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Tobio steps out of the dull yellow cab and peels around the back to help the driver unload their luggage from the trunk. Hinata and Tsukishima tumble out after him, both stretching and wringing out their arms towards the sky. He can hear Hinata humming excitedly.
Tobio hands them their bags and nods appreciatively at the driver. Hinata says something to the man in Portuguese, shakes out some bills from his wallet and gives them to him, his smile as bright as the Brazilian sun beating down on the back of their necks. The driver smiles back and tips his blue and white baseball cap at them.
“What’d you say?” Tobio murmurs, nudging Hinata with his bag. He gets the feeling he’s going to be asking that a lot this week.
“I just told him that his driving was really good!”
Tsukishima mumbles something under his breath that Tobio doesn’t hear.
Tobio stares up at the building in front of them, his tired eyes burning in the glare of the midday sun. The hotel is a tall, white building, with seemingly random banana-yellow accents around the windows. A green sign with the logo is propped outside the door, the color just as bright as the building. Hinata doesn’t stop to stare, he just charges ahead, his bag swinging on his hip. Tobio and Tsukishima have to jog to catch up.
The lobby is filled with more of the bright yellows and greens, from the potted plants to the pillows on the sofas. Even the carpet matches.
Hinata strides up to the desk with Tsukishima as Tobio lags behind, looking at the magazines on the table and stopping to inspect a particularly interesting looking plant. He thinks Tsukishima made the reservation, as he was deemed the most responsible one. Tobio’s just along for the ride. He watches Tsukishima hand over his identification to the lady behind the desk, while Hinata chatters on with her. He sits down on one of the sofas and closes his eyes.
He wakes up to Hinata shouting “Tired-yama!” and shaking his shoulder. He bats lazily at Hinata’s hand to get him to stop and opens his eyes. He really hadn’t meant to fall asleep.
“Loud,” Tobio mutters. He stands up and reaches for the handle of his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. Hinata snickers and pushes him towards the elevator, where Tsukishima is already waiting.
They ride the elevator in silence, all tired from the long day of travel. It stops on the seventh floor and they pile out into the hallway. Tsukishima leads them down to room 724. He slides in the electronic keycard, pushes the door open and throws his bag inside.
“This is my room,” he says.
Tobio peers around the door at the bright-white room. He sees two double beds covered with patterned blue comforters and a big television mounted on the wall in front of them. He hopes his room has a TV.
Tsukishima hands Hinata a key card. “This is for yours. 741, down the hallway that way.” He points to his left. “I don’t think it’s a good idea if we nap or anything, since we want to adjust to the time zone and go to bed at a normal hour.” He checks his watch. “So, let’s meet in the lobby at 5 for dinner?”
“Okay!” Hinata says brightly. “I’ll pick out a good place around here, so we don’t have to go too far tonight.”
Tsukishima nods and waves goodbye to them. Tobio follows Hinata down the hallway to room 741. The carpet is the same as downstairs.
When they reach the door, Hinata slides in the keycard and pushes the door open with a bang. Tobio is tempted to call him loud again, but he yawns instead. They stumble inside and drop their bags on the floor. Tobio yawns a second time and curses Tsukishima for his “no-napping” rule. He bends down to rifle through his bag for his water bottle. Cold water will keep him awake.
“Kageyama,” Hinata says suddenly. “It’s just one bed.”
Tobio looks up at the room and sure enough, there’s only a queen-sized bed in the middle of it. It takes up practically the whole room and is covered by the same blue comforter as the beds in Tsukishima’s room.
He shrugs. “At least there’s a television.”
“You don’t mind sharing?” Hinata asks.
Tobio pauses for a moment. He’s not sure why this is a big deal. They slept next to each other on their futons for years in high school, and Tobio distinctly remembers Hinata curling up in his bed a few nights during their third year when the room was cold, and it felt like the days they had left in the same country were numbered.
“No,” he says. “I don’t.”
“We could always go ask Tsuki to switch. I think his room had two beds, for some reason.” Hinata is worrying his lip between his teeth. Tobio sighs.
“It’s fine, Hinata. I don’t want to bother him anyway.” Tobio goes back to searching for his water bottle. “He’ll just be annoyed.”
“Okay,” Hinata finally says. He moves to grab his bag and carries it to the other side of the room, dropping it into the big blue armchair in the corner. “You can’t get mad if I kick you, though. You know I move in my sleep.”
“I’m allowed to get mad if you kick me,” argues Tobio. “But I promise not to get too mad.”
Hinata smiles. “Good. Or else I’ll drop you off somewhere and make you find your way back.”
Tobio growls and tosses one of his t-shirts at Hinata’s head. “Don’t even joke. I can barely get around in Tokyo, and I speak the language.”
Hinata’s bright laugh fills up the small room. Tobio finally feels his water bottle in the bottom of the bag and pulls it out, taking a long sip. He’s almost sad when Hinata stops laughing.
By the time dinner is over, Tobio thinks most of their tiredness has worn off. Hinata keeps pointing out things excitedly that he recognizes as they walk back to the hotel, and Tsukishima even asks him a few questions in return. They walk down sloping streets awash in pale yellows from the streetlights overhead. Crowds of people spill out of outdoor bars and restaurants. They pass the dark storefront of a bookstore and Tobio peers inside at the shelves.
“Did you live around here?” he asks suddenly.
Hinata nods and starts to explain the surrounding neighborhoods. He tells Tobio that he lived about a ten-minute bike ride away from this one.
“Is there a net nearby?” is Tobio’s second question, and Hinata grins wickedly in response.
“There’s actually one a few streets behind the hotel. We can go back and grab my ball from our room if you want!”
“Yeah,” Tobio says.
Tsukishima makes a noise of disapproval from behind them. Hinata ignores him and babbles on about the court. Tobio wonders if Tsukishima is regretting his choice of hotel. He’s not really sure what Tsuki expected though — he should honestly be appreciative that he and Hinata waited this long at all to play.
Hinata stops pointing things out and they make it back to the hotel quickly; Tobio can tell that his mind’s entirely shifted from showing them Rio to getting on the sand. It’s a bit endearing.
“Are you going to come, Tsukishima?” Hinata asks, once they’re outside his hotel room door.
He shakes his head. “You two go ahead. I’ll come by around ten. I’m sure you’ll be ready to sleep by then.”
“Okay!” Hinata says. “You’re gonna miss out on the fun!”
“Pass.” Tsukishima opens the door to his room. “I’d rather play tomorrow once I have a full night of sleep.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” promises Hinata.
They head back to their room to change and grab the volleyball. Hinata starts to go over the different rules of beach and tricks to staying upright in the sand — it’s nothing Tobio hasn’t heard from him before, but he keeps quiet and listens. He’ll take every piece of information he can get if it means being able to beat Hinata at his own game.
Hinata talks the whole way to the court. Tobio slips in a few questions here and there, but mostly he just absorbs the information and watches Hinata’s profile as he talks. The smattering of stars in the sky above reflect in the deep amber of his eyes and his mouth quirks up into a smile at the end of every sentence. If he notices Tobio staring, he keeps quiet about it.
The courts are situated in a small park surrounded by looming palm trees and dark green underbrush. There are two nets in total, lined up side-by-side. Both are, luckily, unoccupied. Hinata takes off his sandals and throws them towards the edge of the court. Tobio does the same.
Hinata runs as soon as he sees the sand, laughing and diving into a front somersault as soon as his feet touch it. His energy is infectious. Tobio grabs a handful of sand and throws it up in the air. The ground feels cool around his hands, a welcome change from the hot, sticky air surrounding them.
“Oi,” Tobio says. “Are we going to play or are you going to fool around in the sand the whole time?”
“Play!” Hinata calls back. “Also, I know I talked about it, but let me show you first how to plant and stuff in the sand properly. I can’t have Olympic athlete Kageyama Tobio getting injured on my watch.” Hinata crosses the court. Tobio flicks his forehead when he gets close enough.
“You’re an Olympic athlete too, stupid,” Tobio says. Hinata laughs and tries to flick him back, but Tobio expertly dodges. “Show me your plants or whatever.”
Hinata complies. He tells Tobio about taking smaller steps than in indoor and how to adjust his approach for a spike.
“When you’re doing your run-up, make sure you step your right foot up a lot higher than you usually do. It’ll keep you from tripping.”
He demonstrates the best way to plant your feet for setting and Tobio copies him, tossing the ball a couple times into the air while he does. The sand sinks around his toes. It feels uncomfortable, even when he stomps on it a few times to harden it down. He jogs forward a few times, trying to get the steps right, Hinata’s advice ringing in his ears.
“I’m a much better teacher than you,” Hinata remarks. “Remember when you tried to teach me overhand receives? You said like maybe three words that were actually Japanese.”
Tobio raises his eyebrows and lunges towards Hinata, who doesn’t move out of the way fast enough. He grabs him around the waist and tackles him to the ground. Hinata hits the sand with a soft oomph and Tobio rolls on top of him, his chin resting on Hinata’s chest.
He fixes Hinata with a teasing smile. “How can you teach me if you can’t even stay on your own feet?”
Hinata raises his arms to drum on Tobio’s chest. “Kageyama,” he says. “You look scary. Ge’ off me.”
Tobio shifts and pins his left arm across Hinata’s shoulders. Hinata’s eyes are trained on his face and he’s once again struck by the way they look in the dark — warm and amber and seemingly filled with stars. His shoulder feels strong and muscular under Tobio’s hand.
Tobio’s frozen. He always seems to get stuck in Hinata’s orbit.
They stare at each other for what seems like minutes. Tobio wonders if Hinata can feel the heavy beat of his heart through the thin material of his t-shirt. He feels transfixed, his eyes leave Hinata’s to settle on his lips and—
His back is suddenly flat on the sand. Hinata stands up and brushes sand out of the back of his hair. He looks away from Tobio to stare at the net.
“Tobio,” he says, his voice quiet and a little rough. “Let’s practice serves.”
The sand clings to the back of his calves as he stands. He wishes he knew what Hinata was thinking. He’s quiet, for once, as he retrieves the ball and moves to the opposite side of the net from Tobio.
He starts off with a normal serve, but the spin on it is absolutely wicked. Tobio remembers to take small steps as he moves to receive it, but he still trips a little on a pile of sand. Hinata’s laughing at him and suddenly the awkward moment seems to pass and they’re back to normal, laughing and swapping insults from across the net.
Tobio’s not sure how long they play. Hinata’s setting for him as he practices approaches, and after a particularly high jump he lands in the sand and feels all the tiredness finally seep into his legs. He lays down and stares up at Hinata.
“I’m wiped,” he says. “Do you think Tsuki will be here soon?”
Hinata plops down next to him and checks his watch. “I think thirty minutes.”
They lay in the sand, slowly catching their breath. The stars seem right in Tobio’s face now, hovering above him and shining bright enough to be seen past the dim lights of the volleyball court. He’s not sure he’s ever noticed the stars in Tokyo. They remind him of home, of Miyagi.
He wonders if Hinata likes stars.
“You’ve got a lot to learn,” Hinata says. “But I could tell you got used to the sand pretty quickly.”
Tobio shrugs. “It’s not too hard.” He’s lying.
“Liar!” He forgot that Hinata can always tell. “You were yelling at the sand just five minutes ago.”
He tilts his head back farther into the sand and doesn’t say anything in response. He watches Hinata copy him out of the corner of his eye. Their heads are nearly touching. Their arms are touching, Tobio can feel the warm thrum of Hinata’s skin against his forearm. He’s reminded of being on top of Hinata just a few hours ago, the feeling of Hinata’s shoulder under his hand and the dark look in his eyes.
“Thanks for coming,” Hinata says, his voice quieter now. Tobio’s heart constricts at the sincerity in it. “To Brazil, I mean.”
“Y-yeah,” Tobio says, stumbling around the rushing sound in his ears. He always gets a little scared when Hinata is serious. He’s never exactly sure what he’s going to say.
“I remember,” Hinata starts. “When I was here, I missed you a lot. But I didn’t really know that I missed you?” His voice shakes a little on the last three words. Tobio squints his eyes at the stars until they all run together. “It was like...I kept seeing things that I wanted to tell you about? And I know I texted you about things sometimes, but I couldn’t turn to you and just point something out. And it felt weird. Like in my stomach and stuff! And when I had dinner with Oikawa,” Hinata stops to take a breath. “Well, never mind.”
“What?”
Hinata sighs. “It doesn’t matter.”
He grabs Tobio’s hand out of the sand and holds it in his own. Tobio’s fingers instinctually weave between Hinata’s. He closes his eyes and listens to the gentle drumming of his heart. Hinata’s hand fits well. He gives it a small squeeze.
“I’m glad I’m here,” Tobio says. His eyes are closed, but he knows Hinata is smiling.
They’re quiet for a few minutes after that, the weight of Hinata’s palm in his both keeping his breathing steady and making him want to scream at the sky. He wishes he knew how to say other things, how to tell Hinata he’s waited a very long time for the feeling of his fingers laced around his own.
Hinata finally breaks the silence with a list of all the things he thinks Tobio needs to work on tomorrow. Tobio listens closely and wonders if they’ll go to the public beaches to find a team to play, the way Hinata said he used to do on nights he didn’t have to deliver for the restaurant he worked at.
When Tsukishima shows up at ten o’clock, he towers over them and gestures for them to get up, telling them that it’s time to go back and sleep. If he notices their hands clasped together, he doesn’t say anything.
They make it back to the hotel in just a few minutes and make plans for breakfast in the morning. Tsukishima bids them good night and they head down the hallway. Tobio thinks about catching Hinata’s hand in his own as it swings between them, but he doesn’t.
They get ready for bed in relative silence. Tobio places his phone and glass of water on the nightstand and pulls back the covers of the bed. The sheets seem comfortable enough, if a little stiff, and he gets underneath them and tucks the comforter around himself. He stretches out his legs as far as they’ll go. His muscles already feel a little sore from the sand.
Hinata slides in next to him and tugs on the comforter. Tobio loosens his grip and rolls over to face him. The room is plunged into darkness when Hinata reaches over to tug on the lamp and Tobio blinks a few times to adjust his eyes. Hinata’s emerald green t-shirt shines through the dark.
“Tangerine,” he mumbles.
Hinata rolls over to face him. “Excuse me?”
Tobio gestures to his shirt in response. He thinks Hinata’s cheeks pink a little, but it’s hard to tell in the dark. He stares harder, trying to make out the color of them. He’s always liked the round slope of Hinata’s cheeks, especially the way they look when he smiles, the biggest one, where his eyes close and all you can see are his teeth.
“Kageyama?” Hinata’s voice almost makes him jump. “You’re staring.”
Tobio reaches out and puts his hands on Hinata’s cheeks. They’re soft under his palms. There are no more stars to be seen, but looking into Hinata’s eyes feels the same as staring up at the vast expanse of them with his back flat on the sand of the volleyball court.
“Is this okay?” Tobio asks, and when Hinata nods, he pulls his face forward and kisses him, soft and then harder, until they’re both gasping for air. It doesn’t feel much different to Tobio, the breathlessness. The kissing Hinata and the not-kissing Hinata knock the breath out of his chest all the same.
Hinata takes his hand again and wraps his other arm around Tobio’s back. The second kiss starts out softer than the first and Tobio delicately slides his thumbs on the curves of Hinata’s cheeks. This one stays soft and light and Tobio wants to scream with the way it feels, like he’s kissing light itself and his hand is burning where Hinata’s fingers are pressed against it.
“This is nice.” Hinata laughs against his mouth. “You’re actually not bad.”
Tobio takes that as a challenge — as he takes most things with Hinata — and deepens the kiss. When they finally break apart, Hinata’s eyes are dark and sparkling. They make him feel brave.
“I missed you, too,” Tobio says. “When you were...here.” He swallows his nerves. “And I liked holding your hand.”
Hinata smiles and squeezes his hand. “It only took us coming all the way across the world to admit it. But, I like holding your hand too.”
Tobio throws all self-preservation out the window.
“Do you think we could hold hands for the rest of our lives?”
Hinata’s smile stretches even bigger. He presses a kiss to Tobio’s temple. “Yes, I think we could.”
“And play volleyball?”
Hinata laughs. “You’re dumb, Kageyama Tobio. I was already planning on it.”