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SR
Suna 100%, whole-heartedly blames Atsumu for this (and maybe Osamu, too). Because who else calls Karasuno’s previous #10 by his first name more than those two do? That’s right, plenty of people. But Atsumu and Osamu are the two that Suna are constantly surrounded by, so of course they influence him.
If he were to count on his fingers and toes how many times he’s had to listen to Atsumu sigh dreamily about Shouyou this, and Shouyou that, he would never have enough fingers nor toes! Maybe if he counted by the hairs on his head it might work. And God forbid he hear Osamu pick up the phone at Onigiri Miya with eyes sparkly enough to make him go blind, sweet voice greeting his Shouyou the biggest contrast to how he greets anyone else (including Suna).
Back to the point, he hears Shouyou’s name enough that that’s become the name he associates him with, not his surname Hinata.
Which is fine when he’s in private, scolding Atsumu for simping over a photo of Hinata with puppies. But not very fine when he’s in public and happens to find said ginger in the same coffee shop as him. Especially not when he lifts a finger to point at the man, eyes wide as he instinctively calls out,
“Shouyou?”
The way Hinata turns around seems to be playing in slow-motion in his own head, which would also explain the falling cherry blossoms and glitter. Is this how the Miya twins always saw him? If that’s the case, then he takes back what he said about Atsumu exaggeratingly hyping Hinata up.
Almost completely buried underneath his own poofy scarf, the ginger blinks up at Suna, tilting his head to the side.
“I’m sorry, did you call for me?”
It’s when Hinata’s completely turned around that Suna gets to take in all his features, and God, is he pretty. Warm orange curls, cheeks and nose flushed a pretty pink, soft looking lips, and long, almost golden lashes framing his eyes. He looks like an angel.
“I.. Uh..”
“An iced Americano for Suna?”
Fuck. Hurriedly, Suna turns to look at the barista then back at Hinata, the ginger’s doe eyes still glancing up at him with the patience and innocence he wishes the Miyas still had. He gapes like a fish, not necessarily knowing what to say to keep Hinata from leaving, when Hinata’s brows gently pinch together. Then slowly, but surely, his eyes light up with recognition, lips parting into a little ‘o’.
“Suna-san?! From Inarizaki?!”
To say that hearing Hinata say his name is therapeutic would be an understatement. Shit feels like a religious experience at the very least.
He hears the barista call his name once more and decides that if there’s one thing he can be better than Atsumu at, it’s successfully simping.
“Y-yeah, that’s me. Sorry, could you give me one sec to get my coffee?? Just—I wanna talk to you a bit.”
Hinata, ever the angel, instead of looking repulsed, he has a sweet smile on his face as he nods.
“Sure! I’ll wait for you over there?”
Suna looks over to where Hinata’s pointing and nods in agreement, showing a tiny smile in return before he finally goes up to get his now slightly watery Americano. It’s whatever, though. At least he got Hinata to stay.
The ginger isn’t difficult to spot, considering his bright colored hair, so with his Americano in hand, Suna makes his way over to the table. He tries to sit down all cool and calm, but his chair tells him no, and makes the loudest, most annoying screech he’s ever heard.
“Ah, fuck,” he groans, resting his forehead against the table as he listens to Hinata giggle at his dismay.
“Wow, what an entrance, Suna-san.”
“Oh, shut it, Hinata.”
“Ehhh, what happened to calling me Shouyou?”
Suna sits upright at this. Hinata’s looking at him with a smile, a bit less sweet and a bit more mischievous. He raises a brow at the taller, who was frozen still.
“Hm? You just called me Shouyou earlier, Suna-san. What’s wrong?”
“Ah, well,” Suna lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly, “I called you that on accident. Sorry if it seemed too forward. I just listen to Tsumu and Samu say it so often that it just felt more natural to call you that.”
“I don’t mind it. In fact, please call me Shouyou. It feels more familiar, right?”
Two minutes into this conversation and Suna’s already smitten. How on Earth has Atsumu survived this far without confessing at least once?
He blinks in surprise, taking in Hinata—no, Shouyou’s sweet expression, before he smiles. And unlike last time, this smile actually reaches his eyes.
“Alright, Shouyou.”
(Suna succeeds many times that day.
He gets an earful from Atsumu who failed at reporting his selfie with Hinata on Instagram, managed to get a bunch of new followers because Hinata reposted the selfie, and got a new contact on his phone.)
--
TY
“And you know what he did?”
Terushima watches as Hinata giggles, face flushed from the alcohol they were drinking. The two met up for dinner, something they usually did biweekly but got delayed the last time. So Terushima had a compiled list of things he needed to talk about (which he only remembers because he physically wrote all of the topics down onto a flimsy piece of paper).
“He tells the guy that he didn’t know what a fridge was!”
The ginger bursts at this, hands gripping his stomach as he leans back into his seat to let out the brightest, cutest laughter Terushima’s ever heard. It almost catches him off-guard, actually, and he has to actively try not to full on stare at the younger. A difficult task within itself already, and even more difficult when he’s already buzzed.
“Oh noooo,” Hinata cries amidst his laughing fit, lifting a hand to wipe away a stray tear, “Did he think that was actually going to work?!”
“Well, it did for like, maybe five minutes max.”
Hinata manages to purse his lips together before he makes another scene with his loud laughter, which works for maybe, five seconds max. Because he soon starts to complain that his stomach is hurting from all the laughing he’s doing, and the staff come over to tell them that their tablemates are complaining that they think their ears have gone partially deaf.
So, they find themselves in a taxi back to Hinata’s place.
The taxi driver’s nice enough not to make weird faces at them when they get into the car smelling like a liquor shop, which Terushima shows his appreciation for by telling the man to keep the change (he’ll later regret handing out that much money for a ten minute drive). The two waddle back and forth on the way up the stairs, holding onto each other as if it was actually going to help them at all. Which it doesn’t (of course), not when Terushima nearly trips up the stairs a handful of times nor when Hinata almost rams his face right up against his door because he forgot to unlock it.
Yet, despite the trials and tribulations, they (at some point) manage to get into Hinata’s apartment, toe off their shoes and waddle over to the couch, where they readily fall onto the soft cushions.
“Hina-tann,” Terushima mutters, “did’ja buy new pillows? They’re so softtt.”
“Terushima—hic—san, that’s my ass,” Hinata mutters back, face buried in the taller’s hair.
“Ohhh—hic—my bad.”
“It’s okayyy, I like hearing that my ass is soft. I don’t—hic—do all those squats for nothing!”
Drunken mutters soon become a comfortable silence, though neither of them are really asleep. It just feels nice to be somewhere soft and warm and familiar. Which they both clearly show considering how the two cling onto each other like a lifeline, arms and legs a tangled mess.
And it’s almost nice enough that Terushima could’ve fallen asleep, had Hinata’s phone not rung loudly.
“Ugh,” Hinata groans, turning to bury his face against the top of Terushima’s head. “I dun wanna get the phoneeee. Can you check for m—hic—me?”
“Sure,” Terushima mutters back, throwing a hand behind him to feel around on the coffee table behind them for Hinata’s phone. It takes a little while, but soon, he’s able to pull the phone fully into his hand and pull it up towards his face.
“Fuck—” Terushima curses when he unlocks the phone (how, you ask? The passcode is easy. 1711, the date MSBY beat the Adlers), immediately turning the brightness down. “Ah, hic it’s just Kageyama-kun. He texted you.”
“Mm, what’d he say?”
“He said, Shouyou, don’t forget we’re going to the gym Saturday morning, with a bunch of angry emojis.”
Hinata scoffs at this, which gives Terushima the impression that this is probably Kageyama’s usual texting style. The blond buries his face into the crook of Hinata’s neck, nuzzling into the warmth. A few more minutes of silence go by before Terushima picks Hinata’s phone up to look at it almost instinctively before he playfully huffs,
“So… when can I start calling you Shouyou?”
“Mm? I never said you couldn’t.”
Terushima chuckles at that, pleasantly surprised. Sluggishly, he tilts his head up just enough to bite at Hinata’s cheek, making the ginger whine and turn his head away.
“What’d I doooo? Whaddya wanttt?”
“Turn your head this way, Shouyou-kun.”
The ginger complies easily, something Terushima has always found endearing about the younger.
“Shouyou,” he calls, all drunkenly giddy and fluttery.
Hinata hums, fluttering his pretty lashes opened to glance at Terushima, lifting his hands to squish the taller’s cheeks.
“Yes?”
“Shouyou,” he repeats, a little less coherent with how his cheeks were being squished.
“Mm?”
“Shouyou—”
“Okay that’s enough,” Hinata huffs, wrapping his arms and legs around Terushima, tugging him impossibly closer, cheek pressed against the top of the other’s head. “Let’s go to sleep.”
“Okay.”
(Not even five minutes later, Terushima mutters a pitiful sounding Shouyou… and gets an accidental elbow to the face for waking the ginger up. He got a forehead kiss in return though, so… it was worth it.)
--
SE
Y’know, fansigns weren’t really Semi’s thing.
Sure, he loves his fans and all, and he loves greeting them. Especially when they come in with the expectation that he’s some big scary dude only to find out that he’s just an introvert who happens to love performing more than being inside. And sometimes, people even come in with the knowledge that he used to be part of the Shiratorizawa volleyball team back in high school. Those conversations are even more fun to partake in.
However, that doesn’t mean that he enjoys the seat he’s sitting in.
Honestly, he would pitch in some money to buy more comfortable chairs for these events, especially since he and his entire band were going to be sitting. Still, in these chairs, for a solid three hours. He’s placed the event in his phone calendar before, but it keeps slipping his mind (read: he’s too scared to talk to his new manager because he thinks he’ll scare him).
Semi’s legs shift back and forth, and he finds himself constantly crossing and uncrossing his legs as he greets this fan goodbye. She’s sweet, much like all the other fans, wearing a cute Micky Mouse headband that has long been dubbed the symbol of Semi stans. Semi doesn’t understand why he represents a mouse—he was an eagle back in high school! How could he be reduced to its prey now?!
Perhaps it was that one livestream the band did where he was shown eating cheese right out of the bag at near midnight? (It was definitely the livestream where he was shown eating cheese right out of the bag at near midnight).
Completely enraptured in his thoughts, he fails to see nor hear the next fan that slides up to his portion of the table. They seem really giddy, he notices, when he flicks his eyes up just enough to see what he assumes is them rocking back and forth between their heels and the balls of their feet. Cute.
“Hey,” he greets smoothly, reaching out to slide the fan’s already signed album towards him to add his signature onto it as well. There’s a huge spot in the center that’s left unsigned, probably for him since he’s the last person, which is also cute. This person’s probably his stan, too, and the thought just has him all giddy again. He never thought he’d ever be lucky enough to form a band, much less perform on stage for thousands to see and have his own dedicated fans who show up just to see him.
“Hello,” the fan greets back, in a light, but still masculine voice.
Ah, one of their rare fans that wasn’t a high schooler. Maybe a college student?
“Would you like me to sign a special message for you? If you do, what name should I address it to?”
Semi tilts his head up just at the right time to see the fan standing across the table from him. Cedar eyes meet golden honey ones, and he just sits there, mouth agape as he registers just who it is that’s asking him for his autograph. The fan notices this, naturally, and his eyes crinkle up prettily as he gives Semi a bright, toothy smile, lifting a hand to fix the Minnie Mouse headband on his head.
“Shouyou, please.”
Eyes widened, he doesn’t notice that he’s unintentionally causing a scene until his bandmate clears his throat and shoves an elbow against his side, making him yelp and burst into a coughing fit.
“S-Semi-san, are you alright?”
Said man pries his eyes open to see Hinata with his hands hovering in the air indecisively, unaware of where to place them. He lifts his free hand to place up a finger in a silent please wait signal, he finishes coughing up his lungs into the other elbow. After a good minute, he finally manages to clear out his throat of whatever it was that made him choke like that, reaching out to take a long sip of his bottled water. And as soon as he recovers, he’s back to the jumbled, confused mess from before, pointing a hand at Hinata as he hisses under his breath,
“Y-you’re Karasuno’s old #10!! The Black Jackals’ #21!!”
“Ahaha, I didn’t expect you to recognize me,” Hinata says, grinning bashfully as he fiddles with his fingers. Goodness, he’s so cute.
“How could I not?! You were amazing back then, and you’ve managed to become even more amazing now! And sorry, I totally spaced out earlier, what name did you want me to address it to?”
“Shouyou,” Hinata repeats, going back to his little rocking motion from earlier. “It’s my first name.”
Semi notices the sudden change in his demeanor, giving a small smile before he reaches out wave Hinata closer to him. The ginger does so with wide eyes and a little head tilt that has Semi’s heart doing things as he places a hand atop his head to ruffle his hair.
“Why so nervous all of a sudden? It’s not like we’re strangers, right?”
“Y-yeah, I just didn’t expect you to recognize me. And you even complimented me!”
Hinata stands upright again, allowing Semi to take in the sight of his flushed face, which looks endearing to say the least.
“C’mon now, Shouyou, you’re gonna make me think you’re my fan or something with how shy you’re acting.”
Hinata makes a little offended noise at that, making Semi lift his head to see the ginger pouting while pointing to the Minnie Mouse headband atop his head.
“I am,” he huffs quite adorably, cheeks puffed.
Chuckling, Semi slides the album back towards Hinata before lifting his hands defensively.
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry, I should’ve been more observant.”
Lips tugged into a wide grin, Semi turns his head back just in time to see Hinata read through the note and turn impossibly red.
“I—Thank you, goodbye!”
Hinata bows, nearly hitting his head against the table before he rushes off with what dignity he had left, leaving Semi to burst into a fit of laughter that has both bandmates and fans alike confused off their asses.
(He’ll receive weird looks from his bandmates later on the drive back to their dorms for staring at his phone the entire time.
Then he receives a noise complaint from his neighbors because he accidentally screamed and threw his phone against the wall when he got a text from a certain ginger.)
--
KN
Kuguri might be dumb, but he’s never been stupid.
Is what he would’ve said maybe ten minutes ago. Because he just did something he’s sure his family and friends would all clown him for.
See, he has a slight weakness against cute people. Guys, girls, whatever, as long as they’re of age and cute, Kuguri will find them cute. And he says slight because he’s never done anything stupid out of feeling attraction towards another human being, at least up until now. In a bubble tea shop. On a Thursday afternoon.
It started when he walked into the shop and ordered his usual before sitting down at a vacant table to do some homework. Y’know, midterm season and all, so he had to do something to ensure that he would at least pass (away, he would sometimes add, but not this late into the game. He’s spent too much money to decide to go on before he gets that damned diploma).
Back to the story, he’s sitting there, right? Just minding his own business, when he sees the sun incarnate walk into the same shop he was in. Truthfully, he spotted the man from outside, mainly because of his bright hair. But also because he heard a soft giggle coming through the open window by his seat, and it sounded so sweet, he just had to look. And look, he did. He also drooled a bit and spilled some of his royal milk tea onto his shirt, but that’s beside the point.
So he sees who could potentially be the love of his life walking into his favorite boba shop. Coincidence? He thinks not, especially not with what happens next (it’ll surprise you, his mind helpfully adds on.)
Cute guy, he’s decided to call him cute guy because y’know, he doesn’t know the dude’s name, is up there ordering and it turns out that his speaking voice is just as sweet as his giggle. What a surprise. He orders a strawberry shortcake shake (adorable), and then reaches into his bag. And freezes.
This was the point where Kuguri really started to pay attention.
Cute guy is a stuttering mess, and with his super hearing skills, AKA him leaning forward, he manages to catch on that cute guy seems to have forgotten his wallet back home or something. He makes an apologetic face towards the cashier, politely bowing to leave the shop when Kuguri does it. He does it.
He gets up and he goes up to the register just as cute guy turns around and slams his card down onto the counter.
“I’ll pay for him,” is what he manages to say while he internally cries about how much his hand stung from being swung onto the counter like that.
Cute guy is gaping at him, and soon enough, he’s even clinging onto him, tiny hands holding onto his arm as he tries to convince him not to waste his money on a stranger.
“O-oh, no, please, I don’t want to be a bother! Please don’t waste your money on me—”
“I’m not wasting anything, don’t worry,” Kuguri responds somehow, despite his heart racing. “As long as you enjoy the drink, I’d be glad to pay for it. Will you to enjoy the drink?”
His question has the ginger pursing his lips and nodding, seamlessly adorable. So Kuguri simply slides the card closer to the cashier, who watches the scene unfolding in awe.
“I’ll pay for you then, okay?”
The cashier looks just as flustered as cute guy does, but it doesn’t really hit the same. Or maybe it’s just because cute guy has managed to raise his standards high up into the heavens. It’s probable.
“Uh—um… could I get a name for this order?”
Immediately, Kuguri turns to the ginger, effectively startling the smaller.
“What’s your name, sweetling?”
“H-Hinata,” he answers.
Kuguri raises a brow.
“Full name, Hinata-san?”
Kuguri only belatedly realizes that it’s a bit of a creepy question to ask, but Hinata simply flushes and gives an answer.
“Hinata Shouyou.”
“Shouyou, then.”
The worker nods, scribbling the name down before they’re passing the cup down to their coworkers to get the drink made. Kuguri offers to share his table while Hinata waits for his drink, and somehow, Hinata accepts.
“That was very nice of you, thank you, Kuguri-san.”
“No problem, Shouyou.”
“I’ll treat you next time!”
The little outburst from the ginger has Kuguri surprised; he didn’t expect to see such energy from the smaller when he was just shy and blushy. He can’t say he doesn’t like it, though. Now he really seems like the sun incarnate.
Amused, he cocks his head to the side and offers Hinata a little smirk (Seriously, Daishou taught him so many bad things.)
“I look forward to next time, then.”
(They spend a little more time together in the shop, which is spent wonderfully, with Hinata animatedly explaining his love for volleyball and even animatedly listening to Kuguri explain his engineering homework.
By the end of the day, Hinata’s scored a free drink, and Kuguri ends up scoring a boba date next Thursday.)
--
AA
“No, that’s a bad idea,” Asahi says, already dreading what would happen if he partook in Suga’s prank.
The old Karasuno team were all gathered at Hinata’s apartment to celebrate his 22nd birthday, and as always, Suga was trying to instigate some drama. Why? He thinks having beef with preschoolers isn’t really his thing, he prefers having arguments and watching arguments between people who can actually make up more creative insults than poopy-pants.
“Aw, c’mon, what’s the harm? You’ve called him by his name before, haven’t you?”
It’s probably time for Suga to stop drinking before he ends up landing on Tanaka’s lap again, asking to be carried to the bathroom like some knockoff royalty. Asahi, incredibly doubtful that the prank would be no harm, shakes his head again, instead reaching out to grab Suga’s cup, setting it on the kitchen counter behind him.
“AHHH, NOT MY DRINK!” Suga wails, flailing his arms around.
“You need to stop drinking, Suga,” Asahi scolds, ignoring Suga’s cries of WHY, “because you’re now trying to tease Shouyou to the max.”
“SEE?! You called him by his first name, so why can’t you do it to his face?!”
“Because—”
“Please? Just once? I’ll stop drinking if you do it!”
Okay. Suga’s kinda got him there. It sounds like a pretty good deal, honestly. Then Suga wouldn’t bother him for the rest of the night, and hopefully he stays away from Hinata, too. Okay, but what if he lies? No, Suga wouldn’t do that, he says he’s a man of his word when he’s drunk, so he’d rather belly flop on the carpet (it’s happened before) than break a promise. Alright, but what if he sneaks a drink instead? Well, he wouldn’t be the one suffering in that case, because poor Tanaka always seems to get the short end of the stick when it comes to handling drunk people. ARGH.
Finally, after what seems to an eternity of thinking, Asahi finally gives, head drooping as he heaves a heavy sigh.
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
Asahi faintly registers that his pain is Suga’s happiness, dragging a hand across his face while he waits for the opportune time. Which should be never, but Suga thinks it’d be best to do it away from the group, which is the only thing that Asahi has agreed with the entire night.
So he does just that. He anxiously waits while Hinata’s fluttering about like the social butterfly he is, at the little corner where he and Suga were, dreading the moment he has to call Hinata’s first name. Well, the ginger looks a little buzzed, so maybe he won’t cause such a scene? Or, or, he’ll be so emotional that he does cause a scene—
“Asahi-sannn! Suga-sannn! How’s the food and drink?!”
“I like everything, Shou, thanks for having us,” Suga responds all cool, a stark difference to how he was just a few minutes ago. Bastard, Asahi curses at his friend internally. Then he turns around, all worried, because Hinata’s eyes were now on him. His bright, doe eyes were glued to his face, lips tugged into a bright, anticipatory smile.
“What about you, Asahi-san?!”
Suga takes a sip from his cup, water, Asahi checked earlier, giving the tallest of the three a not-so-subtle glance that screams stick to the plan.
This has Asahi sighing, which stresses Hinata out already, the youngest making a concerned face. God, this was going to hurt.
Putting on a smile, Asahi turns to face Hinata, a tense smile etched across his face.
“I-it’s all good so far, S-Shouyou.”
Suddenly, time seems to pause for the ginger, who freezes with his mouth agape. Here we go.
“What…? What did you call me?”
“Shouyou,” Asahi manages to spit out once more, effectively causing the ginger to tear up and sniffle.
“NO! That’s not my name!”
The youngest is all up in his space in a matter of seconds, fists clutching onto the collar of his shirt, not aggressively, but rather desperately. Tears have already started to overflow and run down his cheeks, and Asahi curses at himself for a second for thinking that he looked so pretty. But instead of saying anything, his hands just kind of hover around Hinata’s body as the ginger starts pounding his tiny fists making equally tiny thump sounds against Asahi’s chest.
“Did I do something wrong?! Why’d you call me Shouyou?! My name is baby!”
And here was what he was really afraid of. The Karasuno members were all drinking calmly, as if they were all in on this thing from the start, but they weren’t that slick—he saw their phones sticking out from underneath folded arms. Except for Kageyama and Yachi, ever the angels of the group. They must be protected at all costs.
He hears Suga scoff from across him, the gray-haired man letting out the cockiest chuckle as Hinata continues to list off more of the names Asahi calls him—angel, pumpkin, sweetling, love—this was probably what they were really after, is what Asahi belatedly realizes. Of course, why would they want to embarrass Hinata that much on his own birthday?
Cheeks incredibly flushed, from both the alcohol and his very compromising situation, Asahi still manages to gather the ginger into his arms, holding him close to his chest. He tilts his head down to see Hinata’s cheek smooshed against his chest, the younger still sniffling despite no longer tearing up. He shouldn’t be this cute.
“Shouyou,” he calls gently. No response.
“Shouyou,” he tries again, but still nothing.
Sighing, he glares at Suga, silently flipping him off before he decides to break off their already very one-sided agreement.
“Baby,” Asahi finally coos, the ginger immediately perking up at the familiar pet name. “I’m sorry, I had to call you by your first name earlier because a certain someone—” he shoots a glare to an innocently whistling Suga (who very obviously has his phone out) “—told me to do it. But I didn’t mean to make you upset, I know you don’t like me calling your first name.”
Hinata bounces on his heels, which is a familiar sign to Asahi now, after all these years, so he opens his arms and lets the younger climb onto him like a koala, arms and legs tightly wrapped around him.
“Could you,” Hinata starts, voice small and meek, which has Asahi feeling like the biggest asshole ever, “could you just cuddle me for now? I’m still mad at you!”
The little squeak the younger lets out isn’t intimidating at all, really, but Asahi complies anyways, but away from the prying eyes of their old teammates. He does his best to ignore the whooping (Tanaka, Suga, and Noya) and the cooing (Kiyoko and oddly enough, Daichi) as he carries Hinata to his room with one hand, opening the door with the other.
Partly walking through the door, Asahi stops just before he fully goes through. With a deep inhale, he internally asks himself to pardon his language before he turns to his friends and mouths the clearest fuck you he could manage while buzzed.
(He manages to calm Hinata down after about an hour of reminding him that his name was not Shouyou and was in fact, all the cheesy pet names Asahi’s given him. They both end up falling asleep, unaware that the rest of the group decided to hang around, too.
Asahi wakes up first, walking out to see the group all passed out in the cleaned living room. At least they were still considerate enough to clean up after themselves, he thinks as he makes his way to the bathroom.
Then he sees his reflection and shrieks.)
In case you wanted to know,
There was a horribly drawn penis on his forehead (he thinks it’s either Tsukishima or Tanaka), a very middle school-esque Noya was here on his right cheek, and a tangerine drawn on his left cheek (it’s neat, so he thinks they somehow got Yachi to draw it).