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The lights in their dorm stay the same all year long. Since it’s one of the newer buildings, there’s an irritating blue tint to the overhead lights that reflects off the white paint and makes everything feel inorganic.
He’d much rather be in the building across the street with some of his teammates, where, despite the $5,000 dollar a semester price tag, the air conditioning never works and the water pressure is nonexistent. He doesn’t know why he likes it there more. The overhead lights have a yellow tint there. Maybe it’s a weird comfort.
But here he is. 3AM. Stranded in the corner of his dorm’s fifth floor study lounge, on the fourth hour of his headache, because Bokuto fucking sexiled him last minute when he was in the middle of his evening class while he had his phone buried in his backpack.
He hates this.
His phone is dead now, his brother is asleep on the other side of the country, his only friends are a few of his volleyball teammates that are more concerned with their own inner circles, and he still doesn’t know his damn major or if he even wants to be here or not.
He misses home.
He’s curled up on the biggest seat he could find in defeat, switching between watching the street and the clock as seconds pass like hours. He tries to fight sleep, because he’d rather die than have some stranger from four doors down find him drooling at eight in the morning when they walk in with their morning coffee, but staying alert is only so easy when running on four hours of sleep with nothing to stay occupied.
Right as he thinks his anti-sleep mission is about to fail, the door creaks open, and a figure looms in the doorway.
He sits up and stretches out, rubbing at his eyes with his shirt sleeve before he locks eyes with Sakusa Kiyoomi of all people.
Sakusa’s semi-glaring at him, but it eventually morphs into confusion as he glances heat the clock on the wall.
“Aren’t you usually partying at this hour?”
Well. He wasn’t expecting that.
“No ,” he says loudly, racking his brain for the right words. “I don’t party anyways.”
Sakusa stares, disbelieving.
“Bokuto’s boyfriend is apparently in town today. And in my room. With all of the shit I need still inside it.” He says, trying to offer an explanation.
He makes a small “hm” noise and shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket before making his way to a seat nearby him. They sit in silence for a few minutes, staring out the window into the empty street below before Sakusa breaks the silence.
“I watch the cars when I can’t sleep.”
Atsumu looks over, startled by sudden noise from him. He spends a few seconds processing what he thinks are the first civil words that Sakusa’s ever spoken to him, and says, “What cars?”
“They show up, eventually” He replies. “Once five pass, I go back to bed.” He adds, not taking his eyes off the road.
Atsumu nods in response, and on cue, a single car passes.
“One,” Sakusa mutters.
He doesn’t want to break whatever weird moment they’re having, so he does his best to keep his mouth shut and look straight ahead, glancing over every so often to make sure that he’s not hallucinating the fact that he’s car-watching with the same kid who insults his hygiene once a week.
A minute passes in silence, and another car goes by.
“Two.”
That’s the first time I’ve ever seen our dorm lights make someone look pretty, Atsumu thinks absently, as he analyzes Sakusa’s side profile from the corner of his eyes.
Sakusa breaks his gaze with the street for a moment, turning to squint at him. “How the hell do you manage to be so loud even when you’re not speaking?”
“I’m not doing anything!” Atsumu defends, loudly, before realizing that it’s almost 4AM in a communal building and he quiets down to a half-whisper. “What’s your problem?”
“Nothing.” Sakusa says, crossing his arms and looking back out into the street. “I can literally hear you looking at me. It's weird.”
Another car passes, and Atsumu backs down, too tired to keep up a fight. “My bad.”
Sakusa nods. “Three. And you’re fine.”
He resists making some stupid joke in response, and they fall back into silence. His focus shifts from the road to the yellowing trees, and he thinks about how this is the first fall he’s spending without-
A car passes, significantly faster than the last three, its engine running loudly.
“Asshole.” Atsumu mutters.
Sakusa lets out a small huff of air, which, at this hour Atsumu is counting as a laugh, before saying a quiet “Four.”
He wants to build up the courage to say something while he’s here, maybe to ask why he doesn’t like him, or why he decided to come to their university specifically, or even something useless, like his favorite color, but the words won’t come to him, and he’s stuck just watching the street lights flicker on an empty road.
A fifth car passes, and Atsumu internally sighs in defeat as Sakusa stands up.
Atsumu turns in his seat and looks up at him with a grin. “Is this our emotional farewell, Kiyoomi?”
Sakusa gives him a sharp glare, and moves his gaze back out the window for a moment. “You said all of your shit is stuck in your room right?”
Atsumu nods, confused.
“Do you want to borrow a phone charger or something?” He offers awkwardly.
“Oh— Sure?” Atsumu says, surprised. “If you have one to spare that’d be nice.”
Sakusa nods and says a quiet “Alright,” before turning around and walking quickly out the door and into the hallway.
The door shuts quietly, and he’s back where he started, alone, piecing together all of the elements of their empty campus past midnight. Past 4AM.
He didn’t notice it before, but the sky is a few shades lighter than when he originally sat down. Not quite the yellow hues of sunrise, but the kind of deep blue that chases the stars away to usher in the morning.
Two cars pass by, side by side. The world is waking up , he thinks, sadly. He kind of liked the bubble that he and Sakusa got to live in for a few minutes. It was peaceful.
The door to the study room opens back up, and Sakusa comes in holding a small, pristine, iPhone charger in a plastic bag. He roughly throws it next to Atsumu, making him jolt in surprise.
“Hey-“
“If you mess up my charger in the slightest I will spike your water bottle with bleach.” He says dryly. “Do you understand, Miya?”
Atsumu nods dumbly, unsure of what to say in response. Sakusa keeps staring at him. Oh. “I understand,” he adds.
“Good.”
They sit and stare awkwardly at each other for a bit, tiredness seeping into their conversation, before Atsumu finally goes, “Do you want me to give this back when we’re both awake again or...?”
“Sure.” He pauses. “If nobody answers when you knock just put a note on the bag that says it's for me. That should probably scare anyone off from stealing it.”
Atsumu laughs. “Will do. G’night Omi.”
Sakusa scowls at the sudden nickname, too tired to fight it. He turns around to walk out, but glances back once he has a hand on the door handle. “Goodnight.”
He watches as his figure disappears into the hallway and goes to find a spot in the room where he can plug his phone.
The skyline is tinted orange now, and the colors reflect briefly on his black screen before it eventually flashes on to a cruel 4:23 AM and an even crueler lack of notifications.
He sighs. A car passes. His eyes slide shut.
He dreams of Sakusa Kiyoomi smiling under blue-tinted lights.