Thursday.

It was clear to the whole team that something was up with Kageyama. Out of nowhere he was playing badly just as the match with Seijoh was on  the horizon –

‘Kageyama, come here,’ Daichi took Kageyama to one side.

Kageyama couldn’t help it – he glanced at Hinata who was staring at him, along with everybody else.

‘Apart from you praising Hinata you’ve been very quiet this week, is everything alright?’

Kageyama’s mind was on loop: had they been together last night? Or  did Hinata meet someone else? Who would Hinata meet if it wasn’t Oikawa?  Did he have a girlfriend? Exactly how many friends did the moron have?

‘I’m – fine,’ Kageyama replied to the floor, not meeting Daichi’s gaze.

Oikawa hadn’t answered him at the confrontation; Kageyama had no idea if there was something more going on between them but surely the dumbass wasn’t that stupid if that snake did hit on the spiker –  or was he just being paranoid? Maybe there really was nothing more. Maybe their relationship was just about the serving –

Kageyama had felt like short, sharp teeth were eating him alive last night in bed as he tossed and turned at the thought of Oikawa and Hinata together. But – what Kageyama couldn’t understand – was why did it bother him so much? It was like a switch in his brain had been flicked on and he couldn’t shut it off and couldn’t think about anything else. And now, just as they had a fucking practice match approaching he  couldn’t even concentrate –

‘You do realise we’re playing Seijoh, against Oikawa, your  archenemy, on Sunday, right? You have today and tomorrow to make it  count if you want to beat that guy. I’m guessing you have some stuff  going on and the team are here for you if you ever want to talk. But  don’t waste this opportunity. You’re better than him.’

Kageyama raised his head and met Daichi’s eyes: in them he found faith, strength and encouragement.

Whatever emotions that sloshed around Kageyama suddenly crystallised and broke –

The pieces came together. The pieces of this million-piece jigsaw puzzle suddenly fit to make one miraculous picture –

He’s right.

‘You can beat him,’ Daichi said. ‘You know you can. And you will.’

I’m better than him.

Kageyama looked over at the bouncing ball of orange.

And I’ll prove it to you.

If Kageyama was stronger, if he won –

Then –

It would make me the stronger setter.

Suddenly the cave Kageyama had been trapped in, the well he couldn’t climb out of, this dark, inescapable suffering hole, had light and a way  out –

No compromise. No risks. No maybes or ifs just pure, cold fact –

If Kageyama won the match Hinata wouldn’t need Oikawa anymore.

He wouldn’t need to get stronger with that viper because he’d prefer to be taught by his own setter… All of this… would end… I’ll be the one teaching Hinata and he will come back to me… We can spend more time… together…

The answer.

It was the answer Kageyama hadn’t even known existed.

Daichi’s words were like a tonic. Coach almost tore his hair out in happy bewilderment as Kageyama suddenly became again who he always was –  a genius, talented first year setter.

‘Alright Kageyama!’ Suga cheered.

After an extended and successful practice, and parting with the rest  of the pumped up team, Kageyama found himself walking his usual route,  alone with Hinata. They walked for a minute or so in tense silence, the  air between them thick like cheesecake, waiting to be cut.

‘Kageyama,’ Hinata hesitated, eyes to the ground. ‘You seem… different lately.’

Kageyama watched the spiker out of the corner of his eye. ‘So do you.’

Hinata looked up and met his gaze. Kageyama raised an eyebrow –

‘How was your night last night? You had to rush off.’

Hinata gazed straight ahead. ‘I saw a friend.’

‘A friend?’

‘A classmate came round for dinner.’

A classmate. It was only a classmate. A weight as heavy as a 40,000 pound truck lifted off of Kageyama. So. Maybe he was being paranoid. Maybe there was nothing to worry about at all. Well. Kageyama knew if he didn’t act now then he never would –

‘So, er, tomorrow. After practice. My mom’s making tamago kake gohan, your favourite dish, right? So, um, would you like to come over and have some, with us, if you’re not busy?’

The whole time, Hinata observed, Kageyama spoke to the houses, the sky, the trees, just not to him. But –

He’s being nicer than usual. This whole week. He’s never this friendly. Maybe finally he’s making the effort to be a friend –

‘Sure!’ Hinata replied.

Is he blushing? Hinata watched Kageyama get flustered, still not meeting the spiker’s eyes.

‘OK, er, yeah, cool. Yeah. So see you tomorrow.’ Kageyama walked off leaving Hinata behind.

Hinata stared in bemused amusement.

Finally. Maybe now… we can actually be friends.

Friday’s practice.

Kageyama nailed it. He played the best volleyball he’d played in  weeks and everyone noticed. Hinata did too – the spiker’s serves weren’t  the most powerful in the room but he could aim and hit it with enough  force to keep the opposite team on their toes.

Oikawa, Kageyama hated to admit whilst watching Hinata serve, really is something.

Everyone stayed a bit later, practising harder, amped up for their match against Seijoh on Sunday.

‘I wonder why they offered us another practice match so suddenly out  of the blue,’ Suga said as they were finishing tidying up. ‘Maybe  something to do with Kageyama again?’

‘Who knows,’ Daichi sighed. ‘Lets just make the most of their offer.’

After everyone packed up and left, and as the club disbanded at  various crossroads, Hinata and Kageyama continued walking towards  Kageyama’s house, the same tension as last night settling between them.  Hinata wasn’t too bothered by this. Kageyama, on the the other hand, had his palms sweating, his eyes looked straight ahead as he wracked his  brain as to what he could talk to Hinata about without bringing up He  Who Must Not Be Named. He had yearned for this, some alone time with his  spiker but now that he got it, he didn’t know what to do with it.

They said nothing. They walked in silence to Kageyama’s house. 

When they got there, his mother warmly welcomed Hinata back in again, the  middle blocker having only been over briefly once before. During dinner,  Kageyama hardly said anything, his mother and Hinata doing all the talking, mostly about the earthquake, with his mom sharing all the drama  about Kageyama’s dad’s broken leg.

‘Tobi was such a darling he basically carried his dad out of the car when we got to the hospital -’

‘You never told me that Kageyama!’ Hinata chimed.

‘And he’s been helping out around the house ever since! What about you? Where were you when it happened?’

‘Me? Oh. Er, I was in a cafe in Sendai.’

Kageyama’s mother nodded encouragingly, for Hinata to continue.

‘And well… I was supposed to meet a friend but he was running late so I ended bumping into – someone else I know. That’s when the earthquake started. And this other person… he was – well – he was standing under this massive chandelier that fell -’

‘Goodness! Is he alright?’

‘I managed to push him out of the way.’

‘Hinata! That’s very brave and very risky, isn’t it Tobio? Were you both OK?’

‘I cut my leg and he… carried me through broken glass to a safe spot under a table. But his hands… are scarred.’

‘Excuse me. Bathroom -’ without waiting for approval, Kageyama got up and left and locked himself in the bathroom.

He gripped the sink, lowered his head and closed his eyes. Blood swirled in his ears. The tenderness that had been in Hinata’s voice made  Kageyama want to ram his fist into the mirror to see his blood, to hear the crack, to admire splintered glass. Maybe then he’d wake up from this nightmare. He splashed his face with cold water instead and then  returned to the worst meal he’d ever eaten in his life.

‘Are you alright, dear?’

‘I’m fine.’

After dinner Hinata insisted helping with the washing up but  Kageyama’s mom dispatched them to watch a movie with some Pocky and  seaweed flavoured spicy rice crackers. They put on Avatar, because  Hinata had never seen it and sat, Kageyama on the left side of the sofa  with his feet on the floor, and Hinata on the right, with his back  against the arm, and his legs stretched out in front of him almost  touching the setter. The lights were off. The only brightness came from  the flickering colours of the TV screen, changing, morphing. From  another room, a faint clatter of pots and pans as Kageyama’s mom cleaned  up in the kitchen.

Kageyama moved his left knee further out, and, without meaning to,  accidentally pressed and rested against the ball of Hinata’s foot, just above his knee –

BAM.

A torrent of emotions rushed at Kageyama, sudden, violent – a  tsunami. Waves and tides flooded through the setter, his heart like an open dam, he couldn’t concentrate on what was in front of him because all he could register was that soft, warm, innocent skin touching him –

Kageyama swallowed. He couldn’t move. His hands were sweating. His face was passive, he continued to stare at the screen as still as a  statue. To an onlooker nothing in that moment had changed. But in reality, nothing was the same.

Ever so gently, Hinata extracted his foot and bent his knee on the sofa.

But the damage had already been done.

Kageyama was staring at the screen but Hinata was staring at him.

He’s hardly said anything since we left practice.

‘Kageyama.’

Kageyama’s heart throbbed.

Ever so slowly, the blueberry turned his head to look at the tangerine.

‘You’ve been quiet this whole week and I’ve noticed that recently you look sad. What is it? What’s wrong?’

Footsteps told Kageyama that his mom had gone upstairs.

‘You know you can talk to me. We’re friends, right?’

Friends.

Those wide eyes. That innocent face. When he jumped it was like he had wings to fly. To Kageyama, it wasn’t because Hinata was a crow – it was because he was an angel. Even his tactless communication was so naive and pure – there was nothing underhand about him. Just like his  playing style. Hinata played with reckless raw unpolished talent which Kageyama hated and loved at the same time. Even now he plunged head first into this conversation with no technique or manipulation to get  Kageyama to talk but just by full-force coming out in honesty. 

Kageyama knew the fire ball was special from the moment he saw that whizz kid  jump. He felt a pain in his heart and a yearning as he looked upon that face which, he’d never admit, he cherished above all others.

‘Is your dad OK upstairs? Is school fine?’ Hinata pressed when Kageyama hadn’t responded.

Still nothing behind the passive face of number 9. Hinata clawed at the fabric of the sofa.

‘I hate seeing you sad, Kageyama! Angry, shouting, arguing – that’s fine! But when you’re sad you go quiet too and I can’t tell what you’re  thinking. I don’t like it. So please say something.’

Kageyama looked away. His kindness… hurts.

‘I can’t tell you why I’m sad,’ Kageyama murmured.

All I know is that I want to you stop. Just stop seeing him. 

Please.

‘Why?’ Hinata almost yelled, with passion in his voice.

‘Because these feelings don’t make sense to me either.’

Ah… Hinata stared at the setter who had dropped his gaze to  his lap. Hinata couldn’t argue with that. He knew only too well what it was like to have a cornucopia of emotions. Still. He had to get something out of the King. He hadn’t wanted to do this but if it was the  only way –

‘This isn’t about Oikawa-san, is it?’

Kageyama closed his eyes and exhaled. Why does he have to say that name when I tried so hard not to think about it? But there was something else, another part to the monster inside that had started niggling away at him: this is all your fault, Kageyama’s mind spoke in the voice of Oikawa, if  you had agreed to teach him how to serve, if you’d been nicer to him in  the beginning… perhaps the shrimp would’ve gone to you instead of me –

‘No.’ Kageyama said.

They’d met during the earthquake. Hinata had saved Oikawa. If that  bastard had even a 0.001% shred of decency then he felt indebted to Hinata. The dumbass was too likable for his own good and that snake could charm a snake. So – was it Oikawa who had charmed Hinata, or the other way round? Kageyama frowned, still with his eyes closed. He had a million questions but not a single answer. But regardless, all that  aside, no matter what he didn’t know, what he did know was that it all  boiled down to –

Us.

Kageyama opened his eyes and looked directly at Hinata.

‘It’s about us.’

Kageyama’s eyes were open, deep, like the ocean. Hinata felt his heart stutter from the intensity of the setter’s stare. 

Kageyama  blushed, even in the dark Hinata could tell – he was uncomfortable, shy all of a sudden, he couldn’t maintain eye contact and instead his gaze  landed on –

Hinata’s foot.

The one that had touched his knee.

Ba-dum.

Kageyama’s heart knocked against his ribs.

A hand. If he reached out, if he extended a hand –

‘What do you mean?’ Hinata asked. ‘When you say it’s about us?’

Hinata felt the full force of that stare as they locked eyes again. So penetrating was the look that Hinata received that he gripped the  edge of the sofa to stop himself shrinking back. 

Was this the eyes of his setter friend… or a sabre-toothed tiger?

Then suddenly. It was gone. Kageyama’s expression changed as if he realised something, something that scared him – he quickly turned back to the TV.

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Kageyama –

‘I don’t want to talk about it right now.’

Hinata stared at that unreadable boy for a few more moments before  eventually returning to the TV too. Both watched the movie but didn’t really see it.

After the movie it was late, and Kageyama saw Hinata to the door. After Hinata put on his trainers he opened the door and turned to the  setter.

‘Thank you for dinner and for having me over. I’ll see you on Sunday.’

So polite. So friendly. Always. No matter what I’m like…

And so…

Cute.

Kageyama gulped.

That hair like a blazing sunset, those golden syrup eyes, those lovely, delicate girlish features –

It was like Kageyama had been a bee, flitting around, trying to ignore a flower, to deny the beauty of its petals, only to not be able  to resist its sweet scent, the lure, the core, the centre, just to land on the pollen of irrefutable fact –

Hinata was –

Attractive.

He’s always been attractive.

Kageyama’s heart rattled. His palms were sweating. Hinata was right here, alone with him, so small, so winsome and he looked… so soft… To touch Hinata again… If he could just reach out –

‘Kageyama?’ Hinata cocked his head to the side: again the setter was staring at him with that burning intensity. ‘What is it?’

Hinata saw it again – the fleeting alarm in the setter’s eyes but then it turned into something a lot harder –

A Kageyama he recognised –

‘We’ll beat Seijoh.’ With his eyes Kageyama told the middle blocker: I’ll beat him and then I’ll teach you how to serve. You’ll come back to me. Because you’re my spiker.

Hinata smiled. It was the most Kageyama-like thing he’d heard all week but regardless, Hinata could still sense a background sadness hovering around the setter like the glow of a ghost. Us, he’d said, something to do with us… But Oikawa had told him not to force it. He stepped out into the night.

‘You played well this week,’ Kageyama said, making Hinata turn. ‘I’ll see you on Sunday.’

He’s nicer when he’s sad but still… I don’t like it when he’s sad.

Hinata nodded and walked over to his bike. As he cycled away, he  didn’t look back but he knew the setter had watched him that whole time  because he never heard the front door close. When Hinata reached his  home he recognised the nugget of emotion that had journeyed with him; it  was on a much smaller scale but it wasn’t dissimilar to the feeling he  had that Sunday his mom picked him up from Oikawa’s.

If it wasn’t Oikawa, if it wasn’t family, if it wasn’t school…

What exactly was wrong with Kageyama?

Asahi gripped the bar of the banana boat ride tightly, his little  cousin screaming her head off in delight. He felt sick, and this was too  high, he might fall out at any moment – he closed his eyes but every  time he did he remembered the tea cup ride they’d just been on and it  made him feel worse. His eyes snapped open and he looked up, then right,  then left at the crowd. At least the thing had started to slow –  finally. Just as he was about to turn away, a bright orange ball of  spiky hair caught his attention. Wait. Was that –

It was. Hinata carrying a giant plush white rabbit.

‘Hee -!’

Asahi began but then froze. A tall elegant figure with brown flicks  for hair, walked by Hinata’s side and ruffled that ginger mane.

No.

Asahi caught his side profile. For some reason, he felt like a snake made of ice had just tightened around his throat.

The ride stopped, Asahi and his cousin clambered out and she moaned  that she wanted to get on again. He had to tell the others. He managed  to subdue her by taking her to a candy floss stall which bought him a  bit of time. Asahi whipped out his phone and texted the group chat with  the other third years.

Asahi: Guys, I’m at the fair. I just saw Hinata with Oikawa

It didn’t take very long for Suga and Daichi to come online.

Suga: are you sure?

Daichi: What do you mean with Oikawa?

Asahi: I just saw them walking together

Suga: maybe they bumped into each other?

Asahi: Oikawa played with Hinata’s hair

Daichi: HE WHAT

Suga: did you talk to them?

Asahi: no I was on a ride

Suga: go and ask them what they’re doing there

Asahi: I don’t know where they went and I’m too scared to

Daichi: GO AND ASK THEM NOW

Asahi: the fair is quite big, and my cousin wants to go on another ride

Daichi: where is Nishinoya when you need him

Suga: I wonder why Hinata’s with Oikawa. I thought they weren’t even friends

Daichi: I have a bad feeling about this

Asahi: so do I

Suga: lets not make assumptions. Shall we ask Hinata?

Daichi: after the match. Before might throw him off. Asahi if you see them again you better say something

Asahi: I gtg guys, my cousin wants me

Daichi: ASAHI

Oikawa was smiling and saying something about looking forward to Hinata’s serve. The sun glinted off his shiny mauve-brown hair making it  look like something from a shampoo commercial. Hinata still could not  believe that Oikawa was here, right now, with him. That he wanted to  spend more time with this short middle blocker. Out of all his millions  of friends and the people he knew, he’d gifted this Saturday afternoon  to Hinata. This beautiful person’s attention is… all on me.  

Hinata couldn’t help but notice, as they walked through the crowd, female eyes following Seijoh’s captain. Male eyes too. But the setter  wasn’t even paying any attention to them because he was too busy  suggesting things to do, talking to Hinata. And he still kept paying for everything, much to Hinata’s dismay, to the point Hinata ended up stuffing yen into the setter’s pocket.

‘Nuh uh,’ the setter shook his head, forcing the notes back into  Hinata’s palm, ‘what did I say chibi-chan? This is my treat to you for your birthday.’

‘But even when it’s not my birthday you still keep paying for everything,’ Hinata mumbled.

‘And rightly so. I am your senpai after all.’

Hinata had not told Oikawa that it was his birthday last week Sunday until it was this week Thursday to not put pressure on the setter. He  didn’t want Oikawa to feel like he expected anything, or that Oikawa had  to do something. So he had deliberately waited until it was over to  drop it in passing. Big mistake. Oikawa had hit the roof, devastated  that they had spent last Friday night together and the shrimp hadn’t  breathed a word. The captain would’ve cleared his calendar on the  Sunday, he would’ve cancelled that silly picnic and happily would’ve treated Hinata instead –

‘How about the fair that’s in town?’ Oikawa had proffered during lunchtime on Thursday. ‘Can I take you on Saturday?’

To Oikawa it was like the match: any day, any time, any reason, to meet as much as possible.

To Hinata it was like a stack of sticks added to the already huge bonfire burning in his heart.

Nothing had reduced. 

Not his crazy heart rate, not the tingling  sensation whenever the setter touched him, not the sexual thoughts that  bubbled up every night. Of the latter, they had evolved. When Hinata had  first started masturbating to the thought of Oikawa, it was of his  features and vague. A collection of sensations. Warmth, hugs, eyes,  hands, scent, lips. That kiss which Hinata now knew had actually  happened. Since last week’s hands-on experience, Hinata had jerked off every night to the shuddering, shaking setter moaning from Hinata’s hand. The thought that Hinata’s hand alone could make Oikawa writhe and cum like that, could produce such an involuntary pleasurable reaction…  turned Hinata on like nothing else ever had. Oikawa’s desperation. That hunger in his arrogant eyes. The setter clawing at the bed. Hinata felt  like a part of him had come alive that he had to tether to a leash  because his aching desire for Oikawa made his imagination run wild.

This was a problem. 

The more he had of Oikawa the more he wanted.  Today Hinata already knew would not be enough; his mom had only  permitted him a few hours out and ordained homework to be the priority  as so much time was taken by volleyball. And friends. As in. Oikawa. Not that she knew that.

‘Hey chibi-chan – bumper cars! Shall we see who can hit who the most?’

Hinata just liked everything about being with Oikawa. There was no other way to put it. And the more confident and secure Hinata felt that  Oikawa may possibly like spending time with him too, that the captain  might feel even a tiny bit for Hinata what Hinata felt for the setter…  made Hinata more daring.

‘What does the winner get?’ Hinata asked, halting.

Oikawa too stopped walking and placed his hands on his hips. ‘You want to wager? Alright. What would you like?’

Hinata watched Oikawa’s face. ‘One hundred kisses.’

Ka-boom. Oikawa’s eyebrows almost flew off his face. He  could not hide his shocked delight. Oikawa licked his lips as he  surveyed the spiker. Hinata didn’t break eye contact but the setter knew instinctively that this action had evoked something in the middle  blocker. Oikawa smirked, his eyes glinting like amethysts.

‘Deal.’

‘What would you like?’

Hinata felt like he was piece of raw flesh the way Oikawa considered  him. Hinata didn’t look away although his heart raced and he felt his  knees slightly buckle.

‘More,’ Oikawa said, his voice low. ‘Of you.’

Hinata felt himself get semi hard.

‘Deal.’

Oikawa’s flirtatious eyes admired him. ‘You keep surprising me chibi-chan… every time.’

They joined the queue for the bumper cars. Hinata stared at Oikawa’s  hand which he wanted to hold, his shirt which he wanted to rip open, his  torso which he wanted to jump on. The crow’s eyes met the cobra’s,  who’d been watching him.

‘You need to stop,’ Oikawa murmured. ‘You’re making me want to touch you.’

Hinata felt his loins stir. He dropped his gaze, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. One hundred kisses. The way he just looked at Oikawa. Wednesday night… He needed to control himself.

Contradictory to what Hinata had told Kageyama, on Wednesday it was Oikawa, and not a classmate, who had come over for dinner again, under  the truthful premise that Hinata needed help with his maths homework.

Natsu had stared at the setter again, not saying a word for the whole  dinner but hid under the table when Oikawa winked at her. It was the  fifth week since the earthquake and finally, finally, Oikawa  had taken the bandages off of his hands. He had done his first serve in  weeks on Tuesday. It barely stung and it was in, in the corner of court.  His teammates howled the roof off in happy relief.

‘You’re a beast, Oikawa,’ Kindaichi observed, proud.

‘Aren’t I just,’ Oikawa muttered to himself, grinning.

When Oikawa got home that night he texted Hinata about it and also  asked if he wanted a practice match. The shrimp agreed. Oikawa relished  in the thought of impressing number 10 and slaying number 9 at the same  time.

After dinner on Wednesday night, they’d gone to Hinata’s room. Oikawa  bent over Hinata’s desk, inspecting the sprawled books and notes.

‘Ah, good old calculus,’ Oikawa observed. ‘How I’ll never miss it.’

Oikawa reached a hand out to pick up a sheet of paper containing  Hinata’s attempts, but a smaller hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.  Gently, Hinata turned Oikawa’s right hand over. His palm was full of  scars and scabs, lines of brown-dried blood, surrounded by islands of  pink healing skin. The tiger-stripe wounds on Oikawa’s hands made Hinata  feel like someone had blasted a hole through his heart with a shotgun.  He picked up Oikawa’s other hand, as Oikawa straightened up and watched  the little crow. Hinata evaluated the damage on Oikawa’s left hand.

Holding the setter by the wrist, Hinata brought him over to the bed  and they both sat down side by side. There Hinata continued his  masterful inspection like Michelangelo staring at his ceiling in the  Sistine Chapel.

‘Can I?’

‘Of course,’ Oikawa whispered, watching the spiker.

Hinata held Oikawa’s right hand and, with the redhead’s left hand,  traced his fingertips over the bumpy surface of the setter’s palm.

‘Does that hurt?’

‘No.’

Hinata then turned his attention to Oikawa’s left palm.

‘This one looks more healed.’

‘Perhaps because I’ve used it less.’

Hinata felt the scabs on Oikawa’s left palm too. Eyes gleaming, he looked up at Oikawa.

‘Is… this my fault?’ Hinata asked.

Oikawa gripped Hinata’s fingers in his palm. ‘Of course not. Why would you even ask that?’

‘Sometimes, when I think back to that day, if you hadn’t carried me  on your back, you could’ve ran to safety under the table. I know the  whole place was shaking but you could’ve made it. And then… your hands  wouldn’t have ended up like this.’

Oikawa released his hands from Hinata’s grasp and cupped that extraordinary face.

‘You saved my life chibi-chan. You were face down on the floor and I  wasn’t going to leave you. Crawling was the only way. If I had tried to  stand with you on my back we would’ve fallen. I regret nothing. And you  have absolutely nothing to feel bad about, do you hear me? I wouldn’t  change a thing.’

Those magnificent light brown eyes stared up at Oikawa.

‘I just want you to be able to play at your best,’ Hinata whispered.

Oikawa closed his eyes and exhaled, his hands moving to grip Hinata’s shoulders.

‘Can you hear yourself?’ Oikawa murmured, opening his eyes and  meeting Hinata’s. ‘You’re supposed to be my opponent. My enemy. You  should be happy that my hands are in this state. But even on that first  day you acted as if – as if my hands were your hands.’

‘I know how much volleyball means to you because it means that much to me too. So I… could feel your pain.’

Oikawa lifted Hinata’s chin and kissed him. Hinata’s heart swelled to  every corner of his body. The kiss was soft, tender, an unspoken thank  you. Oikawa moved back and watched the spiker’s eyes flutter open with  cheeks ever so slightly stained pink. Hinata climbed into Oikawa’s lap,  laced each hand’s fingers through Oikawa’s, and wrapped his arms around  himself, caging himself in Oikawa’s arms too. Snug, comfortable, on the  setter’s body, where he felt best. Hinata craned his neck up and turned,  latching his nose onto the side of Oikawa’s neck and deeply inhaled.

‘What are you doing?’ Oikawa asked, half-touched, half amused.

‘It’s what you always do to me,’ the crow replied after he drank his fill.

‘That’s because you smell so good.’

‘So do you. You have this… sweet, dark smell.’

‘What are you trying to say?’ Oikawa chuckled, low, bringing his chin  down, so that his head dropped its weight against Hinata’s right  shoulder and it made the spiker’s heart trip. ‘Because if you’re trying  to say that I’m sweet but dark then you’re absolutely right.’

Hinata laughed.

‘I love that sound,’ Oikawa sighed.

Hinata turned his head right and buried his nostrils in Oikawa’s hair. He then rotated even more, and kissed the setter’s neck.

Oikawa groaned. Hinata tittered. He did it again.

‘What are you playing at chibi-chan?’

Hinata went to do it again but Oikawa was quick – he lunged forward  and his teeth nipped the top of Hinata’s ear. Hinata moved back, eyes  terrified, like a rabbit who’d just had its ears licked by a wolf.  Oikawa smiled, baring his fangs.

‘You know I’m always calling you shrimp,’ that alluring voice was  back, along with those killer eyes and it made Hinata’s entire body  quiver. Oikawa lifted one of his hands up, still interlocked with  Hinata’s and brought it towards his mouth. ‘But do you actually taste  like shrimp?’

Oikawa gently bit into the back of Hinata’s hand, closed his eyes and  sucked on the flesh. Hinata stared, open-mouthed, wide-eyed, unable to  look away. The teeth hurt ever so slightly but Oikawa’s wet, warm tongue  swirled against Hinata’s skin and when Oikawa released suction to start  again, the sound it made was like nothing Hinata had ever heard before.  Oikawa opened his eyes and his gaze reached Hinata’s. Maintaining eye  contact, Oikawa sucked a little harder, savouring the post-practice  sweat of the spiker. He then released his teeth; his mouth let go of  skin. The back of Hinata’s hand was raw with teeth marks and wet with  saliva.

‘No,’ Oikawa smirked. ‘You don’t taste like -’

Hinata tackled Oikawa down onto his bed. The setter’s head hit the  pillow, his body twisted with his feet still on the floor. The crow’s  claws had pinned Oikawa’s wrists on either side of the setter’s head,  and those beautiful seductive eyes stared up at Hinata in surprise.  Oikawa could see it. He could see it in Hinata’s eyes, all over the  spiker’s face. Oikawa brought his legs up onto the bed as Hinata’s legs  straddled the captain’s waist. The spiker lowered himself onto Oikawa,  his crotch against the setter’s stomach. His heart, his dick, the blood in his brain – everything throbbed. Before Hinata even knew what he was  doing, he grinded himself against the setter with a grunt and, although  they were both clothed, his imagination displayed his dick against  Oikawa’s ripped abs.

He looked at Oikawa. The setter was watching Hinata, an unreadable expression on his face but his eyes were full of wickedness –

‘Don’t stop.’

Hinata let go of Oikawa’s wrists and hugged the torso of the setter,  his head bumping the captain’s chin, as his hips continued to move  hungrily against that perfect body. Hinata closed his eyes and kept his  ears peeled for footsteps. He fumbled, and pushed his shorts and his  underwear down, below his balls, removing every layer separating him  from Oikawa’s skin, and lifted up the setter’s shirt, his hand stroking  Oikawa’s flesh. He heard a sigh come from above him. Hinata dipped his  dick against the folds of Oikawa’s abs and moaned. The thought, the  feel, of his skin on Oikawa’s skin drove him wild. He rubbed himself  over and over again creating friction against those muscles. Hinata  couldn’t believe how good it felt. This was five hundred times better  than his own imagination coupled with masturbation. Oikawa was here.  Under him. On his bed. Where he’d fantasied about the setter every  night. He bucked his hips faster, making short sharp thrusts, his dick  digging into Oikawa’s body. He kept going, and going, and going –

‘Ahh -’

Hinata came against Oikawa’s stomach, his load shooting between them  landing on Oikawa’s skin and Oikawa’s volleyball shirt. The spiker  collapsed, in explosive euphoria, on top of the setter, panting for  breath, his cum sandwiched between the two of them. Currents whizzed  through Hinata in sporadic spasms. His heart was like a shooting star.  Aoba Johsai had nothing on him; Hinata felt like he could  single-handedly beat the whole team. He heaved a sigh.

‘How wonderfully unpredictable you are,’ came a dreamy voice from above the spiker.

Hinata responded by smelling the setter’s chest. He then felt around –  yep, Oikawa was hard too. Hinata dug his hand into the setter’s shorts  and felt Oikawa tense up under him.

‘If you’re going to, you should use a tissue -’

In a split second Hinata had tissues in one hand and Oikawa’s cock in  the other. This was the second time he got to touch Oikawa this  intimately. With everything he could remember from the first time round,  Hinata began emphatically stroking Oikawa’s dick, and heard the setter  take a sharp breath. Good. 

Hinata lay beside the captain, slightly  lower, on his side, tucked under Oikawa’s right arm. Hinata watched in  avid fascination the various facial expressions of the setter while he  touched Oikawa. The cobra’s eyes were closed as he solely concentrated  on the feeling of that tender hand on his member. That focused frown was  back along with louder, drawn-out breathing. Hinata watched Oikawa’s  frown relax, then one of the muscles above his left eyebrow twitch  briefly; Hinata stared at those beautiful parted lips drawing in breath.  

Hinata anticipated direction – but received none. He stroked Oikawa  with his fingers, rubbed his palm along that huge dick before wrapping  his hand around it and pulling it faster but gradually.

Oikawa made a sound like a moan with his mouth closed and dreamily opened his eyes to stare into the eyes of his saviour.

‘Is this OK?’ Hinata whispered.

‘It’s more than OK. Your hand is so nice chibi-chan -’

Oikawa closed his eyes again as Hinata began moving faster. Oikawa  was vaguely aware of Hinata’s mom downstairs; as much as he would’ve  liked to drag this out for longer, he was in a risky situation, being in  Hinata’s house – not that that detracted from the experience, if  anything it added to the thrill –

With all the experience from last time, Hinata made Oikawa come and  soaked in the fact he got to watch Oikawa at the mercy of his hand  again. He managed to catch it so that Oikawa came mostly onto the  tissue. The sound of Oikawa’s moans, his screwed up face, his shuddering  breath – they easily stirred up Hinata all over again. His mind latched  onto these observations and recorded them to memory.

Once Oikawa had calmed, like a military mission, they threw the  tissues away, cleaned up, Hinata changed his briefs (and ordered Oikawa  to turn his back) and Oikawa basically did half of Hinata’s homework for  him. It wasn’t ideal and Oikawa insisted calling the spiker another  time to properly explain calculus to him.

‘You can’t afford to slack chibi-chan not when volleyball and I are  taking so much of your time. You need to work even harder on your  studies.’

Oikawa-san is always… so caring…

‘I will. Thank you Oikawa-san,’ Hinata, standing, threw his arms around Oikawa, who was seated at the desk.

Oikawa felt his heart dangerously soften: Hinata could’ve asked him to destroy murder evidence and he would’ve done it.

‘I feel like I can share everything in my life with you.’ Hinata whispered.

‘You can,’ Oikawa whispered back, fondly ruffling his hair.

Hinata gripped Oikawa tighter. He’s always looking out for me… if Karasuno finds out… will he get in trouble? Will he get in trouble because of me? The air bubble rose to the surface and Hinata couldn’t suppress it anymore –

‘There’s something I need to tell you.’

Hinata withdrew and Oikawa was surprised to see those amber eyes shiny and that cherub face full of worry.

‘What is it?’

But is this… how I lose him?

A tear spilled down that perfect cheek and Oikawa felt like a knife  was being dragged across his chest. He gently wiped that tear away with a  finger.

‘You know you can talk to me. About anything.’

‘I know -’ Hinata’s voice broke. ‘But I’m scared.’

‘You’re scared?’

‘I’m scared you’ll go.’

Oikawa held out his hand. Hinata took it.

Oikawa exhaled through his nose, observing that heartbreaking face. ‘Why on earth would I?’

‘B-because… because Kageyama knows about the serving and he might tell Karasuno.’

‘Do you really think something as small as that would stop me from seeing you?’

Oikawa grinned at the shock on the little nugget’s face. ‘I don’t  care if Karasuno knows. It was never a secret. You’ve always been free  to tell whoever you like, shorty pie -’

‘I didn’t tell anyone. Kageyama worked it out.’

‘Why am I not surprised? Even so. I want this to be your choice who  you tell or don’t tell. And whoever knows, knows. It doesn’t change a  thing.’

Hinata rushed to Oikawa in another tight hug and Oikawa felt like one big giant plushy marshmallow.

‘Thank you,’ Hinata whispered.

‘What are you thanking me for, hmm? It’ll be harder for you if  Karasuno finds out. They probably won’t like it but who knows how  they’ll react. Really they should be on their knees thanking me that I  turned their star decoy into a little serving monster.’

Oikawa felt Hinata giggle and it made his heart sing. Oikawa stroked  Hinata’s hair with his un-bandaged hand to comfort the little crow but  he himself felt comfort from it.

‘There’s… something else I’m worried about too.’

‘Tell me.’

‘I’m – I’m worried about Kageyama.’

‘Telling Karasuno? Really he’s your team mate. He should be supportive of your improvement -’

‘No, not like that. I’m worried about him. As a friend.’

Oikawa’s hand froze. Blisters of frost appeared across that melted heart, sharp, numbing.

‘Oh.’ Oikawa had meant it as a question but it came out dead, flat.

‘He hasn’t been acting himself lately and he seems kinda… sad.’

‘Is that so?’

Hinata couldn’t see the setter’s face because he was hugging him but  Oikawa smirked. Kageyama sad? Oikawa would celebrate when he got home  for sure.

‘I’m not sure what it is but I think it has something to do with you  teaching me how to serve. When he first realised he kept talking about  it for a while but now he’s stopped. This week he’s been strangely nicer  to me but quieter and his playing style is off. I’m worried… because we  have a match against you on Sunday -’

‘What do you mean by “strangely nicer”?’ Oikawa drew back to look at the little spiker.

‘Oh, um, on Monday he said I played well. He never says things like  that. And yesterday he bought me a curry bun. I’m not sure what to do.’

Tobio you motherfucker. You took my advice that readily, huh?

‘Have you asked him why he’s sad?’

‘No, not directly -’

‘Maybe you should. See if you can get a direct answer out of him but  there’s no point in you worrying about it. It’s up to Kageyama if he  wants to share or not. He shouldn’t let his personal problems effect  practice. Easier said than done, I know, but… you can’t force someone to  open up. It has to come from him.’

Hinata kissed Oikawa on the cheek.

‘What was that for?’ Oikawa stared.

Hinata shrugged.

‘Shoyo!’

Perfect timing. Because they heard his mom call from the bottom of the stairs.