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(Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.)
Teams competing at Nationals have separate locker rooms, it only makes sense. Hinata’s been here once before, he knows how it feels. The stress that made his lungs heave in oxygen and exhale what felt like fire slipping past his lips. The slow-moving lava pouring through his veins and setting every nerve alight with tension. He remembers feeling ready to jump or fight or strike or kill he doesn’t know what, but the desire was there and near uncontainable. He remembers jumping when Kageyama put a heavy hand on his back, and anchor right between his shoulder blades, like a lion tamer on the scruff of a particularly wild cub.
Only, Hinata wasn’t a cub anymore. He wasn’t a fledgling shaking off his eggshell and tottering into the wide world with starry-eyed wonder.
Now, the other third-years left him alone. The second-years had seen this before, this Other-Hinata, last year before they went head-to-head with Fukurodani. They had seen him on the brink of full-blown evolution, but now—now was different. The second-years felt it in the way they avoided him, the first-years in the way they stared at him like he had once stared at Ushiwaka or Oikawa or Aone, the third-years in the way they looked over at him every now and then.
Yamaguchi’s eyes flicker to Kageyama, a betrayal of his inner thoughts. Why don’t you go calm Shouyou down? His eyes say. Last year you were able to. Why is your back turned? Hinata smiles, and Hamada, the promising first-year setter, shivers visibly.
Yes, why don’t you try and calm me down, Tobio? It’s only proper for the ace setter to look after the ace spiker, right? Right?
Ace. I’m the ace. I’m the ace and so is he—
“Shouyou,” Kageyama’s tone leaves no room for argument or escape. A king’s speech, if you will. Kageyama turns to look at him, not glancing at Yamaguchi but definitely responding to his anxiety. Kageyama looks Hinata over with scrutiny that would make any other player uncomfortable, but Hinata knew this. They had to understand each other, inside and out, or they wouldn’t play well. They had to be one.
Kageyama scowls. “You’re too fired up. I know you’re thinking about him. Stop it; you’ll burn out all your energy before we even get through the second set.”
“There won’t be a third set, though, so it’s fine,” Hinata replies, cutting as wind past the snow-capped peak of a mountain, delicate as the tinkling of icicles.
Kageyama takes two meaningful steps towards him, grabs the top of Hinata’s head like he used to two years ago, and gives him a firm shake. The feral glow in Hinata’s eyes doesn’t fade. “You’re the best,” Kageyama says. “And with me at your side, you can move mountains. But don’t you dare forget that he is a force of nature on his own, and when Nekoma’s blood is flowing, the head never fails to see through everything.” Kageyama releases him, turning away and snatching his kneepads off the bench. “You are the best. But you know better than anyone else but me that a king can be dethroned.”
I’m not a king, Tobio. I’m not like you were. I’m not going to lose.
“Don’t do anything stupid, Shouyou. We’re going on ahead. Please cool down a little before you join us. Captain?” Kageyama looks to Tsukishima for confirmation.
Tsukishima snorts. “If you think I understand idiot better than you, you’re wrong. Tadashi and I will deal with the kouhai. You’re in charge of that.” Tsukishima meets Hinata’s gaze fearlessly. “We’ll be relying on you, ace. Don’t make us wait too long.”
Hinata nods and Kageyama clucks his tongue, muttering something about ‘animalistic respect’ under his breath.
Hamada, the last to leave, looks like he might hesitate and say something to Hinata, but scurries away when Hinata rolls his shoulders and a nasty crack echoes through the otherwise empty locker room. The tension goes out of the air once Hinata is alone, concentrating itself in a clouded aura around Hinata himself. Yes, if teams were to share a locker room, who’s to say what they would do to each other? The stress before a match put so much pressure on the bonds of a team all on their own. With a rival…disastrous.
Hinata wraps his arms around himself, clutching at the fragile skin and digging into it with his nails, hard enough to leave lingering half-moons, desperate to cling to something. Oh man, three years—three years—of dancing around each other and growing and evolving and learning, and now he was on the other side of that door, on the other side of the net, on the other side of the court, on the other side of the world, almost, and Hinata can’t bear it.
He’s not going to hold out until the third set.
Kageyama helped him to pace himself, taught him his limits, showed him how to conserve his energy. Coach Ukai, how to restrict his movements. Suga, how to hydrate properly. Noya and Tanaka, how to choose the best high-energy food before a match. Yachi, how to soothe aching muscles. All of them had helped Hinata regulate himself and train for this exact moment, but Lev had taught him to want.
He wants to win deeper than he wants to care for his body. He wants to overcome his limits, snap them in half. He wants, fiercely, to throw his weight against him, to claw and bite and break and defeat him, at the cost of anything.
“What’s it like to have a rival?” Hinata had asked Daichi after training camp, having witnessed the trademark bone-crushing handshake between him and Kuroo.
“Oh, you mean Kuroo?” Daichi had replied with a laugh. “Well, I’m not sure if it’s what you’d really call a rivalry—I mean, isn’t the entirety of Nekoma our rivals? But,” he had added, grinning wickedly, “it sure would feel good to wipe that smug look off his face and watch him face plant doing flying falls.”
And the whole way home, Hinata had thought, over and over, I’d really like to bring him down to my level, just once.
(From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.)
Hinata grits his teeth together and smashes his head against a locker with an impressive bang. The pain clears his head a little, gives him a better grip on reality. Calm. Gotta be calm. He breathes out, a dangerous sound of sparks barely contained, the eye of a firestorm.
“Wow, that sounded like it hurt,” Lev says with a whistle, sauntering into his rival team’s locker room like he owned the place.
It occurs faintly to Hinata that Lev shouldn’t be here. He’s the ace; he has a team to look after. They separated teams on opposite sides of the gymnasium for this exact reason—if they were too close together, infringed a little too far on each other’s territory, then the testosterone and the heat goes to the players’ heads. They do stupid things. Lev shouldn’t be here.
Why was he here? Why would he come all this way to see Hinata? Was he nervous? No, of course not; Lev was kin to Hinata—baseless self-confidence and bottomless optimism, complete faith in his own abilities. …Could it be that Lev, too—
Hinata straightens up. Rolls his neck until it cracks satisfyingly, one last time. Turns to Lev.
Hinata allows himself to rake his eyes over Lev’s figure, half wanting to sneer and laugh about the noodle boy he used to know, the other half wanting to burn holes through him. Remember when he was just a skinny beanpole, easily knocked over by Yaku’s kicks? Remember when he wasn’t sinewy and strong, lean and athletic as a wild wolf on the tundra, hunched over in preparation to attack? All he needed was another four centimeters to grow into his limbs, a snake shedding its old, awkward and bumbling skin until it became a predator to be feared by even the most powerful birds of prey.
Hinata raises an eyebrow, feeling a smile or a snarl carve itself into his face. “I see you never quite hit two meters, huh. Disappointing to be so close to success, but failing at the very end. A sensation I’m sure you’ll be familiar with today as well.” He feels a shiver down his spine when Lev’s casually challenging look sharpens, eyes the coldest chips of green Hinata had ever encountered.
“Someone who hasn’t grown at all doesn’t have room to talk,” Lev replies coolly, stepping through the doorway and into Hinata’s territory with the confidence of an alpha predator. “Shame to have evolved so much, but never enough to change the outcome of your loss. It’s like you haven’t changed at all, Shouyou.”
Two can play at that game. Hinata stretches his arms above his head with a yawn of boredom. He catches the way Lev’s eyes dart to the patch of tanned skin as his shirt rides up. Like what you see? Hinata thinks. Too bad, it seems the smaller of the aces has put on more muscle, aw. He leans against the locker, hands crossed behind his head. “Sorry, Lev, but you just aren’t as much of a challenge as other spikers I’ve faced. Bokuto-san’s straight spike and Ushiwaka’s full-power blast of a spike, now those were something to make your jaw drop. But yours…once you get the timing down, it really isn’t much, y’know?”
Lev takes his time approaching Hinata, languid and threatening, until he’s leaning over Hinata, blocking out all the light from the overhead fluorescent bulbs. Good thing Hinata was the sun, then. A little shadow could never eclipse his light. Lev rests an arm against the same locker, tall enough that he doesn’t bump Hinata’s arms over his head. “You sure talk big for someone so small,” Lev says. “Compensating for something?”
Hinata rolls his eyes. “Again with the height jokes? Didn’t you learn anything from Yaku-san?” Hinata reaches one leg behind Lev’s knee and kicks in, not enough to hurt him, but enough to make him stumble, slam his other hand into the locker next to Hinata’s head, and fall closer. “Teasing short people about their height never works out in your favor,” he almost whispers, their breaths mingling and heat making Hinata sweat even when Lev’s gaze still burns cold.
“Really,” Lev says after a moment. “You think this hasn’t worked out in my favor?” His voice has a strange weightiness to it that makes Hinata’s heart race, makes him want to scratch Lev’s eyes out and rip him to shreds. Lev presses his lips to Hinata’s ear, each syllable a distinct tremor running through his body. “I could tear you apart.”
(There’s a line here, Hinata thinks. He’s not sure whether or not it should be crossed, especially not when Lev is this close, clogging his mind with violence and heat, burning out every scrap of sense and rationality that was holding him together. But rationality was something he usually left to Kageyama, and Kageyama wasn’t here now, was he? They were two crowded predators, pacing in their cages and finally let into the ring to kill each other.)
(But if it had to perish twice,)
Lev catches the lobe of Hinata’s ear between his teeth and bites, just on the side of more pain than pleasure. Hinata gasps, immediately arching into and shoving away Lev, snarling when his hands meet solid muscle, not budging. Lev soothes the bite by sucking at it, running his tongue over the injury to cool the redness. “Down boy,” he huffs, laughing. Almost patronizing.
Hinata arches his back once more, enough to trap Lev’s leg between his thighs while also grabbing a fistful of his shirt and yanking him forward. Hinata, already half-hard from the energy between them, grinds hard against Lev’s thigh while sinking his teeth into the delicate curve from Lev’s neck to his shoulder mercilessly.
The sound Lev makes, a mix between a whine and a yell, will haunt Hinata for weeks. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to play with fire?” Hinata hisses, releasing him, but before Lev can reply, he’s back nipping and sucking at the gap between shirt collar and neck, practically pulling the skin off his body and abusing it until the mark is big enough for even the tiny libero on Nekoma’s team to see. He licks the mark once and tastes something distinctly iron-like.
“Fuck, Shouyou that hurts!” Lev growls, trying to pull out of range of his rival’s teeth, but Hinata locks him in place with his leg, strong enough to match Lev.
“Please,” Hinata snorts. “Surely there’s more to Haiba Lev than fleeing at the first sign of danger.” He leans forward, skimming his teeth over Lev’s collarbone teasingly. He keeps his eyes on Lev, who finally looks nervous, and then Hinata reaches his other hand between them to run a finger up the matching hardness in Lev’s shorts. Lev’s breath hitches, gaze going out of focus for a moment, and Hinata grins. “You sure you want to run?”
Lev snaps back to attention, shoving Hinata back but only so he can sweep his wrists into one hand (one massive hand, Hinata notes, watching Lev’s palm swallow the thinness of his wrists like it was nothing) and raise them above Hinata’s head. His leg changes from captured to pinning Hinata against the locker, helpless and panting, head thrown back and eyes blown wide. Lev pulls his shirt collar back into place with a scowl, and Hinata fantasizes what it would be like to have that hand on him, long fingers and a broad palm—
Lev wastes no time grinding the heel of his palm against Hinata’s dick, hard enough to make him spasm violently in Lev’s hold, a choked shout escaping his lips at the shock. Lev doesn’t stop, either—he reaches beneath Hinata’s shorts to bare skin without any hesitation, engulfing Hinata almost entirely with his hand, flicking his thumb over the head like it’s no big deal. Hinata bites his tongue fast enough to keep a full-blown whine to escape, and Lev shoots him an amused look. Lev moves achingly slow despite his eagerness, and Hinata’s toes curl in his sneakers, bouncing a little in place as if that would make Lev move faster.
“Bet you’re regretting that mark now, huh?” Lev laughs. “It’s only fair that we match.” He leans in towards Hinata’s neck. Hinata pulls away instinctively, and Lev releases his hand around Hinata’s dick immediately in response. Hinata sobs at the loss of touch, turning to look at Lev with an expression of such desperation and unrestrained want that almost breaks Lev’s composure and makes him give in to Hinata, but he holds steady, swallowing hard. “You’re gonna be a good boy now, aren’t you?” He murmurs, low and smooth. “You’re gonna do as I tell you.”
Hinata’s eyelashes flutter prettily and then he leans back, exposing his neck and trembling so hard Lev can see his fingers shake. He’s biting his lip though, defiance still lingering in sharp eyes, but he looks up at the ceiling and swallows his pride, and that is a victory. Lev brushes his lips over Hinata’s skin, pleased with the light dust of freckles on the corner of Hinata’s shoulders and the thrum of his heart right beneath his skin. He runs his nose along the column of Hinata’s neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and something like ash and an open forest that is Hinata. Lev nudges Hinata’s head all the way back in full submission, putting his mouth on Hinata’s Adam’s apple as he swallows in nervousness or anger, Lev doesn’t care.
“Good,” he murmurs, and then touches Hinata again, rougher and faster in his movements as he latches onto the side of Hinata’s neck and Hinata practically howls, the sound dying out as he realizes other people might be around. Lev doesn’t care. Doesn’t care if his teammates come in to look for him, doesn’t care if Hinata’s teammates come to look for him. So what if they see? They can watch Lev take Hinata apart piece by piece while he keeps gasping and writhing like a champ.
Maybe Hinata realizes this, too, because there’s a moment where he stills enough to make Lev pause, and then his legs fall farther apart, back pressing up against the cool metal of the locker instead of fighting Lev, and he’s fearlessly loud when Lev touches him again. Hinata’s going fast, and Lev’s not faring much better, now that Hinata has given into him, the excitement of being found out pooling low in their stomachs. Hinata’s hips jerk slightly, a warning of how close he is, and then it occurs to Lev that it’s actually not all that fun to win when his rival has given in.
He lets go of Hinata fully, pushing back from him and grinning down at Hinata’s shaken form, eyes wide in disbelief. His mouth is hanging open, a line of saliva running down his chin from Lev’s efforts. “Well!” Lev says cheerfully. “Good to know I’m good at that, I guess. But I gotta go, team’ll be looking for me. As the ace I’ve got to take care of them, y’know.” He winks at Hinata and spins on his heel, satisfaction humming through his veins like a fat cat that had found a sunny spot to curl up in.
(I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice)
“Oh, hell no,” Hinata growls, a fury deeper than any Lev had ever heard. He snaps a hand out, grabbing Lev’s wrist and yanking him backwards with a surprising show of strength. But Lev isn’t just yanked back, he’s yanked down, hard enough that he loses his footing and falls on his ass, wincing at the rough tumble, but before he can recover, Hinata is on him. Hinata sits dead center on his chest, pulling at Lev’s shirt again, but this time so he can get at Lev’s mouth, ruthless.
There’s no softness in the kiss, probably because Lev foolishly decided pissing off Hinata was a good idea. Hinata tugs at Lev’s lower lip sharply enough to get him to protest, but before he can get a word out, Hinata’s tongue is in his mouth, sweeping across the roof of his mouth and far enough in that Hinata has to tilt his head so their noses don’t slam together. Lev shudders, dick reminding him that yes, actually he is really, really turned on by Hinata, and given that Hinata is right here, he should probably do something about it.
Hinata feels when the shock wears off and Lev returns the kiss, tilting in kind to allow Hinata to have his way with him. Lev’s hands are on Hinata’s ass faster than he can stop him as Lev sits up, and Hinata claws his way under Lev’s shirt so that he can scratch hard lines into Lev’s skin, feel the muscle underneath stretch and relax. Hinata smirks into Lev’s mouth. Given that he was even paler than Suga, those marks would be visible for quite a while—maybe even until the end of the match.
Lev twists their tongues together and Hinata practically sighs at how good it feels, overwhelmingly glad that they finally snapped because the tension had been killing him—
“I want to try something,” Lev pants, completely out of breath. Hinata lets go of him at Lev’s prompting, but Lev doesn’t really let go of him, hoisting Hinata up (by his ass, of all things) and Hinata wraps his legs around Lev’s waist, something clicking inside him when his ankles cross. Lev carries him back to the fucking locker and the moment Hinata’s back is on the metal he’s back to kissing Lev, hands in his hair this time, massaging his scalp and tugging at his hair to get Lev to move like he wants, getting a pleasured hum in response. Lev’s hands knead Hinata’s ass and they’re both forced to break from each other frequently just to moan softly or catch their breath.
Hinata pecks at Lev’s lips desperately, feeling an emotion rising in his chest, a desperation to say something, to express just a little bit what this fucked-up relationship meant to him when the loudspeaker crackles to life, announcing that Hinata Shouyou and Haiba Lev were to report to warm-ups immediately in Ukai Keishin’s no-nonsense tone of voice that had developed into something like his grandfather’s after three years of putting up with Karasuno’s antics. Hinata and Lev freeze.
“Ah,” Lev says.
“We do have a match…” Hinata realizes, coming out of his lustful trance. “We should, uh, probably go back to that.”
“It’s—it’s Nationals, Shouyou,” Lev adds, sounding profoundly embarrassed.
“Yeah,” Hinata squeaks, “I know.”
Lev lets Hinata down with a gentleness he rarely ever showed, let alone directed at Hinata. “You good?” He asks sincerely, hands still on Hinata’s hips.
“Um,” Hinata replies, looking down to find that his hands were still wrapped around Lev’s forearms. They’re both red and unable to meet each other’s eyes. Hinata feels like a schoolboy with a crush, which is stupid because Lev is his rival and yet…
“W-well…I’ll see you in like two minutes?” Lev says, then immediately feels foolish. “Er…”
Hinata laughs. It’s bright and relieved and just a tad embarrassed. Lev feels his smile return at the sound. “Yeah, you will. No hard feelings when you lose, right?”
“You can treat me to dinner when I win,” Lev returns, automatically.
Hinata’s eyes sparkle. “I eat a lot; you sure you want to pay for all that?”
“Maybe I do,” Lev replies with a raised eyebrow.
When Hinata finally runs through to the other side of the door, onto the court of his dreams, greeted by various grumblings of ‘where were you?’ and even more stares at the marks on his neck, Hinata finds that he can’t imagine losing when he’s already won.
(Is also great
And would suffice.)