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Atsumu turned up the music to relax, reassuring himself Kiyoomi would come soon. They would drive back to the hotel, eat dinner and maybe watch a movie or two. Atsumu recently found out about how great Ghibli movies were, and made Kiyoomi watch at least two of them per week.
The rain got heavier, and Atsumu's chest churned.
Kiyoomi was going to be okay. Atsumu knew he had an umbrella by him when they got to Kiyoomi's Tokyo house. They knew it was going to rain before sunset, so they were prepared in case the rain prolonged. They didn't know they would go back to the hotel before sunset too.
Atsumu finally saw Kiyoomi's figure get out of the big house and shut the door behind him. He opened his umbrella and walked fast to the car. He got into the driver's side and opened the door, making Atsumu's skin prickle from the cold rain.
Kiyoomi entered the car and closed the umbrella fastly, closing the door. He tossed the umbrella to the back seat and put both hands on the wheel. His eyes were fixated on the blurry windshield glass, and his breathing was short.
Instantly Atsumu's senses were full-on Kiyoomi. He shut off the radio and turned to him.
''Omi-kun,'' Atsumu said.
Kiyoomi didn't respond. He was trying to take deep breaths but got short. He then grunted heavily and started to look for something desperately in his pockets.
''Omi-kun,'' Atsumu repeated, ''What's wrong?''
Kiyoomi was still looking, not meeting Atsumu's gaze. His breathing got louder, and Atsumu noticed the way his hands were shaking.
''Tell me what you need,'' Atsumu said instantly. He remembered what he once told him what to do.
Kiyoomi was suffering a panic attack.
''Where are my maks?'' Kiyoomi finally asked, looking now in the cup holders and at the side of the car. Atsumu looked for Kiyoomi's bag on the back seat and gave him his mask.
''Here,'' Atsumu said calmly.
Kiyoomi took it with trembling fingers, his eyes angry and teary. He was still grunting and his forehead was now shiny. He put on the mask and closed his eyes.
Atsumu took a big breath, ignoring his own aching feeling and the need to reach for him. Instead, he asked him softly, ''What else do you need? Do you want some water?''
''There're no water bottles in the car.''
''There's a machine nearby,'' Atsumu said, grabbing the door handle.
But he felt cold fingers against his wrist, gripping tightly, intending to not let go soon. ''Just— leave it,'' Kiyoomi told him— asking him, not to leave him.
And Miya Atsumu was weak to Sakusa Kiyoomi's requests.
''It's okay, I won't go,'' Atsumu reassured him. He leaned a little to his side but left some good distance between them, resting his hand on his wrist with Kiyoomi's. ''Would you breathe with me?'' he asked.
Kiyoomi finally looked at him, his eyes were glossy and his jaw was hard like stone. Atsumu had never seen him that angry, but it was reasonable.
But it wasn't about why he was angry, it was about how he was feeling at that moment. And Atsumu commanded his body to relax, and smiled a reassuringly when Kiyoomi nodded slowly.
''Alright, now, breath in,'' Atsumu took a big breath, counting from one to four. ''Now, let it go,'' he huffed the air on his lung slowly. ''Breath in,'' he repeated, ''breath out.''
Luckily Kiyoomi followed him on pace and eventually, both were breathing deeply and calmly. It took them a couple of minutes, but Kiyoomi's hands weren't trembling anymore. His eyes were still bitter and Atsumu wanted to kiss his forehead so bad, to try and ease those fury wrinkles. But he was okay, Kiyoomi finally calmed himself.
''Feelin' better?'' Atsumu asked, smiling softly and letting his eyes rest relaxed on his face.
''Yes… thank you,'' Kiyoomi said in a raspy voice.
''No problem','' Atsumu hoped his smile would ease some of Kiyoomi's pain and his words to ground him again, ''You did pretty well, I'm proud of ya.''
''Atsumu, don't.''
''What? It's the truth.''
''It's ridiculous and pathetic,'' Kiyoomi huffed and moved away his eyes in shame.
Atsumu took a napkin from the box resting on the side door and moved it towards Kiyoomi's forehead. ''Ya are ridiculous sometimes with those leather boots of yers, but I would never call ya pathetic. Well, maybe when you hit the net, but that's not the point.''
Kiyoomi snorted and cringed his hand away from Atsumu's wrist, but leaned on the napkin on his forehead. Atsumu smiled even more to the side, and gently dried of Kiyoomi's skin. He then grabbed some disinfectant from the cup holder and washed his hand, he then hit Kiyoomi's forehead with his index finger.
Kiyoomi immediately hit him back harder on his forehead. ''Asshole,'' he said, to then add a light slap on his cheek for good measure.
''Hey, don't be a dick,'' Atsumu snarled.
''Look who's talking,'' Kiyoomi answered.
''I am the best man on earth. Handsome, kind, and nice, I don't know what the hell are'ya talkin' 'bout,'' Atsumu said while checking his phone to look at his brother's messages.
He told 'Samu in general detail how shitty Kiyoomi's family dinner went. It was everything Atsumu expected but worse. You know, he didn't mind the ice treatment, the formality of it all, and maybe someone would be nice since Komori is Kiyoomi's cousin. Kiyoomi's parents and sisters had the possibility of being fun too.
Oh boy, he hated to be wrong but that time was prime time. Not minding the short answers, the lack of laughter at his jokes, and how bland the food was. No, Atsumu got out of that house a step away from punching Kiyoomi's father. Who had the nerve to call his son a family shame?
Why on earth did that man think that his overly talented son was doomed to failure just because his job path wasn't one with suits? Or just because he liked dicks rather than boobs?
Atsumu was fuming at the words, but what got him near ruining his knuckles, were Kiyoomi's eyes, glued to his food, unfocused.
Atsumu expected him to say something back, snark something hurtful like he usually did, hold his ground, but he was weirdly silent. And just before Atsumu could give Kiyoomi's father a piece of his mind, Kiyoomi only asked him to get out and wait in the car. That's how Atsumu spent twenty-three minutes wanting to yell at something and ranting with his brother. Who answered him, ''Don't worry, Sakusa can always be at home with us in Christmas and New Year.''
'Samu sometimes knew what to say.
Atsumu realized he never heard Kiyoomi's comeback, and felt his body tense and snapped his head at him.
Kiyoomi was looking at him calmly, he stretched out his hand and grabbed Atsumu's. Atsumu's heart gave a little yelp and he sighed, he leaned in closer and put a hand on his cheek. Kiyoomi rested his head on Atsumu's hand and closed his eyes for a moment, letting Atsumu stare at his face all he wanted. His curly lashes, his strong jaw, his stupidly perfect eyebrows, his soft curls, and the two moles that Atsumu always felt the need to turn into a happy face.
''Atsumu,'' Kiyoomi said, still with his eyes closed.
''Yeah?''
Kiyoomi opened his eyes and Atsumu felt entranced in those black orbs, looking at him unbothered, but Atsumu was sure he could see right through him like glass. Kiyoomi moved his head away from his hand, moved down his mask, and smiled to the side.
''I hate that shirt.''
Atsumu felt every fuzzy feeling and every butterfly in his stomach die, turning into annoyance and indignance.
''This is my favorite shirt, yA ASS.''
''It's hideous,'' Kiyoomi responded, turning on the car.
Atsumu put on his seat belt, ''What? Ya got anythin' against gold?''
''It reminds me of your pissy hair.''
''Now ya comin' for my hair, huh? Suck a dick.''
Kiyoomi snorted again and drove away from the house. Atsumu looked at the big square fade away in the rain and hoped to come back once Kiyoomi's feelings were settled.
''But now that I think about it,'' Kiyoomi said.
''What.''
Kiyoomi looked for his hand again, and brought it to his lips, kissing his knuckles. Atsumu felt his skin burn and his hands getting sweaty.
''Ya— ya—,'' Atsumu stuttered.
Kiyoomi brought their hands down and drove with one hand, a small smile on his lips while saying, ''Yes, you look worse like that.''
''OH FUCK YOU.''