Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Atsumu always knew Kiyoomi had his quirks that many on the team would often call ‘weird’ or ‘odd’.

Sure, the behaviour or actions had always conjured some questions in his own mind as well, but it was never something that was off putting. If anything, it was intriguing. 

The way others see himself plague his mind more than he would like to admit. As much as he would like to imagine himself as a suave ladies man, who can smooth talk his way through anything, he knows better. 

He’s clumsy and can be a huge jerk to the people he cares most about. 

The thought of how other people view themselves helps Atsumu divert his own mind from the self deprecating thoughts. 

He wouldn’t necessarily call himself the master of being able to read others but he likes to think he knows people enough. 

People watching and generally just observing the way others interact with the world can give you a lot of intel of how someone might see themselves. Once you finally get to speaking with them and know them on a more personal level you would be surprised by the amount of knowledge you can acquire. 

However, someone he never could quite understand was Sakusa.

Despite him being on the team for over a year now, there were parts of him that Atsumu just couldn’t understand or pin down. Times where Sakusa would act out of character he felt like he had to scratch the whole drawing board of what he previously had for the man. 

Sure, while discovering and peeling back the layers of people you’ll come across things that will feel like it came out of left field but it would make more sense the more you sat with it. In Kiyoomi’s case, the more he sat with it, the more confused he became.

No one knew when it would happen again. The team would forget about it until it happens again. Promptly it would become the topic of gossip until it's forgotten again. It was unpredictable, and had weeks, sometimes months in between each time. 

The rest of the team had mixed opinions on the odd several days they have from Kiyoomi. When they asked Atsumu his opinion on the topic he shut them down, he understood they were asking because of the well known fact he had a crush on the man. 

Atsumu doesn’t dislike it when Kiyoomi is - how the team would say ‘like that’ . However, he also didn’t like the fact that it was even a question. Atsumu likes Kiyoomi. The way he acts on those days is still him, he may not understand the reasoning behind it yet but it doesn’t change his feelings. 

It has happened several times throughout the time he’s been on the team. Everytime it has been slightly alarming, not enough for anyone to make a huge deal or acknowledge directly to him, but enough to where team conversations are held and theories are made up. 

Having a crush on Kiyoomi long before witnessing a moment ‘like that’ was definitely confusing. It gave him a bit of whiplash the first time it happened. 

It was a Monday morning and Atsumu had gotten to the gym at 7:30am to get ready for their regular 8am practice. Usually he would be the first to arrive at such a time but was surprised to see the lights on and doors unlocked. 

Slowly, he opened the door and peeked his head through to look into the gym.

Low and behold, Sakusa was running suicides down the length of the gym by himself. There was sweat dripping from his red face and laboured breaths huffing rhythmically. 

“Yo… Sakusa…” Atsumu spoke over the music playing over the speakers. The sound of sneakers squeaking to a halt echoed through the gym and alert eyes darted in his direction. Quickly the music turned down with the watch Kiyoomi was wearing. 

“It’s twenty to and you're already beat… Sit down for a bit, yeah?” All he got was a curt nod before the music was turned back up and Kiyoomi jogged to the bench to grab a sip of his water.  

As Atsumu was changing his shirt he heard the changing room door creak open and Kiyoomi’s dark hair pop through the crack.

Atsumu gave a simple nod of acknowledgement but was knocked on his ass as he was given a smile (a toothy one!) and a very quick and subtle eyebrow raise. He wasn't sure if that was intentional or not but either way Atsumu swore he was sent to heaven for a quick second and hit his head on the way back down.

His reaction must’ve been noticeable since it made Kiyoomi chuckle. Since that day Atsumu swore there was nothing more holy than the deep vibrations of Sakusa’s chuckle and charmingly crooked top left canine tooth. 

Throughout the practice Kiyoomi had been talking more than they’ve ever heard before. He sat with the team while they got ready despite already being ready himself and struck up conversations and banter with anyone willing so early in the morning. Of course Bokuto flocked to him quickly and they chatted more than Atsumu thought was possible for a monday morning. He was baffled. The rest of the team watched in awe and confusion. 

During practice Kiyoomi kept throwing in strategy suggestions that seemed far fetched and some unreasonable which caused several furrowed brows and confused faces. Covering his tracks, he would save himself by suggesting other things much more reasonable and functional. 

He was putting all his effort into this practice and it was clear to everyone. Coach Foster seemed impressed with the sudden enthusiasm and drive that Sakusa seemed to have adopted over night but something didn’t sit right with Atsumu. 

Kiyoomi was stumbling over his words which was something he never did normally, it was probably due to the way his talking was just generally sped up a bit. It was like he had so much to say but was cursed with having to speak one word at a time. His words were just bursting at the seams to be heard, no matter what order. Atsumu could only imagine what it must sound like in his head. 

Nearing the end of the practice they decided to split the team and scrimmage for half an hour. Kiyoomi started off serving, he was able to pull off two aces with his first serves. Both of the serves were followed by big smiles and high fives from his teammates, rare from Sakusa during practice matches.

The third serve was picked up by Shoyo creating a solid rally, in which they inevitably won. 

The forth serve, however, collided with the net. As soon as the ball hit the floor Kiyoomi angrily cursed under his breath. Well, they assumed it was meant to be under his breath. The whole team heard it. If it was jokingly and light hearted no one really would’ve given it much attention. But when the team saw the seriousness on Kiyoomi’s face… They didn’t laugh. 

Everyone faced Kiyoomi who was clenching his fists tight, teeth grinding with rage and a glare that could kill aimed directly at the ball rolling on the ground. The air felt tense and no one felt as if they could move a muscle. 

Kiyoomi muttered under his breath before raising his voice, “Well, what are you all waiting for? Serve,” 

It was firm and direct and caused everyone to move into positions but no one relaxed. From that point on everyone was on edge. 

Sakusa felt like a ticking time bomb, and the way everyone was acting around him was probably why his mood wasn’t improving. He was irritated and everything that wasn’t in his plan was a trigger for something bigger it seemed. 

The scrimmage felt as if it went on forever but they were finally free and able to do their cool down stretches for the rest of the practice. No one approached Kiyoomi or made an attempt to talk to him. 

Atsumu felt some sort of guilt well up in his chest, he wanted to go up to him. After all, the day had been going so well up until the scrimmage. 

Back in the dressing room Sakusa quickly claimed a shower whilst the rest sat on the benches for a second to cool down. Despite knowing that gossip is juvenile and immature it was difficult not to.

“Sakusa was in a good mood today,” Shoyo said happily, focusing on the more positive part of the day. 

“Yes… Some of his plays suggested were questionable, I genuinely don’t know if he was being serious when pitching them but it was nice to see him interact more with us today. I hope it continues like this,” Meian said with a cautious glance around the room. Everyone was avoiding the topic of the end of practice.

“I wonder why he was all weird at the end today,” Bokuto said blunty. He pulled his shirt over his head and started wiping off his sweat with his towel as the rest of the team looked at him with a deadpan expression, “what?” Without responding everyone left to do their own post practice ritual. 

On the way back to the MSBY dorms Shoyo, Bokuto, Kiyoomi and Atsumu walked together. Sakusa was back to the odd bubbly Kiyoomi they came to meet this morning which caused the other three to give each other subtle questioning looks.

Bokuto didn’t seem to care as he ate up every word Kiyoomi had to say and laughed at every dumb ‘joke’ Kiyoomi told. 

When arriving at the complex there were several boxes stacked at the front door. 

“Woah, whose birthday is it?” Shoyo joked as he picked up a package and read the name on the label, “Omi?” 

“Are these all yours?” Atsumu asked with a slight alarm. 

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Kiyoomi said brightly, “Help me bring these up, will you?” 

The three of them looked at each other with a shrug as Kiyoomi bent down to scoop a couple boxes into his arms and carry them up to his apartment, the other three in tow.

As they entered his place they noted a couple things. One, they’ve never been inside Kiyoomi’s house before. Two, several of these were amazon packages meaning there were probably multiple items per package (just how many things did he buy???). Three, his place was messy but at the same time spotless? 

They placed the boxes on the floor in the living room next to the table.

The table was cluttered with papers, pens and highlighters. All three of them looked at the mess with a curious gaze but tried not to be too nosy since they knew better than to invade Kiyoomi’s privacy. 

“What’s up with all the papers Sakusa?” Shoyo asked the burning question on everyone’s mind. 

“Oh! I was going through some old games over the weekend and last night. I was marking down some play by plays and cool shit both our opponents and us have done. 

“I was playing around with different scenarios and what could’ve been better or what we could improve on. What kind of moves or plays we could add in against certain teams,” there was a pause, but before anyone could speak Sakusa continued.

“I know I haven’t played as many games with you all on this team so I pulled up some games from last season and analyzed plays then. Mostly to see what I could bring to the team and how I could fit,” there were some obvious stumbles and stutters throughout the monologue. He seemed slightly frustrated with how the words kept fumbling but ignored it and kept talking. 

Sakusa shuffled through the piles of paper muttering under his breath before holding out three papers triumphantly, “See! This is what I brought up in the practice this morning! 

“There’s the diagram with the description and all that,” he pointed to the paper and the chicken scratch like handwriting scattered across the pages. 

“Oh, wow…” Bokuto finally said, nodding wearily at the papers. 

“That’s great, Omi… but how much sleep did you get last night? You were at the gym really early.” Atsumu remembered. 

“Oh. Um, not sure? A couple hours. I felt well rested, what does it matter?” he muttered, turning away from the trio. 

“Right, well, we should get going. Bye Sakusa, enjoy opening all your packages!” Hinata said, gesturing to the pile at their feet. 

That perked him back up before they all gave their parting words and Hinata, Atsumu and Bokuto left Sakusa’s room. “Come to mine for a second,” Shoyo said quickly. 

They wordlessly filed into the room and sat around Shoyo’s table as he dumped a bag of trail mix into a bowl in the centre of them. 

“I assume we’re going to talk about whatever that was,” Atsumu spoke first. 

“Kind of hard to ignore… I’ve never seen Sakusa act like that!” Shoyo added. “It kind of reminded me of Bokuto back in high school. Not fully obviously. Just the whole… moody parts and energy to some extent. Today, Sakusa had a lot of high school Bokuto energy,”

Bokuto listened intently to the brain storming Shoyo was putting out, “You’re right actually. Some of his behaviour today reminds me of how I acted then…” with furrowed eyebrows he continued, “You both know that back then I was unmedicated though, right?”

“Medicated?” Both Atsumu and Hinata repeated simultaneously. 

Bokuto chuckled, “Yeah, I have ADHD. It was difficult regulating my emotions, I always felt like I was splitting at the seams with the need to move or do something and getting to sleep could be a nightmare.

“Obviously there’s a lot more to ADHD and I’m not saying Kiyoomi has it but those things in particular seemed very relatable in this sense,” 

“How have we been friends this whole time and I didn’t know you have ADHD?” Shoyo asked, dumbfounded. 

“Shoyo… We can talk about that later…” Atsumu said. He was too focused on trying to wrap his head around Sakusa having ADHD, it didn’t seem like it made sense? But then again, he wasn’t an expert.

 “So, say Sakusa has ADHD, wouldn’t you think it’s a bit late for it to, like, start? Like… I always thought the onset of ADHD was young…” 

“ADHD isn’t a mental illness, which I think you’re mistaken for ‘tsumu. It's a neurodevelopmental disorder, you’re born with it and it presents from childhood. Not everyone is diagnosed in their childhood, I wasn't diagnosed until the last year of high school - when Akaashi suggested I look into it when I expressed I was struggling,”

“So it would be odd for him to suddenly start acting like this if it was ADHD? Like, he should’ve been acting like this for as long as we’ve known him if that was the case?” The questions rolled off Atsumu’s tongue with urgency.

 He wanted to know all of the answers, he hated being left in the dark. 

“Well… It’s hard to say. I’m not an expert. I’m just someone with lifetime experience,” Bokuto laughed, “everyone is different, especially with how their symptoms present. If he is undiagnosed and untreated, with what I know, I think we would’ve seen more days with Kiyoomi as he was today. He could also just be good at masking his symptoms on a day to day basis but today was just too much or something.

“Another possibility is that we’ve always known him when he was medicated. Maybe he stopped taking his medication for some reason and things are kind of just flying off the handle,” The other two men stared at Bokuto as if he were the most intelligent human being they’ve ever come across. 

They made a plan to keep an eye out for Kiyoomi and only bring it up to him if things seem to be going down a negative path. One Bokuto had warned them about. Burn out, exhaustion, over focusing on the negatives and most of all making sure it doesn’t negatively impact his gameplay.

Tuesday was good. Kiyoomi was early again, stretching as the team filed into the dressing room. The day kicked off much like Monday, he was getting along well, happy, his energy was high and everything seemed fine. Nothing seemed to tick him off like the day before. He was a bit clumsier, tripping, fumbling the ball… It didn’t seem to bother him to the point of anger though, it only embarrassed him. Atsumu kind of liked the bashful look on his face. 

Overall Tuesday was good. Kiyoomi seemed happier which made Atsumu happy. What more could he ask for but a smiley Kiyoomi?

When Wednesday rolled around Atsumu got to the gym with a skip in his step. He was excited to see Kiyoomi, excited to see what dumb jokes he would say to try and make people laugh. Maybe they’ll hear more off handed thoughts he verbalized that would make one wish they could read minds for the sole entertainment to hear those kinds of strange prompts.

 Kiyoomi was happier than his usual self but not as cheerful as the previous days, Atsumu noticed right off the bat. 

As the practice progressed he would be a liar if he said he wasn’t overly focused on Kiyoomi. It seems he might have jinxed it with his hopeful thinking as he walked to the gym this morning. 

Half way through the practice Kiyoomi was snapping at little mistakes others made, notably him since he was his setter unfortunately. But after the outbursts he would cool down and somehow get back to being chummy with the rest of the team. 

It would happen again and again, like a broken record, Atsumu could barely keep up. 

The team felt on edge around Sakusa the whole day. As if one slip up would be the final blow that would break him and be irreparable. He always bounced back though, the team was relieved but worried because they didn’t know what the fuck was going on. 

Back in the dressing room when Kiyoomi was in the shower Inunaki broke the silence, “Finally I feel like I can breathe without being scolded for doing it wrong,” It was delivered as a joke but Atsumu felt his skin crawl with the need to defend his teammate. 

Before he could say anything their captain spoke clearly and firmly, “I understand that we all felt a bit on edge today. Hopefully it was just a bad day and we can move past this. If it continues I will talk to him but for now let’s try to understand that people deal with their own struggles in different ways. 

“Unfortunately it can come out on those around us, but if it escalates it will be taken care of,” Meian concluded. “Keep in mind that gossip will not be tolerated, alright? Thank you,” Everyone muttered an ‘okay’ before turning to do their own thing. 

A lot has happened since the first time Atsumu and the team have experienced a cluster of days like that exhibited by Kiyoomi. The last time it happened, quite frankly, was one of the best days of Atsumu’s life. 

It was a Saturday night and the whole team had gone out to a local bar after a scrimmage game against a local lower division team. A ‘few’ drinks had been consumed and it was quite rowdy to say the least. 

It was rare that Kiyoomi came out with them let alone actually partake in drinking with them. So when he agreed with the most sincere smile that reached his eyes and nearly gave Atsumu a heart attack it was hard to turn down shots after shots he offered to take with him. 

Atsumu would never turn down a free shot with the man who has been infiltrating his mind like crazy lately. Kiyoomi has been paying for several rounds for the whole table, to the point Atsumu would be scared to even look at his credit card statement the next morning. 

Pushing those thoughts aside he focused his mind back to the heat resting against his right arm, “Are you okay?” It was slurred but coherent enough to get the point across. Kiyoomi pushed off of him only to face him with a gaze that almost knocked him on his ass. 

“Come back to my place,” he said firmly, confidently. Without another word Atsumu nodded. 

The morning after, Atsumu woke up in an empty bed with ruffled bed sheets and a wicked headache. He sat up quickly, regretfully, and looked around the room.

The curtains were dark, blocking the light, his clothes were laid out at the foot of the bed. He shut his eyes for a second and took a couple deep breaths, processing the fact that he had slept with Sakusa Kiyoomi. The man he had started to grow feelings for. And he doesn’t remember it. 

He reached over on the side table for his phone, the time reading 7:45am. Jesus, it was too early for a hangover on a Sunday. Ignoring the messages he received from friends he opened a chat with his brother. 

[Atsumu]: ur gonna fucking kill me 

After sending the message he decided to get up and get dressed. Kiyoomi was In the living room drinking what smells like coffee from a mug with the university he graduated from plastered on the side. 

“Goodmorning,” Kiyoomi said with a small smile. 

“Uh, hey,” 

“Some painkillers next to the sink for you with a clean glass. Didn’t think you’d be up so early. Do you want me to make you something?” 

Atsumu paused, processing everything, his brain felt like mush. Why was everything so casual? 

“Uh, I think I should head out, yeah?” As he swallowed down the painkillers and turned around Kiyoomi was standing behind him leaning on the counter. Fuck, he moved so quietly. 

There was a frown on his face, “What do you remember from last night?” Avoiding eye contact at all costs Atsumu stuttered and stumbled trying to find his words, “Sit down?” Kiyoomi interrupted, gesturing to the chair. 

“I know we drank a lot last night. It might not have been ideal, but things did happen and I remember quite a bit. Tell me what you remember so we can talk about it,” 

Atsumu pressed his face into his palms, “Nuthin,” as he rubbed his eyes.

“Oh, okay. Um. So we had sex, as I’m sure you’ve deduced. You bottomed,” Kiyoomi threw in for the hell of it. Atsumu groaned in embarrassment, “I won’t go into too many details since you seem clearly too embarrassed. 

“Afterwards, we just talked. You told me how you have been thinking about that for a while. I asked you if you would be interested in going on a date sometime, you agreed, telling me you had a crush on me for quote ‘years and years’... If you want to retract anything you can tell me now, that’s okay,” 

Atsumu peeked through his fingers to see a soft smile looking back at him, his stomach flipped and he felt a wave of warmth flood his face. “Ugh… but no, I don’t take anythin' back,” He stood abruptly, “I will be leaving now though, before I make more embarrassin' comments. Bye,” 

Before Kiyoomi could even say goodbye Atsumu darted out of the door, forgoing his shoes and anything else he may have forgotten. 

After Atsumu left Kiyoomi made his way to his washroom. He opened his cupboard and stared at the pill bottles lined up one by one, only two with labels and his name. Four stood labelless, while two ‘vitamin’ bottles hid other dirty secrets. He reached for one of the labelless pill bottles and popped off the top. Several pills rattled around as he poured out one of them into the palm of his hand. 

In the drawer next to his right hip he pulled out a singular razor blade. He left his bathroom with a pill in one hand and a razor blade in the other. Making his way to his bedroom he found his clean rolling tray and containers of pre cut paper straws. Muscle memory guided him through the next steps. 

Cut, crush, sniff.

He put aside the other half of the pill for now and he stood up tilting his head up slightly. He felt giddy thinking about the high before it even kicked in, despite how silly it sounded. 

Grabbing a small blanket and a pack of cigarettes he made his way to the balcony. One of the few features of the condo that sold it for him.

It was a genuinely difficult decision for him to make, live in the MSBY dorms, or get a place of his own. Living here spared him the pain of having to look through many different websites and compare prices between places, plus this was already furnished with decent enough furniture.

On the down side there were more opportunities for his nosy teammates to come over and snoop through his stuff. Or they could come for a surprise visit when he was not in his right mind and completely blow the cover of his bad habit. 

On the balcony he had a small outdoor table with an ashtray and two chairs, though the second is rarely occupied. 

He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and lit up a cigarette whilst looking down at the pedestrians going about their mornings. He was thankful that his balcony faced the back of the building rather than the entrance. 

It would be unfortunate if one of the boys were to find out about his smoking habit by witnessing him having a solitary smoke sesh on the balcony wrapped in a blanket, as he - unknowingly to them -  waited for his Oxy to kick in. 

Just as his cigarette was getting to the end he started feeling the familiar warmth at the base of his skull. He closed his eyes into the feeling, letting the feeling consume him as he flicked the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray.

Propping one knee onto the seat and resting his arm and head on it he held himself contently. Relishing in the way his guilty pleasures washed over him, making him focus solely on the present moment. He felt the first itch tickle at his nose, his stomach flipped and flooded with warmth. He soon started to feel the itchiness spread, so he scratched. 

 His spine tingled as he stretched his whole body out as if he were a cat on its back. God, what a feeling that would be, he thought. Splayed out in the sunlight, someone scratching all the right places, this feeling of pure joy and bliss. There is nothing he could think of that could beat that. 

He reentered his condo with a content, relaxed smile. After satisfying his thirst he retrieved the phone laying idle on the living room table. He found three unread messages. One from Atsumu and two from his cousin, Komori. 

[Atsumu]: left my shoes :( I’ll pick them up later today lol 

Sakusa scoffed. 

[Komori]: hey man, how've you been?

[Komori]:  FaceTime later? 

[Sakusa]: Sure, noon? 

He waited for a confirmation which came in quickly after he sent the text before heading to the bathroom and turning on the shower. 

Showers felt the best when he was high. Despite not fully processing the heat of the water, the sensation alone of it hitting his skin was enough to have him standing there for what felt like hours. His skin was red when he got out, he laughed wiping the steam from the mirror, he felt like a lobster. 

When noon rolled around he had his phone set up on the living room table and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he sat on the couch. His phone rang five minutes after twelve. 

Motoya arguably knew the most about Kiyoomi. He might not have been there to witness everything that happened in college but he had his ways of getting Kiyoomi to speak. Kiyoomi eventually gave up on trying to keep major events or drama from Motoya because he would always find a way to pry.  

So, when it came to telling his cousin about Atsumu… The story spilled quite easily, Kiyoomi was excited to talk about it. Motoya listened to Kiyoomi rant about how pretty ‘Miya’ looked at the bar, all week he looked extra radiant, glowing. 

“I just don’t understand how he’s so-” Kiyoomi threw his head back groaning in frustration, “so hot. I can’t believe I fuckin’ bagged him. I just had this feeling in my chest to just blurt it out, ask him to come home with me. I was drunk, yes, but it was like all my yearning just reached out for him at that moment and I just said it and didn’t look back.

“God, his lips? Motoya… I- good lord. It was my first time topping in so long too, god his reactions were to die for. Literally better than what I ever imagined,” 

“Alright alright! I don’t want to hear anymore! Enough,” Motoya covered his ears with his hands as he had his phone propped up on something. Kiyoomi laughed and leaned back into the couch. Despite Komori having seen Kiyoomi through every mood, altered state of mind, etc. he sucked at knowing and identifying them. He knew something wasn’t quite right but he just didn’t know what. 

Sometimes his moods would come across as a bad high, or a good high… Sometimes his moods just seemed like come downs. He never knew when Kiyoomi was influenced by the chemicals he ingested or by the natural chemical imbalance in his brain.  

Even though Kiyoomi told him a lot, there were some things he was reluctant to share. When he was actively high or doing drugs he would never let Motoya know. If he was consciously going through a difficult time he would wait until it passed before reaching out. It wasn’t as if he was scared that Motoya would hardcore judge him and never speak to him again… He would’ve done that already if he was going to. 

Kiyoomi already feels as if his life is a burden on Komori. Adding any more stress or letting him in on how he’s actually doing just doesn’t feel worth it. 

He worried about him enough as is. If Motoya thought he was doing well, he could appear well enough for the time being. 

Chapter Text

“Alright everyone. Surprise drug tests. You know the drill. Find the container with your name and fill it to the mark - preferably with mid stream urine,” Meian said, pushing a cart with urine sample containers. 

Everyone walked over to the cart and got their container. No one looked anxious or particularly nervous about the test, but Sakusa felt as if his whole world was crumbling.

He usually had a back up plan for when they needed to provide urine samples, a friend of his with clean urine that he kept for surprises like this. 

Alas, he wasn’t prepared this time.

His friend was out of town and usually Sakusa would throw out the frozen urine samples after a few months and ask for a refresher to store. He threw them out before asking this time around. His friend had forgotten to tell him about his trip to out of town. Just his luck.

Kiyoomi looked over at Atsumu who was sitting on the bench texting nonchalantly, his own empty container next to him. 

Desperate times… “Atsumu,” he mumbled, walking up to him. Atsumu looked up inquisitively, “I need your piss,” Atsumu’s face completely fell, the expressions cycled through, disgust, confusion and most of all, worry. 

Before the blonde could ask why he spoke again, “I’ll explain after practice just, please?” 

“Omi… I can’t do that… That’s wrong, illegal, probably?” Atsumu whispered, looking around to make sure no one was listening. 

Kiyoomi put his hand up to his face and under his breath muttered, “Fuck, might as well just resign then,” he turned to his locker and opened it up, “Let’s make the last practice worth it then, Miya,” 

“Omi… Stop that.” Atsumu stood up behind him. He ran a hand through his hair, looking around nervously, “Fuck, fine. I expect an explanation after this,” hastily, Atsumu grabbed the container out of Kiyoomi's hand, “I’ll leave it behind the toilet in the second stall. Go in right after me, got it?” Kiyoomi nodded and watched Atsumu walk off to the washrooms. 

He felt bad for manipulating the man he was basically dating now. It’s been three weeks since they’ve slept together, they’ve been taking it slowly. They’ve been on several dates but haven’t yet made anything official.

But this was his job that was on the line. Everything he’s worked for. He basically did the impossible to get where he was today. He couldn’t have everything ripped away from him from a stupid surprise drug test. Kiyoomi walked over to the washrooms in time to see Atsumu walk out of the stall. Kiyoomi tried to give him a look of gratitude but Atsumu avoided eyes at all costs. The cold attitude persisted all throughout practice unless it was dire to their gameplay. 

Once they got back to the apartment complex Atsumu wordlessly followed Kiyoomi to his place. Once inside Atsumu sat at the table and waited for an explanation. “I’m sorry, Atsumu. I panicked. I usually have a back up plan for that but I wasn’t ready this time,”

“What drugs are ya doin’?” Atsumu asked bluntly.

“My prescription? It’s none of your business what my medication is,” Kiyoomi said defensively.

“If it’s medication why can’t ya just tell them that. That’s what Bokuto does for his ADHD meds,” Atsumu pointed out. 

Kiyoomi clenched his jaw, trying to calm his nerves and anger, “I can’t. I would get fired, Miya. You wouldn’t understand. I have worked my ass off to get here. I’ve dealt with things you couldn’t imagine.”

“Okay? What does that have to do with you using prescription medication then? If yer doctor prescribed them to you I don’t understand the issue?” 

Kiyoomi stood up and started scratching at his hairline, facing away from Atsumu. His anger was boiling over but he had to stay calm for a bit longer, just a little longer before he could go to his medicine cabinet and… 

He took a deep breath before turning to face Atsumu again, placing his hands on the table, “People don’t like hiring the mentally ill. I’m not going to tell them my issues just so they can deem me unable to play. The medications I'm on can cause false positives. I’m not taking that risk. I’m sorry I dragged you into this, alright?”

“Nothing good ever comes from hiding this kind of shit, man. You’re better than this, I know you are. I don’t just fall for anyone, Sakusa,” He stood up and made his way towards the door, “Figure your shit out before you even think about manipulating me like that again,” He left quickly, not wanting to see Kiyoomi’s reaction. 

The confrontation had Atsumu buzzing with adrenaline. He he always felt a surge of energy whenever he had to say anything straight up. He flip flopped between whether or not he liked the feeling. On one hand he felt proud of himself for standing up for himself and speaking his truth, on the other he didn't like knowing others might feel hurt. 

He texted Bokuto and Hinata to ask if they were free to meet up at his place. Earlier they mentioned they were going home so he was pretty sure he wasn’t interrupting anything. Soon after the texts were sent he heard a series of knocks on his door. 

“Bo, if you knew what kinda meds Sakusa was on, would ya be able to tell if he had ADHD?” 

“Well, if you knew what kind of meds he’s on you’d probably be able to get a better idea of what he might be dealing with,” He shrugged, eating an orange he found rummaging through Atsumu’s fridge. 

“Do you know a lot about meds?”

“I personally don’t but Keiji does. He’s why I know so much about mental disorders and stuff,”  

“Akaashi’s a genius,” Shoyo mumbled into the cabinet he had his head shoved into. 

“He is! I could listen to him talk all day! He loves talking about all the stuff that interests him, even if half of it makes no sense to me. Seeing the way he gets excited to talk about his interests is so refreshing,” Koutarou sighed, “Anyway, he knows a lot about psychology because he took several courses in college,”

“Oh! Why haven’t you just asked him to, like, diagnose him then!” Shoyo suggested.

“Uh, wouldn’t that be unethical or somethin’,” Atsumu chimed in, biting his nails. 

Bokuto nodded, “Yeah, probably. It’s also hard to diagnose someone without getting to know what’s actually going through their mind and their train of thought,”

“Doesn’t Sakusa just have OCD?” Shoyo asked, flopping down on the couch next to Bokuto. Atsumu shrugged. 

“We can’t say that for certain, OCD is complex and more than what you guys are probably associating it with. Keiji probably doesn’t strike you as someone with OCD, but he’s got it. He’s pretty different in terms of habits compared to Sakusa, wouldn’t you think?”

“Wait, Akaashi has OCD?” Atsumu sat up straight in the lounge chair across from the couch. 

“Yep. You really can’t always tell from observation. Won’t get too into it but... I can get him to come talk to you guys about all this instead of me. Maybe he’ll be better at answering your questions, especially with Sakusa, I can call him,”

Before anyone could say anything Bokuto pulled out his phone and dialled his fiancé. The phone was placed on speaker for everyone to hear when a new voice greeted with a simple, “Hi Kou,” 

“Keiji! Want to come educate Atsumu, Shoyo and I about mental health stuff?” 

The shuffling on the other end of the phone paused, “Why?” 

“Is it a crime to want to better our understanding of the complex nature of our society's psychology and how people navigate through the world differently than us?” A faceless sigh was heard, the trio silently laughed as Keiji begrudgingly agreed, “We’re at Atsumu’s place,” They hung up and waited a few minutes as Keiji was only down the hall at Bokuto’s place. 

“So what’s this really about?” He inquired once settled in with a glass of water.

“Should we tell him everything?” Shoyo whispered indiscreetly. 

Atsumu rolled his eyes, “We kind of have to now. So, Sakusa, as you're probably aware, is not…” He paused, not knowing how to end that particular sentence in a politically correct way.

“Neurotypical, maybe… Possibly? Or might struggle with some mental health issues? This is where you come in,” Bokuto said with a sweet smile. 

“Alright… And why do you think psychoanalyzing one of your friends without their knowledge or consent is a good idea?” He pressed.

Atsumu and Hinata tensed, feeling as if they were being scolded by their teacher.

Bokuto held a calm hand up to them in reassurance, “In case there was anything we can do to help make things easier for him. We know he likes his privacy and the likelihood of him opening up about such things would be slim. So maybe if we could understand the things he does and maybe figure out why… We could help him indirectly,” 

Keiji nodded slowly, “I hope you actually do, rather than just saying so. Now, tell me what you’re all thinking,” 

“We’re thinking ADHD like Bo!” Shoyo said quickly. 

Akaashi made a face of confusion, “Reasons?” They listed off their reasons and recalled all the days where Kiyoomi had been like that. Akaashi listened intently and nodded slowly, taking everything in.

 “Okay… These times are occasional though, you’ve mentioned? Sometimes months in between?” 

“Whadda think doc?” Atsumu said, jokingly.

“They sound episodic. Sakusa doesn’t strike me as the kind to often go off his meds if that’s your main theory of why he’s only like that sometimes,” Akaashi scratched his forehead in thought, “Do you know if he’s ever had a depressive episode? Maybe missed several days of volleyball for blurry reasons?” 

“Everyone’s depressed nowadays, Keiji,” Atsumu scoffed. 

The comment received an unimpressed look, “A diagnosable depressive episode is different from having occasional low mood. People use the word depressed too carelessly,” Atsumu looked away, uncomfortable with the scolding he received. Maybe he should be more careful with his words. 

“Sometimes it seems like Sakusa is more depressed than usual. Like, he usually looks down, but sometimes he looks… extra down? More withdrawn, I guess?” Shoyo remarked. 

“Okay… Well, it's hard to say without talking to him, honestly. He knows himself best and what's going on, it can be hard to tell from an outside perspective,” 

“Right! Like what Bokuto said about your OCD!” Shoyo said.

Akaashi looked shocked and slightly unimpressed, avoiding Bokuto’s face he responded awkwardly, “... Right,” 

Atsumu felt the tension. Obviously Akaashi didn't know or wasn’t comfortable with Bokuto talking about his OCD to others, but he was just too curious about the disorder to leave it at that. It was out in the open now anyway.

“If you don’t mind me asking… Bokuto said that we shouldn’t assume Omi has OCD. What do you think about Kiyoomi and OCD, you’ve seen his… ways? And you clearly know a lot about the disorder, first hand,”

Akaashi thought for a while, “Well. OCD is an anxiety disorder so without knowing Sakusa’s mindset and the way his brain is working before engaging in the things you all might think are compulsions it’s hard to say whether or not it’s OCD. It’s possible he does but it’s possible anyone does. Most times you can’t tell when someone has OCD unless you have them open up,” 

“Sorry, this probably sounds stupid but what’s it like?” Atsumu asked. He couldn't help the creeping need to know. He had an urge to go learn every mental health diagnosis there was so he could understand, he was so curious. 

“Well… In general OCD is the anxiety and obsession one feels from intrusive thoughts, feelings, urges… Since all of them are unwanted or unpleasant to some degree - it causes the mind to attach to the thought and results in compulsions to temporarily relieve the distress. 

“Most people have intrusive thoughts but the reaction is where the disorder lies. Obsessions are relentless. Think of some of the worst things you can imagine. Things you would never want to do to another person or have happened to you. Now, imagine going through your day and this horrible thought comes up out of nowhere or you see something that's related and triggers it. Some of us can push it away, thinking ‘it’s just a thought, it won’t happen’...

“For someone with OCD, our mind attaches to the thought. We give it meaning and we start to believe that there’s a possibility it will happen if we don’t do something to stop it. That’s where the compulsions come in. 

“Compulsions can be anything that are done to get the sense of relief from anxiety. In reality it just reinforces the cycle. Compulsions are repetitive and disruptive, physically or mentally,” He shrugged. Shoyo and Atsumu listen intently as new information floods their ears. 

“Do you mind talking about your obsessions?” Akaashi looked at Bokuto for reassurance before divulging some information on his disorder. 

While Akaashi spoke on his experiences Atsumu listened and tried to find any similarities between him and Kiyoomi. He knew it was unfair to compare since Akaashi was adamant on stressing the fact that it looked different for everyone but his mind was swimming with Kiyoomi, trying to connect him to anything to keep him in the conversation. 

When he finished his monologue Atsumu found a couple similarities but some may have been a bit of a stretch to try and fit a narrative. In conclusion, he still didn’t know if Kiyoomi had OCD. But now he had a new interest in researching different disorders. 

“Wow, that sounds… a lot worse than what people make it out to be… Do you take medication?” Atsumu segwayed into his next question. He still wanted to get down to the bottom of the whole medication conflict. 

“I do,” 

“If I find out what medication Sakusa is on do you think you’d be able to tell what he might be dealing with?” 

Akaashi shrugged, “I think I might have an idea already. I don’t want to say unless I’m wrong but if I knew the medication it would definitely be a hint. Especially if it’s what I think,” 

“Say less,” 

“I don’t condone sneaking through people's things, Atsumu,” he sighed. It reminded him of the sigh his mother would give disapprovingly when he would come home covered in mud as a kid.

“It’s so we can better help him though,” he whined. 

“Bokuto said you two were dating now, right?” Atsumu shrugged, “He might start opening up to you soon. Patience is probably your best bet. 

“You can always ask him if there’s anything you can do to help him through a rough time. Or if there’s anything he’s dealing with. Offering a hand and asking him to spill all his secrets don’t have to be synonymous,” Bokuto had shut his eyes and nodded in agreement as Keiji talked and played with his hair.

“Wow, Akaashi, is so philosophical,” Shoyo muttered in amazement. “You should be my life guru. Teach me all the wisdom you possess!” 

“I hardly said anything groundbreaking, Shoyo,” Akaashi scoffed.

“Atsumu, why were you and Sakusa all weird today at practice?” Hinata recalled, changing the topic. 

Atsumu froze, he saw all eyes on him and quickly needed to come up with how to manoeuvre his way through the story. He was always the worst at trying to get away with lying or partial truths with his mom when he was younger. 

He knew he had to avoid mentioning Sakusa asking for his urine so he could pass his drug test. The thing that bothered him the most with the whole situation was the manipulation and how quickly Kiyoomi resorted to it. 

If he were to tell them he was upset that Kiyoomi manipulated him into doing something for him, would that paint Kiyoomi as a terrible person? He didn’t want his friends turning on whom he was going on dates with, almost officially dating, let alone the fact that they were all teammates. If he were too vague about the manipulation then their minds would probably go to worse scenarios then what actually happened.

If what Sakusa was telling him was true, then part of him understood why he went to extremes to do what he did.

The more critical side of him questions if he really does understand or he’s just falling for the manipulation that was set up for him. He was hesitant to verbalize any of the sort because he didn’t want to sound like the victim of some master manipulation scheme. He didn’t want to sound like he was dumb enough to fall for it. 

“Uh… We got into a small argument…” he started slowly, “I thought… something… was unfair? But he convinced me to compromise… yeah. I compromised… and I was just upset about the way we came to the compromise…” He spoke cryptically, observing everyones reactions.

They all seemed suspicious about what nonsense Atsumu was spewing but kept their mouths shut waiting for him to save whatever he was trying to say. “That’s why we were tense… Through practice. 

“We went back to his place after practice, before I called you over here. We argued again, he went on about being mentally ill. Which I think was kind of scummy?” Atsumu said, before he registered who he was saying this in front of, “Sorry, Akaashi, I don’t mean to offen-”

“Hey,” He interrupted softly but firmly, “Don’t apologize. You’re allowed to have your opinions and feelings. If you don’t mind me Interrupting, I’ve heard a lot of people blame their issues on their mental illness. It can be very hard for a partner to hear or be with because of it and that's understandable. 

“I think It’s also important to understand that when you are with someone with a mental illness they will have symptoms. And though this doesn’t excuse their actions for being ‘scummy’ or doing shitty things you should be aware that their actions might be influenced by these symptoms and it could be a sign they’re in a bad place. It’s important to know what you’re working with so you can make the proper moves and educated responses. 

“At the end of the day, you have to do what's best for you. If you know you can’t handle it, it’s not selfish to prioritize your own wellbeing. You can’t go into a relationship thinking you’ll save them because you’ll get hurt. However, you can go into the relationship with knowledge about their struggles and tools to help them when they might need it. Knowing what helps them in those times of crisis is a huge must when it comes to dealing with this stuff. 

“You have to get to that stage of openness first, of course.”

“Yeah… Damn…” Atsumu said, breathless, as if he was the one speaking. 

“Sorry, that went on for longer than intended,” 

“I’ve never heard Akaashi talk as much as today,” Hinata said, astonished. 

“Isn’t it captivating?” Bokuto chimed in. Which quickly earned him a soft slap on the head. 

“Okay, he was mentioning his mental illness in the midst of the fight?” Akaashi returned to the conversation. 

“Right… He mentioned it vaguely. Then I said some shit like he was ‘better than this’, and I don’t just fall for anyone and that he should ‘figure his shit out’ before I left and texted y’all,” 

“Oh. Shit.” Shoyo sat with his hands covering his mouth, elbows on his knees. He was on the edge of his seat as if he were watching an intense movie.

“Whatcha gonna do now?” Bokuto asked. Atsumu sighed and shrunk into the couch hoping it would swallow him whole. A look of pity from all parties was sent his way.

“Sulk,”

“Well, at least there are oreos?” 

A couple hours passed before Atsumu decided to shoo them out for the night. They didn’t have much else to contribute to the conversation. None of their suggestions seemed like they would help. Atsumu ultimately made them stop talking about it and told them he’d figure something out on his own. 

As Akaashi was leaving he pulled the blonde to the side, “You have my cell number, right? If you ever want to talk about the situation without a filter or fear of judgement you can text me anytime,” 

The offer was laid out on the table so kindly it was hard not to take into consideration. There was nothing that made him think that Akaashi of all people would judge or tell anyone else his business, “Thank you, I just might,” Atsumu smiled as he closed the door behind them. 

As he walked back to his bedroom to get ready for the night he felt his fingers buzzing for his laptop. He wanted to know everything. The only issue was that he didn't know what to look up.  How was he supposed to help if he didn't know what to look out for? 

Chapter Text

Kiyoomi started smoking weed his first year of high school. He had a friend who knew a dealer that had no issues selling to underage kids. 

It was a slow ascent into a habitual high. He wasn’t that close to the friend, they only really hung out often they could smoke weed together. He was the only person who knew about Kiyoomi smoking weed or consuming edibles. 

He kept it a secret from Motoya for as long as he could. He knew how his cousin felt about drugs. He had a complicated family history and drugs are something he always looked down upon. If Komori found out about his weed consumption he thinks he would crumble under the disapproving look on his face. 

At the beginning of second year he started getting high anytime he thought he logically could. This meant, on the way home from volleyball he would pull out his rigged up smell proof baggie and light a joint and stay high until his head hit the pillow. He learned how to function under the influence, eventually it became his ideal way of navigating the world. 

The combination of his new antidepressants for his depression and anxiety with the weed he was smoking, what could go wrong? He was getting his work done on time so there was no issue. The atypical antidepressants he started after cycling through several SSRI‘s (that didn’t work for shit) didn’t cause any weight gain, which was helpful for volleyball and the binge eating he struggled with while high. Everything was good. 

So good, he was convinced that he functioned better while high. Anything he did, he could do better with a little buzz. So, the first two weeks of year three Kiyoomi felt like he couldn’t go an hour without being high. 

He woke up and lit a joint. At school he had his electronic weed vape pen to up his high in the bathroom whenever he needed. Sometimes on his walk home he would pop a little gummy in his mouth and allow it to take effect. Other days he would get home and use his bong until he coughed his lungs out.

Motoya had started to notice something different about Kiyoomi. He was less anxious during school, more carefree… But his plays were off, his grades were descending, something needed to be addressed. The only issue was that something had already been addressed. He thought everything would’ve been better by now.

The summer before year three, Kiyoomi had a hypomanic episode. During that week and a half (give or take a few days), it was clear to Komori that something was off. When confronted about it Kiyoomi insisted everything was fine. Better than fine actually, he finally beat his mental illness. He was now free to do anything he wanted! He was happy for once, not riddled with anxiety… Just like that, overnight. 

When Motoya decided his best bet was to simply go along with it he found out that Kiyoomi had been strangely obsessed with Kpop. He knew of the man's love of some idol groups and the music but not to the extent of learning dances, and the language. 

When Kiyoomi busted out music and confidently showed him all the dances he learnt to all the songs he could now sing and rap in fluent korean he basically sat through a personal concert. Motoya stared in absolute awe. He didn’t understand how he was able to do all of this in a week. It didn’t seem possible. 

At the end of the impromptu concert Kiyoomi made up his mind, he was going to apply to be an idol. He submitted an application online which happened to be open, along with in person auditions for a certain company happening in a couple days, perfect. 

A diagnosis of Bipolar 2 and a couple new prescriptions later, Motoya felt like he solved everything. 

It wasn’t until he walked over to the Sakusa household unannounced one day that he realized he had missed something. With a key that was given to him months ago he walked into the house and made his way to Kiyoomi’s room. The home was big, leaving Kiyoomi’s room alone at the end of a hall. 

He knocked on the door to not disrupt whatever Kiyoomi got up to and quickly heard a clatter followed by coughing and scrambling on the other side, “Uh, who is it?” Kiyoomi’s voice boomed through the door.

“It’s me, your cousin…” 

A couple seconds passed before the door creaked open and Kiyoomi’s head poked out. His eyes were quite bloodshot and tired looking. After seeing Motoya was the only one in the hallway the door opened and he was dragged in by the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Holy shit,” Komori coughed. The smell of cannabis filled his lungs. He looked around to see glass jars on his dresser filled with green buds and a couple bongs along with one next to his bed which looks like it was just used. There was an ashtray on the bedside table near the open window with cigarette butts and the ends of joints. 

“What the fu-”

“Why are you here?” Kiyoomi cut him off. 

“I came to ask why you’ve been off your game recently but I seem to have found the answer. You’re a fucking stoner?” Motoya grimaced. 

“Stoner is an over exagger-”

“Is it? Because I think it actually make a lot of fucking sense. Why are you ruining your future like this?”

“You’re being dramatic,” 

“Dude. No offence but you’ve been playing like shit lately. Everyone notices. You keep this up and the colleges that had their eyes on you will lose interest. Also, your grades? It’s not a secret that you’ve been slipping,”

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, “I doubt this is why,”

“What do you think it is then? You can’t blame your bipolar for this. You’ve had the depression part for like your whole life and been fine for school work and volleyball. You’re not hypomanic now so I don't see how it could be the issue!” Motoya was fuming, he couldn’t believe Sakusa’s disregard for his own future. 

“First of all, don’t start talking to me like you know anything about what it’s like to be diagnosed with this kind of shit. Second, I’ve just been put on stupid ass medications that I don’t want to fucking be on for a diagnosis that I didn’t know existed until recently. 

“In case you didn’t know, since you seem to be the expert on bipolar now, after a manic episode, depressive episodes fucking suck. So, sorry if smoking a little fucking weed is the only way I can manage getting out of bed in the morning without wanting to blow my brains out. I’ll cut down on the weed if you get off my damn back.” Kiyoomi stood his ground, before escorting Motoya out. They were tense for the following week before things naturally healed. Neither really brought up the fight again, they simply lived with the knowledge. 

However, after the conversation Kiyoomi did ban any and all recreational drug use from his system prior to school and volleyball engagements. It was a difficult habit to break. His usual routine of waking up and smoking was ruined, it was what he usually looked forward to as he fell asleep at night. 

His days were spent going through the motions of school and after school activities thinking about when he could get home and smoke until his lungs gave out. 

His motivation seemed to have taken a hit when it came to studying for tests or doing projects and homework. The majority of it he blamed on the weed. All he wanted to do was get home and smoke. When he was able to do that, the last thing he wanted to do was school work. 

When he was high basically all day, everyday it was easier to complete the work since it just felt like how he normally did when he did any other task. When he added in the depressive episodes which haven't seemed to subsided much yet despite the new medications, his ability to do nearly anything plummeted to basically zero. 

He turned to his friend for advice. The friend who had certain connections. He was introduced to adderall. It was a game changer. He loved it. He was able to do his course work with a concentration that had him finishing the papers faster than he would have without.

The euphoric boost during the come up was hands down his favourite part. There were some similarities in the adderall high as the feeling he would get while hypomanic. Though, with the little pill it gave him less guilt and shame than he would experience after an episode.  At least if he did stupid shit on adderall (which wasn’t likely to begin with) at least he had some artificial chemical to blame it on rather than if he acted on the imbalance in his brain that made him do all the impulsive activities he did… That was all on him. At least his mind was a bit more quiet on the adderall than it was while manic. 

After the first time he went on an adderall binge he was able to complete the projects he was falling behind on. He also finished the work that wasn’t due for a few days and outlined study points for final exams. When the week ended he crashed for the weekend. Barely getting out of bed from how exhausted he was. 

It wasn’t so much his chronic depression as it usually was, but the fact that he had only slept a couple hours the past few nights and exerted a lot of energy at volleyball practice to show that he wasn’t slacking. 

When Kiyoomi passed with grades his parents were content with and the college he hoped to attend accepted his application, he felt like everything was falling into place.

He had tools in his belt, his drugs that helped him get through the day and pass his tests. College would be a breeze. Then, he would be able to play volleyball professionally and not worry about stupid school work or trivial things as such. 

Thinking back, it was quite naive of him. How did he think he could keep himself at bay and coast by with what he had?

Soon enough his prescription pills ran out and were never refilled. He found out that if he was off his meds and abused adderall and from research, other stimulant drugs, he could trigger a hypomanic episode. 

College was a big component when it came to understanding his diagnosis better. He had taken a psychology class in second year which helped connect a few dots in regards to why he acts the way he does at times.

He put some time into understanding his disorder and how other people experience the same things as him. He learnt about different things he does that might be influenced by his symptoms and how to better address them and react when they occur. It was eye opening learning about different symptoms and being able to point them out in his own life in retrospect. 

Unfortunately, despite having all the knowledge he did, he still partook in things highly discouraged for his well being. He knew statistics, he understood the risks and dangers of doing everything he did, but it didn’t deter him. 

Drugs started to become a crutch, more so than ever before. He experimented with whatever he could get his hands on, with whoever would accompany him. Psychedelics, stimulants, benzos, opioids, you name it and he would be ready. 

This resulted in some hazy nights with sketchy men and dark bruises. He found himself questioning all too often whether or not a drug combination was lethal or he took just enough to knock him off his feet for the night. 

He sacrificed a couple morning classes in order to scrape the dry vomit out of his hair from regretful and spotty nights. He spent terrifying trips screaming and rocking on a bed as memories were burnt into his mind because of how fucking real those hallucinations felt.

His abusive boyfriend at the time who, on a normal day, couldn’t give a shit about him, administered naloxone therefore saving his life. The physical tolls he put his body through with the chemicals that he didn't always know were pure felt incurable. But nothing beats the embarrassment of telling someone you still love it. 

Behind closed doors his life looked like it was falling apart to anyone who cared enough to look. But Kiyoomi is what the public would call a ‘high functioning addict’. He hates that term. 

He came around to the word ‘addict’ after he returned to the drug that he overdosed on only hours after he woke up. He admits he loves drugs. He can’t stop thinking about them when he’s sober. He’s always thinking about his next high. 

‘High functioning’ is the part that makes him cringe. It’s like people who aren’t addicts put those who are on a scale of who’s better. Just because some people are able to mask their struggles better than others doesn’t make them more or less worthy of help. It makes him want to snort a line off the top of their saviour complex. 

Kiyoomi can hold down a job and go to school, which makes him ‘high functioning’ in the eyes of the onlookers. He is all the same an addict, his mental health is shot, his physical health is deteriorating, he’s manipulating the people around him to feed his addiction… He needs help as much as any other. 

But, he’s high functioning… So what's the issue, right?

He gets his assignments done, he gets passing grades, he’s well loved in the volleyball world… He’s not really suffering. He's not sick enough for help, he can handle himself fine. 

High functioning addict… Well functioning adult, with a ‘wild side’.

Imposter

A couple lost friends along the way. An ex boyfriend sent to prison. A preference for OxyContin, Xanax and Cannabis. One college degree later, he joined the MSBY Black Jackals. 

The last year of college was enough to give Kiyoomi a reason to start the medication he was prescribed once again.He hated the fact that the medications helped to a degree. Mainly because it confirmed the fact that he really did need them and he couldn’t blame his moods solely on his substance use. There was something wrong with his mind that wouldn’t get better even if he decided to get sober one day. 

Hiding his disorder from the team was easy at first. They all thought he was odd. He had a reputation since high school that a few of the boys on the team already knew of so he wasn’t surprised by the fact no one questioned his quirks. 

When Kiyoomi would have a depressive episode he wouldn’t talk as much throughout training. It was exhausting enough getting to the gym and having to exert so much energy, physically he found it exponentially harder to talk to his teammates during those times. He could handle the scolding for being slow or slacking off, hell, he’s gotten that most of his life. 

He would simply apologize and tell them he hasn’t been sleeping well, knowing damn well all he’s been doing at home is lying in bed and napping when he could and sleeping through the night. Luckily his medication nowadays has been able to reduce the length of his episodes. Depressive episodes only last around a week now rather than at least a month. 

When he first joined, it was hard having to cut down on his drug use for the first few months as it was interfering with work but he soon found a pattern that worked well. He was able to go to work, get home, get high and start over the next day. 

He was nervous about the random drug tests that he was told about but after some research he found a system that was able to preserve his friend's clean urine. It worked for the first two drug tests. The third one, resulted in what he promised himself he wouldn’t do. Manipulate Miya. 

Miya Atsumu. No matter how badly he wished he hadn’t fallen for the man he caved. It wasn’t a new spark by any means. Atsumu had struck his attention at the training camp they attended in year two of high school. It was a barely crush back then, a lusty high school attraction more so. They spoke a few words the entire time as Kiyoomi was too bashful and sober to say anything to him more than what needed to be said. 

Atsumu was pretty then, but now he’s hotter than ever. So no, he couldn’t fucking help but fall for the bastard. It was only his luck that Atsumu sucked at hiding his pinning, and he was shameless when he was hypomanic. 

That being said, when Kiyoomi admitted to himself that he was an addict he made a list of lines he dared not cross. He hadn’t pulled out the list to add anything until the day he realized his feelings for the man. 

Manipulating Miya Atsumu eventually made it onto the list. To others it may seem like a simple task, if you like someone enough you wouldn’t manipulate them. The only thing was, he’s lived a lot of his life manipulating those around him in order to be able to feed his addiction. At some point it came so naturally to him, it was a way for him to survive in his circumstances. 

When he and Atsumu hooked up he knew he was already toeing a dangerous line. Manipulating someone for mundane, pointless reasons were on the lower scale of care to him. Of course, he didn’t feel over the moon when he manipulated someone but manipulation in terms of his drug use was something he always ended up feeling ashamed of despite doing it quite often. 

When Atsumu displayed his anger to Kiyoomi, he was more than welcoming to it despite his deflections in the heat of the moment. Kiyoomi knew he was in the wrong and the fact that Atsumu was able to catch on and call him out was a good sign to him. 

Kiyoomi doesn’t want to be the toxic one in a relationship. He knows it’s going to be hard having a relationship and sustaining his addiction without manipulating Atsumu. If he knows that the blonde can call him out and put him in his place when need be he knows he can relax a bit.

There are certain things that need to be lied about. Atsumu doesn't know about the drugs. He doesn't need to know about the drugs.

He can know about prescriptions and bipolar. He can know about faking drug tests… There will be half truths… But he can’t know about the drugs... It'll be easy, right?

The only bug in the back of his mind is wondering if this will just make him better at manipulating. He pushes it away. This is for his future. This is for the best. He doesn’t want to know how Atsumu will react if he did find out.

Friday practice went by excruciatingly slow. Kiyoomi was going to ask Atsumu to come over to his place so they could talk. He was going to tell him about his Bipolar. He rehearsed what he was going to say over and over the night before. Even though he knows the likelihood of it staying on track is low. 

He generally hated telling people about his disorder. He usually withheld the information from the people he knew and partners he’s been with. He never really thought it was necessary for others to know, he handled it and if people weren’t able to accept him no matter what, then screw them. Why did they have to know he was mentally ill for them to accept the way he was? 

In the changing room after practice, Kiyoomi tapped Atsumu on his shoulder hesitantly while he was talking to Bokuto. Atsumu swung around and his face fell stoic at the sight of Kiyoomi, “‘Sup,” 

“‘Sup,” Kiyoomi cringed. Atsumu cringed.

“Do ya need somethin'?” Atsumu asked. 

“Come to my place. Please? After… now?” Kiyoomi stuttered. Atsumu bit his tongue from a snarky come back and nodded his head letting him know he’ll meet him there. 

When Kiyoomi got home he tidied his place a bit and made a cup of tea for both him and Atsumu, despite not knowing if Atsumu even really likes tea. When he went to the washroom he opened the cupboard and looked at the bottles of pills lined up neatly. 

He stared at the bottle of Xanax, debating if he should take some. Maybe just half… He’s pretty anxious about this whole ordeal, it wouldn’t hurt… 

So, he did. 

As he was about to swallow the pill he heard a knock on the door. “Fuck,” he muttered. He felt his heartbeat speed up and hands prickle with sweat, “One second!” he threw the pill down his throat and reached for his scolding cup of tea. He burnt his tongue as he swallowed a sip to push down the pill. His throat burnt as he felt like he was breathing fire. 

He opened the door and saw Atsumu standing in front of the door looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else but here. “I’ll make it quick, if you have other places to be…” He started. 

“No. I’m just not sure what to expect,” he shrugged. Kiyoomi nodded. He gestured to the chair with the untouched mug.

“I know it’s pretty soon since everything happened. I’m sorry you felt manipula-”

“Nope. I’m not likin’ how yer starting this, Sakusa,” 

Sakusa

“Sorry, yeah, fuck. That sounded very gaslighty,” He buried his face in his hands, “Look. I’m going to be honest. I’m not good at relationships. I’ve been in shitty relationships in the past, and it’s kind of all I know.

“Communication is hard for me but I hope you can be patient with me. I’m trying to learn. And… I hope you can help me. I struggle with, like, oversharing or not saying anything... It's weird... I don't know. But I… I liked it when you called me out for the whole manipulation thing. It was shitty of me to do... I don't want you to see me how I saw my exes,”

“Alright...” Atsumu said monotonously. He stood up, causing Kiyoomi’s heart to drop. 

“Wait, Atsumu,” 

“Calm down, I just need to use the washroom,” Atsumu reassured with a small forced smile. He walked down the hallway where the only washroom resided. He locked the door, pulled out his phone and started opening cabinets. 

He quickly found a jackpot as a few pill bottles came into view, his eyes widened. 

He pulled up the group chat with Bokuto, Hinata and Akaashi named “Secret Sakusa Support Squad” 

[Atsumu]: Guys… This man is loaded on pills

[Shoyo]: ??What kind??

[Akaashi]: Atsumu…

[Atsumu]: I mean, only two of them have labels, one is ‘lamotrigine’ and the other is ‘aripiprazole’?

Atsumu took a picture of the other pill bottles despite not having labels. They were see through bottles so the pills were visible but he didn't know if Akaashi was good at identifying pills visually like that. 

He closed the cabinets, flushed the toilet to give the illusion of using the washroom and washed his hands. He left the washroom with his phone in his pocket, assuming that his friends would do the drug research for him by the time he checked his phone next. When he got back to the table Kiyoomi looked much more relaxed. 

“As you were saying,” He urged on. 

“Right. So, during our argument I told you I have a psychiatric disorder… I have been taking medications for this disorder since high school,” 

Oh god, does he know I just looked through his shit. Atsumu thought to himself.

“The medications I’m on can cause false positives,” Atsumu nodded slowly allowing him to speak, “and there’s no way in hell I'm telling Coach or the team that I’m diagnosed with... Bipolar 2.” 

Bipolar… 2?

“Bipolar?” 

“Two,”

“There’s two bipolars?” Atsumu’s brain felt a little stirred. 

 Kiyoomi leaned his elbow on the table and rested his cheek on his palm, diverting his gaze downwards, “Yeah, I guess.”

“What? Okay, I’m not following. I thought you had something like OCD or ADHD,” Atsumu tried explaining. 

Kiyoomi frowned, “ADHD?” He shook his head, “Point is, people with bipolar aren’t the most trusted in the workplace. I can’t be fired, you understand how much this job means to me. What I did was shitty and I will never ask you to falsify my urine again… My bipolar is better than it was… I’m managing it,” 

Atsumu took a second to take in everything Kiyoomi said. When he thought of bipolar his mind brought up the stereotypes, moodswings, bad temper, dramatic… He knows there’s more to it than that, he’s heard of ‘episodes’ but his knowledge of that was vague. His mother used to complain about a coworker with bipolar and how ‘crazy’ she was during her ‘episodes’. Atsumu was too young to understand or ask meaningful questions. He took it as it was, that bipolar people were crazy during episodes. 

“I dunno much about bipolar other than the stereotypes, yknow moodswings ‘n that. I want to know everything. I know there are episodes… I think I can point out some you’ve had… but regardless, I definitely need to do research,”

Kiyoomi cringed thinking about Atsumu witnessing his episodes. 

“You can take yer time. I’m here to listen with an open mind. The good, the ugly. I want to hear it all. I want to know what kind of things I can do for you when you might need the support and when I need to back off,” 

“Atsumu… God...” Kiyoomi knew that if he wasn’t on anything at the moment the amount of words spewing out of the fake blonde would be overwhelming and probably too much to handle, “That means a lot, thank you,” he felt a surge of warmth through his chest. 

“I’m going to go search some stuff up,” Atsumu said, standing up quickly, “Bipolar 2, right?” He headed towards the door and started putting his shoes on. Kiyoomi stood up and made his way over to the man frantically wanting to get home to do research . Never would he expect his partner to run out of his apartment in order to do research to better understand his disorder... 

Before he left he leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on Kiyoomi’s lips, “Thank you for being so open with me, I see how hard it was for you,” He left swiftly jogging down the hall to his own place leaving Kiyoomi standing in his doorway frozen in shock. 

When Atsumu unlocked his phone he was faced with several texts in the group chat. 

[Akaashi]: … I’m still against you going through his things. But from those medication combinations it would make sense to what I had in mind…

[Shoyo]: which is?

[Akaashi]: Bipolar 

[Bokuto]: Bipolar???

[Shoyo]: Whaaaaatttttt??? 

[Shoyo]: are u sure? that doesn’t feel right?

[Akaashi]: I’m not a doctor. But from what you have been saying, the episodic elevated moods and possible depressive moods… to the medicinal treatment for bipolar patients… 

[Bokuto]: Dude thats crazy

[Akaashi]: keep an open mind of course. It might not be but there’s a strong possibility. There’s other reasons someone might be on those medications but …

[Shoyo]: 😧 this is crazy 

Atsumu chewed on his lip anxiously reading through the messages. He felt guilt rush through him realizing he had basically outed Kiyoomi to his friends. It wasn’t his place to say anything. Kiyoomi obviously didn’t want anyone to know.

He didn’t know how to dig himself out of this hole, he couldn’t just take back what he said, they wouldn’t believe him. It was already out in the open. 

[Atsumu]: guys, I shouldn’t have told you. It wasn’t my place to say anything. 

[Atsumu]: Please don’t act differently around him. Please don’t say anything about it to him. He doesn’t want anyone to know. 

[Bokuto]: Of course Tsumu! He’s still Sakusa! We won’t say anything. Promise. Did he tell you? Is it Bipolar?

[Shoyo]: Promise! 🤐

[Atsumu]: yes… Bipolar 2… I’m going to go research some stuff

[Akaashi]: You can always text me if you need support for yourself, Atsumu. 

With a final thank you text he took out his laptop and started his research. Reading through article after article Atsumu found his chest aching. He watched videos of people with the diagnosis talking about their experiences and read statistics that broke his heart. 

Imagining Kiyoomi in the place of these people was something he hated, but he knew it was necessary to understand the man he found himself infatuated with. 

Soon enough it was dark outside and he had spent a lot of his day fixated on his laptop. He ordered some takeout food and decided to watch a show with depictions of bipolar characters. He knew he might be going a bit far with everything but when he set his mind on something he stuck to it. He was dedicated.

A couple minutes in watching an episode of a show called ‘Modern Love’ and eating his take out, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of his and Kiyoomi’s argument once again. There was something at the back of his mind telling him that there was something more, something he was missing. 

It was upsetting that he had no one to help talk him through his thoughts. Osamu would quite literally try to strangle Kiyoomi if he ever found out, and any of his friends from home were unfortunately more friends with Osamu. It would most likely always lead back to the strangulation of the dark haired teammate. 

When he texted his brother the day after sleeping with Kiyoomi he didn’t name drop. Osamu kept prying but gave up when Atsumu wouldn’t budge. Originally he was going to tell his brother about the crush that’s been festering and why it was a big deal but chickened out. Osamu ended up being annoyed that he wasted his time over a nameless one night stand. 

Anyone on the team was off limits for obvious reasons… Akaashi… Well… He was probably the only one at the moment he could trust with any of this. He was pretty sure he could trust him not to tell Bokuto and he doesn’t think that outing Kiyoomi like this would make Akaashi act any different around him on the rare occasions they do see each other. 

So, before he could change his mind he dialled up Akaashi’s number and put it on speaker. It rang three times before a distant greeting was heard. 

“Akaashi, hi, it’s Atsumu. I hope i'm not disturbing you,” 

“No, you’re fine. Is there something you need, Atsumu?”

“I was wondering if you had time to talk? I- I kind of needed to get some stuff off my chest… I don’t have anyone else to go to…” He mumbled.

“Of course. Were you looking for advice or just a place to talk?” He offered with a soft voice. Atsumu felt himself relax. 

“Maybe just talk for now? And maybe advice along the way… but I just wanna get this off my chest first… If you don’t mind,” Atsumu felt so vulnerable. Like he was offering up his heart in the form of some glass rendition. He’s never been to therapy, or truly talked openly about his feelings, it was new to him.

“Of course. At your own pace,” 

“Okay,” He let out a breath, “So things were going well with Kiyoomi and I after we slept together until the day of the surprise drug test. That's when our argument happened. He came up to me and asked to use my urine to forge the test. I didn’t want to, it was wrong! I told him no but then he told me… he told me he might as well make the most of the practice or some shit because it will be his last? I don’t know… some guilt trippy shit to make me feel bad about not helping him out. 

“I ended up doing it. I knew what he was doing but I did it anyway. He manipulated me and I let him walk all over me. Which, I definitely could've responded better but, man, I've been whipped for that man for a long time so of course he tells me ta jump, i'm fuckin' jumping, yknow? I think I would've caved anyway even if he didn't try to manipulate me. But the fact that he did just made me feel like shit. 

"We're also so new that I felt like if I fucked something up or rejected something it would've been detrimental to our relationship if that makes sense? Urgh. Anyway. When we went to his place and talked about it he told me his medication made false positives so he had to fake his tests. 

“I told him to tell the coach about the fact he takes prescriptions, they can’t hold that against him, right? He got mad and told me that people don't want to hire the mentally ill and all that… I told him not to manipulate me again. 

“When we talked today it was a lot better. He told me about his bipolar and a bit about how he hasn’t had good relationships in the past, and how his communications are a bit rocky.

“I don’t know if it’s my trust issues, but It just feels like I'm being set up to be manipulated again. He told me he liked that I put him in his place, which is good I guess? But I don't want to call him out every time and make him think I think he’s trying to pull a fast one on me all the time. If I keep calling him out and I end up being wrong… Well it’s just going to make it seem like I don't trust him, yknow? It jus’ sounds like a recipe for disaster. 

“Also… The whole medication stuff… I- Do you really think he would be fired for having bipolar?” 

Akaashi clicked his tongue, “That's a hard question. I think it would really depend on the coach. When Bokuto was scouted he asked the coach if they were accommodating for ADHD and were okay with him using prescription medications. It was important for him that he had understanding coaches of course. 

“They hadn’t had a concern like that before so they had to discuss and talk about what kind of things they should be expecting. Obviously everything worked out fine, but it was a learning curve and they questioned whether or not they should continue with hiring Koutarou,” Akaashi explained. 

“Do you think the fact that he’s medicated and has been falsifying tests would be bad for his case?” Atsumu asked anxiously, logically he knew the answer but he wanted the odd chance of being proved wrong. 

“... The latter doesn’t help. It’s hard to say since I don’t know the coach personally or how he feels about mental health issues,” 

“Yeah, I guess… I’m just curious… Does the medication that he’s on actually give false positives? There were several other pills in the bathroom but they weren’t labelled so I don’t know what they were. God, I sound like I don’t trust a word that comes out of him…”

“I’m pretty sure antipsychotics can cause false positives, yes. Honestly, Atsumu… People with bipolar can take several medications to stay stable. It’s possible they are for his condition. It’s weird he took the label off though,”

“Are you any good at identifying pills?” Atsumu asked hopefully.

“Um, I know some by the looks of them but not really…” Akaashi trailed off. 

Atsumu hit send on a picture which Akaashi examined, “Okay, well… I do recognize two by the looks… do you not know what those long ones are, Atsumu?” 

Atsumu looked closely at the longer pills, “No? I don’t know medications,” 

“Bars… Xanax?” Akaashi muttered.

“What?” Atsumu zoomed into the picture, “That's what Xanax looks like?” 

“Yeah. The little capsules are adderall,” Akaashi said simply. 

“He told me he doesn’t have ADHD though. Why would he have adderall?” 

“... Um… Atsumu? When you were snooping around did you happen to see a naloxone kit by any chance?” Akaashi sounded a bit worried. Atsumu didn't like the sound of that. 

“I don’t know what that is,” 

“It’s usually in a little black bag with a red plus on it? Sometimes it will say naloxone or maybe narcan on it,” 

“I don’t remember seeing that, what is it? Why would he have it?” 

“I searched up what the other pill is… I- Do you know if he’s had surgery or, I don't know, has chronic pain?” 

“Not that I know of? What is it, Akaashi? Yer freaking me out,” 

“Okay, um… Well naloxone is a life saving drug that reverses opioid overdoses… I asked because it looks like this other pill is OxyContin… If he has this in his place he should have a kit… just in case, you know?”

“Fuck, what the fuck? Why would he? Is he hurt? Why does he have adderall and Oxy? Xanax is for, like, anxiety right? I kind of understand why he would have that, he does get anxious… But why aren’t there labels… Is he a drug dealer?” 

“A drug dealer?” Akaashi asked.

There was no way that Kiyoomi was the one using these drugs recreationally, Atsumu thought. Kiyoomi barely drank when he was out with the team unless he was hypomanic. There was no chance in hell he was getting high at home off of pills. Atsumu couldn’t believe that for a second. 

“I don’t think he’s a drug dealer, Atsumu,” Akaashi sighed, “I’ll go over to yours and drop off a naloxone kit so you can have one in case you ever need one, okay? I’ll teach you how to use it. Hopefully you won’t have to though. If it turns out he is using opioids and you so happen to witness an overdose it’s important you have it with you,” 

“What the fuck, Akaashi?” Atsumu whispered, staring at the picture of the pills he took. 

Before he knew it, his eyes were welling up with tears he wiped away fiercely. He imagined Kiyoomi on the floor, cold and lifeless from an overdose. He didn’t want to believe it was possible that Kiyoomi could be the one to take life threatening drugs for fun, he wished he hadn’t looked in his cabinets. 

They aren’t even official yet… Why is there already so much pain and confusion? All he knew was he couldn’t start a relationship with so many questions and resistance. If it was going to work out he needed the answers, whether he liked them or not. 

“What do I do?” He asked weakly. 

“I’ve never really dealt with this Atsumu… It’s a tricky topic to approach. If he’s an addict he might be defensive if you try to tell him he has a problem and try to get him help. That is if he doesn’t want help, and doesn’t want to stop. On the other hand, if he does, he might be easier to reach. 

“Going into this thinking you can save him is not what your mind set should be, okay? You can’t put that kind of weight on your shoulders. He needs professional help. You can support him and be there for him but you won’t ‘cure’ him,” 

Atsumu nodded his head though didn’t fully believe it. If he showed Kiyoomi enough love, shouldn’t that be enough for him to stop? Why wouldn’t his love be enough? 

“I need him to know that I know about the drugs. I can’t start this relationship with lies,” 

“That’s understandable. Just… approach it with caution. Don’t make him feel like a villain for using substances. It could be a coping mechanism for stuff he doesn’t think he can deal with sober… You have to find out how he feels about his substance use and find out what kinds of things he might need from you.” 

“Okay… I think I can do that…” Atsumu scrapped his whole plan of ignoring Kiyoomi until he knew how he was going to deal with this, “it makes me upset thinkin' he’s only a few doors down and he could be high off fuckin' Oxy or something… do you think he does heroin?” 

“I don’t know, Atsumu. It’s not fair to assume. You can look into substance abuse if you want. They’re both opioids. The ‘opioid crisis’ got bad when they cut down on prescribing prescription opioids to people and they had to resort to heroin or more unreliable street opioids… We don’t know anything in regards to that part of his life though, it’s unfair to make assumptions,” 

“Fuck, okay. Thank you Akaashi. It means a lot that you’d listen to me. I had no one else t’talk to,” 

“Any time Atsumu. Gotta put my psychology knowledge somewhere, right?” Akaashi let out a forced chuckle. 

They said their goodbyes. Atsumu was left alone with his brewing thoughts, more unanswered questions and a ton more research to do. 

The next day Atsumu woke up to a knock on his door. He groggily got up and checked his phone noting the time to be half past eleven and threw on a robe before heading to the door. When he opened it he was met with Hinata, Bokuto and a less enthused Akaashi standing outside the door. 

“Mornin’” Atsumu mumbled, opening the door wide enough for everyone to enter. Hinata and Bokuto were happily chatting about something as Akaashi was searching around his bag for something. 

“Akaashi has a presentation for us,” Hinata stated. Atsumu yawned before shrugging and gesturing to the open space in the living room. 

“It’s not a presentation. I’ve been learning about harm reduction and about the opioid crisis and figured it’s important that as people who go out to bars or places of higher risks we should take precautions that could save lives,” 

“He’s an angel,” Bokuto whispered to Hinata who nodded eagerly.  

“Anyway, these are naloxone kits,” He pulled out three and handed one to each of the men, “In those kits that I gave you there are a couple things. Two syringes, two vials, gloves, swabs, instructions, breathing barrier… These kits,” He held up another naloxone kit, “Are a nasal spray administration. I’ll explain why you’d use one over the other in a second. 

“For any of this to be relevant you have to be able to recognize signs of overdose. Even if someone has overdosed you might not know what they have taken but it’s okay to use these kits whether or not it’s opioids. Nothing bad will happen if you inject someone who hasn’t taken opioids,” Akaashi went over the signs of overdose with them and answered questions regarding the naloxone.

Atsumu felt grateful for the education, but fearful that he might one day have to use this knowledge. Akaashi explained how to administer both the injection as well as the nasal spray before continuing his previous train of thought, “Most people aren’t comfortable with giving injections which is understandable, it can be odd if you’ve never had to do it before.

“People would probably turn to the nasal spray for their own comfort. The only issue with that is that the nasal spray, as you can see here, is 4mg whereas one dose for the injection is 1ml. 

“Most people would see this and think ‘isn’t a higher dose better?’ Well, It’s a bit more complicated than that. If the person who overdosed is a frequent opioid user and their body is dependent on the substance in their system, having all the naloxone, a substance that blocks the opioid receptors from any opioids, can be very hard on their body.

“Not only will they wake up from an overdose but their body can experience withdrawal symptoms, which can be painful and just unpleasant. You can always administer another dose,” 

“Wow, It’s really cool that you’re teaching us all this stuff Akaashi! I feel like everyone should know this!” Hinata said brightly, inspecting his kit. 

“What if we educated the team?” Bokuto suggested.

“No!” Atsumu said hastily, “I mean, yes? It’s good. I just… Don’t want Meian or the coach getting suspicious of anyone on the team using opioids, you know?” 

“Nah, I doubt they would. Plus, they have the drug test results anyway. If anyone was, I'm sure they’d be kicked off the team,” Bokuto said matter of factly. 

“Right…” Atsumu trailed off. 

That was the last thing Atsumu wanted to hear at the moment.

Chapter Text

Monday snuck up on Atsumu. He spent most of his weekend researching anything and everything about substance abuse and bipolar.

He learnt about different kinds of substances, how to be a partner to addicts and how to support them through tougher times. He spent a lot of his time learning about harm reduction techniques and ideals which Akaashi told him to look into.

A lot of the things Atsumu read about harm reduction was really difficult for him to wrap his head around. It all felt like he was enabling a way of life he grew up thinking was inherently wrong. When he understood how his mindset around drug use was programmed to believe all drugs are bad, he realized how narrow minded he had been and how stigmatizing that whole outlook can be. 

Drugs are everywhere in people's lives. Caffeine, over the counter pain killers, anti-depressants… Even opioids can be life saving drugs when used with the proper knowledge and discretion. It can be hard to see how beneficial all drugs can be with the way society demonizes them and criminalizes people from trying to get relief. 

When he got to the gym on Monday morning he arrived a bit later than usual. He was tired from the night before, having gone down a rabbit hole about the medicinal benefits of psilocybin. The change room was filled with chatter and boisterous conversations he wasn't quite awake enough yet to participate in. 

Just as he was going to greet Kiyoomi with a warm smile he noticed the piercing gaze he was giving Hinata who was talking to Inunaki. When he followed the gaze he saw Shoyo holding a naloxone kit in one hand and briefly explaining why he had it and its purpose to the libero who looked confused and slightly off put. 

Atsumu felt a sudden flash of panic rush through him, he wanted to know what Sakusa was thinking, but by the looks of it, it was nothing positive.

“Hey Omi,” Atsumu said softly. The piercing gaze was quickly snapped and aimed towards him. He felt taken back but held firm and gave a weary smile, “Good mornin’,” 

“Hi,” The spiker mumbled in return before rummaging through his bag in search of his shirt. Atsumu tried not taking the cold response personally and carried on with getting ready for practice. 

Practice went by fairly smoothly. Kiyoomi seemed to shake himself off after the incident this morning and play as well as any other day. He and Atsumu connected with almost every play resulting in smiles and high fives which had Atsumu floating on butterflies. 

At the end of practice they ended up playing a scrimmage game. However, halfway through, following a perfect set, spike combo, Kiyoomi’s nose started bleeding. It was a bit more than just a little dribble of blood.

It came on as they were waiting for their team to serve. Kiyoomi sniffed as he felt his nose tingle and start to feel a bit runny. Just as the serve went over he sniffed again as he felt it start to run a bit more uncontrollable. 

He tried to ignore it, he could just blow his nose after the rally. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand quickly when he felt his nose drip. At that exact moment Atsumu looked over. 

Atsumu’s eyes widened as he took a double take at the blood running down Kiyoomi’s lip, onto his chin and consequently his shirt, “Fuck, time out! Stop!” the setter shouted, holding his hand up. The ball was caught in the air as everyone looked around to see what happened. 

As people spotted the blood, Kiyoomi realized what was happening. What he thought was just a runny nose was a full on nose bleed. Great. A couple people shouted at him asking if he was okay. He waved them off as he pinched his nose in an attempt to slow or stop the bleeding. 

Atsumu quickly walked over to him and placed a hand on his back guiding him over to the washrooms, “Shit, are you okay? Does it hurt?” 

“It’s fine,” Kiyoomi said as he pulled up his already stained shirt and used it to wipe some blood off his face. Atsumu ran into the stall and grabbed a bunch of toilet paper, handing it over to Kiyoomi. He took it easily and made a shooing motion with the hand holding the clean toilet paper, dismissing Atsumu from the bathroom. 

“I’m not leavin',” Atsumu said stubbornly. 

“It’s gross. I can handle it,” 

“I’ve lived with a gross twin brother, this is nothin',” Kiyoomi rolled his eyes at his stubbornness. He knew he wasn't going to change his mind so he let it be. He continued to wipe away the blood and care for his still bleeding nose, “Aren’t you supposed to tilt yer head up?” 

“No, that tastes gross,” He muttered with his head down. 

“You get them often then?” Atsumu whispered. With his research the last few days he learned about possible long-term side effects from drug use, one of which so happened to be nosebleeds from insufflation.  

Kiyoomi froze for a second before continuing to wipe his nose, “I think it’s almost done,” 

Atsumu didn’t like the deflection of the question but he left it alone, “Want me to get your clean shirt?” 

“No, I’m going to shower now anyway. I’ll change when I'm out,” Atsumu nodded and continued swinging his legs from the counter he was sitting on. Kiyoomi side eyed him, “You can leave… There’s still some time for you to play before practice is done,” 

“I’d rather stay with you,” 

Sakusa cringed, “Cheesy,” Atsumu chuckled. 

“Wanna come over for dinner tonight?” Atsumu asked simply.

“All it took for me to get into your pants was a bit of blood?” He joked, wiping up the last of the drying blood on his face. 

“Yeah. You’re extremely sexy when ya have blood gushing out of yer face. Would love to see it again,” Atsumu mocked.

Sakusa smirked as he walked out of the bathroom and grabbed his change of clothes, “Making me something nice?” 

“Only the best,” Atsumu puffed out his chest. 

By the time Kiyoomi got to Atsumu’s place, just after 6pm, the food was nearly ready. It was an English dish that Atsumu had never attempted to make before. It was a risk but hopefully it would be edible. Kiyoomi walked in dressed comfortably but still presentable whereas Atsumu had an apron and flour all over his shirt. 

“Smells good,” He pointed out whilst sitting on the couch. 

“Thanks! Honestly… It might turn out shitty. It looks kinda weird. ‘Samu told me ta try and make it but it doesn’t really have any of yer favourite things so I got some stuff on the side in case we don't like it.” 

“Should I be scared?” Kiyoomi deadpanned. 

“It’s beef wellington. An English dish?” he said, unsure of the reaction. 

Kiyoomi shrugged, “I have no clue what that is to be honest. I like beef though.”

“Well, that's something then,” Atsumu let out a sigh of relief, “It’s still got some time in the oven so we can watch some tv if you want. You can turn it on i’ll be there in a second,” 

Sakusa went quiet for a while as Atsumu was cleaning up a slight mess he had made in the kitchen. 

“What’s ‘Modern love’?” Kiyoomi asked curiously. Atsumu stumbled. He forgot that was the last thing he had watched on the tv. He doesn't know why he feels so embarrassed about Kiyoomi seeing what he was watching prior to him being there. 

Maybe because the character has bipolar? Would Kiyoomi feel like he was invading a personal part of him despite it not being about him? He was overthinking it, Kiyoomi would probably be grateful that he was doing his own research about the disorder rather than asking Kiyoomi all his questions.  

“Oh, it’s a show I was watching… Well, only one episode. Every episode is a different story. I got through a couple minutes before I got distracted by something else,” 

“You were watching the episode with the bipolar character?” Kiyoomi asked cautiously.

“Yeah…” Atsumu took off his apron and made his way to the living room. “Have ya seen it before? I know sometimes shows can butcher depictions of disorders so if you think it’s a bad example of bipolar, I won't even continue watching it. Not worth my time,” He sat down next to Kiyoomi who was reading the description of the episode. 

“I’ve never seen it. I don’t really consume… Bipolar media,” He shrugged, “I think some things might be triggering so I try to stay away,”

“Oh, I won’t recommend we watch it then,” Atsumu chuckled awkwardly, “Triggering in what way? If ya don’t mind me asking?” 

Kiyoomi let out a breath, “You’re really trying to crack my shell here aren’t you, Miya?” 

“You don’t hav-”

“No," He interrupted, "I need to open up to you. It’s obvious you’re doing your own research, which I appreciate," Kiyoomi paused. He didn't know what to start with, where to begin. Was there a line he shouldn't cross when talking about all of this to Atsumu? 

Kiyoomi knew he had issues with under or oversharing, he never seems to know the middle ground. Admittedly he wasn't the best at conversations, starting them, keeping them afloat or ending them to be completely honest. Small talk wasn't his forte. 

When he's under the influence of some kind of substance he tends to start talking. The topic of discussions vary but it usually ends up with him regretting ever even owning vocal chords or wishing he didn’t remember anything from the interaction. But of course, as luck would have it, he would always remember the parts that make him cringe and wonder why he ever thought it was a good idea to open his mouth to begin with. He debated sewing it shut for the sole purpose of not saying shit he would regret. 

When intoxicated Kiyoomi would talk, it would result in his sober self withdrawing. He reasoned this because he didn't really know how much people around him knew about him and he didn't like people knowing more about him then they had to or already did after he might have spilt too much the night before. 

He felt serious about Atsumu though. Unlike his past boyfriends it felt real. Nothing felt too forced, he wasn't using a fake name, he wasn't using him for drugs... And Atsumu seemed to really care... He wanted to understand Kiyoomi. He's never felt seen like this before. He felt like he could tell Atsumu and not completely regret it. He felt as if he could trust him.

"I was diagnosed with major depression and anxiety when I was 11. It wasn’t until summer before year three did I have my first hypomanic episode," Kiyoomi started, slightly nervous. He's never been so vulnerable sober. 

“Unlike people with bipolar 1, we can often do everything we usually do. Go to school, work, or whatever during a hypomanic episode. My first episode was… as bad as this sounds, amazing. When mania is discussed I often hear people bring up the extreme negatives which is good awareness, don't get me wrong. No one should romanticize mania or hypomania… But because people mostly know bipolar 1, their mania can be extremely debilitating, most of the time they end up hospitalized. 

“They don’t often talk about how dangerously good hypomania can feel…

“I mean, imagine having the confidence of a god. The ego of someone who owns the fucking world… You feel invincible… In my experience, I get waves of euphoria and just… overwhelming joy and bursts of happiness that I don’t get normally. You get these ideas and thoughts that just seem like you have the key to the universe. You feel like you can do anything you set your mind to. I think that’s why it’s so dangerous… 

“Because sometimes you’ll want to try these things and you don’t think they’ll hurt you. You can’t think of the consequences, they don't matter. The most dangerous thing is that… the feeling is so addicting. You asked what’s triggering and all I can think about is when I'll feel that natural ‘high’ again… It’s a tricky dice to roll. 

“Not all hypomanic states feel so good. If I purposefully trigger it by messing with my medication or… something, I never know what kind of episode to expect. 

“I could have a euphoric episode but lately I’ve been having more dysphoric ones, mixed episodes. They scare me... because I never know how intense they might get,” Sakusa sighed, leaning back against the couch. Atsumu was listening intensely. He found everything Kiyoomi said so fascinating. 

Before he could respond his alarm went off, “Hold that thought,” He said quickly running to the kitchen. When he came back he sat back down and faced Kiyoomi, “It needs time to cool down.” He mumbled. “But wow... It makes sense, if you think about it, I mean… You’ve dealt with depression for the majority of yer life… So if you know you can have these times of pure joy and happiness it would make sense to want to find a way to make it happen,”  

“Yeah. Isn’t that what we’re all looking for?” Kiyoomi shrugged. 

“You mentioned mixed episodes? I was reading about them but I was pretty confused, I didn't really understand them…” Atsumu treaded carefully. 

Kiyoomi shook his head slightly, “Maybe another time. I don’t really want to get into that tonight…” 

“Yeah, no problem! Sorry if I crossed a line!”

“You sound so diplomatic,” He scoffed with a small smile pulling on his lips. 

“Is there any other ways you find that kind of happiness, that isn’t yknow… Making yerself manic?” Atsumu asked. It was his way of opening the conversation up to drugs. He had a feeling that he wasn't being as discreet as he wanted to be.

Kiyoomi scrunched his eyebrows, a frown sliding easily onto his face, “What are you trying to say?” 

Yeah, not so discreet, “Like, um, escapism things? Gaming? Music? BDSM? Drugs?” The last one was said so quickly you would barely be able to tell what was said if you didn't have laser focused ears like Kiyoomi did in the moment. 

“Is the food ready?” Kiyoomi asked instead, deflecting the question entirely. 

“Yeah,” Atsumu breathed out nervously. 

The conversation was disregarded and they ate in relatively tense silence. Kiyoomi offered a couple compliments regarding the food, which Atsumu counted as a win despite the atmosphere. 

After the meal they both returned to the couch with a glass of wine. 

“So…” Atsumu started. 

“If you have a question, don't beat around the bush,” Kiyoomi said firmly. 

“Okay…” Atsumu paused, not sure how the fuck he was going to go about this, “Kiyoomi, I really want this to work. I just... Need to start this relationship with full honesty and just, everythin' out in the open… So please, don’t take this the wrong way… Are you doing drugs?”  

Kiyoomi looked at the ceiling before taking a slow sip of the wine. Everything he told himself came back to him on loop. The need to keep this from Atsumu, not wanting to manipulate him… He was caught though. What more could he do?

If he lied now and got caught later there would be no restoration. How would Atsumu ever forgive him? He couldn’t start this off poorly, he needed to be honest. If Atsumu left him… Well, there are other teams he could join but… 

“Yes.” His voice was unwavering. 

“Okay,” Atsumu let out out a breath he didn't know he was holding, “fuck. Okay,” he whispered. 

“Is that a deal breaker for you? Should I start packing my bags?” he pointed over his shoulder.

“No, Omi, please. I really like you. I want to be here for you and support ya in any way that you need. I just… I’m still learning… And… Can I ask… What you think about your drug use?” Kiyoomi had never been asked that question, he thought it was a bit of an odd question. He was a little thrown off guard. He took a second to think about his answer, the question was vague, open ended. 

He tried to answer honestly, “I… know that I'm an addict. But... right now I don't know if I want to be sober… I don’t like how I feel sober. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but I- I know that you want the truth,” 

Atsumu inhaled shakily, “Okay,” It hurt to hear the honest words Kiyoomi had to share but it was better than him lying and having him sneak around behind his back, right? At least now Atsumu can be there for him and make sure he has someone so he doesn’t take it too far. 

The lack of response had Kiyoomi panicking, he wished he had his pills. He tried backtracking, he couldn't ask this of Atsumu, to stay with him? He was too much... “You don’t have to stay with me, Atsumu. I have a lot of baggage. You shouldn't have to deal with this. I’m sorry. We’re not even offic-” He rambled.

“Stop it," Atsumu cut him off firmly. His face was that of concern. He moved slowly so his shoulders were square with Kiyoomi's vulnerable frame, he was curled in on himself as if trying to make himself smaller to disappear, "Hug?” he said quietly. 

Kiyoomi's face tried to hide the emotions he was feeling, but Atsumu saw the quick quiver of his chin and subtle furrow of his eyebrows as if trying not to cry. Kiyoomi set down his wine glass and nodded weakly, his lips, as naturally pouty as they were, got even more pouty as Atsumu pulled him close to his chest. 

They ended up lying on the couch, Atsumu embracing Kiyoomi tightly, refusing to let go despite the slight pull back. “About the official thing…” Atsumu said quietly next to Kiyoomi’s ear. 

“Yuck, don’t talk in my ear,” Kiyoomi tried to shrug him away. 

Atsumu chuckled, “Is that a yes?” 

“If it will make you stop,” Kiyoomi said, bringing one hand to cover the ear Atsumu was speaking into. The chuckle from Atsumu's chest vibrated onto Kiyoomi’s back. He felt a flood of warmth and connection he hadn’t felt before with any of his previous partners, sober or in a mental state generally not heightened. He sighed happily and melted into the arms of his boyfriend, things felt like they were looking up... 

With that sudden thought Kiyoomi had a sudden sense of dread. No. He had to push that away. He was allowed to have good things… 

The next morning Atsumu's alarm blared throughout the room in an attempt to wake them up but Kiyoomi was already awake. He was staring at the ceiling with a grimace on his face.

“Are you okay?” Atsumu asked, turning on his side to face him. He laid his hand on Kiyoomi’s bare chest, “you’re sweaty,” he noted with a frown. 

“Yep,” Kiyoomi said, with a snappish tone. He sat up, immediately regretting the quick action as he felt a rush of nausea run through him. 

“Omi?” Atsumu rushed over to the bathroom door the other man locked himself in, “are you okay? Do you need to skip practice?” 

“No, I’m fine. Just nauseous,” he mumbled. 

“I’ll make you some coffee, yeah?” Atsumu offered. 

“Thanks,” Kiyoomi said as he stared at himself in the mirror. It’s been over 24hrs since he had any opioids. Despite the mental withdrawal he forgot how annoying the physical symptoms were. God he needed a damn pill. 

He wiped his forehead with a cold wet cloth and left the bathroom, ignoring the cramps starting to make themselves known. 

“You alright?” Atsumu asked as Kiyoomi sat at the table. Wordlessly, Kiyoomi held up a thumb and hid his face in his arms on the table. “Wanna talk 'bout it?” Atsumu offered, sliding a mug of coffee to him. Kiyoomi looked up at the coffee and picked it up to lightly blow on it. 

“I woke up in the middle of the night,” he shrugged, “nightmare. And… yeah,” he trailed off. Leaving out another main reason for his behaviour.  

“Yeah? That everythin’?” Atsumu mumbled into his cup, staring right into Kiyoomi's eyes. 

“I honestly don’t think you’d want to know,” Kiyoomi said, sipping on the hot coffee. He avoided eye contact like the plague.

“I want to know how your mind works… I want to understand, so I can be here for you,” he stressed. 

“Starting to sound like a psychologist,” he grumbled.

“What? No, no, don’t say that. I’m not trying to therapize you! I swear- I just want, I care abou-”

“Calm down,” Kiyoomi smirked. The smirk faded as he played with the handle of the mug, “I’m having withdrawals. I haven’t had anything in, like, over 24 hours,” he gnawed on his lip. 

Atsumu nodded, he tried hiding the hurt he felt, “Can I ask why you went so long without anything?” 

Kiyoomi looked up, unsure, “Um, I didn’t want to come here high. I didn’t think I was going to stay over…” Atsumu nodded, encouraging him to speak, “I have minor withdrawals often but I never usually go this long without anything” 

“Okay... What do you want to do?” 

“I won’t be able to play like this,” Atsumu nodded slowly, asking once again if he should stay home instead, “No, I can’t. I don’t want to be alone.” And fuck, did that ever break Atsumu’s heart. 

“Okay, but we need a plan, Omi. I don’t like seeing you in pain. What if you said you hurt your wrist or something… you can still come to practice, just watch,” 

Kiyoomi took a couple breaths, “I’m going to say something, and you have to promise not to get mad,” Atsumu shut his mouth and listened, “I’m going to go to my apartment and take some pills. I’ll get dressed and we can go. Okay?” 

“Omi…” 

“I can’t do anything else Atsumu, you don’t ge-” His voice started to raise in volume, his frustration became more apparent.

“Listen, I’m not mad,” Atsumu reached over, placing a hand on Kiyoomi’s, “I’m going to support your decision. You know your tolerance and body best, okay? Just… Don’t overdo it. Will you be able to play with the pills? Here- let me get ready, I'll come with you,” Atsumu said. 

He got up from the table and undid the robe he was wearing. He pulled on a shirt from the dresser and changed his boxers before pulling on joggers and a hoodie. He grabbed his gym bag, Kiyoomi’s clothes from last night and slipped on his runners. 

“Let’s go,” he opened the door, gesturing Kiyoomi out so they could walk over to his place down the hall. When he unlocked the door he left his gym bag and shoes by the front door and threw Kiyoomi’s clothes in the dirty hamper. 

“You can wait in the living room,” Kiyoomi mumbled. 

Atsumu looked at the couch for a couple seconds before looking back at Kiyoomi who looked beaten down and defeated. “I want to make sure you’re safe… You shouldn’t do drugs alone, I read,” Kiyoomi rolled his eyes and walked to the bathroom, Atsumu followed. 

“I feel like you just want to see the drugs. Like you’ve never seen pills before,” He mumbled as he opened the cabinet Atsumu had once snooped through without consent. Atsumu made no move to correct Kiyoomi and looked at all the pill bottles in front of him. Kiyoomi opened another drawer where more bottles were that Atsumu hadn’t previously seen. 

He pulled out one of the labelled bottles and one of the unlabelled, “Have a gander,” Kiyoomi joked darkly while displaying his bottles of drugs. 

“What are you taking now?” Atsumu asked cautiously.

“My antipsychotics and oxy,” he said, rattling the bottle. 

“You snort it, right? That’s why you get nosebleeds?” Atsumu questioned softly.

Kiyoomi looked over as he was pouring out a pill from the first bottle, “Um, yeah sometimes,” He opened the other bottle. 

“Sometimes?” 

“I’m not going to right now, if that’s what you’re asking.” Kiyoomi scoffed, “I’m not trying to get high right this second, I’m trying to get rid of these withdrawal symptoms so I can function,” He grabbed a cup from the side of the sink and filled it with water. "I rotate how I take the drugs so I don't fuck up my nose any more that it is," he mumbled. Atsumu barely heard him as he saw him toss the pills in his mouth.

“Wait what dose is th-” 

Before he could finish the sentence Kiyoomi had swallowed the pills, “Don’t worry about it,” Atsumu nodded slowly and looked back at all the bottles. He picked up the bottle with the long pills, the xanax. “Those are xanax,” Kiyoomi said simply. 

“Right… Are all of these different?” 

Kiyoomi shrugged, “Yeah, my go to’s are oxy and xanax. Adderall if I want to trigger an episode,” He pointed to the bottle that Akaashi had recognized, “Also have valium, ativan, morphine, dexedrine, a couple mdma pills. In some of those vitamin bottles I’ve got… Well, not vitamins.” He said lazily, pointing to the different bottles.

“You’ve got a whole fucking pharmacy,” Atsumu said in shock and disbelief, “What’s in the vitamin bottles?”

“I have money and an addiction, what do you expect?” Kiyoomi shrugged, leaving the bathroom and shutting off the light with Atsumu still in it. 

“The vitamins?” He asked again, following Kiyoomi into his room like a lost puppy. 

Kiyoomi stripped his (Atsumu’s) shirt off and opened his drawer for a clean one, “Powders,” He mumbled and threw on a shirt as he saw Atsumu looking at his rolling tray he had left out on his bedside table. There was nothing overtly criminal on it other than some ‘dust’ residue and a short paper straw. 

“Powders,” Atsumu repeated deadpan. Kiyoomi raised his eyebrows at him before making a hand gesture to him to turn around so he could change his pants. Atsumu rolled his eyes but faced a blank wall, “Do you not smoke weed?” He asked curiously.

Kiyoomi opened his closet and pulled out a glass vase and placed it on the dresser next to Atsumu, in his peripheral vision. Atsumu’s eyes widened at the big glass jar full of weed and he turned to Kiyoomi with a slack jaw. Behind Kiyoomi however Atsumu looked into the closet and saw another, smaller jar full of what looked like crystals. “Meth?” His eyes felt like they bulged out of his head. 

Kiyoomi turned to look at what Atsumu was looking at and he let out a little ‘ah’ before shutting his closet doors. He threw on a hoodie ignoring the exclamation Atsumu made. “Dude, don’t ignore me, crystal meth?” 

“What happened to the non judgemental Atsumu,” Kiyoomi grumbled, pushing past him. 

“I’m not judging, I'm just so surprised… You don’t loo-”

“Don’t finish that,” Kiyoomi warned, “You can’t look like a drug user. Not all drug users look the same, Atsumu,” 

“No, obviously I know that,” He stressed.

 “Atsumu… It’s okay to acknowledge that you still have biases. Drugs are stigmatized. People have bad views on drugs. Just because you’re learning about substance use or whatever, doesn’t mean all those years of stigmatizing brainwash will just evaporate,” Kiyoomi stated. He grabbed his gym bag and started walking to the front door. 

“When I was looking for alternatives for meth, you know what I learned?” He asked, turning to Atsumu with a look saying ‘this piece of knowledge will blow your mind’, “The chemical compounds of methamphetamine and adderall are very similar. They’re cousins, basically. Meth is basically just more potent,” 

“So adderall is legal meth?” Atsumu concluded. Kiyoomi shrugged and nodded his head before he slipped on his shoes, “That’s… Pretty wild…” They left the complex and started walking to the gym, “How are you feeling?” 

“I think I placebo’ed myself into thinking I’m better than I actually am,” Kiyoomi said jokingly. 

“Does it not kick in this fast?” 

“Not if you take it orally,” Kiyoomi shrugged.

“Oh. You said earlier you rotate routes, right?" Kiyoomi hummed affirmatively, "Because of your nose?" 

"When I got into more illicit drugs I fell in love with the feeling of snorting stuff," Kiyoomi wrinkled his nose in distaste, "I didn't know at the time that if you do it too much it can really mess up your nose. It started hurting all the time, I got nose bleeds a lot, and often got nose infections. I had to start making sure the powders were crushed extra well so I didn't cause too many micro tears, and had to start clearing my nose with sterile water after snorting," He shrugged. 

"What other kinda ways have you taken… stuff?” Atsumu asked awkwardly. It was obvious he was asking if he had ever used needles but didn't want to come out and say it. 

Kiyoomi was aware of this too, “What ways do you know of?” he asked back instead. 

“Um, I mean I've been doing a lot of research so I think I know quite a bit,” 

“Well, then you probably know of all the ways I’ve tried before,” He said matter of factly.  

“Wha- You’ve done…?” 

“Anally? Yes, pervert. Best way to get a morphine high- in my personal experience and opinion,”  

“You know that’s not what I'm asking…” Atsumu grumbled, kicking a rock on the ground. 

“I know,” he sighed, “What did I say about beating around the bush? But yes, I've experimented with intravenous injections before,” Kiyoomi said, “Hurt like hell trying to play volleyball the next day. It took a couple tries because my hands were shaky,” 

“Did no one notice? The marks?” He asked, shocked. 

“‘The nurse who did my blood work was still in training’,” He mocked his younger self, “I wore long sleeves on court anyway. I didn't do it often but if I did it was when I didn't have volleyball right after. Or my boyfriend, at the time, helped me inject other places,” He shrugged.  

“He helped you?” Atsumu had a look of disgust on his face. His boyfriend helped and enabled his drug use?

“Yeah, I mean it was better than me going at my throat with a needle by myself,” He laughed. Atsumu did not laugh. He nudged the blonde with his elbow slightly, “I only did the neck like twice. I don’t use needles anymore, Atsumu. You can laugh, I was reckless back then,” He shrugged.

“I just can’t believe he injected you. That’s so… Gross… Enabling that kind of thing…” 

Kiyoomi sighed, “It was a two way street,” Atsumu looked over to Kiyoomi in shock, “I was friends with a lot of people who were drug addicts, Atsumu. It’s just the stuff we did. 

“If anything it was, like, a show of ‘love’ and trust. I didn’t let just anyone shoot me up. We were going to do the drugs anyway. It’s safer for someone else to do it for you sometimes,” Atsumu’s stomach felt twisted up thinking about Kiyoomi doing all these things. Kiyoomi nudged him again, “Come on, we’re here. Stop looking like I kicked a puppy. I’m alive,” Atsumu grunted in response and held the door open for Kiyoomi.

The practice went on better than Atsumu was expecting. The only thing that raised a red flag to Atsumu was Kiyoomi’s stamina. He was getting tired quickly. He seemed to be huffing and puffing all practice and stumbling a bit more than usual. 

Other than that, Kiyoomi seemed like he was in a good mood, he seemed more sociable and less like someone broke the glass of his fish tank. Big improvement from this morning. 

Atsumu, on the other hand, felt grumpy. He hated going to practice on an empty stomach, he kept feeling the grumbles and groans of his stomach as it ate itself. Bokuto and Hinata just laughed at his pain as they listened to him complain about his lack of nutrients. Like bullies. 

During cool down stretches Atsumu sat down next to Kiyoomi, his eyes found their way to the man's outstretched arms. He never paid much attention to his arms, he never had a reason to. He didn't know why so many people found 'arm veins' so attractive on people so he never looked to see if Sakusa's arm veins were prominent.

Looking at his arms now with the knowledge that there were once needles in them, pushing illicit substances... It gave him shivers down his spine but also he noticed something he hadn't before. He had scars. Now, Atsumu wasn't an expert on track marks. He barely understood what the term was until he did his deep dive into drugs but if he looked close enough he would be a fool to think they were anything else knowing what he knew now. 

The scars were faded, white scars, indicating the age of them. Some were around the crease of his elbow where his veins were, some ran down his forearm. There were one or two scars that looked bigger than the others, Atsumu assumed it was where he injected more often when he did. One looked a bit concave if he squinted. He wasn’t close enough to make out the details. 

There were three minor hyper pigmentation spots of blue Atsumu could see. He didn’t know exactly what they were but he had noticed them before. They never raised any alarm in his mind, they kind of just looked like little bruises. Seeing how they’re still there he knew there must be more to the story.  

He must've been caught staring because Kiyoomi’s arm was suddenly jerked away from his line of vision. Atsumu looked up at his face with wide eyes and saw Kiyoomi scowling, clearly trying to hide his arm away from Atsumu's sight, he was clearly uncomfortable. 

Atsumu didn't know why he thought his follow up question was a good idea considering circumstances but he couldn't help but wonder, “Are you an alcoholic too?” he whispered.

“Dude,” He said, clearly agitated, “Really?” With a swift eye roll he scooted away from him and continued his stretching alone. 

Atsumu frowned but in retrospect he knew he was definitely in the wrong. He was making Kiyoomi uncomfortable by staring at physical manifestations of past and current struggles and then publicly asked him if he was an alcoholic. He would be mad at himself too.

“Did Sakusa just call you ‘dude’?” Inunaki laughed, “Aren’t you two, like, dating?” Atsumu felt his face flame up. 

“Fuck off,” he muttered.

On the walk back to the apartment complex Hinata and Bokuto were walking ahead talking about an anime they were both watching that neither Kiyoomi or Atsumu knew of. So, they kept to themselves, “I’m not an alcoholic anymore, by the way,” He answered the question that was asked nearly an hour ago. 

"Anymore?"

"Beginning of Uni, I drank almost every night. I was getting cross faded and forgetting so much... Started to affect my school work. I tried cutting down to only when partying but then I started hooking up a lot and I couldn't do it sober or just high, I needed to be drunk too. 

“Then I had a couple boyfriends that I couldn't stand sober," Kiyoomi scoffed, "Then came the last boyfriend. I got sober from alcohol, mostly. It was easy once I was able to compensate with other stuff. He hated when I drank and I lived with him, so," Kiyoomi shrugged. 

"Point of the story is that alcohol isn't an issue anymore. Caused a lot of issues at the time but I'm good with it now," 

 “Ah..." Atsumu said thoughtfully. Then a sleazy smile broke out on his face, "Very good, as we did get together because of alcohol,” he pointed out as a matter of fact. 

“Yuck,” Kiyoomi jokingly grimaced. 

Atsumu thought about what Kiyoomi said, “Do you still party often? I feel like I don't know anything about what you do outside of volleyball. You know, like, everything about me,” Atsumu pouted. 

“Somethings I wish I could forget,” He sighed. Kiyoomi took the body check that Atsumu gave him and they kept walking side by side, their clothes brushing up against each other by sheer proximity, “You’ve been catching up. There’s a lot you don’t know about me... Some things I’m scared will scare you off,” 

“I don’t scare easily, you should see me on halloween, tough as nails,” 

“Sure. I’ll pretend I don’t know you're terrified of horror movies,” Kiyoomi scoffed. Confirming his suspicion that Osamu told the team about his distaste for the genre. 

“I don’t party much anymore. Most of my friends outside of volleyball use drugs so when I was trying to cut down my use and focus on volleyball I wasn’t able to hang out with them as much. I still like going to concerts and festivals with them, those are still the best drug experiences,” 

“I cannot imagine you at a concert or festival,” Atsumu said dumbfounded.

“I’m sure there’s a lot of things I’ve done that you wouldn't have imagined,” He pointed out.

“True. The first time you came to practice manic we thought the world had flipped upside down. It was like a whole different person than who we knew ya ta be,"

“What happened the first time? I don't have the best memory of all my episodes honestly,” 

“Um, you were there super early, very sweaty from working out for however long you were before practice started. You were very energetic and excitable, talking to everyone and suggesting plays that were way out of reach... Then at the end of practice you kind of flipped and were snapping at everything basically,” Kiyoomi cringed, “Then you were back to being chatty. 

“When we got back to the apartment there were loads of packages waiting for you that we had to help you bring up. We saw a bunch of papers on your table of research you said you did the night before, it was all really poorly written notes of plays from previous games," Atsumu scoffed. 

“And somehow you still fell for me. Embarrassing,” Kiyoomi teased. 

“Says the one who threw drinks down my throat to get me to sleep with him,” Atsumu said jokingly. 

Kiyoomi's pace slowed down, “Is that how you saw it all happen?” They were getting closer to the apartment complex and Bokuto and Hinata turned around to speak to them but retreated once realizing that their conversation looked to be getting more serious. 

“Well, not exactly…” he chuckled awkwardly.

“Atsumu, I’m so sorry… I wasn’t - I hope you know I'd never try to force myself onto you. I do such stupid stuff when I’m manic… That’s not to try and excuse what I did, I just-” Atsumu could see the stress and guilt accumulating within him, “When I'm like that I just want everyone to feel as good as I am… and I overdid it with the drinks… I… Fuck- I’m so sorry, Atsumu,” 

They were stationed outside of the apartment complex facing each other. Kiyoomi was looking anywhere but Atsumu’s eyes, his body tense and uncomfortable.

“I didn’t feel pressured to drink. I could’ve said no whenever I wanted to," Kiyoomi seemed as if he was repressing a build up of emotion that Atsumu couldn't pinpoint. He softly put his hands on the sides of his shoulders, rubbing them up and down, "I’m not scared of you, I could pin you down whenever I wanted,” Atsumu said, trying to lighten the atmosphere with a small smile, “Just because I don't remember doesn’t mean I hold any grudges, we were both wasted,” 

“I remember more than you do, I’m the one who took advantage of you,” Kiyoomi felt tears of frustration border his eyes. Atsumu was slightly startled, he looked around to check if there were any bystanders that could’ve overheard them. 

“C’mon now. Let’s go inside and talk, alright?” Atsumu gave his arms one last squeeze and led Kiyoomi with a hand on the middle of his back. His thumb rubbed small circles as they ascended the elevator to Kiyoomi’s place. 

Kiyoomi felt his gut twist with anxiety, he felt disgusting. Whenever he thought back to that day the majority of it was positive memories. Sure, there was a part of him that was upset that Atsumu didn’t remember the night but at the end of the day it all worked out in the end so he was content. 

Knowing that Atsumu felt like he got him drunk and took him home made him sick to his stomach. He wishes he could go back and slap himself, tell himself to ease off the shots, stop being so damn impulsive. It wasn’t like he didn’t have regrets that night. His bank did suffer a big hit from all the rounds he bought, said some stupid stuff and he did have some gaps in his memory.

He didn’t sleep much so he sobered up while awake and kept replaying his time spent with Atsumu, that’s probably why he remembers most of it. He remembers Atsumu’s words afterwards so clearly. His ‘confession’ which in hindsight, he maybe shouldn’t have taken too seriously at the time.

However, at the time he felt like everyone was swooning over him, everyone was basically dropping to their knees to sleep with him. He was the main attraction in the bar that night, the spotlight was on him... So, of course the man he brought home would try to cuff him… And he let him, because even when he’s hypomanic he’s whipped for the blonde. 

When they got inside Atsumu sat Kiyoomi on the couch and went to get a glass of water, when he returned Kiyoomi was gone. 

“Omi?” He looked towards the hallway where he saw the light of the bathroom turned on, oh, “hey,” he said quietly as he approached the slightly open door. Kiyoomi was sitting on the lid of the toilet with a bottle of the xanax in his hand. 

He popped open the pill bottle and took out two pills and one that was already broken in half.

“Two an’ a half?” Atsumu asked nervously. Atsumu didn’t know much about benzo overdoses but he knew that naloxone did not work in reversing them. 

He looked at the pills in his hand and wordlessly dropped the half back in the bottle. He reached for the glass in Atsumu’s hand and tossed the two pills in his mouth before drinking them down. “It’s fine,” he muttered seeing Atsumu’s worried face. 

Atsumu nodded wearily before reaching for the bottle in Kiyoomi’s hand and putting it back in the cabinet. They moved to the living room where Atsumu sat down and patted his thighs. Kiyoomi looked at them blankly. He sat down next to Atsumu, “Lay down. Let me play with yer hair,” he said simply. Kiyoomi complied. 

About 15 minutes went by in mostly silence, Kiyoomi had his eyes closed but would crack them open whenever Atsumu would whisper his name. 

Kiyoomi understood why Atsumu was doing this. He was checking to see if he was responsive, he thought it was cute, despite the fact Atsumu was anxious about Kiyoomi dying on him. 

As Kiyoomi laid on Atsumu's lap he debated whether or not he should share a piece of his past. It felt like this was all he's doing the past few weeks. It was exhausting. Being close to someone and allowing them in creates more opportunities for them to see things that will prompt deeper parts of you to surface. It was scary. 

Kiyoomi's past wasn't great. He was aware of this. It wasn't fun to recount and he knew it couldn't be fun to listen to. How is someone supposed to react when you tell them all these things about yourself? He felt bad for putting Atsumu in such a position. At the same time though, Atsumu asked to be put there. He asked to know the good, the bad, the ugly... Unfortunately there seems to be far more bad and ugly than good...

The way Kiyoomi reacts to things today stems from his past, as all of us do. Our past experiences and lessons allow us the ability to navigate the world and how we react in our future situations. When our past was filled with such traumatizing events, things that our minds weren't equipped to deal with or never healed from, how we deal with them today or in the future may not be how others deem correct or ideal. 

When Kiyoomi heard Atsumu's joke about forcing himself on him the night of their hook up, Kiyoomi wasn't prepared to handle it. His past experiences were brought to the surface, he got defensive, he panicked. He couldn't be like them. He couldn't be like the people who hurt him, he would never forgive himself...

Chapter Text

Kiyoomi’s trust was fragile. Despite his foggy memory some of his core memories were those of betrayal. He didn’t really know what that meant psychologically but he didn’t like dwelling on it.

In the first stage of Erik Erikson’s Eight stages of Psychosocial Development he theorized that within the first 18 months of being alive, the way your caregivers respond to your needs will determine the security of trust you have in future relationships. This is to say, if you were neglected or lacked some basic needs you’ll grow up to be suspicious of others, your trust will be flaky… 

Kiyoomi obviously doesn’t remember the actions of his parents back when he was under two years old but he truly believes he had a relatively good upbringing. There was no abuse he could personally point out, nothing that raised red flags in comparison to the lives of others. 

He grew up with privilege, he was well aware of this fact. He lived in the city, he went to a private school, lived in a house others might refer to as a ‘mansion’... His parents had names that were well known in their line of work. Money was never an issue, food was never scarce… 

His parents might have been gone a lot but it didn’t matter much to him. He was able to do things by himself. He was a responsible kid. Some people might think it was sad leaving your kid alone for most of the week. But Kiyoomi understood. His parents were out making money so they could keep food on the table. When they were home it was only fair that they were tired and didn’t want to hang out with him. He could find his own fun. 

His siblings never liked playing with him. They were older and thought that he was kind of annoying. If he was around when they had brought their friends over he would end up being the butt of the joke or the one who had to get them food and water. 

But, he owed it to them. He knew that when his parents weren’t home when he got injured and needed first aid, his siblings would help. So, it was only fair. 

The first time he remembers his trust being broken was when his father had told him he would be home one night to watch a movie with him. He was so excited. He set the living room up to be comfortable, had popcorn ready with a variety of powder flavour packets his dad could choose from… 

But he didn’t come home that night. Kiyoomi fell asleep waiting in the front room of the house. The next morning he woke up to the front door opening. 

“Dad?” Kiyoomi asked, peering through the walkway. 

“Hey buddy. What are you doing up so early?” 

Kiyoomi frowned and felt his lip wobble ever so slightly, “I thought we were going to have movie night. You were supposed to be home last night…” 

“Oh man!” He said with no sympathy, “Got caught up with work. Next time buddy. I promise,” He held out his pinky finger, bending down to wrap it around Kiyoomi’s small one. Kiyoomi looked at it hesitantly before accepting. 

Had Kiyoomi kept to the old rules of pinky promises his father would be with one less pinky. 

His trust since that moment on had never been the same. It was a rude awakening to the fact people could say one thing but do something completely different. How are you supposed to know who is genuine? Who’s going to keep their promise, their loyalty to you… keep your dignity safe? 

Sometimes you just have to take the leap and hope for the best, even if it feels like your shoes are stuck in the concrete. 

cw/tw: brief descriptions of non-con drugging & ‘gang rape’

To skip go to next bolded line “No wonder he acted how he did”

“I’ve been taken advantage of before,” Kiyoomi said after a while of silence. Atsumu didn’t dare say a word, “They were people I thought I could trust. I had just started to trust a bit… 

“They had given me reliable products before, but one day they gave me something that was laced. A date rape drug probably… I’m still not sure what it was. 

“They waited for me to take the first hit. And then when it started to take effect… They dragged me to a room.” Kiyoomi turned on his side to pull himself closer to Atsumu.

He combed his fingers through Kiyoomi’s hair slowly as he continued to listen quietly, “I felt so weak, I couldn’t move, or scream for help. Everything was hazy but I could remember more than I wish I could... 

“All I could do was lay there like a puppet. I was praying to a god that I don't believe in to take pity on me and give me some strength back,”

Kiyoomi shook his head as he felt Atsumu’s hand grip onto his hair a bit tighter, “In that moment I wished that I had taken enough to have overdosed or black out… Just so I didn’t have any memory of it. But it was like they dosed it to give me the worst experience they could,”

“You’re nothing like them, Omi,” Atsumu whispered, combing through his hair once again.

“I have nightmares. That I'm back there in that old, gross house. Sometimes I’m the victim, helpless, screaming but no one cares. They just watch... The people I care about the most, just watching and laughing. But the worst part is when I’m the villain,”

Atsumu felt his heart sink with each word he spoke. He couldn’t imagine living such a traumatic event and then having to relive it in your dreams. Nevermind, having the tables turn and have your brain make you feel like you’re the villain. 

It was like his brain was trying to make him feel all the guilt of the trauma which he should never even have in the first place, since he didn’t do anything.

 No wonder he acted how he did when Atsumu brought up their first hook up.

 “I want you to know that prior to us ever sleeping together, I had been heels overhead for you for the longest time. Us sleeping together is one of the best things that came out of drinking. Please don’t feel like you’ve done something wrong.” Atsumu tried to get his point across.

Would Atsumu redo the night over if he had a chance? Yes. But none of what he wanted to redo was the fault of Sakusa. 

He was radiant that night, smiling, laughing… Atsumu couldn’t stop staring. 

So of course when the shots started coming out Atsumu started drinking them. He kept feeling the urge to kiss him. He knew he couldn’t, he needed a distraction, so he drank more. He took Kiyoomi up on his alcoholic drink offers and drank until he forgot.

If he could redo it he would just bask in the light of Kiyoomi’s glow that night. Why didn’t he just take a couple shots and allow himself to admire from afar? Kiyoomi wasn’t overly paying attention to him until the end of the night when one of them sat next to the other (Atsumu doesn’t remember who initiated it). 

The last thing he remembers clearly is the warmth from Kiyoomi’s body heat next to his and staring at his side profile until he was staring back at him, whispering something in his ear.

“I wish there was somethin’ I could do for you. Take your hurt away,” Atsumu whispered, his thumb tracing over his temple softly. Kiyoomi let out a noise of acknowledgment and nuzzled his face into Atsumu’s touch, “I’ll never let someone touch you like that again,” he stated firmly. His fingers finding their way back into his hair soothingly.

 “I wanna sleep,” Kiyoomi mumbled into Atsumu’s shirt.

 “Omi... I dunno how comfortable I am with that right now,” he murmured back. 

Kiyoomi rolled on his back and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, “I’m alive. I’m tired from practice and not sleeping well,” Kiyoomi purposefully left out the fact that the xanax wasn’t helping him stay awake. He noticed Atsumu nervously gnawing on his lip so he sighed, “I have an Apple watch. Here…”

 He fiddled with the watch he was wearing for a second before showing him the screen where his heart rate was displayed, “There’s my heart rate now. If you want to check it at any time just press this button and go to this icon,” He showed him the icon with a little heart, “you can also check my breathing if you’re anxious. Or pop a couple xannies,” He smiled lazily.

 “Funny,” Atsumu deadpanned.

 “Put on a show and let me rest my eyes?” He practically begged, “It’s exhausting unloading all my baggage,”

 “Okay, just make it so your wrist is accessible to me,”

 “Yeah yeah,” Kiyoomi shifted so he could do just that.

 “Should I watch that modern love episode?” Atsumu asked.

“No,” Kiyoomi mumbled, “I’ll watch it with you,”

Atsumu nodded despite Kiyoomi having his eyes closed. He tried pushing his anxieties down, reminding himself that Kiyoomi did this daily by himself. He knew his body and his tolerance better than Atsumu did. 

He reminded himself that being nervous was okay but he also read that while being a ‘trip sitter’ for someone projecting those anxieties onto the person who was high was a bad idea.

 He understood the logic behind why, but he had only really heard it being talked about with drugs not in the realm of benzodiazepines so maybe this was different? 

Benzos literally are for easing anxiety so he doesn’t think showing his nerves would freak Kiyoomi out too much, right?

Atsumu sighed and pulled out his phone. He decided to do more research on xanax since it feels like he had completely forgotten everything he had previously learnt about the drug.

One of the first warnings that showed up when doing his research was that it can slow or stop breathing, especially if there had been opioid use recently. Fuck. Research was a bad idea. He wishes he could erase that knowledge from his brain for the next while.

Atsumu ended up checking his heart rate probably every five minutes during the forty five minute nap before Kiyoomi grumpily woke up, “That was the worst nap ever,”

“What? why? My lap not comfy enough?” He joked. Feeling much more comfortable knowing he’s conscious.

“You’re not as stealthy as you think you are,” Atsumu pouted as he thought he was being the least disruptive he could be when checking the watch, “you didn’t have to check that often,”

“Sorry,” 

Kiyoomi sat up and placed a quick kiss on his cheek, “I understand. I’ll make us something to eat. Put on that Modern love show or whatever,” he waved his hand as he made his way to the kitchen. 

He had a fairly good view of the Tv from the kitchen so he would be able to multitask.

“Can I help ya in the kitchen? I don’t wanna feel like I’m watchin’ it alone,”

“Hm, I guess. I don’t really like cooking with people but we can try,” he shrugged, rummaging through the fridge.

Atsumu’s eyes lit up as he sprung from the couch with the remote. Kiyoomi suddenly felt that maybe it might be okay to cook with Atsumu. Or maybe he was just too charming to say no to.

After giving him a quick run down of the plan Atsumu nodded with determination and started playing the show once they both had their first tasks sorted and ready to begin. They watched the show in relative silence, only making comments on the food and Atsumu asking about what he should do next.

When Atsumu watched it previously he had only got 6 or 7 minutes into the episode so he hadn’t got through much of the story line, only really to the point where the main character had gotten a date with the man who caught her eye.

It was much more interesting watching the show with the accompanying facial expressions from Kiyoomi. There weren’t many, but he didn’t miss the subtle nods when ‘Lexi’, the main character, was talking about how she was feeling, which were clear symptoms of her mania.

Kiyoomi also couldn’t hide the raised eyebrows when the dance sequences and singing happened. It took everything in his power not to make some joke about Kiyoomi's dance numbers. Ultimately he refrained as he didn’t want to come off as insensitive.

When Lexi’s manic episode ended and her depression settled in, it was clear that Kiyoomi was having trouble watching. 

Atsumu ended up standing behind Kiyoomi with his chin on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his midriff. They didn’t say anything. Atsumu didn’t know what to say or if there really was anything he could say in the moment so he just let his comforting presence speak for him.

The scene where her date was visibly fed up with her behaviour and mood, was hard to watch. Atsumu wanted to just encourage Lexi to tell Jeff about her condition. But he knew it was a show and he literally couldn’t do anything to change whatever was going to happen. 

He also knew that telling someone something so vulnerable is a very difficult thing to do, especially since they had only just met. Atsumu wouldn’t know how to react if Kiyoomi told him about his bipolar and substance use disorder when they first met (had they met in different circumstances).

Realistically, he doesn’t think he would’ve been attached enough to stick around. He probably wouldn’t have cared enough to learn how to be the best partner for him.

“Jeff is attractive,” Kiyoomi said randomly when Lexi was talking about her history of her bipolar, Jeff nowhere in sight.

Atsumu scoffed, “That’s yer type?”

“Is he not everyone’s type?”

“Shaddup,” Atsumu rolled his eyes playfully. Adding some ingredients he chopped up into the pot. Once everything was put in the pot they put it on simmer and went to sit on the couch to watch the rest of the episode. 

As they were sitting down Lexi started talking about Jeff’s good qualities which prompted Kiyoomi to look over at Atsumu with an ‘I told you so’ look on his face. Atsumu hit him on the shoulder before leaning his head on the wrongfully abused arm. 

The show progressed into Lexi having another manic episode, it was expressed with a song which made Atsumu chuckle just a little. He realized, however, that Kiyoomi didn’t laugh or chuckle, not even a smile. He leaned up and saw Kiyoomi’s jaw was a bit tense, he reached over and paused the show just after the song ended. “You okay?” He checked in.

“Hm? Yeah. It’s just accurate,” He chuckled, it had a sad timber to it, “When she said she feels like she's in her own personal title sequence or whatever. It’s hard not to long for that feeling. I think anyone can relate to that though,” He shrugged.

“Yeah, maybe,” Atsumu hummed, “but I think, and I might be wrong, but this is just what I understand… It’s different for you and people with mood disorders… Like, sure everyone wants ta be happy and experience joy, but mania can be another level of intensity that not everyone understands.

“So where everyone wants joy, for people with bipolar, who experience bad lows, and can lose the concept of joy, I think it would be understandable to crave or strive for something higher than just that baseline t’compensate for that, yknow? Especially if yknow how good it can be,”

Kiyoomi stared at Atsumu in slight shock, his mouth opening and closing a couple times in an attempt to find a correct response, “How did you learn so much in so little time? My mom has known for years and still struggles to grasp the concept…”

“Oh, I jus’... dunno,” he trailed off awkwardly. 

“You’re kind of obsessed with me,” Kiyoomi teased, nudging him with his shoulder.

“I’ll shave yer head,” Atsumu grumbled while hitting play on the show and snuggling into Kiyoomi’s side. 

Lexi was getting ready for the date when she was reminded of a quote that made her entire mood switch. Atsumu kept Kiyoomi in his peripheral vision so he could sneak glances at his reaction. 

As Lexi lay on the floor of her bathroom crying, Atsumu felt his heart break and he fully looked over to Kiyoomi who was biting the inside of his cheek.

As Jeff walked away during the whole monologue Lexi gave about letting others see her for who she is, and allowing them to make up their own mind about her, Atsumu couldn’t help the tear that slid down the side of his face.

It was a touching monologue, and though he didn’t have the exact situation as the character on screen it was easy enough to connect with the emotions being portrayed. He wanted to know how Kiyoomi felt about it but his face was stone, void of all emotion.

Atsumu nudged Kiyoomi’s thigh with his own trying to elicit a reaction of some kind. He simply got a nudge in return. They continued watching the show in silence as Lexi and her coworker sat at a coffee shop as she opened up about her bipolar for the first time. 

It was full of emotion and touching to see her coworker-turn-friend react so well with an open mind. When the episode ended they turned off the Tv and made their way to the kitchen to serve the food.

“So, how’d ya feel about the show?” Atsumu asked once they were settled.

“Are we having a debrief?”

“If ya want?”

With a swift shoulder shrug he took a second to think, “It was better than I expected. Triggering? A little. But overall I think the representation was good. 

“It seemed like she might have had bipolar 2 like me? They depicted a lot of positives during her manic states and if she had type 1 it probably would’ve been a lot more disruptive and more severe consequences.

“The fact that they didn’t show any other symptoms of hypomania other than the euphoric part and productivity is a bit upsetting. Personally, irritability and all that is so easily triggered during mania, even during my euphoric episodes.

“Her depressive episodes were what seemed to cause more distress in her life, which is usually what type 2 is, like, more known for?

“It also seems like they were showing rapid cycling. I don’t know if that was on purpose or just because it was one episode. I don’t know much about rapid cycling, I’m pretty sure I have it based on definitions I've read but not nearly as fast as that,” He explained.

Atsumu was listening intently, barely touching the food in front of him. He was taking in every new piece of information Kiyoomi would give him, “So it doesn’t actually happen so fast?”

Kiyoomi thought about that question for a second, having a couple bites of his food, “That’s kind of a complicated question.

“Diagnostically speaking, there are certain criteria that define everything. Bipolar 1 and 2, cyclothymia, whatever. All episodes have their own set of symptoms that label them as such.

“Depressive episodes have to last at least 2 weeks. Manic episodes last at least 7 days and hypomanic is at least 4 days I think,” He paused to think about how to explain his next point.

“I could go several days hypomanic then be thrown into a depressive episode for the next couple weeks, that’s common for me, it usually hits all required diagnostic criteria. But sometimes I’ll have a couple days of hypomania and then just plummet into a depressive episode. Technically the criteria of four days hasn’t been hit but the other symptoms have been. 

“I don’t know how doctors would classify it honestly. Living with it sure as hell feels just as intense though, even if it’s not as long,” he shrugged.

“Anyway, when I’m manic I don’t think- I usually don’t switch to a depressive episode on that same day- when I’m awake. I get irritated and, well, you know. But It’s a gradual thing. And I've never been depressed and suddenly had a burst of energy enough to break me out of it,”

“So, mixed episodes? Are you comfy talkin’ about them yet?”

Kiyoomi inhaled, “Mixed episodes suck. It was the first time I was hospitalized,” Kiyoomi laughed sourly and shook his head, “Basically imagine someone depressed, okay? Then give them the energy of someone who’s manic,”

Atsumu’s eyes widened slightly, “That sounds kinda dangerous,”

“Yeah. Normally when my depression is bad my brain fog is very prevalent, my mind moves slow, I feel like I’m running on empty, I sleep a lot… 

“But when I’m mixed… I have racing thoughts, but instead of all the creative, egotistical thoughts I have while hypomanic they’re the terrible thoughts one would have when you’re depressed.

“I’ll be up at night, walking around my apartment, trying to talk myself down from doing something when I know that I’m just a walking danger to myself. 

“And if you think I get snappy when I'm hypomanic then you do not want to see me when I’m mixed… You’re basically giving someone who might be a danger to themself energy and reckless impulsivity to act upon their thoughts.”

Atsumu was left speechless. Hearing people's mental health experiences was one thing but listening to the struggles from someone you care about puts everything in a whole different perspective. It hurts more thinking about how they must’ve reacted during those times.

It sounded scary, to have all those dark thoughts rolling around your brain constantly. He couldn’t imagine how alone Kiyoomi must’ve felt during those times. He wished he could have been there for him, “So, how- if ya don’t mind me asking, did you end up in the hospital?”

Kiyoomi hesitated. It was a vulnerable story to share but Atsumu was so willing to listen, to learn. He’s been so open to listening to him, about his past. No one ever seemed so genuinely interested in what he had to say about himself. He felt interesting for once, like what he had to say was valid, his experiences deserved to be heard.

He knew they weren’t particularly good table talk conversations but it was the first time Kiyoomi was comfortable sharing these stories out loud, it was therapeutic in a sense. It meant something to him also. Whether Atsumu understood the significance of the trust these stories held or not, Kiyoomi didn’t take it lightly. 

cw/tw: Descriptions of unsafe drug use, suicidal ideation/attempt, bad boyfriend. Throughout this whole flashback basically. Also some discussions after flashback.

It was the Christmas break of Kiyoomi’s first year of college. He couldn’t find a reason to go back home for the holidays. It wasn’t as if his parents had reached out and asked if he was coming anyway. 

Motoya was the only one who was adamant on seeing him during the break. Kiyoomi thought it was more of a selfish act. He understood it to a degree, Motoya was alone, his family was a bust and he had no one to go to so he turned to his only close blood relative. 

The only issue was, said blood relative ran out of meds and was planning on going on a bender in order to achieve what he hoped to be the best natural high. He had the relatively new hypothesis about the correlation between stimulant abuse and the absence of his psychiatric medications on his mind. He had the means to test it out. 

He ran out of his medication only a month into University. He was bordering on a depressive episode and hadn’t had the energy to get them refilled, so he never did. They got pushed to the back of his mind and lost into the abyss. 

He couldn’t start slacking on homework so soon in the semester though, so he popped a couple adderall for concentration every so often to push through. On a particular project he needed to finish in two days he stayed up consecutively until he finished with the help of the little pills. 

The following week his roommate stayed at his friend's house because he couldn’t handle the endless amount of men coming in and out of the dorm. He couldn’t stand the constant light on during the night because Kiyoomi wouldn’t sleep as he wasn’t tired and too fixated on some weird project he was suddenly obsessed with. 

The roommate requested a change after Kiyoomi’s hypomania faded and he ended up crashing. Kiyoomi’s side of the dorm was a mess as the depressive episode settled in sweetly beside him. Dirty dishes, seltzer cans, liquor bottles, dirty clothes, an ashtray full of joints stinking up the room… 

His roommate spat at him to actually do school work instead of partying before he moved out. Kiyoomi took those words into his mind. Curled up around them in the foetal position he found himself paralyzed in… Partying, huh?

When he made the connection between the stimulants and his hypomanic episode (with the minor help of Motoya and his concerned googling), his mind lit up with ideas. Christmas break was a month and a half away, he knew exactly how he was going to spend it. 

When he found a new dealer who lived near the University and started hanging out with his friends and people he started going to parties every weekend. He met the friends he would carry with him through his college days and the ones he would lose. 

When the word got out that he’s gay in the drug world he created around him, he was scared. He was aware that he was hanging out with gang members and people who were openly homophobic. He knew he was in a dangerous position, but he put out for basically anyone with a dick (and was coerced into sex with women a couple times but he didn’t like talking about that) and he had money so people didn’t want to lose him as a paying customer. 

When he was approached by a man with striking eyes and a flirty smile he got his first boyfriend. He was a dealer so their status was concealed and no one knew Kiyoomi- or ‘Shion’ as they all knew him as, was taken. They all thought he hit a dry spell though. 

When Christmas break started Kiyoomi didn’t hold back. With his knowledge of stimulants possibly triggering episodes he did way more than he should have. He truly believes that if he wasn’t an athlete and had a strong heart, it would’ve given up on him those few days. The stress would’ve been too much. 

Cocaine, meth, molly, we’re the big ones he took, alcohol was always a constant in his life before his third boyfriend so of course he had a cup of whatever in his hands at all times. Though alcohol wasn’t a stimulant, it was most likely a factor in the downfall. It was definitely a contributor to his heart's stress. Uppers and downers are never a good idea to mix. 

Sleep was barely seen unless it was a nap after sex or from passing out from either fatigue when drugs wore off before he reupped or maybe a brief seizure. Kiyoomi wasn’t sure, he was still alive though so it was all white noise to him. 

He was so sure that the end result of the bender would cause a euphoric hypomanic episode… Man was he mistaken. After he was released from the hospital he tried to understand what went wrong. Was it the MDMA? Everyone knows the repercussions of molly… The depression… But Kiyoomi had honestly never experienced a bad comedown from molly. He was always fine days after the drug. Better than fine… Hypomanic one might say. 

That being said, if he was euphoric as a repercussion from molly in the past instead of depressed like others then it couldn’t have been the molly. Right? He didn’t understand why he woke up in the morning after only a 12 hour sleep with the most dreadful feeling. 

It was worse than any hangover. At least with a hangover he knew what the shitty feelings were from. He understood where the nausea came from, the headache… The physical parts didn’t come close to the mental anguish he felt. It was way worse than his usual regretful morning-after self hate. 

He was wide awake, buzzing with energy despite all the sleep he lost. It wasn’t even like he slept as much as he usually does after a couple all nighters, he’s surprised he’s not still exhausted. It couldn’t be the drugs though. They’ve all worn off by now. He should be sleeping through the whole day.

He was in his boyfriend's bed, Yuujirou was heard rummaging around in the kitchen. The noises made Kiyoomi want to rip his head off, scream until his throat bled. His heart was racing in his chest, his mind was thinking of things far too dark considering how long ago he woke up. 

He was hyperventilating while sitting up in the bed, fists tightly gripping onto the sheets as if he would float away if not. His boyfriend walked into the room with a cup of coffee in his hand and a joint lit in the other. 

“Oh, hey,” He said casually. Kiyoomi’s eyes opened to shoot lazers at the man who seemed unbothered by the scene unfolding in front of him. He held out the joint to Kiyoomi, “You look like you need it,” 

The smell of weed filled Kiyoomi’s lungs and he wanted to knock the joint right out of his grip, “Fuck off,” Kiyoomi gritted out. 

“Alright, asshole,” Yuujirou mumbled before taking another drag. He sat next to Kiyoomi and placed the coffee on the side table before pulling out his phone, “I’ve got a drop of-”

“Stop fucking screeching will you?” He snapped, flipping his hand out to cover the ear his boyfriend was closest to. Everything was too loud, the sound of the sheets, the hum of the room, the cars outside… 

“Jesus, and they say women are bitchy,” he murmured under his breath. 

“Oh my god,” Kiyoomi went to pull at his hair. 

“Do you need something? A fucking advil? Oxy? Must be a bad fucking hang over. You’re never this much of a pussy,” His boyfriend was starting to get annoyed with Kiyoomi’s behaviour, it was obvious. But every additional word he said made Kiyoomi’s blood boil with rage, he felt himself start shaking out of anger. He wanted to snap, he felt like he was going to blow up. 

Kiyoomi kept his mouth shut and stood up. He walked to the ensuite and ran a bath. He tried to relax, put on music that usually calms him down, tried mindfulness or whatever the fuck his therapist goes on about. But his mind was too loud. It wouldn’t stop, it was like there was a Tv on in his mind that wouldn’t turn off no matter how many times he tried to click ‘mute’. 

The anger was settling at least, unfortunately it settled into the most uncomfortable feeling of dread. His skin felt like it was crawling. A shadow of hopelessness draped itself over his back, wrapped its arms around his torso so tightly he nearly forgot how to breathe. 

He felt himself curl in on himself, he wanted to bang his head against the wall, he wanted to hurt himself in any way he could. His mind was coming up with the easiest ways to make himself suffer. He wanted the pain, he wanted it all to stop. He wanted to run away and leave but he felt paralyzed, the weight of the world and responsibilities felt too much to bear. 

When he finally got out of the bath he was once again faced with his boyfriend. He was in the living room this time, his phone in his hand and some old rerun playing quietly on the TV. 

“He lives,” he mumbled, looking up from the screen. Kiyoomi stared at him with a blank look, “did you need some dope?” 

“What about some fucking compassion,” he under his breath before making his way to the kitchen. He heard Yuujirou laugh distantly. 

“Are you kidding me? Compassion? What are we? Some kids show? Shion, you’re a fucking adult, act like it, will you? I’m not your fucking caregiver. I don’t owe you shit,” 

“Why can’t you just be a decent fucking human? Just let me have emotions without making me feel like shit about them. For fucks sake man,” Kiyoomi turned to face him, his face flushed with the anger he had just gotten a hold of rising within him once again. 

Yuujirou was standing a couple feet behind him. They were about the same height but he had a few pounds of muscle on Kiyoomi. “A decent human? What are you tryin’ to say? I let you crash at my place for Christmas break and you come in here, bring down the mood and call me an asshole? I can show you what a fucking asshole looks like, Shion. I’ve never laid a hand on you. But god do you make me want to,” 

Kiyoomi’s stomach turned in disgust. His appetite was suddenly gone, he wanted to shrink into himself and disappear. He never wanted to rip off his skin more than he did at that moment. 

He knew Yuujirou wouldn’t hit him. He wasn’t like that. His words hurt though, they made him feel disgusting, made his mind spiral and race more than he thought was possible. 

When Yuujirou went to move to the kitchen, Kiyoomi flinched. He felt so jumpy and on edge. His boyfriend gave him a look of disgust, “I’m not going to fucking hit you,” 

Kiyoomi watched as his boyfriend took a seltzer from the fridge and poured it into a glass. He practically shoved it in Kiyoomi’s hand, “You need a fucking drink, man. I’m going to make a drop off. I’ll be back in 6 hours. You know where the guns are if anyone breaks in,” He said dismissively. Kiyoomi nodded, looking down at the drink in his hand. 

The following 6 hours consisted of him dissociating or drinking in an attempt to rid the feelings of emptiness and sorrow. He paced around the house trying to ignore his mind telling him to get the gun. He played music loudly to try and drown out his harrowing thoughts. 

It was past the time his boyfriend said he'd be home. Kiyoomi understood this as his way of abandoning him. He was too much to deal with so of course Yuujirou would leave him. Why would he want to come back to such a mess? 

Kiyoomi was sitting on the couch, a stupid movie he couldn’t care less about playing in the back. He looked around the house, everything a bit hazy through drunken eyes before deciding to say fuck it and went to fetch a needle. He slammed some meth on the first day of the bender so he had some bruising and a tiny scab on the inside of his elbow from where he injected it. 

He laid out the supplies he needed on the coffee table in front of him before he got to work. He had a spoon to heat the heroin that he basically stole from his boyfriend, ascorbic acid, a filter and sterile water. He measured out the heroin, he knew his limit and despite the suicidal thoughts he had he knew he couldn’t die in this moment. 

Once everything was loaded into the syringe he tied the tourniquet to be easily released with one tug and picked the vein to inject. Part of him wanted to inject the same place as he did the other day as it would hurt more but he decided against it. He used an alcohol swab on the area and waited for it to dry. 

When he was ready he tried to hit the vein but failed. He winced, pulling back and trying again. He poked, pulled on the plunger hoping to see the tell tale sign of blood in the syringe to let him know he hit the vein but he seemed to fail each time. 

He thought he was sober enough for this but his hand eye coordination proved to be failing by the several failed attempts and blood dripping from his arm from being poked at again and again. The jostling of the needle in his arm was probably more painful than he could register with the alcohol he had in his blood.  

He let out a grunt of frustration and pulled off the tourniquet. He felt tears brimming his eyes, he just wanted to get high, he just wanted the feeling of the liquid in his veins… 

Just then, as if a miracle in Kiyoomi’s eyes, the front door opened. Kiyoomi sobbed in relief, “Yuuji,” 

The man in question hesitantly walked into the living room with a couple grocery bags and a pack of cigarettes flicked open as if he was about to take one out and light it. “What’s going on here?” He raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. 

“Help me, please,” He begged. Holding the needle out to him along with his arm which had blood still actively dripping from it. 

“Shion…” 

“Please,” He sobbed. He was basically on his knees, begging.

“The needle is probably dull by now,” He inspected the needle tip and noted how it was considerably less sharp and it had a slight bend. 

“I’ll do anything, Yuuji,” His voice was breaking. Yuujirou looked down at the man with a slight head shake. 

“Fine. Get up,” He grabbed Kiyoomi’s hand and tugged him up gently, letting him sit down on the couch, “Where’s the tourniquet?” He mumbled looking around. Kiyoomi panicked, worried that if he didn’t find it right away Yuujirou would change his mind. It was under the coffee table, he held it up to the man still holding the needle. 

Yuujirou put down everything he was carrying except the needle and a single cigarette which he put in his mouth and lit with the lighter Kiyoomi used to heat up the heroin. Kiyoomi faced him and held his arm out waiting for him to tie the tourniquet around his arm. 

“Give me your other arm,” Yuujirou said, asking for his right. Kiyoomi wordlessly shook his head and stuck out his left arm even more, “You already fucked this one up. Give me your other one,” 

“I want it in this one. I don’t want my right fucked up,” He whined. 

“Fuckin’ hell. It’s going to hurt,” he said, holding onto his left wrist with his free hand. Kiyoomi nodded. He let Kiyoomi hold the needle as he tied the band around his arm and wiped away the blood that was trying to dry, “It’s going to leave a mark, Shion,” He said inspecting the previous attempted stabs. Kiyoomi shrugged, “I’ll do it lower, down here,” He pointed at the same vein lower on his forearm. 

“No! Just ignore the fails! Just do it there!” Kiyoomi was getting frustrated. Yuujirou didn’t have the energy to argue anymore nor did he care enough, so he shrugged with an eye roll. He took a puff of his cigarette before handing it to Kiyoomi so he could smoke it when he gave him the injection. 

Yuujirou poked at the vein a bit with his finger before he angled the needle and slid it in. Kiyoomi hissed and jerked his arm a bit causing the needle to move in consequence. Yuujirou closed his eyes trying to calm his annoyance, “Stop fucking moving. Smoke the damn dart and let me do this,” Kiyoomi looked away as Yuujirou adjusted the needle a bit in his arm before pulling back on the plunger. 

Globules of dark blood entered the syringe. He held still as he pushed firmly on the plunger sending all the liquid into Kiyoomi’s veins. “Oops,” He muttered half heartedly, pulling quickly on the tourniquet to undo it.  

When he removed the needle he pulled down the sleeve of Kiyoomi’s sweater and held the fabric to the injection spot as he didn’t have any tissue. He guided Kiyoomi to lay back against the couch cushions as he held firm pressure on his arm. He had taken the cigarette and took a couple drags ignoring the calm look on Kiyoomi’s face. It was exponentially better than his mood today but it was an uneasy feeling knowing it’s all caused by the drugs. 

“Forgot the tourniquet?” Kiyoomi whispered. 

“Should’ve gotten you to take it off before I injected it, I forgot. ’m sorry,” he murmured. Kiyoomi attempted a shrug but it looked more like a muscle spasm. He felt too good to move, just wanted to float in the feeling, “It’s probably gonna be a bad bruise,” He got no response. 

Yuujirou simply let Kiyoomi lay against his side as he watched the movie on the tv, his bloody arm seeping through the sleeve of his hoodie in his lap. Kiyoomi’s eyes were closed but he was still breathing so Yuujirou wasn’t worried. When he rolled up the sleeve there was bruising already starting to form. 

Kiyoomi slept on the couch as Yuujirou didn’t want to move him to the bed that night. When he woke up he felt an ache radiating from his forearm. He rolled up his sleeve and was met with clear track marks from the night before, the bruise was angry and prominent against his otherwise paler skin. He closed his eyes and sighed falling back on the couch.

The dread of just waking up crept up on him and he curled in on himself. He stared blankly at a spot on the wall, mind already running a mile a minute. He thought he would feel better today, that his mind would be back to normal. 

When Yuujirou walked out of the bedroom, boxers and no shirt Kiyoomi felt a rush of rejection. His boyfriend hated him. He left him on the couch to rot. The urge to stand up and start a screaming match crossed his mind, words and insults flew into his mind as to what he could say to hurt the most but he felt like he was covered in drying cement, unable to move. 

Nothing in this world was even worth the energy he had. It was as if the hole he felt in his chest was sucking the life and energy source out of everything making it all so dull. He felt his shoulders shake before he understood what was happening, before he felt the tears and sobs ripping through him. 

Yuujirou walked into the living room with a look of disbelief, “Seriously? This again?” 

Kiyoomi sat up and wiped his face, “I can’t do it- I need… I can’t, Yuuji,” He sobbed into his hands. 

“What the fuck is going on with you? We had a great bender and now you’re all,” He gestured vaguely. 

Kiyoomi felt a flash of anger ripple through him his body pumped with adrenaline, he stood up and started clenching and unclenching his fists, pacing around the room, “If I fucking knew what was wrong I would fix it! I can’t handle the noise, I can’t handle my skin, everything is too much but nothing is enough. I feel so empty and dull but my head is so full and won’t fucking shut up,” He gripped at his hair, elbows touching in front of his face. 

“Yo, I actually can’t deal with this. You’re fucking neurotic. I’m staying someplace else, man. Don’t get blood on anything else if you do some weird shit,” Yuujirou packed a bag, got dressed and left. He left Kiyoomi to his own devices. A house with guns, and lethal drugs… 

He made it until night before things became unbearable. Everything is worse at night, this is just a fact. His thoughts progressively got worse until he started taking action. The drugs made their way to the table. They were sorted out in lethal doses. The guns were brought out. They were examined and he learned how to use them. 

He put them in his hand and felt the weight in his hands. He imagined what the scene would look like, how his body would be discovered. He sharpened knives, found some rope… 

He laid them out on a table in order of their likelihood of success. He thought of the pros and cons of each method. He stared at them and cried. He imagined the reactions of everyone he loved. He picked up one of the guns, the barrel aimed at his face, wanting to feel what his last moments would be if he chose that route. He felt a tear slip down his cheek as he placed it back down. 

‘What the fuck is wrong with you’ A fleeing thought amongst many others said. He felt himself freeze. What was wrong with him? Why was he like this? What was happening? Something is wrong. 

His tears stopped momentarily. He stood up and shakily grabbed his phone from the kitchen table. He dialled first responders. 

“Hi, what’s your emergency?” 

“I think I might kill myself, I- need to get out of the house. Please…” his voice was raw and shaky. The woman on the other end of the call sounded sweet. “I- I can’t do this. They always ask if I have the means and a plan and I always said no- but I… I do now… I have it all. Well… I don’t know which method I wanna do but I have all the options ready and- I don’t- I can’t-” 

She was able to calm him down to the point she could ask for his address, name, age, if he’s taken anything already, or hurt himself in any way... 

“Where are you right now, Kiyoomi?” She asked softly. 

Kiyoomi couldn’t help but allow himself to sob. It’s the first time someone has spoken so calmly to him when he’s been acting like this, “My boyfriend’s house,” he sniffed, “In the kitchen,”

“Okay. Is there somewhere you can go and sit down, somewhere safe?” Kiyoomi walked into the washroom and locked the door before sliding down against it and banging his head against it, “What was that noise?” 

“Hit my head,” He said simply.

“Are you okay? Feeling dizzy?” She questioned. 

“No. I'm fine. I’m sitting on the floor and just leaned my head back against the door. That’s all,” he explained. 

“Okay. You’re going to stay awake for me until help gets to you, right?” she asked softly. 

“Yeah. Can I confess something?” 

“Sure, honey,” 

“I did heroin last night. Well, I do drugs often. My boyfriend was being such an asshole and I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I think– well. I know I have bipolar, but I don’t know why I’m acting like this. It’s not like my usual depression or hypomania. 

“I feel so weird. I wanna die but I have energy and my head is racing like I’m manic but my thoughts are fucked up like I’m depressed. I feel so empty but I feel so restless. My boyfriend doesn’t know I have bipolar. I think he’s tired of me. 

“I wasn’t able to shoot up last night because I was too tipsy and I begged him to do it for me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m fucked up. He doesn’t even know my real name! I’ve been going by ‘Shion’ since I met him. He’s a dealer and no one knows he’s gay! He’d get killed if people found out. 

“You know, I was basically the drug gays fuck toy. All of the closeted gay guys in the drug scene would come to me to fuck since I was the only one out. I don’t even remember half the hook ups because I couldn’t stand being sober. I’m scared of turning them down because if I do, what if they kill me? 

“I play volleyball and I’m damn good. But... I’m fucking it all up by just- being a major fuck up. I’m-” He felt a lump in his throat, “I don’t know what to do. I have to keep my grades up to stay on the university team. I need the team I want to get on to accept me once I’m done with school… But at this rate I’ll be dead… I can’t die. I need to play volleyball… I’ve worked so fucking hard just so I could do this. 

“You know, I’m going to be famous. I’ll be in the Olympics someday. You’ll see me on the screen one day. You’ll be able to say ‘that’s the motherfucker I had to listen talk about how shitty his privileged life is’. So, I can’t die now. Even though I really want to go out there and blow my fucking brains out... It would look absolutely pathetic in the papers,” His rant was full of stumbles and stammers, his sentences rushed and messy.

“Alright Kiyoomi. I’m glad you felt safe sharing your story with me. I do wish you the best. I’m sure you’ll do amazing out there. You did a great job at being patient. The paramedics and police officers are currently outside your door. I asked them to wait outside. If you can go outside and cooperate they won’t have to force enter. Can you do that for me?” 

Kiyoomi breathed in deeply, “Yeah. Are they going to sedate me?” 

“You have to be honest with them regarding everything you took. Recreational drugs and prescription. They won’t do anything without informing you first if you cooperate. Understand? Do you want to stay on the phone until you get to the front door?” 

“Yeah,” Kiyoomi managed to squeak out.

“Okay. You said you’re on the floor? Can you stand up?” Kiyoomi did as she instructed, “I want you to go to the door with nothing but the phone you have in your hand right now. That means no weapons, no drugs, nothing that will be confiscated. Can you do that for me?” 

He complied, emptying his pockets and updated her every step of the way until he reached the door, “I’m at the front door,” 

“Okay, honey, do you want to open it up for me and we can say goodbye?” 

“Okay,” Kiyoomi whispered. He reached for the door handle and turned the handle. He opened the door and was faced with two armed officers. He gasped and nearly dropped the phone. 

“Kiyoomi?” He heard the voice on the other line speak. The officers eased up once they noticed Kiyoomi was unarmed. The officers paged someone saying something Kiyoomi couldn’t register, “Alright Kiyoomi, I’m going to hang up now, take care now, okay?” 

“Okay. Goodbye,” Kiyoomi said in a half trance and he tried to calm his racing heart. The initial shock of seeing police officers at his doorstep was fading off and he stepped outside slowly allowing the officers to lead him to their cars.  

“Do you think she looked me up after?” 

Atsumu thought for a moment, “If it were me, I definitely would have. That could be just because I’m nosy though,” 

Kiyoomi shrugged and nodded, “They locked me in the loony bin for three days before I was discharged into Motoya’s heartbroken arms and left stripped of any dignity. Stole some ativan though,”

“Dude,” Atsumu said in disbelief.

“They stole my hoodie strings!” he tried lightening the mood, “I’ve been two other times since then. Second time because my most recent ex was being an asshole and told them I was a danger to myself. I was fine though, he found out about my bipolar and thought it was great payback for when I tried biting his dick off," 

Atsumu sputtered.

"I didn't!” he clarified, “His dick is fine. I was just crying," Kiyoomi laughed thinking back on the moment, "he tried to shove it in when I was crying. I don't know what he expected," Atsumu frowned, not understanding why Kiyoomi was talking about it so casually.

Kiyoomi saw the serious expression Atsumu supported and his smile faded. He noticed that maybe he shouldn't be laughing. He's been told before by psychologists that he expresses emotions that don't match the words he says, that it comes off wrong to who he's speaking to. In retrospect if anyone else told him this story he would also be concerned, it sounded like a traumatizing scenario. But he wasn't traumatized. He was fine. He was coping fine. He could laugh about it, right?

"Anyway, the third time was for some psychotic depression symptoms,” He said as he finished the last of his food.

“Psychotic depression?” Atsumu questioned.

Kiyoomi hummed, “Sometimes depression can cause psychosis. In my case I think it may have been triggered by drugs. There’s no way to tell though, I didn’t explicitly tell the doctors about my drug use. They knew from my file from the first time I was there that I’m a drug user. I know the drugs I was using a few days before the break don’t usually cause psychosis so maybe it wasn’t but,” He shrugged, “I haven’t experienced psychosis since then so I think it was a one off thing,” he thought for a second, “or maybe my medication helps?” He squinted his eyes in thought.

“Psychosis sounds scary,” Atsumu said simply. 

Kiyoomi chuckled, “I mean, yeah sometimes,” 

“So… Those scars I saw earlier…” Atsumu started hesitantly. Kiyoomi usually wore long sleeves when he wasn’t playing volleyball, so his scars were currently covered. 

He sighed, “Yeah, one of them was from that first mixed episode,” Atsumu’s eyes flickered down to the covered arm as if his vision would see through the fabric, “Are you asking to see them?” Atsumu met his eyes once again and shrugged bashfully. 

“Not if you’re uncomfortable,” 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable explicitly showing them to people. The fact that I see them everyday is frustrating,” If Kiyoomi was honest, sometimes looking at the scars made him sick to his stomach. The reminder of him piercing his veins with needles he sometimes didn’t know where they came from made him want to go back in time and never allow himself to get over his fear of needles.

Other times, looking at his scars was triggering. It was triggering in the sense that it reminded him how good it once felt. How fast the high reached his head, the intense euphoria overwhelming his senses as he retracted the needle. It made him crave it. He craved the routine of cooking the drugs, sucking it into the needle, getting the air bubbles out. It was almost therapeutic in the most fucked up way. His mind associated the rubber around his arm to an orgasmic high so when there was a squeeze on his bicep he felt a rush of adrenaline through his chest, anticipation. 

He hated how drug infested his mind was. A familiar face, a scar, a squeeze, it all came back to the best and worst thing to ever happen in his life. 

“You don’t have to show me. Seriously, sorry I ask-”

“Now that you know about them, you’re going to keep trying to get a glimpse of them whenever you can. So, just, get it out of your system,” 

They were sitting on the couch, Kiyoomi on the middle seat, Atsumu perpendicular to him with his feet slung over his lap, lying back against the arm rest. He sat up when he saw Kiyoomi rolling up his sleeve. 

Kiyoomi exhaled with his eyes closed and moved his arm into Atsumu’s lap. The blonde gently cradled the forearm as he took a closer look at the old track marks. He forced himself to keep his face neutral, not wanting Kiyoomi to think he was judging him or thinking his scars were gross. 

He looked at the biggest scar, it was white, round and slightly indented. Without thinking he ran his thumb over it. Kiyoomi’s arm twitched as if he wanted to pull away but he didn’t, “Sorry,” he mumbled, “I don’t understand how a needle can do that,” 

“It wasn’t really the needle that caused the whole scar. That one is the scar that happened during the episode. I tried so many times with the dull, bent needle… I honestly couldn’t tell you if it was new or not thinking back… but it doesn’t matter. It got infected, causing an abscess to form,” Atsumu winced. 

“That sounds painful…” Kiyoomi nodded lightly. He had to fake an injury to get out of volleyball until it had healed enough for him to play. He felt pathetic. Atsumu continued to rub his thumb over a random spot on Kiyoomi’s arm as he looked at the other smaller scars on his arm. “These blue spots…” Atsumu grazed his thumb over them gently. 

“Hyperpigmentation. They don’t hurt or anything,” Kiyoomi poked one of the two.

“I always thought they were little bruises you had,” 

“Permanent bruises?” Kiyoomi raised his eyebrows with a small smile. 

“I dunno, I never thought too hard about it. It’s still, like, injection related though?” 

“Yeah. Surprisingly, I wasn’t that safe when it came to my injecting until near the end when I started learning more about safe practices. So I have a couple reminders that I’m an idiot,”

Atsumu tsked, “Don’t say that. You didn’t have proper resources. You weren’t an idiot. I wouldn’t know the first thing to do if I were to get heroin. I know people use spoons and tourniquets but… Before I learnt ‘bout harm reduction kits ‘n stuff I didn’t know ya mix the heroin with stuff. I thought ya’d, like, melt it and then it goes right in!” 

“Oh god,” Kiyoomi chuckled. 

Atsumu shrugged and looked back at the arm he was still holding, rolled down his sleeve for him and intertwined their hands as he sat back against the arm rest, “How did you do so well in school? It sounds like you were…”

“Partying and shooting up all the time?” He finished with a smirk, “I also slept with all the teachers,” The look on Atsumu's face was worth the joke, “I’m kidding. I don’t know who told you I did well in school because I didn’t. I only passed enough to stay on the team. It was hard though, being an addict in school. I had some school friends who helped me out with note taking when I wasn’t fully present in class… I had pretty good time management.

“You know how in the show she was able to miss a bunch of things but make up for it with her mania by basically hyperfocusing on it? I was kind of like that. I never missed anything in bulk. Whenever I was slipping I would make up for it with being super productive and exceeding expectations while hypomanic or I would take adderall or speed to stay up and get stuff done.

“It wasn’t that efficient with volleyball because, as you know, you can’t just train a bunch in one day and level up,” Atsumu nodded along, “Volleyball was the one thing that kept me sane. I think that if I didn’t have volleyball my depressive episodes would be… impossible to get through,” Kiyoomi nodded thoughtfully.

“God… I wish I could’ve been there for you,”

“Nooo,” Sakusa stretched out, “No you don’t. You wouldn’t have stayed. You haven’t seen me at my worst,” he said sadly, “my worst now might make you want to leave and even so, it’s not nearly as bad as how it was back then– when I was unmedicated and took a cocktail of drugs,”

“Kiyoomi. You have no faith in me,” He said, squeezing his hand. 

“… I guess it’s hard to think anyone could handle it. My exes were dicks,”

“Should we go beat ‘em up?” Atsumu suggested jokingly.

“Probably a little difficult to get past prison guards but we can try,”

Atsumu felt his jaw drop, “Prison?”

“One of them,” Kiyoomi laughed at his reaction.

“Fuck,”

“Give me a few minutes and let’s go walk through the park?” Kiyoomi asked with a small smile.

It was still an adjustment for Atsumu to see Kiyoomi smile so much. If it was anytime before he had started going on dates with the man or seeing him during the windows of his hypomania he would think hell froze over. It still made his stomach fill with warmth anytime it happened.

He wanted to give Kiyoomi the few minutes he asked but his stomach dropped once seeing him go to the washroom then retreat to his bedroom without using the washroom at all.

Was Kiyoomi about to do drugs? Right now? Before they went to the park? Really? Was his presence not enough for him to be sober? He paced around the living room for a couple seconds before deciding to walk over to the door.

“Omi?” He knocked on the door.

“Yes?” He responded from the other side of the closed door.

“Can I come in?” He tried hiding the nervous shake in his voice but he doesn’t think he was that successful.

Kiyoomi opened the door slightly with a look of concern, “I’ll be out in a second. Why are you upset?” Atsumu was trying to take a peak over his shoulder into the room to see exactly what Kiyoomi was doing but he was unable to since his frame was blocking the view.

“Are ya…?” He trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence. Not really wanting to know if it was true.

He understood what he was asking though. Kiyoomi looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully before opening the door allowing Atsumu in. Inside Atsumu saw the rolling tray on the bed with a crushed up pill in fine powder next to a blade, and short paper straw.

“I don’t know what you want me to do now,” Kiyoomi said, sitting down next to the rolling tray before moving it to the side table.

“I don’t understand why ya can’t just come to the park with me sober?” Atsumu said with a tremor in his voice.

Kiyoomi sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, “You’re taking it too personally,”

“How can’t I?”

“God, sober people never fucking understand,” He muttered under his breath. Atsumu heard it anyway, which stung, “You people always assume we can’t deal with you when we’re sober when that’s so far from the truth. I can’t deal with myself sober, okay? I just feel like everything comes easier when I'm high. I just like who I am more… I feel like you’d like who I am more too,”

“No, Kiyoomi, that’s stupid, what?” The moment the word left Atsumu’s mouth he knew he messed up. The look on Kiyoomi’s face was a little scary, it was as if every emotion he had ever felt had fled, leaving the shell of a man who once used to be.

“Right. Sorry for being stupid then. Never mind the park, never mind anything I fucking shared with you tonight. You can leave,”

“Wait, no,” Atsumu scrambled, wishing he could take back the last few minutes. He scoured his mind trying to find something to say, something to save everything they built. 

“Out, Miya. Get out.” Kiyoomi stood up and walked to the door urging him to follow.

“Please just-” Atsumu could see the taller man roll his eyes impatiently and look over to the rolling tray waiting for him on the bedside table.

Oh, no, Atsumu couldn’t leave him alone knowing he was about to snort a line of, whatever that was, “Let me stay, please,”

Atsumu’s eyes flicked to the tray and back to Kiyoomi who scoffed, “What? You think i’m gonna kill myself or something over you? Take a little too much, as if I don't do this shit every night?”

“Omi, ya know it could happen to anyone… Doesn’t matter if yo-”

“Why are you lecturing me right now? God, just leave me alone,” He was starting to get impatient now.

“I can’t, in good conscious, leave you alone right now,”

“Right, cause it’s all about you. Mr. Perfect setter. Mr. never touched a drug in his goddamn life. I don’t need your entitled ass near me right now. I’m not responsible for your feelings getting hurt,” Kiyoomi said, his finger lightly jabbing Atsumu’s chest, his anger starting to reach a boil. Atsumu had to fight against his instincts to defend his honour.

He knew this was being said in the heat of the moment. Kiyoomi was hurting. He was feeling an influx of emotions he obviously didn’t know how to deal with so he responded with aggression and defence, a classic tactic.

“I know I messed up, said things that came out wrong. You can be mad at me. But I need ta know you’re safe if you’re gonna do that line,” He gestured to the tray, “Just, tell me what it is, and let me sit on the couch or whatever. You can do your thing. I won't bother ya,”

Kiyoomi took a few steps back and laughed in disbelief, “Can you not read the fucking room? I don’t want you near me. Not in the room. Not in the house. Not in the fucking country would be preferred but we don’t always get what we want, huh? Just like you can’t get a perfect little boyfriend who isn’t a mentally ill fucked up junkie,” 

Atsumu noticed a tear fall straight from Kiyoomi’s eye to the ground. They were tears of frustration and anger. He knew them himself, but never had he witnessed someone else’s angry tears. 

“Omi, that’s not fair,” He took a step closer to Kiyoomi with his hands out in front in an attempt to reach for him. He wanted to touch him, to just hold him. It clearly didn’t translate well as the taller man jerked back, taking steps away from him again. 

“Nothing is fucking fair, Miya. I didn’t ask for this. You, on the other hand, have a choice to deal with this. So do yourself a favour and leave, you clearly want to,”

“How does it look like I want to leave? I’m literally begging to stay here?” Atsumu couldn’t help but fight back.

“You just want to stay to ease your conscience in case I kill myself. Your saviour complex is so fucking big I don’t know how I didn’t see it earlier. You were probably walking me to the ledge so you could guide me off and take credit,” 

“Sakusa. What the fuck?” Atsumu couldn’t help the breath being knocked out of him. He wasn’t expecting to ever have something like that said to him. 

“Fuck! Miya! Get out!” Kiyoomi yelled. Atsumu had never heard him yell like this. He was thrown off balance and couldn’t help but stare at Kiyoomi in shock. He noticed the tears still rimming his eyes, his face red and contorted to express his distress and anger, “Leave before I get building security to escort you out for trespassing,” He said firmly.

Atsumu bit his lip and clenched his fist. He walked hesitantly out of the bedroom but that was enough for Kiyoomi to slam the door behind him. “Fuck,” Atsumu whispered.

He raised his fist wanting to punch something, the wall, anything. He ended up just knocking his palms against his forehead before heading towards the front door.

As he opened the front door he spotted Kiyoomi’s keys on the hook, before he could think twice he grabbed them and walked out. 

Chapter Text

Atsumu’s reasoning for grabbing Kiyoomi’s keys was simple. He figured Kiyoomi would lock the door after he was gone. He didn’t have a key to the man’s apartment and there was no chance that Atsumu was going to sit around and do nothing all night. 

He had to make sure the man wasn’t dead on his floor from an overdose. Despite the hole he felt in his chest, courtesy of the bullet shot from Kiyoomi’s words, he still needed to make sure he was okay. 

Maybe he did have a saviour complex? Was it so bad to want to help your boyfriend though? It wasn’t as if he started dating Kiyoomi for the sole reason to save him. He just cared about Kiyoomi. He wanted to see the man happy. Was that so bad? 

The fact that Kiyoomi insinuated he wanted to make him worse before ‘saving him’ made him sick to his stomach. Is that how Kiyoomi truly saw this? Was he actually making things worse and he didn’t know it? He was trying so hard to be what he thought he needed.

Regardless, there was only one thing for him to do until it was time to trespass with the kit of naloxone Akaashi gave him and emergency services on speed dial. He would go back to his room and call Akaashi so he could anxiously rant to him. 

If he went back in time and told his past self he would be turning to Akaashi of all people to share his anxieties and current issues he couldn’t imagine a more confused face. 

In the past he would’ve always gone to Osamu to rant about his issues. It’s kind of unnerving how quiet it’s been between Osamu and him. They’ve sent a few messages back and forth about mindless things since Atsumu messaged him about the hook up, but nothing more. 

He thought about Osamu nearly everyday in passing but there was nothing in him that was pushing him to call him and update him on everything like they used to. He was worried that he maybe didn’t care about what he had to say anymore. He wasn’t forthcoming the last time they spoke seriously so why should Osamu even bother? 

He wondered how Osamu felt about not talking… Did he enjoy the quiet that Atsumu was giving him for once in his life? It wasn’t like he attempted to reach out either… He felt himself starting to spiral about anything and everything.

He pulled out his phone and dialled up Akaashi. The phone rang, and rang… With no answer.

The connection in the building is fine, the phone call went through… Why wasn’t he picking up? 

He looked at his phone, the ‘call failed’ screen taunting him. He felt his heart pick up in speed. His mind flashed back to the line of powder on the tray, the anger and impulsivity that seemed to seep through Kiyoomi moments before he was kicked out. 

The possibilities of what Kiyoomi may have decided to do after he left flashed through his head. 

Did he crush up some more for a higher dose? Mix other drugs alongside whatever it was he already had out? Did he own needles? Would Kiyoomi go back to injecting?   

Atsumu felt his chest tightening, breathing started to feel like a chore, lungs struggling to take in what they needed. His vision became blurry. 

He half sat on the edge on his bed leaning his elbows on his thighs. He had one hand clenching his shirt in front of his chest as if it would relieve the pressure he felt. With a tremor in his hands he unlocked his phone, everything was too blurry. He just wanted this to stop. 

He called Akaashi again, nothing. Again, voicemail. 

He threw his phone at the wall out of frustration and slid down the side of his bed. His breaths were shallow and shaky. One more call, he allowed himself. 

He scooted over to his phone and activated voice command. Navigating his phone was too much, “Call Bokuto,” He was able to get out. 

In the middle of the last ring just as he thought no one was answering him, he heard shuffling and an out of breath, “‘tsum-tsum! What’s up!” 

“Where’s Akaashi?” It was a sad attempt at stability, Bokuto immediately knew something was wrong. Despite what anyone says Atsumu knew Bokuto was way more emotionally intelligent than he led on at times. 

“He’s with me. Are you okay? Do you need something, man?” Before Atsumu could even attempt an answer Akaashi must’ve said something as he heard another indistinct voice in the background, “Akaashi just saw your calls, are you home? We’ll come over, okay?” 

“Okay,” He managed before hanging up and bringing his knees into his chest. He tried controlling his breathing before they came, he didn’t want to look too pitiful before they saw him. His chest was a bit looser, he could take more meaningful breaths. 

Not even two minutes went by before there was a knock on the door. It was solely a warning before Akaashi and Bokuto walked into his apartment. 

They walked carefully into Atsumu’s room when they saw him on the floor through the door. 

“Hey,” Bokuto said, as soft as Bokuto could possibly be, “sorry we didn’t see your calls earlier man!” His voice was verging on a bit too loud for Atsumu which caused him to flinch. Akaashi seemed to notice as he walked over and put a soft hand on Bokuto’s forearm, a gesture requesting a minute of quiet. 

Akaashi sat down on the floor next to Atsumu. He took a couple soft inhales and exhales, “How’s our breathing, Atsumu?” 

“Better,” He mumbled into his arms. 

Akaashi requested they take a couple together. Atsumu refrained from rolling his eyes from how much he felt like a child throwing a temper tantrum but followed along.

“How are you feeling?” 

“Dandy,” Atsumu’s voice wavered as he tried to mask it with sarcasm. It didn’t go unnoticed by Akaashi. 

“Shaky? Can you stand?” Akaashi asked, ignoring his comment. 

 “Blurry, cold…” Atsumu finally said honestly. 

“Okay, do you want to get into bed?” Atsumu nodded. Bokuto held out his hands to help pull him up, Atsumu hesitated but once feeling how weak his legs felt he used both hands as leverage to stand. He muttered a thank you and crawled into his bed. 

He curled onto his side before his foot seemed to hit something, a set of keys. The jingle set a wave of anxiety through him, “Oh, no no no,”  He started as he sat back up. Bokuto and Akaashi looked at each other in alarm. 

“Hey hey,” Bokuto whispered, “You’re alright, ‘tsum,” 

“No, no, you don’t- He’s not…” Atsumu looked at Akaashi with wide eyes, fear evident to anyone in a 5 mile radius. 

“Kou, give us a minute, okay? Close the door,” Atsumu was thankful that Akaashi was good at reading cues, “Is this about Sakusa?” He asked calmly. 

He nodded quickly in confirmation, “Okay. Let’s walk through this, yeah? Can you try to untense your shoulders a bit?” Atsumu tried to do as directed, closing his eyes as he recounted the events prior. 

“We were gonna go to the park. I thought he was gonna do drugs so I went ta check ‘n I was right. He couldn’t be with me sober. He needed ta get high to go out with me. So I got insecure. He got mad. Said I don’t understand. 

“I told him he can do whatever he needs to do, just don’t kick me out. Just so I knew he was safe. He said I have a… Saviour complex and how he thinks I probably made him worse so I could fix ‘im... He threatened to call security on me… I took his keys on the way out. I need ta check on him. I need ta know he’s okay.” 

Akaashi processed everything before nodding slowly, “Okay. Do you feel a bit better talking about it?” 

“That’s not the problem!” He snapped.

Akaashi closed his eyes for a second, “I hear what you’re trying to tell me, Atsumu. I understand that you’re worried about him, but you can’t do anything for him if you, yourself, aren’t in check. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?” 

Atsumu exhaled loudly but nodded, “Alright. Being on edge can lead to dangerous reactions and impulsive decisions that we might not want to make. 

“With that being said, I need you to focus on your breathing and just ground yourself until you feel a bit more relaxed even though I know it feels difficult,” 

Before Akaashi could count Atsumu in for breathing exercises he broke down in tears, “No, please, Akaashi, I don’t wanna do this,” He used both of his hands to wipe his tears away as they started coming down fast. 

“Atsumu…” Akaashi’s heart broke for the man. He looked torn apart. 

He was resistant to doing any coping strategies which Akaashi understood well. The blonde was beyond worried about Sakusa who was down the hall, high on whatever substances, but he knew his main focus was Atsumu. He was called here, not Sakusa's. 

“What can I do for you?” He asked softly.

Atsumu looked down at the sheets covering his bed and fiddled with the hemming, “I need t’know he’s okay,” 

“You know I can’t do that without worrying other people,”

“Maybe they should be,” 

“Atsumu… It’s not… That’s not how they should find out,” He sighed.

“I wish I never found out. God, why did I have to be so nosy?” he said in frustration. 

“Do you have his cousin's number maybe?” Akaashi thought out loud.

Atsumu felt like a bucket of cold water was poured over him, Motoya, of course, he has to know something, right? 

“Fuck,” He scrambled pulling his phone out with two new cracks in his screen from his outburst. He pulled up Suna’s contact and sent him a message 

[Atsumu]: What’s Motoya’s #

Two minutes of biting his nails anxiously, he got a reply.

[Suna]: 10 

[Atsumu]: Phone number dickhead 

[Suna]: Go fuck yourself :) 

[Suna]: ***-***-****

Atsumu opened a new chat

[Atsumu]: Motoya, It’s Miya Atsumu. I need to talk to you asap

[Atsumu]: Call me if you can. 

Within five minutes his phone rang with the number he had yet added to his contacts. 

“Hi, Motoya?” 

“Yeah… Hey Atsumu? What a pleasant surprise?” He chuckled, “Suna texted me that an idiot asked for my number so he gave it to them, I assume he meant you,” he laughed. 

Atsumu wished he could laugh but he couldn’t even muster up a friendly courtesy chuckle, “I actually need ta talk to ya about Sakusa,”

“Oh, what about him?” 

“I’m worried?” Atsumu heard a sharp inhale on the other end of the phone. 

Motoya has to know about it all, right? I mean, they went to the same highschool, when Kiyoomi found out about his bipolar. That’s also when he started using drugs, so Motoya has seen Kiyoomi go through things that Atsumu probably couldn’t imagine. 

He knew him and Kiyoomi still facetime often and he was definitely present during his college years, despite how rocky it got between them at times. 

“Worried about what?” Motoya asked cautiously.

“Have you talked to him in the past hour?” Atsumu decided to ask instead. He didn’t want to risk outing Kiyoomi’s drug use to his cousin if he didn’t already know. He didn’t want to break the fragile trust they had at the moment. 

“No, we haven't spoken in a couple days. Has something happened? Atsumu, if you know something you’ve got to tell me…” Motoya sounded anxious. As if he was about to hop on the next train to their apartment complex. 

“He’s recently opened up to me about a lot of things, so I know… stuff-”

“Atsumu, I swear to god. If you’re trying to protect him by not saying something just stop. I know everything about him, I was there through everything, high school, college, all the shit went down. I was the person who was there for him. 

“Now, tell me what the fuck is going on before I have an aneurysm,” Atsumu was startled at the tone. 

He spoke to Komori several times in the past but it had always been light and cheery when they engaged. 

“I just need to know he’s okay and he probably won’t answer my calls at the moment,” 

A frustrated exhale was heard on the other side of the line, “Atsumu. You have got to give me more than that,” 

“We got in an argument, and he wanted to get high, alright? He already had some stuff today that shouldn’t even be in his system at the same time. Just try to contact him. I have a key to his place if ya can’t reach him. I just don’t want to betray his trust. Please Motoya,”

Motoya found his explanation good enough, telling him they were going to talk after this is all over. And that he would text him after he tries to reach Kiyoomi. It took 15 minutes of Atsumu pacing back and forth in his room while Akaashi tried calming him down before his phone went off with a text. 

[Motoya]: Facetiming with him right now. He’s really high. Looks like he might start nodding off but I'm trying to keep him awake for the meantime. 

[Motoya]: If there’s a pharmacy near you, ask if they have any narcan / naloxone kits. They should give them out for free. Go now. They might want to train you. 

Atsumu gave Akaashi the phone with shaky hands. He was scared.

Akaashi wrote back a response.

[Atsumu]: We have Naloxone Kits. Let us know when / if we need to intervene. If you know what he took and the timeline it would be helpful for the paramedics. - Akaashi Keiji. 

[Motoya]: Idk amounts but he took oxy orally this morn before practice, xanax after practice, some more oxy like an hour ago with another opioid he wouldn’t tell me which I assume is H. He wouldn’t confirm though.  

[Atsumu]: Thank you. Keep us updated. A.K

Akaashi and Atsumu decided to leave the bedroom and were greeted by Bokuto who had made a huge pot of the packaged ramen he had in his cupboards. 

“Oh! I didn’t really know what to do so I made some ramen,” 

“We see that Bokuto,” Akaashi muttered. 

They all sat around the table with a bowl of the soup and ate. Atsumu tried his best at focusing on the noodles but all he could think about was the man a few doors down. 

It was silent as they ate, no one really knew what to say, and Atsumu hated it. He felt as if he had ruined both their nights and now are forcing them to eat with him in tense awkward silence. 

Not even Bokuto had anything to say to lighten the air. 

He couldn’t help but feel as if his presence just made everyone around him miserable. Sure, that thought might be extreme when looking at it from the outside perspective but when you look deeper… 

Kiyoomi was holding up fine before Atsumu came into the picture. Sure, he still had bipolar and substance use disorder before he and Atsumu got together, but ever since they started dating he felt as if he made everything worse. 

Kiyoomi was able to partake in his substances without him getting all up in his business and making him feel as if he needed to defend himself for why he does what he does to survive. 

Atsumu never wanted to make Kiyoomi feel like shit about his substance use. He did so much research on how to help someone with an addiction but not give unsolicited advice or pressure them into sobriety, no matter how badly he might want Kiyoomi to be sober. 

He watched hours of videos on harm reduction, the history, techniques and interventions… He looked up anything he could think of but he still felt like he failed before he could even try. Despite all the efforts he put into trying to be the best for his boyfriend he just made a mess. 

He got up in the face of someone dealing with other issues and started creating more issues for them to deal with and lash out on. He only wanted Kiyoomi to be safe, in his heart he knew that. His intentions were pure and were out of concern, but there were always more and different ways he could have handled it in hindsight.

He knew that there were a couple different outcomes when this ended. One, he and Kiyoomi have a real discussion about his drug use and how to handle everything when conflict arises. Two, they break up and Kiyoomi shuts him out of his personal life forever. Three, they seek out third party help. 

Atsumu must’ve zoned out at some point because Bokuto was increasingly saying his name louder to get his attention. 

He focused his eyes on the worried faces of the two in front of him and made a disgruntled noise, “Your phone is ringing Atsumu,” Akaashi said. There was an urgency in his words. 

Atsumu’s head snapped to the phone lying down on the table beside him showing Motoya’s number. Atsumu stood up with the phone and brought it to the bathroom where he kept the kit of naloxone as he answered the call and rushed out a quick hello. 

“Go check on him. Bring Naloxone. He was nodding out a bit but now he’s not responding to me,” Motoya said urgently. 

Atsumu ploughed through his cabinet to get the naloxone kit before running out of the bathroom to the bedroom and grabbing the keys that were left haphazardly on the bed. 

He then went to the kitchen where he saw Akaashi alone. 

“I sent Bokuto back to his apartment. I don’t think he should know just yet,” Atsumu waved it off as something not relevant for what was happening and told him that they had to go to Kiyoomi’s place, “Did he overdose?”

Something inside Atsumu snapped, “I don’t know Akaashi! We just need to go! I don’t even know what nodding out means! I have the kits,” He scrubbed his face with his free hand and opened the front door running down the hall to Kiyoomi’s front door, not bothering to put on his shoes. 

Akaashi followed along, shoeless as well. 

Atsumu tried the door handle and was unsurprised by the door being locked. He pulled out the keys from his pocket and quickly unlocked the door. When they opened the door they half assumed to have a bit more time to prepare before seeing Kiyoomi. 

On the couch was his seemingly lifeless body, sat back on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, head hanging downwards to the left. His phone was propped up on some books on the centre of the table in front of him as if he were still facetiming Motoya. 

Atsumu felt his body go cold at the sight. His hand went to cover his face but Akaashi took his hand and pulled him further into the apartment, “Atsumu, focus. I know it’s hard. We can’t help if we don’t do anything. Fill the syringe to 0.4mg I'll check if he’s responsive.” 

Atsumu took a couple shaky breaths. He heard Akaashi’s voice soothingly speak again, “Breathe for me, and just do as the instructions say. You’ll be okay. I’m calling paramedics.” 

Atsumu got to work quickly on filling the syringe. He felt sick to his stomach looking at the needle he knew would soon be put into the arm or leg of his boyfriend just to make sure he didn’t die. 

His hands felt weak as he pulled on the plunger of the syringe, the liquid filled the barrel but Atsumu’s eyes were too blurry to make out the numbers and lines. He just filled it until he believed it to be past the number Keiji said. It would be fine, the majority of the liquid in the vial was in the needle now, no doubt would it save him. 

Like Keiji said, it wouldn't hurt injecting someone who hasn’t taken opioids, so taking too much wouldn’t hurt, right? Atsumu forgot everything Akaashi had taught them with the naloxone, his mind was muddled, he couldn’t think straight. 

Once the syringe was filled with the naloxone he turned to Akaashi who had been talking to paramedics on speaker while trying to determine the state of his breathing. 

Atsumu slowly moved closer to them and saw Akaashi was rubbing his knuckles over his sternum in order to elicit a coherent response or reaction along with saying his name. 

When Akaashi saw him come closer he spoke calmly to the paramedic on the phone that he was about to administer a dose of naloxone. She said okay and helped guide him through the process even though Akaashi didn’t really need much help. Atsumu watched in fear as Akaashi gave the needle into his upper arm. 

In his mind he expected Kiyoomi to sit up right away as if he'd been shocked and gasp for air like in the movies or shows. But he soon realized that this was real life as Akaashi had the man on his side in a recovery position, monitoring his heart rate and breathing. 

It scared the living hell out of him. 

Within minutes of the shot being administered his breathing was less shallow. 

Akaashi, despite his face trying to show little to no reaction as to not scare Atsumu, was relieved. He was checking his pulse constantly, making sure he could still feel it and that it wouldn’t fade or stop. 

He updated the operator on the phone about everything and she also seemed relieved to hear about the fact his breathing was more pronounced. Despite the fact Kiyoomi would be in better hands now since the paramedics were close, Atsumu still felt the same dread and fear from the beginning. 

Currently, it all felt like Atsumu was navigating a dream. Nothing felt real, his surroundings felt detached from reality as he watched his boyfriend regain consciousness.

As the paramedics pushed through the front door Atsumu felt himself snap back to the scene unfolding. Akaashi had Kiyoomi lying on his side, his hands rubbing up and down his flank soothingly as his boyfriend whimpered.

Kiyoomi had tremors ripping through his body as if he were shaking from the cold. He curled into himself at some point, his knees tucked into the feotal position as Akaashi held one of his hands. He had sweat covering every inch of his skin. He looked so vulnerable and scared. 

Atsumu watched the paramedics talk to Akaashi, getting Kiyoomi’s information, he watched as they lifted him onto the gurney and strapped him down. 

Quiet tears fell from the corner of Kiyoomi’s eyes as they wheeled him, his barely open eyes searching around the room for something. Atsumu wanted to reach out to him, tell him he was here, let him know that he still cared and that he was sorry but he couldn't move. He just watched. It was so hard to watch.

Akaashi and Atsumu were left alone in Kiyoomi’s apartment as the door shut behind the paramedics. They sat down on the couch in silence, trying to process everything that had just transpired. 

An unknown amount of time passed before Akaashi got up and started cleaning everything up. Atsumu's gaze followed him lazily, he felt so emotionally numb. 

“We should call Motoya and go to the hospital,” Akaashi whispered eventually, sticking out his hand to help Atsumu up. 

Atsumu looked down at where he was sitting and he realised it was the same place Kiyoomi was seated when they had found him. He inhaled sharply, taking Akaashi’s hand.

He stood up and pocketed Kiyoomi’s phone which was left on the counter. They went back to Atsumu’s to get ready to go to the hospital. The image of Kiyoomi on the couch and then on the floor kept popping up in his mind, he felt sick.

Chapter Text

The last time Atsumu entered a hospital was when he got a cast off. He was 12 and was buzzing to sprint down the halls to find the room he would inevitably walk out of with a free wrist. It was fair to say basically 12 years later the energy walking into the hospital this time was all but running up and down the halls. 

Akaashi spoke to Motoya on speaker phone while they drove to the hospital. They discussed everything that happened and left out no details as per Motoya’s demand. It was difficult for Atsumu to listen to the story be retold. 

During their time spent in Kiyoomi’s apartment Atsumu felt as if he was barely there, his memory of everything was kind of foggy. Having almost everything flood back into his mind upon hearing about it wasn’t pleasant. 

Motoya was grateful for the both of them and told them to take care of Kiyoomi even if he tries to fight against the care. He wouldn’t be able to make it out to visit in the coming week, which he was verbally very upset about, but Atsumu couldn’t blame him. He was hoping to find some time as soon as he could to visit though.

When they arrived at the hospital they were directed to the waiting room to which they sat for over forty five minutes before any doctor or nurse came to talk to them. 

“For Sakusa Kiyoomi, right?” A younger woman with dark brown hair came up to them. They nodded and waited for her to continue, she smiled sympathetically, “He’s stable and awake currently. He’s experiencing some withdrawal symptoms from the opioids which is not uncommon under these circumstances. We gave him a low dose of buprenorphine to help with the symptoms for the time being,” 

“Are we able to see him?” Atsumu’s voice came out rough and tired. 

“I can ask him if he would like to see the two of you,” she said sweetly, though she looked as if she didn’t know how positive the outcome was going to be. 

“You can just ask about Miya. Thank you,” Akaashi responded politely. She nodded and turned away to enter the room Kiyoomi was recovering in. 

“You don’t want to see him?” Atsumu asked, wringing his hands. He didn’t know how comfortable he was going in alone. Kiyoomi deserved to have someone beside him while he laid in a hospital bed after what happened. He deserved to know that someone cares and wants to be here for him. Atsumu wants to be that person but…

There’s a nasty voice in the back of his head trying to convince him that Kiyoomi doesn’t want to see him… That seeing him would make everything ten times worse. He keeps trying to convince his mind that it wasn’t his fault that Kiyoomi basically overdosed. He didn’t make Kiyoomi do anything. He shouldn’t have to feel this guilt. 

“A lot happened tonight. I don’t want him thinking about the fact that more people have to know about his drug use,” Akaashi shrugged. 

Moments later the nurse walked out of the room and waved Atsumu over. He looked over to Akaashi who gave a quick head jerk in the direction of the door and squeezed his hand for encouragement. He nervously walked to the door of the hospital room and allowed the nurse to walk him inside. 

He was met with Kiyoomi half laying, half sitting up in the hospital bed, in a classic hospital gown strapped to an IV. He looked dishevelled and was frowning as he spotted Atsumu walk in. The nurse let them be and closed the door on her way out. 

It was quiet for several minutes minus the sound of Kiyoomi sniffling every so often. Neither of them knew what to say. Atsumu stood near the end of the bed looking at all the machines around the room as Kiyoomi picked at his nails.

“I have your phone,” Atsumu finally said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the phone shakily. Kiyoomi looked up and held his hand out to take the phone back. It was hard to miss the obvious tremors Kiyoomi had running through his body. 

“You stole my keys,” Kiyoomi said eventually. 

Atsumu sighed and sat down on the chair beside the hospital bed, “I did. And if ya expect me to say sorry, I won’t,” 

“Okay,” Kiyoomi nodded, “I know… We just started dating and I fucked shit up pretty badly but… If you’re going to end it, can we talk about it later?” His voice was quiet, vulnerable.

Atsumu felt some sort of relief. Kiyoomi didn't seem overly mad. He wasn’t yelling at him to get out like their last interaction… It felt like they we’re on pause. Like the whole interaction was being ignored for the time being so they could rest, they could breathe… It was through unfortunate circumstances, and Kiyoomi was probably physically feeling like shit right now but they had a second to recoup. 

“Yeah,” He whispered, “we don’t have to talk about this right now, Omi. Let’s get ya feeling better first, okay?” Atsumu sighed,  “Motoya and I were really worried,” 

Kiyoomi groaned and threw his head back against the pillow, “He’s gonna kill me,”  

“He loves ya, yknow. '' Atsumu muttered, he found his hand resting on Kiyoomi’s knee over the hospital blanket. 

“Sometimes it’s overwhelming,” 

“Bein’ loved?” Kiyoomi nodded, “How?” Atsumu couldn’t understand. He never feels like he could get enough love. 

“It’s hard to believe it’s unconditional… What if who they think they love isn’t who you truly are? When they find out, how do you know they’ll still love you or at least love you to the same extent? It just feels like a lot of pressure because one wrong move might make them question why they thought of you like that in the first place,” 

Kiyoomi let his eyes wander the hospital room. His words flowed without a care for the vulnerability, probably from whatever they had him on he thought, looking at the IV in his arm. 

Atsumu felt some sort of unexplainable rage build up inside of him. Hearing Kiyoomi’s disbelief in unconditional love hurt for a reason he couldn’t place. 

He has several people in his life where unconditional love isn’t even a question, it’s just the fact of the matter. 

His brother is the first person he thinks of when he hears ‘unconditional love’. They bicker often, say they hate each other and sabotage each other only to regret and feel guilty afterwards (though they wouldn’t admit that outloud).

But even during all the squabbles if anyone said anything about the other they’d get a face full. Even when Atsumu said dumb shit and hoped he'd never see his brother's face again he’d still want the best for Osamu. But of course they would always come back to each other stronger than ever. 

“Do ya think there’s still parts of ya Komori’s still not seen?” he asked, genuinely curious.  

Motoya seemed to be adamant in believing he knew everything about Kiyoomi, that he had seen and been through everything with him. 

Kiyoomi took a second to answer, “I don’t think anyone will ever see all of us,”  

“That’s a political answer,” 

Kiyoomi looked at him with a dead stare that made him forcibly hold in a chuckle, “He’s seen a lot. Parts that I wish didn’t exist, parts of me that I don’t even remember all that well. I guess he’s seen as much as anyone will, to some extent,” 

“Some things we get to keep to ourselves, Omi. I don’t think that because someone can’t see that part of you or might not like that part of you, should dictate the way you view love. The whole point of unconditional love is accepting what someone has done and seeing them for who they are today. Loving them for who they are regardless. 

“We want those we love to be happy and be the best versions of themselves so we can see them thrive. We also have to understand that it takes time and that none of us are perfect. 

“Frankly, if someone who claims to love ya doesn’t understand the fact that you'll have some parts that aren’t the prettiest, then they never truly grasped the concept of love before they told ya so,”

Kiyoomi stared at him with glossy eyes. Neither of them said anything. 

Atsumu couldn’t help but have his mind wander, did he say too much? Did Kiyoomi just want to say a few things to get off his chest and suddenly he was getting an ear full from a guy he was planning on breaking up with soon? 

Atsumu couldn’t help but think he might be giving the wrong impression with the monologue he just gave. Did it sound as if he was going to confess his love for Kiyoomi? Is that something Kiyoomi would want to hear right now? 

Atsumu wasn’t ready to go so far and say those words yet, his mind has been kicked and tossed around the past few days. It's been hard to think straight. They’ve also only got together officially. Atsumu has had his eyes on Kiyoomi for a long time though so it probably won’t take long but still… 

Atsumu started to slowly remove his hand from where it lay on Kiyoomi’s knee. Before he could get too far Kiyoomi reached out for his hand threatening to leave and held onto it tight, “Stay,” he said quietly. Atsumu swallowed the lump in his throat but nodded slowly.  

“How are you feeling?” Atsumu asked cautiously.

Kiyoomi rolled his head to face away from the blonde, “I just want to go home,” his voice came out weakly. 

“Soon Omi, we can go home soon,” he gave Kiyoomi’s hand a small squeeze. 

They spent the next hour in mostly quiet, Atsumu let Kiyoomi know that Akaashi was in the waiting room and would drive them home once he was discharged. He only received a nod in response to his surprise. 

He expected more questions about why Akaashi was here, how much he knew and all that, but Atsumu was glad he didn’t have to get into all of that right now. 

“I was supposed to take my medication like two hours ago,” Kiyoomi said off handedly as he was scrolling on his phone. 

Atsumu looked up from his own phone and frowned, “What happens if you miss it?” Kiyoomi shrugged, not bothered by his missed dose, “Well, we’re in a hospital I'm sure they have a pill of it lying around,” He said before standing up and leaving the room before Kiyoomi could interject. 

Moments later he came back with the nurse who looked slightly confused but tried to look as positive as she could, “What’s the issue, Mr. Sakusa?” 

Kiyoomi looked at Atsumu with an unimpressed gaze before sighing, “It’s not a big deal, I didn’t mean to bother you, truly,”

“He takes medication daily, and he told me he missed his dose he usually takes. Would it be possible to get just one dose?” Atsumu asked. 

“Um,” the nurse looked as if she hadn’t had this type of question before, “Can I ask what the medication is?” 

Kiyoomi sighed, “Lamotrigine 200mg,” 

“An anticonvulsant?” She seemed distraught by how this conversation was developing, “You stated earlier you don’t have a history of seizur-”

“I don’t,” he interrupted, “I don’t have epilepsy or seizures. It’s… for my bipolar. It’s a mood stabilizer or whatever,” he mumbled. 

“Oh,” She said awkwardly, “apologies… But we also asked if you take any medications and you hadn’t mentioned lamotrigine…” 

“I told you about the medications I took today, the aripiprazole and alprazolam. I didn’t take the lamotrigine today so I didn’t think it was relevant,” He said passively. 

She sighed, looking as if she was holding back annoyance, “I would have to ask if it’s possible, but you’re going to be discharged soon and this might push back the process,” 

“It’s fine, I’ll take it when I get home,” Kiyoomi said with a forced smile. She nodded and left the room.

“Anticonvulsant?” Atsumu wondered out loud. 

 “Ugh, coming to a hospital for an ‘overdose’ and asking the nurse for drugs is not the move, Atsumu,” He used air quotes and scrubbed his hands over his face. It was the first time either of them explicitly brought up the overdose, Atsumu felt a cold chill run down his spine. 

“When you say it like that… But, it’s a prescription,” 

“Still sounds like I'm trying to pull a fast one over them somehow. Addicts can be sneaky,” he shrugged. 

“Do they know you’re an addict?” Atsumu asked.

Kiyoomi thought for a second, “I mean probably. I lied of course but they aren’t idiots. It doesn’t seem like they looked at my file but I told them I took xanax for my anxiety, and oxy for the chronic pain I have. I told them it was my first time trying… the other stuff I did,” He avoided telling Atsumu the truth, feeling too uncomfortable to do so, “But they did end up putting this IV in so,” He shrugged looking at the IV next to the scars of his past drug endeavours. 

“Oh, right. Do they not know you…” He awkwardly pointed towards his nose.

“They don’t have to know how the drugs got in my system. I didn’t tell them. Akaashi didn’t say anything back at the apartment either,” He shrugged.

“How do you know what Akaashi said back at the apartment?” Atsumu furrowed his eyebrows. He thought Kiyoomi was unconscious the whole time. 

“I could hear everything,” Kiyoomi said as if he was bored. “I wasn’t going to overdose. I might have been close, but I’ve been close like that many times before and been fine. Nodding out isn’t overdosing,” 

Atsumu must’ve had 'confusion' written all over his face because Kiyoomi sighed. 

“Nodding out is basically the state before an overdose. So you’d go from high to nodding out to overdose, I guess? When someone is nodding out you wanna make sure they’re still breathing and responding. Don’t jump the gun and call the paramedics or give them a fuck ton of naloxone,” he groaned. 

“Sorry for saving your life?” Atsumu muttered. He was slightly annoyed by the ungrateful tone Kiyoomi was using. 

Kiyoomi turned to look at Atsumu, “I’m sorry. I never should’ve put you in that position to begin with. If you ever give someone naloxone in the future I beg you to give them a lower dose to begin with. I would’ve been fine with like 0.4mg, like Akaashi requested. What was given was definitely more. I probably wouldn’t have had to come here honestly. And only if the person is unresponsive or unconscious,” Kiyoomi leaned back against the pillows and shut his eyes. 

“I don’t think you were responsive, Kiyoomi. You were barely conscious,” 

“Barely is still something. When have I ever been the most responsive person to begin with?” Kiyoomi tried joking. Atsumu’s lips pursed into a straight line, unimpressed. 

Atsumu wasn’t close enough when they first got there to see how he was responding to Akaashi’s stimulus. If Kiyoomi is saying he was hearing them then he must’ve been somewhat conscious, more than what Akaashi probably thought. He still wasn't responding enough for Akaashi to think he was going to pull through without medical intervention though.  

Either way Atsumu felt like Kiyoomi was too dismissive of the situation, it scared the shit out of him. Here Kiyoomi was saying they shouldn’t have called the paramedics? They should’ve given him less naloxone? His entire night felt like it was a nightmare and that’s all Kiyoomi was thinking about?  

He shook his head wanting to change the subject, “Did you say you have chronic pain?” His mind rewinded their conversation back.

How did he not know Kiyoomi had chronic pain? He was the setter of his team and he didn’t know his outside hitter had chronic pain issues? What kind of setter, and boyfriend didn’t know that? 

Kiyoomi forced a tight smile but didn’t give him much else than a small nod, “Why haven’t you told me?” Kiyoomi sighed, but before he could say anything the nurse walked in. 

She told them the procedure for discharge and showed him the bag where his clothes were folded into after they changed him into the hospital gown. 

The conversation was dropped as they got everything in order to leave. Kiyoomi was still physically weak and nauseous but hid it as well as he could so as to not alarm Atsumu or Akaashi as they drove back to the MSBY apartment complex. 

The car ride was tense and no one really knew what to say. So no one said much of anything. They got back to the complex and left with a couple thank yous directed to Akaashi who gave them both a tight smile in response and a ‘goodnight, rest well’. 

“Do you want to sleep over at mine?” Atsumu asked as they rode the elevator up to their floor. Kiyoomi stared at the ground. Sensing his hesitance, he spoke up again hoping he would soothe his nerves, “We don’t have to talk about anything, tonight. Or tomorrow. I just want to make sure you’re okay,” 

Kiyoomi’s face contorted, jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed. It was as if he was holding back from expressing emotions though that in itself seemed emotive enough.

“I have some tea I think you might like,” Atsumu whispered offhandedly. The elevator doors opened and they both stepped out walking slowly down the hallway. 

“Okay,” It was so quiet that Atsumu almost missed it.

The next morning Kiyoomi opted out of practice for obvious reasons. Atsumu had gotten up early and made his way into the bedroom as he was sleeping on the couch. When he opened the door to check on Kiyoomi he was sleeping with a deep frown on his face. 

Atsumu reached over and felt his forehead which had a slight sheen of sweat. The covers were kicked off and he was lying in a t-shirt and old baggy basketball shorts that went past his knees. The room itself wasn’t warm by any means, he knew from his research he was experiencing withdrawal symptoms. 

One of Atsumu’s winning points to sleeping on the couch was the claim of Kiyoomi’s withdrawal symptoms. Kiyoomi had originally offered to sleep on the couch, knowing he would be tossing and turning all night and didn’t want to kick the host out of his own bed. Atsumu rejected obviously, wanting him to have the most comfort he could since he would have enough discomfort as is. 

Atsumu was admittedly a little worried about going to practice today. He would be leaving Kiyoomi alone with these symptoms that could be cured from one trip to his own apartment. 

He knew that the man would inevitably contemplate it sometime today, probably the whole day. It was just the reality of what Kiyoomi was going through. But the thought of him having to deal with it alone and not having support with him ate Atsumu up inside. He didn’t think Kiyoomi would be comfortable talking to Motoya yet either so he didn’t have his cousin’s support to help him through if he needed it. 

Atsumu moved as quietly as he could to the kitchen to fill up a big water bottle of ice and water to place on the bedside table for Kiyoomi when he woke up. He wrote a quick note on a loose paper he found around the kitchen. He gathered both of Kiyoomi’s pill bottles from the bathroom, not remembering which one he took in the morning, and some Ibuprofen to place on the side table as well. 

As he packed his gym bag and got his shoes on to leave for the day he felt a rush of guilt flash through him. He shook it off, turning off the lights of the apartment and left for practice. 

He thought about bringing Kiyoomi’s keys with him to practice so he wouldn’t be able to get access to his stash of drugs but he knew it would be wrong to keep him from his own home. He was an adult. It would be wrong of him to restrict access to his own home, especially if he didn’t ask. 

When Kiyoomi woke up he felt as if his bones were aching. He felt nauseous, he was trembling. His head hurt on top of it all. He slammed his palm against his forehead and reached over to the side table where his phone was, muttering profanities under his breath. 

The only thing he could think of was how badly he wanted his drugs. If this was any normal weekend he would have some ready on his side table to get him started in the morning. He wanted his fix so bad. 

It was around 12:30pm. Atsumu had gone to volleyball practice today after he had reassured him that he would be absolutely fine alone. Before he could register any notification on his phone screen his stomach made some unpleasant noises. Oh, great. This is how today’s going to go. 

He got up from the bed and proceeded to destroy Atsumu’s bathroom with his most embarrassing withdrawal symptom. He honestly would rather just stay on the toilet and die in shame whilst spraying febreeze than have to deal with this consciously. 

After all that, he crawled back into the bed and crawled into the foetal position. As he did so he noticed a water bottle on the side table along with his pills. Oh, sweet. 

He sat up a bit and grabbed the bottle and ibuprofen along with his medication he had brought from his own place last night and downed them all at once before noticing a note on the table as well. He furrowed his eyebrows at the messy handwriting.

Morning Omi,

You seemed a bit warm so I moved the little fan in the room and you can use it if you’d like. Cloths/towels are in the linen closet if you wanna shower. You can go through my clothes if you need some. 

There’s some gatorade in the fridge for some electrolytes. Some leftover food in the containers with a blue lid you can heat up if you get hungry! If you’re feeling up to making something feel free! 

I’ll have my ringer on so if you need anything don’t hesitate to text me or call me. For anything.  

I’ll be back after practice. Get some rest and drink lots of fluid!! 

There was a small drawing under the writing that Kiyoomi honestly couldn’t make out but it was adorable nonetheless. 

It would be a lie to say the note didn’t make his eyes misty. None of his ex boyfriends would ever go out of their way to write a note for him. Maybe he was just feeling emotional because of the withdrawal, yeah, that was probably it. Stupid symptoms. 

He folded the note once and reached for the fan. He could barely reach it from where he sat and the thought of having to move to switch it on made him want to scream. He closed his eyes and pushed himself up a bit to flip the switch on the fan before curling in a ball on the bed, the note clutched in his hand as he closed his eyes. 

He tried to go back to sleep, but he was so uncomfortable. His mind was screaming at him to get what he needed to stop all the yucky feelings he was having. He felt like he was going to die. He rocked himself lightly, groaning from the pain and discomfort. 

He tried focusing on Atsumu, he pictured the blonde and his bright smile, genuine eyes… The man who genuinely cared about him, despite everything he came to learn about him. He didn’t deserve any of it. The bed he laid on, the bed he was dirtying with sweat and tears, shouldn’t be subjected to hold him like it did. 

Eventually he was able to fall back asleep until Atsumu returned home. He awoke to a crash in the living room followed by a string of curse words. He groaned and dug his head into the pillow, one of his hands still holding loosely onto the note he had woken up to. 

A new beam of light entered the room as the door opened and Atsumu peaked his head in. Kiyoomi turned his head to him and squinted his eyes with a frown. 

“Ya look like a bear cub,” Atsumu said absentmindedly. Kiyoomi scoffed, trying to hide his face. He didn't know why the comment made him feel so giddy. He was feeling like shit he shouldn’t be allowed to feel anything but the anguish, he smushed his face into the pillow again. “It’s cute,” Atsumu chuckled, walking into the room. 

“So random,” he mumbled against the fabric. 

He felt the bed next to him dip before a hand was lightly placed on his flank. He grumbled and rolled over to face Atsumu who looked down at him with a slightly sad expression. 

“How ya feelin’?” 

“I’ve been sleeping,” He said simply. Which wasn’t a lie, but he did feel like he had been steamrolled and then pumped back up with a tire pump when he wasn’t. 

“Good. Ya need lotsa rest,”

“Yes, Doctor Miya,” Kiyoomi mumbled, despite the growing cramps and prickles of sweat he felt. 

“Did ya need a stuffy ‘stead've a note for comfort?” He asked, noticing the note in Kiyoomi’s hand.  

“Hm, no. I fell asleep laughing at your handwriting,” 

“Ha ha. Okay,” He rolled his eyes playfully and stood up, giving Kiyoomi’s waist a couple soft pats, “Gonna heat up some leftovers. Can ya eat?” Kiyoomi grimaced. He thought about how he currently needed to use the washroom and how he really did not have an appetite. 

He shook his head, “Drink some water then,” Atsumu all but asked. 

Kiyoomi dreadfully made his way to the washroom stealthily and back without Atsumu noticing. He sat on the bed for a few minutes. He wanted to go out to the living room but it was too far. His body felt so heavy and achy.

He breathed out a heavy sigh before grabbing his phone and a thin blanket from the bed and made his way to the living room, walking like a zombie. Atsumu was standing next to the couch scrolling through shows to watch. 

“Have ya heard of the show ‘Euphoria’?” he asked suddenly. Kiyoomi plopped down on the couch wrapping the blanket around himself and curling into a ball. 

The question caught him off guard because, yes, who hasn’t? He hasn’t seen the show because It was a show with the main character who was a drug addict, and well, Kiyoomi didn’t want to watch a show that might glamorize the use of drugs. Why would Atsumu bring up that show when he was currently withdrawing after an overdose? Kind of insensitive, but okay... 

“Um, like the majority of people our age have, yes,” Kiyoomi said kind of coldly. 

Atsumu must’ve caught onto the tone of his voice because he turned to him, alarmed, “Is it that popular?” Kiyoomi made a confused face at him, “I’m not really caught up in like pop culture or whatever. I don’t know what it’s about. 

“When I was looking up bipolar characters it said the main character of ‘Euphoria’ has bipolar, and other mental health issues but I can't remember what they are,” 

Kiyoomi felt a little less defensive. Atsumu was just clueless. Okay. 

“Ya don’t seem like yer fond of the show,” He chuckled awkwardly, “You seen it?”  

“No I haven’t. I only know a bit about the show. The show has a strong drugs theme, probably why it's called ‘euphoria’. I was just a little on edge when you mentioned it, sorry,” Kiyoomi curled into himself a bit. 

Atsumu closed his eyes in realization, “No, that makes a lotta sense. I shoulda done more research before bringin’ it up,” 

“Maybe we can watch it when I’m not… you know,” Kiyoomi trailed off. Atsumu agreed before throwing on a random cartoon they could both mindlessly watch as Atsumu ate. Kiyoomi mainly scrolled through his phone, ignoring the texts he got from the team wishing he felt better. Atsumu had told the team he had caught the flu and had to be out for the next few days. 

They were still debating whether or not to let their coach know what had happened. Kiyoomi insisted that he didn’t need to know. Atsumu thought that he should know that he had gone to the hospital at least. They decided to stop talking about it as Kiyoomi was growing irritable and was about to storm off back to his own place rather than stay the night. 

Kiyoomi decided after the cartoon was over that he should call his cousin and talk to him finally. Atsumu offered to stay or to leave, Kiyoomi contemplated for a second but ultimately allowed him to stay. 

The facetime call rang twice before it was frantically picked up and Komori’s face was shown on the screen, “Kiyoomi!” He shouted, his face was not happy. 

“Motoya,” he acknowledged. 

“You… bastard,” his voice was weak, walking the line of a sob. 

“I’m okay, Motoya…” Kiyoomi said quietly. 

“Only because Atsumu was there! You… You almost left me. Again. Kiyoomi…” His voice was heartbreaking. Atsumu bit his lip trying to hold back his own emotions. 

“I’m sorry,” 

“You said that last time. This time you got proper care, last time you got lucky… Kiyoomi, this can’t keep happening. You have to get help,” Kiyoomi gritted his teeth but held back whatever he was going to say, Atsumu could tell.  

Atsumu was confused with what was being said, last time? Had Kiyoomi overdosed before? 

“We’ve talked about this…” Kiyoomi said through gritted teeth.

“I can’t accept that Kiyoomi. I know what you said. I just don't think you can do it… Just get sober… Cutting down on your use will just make you want to use more, it just sounds like a recipe for a vicious cycle you’ll never escape. I want you to be happy, Kiyoomi,” 

Kiyoomi scoffed, “‘Just get sober’ alright, thanks, genius, never thought of that one. Motoya, do you think I like ruining my life like this?” 

Before he could say more, he was cut off by the other, “Yes. I do. Because if you cared enough you’d put in the work and actually want to stop. You’d want to get sober. You’d want to get better.  

“I know you don’t want to get better Kiyoomi, okay? I get it! You’re self-destructive and have no sense of self-preservation. But don’t come and lie to my face about how you would if you could because I know you don’t fucking want to. Just admit it. It would hurt a lot fucking less,” 

Kiyoomi was left speechless, how was he even supposed to respond to that? He felt like he was put under the spotlight, Motoya grilling into him, Atsumu watching… 

“Do you know how hard it is to watch one of my last and closest family members kill themselves over and over again? And he doesn’t even care! He just keeps doing it again and again and again,” His voice broke tears streaming down his face at this point. 

Kiyoomi couldn’t hold in his own tears either. His eyelashes were clumping together as the tears silently fell and his nose began to run unattractively. 

“You’re all I have left Kiyoomi…” 

“Stop,” he protested weakly. 

“No. You’re going to listen to me. You’re going to listen to how much your life affects mine, because I care about you Kiyoomi. You know my fucked up home life. You were there when they told me my mom killed herself,” Kiyoomi inhaled sharply, “I was alone.” Komori was holding back sobs.  

Atsumu had placed a box of tissues in front of Kiyoomi which he had picked up and used at some point. 

“When I was sent to foster care, you and your family were the only people who cared. They wouldn’t let me stay with you but you let me visit all the time when my foster parents were high or on a bender. It was so crowded in that house. 

“But you guys… You helped pay for me to go to school, for my food, I don’t know how I would've done it without you. I would’ve drowned. 

“When you started doing drugs… Kiyoomi, I was so scared. You always kept me grounded, you made me feel safe but then suddenly, you weren’t okay. You couldn’t keep yourself safe. 

“You reminded me of my mother. Then you started acting like my foster parents and I was terrified. I still love you. I’ll always love you. I know you’re struggling. I just don’t know how to help you, I couldn’t help them. I can’t fail you too, Kiyoomi. I need you. Please don’t leave me, Kiyoomi,” he begged. 

“Stop, please,” Kiyoomi begged, barely a whisper. Atsumu bet Komori couldn’t even hear it through the speaker.

“I can’t do this without you, Kiyoomi,” 

“‘Tsumu,” Kiyoomi whispered, turning his attention to the blonde who was sitting on the chair rather than the couch as to not be in the frame of the facetime call. Atsumu reached over and laid his hand on his knee for comfort. 

“I’ll leave you two,” Motoya said, passively before hanging up the facetime call. The screen went black. 

Atsumu moved over beside him on the couch and immediately Kiyoomi curled into his side, finding comfort in his warmth. 

Kiyoomi let out a heart wrenching sob that tore up Atsumu’s heart and threw it on the ground. He leaned back and rubbed Kiyoomi’s back lightly, pulling him more onto his chest so he could hold onto him better. 

Kiyoomi ended up staying at Atsumu’s apartment for the rest of the week. They had both gone to Kiyoomi’s place to gather a bag of his clothes and hygiene products so he wouldn’t have to keep going back and forth between apartments. 

Atsumu didn’t ask what exactly the reasoning was behind his wanting to stay but when he had asked if he would be okay going back to his own apartment alone Kiyoomi looked nervous. He just chalked it down to not wanting to deal with the withdrawal alone. 

Halfway through the second night of Kiyoomi staying there. Atsumu had been sleeping on the couch whilst Kiyoomi stared at the bedroom ceiling. His anxiety was high and sleep felt impossible, never mind the body aches, cramps and fever he was experiencing. It was like a flu on steroids. He had a trash can next to the bed in case he had to throw up and wouldn’t make it to the washroom.  

He stumbled out of the room hesitantly with a stuffed animal Atsumu had given him to cuddle with. He felt like a child asking their parents to sleep in their bed because they had a nightmare.  

He entered the living room and saw Atsumu sprawled out on the couch. The back cushions were thrown on the ground giving him more room with one leg thrown over the back of the couch. There was no way he was comfortable like that.  

He walked over and shoved the blonde’s shoulder to wake him up. He didn’t wake up. He forgot how heavy of a sleeper Atsumu was. “Atsumu,” He said gently, shoving him once again. No response. He rolled his eyes.  

With a bit more aggression he shook him more, “Atsumu,” he said, louder. 

He grumbled awake and sat up with squinted yet alarmed eyes, “You okay?”  

“Come to bed,” he basically demanded. 

“You should be comfy, Omi. Be a starfish,” he basically slurred in his state of half awakeness after registering the non-threat. 

“I can’t sleep, I want you near,” he said quietly. He felt even more juvenile, squeezing the stuffed animal closer. 

Atsumu theatrically clenched his chest with his fist, “Yer gonna kill me,” 

From that night on they slept together despite Kiyoomi’s tossing and turning. Kiyoomi may have lay awake most nights but the solid presence beside him calmed his nerves to a degree to where it was manageable. He was able to stuff down the uncontrollable urge to grab his keys and run off to get some benzos or opioids from his own apartment.  

Most of the time he spent drawing shapes on Atsumu’s chest and spelling out words or writing stories. When he played music to ease the noise in his mind he would match the pattern to the rhythm. He would eventually be able to match Atsumu’s steady breaths and fall asleep even if it meant he was awoken rudely by a nightmare hours later. 

During the days Kiyoomi would find himself curled up in Atsumu’s room wanting nothing more but to cave and relapse or simply die. When Atsumu came home he would try to distract Kiyoomi from how he felt, despite not knowing what was actually going on in his mind.  

It would either result in Kiyoomi entertaining his attempts and spending time together on the couch even if Kiyoomi felt like he was dying, or Kiyoomi would shut him out by going nonverbal and taking over Atsumu’s bedroom. Atsumu didn’t mind per se but he did feel bad that he couldn’t do more for the man. 

Atsumu made him comfort foods that he usually likes eating when he’s sick and filled him up with fluid at all times. Constantly making sure he was drinking water and electrolytes. It was getting slightly annoying to Kiyoomi but he knew it was out of concern and care so he couldn’t complain.  

Kiyoomi had managed to deflect any questions that eluded to the issues at hand and Atsumu was able to get the hint that he wasn’t ready to talk about them. He was getting restless though, it was obvious. 

They were at a standstill. Pretending as if Atsumu wasn’t carrying around the weight of the words Kiyoomi threw at him the day of the overdose. Kiyoomi acted as if the guilt of what he said and did that day wasn’t eating him alive and haunting him day and night. They would only be able to avoid the conversation for so much longer. Kiyoomi couldn’t keep pushing it away. 

When the weekend finally came around Kiyoomi woke up to the smell of breakfast food wafting through the apartment. He made his way to the kitchen, and grumpily sat at the table. His appetite was starting to come back pretty strong. 

“Mornin’ Omi-Omi,” a bright smile shone so bright he almost felt like he had to squint and reach for sunglasses or even those glasses people wore for the eclipse. He grumbled his usual good morning, showing no signs of his insides completely melting, “how we feelin’ this mornin’? Yer fever doesn’t seem too bad!” 

Kiyoomi nodded slowly, he hadn’t realized, but it wasn’t untrue. His skin wasn’t as slick with sweat and the chills weren’t running through his body. 

He still had tremors in his legs and hands but if you didn’t look closely or feel them they could be overseen. The tremors might also just be from the lack of food he’s been eating but who’s to say.

The blonde smiled again and turned back to the food he was tending too. He turned the music up that was playing quietly in the background and hummed along to it as he cooked. 

Kiyoomi watched silently, his mind wondering if he could ever reach a baseline of contentness that Atsumu exuded. His mind wondered, was this Atsumu’s baseline? When Atsumu was alone, what was he like? How did the brain of someone who was free of mental illness feel?  

It was such a strange concept to consider. All he knew was what he lived. Dysthymia was his baseline for as long as he could remember. He knew in theory it wasn’t how people normally lived, people didn’t have an overarching dread and guilt for just being alive. What was it like to be better than that but not too high? 

His other moods were depression and hypomania which were also not the baseline for people without mental health issues. He figured he might occasionally feel the baseline of what others feel on a normal basis but for him it was a strange feeling. It was as if something was off. 

It was like the feeling alluded to something bad that was going to happen, something was about to tip the world off its axis… So he would spiral and eventually find himself back in his baseline of dysthymia at least. Why couldn’t he just experience moods normally? 

“What’s on yer mind?” Atsumu snapped him out of his pesky thoughts. 

He blinked a few times, clearing his eyes from the blurriness that seemed to have appeared as he was staring off into space. He looked over at the spread of food that was being placed in front of him, it looked delicious. Atsumu put extra effort into plating everything nicely and added garnish.  

“Trying to understand normality,” He said, picking up some utensils from the table. 

Atsumu held back a smile or a laugh because he understood that Kiyoomi was probably not even joking but the passiveness in the way he delivered it made him giggle. “Ah. In what way, exactly?”  

“Mood wise. Baseline moods. People… being content,” He shrugged, “It’s not a really fun morning topic. I don’t want to bring your mood down,” Atsumu looked at him with those eyes that held the sun. It peered into his soul, trying to tell him something, something that he couldn’t hear… Maybe he just wasn’t listening hard enough, “You seem in good spirits. I don’t want to ruin it,”  

“Omi,” he sang, “Look. I understand thatcha think talkin’ about all this will put a damper on my mood. And sure, it does hurt to hear because it’s difficult hearin’ someone you care about have such upsetting thoughts, but the last thing I want is for ya to have to suffer alone.  

“If I can help ya breathe a little by listenin’ to whatcha gotta say, as selfish as it sounds, it would make me feel a lot better,” 

Kiyoomi turned his words over in his head. He understood where he was coming from. When he was in college he also got immense pleasure just from knowing he was the friend people would turn to for advice or to rant to. 

It didn’t really matter that the weight of the words being said was suffocating at times because he knew that they both felt some air of relief after. Of course there were some blurred lines, boundaries that should be set and known to not be crossed that his friends never made clear.  

“It can be hard seeing other people happy. Which I know is messed up,” He said before taking a bite out of the food in front of him, “knowing that people without mental illness don’t have the same brain as me, and go through the day, experience things with a different outlook as me is a weird concept to wrap my head around,” Atsumu nodded along with him as they ate.  

“I don’t really understand a ‘normal’ baseline mood. And I think that absence of knowledge is really messing with my head,” he sighed.  

“Sorry. Correct me because I guess I'm wrong here… I thought that people with bipolar did have times where they were ‘normal’,” He used finger quotes, “I understand the episodes, the highs, the lows. But between those I thought there were periods of, well, neither?”  

Kiyoomi grimaced and lifted a shoulder as a half shrug, “For some people I guess. I have Dysthymia too. Or, persistent depressive disorder, whatever people call it. Dysthymia is basically my baseline mood. It’s a less severe grade of depression, so not quite major depression… Same symptoms, just to a lesser degree. When I have a depressive episode I get lower, into the major depression level,”  

“How long have you had dysthymia?” He pronounced it slowly making sure to get it right. 

“For as long as I could remember?” Kiyoomi thought back. He tried recalling a time in his life where he didn’t feel like this.  

His childhood was foggy, to be fair. His consciousness only allows him to reach into more concrete memories starting from grade 6. Even those were spotty and not very trustworthy. He knew that’s when things started to get bad, skipping meals and thinking about self harm.  

“I just wonder what it’s like to not be so… gloomy all the time,” He chuckled darkly. 

Atsumu gave him a sad smile, “I would give you the opportunity at the drop of a hat if I could,” They were silent for a while, eating their food while listening to the music playing from Atsumu’s speakers, “Are we gonna talk about some other stuff too today? We already got the ball rollin’.”  

“I guess so. Where do we start?” He gave in. He pushed it off for long enough.

Kiyoomi was doing better. His symptoms were basically cleared up by now. He still had a couple lingering aches and pains, a little nausea and his diarrhoea hasn’t completely decided to subside. 

Mentally… He wasn’t doing the best. He was thinking about his drugs almost constantly. He wanted to dash out the door and get all the drugs he needed from his apartment. He didn’t like being sober, he fucking hated it when he was forced to be sober on weekdays and now he was making himself go through all this pain just so he could hate himself all the time? It sounds so pointless. He couldn’t help but feel like everything was pointless. 

Atsumu cleared his throat, gaining Kiyoomi’s attention, “Start easy? Chronic pain? How didn’t I, your setter extraordinaire, not know about this?” He said in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

Kiyoomi felt a small smile tug at his lips, “I guess I just assumed everyone knew. Or at least put two and two together,” Atsumu felt a frown brew on his face as he tried thinking of what he was missing, “Don’t think too hard, you’ll hurt your hurt your tiny volleyball brain,” Kiyoomi jokes, “Unfortunately, having naturally flexible joints comes with side effects,” 

Atsumu’s brain clicked into gear as soon as he heard those words. Of course, his bendy ass body. Kiyoomi continued to explain to him the diagnosis of his hypermobility and how it led to chronic pain. He told him how he was prescribed a low dose of opioids once in college for the pain because he kept complaining about it to his doctor.  

It was partially true, he was in pain, but he didn’t need the painkillers for that reason alone.  

“Next topic choice?” Atsumu supplied as he gathered the dishes. Kiyoomi shrugged, “Do you want options or somethin’?” He nodded, “Alright, let’s see. We can… Talk about us, Motoya, Akaashi and the overdose, coach or you,”  

“Those are very vague topic choices,”  

“We have a lotta talk about,” He shrugged. 

“I don’t feel comfortable telling Coach anything, so that’s not really a topic,” Atsumu sighed upon hearing this but accepted Kiyoomi’s wishes. 

“Motoya… god. I’m sorry I made you stay during that. I didn’t think it was going to happen like that,”  

“You have nothing to apologize for. It was a lot, especially after what happened,” He said as he ushered Kiyoomi to the couch so they could continue talking, “I know you said it was hard for you to believe in unconditional love, but to me that sounded pretty real, 'Samu has never been so raw and emotional expressing his love for me,”  

Kiyoomi nodded slowly, “My brain is just not… right. It’s hard to believe even if the evidence all points to one answer. It was hard hearing him say all those things.  

“I think what really stuck with me was the fact that I made myself think I was trapped but the way out is right in front of me? I knew before that the only way to recover is to want to recover. I can’t be sober if I don’t want to be.  

“I hate ruining my life, well, I thought I did. But I think I needed someone to tell me, like, forcibly make me hear the fact that I'm self destructive, to actually understand that I find comfort in ruining my life,” Atsumu couldn’t understand the sentiment but he listened. How could someone like ruining their life? Find comfort in it?  

“All I know is destruction. What would I be without it? It’s like my mood… If I was euthymic, the baseline that normal people are, I would spiral, it wouldn’t feel right. I would start thinking that something is wrong, something bad is going to happen because good things don’t feel right. So when everything is calm, I self-destruct. 

“I never wanted to get better so I never tried, there was no point. Why would I go through the pain of detox just to relapse and then detox again,” Atsumu bit his tongue, he didn’t want to point out the fact that he was basically detoxing right now. 

“So yeah, I like ruining my life. Motoya is right. I’m more fucked up than I try to let people believe,” 

“Don’t say that…” 

“It’s true though,” He laughed dryly, “I’ve overdosed before. My ex gave me naloxone and let me recover in his house. Never went to the hospital. As soon as I had a few withdrawal symptoms, I took some more. I’m not okay,” He said, tapping on his temple, “Up here. I scare people, Atsumu. I scare people that love me and all I care about is getting another fix. 

“People care enough to look after me, ask me how I am and all I'm thinking about is how many pills I have left and when I might need to call my dealer,” 

Atsumu pulled one of Kiyoomi’s trembling hands into his own, drawing circles in his palm, “It’s not your fault,” he whispered, “You wouldn’t blame a sick person for coughing, right? You can’t blame someone for showing symptoms of something they’re struggling with,” 

“I hate it, Atsumu. I hate what my brain has become. It feels rotten. I wake up and I’m fuelled with guilt for even opening my eyes and knowing that i’ll have to think, knowing I’ll have the same ugly thoughts I have everyday,”  

“You don’t have to deal with them alone,” Atsumu murmured, pressing Kiyoomi into his side. 

He shook his head. Wanting to stop talking about it, “So, us?” Kiyoomi changed topics. 

“Us,”  

“Are we still dating?” Kiyoomi asked, his voice small.

“I don’t cuddle everyone like this surprisingly. So, I’d like that, if you’d take me,” Atsumu said simply. Kiyoomi nodded with an affirmative hum, “Sick,” He said in a ‘cool guy’ voice. 

“Ugh nevermind, broken up with,” Kiyoomi said whilst snuggling deeper into Atsumu’s arms. 

Atsumu smiled smugly, “You could never resist me,” 

“Unfortunately,” 

“We can talk about relationship stuff later, boundaries and stuff… Sex stuff,” Atsumu said jokingly with a little wiggle.

Kiyoomi groaned, “Yuck, like I’d ever have sex with you,” 

“Ah,” He said with an exasperated sigh, “You sure are missing out. This hot piece of ass goes all ways! Kinky, vanilla, ropes, blindfolds… the whole nine yards, baby,” 

“I’m gonna need you to shut up before I vomit on you,” 

Atsumu laughed before leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, “I draw the line at vomit unfortunately,” 

“You’re revolting,” Kiyoomi hid his smile with a performative scowl. 

Despite everything that transpired in the past couple weeks, Kiyoomi felt lighter. In the past the thought of his teammates or anyone outside of the people who does drugs with him knew about his disorder or substance use issues he would’ve felt like the world was ending.  

Having Atsumu, who has a different outlook on it than Motoya does, listening to him talk about everything is something he didn’t know he needed. 

He navigated his life with people looking at his drug use in either two ways. The first being other drug users who more than half the time didn’t really care about his drug use since they were more focused on their fix. When they were focusing on him they were encouraging him to do what he wanted. At the time he didn’t know so it was useless really. 

The other way was how Motoya saw his drug use. A complete suicide mission. Something that needed to be fixed right away, there was no other way but sobriety. 

Between the two Kiyoomi didn’t know which he liked more. Motoya cared a lot, to the point that it seemed he didn’t care about how Kiyoomi actually felt. 

His fellow drug users to an extent didn’t care but also cared just the right amount to want what’s in his best interest. But not enough to help him figure out what he really wanted. 

It felt like Atsumu added a perfect mix of both. It was just the middle ground of what he needed. 

Atsumu wanted what was best for Kiyoomi. He was actively learning about ways to help him, allowing him to do things his way and figure out what he needed on his own time. He didn’t guilt trip Kiyoomi into getting sober or give unsolicited advice… He listened, more than anyone had before. He truly wanted to understand.

“I think we should talk about the elephant in the room,” Atsumu said after a while of quiet, “The fight. The overdose,” Kiyoomi shifted uncomfortably but didn’t say anything. 

“I’ll start then,” He mumbled, “I got insecure when I saw you go do your drugs. I never meant for it to come off as if I was calling you stupid for having the urge to do drugs, or whatever your reasoning was for needing to do them,” Kiyoomi pulled back a bit so he could see Atsumu’s face as he spoke. 

“I was scared too,” he continued, “when I first found out about your drug use I couldn’t stop thinking about you being a few doors down high on whatever. It was never a matter of me pushing you off only to save you at the last second if that's truly what you thin-”

“I don’t think that,” Kiyoomi interrupted, “most of the things I said during the argument I didn’t mean and I regret. When I get like that it’s like my brain shuts off and goes on autopilot trying to defend me. I didn’t mean most of it,” 

“Most of it,” Atsumu clarified. 

“Well, yeah. I had some points in there that weren’t completely disregardable. How I feel about being sober stands true. Also, you can’t get a perfect boyfriend who isn’t a fucked up mentally ill junkie,” He suppressed a grin as he tried quoting himself, “Something like that. Because you have me now. Also the fact that life isn’t fair. So, I had some points,”

Atsumu rolled his eyes, “So you don’t think I have a saviour complex?” he asked sort of timidly. 

Kiyoomi frowned, “No. Do you think you do?” Atsumu shrugged and shook his head, “You didn’t date me to fix me, did you?” He shook his head again, “Okay. I think I just thought no one would ever want to be with me unless they want to satisfy their own need for something. In this case I assumed you wanted to feel needed or useful,” 

“That was a quick psychoanalysis,” 

“I mean, I like to think I’m self aware to a certain degree. I just assumed for you though. I don’t make a habit of analyzing other people, that’s too much effort,” 

Atsumu chuckled, “Okay. So when a conflict like that happens what do you want me to do? When your brain goes into autopilot and starts saying things you might regret. Do you want me to try and reason with you? Stay quiet until you’ve calmed down a bit? What do you need?” 

Kiyoomi thought for a moment. He didn’t really know what he needed, he’s never really been one to have healthy communication so during conflict it would just blow up, “I think trying to reason with me would make it worse,” 

“Okay. So I’ll stay quiet, let you get whatever you need to say out and when you’ve calmed down we can talk about it after the strong feelings aren’t so high?” Atsumu suggested. 

Kiyoomi shrugged, “Sounds good in theory,”

“In theory?” 

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we can discuss a new technique. Trial and error,” 

“Okay. So, you and Akaashi found me,” Kiyoomi sighed, changing the topic again. 

“Yes. We did. We don't have to talk abou-”

“I want to get it all over with,” 

 Atsumu hesitated, “Okay… When I left your place, I had a panic attack,” He felt Kiyoomi tense. 

He rubbed circles into Kiyoomi’s side, telling him it was okay, “I called Akaashi because I’ve been confiding in him lately. I trust him. I got a hold of Motoya’s number and told him to get in touch with you.  

“When he told us you weren’t responding to him we went over with narcan. Akaashi gave you the injection. It was hard for me to do much. It was hard to see you like that,” 

Kiyoomi bunched Atsumu’s shirt in his fist, “I’m sorry you had to see that,” He whispered.  

“It’s better than me not seeing anything and you not being here,” he offered. Kiyoomi shrugged, “That’s about it. The paramedics came and took you away. 

“Akaashi knows basically everything from my point of view, I'll be honest with you. He’s been my non-licensed therapist. He’s educated me a bit on harm-reduction and mental health stuff. He’s been a really great support through everything,” 

Kiyoomi cringed thinking about what he must know about him, “I know, like, nothing about Akaashi other than he likes scratching Bokuto’s back in bed,” 

Atsumu gasped scandalously, “Omi! Naughty!” Kiyoomi scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“Well since he knows a lot about your mental health issues, he has OCD, which i’ve been learning a lot about through him! Very interesting disorder,” 

“Calling a disorder interesting sounds like it should be wrong,” Kiyoomi said offhandedly. 

Atsumu chuckled lightly, “You know what I mean. Everyone thought you had OCD but after learning about Akaashi it really shone a light on how intricate it truly is and how you can’t take people’s outward habits for face value,”  

“You’re cute, you know?” Kiyoomi said, barely audible.  

“Omi,” He whined, pulling him tighter to his chest.

 Kiyoomi drew little figure 8’s on Atsumu’s chest, “Akaashi wouldn’t say anything to Bokuto, right?” he seemed hesitant to ask, nervous to know the answer. 

Atsumu felt an uncomfortable drop in his chest. This whole time he was hoping Akaashi wouldn’t say anything to Bokuto. When he thinks about this demand he sees how weighty it could be to some degree. Especially since Bokuto would definitely be asking about what the whole situation was when Atsumu had the panic attack. 

Bokuto wasn’t dumb. The fact Atsumu had that panic attack and then Kiyoomi stopped showing up to volleyball was a red flag to anyone who had a brain. He saw the way Bokuto looked at Atsumu with concern whenever Kiyoomi was brought up at practice. He never said anything or asked about it though. It made him wonder if he knew, and if so, how much he knew. 

“Um… I’m,” Atsumu knew his hesitation on the question was already a bad start. He never thought he would have to tell Kiyoomi about Hinata and Bokuto knowing about his bipolar. He hoped he could slip by that bad judgement call and pretend it never happened. Clearly it was catching up on him. 

Should he come clean about it now? He had always told Kiyoomi to be honest about everything but now he was a hypocrite…

Kiyoomi’s finger slowed down the drawing and pulled back. He didn’t look too happy. 

“What does Bokuto know?” He was frowning as he sat back against the arm rest, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I mean. I dunno if Akaashi said anything to him. He might not’ve. But… He knows somethin’ happened… Um… When I called Akaashi during my panic attack he wasn’t answering so I called Bokuto to ask where he was. They both ended up coming,” Kiyoomi looked unimpressed. 

“I didn’t say anythin’ in front of Bo, I promise. He was out of the room when I told Akaashi everything. The fact is, I had a panic attack and then you stopped showing up to volleyball. I’m sure he might think something happened, even if Akaashi didn’t say anything,” 

“You told everyone I had the flu. That’s not correlated at all to a panic attack,” Kiyoomi pointed out. 

“Right…” Atsumu searched his brain for excuses.

“You’re not telling me something. Be straight with me, Atsumu. Where’s the honesty now, huh?” Kiyoomi couldn’t help but spit. 

Atsumu was startled but sighed, “Okay. You’re right,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I fucked up a while ago. When we first got together. I went through your stuff and found out about your bipolar before you told me. Well, Bokuto, Hinata, Akaashi and I…” 

Kiyoomi scoffed out a laugh of disbelief and turned his head away from Atsumu. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just shook his head with an expression that had Atsumu on edge. 

“Alright. Great," was all Kiyoomi said before he pushed himself off the couch. 

“Wait, Omi,” Atsumu went to grab onto his hand only for Kiyoomi to pull it away before he was able to.

“Don’t touch me right now. I don’t know why I keep trying. This is fucking stupid,” 

“Kiyoomi, it was a long time ago. I wouldn’t do that now! I felt horrible after I told them. I wish I could take it back. I know it was none of their business,” he stressed. He needed to let Kiyoomi know it was a mistake, he regretted it. 

“I have been nothing but honest with you. Are you even thinking about the things you say? You preach about honesty while holding this from me? This isn’t your secret to share! Okay, it got out, and you’re aware of it, never mind you fucking shared it. You tell me about it. It’s my right to know who knows shit about me! God, It’s basic human decency, man,” 

Atsumu looked up at Kiyoomi who started pacing slightly around the room, “Omi,” he said quietly.

“Were you planning on just sitting on this? Did you think I was never going to find out? You think I’m a fucking idiot? Honestly,” He chuckled dryly, “I probably am. Being so naive as to letting someone in again. I don’t know why I even try. 

“At least with my exes they tell me shit as it is. I know when my ass is about to get beat. I know that they think I'm a pathetic waste of space. I know when they go through my shit because they don’t put it all back neatly as if no one breathed on it… They leave it as if a tornado ripped through. They make a mess so I don’t have to be left ruminating over things for days. So I don’t have unanswered questions that I don’t know if I’ll ever get answers to!

“That’s all I’m getting from you. You make me question everything! I don’t even know what’s real anymore. You make me feel like an idiot!” He breathed heavily trying to catch his breath. 

He stopped in his tracks and leaned against a wall, his head facing the ground, “Yell back at me. Defend yourself,” he was much quieter than before. He knew this request was pointless. Their previous conversation from only minutes ago flashed back into his mind as soon as his rant ended. 

Atsumu frowned, “I’m not going to do that. Get your anger out before we talk it through. I'll let you. I’m not going to take anything you say in the heat of the moment too seriously though. I’ll bring it up once you’ve cooled off,” 

Kiyoomi groaned and pressed his palms into his eyes, “I suck at this,” He slid down the wall, his knees bent in front of his chest. 

Atsumu stood up and walked towards him hesitantly. He sat down cross legged in front of him, “Can I touch you?” Kiyoomi thought for a second before shrugging. Atsumu lightly grabbed both his ankles and pulled his feet closer so they were tucked under his shins. 

“So,” he rubbed circles on Kiyoomi’s calves, “I fucked up. Yer rightfully mad at me. Anything I say won’t change what I did or what others know... I understand that yer hurt and ya feel like I betrayed yer trust, ‘cause I did. It was wrong of me. You’re allowed to feel however you feel. 

“We were so new and I was scared to fuck it up so quickly. I didn’t want to lose my chance. I thought maybe I could pretend nothing happened but I see it was stupid of me. I understand that now.... I’m sorry I didn’t tell ya sooner. You’re right, it was yer right t’know and I never should’ve kept it from ya,” 

Kiyoomi’s eyes were rimmed with tears. He buried his face in his arms in an attempt to hide them. Atsumu reached up and combed a hand through his hair, it was tangled slightly and his fingers got stuck but Kiyoomi didn’t seem to mind. 

“Can you look at me?” He asked softly. Kiyoomi inhaled deeply and lifted his head. He was supporting a pout which Atsumu wanted to wipe away as soon as possible, “can you say something?” 

Kiyoomi’s gaze drifted downwards, “It’s hard trusting people,” 

“Everything you’ve been through you never deserved. No one should’ve laid a hand on ya, said those things... Your property should be off limits to anyone you don’t give permission to. You deserve these basic rights and the fact that I fucked it up and made it that much harder for you to trust me by breaking one of them breaks my heart,” 

Kiyoomi shook his head slightly and rested his head on the side of his arm, looking up at Atsumu, “I just wish it were easier,” 

“One day. But it won’t happen overnight, Omi,” he murmured. Atsumu stood up, holding his hands out to Kiyoomi. He intertwined their hands as he was hoisted up.

Chapter Text

When Monday practice rolled around Kiyoomi got up with Atsumu and asked him to accompany him to his own apartment to gather his workout clothes. He felt like he was able to participate today, physically he was much better. Mentally he could be better but he didn’t think there was going to be much more of an improvement. 

When they entered his apartment, however, Kiyoomi froze in the doorframe. 

He felt as if his legs couldn’t move, his heart rate picked up and it suddenly felt like he was running for three miles. He took a breath of air and exhaled, ignoring the look Atsumu gave him as he was already three paces in the apartment. 

Half of him was screaming to go to the bathroom, go get his pills. The other half of him was telling him to get what he was here for, to stay on track. 

“Atsumu,” his voice wavered. The blonde looked at him alarmed, “I can’t be here right now. I need to go,” He turned on his heels and left before the man could respond. 

He walked fast towards the elevator, Atsumu wasn’t following him. When he got to the ground floor he jogged out the door and headed straight to the gym. His ears were ringing, hands clenching and unclenching, nails digging into his palms. 

His chest felt constricted to the point where he was basically wheezing by the time he got to the doors of the gymnasium. 

He burst into the gym and made his way to the changing room, stripping off his jacket as soon as he could. It was zipped up too high on his neck, he felt as if he was suffocating. A slight wave of nausea ran through him but he ignored it. 

“Sakusa,” 

“Fuck!” He jumped, He felt his soul leave his body as the voice rang through the room. He didn’t even realize the others in the changing room as he stomped to his locker. 

Meian’s eyes were wide in concern from the reaction as he put his hands up in surrender, “Didn’t mean to scare you, man,” Kiyoomi placed both hands in front of his face and exhaled before wiping them away and apologizing for his knee jerk reaction, “No worries, just making sure you’re all good?” 

He shrugged and looked around at the empty bench where his gym bag would normally be and sighed. 

He sat down, thinking about how far away Atsumu might be, “I’m better. Not one hundred percent. Atsumu has my bag,” 

“How noble of him,” Inunaki snickered from his locker. Kiyoomi sent him a piercing glare. 

“He’s on his way,” He mumbled.

Meian nodded slowly, “Take it easy man, no stress,” 

Moments later as Kiyoomi was tracing the tiles of the floor with the toes of his shoes Hinata and Bokuto sauntered into the changing room, “Sakusa! You’re back!” Hinata said happily. Kiyoomi went ridgid at the sight of them. He felt so exposed and vulnerable. “How’re you feeling?” Hinata asked, standing a few feet away from him. 

Bokuto was behind him, his eyes inquisitive. Kiyoomi couldn’t help but think he knew more than just the bipolar. Atsumu hadn’t mentioned anything about the drugs, but Akaashi knew about them… 

Kiyoomi looked up and nodded slowly, “Better,” He just wanted Atsumu to get here so he could change and get this practice over with. He wanted to go back to Atsumu’s apartment and lie in bed for the rest of the day. Maybe he could just slip out now and say he isn’t feeling as good as he originally thought… 

Just as he was thinking of ways to escape, Atsumu walked into the changing room with two gym bags and a relaxed look on his face. How did he manage to always look so calm and collected?

“Omi,” He sang plopping down the gym bag next to him, “Brought ya a gift,” 

Kiyoomi unzipped it wordlessly and grabbed his clothes. Not feeling like changing in front of everyone, he made his way to the stall and changed alone in there. 

He heard his teammates quietly talk as soon as he was gone and couldn’t help but roll his eyes. It was obvious they were talking about him. They were always so boisterous so when he left and they went quiet they weren’t being subtle. 

Atsumu was still there though so he didn’t really care what they were talking about, he trusted Atsumu would defend him… Right? 

Or maybe Atsumu actually talked behind his back when he couldn’t hear… No… Now was not the time for these thoughts. He had to get this damn practice over with. 

As soon as he emerged from the stall the talking switched pace and got louder again. Kiyoomi felt the frown on his face deepening. He walked over to Atsumu who was chatting to Barnes about some spikes they wanted to try out today. 

“Hey Sakusa,” Oliver greeted with a head nod. Atsumu turned around, a smile taking over his face at the sight of Kiyoomi. 

“Hi,” he replied simply.

“It’s nice to see you in your workout stuff again,” Atsumu said happily, “very sexy,” He whispered only for Kiyoomi to hear. 

“Yuck,” Kiyoomi said in faux disgust, even though he secretly loved the stupid quips Atsumu threw at him. 

He sat down to tie his shoes before he set out on the court for the first time in what felt like forever. 

Practice was worse than Kiyoomi thought it was going to be. The movements were too sudden, jumps were too nauseating. He thought he was going to vomit at any second in the middle of the court. 

Cw: vomiting. To skip go to next bolded sentence 

Luckily he was able to hold it down until after the practice and he made it to the toilet. Atsumu followed him as he jogged away. 

“Omi, are you-” His voice of concern was cut off by the sound of breakfast being regurgitated into a ceramic toilet bowl, “Omi…” Atsumu pushed open the stall door and winced at the sight of Kiyoomi leaning over the toilet. 

He reached over and pulled back the hair falling in front of his eyes only for his hands to be slapped away. 

“I’m fine, please go away,” Kiyoomi said, no, begged. 

Atsumu hesitated, “I’m sitting outside the door here. I’ll be right here,” He backed out of the stall and closed the door softly. 

He winced as another round of puke hit the water and he heard Kiyoomi sniffling and spitting. 

He tried to ignore the whimpers and heavy breathing because it hurt his heart too much to imagine.

    Minutes later the toilet flushed and the stall opened. Atsumu sat up to go hug him or comfort him in some way but Kiyoomi put his hands up in front of him as if to say not to touch him, not to come near him, so he kept his distance. 

He washed his hands thoroughly. Rinsed his mouth out, washed his hands again and then splashed his face with water. 

Atsumu watched from the sidelines, he felt useless.

They made their way to the main changing room area where the rest of the team were changing and talking quietly amongst themselves. 

They must’ve known something happened. They probably just thought it was Kiyoomi’s flu, or a nose bleed situation again. Either way, it didn’t matter since they weren’t going to know the truth. Unless they already did and Atsumu was just lying to him. He shook his head, Kiyoomi had to get that out of his brain before it consumed him. 

They changed fairly quickly and were the firsts to leave. Neither of them were showering at the gym today, deciding they wanted to get home as soon as they could. The team said their goodbyes and wished Kiyoomi to feel better. 

“We gonna talk ‘bout this mornin’?” Atsumu asked whilst running a towel through his hair. They both finished taking their showers, Kiyoomi basically dove in as soon as they got into the apartment. 

Kiyoomi was lying on the couch, curled up in a blanket, his eyes were shut but he was far from asleep, “Do we have to?” he whined.

“Well… No, but it might help,” He sat where Kiyoomi’s feet were, “I wanna know where yer heads at. I want to know if the support you need is to help ya get sober or somethin’ else. Because I truly dunno. I don’t know what ya need from me. I think it might help if you figured it out also. Having a plan is important,”

Kiyoomi wondered when Atsumu got so emotionally attuned. Did his own bullshit make him so? Maybe he’s been so self absorbed that he didn’t even know that Atsumu has always been this way. 

Either way, he didn’t know what to say. His explanation for this morning was easy, he knew why he acted the way he did, why he ran… but his mind was telling him to keep it to himself. To stop showing his vulnerability. Atsumu knew enough. Why should he give him more ammo?

On one hand his trust felt violated. Kiyoomi didn’t know what to think, or how to proceed. All he could think of was the fact that Atsumu told three people of his disorder and one person about his drug use. This was the confirmed knowledge. He was aware that Akaashi knew basically everything, but the fact he didn’t know exactly what was said or how it was said was unsettling. 

Does Akaashi know about his shitty past? Would Atsumu share his whole story to someone without asking him if it was okay? He couldn’t help but want a transcript of everything that was said. He needed to be in control of what people knew. It all felt so chaotic and he hated it. 

“What’re ya thinkin’ ‘bout?”

“Huh?” Kiyoomi swivelled his head over to Atsumu who looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yer zonin’ out,” 

“Oh. Sorry,” He muttered, “I don- I…” He sighed and gave up on trying to say anything. He sat back and closed his eyes. 

Atsumu resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If he was being honest, he’s been using a lot of his patience lately. He wanted to just shake the man and get everything he needed out of him as if it were an eight ball, but he knew he couldn’t. 

Atsumu hasn’t always been the most patient person. He wanted things when he asked for them and when he didn’t get them he would find a way. When it came to people it was different. He would stick his nose where it didn’t belong and push until someone cracked. 

He knew he couldn’t do that with Kiyoomi though. He was scared to know what would happen if he pushed too hard. When Kiyoomi was a friend and teammate on the Black Jackals they never had such interpersonal conflicts. They bantered and joked, pushed each other’s buttons but nothing was this deep. 

Dating him was a whole new level he hadn’t prepared himself to unlock if he was honest. He was thrown into the deep end. He was overly confident and disregarded picking up weapons and armour. Now he had to fight the boss with what he had. 

It was unfair of him to be upset over Kiyoomi not opening up. He broke his trust and Kiyoomi already had trust issues to begin with. He deserved to suffer the consequences. But these consequences also had repercussions on Kiyoomi’s well being. He couldn’t help the man if he didn’t tell him what he needed from him. They would be stuck here forever. 

“Can you at least tell me what’s holding you back from telling me? This still about Akaashi and them?” Atsumu ran a hand up and down Kiyoomi’s calf.

Kiyoomi breathed in deeply, hating how just the mention of the situation shot a flash of anger through his body. He refrained from saying anything for several seconds as he knew anything he said would come out shaky or aggressive. 

“Yes. It is,” He exhaled. His eyes were still closed. Speaking made the anger rise again, begging to be let out, he had to push it down, “I can’t stop thinking about it,” His voice was uneasy. 

“Kay. What do you want me to do?” 

“Wha-” Kiyoomi stopped himself from the escalation of the sentence and rubbed his eyes, “I-”

“Do you need a second?” Atsumu asked genuinely, there was no snarky tone attached. 

“Fuck,” Kiyoomi groaned, throwing his head back, “I don’t know why I’m getting so angry,” 

“It’s okay to be angr-”

“Shut up for a second,” Kiyoomi held up his hand. He didn’t need the cheesy spiel on how emotions were okay and blah blah blah. After a few grounding breaths he finally felt like the sizzling rage beneath was calming down, “Sorry. I hate when people tell me it’s okay to be angry. Anger is a stupid emotion,” 

“Why do you think that?” 

“It’s usually secondary. A defence for whatever we truly feel,” 

“How do you truly feel then?” 

Kiyoomi scoffed, “I walked into that one, didn’t I?” 

Atsumu chuckled, “Kind of, yeah,” 

Kiyoomi looked around the apartment and sighed, “Hurt, confused, out of control… sad, regretful,” 

“That’s a lot of uncomfortable feelings,” 

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes half heartedly. The phrase reminded him of something his old therapists would say, “Doesn’t really matter though,” Before he could continue, Atsumu cut him off. 

“Why do you say that? Why don’t you think your feelings matter? Kiyoomi…” He ran a hand over his face in frustration, “Your feelings matter the most at this moment. It’s what this whole situation is about. I understand it’s hard to talk about, but the hard things are the most important things to talk about,” 

“Oh my god,” Kiyoomi groaned, much like a dramatic teen in a coming of age movie would, “I’m tired of talking about my feelings,” 

Atsumu couldn’t help but chuckle once despite his own growing frustration, “Kiyoomi. Listen,” he stopped smiling and leaned back, “When we first started this, you said you weren’t good at this. I said it was okay, but only because we were going to work on it. This is exactly the conflict where we work on it. But you have to cooperate,” 

“Are you calling me uncooperative for feeling like I can't trust you at the moment?” It felt like a knife to his chest hearing it outloud. Atsumu stayed quiet as Kiyoomi’s eyes pierced through him. 

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” Atsumu whispered with a shrug, not trusting his voice all that much. 

“‘Tsumu…”

“Just tell me how it is,” he shrugged, “If yer mad at me, I understand. If you don’t trust me, okay. Tell me what I can do for ya. What do you need from me so we can both be happy?” His voice was desperate, pleading for Kiyoomi to work with him so they could make things work. He really wanted to make things work. 

“I don’t want you to look at me though,” Kiyoomi murmured. Atsumu nodded slowly and looked away with his eyes closed. Kiyoomi sighed before speaking, “I feel… exposed. Vulnerable. And I hate it… It makes me feel gross and I feel so out of control of everything. I never liked telling people about my diagnosis. When people know about it they act differently… 

“When my parents found out they acted as if I was a completely different person. I wasn’t… When I would show any kind of emotion they would ask if my meds were working or if I was in some episode… As if I couldn’t have any kind of emotions without it being tied to my bipolar. 

“When my ex found out… Well, I remember mentioning it to you before, but he used it as a weapon. Got me thrown into the hospital… He tried gaslighting me into thinking that I was manic whenever I tried sticking up for myself… 

“I never wanted people to know. I feel so ashamed of it. Ashamed of how I get so low that I crave the high. Even when the high just creates regret and embarrassment… Sometimes it’s great, but most of the time the guilt consumes me when I come down. And the come down is hard… The higher the high the harder the fall, afterall. 

“So yes. It’s hard for me to look at you and feel like everything is fine when my whole life I’ve been fighting my own, stupid demons about this diagnosis. 

“If I was to ever tell the team about it, I wanted to tell them. I wanted to have that control, but now it’s gone… And… I don’t know who knows what and it scares me… It makes my skin crawl and I feel dirty. And that’s only about the bipolar,” 

Kiyoomi took a shaky breath and fisted the blanket beneath his hands. He was clammy and shaky. Despite saying how he didn’t want to be so vulnerable he sure shared quite a bit. Atsumu opened his eyes and the wretched look on his face almost made Kiyoomi feel bad. 

“I don’t know what I need. I don’t know how I can move past this right now. I just need a second to sort out my thoughts…” 

“What if we ask?” 

“What?” 

“What if we ask the guys what they know? They can tell you, so you can feel a bit more control in the sense of who knows what?” He suggested wearily. Kiyoomi thought for a second. Maybe it wasn’t the worst idea… That would mean having to acknowledge it though and Kiyoomi didn’t like the thought of that. 

“Maybe…” He muttered.  

“We could start with Akaashi. He knows the most. We can call him up and get him to recount everything. He’s not someone to hold back,” 

“I barely talk to him, Atsu… It’s going to be so awkward… Him telling me personal things about myself to my face…” Kiyoomi cringed thinking about the interaction. He did like Akaashi. They met a couple times but not enough to consider themselves friends or anything of the sort. He was just his colleague's fiance. 

“It was an option to explore. We don’t have to do it if ya don’t wanna. Just thought it might be helpful to get the water from the source,” Atsumu said with a shrug. 

Kiyoomi frowned, “Aren’t you the source?” 

Atsumu looked up in thought, “Um, maybe? I could try tellin’ ya what I said to him but my mind is muddled, man. Anyway, If you want me to send out a chat to our group chat about interrogations I can definitely do that,” 

“What group chat? We don’t have one with Akaashi do we? Have I got it muted?” Kiyoomi pulled out his phone in confusion. 

“Oh. Oh shit,” Atsumu whipped out his phone and pulled up the ‘Secret Sakusa Support Squad’ group chat. He scrolled up to the beginning and started scanning the texts. He wanted to make sure they were all pretty tame before he even entertained the thought of sharing them with Kiyoomi. 

The texts went up pretty far. It spans from before Akaashi was added to the group, when the three of them were still talking about some of Kiyoomi’s behaviours. Some texts in retrospect were cringy looking back on, especially seeing his own pining for the man but he deemed them fine for Kiyoomi to see. 

“So… Um. Hinata, Bokuto and I started a group chat a while ago. From the name of the group I’m sure you can tell why yer not in it. After a while we asked Akaashi something and ended up addin’ him in the chat then, yeah… You can look through some of the chat if ya want. It’s about you…” 

Kiyoomi frowned and looked very uncomfortable with the concept of people having a whole group chat centred around talking behind his back. The more Atsumu thought about it, the more he realized how messed up it was. 

Kiyoomi hesitantly took the phone from his hand and started scrolling through the messages. Atsumu was reading over his shoulder nervously, eyes flickering from the screen to his face trying to gauge his reaction. He was stoic. 

When he reached the part where Atsumu found his pills Kiyoomi’s eyebrows twitched. 

“‘Loaded on pills’,” Kiyoomi quoted under his breath. Atsumu’s stomach turned uncomfortably, “Was this the day I told you about my bipolar?” Kiyoomi glared at the screen. 

“Yeah, actually,” 

“When did Akaashi find out about my drugs then?” Kiyoomi said, scrolling lazily through the rest of the chat. 

“Same night. I called ‘im to talk about our talk. Then I told him about the whole drug test thing and asked if yer meds would cause false positives, because I saw other pills…”

“Oh, great,” He said, tossing the phone on Atsumu’s lap and crossing his arms. 

“Omi. Can you blame me fer bein’ concerned? You came to me, distressed over possibly failing a drug test… Then I found several different pills in your bathroom… I sent Akaashi a picture of the pills and he identified the xanax, adderall ‘n oxy. 

“He brought me, Sho and Bo naloxone kits and taught us how ta use ‘em. He told them he was learning about the opioid crisis and that we should know how to use ‘em since we go ta high risk places,” 

“That’s why Hinata had that fucking kit in the changing room,” Kiyoomi recalled, closing his eyes in slight annoyance. 

“Yeah…” 

Kiyoomi just looked at Atsumu and nodded, his facial expression clearly unimpressed. Atsumu nervously tapped his fingers against his own thigh. 

“I-”

“Well-”

They both said at the same time. Atsumu cleared his throat and gestured to Kiyoomi to speak. 

“Well. I don’t feel comfortable talking about this morning with you right now. Nor do I feel comfortable being here right now,” 

Atsumu frowned, “Is there something I can do to help you be more comfortable?” 

Kiyoomi thought for a second, “Just some space for the moment,” he whispered. 

Atsumu nodded lightly and looked up at the ceiling, “Do you not feel comfortable around me or in this apartment? If you want to stay here you can. I can probably stay with Sho if that’s easier for ya. If you don’t want to go back to yers I don’t want you to either. If ya don’t feel comfy staying with other people, I won’t make ya go through that,” 

“I don’t want to kick you out of your apartment Atsu…” Kiyoomi said softly. The nickname loosened Atsumu’s tight chest. 

“What if I said I’ve been wanting to go have a sleepover with the boys anyway?” 

Kiyoomi shook his head, “You… can stay in my apartment if you want…” Kiyoomi said nervously. 

“Are ya sure? I don’t wanna-”

“Atsu, I wouldn’t have offered If I wasn’t sure. It’s probably a little messy…” 

Atsumu shrugged, not caring about a little mess. He packed some of his things and allowed Kiyoomi to walk him to the apartment door. Kiyoomi looked at the door nervously, “I don’t want to go in,” He whispered as they got closer. 

Atsumu turned back with a frown, “You don’t have to,” 

Kiyoomi fiddled with his hoodie string, “You won’t judge me for anything you might see right?” 

“Babe, I’m not going to be going through your stuff. I’ve learnt my lesson,” Atsumu leaned on the wall next to the apartment door and held out his hands for Kiyoomi to hold. He smirked a little bit, “Why? You got some weird sex toys in there or something I should be worried about?” Kiyoomi rolled his eyes and tried to pull his hands away. Atsumu didn’t let his grip falter. 

“You’re annoying. You know what I mean,” his voice got quieter as he continued, “The drugs and stuff… I don’t think I ever put them away,” 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, okay? Just go back to my place and rest. Will you be okay?” Atsumu searched his eyes for any look of hesitation. 

Kiyoomi nodded, “I’m okay, Atsu. Thank you… For understanding… Not getting mad…” 

“Kiyoomi. You’re the one allowing me to understand. I wouldn’t be able to if you kept it all to yourself. Thank yourself, if anyone. I’m doing the bare minimum. I’m giving you what you need and what you ask for… Take as much space and time as you need, just know i’ll be here for when you’re ready,” 

Several days passed with their apartment switch arrangement. Kiyoomi stayed home from practice for another two days after vomiting the last time.

He decided to go on a run outside to at least get out and do something. He felt fine enough to get up and be productive but when he was jostled too much is when his body would trigger some sickness response which was highly unwelcome and unpleasant. 

When Kiyoomi was finally able to get back to regularly scheduled practices the team welcomed him back with rowdy, happy cheers. Coach made him go easy, it looked as if he was suspicious of something more going on but he hadn't made any effort in addressing anything so Atsumu and Kiyoomi ignored it.

During the time they spent apart Atsumu did a lot of thinking. Some things weren't the best but others were interesting realizations. One of which was how Atsumu was surprised with how okay he felt with Kiyoomi staying in his apartment with him for so long. 

Atsumu loved having people around, he loved other people's company. 

Though he had never had never lived in such close quarters with someone who wasn’t his brother for more than four consecutive days. Some old partners he had would stay for a couple days but he would get too antsy and need them out of his space. There was something that just felt different with Kiyoomi. 

He was nervous that Kiyoomi’s situation might make him want to rush him out even more as bad as it sounds. To be fair, Atsumu was never confident in his abilities at being a caregiver. When Kiyoomi came home from the hospital Atsumu panicked a bit despite inviting him in and encouraging him to stay. 

He didn’t know if he was going to be able to make things comfortable enough for Kiyoomi to get better. And if he was honest he didn’t know if he was going to get annoyed by having someone who was sick in his bed, and he knows he kind of sounds like a dick for thinking that about his own boyfriend but it was honest…

He’s happy to say after so long of Kiyoomi basically living in his place whilst sick, his worries have been squashed. He didn’t know what exactly that meant, did it mean he loved Kiyoomi? Or maybe he truly did have a saviour complex and it was just being easily fed with everything that was happening. 

When they saw each other next, Atsumu smiled widely at Kiyoomi only to get a weak smile back in return. Atsumu squashed down his worries and chalked it up to the fact they had conditioning today, he knew how much Kiyoomi hated conditioning. 

In the change room after they were done for the day Kiyoomi was sitting on the bench wiping sweat from his forehead looking at the tiles on the ground in deep thought. Atsumu sat down next to him, “Hey, how you doin’? You good on groceries?” 

Kiyoomi looked over to him slowly and shrugged, “Yeah,” 

Atsumu nodded awkwardly, pretending not to take the dry answer personally, “Cool…” 

“You can come back if you want,” Kiyoomi said before standing up and getting his clothes to start changing. 

Atsumu felt like cold water was poured over top of him. That was unexpected. He was getting cold answers all day, the last thing he thought he was going to hear was an invitation back to his apartment, “You sure?” He stood up to face the taller man. 

Kiyoomi raised his eyebrows. He looked tired, eyes as if they wanted to close and stay shut at any given time, face too lazy to keep muscles taut enough for smiles or non-stoic/melancholic expressions. Atsumu wanted to grab his face and kiss away the sadness. 

“Wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t sure,” he said monotonously. Atsumu nodded a couple times and started getting ready to go home. He was excited to go back to his own apartment. 

He wasn’t expecting his apartment to be in the shape it was when he arrived if he was honest. It wasn’t too bad but it wasn’t as he left it, for sure. There were take out bags on counters, some on the floor. A garbage bag tied up near the door, not taken out for a reason Atsumu couldn’t name. Socks were thrown randomly throughout the apartment, a pile of clothes on the floor and clean clothes still in the dryer that Kiyoomi seemed to have just been taking out as needed. 

When they walked in the door Kiyoomi froze as if he was surprised by the apartment as well. Atsumu looked around and tried not to say anything or make a face that would indicate any judgemental thoughts. 

“I didn’t think it was this bad,” Kiyoomi said with a light, awkward chuckle. 

“What was?” He asked innocently. 

“I got a little lazy when you were gone but I thought I was a little cleaner than this. I’m so sorry, this is embarrassing,” Kiyoomi covered his face with one of his hands as his ears and cheeks started to warm up. 

Atsumu pulled his hand away making sure he made eye contact with the man to drive his point across, “It's okay,” he reassured, “It’s a little mess. Nothing we can’t clean,” 

Kiyoomi gnawed on his lip and nodded. Atsumu made his way to the sink where extra garbage bags were kept and pulled one out. He opened it up triumphantly and tossed the first piece of trash in before grinning at Kiyoomi. 

Kiyoomi didn’t make a move to clean up so Atsumu approached him, “It’ll be done faster if we work together,” 

Still seeing his hesitation, Atsumu caressed the side of his face as he looked away, “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I also love this take out place,” he said softly to lighten the mood. 

Kiyoomi’s mouth twitched, an attempt not to smile. Atsumu felt a wave of fondness for the man rush over him. He tugged on Kiyoomi’s hand bringing him to where the mess was and held the garbage bag open, “Let’s do this,” 

After they cleaned the apartment while listening to some random playlist Atsumu decided to put on, they decided to make dinner so Kiyoomi didn't have to eat take out like he seemed to be living off of. 

They’ve been keeping their conversations light, Atsumu talking about some stuff he got up to when Kiyoomi wasn’t with him. He talked about Osamu and how they finally talked substantially for the first time in a while and what his twin has been up to. 

When they sat down to eat, Atsumu finally brought it up, “So, why today?” Kiyoomi made a questioning hum, “Why did you decide today you wanted me to come back?” He expanded. 

“Oh,” He shrugged, poking the food around with his utensils, “I missed you, I guess. I just want to talk it out so we can get over this all,” 

Atsumu nodded thoughtfully, “I like the sound of that. We can do that,”

Kiyoomi inhaled anxiously, “I… Don’t like how you handled the knowledge of finding out those things about me but in a way I understand. I know you like talking to other people to process things. 

“I didn’t understand at first because we’re different in that way, you need to talk it through with people whereas I just sit on it and keep it to myself. It’s upsetting that you didn’t tell me what you did but after thinking about it for so long I think I understand better,” 

Atsumu nodded, “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve got a big mouth. I like talking about things,” he chuckled, “You’ve heard me talk about Sho’s relationship problems and what he’s told me… I don't think about the consequences if I talk about it because I trust the people I tell them to. 

“From now on though, I think I need to think about the content that would be okay to share and not okay to share. Your personal stuff isn’t anyone’s business even if it affects me, they don’t need to know so many details,” 

Kiyoomi nodded slowly, “What if you got a therapist?” 

Atsumu’s eyebrows shot up, and he laughed a bit, “A therapist?” Kiyoomi frowned at the reaction, “Sorry. Why… Why do you think a therapist would help me? It’s not like I need… I dunno, advice or anything,” 

“Someone neutral to listen to everything you have to say without a filter. Someone without a connection to either of us… They could help you look at it in a way you might not have thought to look at a scenario before. If something comes up and you find it difficult to cope with, they could provide insight or help you find skills to cope or find resolutions…” Kiyoomi seemed embarrassed listing off all the reasons why Atsumu should consider seeing a therapist. 

“I’ve never thought about seeing one,” 

“It might be helpful. Especially since you’re dating me. I have a lot of problems, I know it might be hard to deal with and I don’t want you to suffer them without any support system,” 

Atsumu felt his heart wring out with that statement. Maybe he should look into it, Kiyoomi seems to be pretty adamant about it… He might be onto something.  

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” 

“Thank you,” Kiyoomi whispered. He continued eating his food quietly, allowing Atsumu to change the topic to something lighter for the time being. 

They decided to make a boxed batch of brownies that Atsumu bought months ago but were forgotten about at the back of the cupboard. 

“So I wanna explain why I acted the way I did before practice and just, why I don’t wanna go near my place,” Kiyoomi sighed as he watched Atsumu whisk the batter in the bowl. 

“Sure,” Atsumu nodded, looking up at him to let him know he was paying attention. 

Kiyoomi picked at his nails a bit, “I got anxious being at my apartment. I was scared that I was going to go straight to the bathroom and… disappoint you. Disappoint Motoya. 

“It felt like my body was begging me to… like any move I would make, a twitch of a finger would cause me to go towards the cabinets. It felt like I had no control over my own body. 

“It’s hard to say I want to get sober. My mind keeps trying to offer myself ultimatums…

“I think I want to get to a point where I can confidently say ‘I want to get sober’.  Or maybe just say ‘I don’t want to live like this anymore’. But that one sounds a little too dark…”

Kiyoomi doesn’t know when he came to this conclusion of sobriety. It may have been when he saw the look on Motoya’s face, or maybe how sombre Atsumu’s eyes were at the hospital. 

To Kiyoomi the words people said to him regarding his drug use were easily disregarded. He knew how easy it was to say shit and not mean it. He does it all the time. It’s all in the body language. So when he saw Atsumu, when he saw Motoya’s expression… Their words had a small impact but the kicker was all in what they didn’t say. 

 Motoya begged for him to get sober, but his words just made him defensive. Atsumu never begged, but Kiyoomi knew it was what he wanted for him. The passive tactic Atsumu used, perhaps unknowingly, may have been the push he needed to start his journey. 

He didn’t need the constant nagging. It just added stress to his life, causing him the need to numb more to ignore the guilt..

Atsumu has been a solid presence, despite his trust feeling a bit rocky at the moment. He was willing to accommodate Kiyoomi and learn how to help despite not fully agreeing with his choices. He gave him room and didn’t push him to sobriety. In a way it made him want to get sober for him. So he could show Atsumu he could be a better boyfriend, that he could be a better version of himself. 

At the end of the day he knew that if he commits to sobriety he needs to find different, personal reasons. He can’t solely quit for others sake because if something goes wrong with those interpersonal relationships, it would only give him a reason to relapse. Realistically it wouldn’t be sustainable, he needs to be sober for himself. Atsumu just helped him realize what he wanted. 

“Alright… First off, we need ta figure out a way to getcha into your apartment without runnin’. The drugs being there are part of the problem, yeah? So… We get rid of them?” The suggestion made Kiyoomi’s eyes cloud with fear. 

“No. No, we can’t just- there’s-” his breathing quickened. 

Atsumu held out his hands and placed them on Kiyoomi’s upper arms, “Okay, It’s fine. It was just a suggestion, yeah? 

“We’re just talking right now, we don’t have to do anything you don't feel comfortable with yet. Getting sober will be extremely uncomfortable, as I’m sure yer aware but whatever I can do to make it more manageable for ya I’ll do my best,” 

Kiyoomi seemed to have calmed down a bit and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms, “You’re not supposed to be nice about this,” He pouted. 

“You want me to be an asshole or something?” Atsumu scoffed. He started pouring the batter into the pan only for Kiyoomi to reach out and stop the pouring early. 

“Atsumu,” He whined, “You didn’t grease it,” Atsumu looked down at the layer of batter already covering the bottom of the pan. He smiled bashfully before greasing the sides and hoping for the best. 

“Anyway, back to the plan. We weren’t done. Maybe we don’t throw it all away but we get rid of some? The stuff you don’t use often, and we keep a couple pills for some reassurance. 

“I remember when my gramps was quittin’ smoking he would always keep a pack on him, he wouldn’t smoke em but knowing he had them but him at ease,” Kiyoomi shifted uncomfortably. 

“Maybe for now I keep them hidden? That way even if ya wanted to go straight for ‘em you wouldn’t be able to find any?” 

“Maybe we do a mix of both…? God saying that made my stomach drop,” Kiyoomi said with a frown before reaching up to rub his chest.

Atsumu felt a rush of relief. Kiyoomi was now actively participating in making a plan for getting sober. It made him happy. 

“Anything you want. We can go and sort through it all, choose what to get rid of, what to keep,” 

“I want to keep some oxy, xanax, adderall, and weed for sure,” He said firmly. There was no room for argument, “but there’s so many other things… The meth…” He whispered, barely audible as he stared at the ground in thought. 

“I’ll deal with it, alright?” He muttered as he placed the pan of brownie batter in the oven. 

“What are you going to do with crystal meth, Atsumu?” That was a fair point. 

“I’ll figure it out when I get to it, okay? I’m not gonna sell it or nothin’, and i’m not gonna use it… How do you even use the crystals? Eat it? Wouldn’t that hurt your teeth,” 

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, having a boyfriend who was clueless about drugs was new. In his past relationships he was usually the less educated one when it came to drugs. All his exes were drug dealers at some point in their lives, whilst they were dating or before. They were all very knowledgeable about their product or about using.

“Many ways, shoot it, smoke it, snort it, you can probably eat it if you want but I doubt it tastes any good. Different drugs metabolize differently depending on how you consume them so some ways aren’t worth it anyway,” Kiyoomi cringed, “smoking is my favourite for meth. With a little pipe,” He mimicked heating a pipe, which Atsumu inappropriately thought was cute considering the context. 

They made a plan to clean out  the drugs from Kiyoomi’s apartment in a few days. They were banking on his mental withdrawals to calm down a bit so it would be a bit easier for him to handle being back in his place. Especially having to be around all the drugs and sorting through them. 

Kiyoomi was still quite nervous thinking about having to be around the drugs but when Atsumu brought up his unease he waved it off. They changed the topic. 

The brownies came out better than expected, rich and decadent considering they were a box mix. They were a bit stuck to the bottom of the pan which Kiyoomi had teased him for but overall a success. 

They decided they were going to go on a proper date. It had felt like a lifetime since the last time they went out and actually put effort into a date night. When they started dating they went on several cute, fun dates but since everything got real and serious so fast, it was like they hadn’t had time. 

So, they planned a nice, relaxing night out. It was low pressure, nothing too crazy as Atsumu knew Kiyoomi was still adjusting to being sober. 

Kiyoomi liked days like these. He could feel as if things were mostly normal. 

He explicitly asked Atsumu to avoid any drug talk or bipolar/mental illness talk. He agreed, then went on some rant about how establishing boundaries was really healthy and important. Kiyoomi laughed despite understanding and agreeing with everything he was saying. 

The date started off well. They were able to get through the first part of the date with little issue. They decorated some pottery for the hell of it before Atsumu dragged him to the lazer tag place down the street. Kiyoomi refused originally but after a couple pleads and puppy dog eyes Kiyoomi swore to beat him. 

He did end up beating Atsumu by a few points but ended up coming second to some random kid that was running around tagging everyone. Kiyoomi almost raged and demanded a rematch but Atsumu pushed him out the door. 

When they made it to a restaurant they preplanned out for dinner Atsumu ordered them both non alcoholic drinks. Kiyoomi furrowed his eyebrows when he heard the blonde put the order in but said nothing. 

Throughout their time at the restaurant it was somewhat bothersome to Kiyoomi that he couldn’t seem to shake the grating voice of addiction gnawing in the back of his mind. 

He’s used to the intrusive thoughts, they’re not new or surprising by any means. It was just exponentially more frustrating at the moment. He was out with his boyfriend, trying to have a nice time after what felt like a lifetime of a shitty detox and his mind couldn’t help but throw these thoughts at him. 

They were constant, looping, taunting… 

This could be better high.

Am I acting weird? Fidgety? 

I’m easier to hang out with when I’m not sober. 

Would he think I’m more interesting if I was more relaxed?

I could easily sneak out of the apartment tonight and take a couple… 

Maybe I could quiet my stupid brain with a couple pills

He couldn’t stop thinking of different ways to get his pills without Atsumu knowing. 

He was thinking up different scenarios of how he would act or respond if he was high versus how he was actively responding. He kept regretting what he said after the fact and replaying the interaction how he wished it went or how it probably would’ve went if he was high. 

His facade must’ve started to crumble because Atsumu sensed something was wrong. He didn’t say anything at first, he only gave him a look to ask if he was okay. Kiyoomi nodded, hoping that he would be able to shake himself off. Atsumu dropped it and tried lightening the mood which Kiyoomi appreciated way more than he could express. 

After a while though, his brain was getting to him. He was frustrated. He was clenching his jaw and his fists… He wanted to rip out his hair to just get it to stop . 

“Hey, Omi-omi?” Atsumu said sweetly. It broke him out of his trance he didn’t know he was in, “We can go home if you aren’t feelin’ alright. I’m okay with that. Don’t feel like yer disappointin’ me or anythin’,” 

Kiyoomi felt tears well up in his eyes and his face flush with frustration, “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He felt so humiliated. 

“No apologies allowed. Wanna wait outside while I pay?” Atsumu reached his hand across the table and rubbed his thumb over the clenched fist which loosened upon feeling the contact. Kiyoomi hesitated but before he could argue about the check Atsumu beat him to it, “I’m payin’. No discussion,” Kiyoomi nodded slowly, standing up to leave. He pulled out his vape and hit it a few times as he waited outside for Atsumu.

When Atsumu emerged from the restaurant and saw Kiyoomi looking down an alley he walked up behind him and swiftly grabbed his hand, “Let’s go,” Kiyoomi startled a bit, looking down before gripping it loosely and allowed himself to be dragged back to the apartment complex.

Atsumu was recounting a story or something that happened to him the other day. He forced himself to repeat the words Atsumu was saying in his head. But he must’ve zoned out half way through because he doesn’t remember the second half of it. 

Repeating the words in his head didn’t do too much for him to actually process the dialogue if he was honest. It was more so just a way to occupy his inner monologue so it wouldn’t start going rogue and ruminate on his thoughts. 

“So, do you wanna talk about it?” Atsumu asked with a small smile, god, he’s gorgeous. 

“Tomorrow?” Kiyoomi suggested hopefully. 

“Sure,” Atsumu agreed simply, bringing him into a lingering kiss. 

The kiss made Kiyoomi flood with warmth, he didn’t want the feeling to fade. When Atsumu went to pull away he reached to wrap his arms around the blonde's neck and pulled him back in for another kiss. 

His mind was quiet. All he could focus on was the feeling of Atsumu’s lips on his own. He didn’t want it to end. The feeling of hands on his hips were grounding and comforting, but he wanted more, he needed more. 

He went to deepen the kiss when he felt a small squeeze on his hip and Atsumu pulled away with a flushed face and shiny lips, “Omi, you alright with this?” 

His chest was visibly rising and falling, the pink flush of his skin running down to hide under his shirt. Kiyoomi wanted to rip it off and see where it ended. 

“Yeah, please,” he said breathily. Atsumu smiled and leaned in, giving him a quick peck on the lips before moving them to the bedroom. 

They’ve only had sex a few times. The first time they hooked up Atsumu doesn’t even remember, and Kiyoomi was hypomanic which always made him feel weird about anything he did afterwards. 

All in all, they both kind of felt weird about that time to consider it their first time together. 

The second time was sweet. It was sensual, and arguably the most romantic sex he had in his life. It was the connection that was electrifying, the whole interaction had him shaking with pleasure and thinking about it for days after the fact. 

They’ve given each other a couple handjobs here and there but other than that they haven’t done much more. Nothing like what Kiyoomi needed tonight. 

cw/tw: not very graphic but- sex as self-harm. Wanting to revoke consent/stop yet not saying anything. Post coital dysphoria (?). 

To skip the main sexual part go to next bolded sentence. 

This time around Kiyoomi needed a distraction. He wanted it to hurt. He rushed the prepping and skimped on the lube. He ended up riding Atsumu to oversensitivity and pushing his limits to the point of discomfort. 

Prior to everything, Atsumu had told Kiyoomi to use the traffic light system if anything came up when Kiyoomi begged to be spanked, bit, scratched… 

Atsumu didn’t know any better in the moment, Kiyoomi sounded like he was enjoying himself, in a masochistic way. He had tears but they weren’t unlike those he played around with before who were into kinkier things. 

After they both finished, Atsumu offered his hand out to Kiyoomi to go to the washroom and take a shower with him. He rejected, opting to curl up in bed for a while more instead. 

Tears quickly started wetting the pillow as soon as he heard the shower start. There was a huge rush of disgust that seemed to collapse around him. 

His chest heaved as he curled into himself more. His body felt gross, the sweat making the covers stick to him was beyond unpleasant and he would do anything to just not feel anymore. 

He thought the sex was what he wanted, what he needed . And for the first few minutes it did what he wanted. His mind was off of the drugs and solely riding high on the pain and pleasure he was experiencing. 

Halfway through, the magic wore off. Everything felt like it was too much. He started crying but through the years of unpleasant sex he learned how to mask it in a way that wouldn’t turn off a partner. He learned how to make his crying ‘sexy’. God, it made him sick thinking about it. 

He was the one who initiated the sex, he couldn’t be the one who stopped it midway through, and leave his boyfriend hanging. So he finished. He forced himself to orgasm even though he felt absolutely disgusting. The fact that he was even able to come when he felt so devastated made him feel even worse. 

As he laid in his mess the thoughts came back with more discomfort than ever. The guilt and shame snuck up on him alongside the thoughts of getting his drugs. 

His mind was going into overdrive and he didn’t know how to make it stop. 

He just wanted it all to fucking stop. 

“I made sure not to use up all the hot water,” Atsumu’s voice broke through his torturous mind. He didn’t move, he didn’t want to move the covers because then Atsumu would see him naked and he was revolting.

He wished that he could just disappear and he could just be a passing face Atsumu never had to see again. 

He needed his fucking pills. 

“I’m going to grab a smoke,” He finally said. His voice came out raspy and rough. He sounded pathetic; it made him want to die.  

“Smoke?” Atsumu repeated.

“Yes. Smokes from my room. Can you, like, leave me be for a second?” He snapped. His body was still facing away from the blonde, he couldn’t have Atsumu seeing him like this. It was humiliating. 

Atsumu backed out of the room slowly, “I’ll be in the kitchen when ya get dressed,” he shut the door behind him. 

Grabbing fists full of his hair he pulled angrily, gritting his teeth until his jaw hurt. He untensed and let out a controlled breath, trying to regulate his emotions, he felt stupid, dumb, any other synonym you could find. 

He slowly sat up trying to ignore the icky feeling of acknowledging the fact he even had a body and began to put on the baggiest sweater and sweatpants he had brought to Atsumu’s. 

He pushed his hair out of his face and flattened it out so it didn't look too unruly and left the bedroom with his head down and frown on his face. 

“Babe?” The nickname caused Kiyoomi’s head to shoot up. Babe? He still wanted to call him that even after how gross he was? Atsumu was in the kitchen, one hand opening the freezer while he was looking at the other with slight worry in his eyes. 

Kiyoomi tried to shake the self loathing and pointed to the door wordlessly as he walked nearer to it. 

“Hold up, I’ll come with,” He offered, about to close the freezer and head toward him. 

Kiyoomi shook his head. He was going over to get a pack of cigarettes, sure, that wasn’t a lie. But he wasn’t about to snort a pill in front of Atsumu after making him think he’s been doing so well on keeping his cravings down. 

“Okay. But you can come down and smoke it on the balcony here. I’ll keep you company if you want,” Kiyoomi glanced at the door nervously. 

He wouldn’t be able to crush up a pill and insufflate it realistically if Atsumu just thought he was going to fetch a pack of smokes. 

Kiyoomi shrugged and walked out of the apartment with his keys. He walked into his own apartment slowly. Atsumu must’ve cleaned the place well before he left because it was definitely cleaner than he remembers it being. 

He made his way to the bathroom, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest, sweating with anticipation for the next few minutes. 

His mind was finally silent, the intrusive thoughts weren’t begging and pleading anymore… they must feel so smug right now. 

He opened the cabinet containing his favourite pills and pulled out the bottle of oxycontin. The little green, yellow and red pills stared back at him, welcoming him back. 

He poured a couple out onto his hand and slipped them into his pocket. He kept one in his hand as he made his way to where he kept his smokes. 

With his smokes and his pills he went to the kitchen and filled a glass of water. He cringed slightly looking at the pill in his hand, he tossed it in his mouth and chewed hard . For a second he was scared he would break his fucking tooth. 

The taste was beyond unpleasant and he closed his eyes trying to think about the outcome rather than this current unfortunate road bump. He took a drink of water and swished it around his mouth to try and get rid of the taste. He scowled, not being able to rid the foul bite of the pill. It would have to do. 

He quickly put the glass in the sink, and retreated back to the apartment thinking he had been here for too long and he didn't want Atsumu to get suspicious. 

He made it back to Atsumu’s in time to see him crush up some Oreos into a bowl of ice cream. 

“Yer back,” He smiled softly. He put a bowl of ice cream without Oreos on the table accompanied with a pack of the cookies in the centre of the table, “Didn’t know if ya like oreos on yer Ice cream,” Kiyoomi nodded with a tight lipped smile, his eyes flickered to the patio door briefly, “We can go eat it on the balcony!” 

Atsumu picked up the bowls and made his way to the patio door, sliding it open to allow Kiyoomi to slip out before him. 

There was a little table with three chairs around it. Kiyoomi slipped out the pack of cigarettes from his pocket and a lighter. 

Atsumu watched as he lit it with ease. It was the first time Atsumu had seen Kiyoomi smoke anything that wasn’t just hitting his vape casually around the apartment. He didn’t know why watching Kiyoomi light the cigarette and smoke it casually was such an interesting sight to see. 

Maybe it was the fact that he knew Kiyoomi had smoked many different things other than just tobacco and this was merely a glimpse of what that might’ve looked like. 

Realistically, Atsumu knew he would probably never see Kiyoomi smoke something illicit like meth or heroin but his mind couldn’t help but try to imagine what he might look like anyway. 

Did he keep a straight face when he smoked such euphoria inducing drugs? Maybe he leaned back where he sat with his eyes closed and embraced the feeling of the drug he inhaled. He couldn’t help but think Kiyoomi would look incredibly attractive smoking something like that. 

He grimaced at his train of thought. He suddenly felt bad for thinking of such things. He couldn’t decide whether or not this thought process was inherently good or bad… 

But did he really have to determine whether his thoughts were good or bad? Why couldn’t he just allow them to be neutral? 

Just because he was imagining Kiyoomi doing drugs doesn’t mean anything really.  The stigma around drugs was making him question his own morality. 

There was no bad or good when it came to drugs, grey zones were everywhere, he knew this now. He really needed to work on the decolonization of his mind because just thinking about drugs should not make him spiral into feelings of shame. 

It made him think about how drug users who frequently talk to others who condemn them and stigmatize their actions, intentionally or not, and how they might internalize it… 

How do addicts deal with people all around them throwing dirt at them for not having a support system they needed at a time of crisis and not internalize that shame? It sounded difficult.

He couldn’t imagine the amount of effort they must put into getting up to see another day to face those feelings which are only exacerbated by the hands of others… People who simply don't understand their own privilege and feel the need to look down on those who just need something to help them get through the day. 

The thought was horrifying to Atsumu, his heart broke. 

He wondered just how much of those feelings Kiyoomi had felt through his life. 

Sure, Kiyoomi has a life that to others looks glamorous. But from stories that Atsumu heard, the traumas he’s had to face and still being so young… He got lucky in the sense that he had a support system to fall back on, money to cushion his fall. Even though money isn’t everything, he would be a fool to say it didn’t help.

Hell, he had a career where he could (somehow) get away with feeding his addiction and still excel in what he was doing despite feeling like the world around him was collapsing. 

“You seem lost in thought,” Kiyoomi mumbled, snapping Atsumu out of his trance. He had been staring at the cigarette in his hand which was now almost done.

“Oh, sorry,” He chuckled awkwardly, “I honestly didn’t know you smoked,” He took a couple bites out of his now half melted ice cream. 

“Are you surprised?” Kiyoomi asked, flicking off an ash into the wind, “It’s not like you don’t see me vaping around the apartment all the time,” 

“Right, but vaping and smokin’ are different,” 

“I guess. Still a nicotine addict regardless,” He said. He was starting to feel warmth creep up his spine. 

“Touche,” Atsumu said with a slight chuckle.

Kiyoomi smiled softly. He flicked the butt of the cigarette off the balcony carelessly since he didn’t have an ashtray and stood up to go back inside. Atsumu followed, grabbing Kiyoomi’s bowl of untouched ice cream.

They ate the ice cream in silence as they sat in the living room. There was some sort of tension lingering in the air that Atsumu felt and he hated it. He didn’t completely understand the cause and it was driving him crazy. 

He couldn’t stop overthinking what might have caused Kiyoomi’s mood switch earlier on in the evening. He doesn’t remember a specific thing that stood out, he kept the conversation light and easy, making sure to stay away from anything that might lead back to the topics that were off limits. 

The mood was off before the sex so the sex couldn’t have been the thing to cause it… right? But… Did the sex make it worse? Maybe they shouldn’t have had sex. 

Kiyoomi didn't look blissed out afterwards like the first (second) time they had sex, maybe he was too rough this time around. 

He turned to Kiyoomi who was scraping the last of the ice cream onto the spoon, “Should we talk about what happened?”

Kiyoomi slowly ate the last bite staring hard at the ground, “About the sex?” He seemed partially confused. Also just unwilling to even have a conversation that contained feelings at all. 

“Yes? Maybe also what happened on the date? I just need to know if I did somethin’,” As soon as he said that, the voice inside his head taunted him for being so insecure. Kiyoomi’s going to think he’s too needy, too insecure, why would Kiyoomi want to be with someone so insecure?

“I need to take a shower,” Kiyoomi said simply. He stood up with his bowl and brought it to the sink, leaving Atsumu alone on the couch with his own empty bowl. 

Kiyoomi was tired. He stood motionless under the stream of water feeling it hit his back rhythmically. It felt good - relaxing, heightened most likely by the drugs. 

Despite the good feelings forcibly produced by the drugs the emptiness was even more pronounced somehow. Maybe he didn’t take enough to get rid of some feelings he wanted to avoid. 

The accumulation of everything the past few weeks feels like they have finally caught up with him. He blames the fact that he’s sober. Was sober? Well, he was sober when all these feelings started to snowball. Did he really break his sobriety already? He felt more guilt added to the pile… 

He had been so open about everything, sharing his life with Atsumu, the most vulnerable parts of himself… What if it’s all for nothing? 

All that baggage he unloaded, who did it help? No matter how much Atsumu assures him that it doesn’t bother him, or that he can handle it, it doesn’t mean that he should have to bear it all. 

Kiyoomi detoxed and finally got to a point where the physical symptoms were manageable and now he was throwing away the perseverance for a mediocre high. Not even mediocre, this shit sucks… Why was his mind spiralling like this when he should be euphoric?  

He felt a lump in his throat, one he couldn’t swallow down no matter how hard he tried. The tears seemed to have followed, warmly caressing his cheeks as they blended into the water of the shower. 

He was so tired of this life… Living like this. This push and pull… Up and down. Why couldn’t he be normal? 

His knees felt weak, physically tired. He slowly descended to the floor of the shower, it was disgusting. He knew this consciously, but he had no energy to stand up. He tucked his head onto his knees and closed his eyes, wishing he could just be washed away down the drain. 

He imagined a life where he didn’t have bipolar, a life where he never turned to drugs as a way to cope. What kind of life would he have, what kind of joys would he experience? 

What kind of pain would have he avoided? What traumas could have been stopped? 

It wasn’t fair to think about those things. He knew that. ‘Your past made you who you are today’ and all that crap. But what if you don’t like who you are today? He was so tired of not liking who he is. 

Doctors told him CBT would help, but it did nothing. They stuffed him with meds but all he could do was self sabotage with getting addicted to anything he could get his hands on and basically making it so that any meds he did take were all for naught. 

He couldn’t even kill himself right for god sake. 

He was pathetic. 

Now he was sitting on the filthy bathtub floor, naked, crying, with his boyfriend knocking on the door, unaware of his relaps– knocking on the door? 

“-Mi? You’ve been in there a long time… Are you okay?” 

Oh. Right. 

All he could do was turn his head towards the sound of the banging. His head still propped on his knees, water still pouring down on him. 

He felt like there were weights strapped to his arms and legs, getting up was too much… everything was too much. The door to the washroom was opened, he thought he had locked it, huh. 

“Omi?” Atsumu’s voice was shaky. Scared. The shadow approached the shower curtain and slowly pulled it back. 

Atsumu’s concerned face was the first thing Kiyoomi saw. He closed his eyes and turned his head away from the blonde. He doesn’t know how much more humiliation he can take in one night.

The water was shut off and Kiyoomi felt a chill ripple through him, “Baby… Can you get up?” His voice was soft, like he was talking to an injured animal. Kiyoomi hated it. 

He shook his head no despite not liking anything about this. 

Atsumu grabbed a towel from the rack and helped Kiyoomi up before wrapping him quickly, trying to preserve his dignity. As if he had any left.

Atsumu rubbed his arms over the towel soothingly as Kiyoomi stared at the ground, “Can you dry off yourself?” Kiyoomi shrugged. Lazily he did so as Atsumu went to pick up his discarded clothes on the ground, “I’ll get you new clothes,” 

Kiyoomi could barely register anything Atsumu was saying, it all sounded like muddled noise, he nodded anyway. 

He only understood the situation when Atsumu came back into the washroom with a very distressed look on his face and new clothes in his hand. Kiyoomi stared at the clothes and the vape Atsumu had placed on top of the pile. The vape which was in the pocket of the pants he was wearing previously. 

The pants he was wearing when he also slipped several pills into his pocket. 

Kiyoomi felt a pit in his stomach, he wanted to throw up. He wanted to run, he wanted to beg for forgiveness. He wanted to reassure Atsumu it wasn’t his fault, it could never be his fault. It was his own fault… He was the only one to blame. 

Kiyoomi did none of the above, he closed his eyes, willing back the tears. 

“Get dressed, I’ll be in bed,” he whispered. He left the pile of clothes on the lid of the toilet and walked out of the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him. 

And so Kiyoomi sobbed. He bit his fist and he sobbed until he left bite marks on his fist. He cried until he thought his tears ran out and his throat hurt. 

He got dressed slowly, he felt lethargic. He sat on the toilet seat and vaped, the headrush barely there but the sensation of inhaling and the exhale was grounding at least. 

He dreaded going to bed. He knew Atsumu would be awake. He sat there for a while longer. Staring at the ground, time was going by fast or maybe it stopped, he wasn’t sure. Time didn’t feel like it existed. 

He slowly made his way through the hall and blindly made his way to the bed in the dark room. He got under the covers and laid on his side facing away from Atsumu. 

“I shoulda gone with ya,” came a broken voice not too long after. Kiyoomi sighed. 

“You’re not my guardian,” His voice was rougher than he thought.

Atsumu shifted before an arm was placed over his waist and he was pulled into a loose hold, “No, I’m not. And I don’t want ya to feel like you hafta sneak around ‘n hide from me. 

“Relapsing happens, Kiyoomi. I’m not gonna judge ya. Did you expect to ride out the high in the bathroom? You don’t have to hide from me, please don’t hide,” 

“I wasn’t,” Kiyoomi pressed further into Atsumu’s heat, “I got heavy,” 

Atsumu didn’t respond for a bit, probably unsure how to respond to that, “Are ya overdosing or noddin’ out or somethin’?” 

“Not even close,” he sighed, “I just got in my head… Everything felt heavy, tired,” Atsumu made a noise of acknowledgement and thought for a bit. 

“Are you having, like, a depressive episode?” Atsumu asked genuinely. 

Kiyoomi felt his brain pause, a depressive episode? 

It takes Kiyoomi at least a week before he realises his depression has gotten bad, usually by then his bedroom floor is covered in dirty and clean laundry, dirty dishes and his bed is a nest of pillows and blankets from sleeping the days away after work… 

The increase of suicidal thoughts, he chalked up to the withdrawal but he assumed they would’ve been more severe near the beginning… The thoughts have only been getting bad the last couple days.

“Oh…” He said quietly, “I think… It might be getting bad,” Kiyoomi said. 

Atsumu squeezed him a little tighter, “Think?” 

“I usually don’t know when an episode is happening before something significant happens or someone points something out…” 

“Okay, well, we’ll figure it out, yeah? So, what should we do, baby?” 

The name made his stomach flip a little, “I like when you call me that,” he whispered. 

Atsumu pressed a couple kisses on the column of his throat, “Hm, I’m glad you like it, baby,” His voice was gravely and low. Kiyoomi wanted to drown in it, maybe use it as ASMR. 

“Sleep,” he said instead. He put his hand over top Atsumu’s and laced their fingers. Kiyoomi still felt gross, Atsumu’s touch made him a little squirmy but he was able to ignore it enough to sleep despite him being hyperaware of every part of them touching.   

Atsumu hummed lightly and said his goodnights before closing his eyes.

Chapter Text

Atsumu woke up to the bed rustling. He opened his eyes and saw a small cloud above his head and the smell of cherries. He looked over at Kiyoomi who was crawling back into bed with a quiet apology for waking him up, “What time is it?” he mumbled. 

“6:30. I’m going back to sleep,” Kiyoomi said. 

Atsumu nodded and held his arms open. There was some hesitation but reluctantly he fell into the others arms and drifted back to sleep. Atsumu stayed awake. He was never too good at falling back asleep in the morning. 

He thought about last night. Kiyoomi was having a depressive episode… he honestly had no clue how to handle that. 

He’s never seen someone go through it so personally. He’s talked to someone in the midst of a depressive episode but that's on a different level than actually being at the core of where the depression can physically manifest. 

When doing research on depression he’s seen people talk about their experience. Some told stories about their spouses who always said they would support them and would be there for them until they actually saw how ugly and unpleasant it could be. 

He didn’t want to be like that. He needed to show Kiyoomi that he wouldn’t leave. 

He saw some people on reddit asking for help when it came to personal hygiene when it came to depressive episodes. It came as a surprise to him, how could you be neglectful to the point of not brushing your teeth for days? Or not showering? Leaving dirty dishes to the point of mould or bugs?

Despite not fully understanding how one could just not do it he kept an open mind. He re-read the symptoms of depression and the words ‘ decreased energy, fatigue’ stuck out to him . He assumed these would be the symptoms causing the disruption in hygiene practice. 

But he just couldn’t understand the extent of fatigue it must take… Sure, he gets tired, exhausted even, but he can always just swing his legs over his bed to wander over to the bathroom and shower. It makes him feel so much better. 

Seeing Kiyoomi in the shower yesterday admittedly helped put things into perspective a bit. He seemed so helpless. So tired, beyond physical or just ‘sleepy’ tired. When he said he felt heavy he had heard someone on a forum say it before but he didn’t fully understand previously. Witnessing and reading about something were very different, Atsumu quickly realised. 

Kiyoomi had said that his depression is worse than his hypomania, more debilitating. Atsumu believes him, but he’s never witnessed it first hand. Kiyoomi still goes to work when he’s still depressed so it can’t be that bad… right? 

He knows Kiyoomi is usually big on cleanliness and hygiene so those things shouldn’t be too big of a deal, right? He honestly doesn’t really know what to look out for. Was the take out bags and laundry when he came back to the apartment a red flag he should’ve noticed? Was he starting to get bad then? 

He reached out to grab his phone, trying not to move too much in order to keep Kiyoomi sleeping and searched up the symptoms of depression. He read through the list and felt a pit in his stomach. All these things were mainly internal, mental sadness… 

Now thinking about it shouldn’t come as a surprise as it is… a mental illness… classified as low mood… Atsumu felt stupid. Why was he focusing so much on the external factors? 

Sure the way Kiyoomi would act is a symptom but it's because of the mental turmoil that's brewing in his head, the internal guilt, hopelessness, sadness, loss of interest… The thoughts of suicide… 

Atsumu felt himself grow anxious, he couldn’t lose Kiyoomi to suicide. He already had a scare of his life being taken, he didn’t need another one. 

Was Kiyoomi thinking about suicide, or planning something? Atsumu wanted to lock him up in a little box and put him in a pocket so he’d never be a threat to himself. He doesn't want him leaving his sights… Would Kiyoomi let him stay with him? 

He knows they made a plan to clean out his apartment so Kiyoomi could sleep back at his own place but can Atsumu really sleep peacefully knowing Kiyoomi is dealing with such thoughts alone? He slid out of the bed, careful not to wake the other man and made his way to the kitchen to make coffee. He had to stop thinking about this.

They didn’t have practice today so Atsumu lounged on the couch all morning. He ended up facetime Osamu as he was opening Onigiri Miya and they talked for about two hours before Osamu hung up. 

When it was about 1:30pm Atsumu was getting antsy at the fact that Kiyoomi hadn't gotten out of bed yet. He slipped into the room and saw the lump of blankets rise and fall steadily, breathing. That's a good sign at least. 

Atsumu sat at the ledge of the bed and placed a hand where he assumed Kiyoomi’s hip was. The movement must have awoken Kiyoomi slightly because he rolled onto his back, his eyes fluttering slightly. There was a frown on his face as if he was unhappy to be woken up, but it looked pouty and kind of cute. 

Atsumu felt a surge of fondness and he couldn’t help but lean over and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Kiyoomi grunted and turned his head away, pouting even more, the frown was gone. The blonde chuckled, eyeing the neck that was now on full display for him, tempting. 

He gave into the temptations and started attacking the still half asleep man with open mouth kisses. A huff of air was released above him, it sounded amused so he didn’t stop, but he did slow down, the kisses became more sensual. 

One hand lay upon his far hip whilst the other was propped up near his head. He trailed kisses lower to the neckline of Kiyoomi’s shirt, teasing the skin with his teeth but not quite biting. 

The hand on Kiyoomi’s hip moved to pick up and throw the duvet cover further off to the side. Atsumu repositioned himself so he was stradling Kiyoomi. 

Kiyoomi looked up at him, his cheeks pink with blush which Atsumu found beyond endearing, but couldn’t hold eye contact for long. 

“Can I blow ya?” Atsumu blurted out. One hand ran down his chest slowly, he felt the valley of Kiyoomi’s abs through the thin material of the shirt and he wanted nothing more than to just pull it up and lick every groove he could see. 

Kiyoomi’s eyes looked shifty. His expression turned anxious quickly, “I- um,” 

“Hey,” He said softly. He moved off of Kiyoomi and resumed his previous spot next to him on the edge of the bed, “You can say no. Ya just look so pretty and I wanna make ya feel good,” 

Kiyoomi let out a shaky breath. He thought about last night's events. The way he wanted to stop halfway through but didn’t want to disappoint him… Atsumu was so caring and understanding he felt a sudden guilt for even thinking Atsumu would act like his exes. 

Atsumu wanted to make him feel good. It wasn’t all about his own pleasure, Kiyoomi wasn’t just some sex doll for him to use and discard. 

The more Kiyoomi thought about Atsumu going down on him the more he felt a stir in his pants. The more he disassociated Atsumu from his exes the easier it was to imagine doing sexual things with him. Maybe he could let Atsumu do this. His heart raced, but it wasn’t in a bad way, it was anticipatory. 

Atsumu looked at him like he was worthy of love, like he was worthy of his own pleasure and not just being the tool to other’s. Atsumu made him feel wanted in a way that he wanted to be wanted. 

Yesterday Kiyoomi was thinking of ways to distract himself, he wasn’t thinking about Atsumu in the way he deserved to be. Today, maybe he could indulge in a way that wouldn’t hurt. Maybe he could accept Atsumu’s pure intentions openly, maybe the end result would be better. 

Kiyoomi brought both his hands to his face and covered himself, palms digging into his eyes, “I just woke up,” he slurred slightly. 

“Doesn’t change my question. Also, doesn't change whether or not you can say no,” Atsumu said as if it was obvious. Kiyoomi peeked through a couple fingers before saying a simple okay and throwing an arm over his face. Atsumu grinned brightly, he crawled over the man once again, leaning up to press a quick kiss on his lips. He slid further down, situating himself between Kiyoomi’s legs.

Cw: poorly written Bj– idk how to write this shit fr

Go to next bolded sentence to save brain cells 

He sat on his knees and reached up, pushing Kiyoomi’s shirt up. He saw the quick rise and fall of his chest and couldn’t help but rub his hands over his torso, muttering how pretty he was between each kiss. 

He made his way down, starting with his nipples, playing, sucking, kissing, leaving marks before he got to the top of his pants. Kiyoomi’s whimpers and occasional thigh twitches kept Atsumu’s confidence up as he slowly tugged at the pyjama pants, kissing his hips as they got lower. 

With some manoeuvring they were fully off and Kiyoomi was flush and harder than Atsumu expected. 

He rubbed up and down Kiyoomi’s inner thighs with his hands looking up at the other's face to see him biting his lip with his eyes clenched shut. 

He held back a chuckle, not wanting to make him feel self conscious. He just couldn’t help but think how cute Kiyoomi looked even in a moment like this. He pressed a kiss to the tip of Kiyoomi’s flush dick and a few more down to his balls. 

With the quick tease, he held onto Kiyoomi’s hip and his thumb made small circles into his skin as he started sucking hickies onto his inner thighs. 

Atsumu isn’t ashamed to admit he loves hickies. He loves seeing his marks on his partners, knowing it was him who made it, it was a bonus if other people saw it. But he knew they were professionals and adults so it would be inappropriate to make such obvious marks elsewhere. 

He would have to settle for the thighs, hips and stomach. After making his work of art on the previously empty thighs he got to the main event. 

He licked a strip from the bottom to the top of his dick making Kiyoomi inhale sharply. He took the base into his hand and teased the slit with his tongue before slipping the head into his mouth. 

His tongue moved around the head skillfully, he teased the frenulum and took in more as he bobbed his head. He started playing with his balls with his hand, speeding up his rhythm. 

He felt tears prickle his eyes and he looked up at Kiyoomi who was already looking down at him with his mouth slightly ajar, small pants and sharp inhales occasionally being heard. 

Atsumu couldn’t help himself but to moan, seeing his partner pleasured was a huge turn on, he could feel his own hard-on twitch with need in his pants. 

He inhaled through his nose before taking even more of Kiyoomi into his mouth, deepthroating him. Kiyoomi threw his head back and moaned aloud as Atsumu adjusted, trying not to choke too harshly, his throat was constricting involuntarily but he persisted. 

He slowly started to move, deepthroating Kiyoomi, something he admittedly never been a fan of, nor been the best at, but he wanted to try for Kiyoomi incase it was something he liked. 

He seemed to be doing okay as Kiyoomi’s hand flew to Atsumu’s head and gently pulled on his hair, the moans coming from him were angelic, music to his ears. He wished he could record them and listen to them whenever he needed the extra push off the edge while touching himself. 

They were distracting him from the tears that were falling from his eyes and the gross amount of spit accumulating from the corners of his mouth. The gagging sounds were also not his favourite but it didn’t seem to be bothering Kiyoomi, so he didn’t complain or slow down. 

Through breathy moans Kiyoomi pulled Atsumu’s hair to get him to pull up slightly, “Gonna come,” he groaned. With that he came just in time for it to shoot into Atsumu’s mouth and not straight down his throat. 

He swallowed it down and pulled off, one hand continued to stroke him slowly through his orgasm. When his thighs started trembling and jerked to close, Atsumu let go, letting his now soft cock lie on his stomach. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then wiped it on the side of his thigh with a shrug. 

Kiyoomi was lying on his back with an arm thrown over his face and his other hand resting on his stomach which was rising and falling quickly. 

Atsumu smiled softly at the scene.

He pulled up the covers enough to cover the fact he wasn't wearing any pants and stretched his arms over his head with a groan before flopping onto the bed next to him. He threw an arm over his waist quickly placing a kiss on his cheek, “Good?” 

Kiyoomi groaned and turned on his side to face Atsumu who was smiling at him. He nodded with a soft smile on his face and closed his eyes. Atsumu pulled him in closer and placed another kiss on his forehead, as Kiyoomi bowed his head, tucking it into Atsumu’s chest. 

“Cuddle bug,” He muttered, “It’s probably like two o’clock. We should get you something to eat,” 

“Rest,” he replied. 

How is he still tired after more than 12 hours of sleep? 

“15 minutes. I’m making you food,” Atsumu said somewhat sternly. While getting up. Kiyoomi whimpered at the loss of contact. 

He glared up at the blonde and buried his face in the pillow, reaching behind him blindly for a stuffed animal that was on the other side of the bed. He could barely reach it so Atsumu grabbed it and tossed it at the back of his head. 

“I’ll be back,” he said dismissively as he left the room. 

Kiyoomi hugged the stuffed animal close to his chest wishing it was Atsumu instead. Despite his apprehension towards the blowjob before the fact, he was pleasantly surprised. He’s never gotten a proper blowjob before. He’s given many but never has he been on the receiving end by someone he wanted one from and it was great. 

Atsumu was sweet and did more than just suck it and leave like he expected from a blowjob, he took his time. Kissed his body like he wanted to be there and taste him. It made him feel like his body was worth being taken care of. 

He just wished the bastard stayed and cuddled. He glared at the stuffed animal that was currently replacing the warmth of his boyfriend. He reached over to his vape, taking a couple puffs before allowing his eyes to shut again. He relaxed into the bed, not feeling any disgust or feelings of regret like he did last night after their encounter. It felt good not regretting sexual activities, not feeling gross. 

It took twenty minutes to make Kiyoomi his meal and bring it back to the room. He flipped on the overhead light and sang his name until he opened his eyes and sat up. 

He had the stuffed animal in his lap, the visual was adorable and Atsumu had to hold back his coos since he knew it would make Kiyoomi uncomfortable. 

He put the tray on Kiyoomi’s lap and sat next to him, “Sleep well?” Kiyoomi shrugged. “Ya slept long,” another shrug as he went to take a bite of the food following a contemplative look on his face as he examined it. 

“What should we do today? I know we were going to clean your place but… we can push it to a different day?” 

“Wanna get it over with,” he said with his mouth partially full of food. 

Atsumu hesitated. He didn’t think it was a good idea to have Kiyoomi around all his drugs. He already relapsed and it just seemed like fuel to an already lit fire. Atsumu felt a surge of conflict brew within him. He didn’t want to tell Kiyoomi what to do. He should be the leader of his own sobriety and he’s fully aware of that. 

He wants to believe that Kiyoomi knows what’s best for himself but in all honesty he doesn’t know how true that statement would be. Especially in the state of mind he’s in currently it’s hard to know if he would be making the best decisions. 

Sure, some may argue that doing drugs at any time would never be the best decision and Atsumu couldn’t lie and say he still hasn’t shaken that mindset completely. 

When would the best time to do drugs even be? When you’re completely mentally content? Not a care in the world? All your Maslow needs fulfilled? For most people it’s not realistic to only do drugs when they’re happy. A lot of people might even be confused as to why you’d want to do drugs when you’ve reached such a state. 

For people like Kiyoomi, sometimes the only way to cope with the strong feelings they experience, the negative and debilitating emotions, drugs can feel like the only thing to get them through the day. 

So while some may argue this is the worst time for Kiyoomi to be doing drugs, Kiyoomi might think the opposite. And who’s to say who’s right? 

All Atsumu could do was put his trust in him. Trust that he would communicate his needs, reach out when needed and not go overboard again. He can try… He has to try. 

“Okay,” He said finally. Kiyoomi looked at him as if he was expecting to debate for the outcome. The surprised expression on his face made Atsumu feel a little guilty for making him feel as if he had to defend his reasoning but he tried to push it away. 

His major goal for today was to get Kiyoomi out of bed. He still has yet to succeed but there is a plan in motion so it’s a good sign. 

After Kiyoomi was done with the food he was about to pull the covers up to his chin but Atsumu held them down with a taut smile, “Up you get,”

“‘Tsumu,” 

“Omi-omi,” 

Kiyoomi just stared at him, unblinking. Atsumu stared back, he’s won many staring contests before, he will prevail. 

After winning the non official staring contest and gloating obnoxiously he tugged Kiyoomi out of bed and helped him get dressed. Kiyoomi was fiddling with the string on his hoodie as Atsumu was putting his shoes on. 

He wasn’t moving to put his shoes on, which Atsumu seemed to notice. He raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question. 

“Do you have my pills?” He asked quietly. A wince was visible on his face, obviously not liking that he had to ask to begin with. 

Wordlessly, Atsumu made his way over to where he had put the stash of pills he found in the pocket. He had them in a plastic bag. He handed the whole thing over. He wasn’t going to treat Kiyoomi like a child and only give him one pill. They were his after all. 

Kiyoomi held the bag tightly and bowed his head, seemingly guilty. Atsumu walked past him, his face neutral, “alright, let’s get going,” he held the door open. 

When they arrived at the front door of his apartment they stood there for a couple seconds. Neither of them moved to unlock the door. 

“Ready?” Atsumu asked. 

“I was here last night,” Kiyoomi pointed out. He wasn’t as anxious as before. 

The anxiety before was based on the fact he was scared of relapsing. That already happened. He was already planning on snorting a line once he got in. So really… He was indifferent. 

“Oh. Right,” Atsumu opened the door. 

Kiyoomi eyes his bedroom door, “I’m going to…” 

Atsumu noticed his demeanour. His body language wanting to run to the bedroom, his hand twitching around the bag which held the pills… He closed his eyes and tried not to feel hurt. 

“Can I come with you?” He asked quietly. Kiyoomi stilled. 

Kiyoomi used to do drugs in front of people all the time. He knew it was safer to do drugs with others, but this was Atsumu. 

Atsumu hasn’t done drugs like this. Atsumu probably hasn’t witnessed this before. Would seeing Kiyoomi do this change Atsumu’s perspective on him? Would he no longer want to support him? Would he think he’s disgusting? 

“Omi?” 

“I- Um…” Kiyoomi didn’t know what to say. 

“I’d just sit in the room with you. That’s all. I won’t say anything,” 

Kiyoomi threw caution into the wind, “Okay,” 

They walked into the room. Kiyoomi’s rolling tray with all his paraphernalia was already on his desk. He sat on the chair and got to work. 

Atsumu sat on the bed, trying to look over at what Kiyoomi was doing. He didn’t want to look too nosy to make Kiyoomi uncomfortable but he really wanted to see the process to satisfy his own curiosity. 

Once the pill was crushed into a fine powder Atsumu watched as he formed a line. He held his breath as Kiyoomi picked up a pack of unused short paper straws. 

In his head he always assumed everyone used a rolled dollar bill like the movies but then he thought about how Kiyoomi probably wouldn’t like the germs money carries. Then he thought about how much bacteria there probably is actually on money and how people just casually use it to snort powders that have potential to cause micro tears in the nasal cavity. He cringed thinking about the possibilities of infection.

This paper straw thing Kiyoomi had going on was a way better idea… 

Kiyoomi brought the straw up to his nose and snorted the first short line. Switching nostrils he snorted the second. 

He dropped the straw and sniffed, tilting his head up slightly. Atsumu looked at him slightly worried. When Kiyoomi turned around Atsumu saw his eyes were watery and he was still sniffling slightly. 

“You okay?” He asked quietly. 

“Yep,” Kiyoomi said, equally as quiet.  

“Don’t you have that sterile water?” He recalled Kiyoomi mentioning it a while ago. Kiyoomi shrugged a shoulder and walked over to his side table. He pulled out two little tubes of sterile water. 

Atsumu squinted at them. He thought it would be like filtered water, he honestly didn’t know what he expected. He didn’t expect little tubes that looked perfect to put in his nose. 

After Kiyoomi used the sterile water he tossed them in the trash and sat back down at the desk. 

“Should we start with the stuff in here?” Atsumu asked. He wanted to get this drug purge done with. He honestly didn’t even want to look at drugs at the moment. 

“You’re not going to judge me right?” Kiyoomi asked timidly. 

Atsumu stood up and walked over to him. He caressed the side of his face, “Of course not. I still remember what you said, you have money and an addiction. Let’s just get through this, okay?” 

Kiyoomi nodded slowly. Atsumu brushed a stray curl from Kiyoomi’s forehead and planted a kiss just under his hairline. 

“So, the closet?” He asked as they separated. 

Atsumu tried keeping his face as unbothered as he could while they were sorting through everything. They took out the weed Kiyoomi had previously shown him only to be pointed in the direction of where there was more. 

Good lord. 

Kiyoomi told him there was a relatively narrow yet mid high plastic compartment drawer in the closet. There Atsumu saw what almost made him faint. In every drawer he had sorted drugs. 

“I-” Atsumu started after opening a couple of the drawers. 

“I guess I’d be fine with getting rid of the loose weed. The pens and stuff I want to keep,” Kiyoomi mumbled looking at the ground. 

Atsumu was admittedly scared to even touch the drugs he saw. Some of them were labelled, others were just there. 

“I’m gonna be honest, Omi. I don’t know what most this stuff is,” 

Kiyoomi sighed and got up from his seat. He walked over to stand next to Atsumu and looked at the drawers that were opened. 

“Mda crystals,” he muttered, pointing at some of the unlabeled crystals in the drawers. 

“MDA? Isn’t it MDMA?” 

Kiyoomi shrugged, “No, they’re different drugs. They have some similar effects though,” 

“Do you have, like, every drug in the book here?” Atsumu asked. There was no judgement in his voice. It was genuine curiosity. 

“I don’t have anti-depressants,” 

Atsumu laughed. It wasn’t really a joke but Kiyoomi’s mouth twitched up and took the credit for it anyway. 

"What's all this?" He pointed to one drawer that had little tubes and little bottles of what looked like food colouring but he knew they definitely weren't. 

Kiyoomi peered into the drawer, "Drug testing stuff," he shrugged, "Fentanyl test strips, and different testing reagents to help identify a substance. Also got some stuff to test the purity of the drugs," Atsumu was mildly impressed that Kiyoomi had all these drug testing supplies, he was glad that he cared enough to actually check the drugs he took before hand. 

It took over an hour and a half to sort through and clean everything. They had containers of drugs scattered around them as they sat on the floor of Kiyoomi’s bedroom. Atsumu was paranoid that a cop was going to bust down the door at any moment and catch them red handed. 

They had one separate small pile of the drugs Kiyoomi was keeping. They included a weed pen with cartridges, and several pills of each drug he had mentioned were non-negotiables. 

Kiyoomi was pretty quiet throughout the whole process. He was reluctant to help, eyeing the drugs with a look Atsumu couldn’t place. It was one where he wasn’t sure if Kiyoomi was longing for them or was looking at them with distaste.

The amount of drugs Kiyoomi had still didn’t really make sense to Atsumu. It was so excessive. He was one man. Sure he had an addiction, but he said himself that his ‘go-to’s were Xanax, Oxy, weed and Adderall. 

“Kiyoomi…” Atsumu said gently as he was looking over the pile of containers. 

Kiyoomi was lying down on his bed, eyes closed. Atsumu knew he wasn’t sleeping. He told him to stop closing his eyes because he was uncomfortable but he kept doing it anyway. He gave up on trying to stop him. 

Kiyoomi opened one eye and peaked over at Atsumu. 

“I don’t want ya to take this wrong or think I’m judging ya ‘cause I’m not. I just can’t seem to understand why you have so much when you only use the same few drugs…” He picked up a container which had some mushrooms and inspected them. 

“Honest?” Kiyoomi sighed with his eyes closed.

“Obviously,” 

Kiyoomi sat up and stretched out his arms, “My ex boyfriend was an asshole. He was abusive, manipulative and cheated, constantly. 

“He was also a criminal. He was a part of some gang, I don’t know. I told him to never bring me into that shit. He got into a lot of fights, stole, all that. Classic bad boy stuff. Most notably he was a drug dealer. 

“I used him in the beginning, honestly. I got with him for his roof, drugs and dick. It was fine at first, like most abusive relationships. The thing is, none of his friends knew about me or the place he and I stayed at. I was basically his dirty secret. They couldn’t know he was gay. 

“So, the house we stayed at also became a place where he stashed some drugs when his boss needed a hideout or something. I was with him until the time he was arrested. When I heard of his arrest I took as many drugs as I could and I booked it out of that house. 

“It was kind of a big ‘fuck you’ to him for when he gets out of jail and sees all the drugs gone. If his boss doesn’t kill him for losing all the product,” Kiyoomi said with a shrug, ”I also just like to buy drugs in bulk when I’m manic sometimes,” Atsumu stared at him with an open mouth. 

“What the fuck. Yer life is a fucking movie,” Atsumu said dumbfounded, “What if they find out it’s you and try to find you?” 

Kiyoomi shrugged and settled back into his bed, “I’m famous, I'll threaten to expose everything. I’ll just pay them off and get them to move on with their pathetic lives,” 

“Pay the- Kiyoomi… This… I don’t even want to try and guess how much money all these drugs cost. Our paycheck isn’t that big,” 

Kiyoomi smirked and raised an eyebrow, “You’re cute,” 

“What?” he pouted, he didn’t understand what he was missing.

“I’ve got money, Atsumu. I’m pretty well off, in case you forgot. If it’s not enough, which is highly unlikely, I’ll sell my house back in Tokyo. It’s not like I ever use it really,” 

Atsumu started choking on air, “I’m sorry, you own a house?” 

“I’ve never mentioned it?” Atsumu shook his head, “Oh. Well, yeah. I bought it a year ago. I admit I was hypomanic and had some elaborate plan on doing some house renovations and reselling… It was an impulse buy. 

“Unfortunately, the episode lasted long enough for the process to go through so I couldn’t back out of buying,”

“Holy shit,” 

Kiyoomi chuckled a bit, “I’ve done dumb stuff. That’s the most dramatic though,” 

They didn’t say anything for a while. Atsumu continued packing up the containers in a bag and thought about what the hell he was going to do with all of the drugs while Kiyoomi watched with an unfocused gaze. 

“Atsumu?” Kiyoomi spoke softly. It was laced with emotion Atsumu couldn’t place while not facing him. When he turned to look at Kiyoomi he saw a dejected pout on his face. 

The sight struck fear through Atsumu, suddenly he started to worry something was happening with the drugs or maybe he had done something or- 

“I need a break,” He said equally as quietly when he saw Atsumu look back at him. 

Atsumu sat on the bed next to him, “What do you mean?” 

Kiyoomi reached up with both hands and covered his face, he scrubbed harshly at his face, “It just… Needs to stop. Everything. Life is moving so fast and I can’t keep up. I need a break from everything,” 

Atsumu didn’t know how to respond to that. He stared at the man sadly, trying to come up with a response. 

“I want this feeling to go away so badly but I don't know how to get it to stop. I tried everything, Atsumu,” he said desperately, “Drugs hide it for a while… But after… I’m back to the start, or worse. Even if I didn’t do drugs though… I’d still be at that miserable start. At least this way I have some feelings of joy. But I’m just so tired, ‘Tsumu,” 

“Omi,” He knew he sounded pathetic. His voice was pleading, for what? He didn’t know. 

“The thought of having to live like this forever kills me . It… I don’t want to live like this ‘Tsumu. I don’t want to live with the ups and downs. I don’t want to be scared of when my next episode is going to be or question whether my happiness is real or just my brain shooting too high… I don’t want to keep needing an excuse to be happy and have depression be what everyone expects,” He sighed angrily. “I just can’t express in words how exhausting my brain is,” 

Atsumu didn’t know what to do for him. He felt useless. His heart stung listening to the confessions of helplessness Kiyoomi felt but he had no clue how to comfort him. What was the right thing to say? 

“What if you took some time off? Focused on yourself?” 

Now. This suggestion was something Atsumu selfishly didn’t want to suggest. I mean, why would he want to suggest one of his best hitters leave? As a setter it would be detrimental to the team. As a boyfriend though? That’s something he thinks might be beneficial for the both of them. 

Kiyoomi tensed, “I- I couldn’t… I worke- I-” 

“Kiyoomi,” He said firmly. Efficiently cutting off the panicked rambling, “You don’t have to make a decision. It was just an idea. Think about it, yeah?” He got a hesitant nod in return.

“Okay. I’m really proud of you for making it so far, yknow? I know you’ve been through a lot. I couldn’t imagine experiencing half the stuff you’ve seen. I think yer pretty fuckin’ awesome, Kiyoomi,” He reached his hand to softly run it through the curly black hair before leaning down and leaving a kiss on his forehead. 

“I’m gonna go put this someplace safe, okay? Stay here,” Atsumu said, standing up while grabbing the bag of drugs. He left Kiyoomi’s room and pulled out his phone. 

He messaged Akaashi earlier asking if he would be able to keep something at his place. Akaashi said yes without any questions. He stopped by Bokuto’s apartment and knocked on the door quickly. Akaashi answered the door, “Atsumu,” He greeted. 

“Hi, Akaashi. Sorry ta ask this of you. I only need ya to keep this for a couple days so I can figure out what to do with it,” 

Akaashi eyed the bag. There was no way to see what was inside as he had placed a towel over all the containers to cover them. Totally not suspicious. It was a pretty big bag, hefty. 

“Do you mind me asking what it is?” He hesitantly reached out to hold the bag. 

Atsumu’s eyes shifted up and down the hallway, “Um, It’s not too important. It’ll be off yer hands soon,” 

“Honestly, I’d rather you just lie to me than say shit like that,” He deadpanned. 

“Wha-”

“Like say it’s a gift for Sakusa you didn’t want him finding or something that doesn’t sound like I’m holding pounds of drugs or I don’t know, guns,” 

Atsumu’s eyes widened at the mention of drugs, “Fucking hell, Atsumu,” He whispered. He shoved the blonde into the hallway and closed the door behind him as he walked to Atsumu’s apartment, Atsumu in tow. 

When they got to Atsumu’s door they entered and Akaashi dropped the bag on the table and put his hands on his hips.

“Alright, what the fuck? Explain.”

“Okay,” Atsumu sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “we cleaned out Kiyoomi’s apartment. I didn’t want him knowin’ where all his drugs were so I wanted to get ‘em out of his reach while I figured out what ta do with it,” 

Akaashi looked at the bag, “This is all of his drugs?” Atsumu nodded, “Atsumu, what the fuck are you going to do with all of this?” 

“I don’t know!” He stressed, “I haven’t thought that far yet!”

“Jesus…” 

“What do you suggest?” 

“This,” he gestured to the bag, “Is not my problem to get rid of. I’ll keep it in my apartment for 4 days maximum. After that, it’s in your hands,” Akaashi took the bag and left. 

Atsumu pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to force himself not to scream. He never thought he’d find himself in such a situation. It wasn’t like he could just ask people what they thought he should do. He felt like he couldn’t flush half this stuff as it would pollute the water or, like, make the fish high or something. 

He pulled out his phone and pulled up an incognito tab. 

“How to dispose of illicit drugs” 

He was not burning the drugs, that wasn’t an option. 

Flushing pills and powders… he sighed in defeat, he might have to resort to it…

Hiding it in kitty litter? Maybe if he had a cat… 

Return pills to a pharmacy…

He thought about the last one for a while. If he put all the pills in a bottle and gave them the bottle in a bag and dashed without telling them anything, covering his face… He might get away with that one… 

There has to be some kind of confidentiality code there, right? He’ll put that in his back pocket. 

Check if your local law enforcement has a drug drop program. 

Now, that sounds like a trap. No way do law enforcement just let you drop off drugs and get away with it? As a program? 

Atsumu’s head snapped up from his phone as he heard his front door open. Kiyoomi walked in with a frown on his face, “You good?” Atsumu asked. 

“You left,” 

Atsumu looked around the room, “Yeah, told ya I was going to put the drugs away,” 

Kiyoomi was picking at his nails, “Did you already do it?” 

“Yes?” 

“Where?” 

“The whole point is so you don’t know where, Omi,” Atsumu sighed. He turned off his phone and watched Kiyoomi look around the room subtly as he started scratching at his arms under the sleeves of his hoodie.

“I changed my mind. I need some… stuff,” He muttered, as he started to walk around the apartment cautiously. 

Atsumu felt his face contort, he didn’t like where this was headed, “Um, how about you come sit down for a second? We can talk for a bit and-” 

“No! Atsumu. I just-” He exhaled, trying to calm the rage that was bubbling under the surface. He clenched his fists at his sides, “I just need something. Just one more time. I swear to you. I haven’t had it in so long, I- I need one hit… It’ll be the last I ever do it. 

“The last time I did it I didn’t know it was going to be the last so it wasn’t fair… I didn’t get a goodbye. I swear, just one,” He was begging at this point. 

“Kiyoomi… We came to an agreement. You have your crutch. You don’t need whatever you think it is you need at this moment,” Atsumu tried to speak calmly. He felt like he was talking someone off the ledge.

“Fuck, Atsumu!” Kiyoomi turned around in rage, “You don’t get it!” He looked as if he wanted to punch something, “I need it! I just need it, please. Fuck! Please. Please ‘Tsumu, just once, I promise you, I swear it won’t be anything more. I just need to feel it one more time,” He was approaching Atsumu with a heartbreaking expression. 

Atsumu felt like he was walking on eggshells. He knew Kiyoomi was in a bad headspace, he also knew he wasn’t going to give in to his begging. Seeing him so desperate over drugs of all things sent an ugly chill down his spine. 

“Kiyoomi, I don’t have anything for you. You can rip the place apart but you won't find anything. I understand this is difficult, we can deal with it together,” 

“No, we can’t. You can’t shoot me up so there’s no fucking point. You’re useless, can’t get my own fucking dope back, can’t even fuck me until I forget,” Kiyoomi threw an unused, unopen needle at him from his pocket which hit him in the chest and stormed out of the apartment. 

Atsumu picked up the needle that was on his lap and felt himself freeze. He saw a couple needles while cleaning out drawers but he didn’t touch them because he was planning on going back later to get rid of paraphernalia that was lying around. 

His assumption was that Kiyoomi saw the needles and it must’ve triggered something. Or maybe the reality of getting rid of all his drugs settled in and he was starting to feel anxious. 

The thought of Kiyoomi wanting to inject dope, heroin he assumed, made him feel sick enough to his stomach that he didn’t even register the last part of the sentence until a few seconds passed. 

Was Kiyoomi using him for sex as a way to cope? In a way the pieces fit, it bothered him how he didn’t see it before. The way Kiyoomi was acting before the encounter, the nature of the sex and the aftermath… 

Atsumu has heard about people using sex as a way of self harm. He never expected to be the one supplying though. The knowledge made him feel disgusted with himself. He regrets not stopping, not making sure Kiyoomi was in the right headspace… 

He threw the needle at the wall. The guilt was weighing on him. He had to clear that up later… 

Now, he was in a predicament. He didn’t know if he should go after Kiyoomi or give him space. He didn’t want Kiyoomi to think he didn’t trust him alone - even if the thought of him being alone right now scared him. But he also didn’t want Kiyoomi thinking he didn’t care enough to chase after him. 

Why was this so difficult? 

When he talked to Osamu this morning they ended on an overwhelmingly positive note. Osamu parting with a simple, “Call me if ya ever need me, loser,”  

Maybe it was sooner than he intended but he sure did need his brother's view. He opted out of mentioning anything this morning but he couldn’t take it anymore he needed his brother to know. 

He let the phone ring on speaker, the line picking up after only a couple rings. 

“Miss me already?” Osamu greeted with what sounded like a smug smirk. 

“Are you free? I need ta talk to ya about somethin’. Preferably if yer alone,” He said in a sort of rush. 

“Uh, yeah give me a sec,” He heard some rustling on the other end of the phone, “what’s up?” 

“I’m datin’ someone. I’ve never dealt with this shit before,” 

“Who?” 

“It’s not important!” He snapped, “I’m scared he’s doin’ somethin’ right now and-” 

“Yer being too vague here, you think he’s cheatin’ or something? Dump his ass, easy,”  Osamu said as if he was bored. 

“He’s going through something, and actin’ out and I dunn-”

“Going through something doesn’t give him the right ta act out and cheat,”

“No. Not cheatin’. He’s sick, okay? He’s got… Bipolar, and he does drugs, alright? He’s an addict,” 

“What the fuck ‘Tsumu? You getting involved with a gang or some shit? Why’re ya dating a crazy junkie?” He scoffed in disbelief. 

“Don’t call him that. You don’t know him like that, you can’t say shit like that,” 

“Well yer not really sellin’ him, are ya?” Osamu exclaimed.

“Listen. I like him a lot okay. I want this to work. He wants ta get sober, ‘n I’m tryna help him. He kind of flipped out just now and was begging me for some dope and I got rid of it for him. He’s going through a, like, depressive episode right now. I don’t know what to do. I’m scared he’ll hurt himself,” 

“Dope? Like, fuckin’ heroin? Atsumu, seriously, what the fuck? You should’ve called the cops. What did you do with the drugs? Throw him in the fuckin’ hospital, man. You shouldn't have to deal with his shit,” 

“God, you’re no help,” Atsumu groaned. He regretted calling his brother. He knew Osamu was anti drugs and didn’t know much about mental health issues but he thought he would be more open minded than this. They both grew up speaking out against drugs, shaming smokers and calling drug users gross. They were young and ignorant, but Atsumu learned how to open his mind and be less judgmental, he knew Osamu could too, “You’re being so closed minded. If you knew who it was you'd probably be more open minded,” He muttered. It was barely loud enough but Osamu heard it. 

“Do I know who it is? Is it someone on the team? Nah, y’all do drug tests, you couldn’t… Unless you fake the test for him too… Atsumu…” 

“I only did it once,”

“What the fuck. Who is it? Tell me,” 

“No,” 

“Tell me or I’ll tell the league someone on your team is usin’,” 

“‘Samu, you fucking wouldn’t,” 

“You underestimate me,” 

“I hate you. Yer a fucking prick, you know that,” Atsumu said through gritted teeth, his grip on his phone made his knuckles white, he sighed defeatedly, “It’s Sakusa Kiyoomi,” 

There was a short laugh on the other end of the phone, “Funny, tell me who it actually is,” 

“I’m being honest, dickhead,” 

“You want me to believe that Sakusa Kiyoomi, one of the most level headed people on your team, is a bipolar junkie who somehow fell for you. Nice try,” 

“You know I’ve had a crush on him for a long time,” Atsumu whined childishly, “and stop callin’ him that,”

“I’m not gonna believe ya. That’s fucking ridiculous,” 

“This call was useless. I should check on him,” Atsumu sighed. 

Osamu scoffed, “Leave me on. I need ta hear this. There’s no fuckin’ way Sakusa is involved with ya,” 

Atsumu reluctantly agreed but warned him that he would end the call soon after the confirmation so as to not exploit their conversation without Kiyoomi’s knowledge. Atsumu knew he already fucked up enough telling his brother Kiyoomi’s name in his need for advice. They had just settled a conflict for this same issue, Atsumu’s big mouth. 

Atsumu slipped the phone in his front pocket and made his way to Kiyoomi’s apartment. He knocked twice before letting himself in, the door thankfully left unlocked. “Omi?” He spoke into the seemingly empty apartment. 

He made his way through the dark apartment into the bedroom where only the bedside lamp was on and curtains were shut. There was a human sized lump under the covers and Kiyoomi’s pill bottles of recreational and prescribed pills lined up on the bedside table. All of them closed and looked untouched. 

“Omi,” He repeated as he approached the bed. 

“I’m sorry,” A wobbly voice came out muffled by the blankets. Atsumu dragged the desk chair next to the bed and sat down, “I’m sorry for acting like that. I’m… Gross,” He turned around to face Atsumu. 

Atsumu noted the blotchy face. His eyes didn’t seem to have tears but his voice seemed unstable, “You’re not gross,” he murmured, lips turned downward as he reached out to push the blanket out of Kiyoomi’s face. 

“I don’t know if I can do this sober, Atsumu. Why is this so hard? It’s so stupid. Why can’t I just be fucking happy? I don’t want to want drugs. I fucking hate that I’m so dependant on them to make me feel okay,” He dug his palms into his eyes. 

“Have you ever thought of getting help?” Atsumu suggested slowly, he didn’t want to sound like he suggested the stupidest thing or something that would turn Kiyoomi off coming to Atsumu when things got difficult. 

During Atsumu’s quest and deep dive into the world of drugs and addiction he had come across a ted talk which spoke about addiction and the importance of connection and community. Atsumu knew he couldn’t be the only person in Kiyoomi’s life to be here for him, to show him love and show him care. He just didn’t know how to get Kiyoomi to see the importance. 

The last thing he wanted to do was sound preachy. He didn’t want to start talking at Kiyoomi about how to manage his addiction as if he knew more than him. Realistically he didn’t know what the man knew about recovery. He didn’t know if Kiyoomi was aware of the scientific research and studies done in order to understand how to help those who are struggling. He didn’t know if Kiyoomi wanted to know. 

“Help,” Kiyoomi deadpanned. 

“Like, a support group maybe?” Atsumu suppressed his cringe at the insecurity in his own voice. 

“You want me to go to a stupid NA group? And hear people whine about their problems? Cry about how drugs ruined their lives but how much they love it?” Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, “I do that enough myself. I don’t need to hear other people do it too,” 

“How ‘bout we go to one? Together?” Atsumu tried again. 

Kiyoomi squinted his eyes at him, “If you wanna go so bad, go yourself,” 

“Think about it?” He asked gently as a last resort. He didn’t want to push the matter any further than that. 

“Whatever,” Kiyoomi mumbled scratching lightly at his face. He turned around under the blanket facing away from Atsumu. 

Atsumu suddenly remembered about his phone in his pocket and his eyes widened. He hopes to god Osamu had some respect and hung up after hearing and confirming it was indeed Kiyoomi. He pulled out his phone and saw the call was still connected. He closed his eyes, calming his rage and clicked the red button, finally ending the call. Stupid nosy brother. 

He saw the notifications from his brother but ignored them, knowing his anger would overtake him in his responses and it wouldn’t be pretty. 

He glanced at Kiyoomi who laid under the blankets, he probably wasn’t going to get much more out of him today. He stood up ready to leave the room, giving the man his space. He resisted the urge to take the pills on the side table with him not wanting to show the distrust he may feel inside. 

“I’m proud of you for what you did today,” He whispered loud enough for Kiyoomi to hear. He saw the lump on the bed move slightly but then still. He didn’t know if he should stay in the apartment with Kiyoomi or go back to his own. He didn’t want to impose but he felt bad leaving him like this. 

“I’ll be in the living room for the next 15 minutes. If you want me to stay here in the apartment you can send me a text or just a random tiktok or instagram post so you don’t have to say anything. If you don’t, then I’ll leave. But I’ll be next door with my phone on if you need me. For anything,” 

With that said he left the bedroom door slightly ajar and made his way to the couch to sit anxiously for the next 15 minutes. After ten minutes of staring at his phone Lock Screen he started to lose hope. Then, he got a tiktok notification. He immediately opened the app and saw it was indeed from Kiyoomi with no text attached. As for the video, it was random people making a joke tutorial video on how to piss off your setter. 

Atsumu liked the video sent in the chat to let Kiyoomi know he got it and went to the kitchen to boil some water for tea. He decided to whip up a quick lunch as well. He wasn’t sure if he was going to eat it but there was no harm in trying, right? 

Thirty minutes later he sent a quick text to warn Kiyoomi that he was coming into the room with food, he knocked and pushed the door open. He saw Kiyoomi’s face poking out from the blankets being illuminated by the light of his phone. The phone turned off upon seeing Atsumu enter the room and Atsumu turned on the overhead light. 

“Hey,” He said simply. Kiyoomi watched him silently as he made room on the side table and placed his food down with a cup of Kiyoomi’s favourite tea, “made ya some stuff. Don’t worry about eatin’ it all, but you should try to eat somethin’, yeah?” 

Kiyoomi’s brows furrowed and he hid his face in the covers staring at the plate of food. He watched as Atsumu gave him a small smile and left him alone once again. 

Kiyoomi felt some hole in his chest rip him apart, he debated snorting another line since the first pill didn’t seem to do enough of numbing him. The acts of service that Atsumu did for him were too much, it felt like he was using up all his freebies or he was soon going to have to pay them all back with interest. He didn’t know how he was going to do that. He didn’t understand how a proper relationship worked, what was he supposed to do, how was he supposed to respond? 

He held himself back from begging the man to stay with him when he brought the food to him unprompted. The gesture meant a lot to him even if he didn't express his gratitude as he wished he did. He wanted Atsumu to stay with him, even if he was pushing him away. He wanted him to see that he was begging him to stay inside, but he understood that the man wasn't a mind reader, he was trying to respect what he thought Kiyoomi wanted.

Normally during his depressive episodes it would either be starve or order take out food and have the garbage pile grossly on the floor until his ant family would invade again. The ants in this room when he had an episode always have a field day. He doesn’t understand how they do it. He let it get really bad once then after he got rid of them all, if he were to drop a crumb they would all come back tenfold as if it would summon another pile of compost.

He sat up and pulled the plate onto his lap and started eating. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until that first bite. He ate slowly, relishing in the taste and appreciating how it even came to be. 

He couldn’t help the creeping thought that he needed to be better. He couldn’t keep putting Atsumu through this. He was being one of the top ten worst boyfriends. It was only a matter of time before he would come to his senses and dump him. 

Maybe he should go to an NA meeting. He knew in theory how they worked. He knew he wouldn’t have to share anything if he didn’t want to… Atsumu even offered to go with him, because he’s that great of a boyfriend. He banged his head against the backboard in frustration. He was going to have to go to a stupid meeting, wasn’t he? Fuck.

Chapter Text

If it were a couple years ago when Kiyoomi neglected his medication, he’s convinced this would’ve been quite a bad depressive episode. 

Maybe the pharmaceutical companies weren’t all money grabbing schemes – comparatively his episodes weren’t nearly as long as they used to be. From past experience, his episodes would last for weeks, maybe a month or two. Regarding the intensity of his depression, there was a slight improvement. It was nowhere near where he wanted it to be but he was able to at least handle more on his plate and not completely fall apart when he was depressed. Still, considering how shitty he feels now he doesn’t really want to know how bad he would feel off of them. 

All that being said, he was able to shake himself out of the cocoon he found himself in during the weekend and accompanied Atsumu to practice. It went by excruciatingly slowly. He was physically exhausted, despite resting the past two days. Mentally he couldn’t keep up with anyone, everything was going in one ear and out another but he still got up and made it. 

At the end of practice his heart sank as Coach Foster called him over to meet him in his office. He looked over at Atsumu in a desperate plea for help but the man was too busy with practicing his serves to notice. He had to deal with whatever this was by himself. 

He took a few deep breaths trying to calm his racing heart. He knocked on the office door before pushing it open and greeting his superior. Coach Foster gestured to him to sit down across from him. His face didn’t do anything to calm his nerves, if anything it amplified his stomach knots and dry mouth. 

Neither of them said anything, Coach Foster sat back in his chair, eyes never leaving Kiyoomi. He couldn’t keep the eye contact he was being given. It was piercing, burning into him with unspoken words that Kiyoomi didn’t want to decipher. 

“Sakusa,” He finally said, clearing his throat, “You know I’m glad to see you back on the court,” Kiyoomi could feel the ‘but’ from a mile away, “The team isn’t the same without you. You know that, don’t you?” 

Kiyoomi was tense, “Yes sir,” 

Coach Foster sighed and fixed his glasses, “What’s going on with you?” It was blunt. A way of communication Kiyoomi normally loved, but right now he wished his coach was anything but. 

“I’m sorry Coach. I was sick and– It just– My body is not good with repairing itself. You know this, right? My hypermobility? It affects my immunization as well…”

“Kiyoomi. If there’s something more going on, other than sickness, you can tell me. We have insurance for psychologists…” Kiyoomi felt betrayed. Had someone gone behind his back and told the coach that he was mentally unstable? 

“What? Why would you say–” 

“Any life roadblocks can cause us to feel down. It’s okay to reach out for help. If you lost someone or just need a place to get stuff off your chest I can set something up,” 

Kiyoomi felt a little bit more at ease, it seemed that Coach Foster just thought something happened in his life to create some kind of stress. This was fine, he could deal with that, play into that. He believes he’s pretty good at lying. 

“Right. A few things happened in the past little while, family and all that. I’ll think about it, Coach. Thank you,” He gave him a courtesy nod and stood up to leave.

“Sakusa,” He sat back down upon hearing his name, “I’m always here if you need to tell me something as well. Psychologists are daunting but I think something needs to be done. You’ve missed many practices and your playing has been off,” He sighed deeply looking at the player sincerely. 

“What are you saying?” He asked in a panic. Was this the way he was going to get fired? He couldn’t afford to get fired. He didn’t have any other passion, no motivation for anything other than volleyball. This was what got him through his weeks, through his life… 

“I need something, Kiyoomi. You need to give me a plan of what we’re going to do so we can get you up and running again. We can’t brush this under the rug,” 

Kiyoomi weighed his options. He didn’t really know exactly what they were but he couldn’t stop thinking about what he told Atsumu the other day, that he needed a break, “I–” His voice broke and he felt his throat close up, “Sorry,” he whispered. 

Coach Foster moved the tissue box closer to Kiyoomi, letting him know it was okay to show his emotions. He was listening attentively, he wanted to help. 

“I lied,” Kiyoomi broke, reaching for a tissue to help cover his face. He wished he was wearing his mask, he hated having his full face on display right now, “when I was first hired, on the intake forms, they asked if I was ever diagnosed with a mental illness… I said no. I lied,” his breathing was shaky but Coach Foster continued to listen with a neutral expression. 

“I was scared you weren’t going to hire me. I couldn’t risk it. It’s all just becoming too much. Not volleyball or the job just – everything,” Kiyoomi doesn’t know why he felt so comfortable sharing this with his coach. He couldn’t even think about the repercussions this may have. He hasn’t been to a therapist in so long he forgot what it was like to just talk about things out loud that wasn’t to his boyfriend, “I was doing stupid stuff… I hurt people around me, myself… I just– I know I can’t keep this up,” 

“Alright, Kiyoomi. We’ll get you to a psychologist as soon as we can. As for the forms you filled out when you got hired – those questions weren’t to weed out who to hire or not. Depression and anxiety as well as eating disorders and body image issues aren’t uncommon. We’re trained to deal with it, but you have to be honest with us,” 

Kiyoomi gnawed on his lip, “What if it’s more than that?” He couldn’t reach his coach’s eye. The quiet he was met with was an obvious sign for him to elaborate. He breathed in deeply, fuck it, “I have Bipolar disorder,” he debated opening up about his substance use disorder too… would that be too much? Would he be instantly kicked off the team? “Type 2,” he said quickly instead. 

Coach Foster seemed to be in deep thought as he mulled over Kiyoomi’s words, “Unmedicated? I don’t remember your file stating any medication…” 

“I’m medicated,” He whispered. He prepared himself for the worst. He assumed he was aware of the influence psychiatric medication could have on drug tests, and Kiyoomi has passed every test to date. 

“I’m going to need a bit of an explanation here, Sakusa,” He said it firmly enough to cause Kiyoomi’s heart to drop.

As Kiyoomi was about to try and explain himself there was a knock on the office door. Kiyoomi sank further in the chair he sat on as he heard Coach Foster tell whoever it was to come in. 

“Hi Coach. Was just lookin’ for Sakusa,” Atsumu’s voice was heard throughout the small room. Kiyoomi turned around to face the man who was standing in the door frame with an easy going smile. 

“I see y’all are talking so I’ll leave ya to it. I’ll text ya alright, Omi?” He grabbed the door handle to close it behind him. 

Before the blonde could escape Kiyoomi sat up abruptly, “Wait! Um. Coach? Do you mind if Miya just sits here when we talk? I’d just be more comfortable…” Atsumu seemed slightly alarmed as he walked back into the office slowly. 

Coach Foster sighed but shrugged, “I assume he knows?” Kiyoomi nodded. Atsumu sat down next to Kiyoomi waiting for an explanation. 

He looked between the two of them nervously, “Anythin’ I can do?” He asked, wringing his hands together. 

“I told him about my bipolar,” Kiyoomi murmured. Atsumu froze but nodded looking over at their coach only to see him expressionless, “As I was saying, I am medicated. It helps with the severity and length of my episodes. I withheld the medical information from my profile,” 

“As you’ve said, yes. I’m sure you’re aware of how medications and drug tests can interact though, am I wrong?” He said sternly. 

Atsumu had reached out a hand out of sight of their coach to rub soothing circles on Kiyoomi’s knee. 

“I do. I’ve done regretful things in order to keep my diagnosis a secret… I was scared of getting kicked off the team for something I have under control. I know not everyone will hire someone with a diagnosis like mine,” 

Coach Foster leaned back in his chair and looked up in the corner of the room in silence. The longer the silence stretched out the more nauseous Kiyoomi felt. Atsumu was doing his best at grounding him, drawing circles and squiggles on his thigh to get his mind focused on something. 

It felt impossible to think about anything else other than your entire career imploding. When he was younger he would think about playing volleyball on the big stage, big leagues, with big names… He wishes he could go back to those days and tell himself to enjoy them more. 

He wishes he enjoyed the days when he first fell in love with the sport. When everything was new and exciting. Those were the days when he was oblivious to the creeping cloud of depression on the horizon. He had no clue that the joy and excitement would suddenly feel so dull, that everything would feel so dull. Don’t get him wrong, it was still the thing in his life that brought him the most amount of fulfilment in his everyday life but it wasn’t saying much. 

When that first major depressive episode hit he almost quit volleyball. He sometimes wonders what would’ve happened had he gone through with that social withdrawal. Would have he stayed away from volleyball for good or found his way back eventually? If he quit back then would he have been completely submerged in his addiction and get disowned by his family? 

Maybe he would have found a new interest once the fog lifted and never gotten into drugs in the first place. Maybe he would be living a nine to five with a wife and kids… He would be miserable but his parents would be proud. 

Had he appreciated the days where depression hadn’t enveloped him, how would it leave him today? His younger self was so serious, too meticulous. If he let go a bit, appreciated it all, would he still be so miserable today? Or would have he learned skills to find good in mundane things and adapt that into when life gets hard? 

It was so easy to live life in the what if’s and why’s he constantly found himself stuck in. Everytime he found himself caught in this cycle he couldn’t help but scold himself. Logically he knew he couldn’t change the past. It’s interesting to think about what may have happened but dwelling on it and overthinking it did nothing but make yourself feel worse now and possibly the future. 

Right now the only future Kiyoomi needed to think about was what was going to happen after Coach Foster said whatever he was brewing up in his mind. Kiyoomi knew he fucked up, it was out in the open now. It was implied that Kiyoomi faked his drug tests. His coach knew about his mental instability…

The confession of his drug use was clawing at the back of his throat. It was a confession that would cause him damage that might not be repairable. It felt so good telling people he wasn’t okay though. It was as if he was flagging down a stranger in the desert who happened to have litres of water, he’s been walking for weeks – he’s dehydrated beyond words. 

“Okay Sak–”

“Wait,” Kiyoomi interrupted, “I’m sorry. I have one more thing to say before you say anything more. I–” He choked up. Clearing his throat he tried again, “I also struggle with substance use disorder,” He whispered. His head was hung low, eyes tracking the hand on his thigh. 

“Oh,” Coach Foster said, his voice full of surprise. It was the most emotive he’s been the entire time. 

“I understand this is extremely unprofessional and I understand if you want to fire me. I do love this job and being on this team has meant the world to me and I couldn’t thank you any more for the opportunity…” Kiyoomi began ranting out of nervousness. 

Atsumu tightened his grip on his thigh, “Omi,” He whispered trying to get the man to breathe a bit and let Coach Foster talk.  

“I can put in my resignation if you don’t want the media to take it and run… Please don’t let this get out to the public though. I can’t have people know,” Kiyoomi’s eyes were welling up with tears as he spewed whatever came to his mind. He couldn’t focus on anything but his career getting flushed down the drain. 

Before he knew it Atsumu was leaning in front of him directly in his line of sight, the ground. The blonde’s hands were resting comfortingly on his knees, “Kiyoomi, you said everything you could’ve said. Let’s go get some air. Can you stand up with me?” With a barely visible nod Kiyoomi allowed himself to be tugged up off the chair. 

He stared at the ground, he felt so empty. He didn’t know how else to describe the feeling, it was a hollow sense numbness in his chest. 

Fresh air hit his face as they stepped foot outside. It was jarring, like a slap in the face since he wasn’t really expecting it. The air was chilly, enough to warrant a sweater or small coat. They were only in their work out gear and drying sweat so it felt a bit colder than it probably was. 

Atsumu turned to face Kiyoomi. He brushed some hair behind the taller man's ear and urged him to look at him. Kiyoomi reluctantly locked eyes with him and received a small smile filled with sympathy, “You’re amazing,” He said quietly. Kiyoomi shook his head and averted his eyes downwards once again. Atsumu hooked a finger under his chin and tilted his head back up, “No matter what happens, I think you’re braver and stronger than all the other athletes out there. I don’t think any of them could do what you do. I don’t think they could’ve done what you did just now,” 

Kiyoomi closed his eyes in order to avoid eye contact since Atsumu held his head still. A tear involuntarily ran down his cheek, he felt a rush of humiliation drape over him. Before he could pull away from Atsumu’s grasp he felt a kiss where the fantom tear track ran down his cheek. He exhaled shakily, submitting to Atsumu’s affection. A few more kisses were peppered on his face, his temples, forehead and finally his nose. Kiyoomi scrunched his face but felt himself relax as Atsumu murmured words of affirmation between each kiss. 

When he finished he pulled back to finally make eye contact once again, Kiyoomi finally able to hold it. 

“No matter what happens, I’ll be right here, okay, love?” Kiyoomi nodded, his hollow being erupting with butterflies, as if he were in high school again. 

They walked back into the building, Atsumu kissed Kiyoomi’s hand once before letting go completely. They knocked on Coach Foster’s door letting him know they were back. 

“Sakusa, Miya,” He greeted. They nodded in return, wishing he would get to the point, “You’ve put me in a tough spot here,” 

Kiyoomi started fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt.

Coach Foster sighed before muttering, “I don’t know where to even start,” Kiyoomi closed his eyes and waited for the two words ‘ you’re fired’ to reach his ears, they never came. “I’m going to start off by saying that you aren’t fired yet. You will, however, be taking time off. We can pay for rehab and a psychologist, if you get clean and are successfully cleared to come back,” 

Kiyoomi hated the term clean in reference to his sobriety but he wasn’t about to go off on his coach about how using drugs didn’t make him dirty to begin with. 

“As for your mental health, the psychologist will be a weekly requirement. They will update us on your wellbeing and your ability to play. If they think something is wrong you’ll be pulled from any matches–” 

“What?” Kiyoomi couldn’t help but exclaim. Atsumu turned to look at the man in alarm and reached over to grab his hand. 

“You can’t jus-” 

“Omi,” Atsumu whispered. Kiyoomi choked on his words as he heard the nickname spoken softly beside him. He had to calm down or he risked looking even more unstable. He muttered an apology and allowed his coach to continue talking. 

“Sakusa. The end of this year and next year is very important for your career. I’m not supposed to be telling anyone this but I have faith you two won’t say anything. I’m only sharing this because I have such high hopes for you Kiyoomi… The Men’s National Volleyball team is going to start scouting next year. You are obviously on their list as I’m sure you’re aware, but it’s crucial that you are in top form for when they start scouting or they’ll drop you quickly,” 

“Fuck…” Kiyoomi muttered under his breath. 

“I know the good rehabs around here have waitlists… But I'll see what I can do. Now, go home and figure your shit out. If it’s too much for you or you don’t want to get clean then tell me and we’ll terminate your contract,” he said firmly. Kiyoomi felt his heart drop. 

Atsumu stood up pulling Kiyoomi with him, “Thank you Coach. We won’t tell anyone about this. Thank you for giving Kiyoomi a chance. We’ve been working on his sobriety, slowly but surely,” Atsumu reassured, guiding Kiyoomi out the door. Coach Foster nodded in response and let the two men leave. 

They changed and went home as quickly as they could. When they got to Kiyoomi’s door Atsumu had assumed they were going to walk by and go to his place but he stopped when Kiyoomi pulled out his keys and unlocked his door. 

“Oh, we’re goin’ to yours?” He asked. 

Kiyoomi looked over his shoulder as he stepped through the door frame, “I’m going to bed. Bye,” He attempted to close the door only to close it on Atsumu’s foot, “Move your foot please,” he murmured, hitting the door against his shoe softly in an attempt to close it. 

“Do you want to be alone right now?” Atsumu asked with a disappointment etched on his face. Kiyoomi shrugged his shoulders, looking down as he continued to repeatedly hit Atsumu’s shoe softly with the door, “I was thinking we have a shower together and then cuddle a bit,” 

Kiyoomi bit his lip anxiously, “Does that mean sex?” 

“If you don’t want to, then obviously not, love,” Atsumu moved his foot out from between the door and the frame and watched as Kiyoomi held the door open a bit wider, “We can do whatever you want. I’m not picky,” 

“I’m just going to bring down your mood,” 

“You can steal some of my good mood if it means we can be on the same level,” Atsumu tilted his head with an easy soft smile. Kiyoomi turned around and walked into his apartment leaving the door open, an invitation. 

As they stepped into the washroom to get ready for their shower Atsumu noticed Kiyoomi trying to discreetly take a pill. Atsumu turned away from it, breathing in to calm the ugly feelings surfacing. 

He just didn’t fully understand. He wanted to understand so badly. He wanted to see this relapse and have his first reaction be to respond with compassion and sympathy. It was frustration and slight bitterness he felt at first glance. Of course, the more he sat with the feelings they morphed into worried and empathetic understandings. 

He doesn’t know how he could ever truly understand the workings of Kiyoomi’s brain in regards to his substance use disorder. Just like he’ll never understand the brain of a rocket scientist. In theory, he could learn, be it study intensely for years until he reaches that level of academics and just maybe he could understand . Maybe. He could start taking benzos everyday and centre his whole world around the pills until he felt like he couldn’t go a day without them. Even still that wouldn’t guarantee an addiction – a physical dependance on the substance, sure, but an addiction was a different kind of dependance. 

It was so easy for Atsumu to look at Kiyoomi taking a pill and think ‘ just don’t take the pill’. He simply didn’t understand the compulsive need for the high. By now he understood one reason for his substance use – the coping mechanism component. Kiyoomi has helped him understand this through his own stories and his own mental breakdowns, essentially. All Atsumu could think was ‘find a new coping skill’. It’s not like there’s no other coping skills in the book. 

He hated that he was so judgemental. Maybe it was the fact that he’s never tried drugs before. He didn’t know what was so exciting about being under the influence of drugs. Sure, he understood alcohol but that was different, alcohol was fun, allows you to let loose!  He still wasn’t able to wrap his head around drugs being the same, they were just so different in his mind… 

“Kiyoomi?” Atsumu said, turning on the shower. The other man turned to him with a questioning look, “You can tell me when you take pills. I want to know so I know if anything happens,” He paused, “The water is ready,” 

Kiyoomi stared at Atsumu as he leaned against the counter shirtless, “Do you have a pill sensor or something alerting you when I take one out of the bottle?” 

Atsumu turned to look at him before shedding his pants and boxers in one go. He shrugged, “Yer just not as discreet as ya think,” He nodded to the water, “Come on,” Kiyoomi followed behind, stepping into the shower and reaching over to the dial to turn the heat up a tad, “You tryna scold us?” Atsumu scoffed.

“I just took xanax,” Kiyoomi whispered as he squirted some shampoo onto his hands and reached up to rub it through Atsumu’s hair. 

“How does that affect you?” Atsumu asked, closing his eyes to the feeling. 

“Calms my mind, just… helps me relax, lowers my worries and cares… Helps me sleep when I want to,” he murmured. 

“Nothing else helps to do that?” Kiyoomi was silent as he washed the shampoo out of Atsumu’s hair, “Tea? Meditation?” He tried after Kiyoomi started to lather his hair with conditioner. 

“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi said clearly as a warning that he was toeing a conversation he was uncomfortable with. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m just thinking about what Coach said,'' Atsumu placed his hands on Kiyoomi’s waist and looked up at him. The other man staring daggers at the conditioner he was overly rubbing into his hair. 

“I don’t want to think about what Coach said right now. Why do you think I took the fucking xanax?” It wasn’t said maliciously, he spoke softly, the explicit rolling off his tongue as if he were speaking a regular word one would say to a child. He was calm, concentrating on washing the conditioner out of Atsumu’s hair. 

“Right. What can I do for you right now then?” he asked, pulling him in closer by the waist. He wasn’t trying to initiate anything sexual, he just wanted him close. 

“Let me wash you,” Atsumu shivered at the way Kiyoomi said it and he nodded. He grabbed the cloth and handed it to Kiyoomi allowing him to lather it with soap to begin. 

Atsumu was always sensitive to touch. It was one of the reasons he refused to get a  full body massage, he knew he would get a boner and he didn’t want to deal with that awkwardness. So when Kiyoomi was washing him he tried to will away his growing arousal as Kiyoomi didn’t seem like he wanted anything sexual. 

He failed. His semi was obvious and he felt terrible once Kiyoomi set his eyes upon it. He felt as if he betrayed his boyfriend’s trust by sexualizing something that was supposed to be sweet. 

Cw: smut - to save your brain cells go to next bolded sentence

Tags: (guided(?) masturbation, minor daddy kink at the end lol, power play, orgasm control. Idk how to tag smut, may be wrong but you get the point) 

“Ignore it. I tried to make it stop, I swear. I’m sorry,” Atsumu instinctively covered himself with his hands. 

“How am I supposed to clean you if you get too excited?” Kiyoomi had the faintest of a smile playing on his lips. He reached down and grabbed one of the hands Atsumu was using to cover himself and pulled it aside, “Don’t hide yourself. It’s okay. I don’t mind. Though, you’re going to have to clean yourself it seems,” Atsumu covered his face with one of his hands, his ears felt as if they were on fire. 

Kiyoomi reached for the bottle of soap and grabbed Atsumu’s dominant hand, squirting a bit in his palm, “Why don’t you clean your pretty cock for me?” 

“Oh – whatthefuck,” Atsumu whispered as he reached for his dick with his soaped up hand. He felt hazy with lust, the submission coming naturally as he wrapped a hand around himself and started to touch himself for Kiyoomi to watch lazily. 

Kiyoomi was flaccid as he watched Atsumu stroke himself. He had one hand against the blonde’s upper ribs, thumb rubbing the underside of his pec, close enough to his nipple to leave Atsumu yearning for his hand to be an inch higher. Kiyoomi’s other hand was draped around Atsumu’s neck, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. 

Atsumu’s spare hand was holding onto Kiyoomi’s arm as a crutch, his fingers digging into the pale skin. The unbothered look on Kiyoomi’s face was driving him crazy. He never thought he was into this kind of power play but he was rock solid at the fact Kiyoomi seemed bored and unaroused. 

“I thought you said no sex,” Atsumu panted. 

Kiyoomi shrugged, “I don’t want to do anything with myself. I could watch you come anytime though. You look so good,” His voice dropped an octave dripping for a more seductive effect as he casted him a sultry look. Atsumu shuddered, his eyes fluttering closed. Suddenly the thumb under his pec ran over his nipple and his shoulders jolted inwards as if to shield himself, a whimper pathetically escaping him involuntarily. 

“Omi,” Atsumu ended up whining as a thumb swirled around his nipple, nail digging in only to smooth it out and flick it as if he were controlling a game controller. 

“I didn’t tell you to stop touching yourself,” Kiyoomi mused, noticing the hand wrapped around his dick was idle, squeezing the base. 

Atsumu hung his head and started to glide his hand up and down his shaft once again, “What are you thinking about?” Kiyoomi murmured, the hand not playing with his nipple slowly sliding down the side of Atsumu’s figure. Fingers dipping through every divot and curve. When he reached his hip he slid his hand around back and caressed the man's butt, teasing his hole. Atsumu made a stutter step as he moved closer to Kiyoomi, his jaw slack, unable to keep back his obvious panting and needy moans. 

“You. Yer hands. God– fuck,” He gasped, as Kiyoomi laid an open mouth kiss to his collar bone, “the way ya don’t look bothered or turned on. Fuck– isso hot. I like ya tellin’ me what to do. I want ya ta use me, tell me I’m pretty, that I’m doin’ good fer you,” Atsumu felt his inhibitions lower as the teeth against his skin bit and sucked. 

Kiyoomi hummed, trailing kisses up his neck until he reached his ear. He nibbled on his earlobe, hand gripped the lean muscle of his ass and tugged him a bit closer, “Mm is that so?” Atsumu nodded. The blonde’s head felt heavy as he let it fall on the taller man’s shoulder. His hand focused near the head of his dick, grip tightening, “You want me to call you a good boy? Tell you how pretty you look with your hand around your cock? How good you sound when you’re all pent up and needy? Maybe you want to know how pretty your cock looks? All red and leaking, ready to burst at any moment. Is that true, baby boy? Do you need to come?” 

The words were spoken softly into Atsumu’s ear. They made him shiver, tingles spread through the back of his skull, down his spine and bursted into his lower stomach, pushing him closer to the edge. He felt his knees buckle, he choked out a sob as he dug his fingers even harder into the arm playing relentlessly with his nipple. 

“Omi, Omi-Omi,” He said as a prayer.

“I didn’t say you could come yet, baby,” Kiyoomi smirked watching Atsumu’s hand stutter around his cock. He slowed his pace which was obviously leading to his inevitable release, “That’s it,” he chuckled. He abandoned the nipple to reach down to the blonde’s dick, he let the head rest on his index finger and he gently rubbed the slit with his thumb. Atsumu gasped, his head thrown back as he bit his lip, “If the water wasn’t washing all your precome away I could only imagine how wet you’d be,” 

“Please,” Atsumu begged softly. Kiyoomi looked up and locked eyes with his glazed over ones. He cocked his head and smirked, raising his eyebrows teasingly as if asking him to elaborate on his plea, “Please let me come, Omi,” He gasped. 

Kiyoomi leaned over to kiss him, their lips sliding together messily. The taller of the two dragged his hand down to grope Atsumu’s balls. He rolled them around softly before pulling back from the kiss, “Come for me,” He whispered against his lips. He pressed one last kiss to their slick red lips before he simply rested his forehead against the other’s so he could look down between them at the throbbing cock being stroked to completion. 

Atsumu was panting, small grunts occasionally leaving his mouth. Kiyoomi rubbed a hand up and down his hip as the other continued to grope his balls and reach down to his perineum to add pressure. 

“Omi,” He whispered. 

“That’s it, baby, go on. Give me a show,” 

“Fuck,” A whimper, “Omi, Omi – fuck,” He trembled as he tipped face first into a wave of euphoric pleasure. Rambles of moans, and grunts tumbled from his mouth, a mixture of “Omi,”, “Fuck,”, “Yes,” and a surprise wail of, “Daddy,” peak orgasm. 

Kiyoomi was caught off guard but didn’t stop his movement as it didn’t seem that Atsumu realized or acknowledged the word he spoke. When Atsumu was shaking from after shocks Kiyoomi reached up to comb hair out of the blonde's face and pulled his head into his neck. He muttered a few praises lightly scratching his nails up and down his back. Atsumu pulled back after a minute and stole a quick kiss from the other man with a shy smile.

“You good?” Kiyoomi asked, unwrapping his arm from his waist. He reached for his shampoo and started lathering up his own hair which he has still yet to do. Atsumu nodded, humming. “So, ‘daddy’ huh?” he asked with a small smirk. 

Atsumu’s eyes widened, “Sorry, it was an accident. I didn’t mean– Ya kept callin’ me baby and I dunno why my mind just–”

“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi chuckled, effectively shutting him up, “It’s fine. I just didn’t know you were into that. It almost made me hard, to be fair. So trust me, I’m not judging you,” 

Atsumu visibly relaxed, “Oh god, I thought you were gonna call me a freak,” 

“Do you remember who you’re talking to,” Kiyoomi scoffed. 

Atsumu rolled his eyes, watching as Kiyoomi conditioned his hair, “Can I ask why you didn’t get hard? Should I be insecure about something, or?” 

Kiyoomi frowned, “Don’t be stupid. I wasn’t in the mood to get off, first of all. Second, some benzos make it hard for me to get it up,” He mumbled it as if he was embarrassed. 

Atsumu nodded, “Oh. Got it,”

“You seemed to think it was hot though,” 

“Fuck off,” 

Kiyoomi chuckled and finished washing himself before turning off the shower. As Kiyoomi’s chuckle died out, Atsumu realized how quickly his smile fell. One thing Atsumu loved when Kiyoomi chuckled or laughed was the lingering smile on his face, invisible to those who don’t know him well enough. The fact that the smile didn’t hold made his stomach turn. 

They ended up cuddling in Kiyoomi’s room. Atsumu had a playlist Kiyoomi made for him back when they first started dating playing aloud while he scrolled aimlessly on his phone. Kiyoomi rested his eyes on Atsumu’s chest, their legs entangled. 

“Random question,” Atsumu said suddenly. Kiyoomi turned his head and attempted to look up at him, “are you more of a top or a bottom? Or like dom or sub?” he sat up slightly making Kiyoomi groan at the change of position. 

Kiyoomi had to readjust but was now able to look at Atsumu properly as he answered. He didn’t really know how exactly to answer without having to talk about his exes which is not something he typically likes. However, the xanax he took made his lips loose, he would practically share anything in times like this. 

“That’s kind of a complicated question, honestly. My exes made me feel like I had to like being a submissive bottom. Before that I always hooked up with whoever and did whatever they preferred. I didn’t have a preference. After the first time someone ever… Did something to me, being submissive, started feeling kind of scary? If it was a guy I’d never met before or he kind of looked similar to them then it made me panic a bit,” Atsumu frowned deeply. 

“None of that sounds like you ever really had a say in what you liked,” Atsumu pointed out. 

Kiyoomi thought for a second, “No, I guess not. I’ve had good experiences both ways. Though, the more I think about my sexual experiences the more uncomfortable I get with the thought of being submissive. But I remember really liking being submissive and bottoming before everything happened,” Kiyoomi looked upset at the fact he couldn’t enjoy what he once did. 

Atsumu didn’t expect this conversation to take such a turn. He just wanted to know how he should approach sex in the future but it seems there might be more to consider. He knew Kiyoomi had sexual trauma but he never thought it would be so embedded in the way he had sex. 

“Okay, but do ya like being dominant and topping?” Atsumu wanted to clarify. 

Kiyoomi tightened his grip on his midriff, “It makes me feel safer,” he whispered. 

Atsumu’s hand found its way to Kiyoomi’s back, he rubbed softly while he looked up at the ceiling in thought, “Doesn’t really answer the question,” 

Kiyoomi tucked his head into Atsumu’s neck much like an animal searching for heat, “I liked it today,” he mumbled. Atsumu resisted the urge to flinch from the ticklish sensation and he hummed. “I liked it last time… The first time we slept together I remember really liking it,” 

“Okay, that's good. Y’know I just want ya comfortable, right? Everyone deserves to have the best sex they can. It should be fun and pleasurable fer both parties. Ya shouldn’t have ta settle for whatever during sex. I want you to ask for what ya want so I can maximize yer pleasure. I want us to find out what ya like so we can make it the best experience,” 

Kiyoomi groaned and nuzzled his face further into Atsumu’s neck. Atsumu chuckled softly, he pulled him over so half of his body was covered by the taller man making it easier for him to hide in his neck. He wrapped his arms around his body and held him close, as if he were a body pillow. 

Neither of them said anything for a minute, just basking in the silence and feeling their lulls of breath against each other. 

Eventually Kiyoomi’s head poked out from his neck and he scooted down a bit to rest his head on his collar bone, “I think I’ve conditioned myself into thinking when I bottom or am submissive in bed it’s a form of punishment,” 

Atsumu’s arms relaxed around him a bit as he took in the words. He thought back to the sex they had the night of their date and the night of Kiyoomi’s relapse. 

“So, that night you bottomed…” He said quietly, “That was a form of self harm, right?” Kiyoomi tensed. Atsumu reached one hand up to run it through his hair soothingly, “I assumed it was after I got rid of the drugs and you freaked out,” 

“I– Yeah,” He whispered, “I was trying to distract myself,” 

“From what?” 

“Cravings, mostly, I guess,” 

“Right,” 

“I’m sorry,” 

“It’s not your fault, Omi,”

Kiyoomi curled himself into Atsumu even more, despite it being practically impossible considering their position, “I wish I never tried drugs,” Kiyoomi muttered. 

“I know,” Atsumu whispered, rubbing Kiyoomi’s back, “Are we gonna talk about rehab soon?” Kiyoomi sighed and shrugged. “Okay. Rehab or retire?” 

“I’m not retiring,” Kiyoomi said easily. 

“So rehab,” 

Kiyoomi went quiet for a while, “I guess,” He whispered. 

“Are you scared?” 

“Terrified,” he said, sounding completely apathetic. Atsumu frowned, “When I’m sober,” He added. 

Atsumu understood his comment but opted to ignore it, “I really want to set to you on the world stage,”

The room was filled with the sound of Kiyoomi’s speakers for a solid two or three excruciating minutes. Kiyoomi’s words were quiet as he spoke, “Me too,” 

Almost a week has gone by since Coach Foster spoke to Kiyoomi. He had stopped going to practices entirely and was set to talk to Coach again in a couple days. He had gotten several texts from his teammates asking what happened and if he was okay. He didn’t ask Atsumu what Coach had said to everyone, preferring to stay in the dark. 

His days were spent in bed, high, as his depressive episode prevailed. When Atsumu got home from practice he would normally come check on Kiyoomi to see how he was doing. 

If he was able to get out of bed that day he would either get him to clean the mess that somehow accumulated on the ground of his room or they would go out and do something physical, like rock climbing or table tennis. 

On days he couldn't, he would either leave him to his own devices and order him some food or cook food for him and sit in the living room or beside him quietly. 

It was a good system. Kiyoomi appreciated what they had, but hated the fact he couldn’t give Atsumu a ‘normal’ relationship. He got in his head about it a lot but whenever he brought it up Atsumu rolled his eyes and shoved a stuffed animal in his face. 

The day Kiyoomi went in to see Coach Foster he went in forty five minutes after practice started. That way everyone was stretched and Coach had given the first drills of the day. Hopefully he could walk in, get Coach’s attention, talk and slip out undetected. 

This, however, did not happen. 

As soon as he slipped into the gym Bokuto spiked a ball that had a trajectory directly in his direction. He barely had time to roll his eyes as he ducked down to avoid the ball after it bounced off the ground and flew straight at his head. 

“Sakusa!” He heard Bokuto exclaim. He had one hand on the ground as he crouched down on the floor. He sighed and looked up at the excitable spiker. 

“Bokuto, hi,” he said plainly. 

“We miss you! Have you come to watch us?” Kiyoomi stood up slowly and wiped his hand on his jacket. 

“Omi-omi,” Atsumu said, jogging up to him and putting an elbow on Bokuto’s shoulder. He had an apologetic look on his face as if he could’ve changed the outcome of this, it was simply bad timing. 

“Miya,” He responded, as he saw the rest of the team start to crowd around him. Suddenly he started to feel caged. His eyes darted around looking for a way to get out, “Um–” 

“Guys, let’s give him some space, yeah? We can talk to him soon,” Atsumu said, waving his hands out, dispersing the group. They all mumbled as they walked away with waves. “So much for a silent entry,” Atsumu said once they were alone. 

Kiyoomi sighed and looked down at his hands. Atsumu looked around before taking a couple strides forward to capture Kiyoomi’s hands in his own, “Don’t psych yerself out. He knows everything he needs to know, kay? Just listen to what he needs to say. You’ll be okay,” He leaned in and stole a quick kiss before pushing the man towards the Coach’s office. 

As Kiyoomi walked towards the door he heard Inunaki’s voice teasing Atsumu about being a sap. He felt his lips twitch upwards. 

He knocked on the door and opened it upon hearing his coach invite him in, “Kiyoomi, sit,” He sat, “I hope your week has been good. I was able to get you admitted to a rehab centre 45 minutes away from here. It’s called ‘Maple Oak Recovery’. I think it will be perfect for you. They have a program which I think will benefit you greatly. They treat both your mental illness and substance use issues,”

“Okay…” 

“You’ll leave in 3 days,” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I’ll have an arrangement for transportation so you don’t have to worry. The program is 70 - 90 days–”

“What?” Kiyoomi cut him off. He felt overwhelmed with everything that was happening. He was being tossed into a rehab program for 3 months in 3 days? He wasn’t ready. He hasn’t mentally prepared for this. 

He felt his hands prickle with sweat, a lump began to grow in his throat… He thought he had more time. He didn’t want to go, he didn’t know what to expect. He still had drugs left to go through, “Can you get Atsumu?” He knew he cut his coach off but his ears were ringing and he couldn’t care less. 

“He just started practi–”

“ Please,” He begged. Soon enough Atsumu was crouched in front of him, hands on his knees, worried eyes peering up at him. He felt his walls crash. Tears began falling down his cheeks, an ugly sob ripped through his chest, his lungs begging for oxygen. 

He vaguely heard Atsumu mutter a pet name as he was pulled into a warm, comforting chest. He gripped onto the fabric and let his inhibitions down, raw emotion he hasn’t felt like this in ages flooded out like never before. He gasped for air again and again until another sob left his throat. 

There was a hand combing through his hair, a steady breathing pattern where his forehead rested upon, it helped him as he came back down to the present moment. He matched the breathing eventually, his sore throat exhaling shaky but deeper breaths. He focused on the sensation of the hand in his hair, the way Atsumu’s workout clothes slightly smelled of detergent but was being overtaken by his sweat and body odour. 

Atsumu must’ve noticed the shift in his demeanour, “Is our breathing better?” He spoke softly. Kiyoomi nodded, thankful he didn’t ask the dumb ‘are you okay?’ question, “Do you want to sit up?” Kiyoomi pushed off of Atsumu and wiped his face quickly trying to hide the tears even though it was pointless.

Atsumu pulled the chair that was next to Kiyoomi in front of him so they could be face to face. Their knees slotting between each other from being so close. Atsumu kept his hands on Kiyoomi’s thighs as he searched for the dark haired man’s eyes. 

“Hey,” he said softly, “It’s just us right now, love,” Kiyoomi surveilled the room, the door was closed, the room empty. “Coach didn’t tell me what happened. You don’t have to tell me either until you’re ready but I’m here for whenever that is,” 

“It was just about rehab. It was stupid. I’m so stupid, god,” He grunted out of frustration. He made a fist and went to hit his palm against his head but Atsumu had quick reflexes. He grabbed Kiyoomi’s wrist, more forcefully than he meant too, causing Kiyoomi to startle, eyes widening as he stared at the hand on his arm. 

He doesn’t understand why it caused such an ugly memory to resurface. Atsumu’s grip loosened immediately, his hand dropped back to Kiyoomi’s knee. Kiyoomi followed the hand with his eyes, he felt his chest constrict. What the fuck is happening. 

“I need my pills,” Kiyoomi choked out, burning holes in Atsumu’s hand. 

“Babe?” 

“No,” Kiyoomi stood up, the chair sliding roughly against the floor. He walked backwards, consequently knocking over the chair. He tripped over it causing him to stumble. He felt his mind screaming at him to run away. He needed to leave. This was a bad idea. Rehab was a bad idea. Thinking he could live a normal life was a bad idea. He had to leave.

Chapter Text

Kiyoomi took on the submissive role. Was it what he liked? Well, what he liked didn’t really matter. 

What he did like was drugs. So, naturally, he did what he had to do to get a free high. If that meant douching everyday incase your boyfriend wanted to spontaneously pull off your pants and fuck you whenever he felt like, so be it. 

When Kiyoomi first got together with his last boyfriend before he joined the Black Jackals, things were good. He was sweet, he took Kiyoomi on dates, sent him thoughtful messages, tested his drugs for him, cut lines for him, packed bowls for him… 

Before the boyfriend came along Kiyoomi slept around, it was pretty well known that he was gay amongst his friends. His friends weren’t overly homophobic, it was mainly microaggressions and ignorant remarks that made his eyes roll. Kiyoomi knew when he befriended a group of mainly guys who were in that scene, most, if not all, of them would be straight. When they caught wind of his gay promiscuity they were a little off put for a month, side-eying him as if he was going to make a move on them. 

Obviously he had no interest and played up his straight persona he had with them in order to assimilate. Eventually they started teasing him about it. 

When they introduced Kiyoomi to his now ex boyfriend they weren’t quiet about his homosexuality. They made (annoying) comments about his type (as if they’ve ever met one of his hook ups) and openly laughed about the ‘gay’ things he did. He just shrugged it off as there was nothing he could do about it. The man who listened to the jabs against Kiyoomi and his sexuality ended up following him outside when he went out for a solitary cigarette. 

“Hey,” He greeted Kiyoomi, lighting up his own cigarette. 

Kiyoomi’s head lolled against the wall he was propped up against to look at the man. He looked at him vacantly, things were blurry. He looked past the man who greeted him, a few yards down a group of men messing around with each other, yelling, shoving, overall being reckless. They were in an alleyway so it wasn’t uncommon behaviour but still, he didn’t know how he didn’t see them earlier. He focused back to the man who was looking him up and down, “You’re gay,” it was more of a statement than a question. 

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes and rolled his head away from the man, bringing the cigarette back up to his lips to suck in more of the tobacco, “Great detective work,” he mumbled, flicking an ash off the end of the cigarette. 

“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself,” His voice was softer than it was around his friends. Kiyoomi heard stories of this guy. He knew his name, he was a well known drug dealer. Around everyone else he was acting like a typical straight guy, joking around, talking about the girls walking around the party. The way he spoke now threw Kiyoomi for a loop. He didn’t know if it was the drugs he took making his mind muddle this entire interaction, but he seemed sweet, caring even. 

“‘M fine,” he mumbled. He wasn’t, he probably shouldn’t have mixed all that he did, taken that last shot… his mind felt like cotton. He felt a bit like a zombie.

“What did you take?” The man asked, placing a hand on his elbow to steady him. 

Kiyoomi thought for a moment, “drank some, had a couple oxy, ‘n a bar, smoked a bowl,” he paused, “somethin’ else I think. I forget,” 

“I saw you throw back at least two shots. You had some pills too?” The man tsked, shaking his head, “Too handsome to be crawling home tonight,” He whispered under his breath. Kiyoomi stilled as he heard the comment. 

“How much have you had?” He cringed, leaning away from the man. 

“Nothin’ I’m sober. I’m the DD tonight,” 

Kiyoomi scoffed, weakly jerking his arm out of his grip, “Yeah, sure you are,” he stumbled a bit, everything he took crashing into him. He felt heavy, his feet ready to fall out from under him. 

“Take it easy. Why don’t you come to my car for a bit, you can sit down before we go back inside,” He reached out in an attempt to guide Kiyoomi to the car but he pushed the hand away. 

“I’m not following some guy I’ve never met to his car,” 

“You’re too pretty to be out here by yourself,” he said lowly, head jerking over to the group of men down the alleyway.

“Dude. Whatever weird shit you’re trying to pull, just cut it out. I’m not about to get fuckin’ hate crimed by a prick pretending to be a fag. I may be high but I can break your fucking nose,” It was an empty threat seeing as Kiyoomi could barely stand without holding onto the wall. 

The man groaned, rubbing a hand down his face, “Look. Shion. I’m sorry. I’m not good at flirting with guys, okay?” He scratched the back of his neck bashfully as Kiyoomi inspected his face for any tell-tale lies, “I’m so embarrassed,” He huffed with an awkward laugh, “I thought I would try for once… I think you’re attractive and I know you’re gay… I can’t… No one knows I’m gay. They’d kill me if they found out, so I understand if you reject me but please don’t tell anyone. I’ll get you free stuff for a month for your word?” 

Kiyoomi couldn’t see any lies. He thought he was fairly good at reading people and had good judgement when it came to taking people's word. He didn’t know if it was the drugs making him trust the words spoken or if this guy was genuine but he allowed himself to be led to the car. 

They made out in his car until Kiyoomi had to stop because he was out of breath and tired, “Shion,” The man said. Kiyoomi turned his head to raise his eyebrows at the man who looked at him as if he held some key to the universe and he wasn’t an absolute mess. The name Shion was his alias he used in his drug friend group. He didn’t want any of them knowing his real name, he couldn’t have his name tainted before he hit the volleyball world. 

“Can I take you on a date?” 

Thus began a great four months. Kiyoomi was spoiled. After three and a half months he moved in. 

Their first fight opened the floodgates to the abuse and mistreatment Kiyoomi endured for almost another year after. 

Akihiko was going out as usual on a Saturday night. Kiyoomi stayed back, exams were coming up, he was stressed and needed to study until he felt his brain bleed from his ears. Akihiko came up behind Kiyoomi and placed a kiss on his head, hands feeling down his chest. “Stop,” Kiyoomi muttered, pushing the hands away. 

He wasn’t in the mood for any affection. He needed to concentrate. He also hated Saturdays. He wasn’t that jealous of a boyfriend. These nights sucked because he knew how much his boyfriend disliked them. He had a system in order to keep his hetero persona up, every saturday he’d ‘sleep’ with a girl. Kiyoomi knew his boyfriend was gay, he had no interest or attraction for women, he didn’t like having sex with anyone with a vulva for that matter. He still did a fucked up thing to keep his status afloat. 

“I won’t be home tonight, can I not have a little lovin’ from my sexy boyfriend?” He said groping at Kiyoomi once again.

 Kiyoomi felt rage build up inside him before he snapped, he pushed the stronger man off him and stood up from his chair, “Stop fucking touching me when I tell you to. I don’t want your dirty fingers all over me. Go get your Viagra and GHB and get the fuck out,” His breaths felt shallow as blood rushed to his face. 

“Come on now. Stop being a bitch and give me something to think about when I’m forced to fuck a girl to keep both of us alive,” 

“Fuck you,” Kiyoomi’s voice shook, “What you’re doing is so fucked up. I hope you get a fucking std tonight. I bet you won't even be able to get it up with the Viagra,” Akihiko’s jaw tensed. Kiyoomi was made aware of what he’s been doing to the girls he ‘sleeps’ with only a couple days ago. When he was told about it he didn’t say anything. He took the words in, listened to Akihiko cry about how he felt bad for not being able to get hard but said nothing in return. 

Kiyoomi doesn’t think Akihiko would’ve told him had he not found the stash of Viagra and GHB. When Kiyoomi threw the drugs in front of him demanding an explanation he regretted it immediately. Akihiko found it difficult to get an erection when he was forced to spend a night with a girl. Kiyoomi shrugged his shoulders at this. 

The GHB was what made him sick. Seeing anyone with GHB made red flags go off in Kiyoomi’s mind. When Akihiko sold it to someone Kiyoomi couldn’t help but scowl and wanted to demand to know what they were going to use the drug for. He didn’t understand how Akihiko could sell it to someone and not bat an eye. He understood now. He himself used the drug. 

He would pick up a girl every saturday night while his friends watched, slip some GHB in the girl's drink and take her to his other home. The girl would be fucked up enough to remember parts of the night but not enough to remember all. Akihiko would use it to his advantage and try to fuck her incase she did remember some of it– this way she would remember that sex actually happened. 

In other cases Akihiko would simply strip her and set the scene as if they fucked like rabbits, jerk off in a condom and throw it out, then fall asleep next to her. He would play it off asking if she had a good night, usually the girls would lie saying he was great before they left, other times they would be sad and say they don’t remember. 

“Fuck you for bringing that up. I told you that because I trust you. Because I love you,” Kiyoomi’s breath hitched. Was he really saying that for the first time during their first fight? What a fucked up move. 

He shook his head he felt hysterical, “That’s fucked up Akihiko. Get your rape drug and get out. Honestly. Good luck getting it up,” 

As soon as the words left his mouth an arm was at his throat pinning him to a wall, “Say another fucking word and you’ll regret it. You don’t understand shit. I have a gun to my head every fucking day,”

Kiyoomi’s eyes were wide, his windpipe felt as if it was seconds away from being crushed. He’s never been violent before, Kiyoomi was terrified.

It didn’t stop him from spitting the first words that came from his mouth, however, “I understand,” he wheezed, “that you’re a pathetic fucking faggot,” it was hard to speak with the arm on his throat but his message was loud and clear. 

Suddenly, his vision flashed white then black as he fell to his knees. He gasped for air, and held his face in agony, “I hope you overdose tonight,” a spitting sound was heard before the hand that was on the ground supporting him felt wet with what he assumed was saliva. 

The front door opened and closed loudly. Kiyoomi sobbed loudly in the empty house. He hoped to overdose that night too, studying forgotten about. 

The direct repercussions of that first night were nothing like Kiyoomi expected. Sunday afternoon he was awoken at 1pm by a soft shake. He went to bed at 5am, despite taking a xanax and drinking a couple vodka sodas he wasn’t able to fall asleep until his eyes physically wouldn’t stay open anymore.

He jolted up when he felt the hand on his shoulder. His eyes wide, more alert than they’ve ever been in the morning. Only Akihiko had a key to the house, so there was only one face that could be staring down at him. 

“Shion. Darling,” 

“Don’t,” Kiyoomi said wearily. He sat on the edge of the bed. A medium sized box and a single flower sat atop of it. Kiyoomi squinted at it, “Wha-” 

“I’m sorry,” His voice was quiet, seemingly remorseful, “I hurt you. I was defensive and… Well, I think you know that there are things I need to work through regarding my sexuality,” Kiyoomi hesitantly reached for the box in his hands. He opened it and found all the things he had mentioned he liked, treats, snacks… There were also two pill bottles full of pills. OxyContin and Xanax filled to the brim, “You said those things to hurt me. You were stressed. I know you don’t mean what you said, you wouldn’t say those things. You wouldn’t jeopardise your- our lives like that. I forgive you. 

“I do love you, Shion. I know I can’t buy your love. I hope I can show you just how much you mean to me,” Kiyoomi felt as if he could throw up. His stomach churned. Why was he being forgiven? He was the one with the black eye. He was the one that was pinned up against the wall fighting for a breath of air. Did he really fuck up that much? He probably deserved everything that came his way. Akihiko was kind enough to let him stay. 

The cycle started from there. The abuse, apologies, gaslighting, gift giving… Kiyoomi couldn’t escape. He got free drugs every time he got beat on, a sick part of him thought it was worth the pain. 

The day Akihiko found out Kiyoomi’s real name was the day the Kiyoomi knew he had to find a way out of this somehow. 

Kiyoomi had come home from volleyball practice one day, tired and ready to get high. He always left his gym bag in his locker so Akihiko didn’t find out what sport he played. He didn’t want him searching the college website through the sports team rosters to find his name nowhere to be found. All he knew was that Kiyoomi played a sport for college and he was good. 

“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” the name echoed through the house as soon as he opened the door. Kiyoomi’s heart dropped. He felt frozen in place. He should run, leave and never look back. The door slammed behind him, he hadn’t even realized Akihiko walked up behind him. He couldn’t breathe. The air was too thick. 

“Aki…” 

“Don’t ‘Aki’ me. When were you going to tell me? Huh? Big volleyball superstar with a rich daddy,” he scoffed, “I thought you were some low life bottom feeder. Boy am I naive. I gave you free drugs. I gave you a roof over your head. I thought if I didn’t you’d be on the streets begging for coins. Sucking dick for a needle in your arm,” Kiyoomi had his eyes shut, breathing shaky and unsteady. “I gave you all of this and I still let you say no when you’re not in the mood,” 

“Wha–”

“Shut the fuck up,” Before he could say another word Kiyoomi was thrown against the back of the couch, pants around his ankles, tears falling uncontrollably. His sobs, his begging proved to help no one. He learned to just take it. He learned to be quiet and give him what he wanted until he was satisfied. 

If he showed up to volleyball with a limp the next day and bruises on his body he shrugged off the questions. The long sleeves under his shorts and t-shirts he usually wore certainly came in handy for covering up the new marks he had to hide. 

When Kiyoomi felt Atsumu’s hand wrap around his wrist he, for a brief second, thought it was Akihiko sitting in front of him. When he saw the regret in Atsumu’s eyes, guilt consumed him. So many emotions were running through him in those short few seconds it was too much. He needed to get out of there. 

He cursed his mind for seeing his amazing boyfriend as his terrible, abusive, criminal ex.

He walked out of the gym quickly, not sparing a glance at the team as he heard them calling his name. He kept his face down, not wanting them to see his blotchy red face. 

When he got outside he stopped and inhaled the fresh air. Not too soon after, the door behind him opened and out came his boyfriend, panting as if he ran to catch up. 

“Omi,” He said, “Let me take you home,” Kiyoomi stared at him. “I won’t touch you. I can stay a few feet away. You can walk behind me or something… Just let me take you home, let me know you got home safely,” 

“Atsu…” Kiyoomi choked out. He reached out for the blonde, wrapping his arms around his neck. 

“I’m here, love,” he said softly, his arms hesitantly resting on Kiyoomi’s waist. 

“I’m sorry. I know you’re not him,” Kiyoomi mumbled. 

Atsumu pushed the confusion to the back of his mind, “Let’s get you home,” Kiyoomi nodded, allowing himself to be guided with a hand on his back. 

Kiyoomi stripped out of his shirt as Atsumu sat on his bed. Kiyoomi looked at the pill bottle that sat on his side table, his eyes flicking over to it unsubtly. 

“Would me looking away help your conscience?” Atsumu mumbled. Kiyoomi startled looking at the blonde. He pulled on a big hoodie and rolled his eyes at Atsumu’s expression. He grabbed the bottle of pills and drank down a xanax. Atsumu patted the spot next to him, “Almost out,” he remarked in reference to the almost empty pill bottle. Kiyoomi nodded slowly, “What happened back there?” He brushed back Kiyoomi’s hair softly. 

“I’m going to rehab,” 

“Well, yes. We knew th–”

“In 3 days. For at least 70 days,” Atsumu’s mouth snapped shut. “I don’t think I can do it. I mean, I thought it would be a week or something. 70 days? That's absurd,” 

“Kiyoomi… Ya can’t get sober in a week. I think it makes sense…” 

Kiyoomi looked down at his hands which were fiddling with his vape. He put it up to his mouth to suck, “I’m sorry for freaking out on you earlier,” Atsumu shook his head rubbing a hand up and down the man’s thigh. “I– My ex… Used to be rough. Sometimes I have bad memories of him when I’m doing stuff, like, going through my day... Abrupt touches, sudden or loud noises sometimes just make me anxious, I guess. If I see something that distinctly reminds me of him or well, any of my exes or shitty hook ups I feel so on edge. But I’m most afraid of Akihiko… I get nervous about him coming back… But It’s fine,” He shook his head dismissively, “It’s stupid. He’s just a guy… It doesn’t matter. 

“The point is, when you grabbed me like that I saw him. Memories of things I wish I could forget popped up. It’s not your fault. I’m not blaming you, I just thought you deserved to know. I wasn’t scared of you. It just wasn’t you at that moment,” 

Atsumu looked pained, “I never would’ve done that If I knew. Kiyoomi… If I ever touch you in a way that's too rough or reminds you of him you tell me right away. I’ll be careful… You–”

“No,” He said, frustrated, “no. I’m not fragile. I’m not glass, Atsumu. It’s not–” He sighed, “I know you’re not going to hurt me. I’m just overwhelmed with everything and I feel a lot like I did back then. I felt so out of control… Then at the worst times, when it was all too much he would come and grab me and–” Kiyoomi curled into himself. His body felt gross, like he wanted to rip his skin off just thinking about it. 

“What did he do to you, Kiyoomi?” Atsumu asked sadly. 

Kiyoomi closed his eyes and leaned on Atsumu’s shoulder, “He hit me, kicked me… I was his punching bag. He fucked me– whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted,” 

“No one noticed anything?” 

“The first time he hurt me he gave me a black eye. I bruised really badly. After that, he only hit places that I could cover. Which is another reason I always wore long sleeves in my college games,”

“You’re incredible yknow,” Atsumu ran his fingers through the dark hair resting against him, “You’ve been through so much… I know yer scared for rehab but i’ll go visit whenever I can, text ya every night…”

“If they allow it,” 

“If not, I’ll send a messenger pigeon,” 

Kiyoomi scoffed and allowed himself to smile softly. The thought of rehab was suffocating but for now it was just him and Atsumu. They still had a few days before he would leave.

Kiyoomi had a few things planned for the days leading up to his ‘Health Wellness Break’ as his coach would call it. He had a couple friends coming to town as well as Komori who he hasn’t spoken to since their facetime call.

Atsumu hadn’t really given much thought about Kiyoomi’s friends outside of volleyball. Sure he had passive thoughts about what they may have been like when he heard stories but he didn’t think about it anymore than he had to. 

When he arrived home from volleyball, a day after the news of when Kiyoomi was supposed to leave for rehab, he went to visit him. Originally Atsumu was supposed to go out tonight with some friends but he cancelled since he only had a couple more days with him and wanted to surprise him. 

He showed up to Kiyoomi’s apartment with a simple knock. When there was no answer he opened the door, which was unlocked. He should tell Kiyoomi to start locking his door more. 

Upon opening the door he heard music coming from the balcony with laughter and chatter. Atsumu froze, he peaked at the apartment number on the door, making sure he didn’t just enter the wrong place that looked identical to his boyfriends. When he confirmed it was indeed Kiyoomi’s he couldn’t help the curious yet confused expression leaking onto his face.  

He walked further into the apartment where he could see the sliding glass doors of the balcony. There he saw Kiyoomi’s back sitting on one of the chairs. There were four other people out there with him. He could see the back of another man who was sitting in the other chair with a girl in his lap. Two men were leaning against the railing facing the three in the chairs. 

Atsumu wasn’t going to lie, one of the men facing Kiyoomi looked intimidating. He had tattoos up his arms, exposed from his sleeves being pushed up, along with the few tattoos on his neck and face. He was holding what Atsumu recognized as a glass pipe. Kiyoomi was engaged in a conversation with him, nodding to what he seemed to be saying. 

The man beside him didn’t seem as threatening. Atsumu could probably beat him up if it came down to it. He was taller than the man with the tattoos but had considerably less muscle and a more approachable face. He seemed to be doing all the talking with the others. He was smiling and laughing with the man sitting on the chair, talking quickly, gesturing with his hands exaggeratedly and excitably. 

It didn’t take too long before the tatted man saw Atsumu standing still in the house, staring at them all as if he saw a ghost. When they met eyes, the man stopped talking, nodded his head in his direction, saying something that made everyone turn and look at the blonde. 

Kiyoomi’s eyes widened upon seeing Atsumu. He stood up, shuffling so his body was still facing away from Atsumu before handing something to the woman sitting on the man's lap. Atsumu couldn’t see what it was but there was definitely a hand off. The balcony door opened allowing Kiyoomi to slip through and close it quickly as he heard one of the men beginning to say something snarky. 

Atsumu saw the smirks on the men’s faces and the giggles the girl was stifling. Kiyoomi rolled his eyes and pulled the curtain closed and locked the door for good measure. They looked at each other for a while, neither knowing what to say. 

“You gonna introduce me to yer friends?” he said with an awkward chuckle.

“Why are you here?” Kiyoomi shook his head. Atsumu saw Kiyoomi’s hands twitching every now and then, his eyes seemed unfocused and not wanting to really look at Atsumu. 

“I thought I would hang out with ya before you head to rehab,” Atsumu said as if it was obvious. 

“We’ve been hanging out constantly,” It was said louder and more rushed than Kiyoomi usually spoke. Atsumu felt like he threw a dagger at his heart. He bit the inside of his cheek. 

Before Atsumu could say anything there was knocking on the glass door, “Shion! You’re so cold!” There was some laughter and Atsumu frowned. 

“Shion?”

Kiyoomi closed his eyes and sighed, “Alias,” He whispered as well as he could. Atsumu nodded slowly, “If you really want to meet them… Then come on, Eiji ,” 

Atsumu stared at him, “Like Banana Fish? I look nothing like him,” he whispered hastily. 

Kiyoomi grabbed his wrist and pulled open the curtain to see his friends with their ears against the door. Kiyoomi rolled his eyes and knocked once on the door causing them all to jump back. The door was unlocked and Kiyoomi made Atsumu sit down where he previously sat. He was about to protest only for Kiyoomi to shut him up by sitting on his lap and leaning back. 

“Eiji, is it?” The man who was standing next to the tattooed man asked. Atsumu nodded slowly. He wrapped his arms around Kiyoomi’s waist and sat up a bit. He looked around the balcony and noted everything they had on the table and the ground. 

There was tall bong on the ground next to the table, two glass pipes sitting idle on the table, a thing of tinfoil that was clearly wrapping something up, they had a needle with a cooking spoon and everything needed to inject (though it looked unused), there were three little baggies, two baggies were filled with some powder, the third was empty. All the paraphernalia had Atsumu’s mind spinning, the smell was also unpleasant. 

There was the obvious smell of weed, the bong and grinder giving up that clue. There was the distinct smell of cigarettes which he was able to identify with the help of the ashtray. There were several put out butts alongside the pack that was next to it with a lighter. There was another smell that Atsumu couldn’t identify, he assumed it was whatever they were lighting up in those pipes. 

The man who asked Atsumu nodded at him with his arms across his chest, “I’m Daiki, this is Koshiro,” He pointed to the man with tattoos, “And Kyoka is crushing Kohei over there,” He nodded to the couple, “What’s your poison, man?” he gestured to the table. 

Kiyoomi sat up quickly causing Atsumu to groan in discomfort, “Nah, lay off it, he doesn’t do this shit,” Atsumu’s eyebrows shot up, hearing Kiyoomi talk like that was weird. 

“Shion fuckin’ a sober man? What are the odds,” Daiki said in awe. 

“I thought a lot of gay guys in the drug community were closeted?” Atsumu questioned.

“Oh yeah. Shion was well known though. Not for his drugs or anything, just the fact that he knew so many high up people and hasn’t been killed for bein’ a fag. It was as if he had immunity or some pact with ‘em. As if they were all gays that he was secretly fucking,” 

Kiyoomi leaned back in defeat, his head rolling to tuck into Atsumu’s neck, “Ignore him, please,” He whispered.

Atsumu ignored his boyfriend, too curious in understanding the dynamic Kiyoomi built in the community in order to stay alive. 

“I assume after… Shion had sex with them no one found out?” 

The man leaned back, “No one high up was exposed for bein’ homo. He was sleeping around a lot though. He went from fucking some sober twinks to realizing sober sex sucks–”

“Um, I don’t think I ever said explicitly that sober sex sucks,” Kiyoomi interjected, waving his finger. All the men looked at each other as if they all knew the truth. Atsumu looked at them all in confusion but rubbed Kiyoomi’s flank in comfort trying to convey to him that he could clarify things later or didn’t care for the insinuation. 

“Anyway, we started hearing these stories about new sex partners every other day. They always went up to him apparently. Shion never made the first move. So must’ve been a lot of gays ready to pounce once they heard about him. Then he had like four dry spells where I think he got cuffed but this guy,” He nudged Koshiro with his elbow, “thinks all the gays got killed. So dark,” 

Atsumu felt Kiyoomi chuckle a bit before he started bouncing his leg, “I was in a relationship those times. I still got propositions but whichever boyfriend at the time wanted to pop any guy that came near me. They were all so possessive,” 

“I fuckin’ knew it!” Kohei shouted from the chair before reaching over for the pack of cigarettes. 

Kiyoomi sat up quickly leaning into the middle of the group excitedly, “You’d never guess who they were though,” 

Atsumu started to feel a little anxious for where this conversation was going. Should Kiyoomi really be betting them to guess who his boyfriends were? Especially since he knew one of his exes was a big enough name to end up in prison. Atsumu squeezed the man’s hip slightly, “Babe…” He whispered.

Kiyoomi sighed and flopped dramatically back into Atsumu’s warmth, “Fine, just try to guess the last. I was with him for a long ass time. Lived with him. He was the worst of them all,” Atsumu pursed his lips. This was the one Atsumu didn’t want them to guess. 

“Oh!” Kohei raised his hand, “I had a theory on this,” Kiyoomi gestured to him to start talking, “Well, we went to that one party one night,” 

“Wow, very specific. Rare for us back then,” Daiki scoffed.

Kohei flipped him off, “It was the day that we met Akihiko for the first time!” 

“Oh fuck,” Koshiro muttered, “Y’all hear he got shanked in prison?” 

Atsumu felt Kiyoomi’s body tense. He rubbed the sides of his torso trying to help him relax a bit. 

“No shit? Fuck dude,” Kohei looked at Kiyoomi closely before he continued his theory, “Anyway, Shion was pretty fucked up that night. Went out for a smoke and didn’t come back for an hour. Ironically Akihiko followed him out after 5 minutes and also didn’t come back for an hour. I assumed Akihiko either raped him or sold him some more shit and let him test it. I didn’t really care enough to do anything, wasn’t sober enough to do much but I thought about it for the next while,” 

Atsumu felt his blood boil at the fact he openly said he didn’t care if Kiyoomi had gotten raped. Kiyoomi just scoffed and shot a finger gun in his general direction. The blonde didn’t understand what kind of reaction that was. 

“After that night Shion stopped sleeping around, had an endless supply of drugs, and Akihiko was at every party Shion was at. They didn’t really talk much directly but they were always in the same circle and they always left around the same time,” 

“Dude, what drugs were you taking at those parties to remember all that?” Kyoka asked.

“Whatever they were you should use them to solve cold cases,” Kiyoomi scoffed, “That was so unnecessarily accurate. I don’t remember that night more than a few glimpses but that’s what he told me,” 

“Seriously?” He jumped up excitedly causing Kyoka to stumble and roll her eyes. She slapped his chest and pushed him back down.  

Kiyoomi sat up and leaned forward with a lopsided smile. His leg was bouncing rapidly and it was kind of annoying Atsumu but he didn’t say anything. Kiyoomi laughed a bit, “Yeah, he was an absolute dickhead. Thought I was gonna die at his hands but got lucky when he was arrested,” His friend's smile faltered hearing the truth in his words. 

“He was so pathetic though,” Kiyoomi sighed, “Man, cheated like crazy. He started fucking guys in the bed we shared near the end. Don’t even get me started on the whole raping women thing even though he couldn’t get it up for them,” 

“I’m sorry, what?” Daiki said in disbelief. 

“He had to keep his straight boy persona so he raped girls and drugged them so they wouldn’t remember how he couldn’t get it up or how he wasn’t into it. He was so fucked up, man,” 

“What the fuck,” They all said in unison. 

Kiyoomi nodded. 

“At least he didn’t rape you,” Kohei laughed. Kiyoomi froze uncomfortably. Atsumu started rubbing the outside of his thigh in comfort. He must’ve caught on to the body language and his eyes widened, “No fucking way. He raped you? That’s it, we’re going to the prison and putting another knife in him,” Kiyoomi felt his shoulders relax.

“Hold up, is he the reason you started showing up with mad bruises and cuts everywhere?” Koshiro asked with a frown. Kiyoomi shrugged and nodded, “Dude. I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you. I told you when I saw your nasty ass black eye that day if you needed anything we had your fucking back. Why didn’t you ask us for help?'' His voice was firm but also filled with concern.

Atsumu was weary as to why Kiyoomi was friends with this man at first but after this he understands why. He seems to have a genuine heart despite his appearance. 

“Why doesn’t anyone in an abusive relationship leave? I thought I was the problem at first. He would be so nice after, until he wasn’t. He also gave me free drugs, and I was living with him. When he started… raping me,” he cringed, “I wanted to tell you guys… But I was scared he was going to kill me. He found out stuff I didn’t want him to know. He had his foot on my throat,” 

“Fuck, Shion,” Koshiro was angry, “God, I wanna kill him. What? He found out your real name or something?” 

Kiyoomi was taken back his body tensing up, “Wha–” 

“I mean, I’m pretty sure ‘Shion’ isn’t your real name. You never seemed like the type to stay in our circle long so being tied with your real name would’ve been dumb as fuck on your part,” 

Kiyoomi pouted, “Yes, he did find out my real name,” 

“Fucker,” He muttered. 

“Alright. Anyway, it’s done now. He’s in prison. I’m in a great relationship now,” Kiyoomi said, turning back to gaze at Atsumu who was already looking at him. He gave him a quick peck on the lips. 

“Better not fuck this up, Eiji. You’re on our radar now,” Koshiro said sternly.

Atsumu chuckled awkwardly, he’s never been given a shovel talk before. He didn’t expect it to be from a man who looked like he would quite literally bury him. 

“Don’t threaten him, dickhead. He’s already done so much more for me than any of my exes. I’m going to rehab soon,” He said changing the subject. Everyone’s attention was turned to the drugs on the centre table. They looked at him as if they didn’t believe him, “Hey, one last hurrah,” he grumbled.

“That mean you kickin’ us to the curb?” Daiki asked, reaching for one of the pipes on the table. 

Kiyoomi eyed the pipe before making a hand motion to stop. Daiki’s hands froze above the pipes and he hovered them over to the bong on the ground, looking for approval. Kiyoomi shrugged before resuming answering the question, “All we really have in common is drugs. If I don’t have that then… There’s no point in you guys hanging out with me is there? When I was cutting down I was still too boring for y’all,” 

“Dude, It’s because you were acting like a fuckin’ addict when you were cutting down. It wasn’t fun hanging out with you. And we don’t have anything in common because you clearly have a persona of ‘Shion’ and we don’t actually know you,” 

“Obviously I was acting like a fucking addict, I am an addict, idiot. I’m not trying to get my name defamed,” 

“What? Are you famous or something?” Kohei scoffed.

“Does it really matter why he put up a wall? Can’t people in yer ‘scene’ turn on ya quickly? He didn’t wanna be traced. It’s simple,” Atsumu shrugged. 

“No one’s talking to you blondie,” Koshiro muttered. Atsumu sunk in on himself, he felt kind of embarrassed. 

“We’re real with each other. Just sucks we went all this time thinking we knew you, Shion,” Daiki said with a shrug. 

“I know who he is,” Kyoka spoke up simply. Everyone looked at her in shock, “I don’t make a habit of exposing people. I’m a fan of his sport though. Both of you,” She said to the men who looked frightened to be caught. 

“Sport?” Kohei asked.

“He’s a professional athlete,” She shrugged. 

“No fucking shit,” 

“What fruity sports are there?” Daiki said, pulling out his phone. 

Kiyoomi groaned, “Jesus christ. Stop that. I don’t even know what classifies as a ‘fruity sport’,”

Atsumu thought for a second before shrugging, “I mean, there are quite a few closeted queer people in the league. I guess you could call it that,” 

Kiyoomi slapped him on the chest, “Since she’ll probably tell you later I’ll tell you now. I play for a division one volleyball team here in Osaka,” 

“Oh fuck, was that what you did all the time after school?” Kiyoomi nodded at Daiki’s question, “What’s your name?” 

Kiyoomi looked at Atsumu who shrugged. They could easily just look him up at this point. There was no point in hiding it, “Sakusa Kiyoomi. His name is Miya Atsumu,” 

“Yo! Those names fit y'all so much better,” Daiki said, his face lighting up.

Kiyoomi laughed, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. 

They all moved inside the apartment and demanded to watch them in action. Reluctantly Kiyoomi put on a game they played not too long ago. They all marvelled about their playing even though they had no clue what was happening. 

Eventually it was getting late and Daiki wanted to hit up some clubs. Kiyoomi rejected the invitation despite still being wide awake. He probably would have if Atsumu wasn’t here but oh well. He escorted the group out of the building, allowing him time to recoup a bit before he faced Atsumu alone. 

As he opened the door he saw Atsumu cleaning up some of the mess left. “Hi,” He muttered somewhat awkwardly.

“Hey,” Atsumu said, looking up. 

“I thought you were going out tonight,” 

“I was. I told you I wanted to hang out with you though. I’m sorry if you think I’m being clingy or overbearing. I can back off if you need,” Atsumu said softly. 

Atsumu understood that he could be a bit much sometimes. Kiyoomi hasn’t always been the most reciprocative to his affection but he assumed it was just him. He never thought it might be because Kiyoomi didn’t want it or he was overwhelmed with it all. 

“No, that’s not– I just reacted defensively because I felt caught. I didn’t want you seeing me like that,” 

“Oh, right. With all those drugs,” Atsumu said, raising his eyebrows. Kiyoomi cringed. “Do I want to know what kind they were?” Kiyoomi shrugged and shook his head. “You’re okay though? Should I be worried or be looking out for anything?” 

“I’m good,” 

“100%?” Atsumu asked, searching his face for any disturbances. His pupils were dilated and he would occasionally tense his jaw and grind his teeth. Other than that his face seemed fine, he was happy. He was talking excitedly with his friends, engaging more than Atsumu sees him engage with the team on nights out when he’s not peak hypomanic. 

He was fairly fidgety though, he kept bouncing his leg and playing with anything he could get his hands on. At one point he had a label from a beer bottle and the next time Atsumu looked over it was shredded into little pieces as if he was trying to make confetti. He doesn’t even think he was aware he was doing it until the pieces were falling all over his lap. 

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, “95 if you keep asking me,” 

Atsumu sighed, “Can you really be annoyed at me for being worried?” 

“I’m annoyed that you don’t think I know myself well enough,” Kiyoomi raised an eyebrow.

“Your tolerance has gone down though, hasn’t it?” Atsumu recalled from some of his readings. He knew that when some people relapse it often is the time when they overdose since they don’t realize their tolerance went down and they try to take the same amount as they did before. 

“I don’t know what you think I took but I was pretty good at keeping my use down so my tolerance never was too high. I didn’t over do it, I would’ve needed to do a fuck ton to die from an overdose on this. I think I did the perfect amount, thank you very much,” he said snootily. 

Atsumu squinted at his smug face, “I’m so curious but also really don’t want to know. But really want to know,” 

Kiyoomi chuckled and shuffled over to the kitchen, “Let’s bake something,” 

“Omi, it’s getting late. I’m tired,” Kiyoomi pouted. Atsumu wanted to melt into the floorboards, “What do you want to bake?” He sighed. Maybe if it was something simple they could make it?

Kiyoomi hummed in thought before his eyes went wide, “Those ball cake towers!” 

Atsumu blinked at him, “I’m sorry, what?” 

“You know,” He made hand gestures that went completely over Atsumu’s head, “That stuff!” Atsumu stared at him blankly, “The name is weird. Starting with c probably has the word come,” Atsumu closed his eyes and couldn’t help but chuckle. He sat down at the kitchen table and watched as Kiyoomi dug through the cabinets and fridge for whatever ingredients he thought he might need. 

“Omi, pull up a recipe. You can’t freestyle it. You don’t even know the name,”

“Exactly. If I don’t know the name, how am I supposed to find a recipe?” 

Atsumu shrugged, “Look up ‘ball cake tower’. I’m sure another weirdo like you has thought of it like that before,”  

Kiyoomi pointed at him and pulled out his phone, “Ohh. Croquembouche!” He tried to say. He turned his phone to show Atsumu the tower of cream puffs with strings of caramel surrounding it. He was so excited, his face was lit up, eyes wide, grin plastered on. 

Atsumu stared at the picture, no way in hell was Kiyoomi going to make this tonight. 

“Omi-”

“The meaning for the name is ‘crack in the mouth’ in french! Wait, I read it wrong. Crunch. Well, we can decide which is better, crunch or crack,” He shrugged with a cheeky smile.  

Atsumu dug his face into his hands and muttered something inaudible to Kiyoomi who was searching the cupboards for the ingredients he now had a list of. 

“Babe, I think it’s going to take too long to make,” Atsumu groaned. 

“Good thing we don’t have anything else to do all night,” He mumbled squinting at the phone trying to read the small text. 

“No, Omi. I mean, It’s nearly 11pm. We should go to bed soon,” 

“You can go to bed. Your apartment is next door if you don’t want me bothering you. I’ll be playing music so if you wanna sleep I doubt you’ll want to sleep here,” 

Atsumu frowned, “Is it meth?” 

Kiyoomi stopped what he was doing and frowned at the blonde, “What?” 

“Were you doing meth earlier?” 

Kiyoomi crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter, “So what if I was?” 

Atsumu sighed and shook his head, “Nothing, Omi. I was just asking. I wanted to know if my analysis was right from your behaviour,” 

“You make it sound like it’s more than that,” 

“The reason for your drug use is more important than the drug itself. Your safety is important of course but since you’re not in immediate danger it’s irrelevant. I was genuinely just curious,” He explained. 

Kiyoomi looked at the ingredients laid out, and pouted, “I don’t even want this croquembouche anymore,” He murmured and kicked the fridge magnet that must've fell at some point. 

“How long does the high last?” Atsumu asked with a concerned frown. 

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, “I should’ve gone to the club with them,” 

Atsumu looked away defeatedly, “Whatever. Sorry I’m not some genius on drugs,” Kiyoomi just threw his head back with a groan, “What? I told you I don’t care about what you took, I just want to know so I can be sure you’re okay. Why am I the villain?” 

“No one is calling you a villain, dude,” 

“Can you, like, not call me ‘dude’ right now?” Atsumu was getting irritated. He was tired and just wanted to go to sleep with his boyfriend but here he was getting called ‘dude’ by the one he wanted to be holding. 

“It’s not that deep,” Kiyoomi mumbled. 

Atsumu shook his head lightly, “Okay. Sure. Whatever, not that deep,” He stood up and put his shoes on, “Night bro, ” He mocked before leaving to his own apartment for the night. 

Kiyoomi stood in the kitchen staring at the door. He doesn’t know how long he stood there but his feet and knees started hurting before he decided to start cleaning the kitchen. He ended up smoking some weed and blasting music in his headphones as he cleaned the rest of his house. He passed out at 3am in his clothes.

Chapter Text

The following morning Atsumu woke up just before 10. His mind was immediately flooded with thoughts of Kiyoomi– how he was doing, if he slept okay last night, if he ended up going out… 

He wished he could shut his eyes and doze back off to sleep where he didn’t have to think anymore. Alas, he pushed himself up and decided to call Osamu instead. 

The last time they talked, Atsumu ended up mentioning the research he’s done and self reflection on his understanding of mental health and all things drug related to better help Kiyoomi. He also started mouthing off about how he’d never impose on Osamu’s relationships and how respect should be a two way street… It ended a little heated but they were able to cool it off and eventually Osamu offered an apology. 

The apology was half hearted and not nearly as sincere as Atsumu was hoping for but he would accept it for now. It was a step up from being laughed at for putting genuine effort into understanding the complexities of his boyfriend's disorders. 

Ultimately they were able to move past the conflict and Osamu was less judgmental about Atsumu dating someone with a drug addiction and mental health issues. He was still weary and worried for Atsumu but he knew Atsumu was too stubborn to listen to what he had to say anyway. 

When they called today Atsumu refrained from talking about everything he really wanted to. 

Now that Osamu knew who all the drug talk and mental health conflict would be about he couldn’t talk to him about it. He didn’t want to expose Kiyoomi’s personal issues… 

He was really starting to think about that therapist. 

The talk with Osamu was mainly to distract himself from yesterday. He wasn’t mad per se, he was just sad.

The way Kiyoomi spoke to him after his friends left made his chest ache. It was upsetting that all his efforts to show his care weren’t being translated properly. He didn’t know if Kiyoomi truly knew how much he cared and loved him. It hurt so deeply to see him go through everything. 

Atsumu put on a brave face in front of Kiyoomi. He pretended everything that was being put on him was easy to carry because he didn’t want Kiyoomi to go through it alone. If Kiyoomi was carrying this all by himself the least he could do was take a little bit of the load, right? 

He just didn’t know how to deal with it. Talking to people proved to only break his trust, and he wasn’t good at keeping things in. He snowballed and broke down. He was starting to feel like everything he tried to do to help was useless–that he was useless. It was a huge blow to his ego, his confidence. 

Realistically, he knew he shouldn’t take it personally. Mental illness can’t just be cured by someone being nice and being there for you, showing you love… It’s so much more complicated… But he can’t shake the ugly feeling that he’s making things worse. The guilt he feels weighs on him. 

Lately he’s been going to work with a smile that feels so plastic. Getting to sleep is frustrating because all he can think about is the arguments they’ve had and what he could’ve said instead. He doesn’t want to break up with Kiyoomi. He loves Kiyoomi, even though he hasn’t told him yet, but it’s just been so hard. 

He feels like shit for not being that upset over Kiyoomi leaving for 3 months. 

Around 2pm Atsumu decided to go talk to Kiyoomi. He threw on a hoodie and joggers with some slides over socks and walked over without texting him first. He knocked three times and waited. After close to a minute of no response he knocked again, louder. 

Atsumu’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. He thought Kiyoomi was supposed to be home. He was meeting Motoya for dinner at 6pm tonight and he didn’t mention any other plans beforehand… 

After another several seconds Atsumu heard footsteps and the door opened a crack. Half of Kiyoomi’s scowling face came into view, his eyes squinted as if he was glaring. 

“I come in peace,” Atsumu said with his hands in a defensive position. Kiyoomi’s face relaxed a smidge before he opened the door fully allowing Atsumu inside, “Liked yer outfit so much yesterday ya wanted to wear it again?” He questioned as he slid off his shoes. 

Kiyoomi looked down at his clothes and made a noise of disgust, turning to his bedroom. Atsumu followed him and plopped himself on the bed which appeared barely slept in, the bedsheets still basically made but wrinkles all over top making it look like someone was lying on top.

Kiyoomi changed his clothes quickly and sat on the desk chair wordlessly. 

“Gonna say anything?” Atsumu questioned with a slight head tilt. 

“Is there a right answer?” He mumbled. 

“Nah, I don’t think so,” 

“Do you want me to apologize?” Kiyoomi looked around the room for something to focus on that wasn’t the blonde staring right at him. 

“Not if it’s inauthentic,” He shrugged, “Or about your drug use. If you ever apologize to me I want it to be because you feel genuine remorse for something. Not because you think I want to hear it,” 

“What if I hurt you while on drugs? Can I apologize about my drug use then?” 

Atsumu raised an eyebrow and leaned back on his hands, “Drugs don’t make ya hurt people,” 

“What if I’m tripping so bad I think you’re out to kill me so I hurt you in self defence?” 

Atsumu rolled his eyes sarcastically, “What’s with the hypotheticals? Have ya done this before?” 

Kiyoomi shrugged tracing a line on his plaid pyjama pants, “No. I mean, I’ve been paranoid and stuff but I’ve never hurt anyone physically,” 

“Okay. Enlightenin’ conversation, dude ,” Atsumu prompted the next conversation. 

“Right. The dude thing,” Kiyoomi muttered. 

“Yeah. The dude thing,” 

“I’ve called you dude before,” 

“I know that we call each other that sometimes. I don’t appreciate it when we’re in a serious conversation though. It makes me feel like you don’t see me as yer partner, you just see me as some… dickhead,” Atsumu scoffed a bit, “Then when I asked ya not to call me that, you told me ‘It’s not that deep’. Completely disregardin’ my feelings,” 

“Atsu… I didn’t mean–”

“I don’t care what yer intentions were. Right now I just want you to know how I felt. Because it sucked. You know how it feels to be invalidated. That’s how I felt in that moment and I’d like to not feel like that again by my own boyfriend. 

“I do my best to listen to you, understand and validate yer feelin’s. And even though this isn’t the same degree to what you have going on, I’d still like to know that when I do need my feelings validated I can go to you and have that comfort and honesty,” 

“You didn’t really say why–” 

“No,” Atsumu waved his hand, “Stop. Yer completely missin’ the point. Right there Kiyoomi. I’m not asking for ya t’fight back, I don’t wanna argue. I’m simply tellin’ ya how I feel. If you feel defensive you can tell me why ya feel that way but I’m not attackin’ ya in any way right now. 

“I’m not mad at you, Omi. I’m just upset–my feelings were hurt. It doesn’t make you a bad person or a bad boyfriend, so don’t get in yer head about it. I just want to be transparent with you. We all do things that will upset our partners, that’s just repercussions of a relationship and yknow, bein’ human. 

“So. With all that being said,” He gestured a hand to him, “wanna say anythin’?” 

“I’m just so used to needing to defend myself,” Kiyoomi said quietly, “I feel rejected so easily… Whenever someone raises their voice at me, changes their tone, their body language… Or maybe I imagine them slightly annoyed with me, I panic. 

“I feel like I need to put a front that I’m tough so they can’t hurt me,” Kiyoomi’s chin wobbled before he sucked in a sharp breath and bit his lip. 

“Omi…” 

“Sorry,” He blinked away the accumulating mist in his eyes, “I don’t like how I respond either. I always regret how I act after the fact. I just can’t help it. I just have an ugly feeling in my chest whenever I think someone has a bad thought about me. I want to just hide and erase my existence from their mind but I can’t so I do the only thing I can do which is to make myself seem like some man of steel who isn’t bothered by anything. 

“But I can’t stop the feelings inside, Atsumu. I don’t know how to make them stop,” Kiyoomi’s voice sounded desperate. Like he was begging for Atsumu to help him stop the feelings. It was an impossible task. A mean ask of him. 

Atsumu stood up and took three strides over to Kiyoomi. Kiyoomi was gnawing on his bottom lip looking down at the ground. Atsumu used both hands to run down both sides of his face. He slowly straddled Kiyoomi on the chair, their foreheads gently touching, Atsumu's hands around his neck. 

Kiyoomi hesitantly placed his hands on the blonde's hips. Atsumu had his eyes closed, he was just simmering in the heat their bodies radiated from their proximity. Kiyoomi couldn’t help but feel himself melt into the position after a while. He focused on his breathing and the feeling of Atsumu’s weight and touch on him. 

Cw: 3k words of smut idk 😮💨 pretty fluffy, no tags needed I think? (v minor daddy kink near end ig)

Go to next bolded section to skip 

Kiyoomi eventually found the breath on his face too much. He slowly tilted his head up, slow enough so Atsumu didn’t think he was breaking the moment. He leaned forward ever so slightly and connected their lips. 

Their lips slotted together in a way that just made sense. The slight noises of mouths meeting and breathing clashing were the only thing Kiyoomi could hear and it only made his grip on Atsumu’s hips firmer. 

When he slid his tongue out to meet the blonde’s he couldn’t help the tremble that ran through him as his tongue was sucked in between his lips. Atsumu nibbled lightly on his bottom lip as his right hand began to move the span of his shoulder down to his chest. 

Atsumu gave one last tug on his bottom lip before he pulled back slowly and moved his mouth to Kiyoomi’s ear. He used his teeth once again to trap his earlobe and pull slightly before moving lower to leave a couple simple kisses.  

Kiyoomi tilted his head to the side, giving Atsumu more room to explore. The blonde loved using teeth and he was going to use the fact Kiyoomi was going to rehab to his advantage since he didn’t have to cover up in front of cameras or pestering teammates. 

He dug his teeth into the side of Kiyoomi’s neck. He nibbled and sucked, smoothing out the skin with his tongue after the fact. One of Kiyoomi’s hands found its way to Atsumu’s butt, kneading the muscle and pulling him closer as his other searched its way under the hoodie he was wearing, rubbing and lightly scratching at his smooth skin. 

“Take me to the bed,” Atsumu whispered, his warm breath hitting his ear, creating a shiver down his spine. Atsumu’s hand caressed the side of his face as he pressed a couple kisses to his jaw line. 

“Yeah,” Kiyoomi breathed. He wrapped his arms under Atsumu’s thighs and hoisted him up. He took a few steps before gently laying the blonde on his back. His chest was rising and falling visibly and his face was a light shade of pink that Kiyoomi adored. His eyelids were relaxed and pupils dilated as he looked up at Kiyoomi, “Fuck,” he couldn’t help but whisper at the sight. 

“Come ‘ere,” Atsumu murmured, reaching up at him. Kiyoomi crawled over him before leaning down to connect their lips once again. Atsumu tried clawing at Kiyoomi’s sweatshirt, whining into the kiss trying to tell him to take it off. 

Kiyoomi pulled away and quickly pulled his hoodie off, tossing it in the general direction of the hamper. He reached down and tugged at Atsumu’s who simply responded by arching his back, then lifting his head so Kiyoomi could slide it out from under him. 

Kiyoomi leaned down again only for Atsumu to pull him down even more and plopping him on his side. Kiyoomi grunted at the impact and readjusted himself so he was half lying on his side half leaning over Atsumu to kiss and touch him better. 

He was kind of confused as to why Atsumu wanted this position, it seemed like more of a hassle to get things started. But he let the blonde guide him. 

Kiyoomi had one leg between Atsumu’s while his hand explored the side of his torso. Atsumu reached over, pulling Kiyoomi in closer so their bodies melded together. They felt so close, every part of them touching in some way. Their upper bodies felt electrifying where skin met skin. Kiyoomi loved it. 

Atsumu passed his tongue over Kiyoomi’s lips, begging for entrance once more. He parted his lips with a gasp as they met halfway, circling and swirling each other as if the first time, exploring each other. It was slow and sensual, it had Kiyoomi clenching his toes everytime a breathy moan or whimper was heard from his boyfriend. 

Atsumu’s sensitivity was godsent. It was so easy to elicit the beautiful sounds he made, it made Kiyoomi feral. A feather touch down the side of his ribs had him quivering under his hands, a kiss had him breathless and needing more. 

Kiyoomi shifted the leg which was stationed in between the man’s legs. He brought his knee up slowly enough to reach the apex of Atsumu’s thighs. When he bumped the obvious tent in his joggers, Atsumu's kissing stuttered, allowing a whine and his hand to grip onto Kiyoomi’s shoulder. 

Kiyoomi nudged Atsumu slightly with his nose. Atsumu opened his eyes, lust filled pupils stared at him as he slowly grinded down on the thigh. “That’s it,” Kiyoomi whispered. He scratched down Atsumu’s back lightly until he reached the waistband of his joggers. He massaged over the swell of his ass softly as Atsumu continued his light grinding. 

After one particularly gut-turning moan Atsumu supplied, Kiyoomi grabbed a fist full and helped Atsumu get more friction. Atsumu let out more angelic moans that Kiyoomi couldn’t bear to listen to without getting too close too soon so he used the hand he was using to prop himself up and hold Atsumu’s face to guide his head into his neck to give him something to suck on. Atsumu latched on almost immediately, desperate to mark his territory and have something in his mouth. 

Once he made two more hickies he pulled back and wiped away the spit, admiring the red spots he made and imagining what they would look like tomorrow. Kiyoomi smiled at Atsumu’s proud face and brought him in for a lingering kiss. 

When they pulled apart Atsumu was panting slightly, “I want you in me. Now. Please,” He looked at Kiyoomi with lidded eyes and grinded down hard with each word. Kiyoomi hummed and shifted so he could slip off the bed quickly to pull off his pants. 

Atsumu laid unmoving watching Kiyoomi strip hungrily. Kiyoomi pouted at Atsumu not moving to take off his pants with him. When Atsumu peeled his eyes away from Kiyoomi’s now unconfined dick he pouted back at the spiked and lazily tugged at his waistband with a whine. 

“Being a pillow princess?” Kiyoomi chuckled. Atsumu smiled and nodded. Kiyoomi melted and manhandled Atsumu so he was perpendicular on the bed. The blonde practically squeaked in surprise before his pants and boxers were slid off and his torso was being attacked with kisses. 

“Omi-omi,” He pushed his face away suppressing a laugh. 

“Sorry my little prince,” Kiyoomi mumbled into his neck as he trailed up with his tongue to his ear. He positioned Atsumu where he was previously and reached over to his side table to pull out his bottle of lube and condoms. 

Atsumu must’ve looked into the draw when Kiyoomi opened it because he gasped scandalously, “What are all those?” 

Kiyoomi shut the draw and turned back to him, “Huh?” 

“You have so many sex toys,” Atsumu said, trying to roll over so he could reopen the drawer and see for himself. Kiyoomi pushed his shoulder back down onto the bed and rolled his eyes. 

“You telling me you don’t have any?” 

“Nah, that’s not it. Why haven’t we used any?” Atsumu exclaimed

Kiyoomi furrowed his eyebrows, “We have dicks,” 

Atsumu rolled his eyes and flopped onto the bed, “We can still use sex toys in bed, dumbass. You’re lucky I’m really horny right now or I would be diving through that drawer,” 

Kiyoomi scoffed, “Later,” 

“Wait! Do you have handcuffs?” Atsumu’s eyes were wide with excitement, “Or rope or something?” 

“You want to be restrained?” 

“Um, yes?” 

“I thought this was a romantic sex kinda time,” Kiyoomi said. It wasn’t said with any malicious intent, he just genuinely had his mind set on gentle romantic sex and now Atsumu was talking about being tied up. 

“No, yer absolutely right. I’m sorry, I got distracted. You can fuck me now,” 

“Jesus christ,” Kiyoomi facepalmed, “That was so unsexy,” 

Atsumu laughed loudly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He bent his knees and lifted his hands up to make grabby hands to Kiyoomi, “Get inside me,” He said in a totally normal, non seductive voice. 

“If you say one more thing–”

“You’ll gag me? Do you have a ball gag in there?” He exclaimed and sat up again. 

“Oh, jesus,” Kiyoomi pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Okay, okay! Later! ’m sorry, baby. I’m ready now– nooo,” He whined, “Yer flagging,” He pouted and reached over to grip onto Kiyoomi’s thigh. 

“Yeah, no shit,”

Atsumu chuckled, “Come here,” he tugged on the man's hands, effectively pulling him on top of him. Atsumu pulled him in by the waist once Kiyoomi had his arms supporting his weight, caging Atsumu’s head.

Their legs were threaded together, as Kiyoomi leaned down to connect their slick swollen lips. Atsumu took a hold of both their dicks in one hand and reached for the lube with his other, quickly squirting some on their heads. 

He stroked them both, using both hands for a tighter grip and stopped once Kiyoomi was fully erect again and started to rut against him with breathy pants. The blonde smiled triumphantly as he let go and looked down at Kiyoomi’s dick. Kiyoomi just rolled his eyes, ignoring the way his ears were burning. 

 Atsumu reached for the lube again and tossed it to Kiyoomi who was now kneeling between Atsumu’s thighs. His hands stroked the inside of the blonde’s thighs, reaching all the way up to the crease of his thighs, thumbs rubbing gently before retreating and repeating. He was staring intensely and hungrily at Atsumu’s cock and it made him squirm under the attention but the arousal in his gut burned hotter by the second. 

“Or do you want me to prep myself?” He realized after he threw the bottle. Kiyoomi said he was fine with it as he popped open the cap and poured a bit on his fingers, “How do you want me?” Atsumu asked, propping himself up on his elbows. 

“Whatever you’re more comfortable with,” He mumbled, rubbing the non lubed hand over Atsumu’s pelvic bone, close to his dick. 

“I wanna look at yer face when you touch me,” Atsumu said in a seductive voice, lifting one leg for Kiyoomi to put on his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna be honest, I can’t take your dirty talk seriously at the moment,” He muttered as he reached down to open him up. 

“Omi!” Atsumu whined, “yer humiliatin’ me,” 

“Thought you were into that,” he smirked as he wiggled the first finger past the first ring of muscles. Atsumu looked at him with an open mouth but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the comment or the feeling of his finger slowly pumping in and out of him. “Not so much to say now, huh?” He raised his eyebrows. 

Atsumu glared at him before rolling his head to the side and crossing his arms over his chest, “yer a bully,”

“If I was, you’d love it anyway, but I don’t think a bully would do this,” Kiyoomi started petting Atsumu’s walls searching for a spot that he knows the blonde is super responsive to, more than himself at least. 

Just as his finger rubbed along the soft spot Atsumu jerked lightly and a barely audible whimper was heard. His eyes flew shut and his fingers dug into his own arm, obviously trying to repress his reactions.

Kiyoomi tsked and pulled his finger out. Atsumu looked at him urgently, panting lightly, “Just getting more lube, baby,” he smirked at the panicked look which turned to embarrassment quickly, “adorable,” He murmured, before slipping two fingers in. 

Atsumu’s eyes fluttered shut. He gripped the sheets below him, letting out beautiful pants as Kiyoomi sped up his prepping. He was aching, he wanted more than just his fingers to be in him so badly. He watched as Atsumu’s rim relaxed beautifully around his two fingers, swallowing him in as if he belonged there. 

When he started spreading his fingers to make room for a third, Atsumu started pushing his hips down, wanting more. Kiyoomi could’ve bursted then and there. He quickly added his third finger and allowed him to adjust to the stretch. He ran his free hand up from where it was idle on his thigh and reached toward one of his nipples. The light brown bud was hard and Kiyoomi couldn’t help but flick it teasingly. 

Atsumu’s shoulders jerked forward, thighs twitched inwards and he felt him squeeze around his fingers. Kiyoomi would never get over how sensitive he was, his reactions were beautiful. The whine and gasps Atsumu was verbalizing had Kiyoomi continue to roll the nipple between his fingers and had his own cock twitching with interest. He was thrusting and spreading his fingers eagerly, just wanting to get on with everything so he could feel Atsumu’s reaction around his own dick rather than his fingers. 

“‘M ready Omi, please, ’m ready,” Atsumu whimpered. 

“Okay, baby,” Kiyoomi mumbled, pulling his fingers out and reaching over for the foil packet. He rolled on the condom with practiced ease and lubed up his erection. He lined up, leaning over and pressing their lips together softly first. Atsumu nodded when they pulled apart, confirming his readiness and reached up to grab a hold of Kiyoomi’s shoulders. 

Kiyoomi held the base of his dick firmly as he pushed in. As the head pushed through the tightness of the first ring of muscles he felt Atsumu’s nails dig into his shoulders and watched as his eyes closed and mouth dropped open letting out short puffs of air. Atsumu’s head rolled to the side as Kiyoomi continued to slowly make his way in. 

He leaned down, opting to press open mouth kisses to Atsumu’s now exposed neck. The nails on his shoulder gripped harder the further in he got before they started making their way across his back. Atsumu groaned as he felt Kiyoomi fill him fully, “So good for me, baby. You feel so good, so tight,” Kiyoomi whispered against Atsumu’s skin. 

“Fuck. Full. So full, good,” Atsumu babbled, “Feels so good. So big,” Kiyoomi felt Atsumu clench and relax a couple times before staying relaxed, “Okay,” Atsumu breathed. He opened his eyes and grabbed Kiyoomi’s face in his hands. Kiyoomi looked down at him, eyes filled with lust and need.

Atsumu connected their mouths once again. He ran his tongue over Kiyoomi’s lips, begging for more, for anything he could get. Kiyoomi gave him what he wished as he pulled out slowly and thrusted back in at the same speed. Atsumu grunted into his mouth and nibbled on his bottom lip. 

Kiyoomi reached down with one hand and lightly ran his fingers over Atsumu’s cock. He was hard as a rock and had a puddle of precome drooling at his navel. Kiyoomi wanted to lean down and drink it up but he couldn’t leave the warm, tight heat he was wrapped in. 

Atsumu’s hips twitched at the touch and he whined, “faster, ‘m not gonna break,” 

“What if I like teasing you?” Kiyoomi said. He swirled one finger in the mess of precome and brought it up to Atsumu’s mouth with a questioning look. Atsumu’s eyes widened and he quickly opened his mouth, tongue stuck out slightly. Kiyoomi kept their eye contact solid as he pushed both fingers in his eager mouth. He sucked on the digits, tongue swirling around them, tasting his own evidence of arousal, “Fuck, you’re such a good boy,” 

Kiyoomi sped up his thrusts as Atsumu’s eyes closed, nursing the fingers in his mouth. Atsumu held onto Kiyoomi’s wrist to the hand which was in his mouth as if begging it not to leave. The sensation of his tongue around his fingers, his pretty lips glistening with spit and his hole clenching around his cock Kiyoomi didn’t know how much longer he could last. 

“God, you’re so pretty,” Kiyoomi marvelled.

Atsumu squeezed his wrist and peeked open his eyes, he looked absolutely blissed out, drool beginning to slip past his lips. Kiyoomi retracted his fingers from his mouth trying to ignore the way Atsumu followed his hand and his whine at the loss. He wiped the saliva off on the sheets, “You going to tell me when you’re close, baby?” 

“Yeah,” Atsumu breathed, “Touch me,” 

Kiyoomi smirked, he slowed his thrusts, rolling his hips rhythmically, “What was that?” 

“Touch me,” He fussed. His legs hooked around Kiyoomi’s waist, trying to get him to go faster. Kiyoomi shook his head disapprovingly, “Please Omi-omi. Need you, need to come,” he practically sobbed. 

“That’s not what you called me last time,” he smirked. 

“Oh, fuck,” he trembled, his fingers digging red streaks into Kiyoomi’s back, “D-daddy, please?” He whispered, embarrassed from using the name.

“Please…?”

“Please touch me, daddy,” 

Kiyoomi almost had to stop moving because he was so close to coming right then, “Of course, baby,” he immediately reached down and wrapped his hand around Atsumu’s hard cock. Kiyoomi wondered how long it’s been since the man’s gotten off. Has it been since the last time they did anything? Because he seemed way too hard for a simple fuck without any edging. 

He used the copious amount of precome accumulated to lubricate the slide. His thumb skimmed over the tip of his cock, remembering how much Atsumu liked it. He relished in the way he reacted, the jerk of his hips, the way his ass squeezed around his cock inching him towards his own orgasm. 

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come,” Kiyoomi gritted out. He watched his own hand as he continued to stroke Atsumu’s dick, watching his foreskin retract with every pass. His hips sped up, thrusts gaining speed and vigour. Atsumu was panting, his grunts and moans only amplifying his arousal and tipping him off the edge. 

“More, more, Omi, please! Please, please, yes, yes,” Atsumu sobbed, scratching and grabbing at Kiyoomi’s red back and clenching around Kiyoomi’s dick so wonderfully he thought he was ascending. He lurched forward and connected their lips messily, as he reached his peak. 

Kiyoomi’s hips and hands stuttered as he released into the condom but he quickly resumed stroking Atsumu’s dick as he knew his pleasure wasn’t the main focus of the interaction. It was about both of them and one of them still hasn’t come. 

Kiyoomi’s free hand caressed the side of Atsumu’s face, the blonde nuzzling into it, breathy pants, turning to whimpers, “Omi-omi,”

“Come on, baby. Let me see your pretty face when you come,” Kiyoomi twisted his hand around his dick, pressure tightening around the head of his cock. 

Atsumu was fucking up into his hand chanting Kiyoomi’s name like a mantra. His eyes were closed, mouth open with drool shamelessly dripping down his cheek. Atsumu came with a shout, “oh fuck, Omi!” His hands clutching to Kiyoomi like a lifeline. 

His body jerked forward from the intensity, Kiyoomi kissed and nibbled on his neck through his orgasm. Atsumu’s body trembled with aftershocks as Kiyoomi slowly stroked his cock dry. Atsumu had to reach down and pull his hand away with a slight hiss to get him to stop as he was too sensitive. 

Kiyoomi slowly pulled out before tugging off the condom and tossing it in the trash can. He looked over at Atsumu who laid still on the bed, unmoving with an arm thrown over his face. 

He crawled back onto the bed after snagging a dirty shirt so he could quickly wipe the mess on Atsumu’s abdomen. 

The blonde looked down at the rough feeling of fabric on his stomach and chuckled seeing Kiyoomi’s serious expression of moving Atsumu’s flaccid cock out of the mess that was made.

“We can just go shower,” Atsumu said, batting Kiyoomi’s dirty shirt away . 

“I want to cuddle,” 

“Oh,” Atsumu said, he suddenly felt a rush of embarrassment or shyness flush his face for some reason, as if he didn’t just have the man’s dick inside of him, “Yeah of course,” 

Kiyoomi scooted up on the bed and laid down, “Can you be big spoon?” He asked quietly. 

“‘Course,” Atsumu murmured, turning on his side. He wrapped his hand around Kiyoomi’s waist and pulled him in. They’ve never spooned fully naked before, it felt so raw and intimate. Atsumu pressed a couple kisses to the column of Kiyoomi’s neck, he hummed and snuggled deeper into the embrace.

“Thank you,” Kiyoomi whispered softly. 

“For what?” Atsumu murmured back, his thumb running along the back of Kiyoomi’s hand he was holding close to the man’s chest. 

“Not leaving,” Kiyoomi felt a lump in his throat, “Sorry. That’s not fair to say. I don’t want you to feel trapped in this relationship. I just… I know I’m hard to deal with. I know it can hurt watching someone you care about be unhappy and… hurt themselves. Even though it’s hard for me to understand why you care or even believe that you truly do care… I need to wager the possibility. You’re still here for now and that’s all that matters,”

“Kiyoomi?” Atsmu said softly.

“Yeah?” He responded timidly. 

“I love you,” 

The confession made Kiyoomi stiffen. Now, Kiyoomi did love Atsumu. (At least, he thinks what he feels is love?) He had never felt the way he did for any one else the way he did for the blonde. 

However, those three words made his blood run cold. They made his stomach turn and palms prickle with sweat. He didn’t get told that often. ‘I love you’ wasn’t a common phrase in the Sakusa household. 

The only time he heard it directed to him was from his exes. His shitty, abusive, manipulative exes. The phrase was used as a way to pave the bumps in the relationship they caused with their abuse. They used it as a way to make it seem like everything was okay, like it all had to be okay because they loved him. 

Saying it back was hard. The only time he ever did was when it was forced out of him. 

Atsumu must’ve felt his rigidity and hesitation because he rubbed his arm softly, “You don’t hafta say it back if yer not ready. Just wanted ya to know before you leave for rehab,” 

“I’m scared,” Kiyoomi whispered. 

Atsumu nodded, “I know yer scared for rehab, love,” 

“No… Well, yes but that’s not what I was talking about…”

“Oh. Scared to say ya love me? Don’t say it if ya don’t mean it. I’ll wait until yer ready,” 

“It’s not that. I just… I don’t like hearing those words… They make me nervous,”

 “Why? I’m not gonna leave ya,” He said confidently. It was too confident for Kiyoomi’s liking. He said it as if he knew he would never leave Kiyoomi… but everyone leaves eventually. It was inevitable that he would leave. Those three words just made the end seem so much closer. 

“They were never good in the past,” 

Atsumu sat on those words for a while. He couldn’t quite understand what it meant, “How so?” he ended up asking. He came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t be able to guess, and if he did make assumptions they probably wouldn’t be fair. He should just ask and wait for transparency. 

Kiyoomi sighed, “It was a form of manipulation. They said it to get something or try to make me feel like I had to feel a certain way so I’d forgive them… It was never real. It’s hard… I’m sorry. Fuck,” Kiyoomi let go of Atsumu’s hand and held his face in his palm. 

“Baby…”

“I’m so– I’m so hard to love. Nothing is easy with me. I’m so fucking sorry,” Kiyoomi’s voice broke. 

Atsumu’s arms tightened around his body, “Stop being so mean to my boyfriend,” he whispered softly. “I don’t know why you think of me like that. Why you think it would be so hard for me t’love ya? Why can’t I just love you, no questions asked?” Atsumu nuzzled his face into Kiyoomi’s neck. “You better not apologize again,” he mumbled. 

“I’m scared that if I say it back our clock will start ticking. I don’t want to lose you,”

“I’m right here, Omi. You couldn’t get me off yer back even if ya wanted to,” 

“You can’t promise that,” 

“I guess not. The future is unforeseeable. I plan to be with you for as long as I can though. If you need references I have a few but they’ll all tell you I’m really driven and dedicated to whatever I set my mind to,” 

“I don’t know what to–” 

“You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to respond right now, or a month, or five. Okay? If you don’t feel comfortable hearin’ the words we can figure out a code word to mean the same thing if you want or I can just show you,” Atsumu kissed the dip between his shoulder and neck. Kiyoomi shivered.

“Thank you,” 

“Anything for you, my love,” 

“Can we talk about something else?” Kiyoomi asked softly. 

Atsumu hummed, “It’s ironic your alias is one of our teammates names,” 

Kiyoomi nodded, “I’m glad not a lot of people call Inunaki by his given name. I don’t think I could handle hearing that name all the time. When I first joined and heard someone call him out like that I was so uneasy for the rest of the day. It was terrible,” 

“I didn’t know hearing that name affected you like that?” 

“Well, if it’s out of nowhere and I’m not expecting it, yeah. Since I’m not being perceived as that ‘persona’, you could say, it just makes me feel like I’m in an unsafe environment and I need to be on high alert. Higher than I usually am,” He shrugged. Atsumu frowned, not liking the thought of Kiyoomi having to be on high alert at all. 

“Yknow, I don’t think I ever asked you how ya came out to yer family,” He changed the subject again. He scanned his brain making sure he didn’t actually know the answer to his own question and sure enough he came up empty ended. 

Kiyoomi thought for a few seconds, “Huh. I don’t think I ever actually did,” 

“But do they know yer gay?” Atsumu prodded. 

“Um… I think so. We never had talks like that, about my personal life… Whenever they were around something was always happening that needed to be addressed. So after they dealt with that, they wouldn’t talk to me for the next while,” 

“What kinds of things?” 

“My depression, at the time mostly. I had to get my medication adjusted a lot. Then when I had that hypomanic episode they also found out about my drug use. It was just too much for them, I didn’t want to throw in the hassle of me coming out on top. I didn’t know if it would’ve been what tipped them off the edge and kicked me out. They still give me money. I don’t really know why,” He chuckled, “Maybe they just forgot to cut off the automatic money transfer, It’s not like they’d notice the slight dent in their accounts. 

“Anyway, I don’t talk to them. I haven’t talked to them in a couple years. I think I told my siblings at one point. It was an accident, I was high and it just slipped out. They didn’t acknowledge it. If they know they probably told my parents,” 

“I always forget you have a brother ‘n sister. I assume they’re closer to yer parents than you are?” Kiyoomi nodded wordlessly. Atsumu hummed, “Yer parents know about your addiction then?” 

“Yes and no. They don’t know the extent or that I’ve moved to pills. They just thought it was weed and cigarettes. I think they know I was an alcoholic too,” 

“How’d they find out about that?” 

“Motoya,” Kiyoomi chuckled. Atsumu just nodded. 

“Yknow, when I was younger I thought depressed people didn’t have sex, or masturbate,” Atsumu muttered randomly.

Kiyoomi laughed, “What? Why?” 

“I assumed they were too sad to touch themselves. I don’t really know. In my head it was just, like, yeah, depressed people are too lazy to have sex,” 

“I mean you were right to an extent. Depression can lower libido also most antidepressants can lower it. Sex is just a boost of feel good chemicals though, so some people try coping with sex or masturbation. Well, I do at least,”

“So if you want to start fucking like rabbits I should be worried? After that one time It didn’t seem like you had ‘feel good chemicals’,” Atsumu said with a frown. 

Kiyoomi sighed, “No, don’t– I’m not– Hm…” He thought about how he should phrase his thoughts, “If I'm using sex as a way to cope during a depressive episode it’s usually half way through. I’ll already be bad by then. When it's around then I’ll start knowing something’s up. 

“I do get really hypersexual a day or two before my hypomania really starts to set in, I noticed. I used to either lock myself in my room and jerk off all day or find several partners for the following few days of my mania. I’m hypersexual the whole time but the first few days I’m basically insatiable,” 

“Oh, so I should be worried,” 

“Worried is dramatic,”

“I don’t think it is. What am I supposed to do when yer manic?” Atsumu has done research but he knew it was dependent on the individual. Symptoms varied, If Atsumu reacted in a certain way in which Kiyoomi didn’t like or couldn’t deal with he knew it could result poorly. 

“For starters don’t try to tell me I'm manic,” Kiyoomi said firmly, “You’ll be on my bad side so fast. Sometimes I know, sometimes I don’t. When I don’t I’m usually convinced I’m just cured from my depression or something,”

“Do I play along? Am I supposed ta pretend yer not manic?” 

“Well, I’m not cured. Don’t tell me I am. It’ll feed the delusions and probably make it worse. If roles were reversed I’d probably just say something like ‘I’m glad you’re feeling okay right now but It’s okay if you’re ever not.’ or some shit like that. 

“You can try to give me hints that I’m manic. Reiterate examples of symptoms I’m showing and hope that I clue in,” 

“Right. I think I could do that,” 

“Hopefully it won’t happen so you won’t have to,” Kiyoomi shrugged. 

“What do you mean?” Atsumu asked. Kiyoomi inquired back to clarify his question. “Like, why don’t you think it will happen? You said yourself you tend to have rapid cycling patterns, right? It’s inevitable,” 

Kiyoomi was tense in his grip, “I want a shower,” He whispered almost inaudibly. 

“Omi…?” Atsumu released his grip on the man as he wiggled off the bed and locked the door to the washroom. Atsumu laid there in confusion. He didn’t understand Kiyoomi’s reaction, it wasn’t a very personal question or invasive. He just wanted to understand why he didn’t think Atsumu would witness another hypomanic episode. 

Atsumu was almost 100% sure he would experience another one. Did he think he was going to stay depressed forever now? Maybe his depression is causing a black and white thinking. He knew that Kiyoomi knew bipolar was incurable. He would live with this disorder his whole life. Was he planning something? Oh fuck, was he about to…? 

Atsumu hopped off the bed, pulled on some underwear and knocked on the door of the bathroom. He heard the shower running but the stream of the water seemed to be hitting the ground consistently, as if he hadn’t stepped in yet. 

The door opened and Kiyoomi’s frown peeked through, “You’re clingy,” he mumbled. 

“Can I shower with ya?” He asked nervously. 

Kiyoomi looked back at the shower, “I wanted to be alone right now, Atsu,”

“I don’ wantcha ta be,” He blurted out before his mind could process what he even said. 

Kiyoomi’s eyebrows pinched together, his frown only deepening. He opened the door and leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed. He had a towel wrapped around his waist instead of being nude as he walked in. 

“Starting to give me deja vu,” Kiyoomi murmured. Atsumu bit his lip and looked down at the ground, he felt tears well up in his eyes. 

Kiyoomi sighed and uncrossed his arms. He walked over to the shower and turned it off, gesturing out of the bathroom back to the bedroom, “Why don’t you want me alone?” Kiyoomi brushed Atsumu’s hair behind his ear. 

Atsumu looked up at Kiyoomi hesitantly, “I don’t want ya t’hurt yerself,” Kiyoomi rolled his eyes lightly and then closed them as he inhaled deeply through his nose. His hands were in his own lap, clenching tightly. “Why are you mad?” Atsumu whispered. 

“I’m not–” He paused, allowing himself to calm down and he lowered his voice, “I’m not a child, Atsumu. I don’t need supervision. I understand you care, but, ‘Tsumu, I need space. Please,” Kiyoomi looked him in the eyes, begging. 

“I thought you understood after the days we spent apart. I’ve survived this long by myself, Atsumu. I don’t need you breathing down my neck. The days you should’ve been worried about were when we were apart. Honestly, I was suicidal and still dealing with the aftermath of a detox. It was hell and I was alone,” 

“Don’t tell me that,” Atsumu said softly. 

Kiyoomi just shrugged, “Just let me take a shower alone. I was uncomfortable and needed a second. I don’t have the means or a plan to kill myself, alright? My plan was to shower and then get something to eat,” 

Atsumu looked at the ground once again, “You’re depressed though,”

“Sure, Atsumu. I’m depressed. This is exponentially more interactions I usually have during a depressive episode. It’s exhausting. I’m exhausted. I need time for myself. I’m feeling better but not as good as I could be,” Atsumu didn’t say anything, “I’m going to try this again. This time, you’re going to leave me alone and It’ll be fine because you know nothing bad is going to happen,” Kiyoomi stood up. He leaned down to press a kiss to Atsumu’s head. 

As Kiyoomi was passing the door frame he heard a mumble, he turned around and asked Atsumu to repeat himself, “I wanna say the words,” 

“Thank you,” Kiyoomi gave him a soft sad closed mouth smile and continued his trek to the washroom. 

Kiyoomi was hoping the day where he would have to go to rehab would actually never come and he could continue doing his drugs as if he wasn’t trying to get rid of them all. When he woke up on the dreaded day he crawled back under the blanket and refused to let Atsumu feed him. 

“Baby,” Atsumu whispered. He was sitting on the bed trying to pull down the blanket from over his head.

“I can’t,” 

“Can you at least look at me, sweetheart?” Atsumu sighed. He tugged lightly at the blanket again. Kiyoomi felt his heart flutter at the pet name and he groaned, he was a sucker for this man. He flipped the blankets over his head. His hair flying everywhere over his face and eyes making it difficult for him to see, “We looked up the place, ya know what to expect. I know yer scared but can we just eat breakfast together for now?” 

Kiyoomi rolled over and pushed himself to his knees, “This is the worst day of my life,” 

“So dramatic. C’mon, I have yer favourite,” Kiyoomi dragged his feet all the way to the kitchen and plopped himself on a chair with his arms crossed and a pout on his lips. Atsumu rolled his eyes, “You’re such a big baby. You need me ta feed ya too?” he scoffed. 

Kiyoomi nodded and opened his mouth as if waiting for a mouthful of spoon fed food. Atsumu stared at him as if he lost his mind. After a few seconds of neither of them moving, Kiyoomi uncrossed one arm and pointed at his opened mouth. 

“You serious?” Atsumu squinted at him. Kiyoomi simply closed his eyes and wiggled in his seat as if he was content with creating this conflict in Atsumu, “Can’t believe I was called a princess,” He muttered before shoving a big spoonful of food in Kiyoomi’s open mouth. 

The dark haired man sputtered, eyes wide. He didn’t actually expect Atsumu to feed him, he should’ve known better. Kiyoomi glared as he chewed the food and swallowed, “Dickhead,” 

“Ya literally told me to feed ya. Had yer mouth wide open!” Atsumu exclaimed. 

“I didn’t think you were going to!” 

“And I'll do it again!” 

“No!” 

“Eat yer food then!” 

“Fine,” Kiyoomi pouted, picking up his food. 

Atsumu stuck out his tongue and took a bite out of his own food, fondly watching Kiyoomi eat. After breakfast Kiyoomi put up yet another fight. He didn’t leave the table. Atsumu groaned realizing it was going to be this way all morning. 

“Guess I’ll have to pack the rest of yer stuff. Your toothbrush, shower stuff, will all have to go unused today as someone refused t’get ready. After it’s all done I’ll have ta throw it in the car, alongside a stubborn wing spiker that I’ll throw over my shoulder and strap down in the car… Then I’ll have to sit next to ‘im quietly all drive since he’s bein’ a little brat and not cooperating,” 

“Wait, you’re coming?” 

“It was gonna be a surprise,” He grumbled, “I got this discrete toy and everything,” He sighed dramatically. 

Kiyoomi’s ears perked up, “Toy?”

“Hm, guess we’ll never know,” 

“Since when were you such a manipulator!” Kiyoomi accused. 

“Since you won’t cooperate!” 

“You’re stupid,” Kiyoomi whined. He walked past him and into the bathroom, the shower started up, “Get in here, stupid!” 

Atsumu chuckled to himself and opened the door to the washroom to see Kiyoomi already in the shower. He quickly stripped everything and hopped in next to him, “I call you sweetheart and you call me stupid? We have a weird dynamic,” Atsumu grinned. He trailed his hands down Kiyoomi’s sides, pulling him in by the waist. Kiyoomi cradled Atsumu’s face in his hands and leaned down the slightest bit to kiss him deeply. 

Kiyoomi was always thankful for these apartments and their showers. It was as if they were made for 6 foot tall men. Granted, Kiyoomi did have a second shower head installed because he likes showers and one shower head is just not enough water. 

Cw: smut – tags: daddy kink, choking, creampie 😀 

Go to next bolded sentence to skip 👍

Kiyoomi pulled away slowly, the blonde following him, not wanting to separate, “It’s even weirder when you remember ‘Stupid’ also calls the other ‘Daddy’,” 

“Oh my god,” Atsumu dropped his head on Kiyoomi’s shoulder, “Why’re you bringing that up,” He groaned. 

Kiyoomi bit his lip to stifle a laugh. He lowered his voice, one hand brushing the hair at the nape of the blonde’s neck, Atsumu nuzzled his head into his shoulder, a weak hum of pleasure was heard. Kiyoomi felt a twitch against his thigh, he smirked, “God, you’re so cute. I love the way your body reacts, baby,” 

“Omi,” Atsumu moaned, he bit his neck softly, needing something to do with his mouth so he didn’t embarrass himself with his words. 

Kiyoomi tsked, “Now, now. I think you know what I want to hear from you,” 

“Fuck,” Atsumu whimpered as Kiyoomi’s thumbs found the underside of his pecs. 

“What was that?” Kiyoomi leaned back, taking his shoulder away from Atsumu to lean on. Atsumu’s face was flushed beyond the typical warm shower flush and Kiyoomi couldn’t help but smile at how cute he was when he was embarrassed. 

“I– I can’t,” 

“Why’s that? You did it so well last time. It came so easily to you, so naturally. It was as if you’ve been wanting to say it the whole time but you stop yourself, why’re you stopping yourself?” Atsumu shrugged and looked down bashfully, “Is there something I need to do to coax it out of you, pretty?” Atsumu’s eyes fluttered closed at the name and his mouth opened gasping for air. 

“So gorgeous for me. Daddy’s so lucky, isn’t he?” Kiyoomi tested the waters. He never used the name during sex, it would be a lie to say it didn’t do something to him though. The way Atsumu reacted submissively to the name, to the suggestions… God, it made him want to slap the label on himself and wear it at all times. 

Atsumu nodded eagerly, his lip was being bitten as a way to stifle his moans. Kiyoomi looked down and saw the blonde’s hard cock against his own skin, “I wanna hear you say it, baby,” 

Atsumu rutted against Kiyoomi’s hip a few times with short gasps, “Please… I need– daddy, I need you,” Atsumu rushed out in a gasp. His eyes were clenched shut, embarrassed. Kiyoomi felt a burst of arousal within, he couldn’t help the grunted curse words that fell from his lips. 

Kiyoomi roughly turned Atsumu to face the wall of the shower and kicked open his feet, making sure he wouldn’t slide. Atsumu leaned against the wall with his forearms, head hanging low as he arched his back submissively for Kiyoomi. 

Running his hand down his back Kiyoomi couldn’t help but marvel at the way Atsumu was twitching and whimpering as if he’s never been touched before, “So sensitive,” He whispered, kissing up his back, “So pretty presented like this for me,” 

“Daddy, please,” Atsumu begged, pushing his butt out a bit more. Kiyoomi just wanted to ravish him. 

Kiyoomi spotted a small bottle of silicone lube next to the bottles of shampoo and conditioner and he suppressed an eye roll from the obvious setup. He poured some on his fingers, “You gonna open up for me now?” 

“Yeah,” Atsumu gasped, feeling the first finger circle his rim. He admittedly fingered himself before Kiyoomi woke up in preparation for the plug he wanted to surprise Kiyoomi but this will work too, “Another. I already got up to two today,” Atsumu said dismissively. 

Kiyoomi paused, “Today?” 

Atsumu sighed, “For the toy. I want you right now though. Please, daddy, I want your cock. I need you in me,” He tried pushing himself back onto Kiyoomi’s finger. Kiyoomi chuckled. Suddenly Atsumu felt the finger leave his hole entirely and he wanted to cry out of frustration, “Daddy!” He whined.

“Stop whining,” Kiyoomi mumbled, popping open the cap of the lube once again. He lathered his three fingers up and proceeded to prod at his hole. Atsumu jerked forward once he understood what was happening and whimpered as he tried to relax his muscles, allowing the fingers to breach. 

Once they started to thrust and open him up, Kiyoomi reached around with his other hand to tend to the neglected dick hanging pathetically between the blonde’s legs. He leaned over kissing his shoulder, trying to get him to stop hanging his head and look up. When he failed to do so Kiyoomi crooked his fingers in search of the man’s prostate. 

He chuckled when Atsumu responded by looking up with a hum and lustful eyes, “You’re taking my fingers so well, sweetheart,” 

“Want you,” He pouted, resting his chin on his own bicep. His eyes looked unfocused and hazy, Kiyoomi loved the blissful look. He captured his lips with his own quickly before removing his fingers and reaching for the lube to slick up his own aching dick, “hurry,” Atsumu whined impatiently. 

“Patience, darling,” Kiyoomi mumbled, rubbing up and down his back lining up with his hole after running a finger over it appreciatively, resulting in a shiver to run down Atsumu’s spine. He pushed in slowly after teasing him with the head of his cock a few times, pushing in only to pull out and circle his rim, making the man push back needily. Eventually he slid all the way in until his hips were flush with his ass. 

Atsumu choked back a moan at the sudden intrusion and tried relaxing as Kiyoomi’s hand rubbed up and down his spine, staring down to where they were connected, “So good,” he murmured. Atsumu’s breathing was heavier, every so often he would let out a whimper or he clenched around Kiyoomi’s girth. 

Kiyoomi, closed his eyes allowing Atsumu to adjust even though he knew he was probably fine to move. He didn’t want the moment to end. If it ended he knew he would have to leave, he didn’t want to leave just yet. 

He leaned over Atsumu and kissed him behind his ear. He used his free hands to roam his torso, touching, grabbing… His right hand found itself toying with his nipple, his left hand trailing lower to his dick but never quite giving him the satisfaction. 

Eventually he started moving his hips, Atsumu’s moans echoed through the confines of the bathroom, music to his ears. Kiyoomi wrapped his left hand around the man’s cock and slowly stroked as his right hand moved up to his neck. 

Atsumu gasped as he felt the warmth of his palm wrap around his throat, “Yes, yes,” he chanted in response, reaching up to hold on loosely to Kiyoomi’s right arm. Kiyoomi snapped his hips harder, loving the masochistic moans he was getting. He put pressure on the sides of his neck for 8 or 10 seconds at a time, allowing time in between to recoup before going again. He had his other hand speeding up to match his thrusts. 

Atsumu dug his fingers into his arm and scratched lightly, “So good, daddy,” Atsumu borderline sobbed. 

“Yeah? Gonna come for daddy, then?” Kiyoomi panted in his ear.

“Fuck, yes. Please. Can I? Please daddy,” His words were slurred but dripping with need. 

“Go ahead, sweetheart. Come for me. Show daddy how gorgeous you are,” Just like that Atsumu tipped over the edge with a final squeeze around his throat, his head feeling light and going blank from pleasure. He choked out a sob and pulled Kiyoomi’s hand off his throat with a whine, “So pretty,” Kiyoomi said in a daze. 

“Did daddy come yet?” Atsumu asked rhetorically, pushing back on Kiyoomi’s dick. He shivered, “Inside, I want you to finish inside,” Atsumu gasped. Kiyoomi felt his whole world spin with those few words. They normally wore condoms but today Kiyoomi wasn’t and Atsumu obviously knew that but didn’t care. 

Kiyoomi cursed as a couple more thrusts pushed him over the edge. He came in Atsumu without a condom on. When he pulled out he watched as slowly but surely come started to drip out. He felt a pang of arousal rush through him, his now flaccid dick interested but too spent to get hard again so fast. He reached out to run his fingers through the mess, Atsumu whining as his head was resting against the shower wall, leaning on his forearms. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Kiyoomi murmured, slipping his thumb inside his loose hole. He pushed the come back in, wiggling his finger as Atsumu’s hole fluttered around him. He felt an overwhelming need to get on his knees and tasted his own ejaculation from his boyfriend’s hole but he’s never eaten someone out before, given someone a rim job, so he’s kind of nervous and didn’t know if that’s even what Atsumu would want. 

Atsumu pushed off the wall and smacked his hand away, “Okay, that’s enough,” Kiyoomi looked at him and raised a brow at how fast he switched up. Atsumu leaned over and stole a lingering kiss from the taller man, “Gotta get ready, mister,” He whispered. 

Kiyoomi groaned. 

Atsumu chuckled. He found it a bit funny how contrasting their sex life could be to their everyday relationship dynamic. 

It just seemed like Kiyoomi wasn’t all that dominant in his everyday relationship compared to the bedroom. Atsumu guesses the same could be said about him. Though he was a huge switch, he could be pretty dominant out of bed as well as in the bed, he also loved being tied down or told what to do. 

They quickly washed up and got all of Kiyoomi’s stuff packed and ready by the front door. They still had 30 minutes before the driver was set to come pick them up. 

“So what was this toy you were talking about?” Kiyoomi asked as he sat on the couch next to Atsumu. 

Atsumu looked up from his phone and held up a finger before running to the bedroom. He walked out with a little black silk bag. He sat down and opened it up. He pulled out a sleek black butt plug and displayed it in his hand as if it were an artefact. 

“A buttplug,” Kiyoomi said, unimpressed. 

“But wait, there’s more,” He said with a mischievous grin. He pulled out his phone and fiddled with it before tapping on something causing a low buzzing noise. Kiyoomi looked at the plug with a frown. 

“A vibrating buttplug,” 

“A bluetooth remote control vibrating buttplug!” 

“That’s a mouthful,” 

“I’ll show you a mouthful,” Atsumu pouted, turning off the plug, “I thought it would be fun. You could control it in the car and I have to keep my cool. I’m really sensitive to vibrators. If not then that’s fine. I’ll play with it in public by myself some other time,” 

“You’ll what?” Kiyoomi asked in shock.

“What? It’s thrilling,” 

“What if you get caught?” 

“What? Someone gonna see the plug in my ass? They’re gonna see me act weird at least. Are they gonna come up to me and be like ‘Hey, just curious as to if you have a vibrating buttplug in your ass’ ? No!” 

Kyoomi frowned, “Fine. I’ll play with you. But if you get caught I’m disowning you,”

“Yer not my mum?” 

“I’ll get your mom to disown you,” 

Atsumu facepalmed, “Yer such a loser for someone who just jizzed in my ass,” 

“Please don’t ever say ‘jizz’ again,” 

“Sure thing, daddy, ” Atsumu stuck his tongue out. 

Kiyoomi shut his eyes and counted to ten. Maybe this three month get away would be good, he thought as a joke. As soon as that thought came in his head he suddenly remembered what was happening and he felt his heart drop. 

Fuck, he really didn’t want to go. 

“Atsumu…” Kiyoomi mumbled. Atsumu must’ve noticed the shift in atmosphere because he put on his serious face and asked what happened, “I don’t want to go,” 

“Omi,” Atsumu scooted close to him. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pulled him back against the couch, “I’ll send you nudes,” Kiyoomi tsked and shoved him off. 

Atsumu pulled him back, “Okay, okay, sorry,” He combed his hand through his hair softly and placed a kiss on his head, “A part of me selfishly doesn’t want you to go either. A bigger part of me looks forward to everything we can do once you’re back and hopefully feeling better,” 

“What if I don’t?” 

“What if you do?” he whispered. Kiyoomi shrugged. 

They laid tangled together until there was a knock on the door. Kiyoomi’s breathing stopped. Atsumu stood up first, “One second,” He shouted. He held up the buttplug in front of Kiyoomi with a sly smile and ran to the bathroom before Kiyoomi could say anything.  

They left the apartment 15 minutes later. The car was roomy. There were 7 seats and the two of them sat in the way back despite it only being them and the driver. About five minutes into the car ride Atsumu was wiggling in his seat. 

Kiyoomi was fiddling with his phone, not paying attention to him. 

“Omi,” he whined quietly. 

Kiyoomi looked at him with a curious smile before his finger glided on the screen. Atsumu jolted, his hand rushed to his face to cover his mouth from making any embarrassing noises. Kiyoomi smirked, he was going to have an entertaining drive playing with the remote while recounting the hang out he had with Motoya so the driver didn’t get suspicious.

When the driver pulled into the gates of the residence both Kiyoomi and Atsumu marvelled at how big the place was. They did their research of course, took the virtual tours and read reviews… but seeing it in person was a whole other experience. 

It was located in the mountains, everywhere they looked they could see trees. There were many cabins and main buildings on the mainland. There were dirt or gravel paths that lead to each building and different possible locations. They could see a fire pit, a lake with benches, a climbing wall, a volleyball net set up outside on the grass… 

Kiyoomi and Atsumu jolted as they heard the side door opening. The driver had gotten out and opened the door for them in an attempt to get them out. They snapped out of their trance and got out of the car. Atsumu tried to ignore the uncomfortable mess in his underwear and turned his attention to the two people who were walking towards them with a smile. 

“Hi! Welcome to Maple Oak Recovery. May I ask your names?” The woman asked, looking at the both of them but mainly at Atsumu. 

“Oh uh,” Atsumu looked over at Kiyoomi awkwardly before introducing himself, “I’m Miya Atsumu. I’m just here as moral support,” He gestured vaguely to his left where Kiyoomi stood. 

The woman nodded with a slight ‘oh’ and turned her attention to Kiyoomi who simply said, “Sakusa Kiyoomi,” without any other form of acknowledgment. 

“Alright, yes. We’ve been waiting for your arrival. My name is Yanaka Arika and this is  Osaki Miroku. How about we show you where you’ll be staying then give you and your friend a short tour before we send him on his way? Sounds good?” 

“Sounds good to me,” Atsumu said, “Anywhere I could use the washroom quickly first? Long drive,” He gestured to the car. They walked the two of them through the yard into the first building. It had a desk after you walked in with a secretary who smiled widely at them. 

Atsumu was shown the way to the washroom and Kiyoomi just stood around awkwardly with the two coordinators. 

“How are we feeling Sakusa? It can be pretty intimidating, huh?” Miroku tried to converse. Kiyoomi stared blankly at him, “We have plenty of time to get to know each other,” he chuckled, “You’ll love this place, it’s so one with nature. Beautiful scenery…”

“Hey,” Atsumu muttered as he walked out behind Kiyoomi. 

Kiyoomi turned around and made way to the bathroom to use himself, it was a one stall hence why they had to take turns. 

“Oh, actually, Sakusa, residents use the washroom down the hall,” 

Atsumu and Sakusa both furrowed their eyebrows, almost in unison, “There’s one right here,” Kiyoomi deadpanned, gesturing to the door. 

“It’s for visitors only, unfortunately,” The woman said with a smile. Kiyoomi rolled his eyes and waited for them to show him the way. 

When Kiyoomi was in the washroom Atsumu spoke up, “That’s a weird rule,” It was said lightly, with a chuckle as he didn’t want to set them off or come off on their bad side and make the time Kiyoomi spent here with people thinking poorly of him based on his ‘friend’. 

“It’s only to make sure no contraband gets in,” 

Atsumu raised his eyebrows in surprise, “Oh,” 

“So hopefully when we clean that bathroom we won't find anything we shouldn’t,” Arika looked at Atsumu seriously. 

Atsumu was taken back by her tone, “Uh no you won’t. I want him to get sober more than anyone. I wouldn’t sabotage my boyfriend’s recov–”

“Atsu,” Kiyoomi whispered. Atsumu felt a light hand against his back and he jumped, unaware of his presence. He felt his face heat up, embarrassed that he was caught outing him. 

“Alright, let’s get on with the tour shall we,” the man said, turning his attention away from the tension rising. 

 Kiyoomi held Atsumu’s hand throughout the tour, giving small reassuring squeezes occasionally who returned them just as much. 

After the tour they walked Atsumu back to the car, “We’ll let you two say your goodbye’s and you can meet us at the first cabin over there, Sakusa,” They walked off. 

Kiyoomi and Atsumu stood facing each other. Atsumu had a calm look on his face, Kiyoomi on the other hand was pouting. Neither of them really knew what to say, how to say goodbye. The next time they would see each other was unknown. Atsumu promised to visit but they weren’t aware of the team's schedule yet so it was hard to say for sure when it would be.

“I’m scared,” Kiyoomi choked out. He bowed his head, tears threatening to fall. 

Atsumu’s heart ached, he reached up and wrapped his arms around the man’s neck. Kiyoomi hid his face in the blonde’s neck. Atsumu felt a wetness against his skin before Kiyoomi’s shoulders shook slightly. 

“I know, baby. It’s scary and it’s going to be hard but you’re so strong and brave. Even if it doesn’t work we’ll figure something out. We’re not giving up on you, don’t give up on yourself so fast either,” Atsumu pulled back, leaving his arms loosely wrapped around his neck. 

Atsumu used a hand to wipe Kiyoomi’s wet cheek and leaned up to steal a quick kiss, “I should go before I decide to never leave,” The blonde trailed the hand to rest on Kiyoomi’s chest. 

“Don’t leave,” 

Atsumu’s lips turned up sadly, “I care about you too much to stay and jeopardise this for you. You’ll be out sooner than you think,” 

“Not soon enough,”

Atsumu caressed his cheek, pulling him in for one more lingering kiss before pulling away entirely, “I’ll see you soon, Omi-omi,” He gave him a small smile and opened the door to the car. 

“Atsu. I love you,” Kiyoomi said just loud enough for him to hear. Atsumu froze and turned to him, “You can say it… If you still feel that way… If not, then nevermind. I don’t know why I–” He started rambling, second guessing everything. 

“I love you, Kiyoomi,” Atsumu said softly, effectively cutting him off. 

Kiyoomi swallowed hard and nodded. Atsumu closed the door to the car and Kiyoomi watched the car drive away. He sighed and took three deep breaths before turning around and walking over to the main cabin, reluctantly ready to start his three months of rehab.

Chapter Text

Atsumu had a lot of insecurities. He had a gap in between his canine tooth and the tooth which sat next to his front–he had begged his mom for braces when he was younger but they could never afford them. He had a birthmark in the shape of a dick on the back of his thigh that his middle school team used to tease him about. He tends to sweat a lot, antiperspirant only ever seemed to make it worse so he hated using it.

All of those insecurities were easy enough to dismiss in social situations most of the time now that he was older and more accepting of his body. Superficial societal ‘imperfections’ were the least of his concerns nowadays. 

He still cared about the way people saw him but it was less about his appearance, it was all about his character. Oftentimes he would go to bed telling himself he would wake up and live the next day as a better person. He would treat the people he loved as they should be treated and be what they wanted. 

It would never work. It was never authentic, it felt fake. He got down on himself often about the cocky things he would say. About how he would act. At the end of the day, he covered the insecurities with a wider smirk and louder mouth. None of his friends really knew his true emotions at any given time. 

When he and Sakusa got together his facade started to crumble. It became too difficult to keep the mask up day and night. He was trying to be strong for Kiyoomi when they were at home and he was trying to keep positive for the team at volleyball. 

At one point his energy started running out, he couldn’t deal with keeping cheerful all the time so he had to compromise. He withdrew a bit at volleyball. He saved his energy so he could be there for Kiyoomi– have the proper energy to be there for him. 

The team noticed. They asked a few times about it but he waved them off saying he hadn’t slept well. It wasn’t a lie either, his sleeping took a hit, up all night looking stuff up and thinking about Kiyoomi… His mind was infested with the man. Day and night… It was getting unhealthy. 

Kiyoomi made him feel so many things. He thinks that’s what made him realize that he was in love with him. Atsumu has never felt stronger emotions for anyone than he has for Kiyoomi. Surge of affections, bursts of adoration, heart ache, pain, everything was so intense, he would do anything for Kiyoomi. 

He wanted to see him thrive, be happy. He’s never felt so committed to someone, he wanted to make this work so bad. It would be so easy to give up but he just couldn’t. He knows how amazing this could be, he can’t lose him. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about what it could be like when this hardship passes, Kiyoomi’s smiles will be worth it. Every relationship has conflict, everyone has baggage, learning how to deal with it is the test. Atsumu believes in them, he just had to learn how to focus on his own well being too.

The first two weeks of Kiyoomi being away at rehab was an adjustment. The team had to rearrange their regular set up and practice with the subtle shift. Atsumu wasn’t on his game which was evident to everyone with eyes. They gave him some leeway–allowed him to adjust–but by the third week Coach Foster was getting impatient. 

“Miya. My office please,” He called the setter over mid practice after a particularly evident fumble during a relatively simple drill. Atsumu hung his head low as he jogged to the room. He sat in the chair opposite of his coach and calmed his breathing from the exertion he was putting out minutes before, “What’s going on, boy?”

“I’m sorry, Coach. I’m just trying to adjust to Sakusa being gone,” He said nervously. 

Coach Foster stared at him, “You’re going to need to pick up the slack or I'll put in your back up for our next games. Is there anything else going on?” 

“Um… I’ve just been in my head a lot. I think… I should see a therapist, maybe?” 

Coach Foster sighed and nodded slowly, “Why?” 

“Uh… Actually nevermind, that was dumb,” 

“Miya. I’ll find something. I just need to know if there’s something I need to look out for or be worried about,” He clarified. 

“No, I don’t have any mental health problems. I just… With everything that happened with Sakusa I think I need someone with an objective opinion to talk to,” 

“That’s very mature of you. I can help you set that up if you need. Until then though, when you step on that court that ball is the most important thing. We have a few games coming up and I need my top setter in his best form. After those games we can set something up for you to visit Sakusa, how does that sound?” 

Atsumu’s eyes lit up, “Yes sir, thank you. I’ll do my best,” he stood up quickly, and held his palms together in a show of gratitude, “Thank you again,” He smiled widely and got back onto court with a new found pep in his step. 

Six weeks into Kiyoomi’s rehab treatment he was starting to get used to the rhythm of everything. It started to feel natural, everything had a flow, it had structure and it made him feel safe. 

He was a little resistant to everything at first, wanting nothing more than to run away and jump back into Atsumu’s arms. The staff were all so kind and compassionate. He was kind of surprised at the atmosphere if he was honest. He was expecting a scared straight vibe but he was met with people who understood . 

Everyone here wanted him to get sober, wanted his mental health to be less detrimental to his life. They encouraged him and didn’t shame him for anything he said or did. 

When he was called down to the community room he was skeptical. He’s never really gone down there before, never interested in the need to socialize with others during the time he had free. When he entered the room his eyes widened as they met the back of the head of a familiar blonde talking idly to a staff member. 

Koganegawa, a friend of his he had met during his stay, was also in the room and saw Kiyoomi walk in. He bounced up to him, “Hey! Kiyoomi! You never come here, what’s up?” 

Kiyoomi ignored him and stared at the blonde as he turned around upon hearing Kiyoomi’s name being spoken. Atsumu’s eyes met his own and a huge smile broke out on his face. Kiyoomi felt his stomach turn and flutter with butterflies, he looked gorgeous. 

“Kiyoomi?” Koganegawa’s voice was drowned out, sounding as if he was underwater as he tuneled his vision onto the man who was walking closer to him. 

“Hey, Omi,” Atsumu said with a teasing smirk, “You can blink, yknow? I won’t disappear,” Kiyoomi blinked several times, quickly. 

“‘You’re here,” he whispered.

“I told ya I’d visit,” Atusmu tilted his head with a smile at Kiyoomi’s dazed stare. He chuckled and turned his attention to the other blonde next to Kiyoomi, watching the whole interaction go down, “Sorry, didn’t get yer name?” Atsumu asked politely. 

“Oh, Koganegawa Kanji. You can call me Kanji or Kogane or Gawa. I couldn’t give a shit honestly. Miya Atsumu, right?” He smiled. 

“Yeah,” Atsumu’s smile faltered a bit, “How’d ya…?”

Koganegawa shrugged, “I kind of remember you from high school volleyball. But mainly because we do group therapy and I can connect dots,” 

Atsumu nodded slowly, “Right…” 

“Jesus, Kogane,” Kiyoomi groaned, pushing him away. Koganegawa laughed and skipped off. “I’m sorry about him,” 

Atsumu shook his head, “All good. I’m gladja found friends, he seems nice. It feels weird knowing people know all about the shitty things I’ve done,” he chuckled awkwardly. 

Kiyoomi shrugged, “He knows a lot more shitty things about me than anything you’ve done,” Kiyoomi eyed Atsumu’s face and diverted his attention to his lips, “I want to kiss you so bad. I’ve been so pent up,” Kiyoomi whispered. 

Atsumu chuckled, looking around at everyone in the room. There weren’t many people but they definitely weren’t alone and people would most definitely see the two tall men kissing. 

“Are we allowed t’sit outside? Like, on the bench near the water?” Atsumu suggested. 

Kiyoomi thought for a moment. He never really looked over visitor rules so he didn’t know if there were anything out of bounds. He assumes they couldn’t go back to his cabin and have sex though. 

“I don’t see why not,” Kiyoomi mumbled, leading the way out the door and towards the bench which was facing the pond. 

“Oh, these fish are cool,” Atsumu leaned over the pond trying to get a closer look at them. 

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes fondly, “I’ll push you in if you want a closer look,” Atsumu turned around quickly and held his hands up in defence ready to ward off any pushing attempt. Kiyoomi was already sitting on the bench though, looking up at him with a soft smile. 

Atsumu sauntered over and plopped down next to him before swiftly cradling the side of his face and connecting their lips together. It was soft, a longing hello. One of Kiyoomi’s hand gripped the fabric of Atsumu’s pants, while the other rested on his chest.

Atsumu pulled away first and watched as Kiyoomi reluctantly opened his eyes, “You look so pretty,” Atsumu said simply. The hand once caressing his face resigned to hold Kiyoomi’s hand on top of his thigh, “How have you been? Tell me,” Atsumu murmured, his thumb brushing back and forth over the back of Kiyoomi’s hand. 

Kiyoomi looked down at their hands and felt giddy. He missed Atsumu so much, he didn’t think he would ever miss the physical contact as much as he truly did. 

“I’ve been okay. It was really hard at first but I’ve been getting used to it. They have a lot of stuff to do here, to distract us. Everyone is really respectful and understanding… When I thought I was going to have to put up a fight against doing the twelve step stuff, they sat me down and listened to why I disliked it and we figured something out,” Kiyoomi explained. 

He frowned slightly before continuing, “They asked me something weird a couple days in though. They asked about how my ‘CPTSD’ or ‘PTSD’ affected our relationship,” He air quoted, “I told them that I didn’t have PTSD and some people looked at me like I was an idiot. They did a screening for me afterwards and it turns out I do…” 

Atsumu squinted at him, trying to gauge how he should respond, “Ya didn’t know you have PTSD?” he asked slowly. 

Kiyoomi’s frowned deepend, “No? I don’t… I didn’t think I could even get PTSD. I didn’t even know what CPTSD was until they told me. Why did you say that like you knew this?” 

Atsumu shrugged lightly, “I just thought ya knew, m’love,” 

“How did you find out?” Kiyoomi asked. He was bewildered by the development. He thought he was telling Atsumu this big announcement about how he was even more unstable than he led him to believe he was. 

“Kiyoomi… I think it would be hard fer anyone t’go through what ya did without some kinda repercussions. Yer the strongest man I know but those experiences still leave marks,” Atsumu looked at him sadly. Kiyoomi looked at the ground in contemplation, “You dulled the pain with what ya could, repressed it so much… Maybe ya couldn’t feel yer pain fully but it was still there… Maybe in ways ya couldn’t recognize,”

“You don’t care that I have CPTSD and PTSD?” 

“No. ‘Course not. I’ll always accommodate ya, I want ya t’be comfortable. When you told me not t’say those three words I told myself I wouldn’t. I told myself I had to do other things to show my love fer ya,” 

Kiyoomi looked up at him, his face twisted up in a way that made Atsumu want to pepper his face in kisses so he could relax, “That’s part of it too isn’t it? Damnit,” he whispered the last part to himself and kicked a foot out in frustration. 

“I thought so,” Atsumu shrugged, “Don’t dwell on yer past reactions too much. You were doing what ya thought would keep you safe. Focus on how yer gonna move forward now, ‘kay?” Atsumu brushed some hair behind Kiyoomi’s ear as they made eye contact again. Kiyoomi nodded slowly. 

“You look much better, yknow,” Atsumu said, eyeing him up and down. Kiyoomi pouted and looked down at himself in half confusion. He wasn’t wearing anything out of the ordinary, it was a simple black and white long sleeve shirt and black joggers he got on an outing a group of them did a week ago. 

“Ya look healthier,” Atsumu clarified, “yer skin is clearer, you have more colour… You gained a few pounds and muscle,” Atsumu squeezed his bicep lightly with a smirk, “Yer shoulders aren’t so tense and hunched, ya look more confident– happier. Yer just… Gorgeous,” He concluded. 

Kiyoomi bit his lip and looked away shyly. Atsumu wasn’t wrong, Kiyoomi felt better. He felt more confident and happy and he wasn’t worried about it being a hypomanic episode. It felt like he was genuinely okay. He’s been doing many outdoor activities that require some upper body strength like rock climbing and rope courses… 

“You look good too,” Is all Kiyoomi said back. Atsumu laughed loudly and pulled him in for a quick kiss. 

“Yer adorable. Seriously though, I’m glad yer allowin’ this place t’help you and not resisting… It helps ease my mind a lot seeing ya look this good,” He smiled brightly, Kiyoomi had to shield his eyes, “I started seeing a therapist,” Atsumu changed the subject.

“Oh, how is it?” 

“Very good actually! I like it more than I thought. It’s insightful,” He nodded. Kiyoomi smiled and leaned into Atsumu’s side. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” he couldn’t help the rush of fondness creep up his chest and burst as if fireworks of warmth. 

Atsumu didn’t know the exact day Kiyoomi was getting back. It had been 12 and a half weeks so he knew he should be getting back any day now. He was starting to get antsy, cleaning his house, planning out dates he wanted to take Kiyoomi on… 

He was only able to visit Kiyoomi that one time. The team was busy with marketing and travelling for regular season games so he wasn’t able to find time. 

It was a Thursday afternoon when the gym doors opened and Atsumu fumbled the set as he saw his favourite spiker (biased) anxiously walk in. Upon the set nearly slipping through his fingers and hitting him in the face the team saw what had distracted him and bursted into cheers. 

The group of sweaty men crowded around Sakusa in greeting asking how he was, telling him he looked good, etc. Sakusa’s eyes were wide as his smile wavered, uncomfortable with the attention. 

“Alright boys,” Coach Foster clapped his hand with his clipboard, “Leave him alone. You can badger him after practice,” 

The group dispersed and Atsumu stood where he was at the back of the crowd and smiled when Kiyoomi looked at him, “Quite an entrance,” Atsumu said. 

Kiyoomi chuckled, “A bit,” 

“Welcome back,” Atsumu’s chest swelled with a deep breath and a bright smile plastered on his face. He jogged off to the court and continued on with practice. Coach Foster and Kiyoomi ended up sitting on the bleachers talking about everything during the practice. Atsumu found himself looking over, wishing he could know what was being said. 

At the end of practice Atsumu never showered and changed as fast as he did that day. He bolted out of the change room and found Coach Foster and Kiyoomi still talking, “Hey,” he breathed. Coach took it as his cue to leave. 

“I’m so horny,” Kiyoomi said bluntly. 

Atsumu’s face flushed and he looked around the empty corridor they stood in, “Oh my god. A ‘hi’ would be nice,” he whispered hastily. 

“Hi. You looked extremely sexy out there and I need to fuck you,” He reiterated. 

“Ah, it seems I went down the wrong hall,” A mocking voice sang. They turned to see Inunaki laughing his ass off. Atsumu flipped him off and guided Kiyoomi outside with a hand on his back. 

“Let’s go to my place you shameless bastard,” Atsumu grumbled. 

Kiyoomi walked with determination until they reached Atsumu’s apartment when he practically pinned the blonde up against the wall and devoured him. 

After three rounds they laid in the bed, not wanting to break the blissful atmosphere they’ve created. Kiyoomi had his head on Atsumu’s chest and an arm wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. 

“I missed you,” Kiyoomi sighed happily, “and your tight ass,” he teased. 

“I missed you and yer big dick too,” Atsumu mocked, running his hand through his dark curls, “I’m excited ta have ya back on the court with me,” 

“I’m excited to play,” He mumbled, “Kogane is good at volleyball too, he’s on a division 2 team, so we played a bit but the volleyball they had sucked and the net was gross. When we tried to recruit others to play it was fun to an extent but it made me realize I could never coach a kids team. I would get way too frustrated,” 

Atsumu chuckled fondly, “Noted. I’m glad you were able to toss the ball around though. I know how important it is to ya,” Kiyoomi hummed. “How are you feeling?” 

“Too tired for another round,” Atsumu clicked his tongue and emphasized the fact he meant about his recovery, “Hm, I’m okay. They said the first little while outside of rehab would be some of the hardest. I understand what they mean. 

“I got pretty good at being able to not let the badgering thoughts consume my mind. When I would start to have a thought about wanting my pills I would try to understand why and wait it out. I would try to use the techniques they taught us and it helped. It was easier and the thoughts left faster. 

“But when I got out and I got home they came in strong. My mind was trying to convince me that it would be different this time, and all that other shit. I just… It’s frustrating because it felt like my progress went back. I’m not going to cave though. I can’t, I need this,” Kiyoomi said firmly and gripped onto Atsumu’s side. 

“I know you can do it,” Atsumu whispered, leaning down to kiss his head. 

They simmered in the quiet of their breathing for a little while before Atsumu spoke again, “Bokuto is throwing a welcome back party for you,” Kiyoomi groaned, “There’s going to be drinks…” Atsumu said nervously. 

“That’s fine. I’m not an alcoholic anymore,” Kiyoomi reminded him. 

“Right… But what if ya turn to drinking instead?” 

Kiyoomi shook his head a bit, “I’m not worried about it. I drink casually, Atsumu. Ever since I stopped drinking compulsively I never really struggled with it like I have other drugs. I don’t really know why… Please trust me though, I want to drink but not because I need to cope with my feelings, but because I want to hang out with my team and have a good time,” 

“You can have a good time sober…” 

“Atsumu…” 

“Right, yer right. I’m sorry. I’m just worried, I don’t want to see ya struggle like that again,” 

“I understand. If you want I’ll never have alcohol in my apartment or drink when I’m alone. Only socially. That won’t be a problem though because I’m not an alcoholic,” Kiyoomi poked Atsumu’s stomach a few times to emphazise his point. 

“That would make me feel a lot better,” Atsumu sighed. Kiyoomi hummed and snuggled closer, “So they were all thinking we head out to the new Onigiri Miya branch that opened not too far from here. Osamu has been around visiting,” 

Kiyoomi nodded slowly, “I haven’t met your brother as your boyfriend,” 

“Yeah… So I also needed to tell you something,” Kiyoomi stiffened, “I tried talkin’ to Osamu about someone in my life using drugs and he wouldn’t stop pesterin’ me and threatenin’ me until he squeezed it outta me. So he knows minor details about yer drug use and bipolar… I educated him a bit and he isn’t as shitty as he was but I fucked up,” 

“Atsumu…” Kiyoomi didn’t sound mad like Atsumu expected but he sounded disappointed and sad. 

“I know. I wanted to tell you… It happened after everythin’ that happened with Hinata Bo and Akaashi knowing… I was so embarrassed that I managed t’do the same thing. I was tryin’ so hard not to make the same mistake but… I shoulda known nothin’ gets by my stupid brother. You were goin’ through a rough time… I was scared my mistake was gonna be a tipping point…” 

Kiyoomi rubbed his face in slight frustration but managed to keep his emotions calm, “I don’t want you hiding things from me when I’m in an episode because you don’t think I can handle it. Episodes might last a long time and things might need to be sorted right away. That wasn’t the case here but… just for next time… 

“But he’s your brother. I’m upset but I guess I understand to a degree.  Motoya knows a lot about me and subsequently you,” 

“What does Motoya know about me?” Atsumu said with wide eyes. He doesn’t know why he was so surprised to know that Kiyoomi talked about him with his cousin. He should’ve expected it. 

“I remember the first night we slept together, I kept talking and going on about how you were in bed,” 

“Oh god,” Atsumu groaned, “ I don’t even remember how I was in bed,”

“It was mainly me just talking about how pretty you were, your moans, how sensitive and responsive you were. I was talking about how I hadn’t topped since some of my first times having sex and how good you felt, apparently,” 

“Why the fuck were ya describing soft porn t’yer cousin?” 

“I was hypomanic,” Kiyoomi chuckled, “and high, I had no inhibitions. He was understandably very uncomfortable,” 

Atsumu groaned again, “That’s so embarrassin’. I can’t believe I had to talk to him and didn’t know he knew that,” 

Kiyoomi shrugged, “It’s just sex,” 

Atsumu thought about that for a second. It’s just sex. 

Atsumu had always been a pretty emotional person – sentimental. He always found the best sex was when he was emotionally connected to the person, when he liked them for more than just their body. 

He had a minor history of hook ups but mainly all the people he slept with had been relationships. Only three of his sexual partners had no strings attached. 

To him it was a little more than just sex. He didn’t want to admit that though. When he had woken up in Kiyoomi’s bed the day after, he was terrified of it being a hook up. He knew the rejection was going to hurt because of his long standing crush he had on the man. He knew he probably had sex with him because he was already emotionally attracted and connected to him, despite not being in a relationship at that time. 

He didn’t shame anyone who did see sex as just sex though. He understood that many people had different views on sex. Some saw it purely as a pleasurable act, a way to receive a rush of feel good chemicals – reach orgasm. Others had an array of different reasons; connection between two or more people, exploration of sexuality, to deepen a bond or relationship, feel desired or loved, reproduce, self punishment, revenge…

At the end of the day Atsumu knew he had no say in how others saw the act. He was, however, having sex with Kiyoomi. He was his boyfriend. He thinks he deserves to know what he thinks about sex… He could make assumptions but it wasn’t really fair of him to do. 

It was a mixed bag when it came to Kiyoomi and sex. Atsumu honestly probably couldn’t make a good assumption if he tried. There were so many factors to consider. 

Kiyoomi had sexual trauma. That alone would make you think he didn’t like sex, that it would be something he stayed away from, that he hated sex… But it didn’t seem like he did… In fact, Kiyoomi had a drawer of sex toys that Atsumu was unaware of until recently. That made him think that he must like sex, maybe more than others? Or at least liked masturbating quite a bit, right? 

“Do you masturbate a lot?” Atsumu asked before thinking. 

Kiyoomi laughed a bit, “What?” 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to ask that. I was just thinking about sex,” 

“Dude, we just had sex three times,” Kiyoomi leaned up on his forearms to look at Atsumu in disbelief. 

“Yeah, no, I know that,” Atsumu waved his hand, “I’m not sayin’ I want t’go again. I mean, I wouldn’t mind , but that’s not what I was thinkin’ ‘bout. I was thinkin’ about reasons for people having sex,” 

“How did that turn into you asking me if I masturbate a lot?” He tilted his head slightly. 

“I’ll try to explain,” Atsumu sighed, sitting up a bit, “You said ‘it’s just sex’ so I thought ‘bout what sex might mean t’ya then I wondered about yer sexual trauma and tried not t’make assumptions but obviously, I thought some. I thought about how ya must like sex because we have sex and you have sex toys–which you have yet to show me–by the way. And then I just wanted t’know if ya used them a lot,” he shrugged watching the way Kiyoomi was mindlessly bending his fingers back as a way to fidget.

“It sounds like there’s a lot more questions you want to ask me than just the masturbation one,” He raised his eyebrows, his smile kind of lopsided. 

“I thought they might be a bit too personal,” he mumbled. 

“You know so many personal things about me. I also just spent three months learning how to spill all my personal dirty laundry,” Kiyoomi teased. 

“It’s different. I’m yer boyfriend. I understand if there’s some things ya want to keep to yerself,” 

Kiyoomi looked at him fondly despite Atsumu not making eye contact, “You’re sweet, you know?” Atsumu rolled his eyes as pink started to fill his cheeks, “I’ll keep that in mind, okay? Some sexual things I don’t feel comfortable sharing, especially since I can’t take xanax to be able to talk about them,” He joked, though was semi-serious. 

“I am pretty comfortable talking about sex otherwise though. The more difficult experiences with sex I’ve had, the… sexual assaults and drugging… I need time. I know I shared some with you but I wasn’t sober at that time. I don’t think I would’ve had I been completely sober,”

Atsumu felt a pang in his chest upon hearing that. He knew Kiyoomi had taken xanax that day but he didn’t think it would’ve changed the outcome so much. Kiyoomi wouldn’t have told him if he didn’t take anything? He knew he shouldn’t take it personally. It was a little hard not to though. 

“My sexual trauma doesn’t affect every sexual thing I do,” Kiyoomi laid on his back, “We talked about this before but I don’t prefer bottoming because of it… But I do like anal play when I masturbate. I think it’s just the power dynamic and the fear of the pain when I’m not in control of it.

“I had sex a lot. I couldn’t tell you the amount of bodies I’ve slept with. Not all of them were bad experiences. But most of them I wish I had said no. When I’m hypomanic I have a lot of reckless sex. I masturbate a lot. I think masturbating helps me feel more empowered? In a way? I feel so much more in control and… I get to appreciate my body and not feel like my body is broken or damaged…” 

“Do ya feel like that often?” Atsumu asked sadly. 

Kiyoomi didn’t answer for a while. Eventually he exhaled slowly, “I do,” Atsumu wanted to burst into rage. He wanted to fight everyone who made Kiyoomi feel like his body was broken or damaged… 

“So many reasons for feeling that way though,” Kiyoomi continued, “not solely because of my history. My chronic pain, my brain… The sexual assaults just made me feel like my body deserved everything. Like all the pain I was experiencing was for a reason – because I was worthless,” He shrugged as if it was just a fact. 

Atsumu turned on his side and wrapped his body around Kiyoomi, burying his face in his neck, “Yer not broken or worthless. Fuck. Kiyoomi, I–” His voice cracked as he felt himself get too emotional. He never wanted to hear Kiyoomi talk about himself like that. 

“‘Tsumu…” Kiyoomi whispered, rubbing his back, “It’s okay,” He chuckled dryly. 

“Sex is a way of expression,” Kiyoomi explained, “I know I said ‘it’s just sex’ and yeah, to others when they look at us having sex that might be all they see. They don’t get to see the deeper side to it. I put trust in you to take care of me and you let me take care of you. I’ve never had sex the way I have sex with you, Atsumu. 

“When we fuck… Never in my life have I felt the buzzing in my fingertips like when we touch, or the tingles in my spine when you moan. I’ve never felt a deeper way of communication, or, or– hey,” Kiyoomi reached over to run his hand through the blonde’s hair. His shoulders were shaking and Kiyoomi felt wetness on his bare shoulder, “Baby, look at me,” he whispered. 

Atsumu looked up and propped his chin on his chest to look at him, “Why’re you crying,” Kiyoomi had a small fond smile on his face, one that made Atsumu want to crawl under the covers and scream. 

“I just– It hurts to know that you’re hurting,”

“I’m talking about how good it is to have sex with you and that’s what you’re thinking about?” Kiyoomi tried to lighten the mood. Atsumu failed to repress the smile and he nuzzled his face into his shoulder, “God, such a big baby,” Kiyoomi teased.

They laid there in silence for a while. There was a question on Kiyoomi’s mind that he’s had for a while but never felt like the right moment to bring up, “You know… You never asked me about my status before,” 

Atsumu shifted a bit and looked up with a confused frown, “Status?” 

“Like if I had any STIs. If I was positive or on PreP… Especially after you found out about my sexual history and the fact I used to use needles…” He spoke timidly. The nerves in Kiyoomi’s voice made Atsumu worry that there was a big oversight. 

“Well… No… I– we get tested for work. I assumed that if you had something or– I don’t know, I just thought you would’ve told me…” Atsumu looked at him desperately hoping that his assumption was right. 

“No, no, It’s fine. I don’t have anything,” He clarified quickly. Atsumu’s face quickly relaxed. “Sorry. Usually people would hear my history and assume I have a bunch of infections or something. Back in college I did get STIs but nothing that wasn’t treatable. I always tried to use protection but…” He trailed off with a grimace. Atsumu understood the unspoken words which made his guts twist in disgust. He wanted to confront everyone who dared touch Kiyoomi like that before him. 

“I was on PreP back then too. I only stopped once we got together,” He explained. 

Atsumu nodded slowly, “Were you nervous about tellin’ me how many people you’ve slept with?” He was genuinely curious. He knew some people were particular about how many sexual partners their partner has been with in the past and Atsumu thinks it's stupid. He doesn’t think it matters. That person is with you now, that’s all that matters. 

“Yeah. I didn’t want you thinking I was dirty or some cheap lay… The fact I don’t even know how many people I slept with bothers me. It makes me feel gross sometimes,” 

“Yer far from gross, Omi. I don’t care how many people you’ve been with. You’re with me now,” He pulled him in close and breathed in deeply, “It don’t matter to me, I promise ya,” 

Kiyoomi sighed in relief, “Thank you Atsu,” they sat in silence for a while before Kiyoomi had a thought pop into his head, “What did you end up doing with all my drugs?” 

Atsumu groaned, “Got rid of ‘em,”

“How?”

“I brought some pills back to different pharmacies and then for the other shit I split some in some garbage bags and tossed them out around town hoping I didn’t look like a serial killer,” 

Kiyoomi laughed, “Didn’t wanna flush any?” 

Atsumu pouted, “Didn’t wanna get the fish high,” 

“So you’d rather get all the racoons that dig through trash high?” Atsumu sat up quickly, making Kiyoomi groan in protest in the process. 

“I forgot about the racoons!” He shouted with a sad face. Kiyoomi rolled his eyes and pulled him back so they were lying down once again. 

“I’m sure they’re having the time of their lives,” He mumbled humorously. Atsumu whined in protest, feeling bad about the possibility of killing the poor land animals.

On Saturday night the small welcome back party for Kiyoomi was held at Osamu’s restaurant. He was kind enough to premake a catering platter and close an hour early so the team could have the place to themselves to drink after the doors closed. 

Kiyoomi was nervous for the whole ordeal–mainly for seeing Osamu.

Atsumu had once told him stories of Osamu and him going around the playground ‘policing’ other kids. They were the kids that would reprimand others to try and get on the good side of adults. They were disgusted at the thought of drugs and drug users; they were weary of kids who did things differently than them. 

Kiyoomi remembered those kinds of kids from his own school. The ones that would shame you for even looking at a cigarette for too long or having a question about a drug, even if it was for education purposes. They had a sense of superiority because they spoke out about drugs and thought they knew so much more than every other kid, even though they didn’t know shit. 

When Atsumu told him this fact about the past he groaned at the thought of the twins running around with a look of disgust at anyone holding a dart. Knowing that Osamu still had such a mindset made him want to avoid him as long as he could. He didn’t want to deal with the side-eyes–the looks that feel as if the person is trying to undress you until you’re at your most vulnerable. 

Kiyoomi stalled having to leave as long as he could before Atsumu realized what he was doing and dragged him out of the house, “C’mon Omi. It won’t be that bad. You’ll be fine. Osamu isn’t scary, he’s a weak ass bitch, if he starts fightin’ we can take ‘im,” 

“I’m not fighting your brother, Atsumu. I’m trying to get on his good side,” He stressed. 

Atsumu laughed, “Let’s go,” 

Kiyoomi eventually got in the car. They got there a little after everybody else. When they entered the building a little bell dinged as the door opened signalling their arrival. The table of volleyball players turned their attention to the men. They cheered quietly, so as to not disturb the few patrons scattered around the restaurant. Kiyoomi had a small, forced smile on his face as he approached the table, nervous for when his boyfriend's twin would make an appearance. 

It took a couple minutes but eventually the dark haired twin emerged from the kitchen with a small towel wiping off his hands. He wore a serious expression as he scanned everyone’s faces, searching out one in particular. 

When his eyes met Kiyoomi’s his jaw clenched ever so slightly. Kiyoomi felt his blood run cold. Osamu gave him his best customer service smile, “Welcome back, Sakusa. Hope you had a good vacation,” 

Kiyoomi felt a lump in his throat, he swallowed with slight difficulty before giving him a shaky smile, “Thank you, Osamu. Thank you for hosting, the restaurant looks amazing,” 

Osamu hummed and turned back to walk to the kitchen once again. Kiyoomi watched his back disappear before a hand on his thigh squeezed to provide a sense of comfort. He breathed out shakily.

“Don’t let ‘im get under yer skin Omi-omi.” Atsumu whispered so only they could hear. 

“I need a drink,” He mumbled. It was mostly a joke. He didn’t actually need a drink, he knew this. He could deal with his feelings without the alcohol–without pills was another issue but that wasn’t an option anymore. He obviously didn’t think his words through before spewing them because Atsumu looked at him as if he was going to rip his head off, “It was a joke, Atsu,” He sighed, “It’s fine. I want a drink,” 

“Omi…” 

“Atsu. Stop. We went over this, okay? It’s just a saying that everyone fucking says,” 

“But yer anxious,” 

“Atsumu,” He said more firmly. He really didn’t want to lose his shit in the middle of this get-together. 

“Fine,” Atsumu shook his head and averted his attention to the conversation beside him. Kiyoomi stood up and walked over to the table where drinks were laid out. 

He poured himself a ratioed drink. As he was pouring, Osamu snuck up on him, “Is that really a good idea?” He felt his body tense up, a spike of adrenaline and fear ran down his spine. 

“I– I don–” 

“Right. Probably not, huh?” He leaned up against the wall with his arms crossed. Kiyoomi felt a sense of dread wash over him. He felt cornered, small, scared. Even though he was in public and he knew Atsumu wouldn’t let Osamu actually hurt him–physically at least–he couldn’t help but want to run. He had all the exits mapped out in his mind, the easiest escape routes, he could pivot and make his way ou– “Did ya not just get back from some rehab?” He raised an eyebrow, eyeing the drink Kiyoomi held tightly in his grip. 

The latter looked down in what felt like shame, he didn’t feel ashamed for drinking, he knew he was fine, he felt ashamed for being caught by his boyfriends brother. 

“‘Samu. Whatcha doin’?” Atsumu called out abruptly. He walked over to the two of them and loosely wrapped an arm around Kiyoomi’s waist. He took the cup that looked as if it was about to shatter under the pressure of Kiyoomi’s grip and held it for him for the time being. Kiyoomi looked as if he wanted to protest but once he realized the blonde wasn’t taking it out of his hand to get rid of it he relaxed. 

“Just talkin’,” Osamu replied simply, looking Kiyoomi up and down.

“Well, don’t let me stop ya,” he muttered, taking a sip of Kiyoomi’s drink. Kiyoomi scowled at the sight of the blonde drinking his drink, assuming Atsumu was testing his alcohol to soda ratio. Atsumu didn’t make a face or say anything though so Kiyoomi looked over to Osamu who was staring Atsumu down as if he was trying to communicate through his mind. 

“Just think yer boyfriend here should be careful when drinking after rehab ,” he shrugged nonchalantly. 

Atsumu took a calming breath, “Hm. Maybe mind ya business? He wasn’t there fer drinkin’. You know that,” 

“An addict is an addict,” he shrugged, his eyes found Kiyoomi’s, they felt piercing. 

Kiyoomi felt his chest squeeze. He cleared his throat and pushed his way out, “Washroom,” he whispered as he quickly walked to the restroom. 

Once Atsumu and Osamu were left alone in front of the table of drinks Atsumu was livid. He put Kiyoomi’s drink down carefully before taking both his hands and shoving Osamu’s shoulders hard, “Yer such a fuckin’ prick, Osamu,” he said through gritted teeth, not wanting to be too loud to draw attention to them. 

“What? For sayin’ shit as is? Yer lettin’ ‘im drink? Have ya not learned? Have ya not understood how much pain he’s brought ya since you’ve got together? His addiction fucked you up. Now yer lettin’ him get into a new one,” Osamu shoved his finger into his twin’s chest. 

“Ya don’t understand shit ‘Samu. You don’t get to make choices for us or tell me what ya think we should do or how to live. Why can’t ya just act like a supportive fuckin’ brother fer once! I love him. I trust him,”

“Trusting an addict is a great idea ‘Tsumu. Yer so naive,” he scoffed. 

“Ya said you were gonna be fuckin civil. What the fuck happened? Do you just not give a shit about my feelin’s? I fuckin’ love ‘im alright? Ya promised,” Atsumu felt tears of frustration prickle his eyes but nothing came out of it. 

“Hey,” Bokuto showed up behind Atsumu, making the blonde jump. 

“Fuck,” Atsumu put a hand over his chest, “Hey Bo,” he whispered

Bokuto smiled uncharacteristically small, “Just wanted to let you both know that you’re getting a bit loud. We can sort of hear you over at the table. No one really knows what you’re talking about but I suggest you talk elsewhere or continue this later. We’re here for Sakusa, yeah? Let’s just be civil,” He patted both their shoulders and walked back to the table. Atsumu heard Bokuto rejoin the group loudly and happily. 

Atsumu sighed, “Please just give him a chance, Osamu. I thought you were better when it came to this stuff. He was really nervous to see you and meet you as my boyfriend…” 

“As he should be,”