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There’s a certain chemistry between a hitter and a setter on the court; it’s almost necessary for successful gameplay. Timing, communication, connection, familiarity. The moment the ball connects with the setter’s hands, both parties must be in complete understanding for a spike to work through perfectly.
Sapnap and George have that.
They always have; they’ve played together since they met on an academy team in sixth grade. Sapnap, being the funny kid who everyone assumed (with his speed, footwork, diving skill, and unfortunate height) would be going for the position of libero, but with his impressive vertical, had his iron sights on being a hitter ; and George, the boy who knew the science of a perfect set down by 13 years old, met on that little academy team and watched each other grow in skill and in age, tightening their bond along the years.
“You ready to play?” The brunet sitting in the passenger seat asks, scrolling through his phone as Sapnap drives them to their next game.
Sapnap smiles, shaking his head softly. “Against this team? Never. Have you heard about their new hitter?” George says no, and the raven continues. “He's, like, insanely good. Pretty sure he had an athletic scholarship, and he played nationals for a while.”
“Well, we’ve played nationals, too.” George says. “He can’t be that much better if he’s in the same league as us.”
“Maybe.” Sapnap says. “I’ve just heard insanely good things about him.”
Sapnap is setting up the padding on one of the net poles at the gym when he’s interrupted, only to discover this new, insanely good player turned out to be a real pain in the ass.
“Hey, I don’t mean to be weird, but your setter - is he with anyone?”
Sapnap is taken aback at the sudden speech, turning around to find a tall blond tapping his shoulder, seemingly embarrassed. “Sorry?”
“Well I saw you guys talking, do you know if he’s single?” He asks again, staring intently at Sapnap. “I’m Dream, by the way.”
He’s an attractive man; Sapnap can recognize something as simple as that. With a clean shave; nice, slightly untamed, blond hair (not like Sapnap can say anything about untamed hair); and soothing, nice green eyes.
Sapnap looks straight at his chest to find the number 9 branded in thick black letters on a green jersey. That’s when Sapnap realizes: he’s the opponent in their next match, the hitter with an athletic scholarship.
“Why do you ask?” Sapnap cocks a brow, taking a defensive stance with his arms crossed at his chest.
“Well,” He starts. “He’s cute, and I was going to ask if he wanted to go out with me sometime.”
Sapnap pauses at that. He’d never considered that George would start going out with anyone - not in any bad way, of course; with George’s looks, it’s nearly guaranteed he could pull anyone he wants - but simply because he doesn’t really talk to anyone. For being such a high energy, attractive, nosy man, he’s extremely reserved.
Sapnap is one of the few people that have ever really gotten to know George, and Sapnap would be a liar if he ever claimed he hadn’t been infatuated with the brunet since he’d first gotten to truly know him; whatever feelings he’d developed only growing and persistently tormenting him throughout the years they’d known eachother.
And in the past few months, Sapnap had been beginning to assume George felt something similar - their situation became more sticky and tangled in the complications of feelings for each other and fear of losing something they’d grown over the years over wrongly assumed feelings, rejection, or unhappy endings.
Sapnap hates the thought of George with somebody else.
“No - well, yes - but I’ve kinda, like, been into him for a few years.” Sapnap says, a light tint of rose finding itself home on his cheekbones.
He raises his eyebrows. “So he is single?”
“Well, yeah, but-”
“So, you’re telling me you want me to not talk to him because you can’t make a move?”
Sapnap scowled. Okay, so he’s just a dickhead. “I was waiting for a good time to tell him.”
“Right.” Dream says again. “You don’t have to defend yourself with me, some people are just meant to be cowards.”
“I’m sorry ?” Sapnap rolls his eyes so hard they just might roll off his face. “I don’t have to defend myself.” Sapnap simply puts, still in a state of shock at the last comment. “You just don’t know him. He wouldn’t be interested in you anyways.”
The player seems taken aback by that comment, as if it’s the first time anyone has taken a jab at his ego before.
“Fine.” The blond takes a step closer, and Sapnap can almost taste the challenge radiating off of him. He has to look up at the taller as he draws nearer. “The winner of the next match asks out George.”
What is his problem? Sapnap doesn’t think; all logic is lost to the gas line of pure irritation at the blond coiling up his spine. It blazes up in flames, and he gives is answer:
“Deal.”
---
“Out!” Sapnap calls as he watches George receive a pass and set it up, the ball flying over to the raven. Right before he jumps, he catches a glimpse of the man in middle-front in front of him, that bastard, Dream, and he begins to process his choices mid-air.
Sapnap knows he can maneuver the angle of his current aim (for right back), but he knows it’s a risk. He’s trained his spikes to hit weak spots in the back row, and Dream isn’t in the back nor weak at all. Not to mention the form of his arm and his jump has to be significantly stronger to maneuver mid-air and still achieve a successful hit.
Sapnap swings, angling his body further and tasting the risk as the hit flies off into the blond’s platform and he shanks it.
They come together and cheer, and Sapnap feels as if he could become addicted to that feeling, watching the blond face failure at the hands of Sapnap himself, so he tries that angle again at his next opportunity. He turns back to the net to find fury furrowed into his brows.
The blond is more prepared now, the front row hit doesn’t shank next time and instead flies somewhat near right-front, allowing the setter to get to it and set it back to right-back, sending it spiked back. It’s volleyed back somewhat easily and the opponents make a stupid mistake to let it drop.
The team comes together in the middle to cheer for another point. During their following rally, George tips it over on his set, then again with the front row hit from Sapnap when given the opportunity, which was received well. They still win the rally point and huddle together for their cheer and George pulls Sapnap’s arm firmly.
“Change up your aim.” He commands quietly. “Quit aiming for 9, or I’m only middle setting from now on.”
Sapnap thinks about it, but eventually nods reluctantly.
They continue rallying until a 24-25, but the other team gains the final point and wins the set.
Sapnap must have displayed his upset too much, because as the team talked and hydrated, George pulled the raven aside once more.
“What is up with you?” The brunet questioned firmly. “You’re playing weird.”
The raven shakes it off, ignoring his own unusually faulty gameplay and the brunet’s comment, entering the next set without a second thought. The only thing consuming his mind is that stupid bet and everything on the line.
On the line. Sapnap takes a step back before serving, realizing that his feet were much too close to the line and he would have certainly been called for a foot-fault if he had served from where he was.
He takes a deep breath as he bounces the ball on the ground and spins it in his palms, trying to relax himself before serving the ball and starting the set; but when he looks up from the ball in his hands, all he sees is that stupid tall shithead and the bet and how mad he is that he would even have the audacity to say everything he did -
And before he can even register it, the ball is in the air, his hand flies, and he hits the ball wrong - the serve goes into the net just by the current left-front.
Sapnap’s nearly blinded by his own anger when a sub is called, and suddenly the hard material of the bench is pressed up against his sweaty thighs, the coach ordering advice. He feels his head pound as he watches the match continue without him, not being able to remember the last time he was subbed out in the second set . It’s embarrassing, to say the least.
He watches on the side as his team does great without him; and he can’t honestly say it doesn’t hurt. Sure, he knew they could easily play without him, but with him being the best hitter and having the best collaboration with his setter, he thought they’d have at least a little struggle without him. They seem to fall into their own rhythm, however, and all with Sapnap just watching.
They win the second set, then the third, and Sapnap is put back in the starting rotation for the fourth, with it being such a difficult game and their strongest opponent yet. Their team loses the fourth, and then it’s all down to the fifth and final set of the night. Sapnap can’t remember the last time they went to five sets, and his legs may be sore and his arms like jelly at this point, but he’s ready to get into his headspace and crush them for the final set point.
Their final score is 25-21, with the winning point being an unreturned spike from Sapnap, acted out only with the help of a beautiful set from George.
Sapnap isn’t quite sure why but in the rush of the win, he hugs George; and for maybe the first time since they met, George hugs back with no trace of tense muscles. Sapnap smiles and appreciates the brief moment shared before George pulls him away by the shoulders and scowls.
“Why were you being so weird?” He questions harshly. “Don’t ever do that again, you almost cost us the game.” He says with another shake of his shoulders.
Sapnap just smiled, opening his mouth to explain but closed it again when the realization of the context bloomed warm pink on his cheeks.
“I made a bet with that asshole 9.”
“The one you kept aiming for during the first sets?” George cocks an eyebrow. “About what?”
“It was nothing important, just-”
“ No, ” George orders with a bright smile. “Tell me.”
Sapnap rolls his eyes, but smiles at the joyous glint in George’s dark eyes and the creases that appear in his skin when he smiles.
“I made a bet,” Sapnap starts, “That whoever won the match would get to ask you out.”
George’s brows furrow now, and he seems hesitant about his choice of next words with the red tint they now both share. “So- what?”
Sapnap laughs and swallows any last fear of wrongly assumed feelings, rejection, or unhappy endings he’d been holding onto for the last few years. As he looks the brunet directly in his deep, umber eyes, he can’t imagine the risks any more; he only sees George. “That was me saying I want to be your boyfriend, if you couldn’t tell.”
George smiles. “You finally say something when I’m all sweaty from a stupid match that we almost lost because of you ?” He punctuates the last word with a poke at Sapnap’s chest.
“ Finally ?” Sapnap’s jaw drops slightly in a surprised smile. “You’ve been waiting?”
“Yes, obviously I’ve been waiting.” George playfully rolls his eyes. “I thought I was being obvious; you definitely were.”
“I hate you.” He jokes, and although he’s disgusting and sweaty and gross and played terribly, he’s happy. “Just to be clear, that was a yes, right?”
George nods. “Yes, you’re so dumb.”
The new couple are about to walk out the gym doors when number 9 catches up to them, lightly grabbing Sapnap’s arm to stop him. Sapnap turns around to face him, and despite losing the match and the bet, he’s smiling for some reason.
“I’m guessing you finally did it?”
Sapnap smiles proudly at the taller boy. “Yeah. I probably never would have said anything if it weren’t for your cocky ass.”
Dream blushes ever-so-slightly, and if Sapnap hadn’t been staring so intently at him, he would have never noticed. The brunet is quiet and says nothing, so Sapnap fills the silence once more with what they’d all been thinking, but been too scared to voice. “For the record,” He starts, “I wouldn’t be opposed to trying out a three-person date.”
George seems to be shocked at the proposition, but with the soft, smiling look he displays on his face, he doesn’t seem to be opposed either. A quiet, “Me neither.” is all he says.
The people passing by seem to slowly lesser in numbers as they talk, exchange numbers, and figure everything out. They make a plan to all talk soon before George and Sapnap walk to the car together, holding hands and giggling as they discuss the possible upcoming date with their new acquaintance.