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In practice, it was a great idea, and up until a certain point, it was going excellently. He had watched the game, MSBY versus EJP, during the lunch rush at the restaurant, one of the tv’s he kept above the bar tuned to the game. His customers knew that whenever the Jackal’s played, Onigiri Miya would have it on.
He had sent the text near the end of the fourth set, right after a mean spike by Shuugo put the Jackal’s at set (and match) point.
TO: MEIAN SHUUGO
>> nice kill, victory party at mine when you get back ;)
The reply followed mere minutes after the press wrapped-up with the team.
FROM: MEIAN SHUUGO
<< Your brother is right beside me how am I supposed to respond to this without attracting attention?
TO: MEIAN SHUUGO
>> apologies, meant to eat him in the womb, was kinda full that day
FROM: MEIAN SHUUGO
<< ‘kinda full’
<< Said Osamu never
TO: MEIAN SHUUGO
>> door will be unlocked, should i expect you or what??
>> (image attached)
FROM: MEIAN SHUUGO
<< !!!!!!!!!! yes
FROM: MEIAN SHUUGO
<< but also YOUR BROTHER IS RIGHT BESIDE ME
The team wasn’t due home until pretty late so he was able to close up the shop (a bit faster than usual, and right at 8 o’clock rather than the usual 8:30) and make it home with time to spare. He took his time in the shower, making sure he was incredibly clean and prepped himself while thinking about the night in store.
When he emerged, towel wrapped around his waist, squeaky clean and ready for business, he was feeling on top of the world. That’s when the best part of his plan got to take action. He made his way to his room, crossing to the garment neatly folded on top of his bed. He had nicked it a week ago from Shuugo’s gym bag when he’d come over straight from practice, smoothing his hands over the white number 4 printed across the jersey, the name above, MEIAN.
It wasn’t his official one, but the spare one he used in practice. He’d been complaining about missing it all week, but he was pretty sure he’d understand.
Grinning as he slipped it over his head, he reveled in the extra fabric. It was fun drowning in it a little bit. The shoulders were definitely too big, but if he draped it right he could reveal his collarbone, which, glancing in the mirror, was definitely the right call.
Shit, I sound like Tsumu.
Checking his phone for the time and ignoring a text from said twin, he realized he didn’t have a ton of time until he’d arrive.
He hears shuffling outside his door. Looks like he’s out of time.
The door swings open and he hears feet on the genkan as he drops his phone on his bed, takes a deep breath and makes his way down the hall to the front door.
“Good game Captain. Are you ready for-”
“Oh my god.”
To reiterate: up until this point, it was a great idea. However, at this point, it was everything but.
Because this was not Meian Shuugo slipping his shoes off in his genkan, because Meian Shuugo did not carry a personal hand sanitizer. Said sanitizer clatters to the floor as the owner stood shell shocked, not quite processing the sight of his brother-in-law standing naked from the waist-down in nothing but his captain’s jersey.
“What are ya doin’ here Omi?!” He scrambles, trips over his own feet and crawls behind his kitchen counter, peeking over at Kiyoomi whose face has gone ghostly pale, eyes bugging out and looking like he wanted to melt into the floor.
“Don't call me that and cover your ass! Holy fu- Didn’t you get Atsumu’s text?” Osamu shakes his head, while his hands try to arrange a tea towel over his lower half. “We need your spare key, Okaa-san is coming next- oh my god.” Something seems to click in Kiyoomi’s head. “You said Captain. ”
Icy horror seeps through his expression as he looks at the number 4 on the jersey as Osamu stands, tea towel secured. Then it dawns on Osamu.
“Oh shit, I have to text him.” He holds the towel tightly as he dashes past the frozen Kiyoomi to his bedroom where he fires off a flurry of texts.
TO: MEIAN SHUUGO
>> RAINCHECK
>> DONT ASK
>> DONT COME OVER
As he drags on a pair of sweatpants and removes the jersey, replacing it with a comfy hoodie, he receives a reply.
FROM: MEIAN SHUUGO
<< Everything okay? Sounds like an emergency.
He groans audibly and mourns what was going to be a really good night, making his way back down the hallway.
TO: MEIAN SHUUGO
>> it is. family drama
And he sends another picture, but this one is a shot of a still frozen Kiyoomi, standing in his kitchen. Pocketing the phone, he makes his way to his kettle and gets to preparing some tea.
For a few minutes, Kiyoomi just shuffles into a seat at the table, waiting for tea, not speaking, until they’re both settled together. It’s somehow tense, but comfortable. Osamu waits for him to break the silence.
“I’m going to tell him.” And that shouldn’t shock him, it really shouldn’t, because of course Kiyoomi wants to tell Atsumu immediately, but he’s going to fight it.
“Ya can’t!” It’s not his most compelling argument, but it’s been a turbulent night.
“He’s my best friend, I have to tell him.” Fuck them and their perfect fucking relationship and their fucking stupid communication.
“He’s also yer husband.”
Kiyoomi shrugs, “Even more reason to tell him.” No really, fuck them.
“He’s my brother.”
“Then you should have already told him.”
“Stop-! Ugh. Stop makin’ sense. I liked ya better when ya hated him.” He receives a heavy eye-roll.
“I never hated him, I just can’t stand him sometimes. You wouldn't understand.”
“Wow, I wonder why?” He makes sure to lace it with sarcasm. Then, with much less sarcasm, “You two are perfect fer each other, I hate it.”
“No you don't. You just can’t stand it. See? I guess it is pretty simple to understand.” That fucking smirk.
“Yeah, sure, whatever, fine . Just, let me tell him okay? I promise, I’ll do it soon.” Kiyoomi shakes his head while swallowing the last of his tea, setting it back down with finality.
“You need to tell him tonight, I won’t keep secrets from him.”
“But it's my business who I fuck!” He’s whining, he knows it, and the look Kiyoomi gives him tells him that he knows it too.
“If you want to keep stuff from him, that’s your business, but seeing as you’re sleeping with our friend and colleague, it’s our business too. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“And Osamu? If Meian-san oversteps, you tell us. Atsumu will lose his shit, but we’d rather know.”
“Sure, Dad.” Kiyoomi scoffs and Osamu burns red, but it is appreciated. Weird, but appreciated. “Here, I’ll ride back to yers with ya and tell him. Gimme a few minutes to find yer spare key and gather my tools.”
“Tools?"
“Trust me, we’ll need it. Also, sorry fer flashing ya.”
“Honestly, I should be used to it at this point. Atsumu usually-”
Osamu screams over the next sentence. Kiyoomi cracks a content smile, having enacted his revenge.
---later---
“What?” Atsumu’s expression is beyond dumbfounded. It’s completely offline. Osamu continues unloading the containers he had packed for the ride over.
“I’m sleepin’ with yer captain.”
Atsumu looks to Kiyoomi, who’s seated beside him on his phone, then back at Osamu, “No.”
Osamu sighs, they’ve been over this a few times now. “Yes I am.”
“What?” They’re stuck in a loop.
“I am having sex with Shu-” He stops himself. His brother’s already overwhelmed. “Meian-san.” It feels weird calling him that.
“No ya aren’t.”
“Yes I am.”
Atsumu shakes his head now, blonde hair flopping. “Uh-uh. No-puh.” He pops the ‘p’ in nope. Osamu rolls his eyes and sends a prayer to their ancestors for patience, finding a plate to dish out the contents of one of the containers onto.
“Ya want some fatty tuna?”
“Yes please.”
10 minutes later, Atsumu is still sitting silently at the kitchen table, working through enough fatty tuna to feed the JNT, Kiyoomi beside him still scrolling wordlessly through the internet. Osamu has moved into the living room and switched the evening news on, snacking on a salmon onigiri.
“What the fuck, my captain ?”
There it is.