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Chapter Text

The first time that Kiyoomi saw Miya Atsumu was when he was only sixteen and at the All-Japan training camp. Kiyoomi had only heard of the Miya twins at the time; a powerful duo who easily dominated the court and fanbase with their mere presences. A simple gesture had their audience quieting down, quick eyes analyzed and watched their opponents, often mimicking other plays. They were known for moving fluidly, as one joint unit, able to predict each other’s next move. 

When Kiyoomi and Komori had been invited to attend the All-Japan training camp, Kiyoomi had eagerly accepted. He was excited, ready to meet other strong players and to improve to maintain his top two ace spot in all of Japan. Kiyoomi knew that the Miyas were both strong players; at least one of them would likely be at the training camp. Komori had teased Kiyoomi for it, though he quickly shut up when Kiyoomi suggested sending a message to a certain fox faced boy over Instagram.

The first day of the training camp was rather mellow, everyone arriving at different times and having the day off to explore Tokyo, with the rule to be back by five for the introductory assembly. Kiyoomi caught sight of a shock of blonde hair lingering to the side, away from the rest of the group. Atsumu was standing several feet away, hands shoved into the pockets of his maroon Inarizaki tracksuit jacket, brow furrowed into a deep set frown. A white surgical mask covered his mouth and nose, honey golden eyes sweeping over the other boys as if daring them to come closer; broad shoulders curved in as if trying to make himself seem smaller.

However, with his high reputation among the gathered athletes, with his ridiculous high standards for himself and his spikers, his uncanny ability to create plays and scenarios in his head, made it nearly impossible. Kiyoomi watched from afar, as Atsumu glared and snapped at others who came too close, gave stiff nods and jerks of his head when adults gave him instructions.

Oh. Kiyoomi thought. He’s really handsome. Kiyoomi knew that both the Miya twins had a large fan-base, one that continued to grow with screaming fangirls each day. This was the first time Kiyoomi was actually seeing Atsumu; his Instagram was empty and Osamu’s Instagram was full of food pictures. The gushing compliments the twins continuously received did no justice to the real thing. The setter seemed to exude an aura that screamed don’t come near me, and a sudden urge to just prod and poke at the admittedly attractive boy was strong.

When Atsumu’s eyes met Kiyoomi’s, the younger boy felt his breath hitch in his throat. Kiyoomi lifted a hand, wiggling his fingers in an almost mocking sort of wave. Atsumu’s face twitched, one side pulling down and Kiyoomi guessed the other was scowling. Kiyoomi couldn’t help the smug little grin that tugged at the corners of his lips. This was going to be fun.

Although Inarizaki High was a powerhouse school, they still couldn’t beat Itachiyama Institute during Kiyoomi’s second year at Nationals. Inarizaki had been strong enough to beat Wakatsu Kiryū, Japan’s third ranked spiker, but Itachiyama boasted three deadly weapons on their team. Komori, ranked the best high school libero, their setter had been crowned the Junior Olympic Cup best setter, and Kiyoomi himself; second best ace in all of Japan. It had been a thrilling match, one that made Kiyoomi’s blood race through his veins with an adrenaline he’d never felt before. 

Perhaps it had something to do with Inarizaki’s dynamics; their willingness to switch up their tactics in the blink of an eye, to take risks; only to have a boy with ink-dipped hair step in when things got out of hand. Inarizaki had a lot of handsome players, Kiyoomi could understand why they had such a large fanbase. It seemed as if all volleyball fans in Japan knew of the Miya twins. 

Osamu Miya, the rather laid-back and deadpan sort of character, competitive and a lover of all food. Atsumu Miya, on the other hand, seemed to stand out like a sore thumb, known for his cool and aloof demeanour, his highly competitive nature and his rather fastidious tendencies. Osamu was shown to be more friendly, willing to talk to those who approached whereas Atsumu was prickly and shut down anyone who tried to talk to him.

Kiyoomi was proud to say that his greatest achievement that year at Nationals wasn’t maintaining his top two ace spot in all of Japan, but rather making the prickly and aloof Atsumu Miya smile.

“Tsumu-kun! We meet again.” Kiyoomi grinned, six years after their first meeting, his voice lilting in a sing-song manner. Kiyoomi used his hip to release the locker room door, practically sauntering to grab a locker opposite Atsumu. The blonde’s shoulders tensed, hair falling into his face as he glanced just over his shoulder at Kiyoomi. His scowl was barely hidden by the surgical mask he always seemed to be wearing, gloved hands shoved deep into his pockets. 

His shoulders, like always, were curved in as if to make himself appear smaller despite the fact there were only two of them in the locker room. Atsumu bumped his locker door shut with his shoulder, propping one foot up against the metal as he regarded Kiyoomi with a rather flat look.

“Sakusa.” Atsumu finally replied in a cool and flat deadpan.

“So rude, Tsumu. Didn’t you miss me?” Kiyoomi tossed his bag into a locker before pulling out his gym shoes. 

“What are you doing here?” Atsumu said, in lieu of a response. Kiyoomi paused from tugging on his gym shoes, lips curling into a small smile.

“I’m here to try out for the Jackals, why else?” Atsumu went quiet for a few moments, before he hooked a finger into the elastics of his mask to tug it down one ear. Kiyoomi felt his traitorous heart skip a beat, and squashed it down.

“Don’t get in my way,” was all the blonde said as he moved back towards the locker room door. At that exact moment, the door burst open and Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou and one other person Kiyoomi didn’t recognize poured into the locker room.

“Omi-san!” Hinata shouted, his vibrant grin matching the color of his hair.

“Omi-Omi!” Bokuto practically swept Kiyoomi off of his feet in a hug, and a gasp escaped the curly-haired man.

“Bokuto, I can’t breathe.” Kiyoomi managed. Bokuto set Kiyoomi down, and clapped an eager hand down on Kiyoomi’s back. He caught a glance of Atsumu, his honey brown eyes slightly narrowed as he watched Kiyoomi. When Kiyoomi met his gaze, Atsumu abruptly dropped eye contact and slipped out of the locker room.

“Omi-san! You’re trying out for the Jackals as well?” Hinata bounced on the balls of his feet, and Kiyoomi ruffled his orange hair.

“Yep.” Kiyoomi replied, popping the ‘p’. “I heard that MSBY had a lot of potential, and so I wanted to check it out.”

“We’re a division one team. I hope we’ll meet your standards, mister number two ace in all of Japan.” The man that Kiyoomi didn’t recognize spoke up, and grinned in greeting. “I’m Inunaki. Inunaki Shion.”

“I suppose I won’t need to introduce myself.” Kiyoomi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, and Inunaki simply held out a hand in greeting.

“It’ll be great to play alongside you, Sakusa.” Inunaki tipped his head in a respectful manner, before he ducked into the bathrooms. 

“How was Brazil, Hinata?” Kiyoomi asked, and Karasuno’s former middle blocker’s eyes lit up like a firecracker.

“Fuwahhh! It was amazing! Playing beach volleyball has made me a much stronger player. I can jump even higher now!” Kiyoomi remembered the name Hinata had made for himself, zooming around the court and leaping high into the air. He and Kageyama had made a powerful duo, garnering attention much like the Miya twins; though centered mostly on their playing style. Hinata babbled on, expression bright and happy as he, Kiyoomi and Bokuto made their way back into the gym. Atsumu was already there, practicing serves and receives with another couple people Kiyoomi didn’t recognize. 

“That’s Meian, our captain.” Bokuto said as he pointed to the man on the same side of the court Atsumu was standing on. “On the other side is Barnes, and Tomas. Barnes is the taller one.” Kiyoomi nodded, watching the four MSBY players rally the volleyball back and forth. Bokuto bounced on the balls of his feet, wide eyes watching the volleyball eagerly.

The spiker bounded onto the court side with Atsumu and Meian, shouting out Atsumu’s name. The blonde setter’s eyes flickered over to Bokuto, rolled his eyes and set the ball Meian received in a perfect arc. Tomas and Barnes quickly moved to block, but Bokuto’s sharp cross barely brushed their arms. 

“Hey hey hey! Tsumu, great toss!” Bokuto cheered, whirling around to lift both hands up. Atsumu visibly flinched back, expression sour. Bokuto seemed to realize his mistake, and quickly stepped back, lifting his hands up by his head in surrender. Atsumu didn’t say anything as he stepped off the court, heading to the opposite side of the gym to get a drink of water from his bottle.

“Nice spike, Bokuto-san!” Hinata bounded onto the court, taking a running jump to imitate the spike Bokuto just pulled off. Meian, Tomas and Barnes seemed to all do a double take at the height of Hinata’s jump. Kiyoomi noted that it was a lot higher than it had been in high school, and his landing was much firmer. He saw Atsumu watching from his peripheral vision, and moved to join Hinata and Bokuto on the court. Tomas and Barnes had ducked beneath the net to greet Hinata, who gestured wildly as he introduced himself.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi.” Kiyoomi supplied as the attention was turned onto him. “Played several times against him,” Kiyoomi added, with a cheeky jerk of his head in Atsumu's direction. “Never came close to beating us,” he added with a stage whisper. Meian and the others chuckled, and Kiyoomi could see the scowl that Atsumu shot at him across the gym. 

“I think you’ll fit right in,” Meian laughed. Kiyoomi liked the sound; it was warm and boisterous, a sound he hadn’t heard since his second year of high school. His captain Iizuna, had a laugh like that. It was an uplifting sound, one that would help lift the spirits and re-center the Itachiyama players when the going got tough. 

The try-outs were simple; consisting of demonstrating their skills on the court individually and as a team. Kiyoomi, having been one of the most sought-after volleyball players through his college career, could safely assume he’d secured a position on MSBY. Hinata had improved immensely from his time in high school, and it wasn’t a surprise that he was also signed to the team.

The day after Kiyoomi and Hinata’s first official training with the team, Kiyoomi noticed a certain pair of honey brown eyes following him across the court, and in the locker room as he towelled his hair dry. Kiyoomi fought the urge to turn around and meet those eyes, the golden gaze that threatened to burn a hole in the back of Kiyoomi’s neck. It wouldn’t hurt to tease, right? Kiyoomi knew that it would be like playing with fire, but he was wholly ready to be burnt just like a moth drawn to a flame.

“Tsumu, do you wanna practice our serves together?” Kiyoomi asked as he sidled up to stand next to Atsumu. The blonde setter was standing alone near the bleachers, hip slightly cocked with a volleyball tucked beneath his arm. The locker room door closed, muffling the excited hoots and yells of Hinata and Bokuto. Kiyoomi slung a playful arm around Atsumu’s shoulders, noting the way that the setter jumped; he didn’t flinch. 

“No.” Atsumu’s eyes darted to Kiyoomi’s hand, “and get your filthy hands off of me.” Atsumu’s lips turned down into a scowl, eyes narrowing slightly as Kiyoomi merely grinned. 

“I washed my hands.” Kiyoomi said instead, tilting his head and gleefully noting that Atsumu hadn’t jerked away from him. “C’mon Tsum-kun, let’s have a competition.”

“No.” Atsumu scowled. “Get your hand off of-” Bokuto bursting from the locker room cut Atsumu off.

“I’ll take TsumTsum’s spot if he doesn’t wanna compete!” Bokuto shouted, waving his arms excitedly. Something ticked in Atsumu’s expression, and he shot both Kiyoomi and Bokuto a dirty look.

“Fine.” Atsumu snapped, shrugging rather violently to knock off Kiyoomi’s hand. Atsumu stalked off towards the court and Bokuto shot Kiyoomi two thumbs up with a broad grin. Although grating on Atsumu’s nerves was fun, Kiyoomi was aware when enough was enough, even if Atsumu didn’t always snap at him first.

Atsumu hadn’t changed much from his seventeen year old self, still as prickly as a cactus and a glare as cold as the Antarctic. He was competitive and rather nasty with the tendency to make his fans cry whether intentional or not.

”What do they expect me to do?” Atsumu had asked, expression rather sour when Meian had begged him to try to appear more approachable to the fans.

“Maybe thank them for supporting us?” Kiyoomi had suggested, a shit-eating grin tugging at his lips. 

“They already support us enough by coming to the games and events, why do they need me to thank them for it?” Kiyoomi had to bite down on his lower lip to keep an amused snort from escaping. Atsumu, always observant, caught the gesture, brow furrowing and Kiyoomi barked out a laugh.

Kiyoomi often found himself thinking of Atsumu Miya and his own selfish desire to want to learn more about the prickly and closed off blonde setter. Komori was happy to provide Kiyoomi with stories of Atsumu he’d heard from his boyfriends Suna and Osamu whenever they were desired. Osamu and Suna had reached out a couple times, telling Kiyoomi that if Atsumu was ever being a pain in the ass, to let them know, and they’d give him ‘details’ in return.

Kiyoomi however, wanted to see how far he could prod himself, to see how long he could go without getting his head bitten off. Perhaps Kiyoomi could consider himself a masochist, for finding pleasure and amusement in poking a sleeping bear.

“Sakusa! Are we doin’ this or not?” Kiyoomi was jolted from his thoughts as Atsumu’s irritated voice echoed through the gym. A grin tugged at Kiyoomi’s lips.

“So eager, Tsum-kun. Give me a moment to get a volleyball.” The irritated huff Atsumu let out didn’t go unnoticed. 

Kiyoomi watched, admiring Atsumu’s form as he practiced triple-wielding serves, his nasty jump floater, deadly jump serve and the disgustingly perfect hybrid. He’d avert his gaze and throw the volleyball into the air, a perfect toss before running up to a jump serve, the synthetic leather finding his palm at just the right time. The volleyball landed just within the back line with a satisfying noise.

Atsumu’s nose scrunched up in distaste, serving one of his hybrids in an immaculate curved arc over the net. Kiyoomi gave a wolf whistle, which received quite a nasty glare in return. Kiyoomi merely grinned, and held up a cheeky peace sign. 

“Tsumu, are you coming out with us?” Kiyoomi propped a hip against the doorframe as he turned around, effectively stopping Atsumu from going any further. The setter scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. The rest of the MSBY team had finished changing and were waiting for Kiyoomi to come out of the locker room; hopefully with Atsumu. They’d just won a tournament game against the Adlers, and the team had been planning on going out for ramen and drinks.

“No.” Atsumu replied, voice curt as his fingers wound around the strap to his bag. “Now move out of the way, Sakusa.”

“But Tsumu,” Kiyoomi griped, dragging out the last vowel as a whine. Atsumu’s left eye twitched. “We just won one of the biggest games in the season, we should all celebrate. C’mon, it’s just ramen and drinks. You can leave after the food.” Atsumu gave Kiyoomi a skeptical look, lips curving downwards into a frown beneath his mask. 

“Sakusa-” Atsumu started, but Kiyoomi was quick to interrupt.

“You can leave if you feel too uncomfortable. Just walk with the team to the restaurant at least? I know it’s in the direction of your apartment.” Kiyoomi fought back the smug grin as Atsumu paused, tilting his head as his brow furrowed in thought.

“Fine.” Atsumu grumbled, and followed Kiyoomi out of the gym building. Bokuto, Meian, Barnes and Hinata were all waiting. Hinata was the first to turn around, eyes lighting up.

“Omi-kun! Oh, Atsumu-san, are you coming with us?” Kiyoomi’s eyes flickered sideways as Atsumu stopped beside him.

“He is!” Kiyoomi beamed. Meian arched a questioning eyebrow, but didn’t question. “Where’s Inunaki, Barnes and Tomas?”

“They went ahead to secure a table.” Meian explained. “It’s nice to have you come with us, Atsumu.” Atsumu gave an awkward nod of his head, back ramrod stiff as they began to walk.

“You can relax, you know.” Kiyoomi said, his voice low. He resisted the urge to bump his hip against Atsumu. Atsumu grumbled something beneath his breath that Kiyoomi couldn’t catch. Hinata and Bokuto were practically skipping down the sidewalk like they were children, Meian lagging behind. Kiyoomi and Atsumu were at the back of the group, the former humming to himself softly.

He glanced over at Atsumu again, feeling his breath hitch as a beam of sunlight cast itself across the setter’s face. His usually harsh features suddenly seemed to look softer, serene and almost angelic. The sun framed his face, catching on his dark lashes to make them almost appear as if they were glimmering. He was really pretty. 

Although Kiyoomi already knew that the setter was attractive, handsome, gorgeous, even, it wasn’t often that he actually admitted it to himself. It made Kiyoomi’s heart stutter several beats, and forced himself to look away as he felt a blush crawl up his neck.

“Why do ya stare at me all the time?” Kiyoomi heard Atsumu’s grumbled question, one for only his ears.

“Why not when the view’s so pretty?” Kiyoomi hummed, delighted to note that a dusting of pink appeared on Atsumu’s cheeks. 

“Yer absolutely ridiculous.” Atsumu scowled, and if he hadn’t failed to tame his flustered expression it might’ve sounded like a threat. 

“Only for you.” Kiyoomi laughed, a yelp escaping his lips as Atsumu swung his bag, aimed at Kiyoomi’s crotch. “Hey! That wasn’t very nice of you.” He huffed, swiping a hand through his curls that fell into his face. As he glanced up, he caught the barest glimpse of a smirk beneath Atsumu’s mask, promptly freezing in place. A big, dopey grin crossed Kiyoomi’s face and he straightened, catching up easily to Atsumu’s rapid strides.

“Why’re you walking so fast? Flustered?” Kiyoomi teased, and this time Atsumu smacked him right in the stomach with the flat of his hand. An oompf escaped Kiyoomi’s lips, but he didn’t falter, grinning Atsumu allowed him to bump their shoulders together.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Barnes, Tomas and Inunaki all waved at them from a table in the back, away from everyone else. Atsumu immediately turned to Kiyoomi with an accusing gleam in his eyes, who in turn raised his hands in surrender.

You knew I was going to say yes, Atsumu’s eyes screamed. Kiyoomi simply moved around him, biting down on the grin threatening to cross his face. He hung up his coat and left his bag by the door to their room, slipping off his shoes to kneel on the tatami mat. Atsumu lingered by the door, seeming to hesitate. 

Hinata and Bokuto were already fighting over a menu as Meian and Barnes tried to pull them apart and calm them down. Kiyoomi gestured to the spot next to him, the one closest to the door and Atsumu heaved a sigh. Kiyoomi waited, pulse thrumming in anticipation as Atsumu slowly removed his shoes, hung up his coat and left his bag next to Kiyoomi’s. As Atsumu sat down, Kiyoomi caught a whiff of his apple-scented shampoo, and a soft huff of breath as the setter folded his legs beneath the table.

“Why do we have two literal children on the team?” Atsumu muttered, and Kiyoomi shrugged, leaning forward to place both elbows on the table. He rested his cheek against his hands to look at Atsumu. Atsumu glanced up as his finger hooked through the elastic of his mask and paused, levelling Kiyoomi with a blank stare that clearly asked, what are you looking at?

“What?” Kiyoomi asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his voice dipped lower, “Atsu-san?” Atsumu promptly froze, his eyes widening fractionally. A blush made its way across the setter’s face, staining his neck and ears a lovely shade of pink. Kiyoomi tilted his head, nudging Atsumu gently with an elbow when the latter didn’t move. When the realization clicked, Kiyoomi’s lips parted in a soft ‘oh’. 

“OmiOmi! TsumTsum! What are you guys getting?” Bokuto’s question jolted Kiyoomi back into the present. Kiyoomi turned to respond to Bokuto, subtly trying to nudge Atsumu out of his daze.

“I’m thinking of some tonkatsu ramen.” Kiyoomi flashed a grin. “Maybe something else as an appetizer. What about you, Tsum-kun?” Kiyoomi asked. Atsumu was still stuck, frozen with his finger hooked into the elastic of his mask, cheeks dusted pink.

“Er, Miya-sama,” Hinata blinked, leaning over the table to wave a hand before Atsumu’s face. The setter blinked, before he jerked back, finger pulling his mask half off his face to reveal a scowl.

“There’s Tsum-kun.” Kiyoomi teased with a lilt to his voice. “You zoned out for a bit. You alright there?” If looks could kill, Kiyoomi would be several hundred feet under. 

“I’m fine,” Atsumu snapped, taking off his mask fully to tuck it into his pocket. His cheeks were still tinged red, shoulders pulled up slightly. 

“What’re you gonna get, Tsum-kun?” Kiyoomi asked, and Atsumu barely cast a glance at the menu before responding. 

“Just get me whatever you’re getting.” Atsumu snapped, “and get that smug grin off of your disgusting face.” There was a trip to his words at the end, but whatever it was, Atsumu had stopped it just in time. 

“Will do, Tsum-kun.” Kiyoomi sing-songed, before he turned his attention to Bokuto, speaking in a surprisingly low voice. The spiker was talking about his plan on how to propose to his boyfriend of six years, Akaashi Keiji. Kiyoomi remembered Akaashi; a pretty-faced and level headed setter that seemed to know Bokuto’s ticks and tricks to get him back on track. He hadn’t been paying attention to the former part of Bokuto’s plan, but the latter part of the plan seemed to be quite… extravagant. 

“Bokkun,” Kiyoomi interjected, and Bokuto blinked owlishly, tilting his head at Kiyoomi.

“Yeah, OmiOmi?”

“If I’m remembering correctly, and feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but Akaashi seems to be someone who likes things to be mellow and on the down low.” Kiyoomi started. “I can tell that you love each other a lot, but don’t you think a band is a little too much?” Bokuto visibly deflated.

“You’re right,” Bokuto sighed. “‘Kaashi likes things quieter, but he sometimes makes exceptions for me when I come home after a win.” Bokuto propped his chin on his hand. “Yeah, I’ll think it over again, thanks Omi-kun!” Bokuto promptly launched back into a conversation with Hinata and Meian, managing to drag Inunaki into the conversation while Tomas and Barnes conversed quietly.

Atsumu shifting next to Kiyoomi had the latter turning back around again. The blush had left his cheeks, though the tips of the blonde’s ears were still a little pink. Atsumu’s brow was furrowed as he stared at his phone screen, thumbs tapping furiously against the screen. Kiyoomi hummed to himself just as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He was just about to check when a waiter came over, bowing slightly in greeting.

“Good evening, what can I get you all?” The team swiftly listed their orders, the waiter lifting a curious eyebrow when Bokuto rattled off several different dishes. He made no comment about it, finished writing on his notepad and gave another short bow. “Your drinks will be out shortly.”

Kiyoomi glanced down at his phone, checking his lock screen for notifications. A text message from Komori caught his eye, and he quickly unlocked his phone to open it. He couldn’t help but to smile slightly at the sight of his home screen; a picture of a green-eyed Maine Coon cat gnawing on Kiyoomi’s hand that was clutched close to the feline’s chest. 

Komori had recently gotten a cat, and Kiyoomi had looked after her for a few days prior to their Adlers game. The cat’s name was Miso, and had a habit of hugging people’s feet and hands to her chest, either biting or nuzzling until she was given attention. She was a bit of a brat, but Kiyoomi loved her.

“Is that your cat?” Kiyoomi nearly jumped as he heard Atsumu’s voice, quiet and slightly hushed. Kiyoomi’s eyes flickered down to look at Atsumu, who’d leaned over a little bit. He was close enough that if Kiyoomi even moved a centimeter to his right, Atsumu’s fluffy blonde hair would brush against his chin.

“Nah, it’s Komori’s.” There was a slight hitch to Kiyoomi’s voice, likely due to the sudden close proximity, and oh my God, he’s so warm. “Wanna see more pictures?” Atsumu made a soft, pleased noise in the back of his throat, nodding his head just enough for his hair to brush against Kiyoomi’s cheek. Komori’s text could wait.

Chapter Text

Atsumu was no stranger to garnering attention for his looks, now matter how shallow or self-conceited it made him sound. He and Osamu had been on the receiving end of multiple confessions since their middle school years. Atsumu despised being confessed to, especially when they would make him gifts, or hand-write letters. He felt awkward, forced to try to act appreciative when all he wanted to do was move past them and scrub his hands until the skin went raw. 

He’d never felt a pull, a spark of desire or interest whenever anyone confessed. He never understood the rosy cheeks and averted eyes, the shy slope to their shoulders. But, as he glanced up to see Sakusa’s fond expression staring down at his cousin’s cat, he felt his heart flutter. Atsumu hated to think about it, but he had to grudgingly admit that Sakusa was pretty.

The spiker was attractive, and had a charming and friendly personality to go along with it. Atsumu was a little jealous to see how Sakusa seemed to be so at ease with his fans, willing to shake hands, give hugs and sign his name on other’s arms and ridiculous other places with a laugh. It was stupid, the strange emotions Atsumu felt as he watched Sakusa flip through photos of Komori’s cat.

Atsumu jolted as his hand gave out from beneath him and he bumped into Sakusa’s chest. He felt, rather than heard Sakusa’s sharp inhale, the spiker’s slightest movement as he shifted. Atsumu immediately pushed back to sit upright, muttering an excuse about needing the bathroom before he slipped out of the dining room. Atsumu made his way out of the restaurant, craving fresh air.

He reached into his pocket, and promptly felt his heart stop when his fingers clasped at empty air. Atsumu glanced back over his shoulder, checking to see if his mask had fallen out of his pocket. He had extra masks in his bag; he always carried them around. But, he wasn’t willing to go back and be in such close proximity to him.

Atsu-san, Sakusa’s teasing voice echoed in his head and he felt that same, familiar heat crawl up his cheeks and down his neck. The way that the younger’s voice dipped low, practically a seductive purr for only Atsumu’s ears to hear.

“Atsumu-san?” Atsumu jumped, shoulders instinctively drawing up to his ears. When he turned, Hinata was standing there, wide eyes blinking up at him in alarm. “Are you alright?” When Atsumu didn’t answer, Hinata held out a new mask, still in the slim plastic sleeve. “Omi-kun told me to give it to you.” Atsumu reached out with his sleeves covering his fingertips, heart skipping a few beats as he took the mask from Hinata. Hinata beamed, throwing up a thumbs up before he skipped a few steps down the sidewalk to take out his phone, stabbing his fingers into the buttons before bringing it up to his ear.

Atsumu gingerly took out the clean mask from the packaging, slipping the elastics around his ears and exhaling with relief. He allowed himself to relax, though he refused to lean against the side of the building.

Goddammit, Sakusa Kiyoomi.

“So… you come here often?” Atsumu bit back a sigh and opened his locker, nearly clocking Sakusa in the forehead. The spiker reared his head back just in time, lips curving down into a pout.

“I literally am signed by a contract to be here.” Atsumu replied, gruff and his accent slurring his words together. “We are literally teammates.” Sakusa’s lips curved down into a deeper pout.

“It’s called flirting, Tsumu-kun!” Sakusa whined, and Atsumu felt his breath catch in his throat. He paused in his movements, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Sakusa, who grinned and propped his hip against the locker. His dark eyes swept over Atsumu’s body almost appreciatively, and the blonde felt himself heat up. “What’s wrong, Tsumu-kun? Haven’t you been flirted with before?”

“Of course I have.” Atsumu snapped, shooting Sakusa an unimpressed and flat glare. “Now shut up and move.” Sakusa tsked, shifting to block Atsumu’s path. “Sakusa.” Atsumu warned, his lips curling into a scowl beneath his mask.

“Now, Tsumu.” Sakusa practically purred. “Why would I move when I’ve got you right where I want you?”

What? Atsumu felt his heart stop, before it abruptly leapt into his throat, pounding madly. He felt a cold sweat spread through his limbs, suddenly feeling much to warm as a strangely pleasurable shiver ran down his spine. 

“What?” Atsumu demanded, hating the way his voice trembled. Sakusa’s cheerful and teasing expression dropped, slowly turning into something more… intimate, sultry, and hungry. Atsumu took a step back, breath hitching as Sakusa matched him with a step forward. The setter found his eyes sweeping over Sakusa’s facial features; to the curly raven hair in contrast to his pale skin, to the two moles above his right eye, then the delicate slope of his nose before resting on perfectly kissable lips. Wait, what? Kissable? Atsumu’s brain was short circuiting, he could barely think coherently. 

This close, he could smell Sakusa’s cherry blossom body wash, and the ridiculously sweet lemony scent of his facial cleanser. It made his heart race and heat crawl up his cheeks. Sakusa’s lips quirked up into a smile as Atsumu felt himself hit a wall. A soft gasp escaped the setter, and seconds later he found himself staring up into two pools of a midnight sky. A gentle finger, warm and calloused touched Atsumu just beneath his chin. Instead of feeling disgusted, a warm sense of comfort and pleasure slid over him.

His eyes fluttered shut, breath hitching as the elastics of his mask were slowly and gently removed. He bit down on his lower lip as he felt the cool air of the locker room on his warm face. Sakusa was quiet, brushing the backs of his knuckles against Atsumu’s cheeks, keeping his touch light and hesitant. He paused when Atsumu swallowed thickly, and Sakusa chuckled softly.

“You’re gorgeous, Atsumu.” Atsumu’s traitorous heart skipped several beats at the pure adoration in Sakusa’s voice, and his eyes slowly opened. An incredibly fond look had taken over Sakusa’s usual teasing and cheerful expression. It was fond enough that Atsumu could be fooled into thinking that Sakusa might actually like him. 

“I’m not.” Atsumu said instead, averting his gaze. Gentle fingers touched his cheek, coaxing Atsumu to look back at Sakusa. Atsumu refused to make contact until he felt Sakusa step forward, close enough that their chests were nearly touching, tilting his chin up.

“I thought you knew that you were attractive.” Sakusa’s voice was a low murmur, and Atsumu worried his lower lip instead of responding. “Tsumu, I’m gonna kiss you.” Atsumu didn’t have the ability to speak, so he simply nodded, feeling almost numb. Surprise flickered through Sakusa’s eyes, before he leaned forward slowly. 

Atsumu almost sighed at the first press of soft and warm lips against his. His eyes squeezed shut, and he heard Sakusa’s breathy huff of laughter. A hand came around to tenderly cup the back of Atsumu’s head, fingers weaving into his hair. Atsumu’s heart was thundering in his chest, so loud he was convinced Sakusa could hear it. Sakusa didn’t say anything about it though, pulling away gently from the soft kiss. He breathed in through his nose, before pressing another soft and sweet kiss to Atsumu’s lips. 

“Sakusa,” Atsumu mumbled, trembling hands reaching up to curl into Sakusa’s tracksuit jacket. Atsumu allowed his head to be tilted up, their kiss deepening. Atsumu gasped when he felt the swipe of a tongue against his lower lip, a whimper escaping his lips. He felt Sakusa’s lips curve up into a gentle smile. Atsumu found himself tugging at the sides of Sakusa’s jacket, pulling him down into another kiss; promptly waking up.

Atsumu shot up in bed, fisting the sheets close to his chest. His heart was racing, eyes wide with sweat beading at his temples. What the hell was that? Atsumu reached up to touch his lips, the sensation of Sakusa’s against his still strong in his mind. The blonde raked a shaky hand through his hair, trying to collect himself. It only lasted a few moments before the sensation of his clothes sticking to his sweaty skin unbearable. Atsumu threw off the covers, grabbed a change of clothes and hurried into his bathroom, catching a glimpse of his digital clock as he passed; 3:45 AM.

He stripped, throwing his clothes in the hamper and stepped into the stream of water, bowing his head. He hated feeling like this; spiraling out of control and unable to reign it back in. Without thinking, Atsumu punched the tiled wall of his shower twice, cursing when the second time split his knuckles open. He ignored the pain, opting to scrub at his arms, legs and body until the skin was pink and raw. The sensation of Sakusa's gentle touch still felt like burning brands being pressed into his skin and he gritted his teeth.

It was only a stupid dream; a dream of the selfish desirs that Atsumu had, pushed back and locked behind a defence of iron walls. Sakusa would never like someone like him; he was too particular, too prickly and cold. Sakusa needed someone better, someone who could keep up with his radiance that he seemed to naturally exude. Atsumu didn’t deserve Sakusa, even if the only person he knew his heart yearned for was a curly raven haired man with two cute moles above his right eye.

Later during the day at practice, Sakusa was the first to notice Atsumu’s split knuckles. He’d immediately dropped his volleyball and rushed over, hovering awkwardly before the blond with his hands lifted. 

“Let me help,” Sakusa insisted, and Atsumu relented. He was quiet as Sakusa led him to the bleachers before ducking into the locker room to reappear with a first aid-kit. “You need to be careful,” scolded Sakusa. “You’re our best setter, you can’t be injuring yourself. What happened? Did you get in a fight? Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Will you shut up and leave me alone?” Atsumu snapped, interrupting Sakusa. The entire gym fell silent, a lone volleyball the only sound echoing through the empty space. Surprise, then hurt flickered across Sakusa’s face, the latter emotion quickly being replaced by a faux grin; too big and too bright to be genuine. Atsumu immediately felt guilt clawing at his throat, shame for letting his panicked and conflicting emotions from his dream get the better of him. Atsumu had snapped at Sakusa before, but it was never as hostile as this. 

“Sorry, Atsumu-san.” Sakusa said after a few moments of silence, his tone painfully stiff and formal. The raven-haired spiker took a few steps back, bowing his head swiftly. “I’ll leave you to it.” Atsumu watched, feeling a pang in his chest as Sakusa turned, jaw set a little tighter than usual as he returned to Bokuto and Hinata, whose eyes were wide.

Sakusa was never curt, or formal with Atsumu; he was always cheerful, smiling and poking playfully. To suddenly see Sakusa to close up and be short, especially with Atsumu was weird. Although Atsumu had occasionally thought of what his given name would sound like in Sakusa’s low and smooth voice, like in his dream, he’d never imagined it to sound so… forced.

He felt the knife dig in deeper when Coach Foster blew his whistle to jolt everyone out of their daze. Sakusa didn’t even turn back to look at him. Slowly but surely, the sounds of volleyballs hitting palms and the linoleum floors echoed throughout the gym, followed by calls for “Omi-san!” and “Bokuto-san!” from Hinata.

“Miya.” Coach Foster approached, and Atsumu braced himself for the inevitable. "I don't know what the hell you did, but injuring yourself a week before our next big game was a stupid decision. I know you’re smart. I'm not going to ask what happened, but as punishment, pack your things and go home. Get some rest and heal up. Don't argue." Foster added as Atsumu opened his mouth to protest.

Atsumu gritted his teeth, but complied. He grabbed his things from the locker room, not bothering to change as he tugged on his outdoor shoes, threw a hoodie over his head and secured a mask over his face. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Atsumu chanted to himself, shoving his hand into his pocket to reach for his phone. There was only a one person he knew that he could turn to without being judged, or laughed at. Please pick up, Atsumu picked up his pace until he was practically speed walking down the sidewalk, desperate to get to the comfort of his own apartment before the realization of what he’d done settled in. There was a soft click from the other end, and Atsumu exhaled.

“Atsumu? What’s wrong?”

“Kita-san.”

“Hey. You only call out of the blue when something’s up.” Atsumu heard some shuffling, and Kita speak in a muffled voice, indicating he’d covered the receiver. A few moments later, there was the sound of feet going up stairs, then the closing of a door.

“How are you, Kita-san?” Atsumu asked, voice slightly muffled by the mask. He knew it was a cowardly move, especially when Kita knew exactly why Atsumu was calling. They texted often, but Atsumu never called unless something was serious.Atsumu was relieved when Kita went along with it, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to escape Kita’s scrutinising questions.

“I’ve been alright.” Kita replied. “Granny’s doing well. The rice farm is flourishing, and I’m pretty sure that I’m due for another rice delivery to your brother soon.”

“That’s good to hear.” Atsumu felt a small smile curl at the corner of his lips, remembering Kita’s grandmother. She was a wonderful woman, welcoming and loving; wholeheartedly willing to accommodate for Atsumu when he and his brother visited. “Tell her I said hi.”

“Will do, Atsumu.” Kita huffed out a soft laugh. “I’m sure Granny would love to have ya and Osamu visit. Says yer twin antics make her feel years younger.” Atsumu blushed, and made a noncommittal noise, one that Kita chuckled at. There were a few moments of silence, before Atsumu couldn’t bear it anymore.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Atsumu blurted, catching the attention of a few passerbys, who gave him curious looks. “I’ve messed up.”

“Start from the beginning, Atsumu.” Kita’s voice was calm and soothing, something that suppressed the rising panic in Atsumu's body. Kita was patient as Atsumu started, stumbling and stuttering through his words. He waited for Atsumu to collect himself when he paused to take a deep breath. “Atsumu, you like him.” Kita said, clear as day when Atsumu finished telling him what had just happened.

“Kita-san, I know that, as much as I’d like to deny it.” Atsumu grumbled, hearing Kita laugh softly on the other end.

“I can understand why you’d panic.” Kita said, growing more serious. “You’ve never felt attraction, yeah?” 

“That’s what I thought.” Atsumu shifted, relieved when his apartment building finally came into view. For the past several years, both Atsumu and Osamu were convinced the former was asexual. The mere thought of sex and intimate contact made Atsumu’s stomach reel, 80 million bacteria are exchanged with a simple kiss. Atsumu was almost positive that he couldn’t love, either. That was until he’d first laid eyes on Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

It wasn’t love at first sight; Atsumu didn’t know what that emotion was. But, he distinctly remembered feeling a spark of interest, a flush dusting his cheeks as he caught sight of raven curls, pale skin and curious dark eyes. Atsumu didn’t even notice the two stupidly cute moles above the other’s eyes until he tilted his head in the blonde’s direction.

Atsumu recognized him as the the second top ace of the country; already well-known and sought after by scouts for division one V-League teams even if he was only sixteen. Atsumu admitted he was jealous, a little pissed that Sakusa was so modest with the attention he got; awkward almost. 

He’d seen Sakusa be interviewed a few times after matches, chuckling with his hand cupping the back of his neck, a flush riding high on his cheeks; the adrenaline from a win. Atsumu hated to admit that he felt a pull; despite the fact that Sakusa also pissed him off from the very beginning.

“Atsumu?” Atsumu blinked as Kita’s voice brought him back into the present; he’d nearly forgotten they’d been on a call.

“Sorry, Kita-san. I spaced out.” Atsumu cleared his throat awkwardly as he made his way to his apartment door, opening the door and taking off his shoes. “Could you repeat what you said?” 

“I asked if you think you might be attracted to Sakusa-kun.” Kita said, as Atsumu set the phone down to rub hand sanitizer into his hands, wiping his phone down with a disinfectant wipe. Atsumu hesitated.

“I don’t want to like him.” Atsumu opted to say instead. He heard Kita’s soft inhale at Atsumu’s indirect answer.

“It’s alright to feel attracted to someone, Atsumu.” Kita said, and the blonde heard shuffling on the other end of the line. He dumped his bag by the laundry room and leaned against the dryer.

“How about you, Kita-san?” Atsumu asked. “Have you liked anyone before? What did you do? How did you know?” Kita fell quiet for a few moments, and Atsumu could tell his former captain was carefully putting together an answer in his head.

“I did like someone,” Kita replied, finally. “I knew that I felt something towards them that was more than friendship. I found myself thinking about them more often than not; whenever my mind would wander, I’d suddenly just see their face.”

“But Kita-san, yer always so dedicated to yer studies. I can’t imagine you driftin’ away in thought.” Kita chuckled.

“I have my moments.” Atsumu hummed, a gesture for Kita to continue. “I already enjoyed their company, but I found myself almost wishing for it at times. I would pay more attention to what they said or did.” Kita paused, and Atsumu heard some shuffling before Kita continued. “Sometimes, being close to them made me feel a little anxious, and my heart would beat a little faster. Have you ever heard of butterflies in your stomach?”

“Yeah. But you’ve got a pretty good hold on yer emotions, don’tcha, Kita-san?” Atsumu asked, remembering how Kita was almost always seen with a rather deadpan expression, carefully crafted to be void of emotion. 

“I believe so. I don’t think that the person I knew I had a crush on them.” Kita replied. Atsumu could almost see the wry smile curving at Kita’s lips.

“Didja ever tell them?” Atsumu blurted.

“I did not,” Kita’s voice was soft.

“How come?” Atsumu asked, bewildered. “Yer amazon’, Kita-san. Everyone had a crush on you at some point, I swear.” Kita chuckled at that, a modest, yet flustered sound.

“That’s exaggerating, Atsumu.”

“It’s not.” Atsumu insisted. “Ya got confessions all the time.”

“Mm. But never from the person I liked.” Kita sighed, and it was one of the very few times Atsumu heard regret in his former captain’s voice. “I knew that my crush wouldn’t end well; I had no chance at all.” Atsumu’s brow furrowed.

“Do I know this person? Will ya tell me who it was?” Atsumu asked. He heard Kita inhale softly.

“They were also extremely popular, they could easily attract attention from everyone in the room.” Kita began, his voice low. Atsumu had to strain his ears to catch it. “But they wouldn’t ever accept confessions, for reasons different than mine.” Atsumu felt a bad feeling begin to form in the pit of his stomach. “I admired them, but I soon learned that whatever I or anyone else felt wouldn’t be reciprocated. Not because they didn’t want to, but because they felt like they couldn’t.”

“Kita-san,” Atsumu interrupted, voice weak. “I’m sorry. I… I never knew.”

“There’s no need to apologize for something you can’t change.” Kita reprimanded, his voice firm yet fond.

“But ya deserve so much better than me.” Atsumu protested.

“You can’t change who you fall in love with. You fall for them for your own reasons. Sometimes it’s about what you feel, no matter whatever flaws they might have.” Atsumu could hear Kita’s smile; a little wry, and somewhat shy. “So don’t apologize, okay?”

“Okay.” Atsumu mumbled. He still felt guilty; he wished that he could’ve fallen in love with Kita. He wished that he wasn’t like this; stupidly particular and would feel sick if he even thought about the simple act of a kiss. 

Kita was beautiful; he held an air of what almost seemed to be royalty, easily garnering the attention of admiring eyes. He stood out from the rest, he was the top of all his classes; he was level-headed and never let his emotions get the better of him. Kita was a grounding presence that Atsumu had come to rely on in the years spent knowing him.

“Enough about me, though.” Kita said. “Atsumu, I’m sure you’re itching to get washed up. Go ahead and do that, and text me when you’re done if you still want to talk.”

“Alright, Kita-san. I’ll do that. Thank you.”

“Anytime. I do hope you know that I’m still here to support you regardless, right?”

“I understand.” Atsumu shuffled. “Thank you again, Kita-san.”

“I’ll talk to you later, then Atsumu.” The line went dead, and Atsumu slumped against the dryer. He didn’t know what to do.

It had been at least three weeks since Atsumu had that dream. He’s talked to Kita a couple times each week around their busy schedules, but he’d been dutifully ignoring Sakusa as best he could. Sakusa still greeted him every morning during practice, but Atsumu saw those bright smiles faltering, Sakusa’s tone no longer as upbeat and he would stand further and further away from Atsumu; even it was by a marginal amount.

They were tiny things; things that one would only notice after watching someone for a while. Things that only Atsumu would notice because he had a stupid crush on stupid Sakusa Kiyoomi. He knew, with the growing sensation of guilt, that Sakusa was confused, hurt even, but he respected Atsumu’s boundaries enough not to push. Atsumu felt that sharp sensation of pain in his chest increase a little each time he snapped at Sakusa.

The first time Sakusa had tried to throw a playful arm around Atsumu’s shoulder since the Incident, Atsumu had flinched. No one but Sakusa noticed. Sakusa had promptly froze, the smile on his face faltering ever so slightly, eyes flashing with hurt. Sakusa didn’t say anything, instead letting his arm fall behind Atsumu’s back. The raven continued with his animated conversation with Bokuto and Hinata, Atsumu was the only one to notice when Sakusa took a half step away from him. Kita, ever the perceptive one, knew exactly what Atsumu was doing when he called a few days later after he had the dream.

”Yer given’ Sakusa-kun the cold shoulder, ain’tcha?” Atsumu had flinched, inhaling sharply. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want these feelings, Kita-san.” Atsumu’s voice had come out hoarse. He was sat on his bathroom floor, back pressed to the tub with his head tilted back. Kita was quiet for a few moments.

“Just because ya don’t want those feelings doesn’t mean you hafta be rude and cold.” Kita replied. “It’s not gonna make them magically go away.”

“I know.” Atsumu said weakly.

“Atsumu, I’m going to tell you how I see it. Can I trust that you won’t be offended?”

“Go ahead, Kita-san. Do yer worst.”

“Sakusa-kun is so patient with you, and he’s willing to accommodate and help you out in sticky situations. But, he’s human too. He has emotions, he can get hurt, he can be driven away. I think, Atsumu, that if you keep this up, even Sakusa-kun will end up leaving.”

Kita’s words had struck deep, and though Atsumu knew Kita wasn’t trying to come off as harsh, he was right. But how? Atsumu had never felt romantic attraction to anyone before, never felt his heart skip a beat or a flush rise on his cheeks in the presence of a person. 

But now that he was painfully aware of his feelings towards Sakusa after that stupid dream? How did he handle the emotions? What did he do with them? Atsumu knew that this wasn’t healthy, and it definitely wasn’t fair. He knew this, but the realization was only settling in.

They had just wrapped up a practice game against the EJP Raijins, and like always, he and Sakusa were the last ones left in the changing rooms. Even after the three weeks of Atsumu giving Sakusa the cold shoulder, the curly haired man would still wait, quietly now, and hold open the door for him. Sakusa was still kind to Atsumu, and it made the setter feel both relieved and frustrated. 

“Kiyoomi! Are you coming?” Atsumu found his gaze flickering to the side, watched as Sakusa tilted his head to stare out of half-open locker room door. His hands clutched the strap of his bag, fingers tapping against his chest. Atsumu recognized the voice as Komori’s, and with baited breath, tried to predict what Sakusa would do as he continued to pack his bag. Atsumu watched as Sakusa glanced back in his direction, conflict written clearly across his face. Then, there was the slightest gritting of his jaw and Atsumu felt his heart drop. 

“Coming!” Sakusa turned back around, and without acknowledging Atsumu at all, left. Atsumu stared down at his hands, swallowing down a lump in his throat. He expected it to happen; Kita-san said so, but he just didn’t imagine that it would hurt this badly.

Chapter Text

“What’s going on between you and Atsumu-san?” Kiyoomi blinked, breaking out of his thoughts as Hinata addressed him. The team, high on their victory against the EJP Raijins, had gone out for okonomiyaki and drinks. Kiyoomi not waiting for Atsumu hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others. Despite Atsumu’s strange change in mood, Kiyoomi had still been patient, willing; hopeful, that Atsumu would get over this rut. 

Kiyoomi had been sorely wrong; Atsumu had only become colder and more snappish ever since the day he’d come to practice with banged up hands. The raven wouldn’t lie, it hurt. It was a stinging slap of rejection, a stab of pain that would drive itself deeper into his chest each time Atsumu snarled at him don’t touch me.

“I don’t know.” Kiyoomi replied, simply; honestly. He frowned, fiddling with the rim of his glass before tilting the contents down his throat.

“Well, I hope that whatever it is, you both work it out.” Hinata offered that beaming smile, and Kiyoomi nodded, a small wry smile curling the corner of his lips as he reached out to ruffle his hair. 

“Me too,” Kiyoomi admitted. 

“What about your cousin?” Bokuto asked, and everyone’s gaze turned to him. “Isn’t he dating Suna and Osamu? You could ask him.” Kiyoomi paused, his cup still pressed against his lower lip. Bokuto had a point.

“He is,” Kiyoomi started, slowly. “But, I don’t want to push my boundaries.” Kiyoomi hesitated, before continuing. “It’s clear that Atsumu wants space, and I knew it from the first time he snapped. I just didn’t want to… well, admit it.” Kiyoomi was well aware that his little crush on Atsumu wasn’t the most secretive thing; the entire team knew, though he wasn’t sure that Atsumu got the hints himself. Kiyoomi rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward with the scrutiny, whereas he’d usually bask in the attention.

“I hope it all works out for you, Omi-kun.” Bokuto hummed. The conversation was soon forgotten as their okonomiyaki came to the table, and Kiyoomi let himself get lost in the delicious food.

“Is there a reason you’re calling me at two in the morning?” Kiyoomi grumbled as he finally managed to find his phone in the tangle of his bedsheets. 

“Is there a reason you and Atsumu aren’t talking anymore?” Kiyoomi froze, suddenly feeling wide awake. Komori hummed. “It’s pretty obvious. Haven’t you checked your social media?”

“No, I haven’t.” Kiyoomi admitted.

“Well, the latest interviews you’ve had are a bit of a dead giveaway that something’s wrong.” Komori continued. “It’s easy to notice that you’re not picking on or teasing Atsumu as much; at all, really.” Kiyoomi huffed, falling back on his mattress, closing his eyes briefly.

“Dammit.” It had been about two weeks since Kiyoomi had left Atsumu alone in the locker room after their game against Komori and Suna’s team; two weeks of tense and awkward silence in the locker rooms and pairings during practice. “Who else is with you, right now?”

“We’re both here.” Osamu’s voice came through the receiver, slightly muffled. There was the sound of shifting on the other line. “Atsumu actually just left our apartment, so that’s why we were still awake.”

“I tried to convince them both to wait until later in the morning, but no, they both claimed they’d forget.” Suna’s drawl came through the line and Kiyoomi fought back the snort that threatened to escape.

“Yeah, don’t try to use the ‘I have practice tomorrow’ excuse, Atsumu said that you guys didn’t this weekend.” Komori chipped in.

“It’s fine,” Kiyoomi moved so he was sitting up in his dark bedroom, blankets pooled around his waist.

“So, what happened? Atsumu refused to tell Suna or I, and Osamu’s sworn to secrecy.” Komori chirped, sounding much too awake for the time. 

“I’m honestly not sure.” Kiyoomi frowned. “It happened about five weeks ago. Atsumu came to practice with his knuckles all banged up, and of course, I naturally just started to worry about him.” He ignored the three snorts of amusement he heard on the other end. “But when I tried to help, he said, and I quote, ‘will you shut up and leave me alone’. So I backed off immediately. He seemed genuinely pissed.”

“So you’re saying he doesn’t seem pissed when you purposefully tick him off for the millionth time?” Komori inquired.

“But it was the first time it actually hurt.” Kiyoomi mumbled. His own voice suddenly felt too loud in the sudden silence of his room, and on the other end.

“Shit. You really like him, don’t you?”

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t.” Kiyoomi flopped onto his side, tucking his knees close to his chest. “Osamu, could you… quickly tell me what it was like growing up with him? And nothing like Tsumu sucks, and the worst brother ya could ever have." He heard Komori snicker, then Suna’s voice;

“Don’t pout, you big baby.”

“I mean, we got along pretty well, if we forget about all of our arguments over who stole who’s pudding. I’ve never physically grappled with him unless he initiated it, because then it's a free game. He was real prickly, never really liked playin’ with the other kids.” Osamu finally said after several moments of silence. “Tsumu was pretty quiet, even as a baby. Ma was convinced something was wrong with him; he didn’t cry, and he didn’t scream. Well, until we were both old enough to understand that we were each other’s competition to be the better twin.”

“I would say Osamu, but that makes me biased.” Komori commented.

“Both of them are insufferable and tolerable at the same time.” Suna said at the same time. Kiyoomi felt his lips twitch.

“I like Atsumu’s prickly side. It sort of reminds me of a porcupine. Get too close and you get pricked; but with the right tricks you can expose a weakness.”

“I’d say that Atsumu’s weakness is you, Kiyoomi." Suna spoke. “He made an off-handed comment about you earlier. I’m guessing he said it as an afterthought, and didn’t think too much about it. But, as someone who’s known the idiot for over a decade, there was a lot more to it.”

“What’d he ask?” Kiyoomi barely stifled a yawn.

“He wanted to know if ya were finally fed up with him.” Osamu supplied. “I suppose he came to that after… well, ya know.” Kiyoomi hummed, knowing that Osamu was referring to the first time Kiyoomi had left the changing room without waiting for Atsumu. At the curious noises Komori and Suna let out, Kiyoomi huffed out an amused breath.

“Guess I can explain, since it won’t be Osamu speaking.” 

“Loopholes,” Osamu added. Kiyoomi yawned, covering his mouth as he did so. “If yer tired, ya can go back to sleep. If not, then I’m gonna kick these two out into the living room, because I actually need to go to work tomorrow.”

“I’m fine staying awake.” Kiyoomi blinked. “I hope their horrific sleep schedule isn’t messing up your internal clock too much, Osamu.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.” Osamu replied, his sentence ending on a yawn. “Now you two, go out to the living room so I can sleep.” There was the sound of shifting sheets, a few mumbled I love you’s, before Kiyoomi heard a door open and close.

“Alright, now spill the tea Kiyoomi.” Komori said. Kiyoomi curled his legs closer into his body and rolled onto his back. 

“Well, like I said, it started about five weeks ago when Atsumu came into practice with his knuckles all banged up…” Kiyoomi began. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed up talking to Komori and Suna; starting with Atsumu’s blow-up in the locker room, and somehow ending with making plans for the upcoming winter holidays before passing out.

The train ride from Tokyo to Hyogo was about three hours long. Atsumu had left the night before Kiyoomi, and the raven felt rather apprehensive about seeing the setter again. He’d seen Atsumu once after leaving him in the locker rooms, and Kiyoomi briefly wondered if Atsumu would give him the cold shoulder again. He didn’t think too much about it, relaxing into his seat as the shinkansen sped across the tracks.

The winter holiday was two weeks long, and Kiyoomi was rather excited. It would be his first time spending Christmas with people other than his immediate family. It made him a little nervous, spending the holidays with his crush that wouldn’t even look at him - someone who’d been avoiding him for several days in fact.

Kiyoomi shuffled in his seat, reaching over to the seat next to him where he’d set his bag and his store-bought bento on top. His stomach grumbled, and he carefully cradled the still-warm bento in his hands as he broke the chopsticks in two before beginning to eat. The shinkansen was rather full with people traveling for the holidays, and Kiyoomi was relieved that he hadn’t run into any fans. He wasn’t sure if he could deal with them at six in the morning.

When he had finished eating, he put the empty bento box back in the plastic bag and cracked open the bottle of green tea. Beside him, his phone lit up with a text from Komori.

Komori: Can’t wait to see you in person! It feels like it’s been forever since we last saw each other.

Kiyoomi:> We saw each other two weeks ago.

Komori: That’s still forever ago! D:

Kiyoomi: Haha, can’t wait to see you guys.

Kiyoomi: Who’s taking care of Miso?

Komori: Oh! She’s travelling with Suna and I later in her bag.

Kiyoomi remembered the special pouch that Komori had purchased for Miso, to ensure that the Maine Coon was comfortable whenever he travelled to Tokyo to meet up with the family. Despite her attention seeking habits, Miso was incredibly well behaved, and seemed to enjoy travelling with Komori; occasionally walking alongside him and hopping into his arms when he would board the train.

Komori: Suna’s just waking up so I’ve gotta go get breakfast started before he gets impatient and sets fire to another toaster. Our train’s in two hours.

Kiyoomi: Alright, I’ll see you in a few hours then!

Three long hours later, Kiyoomi finally stepped out of the shinkansen and into Kobe Station, where he spotted Osamu tapping away at his phone a few paces away. There were a couple more suitcases around him, and Kiyoomi guessed that Komori and Suna had arrived a little earlier; their train ride was less than an hour. Osamu glanced up and grinned when he saw Kiyoomi approaching.

“Hey, Kiyoomi.” Osamu greeted him warmly, pulling Kiyoomi into a one-armed hug.

“Morning, Osamu.” Kiyoomi yawned, eyes flickering to his phone to check the time; ten am. Kiyoomi jolted, nearly dropping his phone as something small and fluffy leapt onto his arm, claws digging into the fabric until Kiyoomi had secured an arm beneath the cat. “Miso’s more like a dog than a cat.” Kiyoomi said fondly, bending his head to touch his nose to Miso. He received a paw to the face.

“Kiyoomi!” Kiyoomi looked up as he spotted Komori and Suna, the former sprinting across the station while Suna followed at a more leisurely pace. Miso meowed when Komori skidded to a halt. Osamu ruffled Komori’s hair before he ducked down to press a kiss between his rounded eyebrows. 

“You look tired.” Suna greeted, gently nudging at Kiyoomi’s shoulder before handing him a pre packaged onigiri. Osamu wrinkled his nose at that, and Suna rolled his eyes before dragging the grey-haired twin in for a kiss. “You can make all the onigiri you want later. I’m hungry now.” 

After their quick lunch, the four of them headed out of the station, Miso comfortably nestled in her pouch slung across Komori’s shoulders. Komori and Suna were up ahead, already making their way towards where Osamu had parked his car. 

“Atsumu’s probably still asleep.” Osamu said as he fell in step with Kiyoomi. “He’s been real tired lately.” There was a worried crease to Osamu’s forehead, one that let Kiyoomi know that he was just as lost as Kiyoomi was.

“He’s alright, though?” Kiyoomi asked. “I… haven’t talked to him since the locker rooms, but it’s not like I haven’t tried.” Kiyoomi slid into the passenger’s seat as Suna and Komori claimed the backseat. In one syncronized move, they leaned forward to look at Kiyoomi expectantly. Suna looked a little bored, but Kiyoomi supposed that was Suna’s default expression - deadpan.

“So he’s been ignoring ya?” Osamu arched a brow, and Kiyoomi could practically see the cogs turning in Osamu’s head. Kiyoomi nodded.

“He still tossed to me and whatever, but the cold shoulder was blatantly obvious.” Kiyoomi would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt. “The rest of the team hasn’t really… said anything. I guess it’s because I’ve sort of given up trying.” Kiyoomi rubbed the back of his neck. “If he really wants to be left alone, I’ll leave him alone.”

“Even if you’re borderline in love with him?” Komori demanded. Kiyoomi scowled, trying to fight the blush threatening to take over his face. Miso meowed.

“I know Tsumu’s a piece of work at times, and even I don’t know what the hell is going on half the time in his head.” Osamu said, eyes flickering to glance over at Kiyoomi as he pressed on the gas pedal. “He’s going to kill me for saying this, but he likes you, Kiyoomi. He’s just shit at conveying his emotions.” Kiyoomi froze, feeling his breath catch. 

“Osamu,” Suna chastised. 

“I love my brother, but he can be really stupid and dense at times.” Osamu rolled his eyes in response. “Atsumu can get fucked.” 

“By Kiyoomi, preferably.” Komori piped up, a shit-eating grin on his face. Kiyoomi blushed and covered his face with his hands.

“I hate you all.”

Almost as soon as Osamu had parked the car in the driveway of the Miya household, the front door opened and Atsumu appeared. He looked relatively at ease, mask covering the lower half of his face, and to Kiyoomi’s surprise, he held a leash in his hands. Moments later a red Akita Inu bounded out of the door, barking as Osamu opened the car door.

The Akita skidded to a halt, tilting its head as it stared at Komori, eyes fixated on Miso who didn’t seem bothered at all. 

“Takao!” Atsumu’s sharp command cut through the air and the Akita plopped down on its side, tongue half hanging out of its mouth.

“He’s playful,” Osamu reassured Komori, who was still half inside the car.

“Oh, I’m not worried about Takao. I’m more worried about Miso bullying him.” Osamu blinked, and he, Suna and Kiyoomi watched as the Maine Coon hopped out of the pouch. She padded up to Takao, who rolled to get back to his paws. Almost immediately, Miso whacked Takao on the nose and the Akita jumped back with a yelp. “Miso, behave.” Komori chided. Miso’s tail flicked, and she sat on the pavement, tail curling neatly over her front paws.

“Samu,” everyone’s attention snapped back to Atsumu, who looked rather uncomfortable as he stood in the doorway. “Could ya take Takao for his walk?”

“Sure. But ya gotta help the others get settled in.” Osamu replied, before his gaze flickered towards Kiyoomi for a split second. Kiyoomi realized what Osamu was doing. Suna and Komori had been over before - though he’d been looking after Miso that time - so Kiyoomi would be the only one left not knowing what to do. Based on Atsumu’s furrowed brow, he’d come to the same conclusion.

“Fine.” Atsumu ground out. Osamu grinned. Kiyoomi grabbed his backpack and suitcase from the trunk along with Suna and Komori, and headed up the path to the front of the house. Miso trailed behind, and when she reached Atsumu’s feet, the setter pulled one foot back.

“I gave her a bath before we came.” Komori supplied.

“But she’s been walking around in the train stations, hasn’t she?” Atsumu shot back. Komori sighed, and gestured to his backpack. Wordlessly, Suna unzipped the front pocket and handed Komori some baby wipes.

“Come here Miso,” Komori cooed. “I gotta clean your paws so Atsumu doesn’t have a royal conniption when you jump onto his bed again.” Kiyoomi arched a brow at that, glancing over at Atsumu. For once, the blonde didn’t look away, instead a dusting of pink covered his cheekbones. Miso meowed, obviously not too happy when Komori gently lifted each of her paws to clean them.

“Follow me,” Atsumu said stiffly, jerking his head in Kiyoomi’s direction.

“He speaks.” Suna drawled. Atsumu shot him the middle finger and took off his shoes, trudging into the house without waiting for Kiyoomi. “Good luck. I know you’ve been waiting over a month, but please… maybe just a little bit longer.” Kiyoomi nodded, and followed Atsumu’s lead, carrying his suitcase in one hand to not drag dirt into the house.

“You must be Kiyoomi!” Kiyoomi stopped as a rather petite woman poked her head out from behind the partition hiding the kitchen from view. “I’m Hana. It’s nice to finally meet one of Tsumu’s teammates!” Kiyoomi carefully set the suitcase down and gave a small bow.

“It’s nice to meet you, Miya-san.” Kiyoomi offered her a smile, and Hana placed a hand over her heart in a swooning motion. Kiyoomi couldn’t help but to laugh. 

“What a handsome boy! Call me Hana, please.” There was a meow, and Kiyoomi watched Hana’s eyes light up as Miso padded into the kitchen, weaving in and around Kiyoomi’s legs. “So this is the Miso that Osamu’s boyfriends talk about all the time.” Kiyoomi watched as Hana took something from the kitchen counter, a small piece of cooked salmon, and crouched down. Almost immediately, Miso abandoned Kiyoomi to go over to Hana, sniffing at the fish before delicately taking it from Hana’s fingers.

“Sakusa, are you coming?” Kiyoomi jolted, feeling his shoulders stiffen against his will as he heard Atsumu speak. 

“Yep,” Kiyoomi tilted his head at Hana, who had her brow furrowed in Atsumu’s direction. Kiyoomi picked up his suitcase again and followed Atsumu up the stairs.

“You’ll be rooming with me.” Atsumu said, his tone still rather curt. His shoulders were drawn up, and in the half-light of the hallway, Kiyoomi swore he saw a tinge of pink crawling up the setter’s neck. “Samu’s taken the guest bedroom to stay with Komori and Suna.” Atsumu pushed the door open to the next room and flicked the light on.

There was a bunk bed, and the sheets to the top bunk were still haphazard. Kiyoomi guessed Atsumu hadn’t made the bed after he woke up. There were two desks; one neat and tidy whilst the other one had papers strewn across the top; along with several awards. There were pictures of the twins when they were younger all over the walls, including ones of when they were still at Inarizaki.

“You can put your bag there.” Atsumu gestured to the closet, and Kiyoomi dropped his suitcase by the door. He took off his backpack to place it on top and straightened.

“You sure you’re fine to room with me?” Kiyoomi asked, before he could stop himself. For a split second, Atsumu froze. Something vulnerable flashed across his face but it was gone within an instant.

“Unless you prefer to sleep on the couch to get away from me, feel free to.” Atsumu practically spat. Before Kiyoomi could reply, the blonde stormed out of the room. Komori popped his head through the doorway a second later, Miso perched on his shoulder.

“What was that about?” Komori asked, bewildered.

“I just asked if he was sure about deciding to room with me.” Kiyoomi shrugged a shoulder. “Since he’s been ignoring me, and all.”

“You haven’t done much to try to rectify that.” Suna slid into the room, wrapping his arms around Komori from behind. Miso hopped down onto the ground, meowing loudly. Kiyoomi crouched, and let the cat jump into his arms instead.

“I really like him.” Kiyoomi frowned. “How am I supposed to show that with Atsumu being prickly all the time? I want to try to make things right, but I don’t want to set him off. If I’m not talking to him, then he thinks that I hate him because he’s been prickly.”

“Just go with your gut.” Komori said, finally. “I don’t really know much about what’s going on, but I know Suna and Osamu know more than me.” Suna shot Komori a warning glare, to which Komori grinned and pressed a cheeky kiss to Suna’s mouth. Kiyoomi heaved a sigh, and sensing his distress, Miso pressed her head beneath Kiyoomi’s chin, purring.

“Just so you know, I’m blaming you for whatever goes wrong.” Kiyoomi muttered. Komori grinned, and Suna shot him a half smirk. The sound of front door opening carried up to the top floor and almost as soon as Osamu entered, Suna and Komori had dashed downstairs to drag him to the bedroom. Kiyoomi tried not to think too much about it. He was in the kitchen with Hana, helping out with dinner preparations. They were making udon from scratch, along with tempura shrimp and vegetables. Miso was sitting in the windowsill, basking in the sun as she watched with lazy flicks of her tail.

Hana was eager to talk about anything, thrilled to finally meet one of Atsumu’s teammates. When Kiyoomi mentioned knowing Atsumu before MSBY offhandedly, he realized a second too late that he’d opened a whole new can of worms. 

“Ma, don’t pester him.” Kiyoomi glanced at the door as Osamu appeared, hair mussed with a bruise just hidden beneath his shirt. 

“Don’t you wanna know what he’s like on the team?” Hana pressed, and there was a mischievous glimmer that sparked in Osamu’s eyes. 

“We can ask over dinner. I’m curious too.” Osamu ducked back out of the kitchen.

“I do hope Atsumu isn’t giving you much trouble.” Hana said, bringing Kiyoomi’s attention back to the petite Miya. It wasn’t until Kiyoomi had started helping her in the kitchen that he realized how short she was. She reached to just about Atsumu’s shoulder, and being a few inches taller than Atsumu himself, Hana reached to just above Kiyoomi’s elbow.

“It’s been fine,” Kiyoomi replied, rolling his sleeves up as he measured out two bowls of five-hundred grams of flour. They were making udon noodles from scratch, and Hana had been over-the-top elated when Kiyoomi offered to make them. She had explained that the process was much quicker when Osamu, or her husband did it since their hands were much larger than hers. Atsumu refused to ever help with making noodles from scratch.

“I’m sure you’ve heard this many times before, but he’s prickly. He’s a good kid at heart.” Hana sighed.

“Don’t stress about it too much, Hana-san.” Kiyoomi reassured her, creating a well in the center of each bowl before pouring the salted water into one. He soon realized why Atsumu would hate making the noodles; the gluten and water clung to his hands, immediately making them sticky. It only took a few minutes before it was a smooth ball of dough, and Kiyoomi moved onto the second bowl.

Once he’d finished and placed a towel over each bowl, Kiyoomi happened to look up. He caught a glimpse of blonde hair, followed by the sound of feet moving quickly up the stairs. He bit back a grin.

Kosuke Miya was a tad bit taller than Osamu, and seemed to be surrounded by warmth. He was cheerful and friendly, greeting Kiyoomi like he would a family member. Osamu and Kiyoomi took over the rest of the dinner preparations as Hana and Kosuke sat in the living room to watch the news. Suna and Komori were in the next room, playing with Takao. Kiyoomi hadn’t seen Miso or Atsumu since he caught the shock of blonde hair several hours ago. 

“I’m going to go find Atsumu.” Kiyoomi said, as he finished washing hands. Osamu hummed, nodding as he stirred the udon broth, poking chopsticks into the hot oil to check the tempura.

Kiyoomi climbed the stairs, rapping his knuckles against the room he and Atsumu were sharing before gently pushing it open. Atsumu was laid sprawled on the bottom bunk, fast asleep with Miso curled up on his chest. One of his hands - much to Kiyoomi’s surprise - was buried in her fur. Kiyoomi felt his heart throb at how soft Atsumu looked. Part of him didn’t want to wake Atsumu up.

Miso, on the other hand, seemed to have other ideas. Sensing a new presence in the room, Miso lifted her head, tail flicking against Atsumu’s forearm. She stood, carefully hopping off of Atsumu’s chest, meowing before butting her head against his chin. Atsumu started, limbs twitching as he jolted awake.

“Sakusa,” Atsumu mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

“Dinner’s ready.” Kiyoomi said, hip propped against the door. Miso hopped off of the bed and padded up to Kiyoomi, purring.

“Mm. Thanks.” Atsumu covered his mouth as he yawned. Kiyoomi hesitated briefly, before he spoke, voice soft.

“Atsumu, if I did anything to offend you, I’m sorry. I… just want to make things right, but if you really do want me to leave you alone, I will.” Atsumu didn’t respond, and Kiyoomi sighed softly, feeling his heart throb. “I’ll see you down at dinner, then.” Kiyoomi said, barely heard to his own ears. He turned and left the room, the door shutting just before Miso slipped out, butting her head worriedly against Kiyoomi’s leg as he walked.

Osamu was halfway up the stairs, and paused. He caught one glimpse of Kiyoomi’s expression and grimaced.

“He’ll come around.” Osamu said. Kiyoomi prayed that it was true. Dinner was lively, and even Atsumu engaged - if bickering with his brother while his parents looked on fondly counted. Hana praised Kiyoomi’s ability in the kitchen, teasing and prodding at Osamu, who merely grinned and shook his head good-naturedly.  

Kiyoomi told stories about the MSBY team, including the one time Hinata got caught in the volleyball net and the time Bokuto nearly sent someone toppling into the Edo River. After much begging, he relented and told them what Atsumu was like on the team - ignoring the heated glare that drilled holes into the side of Kiyoomi’s neck.

Chapter Text

“Atsumu, if I did anything to offend you, I’m sorry. I… just want to make things right, but if you really want me to leave you alone, I will.”  Atsumu felt his breath hitch, brows furrowing. His chest was still a little warm from where Komori’s cat had been sleeping, but the conflicted look on Sakusa’s face sent a chill sweeping through his body. Atsumu wanted to say something, but his throat felt clogged and his brain couldn’t formulate any words. “I’ll see you at dinner, then.” Sakusa turned, and left the room.

Miso glanced back at Atsumu before she slipped out of the door just before it closed.

“I don’t.” Atsumu whispered, but the only one who could have possibly heard it was himself.

The hurt expression on Sakusa’s face wouldn’t leave Atsumu’s mind. He was certain that Sakusa hadn’t been aware of it himself. He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his brow. It had been a couple days since Sakusa and the others had arrived at the Miya household, and the four athletes plus Osamu went out to the gym. Atsumu cast a glance over where Sakusa was lifting, back pressed to the bench with his legs on either side.

He allowed himself to briefly admire the muscles that bunched and flexed beneath pale skin, heard the soft grunts of exertion. He wondered what it would be like to feel those strong arms around his waist. Atsumu wasn’t blind. He had known for a long time that Sakusa Kiyoomi was stupidly gorgeous, with a likeable personality to boot.

Atsumu refused to let his gaze trail down Sakusa’s body, knowing that if he was caught, there would be absolutely no way out of it. Atsumu returned back to the dumbbells, muscles straining from holding them up without moving. He placed the dumbbells down and shook his arms out, eyes flickering up to see Komori on a treadmill with Suna and Osamu doing curl-ups. 

Suna had his arms resting on Osamu’s knees, giving him a quick kiss each time Osamu sat up. Atsumu hated how disgustingly in love they all were. A clinking of something heavy against metal had Atsumu looking up from where he sat, his own arms on his knees as his back hunched slightly.

Sakusa had finished lifting, and had sat up, legs still on either side of the bench. Atsumu felt heat crawl up his neck and a tingle raced down his spine as he watched Sakusa tilt his head back with a bottle of water at his lips, the bob of his Adam’s Apple. He desperately wished that he hadn’t reacted so strongly to Sakusa after the locker room incident, and the dream. He wished that he had the courage to confess - to confess his feelings, and to confess to himself that he wanted to be held.

“Hey handsome.” Atsumu blinked, looking up as a girl approached. She was only wearing shorts and a sports bra, and Atsumu resisted the urge to grimace. “Are you here alone?” She placed a hand on Atsumu’s shoulder, shifting a little too close. The blonde felt frozen, disgust thrumming through his veins.

Get off of me. Don’t touch me. Don’t come close to me. Atsumu wanted to scream; but something was holding him back and he didn’t know why. His heart was thundering in his ears, and his head was filled with white noise. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there frozen, but when he felt the light touch of warm fingers against his other shoulder, he crumpled into the touch.

“Sorry, would you please stop flirting with my boyfriend?” Sakusa? He heard the girl snap something, and a large and calloused hand curled itself around Atsumu’s shoulder. The disgusting touch of the girl began to fade away, and Atsumu let himself sag into Sakusa’s side. 

“Don’t think I don’t know who you are, Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi of the MSBY Black Jackals.” The girl crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t believe that you’re dating for one second. Atsumu’s a germaphobe, he’s not going to let anyone touch him.”

“Then what the hell were you thinking coming over out of the blue to touch him yourself? A complete stranger?” Atsumu felt a slight shiver run down his spine at the dangerous edge to Sakusa’s voice. He heard the girl sputter, but he couldn’t focus his gaze on anything.

“Why would I believe that you two are dating? You haven’t even spoken to each other on television for the past few weeks!” Atsumu felt a faint stab of pain in his chest, and the fingers around his shoulder curled a little tighter.

“Pardon me.” Atsumu blinked, trying to force his vision to clear as he heard Osamu’s voice. He, Suna and Komori had made their way over, and were standing next to Sakusa, practically trapping the girl. There was only one way she could escape the situation; turn tail and flee to the door. She took a step back, eyes flickering over all the much taller and broader figures before her.

“I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t harass our friend.” Suna said, one arm propped on Osamu’s shoulder as he leaned a little closer, fox-like features sharp and attentive. The girl took a step back, and let out a frustrated whine, even stomping her foot before she whirled around and stormed out of the gym.

“Are you alright, Atsumu?” Komori asked immediately. Atsumu’s mouth still felt like it was glued shut. “You’re shaking.” He was. Atsumu lifted a hand, and immediately curled his fingers into a fist, trying to force his breathing to calm. He felt Sakusa move away, and before he could stop himself, Atsumu had reached out, fingers hooking into Sakusa’s sweatpants pocket. 

“Atsumu?” He heard Sakusa’s soft question, but refused to respond. There were a few moments of silence, before he heard a soft sigh. “I’ll take care of him. You guys finish cooling down.”

“What about you, Kiyo?”

“I’ll do it later.” Atsumu felt Sakusa sit next to him. Atsumu shifted, allowing himself to rest his cheek against Sakusa’s bicep. He wasn’t tall enough to rest his head against the other’s shoulder, but Atsumu suddenly just felt the need to be close. Sakusa stiffened briefly, before he shifted, fingers brushing gently at the back of Atsumu’s neck. 

“Atsumu?” Atsumu’s next inhale was shaky, and he lifted one hand to rub against the shoulder that the strange girl had touched before. “I need you to talk to me. Can I help you?”

Atsumu stood, and tugged at Sakusa’s hand before it fell back down to the bench. Sakusa got to his feet and nodded, hands shoved into his pockets. Sakusa followed Atsumu into the locker rooms, and Atsumu waited for the door to close. As soon as he heard the click, Atsumu allowed himself to become vulnerable, turning and tucking his face into Sakusa’s shoulder.

He felt Sakusa inhale sharply, and felt him move. A few moments later, Atsumu felt strong and muscular arms gently rest over his hips. He exhaled a shaky breath, his own hands lifting to barely grasp the fabric of Sakusa’s sweatpants pocket. 

“Hey, you’re alright.” Sakusa murmured, and Atsumu felt the other’s heart pounding rapidly against his chest. Atsumu shuffled closer, forcing Sakusa to press his back against the wall. He heard the other’s breath hitch. “Atsumu?”

“Sakusa.” Atsumu mumbled. Sakusa’s body was hot through the fabric of his tight-fitting muscle shirt, and Atsumu nearly cried in relief when the arms around his waist tightened, pulling him a little closer. 

“You’re still shaking.” Sakusa said quietly. “Can you tell me what’s going on in your head? How can I help? I want to help.”

“I couldn’t talk.” Atsumu rasped. “I… something… I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t formulate words to tell her to leave me alone. My body would refuse to move.” It was only then that Atsumu realized how badly he had been shaking. 

“You’re okay now,” one of Sakusa’s hands had drifted higher, thumb stroking the nape of Atsumu’s neck. “You’re okay with this? With my touch?” Atsumu nodded.

“I’ve always been fine with your touch.” Atsumu mumbled, and he felt Sakusa freeze for a second, before returning to threading his fingers through Atsumu’s hair. 

“Hey, we can go back to the house, if you want.” Sakusa said, his voice gentle.

“What about cooling down?” Atsumu asked, face still pressed to the curly haired man’s shoulder.

“I’ll deal with sore muscles later.” Sakusa replied, and Atsumu felt the other’s breath tickling the top of his head. “I’m going to want to shower, though. You should probably shower too.” Atsumu hesitated briefly, before reluctantly pulling away. Sakusa’s cheeks were flushed, and he offered Atsumu a sheepish smile that sent his traitorous heart flutter.

Atsumu found himself sticking close to Sakusa on the walk back, flinching if anyone got too close, tugging his hood further over his head. He didn’t know where his relationship stood with Sakusa, whether they were still at odds with each other, tolerating the other or if they’d made up. Atsumu was pretty sure they hadn’t ‘made up’ yet.

When they got back to the house, Atsumu was relieved that his parents weren’t in the house. He loved them, but he knew that they’d jump all over him with worry. Takao perked up from where he was laying on the ground and bounced over with an excited bark. Atsumu relented and scratched him behind the ears, mostly because he knew that Takao had just been given a bath the night before.

“Er, do you want me to do anything?” Sakusa asked, brow furrowed. Atsumu hesitated briefly, several thoughts flitting through his head. 

I want to go back to what we were before. I miss having stupid arguments with you. I miss feeling you close to me. I miss what we had, and I’m sorry.

“You don’t need to apologize.” Sakusa’s voice was quiet, but his expression was soft and fond, something that sent Atsumu’s heart aflutter. “I know what’s going on through your head, Atsumu. I haven’t spent the past several years watching you for nothing.” 

“Why are you so kind to me?” Atsumu asked, voice trembling. “I’ve been nothing but rude to you.”

“Because you’ve been changing,” Sakusa finally said. “I’ll… explain more. Let’s just take off our shoes and sit somewhere comfortable.” Atsumu nodded and followed Sakusa’s lead, taking off their shoes and putting up their coats. Takao panted eagerly, following them into the living room. Atsumu settled onto the couch, and Sakusa sat on the ground to stretch. They were quiet for a few moments, Atsumu watching the muscles bunch and loosen beneath Sakusa’s skin, the way his hands tucked beneath his arms like paws. Miso had joined them in the living room, and was doing a spectacular job at stopping Takao from bounding over to lick Sakusa’s face.

“I feel that you’re closing off to more people. You were shorter with Bokkun and Shouyo before the break. You flinched more in situations where you would’ve given someone a glare or a sharp retort in return.” Sakusa said, leaning back on his hands to look up at Atsumu. “You were definitely more hostile towards me.”

“Atsumu, if I did anything to offend you, I’m sorry. I… just want to make things right, but if you really want me to leave you alone, I will.”

“You didn’t do anything.” Atsumu found himself blurting. Sakusa tilted his head, brow furrowing in confusion. “To offend me.” Atsumu clarified. Sakusa still looked lost. “The first night you guys arrived. When you came to wake me up before dinner.” Everything came out short, almost forced. He was struggling to convey what he wanted to say instead of forcing it down. 

“Oh.” Sakusa’s eyes are full of recognition, and a little bit of guilt. 

“I… you didn’t do anything, really. But, there’s just- there was just one thing, and I-” Atsumu heard his own voice crack and grimaced, but forced himself to push through. “The time you left me in the locker room. You’ve always waited for me before, even after I yelled at you the first time. But I guess that’s what I deserved after what I said and how I treated you, and it also just felt like you’d also given up on me, and you were the only one who was still willing to stick beside me who wasn’t a family member, and it feels like everyone avoids me because I’m prickly and a dick to everyone, but I can’t help it, it’s just instinct, and after the whole thing that happened at the gym, it occurred to me that you’ve still stuck by me despite all the shit I’ve said, and I’m sorry -”

“Atsumu, hey, hey…” Atsumu hadn’t realized he’d been hyperventilating, words pouring from his mouth in an endless stream. Sakusa had gotten up from the ground and sat next to Atsumu, hands hovering awkwardly as if he didn’t know where to put them. “Breathe, Atsumu. Your lips are really pale, and you’re shaking again.” Atsumu curled his fingers into the fabric of his pants.

“Can I-” Atsumu managed, his voice coming out raspy.

“Yes.” Atsumu immediately turned, clutching the front of Sakusa’s hoodie and tucked his face in the crook of the other’s neck. Just like in the locker rooms, he felt a strong arm wrap itself around his waist, practically pulling Atsumu half onto the other’s lap as Sakusa’s other hand carded through his hair. 

Atsumu hated feeling weak, he hated feeling vulnerable to the feelings he’d kept under lock and key for the past several years. Yet, when Sakusa uttered a simple yes, it was enough for those walls to come crashing down.

“I’m sorry.” Sakusa said, and Atsumu felt the vibrations of Sakusa’s voice in his throat. Atsumu dragged in ragged breaths - though it was hard with his face pressed to warm skin - and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, too.” The fingers in his hair were comforting, and as he became more aware of his surroundings, he realized that he was practically curled up in Sakusa’s lap. Takao was behind Atsumu, the warm pressure against the small of his back. Even Miso was curled up next to them, not quite touching Atsumu but close enough to feel the heat emanating from the feline.

It wasn’t until Atsumu sniffled and felt Sakusa stiffen beneath him did he realize that he was crying. He fought against Sakusa as the other tried to gently pull his head out from his neck. He didn’t want Sakusa to see how pathetic he was. 

“Atsumu?” Sakusa’s voice was a low murmur, and Atsumu suppressed a pleasurable shiver that ran down his spine. “I like you, too.” At that, Atsumu jerked his head back, cheeks red and watery eyes wide. Sakusa snorted softly, reaching up with his sleeves pulled over his hands to wipe at Atsumu’s wet face, before handing him some tissues.

Embarrassed, Atsumu wiped at the crook of Sakusa’s neck, before taking a new tissue to blow his nose loudly.

“What?” Atsumu demanded.

“I think you often forget that my cousin’s dating your best friend and your twin.” Sakusa replied with a fond smile. “Let’s be honest, neither of us were very subtle.”

“I didn’t notice.” Atsumu mumbled.

“Didn’t notice, or didn’t want to notice?” Atsumu remained silent, and Sakusa let out a soft sigh, reaching up to gently cup the side of Atsumu’s face, wiping more tears away.

“I’m sorry.” Atsumu said again.

“I’m sorry too.” Sakusa replied, framing Atsumu’s face with sleeve-covered hands and a small furrow to his brow. “I’m sorry for making you feel like I gave up on you. I thought that you just wanted space.”

“I did, but-” Atsumu let out a frustrated noise, fingers curling into fists against his thighs. How did he explain that he wanted space, but hated the idea of someone who he’d slowly been falling for giving him some breathing room without sounding selfish?

“Atsumu, can I ask that you be honest with me when I ask this question?” 

“Yes.” Atsumu nodded 一 he owed Sakusa this much.

“Why?” Atsumu’s breath caught, eyes flickering up to meet dark orbs that seemed to stare right through him. Atsumu fell limp against Sakusa, feeling his breath hitch again, his heart beat just a little bit faster as Sakusa shifted to let Atsumu curl up in his lap. 

“Emotions scare me.” Atsumu began, voice low. “I’ve never felt attraction towards anyone. The thought of a mere kiss makes my skin crawl. I hate the idea of touching someone else skin to skin.” He ignored the way that Sakusa swallowed behind him, arm falling a little looser around Atsumu’s waist. 

“That’s what I thought, until I saw you.” He cringed at how cliche it sounded. “I still hated the idea of sex, or intimate contact. I remember hating you for being so modest about all the attention you got, whether it was from the press, fans or classmates.” Sakusa made an offended noise in the back of his throat, and Atsumu’s eyes flickered up. Sakusa’s cheeks were a little flushed, but there was an adoring light in his eyes that made Atsumu’s lips twitch.

“It was weird. Being close to you didn’t make me want to throw up, or scrub my skin raw. I felt oddly comfortable around you, but it freaked me out. The only people I’ve ever felt that comfortable with has been my family.” Atsumu’s shoulders curled in on himself, and he shifted to press a little closer to Sakusa’s broad chest. He felt Sakusa’s heartbeat against his bicep, a nervous and rapid pounding.

“It scared me enough to try to push you away.” Atsumu admitted, feeling his own chest seize up with some semblance of panic. He couldn’t fully understand why, beyond the knowledge that he was, for once, laying himself bare before someone who wasn’t Osamu. “I thought that it went away when we graduated high school, and when I didn’t see you for all those years.” Atsumu remembered the strange, empty feeling he felt in his chest during that time.

The way his heartbeat would stutter whenever he saw Sakusa Kiyoomi, collegiate MVP volleyball player on the TV, or on social media.

The way that his heart had immediately leapt into his throat when he saw Sakusa Kiyoomi in the MSBY Jackals locker room, with that same stupid nickname that Atsumu hadn’t heard in years. 

The way that those feelings came rushing back, sending heat all the way across his face and up to his ear tips.

“Then you came back.” Atsumu finished, falling limp and exhausted as all the tension drained from his body.

“Then I came back,” Sakusa echoed, and Atsumu nodded.

“Can…” Atsumu hesitated. “Can you hold me?” Sakusa inhaled sharply, before those strong and muscular arms wrapped themselves around his waist. It was the third time that it had happened, and it was more than Atsumu could have ever dreamed of. Atsumu let out a soft sigh, and snuggled closer, to which he felt Sakusa chuckle. There was a soft pressure at the top of his head, before he felt Sakusa’s chin rest against the crown of his head.

“Go ahead and relax, Tsumu.” Sakusa murmured. Atsumu felt relief flood his body; Sakusa had finally, finally, called him by his nickname.

When Atsumu woke, he found himself laying in the lower bunk bed of his bedroom, a blanket pulled up to his chin with a warmth pressed against his back. Miso was curled up by his stomach on top of the blanket. Atsumu felt a soft breath against his nape and fought the urge to turn around. The faint scent of cherry blossoms and lemon tickled his nose, and Atsumu closed his eyes again, helpless to the contented smile that crossed his lips.

It had been about four days since Atsumu and Sakusa returned back to the house together. He knew that everyone else had picked up on his happier and significantly brighter mood. When Sakusa had bumped their shoulders at the dinner table the following night, jibing at Atsumu playfully, and Atsumu had merely rolled his eyes with a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips, the chatter at the dinner table promptly stopped.

Atsumu felt awkward under the sudden scrutiny of five people, and Sakusa, goddamn him, was trying hard not to laugh. 

“Thank God, ” Osamu had announced, throwing his hands up in the air, the piece of glazed pork belly between his chopsticks flying to land on the wood floor where Takao scrambled to lick it up. Atsumu had scowled in response, but relented when he felt Sakusa’s hand nudge against his own, their pinkies intertwining.

“Sakusa?” Atsumu heard Sakusa mumble something, the younger tucking his face in the crook of Atsumu’s neck, arms wrapping around his waist. Atsumu reached up to run his fingers through Sakusa’s curls, tugging ever so slightly to get him to look up.

“I’m comfortable.” Sakusa complained.

“What… what are we?” Atsumu asked, hating how vulnerable he sounded. He felt Sakusa pause, before the other shifted, resting his chin on Atsumu’s shoulder.

“Whatever you want us to be.” Sakusa said, and Atsumu snuggled back into his warmth. “I would love to be your boyfriend, but I’m willing to wait however long I need to for you.” Atsumu’s breath caught in his throat, and he tried to force himself to swallow down the sudden lump in his throat.

Atsumu wiggled, before turning over on his side to face Sakusa. He barely suppressed a gasp at how close they were. Atsumu’s nose brushed against Sakusa’s chin, and if he tilted his head up just a tiny bit more, they could kiss. 

“I really think that I like you.” Atsumu blurted in a stage-whisper. He pulled his head back just a little bit to see Sakusa’s lips curl up into a small and shy smile. “I’m not used to feeling these kinds of emotions, so will you be patient with me?”

“As long you’re trying.” Sakusa murmured. “As long as we’re both trying.” Sakusa shifted, and Atsumu held his breath as he felt the other move closer. He felt something soft and warm press against his forehead, and instantly felt his cheeks flush cherry red. When Sakusa settled back down and offered him a dopey grin, Atsumu couldn’t help but to tilt his head up, pressing a chaste kiss to Sakusa’s cheek.

He buried his face in Sakusa’s chest directly after, feeling the younger man chuckle, press a kiss to the crown of his head and pull the covers further up to cover them.

“Merry Christmas, Atsumu.” Atsumu hesitated briefly, before he spoke.

“Merry Christmas… Kiyoomi.”

Chapter Text

Over the past few days, Kiyoomi had found out that Miya Atsumu was a cuddler - quite touch starved, in fact. At almost every waking second of the day since they’d talked and cuddled on the couch, Atsumu was touching Kiyoomi, even if it was just linking their pinkies together.

The first time Atsumu had voluntarily touched Kiyoomi, pressed their bodies together in fact, Kiyoomi felt that his heart would leap out of his throat. Then, he nearly had a damn heart attack when Atsumu curled up in his lap, pliant and shaken. 

Then, he’d practically had another heart attack when he happened to glance up to see Osamu, Suna and Komori gaping at them from behind the glass of the large living room window.

Ten minutes, please. Kiyoomi had mouthed, trying to focus all his attention on Atsumu, who was practically pouring his heart out. The setter needed him — needed some solace of comfort — and Kiyoomi was more than willing to give it to him. It was awkward, and a little embarrassing to know that his cousin, and his crush’s best friend and twin were watching. 

It was about fifteen minutes later when Atsumu was sound asleep and exhausted in Kiyoomi’s lap, and the front door opened. Osamu, Komori and Suna all shuffled inside, making sure to keep quiet, though their eyes were wide and were full of unanswered questions.

“Whatever you do, do not mention this to Atsumu,” Kiyoomi said, voice low. “I…” Kiyoomi hesitated. “I don’t want him to seize up again.”

“We didn’t see anything.” Komori agreed, and elbowed Osamu in the side when the Miya twin opened his mouth. Kiyoomi relaxed back into the couch, Atsumu’s warm weight pressed to his chest, soft breaths brushing against his neck.

“I’m glad you’ve worked it out.” Kiyoomi glanced up over the back of the couch as Suna passed and offered a rare half smile before following his boyfriends into the kitchen. Kiyoomi resisted the urge to kiss Atsumu’s forehead, keeping his arms wrapped around the blonde’s waist. Takao had left the couch when the others entered the house, but Miso stayed curled up next to them, purring softly. 

When Kiyoomi gently slid an arm beneath Atsumu’s knees, bracing one just beneath his shoulders to lift him up bridal style, he heard the conversation in the kitchen quiet. Miso stirred, stretching and yawning before she hopped to the ground to follow Kiyoomi as he walked as slowly as possible — even sliding his feet across the floor.

“I’m gonna lay him down.” Kiyoomi said. “I’ll probably lay down with him, I’m not sure.”

“I think Tsumu needs someone to stay close to him right now, even if he is asleep.” Osamu said, his grey eyes full of fondness and gratitude. Kiyoomi nodded, his eyes flickering down to Atsumu’s sleeping face.

“If you need anything, just knock or text.” Kiyoomi barely stifled a yawn as he dipped his head and moved towards the staircase. Atsumu’s brow had furrowed slightly as Kiyoomi climbed the staircase, and a soft protest of don’t leave, left Atsumu’s lips when Kiyoomi awkwardly set the blonde down on the lower bunk. Kiyoomi crawled in behind Atsumu, drawing the covers over them.

Miso hopped up on the bed next to Atsumu’s stomach and curled up with her tail tucked over her nose. Her soft purring and Atsumu’s warmth was enough for Kiyoomi’s eyes to flutter shut.

“Merry Christmas… Kiyoomi.” Ah. Kiyoomi tried to coax his not-yet-boyfriend’s head up, fingers pushing through blonde hair. It was soft, and smelled like apples. When Atsumu had tucked his face into Kiyoomi’s shoulder in the locker room, he was almost certain that his soul left his body. 

Atsumu was warm and solid against his chest, waist surprisingly trim beneath Kiyoomi’s arms. His heart was erratic - he couldn’t tell whether it was his own or Atsumu’s, or both.

“You can’t just say that,” Kiyoomi whined, and he felt Atsumu’s embarrassed snort through the fabric of his shirt. “Tsumu,” Kiyoomi dipped his head, feeling his breath hitch when Atsumu lifted his own, nuzzling into his neck. Kiyoomi bit back a soft whine when Atsumu slid a leg between Kiyoomi’s and draped one arm around his waist. 

“I just did.” Atsumu murmured. He pulled back ever so slightly so Kiyoomi could just make out Atsumu’s features in the dark room. “Will you keep calling me by your nicknames for me?” Just when Kiyoomi didn’t think it was possible for his heart to be any fuller, Atsumu had to prove him wrong.

“For as long as you want, Tsumu.” 

On New Years Eve, Kiyoomi woke to Atsumu shifting in his arms, and hushed whispers. Kiyoomi groaned softly, burying his face in the soft crook of Atsumu’s shoulder. He felt Atsumu’s heart stutter beneath his arm that was slung over his chest. Fingers slid into Kiyoomi’s hair, neatly trimmed nails scratching at his scalp. Kiyoomi lifted his head, forcing his eyes open and blinked blearily. He spotted Osamu leaning against the desk across from the bed.

“G’morning.” Kiyoomi mumbled, making a move to pull back from Atsumu, feeling rather awkward to be cuddling intimately with Atsumu’s twin right across from them. 

“Morning,” Osamu said, grinning wryly as Atsumu made a soft noise of protest. Kiyoomi caught the scowl that Atsumu shot his twin. “I just came in to tell Atsumu that Ma wants help with some cleaning after we eat breakfast.”

“I can help.” Kiyoomi yawned, before propping himself up with one arm. He rubbed at his eyes, letting out a soft oomf as Atsumu looped an arm around his neck and pulled him back down.

“Fuck of, Samu.” Atsumu’s voice came out muffled, and Kiyoomi chuckled, still half-asleep as he threaded his fingers through Atsumu’s hair.

“I’ll bring him downstairs in a few.” Kiyoomi promised. Osamu nodded, a soft smile on his face.

Thank you, Osamu mouthed, before he pushed off the desk and moved quietly towards the door. 

Atsumu eventually got up with his blonde hair a wild mess, but he looked adorable in Kiyoomi’s Jackals hoodie, so he bit back the tease. Kiyoomi let Atsumu have the bathroom first, playfully ruffling Atsumu’s still unkempt hair as they passed each other. Kiyoomi showered quickly, wiping down the shower and threw on a new pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt as he brushed his teeth. 

He could hear the twins bickering downstairs over the low thrum of the washing machine somewhere deeper inside of the house. Miso was sitting on the shelf of the window above the heater, and Takao was laying down on the living room floor. 

Komori, Suna and Kosuke were all on the couch, looking at photo albums. Kiyoomi poked his head into the kitchen to see Hana with a steaming pot on the stove and chopping vegetables with frightening speed. 

“Would you like any help?” Kiyoomi asked. Hana stopped chopping vegetables to look over at the door frame and the concentrated furrow in her brow relaxed.

“Kiyoomi-kun! Good morning. Any help would be great.” Kiyoomi nodded and slipped into the kitchen, catching sight of the jars of tsukemono Hana had made the night before, and several pieces of mackerel. “If you could wash the rice and start cooking it, then start preparing the mackerel, we’ll be able to eat a lot quicker.”

“Sure thing, Hana.” Kiyoomi found the rice in the pantry at the back, and gripped the new bag of 20kg of rice before lifting it up with ease. He measured out the right amount before placing the bag of rice back into the pantry, heading back out to rinse the rice. Miso padded into the kitchen, jaws parting on a wide yawn, before she sneezed.

“Morning, Miso.” Hana smiled, and the Maine Coon purred, weaving in between Hana’s legs before sitting down by Kiyoomi’s feet, pushing her head into his leg. Kiyoomi let her settle down on his bare feet, curled up contentedly as the curly haired man washed the rice, measured out the water, poured it into the pot and turned the rice cooker on.

Breakfast was soon ready to be served, and as Hana and Osamu set the table, Kiyoomi went to go find where Atsumu was. He found the blonde in the downstairs bathroom, wiping down the counter, with a furrow etched into his brow. Atsumu glanced up as he sensed a new presence, and Kiyoomi could see the way that Atsumu’s lips curled up, even beneath the mask. 

Kiyoomi lifted his arms, and Atsumu abandoned the rag, tucking himself beneath Kiyoomi’s chin and sighing softly when arms curled around his waist. Kiyoomi pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of Atsumu’s head, grinning slightly when Atsumu’s breath hitched.

“Breakfast is ready.” Kiyoomi said in a low murmur. Atsumu hummed, before he pulled away to toss the rag in the hamper and to wash his hands, and Kiyoomi joined him a few seconds later. They walked back to the table, pinkie fingers linked and sat down next to each other.

“Itadakimasu.” A few minutes after eating, Kiyoomi felt a nudge below his knee, and glanced up to see Suna and his cousin staring at him. Now, their expressions seemed to say.

“Kosuke, Hana,” Kiyoomi started. The Miya parents turned their attention to Kiyoomi, earning him a curious glance from the twins. “Komori, Suna and I wanted to thank you for letting us stay for the winter holidays, so we’ve made a reservation at Mouriya Rin. I remember Atsumu talking about how you all enjoyed kobe beef on special occasions a while back, so we did a bit of research before we arrived.”

“It’s on us, as well.” Suna added. “I can’t imagine how much you’ve had to spend on groceries since we’ve arrived.”

“The reservation is for January 2nd at eight!” Komori chirped, before he beamed at the disbelieving expressions he got from the Miyas.

“Isn’t that a pretty high-end restaurant?” Kosuke asked. Kiyoomi nodded.

“You get to see the chefs prepare the food before you, so we thought that might interest Osamu, as well. The restaurant’s really clean and they were more than willing to accommodate for Atsumu’s mysophobia, as well.” Kiyoomi said, glancing over at Atsumu, who ducked his head, failing to hide the tiny quirk to his lips.

“This is so generous of you three, thank you.” Hana had a hand pressed to her lips, and Osamu let out an exasperated groan around a pickled radish he’d just popped into his mouth.

“Ma, ain’t it still generous of ya and Dad to invite us all for the holidays?” Osamu asked.

“Shush, Osamu, let me have a moment.” Kiyoomi’s lips quirked up into a grin, Suna and Komori soon following as Osamu grumbled and shoved several bites of rice in his mouth. Kiyoomi felt something tug on his sleeve, and looked back over to find that Atsumu had a hold of his sleeve, asking a wordless question. Kiyoomi twisted his wrist, before intertwining their fingers together.

Thank you, Atsumu tried to say through squeezing Kiyoomi’s hand.

Kiyoomi spent the rest of the day helping to clean the house and prepare the osechi ryori for New Years, and the homemade dashi and noodles for tonight’s toshikoshi soba. It was cozy in the house, as snow fell outside, flakes swirling and dancing in the winter air. Lunch was a small break with an assortment of sushi with miso soup and tofu before they got back to work cleaning and preparing for the new year.

“Omi, I’m tired.” Atsumu mumbled, arms wrapping around Kiyoomi from behind, forehead pressing to his spine. Kiyoomi felt his heart flip in his chest at the nickname. 

“Think you’ll make it until midnight?” Kiyoomi asked, pausing from where he was washing the windows, placing a gloved hand over Atsumu’s own.

“No.” Atsumu yawned, arms tightening slightly around Kiyoomi’s waist. “I wanna take a nap. Come cuddle with me. I’ll get Samu to finish the windows, I saw him making out with Suna in the bathroom a few minutes ago.” Kiyoomi snorted, turning around to wrap one arm around Atsumu’s shoulders.

“Let me finish with these windows, alright?” Kiyoomi murmured. Atsumu nodded, pulling back slightly to stare up at Kiyoomi, eyes wide as if he wanted to ask something. Atsumu didn’t say anything, instead he lifted a hand to briefly card his fingers through Kiyoomi’s curls before he pulled away and padded upstairs.

Kiyoomi finished cleaning the windows, and went to check in on Hana, Osamu, and Komori who were in the kitchen, letting them know that he and Atsumu were going to take a quick nap. On the way upstairs, he caught sight of Kosuke and Suna vacuuming and dusting. Kosuke nodded to Kiyoomi before the latter disappeared into the bedroom. 

Atsumu was already half asleep, curled up beneath a fluffy down comforter, his blonde hair barely visible. Kiyoomi chuckled, reaching for the hand sanitizer on Atsumu’s desk, before tugging off his hoodie — he presumed that Atsumu didn’t want him wearing the hoodie he’d been cleaning in — and crawling in behind. Atsumu wriggled as Kiyoomi slipped beneath the covers, grumbling at being dislodged, but immediately shoving himself beneath the curly haired man’s chin once he was settled. 

Kiyoomi let his fingers brush through Atsumu’s hair, and Atsumu let out a happy sigh. Kiyoomi shifted, hesitating briefly before he pressed a chaste kiss to Atsumu’s temple. He heard the setter’s breath hitch from behind his mask, and fingers curl in the fabric of his t-shirt.

“You’re warm.” Atsumu mumbled. Kiyoomi let out an amused breath and wrapped an arm around Atsumu’s waist to drag him closer, hearing a soft hitch of breath. “Omi?”

“Mm?”

“I really like ya, Omi.” Kiyoomi let a smile bloom across his face.

“I really like you too, Tsumu.” Kiyoomi replied, feeling Atsumu shift closer, legs slotting between his own. “Go ahead and sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Atsumu hummed in response, and soon all the tension left his body, soft snores leaving his lips.

Kiyoomi woke up a few hours later to the feeling of something tracing his face, and blinked. Atsumu’s face came into view, a soft look on his face as he traced shapes into Kiyoomi’s forehead and cheeks. The blonde offered a soft and shy smile, fingers trailing daringly over Kiyoomi’s lips. The curly haired man pursed his lips, kissing the tips of Atsumu’s fingers, watching as a lovely blush took over.

“What time is it?” Kiyoomi asked, feeling rather groggy.

“Eight in the evening.” Atsumu replied quietly, his eyes half-lit by the setting sun’s rays filtering through the curtains to the bedroom. Kiyoomi yawned, stretching and propped himself up on an elbow. 

“Shit. I didn’t think I’d actually fall asleep.” Kiyoomi rubbed at his eyes. “Do your parents need any more help with things?” Atsumu shook his head.

“They were getting the chikuzenni prepared for a light meal before the toshikoshi soba for midnight.” Atsumu replied, sitting up and letting the blankets pool around his waist. He looked adorable in Kiyoomi’s Black Jackal’s hoodie, and Kiyoomi lifted a finger to brush it against Atsumu’s cheekbones. “Can we stay like this for a little longer?”

Kiyoomi felt his heart melt.

After eating the chikuzenni, everyone settled in the living room to watch old home videos, much to the twins’ chagrin. Atsumu hid his face in the crook of Kiyoomi’s neck for the most of it, letting out embarrassed groans when he felt Kiyoomi’s body shake with laughter. Komori later sent him a photograph of them curled up together on the couch, one of Kiyoomi’s arms slung around Atsumu’s waist as the blonde peeked out from Kiyoomi’s neck, cheeks red beneath the mask as a kiss was pressed to the crown of his head.

Suna and Komori teased Osamu good-naturedly, which caused the darker haired twin to flush, a pout tugging at the corners of his lips until his boyfriends kissed it away. Kiyoomi glanced down to see Atsumu glancing over at the trio, an almost wistful look in his eyes. Kiyoomi ruffled Atsumu’s hair, and the little furrow to Atsumu’s brow disappeared.

As midnight approached, everyone migrated to the snow-free porch, spreading out a few picnic blankets and chairs, a small lacquered box of fruits and small cakes laid out with thermoses of piping hot tea as they carefully cradled their hot bowls of soba. The osechi ryori was all prepared, ready to be eaten on New Year's Day, so everyone could relax.

Kiyoomi set aside his empty bowl, and Atsumu finished his soon after, lifting the bowl to his lips to drink the broth. Kiyoomi offered Atsumu a handkerchief when he was done, and the blonde took it gratefully, wiping his mouth before tucking it in his pocket. Atsumu’s eyes flickered to Kiyoomi, head tilting ever so slightly as it did when he wanted to ask a question but was too timid to do so.

Kiyoomi lifted an arm, blanket draped over his shoulders and Atsumu immediately snuggled into his side, sighing softly. Kiyoomi’s eyes drifted to the sky, where there were already a few stray fireworks being set off by eager neighbours.

“Ten minutes!” Hana trilled, Takao barking as more fireworks crackled overhead. Miso was curled up by Kiyoomi’s other side, beneath the blanket with her fur brushing the curly haired man’s wrist. Komori had complained several times that his cat loved Kiyoomi more than Komori himself. 

Kiyoomi felt Atsumu shuffle closer, resting his head on the outside hitter’s shoulder. Atsumu had taken off his mask to eat, and hadn’t put it back on, letting his breath curl in the air like translucent white smoke. Kiyoomi reached forward to snag a small square of sponge cake with cream sandwiched in the middle and popped it into his mouth, humming softly at the sweet treat. Atsumu took a toothpick and gave Kiyoomi a rather dirty look, before stabbing it into a slice of mango, piercing a strawberry before popping both pieces of fruit into his mouth.

“Hey, Tsumu?” Atsumu blinked, glancing up at Kiyoomi. The old porch light cast a gorgeous glow on Atsumu’s face, and Kiyoomi felt his breath catch as he realized how lucky he was. “I’m glad that I met you.”

The expression that crossed Atsumu’s face was somewhere between wonder and embarrassment.

“Even after everything?” Atsumu asked, voice trembling quietly.

“Even after everything.” Kiyoomi confirmed, reaching out to cup Atsumu’s cheek. “It’s a growing process, remember that, Atsumu. No one’s perfect, everyone has their flaws.” Kiyoomi reminded him, thumb brushing just beneath Atsumu’s cheekbones.

“Omi?” Atsumu breathed. Kiyoomi nodded, tilting Atsumu’s chin up to prompt him to keep going. “I think that I love you.” Kiyoomi felt himself stop breathing, lips parting incredulously at Atsumu’s earnest and vulnerable expression. He forced down the lump in his throat, feeling his eyes prickle with heat.

“Shit, Tsumu. I’ve been in love with you the first time I laid eyes on you.” Kiyoomi confessed, watching as Atsumu’s eyes widened, turning glassy. 

There were a few moments of suspended silence before Atsumu lurched forward, connecting their lips in an awkward but sweet kiss full of yearning, full of where are you and here I am. Kiyoomi could feel Atsumu’s wet lashes brushing against his cheekbones, the hitch of his breath as Kiyoomi’s hand slid to his other cheek, tilting his head up gently.

He faintly heard Komori, Suna and Osamu whooping, laughing aren’t ya supposed to wait until midnight? Atsumu melted into Kiyoomi’s touch, hands coming up to curl his fingers in the fabric of Kiyoomi’s hoodie, letting out a soft whimper as they parted.

Atsumu tucked his head in Kiyoomi’s shoulders, his blush reaching down past the collar of his shirt. Kiyoomi hid his smile in Atsumu’s soft hair as he caught eyes with the trio across from them. Osamu was stuck between looking proud and looking like he was going to cry, Suna had a wry smile on his face and Komori had a huge beaming smile on his face. Kiyoomi mouthed a thank you at them, and threaded his fingers through the back of Atsumu’s hair, urging him to look up as he heard Hana and Kosuke start to count down.

Ten!

“Omi?” 

“Yeah, Tsumu?”

Nine!

“I’m happy.”

“Me too.”

“Thank you.”

Eight!

“Tsumu?”

“Yeah, Omi?”

Seven!

“I love you, Atsumu.”

A soft, choked sob.

“I love you too, Kiyoomi.”

Six!

“Will ya stay with me?”

“I’ll stay with you, I promise. For however long you’ll let me.”

Five!

“What if it’s forever?”

“Then I’ll stay with you forever.”

Four!

“Omi?”

“Yes, Tsumu?”

Three!

“Will ya be my boyfriend?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

Two!

“Hey, Tsumu. Happy New Year.”

One! Happy New Year!

As fireworks lit up the sky, Kiyoomi gently reconnected their lips together, feeling sparks burst in the pit of his stomach as he let himself fall into Atsumu’s gentle and sweet embrace, finally feeling as if he’d found his way home.

Where’ve you been this whole time?

Right here, right beside you for as long as I remember and as long as you’ll let me.