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Hinata has a habit of curling up on his side as he sleeps. It’s actually quite adorable as he tucks his arms under the pillow, his drooling face turned slightly at an angle, his small nose scrunched up and his legs curling inward, forming a bunched up position.
On the rare occasion that Daichi wakes up earlier than Hinata, he can’t help but smile fondly at the first year’s cute sleeping pose. Hinata seems to be made up of infinite energy, so to see him in such a calm and peaceful state is a rather huge disparity compared to his normal hyperactivity.
Daichi wakes up to muffled giggling and soft coos in the middle of the night during an away game in Tokyo. He rubs his weary eyes, shuffling around in his futon to locate the source of the noise and berate them for disturbing others’ rest—seriously his teammates have been playing for the whole day against some of the top schools in Tokyo, where do they even get the energy?
Expecting to see the second years, notably Tanaka and Nishinoya causing a ruckus, Daichi is taken by surprise when he sees Sugawara, Ennoshita and Asahi kneeling around Hinata’s futon with their phones out, whispering under their breaths.
“Look at him! His little button nose is all scrunched up, like he’s about to sneeze,” Asahi whispers to the other two.
“I know right. And his hair is so fluffy, I just want to ruffle it for a bit…” Sugawara’s voice trails off longingly as he continues to point the camera at Hinata’s slumbering form.
“Maybe we should quiet down, but Hinata is really cute like this. He’s like a Monster energy drink personified during the day, it’s like someone lit a fuse under him–”
“What are you guys blabbering about? It’s almost 2am, why are you awake?” Daichi growls quietly to prevent waking up the other sleeping teammates.
The three of them jump slightly, with Asahi barely stifling a scream before he turns around guiltily to look at Daichi.
Sugawara pouts but soon regains his grin as he brandishes his collection of photos of Hinata. “Just look at him, Daichi! Our baby crow is the cutest.”
“Yeah I know, Hinata has us wrapped around his fingers. Now, go to sleep before I make you guys do suicide drills tomorrow,” Daichi warns.
With this they all shuffle back to their respective futons at lightning speed, unwilling and afraid of risking the wrath and ire of their team captain.
Before Daichi closes his eyes, he can’t help but recall how Hinata’s head was turned towards Kageyama’s direction, and how Hinata’s legs were almost wrapped around the other’s waist. And if the three of them hadn’t only focused on Hinata’s sleeping face, they would have seen that Kageyama and Hinata’s fingers were touching under the mussed up covers, with the setter’s long slender fingers curled protectively around Hinata’s smaller hand.
Soon enough, everyone on the team has seen the adorableness of Hinata’s sleeping posture. Pictures are exchanged in groupchats with other schools (with Hinata’s permission, of course. He found the whole ordeal rather funny and was flattered that everyone thought his drooling face was cute). Now almost all their friends, especially those from Nekoma and Fukurodani, have been blessed with the soul-healing picture of Hinata sleeping.
Emphasis on “almost” as there is one person who hasn’t really cared much about texting, and therefore hasn’t seen the rapidly spreading photos of a sleeping Hinata at all. And that person is Kageyama Tobio.
During away games or training camps, Hinata rarely sleeps before Kageyama as the older boy is always bouncing off the walls right before bedtime, it’s always Kageyama who has to drag Hinata to bed. Kageyama always falls asleep, succumbing to exhaustion while Hinata wriggles around next to him with his pent up energy.
This time, however, Hinata actually ends up sleeping earlier than his partner.
After showering, the two of them usually sit criss-crossed on their futons, chatting idly with each other, reviewing their previous plays and techniques. Kageyama has recently found out that Hinata’s hair is actually as fluffy as it looks. Especially after he has blow dried his hair, Hinata’s orange locks become silky smooth. It’s rather cathartic for Tobio to sink his aching fingers into Hinata’s hair, caressing it and playing with it.
It feels like a reward after a long day of grueling practices.
Hinata was initially perplexed with Kageyama’s obsession with his hair, which eventually spiraled into an argument about whether Kageyama was making fun of his bright hair color. But then, he soon got used to the setter’s slow and soothing movements as Kageyama cards through his hair.
Shouyou leans backward into his setter’s chest, tilting his head up to look Tobio in the eyes as Shouyou draws random lines and characters on the other’s thighs. Shouyou soon loses track of his drawings, becoming increasingly obsessed with the sensation of warmth and friction. His fingers are no longer within his control, as they travel subconsciously along the curves of Tobio’s muscles. Tobio’s long fingers continue to stroke through the orange hair strands, while his right arm sneaks around Shouyou’s waist to pull the shorter boy closer to his body.
Under Tobio’s careful movements, Shouyou’s breathing gradually evens out as his head droops lower, his eyes closing. It takes a while for Tobio to notice that the boy in his arms is fast asleep.
With a small smile, Tobio hoists the slumbering boy into his arms and lays him down into the futon, drawing up the covers to reach his chin. Tobio gives Shouyou one last boop on the nose before he turns around to join his seniors’ conversation as it is only 8:30pm—he still has an hour left before he has to go to bed.
He studiously ignores the knowing grins and raised eyebrows (or in Tsukishima’s case, a pronounced grimace) sent his way. For a while now, Tobio has been feeling… odd around the bouncy orange boy. His face would flush red irrevocably when Shouyou gets too close to him. He finds himself having to control the urge to hold Shouyou’s hand as they walk together. Tobio would even offer to buy an extra meatbun for Shouyou after an especially frustrating practice, he never does that for anyone.
Tobio isn’t stupid, he knows he has romantic feelings for the middle blocker, his #10. But he is also content with maintaining the current status quo, perhaps later when the both of them are ready, he would confess.
Too busy dwelling on his own thoughts, Tobio is struck by the sight of Shouyou’s curled-up sleeping form when he gets ready to slide into his futon.
Shouyou is hugging himself with both arms curled defensively around his chest. A wrinkle is embedded into his forehead and his mouth forms a pout. Is he having a nightmare?
Tobio smooths out the wrinkle in Shouyou’s forehead with a concerned frown. He slides into his futon properly before he pulls the shorter boy, the boy he loves into his arms. As if by magic, Shouyou’s face clears: his pout disappears, his features softening once his mind acknowledges that he is surrounded by the familiar warmth of Tobio.
Without much fanfare and declarations, Hinata and Kageyama have begun pushing their futons together during away games and training camps, both finding warmth and peace within each other’s arms at night. They don’t talk about it, everything conveyed through long lingering glances and slow careful brushes against the other’s skin.
Hinata is a toucher, Kageyama realizes.
Hinata craves physical contact. He’s always found leaning against one of their senpais, an arm wrapped loosely around them or hooking a chin on their broad shoulders. And their teammates are eager to reciprocate their clingy kouhai. But no one receives Hinata’s touch as much as Kageyama does.
And Kageyama secretly loves being the special one, the only one who Hinata seeks touches from. Hinata’s skin is warm, sun-kissed, and so beloved. And Kageyama wishes he could be burned by the sun forever, for the rest of his life.
Burying his head into Hinata’s neck, Kageyama feels a slow coursing warmth flowing through his body, from his heart, to his head and to the tips of his fingers. It is tingly, just like the moment when his fingers graze the surface of a volleyball for a perfect set towards his perfect partner.
Surrounded by Hinata’s warmth, Tobio is exhilarated.
Staring down at Shouyou’s peaceful sleeping face, Tobio can’t help but trace trembling fingers across the expanse of his features. A thumb stroking the fluttering lids of Shouyou’s eyes, down the curve of his cheek, tracing across the Cupid’s bow and finally arriving at his jaw. Shouyou is soft like this, soft and tender and vulnerable, completely trusting of Tobio.
In Tobio’s embrace, Shouyou squirms a bit before settling down with a soft sigh, his eyes closed in sleep (he fell asleep during their sleepover while watching some Olympic volleyball matches). Tobio presses a soft kiss against Shouyou’s forehead, barely touching and he smiles to himself before closing his eyes.
When the sun burns, it burns brightly, almost blindingly. Sometimes, when Kageyama looks at Hinata, he feels like every nerve within his body is ignited. Shouyou is always warm, and Tobio loves it.
But not now.
For the first time since he met Shouyou, Tobio desperately wishes that Shouyou would stop burning, stop exerting and cool down, literally and metaphorically, for lack of a better word.
Peeking at the sweating and shivering, fever-ridden boy in his futon through the half-opened door, Tobio feels helpless. They were playing against Kamomedai, Tobio’s mind whirring as he analyzed the court: where are his teammates? Where’s the ball? His mind was in top condition, his body as well, and so was his team.
Or so he thought.
When Shouyou’s body crumbles to the ground, Tobio finally realizes with a thudding heart that his partner’s shaking body was not because of nerves or excitement, it was because he had a burning fever of 39.1°C.
Tobio cannot come to terms with reality. The infallible sun, forever burning and glowing, now reduced to a sputtering small flame, fragile and weak.
Tobio quietly pushes open the door to enter the dark room where Shouyou is resting in. He had made sure to put on a mask before entering the room, afraid of bringing in any germs that might worsen Shouyou’s illness.
He just wanted to look at Shouyou before retiring to bed. Just one look. But as Tobio looks into those bright honey-brown eyes, tired yet alert, Tobio’s resolve crumbles.
Without a word, Tobio slides into Shouyou’s futon, flinching slightly at his clammy skin. They lie on their sides silently, just looking at each other, basking in each other’s sight.
Tobio’s hand seeks Shouyou’s one, that small hand cold and trembling, like a newborn baby bird. Tobio holds it in reverence, so desperate to warm it up—to warm the sun up.
“Kageyama.”
Tobio cups both his hands around Shouyou’s. Maybe two hands would work better, and Shouyou would go back to being energetic and warm.
“Tobio.”
Shouyou’s hoarse whisper of Tobio’s name shakes him out of his thoughts. He looks into those honey-brown eyes, and he feels himself drowning in them.
“Tobio. I will get stronger. I will be the last one standing on the court.” Shouyou’s eyes are alight, as if twin torches shining in the dark. Even without being able to see his entire face, Tobio can tell that his mouth is set in a determined line.
“I will be the one to beat you at last.”
Ah. The sun is back. And Tobio wonders why he even doubted the existence of it in the first place. Shouyou has never been weak, he has never been fragile. What right does Tobio have to coddle him? To disregard his strength? The raw untapped potential of one Hinata Shouyou is as bright as the sun. Tobio has never looked down on him ever since they first met, he vows to never do so again.
“Tobi-”
“Shouyou.” Tobio raises a hand to Shouyou’s face, a thumb on his flushed cheek, the rest of his fingers curved against the side of his cheek. Shouyou stares up at him, and Tobio lets go to drown in the honey-gold.
“Shouyou. I love you.”
There is a beat of silence and then Shouyou smiles, the slight curve of eyes. And Tobio feels like he is blasted in the face with a sun ray.
“I know. How could I not feel the same way?”
Tobio feels the slide of tears down his cheeks and he buries his face into Shouyou’s fluffy hair. He doesn’t even really know why he’s crying at all. The love of his life, his partner, his one rival on the court, loves him back. He honestly knew it all along, but to hear it spoken out loud, it feels monumental.
“Why are you crying now, Bakageyama? I’m the one who’s sick here.”
“Shut up, dumbass, who’s crying?”
Shouyou laughs but soon quiets down in exhaustion. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep, his face resting against Tobio’s body, his breaths in sync with the rise and fall of Tobio’s chest. There are dark circles under Shouyou’s closed eyes. He looks absolutely terrible but Tobio loves him nonetheless.
Two years later, a week before Shouyou is set to fly, bidding goodbye to the indoor courts of Japan and towards the golden sunny beaches of Brazil, Tobio and Shouyou lie on the cramped narrow bed in Tobio’s room.
Tobio’s arms are clenched tight around his partner’s, his boyfriend’s body. And Shouyou’s own embrace around Tobio is equally as tight. Tobio draws him in, kissing him fiercely, a quiet sort of desperation behind each kiss.
Shouyou laughs, “are you missing me already, Kageyama?” He giggles as Tobio peppers soft kisses down the arch of his neck, ticklish and loving.
“Shut up, I’m going to be so happy that I don’t have to see your stupidly orange hair everyday.”
“My hair is not stupid!”
Both boys know that they would video call each other no less than thrice a week. They would make time in their busy schedules for each other. If not, how could they call themselves ‘partners’?
Tobio wrestles Shouyou into the sheets, wrapping him up like a burrito. “You have to pack your stuff, sleep earlier.”
Tobio goes to the kitchen for a glass of milk, a staple part of his bedtime routine and he goes to brush his teeth. Once he’s done, he goes back to his room and finds his boyfriend already dead asleep.
Tobio kneels next to his bed, staring at Shouyou at eye level. Due to Tobio’s careless tugs at Shouyou’s hair while they were kissing desperately just now, his hair is a complete mess right now, a bird’s nest if a nest could be bright orange in color. Shouyou is pouting as he clings onto Tobio’s pillow, cradling it to his chest. Tobio can’t help his smile, his boyfriend is too cute.
Then he thinks of the future, of Brazil, of the offer letter from Schweiden Adlers, and his smile fades.
“I will miss you, Shouyou, you idiot.”
Tobio presses a soft kiss on Shouyou’s cheek. He tugs his pillow out of Shouyou’s arms and covers them both with the blanket.
Tobio doesn’t sleep even when the birds start chirping outside his window.
Two more years, after conquering the sand, a tan and a plane flight later, Hinata Shouyou returns to Japan and back to Tobio’s arms.
After the Schweiden Adlers vs Black Jackals match, the boys, now men, find themselves entwined in each other’s arms, on a much bigger bed compared to their high school sleepovers. With Tobio’s numerous sponsorships and sizeable wage as a professional volleyball player for a Division 1 team, there is no wonder that he is able to afford a big apartment and a king size bed.
Dressed in one of Tobio’s faded shirts and shorts, Shouyou looks right at home. Even in his sleep, there is a pink blush of exhilaration painted across his cheeks. Right after the Jackals’ victory, Shouyou receives a call to draft him into the Japanese national volleyball team. What followed was a whirlwind of parties, celebrations, way too many shots and a shirtless Bokuto, and then Shouyou was falling into bed with Tobio, kissing and touching, riding on the high of their reunion on the court and the fulfilment of a promise of a lifetime.
Tired after a long day, Shouyou sleeps in for once, and Tobio actually wakes up before him. Tobio thinks he can never get used to the sight of his boyfriend’s sleeping face. A trickle of drool trails down the corner of his mouth, his head pillowed on Tobio’s chest, and his arms snaked behind Tobio’s back. Shouyou has always been touchy, it’s not strange that this behavior would be present while asleep as well.
As the sun rises further in the sky, Shouyou’s eyes slowly flutter open. He blinks dumbly at the ceiling, flipping around to see Tobio scrolling his phone with an arm around Shouyou.
“Morning, Tobio,” Shouyou smiles, leaning up towards him.
“Gross, you have drool on your chin.” Tobio pushes his face away, wrinkling his nose in the process.
“I do not!”
They settle into a calm silence after Shouyou finally brushes his teeth and washes his face (“See I told you you drooled.” “Oh, shut up.”), with Shouyou going on Twitter and Tobio watching their match yesterday. Occasionally, Shouyou would show the other a funny meme or a hilarious thirst comment about Tobio’s thighs and calves.
This moment is perfect.
“Tobio.”
“Hm?” Tobio hums out noncommittally, expecting Shouyou to show him another inane meme again.
“Marry me?”
Tobio’s fingers go slack around his phone and it falls with a fwump on the bed. He turns his head robotically towards Shouyou.
“... what?” He whispers.
“Oi, are you stupid? I asked you to marry me.”
“What- why- you’re not supposed to suddenly say that, dumbass!” Tobio protests, still trying to wrap his mind around Shouyou’s words.
‘It’s a proposal, it’s supposed to surprise you!”
“Did you even get a ring?”
Shouyou stills, a look of panic crosses his face. Tobio groans.
“Did you even plan this, or did you just propose to me on the spur of the moment?” Tobio asks, already knowing the answer.
“Uhh..”
“Oh, you really are a dumbass.”
Shouyou puffs up, his orange hair fluffing up as well. “So are you going to say yes or not?” He demands.
“Yes, of course, even though you’re a gigantic idiot.”
Shouyou smiles with the force of a thousand suns.
“You’re the one marrying this idiot.”
On the cusp of the 2024 Paris Olympics, Tobio finds himself wandering around the Olympic Village on his own. It’s his third Olympics, but the reality never seems quite believable. This is his second Olympics with Shouyou and the first as a married man. That also never seems quite real yet so inevitable at the same time–Hinata Shouyou and Kageyama Tobio, destined and forever.
Finishing his milk box, Tobio heads back to his room that he shares with Shouyou, waving and nodding at his fellow teammates. Back in his room where they had pushed their cardboard beds together to meet in the middle of the room, he sees Shouyou sleeping, curled up in the bedsheets.
Tobio has never understood other people’s obsession with his husband’s sleeping form, yeah it’s endearing but he’s seen it many times already. But now, as Tobio stares at the curled up form of Shouyou smack dab in the middle of their bed, with his shock of bright orange hair, Tobio can’t help but come to the realization that his husband really does look like a shrimp.
Tobio goes over to shake Shouyou awake. “Oi wake up, we need to make preparations for the opening ceremony tomorrow.”
Shouyou grumbles, swatting at Tobio’s hand. “Go away, Kageyama.”
“You’re also a Kageyama now, dumbass.”
That wakes Shouyou up. He opens his eyes and sits up with a smile.
“Let’s win this, Tobio.”
Kageyama Shouyou and Kageyama Tobio—the champions of the world.
“Don’t you dare lose on me.”