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Summary
“Did you learn how to do that in Italy?” Kageyama’s neck is salty, warm from all of their practice, from this. He can’t help but drag his tongue flat against his jugular post-incrimination, like a cat licking a wound.
“That’s like your fourth question,” Kageyama starts, tilting his head to the side to give Hinata more access, the inky tendrils of his hair hanging in the balance. “And no, I learned it from watching things.”
Oh. Well, that does something entirely axis-shifting to Hinata's world, a heat rushing through him like he’s been razed to nothing but that thought. Kageyama masturbating. Kageyama fucking himself in his hands in the shower, in his bed, hell, in the locker room—thinking about how to make this better.
“For me?” Hinata pauses, teeth grazing the skin now instead. A threat on the tips of his canines.
“Because of you.”
In which Hinata plays well enough to deserve what he's wanted for years.