Chapter Text
“I won’t go.”
“Look at that! Omi-kun breaking the routine and spicing things up, boys!” Atsumu parades in the middle of the locker alley with a smug grin. “Oh no, wait!”
“Leave him be, Atsumu-san,” Hinata says, swaying his wet towel at the setter as he walks by with his eyes locked on Sakusa in a provocative taunt.
“It’s okay Tsum-tsum, I’m sure he’s busy!” Bokuto joins, slamming the metalic door in front of him to slung his bag over his shoulder.
“That’s quite right,” Sakusa offers, clearly resisting the urge to flip Atsumu off, turning toward his other teammates instead. “I’ll be busy not losing half my brain cells to cheap beer and not puking my guts out on the cute waitress who’s trying to collect my empty glass of said cheap beer.”
“Fuck off!” Atsumu all but roars, as everyone around chokes and snorts as loudly as mockingly. “That’s foul play! Omi-kun, no! It happened once, how could ya—It’s slander, y’all do somethin’—”
Atsumu’s shouts of protest are drowned in a concerto of laughter as Sakusa just quirks an eyebrow at him, the corner of his mouth curling into an evil smirk right before it disappears behind the mask he snaps back into place.
Atsumu would pretend he hates that he can read Sakusa like an open book, mask or not, but that would be admitting he’s focused enough on him to be able to do that, and that would be quite... he doesn't need that, right now.
Cheap beer it is, lots of it.
Twenty minutes later, he ends up in front of the building, ready to head back to the dorms to dump his stuff before joining the others at the bar, but his plans get a little derailed.
Sakusa is standing there, near the bus stop, phone hung to his face as he roams the sidewalk back and forth. He seems deep into whatever conversation he’s having yet Atsumu can’t help but hear the “it’s perfectly fine, I guess you can call me back when you know. Yeah, let’s do that, then,” which sounds a lot like the conversation is coming to an end.
Naturally, Atsumu finds himself walking over to his teammate without even realizing, painting a pout of choice over his face as he approaches.
Sakusa does hang up, having noticed him the moment he got out of the building and he eyes Atsumu with suspicion while the other man closes in.
“I thought you’d be heading to the bar,” Sakusa starts, throwing his hands inside the pockets of his MSBY branded overcoat.
Atsumu raises his duffle bag in response.
“‘m headin' home first. You clearly don’t deserve my company but we can head back together if ya want,” he offers.
Sakusa shifts the weight on his feet, tilting his head to the side and Atsumu can’t miss the way his eyes soften, sparkling with mischief.
“So I’m barely deemed worthy of the better Miya’s company, really. Poor me. I guess it’s fine anyway, I was planning to grab something at the konbini but I wouldn’t want you to stoop so low as to go along with a mere peasant.”
“Oh god, yer so insufferable,” Atsumu articulates with emphasis, grabbing the handle of Sakusa’s duffle bag to avoid touching him, then he simply drags him along.
Sakusa stiffens for a moment but follows nonetheless. Atsumu isn’t surprised but he can’t bring himself to look back when Sakusa catches up on the sidewalk and walks by his side.
They’ve been in the same team for six months, and their bond now has nothing to do with what it was when Sakusa arrived.
It wasn’t that surprising, the fact that they clicked. They might have entirely opposite personalities, they have a lot in common too. They don’t only share a passion for volleyball - although that’s clearly something they could talk about for literal hours and have done before without getting bored. They also share a sense of humor, they find themselves comfortable when they banter, when they tease one another, and they have that nasty habit of reading the other with an ease and an accuracy that none of them was ready for.
They never discussed it. Like many relationships it went on smoothly. They fell into it, but maybe they should have talked it through, Atsumu thinks at times. Lately, it's been on his mind a lot.
The thing is, Sakusa and him aren’t just easy-going and settling into a rhythm… they have the best chemistry and it’s also the most chaotic one. It explodes often, bringing out Sakusa’s eloquent and not so quiet side that no one else seems to be able to make shine like Atsumu. Just like it triggers Atsumu to be the flustered mess he’s rarely anymore apart from when he’s around Osamu or an old friend who knows how to push his buttons as if he was sixteen all over again.
And all their shenanigans, the littlest of their connections, each moment they pass together and fall a little more into that rhythm… it causes frictions, it sparks, sometimes it bursts.
Lately, Atsumu feels it more than ever and he could bury that, if the outbursts weren’t starting to be more than intellectually pleasing or providing that exciting rush of adrenaline. Problem is, now it's started to trigger all sorts of physical reactions Atsumu really would rather not analyze too deeply.
He can’t escape it though, the way his fingers prickle when he reaches out for his teammate, like when he grabbed his bag handle. Or the way his face heats up when Sakusa mercilessly scans him with those deep dark eyes. The way his heart races as if Atsumu’s been put through a particularly intense set when Atsumu has, in fact, merely brushed Sakusa in the locker room after they got out of the shower.
Damn, Atsumu is starting to believe they might not have just fallen into a rhythm. Maybe they fell—
“You have to go to the bar early?” Sakusa suddenly asks as they reach the store.
Atsumu freezes, eyes widening and heart clenching as he brutally gets dragged back to the sidewalk and reality. He has a hard time staying calm, considering where his thoughts were wandering and how it’s a total mess. Sakusa can’t know, because Atsumu is pretty certain he would not process things the same way and—
“You okay, Miya? What is it? Remembered you left something back at the gym? I think you’re safe, apart from your brain, you rarely leave anything behind.”
“I don’t have to go to the bar,” Atsumu blurts out before he realizes what he’s doing.
And then he throws himself in front of Sakusa — who’s not moving an inch — as if to block his path.
The flustered cretin who’s sent into a panic, the one Sakusa can bring out with a snap of the fingers, has sprung into motion.
“I mean, no one said anythin' about an hour. But I could obviously—”
The serene expression on Sakusa’s face melts into something a little closer to what he usually wears: a colder, assertive scowl that seems like it's disapproving of any and everything.
“Why on earth are you acting like they’re holding you at gunpoint. It’s really not that big of a deal,” Sakusa drawls, hunching a little on himself, the telltale sign he’s fed up.
His chin disappears, tucked inside the collar of his overcoat.
Atsumu wants to explain that it really has absolutely nothing to do with the meet-up or being held hostage but then he’d have to be honest about what was crossing his mind and threw him off and that…
That just makes him panic a little more. The cretin has now regressed to a state that makes Atsumu less likely to form a coherent sentence than a mollusc, to his own horror.
“I—Just… It’s—”
“Oh for heaven’s sake, you really did leave your stupid brain behind! I was just going to ask if you wanted to have dinner before going there!” Sakusa groans, stepping aside firmly to pass by Atsumu and head inside the store. “Moron,” he punctuates as the automatic doors slide open.
Have dinner?
Atsumu blinks a couple of times in confusion, mouth gaping as he processes the situation finally and a wave of sheer embarrassment crashes over him mercilessly.
He can’t even be mad at Sakusa for insulting him. Moron being actually quite the understatement in this situation.
“Omi-kun, wait!” he calls after him when Atsumu feels like it’s safe enough to go in without having his carnation match a Japanese national team jersey.
The gears in the brain he definitely didn’t leave in the lockers start working again and Atsumu rushes almost dangerously through the narrow aisles of the konbini to find Sakusa.
The now-gloomy young man is glaring at a display stand crumbling under a new brand of instant noodles Atsumu knows Sakusa would rather die than get fed. He comes to a gentle halt at Sakusa's side after his run, feeling like a stupid teenager who just made a fool of himself in front of his crush and—
“Uh, there ya go,” Atsumu mumbles for himself, sheepish as the realization dawns on him.
It has the side effect of catching his teammate’s attention, at least.
“Sorry, ‘think I’m a lil’ tired,” Atsumu offers, looking everywhere but at Sakusa’s face to search for a sign that he’s relaxing a little.
Sakusa's shoulders do sag eventually, and Atsumu hears a very soft and quiet exhale; the tiniest sigh that indicates Sakusa isn’t that mad.
“In fact, headin' to the bar might be hazardous. Still on for dinner?”
“I don’t know, Miya,” Sakusa grumbles, jerking the nearest cooler door open with a little too much momentum for it to be entirely as collected as he wants to appear. “I don’t have any cheap beer to spill nor the patience to see yourself swim in the puddle of goo your gray matter seems to have become.”
“Damn! Wow, thanks. I’m sorry, ok? I spaced out! I won’t be annoying, I promise! I can even cook?” Atsumu offers.
Seeing Sakusa acting all moody makes Atsumu want to give his all to get teased again. To see Sakusa's eyes go soft over his mask and guess the outline of half a smirk under it. Atsumu definitely didn’t just fall into a rhythm…
“C’mon Omi-omi. Your favorite dish, ya name it,” Atsumu presses on, his features morphing into a sad puppy impersonation that Osamu is way better at pulling off than he ever was.
His adorable best friend Suna - and obviously unbiased brother's boyfriend - once pointed out how they look like Puss in boots and his Donkey counterpart in that Shrek movie when the twins both do it at the same time. No need to explain who looks like an ass.
Still… the pout seems to work, somehow, because Sakusa’s gloomy gaze starts shining again and, yes, the expression on his face looks more like pity than endearment but at least Sakusa doesn’t look mad anymore.
Atsumu has the fatal confirmation it’s the case when Sakusa finally says: “Maybe never make that face ever again, and find an actual dish that would surprise me enough and you've got yourself a deal, Miya. And you go find a lot of cheap beer for you and fancy one for me because I definitely need to forget what I just witnessed.”
Atsumu can’t help but feel his heart explode and his mouth split into a wide grin despite having just been insulted for all his worth.
“Alright! Alright, good! Perfect, in fact! Ya text Bokkun to tell him I’m not goin' because I hafta spend the night applying cold water to that terrific burn and I go grab stuff!” Atsumu says cheerfully, clasping his hands.
“I don’t think so!” Sakusa protests immediately but Atsumu is already storming away.
“Yeah, yeah you’re doin’ it! Else I spend the evening looking at you with that lovely face and even the rest of yer perfect little life too,” he shouts over his shoulder.
Luckily he’s already turning around the aisle, or else Sakusa would see him turn crimson all over again at the unintentional innuendo.
Unluckily for Atsumu, he doesn’t see Sakusa blushing just as furiously.