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Atsumu loves his brother, he really does. Osamu knows just how to piss him off, knows how to avoid his punches when he gets violent, and knows which buttons to push to make him laugh or cry. Though he is loath to admit it, he loves Osamu and would help him bury a dead body, no questions asked, any time of the day.
This also means that Osamu at times -a lot of times, actually- knows how to drive him completely batshit crazy.
Atsumu still doesn’t know how Osamu found out about Kiyoomi getting together with Ushijima and breaking off the benefits part of their friends-with-benefit relationship. Privately, Atsumu suspects that Hinata overheard their breakup in the team designated rest room and went to tell Bokuto who in turn told his best friend, Akaashi Keiji who then told his fiancé Osamu, -and seriously, how did that whole relationship even happen?!- so that Osamu can make his life a living hell.
It’s not like he’s heartbroken or anything like that. He and Kiyoomi has a no strings attached relationship, the sex was good and convenient for the both of them and they knew it wasn’t going last forever what with Kiyoomi harboring a not-so-secret raging hard-on for Ushijima and Atsumu being more in love with volleyball than what was probably healthy in a twenty six year old man.
And anyway, he was kind of enjoying the solitude. He’s spent the first 18 years of his life sharing everything with Osamu and the remaining few with other people in common housing areas provided by the Black Jackals. It was only in the last 2 years that he was able to move out of the common housing to get his own apartment and even then, he shared it with Kiyoomi until the germaphobe moved with Ushijima. All in all, it’s nice having his own space for a while.
He tries to explain that to Osamu, several times. Even using onigiris for props.
“Sure,” Osamu agrees, then, “There’s this dude that Rin knows that Hinata-san introduced him to a while back. He was the Captain of Dateko back in the day, really pretty boy with the fluffy hair. Rin says he’s kind of an asshole, but you seem to like them like that.”
Okay so maybe Kiyoomi didn’t make a good impression on Osamu and Suna when he introduced him to his brother and best friend. To be fair, Kiyoomi isn’t even nice to Atsumu and they were sleeping literally and figuratively together! What chance did Osamu and Suna have of Kiyoomi being nice to them?!
And okay, fine, he might also be realizing how empty and quiet the apartment is when he is on another insomnia jag and he’s sitting alone watching Waratte Ittomo reruns at 1am.
Atsumu goes on the date with Futakuchi. It goes well until it doesn’t because Futakuchi’s ex shows up on the date, white hair and missing eyebrows and all, stares at Futakuchi with no words exchanged before promptly ending the date with Atsumu. Leaving him inside the cafe with an empty coffee cup and the bill to pay. Asshole.
And while it’s not so bad when it was just Osamu, things get a whole lot more uncomfortable when the entire Inarizaki team gets involved and Atsumu starts getting calls and text messages from Aran and Gin at all hours of the day asking him what his preferences are and when he’s free, and if he likes hip cafes or laid back izakayas for date nights. He manages to fend them off, but his excuses are getting weaker and weaker and he can feel them circling closer like a lion pride sensing an injured baby zebra, ready for the picking.
It’s when Suna mentions, very casually, how the athletic trainer for the Japan National Team is currently single because his boyfriend/fuck buddy left for Argentina again that Atsumu snaps.
“Look,” he says, planting both hands on the restaurant table inside Onigiri Miya, and almost spilling his cup of hot tea all over. “I appreciate you guys trying to hook me up with every single breathing person within the Osaka Prefecture but I’m seeing someone now. So you can stop. And tell Gin to stop sending me pictures of women he sees on the train. He’s going to be arrested for being a chikan.”
It’s a total lie. Not Gin sending him pictures of random women and asking him if they were his type. But the dating someone part. He feels a little guilty but if this goes on, he'd lose so much training time hiding from his friends instead of practicing to get on the Olympics team.
“Oh shit, sorry Atsumu. Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Suna says at the same time that Osamu scoffs and says, “that sounds like a big fat lie.”
Atsumu opens his mouth to defend himself, formulates something about privacy and preferring to keep his personal life personal and how the relationship is so new that he wants to make sure it’s going to work out before he introduces them to his family and friends. Even though it sounds lame.
“Oh yeah, what’s his name then?” Osamu smirks.
“Shinsuke.”
“Shinsuke.” Suna says with a flat voice, “Like that WWE wrestler we were watching last night on tv.”
Osamu barks out a laugh, “This bastard isn’t even trying anymore. If yer gonna lie, might as well make it good.”
“Shut up! His name is Shinsuke and that’s all I’m going to say about him!”
—-
Except that’s not all he says, because Osamu knows him even better than he knows himself and Suna is a wily fox who has the amazing ability of getting the information he wants from anyone with the last name Miya.
“He’s got a really nice body and he’s shorter than me,” Atsumu harrumphs.
“This is Japan, a lot of people are shorter than you.” Suna notes dryly.
“Yeah, well he’s like, short but not that short,” Atsumu retorts. “Oh, but he’s shorter than all 3 of us, actually. He has a classically good-looking face, and his eyes are amazing.”
Osamu fake shivers and whispers to Suna in a loud voice, “he’s so creepy when he compliments people.”
Suna nods his head in agreement as Atsumu tell them both how much he hates them.
—-
The problem is that, for some unexplainable reason, everyone in Japan’s professional volleyball world seems to know each other. If he pretends his imaginary boyfriend is a volleyball player, Osamu and Suna are going to figure out he’s a lying liar whose hobby includes lying and vengeance will come upon him in a tidal wave of omiais and mockery from Osamu. It makes sense to make Shinsuke the most average person in the world, with an even more limited social media presence. Someone that Suna or Osamu or even Akaashi’s cyber hacker friend that has pudding hair can’t cyberstalk.
“He doesn’t like the city?” Osamu looks as if misheard.
“He’s not a city boy,” Atsumu says. “He likes being in nature and the quiet countryside.”
Osamu stares at him like he’s wondering if a volleyball recently hit him on the face and gave him permanent brain damage. “He doesn’t sound like your type.”
“He’s got his good points,” Atsumu shrugs.
The question tapers off after a month, much to Atsumu’s relief. Osamu becomes busy with managing his two restaurants since its peak tourist season while Atsumu and Suna go back to their respective teams for more intense conditioning before the start of their season. Atsumu doesn’t think that either one of them suspect anything about his fake boyfriend, and they don’t mention him again except to ask how he’s doing when they talk over the phone.
“Why don’t you invite him when you come over this weekend for dinner?” Osamu suggests over the phone after practice one night.
“He has to work,” Atsumu says.
“At 7pm?” Atsumu can hear his brother furrow his brow over the phone. “What does he do?”
“I told you, I’m not giving you his full name or his profession.” Atsumu says as he grabs his duffel bag and walks out of the training facility to catch a bus back to his apartment. He passes by Kiyoomi on his way out and gives him a small wave. Kiyoomi nods at him before returning to his own phone. “He doesn’t need you cyber stalking him.”
“I don’t even know how to do that,” Osamu counters with a huff.
Atsumu rolls his eyes even though he knows Osamu can’t see it. He hopes Osamu can feel it through their twin telepathy though. “You can’t do it, but I know Kei-kun has that hacker friend who does stuff like that.”
“Kenma is a youtuber, not a hacker,” Osamu corrects. “And anyways, everyone eats dinner so you can invite him over and we can finally meet this Shinsuke of yours.”
Atsumu glares at the phone and imagines that if his twin was within kicking distance, he would have drop kicked him already. “Shinsuke’s job has long hours and he has to wake up super early in the morning. The drive to get to your place and then back to his would take hours and he’d be tired by then.”
Atsumu doesn’t even know where the name Shinsuke came from. And no, it wasn’t because of the WWE wrestler, thank you very much Suna! But since that was the first name that came to his mind, it’s too late to change it now. He’s just glad that Osamu seems to have dropped the topic for a while.
—-
Oh how wrong he was.
“I was thinking of setting up an Inarizaki team get together next month, was gonn’ close up the shop early so we can all hang out.” Osamu brings up on Sunday during 8am breakfast as he places bowls of miso soup in front of Atsumu and Akaashi. The three of them had spent the entire evening playing FIFA and Mario Party. “Omimi-san and Akagi-san said they can make the time and Aran said he’s going to do his best to attend.”
Atsumu grunts, barely awake and aware of the trap being set in front of him and sips his soup before digging into his grilled fish and rice.
“I was thinking, you should bring Shinsuke,” Osamu continues.
Atsumu stares at him for a beat, trying to make sense of the words coming out of his twin’s mouth. After a solid minute, a lightbulb moment occurs, and he slams his bowl on the table. “Ugh! What is with you and your obsession with my boyfriend? Your fiancé is sitting right there! Focus on him! Focus on deciding wedding stuff like if you should have origami napkins or something!” He yells -whines, really- and points at Akaashi who was quietly sipping from his miso bowl, staying out of the fight as he is won’t to do.
“Well, I wouldn’t be obsessed with your boyfriend if you would introduce him to us!” Osamu yells back. “We don’t even know his full name or what he looks like! It’s starting to seem like he doesn’t even exist!”
“He does exist!” Atsumu knows that’s probably the wrong thing to focus on in this argument. “I don’t even know why you think he’s not real and why I would lie!”
“Because you lie all the time about the stupidest thing, Tsumu.” Osamu fires back. “Remember that time you told me to my face you didn’t eat my pudding when you had the spoon and cup in your hand?”
“Ugh, that was one time! And I was like, fifteen! You know what, fine! I’ll bring Shinsuke to the party just to get you off my back!” Atsumu capitulates with a big bite of rice. “But I demand compensation for troubling Shinsuke! Five - no, TEN vouchers of the Onigiri Miya Family Pack!”
“That’s 200 onigiris you fat bastard!” Osamu slaps the table and glares at his brother.
“Take it or leave it.”
“Ugh, fine. But if your dearest, darlingest Shinsuke doesn’t show up to the party, you have to admit on live tv that I’m the more handsome twin and that everything you know about volleyball, you learned from me. AND you have to advertise the restaurant once a day in all your social media accounts.”
Suna looks at Atsumu with a sly grin before looking at Osamu. Atsumu stares back at his twin, brown eyes lighting up in challenge. “Like hell. You got yourself a deal.”
—-
Atsumu has a plan.
There are internet hook-up sites and gay bars, and yeah, convincing someone he just met to pretend to be his boyfriend of four months is going to be a hard sell, but he’s Miya Atsumu and there’s nothing he can’t do if he set his mind to it. Worse comes to worse, he can hire a starving actor or a starving actor college student from the nearby university.
Then his Coach decided that a lot of the members of the team had let themselves go during their season break and then Atsumu is doing good mornings and suicides for two hour a day in addition to his HIIT and yoga and drills and regular practice. He survives on weider jelly and pocari sweat and Mr. Coffee when meals aren’t catered and by the time practice is over, all he wants to do is shower and go home and sleep to do the same thing again the next day.
The days start to blend together and his phone calls with his brother becomes shorter and shorter as his training gets longer and longer. He doesn’t remember about the reunion party until he gets home on a Friday night and opens up a text from Aran asking him if he wanted to drive back home together tomorrow.
Atsumu drops his phone. “Oh, fuck.”
He dives for his laptop, and the next hour is spent frantically googling and calling, and he is half worried that the Naicho is going to barge through his door because of his questionable search history. He was so close to clicking on the ‘hot thirsty boys in your area wants to meet with you’ banner before he stops himself.
He grabs his phone and has half a mind to dial Kuroo to ask if he knows of any hookers but stops because that’s even crazier than clicking on the hot thirsty boys banner. Plus, Osamu will definitely know if he did that.
Atsumu stares at Aran’s text message for a long moment, then replies. I’ll drive separate, thank you.
—-
Atsumu starts his one hour drive back to the Onigiri Miya restaurant at 5pm. The party starts at 5pm and he figures that maybe if he comes to the party late everybody would be so drunk out of their mind that they will forget about him and his fake boyfriend. Maybe. He hopes.
About halfway through the drive, Atsumu pulls over in a small shopping area so he can have a minor freak out. He gets out of and leans against the side of his BMW, staring blankly at the slowly darkening sky. The onyx black car paint is currently reflecting his future if he doesn’t get his shit together.
He could lie, say that Shinsuke was called away by an emergency, but he has a feeling Suna will see right through him and then rip him to pieces.
It might be best if he just comes clean. It’ll suck telling Osamu that he was lying, and it will suck even more to have to compliment his brother on national tv. Maybe if he tells them that the blind dates just depressed him, they will understand. Yeah, right.
Scrubbing his face with both hands, Atsumu looks at the crowded parking area and all the people milling around him and doesn’t fight the urge to yell out, “Shinsuke!”
“Yes?”
Atsumu jumps and almost sprains something whipping his head around, because holy fucking shit.
Several spaces ahead, a silver head of hair with black tips is watching him quizzically, one hand on the door of a beat up and rusting truck.
He is short, but not that short.
No, Atsumu corrects himself as he moves closer and gets a better look. Shorter than him, yes, but not tiny. This man has some very nice, broad shoulders and his arms and chest are straining against the fabric of his t-shirt.
Atsumu stops about half a meter away and they stare at each other, the man slightly craning his neck up to keep eye contact. His amber eyes are so light they looked almost golden in the light and Atsumu can’t help but think, kind of like a fox.
“Can I help you?” The man asks, voice calm and curious.
Atsumu wants to poke him in his well-defined chest, to make sure he is real and not a vivid hallucination of his brain addled mind. “Your name is really Shinsuke?”
The man frowns, releasing his hold on his car door. “Don’t think we’ve met before to be on a first name basis but yes, my first name is Shinsuke. People I’ve just met call me Kita though. Why are you smiling at me like that?”
“No reason, Kita-san. Come on.” Atsumu grabs him by the arm and drags him to his car.
“What? No, hey, what are you-” Kita digs in his heels and Atsumu smoothly shifts to push him from behind. “Hey! Will you stop pushing me!”
“Can’t, we’re already late!” Atsumu ducks an elbow to the face and a kick to his shin and grabs Kita’s other arm, trapping both high behind his back.
“Can’t say I’m much bothered by being late to my own kidnapping. Where are you taking me?” Kita yells, trying to kick him in the shin again, and they’re starting to attract a crowd.
“Dinner at Samu’s restaurant. He thinks I’m a failure in life, so if you can just -Ow!”
Kita almost breaks free while Atsumu was still reeling -and seriously, what the hell did Kita do, Atsumu didn’t even see him move - but Atsumu is a well-conditioned athlete in his prime with the height and weight advantage in this case. He throws himself at the man and they fall to the ground in a tangle of limbs and loud cursing.
It takes him a lot longer than he anticipated to pin Kita down, because the man is sneaky and mean, and Atsumu is going to have a bruise a couple of centimeters below Atsumu-kun. It only ends when Atsumu makes the tactical decision to sprawl on top of Kita reminiscent of the wrestling moves he’s seen on tv and crush him with his superior weight until he stops fighting.
“There is something very wrong with you.” Kita tells him.
“Listen,” Atsumu says desperately, “I need you to come with me to the reunion party because I already told ‘Samu you’re going to be there and if you don’t show up, then the entire team will know I was lying and they’re going to laugh at their captain for being a loser who couldn’t keep a fuckbuddy. And then they’re gonna say Omi-Omi dumped me because I’m bad at sex and I would rather commit seppuku than go on live tv spoutin’ ‘bout how much more handsome and talented ‘Samu is than me. Do you understand?”
Kita stares at him, mouth half open in astonishment.
Atsumu nearly whines as his phone dings with Osamu’s ringtone indicating a text message. He doesn’t have to look at it to know it’s along the lines of are you ready for your nice speech about me on national television? “Can we just go? Please? I’ll explain more on the way.”
“No,” Kita says slowly, “no, I get it. You made up a boyfriend to get out of some kind of obligation because you’re not mature enough to have an honest talk with your family member about your situation and so you lied to them instead. But now, everything is coming back to bite you, and you need me to play Shinsuke, your beloved boyfriend so you don’t have to talk on national television about being a liar.”
“That’s… that’s about the gist of it, yeah.” Atsumu gazes at Kita in surprise and amazement. Is he psychic?
“I’m not psychic,” Kita rolls his eyes gracefully when Atsumu starts at having his mind read. “Granny and I watch a lot of Korean dramas in the evening. Good thing you didn’t throw in amnesia in your story too.” He stiffens and squints up at Atsumu. “We watch a lot of drug and true crimes tv as well. Are you high? Your pupils are kind of dilated.”
“It’s the adrenaline,” Atsumu automatically replies.
“So, you’re naturally like this all the time. That is good to know.” Kita says as he taps him on the arm. “You want to get off of me?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry.” Atsumu releases him and scrambles to his feet but stays close enough to tackle him again if he tries to run.
Kita gets up and runs a hand over his hair, smoothing out his clothes, and brushing dust off his pants. He takes out his phone, glances at Atsumu, then the sky, and closes his eyes for beat, before turning to Atsumu again. “Where is this reunion party?”
Atsumu almost tackles him into a hug. “Just about 30 minutes from here, in Sakai. I can drive, just get in the car.” Unlocking his car, he shepherds Kita into the passenger side and opens the door for him, nudging him to make him move faster.
Kita stares at Atsumu dead in the eyes before Atsumu could close the car door. “Just promise me that you are not planning on making fertilizer out of me.”
“Are you kidding?” Atsumu scoffs. “There isn’t even enough room for a garden in my apartment balcony, Kita-san.”
Atsumu shut the door to Kita’s surprised face and runs to the driver’s seat. Pulling into traffic, he guns the motor and prays that he survives the night.
“So, what’s your name?”
“What?” Atsumu asks distractedly as he receives a text from Suna with pictures of the onigiri vouchers close to an open flame. “It’s Tsumu.”
“Tsumu?”
“Well, Miya Atsumu but since Samu and I share a face and a last name, I go by Tsumu instead to avoid confusion. Plus, it sounds cool and foreign.”
“Miya… Atsumu.” Kita repeats as Atsumu nods his head, trying to keep his eyes on the road and text one handed at the same time. “You might’ve heard of me, I’m pretty popular and I’ve been on tv a lot recently, even did a CM with ICS recently.”
Atsumu has to look over because Kita has been suspiciously silent and then he’s letting go of the wheel to lunge for the child safety locks, and everything dissolves into swearing and kicking and some really creative driving skills that Atsumu didn’t even know he had.
Despite the chaos inside the car, Kita manages to calm himself and level Atsumu with a stare. “Please keep your eyes on the road so we don’t die.”
“Sorry, I just didn’t want you to jump out of a moving car!” Atsumu twitches.
Kita continues to stare at him with a blank face, “No one in their right mind would jump out of a moving car, that’s dangerous.”
Atsumu smiles, “More dangerous than getting into a car with a stranger?”
“Yes,” Kita says and that seems to end that line of conversation. “So, tell me about yourself. If we are going to be boyfriends, we should know things about each other.”
Hooded brown eyes look at Kita indulgently before returning to the road, “Well, my name is Miya Atsumu, I’m a twin but I’m the older and more handsome one, born on the 5th of October 1995. Born and raised in Hyogo but I live in Osaka now. I’ve been playing volleyball since elementary school and now, I’m a professional volleyball player for the MSBY Black Jackals. I play as the starting setter for the team.”
“Hmmm,” Kita says, “I’ve seen you on tv during the Olympics.”
Atsumu nods his head with fervor he almost hits his head on the steering wheel, “Yeah, that’s me! You’ve seen me play, Kita-san?”
Kita nods his head too. “Yes, I did. Your sets were very good, very clean and precise. Congratulations on winning Bronze during the games.”
Atsumu has to fight the urge to turn his head to look at Kita again. “Do you play, Kita-san? What position?”
“Not anymore and not recently. I did play during middle school and high school as an Outside Hitter, but our team wasn’t very strong. I reckon that’s why we never met in the high school circuit, we never made it past the prelims,” Kita says matter of factly.
“I bet it would have been fun playing with you, Kita-san. I bet you were Captain too, you seem like the Captain type”
Kita shook his head but smiled, “I wouldn’t have been at your level, Atsumu, I’m just an average player. But I did get voted as Captain in my third year.”
Atsumu slaps the steering wheel and laughs, “I knew you were Captain material! You seem very responsible and caring, like a captain should be!”
“You don’t need to butter me up anymore, Atsumu. I already agreed to be your pretend boyfriend.” Kita says with a smile, “but I appreciate the sentiment all the same. Weren’t you captain of your team as well?”
“Well, yeah, but that’s because I’m me,” he responds confidently. “Tell me more about yourself Kita-san.”
—-
The remaining drive back to Onigiri Miya was spent in companionable conversation. Atsumu learns that Kita owns and manages a large organic rice farm, is actually a legitimate rice farmer and he was just dropping off the last of his deliveries for the day at a local organic market before Atsumu kidnapped him. He learns that Kita went to Fudai to double major in Agricultural Science and Business Management and that he’s taken over management of the Kita Family Rice Farm. He learns that Kita lives with his grandmother in Toyooka and enjoys watching Korean dramas after a hard day’s work at the farm.
Atsumu drinks in every bit of information Kita provides him and tells him it’s because he wants to make their relationship look real and legitimate in front of the team and has absolutely nothing to do at all with how Kita-san’s voice is so melodic and his eyes are so sharp but also so soft. Nope, it has nothing to do with being smitten at all.
“By the way Atsumu,” Kita starts, turning his upper half so that he is looking at Atsumu’s face. “What exactly is the plan here?”
“I figure, we go in, stay for an hour at most, and after we leave, I can drop you back to your car.”
Amber eyes continue staring at Atsumu.” And what happens when they expect me to show up at more of these get-togethers?”
“I’ll tell them we broke up, today, after this,” Atsumu says. “Samu knows how shit I am with relationships, he’ll totally believe it.”
For reasons Atsumu couldn’t understand, the sad looking Kita is sending his way was making him feel something funny in his chest. He hopes it’s not heartburn but more importantly, he hopes this whole scheme works.
—-
It works.
Kita charms everyone in the party right away. He greets everyone respectfully, compliments Osamu on the cleanliness of the store and the food, laughs at the jokes everyone tells, and tells some in return.
Atsumu and Kita act like they’ve known each other they’re whole life, trading quips and quotes, back and forth, lightening quick. Kita-san is smart and sharp, his logic a challenge to Atsumu who is driven more by his feelings and emotions. Atsumu has to scramble to keep up, and his blood sings with exhilaration he only ever used to feel on the court.
Akaashi thinks they’re adorable based on the set of his eyebrows. Osamu looks appeased as he hands Kita several onigiris and a glass of beer.
Kita touches him a lot too, bumping his hip to Atsumu’s thighs, tugging on his shirt, and tapping his open palm to get his attention. It’s very disconcerting. Atsumu is no stranger to being touched, he’s a tactile person in his own right, but he can’t help but twitch everything Kita reaches for him.
“Stop that,” Kita hisses at him lightly while the rest of the team was distracted with Aran’s story on the other side of the table. “People are going to think I’m abusing you.”
“Sorry, Kita-san,” Atsumu whispers back.
Atsumu makes himself relax and touch Kita back, and once his body gets used to the action, it’s nice. Surprisingly nice. He finds that Kita fits perfectly under his arm, whether he drapes it over his shoulders or wraps it around his hip. The hair at the nape of his neck is soft, and his scent has hints of citrus and something spicy.
And when Kita smiles at him, a real smile, the kind that crinkles the corners of his eyes and laughs at something he says, the burning feeling in his chest starts to feel dangerously close to fond, and Atsumu, for all his experiences in always having someone around him his entire life, doesn’t know how to deal with any of it.
The weird thing is that it feels comfortable, feels right, to have Kita-san there. Like Atsumu was originally designed to have a calm, grounding presence standing solid beside him and watching his back.
Like, it’s the most natural thing in the world, when Kita nudges him and hands him a fresh beer, to say, “Thanks, Kita-san,” and drop a kiss on the top of his head.
They both realize what happened at the same time. Kita’s eyes widen, and for a split second, Atsumu thinks he is going to be punched in the face and that they are going to have round two of their earlier parking lot fight inside Onigiri Miya. Then Kita tilts his head, like he just discovered something unexpected and interesting, and Atsumu’s throat goes inexplicably dry.
Setting his own beer down, Kita reaches out and tugs Atsumu closer by his belt loops. Atsumu stands stock-still as Kita studies his face, feeling helpless and unbelievably vulnerable. But then Kita leans his head forward, murmuring, “you can stop me at any time,” before slowly curling his hand around the back of Atsumu’s neck and pulling him down into a soft, sweet kiss.
Atsumu shudders as he runs his fingers up Kita’s cheek, the skin soft against the pads of his fingers. He licks into Kita’s mouth, wraps one arm around Kita’s waist, and slides his other hand into the rear pocket of his jeans to pull him closer. Atsumu closes his eyes and the kiss feels like coming home.
When they break apart, Atsumu is panting like he just finished drill training, and all he can see is Kita and his bright brown eyes, so gold this close up.
“Hi Kita-san,” he croaks.
Kita snickers at him, and Atsumu rubs his thumb over his laugh lines. Somewhere on the other side of the table, he could hear Osamu and Gin harassing them to get a room.
They stay for longer than an hour at the party.
—-
Later, while the team was sobering up for their drive back to their respective homes, Osamu turns on the tv for some background noise. The news channel is reporting an abduction of a twenty something year old man in a market parking lot in Hirakata. The news said that the man was grabbed by a thug with dyed blonde hair, probably yakuza, and was dragged into a black car although no one had a clear image of the kidnapper or the kidnappee.
“Uh…” Atsumu says.
Kita laughs so hard that he slides out of his chair and crashes to the ground. The rest of the party wonder what could be so funny about a kidnapping.
—-
Much later, when most of the team has left for the day and Atsumu is helping Osamu sanitize the tables and stack the chairs while Akaashi and Kita were in the kitchen preparing some takeaway for both Kita and Atsumu to bring home, Osamu claps him on the back with a smile, “Thanks for coming, and for finally bringing your Shinsuke with you. For a minute there, I thought you were lying about him just so I would leave you alone. I’m glad you’re feeling better after Sakusa-san dumped you.”
“He didn’t dump me! It was mutual!” Atsumu yells, aiming to smack his brother with the wet towel he was using to sanitize the tables.
Osamu laughs, “Yeah, mutual in that you were both single after he dumped you. But actually, he wasn’t single, was he? He’s hooking up with Ushijima now.”
Atsumu kisses his teeth and makes a ‘tch’ noise, ignoring his brother’s jab.
“But for reals, Tsumu, I’m glad you’re feeling better. When we heard about your breakup, you looked upset and I was worried you were gonna go down in a depression session. I’m glad Kita-san helped you recover. He seems like a really decent guy, makes me wonder why he’s putting up with you,” Osamu says, eyes serious.
“Shut up,” Atsumu says and jabs his elbow on his brother’s side in thanks.
—-
It’s late when Atsumu takes Kita back to his car. The drive back was just as companionable as the drive to the party but for the fact that it’s completely silent. Atsumu keeps sneaking looks at Kita, who is staring at the window with a stoic look on his face. Atsumu doesn’t really know what the proper protocol is for the situation, and really, what can he say? “Hey, thanks for pretending to be my boyfriend, everyone really bought it, and Samu thinks you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I don’t know what lie to make up to tell them about our breakup so how about we just go steady instead?”
“This is me,” Kita says.
Atsumu starts, and realizes he pulled up across the street from Kita’s rusty beat-up truck on autopilot. The news trucks and gawkers were all gone, and the parking lot is already mostly empty. “Oh,” he starts and reaches for his seat belt, “uh, let me walk you to your car, Kita-san.”
Kita huffs and waves him off, “What, all 20 meters? Don’t worry about it, I’m sure my virtue is safe. After all, I think the police might still be somewhere close by in case the kidnapper is still around.”
Atsumu can only groan in embarrassment and leans on the steering wheel of his car, “you don’t have to remind me, Kita-san.”
Kita chuckles as he unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door, hesitating before turning to look at Atsumu.
Atsumu’s heart, the traitorous bastard, stutters in his chest.
“This evening has been…” Kita starts, seemingly trying to pick the correct words to use before landing on them, “interesting. Very interesting, although I do recommend seeking mental help first before trying to kidnap someone for another one of your harebrained ideas.”
Despite his words, Kita is smiling at him, soft and unreasonably fond, and Atsumu can feel an answering grin on his face He probably looks like an idiot and if Osamu was here, he would call him gross, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.
“I will take that as a compliment, Kita-san.”
Kita’s smile grows impossibly softer, “Take it however you want, Atsumu.”
Atsumu responds with a kiss, because he discovers that he doesn’t say stupid or embarrassing things in front of Kita when his lips are too busy kissing Kita’s smile. His nose bumps against Kita as their lips slide wetly over each other, and Atsumu wishes they could just stay like this forever.
Kita is the first to pull away before leaning in again, pressing a chaste kiss on Atsumu’s cheek. “I’ll see you around.”
Atsumu wants to grab him and ask him to stay just a little bit longer, just for a couple minutes more, or maybe ask him for his number and if they could meet again, but the moment is gone and instead he watches Kita get into his truck and drive away, the headlights disappearing in the darkness before heading back to his apartment himself.
When he undresses for the shower, he finds a business card for Kita Family Rice Farm tucked into shirt pocket, a phone number scrawled on the back. Below it, in neat and precise kanji, is, before you start stressing about the socially acceptable amount of time to wait before calling, Suna-san gave me tickets to the Black Jackals v. Raijin game on Friday night. Would you like to go to dinner afterwards?
Atsumu stares at the piece of paper like a lifeline before grinning like a maniac. Smart and sneaky but super considerate, it’s hard to believe that he just found Kita-san in the street.
Feeling perkier than he has in a while, Atsumu can’t help but feel like this is the start of something great. So great in fact that he wouldn’t even mind sharing his Onigiri Miya vouchers with Kita.