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Shouyou is twenty-two when he realizes: he never crowned Atsumu.
In high school, Kageyama was the King of the Court so Shouyou thought it was only logical to call Kageyama’s senpai, Oikawa, the Grand King… but he spent no thought adding the best setter of their generation to this royal family in his head.
Realization hits with an offhanded comment made by Osamu when they visit him in Hyougo and Atsumu brags about how he swept Shouyou off his feet right at the try-outs.
“He did not,” Shouyou laughs, pulling his partner close to poke at his temple with his nose. “If I remember correctly, he had an off day because of some fan event, and he did not even come out to set to anyone until the last part…”
“But then I heard from Bokkun that you were there and I set you the freak quick,” Atsumu argues. “You can’t deny that you were impressed.”
“Impressed I was, deeply,” Shouyou continues to laugh while Osamu rolls his eyes. “But I didn’t fall head over heels in love with you. Not just yet.”
His cheeky comment does not go unnoticed – Atsumu’s ears turn violently red and his expression softens to that of a content pup.
“Ugh,” Osamu comments, changing their tray and placing a new set of onigiri before them. “That smitten look is disgusting. Hinata, do something to remove it from his face.”
“I can’t help it,” Shouyou smiles, pulling Atsumu closer by his waist. “This one is far gone. I swept him off his feet.”
“Naaah,” Atsumu bickers, lifting an onigiri up, examining it with almost as much love as he looks at Shouyou. “It was my charm and you fell for it first.”
Osamu rolls his eyes. “I don’t know what your image in your head is, but you’re far from a Prince Charming, 'Tsumu.”
“Really?” his twin challenges.
“Really,” Osamu says. “You’re more like a royal pain, I wonder how Hinata tolerates you.”
Shouyou is twenty-two, sitting by the counter in the restaurant of his boyfriend’s brother, and he thinks he might have wronged Atsumu.
*
On their way back home Atsumu falls asleep on Shouyou’s shoulder.
Shouyou watches him, chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. He reaches out to tuck a strand of Atsumu’s hair out of his face and soon finds himself playing with the fake-golden locks absent-mindedly.
Kageyama and Oikawa had always been on his radar and yet, his high school memories of Atsumu are hazy at best. Somewhere it registered that he was playing against the top setter in the country. Somewhere deep inside him, he knew he was facing someone amazing but he was way more hung up over the sensation of the “Miya twins” than to take them apart and think of them as separate entities and so Atsumu, for the most part of their high school volleyball careers, registered only as one half of a set in his brain.
Shouyou can recall parts of the two matches they had against each other; he fell in love with receives in the first and he was taught that his receives were still lacking in the second. He remembers the thrill he had felt when Atsumu set the minus tempo quick to Osamu, too - and the fear he felt when Tsukishima blocked it with ease still sends chills down his spine.
Now, all those years later, Shouyou thinks about that promise Atsumu made in their first match, and it ties a knot in his throat.
He did not even know which twin spoke to him.
Atsumu on the other hand recognized him as a player worthy of his attention.
Atsumu remembered him and delivered on his promise to set to him.
For Shouyou, it took years to separate the person Miya Atsumu from the concept of the Miya twins. It was not until he joined MSBY that Atsumu’s existence really made its way under his skin, but once it did, it really stuck.
Atsumu shifts in his dream, huffing against Shouyou’s hand before he settles down again.
Shouyou smiles, drawing a circle around Atsumu’s scalp.
There, he thinks, a crown should go.
“What?” Atsumu asks voice heavy with sleep, rising to face Shouyou.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.”
“You did not,” Atsumu smiles. “I was already mostly awake. But what were you doing?”
“Nothing,” Shouyou shakes his head.
“I could feel you drawing something on my forehead,” Atsumu protests softly, nudging Shouyou in the shoulder.
“Hn,” Shouyou hums. He reaches out, sweeping the hair out of Atsumu’s forehead, planting a kiss there instead.
“Shouyou…”
“Just been thinking that I like your hair.”
*
Shouyou crowned the King of the Court with a towel folded in a circle, in the middle of the Karasuno gymnasium in the middle of their first year of high school.
The Grand King received his crown years later, in the form of a bright pink floaty on a beach in Rio.
Atsumu stands with a mop in one hand and the other on his hip in the middle of their tiny apartment doing new year’s clean-up when he receives his crown.
Shouyou sneaks up on him from behind, jumping him, pushing him against the kitchen counter to corner him and ensure that he cannot escape.
“Whoa- what?” Atsumu mumbles. The mop lands beside them with a loud thud.
Shouyou laughs, victorious. “There,” he says, planting a paper crown from a fast-food chain on Atsumu’s sparkling blonde head.
“What is it?” Atsumu reaches out, confused.
“A crown,” Shouyou says. “A proper one.”
“Proper? Paper you mean,” Atsumu snorts. “And why a crown?”
“You deserve it.”
“Is this you admitting that I am indeed Prince Charming?”
“Ha! Not quite,” Shouyou laughs, squishing Atsumu’s face between his hands and planting a giant smooch on his lips. “You’re not a prince.”
“Not a prince? Then what?”
“It’s unfair to call you a prince when Kageyama is the King of the Court,” Shouyou smiles.
“Oooh, so I’m a king now, too? What am I the king of? Overhead tosses? Service aces?”
“Don’t be so trigger happy,” Shouyou scolds him gently. “You’ll just raise your expectations and my answer will be shy in comparison…”
“There’s nothing you could say that would disappoint me,” Atsumu replies. “Especially since you crowned me.”
“... emperor,” Shouyou mumbles then, ears turning red.
“Emperor?”
“I was thinking… someone greater than a king… to raise you above everyone else,” Shouyou says, his meek voice in stark contrast of the force he pins Atsumu to the counter with. “It’s to symbolize that for me, you are the best setter.”
“Aren’t you biased?” Atsumu breathes, blushing brightly from the edge of his forehead to the cut of his T-shirt.
“I must be,” Shouyou replies, and as their eyes meet, he steals Atsumu’s lips again.
“Damn,” Atsumu says once they part for breath. “I might have swept you off your feet at try-outs, but you keep sweeping me off mine ever since.”
“Pfft,” Shouyou blows a raspberry in reply. “The thing we should be sweeping is the floor, actually.”
He steps away from Atsumu to continue cleaning, but Atsumu pulls him back flush against him. “Just one more kiss,” he asks. “In celebration of my coronation?”
“Only one?” Shouyou lifts a brow.
“We’re taking a short break,” Atsumu bargains. “No longer than five… ten minutes.”
Shouyou weighs his options carefully: on one side, he could continue cleaning out the fridge. On the other, he could continue to make out with Atsumu on the counter.
“Argh!” he exclaims dramatically, something he must have picked up from Oikawa. “Such a tough decision!”
“Shut up,” Atsumu comments, plastering a hand over Shouyou’s face. He feels his boyfriend’s laugh against his palm, breath tickling his skin.
Then Shouyou licks his palm and Atsumu lets him go, heart rate high as the ceiling.
“Shouyou?” he squeals.
“Fifteen minutes, give or take,” Shouyou says. “You deserve a full inauguration ceremony.”
If grins alone could kill, Atsumu would die on spot. He barely survives, melting into Shouyou’s inviting arms.