Chapter Text
“Just get a tutor.”
Atsumu glared across the library’s long wooden table at his twin. “You get a tutor,” he said, feeling spiteful.
“Why would I get a tutor,” Osamu asked, rolling his eyes at his brother and roommate’s dramatics. “I’m passing everything with flying colors.”
“Stop bragging,” Atsumu spat, stretching over the table and putting his head down on his thick Calculus book miserably. “It’s not attractive on you.”
“I don’t see what’s so bad about getting a tutor,” Osamu questioned, settling a little bit more into his chair and looking back down at his literature notes. “Why are you so against it?”
Atsumu shifted his head to an angle where he could look directly at his twin while answering. “Getting a tutor would be like admitting I’m stupid.”
His brother gave him a patronizing look over his notes. “Don’t worry about it, you are already stupid, so nobody is going to look at you any differently.”
Atsumu let out an indignant shriek echoing in the quiet and empty library, “Fucking rude!”
“Getting a tutor helps you prove you’re not stupid by passing your classes, Tsumu.”
Atsumu just whined obnoxiously as an answer, burying his blond head in his hands. “Why can’t you just tutor me Samu?” He grumbled, slightly muffled by his palms. “You’re good at math and stuff.”
“Because I actually have better things to do besides teaching you the basics of mathematics,” Osamu rebutted, huffing slightly while resuming his reading.
“You aren’t high and mighty or something, just because you are part of the Cookies –”
“– Dessert Bakery Club –”
“– Whatever-Valentine’s gay shit you got into for Suna,” Atsumu complained, looking morosely at his homework and feeling hopelessly confused about its contents.
“I didn’t say I was high and mighty,” Osamu continued with a voice tone slightly clipped to try and prove his point. “Just that I don’t have as much time to waste as you freaking do.”
“I’m part of the volleyball team’s roster!” Atsumu carried on petulantly.
“And I joined SGA,” His twin brother retorted. “Shut your trap and stop whining. Go get a tutor.”
Atsumu just glared at him twice as hard.
However, after his last week’s homework had been handed back to him with a pitying look by his professor and such a poor grade that made his stomach plummet despite he had spent literally hours struggling through the numbers on paper, he finally clenched his teeth on Thursday evening and, at seven o’clock sharp, walked through the doors of the Student Center towards the unfamiliar tutoring table.
Blatantly ignoring the looks of others poor failing losers as he passed, Atsumu searched frantically for the table with the ‘Calculus’ sign, finally spotting it after a few minutes and dropping his bag into a plastic chair, himself falling into the one right next to it.
“Please, let’s just do this as quickly as possible,” Atsumu begged, barely even looking up. He was met with complete silence.
Atsumu, then, finally took a look-up, facing the serious demeanor of a tall and lanky blond guy wearing thin black glasses who he had never seen before.
That wasn’t exactly a surprise per se, considering that Atsumu was a sophomore student on campus who spend most of his time inside the line of attack of a volleyball court, but still – meeting face to face with an obvious grumpy boy clearly superior on the subject at hand was a tiny bit intimidating.
“Nice to meet you too,” the guy greeted him with an overly friendly smile that didn’t reach his sharp eyes and a soft voice laced with venom, his long and lanky arms resting casually on top of the lacquered surface of the square table. “Having problems with math, I’m taking a wild guess.”
“Calculus needs to die a fiery death,” Atsumu spat at him, frowning. There was something about this guy, something fishy that poked at his mind in a way he couldn’t quite understand. He sure looked friendly, a little bit cocky, sure, but still reachable, yet his actions and cold tone told a whole different story.
“We would be very much in trouble without calculus,” the blond boy continued, smiling in what Atsumu obviously recognized as mockery. “Why should it die?”
Atsumu scowled so hard it would definitely leave a permanent mark on his face. He already disliked the tutor so much, and they didn’t even start the freaking lesson.
“Because it’s annoying, and I’m failing.” At that one slip, he bit hard his bottom lip. He hadn’t actually admitted that yet out loud. Even to himself.
After that, the boy sat straight in his chair, his natural blond fringe framing his face as his expression turned more neutral, though a small turn up showed at the corner of his lips.
“I’m Tsukishima Kei.” The tutor introduced himself, he stared at Atsumu for a good few seconds before declaring with an air of superiority, voice turning serious. “And I guarantee that you’ll pass calculus.”
He had such an air of confidence in him, like if he sais it was deemed to happen, already set in stone because Tsukishima thought it was possible. An altogether strong conviction and solid promise in his aptitudes, that Atsumu felt his previous frustration and humiliation at this whole stupid matter slipping away, leaving the sometimes shy and self-conscious guy only close friends and brother knew him as.
Atsume looked at Tsukishima, as if for the first time, and saw a bright future. Not humiliation and a failing grade in miles, but a passing card in the form of a generous young man, with blond hair and black glasses and a knowing-too-much smirking face.
The boy held out his hand and Atsumu shook it.
“Thanks,” Atsumu said, his voice much softer. His bravado dying. “I appreciate it.”
Tsukishima’s smirk became a genuine smile that left his face nearly as fast as it came. “That’s a bit better. Now, where are you having issues?”
Everywhere, as it turned out.
By the end of the first night of tutoring, Tsukishima and Atsumu had spent the vast majority of their time going over what Atsumu did and didn’t know.
What he didn’t know was significantly larger than what he did know. Which was extremely helpful for Tsukishima and horrifically embarrassing for Atsumu.
“I’m so going to fail,” Atsumu contemplated, giving a slightly desperate laugh after the boys’ survey. “So much for a scholarship.”
“You’re not going to fail,” Tsukishima replied sternly. “I’m glad you came to these classes. Now we can work on what you need help with.”
Atsumu just stared into Tsukishima’s face, searching for any sign of malicious intent. He found out none.
“Thank you,” Atsumu said, trying to put as much of his gratitude into his voice as possible.
Tsukishima looked at him for a moment, his face twisting as if thinking, then he shifted slightly, turning to rummage into his shoulder bag.
“By the way, tutoring is only once per week,” he said as an afterthought, pulling out of his bag a blue pen and notebook.
“Uh, yeah,” Atsumu confirmed in confusion, his brown eyebrows furrowing at the minute and not entirely knowing where the blond was going with all of this.
“I’m really sorry, but,” Tsukishima gave out a little huff at what Atsumu could assume was a laugh. “You may need help more than once a week.”
Atsumu felt his stomach sink. “That bad, huh?”
Tsukishima finished scribbling a little something on the notebook and tore the page out.
“When are you free?” He asked while handing the paper to Atsumu. “I’ll give you some extra tutoring help. You frankly need all the help out there.” Feeling slightly dazed, Atsumu took the offered note from him, keeping silent.
“So, when do you have calc?”
“Monday, Wednesday, and Friday,” Atsumu answered automatically, not really looking at the paper as he folded it and placed it in his bag.
“What do you do on Sunday?” Tsukishima asked again, pulling out what looked like his schedule. “Got any free time?”
“I have volleyball practice from morning till afternoon,” Atsumu said, frowning as he pulled out his phone, scanning the calendar that showed his schedule.
“You play volleyball?” Tsukishima inquired, looking up with curious eyes.
“Yeah,” Atsumu said, feeling a small surge of confidence at a familiar topic. “That’s how I’m here, actually. Sport scholarship. Hence, why do I need to pass this class so badly.”
Tsukishima nodded in understanding, his mouth still holding that usual smirk. “Are you free this Saturday then?”
Atsumu blinked twice before thinking. He doesn’t have the most social life nor time to waste in nothing more than practicing , so he usually spent Saturdays testing Osamu’s new recipes or in the library doing his homework or essays. Nothing out of the world.
“Yes, sure. I’m totally free,” Atsumu agreed in a heartbeat, creating a new event in his calendar and slipping his phone back into his pocket.
“Great then, I happened to help a friend with calculus on Saturdays too. Meet us in the library. If you get the coffee, I’ll give you private tutoring.” Tsukishima continued his rambling while tucking his schedule back into his bag.
“We meet early in the morning, around eight. Grab one black coffee with no sugar at the university café for me, and we’ll work through some of your math phobias.”
“Math phobias?” Atsumu repeated slowly and Tsukishima just smirked as an answer. Atsumu was so lost thinking about how his knowing-it-all smirk was already too familiar for him after a few hours together that when his brain had finally caught up to the words Atsumu’s jaw nearly fell out open to the floor. “Wait, wait — eight? in the morning?? On a Saturday???”
Tsukishima just shrugged it off as if solving math problems at ass o’clock on a weekend was nothing.
“He also has volleyball practice later. And I’m usually properly awake by then, so yeah, we meet early.”
“Oh,” Atsumu only exclaimed, but his curiosity was reaching so astronomical high. Like, his now new classmate played volleyball too. It’s probably that Atsumu already knew him too, right, what are the chances. “I’ll see you on Saturday then. Eight o'clock sharp.”
Tsukishima waved and walked off in the direction of the biology buildings. Atsumu stared after him for just a moment, wondering what to think of tutoring, Tsukishima Kei and the unknown friend of his who happens to also play volleyball and fail calculus too. Is that somehow related to his beloved sport?
“How was tutoring?” Osamu asked him from his desk as Atsumu opened the door to their room.
“I suck at math so bad,” Atsumu cried right after closing the door and toeing off his shoes. Osamu had trained him like a dog to take off his shoes first thing after coming in since they were kids. It had taken more years and effort to train him to hang his towel up properly. Now, after twenty years of living with the other boy, pretty much all the little things that Osamu said at the time were internalized and Atsumu did it automatically. He sometimes wondered if he was actually living with his brother or his mother.
“You don’t suck at math,” His brother said reassuringly, not looking up from his work.
“Tsukishima Kei says I suck at math,” Atsumu mumbled, dropping his bag onto his bed and flopping down onto it, staring blankly at the ceiling.
There was movement on the other side of the room and then silence. Osamu had looked up from his boring texts and was staring at him with big eyes.
“You have Tsukishima Kei as your tutor?”
Atsumu looked over at his twin, as he strangely found out his twin knew who Tsukishima was. “Yeah, why?”
“You won’t fail math,” Osamu assured him, and there was so much certainly in his voice that Atsumu felt startled.
“What is this kid, a god?” Atsumu questioned, hauling himself up to dig into his bag and pull out his books.
“Basically,” Osamu answered in a heartbeat. “He’s top in the freshman class, double majoring in Mathematics and Biology, and already looking to campaign for SGA president in two years. He is literally the talk of the town.”
“Samu,” Atsumu called him, standing up and reaching for his twin. “I do believe you’re in love. Should Suna be worried?”
Osamu just flipped him off as an answer. “He’s basically a genius at everything he does, and he’s a year younger than us at that.”
Atsumu hummed and walked to his dresser, pulling open a drawer and taking out a pair of sweatpants and a light tank. “He offered to give me extra tutoring this Saturday together with a friend of his,” he shared quietly as he pulled out an extra pair of socks.
Osamu was completely silent again.
Atsumu turned to look at him, and accused him. “What?”
His twin brother just gave him a look before giving his head a small shake. “Nothing,” he said in an entirely unconvincing way. “Where are you going?”
“To run,” Atsumu said. “I need to clear my mind.”
Osamu frowned at him.
“Am I going to have to come drag you home at 2 in the morning again?” He asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.
“No, mom~,” Atsumu replied, rolling his eyes as he took a bottle of water and his MP3 player, smiling teasingly at him as he pushed open the door and left.
“Someone has to look out for you, jerk!” Osamu hollered after him.
He ignored him and, ten minutes later, was lost in his playlist and started sprinting.
At half past eleven, Atsumu dropped himself into his bed, his limbs and core feeling weary but in a satisfactory way. Breathing through his nose, he made to gather things for a quick shower before noticing a paper sticking out of his school bag, the one Tsukishima had given him earlier that day.
On it was Tsukishima’s full name and phone number. Beneath that was scribbled in slightly slanting writing:
‘I don’t make promises I can’t keep’.
But it seems Atsumu does make promises he can’t keep because he met Tsukishima at the library at half past ten in the morning with two cups of coffee as an apology for not making it on time.
Of course when Atsumu arrived, Tsukishima’s friend had already left for practice and Atsumu tried, and failed not to show his disappointment in his face. He thought his disappointment was because he would definitely like to be more social with players who shared his same passion for the sport and nothing else.
The two of them sat until a quarter to one in the afternoon, pouring over examples Tsukishima scratched out, patiently waiting for Atsumu to fight his way through them and helping when he got significantly stuck, explaining to him why and how the problems worked.
Slowly, Atsumu began to understand. He left tutoring with a smile on his face and a shouted wave of thanks to Tsukishima, running to his dorm room to recall his day to his twin.
On next Thursday, after sitting through calculus for the beginning of the week and feeling slightly less lost, Atsumu went once again into tutoring.
And unlike the previous week, he walked up to the Calculus table in the Student Center with a smile on his face, feeling gratitude spread inside his chest.
“You’re back,” Tsukishima greeted him as soon as he saw him, a few sheets of paper spread in front of him on the table.
“Yeah, well,” Atsumu said, putting down his bag and pulling out his books along with the notes he had made on Saturday. “What can I say, you’re a good tutor dude!”
Tsukishima genuinely laughed at that, satisfied with his answer. “And you’re a good student, not like a few others that I know.”
And like clockwork, a voice behind Atsumu replied, “Shut up, Tsukishima. I took notes this time.”
“Yeah, only this time. You sure need more than that, Princess." Tsukishima snickered.
Atsumu turned in the direction of the rich deep yet soft voice bickering with his tutor and took a furtive glance.
The guy was taller than any other person walking in and out of the Students Center, reaching Atsumu and Tsukishima’s height respectively. The boy had pretty long eyelashes and bluish dark eyes as well as his hair, had a broad stature, milky skin, a sharp nose, and overall attractiveness.
As if under a spell, Atsumu couldn’t look away, he remained quiet and transfixed on the boy’s face.
“Bring out your books and take a seat next to Miya-san.” Tsukishima said, redirecting Atsumu’s attention back to him.
And without seeming aware of the sudden lack of distance between two complete strangers that’d be comfortably appropriate, the dark-haired boy scooted even closer to his side to take a look at his homework and asked curious.
“What are we doing tonight?”
Atsumu could feel heat rising on his cheeks and the sudden thrill and goosebumps in his arms as Tsukishima’s friend scooted really really close to him, but pushed away the sensation. Instead, he swallowed and tried to play dumb, catching his breath and focusing over his math texts scattered on the table, pointing to whatever exercises they were studying in his class this week.
“These ones. But I have no idea what the hell does all of this mean.”
Tsukishima gave a tired sigh before looking up, a forced smile ghosting over his lips as he stared at Atsumu.
“You’re going to have to be more specific than that, Miya-san,” he said “What part doesn’t make sense to you?”
“Oh, I know what he means... These are numbers,” Tsukishima’s friend said, pointing to the text. “And these are letters. But I don’t entirely understand what the question is asking us.”
“Exactly!” Atsumu agreed with his reasoning, and kept staring at those sapphire blue eyes encased by long dark eyelashes of his. They were really nice, he noticed absentmindedly.
“Of course you two idiots will understand each other’s stupidity.”
“Hey!!” the two boys shouted out indignantly in unison.
Tsukishima grabbed his friend’s black pencil and pointed it out. “Okay, we have a starting point. Let’s look at that first.”
Atsumu blinked at him owlishly. “What? Where are we starting?”
“At the beginning. What is the question? Once you know the question, you can solve it.” Tsukishima explained patiently once again to him.
Right. Of course. It made a lot of sense, Atsumu had to admit.
“Makes sense,” Tsukishima’s friend voiced out, agreeing with Atsumu without knowing it.
A little over an hour and a half later full of bent heads and heavy confusion followed by abrupt understanding and quite a bit of encouraging and accomplished smiles, Atsumu and his tutor’s friend had finished most of their homework without dying in the attempt. And at the end of the lesson, integral signs were surprisingly much less intimidating.
Atsumu felt much more confident in his skills and aptitudes at the end of the night, but he was strangely unsatisfied with the little to none conversation he had with the dark-haired boy, and after two hours in company, he still didn’t get his name.
As he finished grabbing his things and left the student center, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet, he found Tsukishima smirking at him.
“You were really motivated today,” he started, watching as Atsumu spun around to look at him walking backwards.
“Kinda, only a bit more than usual,” he said, smiling easily at the tall blond. Atsumu had already warmed up to him, and acted around him like he would with an old friend. “Thank you.”
Tsukishima shrugged, running a hand through his short hair. “Sure, I guess. But we both know I don’t have anything to do with the motivation for today’s lesson,” he said.
"What do you mean?” Atsumu asked curiously.
“Please, don’t play dumb with me. I never knew before meeting you, that one could be this easily whipped for someone who met for merely a couple of hours.” Tsukishima said humorously, looking at Atsumu with a kindness he wasn’t entirely familiar with.
“It’s a mystery how you could finish any work while looking at Kageyama’s face all the time.”
“Uh.” Kageyama. That was the boy’s name. It was a pretty decent name to go with that pretty face, and something said to him that Tsukishima also knew that was what Atsumu was thinking of if his reply is anything to go by.
“Kageyama Tobio. He also has a sports scholarship to keep. That’s why he’s taking my tutoring lessons.”
“Ah,” he answered again, monosyllabic. Atsumu turned back around to walk side by side with the slightly taller boy and coughed casually, feeling unexpectedly nervous after being blatantly discovered.
“So, would you be willing to tutoring me again on Saturday? Same time and place?”
Tsukishima looked him over, golden brown eyes slightly narrowed, then he sighed heavily before speaking. “What a pain, please bear me the sight of you trying and failing to flirt with him,” he grumbled, though the teasing edge was clearly there only for amusement.
Atsumu felt himself smiling as he nodded.
“Of course,” he assured him, patting Tsukishima lightly on the back. “I’ll even bring out your black coffee again, no sugar and still steaming.”
“Add a strawberry cake to that order, and you have yourself a deal.”
“Done. I’m always willing to bribe people with food.”
“Really? Then I’ll take your kind words,” Tsukishima said while taking a turn to the right, going to his building without saying goodbye.
Atsumu waved at him even when the boy didn’t see him and started to go to his room but turned around when he heard Tsukishima speaking again, “Tall latte with an extra subbing of heavy cream and caramel syrup on top. That’s what Tobio is going to take.”
And with that being said he resumed his walk. And Atsumu felt himself smiling at the sound of the dark haired boy’s name.
It wasn’t until later that night, as Atsumu stared blankly at his ceiling, hair still damp from a shower after a short run that he realized he was thinking about the pretty boy for the ninth time, and didn’t hate the feeling that came with his thinking at all.