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People were laughing, food and alcohol were bountiful and delectable, the night was warm, and Noya was about to ruin everything.
It was a beautiful autumn evening, and it felt like everyone even tangentially related to the Miyagi volleyball scene had turned out for a get-together celebrating Kenma and Hinata’s recent engagement. The Karasuno crowd held court around a plastic folding table in the backyard of Hinata’s parents’ home, coming and going as they sought out old friends and rivals alike.
“Can you believe it? After ten years, now they decide to get married?!” Tanaka half sobbed as he flopped across the table, nearly shoving his elbow into Daichi’s plate. Kiyoko surreptitiously slid it out of his way, while Daichi – with a little less subtly and a little more urgency – attempted to swap Tanaka’s beer with an aloe drink.
“Your husband is taking this pretty personally,” Kuroo – an honorary crow-by-marriage, as dubbed by Yamaguchi – commented with a raised eyebrow, leaning around his lapful of husband to catch Kiyoko’s eye. “Are you sure he never formally adopted Chibi-chan without you knowing?”
Kiyoko hid a smile behind her hand while Tsukishima snorted. “Tanaka can’t keep anything a secret,” Tsukishima sneered, tipsily nosing at Kuroo’s neck. “He practically live-streamed engagement ring shopping before he proposed to Kiyoko.”
Kuroo hitched him up further in his lap and placed a fond kiss on the top of his head. “Meanwhile, Kenma randomly mentions over a working lunch, ‘Oh, by the way, do you have a free weekend coming up? Shouyou and I got engaged.’ I wanted to kill him!”
The whole table laughed as Kuroo further detailed how he was unceremoniously informed of his best friend’s nuptials, with others chiming in and teasing Kuroo, the engaged couple, and each other.
Tobio chose that moment to slip over to the table, wedging himself in between Daichi and Tanaka. They both instantly made room for him, though Tanaka decided to drape himself over Kageyama’s shoulders and give the younger man a shake. “Kageyamaaaa! Where have you been all night?”
“Hanging out,” Tobio shrugged.
Tanaka’s grin took on a vicious edge. “You’re not causing problems for Hinata are you?”
“No. Why?” Tobio’s eyes narrowed. “Should I? What did that idiot say?”
“Nothin’, nothin’, I just figured you two would find something to butt heads about. Competing to see who could–”
And then, as if emerging from the depths of hell (according to Daichi) or descending from the comedy heavens (according to Kuroo), Noya appeared.
“Whoa, what’s this I hear?” He chortled, throwing himself over Kageyama’s other side. “A competition? Are you and Hinata betting on who can get to the altar first?”
Daichi, Ennoshita, and Yamaguchi simultaneously turned to look at each other, eyes wide as a shiver ran up all their spines. Over the racket of their friends, they would later swear that they heard a gong ring out, signaling a change in destiny. This ability to hear the gong was a special skill developed out of self-preservation by all Karasuno captains, and should not be doubted, Tsukishima.
One only had to look at the fire that lit up in Kageyama’s eyes to know they spoke the truth.
–
Tobio hunched over his dining table, pen tapping against an empty notebook page, while Ushijima and Hoshiumi scrolled through their phones.
“This is more complicated than I thought,” Ushijima mused. “There are many factors to decide upon.”
“You’re telling me! These wedding websites all keep saying to set a budget as your first step. I don’t even budget my day-to-day life! How am I supposed to figure out how much to spend on this stuff?!” Hoshiumi furrowed his brow. “I say you figure out the date first. That’s the most important thing, right? Since you’re trying to do this ASAP?”
Tobio nodded, still frowning at the paper. He tentatively wrote something on the first line, then immediately scratched it out.
“We have a free day from training the Saturday after next,” Ushijima offered.
“Oh, perfect. Let me see if I can make an appointment at the municipal office for you, Kageyama.”
The blissful silence lasted only a few moments, before Hoshiumi groaned and dropped his phone onto the table with a despondent clatter. “I need the name of the other party before I can set up an appointment.”
“That’s fine,” Tobio replied as he scribbled down a few more lines. “We can do that later. Can you find a restaurant to host a party at? My sister would probably be mad if I didn’t do something.”
“Hell yeah! Hey Ushijima, what was the name of that restaurant that one sponsor took us to? The place with the rooftop bar? That’d be pretty dope for a wedding party.”
The trio continued to work out the details, making reservations where they could, jotting down notes to ask their nutritionist about cake recommendations, until they came to the inevitable.
“Dude, you gotta start asking people,” Hoshiumi said with a no-nonsense look in his eye. “You haven’t added a name to your list in like ten minutes.”
“Hoshiumi is correct.” Ushijima inclined his head towards Tobio. “It’s time to set the ball and see who will connect with your toss.”
Tobio and Hoshiumi stared at their teammate. “Whoa dude, that was… profound, or something,” Hoshiumi declared, while Tobio nodded vigorously in agreement.
“Do you think I should use that in my proposal?” Tobio asked the other two. “The websites said I should make it personal.”
After debating the pros and cons of volleyball metaphors, the three men decided to keep it simple and forgo it for the moment. “But I’ll use it if I get that sort of fwooosh moment,” Tobio amended, and the others gave their approval.
The single brain cell that was bouncing around the Adlers thankfully reminded them that they should practice before they did a real version, so Tobio called the fourth person written on his list, and his number one person for advice.
“Hi, Yachi. Are you free on the 21st,” Tobio flatly intoned as he read off the notebook page.
“Hi, Kageyama! Let me just check my calendar really quick. Oh, where did you go, you silly thing–” She hummed and mumbled to herself as she rustled through things. Tobio shifted impatiently in his seat. “Got it! You said the 21st?”
“Yes.”
“It looks like I’m free that afternoon! Is there something going on? Or did you just want to get lunch?”
“I was actually wondering if you would be able to get married that afternoon.”
Silence.
“Um. What?”
“Would you be free to marry me that afternoon?”
“...Kageyama, did you hit your head during your last game? I think you need to go to the hospital. Do you want me to come get you? Or I can call a taxi, or–”
“I didn’t hit my head. I twisted my knee a bit, but it’s fine now.”
“Oh, you have to be careful about that. I’m glad it’s feeling better, but– wait, no, hold on. Kageyama, why are you asking me to marry you? This isn’t a silly game you and Hinata are playing, is it?”
“No,” Tobio promptly retorted, only feeling a little bit like he was lying. It wasn’t silly, and it wasn’t a game, but he had a feeling some of the others wouldn’t see it that way.
Yachi’s sigh crackled through the phone. “Kageyama.”
Tobio squirmed.
Yachi remained silent.
“It’s not a game.”
“But you’re having some sort of competition?” She prodded.
“...Nishinoya-senpai started it.”
A dull thud echoed through the phone line. “Kageyama, are you sure you want to get married because of whatever Nishinoya said? That doesn’t seem like a very good reason.”
“It’s not my only reason. I want to get married.”
Tobio wished he could see Yachi’s expression. He wasn’t great at reading people’s faces, but sometimes it helped, and Yachi was easier to understand than others. It was tough to tell if she was mad, confused, or disappointed. Disappointed Yachi was definitely the option to avoid at all costs.
Yachi remained silent for a moment. “...can you tell me why you want to get married?”
Images of Hinata’s broad grin and Kozume’s curling smile, their heads tucked close together, their hands clasped tightly, danced across Tobio’s mind. Something about it made his stomach twist. He didn’t want Hinata like that, and not Kozume either, but…
“I… volleyball is everything,” He started, haltingly. “To me, and I guess to Hinata. But somehow Kozume is also everything for him? And I… if Hinata can do it, so can I.”
Hoshiumi and Ushijima gave him a matching set of thumbs-up. He flashed one back.
A long sigh emerged from his phone, and then Yachi softly said, “You deserve to be happy, too. If this is how you want to go about it, then… I guess I’m wishing you good luck. Even if I do think you might have a head injury.”
“Thank you, Yachi,” Tobio dutifully replied. His shoulders felt a little lighter. “Before you go, do you have any recommendations?”
“Recommendations? For what?”
“Spouses.”
“Do I… have any recommendations… for who might agree to marry you.”
“Yeah.” Tobio scratched his cheek.
Yachi muttered something to herself, then asked, “Kageyama, how many people have you already called?”
“You’re the first,” Tobio replied. She started to make a pleased little sound, but he barreled on like a bull in a china shop. “I figured you would say no, since you already like someone–” he ignored her squeak– “but I thought you would be good practice.”
“Ask if she has any feedback,” Ushijima reminded him.
“Oh, and Ushijima says to ask you if you have any feedback on how I asked you.”
There was no response for a few moments, before Tobio heard another hard thud. He readjusted the phone as his ear grew warm. He hoped he didn't have to make too many more calls. “Yachi?”
“Sorry, I’m here, sorry.” She sighed deeply. “Can you put me on speaker?”
Once Yachi confirmed that Ushijima and Hoshiumi were indeed helping him, she essentially took over the planning of the project, much to everyone’s relief.
“No, absolutely not, do not reserve anything until you actually have someone who agrees to this!”
“But it’s a more efficient use of our time–”
“What if the person who agrees to marry you wants to have a say in their wedding? And they don’t like the restaurant? Then you’d have to call back and cancel the reservation, and that will take more time.”
Ushijima nodded at her sage advice, and silently told himself to get her number from Kageyama later. Yachi seemed kind and thoughtful, and explained things clearly. She would be a good person to ask advice from, or perhaps share a meal with. Tendou would be happy if he made another friend, too.
Yachi turned their focus to their list. “You can’t just have a basic script and use it for all of these people. You have to tailor it to them, like a resume! Otherwise there’s no way they’ll say yes.”
“I’ve never had to have a resume,” Hoshiumi piped up. “Should I have one?”
“It’s always good to have a list of places, er, teams that you’ve played for, and relevant information. Like your playing statistics, and maybe a few examples that make you look good? Stories about when you were a team player, or a leader.”
“Why?”
“Uhh, well,” Yachi hedged, realizing how far out of her depth she was as she gave career advice to a professional volleyball player, “It’s easy to see how well you play volleyball if someone watches clips of you, or looks at your statistics, but it’s harder to see how you communicate and interact with your team. Coaches don’t just pick the person who can jump the highest or hit the hardest, they have to pick the person who fits the best with the other players, right?”
It took Hoshiumi a moment to think about it, but his face lit up the moment he understood. “Right! Because it’s all volleyball!” He squinted at the phone. “Are you sure you won’t marry Kageyama? If you did, we could see you more often, and you seem smart and cool.”
Yachi squeaked and stuttered out a protest.
Eventually, after getting sidetracked some more by Hoshiumi, Yachi asked the question Tobio had been hoping she wouldn’t. “Ah, Kageyama, have you thought about Sugawara-senpai?”
Tobio’s heart pounded in his chest like he had just made an unexpected dive to keep the ball in play. “No,” he lied.
“Well…” She hesitated. “Maybe you should? You two have always gotten along well, and he’s always been, um, if not always an active participant, then at least encouraging of everyone’s antics. He might go along with this.”
“...I think he’s busy on the 21st.”
“Kageyama,” Yachi sighed. “You really are a terrible liar. Do I need to call Yamaguchi?”
“No!” Tobio was absolutely not pouting. “I just don’t want to call Sugawara-senpai. He probably has other things to do.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Hoshiumi jumped in. “I remember this guy. He comes to all our away matches near Sendai, and he’s even come to a few Tokyo ones, right?” Hoshiumi raises both his eyebrows and looks over at Ushijima. “He’s the one who makes Kageyama go all shy and respectful!”
Tobio scowled as Yachi squealed and Ushijima nodded his head thoughtfully. “I recall Romero commenting on Kageyama’s behavior. He said they should bring Sugawara on as a reserve setter.” At Tobio’s incredulous look, Ushijima added, “I believe he was joking.”
“Yeah, yeah! And Captain said that Sugawara was cute!” Hoshiumi swung around to jab a finger in Tobio’s direction. “You think he’s cute! Don’t you?!”
Panic began to crawl up Tobio’s throat. “N– N– M– He–” Tobio stuttered, unsure what exactly he was even trying to say. Instad, he did the next best thing he could think of, which was bellow, “BYE YACHI,” end the call, grab his phone, and bolt into the bathroom.
The realization that he was pulling a Hinata made his head pound even more.
Slowly, Tobio unclenched his death grip around his phone, and turned on the faucet. A quick splash of water to his face and ears quickly brought his heart rate down, but he still felt flushed. A mental image of Sugawara at their last Sendai game appeared unwillingly in his mind – his bright grin, his well-loved jersey with “KAGEYAMA” emblazoned across the back, his compliments and jokes – and Tobio’s heart rate went right back up.
“Shit,” he muttered. Then, because he was already this far in and he might as well, Tobio opened up his photos app and scrolled over to his favorites. In the folder were five selfies with Sugawara – one at Sugawara’s graduation, one at Tobio’s graduation, one at Tobio’s first game as a starter for the Adlers, one at a Karasuno reunion, and one at an Olympics celebration.
As he stared at them for a long few minutes, he caught himself wishing that there were more.
So he closed the app, and opened up his contacts.
–
Koushi whistled to himself as he poured boiling water into his mug, going as slow as he could in order to avoid going back to grading essays. They weren’t long, considering they were elementary school students, but oh boy did they manage to pack in the mistakes into a few short sentences.
The sudden buzzing of his phone made him jump, nearly splashing himself with hot water. He carefully put the kettle down and grinned when he saw the name on the screen.
“Kageyama! My hero!” Koushi cheered as he leaned back against the counter. He grinned as he listened to Kageyama sputter. “You’ve saved me from having to go back to work. Your timing is perfect, even off the court, huh?”
“Ahh, I don’t mean to interrupt–”
“You’re fine, you’re fine, I really wanted a break. If you hadn’t called, I would’ve just wasted time on YouTube or something. I’d much prefer to chat with my favorite setter for a bit though. How are things going? It looked like you landed on your knee a little odd in the last set of your last game.”
“Oh. It’s fine now, I just twisted it. I iced it afterwards, and Iwaizumi-san cleared me for practice. Thank you for asking,” Kageyama added belatedly, and Koushi let out a sigh of relief.
“That’s great to hear! I was worried, but I didn’t want to join the mob of people messaging you afterwards. I figured if it was a big deal, the team would make an announcement about you missing the match against Raijin.” Kageyama grunted in agreement, and Koushi took a sip of his tea, wincing at the heat. “So, are you calling about something specific?”
There was a beat of silence, and then Kageyama said, “You weren’t at Hinata’s engagement party.”
Koushi blew out a frustrated breath. “I know, I’m still mad about that! Of course we had a school event that night. I tried to beg off, but they said no. How was it? Daichi told me tons of people showed up.”
“It was fine,” Kageyama muttered, and Koushi smirked. He could picture Kageyama’s scowl as if the man was here in front of him. “I… did Daichi-san mention anything in particular?”
That got Koushi’s attention. “No-o-o-o…” He dragged out, trying to think. “Should he have? I swear I’ll karate chop him on the head if he didn’t loop me in on the good gossip!”
Kageyama sighed, and the sound of him resettling came clear over the phone. Koushi frowned, suddenly worried. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” He was pretty certain Kageyama had gotten over his second-year crush on Hinata, but sometimes feelings could come roaring back at inconvenient times. Koushi really hoped that wasn’t the case though.
“Sugawara-senpai, would you be interested in getting married?”
Koushi blinked. “Like, in general?”
“To me.”
Koushi blinked again, and gently set his tea down on the counter. Then, he slowly sank down to sit on his kitchen floor. He certainly wasn’t having this conversation while standing.
“Is this because Hinata’s getting married?”
“No. Yes.”
Koushi heaved a big sigh, letting his head fall back against the cupboard door. “Sorry, let me be more specific. Kageyama, do you have feelings for Hinata? And is this your way of dealing with it?”
“Oh. No. I just don’t want Hinata to get married first.”
Sugawara slapped a hand to his forehead. “Well, at least you’re honest,” he garbled out. “Is that really the only reason?”
He couldn’t help the way his mouth twitched up at Kageyama’s huff. “Why does everyone keep asking that? First Yachi, then you.”
“Please don’t tell me you asked Yachi to marry you.” The mental image was so painfully awkward, Koushi shuddered violently. “Also, I’d be heartbroken at being a silver medal.”
“I only asked her for practice,” Kageyama said, like this was a normal statement. “But she gave me some good advice.”
“Oh? Wait, no, tell me why you want to get married, then tell me what advice Yachi could possibly have given you.” He desperately wanted to know if Yachi had been the one to suggest Kageyama propose to Koushi. If so, Koushi had license to tease Yachi for life.
“Hinata has both volleyball and Kozume. I want both too,” Kageyama declared stoutly. “Yachi told me a lot of things, like not to make a reservation at a restaurant without figuring out who I’m going to marry first.”
“I see.” Koushi did not see. Well, he sort of did, but that would mean admitting he was at the same level of insanity as his underclassmen. “I don’t think I look much like Kozume, unfortunately.”
“I don’t want to marry Kozume,” Kageyama replied, affronted.
“Right. You want to marry me, huh?” Koushi couldn’t help but tease. “Let me think for a moment.”
Koushi chewed on his lip as he stared at the popcorn ceiling of his apartment. He knew if Daichi or Asahi were here, they would probably talk about not desecrating the sanctity of marriage or encouraging Kageyama and Hinata’s shenanigans, or something. Instead of doing either of those, Koushi asked, “Is this like, a legally binding marriage? Or could we just photoshop a fake certificate, throw a party, and pretend like we got married?” Honestly, there was some appeal to the scene – Kageyama could probably afford good food and an open bar, which was fun in and of itself, and the reactions of their friends would be hysterical. It would be hard to keep a straight face if Daichi had a meltdown at the “reception.”
“No, that wouldn’t count. I don’t want to win by cheating.”
“I’ve always admired your integrity,” Koushi commented blithely as he sorted through questions. “Legally binding then. Is there a set divorce day then? A few weeks after Kozume and Hinata get married or something?”
Silence. “I hadn’t thought about that,” Kageyama said slowly. “I guess that would make sense. But I’d prefer not to.”
Koushi blinked. He pulled his phone away to stare at it. The seconds ticked by on his screen.
He pushed the phone back up against his ear. “Wait, is this a serious marriage proposal?”
“Yes.”
Well, it wasn’t like Kageyama ever did things by half. Still, the realization that Kageyama was sincerely trying to propose – over the phone, nonetheless – nearly knocked the wind out of Koushi. He desperately wanted to ask Why me?, but he didn’t know if he’d like the answer or not. He’d been joking about being a silver medal, but he didn’t actually want to be someone’s choice out of mere convenience.
If someone had asked him a week ago what he would do if an underclassman proposed to him, Koushi was certain he would have responded by comparing the proposal to the kind that his elementary students would occasionally make. Adorable, mostly, and completely out of the realm of possibility.
But this didn’t feel like that. His pulse felt like he’d just sprinted around the block.
Koushi cleared his throat, silently grateful Kageyama had given him a minute to compose himself after that bombshell. “Marriage is a big commitment,” he said, trying to channel the responsible adult facade he wore to work. “Have you thought about the logistics? We don’t live in the same city after all.”
It was easy to picture Kageyama’s shrug. “There’s talk of swinging the Sendai Frogs up to Division 1. I could talk to my agent about switching teams if that happens. There’s also a lot of schools in Tokyo, if you wanted to move down here,” he offered. “But you also wouldn’t have to work if you didn’t want to. I make enough money to pay for both of us.”
Oh my god, is this a marriage proposal or a sugar baby proposal?! Koushi mentally screeched. Thankfully, his experience as a teacher gave him plenty of practice in appearing calm in the face of disaster. “That’s fair, I guess,” he hedged. “Do… Do you have any questions for me?”
“Yes. Can you wait one second?” At Koushi’s affirmative hum, Kageyama started moving around; Koushi heard a door open and shut. “Could you pass me that checklist?” He heard Kageyama ask someone.
That someone decided the appropriate response was to scream like a pterodactyl. “Someone’s agreed to go through the checklist with you?! Holy shit! Is it–”
Of course, that was when Kageyama remembered to mute the call. While he waited, Koushi debated getting off the floor and moving to the couch, or simply starfishing on his kitchen floor. The latter won out without much thought.
“Sorry,” Kageyama suddenly spoke up, “I have my questions now.”
“Who was that?”
“My teammate, Hoshiumi. Ushijima is also here.”
Koushi had to shove his fist against his mouth to keep from laughing at the mental image of the three men planning Kageyama’s foray into the marriage market. “Ah, well, say hello for me,” he choked out. “You had questions?”
“Yes.” A pen clicked. “How do you feel about kazoos?”
“...Did you say kazoos?”
“Yes.”
Koushi rubbed at the pinched line between his brows. “Dare I ask why this is your very first question?”
“Yachi said to start with an easy question.”
“I- Okay, you know what, that’s fair. How do you feel about kazoos?”
Koushi imagined Kageyama wrinkling his nose in disgust as he said, “I hate them. I don’t understand why people play them when they sound like an annoying bird ate a xylophone.” Then, with obvious fear in his voice, he asked. “Unless, uh, you like kazoos?”
“I’m an elementary school teacher. My students did a kazoo concert performance last year. My coworker and I took shots before we went, just to survive. I can promise you, I could die happy without hearing another kazoo.”
A breath whooshed into the speaker, and Koushi let himself chuckle.
“That’s good. Next question. What are your sexual preferences?”
Koushi wished he had thought to get a beer from the fridge. Then, shrugging to himself, he sat up and crawled over to his fridge. “I’m going to assume Yachi didn’t look over the order of your questions,” he finally remarked.
“She approved the questions,” Kageyama muttered. “I did the easy question first, but then I wanted to get on to the important stuff. I didn’t want to waste anyone’s time.”
Koushi can’t help but huff out a laugh. “Well, I can’t fault that logic. You know, I do appreciate that about you – how straightforward you are. If I asked you if a pair of pants made me look good, you’d give me your honest opinion every time.”
“I think there would be something wrong with the pants if you didn’t look good in them,” Kageyama instantly replied, like he didn’t even have to think about it. A healthy blush spread across Koushi’s cheeks, and he took a bracing sip of beer as Kageyama continued, “Would it be helpful if I listed some examples of my sexual preferences first?”
Koushi muttered a swear to himself, hopefully out of range of the microphone, but quickly said, “Yes, thank you. It would be helpful.”
The sound of paper being shuffled echoed in Koushi’s ear. “I have had sexual encounters with four people,” Kageyama began, clearly reading something pre-written. “I enjoyed almost everything, except for being spanked and being called ‘Daddy.’ I didn’t mind spanking someone else, though I don’t think I want to call anyone ‘Daddy.’”
Koushi took a very long drink.
“I liked giving and receiving oral sex and anal sex, as well as being tied up.”
Koushi spat out his beer. “What?”
“One of the people I had regular sex with liked doing shibari,” Kageyama explained, like he wasn’t breaking Koushi’s mind. “They said my body was a good… I think they said canvas? I tried doing it to them a few times, but I think I just prefer tying someone up with simple knots. Less work.”
The image of Kageyama, kneeling at Koushi’s feet and tied up in intricate knots, danced across Koushi’s mind, only to be quickly replaced with one of himself, tied up on the bed, helpless to a very naked Kageyama’s whims.
Oh. Oh no.
“Yes,” Koushi whispered without thinking, then promptly bit down his tongue. “I mean. Um. All of that sounds good to me. I haven’t tried shibari specifically, but it seems, uh, good.” He resisted the urge to beat his head into the floor, feeling barely capable of stringing a sentence together.
“What– What sort of things do you like, Sugawara-senpai?” Kageyama asked, and oh, Koushi was so grateful for that stutter. It meant that Kageyama, as blunt as he was, wasn’t entirely unaffected by their conversation.
“I’m– I mean, I’ve had a few sexual partners? Three, I think.” Frankly, it was a miracle he could remember his own name right now. “I also like oral and anal sex, but I, uh, also have had vaginal sex with a girl, and I liked that too. But that’s not really relevant I guess, so–”
“It’s relevant to you, senpai,” Kageyama said earnestly, and Koushi thought he might faint, there was so much blood moving away from his brain and heart and into his cheeks and dick. He was going to get a “senpai” kink at this rate.
“That’s fair. I haven’t tried being tied up or tying someone up, but…” Koushi swallowed, then revealed a secret. “I’d like to try it. I’ve seen videos and photos, but none of my partners have really been interested.”
Kageyama makes a startled noise. “We could try it. I can show you how to do it.”
Koushi lets out a breathy little laugh. “Always one step ahead of me, aren’t you?”
There was a beat of silence, and then Kageyama neatly shattered Koushi’s heart: “I just want to make you feel good. Whenever I see you… my heart goes whooosh, and I feel like I could play three more sets, even if I just finished a game.”
Koushi set down his beer.
“Kageyama… Tobio. Do you like me?”
Both of them were breathing loudly, rippling back and forth between their phones.
“I like you, Sugawara-senpai.”
And Koushi, who had watched this boy become a man, saw him become someone Koushi was proud to call his friend, was finished. Kaput. Bowled over and dead.
The two of them had always had a synergy that Koushi relished in. Kageyama had been a technically better setter, but Koushi had still been able to teach him things that helped him reach further. For all that Kageyama could be abrasive to others, he always listened to Koushi, his big blue eyes always trusting. Whether they were teenagers or adults, standing beside Kageyama gave him a rush of excitement, but a rush that was thoroughly grounded, thanks to Kageyama’s determination and honesty.
And he wasn’t hard on the eyes, either.
But before Koushi could say the words, I like you, too, Kageyama continued speaking.
“And I still want to marry you.”
What little remained of Koushi was thereby obliterated.
“Kageyama–”
“Tobio.”
Koushi’s breath caught in his throat, and it took him a moment to force the words out. “Tobio. We should probably date first, right?” He said with a small laugh.
It took a moment as Kageyama – Tobio, and wasn’t that going to take a second to get used to – shuffled through arguments. Eventually, he declared, “I trust you. I like you. Why shouldn’t we get married?”
“Tobio, I haven’t even told you if I like you back!” Koushi laughed for real this time, giving into the absurdity of the situation. “I mean, I do like you, but shouldn’t we go on a date first?”
“Are you free tonight?” Tobio replied promptly. “If I leave in… twenty minutes, I can catch the bullet train to Sendai and be there in time for dinner.”
“How in the world do you know that off the top of your head?”
“I checked earlier, in case you said yes. So? If we go on a date tonight and it goes well, can we get married next weekend?”
Koushi took a deep breath and pushed his face into his knees. “We’ll see how the date goes, alright? I’ll meet you at the station if you tell me when you’re due to arrive.”
“Okay. Wait, hold on.”
“I don’t think I could move if I tried.”
A minute passed, and Tobio hopped back on. “Ushijima’s husband is going to make a reservation for us at a restaurant in Sendai. Please wear something nice.”
“A reser– wait, Ushiwaka’s married?! Wait, no, no, focus Koushi, focus. We’ll go to your fancy dinner, but afterwards I want to go to a dance club. If you wanna marry Sugawara Koushi, you have to know what you’re getting into. Also, we’re going to work through more of those questions on your list, because I know you’re more concerned with just shibari and kazoos.”
“That’s fine,” Tobio steadily agreed. “But please don’t drink too much. Daichi-san has warned me about drunk Sugawara, and I would like you to remember tonight.”
“I doubt I’m going to forget a date with a V.League player,” Koushi sassed while mentally cursing Daichi and his bloodline.
“Good. Also, I want to have sex with you tonight, and we can’t do that if you’re drunk.”
This is how I die. They’re going to find me in holey sweatpants, half a beer on the ground, and a stack of ungraded essays. My mother is going to revive me just to kill me again.
Aloud, Koushi said, “You’re going to kill me, Tobio.” Whoops.
“I’ll try not to,” Tobio replied, and it took Koushi a second to hear the humor in his voice.
“You little punk,” Koushi hissed, “I’m gonna make you regret proposing.”
“Is that a bet?”
“Ohhhh no, you’re already in enough trouble from making bets. Go on, go get ready, you only have like fifteen minutes. If you’re late, I’ll say no.”
“I’ll convince you to say yes,” Tobio declared, and Koushi heard the iron in his voice, the same voice he heard on the volleyball court.
Koushi might be in a wee bit of trouble.
…He really needed to take a thorough shower.
“Good-bye, Tobio, see you in a few hours. And,” he added, cutting off Tobio’s response, “you can call me Koushi, if you’d like.”
“Good-bye, Koushi-senpai.” And then, like the little twerp he was, Tobio hung up the phone.
Koushi remained seated on his kitchen floor, staring at nothing. Eventually, he took a swig of beer, looked down at his phone, and blinked.
“Well, shit.”
TWO WEEKS LATER
As the party ran wild, fueled by the restaurant’s open bar, Koushi stared down at his left hand, where a delicate silver band hugged his ring finger.
Glancing up, he spotted Tobio across the room, looking very uncomfortable as Tanaka and Nishinoya alternated between cackling and sobbing on him. Then, Tobio looked over, catching Koushi’s eye, and gave an endearingly awkward little smile.
Koushi couldn’t help but grin in return.
“Well, shit.”