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pearlsephoni · 8 months

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Just Between Us

Can also be read on AO3!

Rating: E

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairing: Kagehina (Kageyama/Hinata), mentions of Bokuaka (Bokuto/Akaashi) and Iwaoi (Iwaizumi/Oikawa)

Characters: Shoyo Hinata, Tobio Kageyama, Atsumu Miya, Kotaro Bokuto, cameos from Korai Hoshiumi, Wakatoshi Ushijima, Aran Ojiro, Tooru Oikawa, and Hajime Iwaizumi

Word Count: 12.5k

Summary: Hinata Shoyo has fulfilled his greatest dreams: reach the top of the volleyball world with Kageyama Tobio, and be loved by Kageyama Tobio. One is very public, while the other is hidden only for each other and their closest loved ones. A risk gone wrong threatens to change that.

A/N: Originally published on AO3 on June 24th for @/Lmc_thph this year's Kagehina Exchange, and beta'd by @/danatooine. Further author's notes can be found on AO3.

***

“God damn, Tobio-kun!”

Shoyo’s shoulders shot up with Kageyama’s, even though his name wasn’t called. When he looked around, he immediately saw the cause for Atsumu’s loud surprise, and his heart sank.

The broad, defined, beautiful expanse of Kageyama’s back was marred by red lines, a set of four on each of his shoulder blades like wings.

There was a burst of shuffling and murmuring as other members of the National Team tried to get a look at Kageyama’s back. To Shoyo’s relief, the setter had already tugged his practice jersey on, covering up the implicating marks.

“Didn’t think ya had it in ya!” Atsumu cooed with a shit-eating grin. “Who’s the lucky lady? Or— hold on, you’re gay, right?”

“Please stop talking, Atsumu-san,” Kageyama muttered. Atsumu did not look like he was going to listen, but Kageyama was saved by Ushijima clapping his hands and urging the lingering team members to get out to the court already.

Shoyo didn’t look away from Kageyama fast enough to avoid meeting his eyes for the briefest breath, and he felt a jolt up his spine at the stormy anger in that blue gaze.

Oh, he was fucked.

***

“Fuck me.”

Shoyo pulled away to stare wide-eyed at Kageyama. “Really? But your team won the 3-on-3’s.”

“Yeah, so I get to choose. Fuck me.”

Oh. Huh. Shoyo was straddling Kageyama’s hips, fully prepared to stretch himself out and seat himself on his thick length. That was how it usually went when Kageyama won a game, and Shoyo had nearly gotten them exposed to the team. Honestly, he’d been kind of…looking forward to what kind of punishment Kageyama was going to dole out.

Not that he was going to complain. He eagerly scrambled to climb off of Kageyama’s hips and in between his legs, grabbing the bottle of lube on the journey. “What’s the occasion?” he asked as he slicked up his fingers.

“Do I need an occasion for you to fuck me?” Kageyama grumbled.

“Mm-hm! Maybe you remembered how much you love me, or how good I played earlier, or how I fuck you better than— wah!” His clean hand just barely caught Kageyama’s foot before it could collide with his face.

“Are you going to fuck me, or not?”

“Patience, Bossy-yama,” Shoyo cooed, brushing a light kiss to the inside of Kageyama’s ankle. He heard a quiet, sharp inhale, and he smirked into Kageyama’s soft skin before brushing another kiss to his ankle, then the inside of his knee, then tracing a path along the inside of his thigh.

With every brush of his lips, Kageyama’s breaths quickened, until his lips hovered over the hard curve of Kageyama’s cock. His tongue darted out to lick at his flushed cockhead, and that finally dragged a hoarse “Sho…” from Kageyama’s wet lips.

“Hm?” Shoyo hummed, looking up with wide, innocent eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Kageyama was flushed with heavy-lidded eyes, but he still scowled down at Shoyo with stubbornly closed lips. Shoyo didn’t mind—he knew how to break him. “Gotta use your words, To-bi-o,” he sang, brushing a kiss along his cock with every syllable of his name.

“I already did,” Kageyama bit out. He wrapped a leg around Shoyo’s waist, dragging his foot up until it pressed into the small of his back. “Fuck me.”

“Bossy,” Shoyo tutted. Without warning, he sank a finger into Kageyama, smirking when his foot immediately dropped from his back and went limp on the bed, matching the way his head fell back with a low moan.

He loved fucking Kageyama, loved feeling him wrapped tight and warm around him, but he especially loved watching him unravel like this. It was one thing to watch him grit his teeth and furrow his brows with concentration as he pounded Shoyo into oblivion, that concentration breaking only when Shoyo clenched tight around him. It was another thing entirely to melt him down from the inside out.

One finger became two, then became three, all crooked perfectly and pressing just enough to pull another cry from Kageyama. “Fuck, Sho—!”

“I know,” Shoyo hushed, leaning up to ghost a kiss against Kageyama’s wet, parted lips.

“I’m ready,” Kageyama groaned. “I’m ready, c’mon, just— mmh!”

“Okay, okay!” A fond huff of laughter escaped him as he reached for the lube. “Condom?”

“No.” Sweat-damp strands of black hair clung to the pillow as Kageyama shook his head, unable to even lift it.

“Really?” The word came out as more of a moan than a question, Shoyo’s concentration nearly escaping him at the slick grip of his own hand around his throbbing cock. He was almost dizzy from how badly he wanted to pump himself fast and hard, but he held himself back, letting the wet, filthy sounds of his strokes reach both his and Kageyama’s ears. Those dark blue eyes widened for a beat, before growing heavy with desire again.

“No condom?” Shoyo murmured, leaning down just enough to bump their noses together. “You want me to fill you up? You want to spill with me? What if you can’t get it all out and it leaks tomorrow?” Anyone else might have looked mortified at the thought, but not Kageyama. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip, biting back another moan. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Want everyone to know their best setter is a slut who gets filled up after practice?”

“M’not—” Kageyama’s protest trailed off into a shuddered breath of anticipation, distracted by Shoyo lining his tip up with his stretched rim.

“I know,” Shoyo hummed with a smirk. “You don’t spread your legs for just anyone, right? The only one allowed here”—he began pushing in, watching Kageyama wilt against the bed—“is me.”

“Only you,” Kageyama breathlessly agreed, wrapping his legs around Shoyo’s hips. “C’mon, Sho, fill me up.”

“Fuck.” That was all Shoyo could manage, all his focus narrowed on slowly pushing in, bit by bit, soaking in the sound of Kageyama’s bit-back moans and the sight of his heaving, flushed chest, until their hips finally met. “Good?”

“Wait,” Kageyama gasped, eyes screwed tight from the stretch.

This was one of the only situations where Shoyo was happy to wait. He trailed kisses and lightly sucked at Kageyama’s collarbones as the setter adjusted, pulling away just to watch his bites bloom like roses against his pale skin. Normally, this was the only time he could mark Kageyama up without getting yelled at, his nags replaced with shuddering sighs from the stretch.

But instead of melting more, Kageyama seemed to become unnervingly alert, eyes fluttering up to look down at Shoyo and lips curving down around his deep breaths. When he finally said, “I’m ready,” his voice came out more as a grunt than a sigh.

Shoyo obeyed, but not without asking, “Is something wrong?”

“What?”

“You look grumpier than usual.” Truthfully, Kageyama rarely looked grumpy at all in bed, but Shoyo wasn’t going to pass up a chance to tease him.

“Maybe because a dumbass nearly had us found out today,” Kageyama snapped. Despite his grumpy words, his legs tightened around Shoyo’s hips, urging him to move.

“You like when I mark you up!”

“Yeah, in places people won’t notice! Not—ah!—scratches the whole locker room sees!”

“Who asked you to—nngh—change in the middle of the locker room?”

“Who asked you to scratch up my whole back?”

“Didn’t hear you complain last night!”

“You little—mmh!”

Shoyo dipped down and cut him off with a kiss, his hips speeding up with every bite and lick. Driving into Kageyama with nothing between them was sublime. It never failed to drive Shoyo’s greed and want higher and higher with every thrust—

“Aahhh, the hell—?!” Shoyo arched away from the nails digging into his back, scratching sharp lines down his skin and making a mixture of pain and pleasure spark through him. His hips stuttered before driving in even deeper than before, pulling a whine from Kageyama. “Ow, Tobi!”

Shoyo’s heart skipped a beat at Kageyama’s smirk. How could someone look so annoying and so hot? “Oops.”

“You were just nagging me about that!”

“I wasn’t nagging— ah, fuck, there!”

Shoyo pushed himself upright until his hands were free to clutch at Kageyama’s hips, holding him in place so he could thrust fast and deep and hard into his prostate. The pressure would’ve been too much for Shoyo, but it was perfect for Kageyama, unraveling him until he was reduced to wordless gasps and moans.

“Good, Yama?”

“Ah, ahhhh, Sho, fuck!”

“That a yes?”

“Fuck off, you know— fuck!”

Shoyo felt spellbound, watching Kageyama like this: flushed, sweaty, black hair a mess, eyes half-lidded and dazed, lips kiss-swollen and parted around helpless noises. A grin pulled at his lips when those noises grew higher and almost-panicked. That was Shoyo’s cue to wrap his hand, still slippery with traces of lube, around Kageyama’s cock. He only needed one tug to make Kageyama cry out, “Yes!” That normally-gruff voice was ragged and whining, adorned with slutty moans that Shoyo knew only he would get to hear.

“Close, Tobi?”

“Yeah, fuck, Sho—”

“C’mon, baby, come for me.” Shoyo dipped down to brush his lips over the marks he’d sucked into Kageyama’s collarbones. “I wanna feel you go all tight around me.”

He punctuated the sentence with an extra squeeze to Kageyama’s cock. That was all he needed—with a cry, Kageyama arched off of the bed as white spurted across his abs and down Shoyo’s hand. His walls rippled around Shoyo, sucking him in deeper and tighter until he had no choice but to fall over the edge behind him. “Nnh, Tobio,” he groaned, grinding in until he finally emptied himself.

His cum was already seeping out around his softening length, and when he pulled out, he could barely grab a towel in time to stem the small stream that began to leak. “Wow, I filled you up,” he laughed breathlessly.

Kageyama didn’t respond beyond a low groan until Shoyo finished wiping him as clean as he could. The moment the towel left his skin, he planted a foot on Shoyo’s stomach and gently nudged him away, wincing at the movement in his leg. “Ow,” he grunted, weakly rubbing at the underside of his thigh. “The hell did you do?”

“Gave you the best fuck of your life?” Shoyo answered sweetly, until his eyes looked at where Kageyama was rubbing. “...Oh, fuck.”

“What? What’d you do?”

“Um…” There were deep red marks right where Shoyo could remember his hips driving in. He knew he fucked Kageyama hard, but he didn’t mean to bruise him. “You…might have more marks tomorrow.”

“How?” Kageyama snapped, looking much more alert from his post-orgasm daze.

“What do you mean, how?” Shoyo snapped back. “I fucked you! It’s not my fault you bruise like a peach!”

“It’s not my fault you have such bony hips!”

“Yeah right, like you weren’t groping all over them last night!”

“God, shut up,” Kageyama growled, grabbing Shoyo around the back of his neck and pulling him into a hungry, angry kiss. Shoyo went easily, more than happy to let Kageyama flip him over and part his legs.

It looked like he was going to get that punishment after all.

***

Shoyo loved playing volleyball. He loved playing it indoors and on the beach, in Japan and in Brazil, in casual games and in international championships.

But nothing, nothing, could measure up to standing on the court with Kageyama. It didn’t matter if they were on the same team or staring at each other through the net—Shoyo felt alive playing with Kageyama in a way no other team or player had ever made him feel.

Yes, he loved playing against Kageyama as much as on the same team, but the perk of being on the National Team together was training in the same city, in the same gym. When the best of Japan’s volleyball players were gathered in Tokyo, barely a night passed where Shoyo wasn’t with Kageyama.

The only problem was, the rest of the team didn’t know they were dating. Never mind that they were as good as engaged, only missing a ring. With how public everything else about their lives was, it was almost a relief to have something so intimate, so sweet, so comfortable be kept private, just for the two of them and their closest loved ones.

So, they had a system: Shoyo rented an apartment in the same building as Kageyama’s, so that it wouldn’t seem suspicious for them to be leaving together in the morning. They staggered their returns home, and Shoyo made sure to have his hair hidden under a cap when he stayed over at Kageyama’s place. They kept up their usual bickering, teasing, comfortable rapport at practice and during games, but anything more than brushed hands or “sportly” hugs were saved until they were behind closed doors.

But they weren’t perfect. They had their close calls, their stolen kisses in deserted halls and their ill-placed marks. Shoyo especially liked to live on the edge with the marks and hickeys he left on Kageyama. Yeah, he was much more disciplined now than he had been in high school, and that included thinking through his choices more.

Man, did he like to tease the limits when it came to Kageyama. Not too much, of course. They’d managed to avoid scrutiny for the most part. The instance with Atsumu was an isolated incident, nothing more. When Shoyo woke up the next morning to find scratches down his back, hickeys along his collarbones and the hollow of his throat, and bruises pressed into his thighs and hips, he wasn’t that alarmed. Sure, some would be trickier to properly hide, but even if some showed, it’d be fine. It wasn’t like any of them would be photographed or otherwise immortalized.

Then they walked into the gym, and were faced by their coach and two photographers lingering at his elbow. “Ah, Hinata, Kageyama, welcome!” their coach greeted them.

“Hey, Coach.” Shoyo answered for himself and Kageyama. “Who’re, um…”

“Ah, them?” Their coach threw a careless glance over his shoulder. “I’ll go into more detail when the rest of the team gets here, but basically: the Olympics committee wanted to build up some hype for the upcoming games, so they’re sending photographers to get shots of all of Japan’s national teams in action.”

Shoyo’s stomach dropped. “...Photos?”

“Yeah?” Shoyo squirmed under their coach’s raised brow. “Is there a problem?”

“N-no! Not at all, just…” Shoyo slapped on an attempt at his usual charismatic smile. “I forgot to double-check my good side, Coach!”

“Oh, ha ha. Go change and warm up.”

Kageyama had stayed silent through the exchange, and managed to hold himself together until they were alone in the locker room. “What the fuck?!” he hissed.

“What?!”

“What do you mean, what? We’re getting photographed, dumbass! For the whole country to see! Shit, maybe the whole world, oh, fuck me—”

“Already did,” Shoyo joked automatically, only for his words to crack into a yelp when Kageyama sank his fingers into his hair.

“Shut up! Look what you did!” With his free hand, Kageyama jerked aside his collar, and Shoyo winced at what was revealed: clusters of now-purpling bruises lined his collarbones and reached the precise line where the collar of his shirt landed. “The second I raise my arms to set and lower them again, everyone will see these! Including the photographers.”

Shoyo winced, not even bothering to squirm when Kageyama yanked his collar aside to look at the damage he’d created. He watched that handsome face go pale, and felt his stomach grow leaden with dread. “What…what do we do?”

“What can we do?” Kageyama grumbled. “We’ll just have to hope we play well enough to distract people from…anything else.”

He began pulling away, but Shoyo caught his hand and, after making sure they were alone in the locker room, chanced a brush to his palm. “I’m sorry, Tobi. I didn’t know—”

“Dumbass, don’t apologize. I went overboard, too.” Kageyama brushed his thumb across the back of Shoyo’s hand before finally pulling away. “Come on. We gotta warm up.”

Predictably, but thankfully, practice ended up being exactly what they needed to distract themselves. Even if it was less of a proper practice and more of an impromptu publicity photoshoot. Shoyo didn’t mind, not when the very photographers they’d feared ended up directing him and Kageyama to carry out both freak and regular quick attacks. Yes, there was a special thrill that came from landing the freak quick during an actual match. But when Shoyo whirled towards Kageyama for a celebratory high five, and his smile was met by a grin of pride and quiet adoration, the rush of love he felt still filled him with warmth and happiness separate from the court.

“Wow, Kageyama, how come we never see that smile in your ads?” Hoshiumi chuckled from the sidelines after the fifth quick for the cameras.

Kageyama’s cheeks flushed a pretty pink that was different from the usual ruddiness of exercise. “It’s…it’s because I’m never playing in those ads.”

“You play in the Power Curry ads,” Ushijima remarked, not to tease, just to state a fact. “But you never smile in those.”

“Because I’m focusing.”

“So you’re not focused when you toss to me?” Shoyo gasped, eager to join the group teasing. “Are you distracted with your precious freak attack partner, Yama-kun?”

“My what?” Any and all signs of embarrassment were sapped by annoyance as Kageyama shot a hand towards Shoyo’s head. He missed, as usual, because Shoyo expected it, as usual. “I’m not distracted, dumbass, just…” The truth was clear in his eyes, but stalled on his tongue, leaving him stumped and not a little panicked.

“You’re happy playing with Hinata-kun!” Bokuto oh-so-helpfully piped with a bright smile. “I get it, man, I felt the same way playing with Keiji! His tosses were always the best!”

“Bokkun, ya wound me so.”

“Aw, that’s not what I meant—”

Bokuto’s interruption was both the best and worst thing that could’ve happened. Kageyama looked like he might pass out from their partnership being loudly compared to what Bokuto had with his husband, and Shoyo, for his part, felt like he would get whiplash from how quickly he looked at the photographers to see if they’d connected any dreaded dots.

To his relief, they looked too busy snapping photos of the entire interaction, with the team lead looking delighted by all the shots of the team’s natural rapport. “I’ve photographed a lot of teams over the past few weeks,” he laughed to their coach, “and these guys are definitely the most close-knit bunch we’ve seen. What’s your secret, Coach?”

“No secret here. Just the team’s history with each other. It’s not often you have an Olympic team that played with and against each other in high school.”

“It definitely makes a difference.”

The photography team lead didn’t make any other comments after that, but for the rest of the practice, Shoyo couldn’t shake the distinct feeling that he was being watched.

***

Shoyo loved the National Team. He really did. If he could tell his high school self that he’d be playing on a team with Ushijima, Bokuto, Hoshiumi, Ojiro, and Atsumu, on top of all the other great players he’d admired, he was sure he would’ve seen his 16-year-old brain implode.

Yes, he loved this team. But sometimes…sometimes they got the worst ideas, and decided to make it the rest of the team’s problem.

Exhibit A: they had just finished their final practice before the few days they got to have as a break before they moved into the Olympic Village and began preparations for the opening ceremony. Instead of going home and getting a good night’s rest to let their bodies recover from practice, they were now sitting in an izakaya sharing enough beers and snacks to send the workers into a bit of a panic.

All thanks to Atsumu and Hoshiumi.

Shoyo wouldn’t have minded—he’d managed to build up a bit more of a tolerance in Rio, though he usually didn’t have more than a beer at a time once he’d joined the V.League. Kageyama, on the other hand…

“Yama, sit up,” Shoyo hissed, trying to fit his hands under Kageyama’s ribs to push him away. It didn’t work: Kageyama lifted an inch or two from Shoyo’s push…and fell right back over his shoulders. It was all Shoyo could do to not tip over from the extra weight.

“Alright there, Hinata?”

Shoyo looked up to see Ojiro watching him from across the table, brows raised over curious gray eyes. “Ah, yeah! I just…always forget what a lightweight Yama is.”

He punctuated his words with a poke at Kageyama’s side. Somehow, that worked to get him to sit up better than his shove. Annoyance pricked at him, but was quickly swept away by fond exasperation when Kageyama jerked upright, frowned into his almost-empty beer mug, and dully mumbled, “...Ow.”

“Hey, man,” Ojiro started, sounding like he was making a valiant attempt to hold back his laughter, “how much have you had to drink?”

Kageyama blinked slowly at Ojiro, visibly processing the question before silently raising three fingers. “M’not drunk,” he managed to mumble, “just…tipsy.”

“Alright, if you’re sure. How much more are you going to drink?”

Kageyama shrugged.

“You get one more beer,” Shoyo answered instead, raising a single, stubborn finger up to Kageyama’s face and grinning when his boyfriend nearly went cross-eyed trying to look at it. “One more! And that’s it!”

“Dumbass, you’re not my mom,” Kageyama grumbled, pushing away his finger with a frown that Shoyo easily recognized as his embarrassed grimace.

Shoyo, for his part, allowed himself to add one more shot to his tally of one beer and two shots. He was good about slowly nursing his beer, but he could never put up a good fight when Bokuto and Atsumu offered him shots of shochu. By the time the team finally cleared out of the izakaya, a flush was warming his face and he was laughing a little louder than usual. Kageyama, on the other hand, had gone basically silent, and was swaying like a tree in a non-existent breeze.

Loud laughter echoed in the night air when Atsumu pulled Shoyo into a hug, covering his quiet, “Sure you’ll be okay getting him back?”

“Yes, Tsumu-san,” Shoyo laughed with a reassuring pat on his back. “This isn’t my first time dealing with him drunk.”

“You’ll have to tell me that story later,” Atsumu chuckled before pulling away. “Be careful, Tobio-kun!” he said, whacking Kageyama on the shoulder and grinning when his fellow setter stumbled from the force. “I’ll never forgive ya if you squish my favorite spiker!”

Kageyama finally looked halfway alert when he frowned at Atsumu and grumbled, “He’s my spiker.” The quiet words were quickly overwhelmed by Bokuto and Hoshiumi’s affronted gasps at Atsumu’s declaration, but Shoyo heard him loud and clear, grinning wide as Kageyama dodged his gaze with scarlet ears.

He waited for the rest of the team to disperse before whispering, “Can you walk?”

“Yeah!” Kageyama answered a little too loudly. “Of course I can!”

They made it all of four blocks before Shoyo threw up his hands. “Alright, that’s it!” He crouched in front of Kageyama. “Climb on.”

He didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know his boyfriend was blinking down at him with a confused frown. “...What?”

“Climb on! I’ll piggyback you home.”

“Dumbass, you can’t carry me!”

“Yes, I can! Come on!”

“I’m gonna squish you!”

“Then squish me! At least we can get home faster!”

“M’not that slow.”

Shoyo scowled at the sidewalk when his back remained weight-free. “What’s wrong, Yama?” he suddenly cooed, inspiration striking just in time. “Scared I’ll carry you further than you can carry me?”

“M’not scared!”

“Then prove it!”

For a moment, all he heard was inscrutable mumbling. Then, all at once, the weight of a soon-to-be two-time Olympic athlete fell onto his back. Compared to his slouchy weight in the izakaya, Kageyama now felt like the weight of the world falling onto Atlas’s shoulders. Or, well, Shoyo’s.

“Woah, Tobi, the hell!”

“What?! You said get on!”

“Yeah, like a human, not like a sack of rice! Nearly broke my knees.”

“Whiny dumbass.” The mutter accompanied a shifting of Kageyama’s weight on his back, and Shoyo quickly tightened his hold around his thighs before he could try to stand back up. “Lemme go.”

“Nope!” With that, Shoyo began the slow, painstaking process of getting to his feet under more than twice his usual weight. “Why’re you so heavy?!”

“Lemme go or quit whining.”

“I can carry you and whine at the same time, Drunk-yama,” Shoyo snorted. Naturally, out of everything that night, bickering was when Kageyama sounded more sober than he had all evening. “Just don’t puke on me.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Tobio!”

Unflattering snorts practically echoed in Shoyo’s left ear as a chin hooked over his shoulder. He didn’t flinch, not wanting to make Kageyama straighten up. Despite his aching body, he couldn’t help smiling at the brush of Kageyama’s nose at his cheek and his breaths ruffling his hair.

Somehow, through a sheer stubborn need to prove himself and the soft love spreading through him at Kageyama’s sleepy, drunken, snuffling breaths, Shoyo managed to reach the front stairs to their apartment building. He stared at the four measly steps up, felt the burning shake of his legs, and grunted, “Yama, get down.”

Nothing.

“Tobio!” Shoyo gathered every last bit of his strength to bounce the setter. “On your feet, c’mon!”

He heard a snort, a confused grumble, then, blessedly, all that Olympic weight slid off his back. His legs shuddered beneath him, longing to give out and let him crumple to the ground, but first: “Alright, let’s go inside.”

“No.”

Shoyo’s step forward was cut short by Kageyama tugging back on his hand. “What do you mean, no?”

“Kiss me first.”

Shoyo turned and gaped at his boyfriend, who frowned at him with a furrow to his brow that would have been frightening to anyone else, but that Shoyo recognized as being the equivalent to a childish pout. “Why?! We’re still outside!”

“Don’t care.” Kageyama took one unsteady step forward and rested his forehead on Shoyo’s. “R’you…mad at me? F’r getting drunk?”

“What? No! When have I gotten mad at you for something like that?”

“Then kiss me.”

“Tobiiiiii. What if someone sees us?”

“Say it’s my fault. M’drunk.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

Kageyama just grunted and nudged his nose against Shoyo’s. The pressure was just ticklish enough to make Shoyo break into a soft giggle. “If I kiss you, will you go inside?”

“Mm.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine. Kiss me.”

There was a beat, then Kageyama pulled away to pin Shoyo under a confused pout. “Wha?”

“I already hauled your drunk ass home! You gotta at least work for the kiss!”

Those sweet pink lips twisted, but Kageyama couldn’t argue. So he cupped Shoyo’s face in big, clumsy hands, and haphazardly teetered forward until their lips bumped each other. It reminded Shoyo of their first awkward, mismatched kiss, and when he helped fit their lips together, his were stretched into a grin.

“Quit smiling,” Kageyama mumbled into the kiss.

“I can’t! You’re too cute!”

Kageyama grumbled, but he didn’t nip at Shoyo’s lips nor try to kiss him again. He just let his head fall forward onto Shoyo’s shoulder. “Dumbass.”

“Uh-huh. Dumbass that got you home! C’mon.” Shoyo manhandled Kageyama’s arm around his shoulders and began leading him inside.

“Sho.”

“What?” Shoyo didn’t bother holding back his laughter. It wasn’t like Kageyama would remember it enough to be upset by it.

“Shtop…stop laughiiiiing.” Kageyama somehow slumped even more onto Shoyo’s shoulders. Shoyo was strong, of course he was, he couldn’t be a professional athlete if he wasn’t. But even he had his limits, and walking while carrying most of the weight of his co-athlete, very drunk, very off-balance boyfriend was threatening to step over that line.

“God, I love you so much, you lightweight idiot,” Shoyo sighed. “Are you sure you only had beer? Did Atsumu-san sneak you a shot?”

“No! No liquor! Only beer!”

“You’re like this after four beers? How did you survive Italy?!”

“They’re not…alcolics…like”—he stumbled over the edge of the elevator, and Shoyo barely managed to keep him on his feet—“like bajilics.”

“Like what?”

“Bajilics,” Kageyama repeated, sounding more certain and like he thought Shoyo was an idiot for not understanding.

“...Oh my god, do you mean Brazilians?”

“S’what I said.”

“Of course, so sorry.”

Kageyama grunted, lapsing into silence as he squished his cheek against Shoyo’s hair. “...Sho.”

This time Shoyo took care to choke back his laugh. Somehow, in the space between the izakaya and their building, the last bit of alcohol had been soaked up by Kageyama’s body and made him cross the line between sleepy silence and drunken chatter. He was only ever like this when drunk and alone with Shoyo, which wasn’t often. Truthfully, Shoyo still wasn’t used to it. “Yes, Yama?”

“I think…I drank too much.”

“Really?” Shoyo gasped. “Where’d you get an idea like that?”

He swore he could feel Kageyama’s frown pressed to his hair. “Shut up.” There was a deep sigh, a beat of silence, and then a mumbled, “Smell good.”

“What does?”

“You, dumbass.”

His cheeks grew warm. “Trying to seduce me, Tobi?”

“No,” Kageyama snorted. “If I wanted to seduce you, I’d just suck your—”

Ding!

The elevator chimed just as Shoyo slapped a hand over Kageyama’s mouth. “God, Yama, public!!”

He could feel Kageyama smile against his palm. It was the only warning he got before he was jerking his hand back from a wide lick. “Gross!”

“Gotcha,” Kageyama mumbled, immediately falling back over Shoyo’s shoulders. “M’tired.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you home.”

In hindsight, Shoyo wasn’t sure how he did it. He got Kageyama home, managed to get him to wash up as well as he could and have a bite to eat with a glass of water, then got him tucked into bed. It was hard, and annoying, and more than once Shoyo wanted to squish his cheeks until some sense was forced back into his head.

But then he looked down at Kageyama, at his sleepy blue eyes peering over his covers, and he thought his heart might burst from all the love pressing at its walls. “Good night, Tobio,” he murmured, dipping down to press a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll check on you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

He straightened up, ready to leave for his own apartment…only to be brought up short by strong fingers in his sleeve. “Stay.” The word was muffled, filtering through the thick covers obscuring Kageyama’s face.

“Tobio?”

“Stay with me. Then you…c’n check easier.”

Yeah, Shoyo’s heart was definitely going to burst by morning. “Uwah,” he gushed, letting a smitten smile pull at his lips. “You get really smart when you’re drunk!”

The fingers in his hoodie slipped away to the sound of a halfhearted growl. “Never mind. Go away.”

“Nope!”

Shoyo washed up and crawled into bed in record time, but he still couldn’t make it before Kageyama had dozed off. “You okay, Tobi?” he whispered, just in case.

“Mm.” Kageyama turned towards him and burrowed into his chest, silky black strands tickling at his chin. Strong arms wrapped tight around him, essentially locking Shoyo into bed.

“Good night,” he murmured again, laughter coloring his words.

“Mmf.”

“Love you, Tobi.”

He didn’t get an answer. But he did hear a content sigh, then the softest, snuffling little snores he ever did hear. When he fell asleep, it was with his nose buried into Kageyama’s hair and his arms holding him close like a teddy bear, the warmest, strongest, snuggliest teddy bear in the world.

And all his. Just his.

***

Shoyo was already used to being the first one up when they were both sober, so he wasn’t surprised to wake up and find Kageyama still asleep with a furrow in his brow the next morning. He was surprised to still be wrapped so tightly in his arms—usually they drifted apart at some point in the night, keeping at least a hand or arm on top of each other like an anchor. He wasn’t sure how to untangle himself without waking Kageyama up.

So, he didn’t.

“Yama,” he whispered.

“Mm.”

“Tobioooooo.”

“Mmfwhat?”

“Wake up.”

To his surprise, Kageyama actually obeyed, extracting his face from Shoyo’s chest and slowly blinking his eyes open…and immediately burrowing back in with a groan. “Too bright.”

“It’s not too bright,” Shoyo laughed. “You’re just hungover.”

“‘N you’re too loud.”

“Sorryyyy.” Shoyo lowered his voice to an exaggerated whisper. “Is this better?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Am I?”

Kageyama pulled away again, this time to narrow his eyes at Shoyo. “...Dumbass.”

“Be nice to me, or I won’t make breakfast.”

Kageyama groaned and rolled away, stuffing his face into his pillow. “Don’t wanna eat. What if I throw it up?”

“I’ll bring you some water, Your Highness, then you should be okay to eat,” Shoyo snorted as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

A foot suddenly planted itself in the small of his back and pushed him off the bed with a firm shove, forcing him to stumble to his feet. “Hey!”

“Go make breakfast.”

“Jerk,” Shoyo muttered under his breath. He pulled his phone from its charger and shuffled to the kitchen, putting the kettle on to boil while he checked his notifications.

That’s when he saw it.

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 hey man, bokkun and i kinda…followed u n tobio last night just to make sure u were actually okay to carry him! and…we saw this [photo attached]

Shoyo’s stomach dropped to his feet when he opened the image and squinted at it. It was blurry and taken from a distance with terrible zoom, but there was no mistaking his orange hair, and that was their apartment building, and he was definitely kissing a tall figure with dark hair and a black Olympics hoodie. “...Shit.”

They knew. Atsumu and Bokuto knew. They followed them last night and watched Shoyo kiss Kageyama to coax him over the threshold. The one time, the one time he indulged the chance to kiss in public, and this happened.

His fingers tightened around his phone. He nursed the irrational desire to squeeze it until it broke, but he didn’t have the money for a new phone. Besides, there were more texts from Atsumu to read.

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 we’re not gonna tell any1 ofc and i deleted the photo after sending it to u just wanted to let u what we saw since u 2 probs wanted to keep ur rs a secret idk y tho the team would understand bokkun already cant shut up bout akaashi-san

Shoyo’s stomach slowly rose back to its rightful place, only to curdle with guilt. The messages had Atsumu’s patent sense of showy apathy, but Shoyo knew him too well. He could read the hurt he felt over not being trusted.

Because he was right, at least a little. The team would understand. Never mind Bokuto and Akaashi’s marriage. Most of the team had known each other for years, down to each other’s sexualities and dating histories. They already knew Shoyo was bi and Kageyama was gay. Their relationship would barely clock as a surprise to any of them.

But telling a whole team, even a team they knew so well, felt so…public. So real. So close to being revealed to the whole world, especially considering they were an Olympic team. Keeping their relationship under wraps from the team had just been a habit to Shoyo and Kageyama. They had kept this secret for long enough that being up front about it never even occurred to either of them.

Now the consequences of that unspoken decision was glaring up at Shoyo from his phone.

What should he say? What could he say? Any apologies felt hollow, and as guilty as Shoyo felt for making Atsumu feel untrusted, he didn’t think of the reason as a mistake that needed complete rectification.

He stared at the messages and the photo for another few breaths before finally bringing his fingers to the screen.

From: me morning Atsumu-san! ah…I didn’t realize anyone was following us 😅 thanks for letting me know and for not sharing the photo with the rest of the team I promise keeping our relationship a secret from the team wasn’t anything personal! just...force of habit really I’m okay with you and Bokuto-san knowing and I’ll let Tobio know what happened but could you guys not tell anyone else? at least not yet?

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 hey dude, no worries, i get it but uh about not telling the rest of the team have u opened twitter today?

From: me ? no why?

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 remember those publicity photos from practice a few weeks back? they got published today and the photos of u and tobio r REAL popular rn

At any other time, that would have been good news, if only because Shoyo could enjoy Kageyama’s pleased embarrassment over so many people seeing his photos. But just then, in the context of the already-scary conversation he was having with Atsumu, Shoyo could only feel a heavy dread settle on his shoulders.

He closed out of his messages and opened Twitter. He didn’t even need to scroll. There, at the top of his timeline, was a tweet with photos of the volleyball team from the Olympic account, as well as a thread of individual photos from the JVA account. The photos of the full team made a tiny smile rise to Shoyo’s lips despite everything: out of the four in the post, two were of the team in action, and two featured them bantering during a break. Shoyo’s favorite showed him and Kageyama standing next to the bench, fresh off the court and chatting with Hoshiumi, Ushijima, and Bokuto, all of whom were seated and relaxed. Even Ushijima had a slight curve to his lips and a glint in his olive eyes.

Shoyo couldn’t linger too long on the Olympic tweet. Whatever Atsumu was referring to must have been in the individual shots from the JVA. So Shoyo scrolled through the thread, occasionally pausing to appreciate a good action shot, before he finally reached the tweet with Kageyama’s solo photos.

They weren’t all solo photos. In fact, two of them also featured Shoyo, which should have been the first sign of danger. In one of the actual solo photos, Kageyama was pulling his collar to his chin, revealing a hint of his chiseled, sweaty abs, and in the other, he was throwing the ball up to serve.

Then Shoyo swiped to the third photo. In it, he was soaring through the air, and Kageyama was floating next to him, tossing the ball into a perfect arc, right to Shoyo’s hand. He could practically feel the ghost of the ball hitting his palm to slam into the court. The fourth photo showed him jumping again, this time to slap a high five to Kageyama’s offered hands.

The tweet with his own individual photos were fairly similar: a resting shot, a solo action shot, an action shot with Kageyama, and a resting shot with Kageyama.

Sure, it might have been strange for them to be the only ones to share photos in the thread, but the world already knew them as the “freak duo.” It shouldn’t be surprising to see them featured together.

From: me idgi what’s wrong w the photos?

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 zoom in on them

Frowning, Shoyo obeyed, first zooming in on Kageyama’s solo shots. For a moment, he was distracted by the detailed close-up of his boyfriend’s perfect physique, as though he didn’t already get to enjoy it up close and personal every night.

Then he saw them.

There, just above Kageyama’s waistband, were two, barely-there bruises. Bruises that Shoyo knew were his fault.

Once he saw the first ones, he saw them everywhere. Kageyama sported bruises on above his waistband, along his collarbones, over his pulse point, and, most incriminating of all, between his thighs, right where Shoyo’s hips hit when he fucked Kageyama hard and ruthless.

Shit.

Bruises were common in volleyball. Hell, they were common in any sport, but especially in volleyball, where collisions with fast-moving balls and hard gym floors were the name of the game. But those bruises were on knees and elbows, maybe the insides of forearms or outsides of thighs. They weren’t in the most intimate places on a person, places where the only marks that could be found there were almost always made on purpose.

The bruises on Kageyama could not have been more clearly from sex. No wonder people were talking about his photos—who wouldn’t be tantalized by a glimpse at a sexy setter’s intimate life?

The bruises were a little risque, sure, but no cause for scandal. No, the problems came with the photos of Shoyo, and his bruises. Because he had them. A lot of them. They marred his arms, his throat, his thighs, and if he really squinted, he could just the slightest glimpse of the red scratches Kageyama had left on his back peeking above the collar of his jersey.

From: me oh shoot do u really think ppl will think we gave those to each other? we’re all adults! we do adult things!!

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 sho-kun buddy do u think tobio of all ppl usually gets marks like that?

From: me he better not!! >:(

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 …wrong q thats on me look tobio and i were on the vleague a few years longer than u ive had my fair share of scandals bc of marks being visible hickeys n stuff we all do even bokkun from akaashi-san but still but tobio didnt he never had a single scandal for dating or sex or anything then u joined the vleague and whaddaya know ushiwaka-kun texted omi bc he was worried about tobio being more bruised up than usual

From: me oh my god I'm so sorry!!

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 dont apologize i thought it was hilarious thats not the point the point is that you also had marks but somehow none of us really connected the dots until jnt practices started and wouldja look at that you *both* were looking like old apples w all them bruises tbh i suspected something a while ago but i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable then last night happened and…yeah

From: me …yeah shit Atsumu-san what do we do??

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 well 1st dont panic besides the team i dont think any1 noticed anything yeah the fans are losing their minds but thats just them being horny i dont think any1 will suspect u gave those 2 each other at least not 4 a while but i think coach will want u guys to figure out what 2 do if or when ppl get suspicious so just…brace urself ig we’re on ur side either way! 😤

From: me ok ok thanks Atsumu-san srsly this means a lot

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 ofc man lemme know if i can do anything else k?

From: me I will thank you! I’m gonna wake up Tobi and let him know what happened we’ll see you at practice!

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 tobi? tobi??

From: me …um don’t tell him I told you that

From: Atsumu-san!🏐🐺 nope too late u owe me this see u l8r

Despite the panic swirling through him, Shoyo couldn’t help scoffing a little at Atsumu’s messages. Sometimes, the setter still texted like he was using a number pad and not a proper keyboard. Dork.

His smile slid off his face when he opened the pictures once again. The photos that had been a sweet tribute to his partnership on the court with Kageyama now looked like terrible evidence, a perfect chance to compare their bruises and see where they could potentially fit together like puzzle pieces.

Shoyo wasn’t ashamed of his relationship with Kageyama. Quite the opposite, really: he wanted to shout and brag about their love from every rooftop of every building in Tokyo. But it was because they loved each other so much that they kept a tight lid on things. What they had was too precious, too hard-earned, to let others cast judgment on it. They already had enough of that from every other aspect of their careers and public lives.

Now, though…if they didn’t have a choice…then Shoyo would much rather reveal everything on their own terms. But that wasn’t a choice he could make on his own.

The kettle suddenly began whistling, jolting Shoyo out of his thoughts and forcing him to hurry and remove it from the stove. The damage was done—his ears were ringing from the noise, which meant he’d be getting a very grumpy companion, any moment now.

“Sho, what the hell?”

He flinched and turned to offer a grimace to Kageyama, who stood shirtless, rumpled, and adorably bleary-eyed at the entrance to the kitchen. “Sorry, I just…was distracted.”

“By what?” Kageyama was still grumpy, but when Shoyo turned towards the counter to begin making some tea, he was immediately surrounded by warm arms, with a sharp chin nestling into his shoulder.

“Um…” To his horror, Shoyo’s voice caught in his throat and his eyes burned with tears. Having Kageyama with him, a tangible reminder of what was at stake, made the threat of…of everything finally sink in.

“Sho?”

“I’m okay, just…” With their tea ready to steep, he turned in Kageyama’s arms and held him around the waist, burrowing his face into his chest. “We…we need to talk.”

“About what?”

Shoyo’s throat ached more from the wary tone of Kageyama’s words. “Something…something happened.”

***

They arrived at practice early, and their coach took all of one look at them before sighing with a small, sad, understanding smile. “So…you guys know.”

“Yeah,” Shoyo murmured, squeezing at Kageyama’s trembling fingers. “We know.”

“Well, then…you two aren’t opposed to staying after practice to meet with the PR manager, are you?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Then go ahead and warm up.”

Practice was awkward. Not because of their playing—they were both determined to not let this mess affect anything on the court—but because of the worry emanating from all of their teammates, even Ushijima. Every time Shoyo was off of the court, whoever was with him murmured a check in of some sort.

“Are you guys okay?”

“What’s going on?”

“We’re here for you, man.”

It was sweet. A relief, really.

It also made Shoyo want to crawl out of his skin.

For the first time in his life, he was relieved when practice ended, because it meant that he could escape the stifling concern of the team and finally do something. Kageyama, on the other hand…

“Hey.” Shoyo grabbed his hand, a small part of him thrilled at being able to do so without looking around. “Breathe.”

Kageyama obeyed, and thankfully looked a little less green. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, stupid,” Shoyo laughed softly. “I’m scared, too.”

“Yeah, but…you’re supposed to be the anxious one.”

“Hey!” A small smile nudged at Kageyama’s lips and made some relief wash over Shoyo, even as he frowned up at him. “Doesn’t feel so nice, does it?”

“I’ve literally never said it does, the hell?”

“Yeah, but you used to get all annoyed about it!”

“In first year! That was almost ten years ago, are you kidding me?”

Shoyo stuck his tongue out, only to squawk when Kageyama pinched his nose. “Ow, Yama!”

“That’s what you get, dumb—”

“Um.” They froze mid-scuffle, and looked towards the locker room entrance to see their coach staring at them with a bemused grin. “Sorry to interrupt, but…shall we get this meeting started?”

Their hands fell away from each other as they both offered sheepish bows. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

The crux of the issue, they were told, was the opening ceremonies looming in the very near future. It would be one thing if the threat of their relationship being revealed could be mostly contained within Japan. But with the Olympics happening in a matter of days, any big news about any member of any Olympic team would inevitably be reported on an international level.

“I don’t tell you this to try to encourage you one way or another in how you want to deal with this,” the team’s PR manager assured them. “But it is something important to keep in mind. Do you understand?”

Both men nodded.

“Good. Well then…now that you have some options…how would you like to move forward with this?”

Shoyo chewed at his lips, eyes flickering from the PR manager, to their coach, to Kageyama at his side. Their gazes met, and Kageyama silently reached towards Shoyo’s lap and took one of his hands with a squeeze. That decided it.

“Don’t…confirm or deny anything. Not yet. We…we have an idea.”

“An idea?” Eyebrows raised. “Can we…know this idea?”

They could. So the couple told them.

Their coach let out a low whistle. “That…is a hell of a risk.”

“Yes,” Kageyama answered simply. “We know, sir.”

“You two are certain about this?”

“We’re certain about each other.” Kageyama’s fingers tightened around Shoyo’s. “So yes. We’re certain about this.”

Shoyo still couldn’t believe how much love could fit in his heart for the man at his side. He dragged his eyes away from him to look at their coach, whose brows were creased in fond exasperation, and the team PR manager, who looked five seconds away from happy tears.

“Alright,” their PR manager sighed. “Well…I guess I’ll see you all at the Olympics, then.”

“Enjoy these last few days of peace, you two,” their coach said with a soft chuckle. “I get the feeling you won’t be having any peace for a while after the games.”

Uneasiness churned in Shoyo’s stomach. “Thank you, sir…you, too.”

“Oh, one last thing.” The couple paused in getting to their feet. “Tell the rest of the team before you see this plan through, alright? This won’t just be affecting you two.”

It was obvious, even something that they had discussed before. But hearing it from an outside party made the reality of it crash into Shoyo, and his quickening breaths reduced him to silence as he stared at their coach and PR manager.

“Yes, sir,” he distantly heard Kageyama answer. “We’ve already started. Have a good weekend.”

Shoyo let himself be tugged out of the gym and onto the sidewalk, where Kageyama grabbed his shoulders to spin him towards him. “Hey. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Shoyo tried to say, wincing when his words came out breathlessly. “I just…it’s a big change. And…the others…we…”

Complete sentences were beyond him, but the solemnity of Kageyama's handsome features told him he understood. “We don’t have to do this,” he murmured, sliding his hands down from Shoyo’s shoulders to squeeze his arms. “We can…we can deny everything, say something about how our competition just…riles us up, and that’s why we have more hookups after our games together. They’ve been reporting on our competitiveness with each other for years, it wouldn’t be that unbelievable.”

He was right. Shoyo knew he was right. But hiding their relationship was one thing. The thought of actively denying it made bile rise in his throat. He couldn’t do that, wouldn’t do that, and the tension around Kageyama’s eyes told him that his partner also hated the idea. “No,” he said firmly. “It’s like you said: we’re certain about each other. The attention will suck for a little bit, but you’re worth it, Tobi. I’m not going to lie about how much I love you.”

From his first “no,” the tension around Kageyama’s eyes melted into a bittersweet mix of nerves, relief, and certainty. “I’m going to kiss the hell out of you when we get home.”

“Just kiss?”

Shoyo’s sweet smile broke into a surprised yelp when Kageyama pinched his nose. “Don’t be greedy. C’mon, let’s go home.”

***

The Olympics Opening Ceremony and the days leading up to it were everything Shoyo could have dreamed and more. They were a whirlwind of settling into their dorms in the Olympic village, some practices on the Olympic courts, milling around and meeting fellow Olympians from around the world and every sport, all culminating in the Parade of Nations.

“Tobio,” he whispered when Japan wrapped up the parade and took their places on the stadium floor.

“Yeah?”

“We did it. We’re on the world stage.” He looked up at his partner in volleyball, in love, in life, and smiled through his tears. It didn’t matter that Kageyama had already done this once before—this was the first time they were here together, and Shoyo felt like he could float away on the bubble of sheer joy at finally fulfilling the vow he’d made as a small, scrappy, stubborn 16-year-old.

He could see the same realization and joy in Kageyama’s shining eyes, before he was being pulled into a tight embrace. It was safe, something that could look like a happy, platonic hug between teammates, but Shoyo knew better. He shuddered when he felt lips brush his ear and whisper, “I’m so fucking proud of you. You have no idea how much better this feels with you here.”

“Show-off,” Shoyo laughed, burying his face into Kageyama’s shoulder. “...Me, too. I’m proud of us.”

Everything in him screamed to forget the plan and kiss Kageyama right there. It was a miracle that he managed to contain himself until the door to their shared dorm room closed behind them, mere seconds before he pressed Kageyama to it and finally, finally pressed their lips together. “Hey, Yama,” he whispered between smacking kisses.

“Don’t. I already know what you’re going to say.”

“Wanna see if these beds are really sex-proof?”

“What did I just say?” Kageyama pushed him away, letting Shoyo get a good look at his exasperated frown and soft eyes. “Our first match is tomorrow, we can’t be sore from fucking.”

“Geez, I thought we could be more romantic,” Shoyo sniffed. “You won’t be sore from love-making.”

“Who said I’ll be the sore one?”

Anticipation zipped up Shoyo’s spine and had him hastily dropping his clothes to the floor as though they weren’t a once-in-a-lifetime Olympics blazer and pants. “Hurry up, then! We gotta get a good night’s sleep!”

“Don’t pretend to be responsible now.” The nag was the last thing Kageyama said before he pushed Shoyo to one of the cardboard beds and crawled between his legs.

Neither of them said much more after that. They were too busy unraveling each other to gasps and moans muffled against sweaty skin.

(Later, when Kageyama’s softening cock slipped out of Shoyo and freed him to slide off of the setter’s hips, the small bedspace still kept him half on top of him, one leg hooked across his cum-splattered abs.

“So? Are you sore?”

“Nope! Wanna change that?”

“Quit fucking around or I won’t toss to you tomorrow.”

“Yama! What kind of partner are you?!”

“A responsible one. Get off me, we need to clean up.”)

***

They lost to Argentina in their first game, a blow that stung less only when Shoyo stumbled across Oikawa sobbing in Iwaizumi’s arms by Team Japan’s locker rooms.

“You did it,” he could just barely hear Iwaizumi murmur.

“I did it,” Oikawa echoed with a tearful laugh. “I beat them, Iwa. I beat all of you.”

“Yeah…I’m proud of you, Shitty-kawa.”

“Oh, come on! I beat your team at the Olympics and you still can’t be nice?!”

“I said I’m proud of you. Take it or leave it.”

It would have sounded like their standard bickering if Shoyo didn’t know both of them well enough to recognize the tender adoration in their voices. When he returned to the locker room, Kageyama pinned him under a suspicious frown. “Why’re you smiling? We lost.”

“I know. So we’ll just have to beat France!”

A quiet laugh rippled through the team, chipping away at the heavy weight of disappointment hanging over them. “Sure, we’ll just go ahead and do that,” Hoshiumi snorted.

“We can!” Shoyo insisted. “Come on, guys, it’s not over yet! We’ve got more volleyball to play! As long as we don’t fall out of the running completely, we’ll keep playing! Isn’t that what matters most?”

“That’s the spirit, Hinata!” Bokuto cheered, slinging a heavy arm over Shoyo’s shoulders. “I’d expect nothing less from my greatest pupil!”

“Bokkun, it’s been almost ten years,” Atsumu groaned with a badly-hidden smirk. “Can you drop the whole ‘teacher-pupil’ thing?”

“Never! The bond between mentor and mentee is unbreakable! Right, Hinata?”

“Right, Bokuto-san!”

“Tobio-kun, are ya gonna let this stand? Bokkun’s takin’ more credit for Shoyo’s growth than you!”

Kageyama blinked, expression bland. “I’m not his teacher. I’m his partner.”

“Jesus, forget I said anythin’.”

“Already done.”

“Omi!”

Just like that, the sullen atmosphere shifted into something a little sweeter, more hopeful, and by the time their match against France rolled around, they were newly determined to settle for nothing less than a total victory. “Are you ready?” Kageyama murmured before they made their entrance to the court. The intensity in his eyes told Shoyo he wasn’t just talking about the match.

Shoyo gently rocked into his side with a smile and a chipper, “Of course! With you, I’m invincible!”

“Invincible,” Kageyama repeated with a smile so slight, Shoyo would have missed it if they didn’t know each other so completely.

***

The ball seemed to move in crystal-clear slow motion, sailing over the net to bounce off of Yaku’s arms in a perfect arc to Kageyama. Around him, Shoyo could see Bokuto, Ojiro, and Hoshiumi run for a synchronized attack, and his legs moved to let him perfectly blend in with his teammates.

He watched the ball meet Kageyama’s fingers just as he poured all the power he had left in him to jump as high as possible. There, at the peak of his jump, the ball appeared before him, and in that perfect split-second of suspension in the air, he found his target on the other side of the net.

His hand hit the ball with a delicious sting, and as he fell to the ground, the ball sped towards France’s libero, only to deflect from his arms and fly out-of-bounds. The wing spikers couldn’t move fast enough—the ball landed, with a thrilling slap against the court floors, just outside of the boundary lines.

Silence reigned over the stadium for a breath, only cracking open with two shrill whistles that sounded like the sweetest sirensong to Shoyo’s ears.

They did it. They won.

Noise exploded through the stadium. Shoyo’s ears rang from the screams and cheers of his teammates, but he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. All that mattered were the blue eyes finding his, and the breathtaking smile spreading below them.

His legs felt like they might give out from under him, but he pushed himself forward, barely aware of the tears falling to his cheeks. He was too focused on taking hold of Kageyama’s cheeks and pulling him down.

Later on, he would remember it all in parts: the sweet taste of Kageyama’s lips parting against his, the familiar comfort of his arms wrapping around his waist, the pressure of his hands pressing against Shoyo’s spine to bring him impossibly closer. Then there were the renewed screams of their teammates, this time in celebration of their announcement.

Because it was an announcement. With that single kiss on the world stage, they were finally breaking open the secrecy of their relationship and proudly baring their hearts to the entire world. Maybe it should’ve been terrifying, but in that moment, Shoyo only felt peace and love and joy, pure, unadulterated joy, overflowing in tears that flowed faster when his ears caught a soft whisper beneath the screams surrounding him.

“I love you.”

***

For the second night in a row, Shoyo and Kageyama entered their dorm room mid-makeout, only closing the door behind them so Shoyo could press Kageyama against it. “Yama,” he breathed, sucking kisses down his neck and soaking in the sounds of his shameless moans. “Tobio, what do you want? Tell me what to do for you.”

“What do you want?”

“Anything you want.”

“Dumbass, that’s not— ah, that’s not an answer— mmh!”

“I asked first.”

Before Kageyama could snap anything back, Shoyo slid his thigh between his legs, pulling the setter’s hips down until he was moaning from the pressure against the tent in his pants. “Fuck, Sho—!”

“Answer me, Tobio.”

Kageyama’s eyes fluttered open, and whatever he saw on Shoyo’s face made him bite his lip with a whimper. “Fuck me,” he gasped when Shoyo pressed his leg up.

“Yeah?” Shoyo murmured, leaning in to ghost their lips together. “Want me to fill you up? Want me to fuck you until you’re begging?”

Challenge glinted in those hazy blue eyes. “Make me,” Kageyama grunted. “Make me beg, Sho.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

With a growl, Kageyama took his lips in a hungry kiss, rutting against Shoyo’s thigh despite what he’d just asked for. Shoyo could’ve sworn he could feel the heat building between Kageyama’s legs in time with the increasing hardness trapped in his jeans. “Tobio…shit, Tobio…”

Kageyama just hummed into the kisses, whimpering when Shoyo’s hands wandered under his shirt, sliding higher and higher until he could pinch at his nipples. “Let me see,” Shoyo whispered, “c’mon, Tobi, lemme see you.”

Despite his grunt of protest, Kageyama obeyed, nearly tearing fabric in his haste to rip his shirt off and bare his beautiful chest to Shoyo. He wasted no time diving in, sucking a nipple into his mouth to the sweet tune of Kageyama’s keening whines. They had showered before the celebratory team dinner, but the summer heat made sweat sting on Shoyo’s tastebuds, sharpening the delicious taste of Kageyama, Kageyama, nothing but Kageyama.

He wanted to eat him whole, wanted to drag his lips and tongue and teeth across every lightly-tanned inch of his perfect body. But for now, he was satisfied with gripping at Kageyama’s trim waist and stopping him from curving his plush chest away from his lips. He didn’t pull away until he heard his moans pick up in pitch and eventually break into a desperate, “Sho, Sho, m’close, fuck— wait, no—”

Shoyo ignored his pleas, sliding his thigh away and pinning Kageyama’s hips to the door. “Not yet, baby,” he whispered, pressing a sweet kiss to his gasping lips. “Wait for me, hm?”

He didn’t let go of Kageyama’s hips until they stopped twitching forward in search of more friction. Only then did Kageyama wilt in his hands, letting his forehead rest against Shoyo’s as he nodded. “Okay?” Shoyo asked.

“I won’t be if you don’t hurry up.”

Shoyo snickered, unabashed under Kageyama’s pout. “That’s a yes. C’mon, get naked and show me how you want me to fuck you.”

He could feel a shudder run through Kageyama’s body before he was being pushed away. He obeyed the gentle nudge, letting his hands fall away from Kageyama and watching shamelessly as he shoved his pants and socks off and climbed onto his bed. Arousal made his breath stop when Kageyama held himself up on his hands and knees and looked over his shoulder with an impatient frown. “Why’re you still not naked?”

“God, you’re hot,” Shoyo huffed, stripping himself and grabbing a condom and some lube. “Why’re you so hot when you’re bossy?”

“I’m not bossy,” Kageyama grunted, failing to look away before Shoyo caught a glimpse of his flushed cheeks. “And I dunno why you think weird things are hot.”

“Calling yourself weird, Yama?”

“No. I’m calling you weird.”

Shoyo snickered as he joined Kageyama on the bed, letting his cock nudge against the perfect swell of his ass. “Yeah, and you’re into me,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to his spine and relishing the soft whimper he earned. “So what’s that make you?”

“An idiot. Hurry up.”

“Aw, does it hurt?” Shoyo cooed in false sympathy. He slicked up one hand, but instead of tracing circles around Kageyama’s puckered hole, he reached around and took hold of his straining cock.

“Fuck!” Kageyama cried, head lolling between his shaking arms. “Sho, please—”

“Begging already? That’s not good.”

“Shut up, I’m— hah, I’m gonna— no, come on—!”

“Not yet,” Shoyo insisted, letting go just as he felt Kageyama’s cock harden that last tell-tale bit. “Shhh, Tobi, the others will hear you whining for me.”

“Fuck you,” Kageyama bit out.

“Nah, not tonight.” Shoyo snickered as he dodged the half-hearted swat Kageyama barely managed before he had to support himself on both hands again. “Okay, okay, here.” He slid his slippery hand between Kageyama’s legs, letting his slick touch trail along the curve of his tight balls and through the hot, tight space up to his puckered rim. Kageyama tensed beneath him as soon as he began drawing cold circles over his hole, and Shoyo brushed a kiss under his ear before slowly pressing in. “Relax, Tobi,” he whispered, grinning when he felt him obey. “Good boy.”

Kageyama just whimpered wordlessly, trembling when Shoyo’s finger slid home. “Is this good?” Shoyo asked quietly.

“Mm…yeah,” Kageyama groaned, slowly rocking his hips into the slight intrusion. “Yeah,” he repeated with a pleased sigh, “yeah, gimme more.”

“Yessir.” With that purr, Shoyo carefully slid out his finger to the last digit, before sliding it back in with a second finger. He pressed kisses along Kageyama’s shoulders and the back of his neck as he carefully stretched him out, following the sound of his gasps and moans. Yes, he knew exactly how Kageyama liked to be stretched out, but that didn’t mean he stopped relishing the way his name sounded when he finally curved three fingers into his prostate. “Sho—!”

“Good?”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck, it’s good!”

“Good.” He was more urgent than usual as he worked his fingers in and out and spread them wide, his own arousal burning through him at the sight of Kageyama trying to fuck himself on his fingers. “Shit, Tobio, I thought you wanted to come on my cock, not my fingers.”

“I do, hurry up!”

“Ask me nicely,” Shoyo huffed, as though he weren’t already slipping his fingers out and sliding the condom down his aching dick.

“Fuck me, Sho, c’mon, fill me up.”

Oh…that wasn’t quite what Shoyo had in mind, but damn, if he didn’t care.

He slid home to the sweet harmony of them moaning together. He tried, truly tried to hold still and let Kageyama adjust, but he couldn’t stop his hips from twitching forward, trying to reach even deeper. “Sho—”

“I know, sorry, I can’t— fuck, you’re tight,” Shoyo groaned. His fingers pressed at Kageyama’s hips, tight enough that he knew they would leave bruises. But Kageyama didn’t complain, too focused on relaxing around Shoyo’s hard length reaching deep inside him.

“Move.”

Shoyo was pulling out before the word finished leaving Kageyama’s lips, thrusting back in and setting a desperate pace. This wasn’t what he’d planned, didn’t match the image he’d had of a slow, drawn-out fuck, leaving Kageyama panting and begging under him. But Shoyo couldn’t help himself. After everything they’d been through that day—a loss, a win, revealing their relationship to the world and navigating the resulting rush of last-minute interviews, and celebrating both their win and their reveal with the team at dinner—all Shoyo wanted was to lose himself in the sublime, tight heat of the love of his life.

“Ah! Right there, fuck—!”

“Yeah, I’ve got you,” Shoyo panted, keeping up the perfect angle as he kept plowing forward. “You feel so good, Tobio, you’re always so good for me.”

“For you,” Kageyama breathlessly echoed, his words melting into soft, whining moans that left his lips with every thrust.

“Good boy.” Kageyama’s next whine was almost a wail, and he fell to his elbows, sweaty bangs brushing the plain covers and cock drooling beneath him. “That’s right,” Shoyo hissed, pressing his hips to Kageyama’s and grinding in as deep as he could, “you’re my good boy, aren’t you?”

It was still incredible to Shoyo, the way the pet name so thoroughly unwound Kageyama. He went wordless, reduced to whines and clumsy attempts to fuck himself on Shoyo’s dick. “Shhhh, easy does it.”

“No,” Kageyama mumbled into the sheets, “more, need more, m’close.”

“What do you need, Tobi?” Shoyo already knew what he needed, but it was always heady to hear Kageyama stumble over his words when he was usually so taciturn.

“Touch me, fuck me, c’mon—!” This time, he really did wail when Shoyo took hold of his cock. He couldn’t seem to decide between fucking back on him or thrusting into his hand, leaving him shuddering with twitching hips. “Yes, yes, yes—”

“Are you close? Gonna come for me?”

“Please, Sho, please—”

“I’ve got you. C’mon baby, come for me, you’re so close.”

“Close, close— nngh, Sho!” Kageyama pressed his face to the bed to muffle his shout when he finally broke, spilling onto the bed sheets and rocking against Shoyo. He tightened impossibly more around him, trapping Shoyo and leaving him only able to grind in until he followed him over the edge with a drawn-out groan.

Neither of them could say anything, their lips only parting around gasps for air and a last few shuddering moans from the aftershocks. Shoyo could only form words when Kageyama nearly collapsed into his own mess on the bed. “Woah, careful—” He just barely caught him by the hips and tipped him to the side, earning a soft grunt of thanks. “You okay, Tobio?”

“Mm…yeah, just…god, Sho.”

Shoyo could only laugh bashfully, tilting forward to kiss Kageyama’s hip before slowly standing on his own shaking legs. “I’ll clean us up, and then we can move to my bed, okay?” Kageyama just nodded into the sheets, but that was good enough for Shoyo.

They moved predictably slowly as Shoyo cleaned them both up, then urged Kageyama to help him strip the dirty covers from his bed and climb into Shoyo’s bed. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, dumbass, I’m fine.”

“Are you gonna be sore tomorrow?”

Kageyama frowned as he gave a tentative stretch of his hip. “...I don’t think so. Nothing that’ll impede my playing.”

“Okay.” Shoyo finally let himself fully collapse into bed, fitting himself against Kageyama’s side like a puzzle piece. Kageyama shifted around until his head fit under Shoyo’s chin and he could nestle into Shoyo’s chest, letting him stroke his fingers through dark hair.

They laid there in silence, curled together so closely, Shoyo wasn’t sure where he ended and Kageyama began. He didn’t mind the quiet, never did when he was with Kageyama. But just as his eyes began drifting closed, he heard, “We kissed at the Olympics.”

“Hm?” Shoyo grunted, jolting awake. “Oh, yeah. Yeah! Just like we planned!”

“So the whole world knows about us.”

Apprehension pricked at Shoyo. Kageyama’s voice was flat, matter of fact, with an undertone of nerves that Shoyo couldn’t parse out. “Yeah, but…we planned for that. And that’s what we wanted, right?”

“Right, just…”

Why did he sound so nervous? What was Kageyama thinking about? Shoyo looked down at his smooth black hair and joked, “You’re not breaking up with me, are you?”

Well…he meant it as a joke, but he could hear the tension in his voice, which meant Kageyama would hear it, too.

Sure enough, Kageyama pulled away to frown at him. “No, dumbass! I’m just thinking…”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Fuck off.” The phrase was flippant, with no heat or bite behind it. Shoyo pressed his lips thin to hold back his snort of laughter and waited for Kageyama to go on. “I was thinking,” he continued with a roll of his eyes, before he settled back down against Shoyo, “the world knows. The whole world knows that…that we’re together. That we love each other.”

“Yeah…?”

“And that we’re serious about each other.”

“Right…”

Calloused fingertips began drawing patterns across Shoyo’s chest. Despite the worry swelling in him, he still felt a jolt of fondness at the nervous habit. It had been a while since Kageyama last doodled on him like that. “Like…serious enough to be together for our whole lives?”

“Yeah!” Shoyo scoffed, indignant at the mere thought of the alternative. “You’re stuck with me, Tobi!”

He heard a soft snort, then silence for a beat, before, “Then…should we make it official?”

“I thought we just did that?”

“Dumbass, I meant…legally.”

There was heavy intent behind Kageyama’s words, but Shoyo couldn’t fathom what he was trying to imply. “Legally? What do you mean?”

“I mean marriage,” Kageyama scoffed, before raising himself to look Shoyo in the eye. “Marry me, dumbass.”

Oh. Oh. Oh, Shoyo loved him so much. He had never felt so certain about an answer in his whole life. But first: “Wow. That might be the least romantic proposal I’ve ever heard.”

“Hah?! Who else proposed to you?!”

“No one, stupid!” Shoyo said with a light flick at Kageyama’s forehead. “But I’ve heard other couples’ proposals, and they were way nicer than that!”

The nerves lining Kageyama’s eyes stiffened into annoyance. “So what, you’re not gonna marry me because I didn’t propose right?”

“What? I didn’t even answer!”

“Then answer, dumbass!”

“Yes, dummy! Of course I’ll marry you!”

Somewhere along the way, Shoyo’s voice began shaking with gleeful laughter, and soon Kageyama was laughing with him, and they laid there, laughing and laughing, and Shoyo had the idle thought that if someone could die from too much happiness, he would have perished a thousand times over by now.

Their laughter faded away, leaving Kageyama gazing down at Shoyo with the soft look of adoration that never failed to make love spread warm through him like a hot cup of tea. “You’re my future, Tobio,” he murmured, bringing his hands to Kageyama’s cheeks and stroking over their curves with gentle thumbs. “I’m never gonna stop running forward. I don’t care if I’m chasing you, or you’re chasing me, or we’re running together. I just…I want to do it with you. Forever.”

“Good.” Kageyama pushed himself up properly and fit himself between Shoyo’s legs. “Because I’m going to love you forever, Hinata Shoyo.”

Shoyo knew everything was going to continue changing now that their relationship was public, and that those changes were going to be daunting, no matter if they were good or bad.

But as he gazed up at Kageyama, at this man who had so inextricably woven himself into his heart, he knew, with a rare sense of certainty, that it would be worth it, all of it. He was worth it.

“And I’ll love you in this universe and the next, Kageyama Tobio.”

Because as long as they had each other, they’d be invincible.

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thedevilspearl · 11 months

Text

asking them stupid questions — all brothers

a/n: having a hard time writing smut atm so here’s some silly headcanons with the brothers. i was really tired when i proofread this so there may be some mistakes.

tags: 2k words, no gender specified, reader x lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub + belphegor. (belphie’s is a little suggestive).

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑

lucifer has had enough.

it’s been a long day and he wished for a quiet night in his office to relax with some tea while overlooking the bills his brothers have riled up.

but he’s quite distracted tonight.

peace and quiet is not an option. especially with you loitering, floating around his office and touching all the trinkets and décor. you’ve never shown interest in them before, but tonight, all of a sudden lucifer’s office is the most inviting place in the world.

“mc?”

“yes, honey?”

“is something the matter.”

there is a painstakingly long silence before you answer. “….no.”

letting out a little sigh, he asks, “are you quite sure?”

you hum with a subtle nod, barely looking him in the eye and he is now certain something is wrong.

“mc, please. if you aren’t feeling well, you can tell me about it. you don’t need to make this difficu—”

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

“what?” lucifer’s voice croaks.

“it’s just that i felt sad thinking about how you might not love me anymore if one day i turned into a worm and couldn’t turn back into me.”

“mc, in what world would you ever turn into a worm?”

“most likely this one. remember that time mammon accidentally turned me into a sheep in spells class? i was cute as a sheep, so it was okay. but as a worm, i’d be small and slimy and gross. i’d be unloveable.”

“that is enough,” he rises from his chair, speaking with command but still gentle enough to not upset you further. “you shouldn’t think of such things. it is so silly of you to think i would ever stop loving you.”

“luci….”

“if i must spell it out for you, then yes. i would still love you if you were a worm and i would carry you everywhere with me to ensure you’re never lost or hurt. i would need something small and protective to carry you in, but yes. i will always love you.”

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

“if there was a zombie apocalypse and i was bitten, what would you do?”

“hah?!” mammon’s face contorts at your random question. “what are ya talking about?”

“i’ve been thinking about that movie we watched….the zombie one. and just wondered what it would be like.”

“gave up on surviving already, did ya?” he chuckles, collapsing onto his bed beside you, his hand resting on your waist.

“no, but i wanna know! what would you do if i turned into a zombie?”

“well….what are the options?” his smirk earns him a playful smack on the chest. “hey! i’m serious. i’ll be so sad that i won’t be able to think straight, so ya need to give me some options.”

“fine,” you pout, scratching your brain for solutions. “i suppose the most humane thing to do would be to kill me. you know, to make sure i’m not forced to live as a mindless zombie eating other humans.”

“okay….”

“or you could tie me up, maybe chain me, and keep me alive by feeding me living people.”

“why would i keep ya around if you’re gonna stink like a rotting corpse?”

while mammon laughs, your brows furrow with annoyance, mostly feigned but there’s a small sense of hurt in there when you think about mammon not wanting to keep you after you turn into a zombie, despite it being completely logical and reasonable.

“hey,” his voice is soft as he leans over and kisses your cheek, “don’t worry. i’d handcuff us together and let you bite me. then we can be zombies together and never be separated.”

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍

movie night always means one thing, and that’s you and levi curling up with tangled limbs and a hoard of cushions and blankets. a joint blanket burrito with little space between you but that’s a good thing.

the closeness makes it cosier.

tonight, you opted for a more emotional movie. a romance, but romances are always emotional for both of you. that’s why you try your best to stay away from the romantic movies and stick to action packed fantasies or sci-fi’s that are the furthest thing from romance.

but there was a new and popular movie making the headlines and levi couldn’t wait to watch it. you knew watching it was a lost hope, and now you’re sobbing in levi’s arms watching the struggles the love interests are going through to get to each other.

“i’m so glad it wasn’t that difficult for us to be together,” you sniffle, feeling a wave of gratitude take over. “i love you, levi.”

“i love you, too,” his voice trembles and he quietly wipes his own tears.

“hey, levi?”

“what is it?”

“can i wipe my nose on you?”

“what? no!”

too late. you buried your head into his chest, wiping your face clean and covering his favourite shirt in snot.

“gross!”

“i’m sorry. i wanted to get a tissue but they’re too far away. i didn’t want to leave the burrito.”

“it’s fine,” he grumbles, begrudgingly patting you on the head to tell you it’s okay despite ruining his shirt. “let’s finish the movie.”

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍

“would you still love me if i told you the truth?”

satan tries to hide his piqued interest, like he usually does. he likes to come off as the too–cool–to–show–i–care kind of guy but the truth is, he is more invested in this truth than anything else.

he nonchalantly turns the page of his book and with a swipe of his tongue over his lips, he asks, “what truth?”

“that i’m really a lizard.”

well, he wasn’t expecting that.

he watches you intently over the pages of his book. you stop pacing around the library and make your way to him, showing no expression on your face. usually, he would be quite good at reading your face but in all honesty, he can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”

“a lizard?”

you nod. “a lizard.”

“you don’t look like a lizard.”

“that’s because i’m a lizard pretending to be a human.”

“a what now?” he shuts his book, sitting upright from his laid position. he tried his hardest not to give in to your silly but mysterious notion but he is far more interested in your explanation.

“you know about the lizard people, right?”

“i do not.”

“so i just exposed myself for nothing?”

“what in the devildom are you talking about?”

“it doesn’t matter. forget i said anything. if anyone finds out i told you, i could get killed.”

“please tell me that isn’t true.”

silence.

you refuse to even look him in the eye. surely, you are joking. there’s no way you’re really a lizard, let alone it be possible for lizards to be secretly living inside of humans. what kind of conspiracy would that be?

it’s unimaginable, even for demons. but whether the lizard thing is true or he’s falling for a joke, you still need an answer to your question.

“yes,” he pulls you into his side. “i would still love you if you were really a lizard.”

𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒

“asmo,” you sing the demon of lust’s name, catching the attention that he would devote to you at any given moment. “can i ask you something?”

“go ahead, my dearest. fire away.”

he winks, hoping it would be something on the more flirtatious side, but instead you fill his mind with a grotesque image.

“what would you do if you could never touch me again?”

he immediately smothers you with a hug. “what are you talking about?! of course, that would never happen!”

“but what if?” you snuggle into him further. “what if you could never touch me?”

he hums, thinking of any solution to be able to touch you again.

“i’d cry,” he says simply. “i’d cry a lot.”

“aww,” you pout. “i don’t want you to cry.”

“and i don’t want to imagine a world where i can’t hold you like this,” he kisses your lips, “where i can’t kiss you like this,” he lifts up your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, “where i can’t hold your hand like this.”

“asmo….”

“i don’t know what would ever cause me to never be able to touch you again, but it would be the end of my world if it came true. i don’t know if i’d be able to live.”

“you’d still be able to see me and speak to me.”

“but not being able to touch you when i see you and hear you is the most painful torture imaginable. but you know what that means, right?”

“what does it mean?” you squeal and his hands tickle your sides.

“it means i need to do all the touching i can now to make up for it!”

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁

“hey, beel?”

“yeah?”

your quiet voices fill the dark path home from rad. beel always walks you home; be it in comfortable silence or deep conversations, you don’t imagine walking home any other way.

and the quiet air of the evening provides the perfect chance to ask him a question you’ve been waiting to ask all day.

“can i ask you something?”

“sure.”

“if i had five million cheeseburgers and you could only eat them if you slapped me in the face, what wou—”

“i’d slap you in the face.”

“i didn’t even finish my question.” you yelp, brows furrowing in frustration.

“you don’t need to finish it. i’d do anything to eat that many cheeseburgers.”

your feet plant in the ground and beel doesn’t stop walking until your hand which holds his pulls him back.

“are you serious?”

“uhmm….i think so?”

you’re grateful for the fact that he’s rethinking his answer but it was a shock to hear him say he’d slap you so firmly in the beginning. it was a stupid question to ask in the first place, but you never imagined beel ever wanting to hurt you.

he tugs on your hand and you continue walking with him, picking up the pace to get home.

“mc….” he asks. “did i say something wrong?”

his obliviousness to his own words is a harder slap in the face than the slap he promised those five million burgers.

“you said you’d slap me, beel, and it makes me sad.”

“hm….we can go halfsies on the burgers?”

“huh?”

“i’ll slap you and then we can share the burgers.” he promises. “you’d feel bad because i slapped you. and i’d feel bad because i slapped you. so to make it better for both of us, we can split the cheeseburgers.”

you look at him, astounded because you don’t know if his explanation makes his answer better or worse.

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑

a cuddling session in the attic with belphegor is exactly what you needed after a long, draining day. you naturally made your way up to him as soon as you had some free time, desperate for his warmth.

but belphie had a different warmth in mind with all the kisses he litters up and down your neck.

“belphie, i’m tired.” you whine, but still urge him on to kiss you harder.

“then close your eyes. i’ll kiss you until you fall asleep.”

your heart swarms with the thrill of his words, the promise of being here and showering you with affection even on your worst days.

“is something wrong?” he asks.

“no. why?”

“you’re not falling asleep.”

“that’s because you’re kisses are keeping me awake.”

“they’re meant to help you fall asleep.”

“i hate to break it to you belphie, but they’re having the opposite effect.” you tease.

“is that so?” he nibbles you ear. “what about this?”

you arch into his body, sensitive from his kisses and now the more urgent movements of his lips ignite a fire in your belly. his lips graze you, teeth nip you and tongue swipe over your skin. he sucks hard enough to leave bruises, and kisses softly on every mark he leaves.

“belphie….” the soft whisper of his name catches his attention. “how many ghosts do you think are watching us right now?”

he ceases for a moment, then lifts his head from the crook of your neck. “what?”

“what if there’s ghosts watching us right now? and what if they keep watching us while we….you know….?”

“i never thought of that before.”

“it’s weird, right?”

“definitely. let’s never have sex again.”

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