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Atsumu never thought he'd end up dating Sakusa Kiyoomi. He definitely didn't think he could manage befriending the guy when they first met. First week of university, Atsumu didn’t even know he existed because Sakusa didn't leave his room once except for classes. In fact, Atsumu had thought Sakusa's roommate Komori had lucked out with a room to himself until the second week when he followed Komori back for some notes from the Stats class they had together from a lecture Atsumu had skipped.
There Sakusa had been, sitting awkwardly at his desk with one leg folded beneath him and the other knee drawn up to his chest as he leaned over his desk, and Atsumu couldn't help staring. After all, the guy hadn't shown up to any of the freshmen welcome events at the dorm, and Atsumu had walked right into Komori's room ready to drag him for lucking out on getting his own room.
Plus, the guy was writing in that uncomfortable-looking position and Atsumu decided then and there that it pissed him off.
"Don't touch anything," were the first words he said to Atsumu without even looking up from his textbook with Atsumu still gaping in the doorway.
By the time Atsumu walked out of the room with Komori's notes, he wanted to laugh at the guy for having such bad luck scoring such a roommate. Sure, Atsumu was stuck with his brother, but nothing could be worse than that Sakusa guy.
And then he started dating him. Somehow.
It was obviously only because he was handsome.
That wasn’t entirely true though.
Before the leaves had a chance to change color, Atsumu laughed for the first time at something Sakusa said. He’d laughed at Sakusa before, but that had mostly been behind his back to Osamu, and he would laugh over the ridiculousness of anyone having such a clean freak as a roommate. So, he was mostly laughing at Komori as well as Sakusa.
“I hate fall,” Sakusa had remarked to him early in September. Atsumu had run into him after class, so they were walking back to the dorm together mostly out of proximity than anything else. “It’s such a messy season.”
Atsumu raised his brows at that. He’d never heard anyone talk about weather like discussing the cleanliness of a restroom.
But Sakusa carried on like it was a normal conversation to be having with a near stranger who happened to be his neighbor.
“I’m serious. People like fall because they think it looks nice, but if you think about it, there’s maybe three worthwhile days out of the entire season. For the rest of it, the leaves are ugly and brown, and they’re everywhere. Then, it rains and the ground gets all muddy, so then you have mud and leaves on your shoes all the time. That’s not even mentioning flu season.”
Atsumu was holding in his laughter like it might explode out of him by the end of Sakusa’s rant.
“It’s almost as bad as when everything melts at the end of winter.”
“Okay,” Atsumu managed to get out without laughing. “So then, are there any seasons you do like?”
Sakusa gave the question a second of thought, his face set in that serious line above his mask Atsumu always saw on him when he was out in public. “No,” he finally said, simple as that.
And laughter burst past Atsumu’s lips. He couldn’t hold it in another second.
Sakusa was hilarious, he decided then, but not of his own volition, which made it even better.
Atsumu asked Sakusa out on what he considered one of the three best days of fall, and with a confused wrinkle between his eyebrows, Sakusa said, “Fine.”
The first month of dating Sakusa was a rollercoaster. Atsumu should have expected as much because he hardly knew the guy before jumping to ask him out. They hadn’t exactly been friends either. Honestly, Atsumu still couldn’t fathom why Sakusa had agreed, and he was consumed by that doubt during the first month, if only because Sakusa wasn’t as straightforward as Atsumu had initially thought.
He was definitely blunt to a fault. Atsumu learned that quickly. Even still, though Atsumu was used to people not liking him—even dating Sakusa, his standards were pretty low—it still threw him when he realized just how distant and cold Sakusa could be without truly meaning it.
At first, they didn’t see much of each other. They were in completely different departments—Sakusa in psychology, Atsumu in engineering—so on most days, they were in different buildings on opposite ends of campus. Sakusa refused to let him hang out in his room if Komori was around because he didn’t want Atsumu to interrupt his cousin’s studying with his big mouth. Sakusa had told him that directly. And Atsumu was too embarrassed by whatever Osamu might do if he saw the two of them in theirs.
All Atsumu had to do was imagine the teasing that would undoubtedly follow, and he’d be left cringing for the rest of the day.
Sakusa also seemed to have no desire to track him down beyond their dorm, so if Atsumu didn’t memorize his schedule, he probably wouldn’t see Sakusa at all. Osamu called it creepy. Komori said it was cute, in his passive, almost condescending way of saying whatever Atsumu wanted to hear.
Sakusa didn’t say anything, just appeared as though he was suffering through Atsumu’s presence. As usual.
And during that first month, Atsumu second-guessed everything Sakusa did that he couldn’t interpret, every word that came off as uncaring, every sigh that escaped his lips when he found Atsumu waiting after class.
Atsumu was good at not letting each little thing get to him. He was used to dragging on people’s nerves, plucking them with increasing force to see how far he could get until they snapped.
But then each of Sakusa’s little ticks—while something he could brush off individually—started to snowball. A sigh after class, Atsumu the only one talking all the way back to the dorm, the hunched shoulders, the slight twitch of Sakusa’s brow, and the way they pinched together.
Atsumu was an expert at seeing the mounting signs of annoyance on other’s faces, especially when he was the cause of it.
But he couldn’t interpret those signs on Sakusa. Well, he could, but then the fact of the matter was Sakusa was still dating him. In other words, Sakusa hadn’t broken up with him yet. Which meant all those signs were suddenly illegible to Atsumu.
For a solid week, he nearly drove Osamu up a wall with his mini-meltdowns each time he stepped into their room after walking back with Sakusa. They were brief bouts of whining and ranting. Osamu was the one who dubbed them mini-meltdowns as opposed to his full-blown ones. He said this was because Atsumu didn’t need to physically hit something before he got over it. He didn’t even need someone to shout back at him to get over it, though Osamu was there by default and couldn’t escape.
Depressed evenings followed during those days, full of moping around under Osamu’s glare before eating ice cream for dinner at the cafeteria.
Then, just as those instances had snowballed together, there was bound to be one that made him snap. If it had been Osamu, Atsumu would have snapped back at once, determined to get to the bottom of it right then in there.
But it wasn’t, and he didn’t know Sakusa as well as he knew his brother, no matter the fact that he was the one dating him.
And unlike anyone else, Atsumu didn’t actually want to drive Sakusa away.
It all started with Atsumu doing something dumb, because no matter if he thought Sakusa was having second thoughts about dating him, Atsumu was determined to do at least something to prove to himself that they were. Make or break.
Most of the trees had lost their leaves by then. The groundskeepers were doing a good job at keeping the sidewalks clear, but no matter where they went, leaves were blowing all over the place. It had just rained the other day and Sakusa was being pricklier than usual.
Like a distressed porcupine, Atsumu thought but didn’t say out loud.
And what was the smart thing to do with any sharp creature? Clearly, Atsumu concluded, offer it your hand.
It was about time anyway, he figured. They hadn’t done one thing remotely in the realm of boyfriends and relationships, and even if they were taking it slow, Atsumu didn’t think he could stand it any longer.
If anything could combat the sighs and the distance between them, this would be it.
So, halfway back to their dorm, after minutes of overthinking and weighing the pros and cons, Atsumu reached out his hand.
The second their fingers brushed sent a thrill of butterflies in Atsumu’s stomach, but the same second, Sakusa snatched his hand away. It happened so fast that Atsumu even doubt that he had made contact. Sakusa held the offended hand to his chest, leveling a glare Atsumu’s way.
“Don’t,” he said, just like the first words he’d spoken to Atsumu.
Don’t touch anything.
If he were Osamu, Atsumu would have crashed into him right at that moment. Probably would’ve wrestled him to the ground and forced him to say what he really meant.
Atsumu knew how to deal with Osamu. In fact, Osamu was probably the only one he knew inside and out, and it was everyone else who was a mystery. Even Sakusa. Because with Sakusa, Atsumu had only known him three months. If he crashed into him, Atsumu didn’t know for sure that Sakusa wouldn’t break.
So, biting his tongue, Atsumu stormed off. He didn’t speak to Sakusa or track him down after class for three days.
He was avoiding him. He knew it. Osamu knew it. Even Komori probably knew it because it wasn’t easy to avoid the guy who lived just down the hall.
Atsumu would have been content to avoid his problems for the rest of the semester if Osamu hadn’t come back one day as pissed off as Atsumu was miserable.
“You’ve never had a problem sayin’ what ya wanted before,” he said harshly. “And so what if Sakusa hates ya? Since when have ya cared about that?”
Atsumu pulled the blankets higher up over his head. “I don’t care if he hates me. I just don’t want him to break up with me.” He looked up at Osamu. “Is that stupid?”
Osamu scowled back. “Yes,” he said. “Because if he hates you, then he should break up with yer sorry ass, ‘Tsumu.”
Atsumu winced, but Osamu marched over to his bed and hauled him up by the front of his shirt.
“So, tell him what ya want,” Osamu said, giving him a shake. “If ya can’t be one hundred percent yerself with a person, then what’s the point of bein’ with ‘em?”
Osamu released him, and Atsumu let the blanket fall from over his head. He’d thought he was doing the right thing for once, backing off and giving Sakusa space when every part of him wanted to be closer. He just couldn’t do it because he was afraid he’d be pushed away like he always was.
But this time was different. He didn’t want Sakusa to push him away.
“If he hasn’t broken up with you yet, then he probably won’t if ya just talk to him,” Osamu continued, walking away and dumping his bag by his desk. “But do something, or else I’m gonna steal yer keys and lock you out until ya do.”
Atsumu stuck out his bottom lip. “Why can’tcha just let me be miserable?”
Osamu turned back and crossed his arms. “Because it’s annoyin’ me,” he snapped, but it lacked any of the heat if he were really upset. “Now, doesn’t Sakusa head out to his next class ‘bout this time? You always dart outa here.”
Atsumu glared at him for a second—just to let him know he really meant it—before throwing off the blanket and rushing out the door, not bothering to worry that he’d forgotten his keys. Osamu wouldn’t really lock him out. He hoped.
Just as expected, Sakusa was just ahead on the sidewalk. Huffing his irritation, Atsumu ran after him. That bastard hadn’t even waited around to see if Atsumu would show up like he always did. Even if it’d been three days. So, just to spite him and the nauseating feeling in his stomach, Atsumu did what he did best. He charged in, without really thinking, put himself in the other person’s way, and refused to budge until he got what he wanted.
And he wanted to hold Sakusa’s hand.
“Hey!”
Sakusa didn’t turn around, so Atsumu matched his pace, holding himself back from grabbing hold of Sakusa and forcibly turning him.
“Hey,” he said again, panting not from the run, but because he really did feel like he might blow chunks. He knew Sakusa was a germaphobe, so vomiting on him would probably lead to a faster breakup than whatever he might say otherwise.
“What,” Sakusa said, his voice as sharp as Atsumu had ever heard it, though it still rang flat. “What do you want? You know I have class, so what’s so important you need to talk now?”
Atsumu blinked at him, not really expecting such a cold reply. They were in the middle of campus now, not far from their dorm but right next to the fountain.
“Look, do you actually wanna date me?”
Sakusa’s eyes cut to the left, then to the right, before they zeroed in on Atsumu again, narrowing. “You really want to do this right now? If I didn’t want to date you, I would have said something.”
But his words were stiff and angry in a subtle way that Atsumu was surprised his ears even caught, but if it weren’t for that, then he would know simply by the way his nerves were vibrating beneath his skin. It didn’t sound like your average breakup, but then again, Sakusa wasn’t your average guy, which was why Atsumu liked him so much.
“Well, ya don’t act like it.”
That was apparently the wrong thing to say. If Sakusa had been angry before, he was pissed now, and Atsumu was sure anyone passing by knew it, too.
“I don’t act like it,” Sakusa parroted back. “First, you don’t shut up. Then, you just don’t talk to me for three days, but I’m the one being inconsistent with how I feel.”
Atsumu opened and closed his mouth, like a stupid, gaping fish stuck flopping about on land. He was good at saying what he wanted, but he was beginning to learn it wasn’t so easy when messy things like feelings were involved.
“It was the—you didn’t—” he clasped his hands together in front of him “—you didn’t want to hold hands.”
“You didn’t ask why.”
It was what Sakusa would have considered the worst part of fall. Plenty of kids were out of class. The rain made the ground soggy underfoot, and all the trees were just about bare. The flu was making its rounds. Classes felt empty with a couple students from each out sick. Sakusa didn’t go anywhere without his facemask now, but even so, with his face half covered, was there a bit of blush dusting his cheeks? Just under where Atsumu couldn’t see?
Atsumu stepped closer. “Ya pretty much slapped my hand away. I can take a hint, ya know, and that one wasn’t exactly subtle.”
Sakusa sighed. “Why do you want to hold hands anyway? Why does it matter?”
“I dunno.” Atsumu shrugged. “You never touch anything unless you have to. Can’t I want to be an exception bein’ yer boyfriend? Besides, I bet it’s nice, even with yer long, knobby fingers, Omi-Omi.”
Sakusa’s face pinched up at that, but it wasn’t with the same anger as a minute ago. “I have class,” he said, and Atsumu’s face fell. “Go look up mysophobia. You call me a germaphobe all the time, so actually find out what that means before you try holding my hand.” Looking away from him, Sakusa continued, “I haven’t dated anyone before, so this is all new to me. Let me get used to it.”
That was near the end of October.
So, Atsumu was patient. He’d said what he wanted, and Sakusa had said to wait for him, so wait he did.
It was an odd exchange. Normally, when Atsumu demanded too much, others just dropped him. Everyone would leave him at one point or another, even if they just need a break. The only one who didn’t leave for good was Osamu, and he couldn’t even if he wanted to.
Nobody had ever asked him to be patient. Atsumu wasn’t exactly good at patience either. When he wanted to do something, he did it. If he felt things get too complacent, he became bored and restless.
But that didn’t happen with Sakusa.
Because Atsumu hadn’t expected Sakusa to meet him halfway at the fountain. He hadn’t had any real experience with compromise before, but that fight had opened the doors. That there was more to this relationship than Atsumu voicing what he wanted. There was more than both of them hanging out between classes, not saying what they wanted, too.
Atsumu learned more about Sakusa in that fight than he had waiting around for it to happen.
Sakusa wasn’t as quiet and unassuming as Atsumu had first thought. He mouthed back and did so frequently. He always seemed to keep his distance—to which Atsumu developed thick skin—yet the more Atsumu learned about him, the closer he felt, even if it wasn’t physically. Maybe it was because Atsumu had taken Sakusa seriously. If he wanted Sakusa to work toward something like holding hands, then Atsumu had to put in the work as well.
And Atsumu did. He stayed up all night reading about mysophobia, much to Osamu chagrin. And maybe learning that Sakusa wasn’t just an antisocial clean freak helped close the distance, too.
Sakusa didn’t let Atsumu hold his hand until the day before winter break. By then, they’d been dating for three months.
It was one of those overcast but bright winter days. The sky was white with clouds, and though it wasn’t snowing, the air was bitter cold. Atsumu had already finished with his finals. Osamu had one left that afternoon, so they were both lazing around their dorm room, Osamu studying, Atsumu putting off packing for the trip home just a bit longer.
Then, he faintly heard Komori out in the hall, followed by the sound of a door closing and footsteps passing by their room. Atsumu bolted upright, causing Osamu to glance over his shoulder at him from his desk.
Atsumu hadn’t seen much of Sakusa during finals week. Their schedules were all over the place, and Atsumu was pulling all-nighters to cram in his studying and essay writing. He was lucky if Sakusa was around when he went to knock at meal times.
But those were definitely Sakusa’s footsteps outside, and while Osamu gave him a knowing roll of his eyes, Atsumu shot out of bed, grabbed his keys and his shoes and was out the door. He couldn’t do more than slide his feet into his shoes—if he were home, his mom would yell after him that he’d ruin them—but he didn’t have enough time to tuck his heels in and properly tie the laces. Sakusa was heading out for an exam, Atsumu was sure, so he couldn’t slow him down.
“If you get sick, I’m avoiding you,” Sakusa said as Atsumu caught up.
Shivering, Atsumu ran his hands up and down his arms. “I’ll just walk ya halfway then,” he said with a placating smile. It hadn’t looked as nearly as cold as it was from his window. “Besides, ‘Samu and I are leavin’ tonight. If I get sick, you won’t have to worry about seein’ me for a few weeks anyway.”
Sakusa didn’t respond.
“When do you leave, Omi-kun?”
“Not until tomorrow. I have my last final in the morning.”
Atsumu groaned. “Morning finals are the worst. Don’t stay up all night. You’ll get sick.”
Sakusa glared at him out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t think I’m the one who has to worry about that.”
“You could be a generous boyfriend and lend me your jacket.”
“No.”
Atsumu chuckled, expecting as much.
“At least put your hands in your pockets,” Sakusa continued.
“Hm, they’re alright. Like I said, I’m only goin’ halfway,” Sakusa said even though they had already passed the fountain and were heading down the sidewalk to the academic buildings.
Sakusa scoffed indignantly under his mask, and Atsumu grinned. It was his second favorite sound to hear, the first being Sakusa’s huffy laugh, but that sound was rare. It was much easier to aim for a sound of annoyance because at least when it was coming from Sakusa Atsumu knew it carried some level of fondness as well.
“Then—here.” Sakusa ripped his own hand from his pocket and grabbed hold of Atsumu’s.
They carried on a few steps like that, shoulders tense, heads looking straight ahead but hands connected. Then, Atsumu’s stomach swooped at the contact and he nearly tripped over his feet.
“Wow, Omi-Omi, yer hands are warm! I always expected them to be cold.”
“That’s just because yours are freezing,” Sakusa grumbled.
Atsumu squeezed Sakusa’s hand. “Ya know, Omi-kun. I like you a lot.”
If he looked closely, he could see the blush peeking out from under Sakusa’s mask even though Sakusa refused to meet his eyes.
“Stop,” he said. “Or else I’ll let go.”
Sakusa got better with touch after that. Atsumu wasn't sure if it was the three weeks separated with nothing but texts and phone calls when Atsumu could manage them. Talking over the phone was an absolute nightmare, especially when he couldn't see Sakusa's expressions, and then Osamu always made fun of how red his face got.
After Atsumu found out Osamu was secretly taking pictures and adding them to his social media accounts, Atsumu ended phone calls for good. Sakusa never complained, but he was definitely more open to handholding when they returned to campus in the spring.
“See? I knew you’d miss me,” Atsumu said, smug as ever, but secretly pleased when Sakusa fell back to take his hand when they were going to dinner with Osamu and Komori their first night back.
Sakusa’s eye twitched. “Texting you is the worst,” he said, but Atsumu knew he’d missed him and grinned all the way through dinner.
Atsumu wouldn’t say he was getting complacent. He’d promise himself that he wouldn’t feel that way with their relationship, especially when it took Sakusa a bit longer to get to the point other couples could reach within weeks. Atsumu refused to make any comparisons, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to push Sakusa just a little.
He’d seen with the handholding that Sakusa was fully capable of pushing his boundaries, no matter how long it took.
Besides, Atsumu enjoyed their back and forth too much. Getting under Sakusa's skin was one of his favorite things to do because he knew now that Sakusa wouldn't push him away. At least, he wouldn't push him away and now let him spring back into his good graces.
Atsumu enjoyed holding hands and the few movie nights they had when Osamu was out and Sakusa would sit just close enough for their shoulders to touch. He even enjoyed their bickering and the days where Sakusa wasn’t up to touching him at all, so long as he still let Atsumu walk with him between classes, complaining about the mud returning and the way the rain dripped onto his shoulder under the umbrella he held over both of them.
Maybe he was just touch starved in a way, but every bit of contact became something precious to hold onto, something to smile goofily up at his ceiling about in the safety of his room after the lights had gone out.
He wanted more, but waiting for it didn't seem so bad anymore.
So, Atsumu bided his time. He waited until the trees didn’t look so bare, and the flowers were starting to bloom, and Sakusa was complaining about allergies and pollen.
Finals were just around the corner again. Their first year had gone by so fast, Atsumu blamed it on having a puzzle of a boyfriend to figure out on top of his classes. He was having too much fun. Soon, summer break would be upon them and they’d be separated except for the texts Sakusa said he despised and whatever phone calls Atsumu could bear.
“Hey, Omi-Omi, how do ya feel about kissin’?” he suddenly sprung on Sakusa when he figured it was the nicest day of spring they were going to get.
Sakusa gagged and then sneezed.
Atsumu laughed.
Sakusa kissed him for the first time on New Year's Eve the next year.
They were sophomores now and sharing their own apartment, which Atsumu was apprehensive about at first. But hey, at least he was free of Osamu for the first time in nineteen years.
He didn't think he'd be as grateful as he was, but maybe that was because of Sakusa.
Living with the guy for the first time was hell. Komori got his chance that fall semester to pay him back for all the teasing their first year. It was a steep learning curve, but the trick to it was learning Sakusa routine, learning his rules.
By winter break, he was getting pretty good, but by then Sakusa was going home for break and Atsumu was staying behind instead of making the long trip home.
Atsumu crashed at Osamu’s apartment for a few days, since his roommate was also gone for break and Sakusa would have murdered him if anyone else slept in his bed. Atsumu killed time. He bought books for next semester. He played videogames with Osamu and tried not to get too angry when Osamu won and made him clean the apartment as a punishment.
“It’s not my fault you’ve gotten so good at it,” Osamu deadpanned at him the first time he objected. “Yer even better at cleanin’ than videogames anymore. Pretty sad ‘Tsumu.”
What Osamu said didn’t bug him—it was just the truth—but it did make him miss Sakusa even more. Enough so that he returned to their apartment after only a few days, to which Osamu didn’t object. In fact, Atsumu was pretty sure he was celebrating his absence and the newly returned peace and quiet.
Sakusa came back early for New Years just to hole up in their room with store-bought soba, flipping between the song festival and Downtown no Gaki no Tuskai. They were sitting on Atsumu’s bed but separately wrapped in blankets. So, though their shoulders touched, it was through layers and layers of blankets.
Then, Sakusa shifted, almost like he was going to leave. Atsumu watched him, distracted from the Koheki, which was already beginning to drag. The red team was going to win like every other year.
Sakusa had been distracting enough the entire evening, opting to sit on Atsumu’s bed, which meant he, one, trusted Atsumu had washed his sheets recently, and two, that he trusted Atsumu himself was clean enough to Sakusa's already high standards. These days, Atsumu usually met those standards. Sometimes.
But Sakusa didn’t leave the bed, just hovered on the edge with his back to Atsumu.
“Ya know, if you wanted to cuddle, you coulda just said so,” he said, hoping to draw Sakusa back. It was almost too quiet now, like someone had turned down the tv volume, though Atsumu knew neither of them had touched the remote.
“Like I’d want to cuddle with you,” Sakusa said, turning his nose up at the word passing his lips. “You squirm around too much.”
Atsumu frowned. “Yeah, how’d you even know if you’ve never done it?” he muttered. “Jerk. Gettin’ my hopes up. No fair. So what, gotta take a piss?”
“Would you just—” Sakusa cut himself off, breathing in sharply through his nose before he turned around, moving on the bed so he was facing Atsumu. Then, reaching out, he placed his hands heavily on Atsumu’s knees “—just shut up.”
Atsumu grinned cheekily. “Maybe if you asked nicely, but you never ask nicely, so I’m never gonna shut up.”
“God, you're obnoxious.” But Sakusa was inching forward, spreading Atsumu’s legs until he knelt between them.
Sakusa was never this forward when it came to physical contact, so Atsumu figured nobody could really blame him for the way he leaned back into the corner of the wall, clutching the blanket around him until he nearly turtled completely under the section pulled up over his head. Atsumu could talk as big as he wanted, and Sakusa could shy away from Atsumu initiating anything as small as reaching for his hand.
But when Sakusa decided to do something—which was rarely more than handholding or sitting so they only just made contact—when he took control, Atsumu was crowded into this now literal corner and was willing to let him take it.
Sakusa moved his hands to the blanket on either side of Atsumu’s face, partly to pull it back but also just for something to hold onto. The knuckles of his thumbs just barely brushed Atsumu’s cheek, causing his breath to catch in his throat. Sakusa stared down at him as if studying his face carefully.
“See?” he finally said, his tone as flat as ever, but it didn’t feel that way to Atsumu, whose heart was pounding a million beats a minute. “I’d say it’s a bit better when you’re quiet.”
And Atsumu opened his mouth to make a counter, but Sakusa leaned in and kissed him, a gentle press of lips that was almost fleeting in the sense that it felt like he might pull away at any second. It contrasted with how his hands fisted in Atsumu’s blanket, tipping his head back and pulling unrelentingly as if using his hold to keep his balance.
But any crick in his neck the next day would totally be worth it, Atsumu figured.
He tilted his head back, and for a breath, he felt the full pressure of Sakusa’s lips on his, but then he was gone, pulling away and hovering over him again.
“I don’t like half-assed kisses,” Atsumu said, bratty as ever, but he couldn’t hide the breathless crack in his voice.
Sakusa only stared down at him, not looking nearly as affected as Atsumu sounded. “I think you should be thankful for what you get.”
And with Sakusa, maybe he should be. One step forward with the guy took months of him working up to it, and Atsumu wasn’t a patient guy. In fact, in all the months of dating Sakusa, he had found out that patience only came to him when Sakusa was involved.
He was positive Sakusa felt the same way about him.
But Atsumu didn’t want half-there kisses with Sakusa. He almost wished Sakusa wouldn’t kiss him at all until he’d made up his mind to just do it properly.
So, Atsumu did what he does best, and he pouted up at Sakusa. “Omi-kun, if I told you I love yer kisses, then you’d always kiss me like that.” Then, he smirked. “And making out won’t be any fun if it feels like you wanna pull away the whole time.”
“Wait,” Sakusa said, and Atsumu immediately opened his mouth to complain some more, but Sakusa ducked his head and gave him another one of those fleeting kisses, his lips just barely brushing against Atsumu’s bottom lip. He pulled back again but didn’t go far. “I’ll get used to it.”