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All good things must come to an end, and this is (unfortunately) true for Hinata’s stay in Japan with Kageyama.
The months pass in the blink of an eye, and before Kageyama knows it he’s at the airport, arms thrown around Hinata’s waist as he wishes him goodbye. Both their eyes are teary, and even though it's barely seven in the morning Kageyama is more awake than ever.
When the final announcement for boarding sounds through the intercom, Hinata drags himself away from Kageyama’s body, messily wiping the tears from his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Well,” he starts, throat clogged, “I guess this is it, huh? I’m going back.”
“Yeah,” Kageyama agrees, running a hand through his hair and pulling slightly on the strands to ground himself. “Which would mean this is goodbye.”
“It would.” A pause, then, “You’ll visit, though, won’t you?”
“Of course I will, Sho. As much as I can.”
Hinata grips the handle of his carry-on suitcase so hard his knuckles go white. He’s wearing Kageyama’s hoodie because he insisted on taking a piece of Kageyama to Rio with him, and it hangs off his body, making him look that much smaller. It reminds when Hinata would sleep over and steal his clothes in high school. His heart gives a fresh pang of bittersweetness at the memory, pumping hot blood through his veins.
“So will I,” says Hinata, determination burning in his gaze. “I’ll save money, and work extra, and. . . I’ll come back home. To you. I promise.”
“Of course you will,” says Kageyama, properly crying now. He’s sure his face is red and his nose is snotty, but Hinata doesn't seem to care as he pulls him in for a kiss. It’s short, and sweet, and everything Kageyama loves about him.
“I love you,” Hinata whispers into the skin of Kageyama’s neck. “And I’ll miss you, so much.”
“I’ll miss you more,” argues Kageyama, to which Hinata laughs. Hinata reaches up to thumb away a tear Kageyama hadn’t realized slipped past his eye.
They spend a few seconds like that, bodies together, memorizing the shape of the person they thought they’d never be able to live without. And then Hinata pulls away, nodding to himself. “Bye Tobio.”
“Bye, Sho.”
Watching him walk away is the hardest thing Kageyama’s ever had to do in his life.
The second Kageyama gets home that day, he starts saving. He makes a new account, labels it ‘Rio’, and transfers as much money into it as he can excuse.
I will go to him, Kageyama promises himself, before he comes to me.
Naturally, it gets easier as time passes. There are moments when Kageyama misses Hinata so much he thinks he can’t breathe, but they go from coming every day to once a week, to once a month, to barely being there at all.
By the time four months passes, they’ve fallen back into how they used to be, before Hinata came to Japan. They start texting again, send each other more pictures than ever before. Have phone sex. Call at least once a week, trade voice messages more often than that. Really, the only difference now is that they know they love each other, and aren’t afraid to say it. Constantly.
If Kageyama thought Hinata’s dirty talk was good before they started dating, then it’s nothing short of stupefying now. The difference a ‘love you s’much, Tobio’ makes is something Kageyama never expected, but certainly relishes in.
If he didn’t know what it was like to live with Hinata and have him within arm’s reach at all moments, then Kageyama wouldn’t hesitate to call this new way of life perfection. But he does know, so while it is amazing, a part of him knows it could be better.
It’s okay, though; he’s saved half of the money he needs to go to Rio and surprise Hinata. And with the part-time job he starts next week, he should have the rest of it in no time.
No time. Kageyama always associated those words with running out of time, not having enough of it; with the loss of Hinata. He never thought he’d want to have no time, but it seems there’s a first time for everything.
How fitting for Hinata to be the reason behind it.
“Do you think people from high school would be surprised to know we’re dating?”
Kageyama looks up from making his dinner with a frown, brows furrowed. “What makes you say that?”
Hinata shrugs, pulling his leg up so it’s in frame of the camera and resting his chin on it. “Dunno. I ran into Oikawa the other day and when I mentioned you, he started laughing? Like. . . almost like he couldn’t believe it.”
Kageyama scoffs as he turns to reach for the soy sauce. “That’s ‘cause Oikawa used to bully me for my crush on you. He was probably just surprised I ended up doing something about it.”
Hinata makes a low hum of acknowledgement. “He’s dating someone, y’know,” he says after a period of comfortable silence, drawing shapes into the skin of his knee with his nails.
Kageyama’s food is done, so he moves his laptop to the dining table first before bringing his bowl and chopsticks over. He sits down, takes a bite, chews and swallows it fully before saying, “Iwaizumi,” with a nod of his head. There’s no question about it; the two were practically made for each other. Kind of like him and Hinata, if Kageyama thinks about it.
Hinata smiles, just a little, like he knows he’s about to surprise Kageyama. “No, actually. It’s some Argentinian guy.”
Kageyama pauses with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. “You’re joking.”
Hinata’s smile widens. “I’m not. He said they’ve been dating for a month, and he showed me a picture of him. He’s cute, but. . .”
“What?”
“He kinda looks like Iwaizumi. No, not kinda. He really looks like Iwaizumi.”
Kageyama breaks into a genuine laugh at that. His shoulders shake, eyes closing. “Jesus,” he says disbelievingly.
“Yeah,” agrees Hinata, his eyes trained on Kageyama’s face. “Lucky we figured our shit out, huh? ‘Cause if we hadn’t. . . that might’ve been us.”
“Don’t be a sap,” Kageyama says with a forced expression of annoyance.
“Oh, so I can’t be grateful for you anymore?”
“Exactly.”
“Maybe I should just break up with you, then. Seeing as you don’t appreciate all this,” Hinata punctuates his sentence with a wave of his hand up and down his body.
He looks like an idiot. Kageyama loves him for it.
They fall into natural conversation after that point. Because Kageyama’s eating, he ends up listening to Hinata ramble more than anything else, but he prefers it this way. It feels oddly reminiscent of their high school lunch times, and Kageyama wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Hinata stays on the line with Kageyama while he cleans up, and they talk some more until Kageyama has to go to bed. He gets ready with Hinata there, ignoring his request to watch Kageyama as he showers. When it’s time to hang up, Hinata does so grudgingly, and only after being promised they’ll talk tomorrow.
There’s a contentedness to Kageyama as he sets his phone to charge and settles under the covers, a wholesomeness he never thought he’d get to experience. He’s just about fallen asleep when his phone buzzes on his nightstand. Kageyama picks it up only to see it’s a notification from Hinata.
It’s a picture, sent with the caption sleep tight. Kageyama’s brows furrow, confused as to what it may be.
He opens it, and sees. . . oh. That little shit. Hinata knew exactly what he was doing with this.
It’s a mirror selfie, the kind Hinata used to send before they started dating. The kind Kageyama would’ve classified as a thirst trap all that time ago.
Hinata’s only wearing boxers that do nothing to hide how hard he is. One hand’s holding his phone while the other palms his bulge, fingers splayed over what Kageyama knows is a beautiful cock. His tongue is out, licking his teeth in a way that’s probably supposed to be teasing, but to Kageyama is nothing but arousing. When he zooms in (because of course he zooms in) he spots a spit string.
Kageyama doesn’t even pretend to be surprised when he finds himself growing warm in his pajamas. He should hate how easily Hinata does this to him, but he can’t, so he settles for honing in on Hinata’s expression instead.
Their relationship has made Hinata more confident in himself, and it shows. His mouth is pulled up into the faintest smirk, cheeks pink with a blush, whole face flushed with a light sheen of sweat. He looks the same as he does when Kageyama’s blowing him, and the fact makes Kageyama dizzy.
Kageyama stares at the picture and ponders the morals of jerking off to it, before realizing that’s exactly why Hinata sent it in the first place. He’s half hard now, and all it takes is a few strokes through his clothes to be fully leaking into his underwear.
He reaches for the lube in his drawer, fumbling as he pulls it out. Kageyama throws his phone off somewhere to the side, the photo of Hinata now burned into his brain, before pushing his pants and underwear down to mid-thigh in one go.
He wraps a hand around his cock, stroking roughly. Kageyama can already tell it’ll be a quick orgasm, but one that brings him pleasure nonetheless. The glide is too dry, not slick enough, so he messily drizzles lube over his hand, sighing in relief at how good it makes things.
It makes it good, but it does not make it great. Kageyama knows exactly what would make it great.
When Hinata left, Kageyama found himself looking for things to distract him from how much he missed his boyfriend. He was on his laptop, searching through random shit, and one thing led to another. Somehow, he found himself watching porn of men who looked like him getting wrecked by men who looked like Hinata, and. . . yeah.
Kageyama grabs the lube again and pours a heaping amount over his hole, deciding that he wants this too much to deprive himself of it. It’s a little warm from being kept in his drawer, and that sensation alone is enough to have him gasping. Experimentally, he reaches down and circles his rim with a finger, pushing the tip in slightly before retreating. It’s barely anything but it’s still somehow amazing, so fucking good.
Kageyama keeps the hand on his cock but slows his strokes, stops his hips from thrusting up to chase the friction. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it. He wants to come on his fingers, and wants to imagine they’re Hinata’s instead.
This isn’t Kageyama’s first time fingering himself. He did it a few times when he was figuring out his sexuality and what he liked, and did it when he felt empty and craved Hinata. But it’s his first time in a while, and all he manages is two fingers before his body threatens to give out on him.
Kageyama wouldn’t be able to stop a moan from escaping his lips if he tried. He feels so full, like he's been stuffed with himself. And this is only two of his own, thin fingers.
Kageyama imagines how Hinata’s cock would feel inside him and whimpers, hips rocking down on his fingers.
Slowly, he begins to scissor them, entire body twitching when he finds his prostate. All the while, Kageyama lets his mind run wild. The fantasies that form are fleeting, the details not yet figured out, but they’re enough to have his dick splurting precome. Hinata’s body draped over his, his cock dragging against Kageyama’s walls. Reassuring hands on his hips as he rides his boyfriend, thighs shaking. Praise littered throughout, whispered into his skin.
The images alone are enough to have Kageyama teetering towards an orgasm. His cock is untouched where it rests against his belly, weeping precome and begging for attention. Touching it now would make him come, and Kageyama doesn’t want that yet, so he continues to leave it neglected.
Again Kageyama presses into his prostate, and again he goes dumb with pleasure. He’s helpless but to imagine how much further Hinata’s cock would reach, how much quicker he’d get Kageyama to melt under him. With how big his cock is, it’d be easy for him. He’d fuck Kageyama like he was born to do it, his thrusts sloppy with desperation, unable to control his babbling. Kageyama would probably feel it in his throat, probably be able to see the outline of Hinata’s cock in his tummy一
A few hasty ruts into his hand is all Kageyama needs to come. The world tilts on its axis as he fucks his fingers through it, so far gone he can't find it in himself to wipe away the drool from his chin.
He comes so quick and so hard that it goes everywhere; over his clothed chest, on his chin, between his thighs. Kageyama moans Hinata’s name through it, whining and begging for him in a way that’ll make him feel shame later.
Kageyama’s not sure how to break to Hinata that he wants to try bottoming. Saying it out loud is so daunting, and while he knows Hinata would never make him feel bad for it, he can’t help but feel it’s some sort of insult to Hinata.
He loves topping, loves feeling Hinata come on his cock, but what if Hinata doesn’t take it that way? What if he thinks Kageyama hates how they have sex now? What if he doesn’t want to top, what if he finds it gross? The possibilities are endless, honestly.
Kageyama’s orgasm was so intense he’s pretty sure it took most of his brain cells with it. That’s the only reasonable explanation for what he does next.
His fingers are still inside him as he wipes his hand on his shirt and grabs his phone. Without thinking, Kageyama angles his phone so you can see his hole and takes a picture. The sound of the shutter should be sobering, but somehow all it does is spur him on. Looking at it, Kageyama sees it’s nothing short of obscene; his hole flutters around his fingers, used, drops of come dripping down it. If he didn’t know better, it would look like he’s just been fucked.
He sends it without thinking, too, not waiting for it to load before casting his phone off to the side.
Hinata’s always done better with actions than words, anyways.
Kageyama wakes to three missed calls and about a dozen texts from Hinata, most of which are incomprehensible gibberish. For a split second, he’s confused as to why he would do that, but then the events of last night crash down on him.
Holy shit.
Part of Kageyama wants to believe it was all some fuzzy, lust-induced dream, but he knows better. This is all (unfortunately? Fortunately? Depends on how you look at it) very, very real.
The most recent thing Hinata sent was a voice message before he went quiet, so Kageyama decides to look at that first. He opens it to see it’s just over a minute in length. Before his nerves can get the best of him, Kageyama plays it and holds it up to his ear.
Immediately, it opens with a slick sound that Kageyama recognizes as Hinata fucking his fist. It’s quick, almost hurried; desperate. It’s so wet Kageyama can hear how the lube slips through the cracks of Hinata’s fingers, dripping down his wrist and onto his lap.
This goes on for about ten seconds, and just when Kageyama thinks it’ll be like this the whole time, Hinata starts talking.
“Tobio, you. . . you asshole,” he chokes out, the words slurred, dipped in honey. “You can’t just一just send me that and disappear. It’s. . . you’re. . . fuck. Oh my god, I can’t even. . . did you send that to turn me on? Rile me up? You did, didn’t you? I一ah. . . ngh, you look gorgeous, baby, beautiful. Kinda like you were made for it. . . for me. Jesus, ah. . . made for taking my cock.”
Kageyama’s ears burn bright red as Hinata continues, jerking himself off the whole time. Despite coming less than twelve hours ago, there’s a tent in his shorts, and the sound of Hinata’s moans is certainly not helping it.
After an unintelligible period filled with nothing but gasps and whines, Hinata continues. “God, I wish you were here, Tobio. Wish I was一was fucking you instead of my fist. . . I know it’d feel so good, I know. Wanna do it s’bad. . . should’ve shown me earlier, I would’ve一shit, sorry一would’ve made you ride me ages ago, your pretty thighs. . .” The wet sounds of Hinata touching himself speed up, a sign he’s close. He comes with Tobio’s name on his tongue, and the fact that Kageyama knows exactly what face he’s making causes his cock to kick in his boxers, reminding him that he is, in fact, extremely turned on by this.
There’s heavy breathing on Hinata’s end, and all he says is: “Call me when you get this, please,” before the voice message ends, and Kageyama’s plunged back into silence.
Kageyama had been planning to call Hinata immediately afterwards anyway, so the spoken permission only encourages him further. He dials Hinata, putting it on speaker and leaning back in his bed.
It should come as no surprise when Hinata picks up on the first ring; almost like he’d been waiting for the call.
“I’m assuming you saw my message?” Is what Hinata opens with, not a hint of shame in his voice. He’s never been the type to be bashful, especially not with Kageyama.
The blunt way he phrases it makes Kageyama snort. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“Don't be rude. Don’t you wanna hear what I have to say?”
Kageyama pretends to mull it over before saying, “Hmm, no. Bye一”
“Wait!”
“What?”
“I. . . had a question I wanted to ask.”
Kageyama feels the air between them thicken as the words leave Hinata’s mouth. He swallows, throat suddenly dry. “Then you should probably ask it,” he says, trying to make a joke and failing miserably. His boner’s starting to flag now that it’s clear this won’t be that kind of phone call.
“Oh. Right.” Gone is Hinata’s bravado, replaced by something alarmingly akin to nervousness. “Do you. . . is. . .” he clears his throat, “is bottoming something you wanna try?”
Oh. If he’s being honest, Kageyama expected something along these lines. That’s the only reason he’s able to remain (somewhat) composed as he replies with, “I wouldn’t have sent you that pic if I didn’t want it.” He lets the implication hang heavy in the air, listens as its true meaning sinks into Hinata.
“Jesus christ. Okay, I一okay.”
It’s Kageyama’s turn to be nervous about the question he wants to pose now. “Would一would that be something you’d want with me? Topping, I mean.”
Hinata laughs.
“Yes,
oh my god. Tobio, I want
everything
with you, no matter what it is.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“Good,” says Kageyama. Then, because he doesn’t want this whole ‘revealing things about their innermost desires’ thing to only apply to him, he adds, “Now it’s your turn.”
Kageyama practically hears the way Hinata cocks his head in confusion. “My turn for what?”
“To tell me something new you want during sex.”
Kageyama’s not sure exactly what changes with Hinata, but something does. There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other line, and a brief moment of silence before Hinata hurriedly says, “I don’t have anything, though.”
“Liar,” Kageyama says reflexively, his curiosity piqued. Hinata’s never been shy about what he wants, so him wanting to hide this must mean he’s really embarrassed.
“Nuh-uh.”
“I won’t judge you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I know that, just. . . ugh, it’s nothing.”
Kageyama’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little worried now. One of his biggest wishes in life is for them to have an honest relationship where they aren’t afraid to tell each other things, but it’s obvious Hinata’s preventing that from happening. “You can tell me, Sho,” he urges.
An exaggerated sigh, then, “It’s embarrassing, though.”
“Shouyou, I just sent you a close up picture of my asshole. You don’t think I know about embarrassing?”
When Hinata laughs, it’s music to Kageyama’s ears. “Fine, fine. Okay, so. You know I like when you pull my hair, right?”
“Mhm.” This is common knowledge at this point; tugging on Hinata’s hair while he’s blowing Kageyama is an easy way to make sure he’s enjoying it.
“I was thinking maybe you could. . .” Hinata mumbles the rest of it under his breath.
“Say that again, I couldn’t hear you.”
“Would it be okay if you were a little, y’know. . . meaner with it?”
“Meaner,” Kageyama repeats, mind whirling. “How do you mean?” There’s a rhythmic, tapping sort of sound coming from Hinata’s end, like he’s pacing around a room. Kageyama doesn’t know what to make of the possibility.
“Make it hurt more, and stuff. Just. . . you being mean in general would do it for me, I think.”
The images Kageyama comes up with are enough to remind him of how they felt before this conversation, when he’d first heard Hinata’s voice message. He’s far too aware of his heart and how it beats in his chest as he pictures what being mean in general would look like.
It seems he’s discovering a lot of new things about himself today.
“I could do that,” he replies, feigning casualness. “I could be mean to you.”
“You could?” Hinata sounds relieved.
Kageyama nods despite Hinata not being able to see him. “Yeah. I could make you beg for it, if you wanted. Not let you fuck me ‘til you’re a whining, pathetic mess, then. . .” He leaves the sentence for Hinata to finish, wanting to see where he’ll take it.
“Spit in my mouth. Call out how desperate I am for it,” Hinata supplies with no hesitation, as if in a trance.
Oh, fuck.
Kageyama has to physically hold himself back from doing just that. Over and over again, he repeats to himself that
it’s not the right time
and
we should talk more about it before I do anything.
Kageyama only realizes he hasn’t said anything when Hinata chuckles nervously and says, “Uh, anyways! What’re your plans for today?”
The attempt to change the subject is so glaringly obvious, Kageyama almost laughs. But he can tell it took a lot for Hinata to share that part of himself, so he’ll let it slide. For now.
They fall into casual conversation after that, the hours flying by as if they were seconds. Neither one of them brings up what they both confessed, but it’s clear something’s different between them, what with how their glances linger and how one of them always seems to be spaced out, daydreaming about something else. Kageyama wants, more than anything, to just talk about it, soak up this new information like a sponge, but he won’t push Hinata.
And if before he goes to sleep that night he jerks off thinking about just how mean he can be to Hinata, well. . . that’s nobody’s business but his own.
Time passes without Kageyama’s permission. The days blend into weeks, the weeks into months, and before he can even fully comprehend it he’s in front of his laptop, buying plane tickets to Rio.
His heart hammers in his throat, hands so sweaty they keep slipping on his keyboard. Part of him still can’t believe he’s really doing this.
I’m going to see Hinata, in person. I’m gonna hug him, and kiss him, and touch him and love him and. . . Kageyama feels giddy with all the possibilities, so happy he could burst with it.
He’s not telling Hinata. Of course he’s not. Hinata already surprised him, so it’s Kageyama’s turn now. Really, he’s got it all figured out. He’ll ask Hinata for his address randomly in a conversation, book a hotel close to it, take a few days to get settled and get used to the time difference, then show up at his place and. . . have a lot of crazy, intense reunion sex. Hopefully.
By the time Kageyama clicks purchase, he’s shaking like a leaf. But he’s smiling bigger than he has in a while, which more than makes up for it.
It should come as no surprise that upon landing in Rio, Kageyama immediately disregards his original plan. He’s too impatient to wait more than he already has to see Hinata again; it takes a heaping amount of self control for him not to show up at his apartment as soon as possible, suitcases and all.
Kageyama’s antsy for the entirety of his taxi ride to his hotel. He checks in with broken English, too focused on other things to be bothered by it. He literally opens the door to his room and (gently) throws his luggage into it before hunting for a taxi to take him to Hinata’s. The universe is on his side today; it takes less than a minute for him to get one.
He goes through every motion after that on autopilot, his brain switching on again only once he’s standing outside Hinata’s front door. He’s standing outside Hinata’s front door. Holy shit.
Kageyama raises his clenched fist with the intention to knock 一 only to have the door swing open before he can do anything and see Hinata standing in front of him, right there.
Right. There. In the flesh, mere feet away from one another. It’s a wonder Kageyama doesn’t fall to the floor with emotion.
Hinata’s staring down at his phone, so he doesn’t notice Kageyama right away. He’s dressed like he’s about to go for a run; compression leggings with shorts over them, running shoes, a water bottle clasped in his hand. Kageyama’s just about to say something when Hinata looks up.
And drops his water bottle.
“Tobio,” he whispers, taking a miniscule step forward. “You. . . what?”
Not wanting to linger in the hallway, Kageyama takes a step forward into Hinata’s apartment. “I beat you,” he says, with an almost childlike grin.
Hinata reaches out a hand to touch his shoulder, as if checking he's actually there and not a hologram. When his fingers meet solid flesh, he pulls Kageyama into a hug so tight it crushes his chest. “Tobio,” he breathes again, and in it Kageyama hears I’ve missed you and I love you and you’re here all at once.
Kageyama wraps his arms around Hinata’s waist, pulling him in. “Still wanna go for that run?” he asks into Hinata’s head, jokingly.
Hinata huffs. “Nah, I think I’m good.” He twists out of the hug, and Kageyama’s confused until he feels lips press against his own and a palm come up to cradle his jaw.
Instinctively, Kageyama deepens it, and it’s like a switch turns on within them.
He kicks the door closed with his foot as he steps further into Hinata’s home, their mouths still on each other. The forgotten water bottle hits Kageyama's shin, and he hisses into Hinata’s mouth. Hinata smiles as he traces Kageyama’s teeth with his tongue, fitting together like puzzle pieces.
Kageyama bites down hard on Hinata’s bottom lip, smiling when Hinata gasps in pain. He swallows the sound right up, using his size to his advantage to walk Hinata backwards until he’s pushed against the wall. He underestimated the distance so Hinata’s back slams against it, and Kageyama would pull away to ask if he’s alright if Hinata didn’t. . . didn’t moan.
Their new position forces Hinata’s crotch against Kageyama’s, and there are no words to describe how Kageyama feels when he realizes Hinata’s hard. From the pain. From Kageyama causing him pain.
Oh, god.
Hinata’s hands have winded themselves around Kageyama’s neck, and he’s pulling him down like he’s trying to fuse them together. Kageyama shoves his knee in between Hinata’s thighs, smirking when he immediately takes the opportunity to grind down on them.
Hinata tries to take control by drawing a hand down to palm Kageyama’s hard cock, but Kageyama doesn’t let him, one hand on the wall above his head and the other cradling his jaw as they kiss sloppily. He moves the hand from Hinata’s jaw to grab his wrists, holding them up against the wall to stop Hinata from moving. Hinata makes something that might be a whine of protest.
Kageyama pulls away from the kiss, cock twitching at the spit string that connects their lips for a split second before breaking. It’s so long it ends up on Hinata’s chin, wet and shiny and. . . an idea strikes Kageyama.
Be meaner with it. Spit in my mouth. Call out how desperate I am for it.
If there’s one thing Kageyama’s good at, it’s following instructions.
He doesn’t move the hand trapping Hinata’s wrists, instead using his free one to wind into Hinata’s soft curls. The moment Hinata realizes what’s about to happen is magic; his pupils dilate, mouth opening in an expectation of pleasure.
Kageyama gives no warning before he pulls on Hinata’s hair the hardest he ever has. The movement is so sharp Hinata’s head gets forced to the side, and he whimpers in a way Kageyama’s never heard before. It’s all high and raw and sexy, so sexy. The fact that Kageyama hasn’t come in his pants yet just from looking at him is a miracle.
He doesn't loosen his grip on Hinata’s hair but doesn’t move either, standing still. Kageyama can tell that Hinata’s a little uncomfortable with the angle his head is at, but he doesn’t say anything. “Okay?” Kageyama rasps, voice hoarse and already so fucked out.
Hinata nods frantically, feverishly. The way they kissed was so incredibly wet and his mouth is still open so there’s spit all over his chin, begging to be licked up by Kageyama. “Perfect,” he responds, like he’s scared this’ll be taken away from him if he stays silent. “Amazing, Tobio. . . ngh.”
Hinata trails off into a moan when Kageyama tugs on his hair again, just because he can. He’s drunk with how easily Hinata’s giving himself over, how willingly.
Kageyama leans forward, until his lips brush the shell of Hinata’s ear. He gives the cartilage a tiny bite before whispering, “Get on your knees.” He takes the hand out of Hinata’s hair to make it easier for him to do so.
Hinata looks confused for a millisecond before his expression melts into desire. Kageyama expected him to put up some argument, but he sinks to the floor without a word. It’s so unbearably arousing, Kageyama can’t help readjusting himself in his pants. He’s helpless but to notice how Hinata watches him, devouring the image.
The sight Hinata makes is heavenly. He’s sitting on his heels, the thin layer of his leggings and shorts doing nothing to hide how hard he is. There’s a noticeable wet patch at the front of the black fabric, and Kageyama eyes it greedily, hungrily. He imagines how it would taste, tongue making it wetter by licking over it, and makes a low sound in the back of his throat.
Kageyama knows Hinata has beautiful, big brown eyes he uses to get what he wants, but they look so much more unassuming, so much sweeter now that they’re being used to look up at Kageyama. His lashes are long, eyes wide, lips pouted, and Kageyama could fuck him right there, if that was what Hinata were on his knees for.
But it’s not.
Kageyama steps closer, until his toes touch Hinata’s knees. The angle forces Hinata’s neck to crane even more, mouth to open wider, and he takes the opportunity to collect the spit from Hinata’s chin and shove two of his fingers into Hinata’s mouth, until they’re almost touching the back of his throat.
Hinata chokes, eyes watering, as he starts sucking on them. Kageyama feels the way his mouth works, tongue tracing his knuckles, paying special attention to the callouses. As if thanking Kageyama, acknowledging him for the dedication behind them.
Kageyama stares down at him, sure his own boxers are beyond ruined with precome by now. Hinata’s gone cross eyed from the way he tries to look at what he’s doing. He’s sucking on Kageyama’s fingers like it was something he was born to do, biting down on them every so often to change things up.
It’s humiliating and filthy and Kageyama feels hungry watching him, desperate to do more. Hinata's drooling. His cheeks and ears are flushed. His hair is messy, hairline sticky with sweat. If Kageyama thinks about it, then he looks really. . .
“Pathetic,” he says out loud. “On your knees like that, your mouth full of me. . . so easy.”
Hinata moans, and Kageyama feels the vibrations on his fingers. He fucks his fingers a little deeper into Hinata’s mouth before pulling them out, wishing it were his dick instead.
Hinata tries to say something, but it’s too muffled to make out, so Kageyama takes his fingers out completely, entranced by how they glisten.
“Wanna fuck you,” Hinata begs. Genuinely begs, pleading, a second away from pressing his palms together. “Please, you'll look s’pretty, Tobio. . . please let me.”
Yes. Yes. Yes yes yes yes.
“Why should I?” asks Kageyama, despite the heat burning bright in his gut, despite every fibre of his being screaming at him to give him. “I have these, don't I?” he says, holding his spit soaked fingers up in show. The message is false, albeit clear: I can fuck myself just fine; I don’t need you.
Hinata rises up so he’s no longer sitting on his heel, his face now level with Kageyama’s lower stomach. He nuzzles against the muscle, careful not to touch Kageyama’s cock. “I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.” The promise hangs heavy in the air.
Let me spit in your mouth. Kageyama almost says it. He wants to, really badly. Instead, he guides Hinata’s mouth open with his thumb, his gentleness a stark contrast to all they’ve done so far.
“Even this?” he drawls.
When Hinata’s mouth is open to his liking, Kageyama leans down so their lips are a mere inch from each other. He makes Hinata sit like that, waiting, while he gathers the spit in his mouth. Hinata waits, and waits, and waits, eyes sparkling.
And when Kageyama finally spits into his mouth, he looks like he’s been blessed by the fucking gods. His eyes go heavy lidded, and he holds eye contact as he. . . as he swallows it like it’s some kind of divine dish and not Kageyama’s disgusting, unsanitary spit.
The look of pure euphoria on Hinata’s face is Kageyama’s final straw.
“Bedroom,” Kageyama all but demands, not trusting himself to wait any longer, “Need you in me.”
Hinata stumbles onto his feet, grabbing Kageyama for support. He pulls Kageyama into another kiss, touching whatever skin he can reach through clothing as he guides them to the bedroom. It takes longer than it should because Hinata keeps pausing to kiss Kageyama’s neck, but eventually they get there.
Hinata pushes Kageyama onto the mattress, giving him one final, slow kiss before separating for good. “Take off your clothes, baby,” he urges as he turns to a drawer, presumably for lube and condoms.
Kageyama considers being mean about it. Thinks about denying Hinata, making him watch as he opens himself up, not letting him touch. . . and it’s enticing, it is, but he’s wanted this for so long, and he can’t bring himself to taint it.
So he simply nods before ripping his clothes off until he’s fully naked in Hinata’s bed. They’re long past the point of shame where it concerns their bodies; Kageyama’s learnt to enjoy how Hinata drinks up his frame, eyes lingering on his favorite parts.
Kageyama naked is something he’s seen dozens of times before, yet he acts like it’s the first time when he comes to lie on his stomach between Kageyama’s spread legs. “You’re so pretty down here,” Hinata praises absentmindedly, running a dry finger down Kageyama’s frenulum to his hole.
Kageyama burns bright red, hating how quickly the roles have reversed. How is it possible he’s the one being teased, when just a minute ago he literally had Hinata on his knees? “Shut up,” he says with absolutely no bite.
Hinata makes a tsk -ing sound as he reaches for the lube and drizzles too much on his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it up. Kageyama watches him impatiently, wishing they could skip the fingering and get to the fucking.
“I wanna take my time with opening you up,” Hinata says, slipping the very tip of his index finger in. Kageyama’s back arches at the foreign sensation; he’s never been fingered by someone else before, and it feels electrifying in all the best ways. “Wanna feel you get looser around me.”
He’s got half of his index finger in now, and he’s lazily thrusting it in and out.
“I can take more than that, c’mon.”
Hinata ignores him, focusing on lightly grazing Kageyama’s chest. His nipples are hard peaks, and they somehow stiffen even more when Hinata brushes a tentative finger over one. It’s a light touch, barely there, yet Kageyama still throws his head back in response, his entire body shaking with drunken anticipation.
His cock stands flush against his bare stomach, neglected. Kageyama’s almost glad Hinata isn’t touching it; if he was, this would all be over far too soon.
When Hinata finds his prostate two fingers in, they both react viscerally. Kageyama bites his lip to suppress the shudder that racks his body, forcing out a raggedy, “Shouyou.”
“I know,” Hinata says as he slides in a third finger and begins to scissor it, sounding as if he’s underwater. Kageyama feels the bed shake slightly and looks down, confused, only to see Hinata humping it, his hips sloppily thrusting into the mattress.
“Shouyou, Shouyou,” Kageyama gasps, grabbing his hair and forcing him to make eye contact. “Look at you, you’re. . . you’re humping the mattress like a bitch in heat. I know you wanna fuck me and I’m ready, I swear, come on.”
That seems to do the trick.
When Hinata pulls his fingers out, Kageyama helps him to get undressed. He swears he hears fabric tear in their desperation to get Hinata naked. They give up on the leggings when they’re mid thigh, fingers shaking with want.
“You’re gonna look so good stuffed with my cock,” Hinata promises.
Kageyama’s lying on his back, anticipation bubbling in his gut as he watches Hinata roll on a condom and lube himself up and line up against Kageyama’s wet, ready hole. He takes a deep breath before sliding in to the base, all in one, perfect go.
And. . . and jesus. Oh god, oh god. Kageyama’s so full, he can feel it in his throat. Hinata’s touching him everywhere; he wouldn’t be able to escape from the overwhelming sensation even if he wanted to.
Jumbled moans and half-formed words above him inform that Hinata feels the exact same way.
Kageyama looks down at where they’re joined, transfixed. His belly bulges with how hard and big Hinata is inside him, and without thinking he reaches a hand to press against it, feeling how his insides mold to the shape of Hinata’s cock. His skin is so thin and he can feel everything, each vein.
The reaction from Hinata is immediate. His head drops to Kageyama’s shoulder, bites the skin there so hard Kageyama feels blood drip down it. His cock fucking twitches inside Kageyama, presses a little deeper, and Kageyama can’t stop himself from whimpering and saying, “Oh my god, you're. . . so big. It’s like一like I’m pregnant.”
There’s no word to describe how Hinata reacts other than feral. A low sound rumbles from his throat and his hips jerk forward, hands bruising where they grip Hinata’s hips. “Yeah, yeah. Fuck, I. . . Tobio, ‘m gonna get you so pregnant, swear to god. You’re gonna一gonna be mine, and look so pretty carrying my babies, such a good boy.”
Kageyama’s head falls back, revealing a neck bitten pink and purple. He can do nothing but nod, mouth open and drooling, all the way down to his collarbone. “‘Cause that’s all you’re good for, yeah?” he pants, dick dripping precome when Hinata moans in response. “You’re just that desperate to fuck me stupid with you’re cock, aren’t you?”
Hinata nods, pulling out an inch and staying there. He’s so hot Kageyama burns where they’re connected, which seems to be everywhere right now. “Can I一wanna move. Can I, Tobio, please?”
“Yes, yeah. Fuck me, Shouyou.”
Hinata doesn’t need to be told twice; he starts to fuck.
Hinata snaps his hips hard, thrusting in and out. When he pushes into the base he grinds, right against Kageyama’s prostate. It makes Kageyama see fucking stars. His head is fuzzy, filled with nothing but sparks of pleasure and more more more.
He grabs Hinata’s ass cheeks, trying to pull himself deeper onto Hinata’s cock. Hinata groans at the new, unexpected stimulation. “You’re so tight,” he praises, slurred, “I wanna do this forever. . .”
“With me?” Kageyama says amidst a gasp when the head of Hinata’s cock nudges his prostate.
“Mhm, only with you一you. . . you’re mine, you know?” Hinata growls, reaching down to jerk Kageyama off. Kageyama’s toes curl. He rocks his hips down, meeting Hinata on every thrust.
“Say it,” Hinata urges.
“W-what?”
“Say you’re mine.”
And oh, that’s so not fair. Not fair at all. Just like that, Kageyama’s close to coming. “I’m. . . fuck, Shouyou.” It’s hard to keep focused on what he wants to say when Hinata’s fucking him so good, like it was something he was born to do.
“Please.”
“I’m一yours,” he forces out.
“Yes, Tobio. . . I’m close.”
“Same, same,” Kageyama babbles in response.
One, two, three more thrusts and Hinata’s coming, messily jerking Kageyama off until he is too. Kageyama chokes a sob as his cock leaks come onto Hinata’s abs. As Hinata fills the condom, he finds himself wishing they did it raw instead, and that thought alone has him scratching whatever bare skin of Hinata’s he can get his hands on.
He's not sure how long it takes to regain his grip on reality. By the time he has, there’s a towel wiping the sweat and come from his body, and Hinata smiling at him like he hung up the stars. It’s a nice feeling, to be looked at like that.
To be looked at with pure, unfiltered love.
“That was probably the warmest welcome I’ve gotten in my life,” Kageyama says as he sits up, wincing at the slight ache in his lower back and thighs.
Hinata chuckles as he throws the towel off to the side, along with all their clothes. He kneels on the bed so he’s just slightly towering over Kageyama. “Was it, now?”
“On second note, maybe not. We should probably go again to check. . .”
“I mean, if you insist.”