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The first night of training camp always had a strange sort of excitement to it, a mixture of exhaustion from travel and anticipation for the long days of practice that would follow. The students had long since been sent to their rooms after dinner, and for once the adults had the rare opportunity to relax without a swarm of energetic volleyball players surrounding them.
Which was how I found myself sitting in a small, warmly lit bar near the inn with Ukai, Coach Nekomata, Fukurodani’s coaching staff, and Tanaka’s older sister Saeko, who had apparently insisted on joining us after helping drive some of the players earlier that evening.
I had intended, at the beginning of the night, to have perhaps one drink.
Maybe two.
The problem was that everyone else at the table seemed to drink like they had been doing it for years, glasses appearing and disappearing in easy succession while laughter rolled freely across the table.
So naturally, wanting to be polite, I simply drank the same things they did.
This, in hindsight, may have been a mistake.
I didn’t realize quite how warm and light my head had become until I laughed a little too hard at something Saeko said and felt the room sway ever so slightly.
Ukai noticed.
Of course he noticed.
He leaned back in his chair, one arm draped over the backrest, glass loosely in hand, his voice rough and amused as he said, “You holding up okay there, Specs?”
“I’m perfectly fine,” I replied with what I believed was great dignity.
Saeko barked a laugh.
“You’re red,” she said bluntly.
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
Coach Nekomata chuckled quietly into his drink.
Ukai, meanwhile, had begun laughing in that gravelly, half-wheezing way of his that made his shoulders shake.
“I think we broke him,” he said.
“I am not broken,” I insisted, though admittedly my words might have slurred slightly together.
Someone suggested pool.
The bar had an old table tucked near the back wall, its green felt worn but serviceable, and the idea was immediately met with enthusiasm.
Coach Nekomata declared he would spectate rather than participate, claiming his old bones had no interest in bending over a table all night.
Saeko clapped her hands together.
“Alright, teams. I’m stealing Fukurodani’s coach.”
“That doesn’t sound fair,” I said.
Ukai snorted.
“You’re with me, Specs.”
And so the teams were set.
Saeko and Fukurodani’s coach went first, and they were surprisingly good, sinking two balls in quick succession while offering smug commentary the entire time.
Ukai leaned beside me, cue resting against his shoulder as he watched.
“You ever played before?” he asked.
“Once or twice,” I admitted.
“Confident answer.”
“I am a confident person.”
“Sure you are.”
When my turn came, I stepped up to the table and attempted to line up a shot.
I bent over slightly.
Immediately I became aware of two things.
One, my coordination was not as precise as usual.
Two, Ukai had moved very close behind me.
“Hold on,” he said, voice lower now.
His hand reached around, adjusting my grip on the cue.
“Like this.”
The warmth of his body pressed near my back, and before I could quite process what was happening, he stepped even closer, positioning himself directly behind me.
“Your stance is off,” he murmured.
His hand settled lightly on my hip, guiding me a fraction to the side.
My breath caught.
The position meant that when I leaned forward again, the back of my hips brushed against him.
Specifically against—
Oh.
Oh.
My face grew hotter.
Ukai didn’t seem to notice.
Or perhaps he did and simply chose not to acknowledge it.
“Relax your shoulders,” he said.
His voice was right by my ear.
I could smell his cologne, something faint and woodsy mixed with the natural warmth of his skin.
“Look at the angle,” he continued, guiding the cue forward slightly. “Don’t rush it.”
I tried very hard to concentrate on the ball.
Very hard.
Behind me, Ukai shifted slightly as I drew the cue back.
My hips bumped him again.
He inhaled quietly.
The ball rolled forward.
Clack.
It dropped neatly into the pocket.
Saeko groaned dramatically.
“Oh come on.”
Ukai chuckled low behind me.
“Nice shot, Specs.”
We played surprisingly well after that.
Perhaps it was Ukai’s steady guidance, or perhaps it was the alcohol loosening my nerves, but by the final round the table had grown quiet with anticipation.
Saeko lined up the eight ball.
Missed.
Ukai handed me the cue with a small grin.
“All you.”
I lined up the shot.
This time he didn’t stand quite as close, though I could still feel the heat of him beside me.
The cue struck clean.
The ball dropped.
Ukai threw his hands up.
“Game!”
“We lost by one ball!” Saeko protested.
“Still lost.”
Coach Nekomata laughed softly.
By the time we stepped outside to walk back toward the inn, the air had grown sharply cold, the kind that made your breath visible in soft white clouds.
The snow crunched faintly under our shoes.
The night felt quiet and wide.
My head felt… pleasantly light.
Floaty, in the best possible way.
Ukai walked beside me with his hands in his jacket pockets.
“You good, Specs?” he asked.
“Very good,” I said.
“You look like you’re hovering.”
“I might be.”
He chuckled.
“Lightweight.”
“Perhaps,” I admitted.
We reached the inn after a short walk, the others peeling off toward their respective rooms with sleepy goodnights.
Ukai and I ended up lingering outside our doors for a moment.
I hesitated.
Then, because I was apparently very brave when intoxicated, I said, “Ukai.”
“Hm?”
“Can I sleep with you tonight?”
He blinked.
“Because,” I added quickly, “it’s cold.”
Ukai stared at me for a second.
Then he scratched the back of his neck.
“…Yeah, alright.”
The room was warm but dimly lit, the soft yellow glow of a bedside lamp casting long shadows across the floor.
We changed quickly and climbed into the bed, the blankets thick and comfortable.
For a while we just lay there talking.
“Saeko’s terrifying with a pool cue,” I said.
Ukai laughed.
“She cheats.”
“She absolutely cheats.”
A moment of quiet passed before I said, “Do an impression of Tanaka.”
Ukai turned his head toward me.
“Oh you want impressions?”
“Yes.”
He cleared his throat dramatically.
“‘SENPAI NOTICE ME!’”
I burst into helpless laughter.
“That’s not what he sounds like!”
“That’s exactly what he sounds like.”
“No it isn’t!”
“Alright then,” he said. “You do one.”
I thought for a moment.
Then in my best attempt at Nishinoya’s voice I shouted, “‘ROLLING THUNDER!’”
Ukai wheezed.
“Oh my god.”
“Wait wait,” I said through laughter. “Okay—guess who this is.”
I slouched dramatically and muttered in a low monotone, “‘I guess that was… adequate.’”
Ukai slapped the mattress.
“Tsukishima!”
“Yes!”
We kept going like that for far longer than we probably should have, laughing so hard at one point that both of us had to clutch our sides.
“I’m going to wake the entire building,” Ukai said between breaths.
“Worth it.”
At some point during all of this, his arm had settled around my shoulders.
I didn’t remember exactly when it happened.
But my head had naturally come to rest against his bicep.
And I realized, somewhat belatedly, that Ukai was significantly more muscular than I had initially assumed.
The sleeve of his shirt had ridden up slightly.
My gaze drifted downward.
Under the thin fabric, his stomach was clearly defined, the subtle ridges of a six-pack shifting as he breathed.
I felt a sudden rush of warmth that had nothing to do with alcohol.
Ukai had a rugged sort of handsomeness that I had perhaps been deliberately ignoring until this moment.
The faint smell of his cologne mixed with the natural warmth of his skin.
His thick eyebrows, the small slit cutting through one of them that somehow made him look perpetually intimidating.
The sharp line of his jaw.
The movement of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed.
His hands rested loosely against the blanket, veins visible along the backs of them in a way that made them look… very capable.
Good for—
I cleared my throat and firmly redirected my thoughts.
Beside me, Ukai’s blinking had grown slower.
His breathing had deepened slightly.
“You should sleep,” I murmured.
He shifted a little.
“You sleep.”
I chuckled.
“Coach’s orders.”
“Assistant coach outranks me,” he mumbled sleepily.
“Not true.”
“Pretty sure it is.”
I snuggled a little closer without really thinking about it, resting more comfortably against him as my hand drifted absently onto his stomach.
My thumb traced lightly across the toned muscle beneath his shirt.
Ukai stiffened.
For a moment I wondered if I had crossed some invisible line.
Then slowly, gradually, he relaxed again.
His hand moved, settling gently over mine.
Neither of us said anything after that.
The quiet of the room wrapped around us, warm and soft.
And before long, sleep found us both.