark in his throat when he sees Kenma bouncing on his own fingers.
Kenma peeks up at his boyfriend through half-lidded eyelids, his golden eyes glazed over in pleasure, but continues to thrust his fingers deeper into himself.
“Tetsurou~” He moans.
“You really couldn’t wait for me, kitten?” Kuroo locks the stall door behind him, kicking Kenma’s discarded pants and underwear aside.
Kenma’s crouched in the corner and Kuroo kneels down in front of him. For a long moment, he just watches. Watches Kenma’s throat bob up and down in unison with his moans, watches how plumped his lips get with every bite, watches how tousled his blonde hair gets as he bounces, watches a single drop of precum roll down his throbbing dick onto his stomach, just watching his boyfriend and wondering what he did in a past-life to deserve the perfection that is Kozume Kenma.
Kuroo gently caresses Kenma’s bottom lip with his thumb, letting the silky smooth feeling of saliva and cherry chapstick gather on his fingertip before bringing his finger to his own tongue. It tastes sweet, like Kenma, like cherries and warm things. He sucks on his thumb a bit, letting his own spit mingle with the tastes of Kenma, before bringing it back to Kenma’s mouth. He slips through Kenma’s parted lips easily, sliding his thumb up along his tongue and eliciting a gasp followed by a moan. Kenma looks like his eyes are about to roll back into his head as he risks being intoxicated completely by the feeling of his fingers sliding into his ass and Kuroo’s delicious thumb in his mouth.
“Someone’s desperate today.” Kuroo smirks. Kenma just whimpers.
Maybe it was because Kenma easily gets distracted thinking about Kuroo in class, maybe it was because Kuroo found out that this specific wing of the school is unoccupied on Fridays from 11 to noon, maybe it was because Kuroo struggled to go 5 schooldays without putting his hands on his Kenma even before they started dating. They’re not exactly sure when or how it started, but for the past couple months, Fridays at 11:18 AM in the boys’ bathroom has become their designated hookup spot. It’s 11:18 because Kuroo always says 11:15 but Kenma’s always late. But not today.
“It’s not my fault you made me wait.” Kenma manages to mutter in between pants.
“Aw, I’m so sorry to hear that. I made my kitten wait? Poor thing.” Kuroo purrs, pushing his thumb in farther and bringing his other hand up into Kenma’s hair. “Why don’t you take those pretty little fingers out and let me take care of you, hm?”
Kenma ignores him, shutting his eyes and thrusting his fingers up into himself harder. Kuroo grinds his teeth together but smiles through it.
“So that’s how it’s going to be.” He says softly.
Kenma tilts his head up to the side, his hair falling back and exposing the pale skin of his neck that he knows Kuroo can’t resist. And he really can’t. Kuroo pulls his finger out of Kenma’s mouth and brings his hand to his throat instead. He runs his wet fingertip from Kenma’s chin down his throat and across ridiculously soft skin, down to the vulnerable dip above his collarbone.
Brushing his lips along Kenma’s jaw, he starts to place delicate kisses along his neck, but he starts to bite, too, even though his bites always leave conspicuous red marks that can’t be mistaken for anything else. Leaving hickeys breaks one of their unspoken rules about doing this at school and Kenma moans loudly in protest, but Kuroo only digs his lips into Kenma’s skin harder.
“That’s what you get for not waiting.” Kuroo growls against his throat.
After leaving several marks along his neck that he’s sure their classmates will gape at, he brings their lips together and forces his tongue into Kenma’s mouth. He loves it more than anything when he can feel Kenma’s whimpers against their kiss, but Kenma knows that, too, and tries to stay silent. Maybe he would’ve been able to stay quiet if Kuroo didn't yank Kenma’s fingers out of himself, grip his wrists, and lift him up with his back pressed tightly against the wall.
He instinctively wraps his legs around Kuroo’s waist and whines at the feeling of Kuroo’s dick pressing up against his own, all the while gasping for breath as Kuroo’s tongue searches every corner of him. Letting Kenma wrap his arms around his neck, Kuroo brings his hands under Kenma’s thighs and burrows his fingertips into his soft flesh, smiling into their kiss at the groan his boyfriend makes.
Kenma pulls back, biting his lip and tasting Kuroo, and threads his fingers through Kuroo’s soft hair as he catches his breath.
“What do you want, princess? You wanna ride my fingers? You want me to suck you off? You want me to fuck that mouth of yours? Hm? Come on, be good and tell me.” Kuroo’s lips brush against his ear. But Kenma ignores him again and nuzzles into the crook of his neck, leaving his own gentle nibbles disguised as kisses. Kuroo’s breath catches at how hot Kenma’s tongue is on his throat.
“Kenma,” Kuroo whispers. “Baby. We don’t have all day, you know.”
“Why can’t we?” Kenma says against his skin.
Kuroo laughs and presses a kiss against his forehead.
“You know I’d fuck you every minute of every day if I could. But there’s this stupid thing called school that sort of gets in the way of that.”
“Never heard of it.” Kenma starts tugging on Kuroo’s tie.
“Very funny. I’m lucky my teacher hasn’t caught on to me leaving every Friday at this time yet, but until she does, I can do whatever I want to you. Isn’t that right, kitten?”
Kenma just kisses the tender spot between Kuroo’s jaw and neck, whining a little.
“In that case, I’ll decide for you today.” Kuroo says with a deeply smug tone to his voice that makes Kenma shiver. “On your knees.”
Pulling him away from the wall, Kuroo slides Kenma out of his grip so that he’s on his feet and immediately pushes his shoulders down until Kenma submits to the position on his knees. Kuroo cups Kenma’s chin and tilts his head up, brushing a few blonde locks out of his face with his other hand, and he parts Kenma’s swollen lips with his thumb like he did before.
“I’m gonna fuck those beautiful lips of yours. How does that sound?”
Kenma’s gaze wanders from Kuroo’s dark eyes, down to the bulge in his pants, a dark bulge that makes Kenma’s mouth water and a greedy moan escape him.
Kuroo smirks as he starts to undo his belt and pulls his pants down along with his briefs. “I knew you’d be good for me.”
There are only a few things that really grab Kenma’s attention, that make his eyes light up and his cheeks pink, things like video games and watching Shoyo play volleyball and cuddling with his cat. Kuroo’s dick is also one of those things.
Kenma unconsciously opens his mouth wider once he sees Kuroo’s dick spring out of his clothes. Kuroo takes Kenma’s head in his hands, soothing him by rubbing his thumbs in circular motions along his boyfriend’s temple. It’s like Kenma forgets Kuroo is there with the way his gaze locks onto Kuroo’s dick as if he’s never seen anything more mesmerizing in his whole fucking life.
Kuroo brings his hips forward, letting his tip just barely graze Kenma’s bottom lip. He has to hold Kenma’s head back to keep him from swallowing him whole.
“Hold on, kitten. I know you want it. I know you want my dick in your throat. But we’re gonna go at my pace.” He hums. Slower now, he keeps Kenma still as he guides himself into Kenma’s open mouth, too slowly for both of them but he keeps his pace until he feels the back of Kenma’s throat bump against his tip. He can barely retain his self control with how fucking hot Kenma’s mouth and breath is around him, how tempting it is to slam into him and let his cum flood his throat.
Kuroo brings his hands into Kenma’s hair and holds him tight, steady, as he pulls out as slowly as he entered and pushes back in. Kenma closes his lips around his length.
“That’s it, just enjoy it, princess. I’ll do all the work, okay? Just take me as good as you always do.” Kuroo says in between groans as he pulls Kenma by his hair to meet his hips halfway.
Kenma’s eyelids slip over the glassy gold of his irises, and he lets his body go limp just the way Kuroo likes it. Amidst a chaotic week of classes and practice and social interaction, there’s nothing Kenma loves more than sinking into his happy place with Kuroo in control. Even for just 15 minutes… He’ll get more of him tomorrow night when Kuroo spends the night to play video games and fuck him like he means it.
Feeling Kenma relaxing in his grip, Kuroo finally bucks his hips fast enough to get the friction he’s desperate for, letting out ragged moans every time his tip hits the back of his throat. He starts to go deeper, so deep that he feels himself slipping down Kenma’s throat and hears the suppressed noises of Kenma’s gag reflex as he pounds into him.
Kuroo can’t take his gaze off how fucking gorgeous his boyfriend looks. He thrusts his dick deeper and deeper through those perfect, full, pink, glistening lips and feels heat pooling at the base of his stomach and in his length.
“Ah, f-fuck, kitten.” He groans, fucking his mouth even quicker and throwing his head back. Kenma whimpers as Kuroo explodes in his mouth, his hot cum pouring down Kenma’s throat as his orgasm washes over his entire body. Kenma swallows it all, every last drop of Kuroo, and drags his tongue over Kuroo’s tip to make sure he doesn’t miss any.
Kuroo pulls out and drops his hands from Kenma’s hair. For a few minutes, Kenma just slumps against the wall and pants, trying to catch his breath and licking more cum off his lips.
“You were perfect, baby. Absolutely perfect.” Kuroo purrs. He gives himself a couple slow pumps before pulling his pants back up and fastening his belt with a content smile under his dark eyes. “But you can’t go back to class with that, can you.”
He crouches down to Kenma’s level, running a fingertip along Kenma’s dripping dick. Kenma almost flinches at the touch and breathes out a pitiful moan. Searching for something, any fabric to grip onto, he latches onto Kuroo’s tie and accidentally pulls him forward so their noses touch.
“So needy.” Kuroo smirks. “Why don’t you ride your pretty fingers again for me, hm?”
Kenma slants his eyebrows and gives a soft nod as he spits onto his fingers, positioning them at his entrance, two of them, still out of breath from Kuroo’s dick and completely fucking desperate. Kenma cries out when Kuroo takes his dick in one hand the same moment he slides his fingers into himself.
Kenma can’t reach his prostate like Kuroo’s fingers can, but he brushes against it at the same time Kuroo begins to pump him fast, really fucking fast and in the most dizzying way because his hand knows Kenma’s dick better than anything or anyone else. He’s already close and Kuroo can tell by the way he strains against the wall and nearly sobs rather than moans.
“That’s it, kitten. Come for me.”
Kenma’s back arches and his teeth come down on his bottom lip as he releases into Kuroo’s hot fingers. He slips out of his ass, his blonde hair falling to one side as he drops his head. He has no idea how he’ll go back to class after this.
Kuroo licks cum off one of his fingers and stands up, opening the stall door. Kenma can hear the sink running, the sounds of paper towels being yanked, and then feels his body being lifted. Kuroo cleans up his boyfriend delicately and even helps him back into his underwear and pants. He fastens his belt for him and re-knots his tie.
“Kenma. Look at me.”
Kenma finally tilts his head up. He opens his eyes and runs his fingers through his hair in a half-assed attempt to make it look like he wasn’t just fucked in the bathroom. Kuroo does his best to help him, but it’s sort of a lost cause. Kuroo laughs to himself.
“Yaku’s gonna beat my ass.” He sighs.
“It’s not like they don’t know.” Kenma tries to fix a messy spot in Kuroo’s black hair.
“Yeah, but still. Ugh. We have practice today, huh.”
Kenma crinkles his nose. “Ew.”
Kissing his boyfriend’s forehead, Kuroo stretches his arms above him and sighs again. He picks up both his and Kenma’s bags, pushing the stall door back open with his knee and leads both of them out. While Kenma washes his hands, Kuroo balances his chin on top of Kenma’s head.
As they leave the bathroom, Kuroo daydreams about next Friday at 11:18 AM.
all the queer kids join the volleyball club
[ kageyama being soft and hinata being baby, and me being a slut for them both ]
pairing: kageyama tobio x hinata shoyo
warnings: smut, nsfw, first-time
word count: 6.5k
xxx
~
“Hinata, is everything okay?”
Suga jogs over to the heap of orange hair and nerves quivering at the bench and chugging his water bottle so quickly Suga worries he might choke. Hinata’s entire body flinches as Suga’s soft hand comes down on his shoulder.
“Yes! I-I’m fine! I’m sorry!”
He drops his water bottle and practically shrieks as he dives after it.
Suga runs a doubtful hand through his silky grey hair. Hinata’s not acting normal, especially on a Friday afternoon practice when the prelims aren’t for a while and there’s no upcoming practice match to be stressing over. He hasn’t acted like this since their first match with Aoba Johsai a while back. Letting out a sweet and breathy sigh, Suga shakes his head as he reaches for his own water bottle.
“That was a perfect toss, dumbass. Why didn’t you hit it?” Kageyama growls, pointing at Hinata but dropping his hand when he sees how scrunched Shoyo’s expression is. The blush etched into Hinata’s pale face and the way his small fingers tense around the ball make Kageyama’s heart drop.
This was going to be worse than he could have ever imagined.
“I’m sorry!” Hinata yelps.
He smacks his palms against his cheeks, somehow making them redder than they already are. Only Kageyema can tell that Hinata’s on the verge of tears.
Fuck.
Kageyama grinds his teeth together as he rips his eyes away from his boyfriend to give Asahi a toss. He’ll have to worry about Hinata after practice.
Fuck.
“Why don’t you sit down for a while, Hinata. There’s no use practicing spikes with your nerves this high.” Daichi pats Hinata’s shoulder and nearly sends him into a panic attack at the touch.
“Right!” Hinata nods immediately.
The rest of the team stares. Hinata would never agree to sit out so eagerly during a practice.
Annoyance boils over inside Kageyama’s chest, and he resists the urge to drag his boyfriend by his sleeve back onto the court and call him a dumbass and tell him to get control of himself and make him keep spiking and remind him it’s only a few more hours now… But the annoyance bubbles into a gentle sympathy as he watches the anxiety rippling through Hinata’s body. He can’t help but feel guilty.
No matter how he looks at it, this is sort of Kageyama’s fault to begin with.
The rest of practice passes agonizingly slow, Kageyama managing to make perfect tosses despite the adrenaline in his blood and thoughts on his mind and Hinata doing all sorts of push-ups and jumping jacks and stretches in the corner of the gym to try to calm himself.
Kageyama swallows as his gaze wanders to Hinata’s ass. He cusses at the heat that trickles into his stomach.
Not yet.
Daichi claps his hands together. “Alright! Nice work today! Let’s clean up!”
Kageyama heads to the storage closet to grab a mop, but as he steps through the door, Hinata slams into him.
“I-I’m sorry! I was-” Hinata stutters when he looks up and realizes it’s Kageyama he accidentally ran into. “I w-was getting a mop…”
“I’ve got it.” Kageyama mutters.
Hinata looks away, down at his feet and squeezes his hands into fists.
Kageyama doesn’t think as he wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders and pulls him against his chest. He nuzzles his nose against Hinata soft curls, inhaling the sweet smell of tangerines and sweat and spice that he’s grown to love.
“K-Kageyama..?” Hinata whimpers against his chest.
Kageyama rubs his thumbs into Hinata’s stiff shoulders, coaxing his boyfriend’s body to relax. “I’m going to take care of you tonight, Shoyo.”
Kageyama feels Hinata’s body freeze for a moment as if he stopped breathing, but the tension abruptly drops from his shoulders and he melts into Kageyama’s arms, inhaling deeply as he burrows his face into the comfort that is Kageyama.
“Come on, let’s go finish up. I’ll meet you in the clubroom.” Kageyama says quietly against Hinata’s ear, squeezing his boyfriend one last time before letting him go.
Hinata looks up at him with soft cheeks reddened by a different kind of blush and bright eyes that burn with all sorts of emotions Kageyama can’t exactly put his finger on.
He jerks his head away at the swelling in his chest that he still hasn’t completely gotten used to, swelling caused by how fucking cute Shoyo is, how it makes his breath hot and his heart feel like it’s on fire. He’s still not used to how fucking gay he is, either.
“C-Cutie,” Kageyama mutters.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Hm? If it’s nothing, then don’t say it.”
Hinata takes the mop and goes out to join the rest of them in cleaning up.
At least he’s back to normal. Kageyama thinks, trying to rub the blush out of his face.
It’s almost frightening how easy it is for Kageyama to calm his boyfriend, though it’s not for lack of practice. He’s been responsible for keeping Hinata’s nerves under control since their first match before they had even voiced their feelings for one another.
It was harder then, finding the right words to say or thing to do that might make Hinata stop fucking shaking, but after Hinata leapt into his arms and kissed him in the empty clubroom the night they defeated Aoba Johsai, Kageyama learned that physical touch was the quickest way to alleviate Hinata’s anxiety. Physical touch that involves rubbing his hands against Hinata’s soft back, playing with his orange hair, kissing the top of his head, holding him close enough that nothing in the entire fucking world could penetrate Kageyama’s hold on the one person who has been his reason since he first saw him in junior high.
Hinata has always been Kageyama’s reason. For everything. Why Kageyama went to Karasuno, why Kageyama changed so drastically as a setter, why Kageyama realized he was gay, why Kageyama gets out of bed in the morning, why Kageyama learned how equally fucking shitty and spectacular falling in love is.
He’s never liked the idea of having to come out, because it’s Hinata and it’s only Hinata and it will only ever be Hinata, and being gay is just a minor detail that people have way too many unnecessary feelings about. Kageyama’s in love with Hinata. That’s all anyone will ever need to know.
And now, the night before Hinata’s birthday, Kageyama’s present is fucking Hinata into oblivion.
It’s what Hinata’s been asking for, every time he’d go down on Kageyama and every time Kageyama’s fingers were in his ass and when he was straddling Kageyama’s waist as they made out for what seemed like hours, tasting each other’s lips until the sun went down and all that was left was the sound of cicadas and warm air at the window and rich yellow sunlight casting shadows on the sheets they laid on. He would beg for his boyfriend to be inside him, widening his eyes and licking his lips with the same look he uses when silently asking for a toss, a look that Kageyama wanted to give into more than anything. But he wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not until now. And it’s why Hinata’s drenched in anxiety today, even though he’s the one who’s been insisting.
Even after weeks of looking up articles and watching videos and reading forums with the fear of accidentally hurting Hinata in mind, Kageyama’s nervous as hell, too, but Hinata is supposed to be excited. Shouldn’t he be?
Kageyama’s gaze doesn’t wander far from his boyfriend while they put everything away.
Tsukki starts to say something snarky about Hinata needing to throw up, but Kageyama steps between them and glares up before he can, gripping Hinata’s shoulders behind him. With a smirk, Tsukki adjusts his glasses but lets it go.
“The king is a little overbearing today, don’t you think?” He mumbles to Yamaguchi.
As they gather in the clubroom to change, Nishinoya throws himself onto Hinata’s shoulders, Tanaka appearing close behind.
“Shoyo!!!” Noya yells, punching Hinata’s shoulder in succession. “Happy early birthday!!! Tanaka and I got you something!”
“W-what?! Y-you did?!!” Hinata flinches but his face lights up at the sparkle in Noya’s eyes. No one could resist smiling at that.
“Yea!! Here!!”
He hands Hinata a slightly crinkled gift bag with tissue paper and bits of newspaper stuffed into it to hide whatever the present is. Hinata shakes it next to his ear, quivering with excitement when he hears something sliding around.
“You can’t tell what it is by shaking the bag, dumbass.” Kageyama grumbles.
Hinata ignores his boyfriend, instead jumping up and down to expel some of his pent-up excitement and proclaiming, “It’s a volleyball! I can tell, it’s definitely a volleyball!”
Noya and Tanaka burst out in laughter. Suga leans into Daichi’s shoulder to suppress his own chuckle, and Tsukki and Yamaguchi hold back tears.
“Dumbass! A volleyball couldn’t fit in that!” Kageyama yells.
“It could! You don’t know, Bakageyama!”
Hinata furrows his eyebrows at his boyfriend in defiance before turning his attention back to his gift. Kageyama makes sure to maintain the scowl on his face so no one can tell how fucking cute he thinks that was.
“Go on, open it,” Tanaka slaps his hand against Hinata’s back, hard.
“Okay!”
Hinata doesn’t hesitate to tear the tissue paper and toss it on the floor, yanking his gift out of the bag for everyone to see with a smile that makes Kageyama have to physically restrain himself from scooping up his boyfriend and smothering him with kisses.
“Oooh!! It’s a shirt! A volleyball shirt!” Hinata unfolds the blue fabric so he can read what the characters say on the front.
Great talents mature late.
“It’s so cool! Nishinoya senpai, Tanaka senpai, thank you!”
Noya and Tanaka throw themselves onto Hinata once again, punching him lightly and ruffling his soft hair and laughing, beaming with the pride that comes from seniority.
Suga and Daichi pat Hinata’s shoulder and wish him a happy birthday as they leave together holding hands, Fridays being their date nights. Yamaguchi gives Hinata a small container of home-made rice balls before Tsukki drags them out, probably to play video games at Yamaguchi’s house, and Noya gives Hinata a high-five from atop Asahi’s back as they leave together, as well.
Ukai explicitly warned them about relationships among teammates, but here they are, managing to have four couples on one team. Noya always jokes that all the queer kids join the volleyball club, and given the number of couples they know on other teams, he’s not wrong. Oikawa and Iwaizumi, Bokuto and Akaashi, Kuroo and Kenma, Lev and Yaku, Ushijima and Tendou. Asahi and Nishinoya, Tsukki and Yamaguchi, Daichi and Suga, even Kiyoko and Yachi. And now Kageyama and Hinata.
Unlike the others, though, Kageyama and Hinata decided they didn’t want the rest of the team to know when they started dating and took precautions to keep it that way. Except it backfired when the fighting and insults and perceived annoyance with one another got worse, worse to the point that Suga knew there was something else going on. But they don’t know that.
“Oi, Kageyama,” Tanaka whispers loudly, pulling Kageyama aside once it’s just them and Hinata left in the clubroom. “Consider this your early birthday present.”
“What?”
Before Kageyama can object, Tanaka shoves a small box into his hand and smirks as he leaves, waving a final goodbye to Hinata. Kageyama nearly has a heart attack when he looks down at the box of condoms in his palm.
“Kageyama,” Hinata adjusts the strap of his bag and pops up behind his boyfriend trying to see what Tanaka gave him, but Kageyama stuffs it into his pocket before he can.
“I-It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
“It’s not nothing! What is it? What did Tanaka give you?” Hinata reaches for Kageyama’s pocket but he steps out of reach.
“Nothing.”
“Let me see!”
Despite his best effort to dodge him, Hinata sneaks in between Kageyama’s arms and snags the small box in his pocket. The blush on his cheeks is brighter than his hair when realization sets in.
“Oh.”
“Yeah…”
They stand for a moment in silence, neither wanting to verbalize what they’re both thinking. Kageyama steps forward and starts to say something, anything to end the silence and make the blushes on their cheeks fade, but Hinata slips the box into his own bag and puts his hands against Kageyama’s chest to stop him. Kageyama freezes as his boyfriend rests his head against him.
“Kageyama,” he says softly. “Your heart’s beating too fast.”
For a long time, they stay just like this. Kageyama rests his hand against Hinata’s hair with as much tenderness as if he were worried about waking him up. Hinata wraps his arms around Kageyama’s waist and drinks in his scent. Just like this.
At some point, Hinata lets go but only to intertwine their fingers as they finally leave the clubroom.
The sun is low in the sky, drenching their skin in golden light and making Hinata’s caramel eyes sparkle brighter than anything Kageyama’s ever seen before.
“You’re… beautiful.” He says as coherently as he can.
Hinata looks up at him with wide eyes. He squeezes Kageyama’s hand tighter.
“N-no, you are.” He looks away.
They’re still really bad at complimenting one another, even though Kageyama’s sure he could come up with a thousand things that he absolutely adores about his boyfriend.
“Do you wanna get something to eat before we go back to my house?” Kageyama asks.
Hinata nods, and that’s that.
Anything, Shoyo. Do you know that? Anything for you.
They slide into a booth at a place that’s only five minutes from Kageyama’s house and order enough food for five people knowing that it still won’t be enough for them.
Feeling more at ease, Hinata starts filling in his boyfriend on all the news with Kenma and the Nekoma team and even Bokuto (who texted him a few days ago), and his younger sister’s junior volleyball team and how he thinks his Mom is making him his favorite meal for his birthday.
Maybe on the outside, it doesn’t look like Kageyama is paying any attention with his occasional nods and grunts as he sips the glass of strawberry milk he got, but he is. He really is. He eats up every perfect word that comes out of Hinata’s perfect mouth and stores it away to cherish and remember, because what’s important to Hinata is important to him.
“So,” Hinata swallows and shifts in his seat. “D-Did you tell Tanaka? About, you know, us?”
Kageyama goes rigid in his seat.
“No, I have no clue why he… Why he…” He trails off, but they both know what he’s trying to say.
“It’s because you’re always staring at me at practice.”
“No, I’m not. And besides, I have to watch you when we’re practicing. How else am I supposed to toss to you, dumbass.”
“Well I didn’t tell him!”
“Maybe- Maybe we’re being too obvious.” Kageyama says, a little bit of heat tinting his face.
“Hm? How? I’ve even started glaring at you when you’re not looking.”
“Dumbass! That’s unnecessary. We’re definitely being too obvious.”
“Do you think everyone else knows, too?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Hinata stares at his hands on the table and Kageyama looks at a street sign through the window.
“H-How did he know about... tonight.” Hinata mumbles.
Kageyama looks back at his boyfriend, his heart swelling in a familiar way at his furrowed eyebrows and the pink on his nose. He puts his hand over Hinata’s and moves his thumb in a gentle, circular motion against his skin.
“I don’t think he does. He probably just assumed we would…” He swallows. “It’s okay, Hinata. They were going to find out anyway.”
Hinata nods but doesn’t look at Kageyama.
“That’s why you were nervous today, right?” Kageyama says.
But then their food finally comes and they’re distracted for a few minutes as they eat, though neither of them eat as quickly as they usually do. Hinata sips a little bit of tea and clears his throat.
“Yeah,” is all he says.
Kageyama nods.
“You don’t have anything to be nervous about. I, um, I did my research.” He sounds like such a fucking nerd when he says it that way.
“It isn’t like volleyball, Bakageyama!”
Kageyama gets distracted by how Hinata’s hair bounces as he speaks.
“I know that! But I just- wanted to be prepared.”
Hinata’s grumbles something (and it’s cute as fuck) but continues to eat.
“Hinata,” Kageyama starts. “You know we don’t have to do this. We can wait until you’re-”
“No. I’m ready. I want you. Tonight.”
For a moment, Kageyama watches for any sign of hesitation on his boyfriend’s face, but he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Hinata look so resolute about anything. Maybe he looks like this when he’s about to spike… Kageyema nods once. He thinks about how badly he wants to lean over and kiss the top of Hinata’s perfect nose.
They finish all of the food they bought as expected, gather their things, and start off to Kageyama’s house. Despite being in a somewhat angsty mood, Hinata grabs Kageyama’s hand the moment they step out onto the sidewalk. Kageyama presses a kiss against the top of his head. They’re both anxious, that’s all.
“Let’s watch a movie!” Hinata decides as they put their things down and take off their shoes at the door. Kageyama’s mom is traveling this weekend so they have the house to themselves.
While Hinata looks for something to put on the TV, Kageyama changes into a black t-shirt and the sweatpants that Hinata once told him he looked “really good” in.
He just likes it because he can see my dick. Kageyama thinks.
He doesn’t wear anything underneath them and Hinata seems to notice when Kageyama comes back into the living room by the way he licks his lips.
As the movie starts playing, Hinata takes up his favorite position against Kageyama’s lap, with his boyfriend’s arms around his neck and his cheek against his chest. Kageyama assumes it’s his favorite position because he’s in perfect view of his dick and can hear Kagayama’s heartbeat in his ear.
They only ever watch about thirty minutes before getting occupied with other things, but today it takes longer and Hinata only starts brushing his lips against Kageyama’s neck and jaw once the movie is almost over. Hinata places soft kisses along his boyfriend’s collarbone and starts nibbling, too, leaving small red marks along Kageyama’s skin. He kisses and bites up his neck until he gets to his lips. Kageyama accepts Hinata’s mouth against his hungrily and lets his boyfriend’s tongue run along his own and against his teeth, shuddering as Hinata’s fingers find the edge of his t-shirt.
Hinata traces Kageyama’s v-line and drags his hands up Kageyama’s torso, over his muscles and around to his back and across his belly button and up to his chest where he gently squeezes his boyfriend’s nipples.
Kageyama doesn’t like to moan, he doesn’t like the feeling of needing to moan, but Hinata makes it impossible not to. He’s never even dated someone before Kageyama, and yet Hinata knows exactly how to move his fingers over his body in just the right way, in just the right fucking places.
As Hinata climbs onto Kageyama’s lap fully, straddling him in a dangerous way, Kageyama fits his hands on either side of Hinata’s waist. He presses his fingertips into his boyfriend’s soft flesh to hold him in place. That simple touch alone elicits a breathy moan from Hinata. Kageyama can’t help the way those sounds make his dick hot below his waistband, and Hinata knows that, too.
Their kiss becomes rougher and Hinata’s hands more frantic and Kageyama’s grip tighter, but he doesn’t stop Hinata when he starts to grind his ass against his sweatpants. Kageyama lets out a low groan at that, biting down on Hinata’s lip and making him moan even louder. The sound makes Kageyama’s length fully hard, and he can feel Hinata’s dick pressing against his own.
He stops Hinata from grinding into him anymore and breaks from the kiss, putting his lips roughly against Hinata’s neck and leaving his own marks. He lets every moment at practice today that he wanted to slam Hinata against a wall and kiss him until he was breathless control his body, as he tastes every inch of his boyfriend that he can and cherishes the desperate noises in his ear. Hinata tries to hump into Kageyama again, but he’s stopped by Kageyama’s grip.
Instead, he reaches for Kageyama’s waistband and slides his hand down until he feels Kageyama’s deliciously long length against his skin. Kageyama can’t suppress the moan that bubbles out of his throat as Hinata delicately runs his fingers up and down him, somehow making him even harder in the most painful yet fucking amazing way.
“S-Shoyo…” He whispers, tossing his head back against the couch and enjoying the feeling of his boyfriend’s skin on his.
But when Hinata tries to remove his sweatpants completely, he grabs his hands by his wrists, puts them around his neck, and hitches his legs around his waist before standing up.
“Not here,” he whispers into Hinata’s ear.
He turns off the TV on his way to the staircase, neither of them having paid any attention to the movie from the start. From the corner of his eye, he vaguely registers that it’s about 11:15 PM.
Hinata doesn’t resist as Kageyama carries him like that upstairs to his bedroom, all the while biting and kissing Kageyama’s neck and scraping his nails against the back of his t-shirt until Kageyama rests him on the bed.
“It’s your birthday, dumbass. I’m supposed to be making you feel good.” Kageyama mutters.
He turns the lamp next to his bed on, and then reaches for another switch. A vine of fairy lights around his bed shine to life. Hinata gasps softly, his whole face brightening with the decorations, and that look alone gives Kageyama enough dopamine for the rest of his fucking life.
He cups Hinata’s chin as he crawls onto the bed beside him, and slides Hinata’s sweatshirt up and over his body, tossing it onto the floor. Climbing over him, Kageyama can feel the bulge in Hinata’s pants against his own. Hinata moans at the feeling, but he’s silenced by Kageyama’s lips on his.
Kissing is one of the best fucking things in the world according to Kageyama. Specifically kissing Hinata. If he let him, Kageyama could lose himself in the feeling of Hinata’s soft lips moving against his own, the taste of his sweet mouth, the quiet gasps that blossom from his throat when Kageyama pulls back for a moment for hours and hours and hours, and he usually does. But he knows Hinata’s desperate for more tonight.
He gazes down at Hinata’s bare abdomen, greedily taking in all of his pale, well-muscled build and feeling pride bubbling in his chest knowing that Hinata is his. Anything, everything, beyond everything for Shoyo. In this life and the next life and the life after. Shoyo, Shoyo, Shoyo.
He takes Hinata’s nipples in his fingers and relishes in the borderline scream that erupts from Hinata as the smaller boy arches his back and bites his lip at the sensation. He smirks at how sensitive Hinata is today. That’s a good sign.
“K-Kageyama, that- feels so… g-good,” he manages to say.
“It’s supposed to.”
Kageyama’s smirk widens and he pushes his mouth down against Hinata’s once again. His hands wander over Hinata’s quivering body, feeling his boyfriend turn into a mess beneath him already and loving every moment of it.
Kageyama pulls back from the kiss and stops torturing Hinata’s nipples, resulting in a groan from Hinata, before yanking his own shirt off. He starts pulling Hinata’s shorts off, but Hinata puts his hand on Kagayama’s chest.
“I-It’s my turn,” he says, somewhat out of breath.
Kageyama doesn’t have time to react before Hinata scrambles out from under him and latches his fingers onto Kageyama’s waistband. The look he gives Kageyama screams Off without needing to say it.
Kageyama slides off the bed and faces Hinata as he pulls his sweatpants down, kicking them off completely. Hinata’s eyes glaze over as the way Kageyama’s dick springs up entrances him. (Kageyama sort of did that on purpose because he likes the way Hinata’s mesmerized by his length, but he would never say it out loud.)
As soon as he climbs back onto the bed, Hinata pounces on him with such eagerness that Kageyama falls flat onto his back. Hinata positions himself with his mouth just above Kageyama’s dick and his ass up in the air, his hot breath brushing against Kageyama’s length.
“Please.” He murmurs.
Kageyama’s eyes are wide as he nods.
He doesn’t have enough time to even blink before Hinata’s tongue is against his shaft, leaving a wet trail from his base to his head and eliciting a sinful noise from his throat. Hinata’s small fingers close around the base and pump him slowly while his lips close around his head. Kageyama resists the urge to throw his head back and squeeze his eyes shut, instead forcing himself to watch his boyfriend. Hinata gazes back at him through his eyelashes.
Soon after they started dating, they learned they shared the desire to maintain eye contact. Always.
Hinata’s tongue swirls around his head in the most illegal fucking ways, mixing his pre-cum with his saliva and sucking him like his entire life’s purpose to suck Kageyama Tobio dry, all the while his hands feeling up the rest of his length. Kageyama’s fingers find Hinata’s hair and he tugs him wildly, desperate for more.
“Fuck.” Kageyama groans.
His hips fuck up into Hinata’s mouth, and Hinata takes him so fucking well as his dick slams into the back of his throat.
“Y-you’re… so… fucking good, Shoyo. You’re so good for me.”
Hinata whimpers, gagging on Kageyama’s length but continuing to run his tongue along whatever skin he can find and pumping his base with his hands.
Kageyama’s too close for comfort, he knows, but as much as he wants to cum right here and right now and let himself explode into Hinata’s throat, that’s not Hinata’s birthday present. He relaxes his hips and pushes Hinata’s shoulders back gently.
He can’t help but groan at how beautiful Hinata looks with his dick sliding out of his mouth, gleaming with his saliva.
Hinata breathes raggedly and wipes his mouth with his arm. He shakily pulls his shorts and briefs down, discarding them off the bed and climbs over his boyfriend. Kageyama runs a finger up Hinata’s dick, and while the smaller boy lets out a high-pitched moan, he guides Kageyama’s hand away.
“I d-don’t wanna wait anymore.” He breathes. “I want my birthday present. I want you inside me, Kageyama. Now.”
Kageyama watches Hinata closely again, and he only finds pure want in his brown eyes. They’re really doing this.
“Do you have lube? I brought my own, but it’s in my bag downstairs.”
“No, yes, I have some. Hold on,” Kageyama pulls open the drawer of his nightstand and nearly drops the small bottle as he pulls it out. “Um, it’s strawberry. I hope that’s okay. It sort of reminded me of you...”
“Bakageyama. Of course it’s okay.”
“R-Right. How do you, um, how do you wanna do this?”
Hinata answers instantly, like he’s been waiting for someone to ask. “I wanna ride you.”
Kageyama swallows, his dick twitching at the words. He nods.
Struggling to open the cap at first, he finally pops it open and lets a generous amount fall into his palm. He lathers his hands in it, making sure that his index, middle, and ring fingers on his right hand are drenched the most.
“Like this,” Hinata says. He pulls Kageyama up into a sitting position with his legs wide and moves himself so that he’s sitting with his back resting against Kageyama’s chest, his head draped over Kageyama’s shoulder. He spreads his knees and shivers at the feeling of Kageyama’s wet dick pushing against his ass.
Guiding Kageyama’s fingers down to his entrance, he gives him a slight nod.
Kageyama feels around the area for a moment, getting used to the feeling of the lube on his fingers and watching Hinata’s reactions carefully as he pushes a fingertip against his hole. He slides a hesitant finger about a centimeter inside of him.
Hinata grimaces, letting out a painful moan, but nods again after a moment. Kageyama slides in deeper and then stops. Hinata moans and breathes, nodding when he’s ready for more. They continue like this until his finger is fully submerged into Hinata.
“A-Another,” Hinata groans.
Kageyama gently pushes his middle finger up into his boyfriend, making sure to be just as cautious as with the first finger even though he’s taking this one better. When he starts to move them, Hinata snaps his eyes shut and seethes through his teeth, but he bites against Kageyama’s neck when Kageyama stops.
“K-Keep going… It feels… so good.”
“Are you sure?”
“Y-Yes. I’m just g-getting used t-to it. Don’t s-stop, Tobio...”
Kageyama growls softly hearing his name in Hinata’s breathy voice, and he immediately begins to pump his fingers inside his boyfriend. Hinata makes all sorts of amazing noises right into Kageyama’s ears as he stretches him out. Adding a third finger makes Hinata’s body convulse, and he cries out, but Kageyama can tell it’s a sound of pleasure. His patience doesn’t run out as he preps Hinata, but his dick becomes more and more prevalent in his mind as he wishes he could be inside him rather than his fingers.
Finally, Hinata breathes at him to stop.
“I’m ready,” He says.
His body stutters at how empty he feels once Kageyama pulls his hand away, and he struggles to readjust so his hips are straddling Kageyama.
Kageyama cups Hinata’s face again. He brushes his thumb along his boyfriend’s bottom lip, pushing into his mouth so he can feel Hinata’s tongue against his fingertip.
“Do you want to use a condom?”
Hinata pauses for a moment, but then shakes his head.
Kageyama brushes a wisp of orange hair away from Hinata’s forehead.
As he adjusts so that he’s flat on his back again, dick stiff and leaking onto his stomach, Hinata picks up the bottle of lube and pours some into his hand. He spits into it and onto the tip of Kageyama’s dick. Kageyama inhales sharply as Hinata rubs the chilly fluid up and down his length, swirling the tip of his thumb onto Kageyama’s head and loving the sigh that escapes his boyfriend’s mouth.
“A-Are you ready?”
“Yeah, I am, babe. Are you?”
Hinata nods. A small droplet of sweat glitters against his forehead, making its way down Hinata’s flushed cheeks and past his swollen lips that glisten pink from Kageyama’s kisses, his orange hair slightly damp but still light and tousled from Kageyama’s fingers, and Kageyama finds himself absolutely fucking useless beneath the ethereal beauty that is his boyfriend.
“I love you, Shoyo.” Kageyama blurts out.
Oh, shit. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck me.
Neither of them have ever said it before, and he definitely never imagined saying it while they’re on top of each other naked with his dick pushing up into Hinata’s ass.
Hinata blushes and his eyes go wide.
He stares at Kageyama.
Kageyama stares back at him.
“I love you more.”
Hinata says it simply, with the nonchalance that comes with saying a universal truth anyone and everyone should already know.
“That’s impossible, dumbass.”
“No, it’s not, because I love you more than volleyball and there’s no way you could love me even more than that.”
Kageyama just watches him. And then he throws his arms around Hinata and pulls him down to squeeze against his chest because there are no words for how fucking dorky his boyfriend is or how much that makes him burst with love for him. Since when did he fall in love with such a nerd, God.
“Dumbass,” he whispers.
Hinata smiles against his chest and pulls himself out of Kageyama’s grip back into his position straddling him.
“Please.” He begs.
Kageyama places his hands securely on Hinata’s waist.
With a shaky breath at his lips, Hinata picks up his hips and takes Kageyama’s dick into his hand, guiding it to his entrance and getting used to the sensation of his tip applying pressure against him. He holds Kageyama’s length steady as he rolls his ass down ever so fucking slowly. Centimeter by centimeter, letting out a long, pitchy moan as Kageyama’s dick stretches him out more than he could have ever imagined.
Every vein and nerve in Kageyama’s length boils with the tightness of Hinata around him, and it takes all of his resolve to keep his body unmoving while Hinata adjusts to him. He lets out a string of expletives once Hinata finally bottoms out. The feeling is unreal.
They stay still for a moment, regaining their composure and inhaling raggedly.
“God, fuck, Shoyo, you’re so fucking tight.”
“Y-You’re j-just so… big,” Hinata retorts in between gasps.
Kageyama nearly loses it when Hinata swivels his ass against him. He throws his arm across his face, shading his eyes, but Hinata pulls it away. Eye contact.
“O-Okay. I’m gonna m-move now,” Hinata says.
“Take your t-time. I want you to feel comfortable, okay? I want you to f-feel so fucking good, Shoyo.”
Hinata whimpers and bites his lip at that. And then, he pushes himself up, letting Kageyama almost slide out of him with a wet sound that should be repulsive but only makes Kageyama’s pupils dilate. Just when his dick is about to slip out of his ass completely, Hinata lowers himself back down with a moan. Kageyama digs his fingers into Hinata’s flesh.
Hinata raises himself again and falls back down, over and over and over at an agonizing pace. Kageyama can tell he’s in pain, but the way his face scrunches up every time he slides back down against Kageyama’s dick and the pitiful noises he’s making tell otherwise. After several minutes, he leans back and puts his hands down on Kageyama’s thighs, swivelling his hips once more.
And then he starts to fucking bounce.
Kageyama loses his restraint, and he starts to buck up into his ass while his hands push Hinata down onto him, harder and harder. Hinata cries out at the sensation, but he only speeds up his movements.
“S-Shoyo…. So good.... S-So good for me, Shoyo…. You’re t-taking me so w-well…” Kageyama pants.
Each time Kageyama’s dick slams into his core, Hinata’s head falls back limply and he moans out Tobio’s name. Tobio Tobio Tobio. He chants it like his life depends on that name, like he can’t live without that sweet name on his tongue, and he really can’t.
On one particular thrust, Hinata shrieks with pleasure as Kageyama hits there. He almost loses his balance but Kageyama’s grip holds him in place.
“There, there, there, there, Kageyama, there, please, Tobio, there!” Hinata shouts as Kageyama bucks up into the same spot again. “Fuck me, Tobio. F-Fuck me.”
Kageyama growls and easily flips them so Hinata is pinned beneath him, his dick still plenty deep inside his ass. He places his hands on either side of him, Hinata wrapping his arms around his neck and legs around his waist, and he begins to thrust into Hinata as hard as he fucking can.
It’s easy for him to pinpoint Hinata’s prostate again, with how fucking desperate Hinata acts when he does. He half-grunts, half-moans every time he slams into Hinata, letting his instincts take over his body entirely.
“T-Tobio, I’m-”
“I know, I know babe. Come for me.”
Kageyama keeps hitting the spot that makes Hinata cry out and scrape against his back and quiver violently until Hinata lets out his loudest moan yet, loud enough the whole fucking country can probably hear it. Kageyama’s vaguely aware of hot, white liquid splashing against his abdomen as Hinata arches his back.
Kageyama picks up his pace even more knowing that Hinata already came, torturing Hinata’s prostate as he continues to pound his dick into it. His orgasm washes over him before he realizes it. He lets out a deep groan, his hips stuttering into Hinata a few more times. It’s like electricity shooting through his body as he has the best fucking orgasm of his life. He fills Hinata completely and then some.
There’s just the sound of gasping in the dim bedroom for a long time.
Kageyama tilts his head to look at Hinata. The smaller boy lies with his arms extended out on either side of him and his eyes focused on the fairy lights above them, his chest rising and falling and his body shivering slightly, not from cold, but from the intensity of his first orgasm. If this is what Hinata’s always going to look like post-sex, Kageyama wants to fuck him every night.
“Shoyo. Talk to me.”
“Hm? About what?”
He might look absolutely fucked, but he has the same naive tone that he always does.
“Are you happy?” Kageyama asks.
Hinata snuggles closer to his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around Kageyama’s chest and hitching his leg over Kageyama’s thighs. Kageyama mindlessly brings his hand up to play with Hinata’s hair.
“Of course I’m happy. That was… Better than I thought it would be.”
“Did you think it would be that bad?”
“No. I thought it would be perfect. But it was better than perfect.”
He kisses Kageyama’s collarbone, and Kageyama kisses the top of his head. The digital clock next to his bed flashes in his peripheral vision. 12:01 AM.
“Look, it’s midnight. Happy birthday, Shoyo.”
“Let’s do this again for my next birthday. And on holidays, too!”
Kageyama’s heart quite literally skips a beat.
“Your next birthday… You m-mean… Next year?”
“Yeah. What else would I mean?”
“You wanna be with me for another year?”
Hinata perks his head up at the dread on Kageyama’s face. It’s Hinata and it’s only Hinata and it will only ever be Hinata, but that’s just how Kageyama feels. Hinata’s too good to be his. He doesn’t deserve him, he knows that, so he always focuses on the time they have together now, and not their inevitable departure when they go to different schools and join different teams and lead different lives. That’s what Kageyama always feared in the back of his mind.
But Hinata gives him a puzzled look as he sits up on his elbows.
“I want to be with you for a lot longer than another year. Only if you want to, but I thought you did. Don’t you?”
Kageyama cups Hinata’s face with both of his hands.
“Shoyo. I want to be with you for the rest of my life.”
“Good. Me, too.”
Kageyama wonders if Hinata can hear the chaos his heart is in as Hinata rests his head back down against his chest.
Lacing their fingers together, Kageyama feels contentment wash over his body and mind. He’ll never want anything else. He already has everything.
For your next birthday, and the one after that, and the one after that, and the one after that. Whatever you want.
