Oikawa had agreed.

 

He'd agreed because he knew potential when he saw it, and wondered how quickly they could hone carbon into diamond. He knew, even if the others were sceptical, that playing it safe would never get them ahead.

 

What he hadn't known, however, or predicted, were the effects of bringing the bouncy, bubbly, bright-eyed boy into practice. Neither had Oikawa ever seen the magic of just one person, melting away the frosty exteriors of his cold and aloof teammates, just by walking into the gym or the club room.

 

'Maki-san!!! Please practice with me!!'

 

And Maki's stern face would crack into a smile. A wise crack. Then agree.

 

They all would agree. Oikawa couldn't recall a time someone had said 'no' to the redhead.

 

Somehow, someway, someone so incongruous to the rest of Seijoh, slotted in perfectly.

 

That dazzling smile. Excited voice. Euphoric energy. Constellation eyes.

 

Every practice, Hinata oozed gratitude and glee at being there, and like infectious laughter it spread, making everyone feel that way too.

 

'Hey Hinata. Leave some sets for me, will ya?'

 

'Sorry Matsu-san!!'

 

Perhaps in the beginning they'd said 'no' to him. Surely. Surely they were assholes at first, but quite quickly, each and every one of them had been charmed.

 

And Oikawa was no exception.

 

Oikawa, too, could not stop looking at Hinata, watching him, as if a flamboyant multi-coloured parrot had landed amongst black vultures. Oikawa had never met anyone like the shorty, and compared to the other first-years (Kunimi and Kindaichi) Hinata's popularity soared with top marks across the board.

 

'Hinata-kun,' Oikawa smiled, 'how are we feeling today?'

 

Ah.

 

Yes.

 

Well.

 

Out of everyone at Seijoh, it looked like there was someone Hinata was charmed by.

 

'G-good Oi-Oikawa-san, how about you???' Hinata's cheeks flushed red and he interlocked his fingers, pulsing his palms out.

 

'I'm good now that my favourite spiker is here.'

 

'Stop it Shittykawa.'

 

'Stop what?!?!?!?'

 

'Hinata looks like he's about to explode. And a captain shouldn't have favourites,' Iwaizumi glared.

 

'Hmph,' Oikawa turned away from Iwa -

 

And gave Hinata a cheeky wink.

 

Hinata indeed looked as if he'd stopped breathing, soon to turn blue, on the brink of collapse.

 

It was there, too, in those golden galactic eyes. The way Hinata looked back at him - no - just the way Hinata looked at him, whenever their eyes met, whenever Oikawa caught him looking -

 

Why did it make Oikawa feel like he was made of liquid gold? Why did it send a thrill to his very core and make his heart swell with pride?

 

The first time they'd touched was when Hinata had ran and hid behind Oikawa, after accidentally hitting the ball right at the back of Matsu's head. Matsukawa had chased Hinata, feigning anger, and Hinata's laughter had sparkled through the gym as he dodged and ducked, the fastest one there, until he ran and hid behind Oikawa.

 

Small hands clutched at the fabric of Oikawa's t-shirt by his waist. And Oikawa had joined in, posing like a star quoting Lord of the Rings at Matsu ('You shall not pass!!!!'). This sent Oikawa and Hinata into a tizzy and they fell about laughing.

 

More laughter. More goofiness. More fun and games.

 

Selfies with their tongues sticking out. Tag around the net. Oikawa got Hinata to stand on the setter's feet, facing out, holding the spiker's arms up, and walked around with Hinata standing on him, Oikawa walking on his heels to not bend their legs because of the height difference. How small and dainty Hinata's arms had felt in Oikawa's hands, how slender those wrists.

 

That was perhaps the first time they'd had skin-on-skin contact.

 

Oikawa would sometimes hoist Hinata up over his shoulder, pretending to kidnap him, or try and zip Hinata up with him in his white Aoba Johsai jacket with Hinata's head poking through. Hinata would protest and his cheeks inflame like a fire truck, but Oikawa aptly noted, that the shorty wouldn't put up much of a fight.

 

Often, if Hinata was being exceptional - zooming round the court, hitting an impossible set, jumping (even if failing) to block, Oikawa would ruffle Hinata's hair and say -

 

'My little sunshine is working so hard today. Good job, Hinata-kun!'

 

Something else would transpire. Something silent without a name. Something exchanged between them.

 

Oikawa's mere words had supersonic powers. Like roots wrapping around Hinata's feet, binding them, sprouting cherry blossoms in the spiker's heart. Like words could fill someone's body with luminescence. Radiate. Glow. Like Hinata drank it down, drank it all, every time, like it was never enough. Like he needed it, wanted it, like his life depended on it, verged on the tip of Oikawa's tongue.

 

And Oikawa's greedy twisted black and red heart...

 

Hinata's glossy watery eyes. Those bashful, shy, puppy-dog eyes. Those adoring, admiring, worshipful eyes...

 

Exactly who felt like it was never enough?

 

Who couldn't stop looking? Who couldn't stop wanting? Who couldn't stop feasting?

 

Sometimes the setter would pinch Hinata's cheeks. Once, Hinata's upper lip grazed against the underside of Oikawa's thumb. The captain had felt it like someone running a feather down his thigh.

 

Sometimes Oikawa would squidge Hinata's arms, not like there was much to squidge, but he kept squeezing anyway. Hinata started squidging Oikawa's arms too and he'd try and reach Oikawa's cheeks to pinch them but the setter was too tall, and Oikawa relished in Hinata's defeat. Not to mention how unbelievably cute it looked with Hinata trying to tiptoe and reach up.

 

Often, Oikawa's eyes would be drawn to that orange beacon, he would look even when he wasn't setting for the shorty, even if the setter wasn't playing. Coiled up on the side, Oikawa would watch with large unblinking eyes, Hinata flit around like a bird chirping to other members of the team, bringing sweet birdsong and warm sunlight, or spreading his wings, jumping, taking flight.

 

Initially, Hinata would catch the upperclassman looking, and faithfully blush and shrink from that piercing, unreadable gaze. But Oikawa would always smile or stick his tongue out and wink at the same time, or scrunch up his nose and stick his tongue out, or make a funny face, immediately putting Hinata at ease. Hinata would then start copying Oikawa - also sticking his tongue out or pulling a funny face and giggling.

 

But.

 

After a while, these instances were peppered with times Oikawa would turn and catch Hinata looking. And it wasn't just admiration there, neither was there any timidity. This was a different side to Hinata, a side that only came out in practice. In those moments, Oikawa felt something in all the places he shouldn't. He didn't look away. He didn't smile either. He looked back across the court, could feel his pulse up, down, around, everywhere in his body.

 

Hinata would always be the one to look away first, with sudden crippling embarrassment as if he hadn't realised how long he'd been staring for, and a pained expression would follow, one of shame.

 

And yet.

 

Oikawa couldn't stop looking.

 

And it seemed neither could Hinata.

 

If Oikawa played with Hinata's hair more, grabbed the spiker more, tickled him and pinched him and hugged him and kept him locked in the setter's Aoba Johsai jacket for longer, the upperclassman hadn't noticed.

 

One day, the both of them were the last to leave in the club room after practice, and as they were doing up their jackets, right after Yahaba had left, Hinata asked out of nowhere -

 

'Oikawa-san. What are you thinking. When you watch me at practice?'

 

Oikawa was met with a curious but candid, open expression, as pure and unfiltered as the sky.

 

It struck the setter yet again, how kawaii Hinata looked in his Seijoh jacket. People told Oikawa he should model for the team but Oikawa was willing to bet that if Hinata were the poster boy he would actually garner more attention.

 

'Oh lots of things,' Oikawa managed to sound casual, averted his gaze and started rummaging through his bag for nothing in particular.

 

'Like?'

 

Like lots of things I shouldn't.

 

It was getting harder to look at Hinata and maintain an expressionless face, or to not dissolve into touching and playing with him. Innocently, of course.

 

It was fine. Oikawa would settle for his usual meal for his ego, for his bottomless heart.

 

'Like how wonderfully my little sunshine has been improving.'

 

A beautiful blush. Yes. That was guaranteed. A slight pout. That tell-tell face that Oikawa enjoyed looking at so much, today, surprisingly, it came with an air -

 

Of disappointment.

 

Why?

 

Oikawa could sense how much Hinata respected him, how much the little terror looked up to him -

 

'I would like to ask you the same thing. What is chibi-chan thinking when he watches me at practice?'

 

Hinata's head transformed into a full-blown red balloon fit to burst. Scandal was written on the underclassman's face like nothing Oikawa had seen previously. The captain's ears were itching so badly it was almost painful.

 

'It doesn't matter what I think Oikawa-san because I'm just a first-year, and nowhere near as good as volleyball as you, so what I think isn't important.'

 

'It's important to me.'

 

Hinata's eyes shone, hope-filled, as he stared up at the setter.

 

'It's also important because your opinion is still your opinion. And it's still valid. And you're part of the team. And I take the opinions of my teammates very seriously. So if anyone makes you feel like you're not important, or your opinion doesn't matter, then they'll have to answer to me. OK?'

 

Hinata pounced on his captain with a hug, which wasn't unusual for them with the amount of playfulness and skinship going on, except -

 

Oikawa felt like a peace lily and a kernel of popcorn at the exact same time. A peace lily that had been kept in the shadows and now regular bouts of sunlight had made it healthy once again. A kernel of popcorn under almost enough pressure to transform...

 

Oikawa ran his fingers through orange wisps, hugged the spiker back. He thumbed the shell of Hinata's ear. Tried to not feel anything at all.

 

Oikawa kept looking. He kept looking and looking and looking like it was bread and water. He kept eating. And he kept pouring. Pouring and pouring and pouring praise, not to the point of it being excessive, but to the point he saw the bud bloom with confidence and knew that in the future, Hinata would need the praise from others less, because he would contain ownership of his own value and potential within himself.

 

'What's going on?' Iwa asked one day when the two of them were by a vending machine at break.

 

'With what?' Oikawa kept his face as blank as a sheet of paper.

 

'You and the little redhead.'

 

Oikawa didn't react.

 

'You know he likes you. More than as just a captain. You're not dumb.'

 

'Nothing.' Oikawa's gaze bored into Iwaizumi's. 'Nothing is happening and nothing will happen. We don't need team complications.'

 

Iwa gave an affirmative nod.

 

'It's just a crush. And doesn't everyone have a crush on me anyway?'

 

'You're a shit bag.' Iwaizumi took a swig from his water bottle. 'I know you're super comfortable with him and the two of you run around like Batman and Robin but try and be less familiar. You've collected enough broken hearts.'

 

On days out with the team, if they ever met on the weekend, or it was someone's birthday, or they just hung out, Hinata would always be spoilt rotten. He never paid for anything, never had to; there was most likely a second or third-year ready to pay for that ice cream or ramen or ticket. And the lucky bastard would be rewarded with the most beautiful smile from the most beautiful person that had ever graced Aoba Johsai's volleyball club. It was an unspoken agreement that Hinata must be protected at all costs. Out of bounds for anyone on the team.

 

Not that anyone on the team seemed to let their mind wander into forbidden territory.

 

Not that anyone on the team looked and watched and observed and followed every minute movement, every turn, every spike, every tilt of the read, pullback of those lips, daily mood or who Hinata was talking to.

 

Not that anyone would think of Hinata out of practice, in bed, alone, at night - of those mesmerising amber eyes, those pretty fairy features - that personality so pure and wholesome, so upfront and transparent, so excitable and delightful - it made everyone else feel like worn, scratchy, dull rags.

 

Not that anyone on the team noticed, the fairy's eyes - seeking, searching, longing.

 

It had gotten a bit much.

 

Hinata and Oikawa were the most tactile with each other compared to everyone else on the team and obviously so. Even if other team members joked around with Hinata, Hinata never really ran to them or hugged them or clung to them, the way he so freely did with Oikawa. And no one else grabbed Hinata's hands, and spun him round like a ballet dancer, or grabbed his waist and hoisted him up and then down gently on the floor through tall open legs - no one else wrapped their arms around Hinata and wouldn't let him go -

 

Save Oikawa.

 

'Stop harassing the first-year,' Iwa barked.

 

'What? I'm not doing anything,' Oikawa was standing behind Hinata, smushing his cheeks round and round in circles with his fingertips, after having hugged the spiker from behind for a good full minute, then pretend-massaged Hinata's shoulders, neck, ears.

 

And Hinata, like a loyal puppy, had stayed still, with his eyes closed, blissed out, enjoying the sensation of touch. 

 

And Oikawa's fingers listened, heard the silent cooing and purring, with every press and stroke.

 

'Besides. We're off duty. Outside practice. It's five to three. Practice doesn't start for another five minutes.' The setter continued his defense. 'So it doesn't count if it's not in practice.' Oikawa dropped his voice. 'Isn't that right, chibi-chan?'

 

The upperclassman felt Hinata tense, knew that his words had been licked up. He didn't need to see the underclassman's face to know the colour it would show; Oikawa practically had it by memory now.

 

It was unfortunate how much Oikawa had fallen to need it. Those moments before practice, in-between practice, after practice, where Oikawa would just so happen to find himself next to Hinata, pulled there to the spot by a force greater than logic, to play, mess around, to talk, to say:

 

'How is my little sunshine doing today?'

 

'You'll work hard for your captain, won't you?'

 

'My, someone's outdone themselves.'

 

'You just keep getting better and better.'

 

And Oikawa would watch, transfixed, his words being swallowed whole. He'd watch the stars shoot across those irises, burning bright, glowing in the dark. The poppies blooming on those cheeks, exposing black seeds of pollen. Red petals begged to be plucked, even if they were sedatives, and large amounts, dangerous. Too late. Oikawa indulged in these pills that made him feel like a god. His words were like that of a king; he could build a temple or destroy a city. Those gooey-doe-y hungry shy honey eyes...

 

Once, Oikawa had actually massaged Hinata's back muscles and heard the redhead make a sound that went straight to the setter's cock. The sound had now implanted itself in a loop in his neural pathways and Oikawa had gone to war with himself ever since as to whether he should or shouldn't illict that sound from the spiker yet again. He would never tell a soul, but after that there was one time, Oikawa had playfully stroked Hinata's neck and earlobe and said -

 

'You're so soft Hinata-kun I can't help touching you.'

 

The soft moan that involuntarily left Hinata's lips had to have been better than whatever ecstacy felt like. And it can't have been one way: Oikawa pretended not to notice the way Hinata's hands covered his crotch before the spiker excused himself before disappearing to the bathroom for ten minutes.

 

The downside of having a crooked heart: the insatiable need to play with fire.

 

Amongst the ever-cascading enlarging snowball, there were glimpses of sparks, of burning fire. These glimpses had a way of making Oikawa's heart thunder in his body. The grip of Hinata's fist pulling on the setter's t-shirt, the feel of Hinata's nose against the underside of the captain's wrist, inhaling deeply (more than once), the underclassman helping himself to Oikawa's jacket (with a look so girly, so flirty, so devilish it was a miracle Oikawa didn't break restraint then and there), Hinata jumping on Oikawa's back (and front), or sometimes, that chain across the court, when Oikawa would look and fall into a gaze that had perhaps been waiting for his own, and those times, those bronze eyes would not look away or shrink or fluster but instead -

 

Hold.

 

And stay.

 

Brazen. Bold. Beautiful.

 

Beckoning.

 

Challenging.

 

Daring.

 

By each passing day it was with chains and barbed wire, spikes and broken glass, that Oikawa did not cross that threshold no matter how much the ache in his chest.

 

Then one day, out of the blue -

 

'Oikawa-senpai. Can you stay, a little later, today, for spiking and serves?'

 

'You shouldn't wear yourself out chibi-chan -'

 

'Please? Just a bit. Please?'

 

'… I suppose a little more practice never hurt anyone.'

 

'Yay!!'

 

Strange feelings rolled around Oikawa's stomach as the end of practice neared - he felt like Aladdin, like he was on the cusp of entering a hidden cave with jewels and treasures beyond his wildest dreams - perhaps his deepest, darkest desires would come true - or perhaps it would bury him alive in sand.

 

Oikawa set and gave feedback on Hinata's spikes, and gave pointers for Hinata's serves. Little by little, the rest of the team trickled out, until it was getting dark outside, and Hinata and Oikawa were the only two left inside the gym.

 

An extra hour after practice, the two of them were panting by the same side of the net, Oikawa having tossed to Hinata however many times.

 

'You're - improving - so much,' Oikawa panted, watching Hinata who was leaning on his knees.

 

When Hinata had caught his breath a little, he stood straight and turned to the captain, cheeks flushed from all the exercise.

 

'I'm only - improving - because of you.'

 

Oikawa wiped sweat away from his chin and shook his head. 'No. The effort, hard work, eagerness - that's all you. That's your choice.'

 

Hinata's chest heaved as he and Oikawa watched each other, breathing slowly normalising.

 

'You know... I spent three years with no one to play with. Not properly anyway. I dragged my friends into it, but none of them were that interested. I can't help feeling like I lost all that time. And the match I played in middle school, that guy, the King of the Court, he even asked me - what have I been doing the last three years?'

 

Oikawa knew this story. It had moved him the first time he'd heard it. And hearing it today had the same effect.

 

'But then. I came here. And suddenly I was surrounded by people as passionate about volleyball as I am. Suddenly I have a team. People supporting me, guiding me, teaching me. Amazing, serious, talented players. And of all of them - you.' Hinata's cheeks deepened in colour. 'I've never seen anyone in person as talented as you, as good at volleyball as you are, Oikawa-san. I've never met anyone as hard working or dedicated. You're an inspiration to me, to everyone on the team. And you're always so encouraging and kind to me - you give me hope. That the time I lost I will take back. Every day, I am grateful. To be here. To be here with you.'

 

Oikawa's heart was pounding so loudly he could barely hear his own breathing. His feet, hands, lips were itching to move, to make contact, to break through chains and glass. If this was Aladdin's cave then here was the lamp.

 

The captain closed his eyes briefly. He would block out the song of Sirens. He would resist the smell of honey. Even if he were a sailor. Even if he were a bee. He would not look, and be turned into a pillar of salt.

 

'I'm,' the setter opened his eyes, 'grateful you're here too. I'm grateful to have someone as passionate - if not more - than I am. Not just your determination, chibi-chan, but the way your presence lights up the whole team, the whole room - everyone plays better because of you, because your energy and excitement is contagious. You bring the sun wherever you go. I've never felt so much warmth,' Oikawa gave a small smile. 'You're thanking me but I should be the one thanking you. Everything about you is so unique and different to anyone else - not just on the team, but in school. I've never met anyone as transparent. I give you hope for volleyball - you give me hope that people like you exist in this world. So I'm the one grateful to have you.'

​

Wait.

​

What?!!

 

Shit.

 

Hinata's eyes were like that of a panther poised to pounce.

 

Fuck. What had Oikawa just said? Out loud? Was there a way to retract words from the air like the way you could recall an email? He was meant to be talking about volleyball, only volleyball, not mirroring vulnerability, for fuck sake.

 

Oikawa dropped his gaze, feeling too exposed. His eyes fell on one of his shoelaces that had conveniently become loose. Aha.

 

'Right then, chibi-chan,' Oikawa crouched down, eyes fixed on his shoes, his voice light and playful, trying to alleviate the giant tugging, pulling magnets in the atmosphere, 'I think we should -'

 

A sudden dash of steps.

 

Pincer-like squeezes on both Oikawa's cheeks.

 

'I got you!!!!!' rang through the air like a triumphant bell, but with it a force too pushing, too powerful, a body having dived for him, and Oikawa was only balancing on one knee -

 

Boof!

 

They knocked into each other -

 

The setter fell backwards, arms flailing and grabbed whatever he could find -

 

'AAAAH!!'

 

The captain fell onto his back, thankfully his head was tilted up, before touching the floor, pulling the middle blocker down with him -

 

To land, chest to chest, face to face, Hinata hovering above, with the setter's arm clutching his back.

 

Oikawa's heart was like a child let loose at playtime.

 

Mere centimetres away. Eyes so compelling, so penetrating, it was impossible to look, or move, away.

 

But those small hands that were holding onto Oikawa's shoulders moved up, stroked the setter's neck, and held the upperclassman's cheeks instead, while Hinata balanced some of his weight on his elbows, squished between their bodies.

 

'There,' Hinata whispered, his breath falling on Oikawa's lips. 'Now I can touch you too.'

 

The rope was a hairline away from snapping.

 

Oikawa's lips parted -

 

As if to say something -

 

But then -

 

Hinata closed the gap.

 

Peck.

 

The smallest, cutest, most minimal and chaste kiss Oikawa's lips had ever had the good fortune to receive. 

 

Blink.

 

Hinata breathed, staring down his setter and captain with about as much regret in those determined eyes as someone scoring the winning point in a volleyball match.

 

'I'm,' Hinata stared into those pools of dark maple syrup, slid his hands back down to Oikawa’s shoulders, and started pushing away, about to get up, 'I'm sorry - mmmpphffff!!!!!!'

 

Thwap.

 

Chink.

 

Ka-dun.

 

Whip.

 

Krrrrrr.

 

Crunch.

 

The rope snapped.

 

The chains broke, fell.

 

The barbed wires snagged.

 

The broken glass, the spikes, pierced.

 

They kissed. Properly. With Oikawa’s hand laced through Hinata’s hair and pushing down, with Oikawa’s neck craning up to taste Hinata properly, as the setter’s lips moved, claiming Hinata’s first kiss. The spiker struggled to kiss back harmoniously at first - overwhelmed, uncertain, bumpy, clumsy, toothy - but then -

 

With his aptitude, he fell quickly into rhythm with the setter leading the way and suddenly -

 

They were making out on the gym floor, Oikawa’s arm around Hinata’s back locking him into place, lips moving in sync in slow, teasing, erotic kisses. Fuck. This was better than all the clips in the setter’s imagination that he had been swiping away.

 

Shit. I hit my head, Oikawa surely would have to say, when the team came for him with pitchforks and fire and swords. I hit my head I wasn’t thinking straight.

 

I was thinking gay.

 

Hahahahaha -

 

Not now.

 

Small hands caressed Oikawa’s neck, cheeks, ears - ran through the setter’s hair - with gentle, savouring disbelief. Rubbed the strands. Moaned happily against the captain’s lips. The sound was different to the other sounds Hinata had made, not that Oikawa was keeping track, of course not, but the upperclassman must’ve had some kind of aural fixation because he wanted to test how many sounds he could make the redhead make (ideally involuntarily).

 

No no no no no -

 

This had to stop. Right here, right now -

 

Hinata's tongue slipped in and Oikawa's mind went blank. His body had already reacted way beyond his control, and evidently, so had Hinata's.

 

The ginger pulled back, and pushed off, so that he was sat, upright, straddling the setter's groin area, right on top of his -

 

Both of them were hard.

 

The middle blocker was blushing like some kind of beautiful bride, shy on her wedding night, meek in inexperience.

 

They were breathing heavy now for an entirely different reason.

 

The spiker surveyed the captain, pleased to see a tinge on those usually pale cheeks, and fire in those usually cool eyes. Yet still, the upperclassman was so hard to read. Guilt suddenly came crashing down like lightning and Hinata averted his gaze -

 

'I - I hope I didn't force you to do this.' Hinata couldn't look into Oikawa's eyes, scared of what he'd find there. 'I h-hope you're not angry with me, Oikawa-san.'

 

The setter took one of Hinata's hands in his own. The spiker automatically returned his gaze. The captain's gaze was so soft it made Hinata's heart skip a beat.

 

'I don't think I'd ever be able to be angry at you.'

 

Hinata's blush increased. 'D-don't say things like that Oikawa senpai - y-you don't know - I might let you down one day, or do something terrible - we're only human -'

 

'That's true.'

 

'So if you're angry you should tell me. And if I forced you -'

 

'Can I touch you?' The setter's eyes had wandered to Hinata's clothed erection.

 

The spiker's heart pounded in his chest. Oikawa still held his hand.

 

Hinata nodded.

 

The captain released his right hand from Hinata's, and gently rubbed against the shape protruding in Hinata's shorts with his fingertips.

 

'AHHhh -!'

 

Fuck. Oikawa's dick was twitching in his shorts and he was trying so hard not to move his hips with Hinata sitting right on top of his dick -

 

'Ah haa ha -!'

 

But this had to be worth a week of pornographic material surely: Hinata with his eyes squeezed shut, straddling the setter's midriff, making these indecent sex noises just from Oikawa repeatedly pushing with his fingertips -

 

'You even sound beautiful -'

 

Had Hinata heard him? Oikawa wasn't even sure. Because at that moment, Hinata thrust himself forward, seeking more friction, more force from the setter's fingers, and as a result -

 

'AHn!'

 

Hinata's eyes snapped open. He met Oikawa's gaze. Both of them were blushing now. It was pretty obvious where this was going, and all Hinata had to do was grind some more - move and evoke that sound he had never heard his captain make, ever, until just now. That sound of pleasure that came from Hinata's movements -

 

And had nothing to do with volleyball.

 

But -

 

The spiker still felt that prickle in his conscience.

 

'Oikawa-san - I want to - I feel bad for forcing you - if you feel like you have to, because I'm your teammember, then I don't want -'

 

GRAB -

 

Squeal!

 

Hinata almost fell, almost bashed his head against the setter's forehead from the force in which the upperclassman had roughly gripped his t-shirt and yanked him down. If Hinata hadn't used his palms against the captain's chest they would've knocked each other out.

 

Lift -

 

Oikawa raised his head and pushed his lips against Hinata's, closing his eyes, with searing passion. Hinata's expression was still speechless and stunned even as the setter laid his head back on the floor and opened his eyes. Oikawa suddenly realised just how uncomfortable he was, his entire body and head lying on the gym floor, but there was no fucking way he'd be moving; it would take the ceiling to cave in, the ground to give way, an earthquake to make him leave his current position.

 

'You have no idea how well-behaved I'm trying to be right now,' the setter mumured to those eyes from heaven. 'You have no idea how well-behaved I have fought to be for weeks. I am still trying to have some self-control. You didn't force me Hinata-kun - I'm the one who kissed you. I want this too. But I shouldn't.'

 

Hinata could see the conflict in those dreamy eyes. 'Why Oikawa-san?'

 

'Why? Because I'm your captain. You're my teammate. You're a first-year. It's improper. There's a natural power imbalance here. This could jeopardise the team. Complicate things between us. The team are going to kill me when they find out -'

 

'They won't.'

 

Oikawa peered into eyes as free as the sky.

 

'They're not going to find out. And this… we're just... helping each other out! We're just... having some fun! And this is out of practice, right? We're off duty. So it doesn't count if it's not in practice. Isn't that right, Oikawa-san?' Hinata smiled and gave a cheeky wink, sticking his tongue out, copying what the setter usually did, and well -

 

'Mmmmfphnnn!!!!'

 

He wasn't ready.

 

A dam burst forth. A stampede broke through. Vesuvius had erupted and would burn everything in its wake.

 

Was this what he meant, Hinata wondered, as lips swallowed his, hands grabbed and groped and stroked indiscriminantly - hair, nape of the neck, waist, hips, butt - before manhandling Hinata down, so that Oikawa could thrust up, when he talked about self-control? rubbing his clothed erection against Hinata's body to release a second moan.

 

This was too good an opportunity to miss. Hinata was now crotch to crotch with the setter. He held onto the captain's hips and rubbed up again, watching the effect it had on his captain, that torn, desperate, pained wanting expression, that the spiker would now commit to memory - so he kept doing it again and again and again -

 

'H-Hinata -!'

 

Ah fuck. Hinata was trying not to come. Hearing the captain say his name like that made Hinata want to hear it a thousand more times in a thousand more ways - it made him want to break every rule in the book, use any part of his body, use anything, to get the setter to stutter his name again.

 

He stared transfixed at Oikawa lying in a heap of an aroused state because of him, under him -

 

Hinata thrust his body against Oikawa's again. This time, their clothed erections grinded perfectly against each other and both let out a euphoric groan. Cheeks singed pink. Hearts beating. They stared into each other's eyes with equal levels of lust and care.

​

'Our clothes are in the way,' Oikawa breathed and blinked slow, in a horny haze. 'I want to feel you bare. Properly.'

 

'Anything you want, captain.'

 

Oikawa groaned. 'Don't say things like that.'

 

'Why?'

 

'Mmmnn!!'

 

Hinata was rubbing the tent of his dick against the setter's, still clothed but the friction on the underside against the frenulum was so good -

 

'Ask me again,' Hinata shimmied down, so that he was off Oikawa's crotch, hooked his finger's in setter's shorts and briefs, the setter lifted his hips, with Hinata sat on him, for ease, 'what I think when I look at you in practice,' and lifted the material over and down the upperclassman's erection, making sure the elastic sat below Oikawa's balls, as the setter lowered himself back onto the floor.

 

Hinata peered in fascination at Oikawa's cock and balls - the veins protruding on the setter's dick, the pink red raw head leaking small drops of clear fluid, the bunched up foreskin near the top, the dark pubic shrubbery of hair at the base of the erection that pointed up, and the hair on the captain's scrotum.

 

Hinata placed his hand on the shaft of Oikawa's erection: it was so warm and thick and hard - yet soft because of the tender skin.

 

The middle blocker was straddled over the setter's knees; more easily now, he pulled out his own dick and pulled down the layers below his balls and butt cheeks. Oikawa was looking and Hinata's face was hotter and redder than a chilli. The ginger shuffled back up until his balls touched the setter's, sitting on the setter's thighs. Hinata's knees had hurt when he'd shuffled up, kneeling on the gym floor - his inner and outer thighs were starting to hurt too - but he could, and would, tolerate it, for a piece of a dream.

 

Oikawa reached out and stroked the foreskin of Hinata's dick with a single finger. The spiker sucked back on his teeth, instinctually thrusting his hips forward against the setter's touch.

 

'What do you think,' Oikawa pulled down on Hinata's entire dick with his fingers, like a lever, and scooped up his own cock with his thumb, pressing their undersides together, 'when you watch me during practice?'

 

Hinata's cock was slightly shorter, and less thick, but the middle blocker intuitively moved higher so that their dickheads were at the same height -

 

Oikawa stroked and rubbed simultaneously with his large hand, their cocks kissing each other.

 

'AHN -!'

 

Both exclaimed in poetic unison.

 

They were blushing, staring at each other in a dreamy haze, bodies aching from the cold hard gym floor.

 

Oikawa continued to stroke, gently, edging them.

 

'I think you're - ah! - you're so - handsome Oikawa-san - nnhhhn -'

 

'Go on -'

 

'And you're - you're s-so k-kind and caring towards - your team -' Hinata groaned and gripped the t-shirt of the setter under him, as his dick rubbed against Oikawa's cock and rounded hand. 'You're the b-best captain - the best setter - the b-best p-person on the team - AAHhhaa Oi-Oikaaa-san -'

 

A breathless chuckle reached Hinata's ears.

 

'You really are - huff - adorable - nnhhhh - keep going -'

 

'You're - you're like - a model - like a celebrity - the way you walk - your voice - your movements - so precise -' Hinata started bucking his hips, Oikawa loosened his grip, so the ginger kept rubbing the undersides of their cocks together -

 

'Fffuck Hinata -'

 

A shaky laugh breathless came out of the middle blocker, who was utilising his light weight and nimble frame to lean on his hands and thrust his hips -

 

'You have no idea how sexy you look right now. Don't stop -'

 

Hinata felt super embarrassed and also super chuffed from the compliment; he was sure his skin was an entirely different colour by now.

 

'I think - I'm so lucky - huff - to know you - to get to - be around you - to be able - to touch you -'

 

Oikawa moaned and his hand clamped tighter on their dicks and moved faster. By sheer force of Hinata gripping onto Oikawa's t-shirt, was he able to not fall back when he stopped rubbing his dick against the setter's and sat back down instead -

 

Now Oikawa had taken the lead, and his hand was big enough to encase both their cocks and stroke them at the same time -

 

'W-watch you - and I love - you watching me too -'

 

Oikawa's heart had skipped a beat for a moment there. He'd thought he'd heard and I love you but no, there was a full sentence there, and anyway his heart was only racing because he was getting off on this so much -

 

'When I watch you I feel like you're the missing piece of the puzzle for our team,' Oikawa puffed, hand still moving, even if his wrist was starting to hurt. 'You're like the teammate I always wanted - the little kohai I wanted to train - and mould into a great asset for our team -' the setter inhaled, 'your passion is to be envied yet no one envies you - no one can fault you - you're a joy to be around - I can't imagine the team without you -'

 

More uninhibited sighs from both of them. Hinata took one of his small hands and caressed the setter's balls -

 

'Mmmm that feels so nice -'

 

'Your body feels so nice Oikawa-san -'

 

Fuck this was too much. Oikawa was fightning not to come. If this was going to be the first and last time, if this was just them letting off steam, and Hinata would return to being out of bounds (as he bloody well should be), then the setter would fight to make this last as long as possible.

 

Their dicks rubbing together had to be the most erotic thing Oikawa had ever done. But Oikawa's back was hurting, his wrist was hurting, his neck, and surely Hinata too, his bare knees, on the cold floor, both of them in this same position for ages, unmoving, was not comfortable -

 

GRAB!

 

'AH!'

 

Before Hinata had even realised what had happened, he had been carefully rolled onto his back, his legs open and naturally had wrapped around the upperclassman's waist, his hands around the upperclassman's neck. Now the captain loomed, his forearms, knees and shins resting on the cold gym floor - arms on either side of Hinata - as if he were about to crawl, but had a cute koala clinging to him.

 

Oikawa's dick was erect and cold, having lost human contact but he relished in the feel of Hinata hanging onto him, those hands around his neck - even more intimacy.

 

'Let go of my waist for a moment.'

 

Hinata carefully dropped his legs to the ground so that they were open, the setter in between them. Oikawa kissed Hinata and the spiker moaned, Hinata gripping the captain's hair in fervour. Oikawa broke the kiss so he could align their dicks, one on top of the other, and rub -

 

'Ughhn -' they both breathed, as Oikawa started to move, sliding his cock against Shoyo's -

 

Because the setter was bigger and taller than Hinata, to get their cocks at the same level meant that Hinata's face could not be level with the setter's; Hinata's hands tried to hold onto Oikawa's neck but his face was more level with the setter's collarbone, and every time Oikawa thrust, he felt the middle blocker's hot breath against his neck, as the captain moved up and down.

 

Really, this position, with Oikawa on top of Hinata, rubbing their genitals together -

 

Almost felt like sex.

 

Almost.

 

But Oikawa's stupid t-shirt kept getting in the way - he stopped briefly just to free his arms from the sleeves but leave it looped around his neck. He adjusted it so that most of the t-shirt fell on his back. This interlude did not break the momentum: the setter got a kick from Hinata shyly admiring his body, but the fact that the redhead kept trying to hump up for a sliver of contact put the setter back on course in less than a second.

 

'That time - you asked me - in the club room - what I thought - when I watch you -' Oikawa huffed, as he balanced his body weight and thurst his hips, 'what I really think - every time - is that - you're beautiful -'

 

Hinata made a sound almost like a cat meowing but the setter was so close now he couldn't stop -

 

'Your jumps - your movements - the way - you talk to everyone -'

 

'Oikawa-san you're the best person - I've ever seen play volleyball - you're just - the best person -'

​

'I'm -'

​

'Ah ah -

 

'UHHNNNNN!!!'

 

They came together.

 

Cum splashing and spilling down Hinata's side, on his t-shirt, onto the gym floor. Oikawa's cum leaking down into, onto Hinata's, their cum mixing together.

 

Hinata was whimpering, both of them panting, sweating.

 

Oikawa felt high on life. Finally. After months of fantasising, of looking, wondering, exchanging secret glances, of pent-up longing, of sexual tension -

​

Finally, their selves expressed.

 

'Kiss,' Hinata breathed.

 

The setter crawled a tiny step back, Hinata raised his head, and their mouths met. Did kissing usually feel this good? Oikawa couldn't help but wonder. Not only that, but who learnt to kiss this well this quickly?!

 

'Am I,' Oikawa asked after, 'your first kiss?'

 

Hinata looked embarassed but nodded.

 

'Have you done something like this before?'

 

Still embarassed, Hinata shook his head. 'No Oikawa senpai you're the first person I've ever done anything like this with.'

 

The door to the birdcage closed. Oikawa locked it and threw away the key. Some kind of crazed possessive spirit overtook the setter; this chirpy orange beauty - who looked like he had wings when he jumped - no one else was going to be allowed to touch him.

 

No one.

 

'How do you feel? What do you think?' Oikawa asked, surveying the pretty face beneath him.

 

'Oikawa-san… can we go… one more time?'

 

The setter blinked.

 

'Just one more time - I promise I won't tell the team - I won't tell anyone! And-and it's not serious remember we're just messing around, there's no power imbalance and it doesn't count because - mmfphph!!'

 

For the second time that evening Hinata's words were stolen by Oikawa's lips.

 

They touched each other - hands and rubbing only - and came - three more times. 

 

They're gonna kill me. They'll use my head as a volleyball for sure.

 

But it's OK. It'll never happen again.

 

This is a one-off.

 

Oikawa told himself, as he stared, mesmerised at Hinata's blushing red skin, covered in his own cum.

​

Oikawa was wrong.