Work Text:
Kageyama Tobio slams her hand down on the kitchen table, square and pronounced. The older mulberry wood barely even quivers from the impact. Fighting the urge to pull back the offending limb, she squares her shoulders.
“I need a phone.”
Kageyama Jun doesn’t even look up from her newspaper. “You do not.”
“But mom—”
“Butts are for sitting.”
Kageyama plops down into the seat before her mother with a grimace. “I need one.”
She already knows what the next words out of her mother’s mouth will be. “Why do you think you need a phone?”
“For school.”
“They post your classes online now?”
Crossing her arms, Kageyama bites down a rude retort. “Everyone has one.”
“Who’s everyone?”
“Hinata—” “I spoke with her mom, she’s sharing a phone with her sister. Do you want to share a phone with your sister?” “The rest of the team—” “Name me one. Besides, I’ve been to enough games to know those girls are hooligans.” “Everyone at school—” “Again name one.”
Kageyama doesn’t groan in her mother’s face, but she does something close to it, admittedly a bit muted.
“I don’t know what they’re talking about,” she mumbles.
“What?” Jun asks with a singular poised eyebrow raise, as she lowers her morning paper; the steam from her coffee floats across her thin-framed glasses.
“I never know what the other girls are talking about,” she says stoutly. “They’re always giggling and sharing stories and plans.” Kageyama looks at her mother’s unimpressed blink and barrels onward, shoveling through her usual apprehension and favoring of fewer words. If she was going to disturb the Kageyama household’s preferred stoic silence, she might as well make it count. “It’s so annoying that they always have to explain it to me! Sometimes they forget and then they’re all giggling and I just have to stand there listening to their stupid laughs. And this one time,” she stops to take in a deep breath, “I found out they all met up for ice cream! Because they all made plans on Instagram! I missed out on all the stories and also Hinata talks all the time with this girl from another school, and I miss team discussions—”
“It will help with your volleyball?” her mother interrupts. “To have the phone?”
Kageyama nods furiously, opening her mouth to confirm vehemently.
Her mother holds up a hand, a few seconds pass. “Ok. You can have your sister’s old phone.”
Kageyama’s jaw drops at the same time that Miwa finally looks up from the phone she’d been tying into all breakfast.
“But mom!”
“What do you care? You’ll have no use for it.” Since Miwa would soon be moving across the country for her university, their parents had recently decided that it’d be a worthy investment to get her a newer model that would handle longer-distance calls
“I don’t want her to have it! Besides, I didn’t get a phone till last year. It’s not fair.”
Kageyama frowns, kicking her seat at the same time that Miwa turns to pinch her younger sister’s cheek. She was so close to getting the coveted device that she didn’t even think to complain about it being a hand-me-down. She kept trying to shoot her older sister a withering glare to shut up, incensed that she might ruin this for her.
“Don’t be so spoiled,” Jun says. “End of discussion, you’ll give her your phone if you want a new one.”
Miwa groans as Kageyama sinks back into her seat with crossed arms and a smirk.
“Kageyama you would not believe what she posted in response.”
“I don’t.”
“Did you even look at what I sent you?”
Kageyama’s lips twist downward, digging her hands deeper into her jacket’s pockets. Despite having long fantasized about the day she’d finally have her own phone, she still wasn’t acclimated to the unfamiliar technology. The apps Hinata insisted she download were confusing and hard to make sense of. She managed the bits of bite-sized information she could parse, having for once managed not to be ten minutes late to practice after the location had suddenly been changed—a piece of information that was usually discussed where most team planning went on which happened to unfortunately be an Instagram group chat.
“No.”
Hinata rolls her eyes, sticking her tongue out at her. “Let me finish the story idiot.”
“You’re the idiot.”
Hinata sighs. “Fine, whatever!” She runs ahead without saying anything else, hopping onto Tanaka’s retreating back and shrieking into her ear the same statement she’d been pestering Kageyama with.
Kageyama grimaces as she sets her earbuds back into her ears and shoves her hands into her pockets. She doesn’t turn on her music as she walks faster, nearly overtaking the rest of her team.
“Yeah, a picture of that same band,” Hinata hollers, making Kageyama slow her pace.
“No way,” Tanaka guffaws. “That’s just evil bro.”
“I heard they’re going to fight tomorrow,” Hinata boasts. “Takaba keeps posting about it on her story.”
“Bullshit Takaba is chicken,” Nishinoya cuts in with a snort from where she’s strolling beside Tanaka, arms crossed behind her head. “I got fifty on her not showing.”
“Make it sixty and you’ve got a deal,” Tanaka shoots back instantly.
“But you guys wait, it gets even better,” Hinata giggles. “I commented that they should do it during lunch behind the sheds, so we can see it too and she said that she responded like oh you mean me and Shinozaki’s favorite spot!”
“No way! What did Youko say?” Tanaka asks, practically shaking Hinata for answers.
“That of course a monkey-brained moron like Takaba would think that,” Hinata says before erupting in giggles while the other girls double over in hysterics. “God, boys really make people do the dumbest shit. It’s not like it’s volleyball.”
“That’s because you’re too volleyball-brained Shoyo,” Nishinoya chastises. “Boys are dumb but some of them are hot, especially the pretty upperclassmen.”
“Yeah, you’re missing out on all the babes. I’d be surprised if you even had a crush,” Takaba laughs.
“I have a crush!”
“On who?” Nishinoya shoots back.
“Not telling,” Hinata sticks out her tongue.
“What about you Kageyama?” Nishinoya suddenly asks.
Kageyama nearly trips, trying to cover her blunder by straightening and pulling out a bud quickly. Her mind blanks as she runs through a list of boy names before settling on the most plausible. “Matsuoka.”
“The quiet guy from our year?” Tanaka hums.
“But he’s so ugly,” Hinata bemoans. “It can’t be Kageyama; even you’re not that much of a blockhead.”
“I’m just shocked she didn’t say the court,” Tanaka chortles while Nishinoya breaks out into a barking laugh as Hinata’s deep frown melts into hiccuping humor.
“Whatever,” Hinata finally says, “I just hope those girls actually fight tomorrow whether over a stupid oaf or not. I mean you guys won’t imagine what Takaba responds with after Youko’s next post!”
Their rancorous jeers are finally drowned out by the base blasting through the speakers tucked into her ears as Kageyama rolls her eyes. As she walks away, she hopes that none of them had noticed how quick she’d been to answer their question despite having supposedly been listening to her music.
She waits until she’s home to dig out her phone. Unable to resist her curiosity, she logs onto the app she thinks Hinata had been referencing earlier. Unlike Snapchat or Instagram, she found Twitter to be entirely useless. Hardly any of their friends except for Hinata used it, it looked beyond complicated to use, and ‘really funny posts’ hardly sounded like a draw. But she’d already refused to download Tumblr after her sister had laughed so hard when she’d asked how to install it that she’d reported back to Hinata that she was an embarrassing idiot.
But the two other apps had been bare for once, and thus she’d opened the intimidating application. When she’d inquired her sister as to its functions, Miwa had just rolled her eyes and told her she was better off without it. Annoyingly, she finds her to be mostly right after spending more than a few minutes struggling through opening her messages, followed by what feels like hours scrolling to find the correct video amongst the hordes of random sports clips that she’d already seen before on other platforms. Kageyama concludes the app is pointless, closes it, and forgets about it for three years.
It isn’t until she’s playing professional volleyball for the Schweiden Adlers that Kageyama even remembers she has a Twitter account, let alone opens it.
When Hinata had first told her she’d be leaving for Brazil, Kageyama hadn’t felt too many emotions. It was odd and warranted the surprise that came with a sudden announcement. But, Hinata still badgered her daily with texts and Kageyama had her own budding career to worry about.
It takes her running into Tsukishima during a random ad shoot for the weight of someone, who’d probably been her best friend, no longer being in her life to settle in. It must have been about five months since Hinata had left, and Kageyama’s life had since become an unending stream of practices and games.
Kageyama didn’t often run into the blonde and furthermore wasn’t particularly ecstatic to hear whatever gripe she was going to lodge at her. Surprisingly, it wasn’t any of the usual insults that had stuck out to her but rather Tsukishima off-handedly mentioned how much she’d been enjoying the silence in their old team’s group chat.
All it takes is that one comment ping-ponging around in Kageyama’s head to send her snowballing. At first, she isn’t even sure why it sticks out to her. Her initial thoughts were simply, oh I guess it has been a while since I’ve had to read through a flurry of confusing texts, which was then followed by ah, this is probably because Hinata hasn’t sent some random meme or confusing photo to all of us. Which had then spiraled into, when was the last time Hinata and I spoke?
On her bus ride home from the shoot, Kageyama sits silently. Back in high school, she could never have imagined a day when she didn’t wake up to twenty texts from Hinata. And yet they’d somehow grown so far apart that it’d now been weeks of silence? Just like that? After only a few months?
And it’d taken her this long to notice?
Kageyama couldn’t stop scrolling through their messages in the few days, staring at how texts had become more infrequent as they both got busier, less descriptive, less familiar. In the next week, she checks other accounts, scrolling through the typical apps she hated using to confirm that she hadn’t been mistaken and in fact, Hinata hadn’t posted in ages. There was only the silence on all fronts.
It’s as if a bandaid has been ripped off, and she can no longer stop noticing the friendships the rest of her teammates make, the group of young adults she sees drinking at freshly opened restaurants, the two women she spots hunched close together on the bus.
She tries to think of something to send Hinata as the girl she’d barely thought about in months starts to cloud her mind, but she can think of nothing that wouldn’t suggest at the now awkward distance between them. She pictures Hinata in the quiet moments she has between practices, wondering how she’d react to the message, if she’d be surprised, confused, happy. Would she point out how weird it was for Kageyama to send a text first for once? Would she notice? Where would she be when she got the text? What did Hinata’s bedroom look like? Her living room? Her kitchen? What did she do in her day-to-day? Was it the same as it had been months ago?
Thus, it isn’t long before Kageyama succumbs after a particularly grueling practice. She’s winded and sweaty even after her shower and cool down, watching as her other teammates make plans and filter out from where she’s plopped down on the bench in front of her locker—thoughts still scattered on the court beyond the closed walls of the locker room, she reaches for her phone and opens Twitter.
It’s not hard to find Hinata’s page as it’s the one account she’d ever followed from the only time she’d opened the app a couple of years ago.
Previously, Kageyama had seen a few of the sparing selfies Hinata had sent over the past few months. She’d glance over them on the way to practice and make some off handed comment Hinata would respond to when she woke up. They were always a bit blurry or used to showcase whatever curiosity she’d stumble upon. In fact, she spots one of them now when she opens Hinata’s page.
Looking now at the pinned post that welcomes her, Kageyama pieces together that Hinata had probably sent the picture of her with Oikawa to everyone—eyes widening as she takes in the sheer amount of likes and other metrics she can’t conceptualize. She wonders then if she’d done the same with all of the other ones she’d receive, wearily eyeing the high amount of followers she didn’t remember her having anywhere close to before scrolling.
The life she discovers encapsulated on that page is hardly one Kageyama remembers from their chats. Gone are the few friends and woes of a tourist replaced by pictures of sprawling green landscapes, and big dinners with faces she doesn’t recognize. And then there are pictures of Hinata herself, the more recent ones. Thus, Kageyama learns that even more has changed about Hinata.
Gone is the scrawny girl who looked like she’d float away at any moment, and in standing rooted in her place is the woman who stares back at Kageyama through her phone screen. She’s golden and glowing, tanner and taller. Broader and beaming. In the videos posted of her playing, she watches how her calves flex when she jumps, how her biceps bunch when her palm makes contact with the ball. It makes Kageyama set down her phone, wave away Wakatoshi’s attempt at discussing their performances, sidestep their manager, and head back on her bus home. Kageyama goes to sleep early that night.
She tries to stay off that app. But her inquisition acts as some sort of floodgate, and now Kageyama spends the hours she has at home that aren’t dedicated to watching old game clips or meal-prepping, scrolling on that accursed app. In lieu of texting her, it seems Hinata opts to send her messages to the masses, cultivating what she soon pieces together is a niche base of Brazilian volleyball fans.
It also means that Kageyama has to translate hordes of texts, getting lost in confusing spammed messages that translate into gibberish. With time she learns to pick up on vernacular, saving photos without thinking and soon finding herself liking comments for those she agreed with that judged the clips Hinata posts accurately. So when Hinata tweets eagerly about some magazine she’s going to get a small feature in about international players, Kageyama is able to spot the link that one of her fans posts in the comments. It takes some figuring out and a confusing set of rationalizations but Kageyama receives a package a few weeks later allowing her to peruse that same magazine. It’s to analyze Hinata’s gameplay to size her up, Kageyama says to herself. She wouldn’t let Hinata outsmart her with whatever devious surprise attacks she was coming up with halfway across the globe. It takes her hours to translate the page, a longer still to stop looking at the small photo they use of Hinata smiling and effervescent.
From there it just becomes a part of her daily routine, a habit almost. From the veil of her account, Kageyama learns of Hinata’s life. She watches how her popularity grows; she’s there when the stories of ‘Ninja Shoyo’ roll-out, grabbing hard copies of those too just in case.
It does make text conversations with Hinata, in the rare times they do happen, a bit awkward. But Kageyama handles them swimmingly, only feeling a bit guilty for how easily the conversation tapers off. It’s odd though to have the woman she’s accidentally stalking talk to her in that cordial tone of unfamiliarity. Stranger still since Kageyama already knows her answers when she inquires about her life.
She’s not surprised when almost a year and a half later Hinata announces her return—having been more than aware weeks prior. If anything she’s just extra ready for the magazines and articles, for the interviews and merch that starts rolling out. She’d always preferred the clean white of Adler’s to the dramatic black and gold of the MSBY Jackals but discovers that she doesn’t mind it all that much once it begins to slowly eat up her apartment’s decor.
Kageyama isn’t entirely sure how it reaches this point, where she’s practically nervous to see Hinata again, stomach a mess the night before their game against one another. A curiosity to study foreign strategies had warped into this peculiar hobby of collecting all things related to a former teammate. It’s not that she’d even been much of a collector as a child, unmoved when other girls would trade animal shaped rubber bands and food themed erasers. She could never have predicted the unique enjoyment that’d spring up whenever she’d secured another piece. If anything she begins to take pride in how she excelled at obtaining all things related to Hinata.
The years of scouring had turned her into a pro so now with the influx of new fans, ones that spoke a language she understood, and the merch that came along with it, was not something she could ignore.
One moment she’s buying a few magazines to account for any shipping disasters and in the next she’s buying a limited edition plush a creative fan had knit and in the moment after that, she’s spending hundreds on a signed jersey all before she’s even faced Hinata again in court.
It makes the words she spits out at Hinata jerky and odd-tasting in her mouth. And yet somehow, even when standing in front of the woman hanging on her wall in several photos and posters, Kageyama realizes that it’s almost as if no time has passed. On one hand, Hinata is even tanner and toned up close, her hair short and wavy as her smile grows and her voice fills the space between them. But, after a few seconds together she doesn’t have to think twice before bickering back.
It’s strange seeing Hinata play from afar. Being across from her.
Even after watching all the clips, the shock she feels at seeing such a clear display of her growth and strength is as surprising as it is exciting. Seeing her jump in person was something otherworldly, especially from across the net. Hinata got good. Hinata got really good. Plain and simple.
She’d taken that spark that had first bewitched her all those years and molded it into something spectacular. From a clump of rare metal to a sharpened spear, Hinata moves like she was made for it. The smile that spreads across Kageyama’s face is one she can’t avoid or fight. Hinata was insane. And she wanted to see more.
It turns out that being more present in Hinata’s life is much easier than she’d originally assumed. Other than the occasional game, they manage to grab dinners and calls together whether it be to discuss other matches, swap stories about their years apart, or rant about a show they’d both seen, talking to Hinata is natural.
Things were different, but at the same time, it was just so easy. Hinata got her in a way she was relieved to discover was not something she’d imagined. With just a look she knew what Kageyama thought about the waiter who’d tried hitting on them, and would start bursting out laughing. It would only take a cough for her to slide over her dish for Kageyama to have a bite. And on windier nights she’d sheepishly thank Kageyama for the extra coat she’d brought her.
Months pass like that and for a second Kageyama almost thinks her collecting habit might come to pass as she felt it was probably a bit strange to continue whilst being friends with Hinata—until some new exclusive item is announced and Kageyama’s wallet is suddenly in her hands. A few times she has to resist snatching something when she’s over at Hinata’s apartment or asking her about a product she’d had difficulty obtaining. It also makes inviting Hinata over awkward as she has to make sure every incriminating item, which at this point might as well be most of her apartment, is put away first.
Still, things continue on, and Kageyama settles for balance. Some days she is Hinata Shoyo’s long-time rival and on others she’s tapping away on her anonymous account, keeping up with fan blogs and other fan drama whilst keeping her eyes peeled for any new drops. Kageyama waves away her guilt with the promise that as long as Hinata didn’t find out, surely this was doing no harm. She was just keeping tabs on an opponent, intense tabs that spoke to her level of commitment and dedication.
But Kageyama has never been one for balance. It’s not a quality that comes naturally to her. A venture not carried out to the best of her ability was simply not one worth pursuing. So, like with everything else, it takes a monumental effort to exhibit any amount of control in her continuing hobby.
It wasn’t enough that she could only have one copy or that she’d get a resell months later. Kageyama had to be the best at collecting Hinata Shoyo-themed merchandise, otherwise, she might as well have not done it at all.
Of course, the first time she takes in that pristine white lettering above a vibrant red should definitely not be the moment it comes out of a large cardboard box folded neatly and cool to the touch in her apartment. It should be in the locker rooms, perhaps even in the Olympic Village, or when they first received them back in Tokyo amongst the other goodies they’d been handed. Anywhere but in the comfort of her own home.
“It’s whatever,” she responds when Hinata jumps up in front of her, spinning around to show her her back.
“What, how can you say that?” Hinata wails, planting herself in front of Kageyama and dramatically pouting. With how lit up her eyes are though it comes off as a bit off-putting. “This is literally the coolest thing ever.”
“Not if you’ve already seen it before,” Kageyama says, only registering her words a moment later with mounting dread. It had been so second nature to respond with a boast that she’d forgotten the reason she’d seen Hinata’s jersey before her was not a reason worth bragging about let alone bringing up.
“Yeah well sorry Ms. Big Shot Olympics that we peasants share in your honor,” Hinata whines, tugging on her arm, having luckily misunderstood Kageyama’s words.
“Shut up,” she huffs as Hinata snickers.
Fortunately, enough years of volleyball fine-tuning means that Kageyama can switch from forgetting about planning how she’d snagged the signed jersey after their match to relearning how to play with a powerhouse like Hinata. Though to be fair, it’s a bit of an overstatement to refer to it as relearning as playing alongside Hinata is as simple as breathing. There’s no thought that has to go into adapting to her playstyle. Kageyama plays as she intends without thinking and Hinata is already there.
She wonders if Hinata feels it too. Kageyama had thought she was used to playing with athletes of a different caliber but standing there, facing the world with the most elite, she couldn’t fight the buzz of exactly how phenomenal and impressive her team was. But putting such an arsenal to use requires precision and adjusting. With Hinata, Kageyama merely does and already knows that she understands. It’s as if she’s having all of her thoughts read. It’s electric and Kageyama can feel that sense of pure adrenaline as everything blurs out and it’s only her, the court, the ball, and Hinata—all breathing as one.
It almost feels wrong to wave goodbye to her team after, to break apart such a well-functioning unit as they all once more became separate parts. It feels especially off-putting to watch Hinata walk away.
While packing for Italy, Kageyama resolves to herself that she must make some efforts to curb her addiction. As she unpacks the many trinkets, and doodads she’d been unable to throw away and is relieved had survived the move, she reinstates this tenet to herself.
However, Kageyama soon comes to accept that a Hinata who’s even more out of her life is much less acceptable than her embarrassing predilection. She reasons that as an adult it was probably time she learned to accept such a thing.
The people of Italy are different. Kageyama who’d only left the country before for games where she’d only frequent sparingly is left reeling in a way she doesn’t expect. She doesn’t understand the language or the culture. People stare and she feels her neck warm up with each wrong turn she makes.
No one knows Japanese and her English is still awful. Italian feels impossible to parse, spoken too quickly for her to identify any words, and quicker still when she flounders. Outside of her team, she doesn’t know many people. Kageyama already hated speaking to strangers when they understood her. So in a country where she can barely speak a word through a thick accent feels like such a punch that she can’t even fault herself once she turns back to her hobby.
(It’s not that she doesn’t try getting along with her team, participating in the conversations that she can make out. She tries not to flat-out ignore them.
“And you?” Kageyama looks up from her phone recognizing the variation that she had come to associate with the Italian version of her name. In all fairness though, she could distinguish the improvement in their tone, clearly making the effort.
She blinks, wondering what she’d missed as the rest of her team eyes her from where they’re dressing. “What?”
“What type of guy—” an elbow knocks her teammate, Emma, a tall brunette with eyes like the sea, from continuing as their captain sighs.
“C’mon,” the elbower, Bianca, blonde and always grinning, giggles, gesturing to the rest of the room and saying something else in Italian Kageyama can’t quite make out.
Emma shakes her head. “Fine,” she turns back to Kageyama. “What type of girl you…like?”
Kageyama’s brow furrows as Bianca laughs again. “Likes,” Bianca says in her more accented English, following it with kissing noises and batting eyelashes.
“More girly girl?” Emma asks. “Or more butch?”
Kageyama splutters.
“Idiot,” their libero, whose name Kageyama had honestly forgotten, butts in. “She has a girl.”
They all over at Kageyama with wide eyes. “Huh?”
“Her phone,” the libero says. “Show.”
Shit, Kageyama realizes. She’d seen her wallpaper. The one with one Hinata Shoyo caught in mid-air, right as her hand connected with the ball.
Kageyama gapes, trying to think how to explain the confusion. “No,” she tries, “not mine.”
They all continue to stare at her, clearly not understanding. Kageyama sighs, knowing explaining would only make it worse. She takes out her phone. The speed with which they gather around nearly makes her drop it as they make appreciative noises.
“Hinata? Damn!” their libero says, slapping her on the back.
Emma smiles, “Ah, I see. Butch.”)
Besides, it wasn’t like she longed for much outside of playing. So if she could brighten her day by commissioning a few artisans and painting her apartment with the rich orange and blues of Asas São Paulo, who could blame her? So what if she records all their games and occasionally buys tickets when they play in neighboring countries, Europe is so small after all! Why wouldn’t Hianta buy that she’d just been traveling at that exact time?
Kageyama’s grown so acclimated to it at this point that standing on the opposite side of Hinata during the Championships Final game doesn’t bring up a single thought pertaining to her concerning collection. Her mind clears with only the burning sensation of beating Hinata left. She eyes her from across the court, feeling the weight of months of separation, and steels herself. Time apart and time to prove herself.
Which is why Kageyama nearly shrieks in pure frustration once she registers something in her knee pop. The pain is secondary to the realization that if she cared at all about continuing her career she would need to step out for the rest of the game. She barely registers her teammates’ words of concern or the referee’s questions above the ringing in her ears. Her frown solidifies as she processes how she can’t limp away to the bench.
“I’ve got her.”
Kageyama breaks out of her spell, the sun shining through the dense layer of clouds swarming her. Hinata says nothing else, waiting for the people around her to clear before ducking underneath the arm Kageyama hadn’t even processed that she had raised. She moves quickly, scooping up Kageyama in one swift motion, hand clutched around her thighs.
Face heating unexpectedly, Kageyama wraps her other arm around her shoulder as her tongue lies limp in her mouth. Luckily, Hinata doesn’t say anything either, merely marching her over. She smells good, Kageyama’s mind manages to spit out as the rest of her brain continues tumbling over itself in a rush of panic. Somehow whilst sweating up a storm in the middle of their match, she smells good. She’s warm too, Kageyama thinks as she huddles closer.
Hinata pats her on the back once and Kageyama prays she can’t hear the singular oomph she lets out. It must be drowned out by the sound of cheering Kageyama’s pretending she doesn’t hear.
But then the moment is over and she’s dropped onto the sidelines as Hinata shares one final look with her before returning to her team. She watches Hinata’s arms as she walks away, thinking about how easily she’d carried her, without any wobble or failing—how sturdy and capable she’d felt. Certainly a far cry from the scrawny high schooler she could have beat at arm wrestling any day of the week.
Thus, Kageyama regards her injury with opposing prognoses. On one hand, the fan within her was ecstatic at such front-row seats to watch the Hinata Shoyo play. To witness the pure talent that would unfold as Hinata’s gaze locked and she fell into the rhythm that was so utterly her. Surrounded by the cheering stadium of fans, energy swelling for such a high-stakes match, Kageyama swallows as her eyes race to track Hinata.
Yet, on the other hand, she was locked away from experiencing such fierce competition. During a game that had taken years of accumulation, a determination from both of their teams to make it this far, and yet she was sidelined for its finality.
It’s especially aggravating as Kageyama already feels her leg get better from the icing and elevation, knowing it wasn’t too bad of an injury.
She almost wants Hinata’s team to win, as any victory of her own over Hinata’s would be shallow and unearned without Kageyama there. (It would also make purchasing her signed jersey much easier but that was not a thought Kageyama was willing to entertain.)
So that when they do, she’s hardly too upset, already working on mustering up the argument she’d offer over how Hinata’s accomplishment was only because of Kageyama’s injury. She tells Hinata exactly this at the club both of their teams end up at, laughing at the coincidence while Kageyama hobbles over while being cautious of her leg.
“As if,” Hinata snorts, she runs a hand through her short hair, before digging her hand back into her jeans. Her simple open flannel and black turtle neck make Kageyama feel even more out of place in her white button-down and dark slacks. Kageyama had protested the night out in general, especially as she was in no mood to party after they’d lost their match. But the rest of the team had insisted on raising spirits and it wasn’t their fault that this was the one lesbian bar in the city. “Don’t be a sore loser dumb-face.”
“How are you in your 20s and you still speak like you’re ten?”
Hinata rolls her eyes taking an obnoxiously loud sip of her sparkly drink. Around them, their teammates gather in different spots across the room while she and Hinata linger by the bar.
“How are you in your 20s and you still don’t drink?”
“I drink.”
“Yeah right,” Hinata, raises an eyebrow, gesturing to one of the other women on Kageyama’s team, currently flirting with a girl she’d met. “Should I go over and ask her that?”
“She’s busy.”
“Uh huh,” Hinata leans closer, giving Kageyama another dousing of that sea breeze-like scent that clung to her. “So you won’t object to me ordering you a drink? Your team let me win clearly. So, it’s the least I can do.”
“Do whatever you want idiot.”
Hinata winks, waving over the bartender and listing off some order Kageyama can’t hear over the music. Her face scrunches up immediately on the first sip, glaring at Hinata as she sets down the tall glass a few minutes later.
“Don’t be such a baby,” Hinata says. Kageyama hopes it’s dark enough that her bright cheeks aren’t too noticeable. “It can’t be that bad.”
“This is poison; you’re poisoning me.”
“What a drama queen,” Hinata sighs. “Here, try mine. Maybe you’ll like it more.”
Kageyama leans over, thoughts jumbling up again as Hinata poises her straw at the edge of her cup, fingers only a hairbreadth away from her lips as she takes a sip.
Coughing, Kageyama leans back. “What is wrong with you?”
“What? It tastes good!”
“You really are trying to kill me,” Kageyama chokes out, reaching for her drink as a clear lesser of two evils.
“You’re no fun,” Hinata says, throwing back the rest of her drink. She wipes the back of her mouth, turning to eye the dance floor for the umpteenth time before looking over at Kageyama. “Well anyway, it’s a point for me if you don’t finish that.”
“Says who?” she asks, unsure why Hinata throws her head back, laughing. “And I don’t need a babysitter you asshole so stop hovering and go dance.”
“Kageyama,” she begins with a whine, and Kageyama doesn’t like how the bit of alcohol running through is already heating her up like a furnace at that. “You’re so mean to me.”
“Go.”
“But I want to be here.”
“But I don’t want you to,” she responds as Hinata begins unconvincing theatrics, clearly beginning to feel the effects of her third drink. Kageyama hides a grin behind her hand. “Now go dance.”
And because Hinata is as stupid as she is, she says, “Only if you come with me.”
“I can’t. Remember, idiot?” Kageyama says after a silence that was spent far too long considering the words before snapping to her senses with the knowledge that she not only hated dancing but that they were in this predicament in the first place because of her knee.
“I’ll carry you.”
Kageyama coughs, wheeling around to face the bar and look away from Hinata’s pleading brown eyes. “Shut up. Leave already.”
“Fine but don’t have too much fun without me,” Hinata calls. Once Kageyama’s sure she’s left, she turns back, easily spotting Hinata amongst the other dancers, swaying between two of her teammates. Watching as more and more girls go up to approach them, Kageyama pulls herself off her barstool, going to sit where Emma and a few other girls from her team and Hinata’s have claimed a booth for themselves. They make room for her at the end, letting her listen in while occasionally checking in with her as they typically did when their team went out after games.
She doesn’t realize she’s begun to doze off until she awakes from one of the girls from the other team jostling her. “Look, she’s going to do it.”
Hinata looks sheepish as she accepts the unopened beer bottle. “Guys,” she complains.
“But you have the belt!” Another player from her team yells. “Do it!”
Shaking her head, Hinata brings the bottle to her belt and with a twist snaps the top off. Kageyama swallows thickly as she hands the fizzing bottle to one of the other girls and goes through the rest of the beverages offered to her.
Kageyama’s eyes follow as she hands the last bottle with enthusiasm making a show of handing it over with a wink to the last girl. The rest of the table cheers, rooting Hinata on with waving glasses and bottles as their teams intermingled into one large group. Hinata scratches at the back of her neck with a laugh, nearing Kageyama’s side of the table in a bid to escape the limelight and sit.
“Your girl,” Emma says, nudging Kageyama and pointing to Hinata. Confused, Kageyama rubs her eyes, getting up as Emma shoves her. She points for Hinata to sit in her seat. She then points at Kageyama.
“Oh,” Hinata says, as if anything made sense, fitting a hand around Kageyama’s waist and tugging her to her lap. Kageyama freezes, suddenly realizing what the other had meant. The rest of Kageyama’s team was still under the impression that she and Hinata were dating. And now she was sitting on her childhood friend’s lap. Surrounded by an assortment of their teams who were all getting increasingly drunk at this point.
At least Hinata doesn’t seem to mind, easily navigating Kageyama to keep her knee elevated, and then reaching back around her for her drink. Kageyama’s ears buzz as she reaches for her own drink to have something to do as she sits there awkwardly.
“‘Yama drinking?” Bianca shrieks. “Oh my god!”
She shoots them glares, while Hinata laughs behind her. “I knew it! I knew she doesn’t drink.”
Kageyama knows it's not convincing to just snuggle closer in anger, but Hinata was so warm and comfortable. The more she drank the more it felt like a good idea to start playing with her tufts of caramel hair, especially as Hinata had snuck a hand around her hip bone, drumming against it while she engaged with the rest of the table, often shouting and jostling Kageyama with her fits of passion.
It feels only natural to set her cheek against that silken hair, closing her eyes for a moment of rest from the onslaught of club music.
“Hinata,” she tugs on her shirt for attention. “Finished my drink. It’s my point.”
“Ok,” Hinata says, with a small squeeze of her side. “Going to take her home now.”
Kageyama blinks warily, unsure as to how much time had passed as Hinata urges her to her feet.
“Where is her apartment?” Hinata asks.
Kageyama’s peers exchange looks of mischief, laughing and winking at Hinata as they shoo her away. “Don’t need to pretend Hinata!”
“Go have fun,” another yells.
With a scowl, Kageyama wraps a hand around Hinata’s wrist, tugging her out before any of the others could blurt out any incriminating information. Apparently, her humiliation knows no bounds as a second later she stumbles and is only saved from an acquaintanceship with the floor by Hinata’s quick reflexes. Hinata pulls an arm around her shoulders without question as she steers Kageyama out.
“Careful now.”
“I’m not a baby,” she pouts.
Hinata laughs, poking her cheek. “If you say so.”
Kageyama grumbles something under her breath, typing her address into Hinata’s phone when prompted. The rest of their trip back to her apartment passes in a blur as she naps ever so slightly against Hinata in the cab she hails for them.
She’s still a bit groggy as she follows Hinata up to her floor, handing over her keys. It isn’t until the lock clicks that Kageyama realizes her mistake.
“Wait—” she starts, reaching forward for Hinata. But she’s too late and Hinata has barged in. Kageyama barrels in after her, trying to toe off her shoes as Hinata speeds ahead to stand in the center of her living room. “Hinata wait!”
Hinata turns to her, a room full of Hinata merchandise framing her wide eyes and gaping mouth, she immediately looks past Kageyama, taking in the other side of the room. Her eyes glance over the many posters hung up, the couch cushions embroidered with her number, the bobble heads cluttering shelves, framed jerseys both signed and not. She catches sight of the magazines arranged on her coffee table in disarray clearly having been read, and then whips her head around to the kitchen, eyes settling on mugs, plates, themed snacks, still left out with her visage.
Kageyama’s mouth dries out so fast that she can barely even manage a croak. “I— I can explain.”
Hinata looks back at her, seeming to think something over before darting away.
“Shit,” Kageyaya huffs, trying to chase after her. “Hinata you piece of shit stop!”
But then Hinata’s swings open her bedroom door, and she’s taking in the sheer amount of custom made plushies and throw pillows, the figurines and pajamas still left out displaying the different numbers she’d worn. She looks at framed photographs depicting a variety of countries she’d been in.
“Kageyama,” she says finally, staring at the longest pillow occupying her bed, the one that reflected Hinata’s face back at her. “Do you have a crush on me?”
Kageyama wheezes, backpedaling away. “No,” she shrieks. “This is just…someone gave this to me as a joke.”
“Who?”
“Someone. You don’t know them.”
“And you kept it?”
Kageyama frowns. “I’m not wasteful.”
“You could have donated.”
“Too embarrassing,” Kageyama responds.
“Or put stuff into storage!”
“Still a waste.”
Hinata shakes her head. “Is having a crush on me that shameful?”
“It’s not a crush,” Kageyama refutes as Hinata plops down at the chair residing by her desk, leaning back to take in the rest of the room. Her elbow nudges Kageyama’s mouse as she does it, lighting up her computer screen.
Hinata turns just in time to catch how years of putting off setting up a password catch up with Kageyama in one horrible dreadful moment as the screen changes from a still of the woods to a left open browser framed behind another picture of Hinata. The picture though is inconsequential to the social media page that’s displayed. Hinata jumps to her feet, “Eh?! Shoyo’s thunder thighs daily?”
Kageyama hangs her head, pursing her lips. She walks forward, shutting off the screen despite Hinata’s or her knee’s protests. “You can leave now,” she whispers. “Please pretend you never saw this.”
“What?” Hinata yells annoyingly. “And forget the best thing I’ve ever seen? I can’t believe you like me! The great queen…likes a peasant like me…”
Kageyama’s frown deepens, “What peasant? Weren’t you named the best player of our division this year?”
“I mean if anyone would know that it would be you.”
Kageyama’s not sure her face can get any redder. She reaches for Hinata’s wrist, pulling hard and yanking the other woman out of the seat. “Get. Out.”
“What? Kageyama,” Hinata whines. “You’re hurting my feelings! Don’t you have a crush on me?”
“Leave!” she says again, trying to push through her humiliation. Hinata plants her feet though, tugging back just as hard.
“But I don’t want to.”
“Ugh,” Kageyama grunts, pulling again. It wasn’t fair that the other was shorter and thus had a sturdier base which made her harder to move. She reaches forward for a better grip at the same time that her knee twinges and Hinata pulls back, falling forward with a yelp.
“Hinata!”
As they’re both professional athletes, Hinata maneuvers them back toward the bed, falling back with a grunt as her heel hits the edge of the frame while Kageyama tries to guide their momentum. Hinata wraps strong hands around the backs of her thighs, lifting her as she lands on the mattress. She settles her carefully, lowering slowly once they’re both still.
“How’s your knee?” Hinata asks.
“Fine,” Kageyama responds, almost sad when Hinata removes her hands back to prop herself up on the bed while Kageyama tries to lighten the weight on her knee. Kageyama crosses her arms, unsure where to place them as she stares down at her long-time friend.
“So, you come here often?” Hinata asks with a cheesy wink and grin, laughing when Kageyama flicks her forehead. “What I’m just asking?”
She leans forward, sticking out her tongue while Kageyama rolls her eyes. “This isn’t you leaving, you dumbass.”
“But I think we both know that you’re a liar and actually you really want me to stay. Don’t be embarrassed, it's stupid.”
“I’m not embarrassed.”
“You are!” Hinata declares, leaning closer. Kageyama inhales sharply, refusing to back down as Hinata got so close she could see the blonde hair on her cheeks, at the sides of her face. Before she can stop herself, she looks down at her pursed pink lips, swallowing as she traces how her tongue rubs along her lower lip.
“Am not,” she says though it comes out in more of a whisper, looking back up to see Hinata’s gaze similarly downcast.
“Kageyama,” Hinata says carefully. “Can I— ?”
Kageyama’s only momentarily confused until she realizes how Hinata’s closed her eyes and moved in, shutting her own tightly and holding her breath. Her eyes fly back open when she processes the gentle press against her mouth, fisting a hand in Hinata’s shirt and yanking the other forward closer when Hinata begins to back away.
Hinata seems to receive the message, pressing back with just as much force, kissing her more firmly and beginning to move her lips. Instantly, Kageyama can tell Hinata has been with other people, as unlike her stumbling lack of coordination, her fiery kiss is practiced. She kisses as if she’s competing, fierce and hurried.
Infuriated, Kageyama shoves against her, trying to match the pace. She opens her mouth when Hinata does, licking angrily, even when Hinata pushes their tongues back into her mouth.
Hinata pulls back, snickering when Kageyama chases her. “Less spit,” she says, wiping the back of her mouth before diving back in with a nip to Kageyama’s lower lip. “Also that’s one point for me because you suck.”
Hinata silences her retort by shoving her tongue in again, hypnotically lapping against her tongue, the insides of her cheeks, her teeth, the roof of her mouth. It was as if she was trying to consume her. It made it hard to think of anything else such that when Hinata pulls back for air, Kageyama is surprised that she gasps along with her.
When Hinata leans back in, her mouth meets hers halfway. Kageyama threads her finger through her hair to try to bring her closer, to convey her anger at Hinata for being better at this than her. How dare she one-up her? How dare she have had practice with this? Even worse, Hinata keeps her hands to the bed behind her, as if she was too scared to touch her back. Kageyama makes some angry huffing noise into Hinata’s open mouth, reaching behind her to pull her hands forward.
Surprisingly, Hinata springs forward, running hands through her hair and down her neck, peeling away her lips to lay kisses then along where her hands had just been, tugging her button down out of her pants to then spread warm palms along her back, mapping the skin.
She sucks a mark right above her collarbone. Feeling as if she would explode, or possibly float away if Hinata didn’t continue kissing her. She pulls her back up to smash their lips together again—sighing into the lack of space between them.
“I can’t believe you like me,” she mumbles dumbly, pulling back a hand to wipe her thumb across Kageyama’s lower lip when they part for air, eyes widening when Kageyama licks across her nail bed instinctively. “The Kageyama Tobio. Kissing me.”
“Stupid,” Kageyama huffs, leaning back in—already missing Hinata warm and refreshing inside her mouth. She coughs then, cringing as the move pulls on her kneecap.
Hinata blinks owlishly. “Your knee?”
“Yes.”
She nods, saluting her and then grabbing the sides of her hips and tugging her to carefully place her on her back. Kageyama lands with a gasp, mouth parting as Hinata throws off her flannel, tugging up her black shirt to reveal her muscled and toned abdomen and sun-kissed skin.
Kageyama begins undoing the buttons of her own shirt, scared that Hinata might see whatever expression she might have been making. She halts as Hinata cries out, a thumb still in the waistband of her jeans as she doubles over in pain.
“Shit,” she groans. “This dumb box. Didn’t anyone ever tell you to clean up?” Hinata reaches down as Kageyama’s heart drops.
“Hinata stop,” she tries, crawling after her. The apartment reveal had been horrible, an absolute embarrassment, but things were still not as bad as possible. Kageyama still had some dignity to walk away with.
“Holy shit.” Or not.
Kageyama sighs, falling back in defeat.
“Kageyama.” Hinata drops the small box on the bed with a thud. “You are just full of surprises!”
“Leave,” she tries weakly, refusing to look at the assortment of sex toys Hinata was oohing and awing at. All of the blood in her body rushes to her face. What had she done to deserve this?
“This is massive!” Hinata retorts, waving a dildo in her face.
“Shut up you imbecile!”
“Woah,” Hinata continues, clearly unphased. “What’s this?”
Kageyama reaches forward quickly, having forgotten about her newest purchase and hoping to grab it before Hinata could piece it together. It had been a lonely few months in a new country which was daunting and confusing. And perhaps she’d gotten a bit more shameless than she would have ever previously allowed herself. But curiosity was killer and Kageyama had assumed in the sanctuary of her small apartment, there would be nothing to lose.
But, Hinata gets to the large toy and its external button before her. She waggles it around, pressing down on the first button, and nearly dropping it as it vibrates in her hand. It’s only when she reaches for the second that Kageyama breaks out of her stupefaction to yank her arm back.
“Don’t!” Hinata looks at her unconvinced. “You’ll…make a mess.”
Hinata’s brows furrow. “A mess? What type of mess?”
“What kind do you think, idiot?”
She looks back at Kageyama then back at the toy, then back to the other vials of fake cum sitting in the box, and stares at Kageyama with wide eyes, setting down the contraption slowly. Kageyama prepares herself for the laughter, for the mockery—explanation ready that would no doubt usher in more laughter and mockery.
“Kageyama,” she says hoarsely. “Can I eat you out?”
“What?”
“If that’s ok and stuff,” Hinata mutters in that same affected voice.
Kageyama squints at her, trying to spot the joke or whatever piece of information she was missing to make sense of the other’s behavior. Finding nothing of help, she slowly nods.
Hinata nods back and then her fingers are at the buttons of Kageyama’s shirt, opening them quickly, tugging her up her sports bra, and laying her mouth down on the freed skin. Refusing to be defeated, she reaches for Hinata’s sports bra, successfully pulling it over and finally getting to touch the shoulder blades she’d spent years at this point staring at photos of. Kageyama takes in the paler flesh she remembered from their youth, transfixed now by the sharp line between it and the rest of her golden skin.
She couldn’t believe it. Hinata Shoyo. The Hinata Shoyo. Hinata Shoyo! Hinata! Shoyo! In her bed, taking off her bra, mouthing at her nipple while her other hand massaged her breast. For a moment she almost wants to take a photo of them, something she could show off to the rest of Hinata’s fans, to brag about how it was she who was with Hinata.
Her back arches into Hinata’s mouth panting as she trails down, lifting her hips to help her tug off her belt and pull down the tight black dress pants. Hinata kisses her abs, licks along the dark hair leading down from her navel, sucking the skin directly above her boxers before tugging them off too.
Exposed, Kageyama tries to pull her knees together, sucking in a breath when Hinata gently pulls her legs back apart, fingers pushing away her hair as she kisses around her cunt. When she finally places her mouth, warm and vibrating with her hums, Kageyama quakes, yanking on a tuft of hair as her tongue licks her outer folds.
Kageyama’s practically shivering by the time she’s finished coating the outside of her pussy with her spit, hiccuping once she uses two fingers to push apart her walls. She drops a suctioning kiss to her clit before replacing her touch with a rubbing finger and heading downward.
The dexterity and precision, the practiced rhythms all tell Kageyama this is not the first time she’s done this.
“You asshole,” she hisses as Hinata begins to fuck her with her tongue. Eyes screwing shut as she spots Hinata rubbing the heel of her palm against the front of her pants. “I’ll never forgive you.”
Hinata hums in response, licking deeper as Kageyama writhes, stomach bunching up as she begins to slide in fingers along her tongue.
Freezing, she looks down in confusion as she feels soft rubber pushing at her entrance. Shooting Kageyama a wink, Hinata begins to push in the bullet, switching it on and moving up to continue sucking on her clit. The moan that bursts out of her chest is sudden and unbidden, forced out by the vibrations and spurred on by Hinata’s tongue.
She cums with a shout, breath entirely leaving her as her entire body seized up as her nerves fired off in a frenzy.
“You taste good,” Hinata mumbles, looking up from where her mouth is still inches from her cunt. Kageyama almost kicks her. Debating between begging for her mouth back or not when Hinata pulls out the pullet and replaces it with her fingers. “Really good ‘Yama.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What should I call you then? I thought you liked ‘Yama. The other girls all call you it,” she says with a pout.
“What do you think?” she tries to say without too much of a waver as her fingers begin to scissor inside of her.
“Ooh,” Hinata says, grinning, “I know!” She pulls her fingers then, plopping them in her mouth and sucking.“Ok. That should be enough.”
Kageyama cringes, ready to chastise when she moves off to peel off the rest of her clothes. Her attention is stolen away once she tugs off her pants.
“Do you like?” Hinata asks, showcasing the harness as she reaches for the larger dildo from earlier.
“You came to the bar…wearing this?” Kageyama asks to distract herself from how Hinata’s lips were still shiny and from what Kageyama reasoned was going to happen next.
Hinata at least has the wherewithal to look guilty as she snaps open the ring in front. “I never thought you were an option!” she protests. “I didn’t even think you liked girls. Let alone me!”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Kageyama says, unable to stop picturing other girls Hinata had danced with that night and that if she hadn’t had to bring Kageyama home, she would probably have been with them instead.
“Because you liked Matsuoka,” Hinata says with a pout, “who was all quiet and smart.”
Kageyama’s shocked that she even remembers what she’d said all those years ago. “And you never said who you had a crush on.”
“Yeah, I wonder why,” Hinata says dejectedly.
“Oh,” Kageyama blinks quickly. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Hinata laughs. “But boy was I wrong huh?” She gestures to the rest of the room. Kageyama can’t even bother to be embarrassed, still stuck on that part that is Hinata apparently liking her for all these years. “I can’t believe I thought I was annoying you when this whole time you were obsessed with me like some stalker!”
Kageyama scowls, hooking her good leg around the back of Hinata’s thigh and tugging her forward, smirking when Hinata yelps.
“Now are you going to keep running your mouth like an idiot or are you going to fuck me?”
Hinata looks up sharply, eyes focused in that same way Kageyama was previously convinced only applied to volleyball. It freezes Kageyama in place, feeling her insides clench in anticipation as Hinata wrapped a hand around the bobbing dildo and inched closer. The toy was one of the larger ones Kageyama had ever bought, an investment she’d made while a bit more tired and crankier than usual, having missed her bus earlier that day she’d felt reckless and impulsive. And now Hinata was nudging it at her opening while she held her breath.
A finger at her jaw and chin forces her gaze back to Hinata as the head breaches and she scoots forward, pressing her hips closer to hers as Kageyama breathes faster.
“Too big,” Kageyama says before she can process, squeezing Hinata’s forearm in warning.
“You’ve got it,” Hinata encourages. “Are you really about to tell me there’s something you can’t handle, hm? You were even stretched!” As more of the toy sinks in, Kageyama loses the capability to respond that it wasn’t pain or her ability that worried her but that she was keeping a very tight grasp on her control which was slowly slipping. Sweat continued to slide down in the valley between her breasts, watching each rise and fall of Hinata’s chest in turn. The toy fully sinks down to its final inch, and Hinata crowds in close bringing her lips to her ear, running a hand through her short hair. Kageyama holds still, barely breathing.
“Feel good,” Hinata whispers, “Tobio?”
Kageyama wraps strong arms around her shoulders, burying her head as far down as she could before panting through her orgasm as her leg settled around her hips. She tries rutting forward but is locked by the humiliation that sinks her down into a trembling mess, unable to move her muscles that continue to convulse while lying beneath Hinata.
“Tobio?” Hinata asks. “Was that—”
“Don’t call me that,” she says, wrestling her voice into human speech.
“What? Tobio?” Hinata hums, finally moving as she begins to pull back. “So I shouldn’t say ‘Tobio did you just cum from me bottoming out’?”
“S-shut up.”
“So, no ‘Tobio you really like being filled’?” Hinata stops just as the head of the toy is about to slip out, grabbing fistfuls of her thighs before slamming herself back in. “Or ‘Tobio, are you attracted to the sound of my voice’? Or ‘Tobio, are you still sensitive from cumming from just being penetrated’?”
“Hinata,” she complains.
“That’s not correct Tobio,” Hinata rebuttals, beginning to work up a faster pace as Kageyama continues to shake in her arms. “Say it right.”
Kageyama opens her eyes to catch sight of that unflinching gaze now tracing her every move, watching for ever breath, every twitch as Hinata fucked her through the over-sensitivity.
“Shoyo,” she pleads. “Please.”
Hinata groans. “You’re never this nice. It’s weird. Do you really like being fucked that much? Or is it that you really love big toys? Or that it’s me?”
“Stop talking,” she hisses, cringing at the slapping noise their bodies make as they press together, the sound of her headboard no doubt chipping away at the orange wallpaper behind it.
“Or is that you’re super excited for me to cum inside you?” Hinata inquires. “It must be that right? Why else did you buy this?”
In a bid to silence both of them, Kageyama brings her mouth to hers, hoping Hinata doesn’t quite catch the higher-pitched cry.
“Have you ever used it before?” Hinata asks when they part, clearly more grounded than she was as Kageyama feels a thought disappear with each time Hinata slams in. “Have you used it while thinking about me being the one to pump this inside of you?”
“You’re so dumb,” Kageyama growls.
“Should I put on a condom then? Is this even a safe time for you?”
Instinctively, Kageyama’s limbs tighten around her, “Shoyo. Stop asking questions.”
“Or was I right the first time? Would you rather I fill you up? The league won’t be happy about it but I don’t mind getting you pregnant.”
Kageyama whines behind the back of her hand, feeling her orgasm build. But Hinata’s intake of breath, lets her know that her focused gaze had not missed it, as she wrenches her hand away.
“What is it, Tobio? You can tell me,” Hinata says much too calmly. “Do you want me to breed you?”
Kageyama loosens her grip around her shoulders to grab a handful of her hair. “You better.”
Hinata continues looking at her, watching as Kageyama falls back into the bed with a punched-out moan. She misses when Hinata clicks down on the button, starting up a vibration that has Kageyama trying to reach back for Hinata to ground her. She doesn’t even realize she’s got her arm back around her shoulder because of Hinata lying down on her; instead, she is caught up by Hinata pressing the second button. Instantly, warmed liquid shoots inside her, cramming into an already tight squeeze from deep inside Hinata’s is pressed.
Kageyama’s release finds her moments later, swept away in the short thrusts Hinata keeps at, the sloshing sound of the toy pushing against the liquid that’s already inside as if the other woman was trying to fuck it deeper.
With a final thrust and a whine from Kageyama, Hinata settles.
“Damn,” she sighs. “You got more of those packs left right?” Hinata looks over her shoulder, starting to move backward, Kageyama feels a dollop of the cum slide out of her.
Kageyama pulls her back. “Wait, give me a second.”
“Aren’t you a professional athlete Tobio?” she asks, extending every syllable in her name. “I’m starting to think this gives me a point over you.”
“No, just give me a second you brute.”
“Or do you just not like being empty?” Hinata asks as if genuinely curious, closing the distance between them. Kageyama shoves away the face that drops close to hers.
“I will kick you out.”
“You won’t,” Hinata teases. “Because you like me!”
“Not true.”
“Tobio,” Hinata whines. “Say you like me.”
“No.”
“So you won’t go out on a date with me either? Should I go back to the club? Since I’m not wanted here…”
“Stop jumping to conclusions dumbass,” Kageyama says. “I never said any of that.”
“So you’ll go on a date with me?” Hinata asks, perking up and jostling the toy still inside of her.
“Yes, but only if you stop moving,” Kageyama retorts.
“Fine,” she says dejectedly as if Kageyama had just asked her to stop breathing. “One last question though, did I measure up to her?”
Kageyama frowns, feeling herself turn scarlet as Hinata holds up the body pillow with her face on it. “I’ve changed my mind. I want you to leave. Bye, Shoyo.”
Hinata laughs so hard Kageyama is convinced that she’ll start crying.
Suffice it to say the sports magazine that arrives at Kageyama’s apartment a few weeks later is one that includes her as well, front page a blurry image showcasing what appears to be the two elite players of the volleyball world holding hands and stepping into a crowded restaurant together.