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“Kageyama!”
The loud sound of the drawn-out syllables of his name cuts through the fog of cigarette smoke as soon as Tobio steps across the izakaya’s threshold and grimaces. Shortly, he spots a blur of vibrant hair bobbing up and down below an enthusiastically waving arm. This was the only izakaya near campus and, as a result, was consistently crammed far beyond its capacity with students in addition to regulars on Friday nights. Hinata beams at him as he sees Tobio make his way through the crowd. He nods in acknowledgment, now only a few feet away from the cubicle Hinata and his company occupies. Tobio had immediately made out that Hinata was surrounded by his friends, so he wasn’t sure what Hinata’s reception would be like. He can easily conjure up Hinata’s flushed face in his mind, shaking with disapproval at something Tobio invariably did but at the same time hiding a grin behind his hands. Adorable. It had only been a few weeks since they’d gotten together, and while Tobio is perfectly content to let Hinata set the pace on whether Hinata wants to or whenever he thinks is the right time to tell their friends—there are no reservations or opinions about either choice on his part—Tobio has no real sense of when he is expected to ‘not be obvious’—whatever that means.
Hinata hadn’t actually told him he was going out with friends. After much back-and-forth earlier in the evening on what was the proper way to spend a Friday night now that they were a couple, Hinata had left him to file his nails in peace. Tobio didn’t mind. He does not need to know every minute detail of Hinata’s doings, even if he sometimes is secretly jealous of the time others spend with Hinata—which is ridiculous considering how, outside of a few classes, the two of them practically spend all of their sleeping and waking moments together.
The izakaya is really the last place Tobio wants to be in tonight. This new development in his relationship with Hinata hadn’t significantly altered his life otherwise. There was no sense of a loss of something that had kept Tobio up late into the nights back when he had resigned himself to longing for Hinata in silence. In fact, the understanding between them had intensified in increasingly welcome ways. The only pitfall of the change was Tobio’s morning training routine, which he had cultivated for almost twenty years. It was after a long time that he was expecting to finally get in some early practice—hopefully, with Hinata. A detour hence meant not only a delay in their joint schedule but also the prospect of having to make small talk with people he did not know irritated him deeply.
It had come as no surprise to Tobio when Hinata had inserted himself into a variety of social circles as early as their first semester in college together. People were always drawn to Hinata. Tobio knows this intimately. He has known it since their high school days. People from Hinata’s class Tobio doesn’t care to know, people from their team, people in other sports clubs who tossed laughably, and even random frisbee players around campus. Hinata was always invited to things, and by extension, so was Tobio—but Tobio had been to exactly one party, and he’d spent the whole time sitting in a corner, feeling like he was trying to solve an especially difficult test question.
“You came!”
Tobio is relieved to find only Yachi and Yamaguchi at Hinata’s table. But it is short-lived as both of them give him identically apologetic looks—although, to be fair, they always looked like that. Tobio greets them and reaches into the pocket of his hoodie.
“You wanted me to.” He unlocks his phone and holds up Hinata’s flurry of messages to his face. Hinata squints at it for a long moment.
“Yeah, well.” Tobio can tell he tries not to grin too hard, but it is hopeless.
Tobio wasn’t planning on crashing his night out, even when he received multiple texts from an obviously drunk Hinata in a row about everything from what Hinata was drinking to which kouhais and senpais ‘Yacchan’ and ‘Yams’ speculated to be dating. But then Hinata had sent some messages clearly intended for someone else—wHr r u????? before finally texting KAGEYAM HLP—and the confusion from Hinata had Tobio worried. What if Hinata’s friends were gone? What if something happened to the idiot? What if? So, Tobio had pulled on his hoodie without bothering to change out of the sweatpants he intended to go to bed in and hailed a taxi to Hinata’s location. Yachi had helpfully installed the Find Your Device app on Hinata’s phone after he’d managed to lose two phones in as many years.
When Tobio is close enough, Hinata slides up to a half-sitting, half-standing position from his seat and grabs the hem of Tobio’s hoodie to support himself. Tobio is yanked forward, but he easily manages to brace himself against the wooden frame of the cubicle and the table.
“Kageyama-kun…” he says softly, staring at Tobio’s mouth. There is that same suggestive edge to his voice reserved for more private moments. Yamaguchi loudly clears his throat at the same time as Tobio frees himself of Hinata’s grip and pulls at his wrist.
“Let’s go,” Tobio says, attempting to pry the dangerously tipped glass out of Hinata’s other hand. Hinata seems to hold onto it with all of his considerable strength. “Hinata,” he warns.” We have early practice.”
“Do we really?” That seems to sober him up for a moment. And before Tobio can answer, Hinata leans in and winks, utterly unconcerned with lowering his voice, “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“D-Dumbass,” Tobio replies faintly, face flushing with heat.
“But I’m having fun,” Hinata whines. Mercifully, Yachi has managed to seize Hinata’s glass while he was distracted. Tobio reminds himself to thank her later.
“I’ll drive you back,” Yamaguchi volunteers, studiously avoiding looking at either Hinata or him in their eyes. Tobio thinks it is incredibly generous, all considering. He gives a quick bow in their general direction before pulling Hinata out of the cubicle.
“Let’s go!” Tobio exclaims, maneuvering Hinata down the narrow aisle between the patrons. The izakaya was already a tiny hole-in-the-wall affair, and the jostling crowd makes it harder for them to move as Tobio attempts to drag an unsteady Hinata towards the exit.
“One more, To-bi-o. Once again, To-bi-o.” Hinata’s disembodied chant reaches him around the man who abruptly cuts through between their joined hands. “Please,” comes his muffled plea a moment later, pressed into the edge of Tobio’s shoulder when Hinata is shoved bodily against him. Hinata tilts his face up to look at Tobio, eyes flashing. His cheeks are tinted, face bright with earnestness. Hinata is really…
“No.”
“Meanie-yama!”
Not for the first time, Tobio is reminded of the blooming power in Hinata’s own muscled body when he refuses to budge. Even as he sways unsteadily, his feet remain firmly planted on the ground. Tobio huffs, and Hinata grins at him before reaching through the line of people at the bar counter to grab a tumbler and down its contents in one large gulp. Tobio watches with alarm and makes a quick decision, albeit a risky one.
Swiftly, he hands the host the due amount, apologizing profusely, and bends down to wrap his arms around the back of Hinata’s thighs to lift him squarely over his shoulder. As he pushes through the mass of bodies, Tobio prays that Hinata’s upside-down position or the fact that he keeps squawking indignantly doesn’t actually cause him to puke on the floor; he thinks back to Hinata’s track record with drinking and tempers his expectations accordingly. Hinata’s initial surprise has morphed into uncontrolled giggling as Tobio hurries through the crowd, out the door, and plants him by the passenger door of Yamaguchi’s car.
Yamaguchi, bless him, is already waiting for them inside. Tobio hears the master lock unclick when Yamaguchi spots them, and Tobio has to pull Hinata away from the door by his waist before he can hold it open for them to scoot inside.
“Thanks,” Tobio mutters sincerely, relief flooding his body. Yamaguchi only nods at him with a pained smile. For the second time tonight, Tobio has the impression that he’s missing the point on something.
“Thank you, Tadashi-san!” Hinata booms beside him, parroting Tobio while clinging onto his arm.
“Don’t worry about it!” Yamaguchi is eager to reassure, glancing toward the backseat and quickly turning away—Hinata is fiddling with the zipper on Tobio’s hoodie. Yamaguchi dutifully passes them a paper bag, nervously muttering under his breath. Something about puking and his car stereo. He reaches back without looking to press something behind his seat. A darkly tinted partition rises up to separate them.
Tobio has just begun to form a question around what or why and partition at Yamaguchi’s vague silhouette when Hinata climbs onto his lap.
“Hinata,” Tobio exclaims a few seconds too late. “What the hell.”
It is futile. Hinata has already caught onto the beginnings of the erection Tobio’s been nursing for a while now. Hinata’s lips cling sloppily to his neck, sucking, biting, relentless. His hands slip under the layers of Tobio’s clothes, groping his chest, eager fingers roaming over his abdomen, and he lets out a low groan that goes straight to Tobio’s dick.
“Shouyou—”
“I love it when you get all bossy with me.”
Tobio chokes on his next words. Hinata likes what?
“I-I’ve never told you this, but it’s so hot when you take control—” Hinata pauses, frowning in thought. His casually spoken words twists in Tobio’s belly in a sharp pang of desire. “Not on the court—you’re really annoying then, but when we’re like this—” he grinds against Tobio. “I’m like, gwaaah—You’re so hot, Kageyama.”
“We’re in public,” Tobio gasps. He can barely hear himself over the thunder of his pulse in his ears. All the rationality that strictly governs Tobio’s life is dangerously close to dissolving. The leather upholstery creaks as Hinata grinds down on him. For a moment, Tobio forgets poor Yamaguchi, forgets his crippling fear of public affection, and impulsively slips his hands up the back of Hinata’s t-shirt and pulls him forward. Hinata’s lips taste sharply of alcohol, but underneath it, the clean scent of their shared detergent mixed with Hinata’s spicy cologne rises up like a cloud from his freshly laundered clothes. Tobio drinks in the heat from Hinata’s mouth. He feels the warmth of skin against his fingertips and revels in the solid sense of Hinata’s weight on his lap. Hinata bites his lower lip.
“Ten minutes,” Tobio hisses, pulling away and managing to wrap his hands atop Hinata’s to stop his fumbling fingers, which have now found the waistband of his joggers. He’s not the most graceful, but he moves quickly and with determination.
“What?” Hinata sits back on his lap, slightly disheveled and glaring. Cute. Still very much intent on undoing Tobio’s drawstrings.
“Till we’re home.”
Hinata opens his mouth to protest and is interrupted by the loud vibration from Tobio’s pocket. Tobio tries to push Hinata back into his seat, attempting to reach his phone, but Hinata clings onto his shoulders. A struggle ensues. Tobio succeeds in shifting Hinata off his lap and uses an arm to hold him in place. He retrieves his phone just as he misses the call. For a brief moment, Hinata is quiet as Tobio watches him settle down beside him. It’s doubly amusing when he thinks back to how even a year ago, Hinata would blush to say the word ‘sex’ aloud. Now here he was, drunk in the back of someone else’s car, talking in a way that Tobio was sure would earn him a scolding for being vulgar. Tobio has a few seconds of peace when he responds to the worried missed calls from Yachi. But as soon as he’s done, Hinata is back at it.
“I thought about you all the time,” Hinata’s words are slightly slurred, but Tobio can hear everything perfectly, “Way before we started doing stuff, you know?” He’s curious what Hinata has to say. Hinata’s never shy about what he wants in the bedroom, but any trace of nerves Hinata is prone to display has receded entirely under the influence. But he also doesn’t wish for Yamaguchi to overhear and possibly crash his car. “I wanted you so much. Your hands touching me, holding me down, y’know—doing me on the nearest surface.”
Tobio lowers the window beside him to let the sound escape unnoticed into the city’s traffic.
“I know you’re weird about being careful and all, but—” Hinata leans to press against Tobio’s side, his breath ghosts over Tobio’s cheek. “Sometimes, I just want you to give it to me.” Hinata sighs wistfully as if his dream will never come true. “Fuck me till I beg you to stop.”
“Hinata,” Tobio warns, his voice has grown thick and unwieldy. Hinata moans softly in response and shifts restlessly in his seat, thrusting against Tobio’s arm.
“Kageyama,” Hinata gasps, and Tobio risks a glance over to him to see that he has the palm of his hand pressed between his legs. The car halts suddenly, and they both jolt forward, Hinata’s hips pushing forward against Tobio’s arm. He moans louder this time, clamping his smaller hands on top of Tobio’s arm and securing it. Tobio feels the hard ridge of Hinata’s erection and the warmth emanating from behind his pants.
“Moron, you’re drunk,” Tobio agonizes. He tries to calculate the remaining distance to their shared apartment. It’s only a few minutes now. He just has to survive until then.
“Want your cock, Tobio, please,” Hinata is thoroughly grinding against Tobio’s hand now. His eyes are closed, mouth slack, and his other hand brushes Tobio’s thigh. Tobio grabs it before it can reach its destination.
“Later,” he grunts, “don't be gross,” and Hinata whines again.
“Kageyama, you idiot! When I’m sober, I’m not gonna ask you like this,” he says; the insult sends a funny pang of desire to Tobio's belly. He is surprised at the amount of self-awareness for how out of it Hinata seems. “Pr—shit,” Hinata’s free hand forcefully grips Tobio’s forearm as he presses against his palm with all of his strength. “Promise me you won’t forget.”
Promise. Tobio thinks, unable to take his eyes off Hinata. He knows he can’t forget this moment for the rest of his life, especially as Hinata forgoes waiting for Tobio’s response and impatiently chases pleasure on his own. Over the gentle tickle of bright hair that curls beneath Tobio’s chin, Tobio watches Hinata’s back arch off the seat to press furiously against his palm—he hasn’t even unzipped his jeans. Tobio exhales shakily into Hinata’s hair. They are making the familiar turn into the main entrance’s driveway when Tobio tosses a panicked glance up to the front. Yamaguchi stops the car to park at the same time as Hinata comes, a string of curses falling softly from his mouth.
“Idiot,” Tobio says without heat. “You made a mess, didn’t you?” The innuendo in his own question takes Tobio by surprise and makes him blush. Hinata only nods lazily in response. He goes about climbing across Tobio’s lap and tucking his face into the crook of his neck. Hinata’s body sags heavily against him.
When Yamaguchi helpfully holds the door open for them, his resolute expression shows no sign of surprise even when he finds Hinata barely awake and hanging onto Tobio—once again, Tobio silently acknowledges Ennoshita-san’s rightful successor. Tobio lets out a long-suffering sigh, thanks Yamaguchi again, mentally promises to treat him to dinner and carries Hinata upstairs. In the next fifteen minutes, Tobio changes Hinata into his nighttime shorts and worn white high school club t-shirt, tucks him into bed, drags his feet back to his room across the combined drawing-dining space, and tries to fall asleep in his suddenly cold and uninviting bed.