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Is this how grown-ups confess? Probably not. The average person would probably just drop subtle hints at first. Then, they would ask for a coffee date. After that, they would go out for another date—most probably at the movies. They’d share a sweet kiss when they part. Maybe they would Netflix and chill after at least seven dates.
News flash: Miya Atsumu is not an average person.
That’s why he’s currently sneaking into the locker room of their gym, with the poor excuse of an emergency toilet break, a pastel pink love letter in hand. He even sprayed it with his favourite cologne beforehand like the pining teenage girl he is. He realises that he has not thought this through enough as he stares at the locker numbers. His idiotic self has forgotten that the lockers are not labeled with their names.
Great going, Atsumu, he tells himself as he hisses at the wall of lockers in front of him. Fortunately, he knows that Hinata’s locker is somewhere around the left side. Unfortunately, that’s the only information he has any knowledge of. He can already hear Osamu’s voice calling him an idiot.
He tries to recount what had happened earlier. Which locker did Hinata use to stuff his clothes into? He takes a gamble and puts it into the second to last locker. Life is a gamble anyways and Atsumu is positive that he is a mafia leader in this chaotic casino. (There was that one time in middle school he aced his modern literature quiz by tossing an eraser he had written A, B, C and D on four sides.)
He strolls back to practice, entirely confident that he’s nailed it. “Miya, hurry your ass up and get back into position,” Meian, their ever so reliable team captain, orders sternly.
Practice continues normally for another grueling three hours. Atsumu is the first in the locker room to collect his things and dash out of the building without even showering. His initial plan was to stay and see Hinata’s reaction, but halfway through practice, he had assured himself that he is indeed as much of a coward as Osamu thinks he is. His teammates gave him a few confused glances only to be completely ignored by Atsumu.
He feels a mixture of his nerves and giddiness as he walks towards the subway station. Hinata would probably text him about it later, right? He may need Osamu to hold his hand for emotional and moral support.
He ignores his twin brother’s glare as he enters the home, knowing fully well that his dried up sweat must smell like a dirty sock worn by someone with foot fungus. He throws his gym bag into his room and takes a shower after checking his phone for a concerning number of times.
He sits on his bed dressed in only his bathrobe as he refreshes all his social media platforms to find any sign of Hinata reading his letter and accepting his (overly exaggerated) undying love which in reality is really just a crush. He tries disconnecting and reconnecting the Wi-Fi to no avail and finally gets dressed once Osamu yells at him to help and make onigiris for the business.
“What happened?” Osamu asks with a flat voice. Atsumu hates how his womb mate could always see right through him. It’s not like he’s made out of glass.
“Whatcha mean?” Atsumu tries not to sound like there's a shoe up his ass. “I have no idea what yer pokin’ at.”
“Yer ain’t eating dinner if you don’t tell me,” Osamu threatens. “The seaweed yer cuttin’ there is gonna look fucked up too and if somebody gives me a bad review on Yelp I’m gonna kick ya out.”
Atsumu frowns. He thinks it’s better to tell Osamu sooner than later because he won’t stop prying anyways. “I gave Shou-kun a love letter,” he says. Simple and short.
His brother looks at him, amused. “What’d he say? Did he call ya a creep and sock ya? I can do it for ‘im if he wants.”
Atsumu has to fight the urge to fling a plum at his brother. “No. Ya see, I didn’t actually give it to ‘im. I slipped it in his locker and ran away before he found it.”
Osamu hums, “Explains why ya came home smellin’ like some rat. Got any response yet?”
The blond shakes his head. “Nah.”
“Ya got practice t’morrow anyways. He’s gotta face you or vice versa.”
“We’ll see.”
The next day, Atsumu arrives half an hour early. He’s not surprised that he isn’t the first one there though; not when you have Sakusa Kiyoomi on your team. “Mornin’ to ya too, Sakkun,” he greets.
“Miya,” Kiyoomi greets back. “I need to talk to you.”
“Oh? That’s a line I’d never thought I’d hear from ya.” Atsumu rubs some Tiger Balm onto his aching achilles tendon.
Atsumu can hear Kiyoomi rummage through his duffel bag. “About this.” He waves an envelope in the air. It’s pink. It’s torn open too. It also smells like Atsumu’s cologne. Atsumu can hear his inner thoughts calling an emergency meeting. He had used up all his poker chips of luck on that modern literature roulette and now thugs are knocking on his door with bats in hand to collect his debt.
“Sakkun, where’d ya get that?” Atsumu asks, even though it’s so painfully obvious that the second last locker is apparently not Hinata’s.
“Look, Miya, I read the entire thing more than thrice yesterday and it’s kind of nice that you think my eyes sparkle under the gym lights and that your body tells you to toss to me at any given opportunity,” Kiyoomi quotes the letter, not noticing Atsumu’s struggle to hide any signs of panic. “I thought about it a lot last night.”
Atsumu can see the slight red tint creep onto Kiyoomi’s ears and cheeks. That’s a look on Kiyoomi that Atsumu’s never seen before. “Sakkun,” Atsumu starts. He has to somehow explain that the letter was not meant for him. But, Kiyoomi starts to speak again,“I think it won’t be that bad… If we start a relationship.”
His back is facing Atsumu now, as if to avoid embarrassment. The setter thinks it’s ironic because Kiyoomi isn’t the idiot who sent a love letter to the wrong person. Atsumu may be a dick at times, but he’s not heartless. He’s actually a real softy for love. Kiyoomi is telling him that he wouldn’t mind sharing an intimate relationship with him. Atsumu can’t just crush his hopes for a potential lover.
“That’s fantastic! Ya had me worried yesterday. Wouldn’t hurt to text me, ya know,” Atsumu lies.
“Sorry. I wanted to tell you face to face,” Kiyoomi apologises.
Atsumu is in dangerous territory now. Firstly, he’s lying about his feelings. Secondly, it’s Kiyoomi he’s lying to. This is going to turn out so bad. Just then, as if the Gods heard Atsumu’s cries of panic, Bokuto enters the room, throwing enthusiastic ‘good morning’s at Kiyoomi and him.
Practice carries on as usual today and he can’t help but steal a few glances at Hinata every now and then. He has also caught Kiyoomi looking at him more than once already. His mind isn’t in a very good state and the coach asks him if he’s sick because half a dozen tosses of his have been missed. Obviously, he’s not. He’s just thinking about how he should break it to Kiyoomi because he can’t possibly lead him on like this.
He thinks that it would probably go down a bit like:
“Ya see, Sakkun, there’s been a kinda mistake here,” he starts. “I put the letter in yer locker by accident. It wasn’t actually meant for ya. I’m really sorry.”
Kiyoomi looks at him and waves him off, “It’s okay. Mistakes happen all the time.”
“See ya t’morrow, Sakkun,” Atsumu bids him goodbye.
He replays the scenario in his head a couple hundred times as the coach concludes practice for the day. He can see Kiyoomi approaching him at the corner of his eye and he takes a deep breath. It’s now or never. “Miya,” Kiyoomi calls him.
“Anything I can do for ya, Sakkun?” he realises that practically everyone is staring at them because Kiyoomi never approaches anybody at all. So, maybe now is not the best time to let the cat out of the bag.
“Let’s eat dinner together later,” Kiyoomi offers. Atsumu can’t find it in himself to turn him down so he says, “Whatev’r ya want.”
Atsumu walks out of the building after taking a shower this time to find Kiyoomi already waiting for him. They exchange a short nod before Kiyoomi takes the lead and starts walking. Atsumu follows him right at his side. “Where are we goin’?” Atsumu asks in an attempt to start a conversation.
“A sushi shop,” Kiyoomi answers. “I like it there. It’s clean.”
Atsumu chuckles. “‘Course it is.”
They occupy a booth at the end of the shop. Atsumu can feel his stomach churn at how wrong he is for doing this. He tries to tell his stomach to calm the fuck down as his eyes rake over the menu. Maybe he can break it to Kiyoomi through dinner. They both place their orders and the atmosphere is a tad bit awkward when the waiter leaves.
Surprisingly, Kiyoomi is the one to speak up first. “I’ve never done this…” He gestures at the empty space between Atsumu and him. “This dating thing.”
Atsumu is a bit taken aback by the statement. Even a blind man can tell how attractive of a guy Kiyoomi is, so it is a little shocking to the setter that such a hunk of a man has never had a relationship. Then again, Kiyoomi is like a sea urchin, prickly all over the place.
“Ya gotta be kiddin’ me.” Atsumu pokes his finger. “What ‘bout yer first kiss. Wait, Sakkun, are you a virgin?!”
The wing spiker shushes him. “I’ve slept with people before.” There’s an evident blush rising to his cheeks already and maybe, just maybe, Atsumu finds it a little endearing.
“Oooh, who’s yer first? Do I know ‘em?” Atsumu wiggles his eyebrows.
“No,” Kiyoomi says. Atsumu looks at him intently, urging him to continue. The spiker sighs in defeat. “It was after Nationals during our second year. She was a third year in my school.”
The setter reels back in shock. He hadn’t expected Kiyoomi to lose his v card at such a young age, and he beat Atsumu to it! Atsumu only did the do when he graduated. “Damn, never woulda thought ya had the balls to put yer mitts on someone. And she’s yer senpai. Not bad, Sakkun.”
The blush on Kiyoomi’s cheeks is visibly deeper and Atsumu hates (does he really, though?) to admit that it’s kind of adorable. “Shut up and eat.” Kiyoomi straightens up as their food arrives. They enjoy their meals in a comfortable silence and Atsumu has yet to say something about the disaster he has caused.
They walk to the subway station together since they live in the same district anyway. This is very new information to Atsumu. “I hope this goes well,” Kiyoomi’s muffled voice sounds behind his mask.
“Hope what goes well?” Atsumu asks, confused.
“Us,” the taller supplies shortly. Atsumu can feel his breath get caught in his throat. It’s too late. He can’t tell him now. Not when Kiyoomi already looks at him with a different glint in his eyes that doesn't scream annoyance. Not when Kiyoomi likes the idea of having his first real relationship with Atsumu.
Atsumu pushes down all of his worries for now, focusing on the hopeful man in front of him. “Yeah.”
Osamu is watching something on the TV when he gets home. Atsumu makes a beeline towards his bedroom and screams into his pillows. He plops himself down on the other side of the couch after changing into his most comfortable clothes. “Samu, I done fucked up.”
“Go figure.” Osamu switches off the TV. “What? Did Hinata-kun really sock ya? Yer face looks fine and dandy to me.”
The blond grabs the throw pillow behind him and buries his face into it. “I put the letter in the wrong locker.”
Osamu bursts out into laughter at that. “Good to know I’m still the smarter one. Who’s the unlucky lad that got it instead?”
“Sakkun.”
“Holy shit. Yer serious, right?” Atsumu nods reluctantly. “What’d he say ‘bout it? Oh my God. Did he sock ya?”
Atsumu glares at his brother. “He accepted my ‘confession’.” He signals quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “Samu, he was talking ‘bout how he liked the idea of us being together and he didn’t say it with his usual meanie voice and I jus’... I couldn’t tell him!”
“Yer a fuckin’ idiot.”
Atsumu wails, “Tell me something I don’t know, would ya?”
“Ya can’t hide it forever, ya know? Do ya even like the guy like that?”
“Of course not. Did ya already forget about Shou-kun?”
“Right. Ya better fix this fast though. ‘Cause I know if not both then at least one of you are gonna get hurt like this,” Osamu advises.
Atsumu sighs. At least tomorrow is an off day and he can just wrap himself into a blanket burrito and hopefully die like that. Then again, Osamu would probably drag the slug of his brother out of bed.
His head feels heavy as his hand blindly slaps around his nightstand for his phone. He had expected it to be noon by now, but his body has been programmed to wake up no later than nine in the morning. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to roll out of bed and take a shower.
He isn’t surprised to see Suna in their kitchen with Osamu. He’s still wondering when his brother will move in with the other so that he can have the apartment all to himself. Atsumu’s phone vibrates in his pocket.
sakkun
hello
do u want to go out?
Atsumu lets out a sigh at the texts. His plans to die as a blanket burrito have been postponed to next Friday. Just how long can he keep this facade of his going? He replies nonetheless. He doesn’t want to come off as rude.
mmm sure
where to¿
i can go to your house
or do u want to come over?
Atsumu glances over to the kitchen at his brother and his boyfriend. He debates if being alone with Kiyoomi would be better. He hasn’t told Suna anything so he decides that going to Kiyoomi’s house wouldn’t hurt. He’s never been there anyways.
samu is here w his bf so i’ll go to yours
ok
He never realised that Kiyoomi’s house is only two stops away as he gets off the bus. Kiyoomi’s humble abode smells entirely of lemongrass. There are already two diffusers sitting on top of the shoe cabinets by the entrance. What else can you expect from the god of hand sanitizer himself though?
Atsumu shifts awkwardly at one end of the couch as Kiyoomi is preparing him tea. He definitely does not startle when the cup is placed on the coffee table in front of him and he definitely does not botch his sorry excuse of a thank you.
“What do you want to do?” Kiyoomi asks.
He doesn’t know the answer to the question, only now remembering that he just came over without a plan in mind.
“We can watch something, if you want,” Kiyoomi suggests and Atsumu nods.
“What d’ ya wanna watch?”’
“What do you usually watch?”
Atsumu needs at least a second for the question thrown back at him to fully process in his mind. Kiyoomi had never shown any signs of care to any of the team members and here he is, asking Atsumu what he watches at home. “Ah, I usually watch movies and anime.”
Kiyoomi hums. “Is there anything you want to watch?”
“I was always thinkin’ of watching Given,” Atsumu sputters out mindlessly. Kiyoomi looks at him in confusion. The setter giggles. “It’s an anime, Sakkun. We don’t hafta watch it. You can watch the stuff you wanna watch, too. I don’t mind.”
Kiyoomi shakes his head. “No, let’s watch it.”
He puts on the anime series on his television and sits back comfortably into the couch. There’s a gap between both of them, so Atsumu scoots closer because he doesn’t want Kiyoomi to feel like he’s uncomfortable with all this. He can see the twitch on the other’s lips at the action and he feels a little accomplished about that.
They speed through the first five episodes without a break and Atsumu is starting to get pins and needles. He’s also getting cold from the air conditioner placed right above the television. Kiyoomi leaves to a room wordlessly and Atsumu can't help but wonder if he has done anything wrong. The worry washes away when the spiker comes back with a bundle of blankets.
He dumps most of it on Atsumu who lets out a muffled shout. He keeps one to himself and snuggles back into his spot. Atsumu becomes the blanket burrito he was earlier in the day. He can’t lie, the blankets smell like heaven. He takes a mental note to ask for the detergent Kiyoomi uses.
“Are you hungry?” Kiyoomi asks as they finish another episode.
“Could use somethin’ ta eat,” Atsumu replies as his fingers swiftly fly to the remote for the next episode.
Kiyoomi grunts in agreement. “What do you want? I’m ordering.”
“Anything we can share. Like a KFC bucket.”
“Are you sure we can finish that?”
Atsumu looks at him with the face of an overenthusiastic salesman. “C’mon, Sakkun. We’re both pro athletes! We needa stock up on our protein.”
The other snorts. “You’re only going to get fatter if you eat fried chicken like this and proceed to call it ‘protein’.”
Atsumu gasps dramatically. “Whatcha mean ‘fatter’?! Are ya tryna say that I’m already fat? Sakkun, how could you?! And here I thought I was the apple of yer eye,” he feigns hurt.
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. “You are. And I would care less if you were fat. I’ll still like you.”
A blush starts to creep up Atsumu’s cheeks. Huh. Exactly how much does he like me, anyways? Atsumu thinks. “Whatever.”
Despite having so many snarky remarks about eating fast food, Kiyoomi finds himself setting down an entire bucket of fried chicken on his newspaper-lined coffee table. Heck, he even ordered a large drink for each of them. “Thank you, Sakkun,” Atsumu purrs and sinks his teeth into his free food.
They stop their binge session to clean the place up because Kiyoomi can’t stand the mess in his living room. As predicted, Atsumu consumed three quarters of the food and Kiyoomi calls it inhuman. They resume watching soon, since Kiyoomi cleans everything quickly with ease.
Atsumu pulls the blankets up to his face as an emotional scene starts. He tries to convince himself that he won’t cry. He isn’t convinced. As a flashback plays and the main protagonist yells at his now dead ex-boyfriend during a fight, asking if he would die for him, a tear slips down Atsumu’s cheek.
He sniffles and he can see Kiyoomi peering over to him. He still doesn’t say anything though. Maybe he wants to finish watching the heart wrenching scene first. Atsumu wipes his tears off with the blanket, knowing that the spiker would tell him off for it. He still doesn’t say anything though.
The scene ends with the two main protagonists sharing a kiss in the heat of the moment and Kiyoomi finally speaks. “Did you actually cry?”
“So what if I did?!” Atsumu defends himself. “‘t was really sad, okay? You’re the weird one for not cryin’.”
“I never said it was weird…” Kiyoomi mumbles. “Do you want a hug?”
Atsumu accepts because he’s afraid the other would feel bad if he didn’t. Kiyoomi opens his arms and Atsumu wraps his own around the spiker’s neck. Atsumu can feel the strong biceps circling around him gingerly. He feels warm all over. This is new.
He can’t help but wonder how different this would be if it was with Hinata. There’s a significant difference between Kiyoomi and Hinata. You’d have to be both blind and deaf to not see it. Hinata is always chattering happily with a smile that rivals the sun plastered on his face. Kiyoomi is always quiet and tucked away at a corner away from any breathing being to avoid any possible human contact.
Hinata is small and compact. Kiyoomi is bigger and broader than Atsumu. Hinata has bright wild hair. Kiyoomi has perfect raven curls. It would be weird to find Hinata frowning. It would be weird to find Kiyoomi laughing his head off.
Atsumu’s train of thought hits a brick wall as he feels Kiyoomi’s thumb circle the tiny bit of exposed skin at his hip. He wonders if he would be the one to comfort Hinata when they watch a sad movie. Yet, he’s here being the one comforted by the unapproachable opposite hitter of his team.
“I’m fine now, Omi-kun,” Atsumu mutters against his shoulder.
Kiyoomi doesn’t let go yet. “That’s a new nickname.”
Atsumu laughs quietly. “Only for you.” He can feel Kiyoomi smile and it tugs at his heart. This is all fake. No matter how much Kiyoomi cares for him, at the end of the day, Atsumu is faking all this. He says sorry to Kiyoomi in his head in hopes that he’s a mind reader.
Kiyoomi brings his hand up to stroke Atsumu’s hair. “Do you want to continue watching now?”
“Mm-hmm.” They pull away from each other. “You give nice hugs,” Atsumu blurts out.
“I can hug you whenever you want now.” Kiyoomi smiles.
“Thank you.” Atsumu smiles back, but it hurts him to do so.
Practices go on like normal. The only thing that has changed is that Kiyoomi is actually socialising now. Well, if you count only talking to Atsumu as socialising. Atsumu still hasn’t made up his mind. He still tries to steal a couple glances at Hinata, but now most of his attention is always on Kiyoomi who always offers a barely noticeable smile whenever their eyes meet.
“Tsum-Tsum, is there anything going on?” Bokuto asks him during their break. “I mean between you and Sakusa.”
Atsumu almost chokes on his Pocari Sweat and tries to play it off coolly. “N-No, what makes ya think that?”
Bokuto slumps down into the bench. “First off, Sakusa started talking. Secondly, he’s only really talking to you. All he says to me is ‘nice kill’ or ‘don’t touch me’.”
Atsumu doesn’t know if he should say that they’re ‘dating’ or tell Bokuto about his honest situation. Or he could say that they’re just friends. Out of nowhere, Hinata joins in too. “Yeah, Atsumu-san! He likes to ignore me sometimes too. So, are you two like a thing?”
The setter can feel his lungs stuffing up now. Life is a gamble and he wants to quit because he has to sell off his furniture to stay out of debt. Then, Atsumu’s tiny pea brain has the right to think that he should use this opportunity to experiment to see how his supposed crush will react if he is in a relationship.
“Omi-kun and I are a thing now.” He tests the waters. “We’ve been datin’ for ‘bout two months.”
“Woah, really?” Hinata beams at him. “That’s amazing, Atsumu-san!”
Hinata’s face shows absolutely no sign of distress whatsoever. Atsumu feels weird now. He can’t exactly describe it in words. It feels like his heart has dropped, but it also feels so soothing. He looks over at Kiyoomi and deduces that maybe he did gain something during his gamble in the locker room.
Practice ends in another couple of hours and Kiyoomi is already making his way over to Atsumu, most probably to ask him out to dinner again. They’ve easily fallen into a routine of eating together after work. Most of their off-days are also spent together in Kiyoomi’s apartment.
They get dinner somewhere Kiyoomi takes them. As expected, it’s spotlessly clean. Kiyoomi still wipes down the utensils before he eats though. “Omi-kun,” Atsumu calls.
Kiyoomi looks up from his plate. “Yes?”
“I told Shou-kun and Bokkun that we’re datin’.”
“Oh.” is all Kiyoomi answers. Atsumu looks at him with searching eyes. That’s all. He’d thought that Kiyoomi would maybe be a little more irritated about their relationship going public. Then, maybe he’d leave Atsumu. Just wishful thinking, so that he never has to tell Kiyoomi about the horrendous truth. “That’s fine. I guess it’s about time that we can make it official.”
Atsumu almost chokes to death for the second time that day. “Uhm, are ya sure? I mean we don’t hafta rush things.”
“I think things have been going great between us, so I don’t see the harm of people knowing about us.”
Things have been going great. Atsumu never felt like a more terrible person. He’s too deep in this shit now. There’s no easy way out anymore. “Yer right, Omi-Omi. I’m so glad ya accepted my confession.”
Liar.
Kiyoomi blinks at him for a while before returning to his meal. “It’s my pleasure, Miya.”
“Say, Omi-kun, can ya call me Atsumu now? Since we’re datin’ and all. Miya is also Samu and I wouldn’t like that.”
Liar.
“Okay…” Kiyoomi pauses. “Atsumu.”
Atsumu’s chest tightens as they eat in silence again. What is he doing? He’s not even thinking anymore when he’s with Kiyoomi. He’s been lying to Kiyoomi’s face for almost three months now.
They take the subway together again, like they have been doing for the last few weeks. They reach the stop where they have to part. Just as Atsumu walks away after saying goodbye, a large hand is clasped around his wrist. Kiyoomi pulls him and Atsumu bumps into the taller’s chest with a soft thud. “Omi-kun?”
“I really really like you, Atsumu.” is the only response he gets before his lips are pressed against something soft. His eyes flutter shut to the sensation and his arms subconsciously reach up to wrap Kiyoomi’s neck. He feels the hand leave his wrist and hold his waist.
He sighs as they part. “Me too.”
Liar.
Atsumu continues this lying for another three months. Half a year has passed now since the gamble he took in the locker room. Somewhere along the way of this shenanigans, it started to feel like they’re actually dating. He’s slept over for more than a dozen times. Kiyoomi has still never been to Atsumu’s apartment because Osamu has no idea that the setter is still keeping this relationship going. Atsumu thinks it’s a miracle that Osamu hasn’t found out yet.
He is teasing and poking Kiyoomi’s side while the room gradually fills up with players. “Hinata! Did something happen? Why are you so happy today? Well, happier than usual anyways,” Bokuto practically screams. Atsumu giggles when he sees Kiyoomi frown slightly from the loud noise.
“Kageyama finally asked me out!” Hinata announces. “I was always waiting for that idiot to confess.”
Atsumu doesn’t feel any pain when the words run through his mind. An unusual feeling is dancing around his heart, though. It fades away when Kiyoomi swats his arm away for playing with his curls. Atsumu revels in the way Kiyoomi grumbles.
Words of congratulations are thrown around the room and Atsumu feels a little light as he half-listens to Hinata gush about Kageyama. Maybe this was supposed to happen. Maybe he was always supposed to end up with Kiyoomi. He admits it’s still the most selfish thing he’s ever done.
Kiyoomi and him have already escalated to the point where they don’t mind showing tiny bits of PDA here and there. Atsumu would always walk up to him and hug his waist from behind, always certainly earning a complaint about how sweaty he is. Kiyoomi doesn’t ever struggle out of his hold, though.
As they start another round of practice matches, Atsumu is called to the side by the coach. “Your brother wants to see you. He’s out front.”
Atsumu’s eyebrows raise in confusion. Osamu had only ever come to see him at work once and that was because Atsumu had forced him to bring his lunch. He walks out to where he supposes his brother is. “And how have I earned the pleasure of being graced by the presence of ya?”
Osamu is frowning at him with disappointment. He’s pretty sure he used the correct toothbrush this morning and he turned the stove off after cooking. “Why do ya look so gloomy? What’d I do now?”
Osamu gives him a look of disbelief and anger. “ What did you do? Well, why dontcha try an’ guess. Lemme give you a hint: why the fuck were you gettin’ so touchy feely with Sakusa-kun?”
Atsumu feels like all the vehicles on the street have gone to a screeching halt. His mouth opens and closes a few times, but no words leave. He’s sure that his irises are slightly trembling right now because it happens to Osamu too when he’s caught doing something he shouldn’t. Like that one time Osamu and Suna were caught making out in the Inarizaki club room.
“You said that you would fix it! And I trusted ya to do so, Tsumu. I already warned ya; one of you is gonna end up hurt if not both,” Osamu says sternly. Atsumu keeps quiet, silently admitting defeat. His brother sighs. “This ain’t gonna end pretty, ya know.”
“I’m sorry,” Atsumu murmurs.
“I ain’t the one you should be sayin’ that to.”
“I just couldn’t tell ‘im! He really likes me, okay? Shou-kun is also goin’ out with Tobio-kun now, so I can’t even like ‘im anymore.” Can’t, not don’t. Wow, Atsumu really is the biggest asshole in Japan. “I like Omi-kun now.”
“Do ya think he’d still like ya if he knew?” Osamu questions. Atsumu pretends he doesn’t know the answer. “I came by to tell ya that we’re havin’ dinner with Ma tonight. You never answer yer phone during practice and I’d pass ‘ere on my way anyways.”
Atsumu doesn’t say anything. He just nods shortly.
“Tonight at 7. Don’t be late.” Osamu pats his shoulder before he leaves.
Atsumu rubs his face aggressively with his palms in frustration. The moment he decided to continue this relationship with Kiyoomi, he had known that he was going to get an earful from Osamu once he found out. He had also known that it would hurt like hell when it happens. He may have just underestimated how much it would hurt.
He takes a few breaths and counts to ten before heading back. Just as he swings the door open, Kiyoomi is standing there with his arms limp at his sides. His eyebrows are stitched together, but he doesn’t look angry. It’s different. He looks sad. His bottom lip is caught in between his teeth.
Atsumu looks at him wearily. “Omi-kun, why’re ya here?”
“Coach told me to ask you to hurry up,” Kiyoomi says, but his voice sounds like he hasn’t had a sip of water for an entire week.
“M’kay, I’m comin’ back now. Say, are you okay? Ya look kinda out of it…” Atsumu trails.
“When were you going to tell me? Or did you even plan on telling me at all?” Kiyoomi breathes out. The limp arms at his side are starting to shake.
Atsumu laughs nervously. “What are ya talkin’ ‘bout, Omi-Omi?”
“Did all of this mean nothing to you? Was I just there for you so that you’d have someone if Hinata didn’t want you?” Kiyoomi steps closer. Atsumu regrets looking at him in the eyes. They’re glassy and full of hurt and confusion. “D-Did… Did I mean nothing to you?” he asks in a shaky voice.
“What d’ ya mean? Y-You mean the most to me...” Atsumu diverts his gaze to the ground.
“I don’t believe you…” Kiyoomi grabs Atsumu by the collar of his shirt. The blonde flinches at the sudden movement. “Say that while you look at me. Atsumu, look at me, will you?!” Kiyoomi pulls him forward.
Atsumu can’t move now that he is faced with his bitter reality. Really, how did he think this was going to play out anyways? Life isn’t some fairy tale and Atsumu has always been well aware of it ever since Osamu told him he was quitting volleyball after high school. Maybe he just wanted, no needed, to indulge himself in a sweet lie for a while.
He had forgotten to take account of how it wouldn’t only hurt him when the truth revealed itself. He hadn’t known it would hurt this much to see the person he likes get hurt. Especially when the reason is himself. All he wants to do is wriggle out of Kiyoomi’s iron clutches and run to the rooftop of the building so he could jump off. If he didn’t die the first time, he’d just have to do it again.
“Kiyoomi, I’m sorry,” Atsumu whispers softly. He hears Kiyoomi’s heavy breathing stop abruptly and the hold on his collar is gone. “I meant it, though. That you mean the most to me.”
“D-Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”
“But, I do—” Atsumu tries to defend himself, but he’s already walking on a string of thread.
It snaps.
“Don’t give me that bullshit!” Kiyoomi almost shouts. This is the loudest Atsumu has ever heard him be. “You say that as if you wouldn’t have second thoughts if Hinata breaks up with Kageyama and goes to you. Like you wouldn’t leave me immediately as soon as he snaps his fingers for you.”
Atsumu gulps. He can’t cry, at least not in front of Kiyoomi. He doesn’t have the right to. Kiyoomi is looking at him with pleading eyes. “Can you tell me honestly, please, if you’d stay with me even if Hinata tells you now that he likes you? If he isn’t with Kageyama now.”
Atsumu hesitates before he yelps out a tiny ‘yes’. You can’t blame him. He’s only human.
Kiyoomi chuckles, but it’s humorless. “Okay, Atsumu.” He sniffles. “I hope you know that I love you.” The world around Atsumu comes to a halt. “I love you so much that it hurts, that I could cry. I started liking you ever since I first saw you in high school, by the way. I tried to forget you, but then you reappeared after college. God, why won’t you leave me alone?” There’s a smile full of pain and sadness on his face. “I guess I have to try harder now; to forget. Goodbye, Atsumu.”
Kiyoomi turns around and runs back into the gym. Atsumu’s feet are frozen in place. He can only watch when Kiyoomi runs out the entrance again with his head down, his stuff messily trapped between his arms. He swears he saw the dampness on Kiyoomi’s cheeks.
Seconds later, Meian is the one to burst through the entrance. “What the hell happened?!” he shouts.
Atsumu looks at him, eyes lifeless now. “What d’ ya think? I fucked up.” He pushes past Meian who pinches the bridge of his nose. The elder ultimately decides that this matter is something that shouldn't be meddled with by an outsider like him, so he lets Atsumu go reluctantly.
Practice continues for another hour. The tension in the air is inevitable when Atsumu returns. Meian whispers something to the coach who nods. He thinks it’s funny; how quiet it is when Kiyoomi isn’t there for him to yap nonsense for hours on end at. His tosses and serves are definitely off. None of his teammates make a comment about them though.
He only manages to mutter a half-assed goodbye to the team as he heads back home, not bothering to shower. Atsumu’s chest feels heavy when he takes the same subway he always does with Kiyoomi. It only adds to the weight when he arrives at the stop where they would always part with a kiss.
Osamu gives him the side eye from the kitchen counter when he arrives home. Atsumu ignores him and steps into the bathroom to take an agonizingly long shower. Knowing better, Osamu doesn’t tell him off about it. Atsumu wants to hole himself up in his room and never see daylight again, but Osamu grabs him by the wrist before he can make it there safely.
“Put on some clothes ‘n come back out, got it? Judgin’ by how shabby ya looked, you needa talk,” he says. “If ya don’t, I’ll bring it up durin’ dinner with Ma,” he warns.
Atsumu can’t protest. He grouches before disappearing into his room. He knows he must look like a complete and utter mess because he just wore whatever his hands touched first. He’s pretty sure they’re some old sweatpants and a graphic band tee from the flea market. He drags his feet out of his room and throws himself on the sofa.
“Care to tell yer dear brother what happened?” Osamu asks as nicely as possible.
“I fucked up,” Atsumu deadpans.
“Well, I figured out that much already. Wanna elaborate?”
“Omi-kun found out.” he covers his eyes with his arm. He groans in frustration. “ Fuck, if yer stupid ass hadn’t come it would’ve been all fine and dandy!”
“Are ya sayin’ it’s my fault?”
There’s a pause. “... No.”
“What’d he even say to get ya so bummed anyways? I haven’t seen ya this mopey since that day Kita rejected you.”
“ Never bring that up in this household.” Atsumu shoots him a glare. He sighs for possibly the fiftieth time that day ever since that tragedy at practice happened. “He asked me if I would be able to stay with him even if Shou-kun told me he liked me.”
“I know yer stupid, but i know ya ain’t that stupid. You said yes, didn’t ya?”
“Of course I did.”
“Why’d he leave, then?”
“Hell do I know?!” Atsumu grunts.
“For someone who’s in the wrong, yer acting like a real fuckwad.”
Atsumu lays his head back on the couch and closes his eyes as his ears focus on the sound of Osamu shuffling around the house. “Maybe he thought ya didn’t mean it. Well… did you?” Osamu peels his eyes open.
“Stop doin’ that!” Atsumu shoves his brother’s hands away. “And yes, I meant it.”
“Yeah, right,” Osamu says with a sarcastic tone.
“What’d you say?!”
“Tsumu, I shared a womb with ya. I know when yer lying.” Osamu takes a seat beside him. “You gotta let go of Hinata-kun.”
“I’m trying.”
“Try harder!”
Atsumu wants to shout at his brother. He fails miserably and chokes on air. Osamu laughs lowly, “There’s gotta be something else botherin’ ‘im, ain’t there? Then again, I’d slap the person who went out with me outta pity. Especially when they liked someone else in the first place and had no intention of gettin’ with me.”
“Say say, why dontcha ask ‘im instead of sittin’ ‘ere doin’ nothin’?” Osamu suggests. “Yer gonna see ‘im at work anyways. There’s no avoiding this.”
Atsumu narrows his eyes at the digital clock stationed next to their television. “It’s almost seven. Shut yer trap and let’s go.”
“Hm, we can’t keep Ma waitin’ now, can we?” Osamu heaves himself off the sofa to get ready.
Dinner was a little awkward due to Atsumu’s usually talkative self being quiet for once. He doesn’t have the energy to care. He’ll worry about it later. Osamu had to drive Atsumu to work today since he had refused to move a pinky. The onigiri seller just had to take matters into his own hands.
Atsumu’s mind secretly thanks Osamu through twin telepathy as he steps into the large building. His memories replay when he stares at the entrance for a little too long, the image of a single tear rolling down Kiyoomi’s left cheek ingrained into his brain. He can only let out a tired sigh as he makes his way towards the locker room.
All his teammates greet him cheerfully, but his only response is a curt nod instead of his usual sly grin paired with a good morning. He lifts his head to look for Kiyoomi. He can’t spot the head of curly locks anywhere, though. As Atsumu lazily shoves his belongings into his locker, Meian pulls him aside from the rest.
Atsumu raises an eyebrow. “Anythin’ I can do for ya, cap’n?”
Meian crosses his arms above his chest. “Sakusa called in sick today. He said that he won’t be coming in for a few days,” he says flatly.
Atsumu’s head spins at the mention of Kiyoomi’s name. It’s getting harder to suppress his urge to scream at everyone and drop everything at the moment to just run to Kiyoomi.
“Did you know that?” Meian asks. He looks around briefly, making sure that no one is around to hear. Atsumu wouldn’t care anymore if someone is. He’s too fixated on trying to get a certain raven haired man back in his arms.
Atsumu gulps. “N-No…”
Meian’s firm gaze drops and he grips Atsumu’s shoulder. “I know something happened, but don’t let it get in the way of playing, got it? I hope the two of you can fix it sooner or later.” He squeezes Atsumu’s shoulder. “I’m counting on you.”
“Okay,” the setter replies softly.
Kiyoomi doesn’t come to work for the next three days and Atsumu’s paranoia has spiked through the roof. The rational part of his brain is telling him that the man is fine. The majority of his brain is telling him to run to his doorstep at this very moment. His last resort is to grit his teeth through practice.
He makes up his mind to go see Kiyoomi as he showers. To do what, he doesn’t know yet. He can only hope that Kiyoomi doesn’t chase him away. If this really is the end of their relationship, it might leave Atsumu more broken than he already is. His feet start to wobble as he enters the familiar elevator and punches the number of Kiyoomi’s floor.
He brings up a weak hand to Kiyoomi’s dark oak door and knocks it with a gentle flick of his wrist. He can smell the diffusers and disinfectants from the other side of the door. It all feels so bittersweet to him. There’s no answer. Atsumu isn’t even sure if the spiker is home. Knowing him, he should be.
If Kiyoomi is ignoring him, he totally deserves it. He tries again and again. There’s still no answer. Atsumu has been knocking for about fifteen minutes now. He tells himself that he’ll just try once more and if there’s still no answer, he will leave. It feels like a lie though because he continues his soft knocks for about five more minutes until his wrists start to strain.
Just as he brings his hand back again, the knob of the door slightly jiggles and the sound of locks unlocking fill the quiet atmosphere around Atsumu. The door is opened and left slightly ajar, allowing Atsumu to see a very disheveled Kiyoomi. This is the worst Atsumu’s ever seen him.
His hair isn’t neatly framing his face and his clothes don’t look like they belong to Kiyoomi. He’s wearing a baggy shirt and sweatpants. There are dark circles under his puffy eyes. Has he been crying all this while? Yet, Kiyoomi still manages to smell like fresh lemongrass.
“What are you doing here?” Kiyoomi rasps.
Atsumu grips the hem of his own shirt tightly. “Can we talk… please?”
“Why? What is there even to talk about?”
The setter flinches slightly from the harsh words. “Y-You don’t hafta say anythin’. Just please hear me out. I’ll disappear forever after that if ya want.” Atsumu doesn’t want that; he’d never want that.
Kiyoomi contemplates for a moment before letting Atsumu in. “Make it quick.”
Atsumu seats himself on the stool at the kitchen counter. Kiyoomi doesn’t make him tea like he always does. Instead, he stands on the other side of the counter, crossing his arms.
“I’m sorry,” Atsumu starts. “Before ya say anythin’, I really am. You don’t have to forgive me… but I wantcha to know that I’m not lying when I say that.”
Kiyoomi’s eyes are burning into him. “And? I’m sure you didn’t come all this way to just tell me that you’re sorry.”
“Yer right. These past few days… They made me realise somethin’,” Atsumu fiddles at the hems of his shirt. “I love you. I mean it. Everytime I looked for ya on the court and I realised that ya weren’t there, it felt wrong. It felt so weird to ride the subway alone. It felt weird not eatin’ dinner with ya. It felt weird not to send ya a goodnight selfie.”
Kiyoomi looks at him with the same look he wore three days ago. Atsumu can feel his own eyes getting glassy. Tears are already threatening to fall from the corner of his eyes.
“Kiyoomi, all these little things made me realise that I need you. I don’t wanna be lonely anymore… Please, I’ll make sure that you won’t be lonely anymore either.” The blond inhales shakily. “I don’t wanna go through another day where I don’t get to call ya mine. Please, I miss you.”
A tense minute of silence stretches out between them when Atsumu finishes. He weighs out the pros and cons of making a run for it. He doesn’t want to hear Kiyoomi’s answer is it’s going to hurt him.
“I thought I made it clear when I said I love you,” he walks to Atsumu’s side of the counter. “That those feelings won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. Hell, I’ve loved you for almost five years. I won’t give you up that easily. I was never thinking of pushing you away. I just needed some time to think… All I ever wanted was an explanation from you.”
He runs a hand through Atsumu’s bleached hair softly. The setter’s tears finally slip out as his arms wrap around the taller’s torso. He dampens Kiyoomi’s shirt with the tears rolling out of his eyes, but Kiyoomi doesn’t scold him. He continues to run his fingers through the golden strands soothingly. “But, don’t keep any more secrets from me, okay? If anything happens, we’ll go through it together.”
Atsumu nods weakly. “I promise to stay with ya forever now… So, please, ya can’t leave me either, got it?” he squeezes the fabric of Kiyoomi’s shirt.
“Of course. We love each other.”
Both of them take the day off the next day to actually talk to each other and open up about all of their feelings. A few tears are shed but it’s all worth it in the end because they know each other inside out now more or less. For once, Atsumu is reluctant to return to work as he is wrapped in between Kiyoomi’s arms. Unsurprisingly, they both do go to work the following day.
“Omi-san! You’re back!” Hinata runs up to Kiyoomi. He hates how the nickname Atsumu had given him stuck around with many members of the team. “How are you? I hope you’re feeling better.”
“Thank you. I’m fine now,” Kiyoomi says. “Except for this headache that comes and goes.
Hinata tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy. “What headache?”
Just then, Atsumu enters the room with his lopsided smile on his face. Kiyoomi points at him with a smug look on his own face. “Oh, here it comes.”
Hinata snorts at the joke and Kiyoomi smiles. Atsumu looks over at the finger pointed directly at him. “Aw, Omi-kun, were you talkin’ ‘bout me? All good things I hope.”
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. “Yes, of course.”
“Oh, yeah! I have something to ask the both of you,” Hinata looks at them with expectant eyes. “If it’s okay, I’d like to go on a double date together with Tobio! It’s just an idea though. You don’t have to if you don’t wanna.”
“We’ll go,” Kiyoomi answers for the both of them.
“Really? Wow, didn’t think it would be that easy to be honest.” Hinata scratches the side of his head. “I’ll text you the details later, Omi-san!”
Kiyoomi nods at him. He turns to face Atsumu who is already looking at him with the same smile he uses to wake him up in the morning. “What?”
Atsumu shrugs. “It’s nothin’. I just think that it’s nice now that we’re actually together.” He hugs Kiyoomi. “It makes me happy.” His voice is muffled into the broad chest.
“I’m happy with you too.” Kiyoomi leans down to steal a kiss from Atsumu. They don’t really care that Inunaki and Meian are yelling at them to stop showing off. Atsumu is happy that his gamble failed.