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Atsumu wasn’t entirely sure why saying goodbye to Sakusa was so different.
Saying goodbye to Kita when he left for college two and a half years ago left him devastated. It felt like the end of his childhood. He had cried intermittently for about a day straight.
When Osamu moved away last September, Atsumu wailed the entire drive home from the airport. It felt like his heart had broken in two, and that one half had just gotten up and walked away.
Hell, when he himself had left for college a year and a half ago, he had put his head down and wallowed in his misery for the whole flight.
However, for each of these goodbyes, once the initial mourning period was over, Atsumu had felt exponentially better.
So, why, then, was saying goodbye to Sakusa so much different?
He had expected tears. Sobbing. Dramatics.
But watching Sakusa go through TSA and walk out of his sight left him… well…
Empty.
He had put on his sad playlist for the drive home, but he barely shed a few tears.
Instead, Sakusa’s absence left a dull ache in his chest. One that only intensified as days went by, unlike the pain he felt from being separated from his brother or his other friends. For them, he would occasionally feel a pang of sadness when reminiscing about the good times, but all in all, he was happy that they were pursuing their dreams.
Whenever he thought of Sakusa, of the days they had spent together, all he felt was an empty, persistent, heavy feeling. And it only got worse with time, as Atsumu realized that the close bond he had built with Sakusa was starting to crumble. It was like a sickness had entered his body, spreading, but killing him only at the slowest rate possible.
“Saying goodbye to Sakusa was different,” he mentions to Suna one day. It was only them at home now, Atsumu was on academic leave for a year and Suna was going to a nearby college and could live at home. As a result, they spent quite a bit of time together. Suna was driving them both to pick up some takeout from a nearby restaurant. The soft music and the peach-colored sunset reminded Atsumu of evenings spent in Sakusa’s room, and he was hit with the sudden urge to talk about what he’d been ruminating on lately.
“How so.” Suna doesn’t seem all too intrigued, eyes fixed on the road.
“Well, with Kita, and Aran, and my brother, I cried a lot and was sad for like a couple of days to a week, and then for the most part I was fine.” Atsumu tries to vocalize what he’s feeling. “But with Sakusa, I was nowhere near as crushed when he left, but even now, like a whole month later, I’m not over it.”
Suna shrugs. “Well, didn’t you only just get close with Sakusa, and haven’t you known the others for much longer? Maybe that’s it.”
Atsumu knows that that’s not why, but didn’t wish to talk about it anymore. He felt oddly exposed. “Yeah, maybe.”
Sakusa hadn’t texted him back in a day.
Atsumu threw his phone on the bed angrily after he caught himself checking for the 20th time in the past hour.
Sakusa had never been the best at keeping in touch. It was always up to Atsumu to do the legwork, to double text, to call, to show up at his house and throw rocks at his window.
Well, now there was no way for Atsumu to throw rocks at Sakusa’s window, short of hopping on a flight.
And, you know what, he was sick of always being the one to make the effort. Would it kill Sakusa to be the first one to reach out for once?!
I wonder what would happen if I just… didn’t text. If I left it up to him to say something, Atsumu thinks to himself. He resolves to not reach out, to see if Sakusa would take initiative for once.
Atsumu found himself sitting on his bed, palms pressed into his eyes.
It had been a day and a half since he had talked to Sakusa. A day and a half of letting Sakusa take the lead, a day and a half of not making the first move, for once.
And my god, did it hurt that Sakusa hadn’t texted. Atsumu wasn’t even sure why. He could go weeks without talking to his other friends and still feel fine, albeit a little guilty that he had neglected them.
It’s like Sakusa just forgot about him. Like the past few months spent at each other’s side hadn’t happened, or even worse, that they just didn’t matter to him.
He flops backward on the bed, defeated. How pathetic. Moments later, he sits up quickly and reaches for his phone, filled with the sudden urge to—
Sakusa’s name lights up his screen.
Atsumu stares at it, an incoming phone call. He wipes his eyes hurriedly, even though there’d be no way for Sakusa to see him, and picks up.
“Hey Omi,” Atsumu says nonchalantly.
“Hey…” Sakusa’s voice sounded so different over the phone. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. Is something going on?”
Atsumu blinks, taken aback. “I guess I’ve just been busy! Sorry!” He laughs, trying to mask his inner turmoil. “I mean, I haven’t heard from you lately either.”
The line was quiet for a moment. “I’ve been busy too,” Sakusa finally says, sounding a bit distant.
Atsumu swallows and shakes his head, wishing to get rid of whatever weirdness was floating around between them right now. “Nevermind all that, I suppose, how have you been? How’s school? Tell me about what’s been going on with you!”
They talk for the better part of the hour, updating each other on their respective lives, and otherwise just basking in each other’s company.
A horn sounds outside Atsumu’s house, and he jumps. “Shit! I forgot I made plans with Suna to go running today! I have to go, Omi!”
“Oh,” Sakusa sounds… off. “Alright then, bye.” He hangs up.
Atsumu stares down at his blank screen, and the pain in his chest that had disappeared for the past hour returned in full force.
Atsumu called Sakusa again the next day. Sure, he was still a little miffed that it had taken the other man awhile to reach out, but in the end, Sakusa had called (called! Not just texted!) so no harm, no foul, right?
Also, he really misses Sakusa.
Sakusa picked up on the second ring.
“Omi!” Atsumu said cheerfully as soon as he heard the click.
“Hey, Miya.” Sakusa sounded maybe a little distracted.
“Whatcha doing? How was your day?” Sakusa’s school was three hours ahead of their hometown, so Sakusa had probably just eaten dinner.
“Alright, just the same old. How’s being unemployed?”
Atsumu splutters, then laughs. “For your information, I am, in fact, employed. It’s my education that I’m slacking off on, remember?”
“Yes, I’m well aware. I didn’t know you got a job.”
“I got it last month, I’m a tutor at the local college,” Atsumu boasts.
“You didn’t tell me.”
Oh. Atsumu realizes that now. “Well, you know how it is Omi. It’s so hard to keep updated on each other’s lives with the distance and everything.”
“I feel like you’re pretty updated on mine,” Sakusa argues back.
“Not even! I don’t even know who your friends are, or if you joined any clubs, or if you have any hobbies there! Whenever I ask about your life you just talk about school.”
Sakusa huffs. “At least I don’t just complain the entire phone call.”
“I do NOT just complain! I make plenty of insightful and non-judgemental comments!
“Miya, your lack of self-awareness, and, well, awareness, in general, astounds me sometimes. How can someone be so sociable and charismatic and yet so… clueless.”
Atsumu blinks. He has a feeling they’re not just talking about their conversations anymore. “Charismatic, huh? You sure do think highly of me.”
Sakusa groans. “I’ll add selective hearing to the list of your faults as well.”
“Whatever, Omi, you’re just jealous.”
“Of what, exactly?”
“How amazing I am, of course.”
“Are you done stroking your own ego, yet?”
“Fuck you, Omi. You never even answered my question.” Atsumu playfully replies.
“It must have gotten lost in the midst of you boasting about yourself,” Sakusa mutters.
“Tell me about your life outside school, Omi!”
“There’s not much to say, Miya.”
Silence. Atsumu breaks it with what was supposed to be a joke “Well I guess I’ll just have to transfer to your university, then. I’ll be your life outside of school.”
Why didn’t that sound like a bad idea? Why did it actually sound like a good one? Maybe then Atsumu would be better this time, after his year-long break, and with Sakusa by his side.
“God, that sounds like a nightmare. I could barely put up with you for one semester, I can’t imagine doing so for four more.” Sakusa says, deadpan.
Atsumu knows he’s joking. “Oh please, you love me. You probably miss me so much. I see right through you.”
Sakusa makes a strange sound. “You’re so annoying.”
“I miss you too, Omi.”
After that, they manage to stay in touch a bit better. Sakusa calls way more often than he used to, and Atsumu texts nearly constantly.
Something shifts, though. It happens slowly, but eventually, Atsumu can’t help but notice it. At first, he thought that maybe Sakusa had just got busy with schoolwork. But midterm season came and went, and Atsumu was once again, the only one who seemed to be making any effort.
Atsumu calls Sakusa one afternoon.
“Hey Omi,” Atsumu greets Sakusa like he always does.
“Hey, Miya.”
“Can you talk? Are you busy?”
“Actually, I am a little busy.”
No offer to call back later.
Atsumu feels something inside him snap.
“Omi, if you didn’t want to be friends anymore, you should just tell me,” Atsumu grits out. “I’m tired of feeling clingy. And don’t give me the, ‘oh I’m just busy’ bullshit. I know you’re not too busy to send a text. Or talk for five minutes.”
Sakusa’s voice hardens. “Miya, last I checked, you aren’t my boyfriend. I don’t owe you anything.”
Atsumu inhales sharply, completely taken aback.
“But you’re right,” Sakusa adds, softly. “I haven’t been the best at reaching out lately.”
“Yeah, you haven’t,” Atsumu grumbles.
Sakusa sighs. “I’m sorry, it’s just— I just need a little bit of time to myself. To work through something.”
“To work through what?!”
“I’ll tell you someday,” Sakusa says, his voice a little strained. “Just, please don’t take it personally if I don’t call for a day or if I don’t text first or something.”
Atsumu can tell that Sakusa doesn’t want to tell him why. He also knows Sakusa well enough to know that pushing him won’t do anything.
“I mean… okay, I guess. You can tell me when you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Miya.” Sakusa sounds relieved.
“Why do you look like that.” Suna narrows his eyes as he takes in Atsumu’s disheveled appearance.
“Like what.” Atsumu snaps.
“Like, I dunno, your dad just killed your dog or something.”
“Wow, you’re so poetic.”
“Just answer the question.”
Atsumu crosses his arms and shifts forward, fixing his eyes to the dashboard of Suna’s car. Suna had picked him up to get food (pretty much the only thing they did together, that and running to burn off excess calories), the first time they were doing so in a few weeks.
Reluctantly, Atsumu answers. “Sakusa said he wanted time to himself and wouldn’t tell me why.”
Suna glances at him. “What did you do to him.”
“Nothing! He said that he needs to work on something? Like, what’s that supposed to mean? Why won’t he just tell me?!”
Sakusa looks at him again, this time with a peculiar look on his face, eyebrows raised, lips slightly parted.
“What!?” Atsumu exclaims, supremely frustrated, a bit sleep-deprived, and really fucking hungry. “What’s with the face!”
“Well, let’s lay out the facts. First of all, you act like Sakusa’s boyfriend. You text him constantly. You have daily calls. You look like someone broke up with you when Sakusa basically said he just wanted some space.” Sakusa is counting on his fingers, lifting a digit for each reason he lists. “He said he needed time to himself to work through something, and there’s definitely a reason he was so vague about that.” Sakusa sets his gaze on Atsumu, making eye contact.
“It just sounds to me that maybe… Sakusa might like you,” Suna says calmly.
Atsumu gapes at him.
“But what do I know.” Suna makes a left turn and presses the gas. “Sushi or pho?”
“Uh… sushi.” Atsumu stammers out. “He likes me?”
And just like that, the last puzzle piece falls into place.
Holy fuck, Omi likes me.
A second later, a new thought springs into his mind.
Wait, I like Omi.
What else could explain why it was so different saying bye to him? What other reason could there be for why he wanted to share everything with him, why he missed him so much, or why he seriously considered transferring schools just for him? The list went on and on, not like it mattered, because Atsumu was already convinced.
Later that day, once Atsumu had gotten home and into the privacy of his own space, he called Sakusa. It was late there, and he didn’t pick up, so instead, Atsumu left a message.
Well, it couldn’t be helped.
Tap.
Sakusa looks up from his computer, his attention drawn to the window.
Tap. There it was again unmistakable this time. A pebble, thrown at his window.
What the fuck. Sakusa’s heart thumped, part of his mind screaming at him, Atsumu, but the more rational, pessimistic side of him quelled the thought.
He hastened over to his window and raised it, sticking his head out, narrowly dodging the third pebble.
There, standing below his apartment, stood Miya Atsumu.
“What the fuck, Miya,” Sakusa says, his jaw dropping.
“Let me in!” Atsumu exclaims. “It’s fucking freezing out here!” His breath fogged out in front of him, trailing away and dissipating into the surroundings.
Without allowing himself to think twice, Sakusa ducked back into his room and raced down the stairs to the front door, throwing it open.
“Hey, Omi.” Atsumu smiles sheepishly. His hands are stuffed into his pockets, and his cheeks are rosy from the cold. Sakusa had forgotten how good Atsumu looked in real life, and he knows he’s staring.
Atsumu steps forward, and Sakusa steps to the side, helpless. “Please wash your hands, at least, if you were on some sort of public transportation.” Sakusa manages to say.
Atsumu laughs and finds his way to the kitchen where he does just that.
Sakusa follows him. “So do you care to explain why you’re here?” The rational side of him starts to take over now that the initial shock had faded.
Atsumu sheds his coat and hangs it up before speaking. “Can we go to your room?”
Sakusa frowns but silently leads the way. Once Atsumu closes the door behind himself, he turns to face Sakusa, his gaze downcast, fiddling with his fingers. “Omi, I— Well, I realized something.” He takes a deep breath and looks Sakusa in his eyes. “I think I have feelings for you, Omi.”
Sakusa blinks. Silence stretches between them. Eventually, Sakusa laughs.
“What the fuck, Omi, I just confessed to you! How could you laugh at me?!” Atsumu exclaims.
“I’m sorry, it’s just, I spent all this time trying to forget you, and now you show up at my door at 2 in the morning,” Sakusa says once he finishes chuckling.
“So does that mean you like me too?”
Sakusa smiles, ever so slightly. “You really are clueless, Miya.”
Atsumu takes a step closer, closing the already small gap between them. Slowly, ever so slowly, giving Sakusa plenty of time to pull away, he reaches out, and cups the side of Sakusa’s face.
Sakusa’s breath hitches. He stares directly into Atsumu’s eyes.
Atsumu’s thumb made small movements on Sakusa’s cheek. “I mean it, Omi. I really like you. I miss you constantly. I think about you all the time. That’s why I got so upset a week ago, I could feel you pulling away and I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize. I really don’t know why it did, but whatever, I’m just sorry. Will you give me just one more chance?”
Sakusa feels his expression soften. He was so weak for Atsumu. He always was, and he always will be. “Atsumu, I like you too. I thought you were the one pulling away from me, you went days without texting me, and you were always hanging out with Suna—”
“What?!” Atsumu says, a bit too loudly for the proximity, and Sakusa pulls away a little. “I was always the one texting first! I was tired of feeling like I was the only one making any effort! And for the record, I barely hang out with Suna.”
Sakusa averts his eyes. “I know, it’s just, the distance, and the whole unrequited feelings, it made me a little irrational, I guess.”
Atsumu laughs.
“It hurt, Atsumu,” Sakusa says firmly. “It hurt to have feelings for you while you were clueless about it and so far away.”
“I know,” Atsumu says, eyes full of regret. “I’m really sorry Sakusa.” Slowly, again, Atsumu wraps his arms around Sakusa, pulling him into a hug.
Sakusa wraps his arms around Atsumu’s back, resting his cheek on Atsumu’s hair. “I’m sorry too. For being distant.”
After a long moment of soaking up each other’s company, Atsumu draws back so they’re face to face.
“Can I kiss you?” Atsumu whispers, cupping the back of Sakusa’s head with his hand again.
Sakusa hesitates. He thinks about the past few months, how Atsumu befriended him despite his standoffishness, how close they grew, how much it hurt, god did it hurt, to leave him, and how much worse it hurt to watch him drift away. How he had decided to forget about Atsumu. How he couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried.
He thinks about the fact that Atsumu likes him. That Atsumu came all this way in the middle of the night, not knowing whether Sakusa was even awake, or if he’d let him in. That Atsumu is standing, his lips millimeters away from his, fingers entangled in Sakusa’s hair, their breath intermingling, and Sakusa decides.
Their lips meet, and Sakusa’s stomach flips. Atsumu’s lips are soft, and only slightly chapped, and they feel so amazing against his own. He buries one hand in Atsumu’s hair and circles his other arm around Atsumu’s neck, pulling him closer. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, earning a soft sound from Atsumu.
As much as he could do this forever, Sakusa forces himself to step back, breaking the kiss.
Atsumu looks at him with wide eyes and wet lips, and it takes every fiber in Sakusa’s being not to get tangled up in him again. “I kind of have class at 9 tomorrow, so I need to go to bed,” Sakusa says. “But… you could stay here if you want.”
Atsumu brightens. “I would love to!”
“You didn’t get a hotel somewhere already?”
“No… I didn’t think that far ahead.”
“You dumbass, what if I had turned you away?!”
Atsumu grins sheepishly. “I guess I just had a feeling you wouldn’t.”