Chapter Text
“What do you mean, we have a new player?”
This wasn’t the news Tobio had expected, when the coach had called them over and said he had an announcement. He’d hoped it was about developing a new defense technique, or at the very least, some way of improving their slow-as-hell quick attacks.
A new player? Tobio didn’t want anyone new. He’d barely gotten used to working with the players already on the team. After two years, he'd whipped everyone into shape, except Suna, because Suna hated him. That was fine, Tobio had never been on a team where everyone liked him.
In fact, he’d never been on a team where anyone liked him.
That was part of it, he figured. Part of knowing they could all be better, if they just tried a little harder. Why was he to blame that his default was one hundred percent effort, one hundred percent of the time? Why weren’t the rest of them to blame, for slacking off?
Bokuto was literally bouncing on his feet. “I’m so excited he’s back.” That was nothing new. The Alpha was excited every day. Tobio was thankful that practices and games required patches. He could barely tolerate Bokuto’s scent when it was muted. Excited and set free? Tobio would probably be knocked out cold. “Before he left for Brazil five years ago, we played against each other in high school, and we’re basically best friends, we used to—”
“He didn’t ask for your backstory,” Sakusa deadpanned. Tobio could hug him for cutting Bokuto off before he really got going. But since Sakusa didn’t like hugs, or touch of any kind, he didn’t.
Sakusa was his closest friend on the team, the only other big, strong, “non-traditional” Omega Tobio had ever met. And just like Tobio, the scowl on Sakusa’s face made his feelings about being a big, strong, “non-traditional” Omega perfectly clear.
When Tobio had presented back in middle school, he’d already been the tallest in his class. No one was more surprised than him, except maybe his parents, who couldn’t hide their disappointment. They’d already married off his Beta sister. Tobio was supposed to be the scion of the Kageyama Corporation. An Omega heir? Not in their world. A world of power, money, and respect. For Alphas, that was.
Aran folded his arms, and put on his best captain voice. “It doesn’t matter who he is, we all need t’get along.” Aran was one of the few Alphas Tobio respected. He wasn’t a knothead ruled by his secondary gender. He was calm in the face of battle, an even keel, his equilibrium hard-earned from years growing up with the Miya twins. Tobio had only ever faced Atsumu across the net, and he was a pain in the ass on his own. He couldn’t imagine having to deal with two of them.
Aran’s polar opposite on the team was their mischievous jelly-bean-eyebrowed libero. “What do you mean, ‘we all need to get along?’” Motoya asked, throwing an arm around Sakusa, who shrugged it off and sent an ocular laser beam his way, as if his aunt wouldn’t kill him for murdering her son. “Aren’t we all friends here?”
Tobio let out an audible snort. Friends? What was the point? He didn’t need friends to play volleyball. He only needed teammates who played at his level, and since he couldn’t have that, he at least wanted teammates trying their best to get there. Who needed to mix friendship and volleyball? It was more important to focus on the game than on going out for ramen, studying for midterms, or drinking at parties with friends.
Before Suna had a chance to throw in his presumably sarcastic take on the whole thing, Coach Sato opened the gym door, and the new player was right behind him.
He was short.
How was this guy their new opposite? How the hell was a kid who only came up to Tobio’s shoulder supposed to attack, for fuck’s sake?
Coach cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention, like they weren’t all standing in a semicircle of silence. “Hey everyone, this is Hinata Shouyou.”
The guy wasn’t just little, he had ridiculous orange hair, like some sort of cartoon character. His bright eyes and easy smile made him look even more moronic. Hinata gave them all a quick bow. “Pleased to meet you!” he nearly yelled. “Looking forward to playing some volleyball!” Tobio didn’t return his dumbass grin. And as Hinata looked around at all of them, his eyebrows lifted in a question, as if to say, “what’s your problem?”
Tobio might have answered him, if the assistant coach hadn’t jumped right into their warmup routine.
He focused on volleyball, and let anything else fade into the background.
Tobio gave it his best shot. And failed.
He’d wanted to give Hinata a chance. He’d been on his best behavior. He hadn’t growled at him, or torn him into tiny pieces. Not even once!
But after a week of practice, it was obvious that they weren’t going to “get along.”
Hinata was insufferable. Staying after practice with Bokuto to learn all of his secrets, calling himself a disciple? Pfft. What a wannabe. Picking Suna’s brain about how he could increase his flexibility to improve his blocking? Such a suck-up. Asking Sakusa how he, too, could develop hypermobility in his wrists to get a “sick spin on his spikes?” Why so many S’s? Also, that was physically fucking impossible!
The most annoying part, the song on repeat, past the yoga tips he gave Motoya and the protein shakes he made for Aran, the thing even more annoying the never-ending stories of his time in Brazil, the one thing he said over and over and over again?
“Toss to me.”
“Toss to me.”
“Kageyamaaaaaaaa!”
“Toss to me.”
Tobio was no stranger to extra hours in the gym. He almost enjoyed spending them in silence with Sakusa, and had begrudgingly accepted that Bokuto would join in, every once in a while. If neither of his teammates were interested, he’d work on his serve alone, the repetitive sound of the ball hitting the floor a soothing balm for his frayed nerves. The gym was his place of peace.
It used to be, anyway. Now his peace was in pieces, shattered by the demands of an irritating gremlin.
“We can make the quick quicker.” Hinata said, getting in place for a run-up, ignoring the sweat dripping from his brow and the quivering of his exhausted thigh muscles. Not that Tobio was looking at his thighs.
“The quick is already… quick,” Tobio insisted, even as he set the ball, fingertips moving on autopilot.
Hinata was a blur as he jumped, slamming the ball down with a satisfying thwack.
“Everything can always be better,” he shrugged, wiping at his brow with the hem of his practice jersey, revealing tanned, toned, abs that Tobio did not notice. “You afraid of a little challenge, Scaredy-yama?”
Tobio ducked under the net to corral the balls into the bin. “We’re done.”
“Awww, did I hurt your feelings?” Hinata laughed, running around to scoop them up.
“No, it’s just late,” Tobio lied, waving his hand at the clock.
Hinata let out a squeak. “Shit, you’re right. And I have a paper due tomorrow.”
“Skill issue,” Tobio muttered, as he realized he hadn’t submitted his economics assignment. He groaned as he reached down to get the last ball.
“You sore?” Hinata asked, already sweeping the court with the broom from the storage closet. He was so fucking fast, and Tobio had never thought anyone was fast enough. He’d say it out loud if Hinata weren’t insufferable when it came to accepting compliments. “Tired?”
“No.” Tobio wheeled the cart into the closet. He wasn’t about to admit that he was a bad student. Not to Hinata, anyway. He made his way to the locker room.
He pushed open the doors and coughed at the potent smell of Alpha that always hung around the place. He grabbed his bag out of his locker and headed for the exit. He always showered back at his apartment, since it was a five-minute walk. Nobody batted an eye, since Sakusa did the same. There was a rumor he’d broken a guy’s arm in middle school for giving him shit about it.
“You’re leaving?” Hinata asked, ripping off his shirt and peeling off his patches.
The musky smell of cinnamon, clove, and the spice of ginger permeated the room. There was something else, too, a sweet, almost floral note. Cardamom? Tobio’s mouth watered as if he were sitting down to a bowl of curry. His favorite meal.
What is wrong with you? he yelled at himself mentally, as he choked on the saliva nearly dripping down his chin. “You’re a goddamned Alpha?” Tobio asked, his voice wobbly with… something. Annoyance, irritation, frustration. Yeah. That works.
“What, because I’m short, it’s a big surprise?” Hinata asked, a challenging fire in his amber irises. “What’s your fucking problem, asshole?” He got right up into Tobio’s face, as if he could reach without getting on his tiptoes.
The smell invaded Tobio’s entire body, and he felt like he was going to be burned alive under the assault. There was a citrus there too, orange blossom or lemon zest. Tobio didn’t want to figure it out. No, he wanted to leave.
Hinata was posturing, as if he’d start snapping his jaws, challenge him to a display of dominance. “You think I should be some sorta Omega or something?” he growled. “Like all the other little boys? Huh? Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Tobio growled right back, even as his secondary gender told him to submit. The fuck he would. The day he submitted to Hinata Shouyou would be a cold day in hell.
“Knothead.” Hinata slammed his fist on the locker next to Tobio’s body. “Just another asshole Alpha,” he mumbled under his breath, turning toward the showers.
Tobio didn’t stick around, didn’t bother spitting an insult in reply.
He left before Hinata could discover he wasn’t an Alpha at all.
A day of classes and zero practice was enough for the whole interaction to slip Tobio’s mind. He’d even forgotten Alphas existed at all.
Or maybe he would have, if a message from his mother wasn’t waiting for him after his last class.
Call me, it said. Tobio would rather go back into econ and continue failing spectacularly, but he knew the messages would keep coming.
Once during his freshman year, he’d put off calling her back for a week. As he’d bought groceries on a Friday evening, his bank card had been declined.
He never ignored her again. Lesson learned.
“Mother.”
She didn’t even bother with a greeting. “Are you walking somewhere?”
“Back to my apartment,” Tobio answered, but she was talking over him.
“The Gala is Saturday evening,” she said, as if Tobio didn’t know, hadn’t known for months. He’d been ignoring it just as much as his econ homework, and just like his failing grades, it hadn’t gone too smoothly. “I expect you to be there.”
“I am aware.”
“With an accompanying guest,” his mother hissed, as if the last word were distasteful. “I expect an Alpha.”
His mother could take her expectations and shove them right up her ass, as far as Tobio was concerned. He opened his mouth to tell her to go straight to hell, but what came out was a meek, subservient, Omega, “yes, Mother.”
“Do I need to reiterate the consequences for failure?”
Tobio mumbled a “no,” but his mother was answering the question for him.
“The college you’re walking home from will no longer have its tuition paid. The apartment you’re walking home to will cease to have its rent paid. The food you eat will no longer be provided, and the phone we’re speaking on will suddenly be out of service. Do you understand?”
Never mind volleyball, Tobio thought. His phone nearly fell out of his grasp with how slippery his hand became, as every pore on his body erupted in a nervous sweat. “I understand.”
“I will see you tomorrow night.” She didn’t bother with a goodbye.
Tobio put his phone back in his pocket and wiped his palms on his jeans. He unlocked his front door and let his backpack drop in the entryway. He peeled off his patches and his vanilla and jasmine scent surrounded him, soured with fear and potent with frustration.
“Fuck.” He rubbed at his face. “Fuck!” he yelled, his voice echoing in the empty room, bought and paid for by his rich parents.
Just like him.
His phone buzzed, startling him. One last demand, he thought, but when he opened the message, it was from Sakusa.
>> I know you’re not interested, but you still have an invite to the party tonight.
Tobio laughed out loud. Partying was the last thing he wanted to do. Sitting around with a bunch of drunk Alphas, trying to flirt with him, scent him, convince him to—
Tobio stopped laughing and smashed a furious reply.
<< I’ll be there.
He marched to his bedroom and ripped open his closet. He had to find something to wear, damn it all. Something that made him look hot.
Something that would ensure he’d get an Alpha to come home with him.