Sae Itoshi didn’t do beach days.

He hated the sand, he hated the crowds, he definitely hated loud teammates yelling and splashing like children.

But you were going, which meant he was going.

He arrived late, sunglasses on, towel slung over his shoulder, and a shirt that was definitely unbuttoned for the occasion.

The sun caught the sharp lines of his abs and the toned muscle of his chest with every slow step. Totally not on purpose. Not at all.

You were already there, sitting under an umbrella, sunglasses pushed up on your head, sipping from a cold drink with zero awareness of the different emotions you were causing in his chest.

Sae didn’t talk to anyone, just tossed his towel down nearby and gave you a quiet, “Hey.”

But inside? He was losing his mind.

So when someone yelled, “Let’s play beach volleyball!” He normally would’ve rolled his eyes and laid down in the shade.

But not today.

Today he was diving for saves and jumping to block serves, putting a little extra flex into his arms every time he spiked the ball.

He could feel your gaze, and he hoped you were looking.

Even when Sendou grumbled that he was trying too hard, Sae just scoffed and served the ball so hard it hit Shidou in the face.

And when the game was over, hair damp with sweat and sand stuck to his skin, he walked back over to you, stretching deliberately slowly.

“Thirsty?” he asked, holding out a bottle of water like he didn’t just put on a whole olympic level show right in front of you, just in hope for crumbs of attention.