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In the eyes of MSBY Black Jackals, they always acted the same. Petty arguments, the sly shouts of “Omi-omi~” or angered “Miya, that’s disgusting-”, occasional slap of Sakusa’s hand on the back of Atsumu’s head or Atsumu’s heavy arm plastered around Sakusa’s shoulders. For the team this behaviour of theirs was familiar, something as natural as breathing.
But behind closed doors, something else takes place, so out of this world their teammates wouldn’t believe it even if they saw it.
“Come on, Omi-kun, ya gotta move yer hips more!”
“Atsumu, that’s not how this works-”
The evening was surprisingly warm, the stars shining down onto Osaka from the clear dark sky, not a cloud in sight. A playlist of Edith Piaf’s best singles was playing softly from one of the balconies, the breeze carrying the gentle notes through the air.
Behind the railing, two men moved, their hands intertwined, letting the rhythm of the current song lead them forward.
“And now a step here and a twirl-!”
A laugh, interrupted by a snort not many people have heard, left Kiyoomi’s lips. “Atsumu, please-”
Both of them didn’t understand a word in French, but the catchy melody was enough of a reason for them to continue this tango of theirs. They didn’t know how to dance - there never was a reason to learn - but it didn’t stop them from stomping on their sock-clad feet, doing such weird combinations any professional dancer would cry in despair if he saw them.
Atsumu tried singing along with Edith, but it came out as a gurgle of noises, causing Kiyoomi to laugh even more, allowing himself to get pulled into Atsumu’s embrace.
The setter slid one of his hands to rest on his boyfriend's hips, nudging him not so gently as he dragged him along with his steps, “Omi-omi, why so stiff? One and two and three and four-!”
Kiyoomi couldn’t stop smiling, the expression once a rare sight, but now a normal occurrence between the two of them. “You’re calling me stiff? I swear a newborn fawn has more grace than you.”
Atsumu let out a squawk of offence, moving his face closer to Kiyoomi’s, bumping their noses against each other, as accordion started playing in their current song. “I’m the most graceful man ya ever had the chance of meetin’, Omi-kun.”
Taking Atsumu by surprise, Kiyoomi swapped their positions, letting Atsumu drop close to the floor, the setter being held in the air by his boyfriend’s strong arms.
“Perhaps, perhaps not.” Kiyoomi answered, quickly lifting his partner up to the rhythm of the song. Atsumu let out a delighted squeak, making both of them laugh at the silly noise.
Even when the song ended and a different one followed, they didn’t stop dancing, enjoying the warm evening, the spotless sky and the gentle breeze carrying their song through the air along with the French lyrics neither understood. Tomorrow, their routine will repeat - the remarks, bickering and the touches their teammates are familiar with, and once the day comes to an end, they shall make their way to the same balcony and share the joy of their love, to which only the stars and the moon would bear witness.