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“Yama—mhm—” Shouyou’s breathless whisper is drowned by another searing kiss. They’re still close now, shoes touching, minutes dripping on for years. Tobio’s arms squeeze around Shouyou’s waist, fitting their bodies together, and Shouyou’s hands in Tobio’s hair, contemplating in the daze of their hot breaths to either pull Tobio back or tug him even closer.
He doesn’t need to ponder for long, though. Because Tobio tilts his face aside and deepens the kiss, driving the back of Shouyou’s head against the wall.
Winter comes early this year. Only a few days into October but chilly winds have already frosted people’s noses and made them shiver under heavy coats. It’ll snow soon in Miyagi, some predict with a shake of their heads. Shouyou, on the other hand, is unaffected by the cold. Not when Tobio’s body heat is warming him up. Not when Tobio’s kissing him lazily in front of his apartment. And not when finally, he’s here—they’re here. Together.
Miyagi will snow soon, Shouyou’s stomach is full of happy thoughts. Hisa will love the snow.
“C’mon,” Shouyou says and pushes Tobio back, just enough to see the pout on his face. “It’s late, Hisa’s waiting for you.”
“Oikawa-san said 7.” Tobio brushes him off and trails his lips along Shouyou’s jawline, featherlight touches drawing out a fit of giggles.
“It’s 6:45.”
“5 more minutes.”
“Don’t be a baby when you have a baby to take care of, dad.”
“Can you not?” Tobio physically cringes at the way Shouyou calls him, which only makes the smile on Shouyou’s lips stretch wider. Tobio stares at him for a moment, crappy fluorescent light in the hallway makes his blue eyes soft and warm. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay with us tonight?”
“Yes, for the 185th time, I’m sure.” Shouyou bursts out a laugh. “I needa clean the apartment, remember? Natsu’s visiting soon.”
“She’s too used to your mess by now,” Tobio grumbles.
“I’m still her older brother! Role model matters, Bakageyama!”
“Says the one calling her at 2am because of a nightmare.” Tobio rolls his eyes and squeezes Shouyou’s cheeks, cutting off his indignant protest by smashing their lips together in angry, snappy kisses. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, for lunch.”
“I want vatapá.”
“Yes, yes, your Highness, whatever you want. Now go pick up our daughter before I got an earful from Suga-san again.”
Tobio hums and kisses Shouyou again, soft, lasting. His goodbye kiss is always soft. Whispers are exchanged against lips in the quiet hallway, and a few minutes later, Tobio’s gone. Still, his warmth remains on Shouyou’s skin, his clothes, his smile. Shouyou doesn’t think it’ll go away any time soon.
The idea makes him giddy, so giddy that he hums to the song played in his restaurant earlier while opening the door.
“Well well well, what have we here?” A voice says ominously as soon as Shouyou flips on the light switch.
“Holy fucking Jes…” Shouyou yelps. Back slams against the wall. Soul leaves his body for a second. He turns to the figure sitting near the dining table and growls. “Can you at least turn on the light?”
“And miss out on your scandalous affair? Not today, lover boy.” Natsu gasps theatrically. “Hinata Shouyou, Japan's beloved volleyball player, made out with a mysterious man in front of his apartment while leaving his sister bored to death.”
“Yes, because it’s so scandalous for me to spend time with my boyfriend without little shits like you getting in the way.” Shouyou deadpans, opting to pour himself a glass of water instead of dealing with Natsu’s shit-eating grin. Where did she get that smile from anyway?
“Boyfriend, eww.” Natsu shudders exaggeratedly. “Old people don’t call each other boyfriend anymore, Shouyou.”
Shouyou scoffs.
“I’ve waited for you to come in for like 5 hours or something. Fuck faster next time.”
“Language, Natsu!”
“What? You did look like a pervy old man when you got in. Don’t tell me—”
“One more word about my age and I’ll kick you out I swear to god!”
Natsu did, in fact, make more snarky comments about his age than necessary. And Shouyou did, in fact, not kick her out of his apartment. They ended up on the floor of his living room instead. Empty tea mugs on the table, socked feet kicking, Mario Kart going on for hours.
“You look happy,” Natsu says mindlessly as her Wario speeds up.
“I am happy.” Shouyou grunts while squeezing the button to drift through the corner and dodging Natsu’s sneaky attacks. There’ve been more games than he can count of already, but somehow, Hinata Shouyou—Japan’s most loveable volleyball player, Olympics gold medalist, top player in Brazil, still can’t get ahold of a silly video game against his little sister. “Gonna be happier when I win this round, just you wait!”
“I’m not talking about the game, stupid.” Natsu snorts. “I mean—with Tobio.”
Shouyou pauses. “Yeah, we’re good now, aren’t we?”
“But are you sure you’re up for parenthood? Taking care of a child is—I don’t know, only a few months ago you were still freaking out about whether Tobio had feelings for you or not.”
“Hey,” a soft call. Shouyou turns aside and holds Natsu’s hand, ignoring the fact that his Luigi’s jumped off a cliff. “I love him and Hisa a lot, okay? There’s nothing to worry about.”
Natsu squeezes his hand back. But she doesn’t look at him, her eyes staring blankly at the TV. They sit still for a few seconds, quiet, save for the game’s cheery background music. Until Natsu finally says, “Takeru proposed.”
“Oh.” Shouyou makes a noise. Then he remembers something. “O—Ohhh.”
“You knew,” Natsu says, matter-of-factly.
“Well, duh.” Shouyou shrugs. “As if I’m gonna let anyone propose to my little sister without asking for my permission.”
“Asking for your per—what am I? Victorian duchess? ” Natsu groans. “I’m not little anymore, I’m 28, Shouyou.”
“Aw look who tryna be a grown-up now.” Shouyou snickers and ruffles her well-styled curls, which makes her shriek. “You’re still my baby girl, my little meow meow, my tiny, itty-bitty, 2 centimeters shorter than me sister.”
“You’re an ass!”
They fight, ruthless, going for blood as Natsu tickles Shouyou’s ribcage while he pays back by messing up her hair. Crazed laughter and muted curses bounce against the walls before they both end up in a heap on the floor, breathless, cheeks red and eyes teary from laughing and crying. Staring at the ceiling for a moment, Natsu flips aside and hugs her brother, squeezing him with her limbs.
“You’re crushing my windpipe!” Shouyou grunts and shoves her off, but she doesn’t budge.
“Shouyou,” Natsu says, her face on his shoulder and her voice small. “I’m scared. How can I know—if I’m ready?”
Strength leaves Shouyou because of her quiet tone. Slumping down to the floor, he stares blankly at the ceiling light. The intense white beam makes his eyes prickly. “I don’t know, it’s hard to—you know, truly be ready. But, you do love him, right?”
Natsu nods in an instant. “Yeah.”
“And he loves you too, you’re good together. So even if you don’t think you’re ready yet, then that’s alright, cause he’ll be there for you,” Shouyou mutters, a little lost, like he was talking to himself.
“Wow, you sound really wise there, older brother.” Natsu chuckles.
“Fuck off, go to a career center next time if you want advice on your future. I have my own problems to think about.”
“Oh you’re thinking now! I honestly never thought this day would come.”
“I’m gonna kill you for real this time!”
And with them messing around as if they were just worry-free kids, with the diamond ring on Natsu’s fingers and the photo frame of three people on Shouyou’s cabinet, he knows that they’re alright. He knows that they’re happy.
School holiday is around the corner, and just when Shouyou’s ready to have a week full of Hisa by his side, Tobio comes to him with an announcement, eyes shy and ears a little red. “Oikawa-san and Suga-san want to take Hisa to Tokyo for a week. They said that we can use this opportunity to—um, date—or some shit like that.”
Date, though, for Shouyou’s a fluid concept. Rather than melted ice cream and roller coaster and cotton candy, his mind drifts to somewhere else. Somewhere hotter, blurrier. He thinks about his blunt nails digging into Tobio’s sweaty biceps, about teeth biting into lips to muffle moans, about them moving together slowly, desperately, trying not to make a sound.
Heat rushes everywhere. Shouyou croaks out. “Yeah, that’s—uh, nice.”
Tobio looks at him. His eyes of something dark, challenging. As if that hungry gaze can hold Shouyou by the neck and squeeze him, pin him down, make him beg for it. His throat turns dry and his stomach churns at the anticipation when Tobio says, voice dropping an octave. “I’ll pick you up after work at 7?”
Shouyou hums and nods quickly, knowing for a fact that his voice would betray him if he dares speak now.
Keep it cool, Shouyou. He tells himself.
He did not keep it cool.
Work has been challenging, that day. He fidgets more, spaces out more, mistakes sugar for salt more (not that it has happened a lot of times before, thank you very much). He’s so out of it that one of the employees has to ask, “you okay, boss?”
“Uh—yeah,” Shouyou says, opting to leave out some information, such as the fact that he’s too goddamn horny to work and all he can think about is Tobio fucking him everywhere in the apartment, whether bending him over the dining table or holding him up against the door, without having to be quiet, that he can be loud, that they can be as loud as they want, for an entire week.
Oh god, he’s going to have so much sex, isn’t he?
Shouyou’s toes curl at the realization. A good realization, it appears, as his cock stirs a little in interest. At work! For fuck’s sake!
So, by the end of his shift and the entirety of his break spent in the toilet, Shouyou’s able to kiss Tobio hello without coming in his pants immediately. A real win, if Shouyou’s to admit.
“I have something prepared,” Tobio says. The way his voice is low and husky and dripping with cold winds makes Shouyou’s stomach flip disastrously.
“You do?” Shouyou says, already breathless.
Tobio nods. “I think you’d like it.”
Are they already fore-playing? In front of his own restaurant?
Shouyou doesn’t think he minds. He steps closer into Tobio’s space and tilts his face up, eyes glossed over. “I bet I will.”
Tobio hums and reaches inside his gym bag, pulling out—a volleyball?
Certainly this isn’t the kind of balls Shouyou expects to see or play with tonight.
“What—what’re we doing again?” Shouyou asks weakly. He sounds like he just got stabbed in the guts and still had to smile and gave Tobio a thumb up for his brilliant idea.
“I asked the school to leave the gym open late tonight,” Tobio says, sounding so flustered and sweet that Shouyou can’t get mad at him, not even for a little. “We can play for as long as we want, or at least until you’re tired of me kicking your ass.”
Shouyou stares at him for a while, long enough for Tobio to grunt and look away. Shouyou snickers. “Oh my god, is this you asking me out on a date, Sappy-yama?”
Tobio hisses, embarrassed. “Do you want me to toss to you or not?”
Shouyou flashes him a feral grin before snatching the ball and bouncing away. “Race you to the gym! Loser buys meat buns!”
“Don’t you dare get a head start, dumbass!”
They stumble back to the apartment when the street’s already been empty of cars and the air is cold enough to make Shouyou’s teeth clatter uncontrollably. The date goes well, he thinks, although everything turns hazy after his third cup of beer.
They play until sweat soaks through their old jerseys and adrenaline rushes through their blood. They drink until Tobio’s neck turn crimson and Shouyou’s reduced down to a blubbering mess. They kiss in a dark alley until they’re both 18 and young and don’t know any better again. Back to the time when they were friends and used alcohol as an excuse to smush lips together and press their bodies close and relieve some of the repressed pinings.
“Tobioooo,” Shouyou drawls, hiccuping and giggling, as he throws himself on Tobio, arms around his neck and face rubbing against his chest.
“You reek.” Tobio grunts and drags him to the bathroom. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up, you old drunkard.”
“Jloubyiosymch.”
“What the fuck are you on?”
Shouyou narrows his eyes to have a better look at the blurry figure in front of him. Words feel funny in his mouth, like they’re made of lead or jelly or something. He curls his tongue a few times before screaming, “I said! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!”
“Alright, geez, you don’t have to shout.”
“BUT IF I DON’T SHOUT THEN HOW CAN YOU KNOW I LOBE YOU SO MUCH?”
“Love.” Tobio corrects with a sigh. “And lower your voice, we don’t want to wake up the entire building.”
“Okay, okay,” Shouyou mumbles, screwing his eyes shut and shushing himself with his pointer against his mouth. A part of him says that he looks like an idiot right now instead of a freaking grown-ass man. But when he opens his eyes, Tobio’s staring at him, a smile on his lips, fond and warm as always. Shouyou feels like he is going to cry. “Tobio?”
Tobio leans down to kiss him, voice soft. “Yeah?”
Shouyou squeezes his cheeks, hiccuping as he says, “you, and Hisa, are the 2 importantest person in my life. I want—I want you both to always—always be happy, okay?”
“Okay, baby. Okay,” Tobio whispers as he pulls Shouyou into a hug. A hug so tight that he thinks if he were to cry into Tobio’s sweater, Tobio wouldn’t notice. “We’re happy as long as you’re here.”
“I’m here, I’m here.” Shouyou nods frantically. “And—and I want Natsu to be happy too, and mum, and Miwa nee-san, and your parents, and Fluff Ball, although—although she scratches me sometimes, but that’s—that’s okay too, because I’m a nice person, and I won’t take it out on our cat, that’s animal cruelty, you know?”
“I know.” Tobio chuckles and hauls Shouyou to the bathroom. “You made everyone happy. Congrats. Now shower time.”
Shouyou nods at Tobio’s voice and somewhat follows him willingly. But as they’re a few steps away from the bathroom, Shouyou stops abruptly and screeches. “Oikawa-san!”
“What’s wrong? What about him?” Tobio asks, startled.
Shouyou grabs his arms, eyes wide and full of worry. “Happy! Oikawa-san have to happy too!”
“You idiot.”
Nothing happened last night, obviously. And if there was a prospect of anything happening, it was quickly killed by Shouyou throwing up on the floor, centimeters away from the toilet, and Tobio grabbing his hair and yelling dumbass into his face.
Despite all the troubles drunk Shouyou put him through, the puking, the screaming, the calling Oikawa-san to tell him to be happy at 3am, Tobio still wakes up early to cook him a romantic breakfast in bed.
So Shouyou would like to do something to return the favor.
Something like letting Tobio bend him over the kitchen countertop and fuck him right there, going hard. Probably the hardest they’ve ever gone. The hardest Shouyou’s ever been fucked. It takes some teasing. Some impish ploys and hands roaming underneath sweater and dick grinding against toned legs. But in the end, Shouyou gets what he wants.
“Tobio, oh my god— oh my god—” Shouyou sobs against the cold marble, his nails scratching against the countertop helplessly, too out of it to know how to hold on. So he lets Tobio have control, lets Tobio use him to get off like a mindless toy. Lets Tobio grip his waist until bruises are formed and drive it home, each thrust toward Shouyou’s sweet spot like he’s a freaking world champion F1 driver or something.
And Shouyou can’t do anything. He just has to lay there and take it.
“—yes yes, right there—so good, Tobio, you’re so good,” Shouyou moans quietly, his lips pressed against the countertop, drool smearing on the cold surface.
Tobio stops for a second. But before Shouyou gets the chance to catch his breath, he grabs a handful of the red curls and pulls it back, hard, titling Shouyou’s face to the wall. Thrusts resuming at a brutal pace, he grinds out in Shouyou’s ears. “Louder. Tell me how good I make you feel.”
The command sends shivers down his throat. Shouyou attempts to blink away the fullness inside him, the pre-cum leaking from his cock, the heat swirling low and heavy in his stomach. Still, a tear slips out and rolls down to his cheek as he tries to speak, mouth open and tongue unconsciously pushing out. “You’re going to make me come—gonna come. Meu deus—fuck, amor, eu tô perto!”
“Shou.” Tobio’s breath becomes laborious. He hisses, slowing down. “Don’t!”
“What’s wrong?” Shouyou turns around, pupils dilated and confused. “What did I do?”
Tobio grimaces in that illegally beautiful, sex-filled face of his, and licks droplets of sweat off his lips. “You can’t—you can’t speak Portuguese when we’re fucking!”
“What?” Shouyou snorts. But the laugh makes his hole clench unconsciously. And Tobio’s fucking him hard again, wiping away whatever humor is left on his face. “Why—why not? Oh there, yes! You have a language kink—or something?”
“I’m not. It’s just—fuck—hot in general.”
“That’s stupid!”
“Oh yeah?” Tobio leans down and whispers against Shouyou’s ear. “Manicotti parmigiano, cavatelli alla crema, gabbriello ravioli—”
“Okay. Okay.” Shouyou cuts him off before he comes untouched just because Kageyama fucking Tobio whispers some Italian words into his ear with that husky voice, so much more fluent now. It dips low, richer and more intoxicating than any alcohol could compare. “I get it. Languages are hot. So stop it.” He cries out.
Tobio scoffs, still, he eases up the pace so Shouyou won’t be overwhelmed. “You were literally about to bust a nut when I read out a freaking menu.”
“Fuck me, fuck me,” Shouyou whines again, because the steady speed is not working for him anymore. He needs Tobio to be fast. He needs him to be hard. He needs him to take him apart wholly and completely. “Meu amor, por favor—”
“You’re an idiot.” Tobio grumbles, but he obeys. To every fucking word.
“Can you—”
“What?”
“Can you,” Shouyou swallows, face red for the first time. “Call me an idiot but in Italian?”
And Tobio does, among many other filthy names that make Shouyou's climax hit faster and harder than ever.
Some days are slow. And by slow, Shouyou means that there’re days when Tobio prefers to take him slow, letting the heat throb languidly, making Shouyou constantly slip between the state of losing his mind and burning up with need. It starts with some takeouts and an old volleyball match on the TV, but along the line of a warm living room and a cozy sofa and an unprompted heated make-out session, things quickly escalate to another realm of pleasure.
Their limbs tangle on the cushion, sinking deep into the green cotton that Shouyou picked out from IKEA. With Tobio behind him, face in the crook of Shouyou’s neck and one palm slips under his thigh, holding it up for easier access. Tobio’s other hand winds around Shouyou’s torso to play with his nipples, making Shouyou writhe and bite his lower lip in white-out bliss.
They move together, hips fluid and slow under the blanket, low moans slipping out along the bland commentary from the game. It feels like they’ve been going at it for hours, years, but somehow, Shouyou’s not satisfied yet, nor does he think he can ever be satisfied. He feels like an addict, and he’s loving every second of it. “Tobi—Tobio! Oh god, Tobio—”
“Yeah?” Tobio mumbles between the kisses on Shouyou’s neck. “You like this?”
Shouyou nods jerkily. His hand stumbles back to tug at Tobio’s hair and press him deeper into his neck, anchoring him there. His face tilts up, mouth open and panting, wanting. “I love it—I love you. So close, baby, I’m so—”
Shouyou stops dead in his track. A pair of blue eyes stare up at him in innocence.
“What’s wrong?” Tobio opens his eyes and says, voice scratchy as if he was just knocked out of sleep.
Shouyou points to the floor. Right near the sofa, their cat’s looking at them. “Fluff Ball.”
“So?”
“So?” Shouyou parrots his unbothered voice in shock. “We can’t do this in front of her! She is—we can’t flash our dicks to innocent animals, Pervy-yama! They’ll get PTSDick or some shit.”
“We have a blanket, you’re not flashing your dick to anyone.” Tobio grumbles. Though he does slow down, but in a way that he wants to tease Shouyou rather than listen to him.
In a way that his fingertips trace along the dip of Shouyou’s sweaty hips, the soft plane of his tanned torso, the Adam's apple bobbing on his throat. In a way that he leaves soft, tantalizing kisses along Shouyou’s jawline between low rumbles. “You really want me to stop?”
Shouyou looks at Tobio, then Fluff Ball. Then Tobio. Then Fluff Ball. He contemplates, hard, before turning to his smug boyfriend. “Fuck me.”
Tobio hums. Like a brat. “You did say that we can’t fuck in front of innocent animals.”
“Please, meu amor, need you.”
“I don’t know, Shou, PTSDick sounds pretty serious. We should make some ground ru—”
“Please—”
“—some ground rules on where we can—”
“Fuck you!” Shouyou’s patience completely dries out at Tobio’s teasing tone. He flips Tobio to his back and sits on him, riding Tobio with arrogance like Tobio’s dick is his throne. Shouyou takes pride in having control, in pining Tobio’s wrist down on the cushion, in rendering him immobile, unable to do anything except letting Shouyou use his cock.
He smirks at Tobio’s confused expression and bounces hard, a relentless speed that contradicts the sleepy rhythm from before. His voice sinks deep in the slap of skin. “Who’s the Daddy now, huh?”
And that does the trick. Shouyou’s never seen Tobio come faster.
“Papa!” Hisa squeals and throws herself in Shouyou’s arm as soon as the bell rings. With a laugh, he picks her up and spins her around before squeezing her in his chest, dropping kisses on her sweaty forehead. Hisa settles in his arm and clutches onto his shirt collar, eyes glinting because of excitement. “You were so cool up there!”
“Was I?” Shouyou asks while pushing her damp fringe back and using his sleeves to wipe off the sweat.
“Yeah yeah!” Hisa nods with her whole body. “I like it when you said you played volleyball with dad at the Olympics and Japan won the gold medal because of you! I bet—I bet you two were all GWAH and WOOSH and then BAM, flowers and fireworks everywhere! Tooru-san even told me that you two were ki—kissing!” She puckers her lips. “Is it true? You and daddy kissed in front of everyone? Is it true? I wanna know, I wanna know—”
“Calm down, sweetie,” Shouyou says, pinching her round, cheery cheeks. Somehow, he starts regretting coming to the kindergarten for an impromptu ‘show and tell’ session, most likely because Suga-san forgets to prepare his lesson plan, again. “You need to spend less time with your Tooru-san. He’s a bad influence on you.”
“It’s okay!” Hisa pulls Shouyou down and whispers. “You can kiss daddy, and me. You can kiss me too.”
“Oh? Then as you wish, my princess.” Shouyou imitates the prince’s voice in a cartoon that they’ve been watching on TV and plants kisses all over Hisa’s face, making her squirm and sink her head down to her neck with a fit of giggles. “Wanna go home to daddy now?”
“Yes!” Hisa grins, then she’s pulling at Shouyou’s cheeks. “Can you bring your volleyball to class next time?”
“Why?”
“So you can play volleyball in front of everyone!” Hisa exclaims, hands flailing animatedly. “You can do the flying thingy like last time when dad threw the ball to you. Oh, and daddy should come too! And then the whole class will see how cool my dads really are!”
“Alright, little miss, don’t get ahead of yourself now.” Shouyou laughs and puts her down. “Let’s go home, can you go get your bag for me?”
“I can!” Hisa says and sprints to her desk, and Shouyou watches as she puts all the books neatly inside her bag.
“She loves you a lot.” A voice says ominously from behind.
“Jesus chri—” Shouyou almost twists his back when he turns around, a palm flying to his chest. “Can any of you warn a guy before scaring me to death?”
Suga-san hums as he scrutinizes Shouyou, eyes narrow and all-knowing. “What’s wrong?” Shouyou mutters, suddenly conscious of himself.
“You look—”
Radiant? Glowing? Well, Shouyou supposes that’s fair. Especially with the little exercise to keep the blood flowing Tobio and he did this morning. They almost never do it in the morning, with preparing Hisa for class and all. But as Shouyou watched Tobio getting ready for work from the bed, watched how he slicked his hair back in front of the mirror and how he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, could anyone blame him if he did go down on Tobio though?
“—disgusting.” Suga-san finishes with a shudder. “Like someone who just got out of a fuck fest. Just your whole gay vibe right now is making me wanna barf.”
“Suga-san!” Shouyou exclaims. “You’re teaching a bunch of kids. Language, please!”
“That doesn’t make any of what I said less true.” Suga-san shrugs. “So what? I suppose that things are going well between you two?”
Shouyou hums in agreement, though “well” might be an understatement. “Yeah, we alright.”
“Good. And for fuck’s sake and Hisa’s sake, please refrain from acting like idiots again.”
Heat creeps up onto Shouyou’s neck. He mumbles. “Yeah, sorry, won’t happen again.”
“I’m ready!” Hisa runs to them and gives Shouyou her backpack. She turns to Suga-san with a bow. “Bye bye Suga-san. See you and Tooru-san tomorrow!”
Suga-san nods. And just when he’s about to bid Hisa goodbye, a voice from behind Hisa cuts him off. “Why don’t your dad pick you up, Hisa?” A little boy asks, hands on his hips.
Hisa turns to the boy with a grimace, she inches closer to Shouyou and hugs his leg, voice small. “This is my dad.”
“No! Stop lying! I saw your dad before, he looks different!”
“This is my other dad!”
“Other dad?” The boy exclaims. “You have two dads and no mama? That’s wei—”
“Alright, that’s enough, Aoki.” Suga-san interrupts with a stern voice. He walks to the boy who’s still staring at them defiantly and tells Shouyou, “take Hisa home first, I’ll talk to his parents later.”
“Oh, uh—yeah,” Shouyou says, quietly, his eyes still a little lost when he picks Hisa up. As soon as he settles her in his arms, she winds her limbs around Shouyou like a koala, face in the crook of his neck. He pats her back gently. “Thanks, Suga-san. We’ll head out now.”
Suga-san waves them goodbye without looking, too busy saying something to the boy.
“I don’t like him,” Hisa says suddenly, breaking the silence of their walk home. There aren’t many people on the street, so Shouyou can hear clearly the pout in her voice as she buries her face deeper into his neck. “He always pulls my braids and calls me mean things.”
“Oh, honey.” Shouyou sighs, tightening his arms around her and kissing her soft hair. “Let’s talk to Suga-san about it soon, okay? Daddy can also be there if you want him to.”
Hisa stays quiet for a moment, then she nods again his skin. “Can we just tell Suga-san about Aoki but not Yui?”
Shouyou stops the self-berating voice in his head. He knows blaming it on his head won’t be of any use now, not when Hisa needs him to be her anchor. So he sucks in a deep breath and gathers himself, forcing his voice to be light and cheery as always. “Who’s Yui?”
“My best friend! She’s very pretty and uh—have pretty hair like you,” Hisa says and pulls back to look at him, her hands carding in his curls, smiling, now. Hisa’s always been a strong kid, Shouyou knows, barely ever cries, except for that one time when she thought Tobio and him were fighting.
“Whenever Aoki is mean to me, Yui always protects me. She hits him like this!” Hisa imitates by giving the air light punches, her scrunched-up face and tiny fist hovering make Shouyou chuckle. “And then he’ll cry really loud. So funny! But we can’t tell Suga-san about it because Yui will get into a lot of trouble. Yui said it’s fine but I know she’s lying. Her dad is so scary!”
“Okay, I promise I won’t tell Suga-san about Yui.” Shouyou smiles. “But can I meet her next time?”
“You can! I want her to meet daddy and Fluff Ball too!” Hisa says wishfully and lays her head on Shouyou’s shoulder. “She said I’m the coolest.”
“Did she now?”
“Yeah!” Hisa jerks back up and grins at Shouyou. “Because I have two coolest dads in the world! That’s way more than anyone in my class,” she says, cupping his cheeks with the most serious expression he’s ever seen. “I don’t need a mama, I just need you and daddy.”
Shouyou wants to laugh, to yell and scream to the whole world in pride. How stupid of him to think that he has to be Hisa’s anchor, while in fact, she’s the most precious anchor he can ever find. Grounding him down to Earth. Pulling him back when he seems lost. That’s right. This is their daughter he’s talking about.
“Me too, I just need you and daddy,” Shouyou says, nudging their noses together. “Just the three of us.”
“Just the three of us!” Hisa giggles, as clear and bright as the blue sky above. “Daddy, papa, and Hisa, we’re the best family ever!”
Tobio stirs as Shouyou swipes away a few strands of black hair on his face. “Sorry, did I wake you?” Shouyou whispers, and Tobio shakes his head before leaning in to Shouyou’s touches.
God, he looks so good like this—all soft mouth and puffy cheeks, so relaxed and unguarded that Shouyou doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore. Doesn’t know what to do with this fuzzy and aching love that he’d spent all his youth on Tobio, and now spending the rest of his life on them, their daughter, their home.
It’s a good feeling, Shouyou thinks, to be able to feel late at night under the warm yellow light of their living room.
“Did I fall asleep?” Tobio’s groggy mumble cuts off Shouyou’s sentiment. He tries to move a little, but soon realizes that there’s another little human sleeping on his chest, mouth open with drool smearing all over his shirt. “She’s sleeping too?”
“Mm, food coma,” Shouyou hums, running his hand through Tobio’s hair. “Tired today?”
Tobio nods, eyes closed, as he tilts his head aside on the sofa’s backrest so Shouyou’s palm can have access to the rest of his hair. “Staff meeting. And the boys were fighting. Loud,” he says and pats Hisa’s back. Though Tobio’s keeping his voice low so he doesn’t wake their daughter, Shouyou can still hear the pout in his tone.
“Fighting?” Shouyou giggles. “Like us before?”
“We didn’t fight. I was trying to reason and you were ignoring me and being a little shit.”
“You literally threw me across the gym and then we got punched by Tanaka-san. How is you yeeting me turning into reason now?”
“It’s Tanaka-san.” Tobio tuts. “And didn’t I just say that you were being a little shit? You kept clinging onto me so I had to like—snap you out of it. You should be thanking me instead.”
“Your logic is still weird as fuck.” Shouyou snorts. “Don’t know why I’m with a caveman like you.”
Tobio snaps his eyes open and glares at him, voice louder. “So what? You need to be punched some sense into you again?”
“Quiet now. You will wake her up and then I will have to read the Ugly Duckling 10 times to get her to sleep again.”
Tobio mumbles something like you’re a dumbass under his breath, but he doesn’t argue or move further, simply closing his eyes again and patting Hisa’s back softly. So Shouyou inches closer and rests his head on Tobio’s shoulder, arm wrapping around both his partner and their daughter. They stay silent for a few minutes like this, until their breaths are slow and even, until drowsiness and contentment fully sink in their bodies.
“Did something happen at school today?” Tobio asks, breaking the silence.
Shouyou nuzzles closer to the crook of Tobio’s neck with a mutter. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, you two seem—clingier than usual.”
“It’s because we love you, Tobio.” Shouyou smiles against his skin.
“Yeah, right.”
Another stretch of comfortable silence, until Shouyou feels an arm snaking around his waist, patting his back rhythmically like the hand on Hisa’s side. So warm and reassuring that Shouyou doesn’t think anything else matters anymore.
“Nothing, just missed you,” Shouyou says, with the honesty of a person who’s spent half of his years loving Tobio and the other half missing him. “You should come next time too, Hisa said she wanna show her friends how cool both of her dads are.”
“Both of her dads?” Tobio hums, there’s a playful note in his tone. “I don’t know about that. One is cool alright, the other is kind of dumb.”
“Don’t be an ass!” Shouyou grumbles and bites on Tobio’s shoulder. But Tobio just chuckles lowly in his throat before dropping a kiss on the top of Shouyou’s head, gentle like he has no better things to do other than coddling Shouyou for the rest of his life.
And just like that, Shouyou’s a fool in love again, transported right back to his 16-self who unconsciously scribbled T + S with a heart around it in his notebook, only to rip the page out after realizing he’d been imagining weird things about his best friend. So he crumpled it, hid it in his drawer, and swore on his life to never look at it again. Though he thought about him every minute. Loving him every second.
And he still does now. 20 years later and he still doesn’t know any better.
“Is it hard?” Shouyou whispers unknowingly. “Raising her by yourself in Italy?”
“It’s alright.” Tobio takes a moment to answer. “The Ali helped me a lot. Leoni-san has a kid so he showed me how to do a lot of stuff, like how to coax her into eating or calm her down when she made a fuss about not wanting to shower. Other members were supportive too. They looked after her when I was busy.”
“That’s good,” Shouyou says. He doesn’t notice the way his voice cracks. “I’m glad you had them.”
“The hard part though,” Tobio continues, hesitant. “Was when I—”
“Was when you what?”
Then, Tobio takes in a breath and presses Shouyou closer to his body, tethering himself to him. “Was when I thought about you when I looked at her. About how it could’ve been us who adopted and raised her together—if it hadn’t been for—if only I wasn’t so much of an idiot—”
Shouyou shakes Tobio’s bruising grip off to look at him. His face pale and his eyes red, guilt blatantly written all over his expression as if he had never been forgiven in the first place. Not by Shouyou, but by himself.
Shouyou winces, cupping his cheeks. “I’m here, I’m here now.”
Tobio closes his eyes and swallows, Adam's apple bobbing rapidly like the pangs striking through Shouyou’s chest every time he inhales.
“It hurt so much, Shouyou,” Tobio continues. “I couldn’t even breathe, and I didn’t know what to do to make things better either. I love her, I do, with all my life. But sometimes, god, sometimes I wish—”
“Tobio,” Shouyou calls, and the sound of his name pulls Tobio back to the yellow light of the living room, to the sound of Shouyou’s whispers right beside him, to the fact that they’re okay now. And Shouyou keeps reminding him that, quiet reassurance of we’re okay and I’m not going anywhere in between the kisses on Tobio’s face.
It takes a while for Tobio to stop crying.
Shouyou wipes away the tear stains on Tobio’s cheeks with his sleeves and chuckles. “God, you’re such a cry baby sometimes.”
“Shut up, dumbass,” Tobio hisses, though his insult has little effect when he hides his face in Shouyou’s shoulder.
“Remember when I left for Brazil? You cried so much at the airport everyone thought I had a terminal illness and was dying or something.”
“Told you to shut up! I didn’t cry, this is—eyeballs sweat!”
“It’s the middle of winter, Tobio.”
“I’m hot!” Tobio says, indignant.
“Yeah, you are,” Shouyou snorts, Tobio shoves him away.
And the movement might be a tad too harsh, because Hisa starts to squirm on Tobio's chest with a mumble, “daddy.”
“See? You woke her up, Bakageyama!” Shouyou says, decidedly ignoring Tobio’s eyes roll to lift Hisa off Tobio’s chest and settle her in his arms. “We don’t wanna have daddy’s snots all over you too, yeah?”
“You’re so dumb,” Tobio tuts.
But Hisa doesn’t stir any further, comfortable in Shouyou's chest. A smile curls up on her lips, she must be having a sweet dream. “Papa,” she hums before drifting off to sleep again.
And Shouyou knows there and then, with Tobio by his side, with Hisa in his arms, with his heart falling back to an easy and comfortable rhythm, that he’s finally home.