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It’s 7:30 in the evening and Shōyō has been awake since 5 o’ clock in the morning. Maybe if he was still his 15 year old, high school self he would be fine, but no; he is his 23 year old just-won-gold-at-the-2020-Olympics self and is therefore pooped. The chair he’s sitting in makes his ass hurt, the collar of his button up itches his neck, and an hour ago Tobio told the bartender that the open bar is no longer open for his husband anymore.
Holy shit. Tobio is his husband. Like, his “til-death-do-us-part” kind of husband. Whoa. His brown eyes are wide when looks to his left, looks to his husband, drinking in the sight of the black haired man in a charcoal suit, two buttons undone; his collarbone (and a fading hickey) just barely showing. He’d opted to go tie-less, while Shōyō, in a black suit, had worn a bright orange tie. Tobio had called him a “nostalgic loser who needs to put high school behind himself already.” In actuality, Natsu had chosen the tie and Shōyō had worn it because, even years later, he still can’t say no to her deadly pout/puppy eyes combo.
Even so, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget his years in high school. Karasuno is where his life began. Karasuno is probably the only reason his life has turned out like it has. It’s where he met all but a few of his friends, where he grew into the kind of athlete he is today… where he met the love of his life.
Yeah, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget Karasuno.
“You’re staring.” Shōyō blinks, brought out of his reverie by Tobio’s voice (his husband’s voice, he thinks giddily). Shōyō gives Tobio his dopiest smile and says simply, “You’re my husband. We’re married.”
A small blush permeates his husband’s cheeks, followed by a small smile that still manages to melt Shōyō’s heart. “We are.” Says Tobio. “And you’re my husband.”
Shōyō’s grin only widens and he can’t help but lean forward and peck his husband’s now flaming cheek. It isn’t often that Tobio is able to say things even vaguely romantic, even after being together for close to six years, so Shōyō treasures each and every moment like this. Then again, this is his wedding day so he probably won’t forget this for a long while.
A sudden surge of happiness hits him and he leans forward again, this time to bury his face in Tobio’s neck. “I love you.” He mumbles into the skin there.
He feels Tobio’s finger’s brush away a stray lock of orange hair, feels him tilt his head to rest his cheek on the top of Shōyō’s head, feels the small rush of air through his hair as Tobio replies, “I love you too”.
They stay like that for what feels like hours, but is probably only a few minutes. During that time he vaguely hears Natsu stand up, saying that she’s going to use the restroom real quick, but they remain otherwise undisturbed. Their peace is broken by the unexpected flash of a camera and they both jolt up at the same time, Shōyō’s head knocking Tobio’s chin as he does so. They look up to see Noya, partially hidden by the aforementioned camera, but not covered enough to hide the shit eating grin threatening to split his face.
“C’mon, that was so tooth-rottingly sweet I had to take a picture.” He defended, after seeing the twin glares directed his way. “Look even Asahi thinks so, don’t you Asahi?” he asked, jumping up to shove the camera in the former ace’s face.
Asahi, though startled by suddenly having a very small man suddenly shove something dangerously close to his face, regained his composure quickly and looked past the camera and into Noya’s face instead. “Don’t drag me into your messes Yū!” he retorted.
Shōyō laughed outright at the betrayed look on Noya’s face, while Tobio hid his chuckle behind is hand. Asahi had long grown out of letting Noya push him around and though it had been years, it still seemed to startle the shorter man.
Noya huffed, crossing his arms and raising his chin. “Well fine.” He turned on his heel to face Tobio and Shōyō. “I’m actually here to tell you two that it’s time to toss the bouquet. Suga’s orders.”
The newlyweds’ eyes widened. Oh shit. Years later and Suga still had power over each and every one of them. He knew things. Secret things. Things he was not afraid to let slip.
Where had Suga even gotten a bouquet anyway? Neither he nor Tobio had used one during the ceremony and only the groom’s-maids had had them… He gently slapped his hand on the table. Dammit Natsu. She’d been wheedling him about his refusal to toss the bouquet since Tobio and he had first gotten engaged. She must have mentioned it to Suga and, die hard romantic that he was, there was no way he was going to say no to the idea. Actually, Shōyō was surprised that Suga hadn’t mentioned it earlier. Probably so that he could spring it on them now, with no way to refuse unless they wanted to make a scene in front of all their guests.
Wait a minute.
Shōyō stood, offering a hand to his husband. “So husband,” he drawled. “Think we should go toss the bouquet?” he finished, a decidedly mischievous twinkle in his brown eyes. A second after saying it and Tobio got his meaning. He’s eyes’ mirrored Shōyō’s.
“Why husband, I would love to toss the bouquet with you.” He replied, taking Shōyō’s proffered hand, standing, and following his husband to the front of the wedding party’s table.
They stood holding hands while Suga rounded up the singles from the crowd and Daichi grabbed the mic to announce what was going on. Five minutes later and they both stood holding the orange and white bouquet of various flowers neither of them knew the names of, in front of a small group of 15 or so people, mainly groom’s-maids and, Shōyō noted with a short laugh, Noya and Yamaguchi (to the horror of both of their partners).
“Hurry up and toss it!” yelled one of the guests. The others laughed and a small chant of “toss it, toss it, toss it” started up, gaining volume as it spread through the reception hall. Shōyō gave his husband a look and slowly backed a five large steps away.
Tobio prepared to raise his arms, bouquet in hand, in a familiar stance, one that quickly got the attention of the more volleyball-savvy in the room. As Tobio raised his arms, time seemed to slow.
Happy smiles morphed into looks of recognition, and then shock on their friends’, while the rest of the crowd remained oblivious. Suga, who had been standing on the sidelines, rushed forward from the left, Asahi from the right. Daichi seemed to be in a sort of shock induced paralysis, his jaw nearly to the ground and his eyes wide.
Suga and Asahi nearly ran into one another, swerving to avoid a collision and knocking over one of the hopeful grooms’-maids in the group. In an almost domino like fashion all of the groom’s-maids were down and out. Only a couple of groom’s-men, Yamaguchi and Noya included, were left standing.
Regaining his footing, Suga once again made a dive for Tobio. But it was too late. With a flick of his wrists Tobio had sent the bouquet soaring, only a fraction less graceful than he would a volleyball. Shōyō took two quick steps forward before leaping into the air, his palm hitting the bouquet and sending it flying to his target.
His feet hit the ground, sliding for a second in his formal loafers before regaining his footing, and time seemed to lurch back to normal. Shōyō froze for a minute before turning to see his husband at his side, the both of them then turning again to take in the scene.
Suga was still on the floor where Tobio had been moments before, now accompanied by a hovering and concerned Daichi. Groom’s-maids were having trouble helping each other up, what with the heels they were all wearing, and most of the groom’s-men seemed to still be in shock. Noya was doubled over laughing and pointing at Asahi, where he too still sit on the floor, a look of worry stuck on his face and tears spilling down his cheeks. Finally, they looked to the one who had caught, well, more like been given, since they had both been aiming for him, the bouquet.
Petal's in his hair and clutching a haggard bouquet, Yamaguchi’s look of shock, which soon turned into a wide smile, was only beaten by the look of absolute horror on Tsukishima’s face.
As they finally turn to each other, it was all over.
Natsu walks calmly back to the main reception hall, wiping the lingering dampness on her hands onto her pale orange dress. She hopes she hadn’t missed the bouquet toss. Her steps quicken as she nears the hall, though they slow down considerably until she comes to a full stop in front of the door. What is all that noise? she wonders, pushing open the door. She’s greeted by the sound of her brother and her brother-in-law’s deep guffaws. They’re leaning on one another, holding each other’s elbows as they struggle to catch their breath. As their laughter tapers off, they lean together, foreheads touching and noses nuzzling.
Still standing in the open doorway, Natsu pulls her cell from her purse and snaps a picture of the scene. She thinks that she just found the perfect cover photo for their wedding album.