Back from Brazil (Patreon)

The gym door clicked shut, cutting off the sunlight from the hall. Kageyama didn't need to look; he knew the sound of that particular footstep, the light, almost skittering gait. The ball left his fingertips in a perfect, high arc, spinning precisely against the bright overhead lights before descending back into his waiting hands. Thump. Thump.

"Hey, Kageyama!"

The voice was loud, unnecessarily so for the quiet gym. Kageyama caught the ball, holding it against his hip as he finally turned. His usual scowl of concentration faltered, his jaw going slightly slack. Hinata stood there, framed by the gym doors, but the familiar, compact frame was gone.

"Check it out," Hinata said, a familiar, brash grin spreading across his face. He struck a playful, flexing pose. "I had a killer growth spurt."

He wasn't kidding. The Hinata that Kageyama had to look down at was now nearly at eye-level with him. His shoulders were broader, his chest and arms filling out his t-shirt with solid, defined muscle.

"You aren't kidding," Kageyama muttered, his voice low. He took an involuntary step closer, his analytical eyes scanning the changes. He reached out, poking Hinata's bicep with a single finger as if testing the firmness of a volleyball. "Just look at these."

"Yeah, feels pretty good," Hinata chuckled, the sound deeper, more confident. "I'm gonna be the hot new thing on every court."

Kageyama's throat went dry. His eyes, wide and unblinking, traced the lines of Hinata's newly developed physique, the way his muscles bulged under the thin fabric. A faint heat crept up his neck. "Woah," he breathed, the word escaping before he could stop it. He shook his head, snapping himself out of the trance. "I-I mean, just because you got some muscle now doesn't mean you're gonna be that great. Your receives probably still suck."

Hinata's smirk deepened, a knowing, challenging glint in his eyes. It was the look he got right before a freak quick. "Heh... wait until you see the full package."

Before Kageyama's brain could fully process the statement, Hinata's hands went to the waistband of his gym shorts. In one swift, audacious motion, he shoved them down to his mid-thighs.

Kageyama froze. All the air seemed to leave the gym. His analytical mind, usually so sharp and critical, short-circuited. There, nestled in a thatch of orange hair, was a thick, impressively heavy cock, already half-hard and pulsing with a quiet, undeniable promise. It was… a lot. A stark, physical declaration that the boy he used to know was unequivocally, undeniably a man.