Chapter Text
It was just a practice match at a rival school, but Yamaguchi played his hardest during the rotations that he was subbed in for. His shoulders, thighs, and calves were all killing him, but not as badly as the regulars on the team, he was sure. Tsukishima played more than Yamaguchi did, of course, and as a middle blocker, spent much of the game jumping around. A funny position to play for someone normally so lazy.
Even so, Yamaguchi took a bench in the locker room of the rival school and tugged his shirt off while Tsukishima was still able to stand.
“Yeesh, that was too close,” Yamaguchi complained.
“But we still won,” Tsukishima reminded him, kicking his volleyball shorts down his legs.
Yamaguchi rolled his neck, pausing when the rotation left his eyes directly facing Tsukishima’s backside. The hem of his t-shirt barely grazed the top of the curve of his ass. Yamaguchi felt his eyes zone in on it. Tsukishima was so skinny, but all the jumping and volleyballing of their first year of high school had done something rather unfair to the muscles of his lower body. Why were his legs so spindly and steady all at once? How could his butt be still so small, yet so perky and round and squeezable at the same time?
“Hell yeah!” Hinata cheered, jarring Yamaguchi from the view in front of him and jumping into the air, as if they hadn’t just played three sets. Hinata’s own shorts became tangled around his ankles and he fell face first onto the floor. Kageyama picked him up like a wet paper towel and started yelling at him to watch what he was doing. The new first years were not used to their relationship dynamic and all stiffly looked away from the ensuing argument as they continued changing. It wouldn’t be long before captain Ennoshita yelled to shut the two of them up anyway.
Tsukishima rummaged in his bag, bent at the waist now, unintentionally leaning his backside even closer to Yamaguchi, who suddenly found himself with a face full of Tsukishima after turning back around. Locker rooms were usually not an issue. But this was a little bit too direct, too close, too tantalizing. Yamaguchi tried to shake the urges from his head, clamping his eyes shut. When he opened them again, Tsukishima had mercifully stood back up, now pulling his shirt over his head.
Oh, so it wasn’t just Tsukishima’s quads and glutes that had developed over the last year, his shoulders were somehow broader. His back looked so vast. Still impossibly thin, of course, his hip bones jutting out over the top of his boxer-brief waistband at sharp angles, but there was just more of him now.
Before Yamaguchi could even register what was happening, he felt the fabric of Tsukishima’s underwear on his lips and a bit of cloth-covered meat clamped between his teeth. He heard Tsukishima gasp underneath the shirt that was still half-on, half-off.
Yamaguchi snapped back before anyone could notice that he had just bitten his best friend on the ass and started to pull his own shirt back on over his head.
“Yamaguchi?” he heard Tsukishima ask in a scolding, yet curious, tone.
Yamaguchi tugged the shirt over his head, freeing his eyes to see what kind of expression Tsukishima might be making. He figured he couldn’t hide in his shirt forever.
With his own shirt gone and balled up in his fists, Tsukishima was on display for anyone who cared to look, and what a sight he was. A bright pink wash of color was spreading from his chest up to his face, which was contorted into a surprisingly shy expression.
Yamaguchi felt a smirk teasing at his lips in spite of himself. He was confident that he must look incredibly goofy. Embarrassed and yet pleased all at once. He made Tsukishima blush. That felt pretty good. “What’s the matter?” he asked, his voice high and jittery, knowing exactly the answer, but intrigued to see what Tsukishima would say.
“Uh, nothing,” Tsukishima said, looking away. He dropped his sweaty shirt and pulled on a clean one, then stepped into a pair of jeans.
Yamaguchi likewise stood up and pulled on a pair of clean sweat pants. He dusted himself off, still grinning like a fool.
He turned around to exit the locker room, following behind the horde of boys known as the Karasuno High School boy’s Volleyball club, when suddenly he felt a hot puff of air by his ear.
“So we bite like teething toddlers now?” a voice said in a low whisper, breath fanning out over Yamaguchi’s neck before a set of teeth clamped down on it. Tsukishima released the bite too quickly. “There, we’re even now,” he said.
Yamaguchi was frozen on the spot and watched as Tsukishima strolled ahead of him.
Tsukishima turned around and cocked an eyebrow. “Are you coming?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Yamaguchi said, taking a few big strides to catch up.
Tsukishima snorted as he pushed through the locker room door and into the hallway. “Next time you decide you want a piece of me, just give me a head’s up,” he said in a low voice. “And maybe not in front of the entire team?”
“Next time?” Yamaguchi heard himself croak out.
Tsukishima adjusted his glasses before casting Yamaguchi his own cocky little smirk. “Next time.”