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Oh, much to Kageyama’s delight, Atsumu was the first to notice.
And unlike the rest of the Japan National Team, it wasn't during the Adlers match, nor was it because of the smiles they shared, the training and living together in Tokyo, or the desperate need Kageyama seemed to have to stare at Hinata for just a beat too long—with a tiny smile on his lips that you could only catch if you were paying close enough attention.
Tsumu had noticed it way before that; it was back at the All-Japan Youth Training Camp in 2014.
Kageyama hadn't been surprised by Hoshiumi. A little by his reception and blocking ability, sure, but... he seemed to be thinking about something else. When he tossed that short set to Omi, Miya genuinely wondered what the hell Kageyama was even doing there with them. Until he thought that maybe, just maybe, the setter had gotten used to someone as much as he himself had gotten used to his brother's presence on the court.
And then he saw it.
Kageyama's attitude seemed different. Grittier. And the Karasuno player who moved the most under his demands—"Up!", "Fast!", "Jump!"—was the short, flashy number ten.
It felt spectacular to see how Hinata could make Kageyama go beyond his unyielding ideals of a play, driving him to create things that were entirely impossible, even for a volleyball genius like him. Shouyou dazzled Atsumu, but Atsumu noticed that the only one who seemed able to look right at him without burning up—or who seemed to actively want to be incinerated by him—was, simply put, Kageyama.
He was captivated by him. And that block against Osamu...
Underneath the frustration and the dull ache of defeat lay a certainty: that pair of monsters was connected, and Kageyama was crazy about his middle blocker. He saw him clench his fists while kneeling next to the shrimp at the end of the match, as if he wanted to reach out, grab someone, and was holding himself back.
The best thing to do was to rattle him.
"I'll toss to you one day," he'd said.
Atsumu didn't know whether to attribute Hinata's confused look to exhaustion or prejudice, but he didn't care. Kageyama, on the other hand, looked ready to growl, throwing a fierce glare his way. He remained serious, stoic. But that look—which reminded him of Omi's severity—was a lot; it was incredible that anyone could even compare to him.
Then he remembered seeing that same fire before the match, when he'd judged Hinata too quickly.
He mentioned it to Osamu in the locker room:
"That kid is crazy about the shrimp."
Nowadays, sharing an Olympic team, the best time to see Kageyama squirming over Hinata was in the locker room.
Everyone knew Tobio wasn't exactly a fan of sex or physical touch. He'd seen plenty of his teammates naked without a single reaction. Looking at them didn't bother him, having them close didn't make him blush, and he certainly didn't care if someone talked to him while he showered or changed his underwear after a particularly gross practice.
Then Shouyou arrived.
His presence was a literal ray of sunshine: energizing, effusive, and cheerful. It was impossible not to smile when he was around, impossible not to notice his presence in a room, let alone on the court.
But it seemed to be the death of Tobio.
"Kageyama-kun, that block on Loser was amazing!"
Tobio looked down at the floor, turning his head away from his opposite. Miya noted his pink ears with amusement.
"Tsk," he grunted.
It didn't help that Hinata had zero modesty. Shamelessly, with his sculpted, tan body, he pulled on his boxers while trying to get a response out of his partner.
"I'm serious! You even fooled De Cecco, it was insane."
It looked like all of Kageyama's blood had rushed straight to his face. He avoided looking at Hinata as if his life depended on it.
Oh, and Atsumu didn't miss the blatant look Shouyou gave Kageyama's boxer-clad crotch.
When the redhead looked up, he caught Atsumu's smirk as the wing spiker stretched his shirt before putting it on. The attacker actually seemed a bit embarrassed and blushed, though that didn't stop him from staring as Kageyama's muscles moved to pull his clean shirt down over his chest after pulling up his shorts.
"You had some impressive receptions out there. You did great, Hinata."
It was a common compliment, nothing Hinata hadn't heard before, but the shrimp seemed to light up completely.
"Thank you, Kageyama-san!''
It was brief, but Atsumu managed to catch a fleeting, tender smile Tobio gave Shouyou. One that seemed designed solely for him.
To his disappointment, Kageyama realized Atsumu was watching them both. He immediately stepped beside Hinata, shielding him from Miya's view with his back.
While Kageyama muttered to Shouyou to put some clothes on, Atsumu raised his voice:
"Shou-kun, put your pants on quick before—!"
Someone pinched his side.
"Hey!" he complained, turning to his boyfriend, Omi.
"Of course it would be you."
"Shut up," Omi frowned. "Why won't you let me mess with him?"
Omi looked at him like he'd asked for shampoo instructions.
"Kageyama isn't the only one who has to be jealous of shameless, annoying people all the time."
That shut his mouth. It made him (almost) forget the joy of teasing Tobio and gave him other ideas on how to occupy his time (like getting Omi back to their hotel room as fast as possible to kiss the two moles on his forehead).
Something else that amused Tsumu was how going to Brazil had turned Hinata into walking sex appeal.
Don't get him wrong, Kiyoomi was the god of lust to Miya—the definition of the hottest man alive, especially when he looked at Atsumu with desire after a challenge left his mouth. He loved showing him exactly what he could do with that mouth.
Ah, right, anyway... Hinata.
Apparently, he'd been taught how to dance like the locals do in South America.
Shouyou was just moving his hips to the music, and with his orange curls, toned muscles, and sun-ray smile, he naturally attracted all kinds of people. Except Tobio wasn't about to let that slide.
Atsumu was too focused on dancing with Omi, making sure he didn't run away despite being in a comfortable, uncrowded corner, when he noticed a striking scene between Hinata and a stranger.
The man walked up behind Hinata and boldly grabbed his ass with both hands.
Before Hinata could even turn around to throw a punch, someone beat him to it. Kageyama lunged forward, his fist connecting squarely with the man's face.
The man crashed heavily to the floor. A glass shattered nearby, and a woman gasped over the loud music, but Tobio's growl was fierce and clear:
"Don't you dare lay a single hand on him!"
Hinata, whose arm was quickly grabbed by Kageyama to pull him behind his back, tugged against him.
"Kageyama-"
The man stayed on the floor, dazed. Security guards immediately rushed over. Hinata stepped forward and quickly explained what had happened. The guards nodded, grabbed the man by his arms, and dragged him away across the floor.
Shouyou didn't waste a second; he grabbed Tobio's hand and pulled him in the opposite direction, toward the back exit.
Atsumu muttered to Samu that he hoped they'd be okay.
Tobio had hurt his hand.
What if Tobio had broken that guy's jaw? Would the guy press charges? Would he go to jail?
Hinata's mind was racing. He kept pulling insistently on Tobio's hand until they finally slipped out the back door while the guards dealt with the guy out front.
Once they were far enough away from the music, Hinata stammered:
"I have a first-aid kit in my bag at the hotel. Maybe we can go and—"
He felt Tobio's large, cool, calloused hands cup his face, holding his cheeks.
"Calm down, it's just a scratch."
Hinata smiled faintly, his heart still hammering.
"Your hands are cold."
"And you're all sweaty, idiot."
He laughed a little at the affectionate insult. As he squeezed his eyes shut, a couple of tears slipped down his cheeks. Tobio wiped them away.
His face held the intense concentration of being mid-match, but his eyes were too bright and his mouth turned down slightly as he asked:
"Why are you crying, Hinata?"
Shouyou was buzzed, and the whole situation had overwhelmed him. He just felt so guilty for what had happened, and now Tobio was hurt because of him. He whispered it out.
"Plus, you're a setter. If your hands are messed up..."
Tobio hushed him, not with his usual harshness, but with a tenderness Hinata had never seen in him. He felt, with a sense of wonder, Tobio's fingers brushing the tears from his face. He felt protected.
"It's not your fault. I'm just the one who doesn't know how to throw a proper hook."
Hinata smiled a little, but his face crumpled again, a few more tears escaping.
"Still... I..."
With a gentle hand on his jaw, Kageyama closed his mouth for him.
"Tell you what, Shouyou. We're going to the hotel, and you're going to fix up my hand. Then, if you want, we can order some meat buns from room service and watch a few episodes of One Piece.”
Hinata pouted before Kageyama added, his voice softer than it had ever been:
"And we can talk about this, but I'd rather do it somewhere we can both be calm. Not out on the street, okay?"
He forced himself to take a deep breath and nod. Tobio wiped his face one last time.
"Good," he whispered, stepping back and pulling out his phone. "I'll call an Uber."
The ride was quiet. Hinata rested his head on Tobio's shoulder, and Tobio stroked his hair while looking out the window. When they reached the hotel, they thanked the driver and got out of the Jeep.
He felt someone take his hand; it took him a second to realize it was Tobio. He was walking ahead without looking back, but he guided him as if they were on the court and he'd just signed to Hinata where the ball was going.
Hinata frowned as he watched Tobio's knuckles gleam under the lobby lights from the small amount of blood oozing from them. Tobio didn't look at his middle blocker until they stepped into the elevator.
"What's wrong?"
Hinata looked up, letting himself get lost in that deep, deep blue.
"Does it hurt?"
Kageyama smiled softly. "Don't worry, we're almost there."
The walk from the elevator to Hinata's room was quick. As soon as they got inside, Shouyou told him to sit on the bed and practically dove into his backpack until he pulled out the glorious white case.
Sitting across from him, he opened the kit, grabbed a cotton ball, carefully applied hydrogen peroxide, and gently dabbed it over his setter's wound. He looked up; Tobio was already staring at him.
"Does it hurt a lot?"
Hinata couldn't decode everything the shine in Kageyama's eyes was trying to say.
"Why are you crying, dumbass?"
It wasn't an insult, not between them. It couldn't be, because it was Kageyama, because of their history, and because of the damn affection packed into those words.
Shouyou didn't even realized his eyes had filled with tears again while cleaning his knuckles. He felt that tightening in his chest once more. He looked down at the raven-haired boy's hand. God, he'd probably ruined a national volleyball treasure.
"You got hurt because of me."
"I didn't," Tobio murmured. "It was that asshole."
"But I provoked him."
"Hinata."
He didn't know how Kageyama's commanding tone could blend into a conversation like this, but apparently, it fit perfectly. He tensed slightly. Tobio's expression softened with a sigh, and he pulled him into a hug.
Shouyou wrapped his arms around his shoulders, burying his face in his setter's hair. Kageyama was still cool to the touch. Hinata let himself melt against him, tears spilling over again.
"You didn't provoke him."
"I was just there, dancing, and I saw him looking so I waved. Then he came over and did that—"
"It's not your fault. You weren't asking for it."
"Maybe he misinterpreted what I did," he stammered.
Tobio brought a hand to the back of his middle blocker's head, gently stroking his hair.
"No, Shouyou. He didn't."
He sobbed a little, and as a few more tears fell, he mumbled through a tight throat:
"I ruined your knuckles. A relic of Japanese volleyball."
To his delight, that actually made Kageyama chuckle.
"I was your setter before I was Japan's setter. So you only ruined what's yours."
The implication made Hinata explode inside. He pulled back, looking at him closely. Tobio stared right back, those blue eyes seeming to consume him as they both waited to see who would make the first move.
Though Hinata didn't want to do it like this. What he said next was hard, but he needed Tobio to know the truth and not misinterpret anything.
"I... I don't want to..." Tobio's face was already starting to fall when Hinata gasped:
"No! I mean...! I really like you, and I think you're incredible and beautiful—but I don't want my first kiss with you to be all tearful and drunk. I want to remember this moment perfectly. Just as it is, okay?"
Just when Hinata thought, given his serious expression, that Tobio would tell him to screw off, the setter leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"I waited six years. I can wait one more day. As long as you want, Hinata."
He didn't even think before protesting.
"You called me Shouyou earlier."
Tobio rolled his eyes before pulling away and grabbing the first-aid kit.
"Do you think I should bandage my knuckles, or is a Band-Aid enough?"
The next day, Shouyou felt awful. His throat was dry and his head was literally throbbing, but a pair of arms wrapped around him at his very first morning groan.
"Hangover?" Tobio murmured, his voice rough with sleep.
"Yeah..." he let out a long whine.
Pressing a kiss to his head, Tobio stood up.
"You're so dramatic."
Still, he grabbed a small bottle of water from the room's mini-fridge and took out the hangover pills he'd spotted in the first-aid kit the night before. He sat back down next to him as Shouyou sat up.
"Here."
He didn't know how to feel when Tobio took him by the chin and gently guided the water bottle to his mouth, but he felt his cheeks burn. Once he pulled the bottle away and Shouyou swallowed, he gave him a huge smile.
"Thanks, Tobio."
Kageyama blinked at him. Maybe it had caught him off guard, but through everything last night, Hinata hadn't called him by his first name once. And now he was...
The wing spiker watched with delight as his setter flushed slightly.
"I... you're welcome?"
Shouyou leaned in a little closer.
"You know I have a reward for you for saving me yesterday, right?"
Tobio sighed deeply, betraying himself with a fond smile.
"Oh yeah? Like what, Hinata?"
"What did you call me?"
He heard him huff right against his lips.
"Like what, Shouy...?"
He cut him off by kissing him softly. Hinata still had the blankets draped over him, so it wasn't hard for Kageyama to lean him back against the headboard, hovering over him.
They had both wanted this for so long.
After the fifth kiss, a mischievous thought crossed Tobio's mind:
I can't wait to kiss him right in front of Miya.
When it finally happened, Atsumu’s reaction was to yell happily while they were warming up at practice:
"Finally! I'm gonna tell Omi he owes me three yen and a French kiss!"
Kageyama frowned, utterly confused.
"A... what? You're with Kiyoomi?!"
Shouyou raised an eyebrow.
"You didn't know, Tobi?"
"No... Did you?!"
As his boyfriend answered, Kageyama felt like an idiot.
He'd been jealous over nothing.
Watching Shouyou talk, he breathed a deep sigh. He was beautiful. Maybe he did need to worry a little bit about other people, but not about him.
Just then, Hinata smiled at him warmly, pointing out that he was making that exact same stupid face he always made when he stared for too long. Tobio answered with something that made him smile.
"Oh, Tobi, you're cute too."
He gave him a quick kiss, thinking: He loves me too.