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For Kageyama Tobio, age 21, life is going great.
It’s a little past halfway through the season, and the Adlers look to remain the only undefeated team in the VLeagues for the third year in a row. His sets have been great; his hitters have been playing great; and for the first time in his admittedly still young life, he is in a relationship, and though it’s still but a fresh young bud, it is slowly blooming, and it’s been great.
Having watched — studied, even — all of Romero’s games growing up, Kageyama already knew that his childhood idol — who somehow, miraculously, is now his teammate! — was, and still is, an incredible player. As the pre-season went on and they got to know each other, mostly thanks to Romero’s persistently outgoing personality, Kageyama has also come to learn that Romero is kind, and attentive. He’s funny, and he always laughs at Kageyama’s jokes (even when Kageyama doesn’t realize he’s made one, which is more often than not), and is a very good dancer. His singing turns out to be not as good, but what he lacks in talent he makes up for in an abundance of enthusiasm that never fails to draw a smile out of Kageyama, squashed in a corner of the karaoke booth, tambourine held awkwardly in his hand.
It was just after the official start of the season — about 10 team dinners, 4 karaoke outings, and 2 nights out at the dance club later (not that anyone’s counting) — that Kageyama started thinking that Romero is handsome too. Very handsome. He says as much one night when Romero was walking him home from practice again — so generous and kind! — and bathed in moonlight, particularly bright in the clear autumn sky, reminding Kageyama of those marble Greek statues that wore fig leaves as underwear.
That night, Kageyama also learned that Romero is a good kisser.
Very good.
(And also that instead of fig leaves, Romero wears Calvin Klein briefs.)
Since then, Romero, ever the affectionate and attentive boyfriend, has taken Kageyama on many dates, all of them more romantic than the last. Shopping for new volleyball shoes, picking out matching workout clothes, cooking him dinner and then cuddling as they watch the Netherlands – Italy Olympic final from 1996 — Kageyama thinks he must be dating Cupid himself. And so, when Romero asks if Kageyama is free on a certain weekend for another date, Kageyama immediately says yes (if it turns out he does actually have plans, he’ll just cancel them).
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” The way that Romero beams leaves no doubt in Kageyama’s heart that that’s how Romero truly feels. “Because actually, meu amor, I have something really special planned for us.”
“What is it?” Kageyama can’t help asking immediately, heart already beating fast.
“No no, I don’t want to spoil the surprise! But I guess I can give you a hint,” Romero relents, smiling playfully at the way Kageyama pouts. “Wear something casual and comfortable.”
Casual… and comfortable. Casual and comfortable? Maybe Romero’s going to take him on a long, scenic run? Or maybe he’s going to meet Romero’s friends and they’re going to all play volleyball together! Or, maybe, what if… Kageyama puts a hand to a now flaming cheek. What if he and Romero are going to play 1v1 volleyball, just the two of them?!
The possibilities are dizzying. The whole week leading up to the date, Kageyama can barely get any sleep. What should he wear? Should he go shopping for a new outfit? What oh what does his boyfriend have planned for him this time?
The week crawls by at a very old and very tired snail’s pace. The date of the date cannot come fast enough.
Somehow, eventually, Kageyama makes it through the week. He’s in his cutest athletic outfit — Hoshiumi helped him pick it out — and clutching tightly at his boyfriend’s large, sturdy hand.
His boyfriend’s son is holding onto the other hand.
The three of them are looking at a goat standing, rather aggressively, in Kageyama’s opinion, inside a wooden pen.
Not great.
“Don’t be shy, meu amor, go on and feed the goat! He’s a sweet goat, isn’t he, Michael?” says Romero, and he gives his son’s hand an affectionate squeeze.
“Yeah,” answers Michael with a shy excitement. “He licked my hand and it tickled!”
While Romero chuckles, Kageyama grimaces.
As it turns out — to Kageyama’s quiet horror — the “really special” surprise that Romero planned was a trip to the petting zoo with his son, whom Kageyama had only met a handful of times before. Finally, gushed Romero, he’s spending the day with the two people he loves most in the world! Michael, apparently, suggested the activity himself; it was the thing he wanted to do most in the whole wide world, and according to Romero, whom Kageyama had never taken for a liar until now, Michael was so excited to share his special surprise with his beloved papa’s special someone.
Well. It certainly was a surprise, being taken to this petting zoo and immediately assaulted by the smell of manure as soon as Kageyama got out of the car. He managed to avoid any disasters at the guinea pig playland — it seemed natural to hang back to avoid being crushed by screaming waves of children, and they skipped the Duck Duck Goose, Michael being absolutely terrified of birds. Not so, apparently, of goats. Michael seems to love goats. When Romero asks, Kageyama tells him he likes goats too, but he doesn’t know how to say that goats, among many other animals, don’t like him.
“Here Tobio, you can give him some food,” says Michael, and he stuffs a handful of sweaty pellets into Kageyama’s hand. Romero oohs and holds up his phone, ready to take pictures; under the gaze of father and son, there’s nothing Kageyama can do but stretch a shaking hand out, praying that his modest offering of pellets will quell any hostility this goat may hold towards him.
The goat gives him a look, and then a sniff. Then, after a few moments of goatly consideration, it lowers its head and takes a little nibble at the pellets. It does tickle, and Kageyama almost laughs. Emboldened, he stretches his arm out a bit further to make it easier for the goat to reach.
CHOMP!
What feels like a bear trap snaps around Kageyama’s fingers. Someone screams — Michael, he thinks, or possibly him, because that cursed goat’s teeth hurt. The thought that this, standing in dung-strewn hay with his fingers in a demon goat’s mouth, might be the end of his career makes Kageyama nearly faint, and he thinks he does briefly black out; because the next thing he knows, his fingers — all five of them, all intact — have been freed, and the warm lips he feels aren’t those of the goat, but of Romero.
“Meu amor, are you OK?” he asks, rubbing Kageyama’s hand slowly and soothingly. When Kageyama whimpers in response, Romero presses his mouth against his fingers again in another kiss. “My poor Tobio! And such a naughty goat!”
“Will I still be able to play volleyball?” Tobio says meekly, and gives his fingers an experimental wiggle.
“Yes yes, don’t worry. You’re moving your fingers just fine, and you’re not bleeding or bruising. This is good.”
“Don’t,” Kageyama protests as Romero gives him a third kiss. “That’s where the goat’s mouth was. It’s dirty.” He blushes, suddenly acutely aware that Michael is watching the whole scene, eyes wide and mouth open.
“You’re right,” says Romero. He, too, seems to be thinking the same thing as Kageyama; releasing the hand to slide his arm around Kageyama’s waist, he leans in and whispers, right in Kageyama’s ear:
“When we get home, I’ll give you a kiss somewhere dirtier.”