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It’s easier sometimes, just watching, seeing people go by doing the things you desperately want to do. For a while, Kiyoomi could live vicariously through Komori, if anything Komori picked up a lot of Kiyoomi’s own social slack. Insert some joke about extroverts having an introvert to carry around. Fortunately, because of his cousins’ help Kiyoomi would say that he’s on pretty good terms with most people who were on his highschool volleyball team. Unfortunately, high school doesn’t last forever. Not that Kiyoomi would even want it to.
University was supposed to be a positive time for Kiyoomi to spread his wings and learn about himself and meet new people, and gain new perspectives. Which is only really what adults preach at you, he thinks, to sell the idea of going to school for 4 more years. Kiyoomi was sold on it, for the most part, until it became hard and lonely. Kiyoomi’s not a quitter, and in this circumstance, the only reason he graduated was out of pure spite. Spite he held against the very institution. Like a ‘fuck you, you can’t break me’ as if his mental state wasn’t a horrid patch up of children’s bandaids and a good healthy dose of necessary delusion.
Kiyoomi thinks that maybe his spite and need to power through to see it all to the end is why it’s taken him this long to really realize what he’s missing. He’s been seeing couples display gross amounts of unwantedly seen PDA since high school, but that shit truly goes up a notch when you’re in a dorm hallway past midnight, yes he is scarred. And all of that is all well and fine because he’d get over it has nothing to do with him, it’s not like the people involved could spare the time to see Kiyoomi giving them disgusted looks. He often wonders though, what actually compels a person to throw caution to the wind and get so drunk you’d end up practically undressing someone in a very public hallway.
Now he thinks he gets it.
Now he has a problem.
That problem's name is Miya Atsumu.
Kiyoomi has no clue how this has ended up this way. Actually he does. Miya is at least 50% more attractive than he last remembers, but lying about it makes him feel better, sue him. He might add that it’s just completely unfair that Atsumu is always “omi-omi”ing or “omi-kun”ing him, like it’s a personal mission of his to drive Kiyoomi up a wall. Mission accomplished Miya, go the fuck home.
The real problem is, Atsumu has known Kiyoomi too long. With all the training camps and the tournaments, he knows exactly how to piss Kiyoomi off. Just completely get under his skin.
“That’s three service aces for me Omi-kun, aren’t ya slackin’ a bit today?”
And of course, no line from Miya Atsumu could possibly be delivered without the fox-like grin, canines on display like a threat. At this point it’s only Miya’s fault he wants them to sink into his skin. The whole concept is so unfamiliarly gross to think about, and he can’t help but think about it.
“We’ve only just started practice, don’t get cocky, Miya.”
***
Kiyoomi gives this some real thought. Miya, are you doing this because you’re an asshole? He thinks for a while about it really. It makes complete sense. Atsumu never had it in him to show any sort of polite civility. Anything that could be seen as polite is easily washed away by his inability to stop smirking that stupid condescending smirk. So really it’s not completely out in left field to say maybe Atsumu riles him up because he IS an asshole.
But then Kiyoomi sees how Atsumu treats everyone else. His sets might always be demanding and he might always be prideful as a setter, but he’s almost always the first one to say ‘nice kill’ or to get Bokuto out of a slump by mentioning Akaashi. He’s always so friendly and lively in a group setting and gets Hinata and Inunaki to laugh at, in Kiyoomi’s opinion, his bad jokes. So when he gives it more thought he can’t really understand why it seems like Atsumu is purposely being an asshole to him.
More thought on it and Kiyoomi just gets more confused, because for all the goading and the insulting, Atsumu covers for him in interviews, and helps him wipe down the tables when he’s forced to attend a team outing and never tries to truly make Kiyoomi uncomfortable in a way that might actually make him angry.
“It’s ‘kay Omi-omi, crowds ain’t yer thing, so we’ve booked somewhere more private so ya’d come with us this time,” he once offered with what could only be described as a ‘sweet’ smile.
At this point Kiyoomi thinks not enough schooling could prepare him for this amount of critical thinking.
***
“If ya keep starin’ at the ball like that, yer face is gunna get stuck like that.”
Kiyoomi looks up from where he’s crouching to find Atsumu smirking down at him.
“So what if it does, the way my face looks won’t make me any less of a good player.”
Atsumu almost laughs at that, as his eyes crinkle a bit and he smirk becomes more of a smile, “yeah, but it’d be an awful waste of a pretty face don’t ya think Omi-omi?”
And like the absolute dick he is, he leaves as Kiyoomi’s face heats up.
***
Nothing is easy for Kiyoomi, especially because of the whole mysophobia thing. He’s been closed off to the world and other people, for so long has made these new revelations hard. Never has he really had to combat the twitchy need to touch a person. But with Atsumu, he almost feels like he has to sit on his hands to keep them to himself. Which makes him feel all sorts of things. One feeling is that he wants to vomit because of the scenarios that run in his head about touching Miya. Another feeling is the anxious butterflies clearly trying to fly out of him whenever he deems Atsumu a little bit too close.
Atsumu to his surprise, and his dismay, never really gets too close. Despite how much of an asshole he is, Miya’s known him long enough to respect his boundaries. His entire team does really, and now all of this respect that Miya’s displaying is suddenly getting on his nerves.
The waves of anxiety that hit when he thinks maybe he should start implementing touching people to his life, are overwhelming to say the least. What if Atsumu hates it? What if he does it wrong? What if his hands are sweaty or too cold? If he decided to high five his teammates or join a huddle, does that mean they’ll just start expecting it? What if he starts touching and people forget about his boundaries? What if Atsumu doesn’t want Kiyoomi to touch him?
All of these thoughts are unappealing, and the worst case scenarios are deterrents as is. But it’s becoming almost impossible to see Atsumu be able to hug Hinata after a good game, or see Bokuto lift him off the ground. Kiyoomi sees and he can’t help but want. As days keep passing this need to know what it feels like grows bigger. Something so embarrassing to him, how could he possibly ask for help with it? He can’t do it by himself, to interact physically he needs a willing second party, and he just can’t see anyone who would want to touch him considering the image he gives off. He knows he has a bitch face, he knows he’s not accommodating or friendly.
Really the only person he truly even wants to get physically close to is Atsumu.
***
Atsumu demands attention, and it’s Kiyoomi’s own fault that he’s just so willing to give Atsumu what he wants. He can’t help delivering childish insults right back at him when Miya purposely picks fights with him. He sometimes feels like he’s suddenly not in control of his own mouth when he’s talking to him.
“C’mon Omi, let me set for ya a couple more times,” Miya’s to what Kiyoomi believes is almost akin to begging, “just a few more minutes.”
“You said that 20 minutes ago Miya, I’m tired.” Kiyoomi sighs, “What’s wrong with you, you’re being more annoying than usual.”
Atsumu makes eye contact before looking off to the side and gives a pitiful laugh, “yer probably right, you can call it a day if ya want.”
The whole situation is irking him now. Usually Atsumu would rise to the bait with the annoying comment. Kiyoomi is not one who is good at comforting people and something about the atmosphere and the way Atsumu looks, makes him believe he’s about to be thrown into some conversation he will not know how to handle.
He bites the bullet, “Spit it out before I really do leave you here.”
“Yer just gunna call me stupid Omi,” Astumu actually whining now, “even I know it’s stupid!”
“So tell me so I can call you stupid and we can both go home.”
“Everyone’s out doing stuff, and I don’t wanna go and be alone in my apartment! Usually I just call ‘Samu but he’s gunna be busy today and I’m gunna be so bored and lonely!”
Kiyoomi groans.
“You’re right that is stupid.”
Astumu’s pouting at him now, as if to say ‘I knew you were going to say that’, but Atsumu doesn’t readily know that Kiyoomi’s just about whipped for him at this point, and the pout is actually working on him, because the next thing he blurts out is, “if you wanted to hang out you could have asked,” he quickly tacts on, “let’s do something that isn’t volleyball though, because I am actually tired” to save some face, which is probably red now.
To that all Atsumu can do is gape. His mouth opens and closes a few times before saying, “Really Omi? Ya’d hang out with me?”
“We’re literally hanging out right now” he all but scoffs.
“No this is different Omi-kun, I thought ya’d be more likely to stay if it were for volleyball, but yer saying you’d wanna hang out outside of volleyball!”
Now it’s Kiyoomi’s turn to gape, he didn’t even mean to say ‘let’s hang out’ in the first place, but now he can only flounder out a meek, “yes that’s what I’m saying” praying to any God that might exist, that his face isn’t as red as he feels it is. One look back at Miya and time should really just stop. Like honestly this is it. The world doesn’t need to continue past this moment.
Because in this moment Miya is looking at him and he’s smiling a sort of shy smile and his eyes are looking up at him under his stupid lashes and he looks almost cute. And Kiyoomi wonders if Atsumu ever finds it difficult to keep his hands to himself. Kiyoomi grunts and tells him they’ve got to shower before they decide to go anywhere.
***
And that’s how Kiyoomi ended up here. Sitting in Atsumu’s living room drinking tea, and pretending like he’s watching whatever movie he’s put on.
It’s times like right now where Kiyoomi can’t help but regret a bit, because while everyone was going out during highschool and university and learning how to flirt and kiss and have sex, Kiyoomi is struck by how empty being left behind is. To the point where it’s somewhat annoying that Atsumu has made him rethink his point of view for the first time since he was born.
He doesn’t really understand what’s changed. Even during training camps Atsumu was a hot headed asshole who really only thought about how good he was at setting. Not like Kiyoomi could really fault him. Atsumu was objectively the best setter he’s received a ball from, not like Kiyoomi could ever compliment him like that to his face, Miya would never let that go.
But Atsumu is sitting here, quietly laughing along with whatever is happening on the tv, and the wanting in Kiyoomi comes back full force. He thinks Atsumu is a different type of pretty with the hues of color from the images of the tv playing against his screen. Even during practice when he’s comfortably concentrated on his drills. Kiyoomi wonders what sort of face he’d make if Atsumu’s concentration was trained solely on him.
He wishes again he could freeze this moment. Living in this moment forever could be enough, he thinks.
Kiyoomi excuses himself to the bathroom to splash some water on his face and gain some sense of control before returning to the couch.
And if he sits a little closer than he naturally would, Atsumu doesn’t seem to notice.
***
“Yer wrists are freaky Omi, maybe today ya might win,” the smirks’ still there, but now they seem less like sharp accents to a jab and more like light fingers trailing down his back.
“Stop worrying about my wrists and start actually trying, Miya,” and if there’s none of the usual bite in the retort, no one seems to notice or want to comment on it
***
The Friday night hang outs continue from then on. They mostly just watch movies, or tv shows they both enjoy sometimes they even go out to eat together. But something about this Friday seems different. Atsumu seems almost skittish. Even more so after he suggests they play drinking games, and Kiyoomi hesitantly agrees.
“Okay Omi, this is a question game, I ask ya a question and you either answer honestly or ya drink and then you can ask me a question and so on an’ so forth.”
Kiyoomi believes this concept is simple enough, “Sure okay”.
“I’ll go first then, something easy, hm, if ya could travel anywhere where would ya go?”
Kiyoomi doesn’t really need to give this much thought, “Probably Brazil.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed that, with all the people living there and stuff,” Atsumu smiles, “you don’t have to answer but why Brazil?”
“Hinata made it sound like so much fun…” his words drop off as he becomes slightly embarrassed by his answer, that he’s now confided in Atsumu that he does in fact intently listen to Hinata’s wild stories of living in Brazil.
Atsumu stifles a laugh, “yeah he does, doesn’t he. Yer turn Omi-omi.”
It’s probably because they’ve had a few pre-game drinks before this, and because of his own inexperience with alcohol he’s a terrible light-weight it seems. Which is why his question is so not what he wanted to ask, “Why do you call me Omi, or omi-omi or omi-kun?”
Atsumu, the overconfident jerk he is, wouldn’t even need alcohol to state, “I give everyone nicknames, but I liked how annoyed ya get with me because of it.”
Kiyoomi’s eye twitches, “you’re an asshole, Miya.”
Full on laughing now he replies, “I know, sorry Omi-omi but yer hot when yer mad.”
Kiyoomi’s face must be red, he’s hoping the alcohol had made him red before so Atsumu doesn’t notice. He looks down, “it’s your turn you dick.”
“Who was your first kiss Omi?”
Kiyoomi peaks up to look at the small smile on Atsumu’s face, only to slam his head on the table they’re sitting at and groan. He debates just drinking and not answering. Is it too obvious what his answer is if he does?
“I haven’t had one yet,” he all but mumbles into the table’s surface.
“Omi either drink or speak up I can’t hear ya,” he knows at this point that 1. Atsumu did hear him and 2. He most definitely is smirking.
“I said, I haven’t had one Miya,” his head now back to look at Atsumu, glaring.
Atsumu’s smirk widens, “Another surprising answer from Omi-omi tonight.”
“How is that surprising? You know I don’t really like people in my space, what would compel me to put my mouth on someone?”
“C’mon Omi, I thought about it, and I get the germ thing right, but yer just too pretty, surely someone must’ve tried?” Atsumu takes a sip of his beer before he continues, “Plus don’t forget I was with you at those training camps, you looked like ya had the biggest crush on Wakatoshi-kun”
Kiyoomi blanches. “Wakatoshi? Are you for real? Sure he was a good volleyball player, and I noticed he brought around his own handkerchief, but outside of wanting to study him in a volleyball sense, I did not have a crush on him!” Kiyoomi takes the shot in front of him, he grimaces as he continues, “plus I didn’t even get my first crush until this year!”
He’s pouring another shot out when he notices that Atsumu has become eerily quiet. He looks up again to find Atsumu staring at him. Realizing a bit too late that he’s just confessed he has a crush on someone. He opens his mouth to say something, but his brain is quite literally short circuiting.
“Who is it?” Atsumu has become quite serious now. “C’mon Omi ya gotta tell me now,” he whines trying to regain some normalcy since the shift in atmosphere.
“No I don’t. Plus it’s not even your turn so shut up.” Kiyoomi is melting under the intensity of Atsumu’s stare right now. He knows that when his turn ends he’s going to have to address that question again and he’s not currently prepared to deal with this.
He asks his next question and it sounds as shy as he feels, “What does it feel like?”
“What does what feel like Omi?”
“Kissing,” he’s 100% sure he’s beet red by now, as if he wasn’t before, he feels so much more warm.
Atsumu takes a deep breath, “Depends on who yer kissing Omi,” if Kiyoomi notices Atsumu’s gaze lower to his own mouth he’s really too much of a coward to think about it right now.
“Depends how?”
Another deep breath, “Well if yer kissing just anyone it’s usually just good, I guess there are bad kisser too, but if yer kissing someone ya like it usually always feels better.” Atsumu looks up, gaze still dark.
“O-oh,” he gulps.
“Omi-kun,” Kiyoomi watches as Atsumu licks his lips, “Do ya think ya’d ever want someone touching ya?”
The fact the blond didn’t use this opportunity to ask about his crush surprises him as Kiyoomi breathes out a shaky, “yes, eventually”.
Now it’s Atsumu's turn to slam his head into the table. He tilts his head so while it’s resting on the surface of the table he’s now also looking up at Kiyoomi, “yer killin’ me ‘ere Omi-omi,” he groans.
Blame it on the alcohol, or maybe just his newfound overwhelming urge to be near Atsumu, he’ll blame it on anything at this point as he reaches out and brushes Atsumu’s bangs out of the way of his eyes.
Desperately wishing there wasn’t this tiny table between them, Atsumu closes his eyes as Kiyoomi continues to basically pet him.
“It’s yer turn Omi,” Atsumu reminds him, eyes still closed.
Kiyoomi pulls his hand back, and tries to think where to go from here. Atsumu’s head begins to rise from the table, head now resting on his own hand as he continues to stare. He can’t think of a question with Atsumu looking at him like that. It’s distracting.
“Why’s it distracting Omi-kun?” Kiyoomi again realizes his mistake as he watches Atsumu’s face morph to wear his stupid trademark smirk once again.
Kiyoomi decides the best course of action is to kick him from underneath the table. Which seemed full proof, but Atsumu catches his leg between his own and holds Kiyoomi hostage there.
“Omi-omi that wasn’t very nice,” He yanks Kiyoomi’s leg, pulling him down his own chair as Atsumu now has both of his hands holding on his thigh above his knee, “I only wanted ta know what was so distracting.”
Kiyoomi is helplessly peering up at him from where he now sits low in his own chair to allow the new position of his leg.
He huffs, “You know you’re pretty, your ego’s big enough that you don’t need me to have to tell you that Miya.”
Atsumu almost immediately let’s go of Kiyoomi entirely, and Kiyoomi watches as Atsumu looks down toward his own legs, his ears turning red. Kiyoomi sits up a revells in this new discovery, “oh so you can hand out ‘pretty’ as a compliment to whoever, but you can’t take it?”
Atsumu let’s out a strangled sort of noise, and what sounds like a “be right back,” before rising quickly and rushing into his kitchen.
Kiyoomi, feeling bold, and like he doesn’t want to be left behind anymore, follows.
Atsumu is hovering over the sink as Kiyoomi approaches. Kiyoomi leans his back against the counter beside the sink.
“Compared to what I’ve said tonight, I don’t get why you’re so embarrassed that I think you’re pretty.” He says as he crosses his arms.
Atsumu laughs but doesn’t offer a response, and Kiyoomi let’s out the breath he didn’t even know he was holding, “It’s still my turn to ask a question right?”
“Yeah I suppose it is,” Atsumu sighs.
“Atsumu,” he whispers.
Everything stops then. It feels like it did all those months ago when Kiyoomi first accepted to hang out with him. Decides maybe this is where time should stop, as Atsumu looks up to him in shock.
“Atsumu,” he shuffles closer and Atsumu swivels his body to be facing Kiyoomi, “Atsumu.” he repeats.
Atsumu’s breath can only be described as ragged, “Omi yer really tryna’ kill me now.”
Kiyoomi is basically in Atsumu’s space now, he can feel the heat coming off of the blond in waves, his heart is beating so hard and loud he’s almost certain Atsumu can hear it. And it doesn’t at all feel like what he thought it would. Being this close to Atsumu doesn’t quell any hunger he was feeling, if anything, it’s been magnified.
Their noses are touching now that Kiyoomi has leant down a bit, “Atsumu, will you please kiss me?”
The question was spoken quietly but with the current silence, it felt loud.
“If ya call me like that Omi, I’ll do just about anythin’ for ya,” he replies breathlessly.
There can’t be any way that they could possibly be closer, and maybe it’s a little payback for the last 5 minutes, but Atsumu decides he will grant this request much more slowly than Kiyoomi anticipated.
It starts with the blond taking his hand and slowly trailing it up Kiyoomi’s arm, a wave of goosebumps follow as Atsumu touches his bare skin. Kiyoomi takes shaky breaths in and grasps the bottom of the blonds’ shirt to gain some stability. Atsumu’s other hand starts to snake around his waist and reaches the middle of his lower back just seconds before his first hand curls around his neck.
Kiyoomi is breathing hard, eyes closed, as the blond pulls him closer still. Kiyoomi can’t help it anymore as his own hands unfurl from where they were gripping Atsumu’s shirt. One hand follows up Atsumu’s own arm at the same slow and light pace that was shown to him. He rests it where Atsumu’s hand is now cupping his cheek and he leans his head further into it. He takes his other hand and trails it up Atsumu’s other arm until he’s cupping his exposed elbow.
“Are ya sure Kiyoomi?” the raven haired man now understanding Miya’s previous statement about being called ‘Atsumu’, he nudges back at the man in front of him.
“Atsumu, please just get on with i-”
His almost snarky reply is cut off, as Atsumu finally presses their lips together.
Kiyoomi sighs and instantly melts into Atsumu, his hand that was originally by his own face, now desperately clinging back on Atsumu. The need to be so much closer is overwhelming. Lightheaded and running out of breath, Atsumu pulls away. The kiss in nature was chaste. What the kiss left behind, was a completely different story.
“W-was that ‘kay,” Atsumu is trying to catch his own breath as he stutters out, “I-I don’t want ya first kiss to be bad.”
Kiyoomi has yet to open his eyes, or give the blond and sort of space, “I thought you said it always feels better when you’re kissing someone you like.”
He chances a glance at Atsumu by opening his eyes, and he’ll change his mind for the 100th time. This moment right here. The way Atsumu’s looking at him right now. This is where time should stop.
Kiyoomi’s never been in a position where he can see the wanting of another person in their eyes. Seeing the wild desire in Atsumu’s eyes, almost reminds him of all those times playing against him in highschool. When the blond really got into the zone eyes taking on a ravenous look, he always looked at competition like he was a starved animal, and the only sort of fulfillment he could gain was a win. Having that stare now fixed on himself filled Kiyoomi with something that could only be described as molten lava.
“Omi, if yer not careful I’m not gunna be able to control myself around ya”
Kiyoomi nudges their noses together again as he breaths out, “the only person trying to hold you back is you ‘Tsumu.”
This time, despite not having any sort of experience, Kiyoomi initiates the next kiss, both his hands coming together to cup the blond's face. Atsumu all but groans into this, as he flips them slightly so his body is pushing Kiyoomi up against the counter, his hands on either side of Kiyoomi’s waist.
The kiss gets more heated as the blond swipes his tongue across Kiyoomi’s bottom lip. Kiyoomi can do nothing to help the fact that his body grants Atsumu’s tongue access without much thought.
Kiyoomi is on fire, the tingling is everywhere, as he feels every inch of Atsumu pushed up against him. Kissing and licking into his mouth, Kiyoomi is helpless to the non-stop waves of pleasure he’s receiving. Atsumu suddenly changes course and starts moving kisses down Kiyoomi’s face and throat. He nips gently at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, Kiyoomi moans deeply as the blond starts to sooth over it with his tongue.
Kiyoomi’s own hands mimic what Atsumu had done before as he grips the blond’s hair tightly as Atsumu makes his way back up Kiyoomi’s throat, placing a final kiss squarely on Kiyoomi’s aching mouth.
He sighs, “Ya have no clue how long I’ve wanted ta do that Omi,” he removes his hands from Kiyoomi’s waist to rest them on the counter on either side of him.
“Probably not as long as me, Miya,” Kiyoomi’s still reeling and breathless.
“What happened to calling me by my actual name Omi-omi?”
“I don’t think I’ll survive if you kiss me again like that Miya.”
The blond laughs, “I’m the one who must’ve died and gone ta Heaven Omi, don’t take this away from me. I promise I’ll keep my hands ta myself if ya just keep saying it from now on.”
None of this is easy Kiyoomi thinks, he’s got all over and trembling, completely overwhelmed by the situation at hand. But despite all of the wound nerves and anxiety the need to be in this moment with Atsumu outweighs it all.
“I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself,” Kiyoomi is obviously on some sort of trip from this high, there’s no other explanation for the utter embarrassment he’s muttering at this point, “I want you to keep on touching me, I want you to show me what it feels like.”
“I don’t think my heart can take anymore of ya confessions Kiyoomi, yer gunna send me to an early grave.” He bows his head to rest on Kiyoomi’s shoulder, “Seriously Omi, I’ll give ya anythin’ I swear it, but just agree to be mine, go on a date with me Omi-omi.”
Kiyoomi, despite himself, is feeling quite content here, his hands stroking up and down Atsumu’s back as he carefully notes the certain pathways that make the blond shiver and tense.
Atsumu rises to look at Kiyoomi, the question still hanging in the air.
“Couldn’t say no even if I wanted to,” he teases.
“OMI! Don’t act like this is some sort of punishment, I’m layin’ out my heart for ya ‘ere!”
“God, if you were me you’d understand,” he’s smiling in full force, “you’re so annoying, and you’re an asshole, what am I getting myself into?”
“That might be true, but what does that say about ya! Ya must love me if yer willingly to sit in my company every friday for the past couple months!”
“Yeah, I guess I must, huh”
Atsumu drops his head back down into Kiyoomi’s neck and groans out, “this is so unfair Omi, I’m supposed to be the smooth one.”
Kiyoomi laughs loudly at this, “tell you what, you can be smooth tomorrow, when you take me on a date.”
He can feel the smile Atsumu’s making on his neck as Atsumu himself starts to laugh as well, “I’m gunna romance ya so hard Omi, won’t know what hit ya, sweep ya completely off ya feet.”
Atsumu meets his eyes again, “I’m so in love with ya Omi.”
And as Kiyoomi kisses him again in agreeance with his sudden confession, he thinks he could get used to this feeling. And if they go to bed and cuddle together and wake up together that’s really none of your business.