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It was supposed to be a perfectly ordinary rest day for Hinata, one month into his new stint as a member of the MSBY Black Jackals. It had started out normally enough. He’d woken up to bright sunbeams in his face, changed out of his pajamas, and padded silently over to the dorm bathroom shared with the other young members of MSBY. None of his three roommates were found inside, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary either. Their morning schedules varied, each with his own preferred times for running, preparing breakfast, and relaxing, and Hinata rather enjoyed having a quiet moment to himself in the otherwise boisterous apartment.
It was perfectly ordinary to peek into the living room and find Atsumu sitting there on the couch, thumbing at his phone. Hinata usually greeted him on the way to the kitchen. What was completely, unquestionably out of the ordinary today was that Atsumu was sitting there wearing a dress.
Hinata had to pause in the hallway and rub his eyes. Was he still dreaming? He blinked a few more times.
If those actions were supposed to wake him up, it didn’t work. Atsumu was still sitting on the couch wearing a frilly dress covered in lace. It wasn’t too far from a French maid outfit, except it was a rather fetching shade of lilac purple, instead of the stereotypical black. It was also the kind of outfit Hinata thought wouldn’t appear anywhere but his dreams, but well, here it was. In the flesh. Or rather, on Atsumu’s flesh.
Atsumu hadn’t noticed him yet, and Hinata was only slightly ashamed of taking advantage to admire Atsumu’s impressive thighs, proudly on display as the short skirt of his outfit did absolutely nothing to cover them. Hinata’s gaze roamed upwards to where Atsumu’s pecs practically bulged through the flimsy fabric. The dress looked tight enough on the setter that one casual stretch of his arms was likely all it would take for the top to split in two.
Hinata felt his throat dry up as he continued to stare. Part of him wanted to bolt straight back to his room and hide. His long-standing crush on the blond setter had returned in full force ever since he came back to Japan, made only stronger each time he spiked one of Atsumu’s perfectly-delivered sets.
The first time he hit one of Atsumu’s sets during try-outs, he’d felt butterflies like no other. When he officially signed with the team and learned that he’d be staying with Atsumu in the same dorm, he’d nearly collapsed on the spot. He wasn’t sure how he could handle seeing Atsumu so much, not when he felt like his insides twisted into knots anytime they so much as made eye contact.
All told, he’d done admirably the past month. In fact, he’d even say he and Atsumu had become good friends, chummy enough to sit next to each other on bus trips, share food, and tell jokes to each other. So yeah, Hinata has been doing great at managing his crush and acting normal, until now, hiding in the shadows of the hall as his eyes raked over Atsumu’s impeccable body in a tight dress.
Hinata had peeked out a little more than he’d intended, because on the next sweep his eyes met Atsumu’s, and Hinata desperately tried to freeze his face into an expression that didn’t betray that he’d been caught staring.
“A-Atsumu-san, good morning,” he said as he stepped into the living room.
“Good morning, Shouyou-kun!” Atsumu called back, before returning to his phone.
Hinata blinked. That’s it?
“Uhh, Atsumu-san?”
Atsumu merely hummed without looking back at him. Hinata took that as a good enough sign to continue.
“Not that I’m judging or anything, but why are you wearing a dress?”
“What do you mean? I’m not wearing a dress.”
“What?” Hinata stared at him, half expecting the setter to clarify that it wasn’t a dress, it was a matching top and skirt or something to that effect. When Atsumu didn’t, Hinata frowned. “Atsumu-san?”
“Shouyou-kun? What are you talking about?”
“I—what are you wearing then?”
“My… normal clothes?”
“Atsumu-san, are you serious?”
“Are you feeling alright, Shouyou-kun?” Atsumu was giving him a raised eyebrow, and Hinata didn’t have words to answer him. Clearly not, though now he wasn’t sure if it was the dress or Atsumu’s complete denial that was causing his head to spin.
Hinata tried to take a step backwards, feeling utterly puzzled, but he bumped into a large, warm body and could move no further.
“Hey, hey, hey, you two!” Bokuto’s voice was only ever one volume in the dorm—loud. Especially from right behind Hinata’s ears. “Good morning Hinata,” he said, giving Hinata’s shoulders a strong pat with his two large hands. “Good morning, Tsum-Tsum!”
Hinata turned to observe Bokuto’s look of confusion at Atsumu’s outfit, only he didn’t find any. Bokuto merely grinned and continued his walk towards the dorm kitchen, presumably to prepare his usual egg white breakfast omelet.
“Wha—Bokuto-san!” Hinata hurried after Bokuto into the kitchen, following the spiker as he bustled to the fridge.
“What’s up, Hinata? Would you like an omelet?”
“Oh, uh, sure. But, Bokuto-san…”
“Two eggs? Three?”
“Two is good.” Hinata shook his head. “Bokuto-san, what’s going on? Why is…” He lowered his voice down to a whisper. “Why is Atsumu-san wearing a dress? And why is he denying it?”
“What? You gotta speak up, Hinata.” Bokuto practically hollered at him over the sounds of egg whisking.
“Why is Atsumu-san wearing a dress?”
“What do you mean? ‘Tsumu’s not wearing a dress.”
Hinata cringed, because surely everyone in the dorm could hear that statement, including Atsumu, the person he did not want hearing that. Then he processed the contents of that statement. “Bokuto-san, what do you mean he’s not wearing a dress? What is he wearing then? ”
“His… normal clothes?” Bokuto strode back to the kitchen doorway to peer out to the living room again. “He’s wearing a red shirt and some shorts,” he said, as if reporting on the weather or something completely banal.
Was Hinata going insane? Was everyone?
“Bokuto-san, what—”
“Are you making omelets, Bokkun? Can I get one too?”
“Sure, ‘Tsumu!”
As Bokuto cracked a few more eggs into his mixture, Hinata whirled around. Yup, there Atsumu was, standing in the doorway, and decidedly still in a purple lace dress. The skirt puffed out enough to take up the entire width of the doorway, and—Hinata forced himself to stop looking, because he could probably see everything his wildest wet dreams could desire, and he was decidedly not going to leer at his teammate in the kitchen of their shared apartment.
Hinata dragged a palm down his face and chanced another glance at Atsumu. Yup, still purple. Still frilly. With a sigh, he busied himself with getting a pan heated up for Bokuto to make the omelets and followed up with setting the breakfast table for the three of them.
As they sat down to eat, Hinata watched Atsumu flop into his usual chair, skirt poofing around him. The man himself seemed to give no indication he was bothered though, digging voraciously into his omelet, the same as ever.
Sakusa soon joined them, walking into the kitchen with a mug of tea in hand and mumbling a quiet “good morning” to none of them in particular. He sat down next to Hinata at the breakfast table. He set the mug down. Hinata watched Sakusa for his reaction as discreetly as he could, but Sakusa hardly even glanced at Atsumu. Instead, he chose to frown at Bokuto, who was noisily devouring his omelet on Sakusa’s other side.
Hinata set his fork down, no longer feeling hungry. Why was everyone so calm and normal? “What is going on, guys?”
“Hinata, what are you talking about?” Sakusa’s eyes flicked over to him as he took another sip from his mug.
“You too, Omi-kun? You can’t see it either?”
“See what, Hinata?”
Hinata let his head drop onto the table with a loud thump. This was too much. Was… was he really actually imagining it? Maybe he has gone insane, after all. Maybe this was his mind’s way of trying to fulfill his crush in the worst, most embarrassing way possible.
“I—I’m not feeling so good. I’m going to go lie down.” Hinata stood and shakily dumped his dish into the sink. He headed back to his room. He’d only barely gotten the door open when Atsumu ran up behind him, skirt still flapping comically around his muscular thighs.
“Wait, Shouyou-kun, is everything okay?”
Hinata just squinted his eyes at the setter before motioning for him to come inside the room too. When the door clicked close behind him, Hinata flopped onto his bed, burying his head into his pillow. He couldn’t face Atsumu like this, not when he was apparently so far gone that his mind automatically imagined him in things like revealing purple dresses.
“Shouyou-kun?” Atsumu sounded rather concerned now, and Hinata felt ready to scream.
“I’m really not. I—” Hinata broke off.
“Is this about the dress?”
“Of course it is, why the fuck do I see you in a dress? You’re all… purple and frilly and… am I just going insane? You’re so hot and if I keep seeing this dress I’m going to rip it off of you and—”
Hinata abruptly cut himself off. Was the pillow enough to muffle that? He peered at Atsumu, who was standing by his bed, slack-jawed. Nope, guess not.
“Um… Can we forget I just said that?”
Atsumu appeared to shake himself. “You think I’m hot?”
“Really, Atsumu-san? I said all of that, and that’s what you focus on? What about the fact that I’m going insane? Shouldn’t you be more concerned about that?”
Atsumu’s eyes widened, and then unexpectedly, he gave Hinata a very sheepish grin. “To be honest, Shouyou-kun, I didn’t think you’d be so gullible.”
“What?”
“I am wearing a dress.” Atsumu waved his skirt a little bit with his hand, very nearly flashing Hinata. “Obviously.”
Oh, how Hinata’s ears were burning right now. He very dearly wanted to hide under the covers, but that would be somewhat rude.
“You’re wearing a dress.” Hinata echoed weakly.
“Yup.”
“But Bokuto-san and Omi-san—”
“—were in on it too. We prank all the newcomers to the team.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“So I’m not going insane.”
“No.”
Hinata could only look Atsumu up and down again. “I can’t believe I fell for that.”
Atsumu gave him a light chuckle. “Yeah. Me neither.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. Atsumu turned a light shade of pink as he tugged at the collar of the frilly dress he was still wearing. “So, Shouyou-kun. You think I’m cute?”
Hinata sighed. No use denying it, he supposed. “Yes. Sorry, does that make things weird?”
Atsumu just grinned. “I think you’re cute too. Especially when you’re all flustered.”
“What?”
“See, like that.”
Atsumu was getting entirely too close, and Hinata could only squirm so far back on his bed before his back hit the wall. Atsumu leaned towards him, looking downright starving as his eyes flicked down to Hinata’s mouth.
Hinata’s eyes fluttered shut of their own accord, and he puckered his lips, waiting. But nothing came.
Confused, he opened one eye to find Atsumu pouting slightly and frowning down at his lacy outfit.
“Atsumu-san? Are you alright?”
“I just didn’t want our first kiss to be so ridiculous. Maybe I should change first.”
Oh for heaven’s sake.
“Atsumu-san.”
When the setter looked back up, Hinata yanked him forward by the front of his (admittedly ridiculous) dress and kissed him. They nearly missed each other, and their lips didn’t quite fit right, but Hinata stopped caring. He still wasn’t quite sure if this was reality or a dream, but he wasn’t going to let a chance like this slip away.
Atsumu tasted good, and his lips were soft. And his muscles were very nice once they finally got that dress off of him.
Ordinary day it was not, but Hinata supposed he wouldn’t mind if kissing Atsumu became an ordinary occurrence. Maybe not always in a dress though. (But maybe sometimes.)
“Those two are taking a really long time to talk,” said Bokuto as he polished off the last of his omelet.
“Oh, I feel like they’ll be a while,” said Sakusa. He leaned back against his chair to sip his cup of tea, looking downright smug.
“Sure was lucky that Tsum-Tsum drew the short stick for the dress.”
“Luck had absolutely nothing to do with it.” Sakusa indulged in another long sip of tea. “I was getting tired of those two mooning after each other.”