Work Text:
At first, it had nearly escaped your notice.
The odd silence following a perfectly set-up joke, the absence of the usual spring in his step, the ever-so-subtle lowering of his gaze onto the floor when he walked amidst a large crowd of people.
They were fleeting; short occurrences happening only in passing that would disappear as soon as another pair of eyes laid onto him. To the outside world, Miya Atsumu was every bit the confident and charismatic man that he was known as. He was the genius setter from one of the top teams in the V-League —the other half of the conductor duo in the national team. He was a force to be reckoned with; a force that struck fear in his opponents and inspired admiration in his comrades.
But the distinction to make was that it had nearly escaped your notice.
Because in spite of how hard he had tried to pretend like nothing was wrong —that everything was going just “fine and dandy” as usual— you could tell something was mulling around in his mind. Something was brewing submerged in the ocean of self-doubt that he had always secretly possessed but never spoke of.
For someone whose personality was so bright and so loud, there were seldom moments where he appreciated and yearned for the silence brought about by the night. It was a break of sorts —a momentary escape to balance out his bustling energy to recharge in introspective reflection. The dichotomy of the two halves making up the person who your love has only grown for as the seasons came and go was hard to pinpoint and impossible to describe with the limitations of written language, but you understood: he was complex and multifaceted —he was uniquely him. It didn’t make any sense how you had come to understand the subtle nuances in his behavior and interpret the underlying meaning, but you did nonetheless.
As much as he loved standing six steps behind the white line of the court and staring at his opponents before him across the net as he readied his serve, it could be argued that his love for sitting outside in his backyard on the wooden porch counting the stars in the night ran even deeper. On occasion you would join him, sitting side-by-side with your shoulders touching as the two of you enjoyed the quiet silence that fell between the empty spaces, though you often opted to leave him alone on most nights, allowing him to wander through his thoughts at his own pace. Your heart held a soft spot for the sight of Atsumu’s head tilted skywards as his eyes rolled across each glimmer in the distance in awe with serenity and tranquility wrapping around his form.
Tonight was no different: once again, you had found him sitting in the back porch by himself staring up at the night sky once you got out of the shower. Yet, there was something different about the expression on his face this time. The gentle smile he always wore as he gazed up at the moon was absent, having been replaced by a melancholic glint in his eyes as his lips drew into a tight line.
“You’re not yourself,” you noted, resting your hand on Atsumu’s shoulder as you sat down next to him on the edge of the porch. “Haven’t been for a while.” He looked over at you and then quickly turned away, his gaze fixed upon the soft grass tickling his bare feet.
“It’s nothin’,” he grunted as he shifted his hold on the edge, moving his joints so daintily it was as if he was checking to make sure they were still working.
“Doesn’t look like nothing to me,” you laughed, walking your fingers along the wooden planks to meet his with the metal band on your finger pressed against the one sitting on his fourth. “And I think I know what’s up, but I’m going to let you say it yourself.”
He sighed as he squeezed your hand, his other running through his hair as he glanced over at you, chocolate brown meeting (e/c) for the first time this evening.
“What...” he started, his voice quiet and hesitant: a far cry from his usual rambunctious attitude. “What if I’m not cut out for this?” he continued in a hushed whisper, his eyes staring so intently into yours as if pleading you for an answer. “Bein’ a boyfriend, a fiancé... a husband even... That stuff’s already crazy enough, and yer there ta smack some sense inta me when I act outta line, but… bein’ a dad?” He paused to take a breath, his eyelids firmly shut as he tried to hide from the incessant worries infiltrating his thoughts as of late.
“What if I mess this up?” he whispered through a rueful grin, his voice shaking with uncertainty.
“Why would you think you’d mess this up?” You moved your free hand to hold up his cheek, your smile softening when you felt Atsumu relax into your touch. “You’ve been a star student throughout this whole pregnancy thing,” you laughed.
He frowned into his smile with a light shake of his head, his bangs falling into his eyes. “Cause ‘Samu’s always been the calmer twin, and Aran’s always been there ta yell at me if I’m not actin’ my age and stuff, y’know? And Kita-san’s always there ta watch ma back and all…” He looked up into the night sky as he exhaled, closing his eyes once again and allowing the evening breeze to sweep through him. “I just… dunno if I’m gonna be a good dad and everythin’ I guess.”
Your hand trailed down his arm to interlock your fingers in his once again. You gave his hand a light squeeze as you leaned in to stare at him in the face with a brow raised in skepticism.
“How can you be so sure you won’t be any good when you haven’t even tried yet?”
He stared at you for a brief second before unweaving his hand from yours, bringing it over to his lap to join the other in a clasped prayer. “I’m just scared,” he admitted, his eyes now trained onto the intricate patterns of the wooden planks as his thumb brushed mindlessly against his index. “This is just…”
“This is just what?” you quickly challenged back, interrupting him before he could complete his sentence.
He kept quiet with his gaze still fixed on the porch, his hands unclasping and finding themselves now tracing the dips and the crevices of the imperfections accumulated throughout the years. You gently took his hand in yours once more, guiding it to rest atop your stomach.
“And what makes you think I’ll be any good at being a mother then?”
Atsumu peeled his eyes off the porch to look at where his hand now rested, his forehead marred with lines of worry. “Cause you’re you… and I’m me,” he murmured as his thumb brushed hesitantly across the cotton of your shirt.
“And your point?”
He opened his mouth to argue back, but upon finding that he lacked the words to do so, pursed his lips into a tight frown instead. You reached out a hand to brush his bangs out of his face, noting with a worried smile the downcast expression taking over his sharp features and clouding the warm brown of his eyes.
“We’re in this together, you idiot,” you laughed as you tapped him lightly on the nose with an impish smile. “If one of us messes up, then the other one will simply find a solution for it.”
He chuckled in response, breathing back to life the familiar light that flickered so brightly within the blond man. “You’ll have to clean up a lot of messes in that case.”
“I’ll have your back as long as you have mine. It’s just how it’s all going to work.” You watched as serenity found its way back to your backyard to rest against your husband’s handsome features —his lips now curving up into a gentle smile. “And you call yourself a ‘professional’ athlete in a team sport,” you scoffed teasingly, watching as Atsumu’s eyes widen in mock offence at the quip. Your husband reached over to lightly pinch at your cheeks with an exaggerated grit of his teeth, eliciting a loud laugh from you as you scooted over to the side to evade his attacks.
After a futile attempt at escaping the wrath of Atsumu, the two of you laid with your backs against the soft wood of the porch, staring up into the sky as the stars above bore witness to the moment shared between the two of you: your shoulders touching, your arms entwined.
Atsumu’s eyes had fluttered shut with his other senses heightened to savor the moment. The feeling of the gentle breeze rustling the fabric of his shirt, the smell of freshly cut grass from earlier today, and the sound of the occasional car passing through the driveway.
As the gears of Atsumu’s mind spun to commit reality to memory, he sound found his thoughts interrupted by what felt like a vibration coming from your stomach and his eyes snapped back open in confusion. He frowned as he sat back up, turning around to offer you his hand to help you up to his side.
“(f/n), are ya still hungry?”
You looked at him with a quizzical look on your face. “No? Why would you ask that?”
He scratched at his chin as he leaned in closer to your stomach, turning his head to press his ear against your shirt. “I swear yer stomach just growled or somethin’. Like real loudly. So loudly that I felt it even.”
You laughed as you ruffled his mop of blond hair, evoking a yelp of complaint from your husband. “That’s your kid, ‘Tsumu,” you giggled. “Probably overhead you fretting over being a good enough dad and wanted to let you know that they think you’ll be perfect just the way you are.”
“I’m not followin’ ya there... Ya lost me,” Atsumu said with a frown. “Is our kid hungry?”
You rolled your eyes as you smacked him on the shoulder. “You’re just messing around now, aren’t you?” you laughed as the edges of Atsumu’s raised back up into a cheeky grin.
“Maybe, maybe not,” he chuckled as he snaked an arm around your side and pulled you into his chest. He breathed in deeply, inhaling the plum scented shampoo the two of you shared.
“Do ya think...” he started, his voice fragile yet hopeful, his eyes gazing out once again at the starry night sky, “do ya think they’ll like me? Do ya think that I can be a dad they’ll be proud of?”
You nodded your head wordlessly, your hair brushing against his cheek. You leaned back to look at him again, your thumb caressing the soft skin of his cheekbones. “How can they not when you’ve put in so much effort?” you asked, feeling the rumbling vibration of a chuckle in Atsumu’s chest in response. “And for what it’s worth, I think you’d be a great dad,” you whispered into his ear as you nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck.
Atsumu sighed contently with his hand resting against the small of your back. “Guess that’s all that matters,” he hummed happily, tilting his head down to leave a kiss on your cheek.