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Shouyou wakes up with the first rays of sunlight filtering from the window.
It takes him a moment to realise where he is, not sure if that’s a dream, the one he dreams when he is abroad to play exciting games around the world, which often take him far away from Tobio. However, the body heavily pressed against his own is the answer he needs: An arm is flung on his waist, legs are tangled in his, and a head is buried in the crook of his neck. Tobio has no sense of personal space when it comes down to sleeping with Shouyou—not that he cares anyway—, not minding if the hot summer weather covers them both in sweat, with not even a gentle breeze to help cooling down. Anyways, Shouyou has seen how Tobio sleeps when he isn’t available: Even if Shouyou wasn’t there, Tobio would likely hug his pillow instead and, as much as the view is endearing, Shouyou still prefers to be Tobio’s personal pillow, despite the heat, the sweat and his own comfort—that is, when he doesn’t have some agitated nights, in which he happens to accidentally kick him.
This familiar weight is all it takes for Shouyou to completely shake off the sleepiness that was still clinging on his body and mind.
He hugs Tobio, turning his head to place a soft, loving kiss on Tobio’s hair, inhaling the milky scent of the coconut shampoo his boyfriend uses. It’s too sweet for Shouyou’s taste, but he likes sweet things better when they’re on Tobio’s.
Tobio stretches like a cat beside him and grunts in his sleep, making Shouyou’s heart squeezing with affection.
“Such a sleepyhead,” he murmurs, trying to loosen Tobio’s grip and slipping away. He could have woken him up, but the thing is Tobio isn’t as an early bird as himself, he likes to sleep and Shouyou will let him do it on holidays from time to time, like today.
Before leaving the bed, though, Shouyou takes a minute to watch Tobio’s face, because that’s probably his favourite thing of sleepy Kageyama Tobio: The lips are curled into his brand pout, as if he’s trying to fight the battle between awake and asleep.
Shouyou leans in to brush his thumb on his boyfriend’s forehead, easing the wrinkle between his brows. Tobio’s face slowly relaxes, but his arm twitches, hand closing around nothing, and in his unconsciousness he grabs for the pillow and hugs it against his chest. That’s when Shouyou turns around and exits the room, or else he’ll jump on Tobio and wake him up with kisses, casting the pillow aside. Could someone be jealous of a pillow? Because it feels like a real thing to Shouyou, but for today he’ll let it slide and have the pillow win: He has plans for this morning and will earn to be Tobio’s pillow that night too.
Taking the mat that’s resting beside the door, Shouyou goes outside with his feet bare, he finds his favourite spot for his morning yoga—there, in the fresh shadow of the elm—, and places the mat on the grass. He starts by stretching his muscles with basic poses, then moves to more challenging ones. After thirty minutes or so, he stands up and, while going back inside, he notices there are little dark blue marbles dangling from a bush.
He smiles to himself. This day will be perfect.
Breakfast is almost done, the table ready to welcome two people, with everything already settled down; the only thing that’s missing is Tobio.
As he goes to the bedroom to wake up his prince, Shouyou finds himself almost bumping into Tobio’s chest and lets out a yelp of surprise.
“Gosh, you scared me!”
“Loud,” Tobio lamented in a raspy voice, brushing his left eye with the back of his hand.
Cute, Shouyou has barely the time to think as Tobio leans in, leaving a light kiss on his cheek.
Shouyou narrows his eyes. “What’s that for?”
He knows what’s that for, Tobio’s nose surely has smelled what he is cooking and came out of his dreams and out of the room like a snake called by the charmer.
“Breakfast,” Tobio muttered, and brushed past Shouyou, heading to the kitchen with dragging feet, hunched shoulders and swaying steps.
Shouyou sighs and goes after him, reminding himself to lock the door next time if he wants to sweetly beckoning his boyfriend out of the bed with more than just the breakfast smell.
He finds Tobio stalling in front of the stove where the food is finishing cooking in the pan. He approaches slowly, going on his side and reaching to turn off the hot plate beneath the pan.
Tobio’s eyes are on him as he stirs the content with a spoon, he can feel them,and he knows what’s going to happen next. As soon as he sets down the spoon, Tobio takes his hand and makes him step between the countertop and himself, Shouyou’s back pressing against his bare chest, face turned toward the window that opens on the garden.
Tobio rests his chin on top of Shouyou’s head, while his arms hug his frame.
Shouyou smiles, thumbing at Tobio’s arms. “Wait to taste it. What if I made it too salty again?”
“Don’t mind.”
“Liar,” he says with a laugh. “You yelled at me to never try again if I wasn’t even able to dose the salt.”
“And you still put up with me.” Tobio shifts slightly, now resting his cheek on Shouyou’s red hair.
“You baka, of course I do!” Shouyou exclaims and turns in Tobio’s embrace to face him and pinch his cheek between thumb and index finger. “As if there’s another way.”
It is kind of easy to make Kageyama Tobio blush, even though it’s been years since they got together, and sometimes Shouyou wonders if his only existence is enough to make him shy, like when he found Tobio staring at him, his cheeks flushed to a cute shade of pink. However, he usually doesn’t like to show it, since Shouyou tends to tease him about it, so this time too he shoves Shouyou’s face away while grunting a ‘Shut up’.
That’s okay, it’s not as if he hasn’t seen any weaker sides of Tobio, and he still has the teasing.
“Oh, sure, the mighty Kageyama Tobio can’t expose his feelings,” Shouyou scoffs and swiftly steps aside to dodge Tobio’s arm who was probably trying to give him a noogie or something painful anyway. Instead, he snucks behind him and swats Tobio’s ass. “Now go sit, or breakfast will cool down.”
Tobio complies, but shoots a glare at Shouyou from above his shoulder. “You like skinship even more after being on the Brazilian team.”
Shouyou chuckles as he starts filling their plates before putting them down on the table, one in front of Tobio and the other by his seat. “As if Italians on your team don’t swat your ass or hug you on every occasion. Should I be jealous?”
However, Tobio isn’t looking at him anymore, his focus entirely on the pork curry, on the egg carefully topped on the meat, the gravy slowly slipping toward the white rice on the side, colouring the rice grains.
Despite already knowing his ritual before dipping the spoon in the plate and take the first bite, Shouyou can’t stop himself from feeling trepidation and a warm sensation spreading from his chest to his toes and arms in circular waves. After looking at the food, Tobio leans in to inhale deeply with his eyes closed, and he has sensed something he likes, because a little smile lifts up the corners of his lips, and Shouyou begins to hope this time he made it.
Then, Tobio picks up the chopsticks and probes the texture of the pork and the egg. Again, Shouyou’s heart flips in his chest. Maybe, just maybe…
The last step is to taste it. Tobio puts down the chopsticks and takes the spoon instead, scooping up a bit of rice, a piece of pork and a generous amount of gravy, then he brings it to his mouth and—
His eyes are shut close in bliss, tears rolling down Tobio’s cheeks while he savours the food, munching and swallowing.
Shouyou considers for a moment to look away, because it is as if Tobio is chasing after a memory, a precious one Shouyou isn’t entirely sure he should witness to, but then he is leaning over the table to brush Tobio’s tears away, indulging to caress his cheeks, and when he sits back on his chair, a pair of night blue eyes is watching him.
“How is it?” Shouyou asks, realising his voice is a bit raspy and coughs to regain steadiness.
“Perfect,” Tobio answers, his voice affected by emotions too, but his smile growing bigger and bigger, looking down at his breakfast and eagerly taking another bite.
Pleased with himself, Shouyou puts his feet on Tobio’s as usual under the table, and picks at his pork too.
“I also picked up some blueberries from the garden,” he says, pointing out at the little bowl on the side with his chopsticks.
“It’s not my birthday.”
“So what? I don’t need a reason to cocoon you,” Shouyou remarks, sticking out his tongue, but what he really wants to say is that every day had a good reason for him to make his prince feel loved, because that’s exactly what Tobio does with him too.
Tobio doesn’t reply nor look at him, he just slides one of his feet from under Shouyou’s and hooks one of his legs instead.
If someone had asked him how he would imagine his relationship with Tobio about ten year ago, Shouyou wouldn’t have been able to get close to today’s truth. They aren’t perfect, but to his eyes, those quick looks over the dining table, their legs always tangling, prodding and kicking under the table, words not always spoken but always heard by the other, all of this is what Shouyou misses the most when they are apart.
He smiles, taking the next spoon of food, humming contently when Tobio smiles back.
Once breakfast is over, they go to wash the dishes together, with Brazilian music playing in the background, Shouyou swaying his hips while passing Tobio the soaped dishes, and Tobio taking them with a disapproving glare that is more a facade than a serious one. In fact, it doesn’t take long for Tobio to steal a quick kiss when Shouyou opens his mouth to ask him to bring over the pan. Shouyou grins and sways his hips more, after, even bumping it with Tobio’s.
“Stop that, you’re ridiculous,” Tobio grunts, but he doesn’t successfully hide the laugh that’s blooming in his chest.
“Liaaaar,” Shouyou chants, dragging the vowel and daubling suds on Tobio’s jaw. “You simply don’t want to be seduced when we have a house to clean.”
That’s exactly the reason why he should stop teasing Tobio, since they invited over their Karasuno senpais to a barbecue lunch in the garden. However, it comes natural to him to just do that.
“What—you dumbass!” Tobio shouts, but instead of cleaning himself, he pays Shouyou back in kind, smearing white suds on his cheek.
“Are you really starting this, Yama-Yama?” he smirks, lifting his hand to make clear that he would backfire.
“You said it yourself, we have things to do,” he said, the suds wobbling at the movements of his jaw.
“Well, the sooner we start, the sooner we can get to other things, I suppose?” Shouyou winks and Tobio’s ears turn red.
They’re sitting on the floor, polishing all the medals and the trophies they got through the years. Each of them has their own shelf in the living room, so it’s easier to count them. For now, there’s no much use, since from a single glance one can see Tobio’s are more than Shouyou’s, but he is confident he’ll keep up soon. Every one of them brings back memories they are never tired of talking about or to listen to, but that’s not the only reason for the housecleaning.
Shouyou and Tobio’s mothers are very good at keeping their house tidy when their sons are not around, and it’s just been two days since they came back, but cleaning has become a ritual for Shouyou and Tobio: Doing so helps them to settle in more easily, it helps perceiving that as their home. Even though Shouyou well knows that his home is Tobio and wherever he is, he also needed a place to call their own, somewhere they can come back from abroad to spend holidays together in a familiar ground.
The trophies are the most personal things they have around for the moment, so this cleaning ritual is like bonding to the house, imprinting their personalities, carving themselves in the foundations, in the walls and furniture. Sometimes their parents stopped by to drop household items they bought or the time when they brought in a frame with a family portrait to put on the wall, “or I won’t come pay visits if your house becomes just a volleyball temple,” Miwa had said one day, so now it rests on the wall above the TV—and Shouyou is often distracted by it, entranced by the perfection of the happiness on everyone face.
Though, sometimes he feels silly and doesn’t know what he is doing, or, more precisely, he wonders if that’s how Tobio sees things too.
“Hey, Tobio,” Shouyou calls him, dropping the cloth.
Tobio doesn’t even look at him, too focused on rubbing the rag on a particularly thin groove in the metal. “Mm?”
“Are you feeling at home here?”
“Yep.”
Still, his eyes won’t meet Shouyou’s, so he presses on, “Aren’t you even going to look up?”
Tobio puts down the trophy he was scrubbing clean, but he just does so to pick up another one and start over again. “Nope,” it’s all he says.
He is trying to read Tobio’s tone at least, but there’s nothing to grasp there either. “Why?”
“You’ll distract me,” Tobio replies, but that’s when he lifts his head and faces Shouyou. “I like to dream about this place when we’re not here, and when I do, you’re always here too. I belong wherever you are, but this home really feels like ours.”
A lump suddenly forms in Shouyou’s throat. “Are you sure I’m the one who distracts you and not the other way around? I feel like I could kiss you right now.”
Tobio laughs, but he doesn’t have the time to say anything, because their phones buzz simultaneously, abandoned on the floor. They look at each other for a moment before going to see who’s texted them, supposing it’s one of their guests writing on the group chat, but the checking leaves the both of them equally surprised.
“It’s your mom,” Hinata informs.
“Uh? It’s your mom, too,” Tobio says, brows furrowed.
Now they are both suspicious. In general, Shouyou doesn’t hear much from his mother-in-law when they’re both in Miyagi prefecture, in their brand new home. It happens more frequently during the rest of the year, when their parents come and go to keep everything clean, to check if everything is in place in the house, and then reporting things to Shouyou and Tobio. Once they’re settled in it, though, there’s no reason for them to come, if not as guests under Shouyou and Tobio’s invitation and usually text to their respective sons.
“Are they up to something?” Shouyou asks, more to himself than to Tobio in particular.
“Or maybe they’re just sending over more pics of us when we were little,” Tobio suggested.
That could be true, too. Shouyou knows all too well that when Mrs Kageyama misses his son greatly, she would go up to find all baby Tobio’s pics and send them to him.
“Look how cute he was back then!”
“Don’t you think his pout is ever the same?”
“Don’t tell him I showed you this one, alright?” (Attached, there was an old photo of Tobio sprawled on the bed, naked and gnawing at his own foot. It made Shouyou’s heart melt, but he also wondered why that kind of photos were so popular amongst parents.)
Shouyou finds the entire thing extremely endearing, since that’s not so different from what he does when he misses his boyfriend and can’t call him: He opens his phone gallery and starts to stare at the pics they’ve taken together for ours. And, apparently, his own mother seems to do the same with Tobio.
After exchanging one last look, they read the text on their phone.
“Mine says: ‘Living room. Open the drawer on the right’,” Tobio reads out loud.
Shouyou watches Tobio in silence before saying, “Mine says to open the left one…”
So, the two have been up to something, after all!
They slide on the floor, careful of not smacking any trophies, and near the hutch where the TV stands and where the drawers are, excited as two little boys about to dig a pirate treasure from the ground. They grab the handles and push open the drawers at the same time. Inside, there is an envelope each: The Shouyou one has written on one side, “To my son-in-law Shouyou-kun”; the Tobio one says, “To my son-in-law Tobio-kun”.
“What’s this about?” Shouyou exclaims, impatient as ever and all hyped up.
“I don’t know, it seems serious,” Tobio replies. “Let’s check it out!”
When they open the envelope, they take out a pair of gift voucher tickets for flights from Rio to Rome and vice versa, and a piece of paper.
“Since last year was hard on the both of you, we wanted to give you one more chance for you two to meet. Whenever you feel you unbearably miss him, just fly there and hug him for us too. We love you both,
Kageyama Ryuji, Ayano and Miwa”
That’s what is written in Shouyou’s letter, and he has no doubt Tobio’s is similar to his, except for the people who signed it—probably in Tobio’s letter, besides Shouyou’s mother, there is Natsu’s name too. His eyes meet Tobio’s and neither of them know what to say, so they do the only thing that’s possible: They hug each other, oh so tightly that the breath is cut short in their lungs, with letters and tickets still held in their hands. The angle is a bit wrong, since they’re both still sitting on the floor, but Shouyou’s leap had a bit too much enthusiasm that almost made them topple over the trophies and medals.
But in that moment Shouyou doesn’t care—or wouldn’t if that didn’t mean for Tobio’s back to be possibly stabbed by his own trophies—, and Tobio seems to understand Shouyou unintelligible mutters in his ears, because he makes some space for them to safely stay and rests his back against the sofa.
Shouyou cradles on Tobio’s lap and whispers, “I love your family so much.”
One of Tobio’s hands goes up and down Shouyou’s spine. “I love yours too.”
Shouyou moves away just a little, just what it needs him to look Tobio in the eyes and cup his face. “But you know who I love the most.”
“I have a feeling.”
And that’s all it takes for Shouyou to kiss him. For some reason, it feels bigger than anything else that happened before, competing on the court, sneaking kisses when they could around the world, but having a place to turn to together, and having the utter support of their families.
Shouyou looks into Tobio’s eyes and all he sees is a calming blue, despite being the same colour of the universe or the one of deep ocean’s waters, both intriguing but concealing their secrets, and Shouyou wants to be the owner of them all, their only guardian.
“My prince,” Shouyou lets it slip his mouth, under his breath.
“What?”
He has never called Tobio like that out loud, he only did so in his mind and now it feels embarrassing to explain himself.
“It’s just… I don’t know, but I feel like it suits you better than king, at least in our private life,” Shouyou tries, suddenly very interested in smoothing the papers he still holds in his hands.
Tobio brings down Shouyou’s hands to make him look at him. “What do you mean?”
“King it’s okay for when you are bossy—”
“I’m not bossy—”
“Yes you are, and stop that!” He interrupts before Tobio can interject again, pinching his lips shut. “Prince… it just makes you more… within my reach.”
“I’m here,” Tobio says, placing one of Shouyou’s hands—with paper and all—on his beating heart.
“Yeah, but a king is supposed to rule while the prince is just below, he’s still regal but doesn’t have to rule yet, so it means one could still pamper him a little. That’s why you’re my prince to me, so I can take care of you too.”
Shouyou says it all at once, fearing he would stutter otherwise, and just as he finishes, he feels Tobio’s hand gripping his wrist harder.
“What if I don’t want to be pampered?”
There’s a gleam in his eyes, passing so fast that it seemed like a shooting star crossing the galaxy, and Shouyou knows that following it he would find the best treasure of all.
“Ah, now you don’t?”
And without any further hesitation, he leans in and kisses him again, this time not holding back, after all, he never said he was always going to pamper him. He takes Tobio by the nape, fingers interweaving with silky black locks, bringing him closer, claiming his lips.
When they part to take a breath, Tobio looks down, forehead against Shouyou’s, and notices something. “Maybe we should put the vouchers down… before we rip them.”
Indeed, the voucher was all curled up in Shouyou’s hand with a fist of Tobio’s t-shirt too.
“Oops,” Shouyou laughs nervously for how much Tobio always makes him feel drunk whenever they kiss. “We should turn back to our cleaning too, maybe.”
He begins to lift himself from Tobio’s lap, when Tobio stops him with a hand on his tight and says, unexpectedly, “Thank you for never giving up on me.”
Shouyou smiles. “I’d do it all again.”
So no one should claim it’s Shouyou’s fault if he starts to demonstrate the truth there was in his words.