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THE FIRST TIME
Tsukishima shoved the locker room door open with more force than necessary. “Kageyama, Hinata—Coach Ukai says to get out of the locker room, he can’t go home until—”
He stopped cold.
It took him a second to register what he was looking at. Then his brain caught up—and immediately wanted to shut down.
Kageyama was flat on his back in the middle of the locker room floor, eyes half-lidded and dazed. Hinata was on top of him, straddling his hips like it was the most natural thing in the world.They were pressed together tightly, and Hinata was bent so low over Kageyama’s face that their noses brushed.
His lips moved hungrily against Kageyama’s, fingers twisted in the front of Kageyama’s shirt, pulling him up into the kiss with startling intensity. Kageyama's hands were buried in Hinata’s hair, pushing—no, holding—him there, like letting go wasn’t even a consideration.
There was a kind of urgency to it—like neither of them could breathe unless they were doing this. Like they'd been holding back for too long and finally let it all spill over.
Tsukishima froze in the doorway, eyes wide in absolute disbelief.
Then Hinata finally seemed to hear the door slam open. He pulled back with a startled gasp, lips red and swollen. His face was flushed down to his collarbone, and the exposed skin of his neck was littered with bite marks and hickeys—red and purple, already blooming into what would no doubt be very visible bruises by morning.
Kageyama let out a soft whine at the loss of contact, like the moment had been snatched away too soon. He sat up slightly on his elbows, his eyes flicking toward the door with sluggish irritation, as if Tsukishima were just a minor inconvenience interrupting something important.
The three of them stared at each other.
Tsukishima was the first to speak—if you could call it speaking.
“What,” he began, voice flat, “the actual fuck.”
No one answered.
He blinked slowly. “Are you serious? Right now? Here? On the locker room floor? Where people walk? Where I walk?”
Hinata made a small, strangled sound and scrambled off Kageyama like he’d just remembered what shame was. His knees slipped against the floor, and he nearly toppled sideways. “I—it’s not what it looks like!” he said, which was possibly the most unconvincing thing he could’ve chosen to say.
Kageyama just blinked up at the ceiling, still dazed, like he hadn’t fully returned to Earth yet.
Tsukishima stared a moment longer, then lifted his hands over his eyes, groaning audibly. “Oh my god . I can’t unsee that. Why do you have to be like this? Why here ? Are there no other places in the entire building to commit crimes against decency?”
He paused, then added, voice muffled behind his hands, “You guys aren’t exchanging bodily fluids right now, are you?”
Hinata made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a wheeze. “W-What?! No! We weren’t—!”
“Don’t care,” Tsukishima snapped. “Not listening. Coach says get out. Right now. Or he’s locking the building with you in it. And I hope the janitor finds you tomorrow still fused at the lips.”
He turned on his heel, walking away quickly and muttering to himself. “Gonna bleach my eyes. And my brain. And the soles of my shoes. God.”
The door slammed shut again.
For a beat, the room was silent.
Then Kageyama muttered, eyes still on the ceiling, “…We were totally exchanging fluids.”
Hinata hit him with a towel.
Tsukishima was halfway down the hall, trying to repress the trauma with every step, when he slammed straight into Coach Ukai.
“Ow—Jesus, Tsukishima, watch where you’re—wait, where the hell are the other two?”
Tsukishima paled like he’d just seen the ghost of all his dignity. “Nope. Not going back. They’re alive, they’re mobile, that’s all you need to know.”
Ukai narrowed his eyes. “Did you even tell them I’m waiting?”
“I tried ,” Tsukishima hissed, holding up his hands like a man pleading for mercy. “But then I saw things. Unholy things. I have suffered. My soul has suffered.”
Ukai frowned, already annoyed. “Don’t be dramatic. Just come back and help me yell at them. I want to go home sometime this year .”
Tsukishima visibly recoiled. “No. Nope. Please. There were noises. Tongues. I think I have PTSD.”
But Ukai had already grabbed him by the collar and was dragging him back down the hall like a stubborn cat on a leash.
Tsukishima groaned the entire way. “You don’t understand what you’re about to walk into. This is how horror movies start.”
Ukai rolled his eyes and shoved the locker room door open with a sharp bang .
“Alright, you little shits, let’s wrap it up—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
There they were.
Still in the same goddamn position.
Hinata straddling Kageyama again, locked together like magnets. Kageyama’s hands back in Hinata’s hair. Hinata’s fingers tugging at his shirt. It was all mouth and motion and zero shame.
Tsukishima slapped a hand over his face so hard it echoed. “ AGAIN? Are you kidding me? You had one job and it was to stop.”
Ukai looked like someone had short-circuited his brain. He blinked rapidly, eyes twitching, then barked, “HEY! HEY! WHAT THE HELL—”
Hinata yelped and toppled sideways off Kageyama with a thunk. “I—I can explain—”
“NOPE,” Ukai said loudly, holding up a hand. “Do not want to hear it. I don’t care why , I just care that . For the love of volleyball, can we keep our tongues to ourselves in shared spaces?! This is a locker room , not a love shack!”
Kageyama, ever eloquent, just blinked slowly and mumbled, “Coach, it’s not like we were doing everything —”
“STOP. TALKING,” Tsukishima shouted from behind his hand.
Ukai ran both hands down his face. “I’m too old for this. I coach teenagers, not a soap opera. Do you know how many labor laws this probably breaks?”
Hinata, red to his ears, mumbled, “We didn’t mean to— It just—happened…”
“Oh, I believe it happened,” Ukai snapped. “It keeps happening . Which is the problem.”
There was a long, long pause.
Kageyama finally sat up, brushing hair from his forehead. “So… are we in trouble?”
Ukai stared at him like he wanted to throw a clipboard. “You’re not benched. Yet. But if I walk in on you two grinding on the floor again , I’m sending you to confession and suicide drills.”
Hinata nodded rapidly. “Yes, sir. No more grinding.”
Tsukishima mumbled, “Can’t believe I have to say this, but please don’t make this a regular thing.”
Ukai pointed toward the door. “Out. Now. Go home. Or go find a private room if you’re going to suck face like horny raccoons. I’m locking up in five.”
They bolted.
As Ukai turned to lock up, he muttered, “Kids these days...”
Tsukishima walked ten paces behind him, muttering, “I was a good person in a past life. I didn’t deserve this.”
THE SECOND TIME
The night had been peaceful. Too peaceful, considering Karasuno was bunking together in a cheap hotel during a practice match trip.
Daichi had just gotten comfortable in his futon, arms crossed behind his head, enjoying the rare stillness.
Until the noise started.
A faint thump . Then another. A muffled gasp . A strange, rhythmic clunking sound.
Daichi opened one eye.
Then came the whimper .
He sat up with a sigh. “No. Nope. Not tonight.”
Across the room, Suga peeked over the blanket with a smirk. “Want me to go?”
Daichi stood up grimly. “No. I’ll handle it. If I don’t do something, next they’ll be christening the vending machine room.”
Suga snorted into his pillow.
Daichi followed the trail of soft moans and awkward creaking to the bathroom door, cracked just enough for betrayal to leak out.
He didn’t knock.
He kicked the door open.
“What the hell is—”
And there it was.
Hinata. Perched on the bathroom sink like a gremlin, legs cinched tight around Kageyama’s waist. Their mouths locked like magnets. Hands tangled in hair, shirt fabric, and questionable morals. A towel lay forgotten on the floor. The mirror was fogged up. The sink was actively creaking under the stress.
Daichi stopped. They all stared at each other.
It was one of those moments where the universe held its breath.
Hinata blinked at him, dazed. “Uh—”
Kageyama looked like a raccoon caught in a trash can.
Daichi turned around.
Walked out.
Closed the door.
The second the latch clicked, the muffled sound of kissing resumed.
There was a three-second pause.
Then Daichi stormed right back in.
“ON. YOUR. KNEES.”
Hinata yelped and nearly fell off the sink. Kageyama caught him by the waist on pure reflex, but Daichi was already pointing to the bathroom floor like the ghost of every disappointed PE teacher in history.
Both boys knelt, confused, flushed, and vaguely horrified.
Daichi stood over them, hands on hips, voice low and dangerous.
“Welcome to your surprise 10 PM seminar on Boundaries and Shared Spaces .”
Hinata looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. Kageyama was staring at the grout between the tiles like it held the secrets to surviving shame.
“This,” Daichi began, waving at the sink like it had personally offended him, “is not your bedroom. Or your honeymoon suite. Or whatever deranged fever dream you’re living in.”
He paced.
“I don’t care what kind of feelings you have. I don’t care if your hormones are writing sonnets. What I do care about is that you’re making out on a public sink. In a hotel. While I’m trying to sleep . Do you know how gross that is?”
“Yes,” Hinata mumbled.
“ No, you don’t! Because if you did, we wouldn’t be here right now!”
Kageyama mumbled, “The sink was the right height—”
Daichi held up a hand. “If you finish that sentence, I will end you.”
Silence.
Daichi let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. I get it. You’re in love. Or lust. Or whatever this mess is. But please—for the sanity of your teammates, for the sanctity of communal sinks— repress it . Or at least schedule it for times when I’m not trying to enjoy the only peace I get on these damn trips .”
He turned to leave, paused, then added, “I catch you using any other bathroom fixtures this way again, and I will bench you both so fast you’ll get whiplash.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
Hinata slumped forward. “I want to die.”
Kageyama blinked. “…I still think the sink was the right height.”
Hinata smacked him with a roll of toilet paper.
THE THIRD TIME
The gym was alive with the sound of volleyballs slamming into the floor and sneakers squeaking across the court—until Daichi looked around during a water break and frowned.
“Where are Kageyama and Hinata?”
Suga, stretching out his shoulders nearby, glanced around too. “Hmm. Good question.”
“They were here like five minutes ago,” Yamaguchi offered, looking vaguely worried.
Daichi’s frown deepened. “Sugawara, can you go check?”
“Sure,” Suga said easily, already jogging off. “They probably just went to get water or something.”
Sugawara had been walking the halls for five minutes when he first heard it.
A faint thump . Then a pause. Another one. Like something knocking softly against the wall. Or someone.
He slowed his steps, eyebrows furrowing. “Weird,” he mumbled to himself, glancing around. The building was old, sure. Pipes groaned, lockers rattled. Maybe it was nothing.
Then he heard something else.
A noise that sounded suspiciously like a gasp.
He blinked. “...Nah.”
But then it happened again. This time louder, sharper—and distinctly breathy.
Suga paused in the middle of the hallway. “Okay,” he muttered. “Maybe one of the other teams? Just… changing. Or stretching. Or—God, anything normal .”
Still, a nervous twinge pulled at his stomach as he walked further down the hallway, sneakers scuffing quietly across the tile. Every corner he turned, he half expected to see someone—anyone—but the halls stayed eerily empty.
And the sounds didn’t stop.
They just kept getting weirder .
A quiet thud. Then something that sounded suspiciously like a groan. Then—
“Kageyama…”
Sugawara froze .
That wasn’t just a name. That was a moaned name. And it wasn’t just any moan. That was Hinata’s voice.
Suga stared down the hallway like it had personally betrayed him.
“No,” he whispered. “Nope. That can’t be real. That’s not happening.”
He started pacing, rubbing the back of his neck.
“They’re innocent,” he said aloud, trying to reason with the universe. “They’re like… puppies. Hyper, slightly untrained, volleyball-obsessed puppies. They wouldn't—they couldn't —be doing… that.”
Another thud echoed off the walls.
“Oh my god they’re totally doing that,” Suga groaned, horrified.
He started checking every door, growing more frantic. Janitor’s closet—locked. Storage room—empty. Boys’ bathroom—nope. It was like a haunted house designed by horny teenagers.
Then finally—finally—he rounded the far corner near the back supply closet, and the sounds were clearer. Closer. Too close.
“Kageyama—” Hinata’s voice again, breathless and way too into it .
Suga didn’t even think. He rushed forward like he was defusing a bomb and flung the door open.
What he saw was so much worse than whatever his imagination had conjured.
Kageyama. Sitting on an upside-down mop bucket like it was a damn throne of shame.
Hinata. In his lap. Arms around Kageyama’s neck. Mouth on his.
They both jerked back with wide, panicked eyes, lips red and hair tousled like they’d just survived a natural disaster. Kageyama looked like he’d been electrocuted. Hinata looked ready to ascend straight into the afterlife.
Suga stood in the doorway, staring at them. His jaw worked uselessly. No sound came out.
He shut the door without a word.
Stared at it for a long, long second.
Then turned and walked away very slowly, as if trying not to disturb the fragile veil of sanity he had left.
He didn’t stop walking until he was back in the gym.
Daichi was already frowning by the time Sugawara made it back into the gym.
“You were gone for twenty minutes ,” he said, crossing his arms. “Did you get lost in the building we’ve been practicing in for three years?”
Suga stood stiffly near the water cooler, eyes a little too wide, like he’d just emerged from a war zone. His shirt was slightly askew and he looked… disheveled in a very un-Suga-like way.
“I—” he started, then stopped. He ran a hand through his hair and took a long, steadying breath. “I found them.”
Daichi raised an eyebrow. “And?”
Suga looked off to the side. “They’re fine. No one’s injured. They’re… alive.”
“That doesn’t answer the question,” Daichi said, his voice dropping just slightly. “Why were you gone so long?”
There was a pause.
A very long pause.
And then:
“Well,” Sugawara began slowly, “you know how when you don’t want to assume the absolute worst about the first-years because they’re your adorable, hyper, semi-feral volleyball children, and you want to give them the benefit of the doubt, because surely no one would be stupid enough to try something— anything —in a very echoey hallway, during practice, in someone else’s gym, in a closet —”
“Suga.”
“—so you spend fifteen minutes wandering around trying to prove that of course the suspicious sounds you’re hearing aren’t what they sound like, only to realize, in horrific clarity, that actually they are what they sound like, and that you’re now outside the supply closet listening to Hinata moan Kageyama’s name like he’s a romance drama lead and you’re about to open a door that will definitely ruin your entire week—”
“Suga.”
“—so then you open the door and realize yes, it was them, and no, you didn’t imagine it, and now you have to carry that image in your head for the rest of your natural life and maybe even into the afterlife if karma exists—”
“ Suga. ”
Sugawara finally stopped, chest heaving slightly. He blinked at Daichi, deadpan.
Daichi pinched the bridge of his nose.
“They were in the closet again, weren’t they.”
“I’m afraid so,” Sugawara said miserably.
Daichi sighed like he’d aged five years in thirty seconds. “They’ve got five minutes to get back in here before I start printing restraining orders and taping off closets with police tape.”
Tanaka, who had been shamelessly eavesdropping from the sidelines, muttered under his breath, “That’s what they want , Daichi. It only makes them stronger.”
Daichi didn’t respond.
He just walked off toward the hallway with murder in his eyes.
Daichi stormed out of the gym like a man on a mission. A grim one. Like he was going to personally drag two hormonal first-years out of a metaphorical battlefield of poor decisions and burn every supply closet in the district behind him.
The hallway was quiet, too quiet, except for the faint, unmistakable sound of—
“Oh my god,” Daichi muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face. “They’re doing it again.”
He followed the sound like a death march.
A breathy, muffled “Kageyama—!” echoed softly down the corridor.
Daichi stopped outside the closet, counted to five, and kicked the door open like a SWAT officer on the edge of a breakdown .
Inside, Kageyama was sitting on an upturned bucket, lips locked with Hinata—who was, as always, in his lap , arms looped around his neck like he had no understanding of gravity or shame. Kageyama’s hands were on Hinata’s waist, pulling him in, while Hinata made a noise that would’ve gotten the show cancelled if this was a drama airing on public television.
They froze like deer in headlights.
“...Daichi,” Hinata whispered, his voice high and panicked.
Kageyama’s eyes widened in a way that said this was the end . He was already thinking of escape routes that didn’t exist.
Daichi exhaled slowly, like he was trying not to explode into flames.
“I swear to god ,” he said, voice low and tight, “I will tape you two together and march you into a ‘Boundaries and Respecting Shared Spaces’ seminar myself.”
“Wait—Daichi—” Hinata squeaked, scrambling off Kageyama like he'd been lit on fire.
Daichi raised a hand and Hinata immediately shut up.
“Do you know how many times I’ve had to have this conversation?” Daichi asked, tone still eerily calm. “Do you know how many times I’ve been told, ‘It won’t happen again, senpai, we swear’? Do you know how many times I’ve heard moaning echoing through a hallway and thought, ‘No, they wouldn’t—’ but you did ?”
Hinata looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. Kageyama was so red he might combust from shame alone.
Daichi pointed to the door. “Out. Now. ”
They filed out, silent and defeated.
Back in the gym, the rest of the team turned when they entered—Hinata practically hiding behind Kageyama like he thought Daichi might throw a whistle at his head.
Daichi came in behind them, took a long breath, and clapped once.
“ Team meeting tonight. We’re going to talk about professionalism. About restraint. About not making out in the goddamn janitor’s closet when we’re supposed to be practicing. ”
Someone—probably Tanaka—muttered, “What about the science of closet acoustics?”
“I will end you,” Daichi snapped without turning.
Suga leaned in toward Asahi. “So… I guess it wasn’t just echoes after all.”
Asahi sighed into his towel. “We really need to start a support group.”
Daichi sat down heavily on the bench. “I’m gonna have to call a parent, aren’t I.”
THE FOURTH TIME
The practice match against Aoba Johsai had been brutal.
Sweat. Screaming. Oikawa’s smug face.
By the time Coach Ukai called for a break, most of Karasuno was collapsed on the gym floor, breathing like they’d been sprinting from a wildfire.
Most of them.
Kageyama and Hinata, instead, exchanged one of those looks. The kind of look that said
meet me in five or I’ll climb you right here in front of everyone.
A minute later, they slipped away unnoticed—well, mostly unnoticed—ducking around the back hallway where the equipment closet sat tucked into the corner of the gym like a guilty secret.
Hinata shoved the door open, yanked Kageyama in by the collar, and shut it behind them with a quiet click .
The closet was dim and dusty, packed tight with old mats, volleyballs, and the faint smell of floor polish. It didn’t matter. It was private. That was all they needed.
Kageyama pressed him against the wall, mouth already on his, hands finding his hips with practiced ease. Hinata let out a soft sound, fingers winding into the fabric of Kageyama’s jersey.
“We have like ten minutes,” Hinata whispered, breathless.
“That’s enough,” Kageyama muttered, already ducking down to kiss him again.
It was heated. Urgent. The kind of making out that came from adrenaline and teenage hormones and the thrill of doing something incredibly stupid.
Outside, things were less steamy.
Back in the gym, Daichi frowned as he scanned the court. “Where’s Kageyama? And Hinata?”
Tanaka shrugged, wiping sweat from his neck. “Bathroom?”
“No way they’d go at the same time,” Yamaguchi added.
Asahi looked up from his water bottle, dread already forming. “Wait... they wouldn’t be... doing that again, would they?”
Suga sighed like a man who had seen too much. “I’ll go find them.”
“Not alone,” Daichi said quickly. “Last time we lost you for twenty minutes.”
Suga looked haunted. “There was moaning. Echoes , Daichi.”
Back in the closet, Hinata had his legs around Kageyama’s waist, their breaths short and sharp. The door rattled, like something pushed against it.
“Iwa-chan~~ Right here? Pushing me up against the wall? You’re so naughty~” Oikawa’s voice rang out.
Kageyama’s breath hitched in his throat.
Oikawa’s teasing was quickly cut off by the sound of two lips smashing together, which Kageyama and Hinata knew all too well.
Kageyama and Hinata exchanged a look. Oikawa and Iwaizumi. They were at it too.
Oikawa moaned against Iwaizumi and groped for the door handle behind him. He broke away from the kiss with a breath, muttering, “Wait Hajime, let me open the door!”
Iwaizumi sighed, a deep exhale that echoed down the hallway. "You’re so eager."
With a single push, Iwaizumi opened the closet door.
The sight that greeted them was nothing short of tragic comedy .
“OH MY GOD,” Oikawa yelled.
He stared at them, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, his hand falling off Iwaizumi’s collar like he’d forgotten how to grip things.
Hinata squeaked. Kageyama nearly dropped him.
“What. The actual. Hell?” Oikawa said, eyes flicking between them like he couldn’t decide whether to scream or laugh.
“GET OUT!” Kageyama roared, grabbing Hinata and pulling him away from the wall.
“You’re in my supply closet!” Oikawa fired back. “This is my school! This is sacred territory!”
Hinata scrambled off of Kageyama like he’d touched a live wire. “We didn’t— We were just— It’s not what it looks like!”
“It’s exactly what it looks like!” Oikawa shrieked. “Do I need to get Iwa-chan to put it in writing for you?!”
Kageyama blinked, still flustered but seething. “Well, you can’t judge us! You were literally about to smoosh your face into Iwaizumi’s!”
Oikawa flushed a brilliant red with Iwaizumi matching his tone.
Suga arrived just in time to see Oikawa emerging from the closet looking like he’d just come out of a sauna, followed by Kageyama and Hinata, who were standing like they’d been caught sneaking out of hell.
Suga blinked slowly. “You two. Closet. Again?”
Hinata buried his face in Kageyama’s shoulder. Kageyama looked up at the ceiling like maybe it would open and suck him into the void.
Daichi rounded the corner next, took one look at the scene, and just said, “I’m going to need a minute.”
Behind him, Tanaka and Nishinoya leaned around the wall to get a better look.
“Oh my god,” Tanaka whispered. “They really do have a death wish.”
“You think they used the mop bucket?” Noya whispered back.
Kageyama’s face turned bright red. “WE DID NOT USE THE BUCKET!”
Oikawa, still fuming, stormed off muttering, “Disrespectful little makeout goblins…”
Hinata muttered angrily, “You were literally about to smush your face into Iwaizumi’s.”
Suga sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We are having another team meeting tonight. And this time, I’m printing handouts.”
Hinata whimpered. “Please don’t include diagrams…”
THE FIFTH TIME
The door clicked shut with a definitive thunk , muffling the distant chatter of their teammates still lingering in the gym.
Kageyama barely had time to double-check the lock before he felt a familiar tug on his collar and warm breath against his cheek.
“Finally,” Hinata murmured, his voice low and eager.
Kageyama opened his mouth to say something—maybe a warning, maybe a protest—but Hinata didn’t wait. He surged forward, catching Kageyama’s lips in a kiss that was all teeth and heat. It was messy and immediate and absolutely Hinata.
Kageyama groaned softly into it, already letting go.
They’d been toeing the line all day—sneaking glances during drills, brushing hands when they didn’t need to, lingering too long in the locker room. It was inevitable. The second they were alone, the tension snapped.
“Just a minute,” Kageyama managed between kisses. His voice was already hoarse. “Everyone’ll be back soon.”
Hinata just hummed, one hand buried in Kageyama’s hair, the other sliding beneath his practice jersey to touch bare skin. “So be quick.”
Quick turned into five minutes. Five turned into ten. And by the time twenty had passed, Kageyama had Hinata pressed into his futon, shirt discarded somewhere near the closet, and was currently mouthing at his stomach like a man starved—leaving a constellation of hickeys across Hinata’s ribs that would absolutely get them yelled at during tomorrow’s uniform check.
Hinata’s face was flushed all the way down to his chest, one arm thrown over his face, the other gripping Kageyama’s wrist like he could anchor himself there. He let out a breathy laugh, squirming as Kageyama nipped at his side.
“You’re—ugh—such a menace,” he whispered, breath hitching when Kageyama’s tongue dipped lower.
Kageyama huffed. “You started it.”
And then the door slammed open.
“DID YOU GUYS HEAR WHAT TANAKA SAID TO THE—”
The chaotic noise of several teenage boys immediately filled the dorm room as the rest of Karasuno’s volleyball team came crashing in. Laughter. Towels being thrown. Sneakers squeaking against the floor.
And then—a sudden, suffocating silence.
Tsukishima froze mid-step, Sugawara walked straight into the back of him, and Yamaguchi’s mouth dropped open.
In the middle of the room, under the dim dorm lighting, Kageyama was bent over shirtless Hinata, clearly kissing his stomach, both of them looking very, very guilty.
Tsukishima made a noise of pure horror, like a dying cat, then immediately slapped a hand over Yamaguchi’s eyes. “Nope. No. Absolutely not. Burn it. Burn it all.”
Yamaguchi sputtered. “Wha—I—Tsukki?! I can’t see!”
“That’s the point,” Tsukishima snapped.
Sugawara stood frozen, mouth open, clearly trying to formulate a response. None came.
Tanaka, Noya, and Asahi, bringing up the rear, walked into the scene with increasingly horrified expressions.
Noya pointed. “Is Kageyama kissing his stomach?! ”
Hinata yelped and scrambled to sit up, clutching his shirt to his chest like it was armor.
Kageyama, for once, looked completely frozen, halfway through a guilty flinch, his hands hovering awkwardly in midair.
And then— doom approached.
Daichi’s footsteps sounded in the hallway outside. Sharp. Purposeful. Deadly.
Tsukishima turned to flee, still dragging Yamaguchi like a human shield. “We were never here.”
But it was too late. Daichi appeared in the doorway, a massive whiteboard tucked under one arm, dry-erase markers jangling in a pouch at his side.
“Tsukishima, watch where you’re going—”
He stopped.
The room went so quiet you could hear the blood drain from Kageyama’s face.
Daichi stared. And stared.
His gaze snapped from Kageyama’s guilty hands to Hinata’s flushed, shirtless form, and then to the dark marks marring his abdomen.
Then, he exploded.
“HINATA. WHY ARE YOU SHIRTLESS?!”
“KAGEYAMA. WHY ARE YOU KISSING HINATA’S STOMACH?!”
Hinata opened his mouth but all that came out was a high-pitched “Aaaahhh—”
Daichi thundered into the room like an earthquake with leadership responsibilities. “YOU—YOU ABSOLUTE GREMLINS ! You made out for twenty whole minutes an hour ago ! Do you think I enjoy these Boundaries and Shared Spaces meetings?! DO YOU THINK I CHOOSE THIS LIFE?!”
He brandished the whiteboard like a weapon. “THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A PRECAUTIONARY LESSON. A THEORETICAL DISCUSSION.”
Tsukishima snorted. Loudly. Then immediately turned it into a fake cough.
Daichi pointed at him. “DON’T LAUGH. YOU’RE ON THIN ICE TOO, FOUR-EYES.”
Yamaguchi peeked through Tsukishima’s fingers. “Wait, why is Tsukki on thin ice—”
“I SAW YOU LEAVING THAT CLOSET WITH YAMAGUCHI LAST WEEK. I HAVE EYES, YOU KNOW.”
Tsukishima looked personally offended. “We were organizing shoe cubbies!”
Daichi’s eyes narrowed. “ Were you?”
Sugawara, finally regaining control of his body, raised a hesitant hand. “Daichi, should we maybe—de-escalate? They’re, um, technically clothed. Sort of.”
Daichi took a deep breath.
Then slowly exhaled.
Then turned to the group like a teacher on the verge of canceling recess for the year.
“Everyone. Sit down. Meeting. Now. ”
A collective groan went up from the team.
Hinata buried his face in his pillow. Kageyama looked like he wanted to sink into the earth. Tanaka whispered, “Thirty minutes at least.” Noya held up two fingers. “Nah, forty-five. He brought the diagrams .”
As Daichi clicked the cap off his marker and turned toward the whiteboard with the fury of a man who had had enough , Tsukishima leaned over to Yamaguchi and muttered under his breath:
“At least it wasn’t on my bed this time.”
The group trudged to their seats with the air of teenagers forced into detention—except, of course, Kageyama and Hinata, who had yet to fully recover from the scene they’d just created.
Daichi, on the other hand, was already writing furiously on the whiteboard as if erasing the last ten minutes of chaos from his mind. The markers squeaked louder than necessary, and every squeak seemed to reverberate with a kind of tension that could only come from one thing: resentment .
“Alright,” Daichi said, his voice surprisingly calm but his eyes like daggers. “ Boundaries . Shared Spaces . We’ve been over this a hundred times, but clearly, you two ,” he gestured sharply at Hinata and Kageyama, who were still sitting awkwardly at the edge of their futon, “haven’t gotten the message. AGAIN.”
Hinata winced. “It wasn’t that bad…”
Kageyama cut in, voice tight, “We weren’t—”
“ SILENCE , the two of you.” Daichi’s voice was firm, sharper than ever. “You guys were practically dry-humping each other in front of the whole team. What happened to keeping it lowkey, huh?”
Tanaka and Noya burst out laughing, trying to stifle it behind their hands, but their shoulders shook in rhythm with their suppressed snickers.
Daichi didn’t spare them a glance. Instead, he turned back to the whiteboard, his hand twitching as he began underlining the words he’d written: Respect Personal Boundaries. Respect Shared Spaces. Keep Things Appropriate. And DO NOT Kiss Your Teammates’ Stomachs in Public.
“I swear to god,” Daichi muttered under his breath, then turned to face the team fully, trying to maintain some semblance of order. “Let’s start from the top. Boundaries . What does that mean, people?”
Sugawara raised his hand carefully, his tone oddly serious as if this was a real discussion. “It means… respecting each other's space, both physical and emotional. Not crossing lines without consent.”
“Good. Good,” Daichi nodded, pleased. “But apparently, some of us need reminders on what that means, especially when we’re in close quarters.” He shot a pointed glare at Kageyama, who was glaring back at him with a mixture of confusion and defensiveness.
“It wasn’t like—” Kageyama began, but Daichi held up a hand to silence him.
“No. No excuses. No. We can’t have this happening again. Do I need to start writing down a list of Do’s and Don’ts for you two?” Daichi’s gaze flickered to Hinata and Kageyama.
“Honestly, Daichi,” Tsukishima piped up from the back, arms crossed, “you did walk in on them. Maybe you should’ve knocked first.”
“Tsukishima,” Daichi warned with a death stare, his voice dangerously low, “if you open your mouth again, you’re next .”
Tsukishima didn’t flinch. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on thin ice anyway.”
“Shut it,” Daichi hissed, rubbing his temples in frustration. He gave an exasperated sigh before looking at the rest of the team, who were now all trying (and failing) to look as innocent as possible.
“Alright,” he said, voice calming slightly. “Now, let’s move on. Shared spaces. We all live here. We share a dorm. A small dorm. With thin walls. So when two people start—” He paused, biting back a grimace. “—doing whatever that was,” he nodded toward Hinata and Kageyama, who both quickly sunk lower into their seats. “It’s not just awkward for you two, okay? It’s awkward for everyone . It’s a shared space, guys. Everywhere is a shared space.”
Sugawara raised his hand again, trying to salvage the situation. “What Daichi means is that we need to keep it respectful. We all live in tight quarters, and no one wants to be overhearing that kind of stuff—”
“No one wants to see it either,” Tsukishima muttered under his breath.
Sugawara shot him a glare but continued, “It’s not just about what we do, it’s about thinking about how our actions affect the people around us. Okay?”
The room was quiet for a beat. Even Tanaka and Noya had stopped snickering. Kageyama and Hinata both nodded, still too embarrassed to say much, but the gravity of the discussion was starting to settle in.
Daichi was now standing in front of the board, scribbling in bullet points. “ Appropriate behavior in shared spaces. Keep it low. Keep it respectful. And for the love of everything sacred, keep it off the futons .” He paused, looking over at Hinata with a pointed stare. “ Especially when you’re in full view of the rest of the team.”
Hinata squirmed in his seat, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Kageyama had his arms crossed tightly, his eyes darting anywhere but Daichi’s face.
“Now,” Daichi continued, pacing in front of them, “We’re all responsible for maintaining boundaries. If you feel uncomfortable with something someone else is doing, you need to say something. No one gets a free pass. And if you’re the one doing something uncomfortable…” He paused, looking straight at Kageyama and Hinata. “ YOU need to be aware.”
Hinata gulped. “Right... we got it.”
“Good,” Daichi said, his tone softening for a moment. He turned back to the board, writing one final note at the bottom: Remember: Respect in all spaces. Period.
The room went silent.
Tanaka broke the tension with a loud clap. “So, uh, can we take a break and get something to eat?”
“Yes,” Daichi replied flatly, his hands on his hips. “But only if you promise not to make out in the kitchen.”
There was a long pause.
“Are we not allowed to kiss in the kitchen?” Noya asked innocently, earning a sharp glare from Daichi.
“NO. No kissing. In the kitchen. Or anywhere else,” Daichi shot back. “We’re a team, not a dating service.”
“Well, in that case,” Tanaka grinned, “I guess I’ll just take my snacks in peace, then.”
As the team slowly broke apart, heading toward the kitchen, Tsukishima muttered, “I didn’t know the ‘Boundaries and Shared Spaces’ talk would be this entertaining.”
Sugawara sighed deeply, then turned to Hinata and Kageyama. “Next time… maybe keep it in your pants until the meeting’s over?”
“Noted,” Hinata said with a sheepish grin, his face still bright red.
Kageyama just nodded, his arms crossed, finally allowing himself a little sigh of relief.
The rest of the team slowly shuffled out, some still chuckling under their breaths, but at least the tension was starting to ease. Daichi took one last look at the whiteboard, then wiped it clean, muttering to himself about “ this never happening again .”
As the door clicked closed behind him, Tsukishima leaned over to Yamaguchi, still sitting awkwardly beside him, and whispered with a grin, “Do you think we’ll survive another one of these?”
Yamaguchi chuckled nervously. “I’m not so sure anymore.”
THE ONE TIME
The gym was silent (yes that’s where they get married), save for the soft shuffle of footsteps across the polished floor and the soft rustle of Hinata’s wedding suit as he adjusted it for the hundredth time. His hands were slightly clammy, his heart racing with excitement— and a little bit of terror —but the wide grin on his face made it clear that all the nerves were just part of the package deal.
Across the aisle, Kageyama stood tall, looking impossibly sharp in his tailored suit. His usual intimidating aura was slightly softened by the light dusting of nervousness in his gaze. His eyes flickered toward Hinata, and for a brief moment, he could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat. This wasn’t just another day—it was their day. Their wedding day .
The Karasuno team sat in the front rows, most of them fighting back tears, some of them pretending they were too tough to cry. Daichi was already dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief, Sugawara was trying to hold it together with a shaky smile, and even Tsukishima, who wasn’t known for his sentimentality, had a soft, approving look in his eyes.
The only ones truly unaffected were Tanaka and Noya, who were leaning forward, grinning like two proud older brothers, barely holding back the loud whoops they wanted to shout.
Hinata couldn’t help but catch the look in Kageyama’s eyes. They exchanged a glance, an unspoken word between them—a silent acknowledgment that, against all odds, they had made it here, standing together at the altar. From the first time they had played together on the court to this moment, everything had led them to this point.
As the officiant spoke, a warm smile spread across their faces. Their vows were exchanged quietly, each word dripping with sincerity, each promise one that seemed to hold all the weight of their shared history—their victories, their losses, their awkward silences, and their intimate conversations.
And then, the moment arrived.
The officiant smiled at them, his voice steady. “And now, by the power vested in me, I pronounce you… husband and husband.”
For a brief moment, time seemed to slow.
Hinata’s heart was pounding as if he could hear it in his ears. It was a feeling unlike any he’d ever had before—a mix of excitement, nerves, and a deep, overwhelming sense of rightness. He could feel the gaze of his teammates on him, the quiet hum of anticipation in the air. But more than anything, he could feel Kageyama, standing there with him, the person he had spent years building this life with.
The officiant gave them a nod. “You may now kiss the groom.”
This was it.
This was the moment they had waited for—the one time they actually wanted everyone to see. And when they kissed, they weren’t just sealing the deal in front of their teammates; they were sharing their love with everyone who had been part of their journey.
Kageyama leaned forward first, his hand gently cupping Hinata’s face as if it was second nature. It felt natural, the way their lips met. The kiss was slow, gentle, and full of promises—just as it always had been, but now in a way that felt more official, more real than ever before. The crowd erupted into applause, but neither of them cared about the noise. It was just them.
For the first time in years, it was just them.
Hinata felt Kageyama’s grip tighten around him as they pulled away, both of them smiling through the lingering kiss. The sound of cheers and clapping swirled around them, but their focus remained on each other.
From the front row, Tanaka, Noya, and Asahi had to literally hold each other back from shouting a “Hell yeah!” , their eyes wet with unshed tears. Even Tsukishima’s lips twitched into something close to a smirk, and he gave Yamaguchi a slight nod—acknowledging that, yes, this was actually happening.
“Okay, okay,” Daichi sniffled, clapping his hands together to get the attention of the now-beaming couple. “We all know you two have been the worst at hiding your feelings, but now we can all finally breathe easy. The worst kept secret is out.”
Sugawara chuckled softly, wiping his eyes. “I honestly thought this day would never come.”
Kageyama pulled back slightly, still holding onto Hinata with a tender grip. He looked over at the team with a rare soft smile, his eyes bright. “We didn’t want to keep it from anyone. Just… not like that.”
Hinata grinned. “But now we can officially say we’re not hiding it anymore, right?”
Tanaka slapped Noya’s back as they both stood, clearly overjoyed. “Well, now that the kiss is out of the way, can we get some snacks? I’m starving.”
“ This is why I didn’t want a wedding,” Kageyama grumbled with a sigh, though it was evident by the way his lips curled that he was at ease.
Hinata nudged him lightly. “But this one’s ours .”
“Yeah,” Kageyama said, glancing at him, the corners of his mouth twitching up in that subtle smile only Hinata seemed to get. “ Ours .”
As they turned to face the audience again, the team erupted into applause once more, but this time, it was with smiles, laughter, and no shame. The walls of tension and uncertainty that had once surrounded their relationship had finally crumbled, leaving only pure joy in its wake.
It wasn’t just about the kiss or the wedding. It was about the years of growing together, of learning from each other, of being two halves that had come together to form something whole. And now, with everyone they loved watching them, they could finally—finally—celebrate that.
Their kiss wasn’t just a moment for them. It was a promise to everyone in that room. A promise that no matter what challenges came their way, they’d face them together—stronger than ever.
The only thing that could’ve made this moment more perfect was the excited whisper of Tanaka as he leaned over to Nishinoya:
“ They totally did it on purpose. ”
Noya snickered. “I knew it.”
And in the back of the room, Tsukishima’s dry voice could be heard clearly: “Well, if they weren’t going to kiss in front of us, when else were they going to do it?”
The whole team—laughter, tears, and all—was finally at peace with what had been obvious all along: this was their family. This was their love.
And it was just the beginning .