There were three things about the sight before him that Tsukishima absolutely did not want to deal with when he opened the clubroom door.
One: The most noticeable, and not just from bias - Hinata wearing his jersey. The familiar 11 jersey so long it covered Hinata’s shorts was as delightful a view as Hinata blushing redder than his hair, sputtering excuses that made him look all the more suspicious as he dug through his backpack.
Two: The single brain-cell getting passed around. Tanaka doubled over laughing with tears in his eyes, Nishinoya’s boisterous laugh that was far too loud a sound for the human mind to process, and Kageyama scowling and spouting his usual, variety-lacking insults.
Three: The senpai that had enough sense to acknowledge why Hinata had Tsukishima’s jersey. And the smugness to chuckle along, wicked smirks when they noticed Tsukishima in the doorway.
“Hey, Tsukishima,” Suga sing-songed, that one rebellious strand of hair on top of his head standing on end like an antenna that picked up chaos like it was radio signals. “You wouldn’t happen to have Hinata’s jersey, would you?”
Tsukishima shut the door.
“Tsukishimmaaaaa!” Tanaka called out, muffled behind the door until it swung back open as Tsukishima tried his best to walk away.
Tsukishima put his headphones on.
No doubt thanks to Hinata’s blushing and incessant stammering, even Nishinoya would catch on any minute now. (Not Kageyama, but Tsukishima could write ‘Hinata and I are dating’ on a volleyball and spike it into his face, and he’d still not get it.)
Hinata blushed and stammered the same way when Tsukishima so bluntly asked him to be his boyfriend, random noises tumbling out of his mouth with just as wild hand gestures before shoving his face against Tsukishima’s face and simply nodding his agreement. The reaction was similar, too, when Tsukishima leaned over him, Hinata’s face a lovely shade of red before he pulled Tsukishima in for their first kiss. Oh, it was definitely the same when he slept over the other night to spend their day off after together, sputtering whatever incoherent words whenever Tsukishima so much as smirked his way.
He almost couldn’t blame Hinata for it. Hinata had the atrocious tendency to make his coherent thoughts hiccup, only for the most fleeting of a fraction of a second.
But Hinata, on the other hand, didn’t have much coherency to draw from to begin with.
“Oi, Tsukishima! Get back here!” Tanaka grabbed him by the back of his jacket, dragging him to the clubroom.
Forced to face the different levels of recognition on the faces across the room was somehow easier than looking at his boyfriend, still clad in his jersey, his blush exceeding his face and creeping down his neck, past the flash of horribly distracting collarbone.
Daichi and Asahi had the decency to pretend nothing was going on, suspiciously looking through their lockers but stealing glances over their shoulders. Ennoshita didn’t bother pretending, but he was at least polite enough to carry on with his life, folding his school clothes instead of gawking. Suga, on the other hand, was a monster, giggling deviously to himself and elbowing Daichi in the ribs. Even Yamaguchi refused to spare him mercy, quirking his brow with a smirk that almost matched Suga’s - though his, admittedly, was more of an ‘I knew it’, which he rightfully earned from all the times Tsukishima would change the subject.
The three tossing the brain-cell back and forth like a volleyball had some catching up to do.
“C’mon, Shouyou, who cares if you put on the wrong shirt!” Nishinoya laughed as he thwacked Hinata’s back, wonderfully oblivious. “You probably left yours at home!”
“Hurry up and call your mom to bring it before the practice match starts,” Kageyama scowled, not bothering to add up that if Hinata did, in fact, have a wrong jersey in his possession, somebody else had his in its place.
Tanaka, unfortunately, almost had common sense sometimes. “At least we know where Tsukishima’s is, right?” Tanaka pat Hinata’s shoulder reassuringly… before he squinted his eyes and pursed his lips, the familiar sign that gears in his head did, in fact, occasionally turn. “Why do you have Tsukishima’s jersey?” He turned towards Tsukishima, and Tsukishima could practically see the light bulb above Tanaka’s head flickering before he grinned as mischievously as Suga. “Are you two--”
“Alright, get to the gym!” Daichi called out, like a knight in shining armor declaring from his steed. “Everyone that’s dressed, out!”
Daichi, the true hero he was, shoved Tanaka out first before he could say anything more. The rest shuffled out behind them, leaving Tsukishima alone with the source of his problem:
His obnoxiously cute boyfriend.
More specifically, his obnoxiously cute boyfriend looking somehow even cuter in his shirt, his face as red as it was when he slept over, a blush that had grown deeper with each kiss.
“I- I didn’t mean! When- When I put it on, I thought-” Hinata stumbled with his words, arms waving all over the place. "They- I didn’t tell them anything, though! They just- I didn’t tell them!”
Tsukishima sighed, dropping his bag on the bench as he walks closer. “Why are you freaking out?”
And just like that, the wild flailing and stuttering halted. “Cause… cause I thought it was a secret?” Hinata blinked up at him as he stepped closer. “I thought I ruined the big secret.”
Tsukishima pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and put his other hand on Hinata’s shoulder. It wasn’t a secret, he just didn’t bother to talk about it. The worst of oversights; when it came to Hinata, he should have known better. “I don’t care who knows.” Technically. He didn’t care who knew - he did care about all the energy he was going to waste dealing with Suga and Tanaka’s teasing. But Hinata was worth it, he supposed. Not that he was ready to say anything remotely like that. Maybe in five years. Probably closer to ten. “It’s fine.”
“Thanks… Kei.” Hinata beamed up at him, and that with Hinata saying his name did awful things to his stomach.
“Why are you thanking me,” he scoffed more than asked.
“Cause I’m excited to talk about it!” Ugh, that smile unsettled his stomach worse than a bad breakfast. “I wanna tell everyone that Tsukishima Kei is my boyfriend!”
He had to get out of this clubroom before Hinata got even cuter. Or worse, made him blush, too. “Let’s just get changed already. Your jersey’s in my bag.”
“Okay, Kei!” Hinata tugged him by the shirt and gave him a kiss - too fast, too rough, but somehow all the more Hinata-like that it was… endearing. Something else he would need a few years, or maybe lifetimes, to admit.
He turned away as quickly as he could manage - he didn’t dare let Hinata see his cheeks burning. Maybe the jersey mix-up wasn’t too horrendous after all. “Whatever. Let’s go before Daichi-san gets mad.”