Nishinoya/Tanaka, Hogwarts AU
Tanaka and Nishinoya did not meet on the Hogwarts Express.
They did, however, meet directly afterwards, once they were Sorted, and they immediately bonded over mutual agreement on three subjects:
First: Gryffindor was by far the coolest of the four houses and therefore, as the newest pair of Gryffindors, they were both automatically very cool, hell yeah, high five.
Second: That prefect was so beautiful. Unbelievably gorgeous. Wow. Dibs. No, me. Yeah right.
Third: Quidditch was, hands down, the coolest sport ever invented and the Beaters were, also hands down, the coolest players on the team, and I’m going to be a Beater one day, jinx, you owe me a Fizzing Whizbee.
The natural conclusion to all of this was, of course, a childhood declaration of lifelong best-friendship, sealed with a bump of their fists, and by their third year they were well on their way to achieving that particular goal (to the chagrin of several of their professors), and imminently close to another.
Noya would swear up and down that there was no feeling more satisfying than the crack of a Beater’s bat against a Bludger, and he whooped in pure excitement as he swung hard, connected, and sent a Bludger careening away across the Quidditch pitch. Tanaka cheered from the line-up of other hopefuls at the side of the field.
“Well done, Nishinoya,” Sawamura called from where he hovered above, and Noya preened at the praise from his soon-to-be Captain. “Next!”
Tanaka’s hit was a little bit off-centre, but just as strong, and he yelled out an apology to Azumane when the Bludger turned and whumphed into his stomach, to the amusement of the other auditioning players. Still, mishaps aside -- they were confident.
“Like,” Noya said on the way back to the castle, broomstick over one shoulder, “the others weren’t bad -- except that one kid -- but we were definitely the best Beaters. Lucky that the old Beaters were both in the same year, eh, Ryuu? Now we’ll get to play together.”
Tanaka grinned and nodded and they fist-bumped.
And (of course, they said), their confidence was well-deserved.
“Congratulations, you two,” Sawamura told them a few evenings later, in the common room. “Welcome to the team.” He grinned, and Azumane gave a thumbs up, one hand covering his stomach, and Sugawara laughed, and Kiyoko nodded, and Noya and Tanaka nearly exploded with excitement. Sawamura had to summon a hasty spout of water to douse the fiery sparks that erupted unprompted from Tanaka’s wand.
“We’re going to be a good team,” Azumane said, somewhat shyly.
And they were. They didn’t quite manage to win the Cup -- thanks in no small part to the highly skilled Slytherin Seeker -- but still. It was one of the best teams Gryffindor had had in years, and they were a part of it.
Their next few teams weren’t quite at the same level. It wasn’t until their seventh and last year that they actually managed, finally, to win the Cup. Everything came together that year -- their Keeper finally hit his stride, their Captain was a quiet but deadly force with a Quaffle, their Seeker was a genius, and Tanaka and Noya themselves were at the top of their game, their childhood passion and energy undiminished but with the near-seamless teamwork that came with seven years of concentrated, coordinated practice.
And their Quidditch team wasn’t the only thing that came together that year.
When they won, when Noya realized that Kageyama had the Snitch in his hand and Ennoshita’s sneaky goals had kept them far enough ahead that it wasn’t even a question -- the first thing he did was to fling his bat away and bolt for Tanaka. They collided, screaming, and slid out of the air in an uncoordinated heap.
And this time, instead of bumping fists, Noya wrapped himself around Tanaka like the giant squid and Tanaka grabbed his face with both hands and they smashed their lips together in a kiss that was as rough and messy and loving as they always were.