Chapter Text
Brazil, a bustling beachside promenade under the warm evening sky, alive with music, laughter, and the aroma of grilled street food.
Oikawa Tooru had always prided himself on being the center of attention, whether it was on the volleyball court or just walking into a room. Tonight was no exception. The shimmering lights from the restaurants lining the beach seemed to spotlight his every move as he strolled alongside Hinata Shoyo, who, as usual, exuded energy like a child let loose in a candy store.
“Hinata,” Oikawa began, his tone dripping with mischief, “did you know that Brazilians are some of the best dancers in the world?”
Hinata turned to him, eyes wide with curiosity. “Really? Like… better than volleyball players?”
“Obviously,” Oikawa replied, flipping his hair with a dramatic flourish. “But lucky for you, Shoyo-kun, you’re with me. And I am an expert at everything.”
Hinata snorted. “Yeah, okay. You’re an expert at showing off, maybe.”
They wandered closer to an open-air restaurant where vibrant samba music spilled out onto the cobblestone street. Couples were dancing near the entrance, their movements so fluid and synchronized that it looked like they were part of the music itself.
Oikawa stopped abruptly, his eyes lighting up as the familiar melody of La Isla Bonita by Madonna started playing. He turned to Hinata, a sly grin spreading across his face.
“Do you hear that, Shoyo?” he said dramatically, pointing toward the restaurant as if unveiling a masterpiece.
"Eh?" Hinata muttered puzzled.
“Shoyo-kun~” Oikawa said, spinning theatrically. His brown eyes sparkled mischievously under the string lights above. “Do you know what that is?”
“Uh, Madonna?” Hinata guessed, scratching the back of his head.
“This,” Oikawa said, resting a hand on his chest as if personally offended by Hinata’s lack of enthusiasm, “is art. And it’s about to be the soundtrack to our most iconic moment.”
Hinata blinked. “Our what now?”
“We’re going to dance,” Oikawa declared, tugging Hinata toward the open space near the music.
Before Hinata could protest, Oikawa grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward the open space near the restaurant’s entrance. The crowd parted slightly, curious to see what the two foreign volleyball players were up to.
“Oikawa-san, I can’t dance!” Hinata hissed, trying to pull away.
“Nonsense,” Oikawa replied breezily, already swaying his hips in time with the music. “Dancing is just like volleyball. It’s all about rhythm and confidence.”
“That’s not how volleyball works!”
As the opening notes of La Isla Bonita filled the warm evening air, Oikawa’s eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. He turned to Hinata, his smirk almost daring.
Oikawa grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer to the crowd forming near the restaurant’s entrance. “You’ll see. Just follow my lead.”
The familiar tune began to build. Oikawa snapped his fingers in time with the beat, his hips already swaying in smooth, hypnotic arcs.
“Last night I dreamt of San Pedro…”
Oikawa extended his arm toward Hinata, beckoning him to join. The crowd, sensing something exciting, began to clap along to the rhythm. Hinata hesitated, his face flushed.
“Oikawa-san, I seriously don’t know how to—”
“Shh!” Oikawa interrupted, sliding a hand to Hinata’s waist and positioning him with ease. His voice dropped, smooth and teasing. “Just feel the music. Don’t overthink it.”
Hinata stiffened but tried to mimic Oikawa’s graceful movements. His attempts were clumsy, his steps a half-second behind.
“The warm wind carried on the sea, he called to me…”
“You’re stiff as a board,” Oikawa teased, his lips curling into a playful smirk. His voice dipped, teasing yet coaxing. “Relax. Trust me.”
Hinata shot him an incredulous look but couldn’t suppress a nervous laugh. “Trust you? You dragged me into this!”
“Exactly,” Oikawa said with a wink. “That’s how you know you’re in good hands.”
“Te dijo te amo…”
As the lyrics flowed, Oikawa spun Hinata abruptly, pulling him back with a little too much flair. Hinata stumbled, his face burning as Oikawa caught him with practiced ease. Their faces were close now—too close.
“You’re terrible at this,” Oikawa whispered, his tone equal parts exasperated and amused.
Hinata huffed, his competitive streak flaring. “I’m not terrible! I just need time!”
“Then keep up.” Oikawa’s grin widened as he led them into another synchronized step, his movements impossibly smooth and confident.
“I prayed that the days would last, they went so fast…”
The music swelled, and Oikawa’s energy shifted. His teasing faded into something more intense. His movements became sharper, his hands guiding Hinata’s body with a precision that forced the smaller player to focus. The tension in the air thickened as the playful tone of their dance turned into something electric.
“Tropical the island breeze…”
Hinata surprised Oikawa by matching his rhythm perfectly, their steps suddenly synchronized. He grinned up at Oikawa, a spark of mischief in his eyes now.
“Not bad for a ‘terrible’ dancer, huh?” Hinata said, his voice breathless but triumphant.
Oikawa’s eyebrows lifted, impressed despite himself. “I’ll admit, you’ve got potential. But don’t get cocky, Shoyo.”
“All of nature wild and free…”
Oikawa’s movements became more fluid, his hips rolling in time with the beat. Hinata mirrored him, though his steps were looser, almost bouncy. The contrast was striking but somehow worked perfectly, their individual styles creating a dynamic, attention-grabbing performance.
“You’re still holding back,” Oikawa said, leaning closer as they spun in unison. His voice dropped, low and challenging. “Show me what you’ve got.”
Hinata’s eyes narrowed. “Fine.”
“This is where I long to be, La Isla Bonita…”
The chorus hit, and Hinata surprised everyone by leaping into the air, his signature volleyball jump turned into an exaggerated dance move. He landed with surprising grace, the crowd erupting in cheers.
Oikawa’s eyes widened, but he quickly recovered, stepping closer with a smirk that screamed, challenge accepted.
“And when the samba played…”
Their bodies moved in sync now, the energy between them almost palpable. Oikawa twirled Hinata again, this time pulling him back with deliberate force. Their faces were inches apart as they locked eyes, both grinning but refusing to back down.
“You’re full of surprises,” Oikawa murmured, his voice low.
“You’re not the only one who can perform,” Hinata shot back, his breath hitching slightly as Oikawa’s grip on his waist tightened for a moment before they separated again.
“The sun would set so high…”
Oikawa led Hinata into a dramatic side-step, their movements completely synchronized now. The crowd’s clapping grew louder, their cheers mixing with the sultry rhythm of the music.
“I’ll admit it,” Oikawa said, his tone dripping with faux magnanimity. “You’re better than I thought.”
Hinata’s grin was wide, his chest heaving as he replied, “Told you I just needed time.”
“Your Spanish lullaby…”
The song swelled toward its climax, and Oikawa decided to go all out. He pulled Hinata into a final spin, dipping him low in an exaggerated flourish as the music reached its final note. Their breathing was heavy, their faces flushed as the crowd erupted in applause.
"See? They love us." Oikawa exclaimed, still slightly panting, yet doing a dramatic bow.
Hinata stared up at Oikawa, still caught in the dramatic dip. “Okay… that was actually kind of fun.”
Oikawa smirked, pulling him back up and straightening his hair. “Kind of fun? Shoyo, we just created art.”
The tension between them lingered, unspoken but undeniable. Whatever it was—competition, camaraderie, or something else—it hummed in the air like the final notes of the music.
And then, with a grin, Oikawa grabbed his phone. “Now, let’s make sure Iwa-chan and Tobio-chan see this masterpiece..........”