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It’s a beautiful day outside. Birds are singing, flowers are blooming; it’s a perfect day for a game of catch.
Komori Motoya races past everything to avoid getting his ass kicked.
As he nearly runs into multiple people, he inwardly curses his boyfriend for being a jerk face. His phone buzzes and he doesn’t have to check it to know who’s calling.
“Motoya, where-”
“I’M ON MY WAY SO SHUT UP AND LET ME RUN.”
Sakusa sighs and Komori can visualize him pinching the bridge of his nose. “What happened?” he asks in a resigned tone, as if he had no other choice but to ask.
Thinking about the past makes him fume more. “Suna-” He forces himself to swallow the words ‘didn’t tell me we were going out with friends until after satiating his libido’ and instead says, “-didn’t inform me of our impromptu meet-up.”
“Motoya. I told you this a few days ago. We literally Facetimed and planned it out.”
Ah. Shit. “I forgot!”
He can hear his cousin’s scowl from across the line. “Then you have no one to blame but yourself, stupid.” Sakusa sighs again and taps his phone, the sound echoing in Komori’s ears. “We’re going to be late for our time slot if we don’t check-in soon. How long will it take for you to get here?”
Komori does the math in his head. The numbers swim around and then float away. “Uh.” He checks his map and bites his lip. “I think I’ll make the train if I sprint.”
Sakusa curses. “I don’t want to miss the chance to shoot Atsumu with paintballs just because you forgot about this. Don’t think I’ll hesitate to leave you behind.”
It’s not an empty threat. He knows that from years of experience and a slightly traumatizing hike in the forest at 2 am. Slightly. It’s a long story. “If you leave me, you’ll my first target.”
“I’m fairly certain I was always your first target.”
He thinks about last night. “Not anymore.”
There’s yelling from the other end of the phone. “I’ve got to go, Atsumu’s being an idiot again. Hurry up, alright? I don’t want you to miss this.”
“Yeah yeah, I’ll be there ASAP, or whatever.” The burn in his lungs starts to grow uncomfortable. “You think it’s too late to call an Uber?”
“That’s up to you and your bank account.” The yelling grows, and Komori’s fairly certain a fight broke out. “Listen, I have to-”
“Go? That’s kinda obvious. Thanks for all your help.” He considers their conversation. “Actually, you were no help at all. Goodbye.”
“Oh, fuck off-” Komori hangs up before Sakusa can get the last word in. The satisfaction is short-lived as he realizes he’s still incredibly far from his destination.
Damn you Suna, he thinks to himself as he slows to a stop to get an Uber. The next time I see you, you’re dead.
~~~
“You made it!”
One irritated Uber ride later, the bubbly sound of Hinata’s voice catches Komori’s attention as he enters the facility. “We thought you’d never show up!”
“Yeah, you can blame,” he glares at his unaffected boyfriend, “somebody for that.”
He looks around to see if he’s the last one there. Hinata, Bokuto, and Suna are all standing together in one area. Komori furrows his eyebrows. Where’s-
“Why the fuck are ya wearing Suna’s jacket?”
Everything comes to a halt as Komori realizes what he’s wearing. Turning slowly, he finds Sakusa hauling in the Miya twins by their ears, their hair tousled in a way that can only be explained with their scratched cheeks and flushed knuckles. Behind them is a tired worker who isn’t paid enough to deal with this shit. Komori vaguely reminds himself to tip them heavily as sirens go off in his mind. The smug look on Atsumu’s face is enough to shake him out of his thoughts.
“No.” He discreetly checks the sleeves only to find a 7 instead of his usual 10. “Maybe. What’s it to you?”
Sakusa lets go of their ears to stare at Komori. “Motoya, are-”
“ANYWAYS.” He hastily takes off the jacket and flings it at an unaware Suna who’s to busy scrolling through Tiktok to see the incoming garment. “Let’s get started already.”
Deep down inside, he knows he’s only prolonging the inevitable are you going out with Suna and why didn’t you tell me what the shit we tell each other everything talk with Sakusa, but he’s not ready to deal with that shit yet. Not until he’s murdered Suna at least three times.
They suit up, get the laydown of the rules and safety instructions, and unleash hell upon Earth.
~~~
“Psst. Motoya. Lemme hide here with you.”
Komori whips his head around to find a disheveled Suna trying to squeeze his way into his well-found sniper spot. It takes all his self restraint to not kick him out. “No. Fuck off before I shoot you.”
“Aw, babe, you wouldn’t do that.” Komori cocks his gun. “Okay maybe you wou- MOTOYA DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE.”
He thinks about it while keeping the gun trained on Suna. Eying their surroundings to make sure no one can sneak up on them, he sighs and lowers the weapon. “I’m still pissed, y’know.”
Suna’s gaze softens. “Hey, I’m sorry for yesterday. I shouldn’t have left so quickly.”
Despite his brain telling him to remain civil, Komori pouts. “I wanted cuddles.”
“I can give them to you now, if you want.”
He smiles, outstretching his arms as an invitation. “What’re you waiting for?”
They close the gap between them, apologies and forgiveness exchanged with fervent messy kisses. Komori feels his chest fill with warmth at their present and the soon to occur future. With a wave of his hand, he gives off a small, unimportant signal.
A single shot echoes in the room and Suna gasps at the pain erupt in his back. Paint drips from his clothes to the ground, a silent message.
“You…you…”
Komori kisses him hard before pushing him away. “Payback’s a bitch,” he whispers in his ear. Cackling, he runs away before Sakusa can entertain the thought of shooting him too.
In the end, Suna ends up shooting him. Komori shoots him back. Through smiles and betrayal, they forgive each other with paintballs and endless fun (for however long they can afford, at least).