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Sakusa likes the feeling of a burnt tongue.
It’s a reminder, every single time the muscle hits the roof of your mouth, you remember how you drank your coffee a few minutes too early, not letting it settle and cool. You were impatient and greedy, and now, your tongue feels raw and uncomfortable as it hits the roof of your mouth.
Uncomfortable, sure, but when you’ve been deemed a powerful and untouchable force, it’s easy to forget that sometimes you too burn your tongue on hot coffee.
Miya Atsumu is like the feeling of a burnt tongue.
He’s impatient and eager, never giving himself the chance to settle and cool. He sticks with you, a whisper in the back of your mind the same way a burn subtly hits the roof of your mouth just when you’ve forgotten all about it.
Atsumu says he seems like the type to drink chamomile tea with flowers floating in his cup.
As if he’d ever take something from the dirt and put it in his drink, he counters.
Atsumu tells him coffeee beans get dirty at some point too, in the dirt just like flowers.
Sakusa says it’s different.
Sakusa likes the feeling of a burnt tongue because he too forgets that he’s alive and living. It’s hard to not feel like a mindless body sometimes. It’s hard to not feel like someone who makes mistakes when you’re made out to be a perfect being (Sakusa will never admit it, but the shitty sports tabloids make him somewhat insecure).
Sakusa likes the feeling of a burnt tongue, but not Miya Atsumu.
He couldn’t.
Atsumu is the exact opposite of Sakusa, but not in the way Bokuto or Shoyou is.
Atsumu licks shit off of his fingers and doesn’t think to wash his hands after, Atsumu doesn’t wash his chicken, Atsumu uses 3-in-1, Atsumu doesn’t clean his ears.
People like Sakusa Kiyoomi don’t fall for people like Miya Atsumu. It’s an unspoken law or something.
And yet, here he is, the needle of his moral compass starts to stray when he lets Miya Atsumu become more than just a feeling of a burnt tongue.
Sakusa likes logic. Logic is the way of the world. Things don’t just “happen.” To him, miracles are a mere fallacy for those who can’t comprehend a complicated thought process. Everything has a logistical reasoning, right?
So, what in the fuck is the logistical reasoning for him falling for Miya Atsumu?
Atsumu’s handsome, but so is Osamu, who is without a single doubt better for Sakusa. He sees Atsumu more, but he also sees Thomas just the same amount of times and he’s a way better person than Atsumu. Can Sakusa even consider Atsumu funny when all of his jokes are just jabs at him?
Ushijima was funny, sometimes. He guesses.
Ushijima was everything Sakusa could want in a partner and more, but they didn’t work out.
Sakusa still cannot figure out the logical reasoning behind that.
It is the only other thing he does not have a reasoning for.
But, he digresses.
Atsumu was like getting gum on the bottom of your shoe, Ushijima was like a fresh breath of spring.
They are not the same, not in the slightest.
No matter how hard he racks his brain, there are no similarities between Ushijima Wakatoshi and Miya Atsumu.
In movies, they all say love doesn’t make sense. There is no reasoning behind why you love people sometimes.
He never agreed.
He loved his parents because, well, they’re his parents. He loved Ushijima because he understood him more than literally any other living being on planet earth ever could. He loves volleyball because it gives him purpose. He loves irish spring because it is the only soap that actually makes him feel clean.
He loves Atsumu because…?
He is only met with radio silence when he tries to find a logistical reason for loving the poster child for the pea-brained.
He tries to find any reason, maybe even just an inkling of a reason as to how this even came to be.
Maybe it’s because Atsumu is the only person to ever give him a nickname?
Maybe it’s because Atsumu (although he likes to act like he doesn’t for whatever damned reason he can’t figure out) is understanding of his mysophobia and actually takes care of him (when nobody is watching).
Maybe it’s because he always shares his leftovers with Sakusa (and it’s good? Miya Atsumu is a good fucking cook insert insanely large question mark here?) and doesn’t even offer it to Shouyou.
Maybe it’s because Miya Atsumu is the only person he ever wants to give the time of day to.
Sakusa is written off as cold and unnerving, almost unwelcoming (according to the stupid sports tabloids), but Atsumu still, even with his reserved nature, kept badgering and trying to break through the walls of Sakusa Kiyoomi.
It’s laughable.
People like Miya Atsumu don’t fall for people like Sakusa Kiyoomi. It’s an unspoken law.
People like Miya Atsumu fall for girls who are too pretty, too kind, too sweet, too welcoming, too much of everything Sakusa isn’t.
The unspoken law twists Sakusas heart and causes a pain in his chest he’s only ever barely felt once before.
He aches for dry blonde hair and a stupid himbo accent.
Damn his stupid himbo accent.
Damn how he bought irish spring for Sakusa for his birthday.
Damn how he started to bring dried plums with him to practice just for him.
Damn how he sends Sakusa pictures of animals doing stupid things and how its insanely endearing.
Damn every single thing about Miya Atsumu.
To hell with reasoning, he hasn’t just thrown it out of the window, he threw it off a forty story building when he fell in love with the idiot.
On a summer evening, he marches over to Atsumus house.
He has no goal, no reason, no logic, nothing except him on his to see the other for absolutely no goddamn reason. Sakusa never does things without reason, but this was an exception.
They’ll probably end up sitting and watching a Charlie Brown film like they sometimes do.
Or, they might go see a movie.
Or, they might sit in the park and just talk.
He doesn’t know. He’ll figure it out.
Sakusa knocks on the door he’s faced so many times. But now, it’s different.
Atsumu answers, his eyebrows lifted in surprise as he faces Sakusa.
“Omi-kun, what are you doing here? You didn’t even text me first.”
Sakusa places both of his hands on either side of Atsumus head.
He takes deep breath that was so fast it had no impact but to have him believe he’s breathing in pure courage.
His kisses Atsumu, even with the mask blocking their way, he can somewhat feel how chapped Atsumus lips are.
Their noses knock together and Sakusa quickly goes back, he feels that his work is done.
This will probably just be something they’ll never talk about again.
Perfect. This was all Sakusa needed.
“Thank you.” He says, turning and starting to make his way home.
A hand grabs his wrist and pulls him back.
Why is he face to face with Atsumu again? He already did what he needed to do, there’s nothing more for him.
Once he’s mouth to mouth with Atsumu again, his moral compass seems to find it’s way back as the feeling of a burnt tongue absentmindedly rubbing against the roof of your mouth becomes the most satisfying feeling in the world.
Miya Atsumu is still gum on the bottom of your shoe, Miya Atsumu still doesn’t wash his chicken and uses 3-in-1, and as Sakusa finds, there is still no logistical reasoning for loving him.
He will make up his own reasoning eventually, finding his own logic within loving him.
He doesn’t need to rack his brain anymore, loving Atsumu is like the ebb and flow of the waves, it makes sense when you finally give in, he’s learned.
He can’t hear anything over the sound of the waves crashing as he rubs his tongue on the roof of his mouth, loving the feeling of a burnt tongue.