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Atsumu is late.

Half an hour late to be exact. He's late to his 9 AM biology lecture that his professor pointedly told him not to miss, or else she'll deduct marks from his final grade. Meaning all those sleepless nights and mental breakdowns he had to endure up until now would be for nothing, and he absolutely can't have that.

He mentally curses Osamu for not waking him up earlier. The dickwad probably took one look at him drooling all over his pillows and snapped several pictures to send to Suna before leaving him to die like this. The thought fills him with so much anger he resists the urge to do something dramatic, like jump off his window or something.

The sexual tension between my head and this wall right now, he thinks. 

Which is why he's here now, shoving papers in his backpack as he dodges around unpacked boxes, hair a complete and utter mess, shirt lopsided, and he's pretty sure he's got his jeans on backwards. Not like he has the time to fix it. A shame really, but there are more pressing matters at hand here.

He locks the front door behind him, and is just about to sprint the rest of the way to campus when he trips on his untied shoelace, face-planting on the marble floor so hard he's certain it'll leave a nasty bruise right smack in the middle of his face.

Atsumu is fairly certain this might be his last straw. Today is just not his day.

Sighing dejectedly, he kneels down on someone's doorstep, knowing full well there's no point in hurrying when he's already this late. Once he's done tying his shoelaces, he props himself back up again, debating whether he has it in him to sprint the entire way to class. That is, until his neighbour's door swings open, sending Atsumu toppling backwards as he lets out a shriek so shrill he flushes in embarrassment.

"Jesus, fuck, are you okay?"

Atsumu groans, rubbing at his sore forehead. He looks up to see a pretty guy around his age, wearing a beige sweater that looks surprisingly large despite his tall frame, dark hair uncombed, circular glasses perched atop his nose and eyes wide in surprise. Distantly, Atsumu notes the two moles on the guy’s forehead, perfectly aligned and having no reason to look as good as it does. This is all fine of course, but now he’s in a terrible mood and the guy is clearly trying — and failing — to stifle his laughter.

"Do ya think this is funny?" Atsumu asks incredulously, disbelief bleeding through his words as he gets up to glare at the guy. Who, annoyingly, is taller than he is. Who's also apparently his neighbour. In the back of his mind, he wonders how he's never seen him until now, although him and Osamu did just move into their current flat only a week ago.

"Sorry, wait," mystery boy says, another snicker escaping his lips. "Shit, I'm being such a dick right now, but you should have seen your face. You know, when you landed on your ass."

"Yes, of course, it's definitely my pleasure to be the source of yer wrongly-placed amusement," Atsumu quips, rolling his eyes as he hoists up his backpack. "If you'll excuse me, I have a class I'm late for."

"Wait, let me make it up to you!" the guy calls out as soon as Atsumu takes his leave. Atsumu deliberately ignores him, and he thinks he's doing a great job at giving him the cold shoulder when he trips on nothing. Fucking hell.

At least he didn't land on his face this time.

He hears mystery boy snort from where he's standing a few feet behind him, and Atsumu feels his ears fume red, not looking back as he trudges his way to the elevator, the other boy's laughter still ringing in his ears when he's already halfway to class.

///

"The fuck happened to your face?"

Atsumu sighs tiredly, instinctively reaching up to touch the two ugly bruises blossoming on his skin. He's heard this question way too many times in a span of two hours, and he's really starting to hate his next-door neighbor. Beside him, Osamu smirks, before turning to Suna settling down across from them on their usual lunch table. "This bruise," Osamu says, lightly tapping at the darkening mark on Atsumu’s chin, "is from falling on his face when he tripped this morning."

Atsumu tries to shove him away, that brat, but Osamu continues. "And this one," he adds, pointing at the swelling purple lump on Atsumu’s forehead, "This came to be when our godsend of a neighbor flung his door open as this dumbass was kneeling right outside."

“Hey!” Atsumu protests. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Osamu ignores him. Suna bites his lip, obviously trying not to laugh, before inhaling in a deep breath. "Oh, you poor soul," he tuts, and Atsumu guesses it's supposed to sound comforting, but Suna is never comforting. Besides, he’s starting to turn red from holding in his laughter, and Atsumu wants to whack him.

"And he didn't even apologize!" he exclaims angrily, Osamu erupting in another round of laughter. "I mean, a simple 'sorry' could have worked, but he-"

"He what?" Suna implores when Atsumu drifts off, but Atsumu’s eyes have strayed from his friends and are now fixed on the figure who just entered into the cafeteria hall, wearing an all-too-familiar oversized beige sweater, a black mask now covering the lower half of his face, obsidian eyes scanning the hall.

"Shit," Atsumu hisses, and from the corner of his eye he sees Suna and Osamu try to follow his gaze. "That's him. Literally what the hell?"

"You sure, 'Tsumu? Maybe you're seeing things now," Osamu says, but Atsumu recognizes those curls anywhere. Suna is still trying to pinpoint where exactly Atsumu’s staring at, and to his surprise, a suspiciously uncharacteristic blush appears on Suna’s cheeks, before he turns away to look back at Atsumu.

"Please tell me you're not talking about the guy wearing a sweater despite it being the middle of the day," Suna says, twisting back to the both of them. Atsumu furrows his brows at him.

"Do ya know him?" he asks, which only earns him a sigh.

Brushing his bangs aside, Suna says with a seemingly nonchalant wave of his hand, "I, uh, may have had the tiniest crush on Sakusa before I started dating ‘Samu. Just a small infatuation. I’ve run into him a couple times." He clears his throat. "It's not that big of a deal really."

No, it is a big deal, and Atsumu finds himself gaping at this newfound information before he could stop himself, sensing Osamu doing the same. "Sakusa? Is that his name?" he questions, and Suna nods.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi, if I’m not mistaken.”

Atsumu continues to stare at his neighbour, Sakusa, who's now seated alongside Akaashi Keiji, who Atsumu knows to be Bokuto’s boyfriend, though they’ve never really interacted for more than three fleeting seconds, and another guy with a shock of brown hair and weirdly-shaped, circular eyebrows. Sakusa’s mask now hangs from one ear as he takes a small bite of his food. An unfamiliar torrent of emotion spikes in Atsumu’s chest.

From across the room, as if he sensed Atsumu’s withering gaze, Sakusa turns to meet his eyes, the shadow of a smile playing at his lips as he offers a curt, civilized nod. As if he didn't just knock Atsumu down with his fucking door and proceeded to laugh at him just hours before. Atsumu blinks, seethes, and mentally flips the other guy off.

"’Tsumu?" Osamu is saying, and Atsumu feels an unnecessarily hard slap to his arm. "Oi, aren't you coming?"

Atsumu forcibly shakes himself from his daze, looking up to glare at his brother, only for Osamu to roll his eyes. He glances around the room to see everyone else packing up, throwing away the remains of their lunch as they make their way back towards their remaining classes. It must be time already, and Atsumu looks back at his friends, both Suna and Osamu now staring at him with amusement, matching smirks on their lips. He really hates when they look at him like that. He swallows down a dry cough.

"Yeah, wait," he tries. He stands, and the three of them walk alongside each other, Osamu going on a tangent about something that happened in his economic class earlier, how some guy apparently got 2/50 in a test they had with the two points being for his name, with Suna throwing in some side comments here and there. Atsumu joins in soon after when he catches Suna offhandedly mention that’s definitely something Atsumu would do, waving aside prickling thoughts of twin moles and tousled dark curls.

Classes have finally ended for the day, and Atsumu is just about to head for home and crash for the rest of the day when it starts raining. Heavily. Which makes no sense, because Atsumu swears the sun was scorching the streets outside just an hour before.

Letting out a tired exhale, Atsumu casts his eyes skyward. 

He begrudgingly makes his way towards the front doors, contemplating whether he should fuck it and run home while possibly catching a cold when something hits him square in the dick. Hard.

The effect is instant. He rasps out a groan, immediately doubling over, wanting nothing more but to curl up in a ball as the pain seeps past his legs and into his stomach. The throbbing lingers, incapacitating his entire body for a moment, and Atsumu bitterly looks up from where he's crouched on the floor to see what the everliving fuck just happened.

He immediately wishes he didn't.

Out of all the people in this damned campus, Sakusa is standing over him, an opened umbrella in one hand and the other covering the way his lips part open as he gasps in surprise. Biting back a growl, Atsumu slowly gets up, a surge of déjà vu rushing over him.

"I- I'm sorry," Sakusa stammers, and Atsumu thinks the other guy is scared, regretful even, for a split-second, before noticing the infuriating way Sakusa’s stupid lips twitch upwards as he obviously tries to fight the smile demanding to show on his face.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you?" Atsumu accuses, and Sakusa has the audacity to look shocked.

"What?" he scoffs, staring back at Atsumu, and something like annoyance or adrenaline swells deep inside his chest. "I'm not that big of an ass to do something like that, you know. I did apologize, didn't I?"

Atsumu resists the urge to roll his eyes, huffing out a laugh. "Yeah, sure ya did," he snips back, and is just about to leave before he does anything he'll regret to that outrageous asshole when said outrageous asshole tightly latches on to his wrist. Turning his head, Atsumu stares at Sakusa, then at Sakusa’s hand holding on to his wrist, then back to Sakusa again. He feels his cheeks flush in anger.

Sakusa himself seems to realize this, quickly letting go of his grasp and brushing a stray curl out of his eyes. "Uh, sorry," he says, and Atsumu continues to stare.

"Okay," he drawls. "Can I go now? Unless..." A tiny smirk creeps up on the edges of his lips. "What, you wanna confess yer love to me or something?"

He smiles in satisfaction as Sakusa’s jaw drops open, the slightest hint of a blush apparent on his pale skin, but then Atsumu blinks and it's gone as sudden as it appeared, replaced with an aggravating sparkle in his eyes that makes Atsumu’s blood boil.

"Thanks, but no. I'm not into guys with an ego bigger than their dick," Sakusa says coolly, and Atsumu watches, irked, as Sakusa raises a single, perfect eyebrow. "And, with all due respect, you quite literally have the sex appeal of a business transaction." With that being said, Sakusa holds his umbrella above his head, walking out into the street, looking back only once to throw Atsumu a coy grin.

"Have fun getting drenched in this rain, Miya."

Maybe if Atsumu wasn't so focused on hurling profanities at the other boy in his head, he would have realized how he's never told Sakusa his name.

///

"I hate him, holy shit. No wait, I loathe him. I absolutely despise him. I've known him for a day and the mere thought of him makes me want to catapult myself out this building."

Suna nods along, sipping the monster drink he has in hand as Atsumu continues to rant from where he's crashed in Suna’s room, long limbs splayed all over the other’s bed.

"Of course," Suna assures understandingly. "I mean, if someone hit me right in the dick with their umbrella, I'd be pretty mad too."

Propping himself on his elbows, Atsumu turns to look at him, before sighing and plopping back down on the bed. "I can't tell if yer being sarcastic or not."

Suna merely offers a knowing smile. "Too bad you guys are neighbours."

Atsumu groans into a nearby pillow, letting out his recently developed frustrations because just why exactly was he cursed with the misfortune of having someone like the absolute dick that is Sakusa Kiyoomi for a neighbour. 

"You know what I hate even more about him? Apparently, he has a cat. A cat that leaves it's litter all over my doormat. I mean, I was runnin' back to my flat earlier, soaking wet from the rain, only to be greeted with the sight of cat shit all over my new mat. And ‘Samu wouldn’t even help me clean it up!”

"How do you know it's his cat, though?" Suna questions sceptically, putting aside his now empty can, before crossing his legs again and leaning back into his armchair. Atsumu scowls.

"Because," he tells Suna, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I asked around and he's literally the only one with a cat on our floor." Suna makes a small noise in understanding, and Atsumu pauses for a second before flashing Suna the most desperate, innocent look he could muster. "Can I please move in with ya, Rin?"

"Yeah, no," he deadpans, before humming contemplatively. “Osanu, however… “

“Gross,” Atsumu cuts in before Suna could say more, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Nevermind. I regret bringing it up."

Suna purposely ignores him, instead opting to say, "You know, Sakusa isn't the asshole you make him out to be, ‘Tsumu." When Atsumu merely throws him a dubious glance, Suna lets out a small exasperated breath and continues.

"Look, I get what you're saying here, but Sakusa’s not a bad person. And no, I'm not saying this because I kinda liked him before. As far as I know, he’s pretty nice. He's smart, and he keeps more to himself, but he's apparently pretty great once you get to know him," Suna says, and Atsumu frowns. "Maybe you should give him another chance."

"Over my dead body," he scoffs, and Suna exhales, grabs a nearby pillow, and smacks him off his bed.

It’s nearing 6 in the evening when Atsumu comes back home from Suna’s place, just in time for Osamu to be back from his last class for the day.

“Were you at Rin’s?” Osamu asks, in lieu of an actual greeting. Atsumu nods, taking his shoes off and dumping his bag right beside it.

“Yeah. Have you made dinner yet? I’m starving.”

“Cook yer own food, you lazy ass bitch,” Osamu grumbles, but Atsumu can clearly spot the two servings he’s making, and he allows himself to crack a smile. 

“Right, before I forget,” Osamu adds, back turned to Atsumu as he washes his hands. “Bokuto-san told me to tell you that he texted you. I think he’s coming over?” Osamu shrugs. “Something like that anyways.”

“Oh.” Atsumu blinks in surprise. It’s not surprising for Bokuto to come over and binge-watch several movies with him; he does that a lot, especially when they don’t have any important class to be in the next morning. Except Atsumu’s pretty sure Bokuto has a lecture tomorrow. Atsumu’s confident actually, considering the guy nearly blew up his phone earlier with complaints and several keyboard smashes on how he’d rather sleep in with Akaashi than attend an hour-long class on the stock market. “I’m taking a shower first though, just let him in when he arrives, alright?”

“Oh, thank God,” Osamu huffs out. “You were stinking up the place with how nasty you smell. Take your time. And that’s not a request.”

Atsumu nearly chucks his phone at him. “Fuck off, ‘Samu.”

Pointedly ignoring Osamu’s obnoxious laughter, he drags himself over to his room. He figures he could unwind a bit before Bokuto arrives, so once he's done picking out a playlist — a Red Velvet one, because Atsumu truly does believe in the power of girl groups — he sets the volume to the maximum, hops into the bathtub, and lets out a contented sigh when the water warms his tired body. He knows his brother doesn’t mind the volume nor the song choice. Hell, Osamu enjoys listening to girl groups even more than he does.

Only three songs have played when a loud, incessant knocking is heard from outside their front door. Atsumu tells himself Osamu will get it, but when it continues on for another 20 seconds, he frowns, reluctantly putting the playlist on pause.

“‘Samu!” he yells. “Get the fucking door and let Bokkun in, jackass!” 

Even from two rooms down, he can just feel Osamu rolling his eyes. What comes next is a scathing, “I’m on call with Rin, you dick! Get it yourself!”

Atsumu feels his jaw drop in disbelief. Osamu is probably still in the kitchen, and the front door is right there. Himself, on the other hand, is sitting ass naked in a fucking bathtub.

When two more harsh raps on the door occurs and it still remains unopened, Atsumu mutters a curse under his breath and gets up, his body immediately missing the warmth, and wraps a towel around his waist. He pads his way through the living room, meeting Osamu’s eyes from where his brother is sitting out on their tiny balcony, phone in hand. Atsumu sticks his tongue out. Osamu flips him off.

Turning the key, he swings the door open for Bokuto to finally come in.

What he was not expecting, however, was Sakusa Kiyoomi to be standing right outside, without a mask this time, hand hovering in the air as a rose-pink hue seers through his cheeks as he eyes Atsumu up and down in shock. Belatedly, Atsumu realizes he should have at least put on some clothes, and he feels his face flame to the color of a bad sunburn.

"Do ya need something?" he asks in false cockiness, because Atsumu is starting to feel very self-conscious with the way Sakusa’s staring at him. Yeah, sure, he knows he’s hot, but the way Sakusa is looking at him makes him feel… small. Which is ridiculous, considering he’s literally over 6 feet tall. He'd rather die than let the prick know that though, and he straightens his back and raises his chin in arrogance, deliberately ignoring the height Sakusa has on him.

Snapping his eyes upwards to meet Atsumu’s gaze and not his chest, Sakusa snorts, yet Atsumu doesn't fail to notice the fading rosiness in his cheeks that gives away his air of confidence. Atsumu bites back a smirk.

"Yes, actually," Sakusa says, staring hard into Atsumu’s eyes. "I don't know if it's because you're new here or what, but this apartment has extremely thin walls. So I'm over here, trying to study for the economics test I have tomorrow, but you're blasting 'Bad Boy' at full volume and I'm starting to get pissed."

"Oh, so you're pissed, you say?" Atsumu provokes, folding his arms and leaning on the doorway. "Just today, you threw me down with yer door, propelled an umbrella at my dick, and I come home, tired and wet from running in the rain, only to see your cat's shit all over my doormat. But no, you're pissed."

A flash of hurt flickers on Sakusa's face, and Atsumu’s heart clenches, before immediately berating himself for it.

"Hey, I never wanted all those to happen," Sakusa says with a tired sigh. "I'm sorry for today, and you can continue hating me or whatever. Just… please lower down your music? This test is really important and I can't afford failing it."

Atsumu feels his eyes soften without his consent, just the tiniest of fractions. He knows what it’s like to not want to fail, after all. "Yeah, whatever," he mumbles, and there's a stinging flutter in the cages of his ribs when Sakusa smiles at him. It’s small, barely noticeable if you aren’t looking closely, but it’s there.

"Thanks," he breathes out. He looks at Atsumu one more time, then walks back to his own flat, shutting the door behind him.

Atsumu does the same, not wanting to go down with the flu, especially when he’s already risked catching it after he went running under the rain. Releasing a soft exhale, he locks the door, turning to head back inside. He almost screams though, when he sees Osamu just standing there, head cocked to the side and a knowing grin on his face.

“So,” he starts, and Atsumu refuses to look at him. “What was all that about?”

“I don’t know what yer talking about,” he replies instead, making his way back into the shower. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a bath to finish.”

When Bokuto arrives a few minutes later, Atsumu has to try hard to not think of the way Sakusa looked under the shitty apartment lights, pink flush high on his skin.

///

The next time he runs into Sakusa – almost a week later on a Friday afternoon – is purely an accidental coincidence and an utter mistake on Atsumu’s part.

In all honesty, he's been having another one of his terrible days, having gone downhill the moment he realizes he's forgotten one of his essays on the kitchen's countertop. Of course, by the time he made that realization, he hadn’t had time to go back for it without being late for class.

After that, his professor decided it would be a great idea for a pop quiz, one Atsumu’s certain he thoroughly and completely flopped. Then he was reminded of a biophysics presentation due in a week that he's nowhere near started, and Atsumu was a thread away from ramming his head on his desk.

All in all, a pretty shitty day.

Which is exactly why he decides to stop by a café after classes. There’s a new one that’s popped up a few blocks away from his apartment, just a quick walk away from campus, and the cakes displayed by the window look absolutely heavenly, moist vanilla cakes and rich chocolate brownies that gets Atsumu's mouth watering each time he passes by.

So he saunters in after little deliberation, reaching for a menu and finding an empty seat. He's so engrossed in checking out the glossy pictures decorating the laminated sheet that he startles and nearly falls out of his chair when he hears someone say, “Are you ready to order?”

And when he looks up at the waiter, the excited smile he's stupidly got on abruptly slides off his face.

"You," he spits out with a scowl. He's taken back to the week before, and suddenly his faded bruises are a fresh painful bloom across his face. When the bastard looming over him with his stupid moles and stupid hair throws him a crooked grin, Atsumu thinks his blood pressure spikes by roughly another hundred degrees.

"Miya," Sakusa greets, easy and casual like they're friends, and Atsumu feels his scowl deepen.

Usually, he can hold his behavior in public just fine, but looking up at Sakusa like this, a glint in eyes that's been haunting Atsumu’s current raging dreams, he wonders if he's up for it.

The cake, he tells himself. He also reminds himself that he's technically an adult now, not the same reckless kid he was before, and with that final reminder he forces his eyes upwards. 

"Why are you here?" he asks, but all Sakusa does is arch a composed eyebrow at his glare, that goddamn smile growing just the tiniest bit more.

"I mean," Sakusa starts slowly, glancing at him with amusement flickering in his eyes. He gestures at his uniform, and Atsumu very pointedly does not look at how Sakusa’s arms look barely hidden by the thin, nearly translucent material of his dress shirt. "I work here. So I’m obligated to ask if you need more time, but I've already waited over ten minutes before coming over. If you haven’t figured out what you want by now, I kindly ask for you to stop loitering around and leave."

"You'd be fired before you know it if ya keep that attitude up, Kiyoomi," Atsumu bites back, lips in a curl as his eyes slice at the other boy. Sakusa blinks down at him in surprise, pink dotting his cheeks, before his expression morphs into an all too smug smile. Atsumu catches himself breathing out a silent sigh of relief. Sakusa almost looked cute. That could have been a disaster.

With a light slam of his hand on the tabletop that nearly startles Atsumu from his train of thought, Sakusa lowers himself until their eyes meet. He's smiling, and this close Atsumu can almost make out the flecks of green in his irises. It's kinda mesmerizing, he thinks dumbly, before immediately scolding himself for the thought and narrowing his eyes defiantly at the other boy, challenging him.

"I'll make sure to kick that pretty ass of yours before that happens," Sakusa mutters. His breath is hot against Atsumu’s skin, an almost-there curve on his lips. He straightens his back, and the action is a relentless grate to Atsumu's nerves.

As if nothing happened, he asks, "So, what can I get for you today?" in an awfully cheerful tone that makes Atsumu want to walk out and never see the guy's face ever again. Ending up in jail for homicide is nowhere near his bucket list, after all. Plus, he’s not too sure Osamu would want to bust him out either.

But his stomach says otherwise, grumbling like a fucking earthquake, and he huffs out a breath. He tries for a smile too, because he's a civilized adult who's perfectly mature when it comes to dealing with less-than-pleasant people, even if his brother tells him he’s a jerk himself, and he says, "I'll have the blueberry cheesecake." Then, his grimace of a smile turning unbelievably strained, he adds, "Please."

"Anything else?" Sakusa questions in that same annoying tone. Atsumu has to fight back the increasing desire to slam him against the closest hard surface. 

Looking up at the other boy with his lips in a thin line, he says, "An iced coffee could work too."

Sakusa nods, juts down another few words in his notepad, and with one final look flashed at him, he turns on his heel and leaves.

Atsumu wonders how much more he can take before something in him snaps.

As Sakusa walks away, he finds himself hesitating for a brief second, before pulling out his phone. After glancing around to make sure that no one's looking, he clicks a quick photo of Sakusa in hopes of getting some blackmail material, only for him to bend over at that exact moment to pick up a dropped napkin.

Atsumu turns the phone back towards him, and feels his cheeks burn dangerously warm all too fast. 

Of course, the picture comes out a bit blurry, but it's clear enough for him to see the distinct curve of Sakusa’s ass and the way his jeans cling to his thighs right there in plain sight.

He clicks the little trash can on the corner, before pausing. Cautiously, he chooses not to delete it, turning off his phone and coughing into his fist.

Just because Sakusa’s got a horrible personality doesn't mean Atsumu can't appreciate the view.

Said waiter walks towards him just a mere few moments later, placing his order down on the table. He's got a smile faker than the little plastic cross he's got dangling from his ear. Oh that's new, Atsumu thinks to himself. Not that he's been paying attention, of course not.

"Here's your order," Sakusa says with feigned politeness, bringing Atsumu back to reality. Leaning closer, he whispers right into Atsumu’s ear and effectively making goosebumps rise on his skin, "And, just for your information, I've got ninety-six percent customer satisfaction." He holds up six fingers. Atsumu has to trample down the ever-growing urge to scoff. "Ninety-six."

"Ya sure it isn't just six percent?" he asks, and Sakusa rolls his eyes. Atsumu wants to roll his face. 

The thought makes him feel the tiniest bit better.

"Ninety-six," Sakusa enunciates, a tiny smirk creeping up his face. It makes Atsumu's left eye tick. With one, final nod of his head and a wink at Atsumu's direction, Sakusa does a swift 180 and walks away.

Which is good. Perfectly fine. If he'd stayed for any longer, Atsumu’s sure he might have stabbed his fork through Sakusa’s side.

He sighs, taking a sip from his coffee and banging his head against the table.

Atsumu’s not sure how, but his day only continues to grow worse, what with him stirring from his sleep later that night when he hears a loud thud, followed by a series of grumbles and a litany of profanities muttered right outside his door.

He grunts out an annoyed little groan, rolling over his mattress and peeking at the digital clock perched beside him. 2:37 am.

Okay, what the fuck, he thinks groggily, sitting up and rubbing the much needed sleep away from his eyes. Who could that be so early in the morning? Unless it’s Osamu back from Suna’s place, but Atsumu highly doubts that.

Somewhere in the corner of his head, a loud voice is telling him that he shouldn't bother, that he should just go the fuck back to sleep and ignore whoever's swearing up a storm on the other side of the wall. But when he hears what he thinks might be papers rustling, followed by another curse, he decides to confront what he assumes is his neighbour in a refined manner like any other normal person instead of flipping them off in his head.

He props himself up, pinpricks of color dancing in his eyes when he does it a little too quickly, and throws a pair of sweats over his boxers and an old shirt over his head. Running a hand through his hair, Atsumu heaves a sigh, before faking what he hopes is a smile and cracking the door open. 

Not for the first time that day, he feels the smile he's got on wipe off his face when his gaze lands on a pair of very familiar green eyes, so dark it’s almost black. But Atsumu knows better.

Sakusa looks like a deer caught in headlights, almost stupid really, with the way the other boy is crouched on the floor, rummaging through his gray backpack with a handful of papers strewn at his side. With a tiny jolt, Atsumu notes the dark rings under his eyes, something he hasn't seen until now, heavy and pronounced and made clear under the shadows. There's a creaking in Sakusa's knees when he stands up, stumbling and leaning against the wall for support. Somehow though, he still finds the energy to jut his chin out at Atsumu, despite looking like he might collapse any second. Atsumu frowns, eyeing him suspiciously.

"What are ya doing?" he finally asks after an uncomfortable second of silence, motioning towards the miscellany of objects on his welcome mat. "Is this like, a prank yer planning on me or something?"

Sakusa seems to shift back to reality at that, a frown quirking at the corner of his mouth. “Does this look like a prank to you?”

“Actually, I have no idea what I’m lookin' at right now.”

Biting his lip, Sakusa lets a sigh escape him, shoulders slumping as he shakes his head. "Sorry if I woke you up," he says, actually sounding genuine. He gathers up his things off of the floor, meeting Atsumu's gaze with a tired smile. It's kinda off though, his usual snark gone, and Atsumu isn't too sure how to react. "I couldn't find my house key."

"Oh." Atsumu blinks. He's still barely awake, and it's taking him a little too long for him to grasp the situation at hand, which is exactly why he finds himself letting his guard down. He opens his mouth to say something, when a new thought plants itself in his head and he hears himself asking instead, "Wait, were ya at work this whole time? You've only gotten home now?"

Sakusa stares at him warily, lips dipping down at the corners. He looks around with doubtful eyes, like there might be hidden cameras somewhere because there's the hints of concern in Atsumu’s tone that they both know all too well is breaching unfamiliar territory. But Sakusa gives in in the end, sucking in a soft inhale through his nose.

"I went to the library after my shift ended, to study for this other test I have in a few days. Guess I left my keys back in the café though, because I can't find them at all," Sakusa tells him, voice coming out in a whine. Atsumu wonders if he's doing it on purpose. To test him maybe, or to drive him over the edge. And then, face scrunching as he stifles a yawn, Sakusa groans out, “I’m so tired, fuck."

And because Atsumu is still barely awake, with his guard already far, far down, he feels himself opening his door by another inch. "Do you, uh… " he starts, but can't seem to continue, and Sakusa furrows his eyebrows. Atsumu wonders why the fuck his ears feel so hot. 

He swallows thickly, opening his door all the way. "Do ya wanna stay at my place for the night?" he asks in one swift breath. He doesn't realize what his words could imply until it leaves his mouth, and he feels his eyes widen in realization. Sakusa must have noticed too, what with the way he looks taken aback, and Atsumu is quick to assure, "Just for tonight. Since you don't have yer keys and all. My twin brother is at his boyfriend’s anyway, and I don’t mind.”

Sakusa peers into his flat for a moment, and Atsumu follows his gaze. It's not like he's ashamed of his living space or anything; his apartment is clean for the most part, just a couple more unpacked boxes pushed against a corner. Sakusa drifts his gaze back to him then, crossing his arms with squinted eyes. "What's in it for me?"

"Oh, I don't know," Atsumu snorts, rolling his eyes. "A place to sleep?"

A pause. And then, lowering his eyes even more, Sakusa asks, "Why are you being nice to me?"

Atsumu has to physically stop himself from frowning. "Don't let it get to yer head, sunshine," he retorts. "I'm not being nice, I'm bein' decent. So would ya rather sleep on my doormat or get your cute little ass inside already?"

Sakusa blinks, once, then twice. It's maddening. Even more so, when a sideways smile starts to creep on his face. He tilts his head. "You think my ass is cute?"

Feeling his cheeks flush, Atsumu takes in a deep breath before gathering up the last remnants of his decaying composure. Fucking hell. This isn't happening. They're probably just sleep-deprived. Yeah, that must be it. They're so far out of their heads they're actually having whatever this conversation is.

But Atsumu gets grumpy when he doesn’t get enough sleep, so he lifts one hand in a little wave as the other finds the doorknob. "Well then," he starts pleasantly, already closing the door. "You're being a dick again, so I guess I'll just leave ya to it. Goodnight."

His door is a single inch from shutting completely and forgetting this whole encounter ever happened when Sakusa shoves his leg in, yelping a little when Atsumu accidentally rams into his foot. Once again, he cracks open his door, just enough for him to peek through the thin opening and watch Sakusa clutch onto his foot, hopping on one leg.

"Christ, wait,” Sakusa hisses. "I didn't say no." Placing his foot down, he adds, albeit a bit reluctantly as he meets Atsumu’s gaze through the narrow fissure, "It'd be… nice, if I could stay over. Thanks. You know, for offering."

Atsumu lifts an unimpressed brow, fervently paying absolutely no attention to the thud somewhere in his chest. "That's that, then," he says with a final nod of his head, and further steeling his resolve, he invites Sakusa in.

After seemingly weighing his nonexistent options, Sakusa steps in, cautious and tense, as if something would jump out into the open and onto him if he isn't careful. Atsumu huffs out a silent scoff.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” Sakusa mumbles softly. He looks around for a few moments, though there isn't much to see. Like most college students, Atsumu and Osamu are tragically broke, having just gotten lucky with this apartment from the years they’ve spent saving up money and the handfuls of bills their parents left for them before leaving for Tokyo. There's a conjoined kitchen and living room fit for a couple people, with a bathroom and two bedrooms off to the side. There's some pieces of furniture here and there too — a couch, an armchair, a couple of drawers and cabinets — and framed pictures of him, Osamu, and Suna hanging on the walls from when they were younger. Atsumu, however, doesn't realize the bigger problem until Sakusa points it out.

"So, um," he starts, scratching the nape of his neck. He's hesitant, Atsumu realizes. Almost shy. It's kinda funny, how Sakusa isn't acting like a total dick, but Atsumu can't bring it in him to laugh, especially when Sakusa says, "Where will I… you know… " He trails off, face contorting like he can’t believe this is happening, and he makes a vague hand gesture that could honestly mean anything. 

"Where will ya what?" Atsumu asks.. "I don't know what this-" he makes the same vague hand gesture, "-means."

Sakusa pouts, and it’s so fucking endearing Atsumu wants to punch something. Maybe himself. "Where will I sleep?"

Oh. Atsumu’s eyes flit to the side for a second, clearing his throat. "The couch is kinda small, and I'm not that big of an ass to let you sleep there when ya look like some six foot something half-dead zombie, so you can crash in ‘Samu’s bed, I guess. He’ll probably be fine with it.” Atsumu purses his lips in thought. “Probably.”

Sakusa shifts uncomfortably. “I’m not gonna sleep in your brother’s bed if you’re not a hundred percent sure he’ll be fine with it, Miya. Do you have a spare mattress?”

“Picky much,” Atsumu mutters out loud, earning a glare from Sakusa. Resigned, he sighs and says, “We do actually, for when Sunarin sometimes comes over. You sure ya don’t wanna sleep in a bed? I can sleep in ‘Samu’s and….” He feels his face scrunch up, hoping the flush he feels isn’t as obvious as he thinks it is, “you can sleep in mine.”

Sakusa looks at him in bemusement, before replying breezily, "That's okay.” He plops his bag on the floor. "I wouldn't want to sleep in a bed that belongs to someone I barely know anyway."

"Now listen here, you ungrateful shit-"

"Where's the bathroom?" Sakusa asks, cutting him off and throwing him an innocent smile that makes Atsumu wonder if this whole thing was the right decision. "I've got some spare clothes I wanna change into."

Atsumu grits his teeth. He might actually burst a blood vessel. "First door on the left."

Another innocent smile. Atsumu's really starting to hate himself for this. "Thanks, Miya," Sakusa says, and just like that he walks off, disappearing round the corner. Which is most definitely a good thing, because Atsumu might just fling him out the door if he keeps acting so awfully obnoxious. If Osamu was around, he’d probably say something like how Atsumu has no right to say that when he’s just as awfully obnoxious, but still. When that happens, then Atsumu really can't make any promises for his behavior.

He sighs again, probably the tenth time since he's woken up, and hunts for the futon in Osamu’s room. Hurling it down onto the floor beside his bed, since there isn’t enough space in the living room, what with all the boxes and furniture is what he tells himself, he hears the bathroom door creak open. Atsumu straightens his back, taking in the sight of Sakusa in a fresh pair of sweats and an oversized white shirt. 

He doesn’t mean to stare, not really, but when Sakusa’s looking ridiculously soft and so unlike the person Atsumu knows, he finds it hard not to. When the other boy's lips start to form the beginning of a small, vexing smirk, Atsumu thinks his blood vessel actually does burst.

"You'll be sleeping here," he says instead, keeping his voice level. Grabbing for an extra pillow and blanket from the closet, he shoves it down on Sakusa’s arms. "And ya can take these too."

Sakusa sniffs — actually sniffs, the fucking audacity — the duvet, nose wrinkling in distaste as he holds it as far away as his arm lets him, pinching the material between two fingers. "You haven't washed these recently, have you?" he questions accusingly. Atsumu feels another vessel pop.

"Look, do ya want to sleep here or not?" he asks again, just borderline exasperated at this point. "Because I swear, if one more complaint comes out of your mouth then-"
 
"Okay, okay, I get it," Sakusa is saying, cutting him off mid-sentence and raising his hands up defensively. "Sorry for complaining, if that makes you feel better."

Atsumu doesn't reply, too busy calming himself down from the sheer nerve of this guy. He can't have another blood vessel bursting, that certainly can't be good.

Instead, he watches Sakusa carefully sit himself down on the futon, prepping up the pillow and placing his phone beside it. Sakusa smiles up at him then, but Atsumu can't bring himself to scowl.

"So," Sakusa starts, mussing up his hair. His eyes, Atsumu notes stupidly as Sakusa's next words are lost to his ears, are clearer when it's illuminated under the light of his lamp. Kinda… pretty.

Christ. He did not just think that.

This must be the sleep-deprivation getting to him, he realizes in horror. He's so intent on shoving that thought away to the deepest, darkest crevice of his mind that he nearly misses the way Sakusa's staring hard at him, the shadow of a stupidly pretty amused smile passing over his lips.

This time, Atsumu does scowl. "What are ya staring at me for?"

"Me?" Sakusa huffs incredulously. "You were the one staring."

"Fucking Christ. Yer impossible."

"Yeah, well, you're insufferable."

Atsumu glowers, feels a growl escape him, and his glare must have come across as more intense than he intended, because Sakusa immediately backtracks, clearing his throat. "Insufferable, yes, but also surprisingly…  nice for letting me sleep over." Sakusa says it like his throat is clogged up, and it's hard to get the words out. That fucker, Atsumu thinks. It must show on his face too, because Sakusa smirks then, and oops, there goes another blood vessel. "So, um, thanks and everything. And goodnight, I guess."

He plunks himself down on his pillow and spins away from him before Atsumu has the luxury to even say anything. With Sakusa's back now turned to him, Atsumu fakes a kick to his head, before releasing a long-held breath. He dives into his bed, grabs for a pillow, buries his face in it, and silently screams at the universe for being so unfair.

He tries to sleep. Tries to get his heart to beat at a more bearable pace. A few feet away from him, he hears Sakusa let out a soft, sleepy sigh.

There's a few things about his neighbour that Atsumu learns that night, although he's not sure if he's better off not knowing, or what exactly he should do with such information.

The first thing he notices about Sakusa is that he needs to hug something to fall asleep no matter how tired he is, even going as far as to shake Atsumu awake for another pillow after a whole 20 minutes later.

The second thing is that Sakusa snores. It's quiet though, barely there, but still audible enough for Atsumu to find it much harder to drift back to sleep now than before.

The third thing is that Sakusa's an early riser. Because by the time Atsumu wakes up again a few hours later at 7 o'clock sharp, Sakusa's already gone.

///

"I think it's destiny," Suna is telling him, once Atsumu had recounted last night's events to both him and Osamu. They're at Suna's place again, it's a nice Saturday evening, and Atsumu can already feel the tiny headache that's about to occur when Suna finishes that train of thought. "Trust me. Somewhere down the road, you'll fall in love, get butterflies in your stomach, and feel your heart flutter helplessly at the mere thought of him. It’ll be this whole tingly feeling. I mean, come on, you let the guy crash in your room, for fucks sake. I'm already calling it."

"Stop projecting yer weird fantasies onto me," Atsumu rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue. "Besides, I really, absolutely, don't like him. He's an asshole." He pauses, before saying, "There's something about him that pisses me off."

Osamu smirks, looking up from his phone. "Ya sure it isn't just, I don't know, some unresolved sexual tension?"

"Disgusting," Atsumu groans, kicking his brother with his foot. "Y'all jump to the most insane conclusions. I need to find new friends to hang out with."

"You’re not fully denying it, though?" Osamu says with a lopsided grin, prodding at his side. Atsumu really does try to put violence aside now that he's in college, and he and Osamu haven't had a major fight in months, but now he fights back the urge to knock him right on the head.

"I don't like him," he insists. "Have you even seen the guy? He's got the personality of a cabbage!"

"I don’t know, ‘Tsumu, cabbages seem way more interesting than you are," Osamu retorts, and Suna nearly chokes on his drink from trying not to snort.

"Okay, okay, both of you shut up and listen," he interrupts, once he's recovered from his coughing fit. Turning to Atsumu, he says with an intent stare, "Sakusa really isn't this jerk you think of him to be, Atsumu. I know I've said it before, but he really, legitimately is a nice person."

Atsumu's lips draw into a thin line. "Then why's he always acting like such a dick when I'm around?"

Shrugging, Suna says, "That's probably on you." And then, with a glint in his eye, he adds, "But seriously though. You should talk to the guy sometime. And by talk, I mean sitting down with him over a hot cup of coffee and having a long, nice chat over where it all went wrong with the both of you, and not just hurling insults at each other's faces."  

There's that certain downward pull on the corners of Atsumu's lips when he hears that, partly because it's ridiculous for Suna to say anything even remotely serious when there's droplets of cola dripping down his chin, and partly because he refuses to take anything Suna says seriously when the other boy is draped over the loveseat in just his boxers. A fist gently nudges at his shoulder. "I'm serious. I mean, Osamu and I didn't always get along like we do now. We've had some arguments too."

"Of course," Atsumu drones. "I know full well how great you and 'Samu get along." Osamu turns a little red at that, and Suna swings a pillow at Atsumu's face.

"Fine then," he says with a childish huff, folding his arms over his chest. "But if you find yourself trapped in feelings and all that, then that's entirely your fault."

Atsumu shakes his head, but it's more fond than exasperated and he's sure Suna knows it too. "Don't worry," he says, a slight curve to his lips. "I won't."

///

It's on a Tuesday morning when everything goes very wrong, very fast.

He's in the library, working on that biophysics presentation last-minute, when he feels the chair beside him creak, an awfully familiar gray backpack sliding down the seat.

Two empty seats to his left. Three on his right. Six across from him. Atsumu doesn't like where this is going.

He makes a point not to look up, refusing to acknowledge the presence hunching over him a mere couple of centimetres away. He knows that if he does look up, he'll only be greeted with the sight of those godforsaken pretty dark eyes and those twin moles that only continue to torment his thoughts with each passing day.

Atsumu thinks he's doing a pretty good job for about twenty seconds when he hears Sakusa heave out a light sigh, the other boy stubbornly plopping down beside him.

"Hi," he starts, raising his hand in a small wave. His voice is a little muffled. Atsumu guesses he's wearing a mask again, but he keeps his eyes trained on his laptop. Another sigh escapes Sakusa's lips, and he scoots closer until he's suddenly too close and Atsumu has to remind himself to breathe.

Sakusa tries again, annoyingly persistent. "Are you free later? For lunch, maybe?"

There's an edge of something in his tone, and this time Atsumu does avert his gaze to Sakusa beside him, albeit a bit warily. "Yer acting weird," he finally says. He tries not to glare, but there's no denying the slight lowering of his eyes when the question leaves Sakusa's lips. "You've got a fever or something?"

"I- What?" Sakusa shakes his head. His curls bounce with the movement, and Atsumu hates how endearing it looks. "No, I just… " He drifts off, and Atsumu can just feel him pouting under his mask, before continuing, "I just wanted to thank you. For the other night. And, uh-" He swallows thickly this time, and Atsumu tries not to stare, "-I wanted to apologize."

Atsumu shuts his eyes. Takes a deep breath. He could swear he feels something wet trickling out his ear. Maybe it's his brain leaking from trying to piece everything together.

Fluttering his eyes back open, he trails his gaze upwards to see Sakusa staring at him. Atsumu purses his lips. "Can't ya just do it here?"

His words must have come out harsher than he wanted it to, because Sakusa winces slightly, and Atsumu absolutely cannot help the stab of guilt that punches at his stomach. Loosening the tension in his shoulders, he quickly adds, "I mean, won't it be easier to just get it over with?"

"I know, but-" Sakusa hesitates, and then makes this weird gesture with both hands that's absolutely incomprehensible to Atsumu's eyes. "Just… do you have any plans later?"

Frankly, Atsumu's schedule is utterly empty to the point where it's almost pathetic, but he can't have Sakusa knowing that, so he pretends to think for a few seconds. Once he's certain sufficient time has passed, he says, although a bit dubiously, "No, I guess I don't."

Sakusa brightens the tiniest bit at this, and Atsumu wonders if it's straining him. "Join me for lunch then?" he asks. "My treat."

Atsumu crosses his arms, his suspicions only increasing at Sakusa's words. It's way too stiff, too scripted, too fake. He leans back on his chair, as if to escape Sakusa's unusual eagerness.

"What's the catch?" he asks outright, arms in a defensive cage around him. A strangled whine slips from Sakusa's lips.

"There's no catch," he promises. "Really."

Atsumu taps his foot idly against the marble floor, looking from Sakusa to his laptop, then at Sakusa again. And then, hesitantly, he says, "Okay."

The way Sakusa's eyes seem to light up at that is absolutely stupid and by no means does Atsumu feel his stupid little heart flutter. He really doesn't want to think of what that could possibly mean for him.

"Okay," Sakusa repeats, already getting up. Atsumu wants to know if he's smiling beneath that mask. This is bad. "Where do you want to go?"

Atsumu feigns thinking at the question, when really there's a certain blueberry cheesecake that he's been literally dreaming to taste again for days on end now, so he says after little thought, "The café you work at."

Sakusa's expression turns wary. "Seriously?" he asks. "I just got back from my early morning shift, and now I have to go there again?"

"Yes seriously," Atsumu deadpans, shutting off his laptop and cramming it in his bag. So much for that biophysics presentation. He lifts his gaze back up to meet the other's eyes, lifting a defiant brow. "Unless it's too much for ya?"

"No, no," Sakusa assures, too quickly. "It's not too much." He picks up his bag then, gesturing towards the exit, "Let's go?"

They arrive at the café in record time, mostly because Atsumu quite literally strides to get there as quickly as possible. One reason for this is because, obviously, the cake. The second, more vexing reason however, is because Sakusa's eyes have been sparkling ever since they left the library, and it's enough for Atsumu's heart to be doing all these frustrating jumping jacks in his chest.

It's alarming, to say the least.

And, it's also enough to leave him anxious in a way that gets him walking briskly against the sidewalk in a fruitless attempt to somehow slip away from Sakusa. Which turns out to be a terrible idea, Atsumu notes, because not only is Sakusa ridiculously taller than him, but his legs are stupidly long.

Atsumu nearly uses up all his willpower trying not to stare at the way Sakusa's thighs look in those jeans.

They don't talk much on the way there. Naturally. So Atsumu's left with his thoughts, wondering what on earth this thing he's got with Sakusa is called. They're not enemies, because that's way too childish and Atsumu is an adult. But it's not a grudge either, or a rivalry. It's more like a prickling, unnerving disturbance. It makes his palms sweat.

So he's here now, wiping his hands against the fabric of his pants inconspicuously, praying Sakusa wouldn't notice from where he's sitting across from him. They've already ordered — that glorious blueberry cheesecake for Atsumu and a strawberry one for Sakusa. Atsumu was naive enough to think things are going smoother than he expected it to, only for a swirling cloud of nervous tension to descend in their midst the second their server leaves the table.

"So… " Sakusa starts in a horrible effort to begin a conversation. His mask is gone, and Atsumu positivity does not stare at how pink his lips are. He thinks he might go insane. "How are you?"

Fucking excellent, you asshole. Atsumu would glare if he wanted to, if he could, but for some strange reason, he finds himself biting back the words. He doesn't mean it as much anymore.

He must have been quiet for far too long, because Sakusa releases a slight exhale. 

"Sorry," he says, glancing up with an almost-there smile. This is weird. Very weird. His voice doesn’t sound quite like Atsumu is used to it sounding, and it gives him the feeling he really doesn’t want to know why. "I kinda forced you into this, didn't I?"

Atsumu tries to be the bigger person here. "It's… alright, I guess. I wouldn't say yes if I didn't mean it. Christ, what kind of person do ya think I am?"

He meant it as a joke more than anything, but Sakusa throws him a coy grin. "An ass," he says easily, and, ah, there it is. That's more like the tone Atsumu's gotten so used to hearing. But Sakusa says it too fast, and something about that digs right into Atsumu's gut.

There's another round of uncomfortable silence after that. It's frustrating, because usually Atsumu would have a retort ready at the tip of his tongue, but he seems to be swallowing back all his words today. 

He can feel Sakusa watching him. Clearly Sakusa doesn't know what being discreet is like. So Atsumu lets his gaze wander around the café a bit, at the gleaming chandeliers and the pastel pictures printed on the walls, until finally, his eyes land on another waiter not far off from his seat. He feels Sakusa follow.

The boy looks familiar, but Atsumu can't quite put his finger on it. He's pretty too, eyes kind and smile gentle as he notes down orders.

He can almost hear the way Sakusa smirks. "That's Kita-san," he tells him. "He's off-limits, by the way. Already dating another one of my coworkers, Aran, so don't even think about it." 

By some miracle or two, Atsumu suppresses the need to scoff. "I wasn't planning anything of that sort, dickass. I was just thinking-" he waves a hand at Kita's general direction, pointedly staring at Sakusa, "-that's how ya treat your customers. You don't go around threatening them and saying you'll kick their asses out."

Sakusa rolls his eyes, although, weirdly enough, there's barely any malice in the action. "That was just you. And plus, I've got ninety-six percent customer satisfaction, remember?"

Atsumu, in fact, would rather not remember. He crosses his arms indignantly. "Yeah, well, that's just because you're hot."

The world freezes.

Oh no. Oh fuck. He did not just say that.

Everything is silent for a heartbeat, as if the universe is kindly putting itself on hold to give Atsumu a moment to fully contemplate exactly how much he just messed up.

Why did he say that? He certainly didn't mean to say it. Things start moving again, but excruciatingly slowly, and Atsumu reluctantly looks up to meet Sakusa's stare.

He's staring back at him with glinting eyes and a lopsided grin. "So you do think I'm hot," he says, matter-of-factly. He leans forward, and Atsumu suppresses a squeak. 

This is so embarrassing. Atsumu thinks he might pass out. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out, and Sakusa's eyes are still on him with that same flustering smile. Atsumu wants to wipe it off his face. He tries again.

"I don't- Yer not-" He takes in a breath. "That was a slip of my tongue. Not my finest moment, I admit."

"You have a finest moment?" Sakusa taunts lightly. He leans back on his chair. "Didn't think that was possible with you. I'd love to see it someday."

Before Atsumu can say something else and possibly embarrass himself further, Kita swoops in at that exact moment like some angel or another, carefully placing their tray of orders on the table. He glances between the two of them, at Atsumu’s flushed cheeks and Sakusa’s teasing gaze, like their reactions are some sort of intense tennis match. Kita smiles.

"Well," he starts pleasantly, clasping his hands together. He winks at Sakusa, who only rolls his eyes at the gesture. "Looks like Aran and I won't have to set you up on any more blind dates, Kiyoomi." Leaning closer, away from Atsumu, he says in a voice too loud to be considered a whisper, "Keep this one. He's awfully attractive."

Atsumu’s jaw leaves a dent on the tabletop.

But Sakusa looks unperturbed, instead letting out a light laugh that shoots right through Atsumu’s gut. “He is, isn’t he?” Sakusa comments, and Kita nods his head, as if Atsumu isn’t even there in the first place. Sakusa hums. “He looks better with his mouth shut, though. You should see him when he sleeps. I didn’t realize how much drool can possibly come out of a person’s mouth until he let me sleep over at his place.”

“I’m literally right here!” Atsumu protests, the heat coming back to his cheeks in full force. This is too much. All he wanted was that blueberry cheesecake, Jesus Christ. But all Sakusa does is glance at him with a leveled stare.

“Yes, we see that. Anyways,” Sakusa turns back to Kita, who’s watching the whole thing unfold with barely-concealed amusement shining in his eyes. “Thanks for the food, Kita-san. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

"Of course," Kita says, clearing his throat. Turning to Atsumu to offer him one last smile, Kita adds, "It's nice seeing you again, Atsumu. We've heard a lot about you."

Atsumu feels absolutely mortified. What’s that supposed to mean? Has Sakusa been talking shit behind his back?

He bites at his lip. And then, demands more than asks, "What just happened? Actually-” he holds up a finger, in a tone that aims for casual and misses by a thousand or so miles. Hopefully Sakusa doesn’t notice. “-I'm starting to think all this was just some creepy way of asking me out."

Sakusa blinks up at him, before that maddening upward tilt of his lips makes another appearance. “Says the one who thinks I’m hot. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you ogling me the last time we were here.”

Okay, now that's just unfair. Atsumu feels himself splutter unattractively. "That wasn't- I told ya, my tongue slipped!"

"Sure it did," Sakusa scoffs, and Atsumu wants to faceplant himself on his cake.

Things turn normal after that, or as normal as it can be with Atsumu not-so-discreetly ducking his head at certain times whenever Sakusa lets out a tiny, sinful noise each time he takes a bite of his cake and KIta occasionally passing by to throw them a knowing glance here and there. Atsumu wonders how much free time the guy has.

When they're done, it's strange. It's strange how Sakusa grins at him from under his mask in a way that doesn't get Atsumu’s blood vessels bursting. It's strange how Sakusa offers to walk home together, and Atsumu doesn't decline. It's strange how his heart suddenly wants to turn into Suna with the way it's twisting frantically in his chest every time their fingers brush together.

And, it's most definitely strange how they manage to hold several conversations for a good twenty minutes without wanting to come for each other's throats.

(It could have been just ten minutes, but for some unknown reason, whether intentional or not, Sakusa chose to take the long way home. Atsumu decides not to point it out.)

There's another couple of things that he learns about his neighbour that day. Like how Sakusa is fond of dogs, nearly stopping every time he sees one and crouching down to pet it, and how he'd often stop to feed the stray cats around their neighbourhood.  

("What the-" Atsumu had asked, watching in disbelief as Sakusa reached for his bag and magically pulled out a can of cat food like it was nothing. "You just carry cat food with ya everywhere you go?"

"Yes?" Sakusa stared at him. "Don't you?")

He also learns that Sakusa’s favourite color is blue, like the way the sky looks right now, and how he'd been itching to get a new laptop to download professional volleyball matches since his current one is nearly out of storage. Atsumu’s mouth flew open at the sound of that, and they'd immediately launched into a conversation about their favourite teams and favourite positions that he never really had with Osamu and Suna.

And lastly, Atsumu learns that, well, maybe Sakusa isn't as awful as he thought.

(He's still a jerk though. That's what Atsumu tells himself as gets into bed that night, tossing and turning for far too long.)

///

Something isn't right here. Atsumu notices it the moment he steps into the cafeteria.

Osamu and Suna aren't at their usual table. He scans the crowd, until his eyes land on-

Fuck.

Those two scheming assholes are seated on the far corner of the room along with Bokuto and three other people, one of them who Atsumu knows things about more than he wants to.

He's just about to turn on his heel and have his lunch in some dingy bathroom stall instead when Suna’s head turns and spots him just standing there in the middle, lunch tray in his hands as he screams obscenities at his friends for betraying him so brutally like this.

Suna waves him over. Atsumu wants to die.

Grudgingly, he drags himself to the table, avoiding eye contact with everyone who isn't his brother and Suna. He shoots a glare at the two. They simply offer him matching grins in return, and Atsumu briefly mourns, not for the first time, for not being an only child.

"We're gonna be sitting with them from now on, ‘Tsumu," Osamu starts sweetly, and Suna nods. Suddenly, Atsumu isn't as hungry anymore.

He tries to conjure up his most pained look, which isn't hard considering the circumstances, silently pleading at the two like why would you do this to me, what the fuck, I thought we were friends. As if planned, both Suna and Osamu ignore him.

“Hey, ‘Tsumu!” Bokuto greets, the only person Atsumu can’t bring himself to get mad at. He watches as Bokuto stands, hoisting his bag up and patting him on the shoulder. “I was actually just about to leave – something about Kuroo accidentally locking himself out of our dorm – but Osamu-san said you guys are gonna start sitting here from now on! I’m so glad you finally get to meet Keiji.” He plants a quick kiss on his boyfriend's cheek, and Akaashi blushes at the gesture. The brown-haired boy beside him mimes gagging into Sakusa's shoulder, only to earn a condescending slap from Sakusa himself.

Atsumu waves a bit dazedly as Bokuto leaves for the doors. Akaashi watches him go with affection clear on his face, before he faces Atsumu and gives a little nod, lips lifting into a polite smile.

“Hi, Miya-san,” he says, and Atsumu tries his best to smile back. Judging from the snort he hears from Sakusa, he isn't doing a very good job at it.

Speaking of Sakusa…  

Atsumu somehow feels himself pale and redden at the same time. He hasn't forgotten about their little… date, for lack of better word, the other day. Which is downright torturous, because the three days he spends trying to prepare for his biophysics presentation turns into three days of outrageously thinking back to the pretty way Sakusa smiles when a dog leans into his touch, or the way his tongue had peeked out from between his lips to lick at a few crumbs of cake at the corner of his mouth, to the point where Atsumu doesn’t even realize time is still passing.  Things are not looking up in regards to that presentation.

Objectively speaking, completely objectively, Sakusa is very attractive. Atsumu’s not blind. He, although reluctantly, can admit that. Especially now that he's seen a side of the guy that isn't just plain asshole.

Suna shakes him out of his thoughts. “And this is Komori,” he’s saying, gesturing to the guy with brown hair that Atsumu’s seen sitting with Sakusa the other week.

“Hi!” The guy - Komori - grins cheerfully. “Thanks, by the way, for letting Kiyoomi sleep over at your place that one time. Kinda surprised he didn’t just call me, but whatever.”

“Your place is even worse than the dumpster downstairs, Motoya,” Sakusa interrupts, huffing a sigh. “I’m not sleeping in a pigsty.”

“Oh?" Komori wiggles his eyebrows. They look like worms. Atsumu has no idea how he does that. “And has Atsumu here passed your standards of cleanliness?”

Sakusa finally looks at him, giving him a hard onceover that makes Atsumu want to squirm in his seat, before shrugging nonchalantly. “I’m pretty sure it’s Osamu-san doing all the cleaning. Miya probably just lies in bed all day blasting his playlists. Maybe that’s why he’s always late to his classes.”

Osamu erupts into a loud fit of laughter at that, Suna snorting beside him and Akaashi giggling softly. Atsumu actually doesn't hesitate to smack his brother upside the head this time.

He glares at Sakusa, pointing an accusing finger at him and deliberately ignoring that last comment. "How come you call 'Samu by his first name but I'm still stuck with 'Miya'? We've known each other longer too!"

"Okay," Sakusa drawls, idly playing with his chopsticks and looking up at him. "Would you rather I call you by your first name too? Atsumu?"

Oh.

It's just his name. Atsumu, logically, knows that. He's been called worse too. And yet the way Sakusa rolls the word on his tongue and says it in that kind of tone makes all the blood rush to his face and his heart stammer in the confines of his chest.

Sakusa must notice too, because he hides a smirk behind his fingers as he continues eating his lunch, like he didn't just send Atsumu on a mini meltdown on the spot. Osamu's snickering now, whispering something to Suna that Atsumu really doesn't want to know, and Komori lets out an exasperatedly fond sigh.

"Alright, that's enough flirting, you two," he cuts in. "We've had enough of that with Bokuto-san and Keiji-kun, not to mention Osamu and Suna here have been blatantly undressing each other with their eyes the moment we sat down. I'd rather not be a seventh wheel to all you bitches, thank you very much."

Akaashi lets out a surprised laugh at that, a pretty sound that Atsumu would have paid more attention to if he wasn't still trying to calm his fucking heart down, and he watches as Suna leans forward, shooting a wink at Komori. "Who says you can't join in on me and 'Samu?'

"Oh. Well, then," Komori replies with a grin and an easy lilt to his voice, and Atsumu questions when they got so close. "Who am I to say no to such a tempting offer?"

"Ew," Sakusa immediately grimaces, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "Don't be crude, Motoya. Especially not when we're eating."

"Hey, you're the one who started flirting with Atsumu first!"

"I did no such thing." Sakusa pushes his plate away then, rolling out his shoulders and looking Atsumu dead in the eye. "Plus, why would I want to flirt with someone with the emotional intelligence of a brick wall? It's like the lights are on but no one's up there in that thick skull of his."

Osamu promptly chokes on his drink. Atsumu hears himself let out an indignant squawk, before he throws his arms up in the air and tries not to think about how hot his face feels. "That's it. That was my last straw. I'll just go find myself some new friends and finish my food somewhere else. I knew it was a bad idea sittin' here. 'Samu-" he turns to his brother with a scowl, who now has Suna patting his back as he tries to stop his snorting, "-you go home with Sunarin later. I don't want to see yer face any longer than I should."

"They have the same face though?" Akaashi softly mumbles to himself, the same time Osamu rolls his eyes and drags Atsumu back down from where he's standing over them. "Stop bein' dramatic, dumbass." Turning to the other three across from them, he adds, "I apologize for my brother."

Komori shakes his head. "No, no, I apologize for my cousin too," he says, and Atsumu nearly gets whiplash from how fast he turns his head.

"Y'all are cousins?" he asks, pointing at the two. Sakusa levels him with an unimpressed look. Suna heaves out a heavy sigh.

"This is old news, 'Tsumu, geez, keep up!" he says, and Atsumu reminds himself to count to three. Osamu probably wouldn't be too pleased if he beheaded his boyfriend right there and then.

Akaashi must sense how dizzy Atsumu feels from this entire conversation, half of it feeling like some sort of fever dream, because he offers him a sympathetic smile, shrugging his shoulders in resignation.

Slumping back down on his seat, Atsumu picks up his chopsticks again, albeit a bit reluctantly. He still has 10 minutes before his next class starts, might as well make the most of it, is what he tells himself.

During a lull in the conversation, Komori reaches over and nudges Sakusa's arm. They stare at each other, with Sakusa's stupidly endearing pout becoming clearer with each passing second. Atsumu's chewing slows. They're scheming something. He can feel it in his bones. This must be a trap.

Suna's hand latches around Atsumu's free wrist. Definitely a trap. He's saying something, yet the words seem to fly past Atsumu's ears.

He tries to bring his focus back to the situation at hand. "Sorry, what was that?' he asks. From beside him, Osamu lets out a long-suffering sigh.

"I was just saying-" Suna repeats slowly. There's a wicked gleam in his eye. Atsumu already regrets staying. He should have left when he had the chance. "That Sakusa wants to tell you something."

Sakusa lifts his head with a quiet sigh, like he’s being forced in on this. Knowing how devious Suna and Osamu can be, Atsumu knows it’s a high possibility,  He looks Atsumu dead in the eye. They’re sitting right across from each other and he watches as Sakusa wavers, gaze flitting down just as quick as he purses his lips.

Another gentle shove from Komori. Sakusa huffs. He mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like an I can’t believe I got dragged into this, before clearing his throat and saying, “Do you want to like, hang out sometime?”

“Hang out,” Atsumu repeats blankly. He looks back to Suna, then at Osamu, who's nodding at him to accept the damn offer. Are they in on this? Actually, scratch that, Atsumu always knew better than to trust those two. “What does that mean, hang out? Hang out how?”

“Like hanging out, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu says, matter-of-factly, like he’s trying to convey how slow Atsumu is being right now.

“I bought two tickets to go see a movie this weekend with Motoya,” Sakusa explains with a shrug, “But he has plans, or so he says.”

“I do have plans!” Komori tries to defend, waving his arms and nearly hitting Akaashi in the face. “Really didn’t mean to flake out on you, Kiyoomi, but now you have Atsumu to go with, so doesn’t that make up for it?”

Sakusa gives his cousin a flat look, but Atsumu’s still caught up on the whole watching a movie with Sakusa Kiyoomi part.

“This sounds suspiciously like a date.” He narrows his eyes. “Is this yer set-up to get away with murdering me?”

Surprisingly, Sakusa actually lets out a laugh at that. Atsumu has to wave away the sight of the infuriatingly pretty curve of his lips. “Christ, Miya, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I can always ask someone else, like Kita-san or Wakatoshi-kun. Or just ditch the movie altogether.”

“That’ll be a waste of money, Kiyo,” Komori tuts disapprovingly, the same time Atsumu scrunches his nose in disdain. “Wakatoshi? You mean Ushijima Wakatoshi? How do you expect to watch a movie with the guy? Once I asked him if he knew where ‘Samu was when we were at this one party, and it was like listening to a documentary.” Atsumu shudders at the memory, and then recounts what Ushijima had told him. “‘Your brother is by the balcony, I believe he was with his lover. They were eating what looked like brownies. If you don’t know where the balcony is, I’d be happy to show you.’ Why’d he have to say it like that?”

“That was a horrible impression of Wakatoshi,” Sakusa deadpans. “So, what, do you want to come or not?”

Atsumu lets out a breath, Eyeing Sakusa sceptically, he asks, “Yer paying for the food too, right? What kind of movie is it?

“Yes, I’m paying. Does it matter what kind of movie it is?”

Osamu pipes up from where he, Suna, and Akaashi have been watching the entire interaction like it’s some kind of interesting Netflix show. “‘Tsumu’s real picky with his movies, Sakusa-san. If it doesn’t catch his attention within the first 10 minutes, he’s very likely gonna drop it.”

Sakusa nods in understanding. “So you’re telling me he has the attention span of a goldfish, is that right?”

“Precisely.”

“I should have killed you in the womb, you fucker,” Atsumu hisses. “It’s called being effective. If it’s boring for the first 10 minutes, then who’s to say it won’t be boring for the rest of the movie?”

Akaashi smiles sheepishly, already packing up his things. “I hate to interrupt… whatever this conversation has been, but I have to disagree, Miya-san.”

Sakusa quirks up a smile. “See. Keiji gets it.” Glancing back at Atsumu, he asks, “So are you coming or not? I’m sure the movie I bought tickets for is good enough to hold your interest for more than just 10 minutes.”

“And,” Komori chimes in, looking like he’s been wanting to say something for a while now, “You guys could make up whatever weird tension you have right now! It would be just the two of you, and you could see the movie this weekend, and afterwards you could get something to eat and chat about it! It'd be like, a learning experience for you both."

"Learning experience, my ass," Sakusa mutters under his breath. Judging from his sudden yelp, Komori must have kicked him from under the table.

Atsumu still feels on-guard about this whole thing. He frowns, but he can't ignore the spark of excitement that goes down his spine at the idea. Because, of course, free food. And he’d like to show Sakusa he can pay attention to the stupid movie for more than 10 minutes too.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go-” he promptly ignores Komori’s excited whoop, not wanting to dwell on whatever that means, “on one condition.”

Sakusa narrows his gaze. “Which is?”

Atsumu allows himself to smile a little then, feeling way too smug. “I get to pick a movie after too. Just to show ya that I have the better taste in movies.”

He hears Osamu groan, with Suna shaking his head in exasperation. “Why does everything have to be a competition with you, Atsumu?” he asks, more rhetorical than anything, but Atsumu’s too busy paying attention to the start of a competitive gleam shining in Sakusa’s eyes.

“Sure,” he replies breezily. “What kind of movie?”

Atsumu immediately fires off. "Comedy."

"No." He sees Akaashi wince.

"Animation."

"What are you, five?"

Another yelp. Komori smiles smugly. 

"Horror."

Something in Sakusa’s expression shifts. "What kind of horror?"

“Nope, no more hints, Omi-kun,” he taunts, the nickname sweet on his tongue. Sakusa must think otherwise, because his mouth drops open in shock. From beside him, Komori and Akaashi stifle their giggles.

“Omi-kun…” Sakusa repeats under his breath, before squeezing his eyes shut, like he doesn’t even want to think about it.  He pauses in decision, and then, finally, he nods. "Alright. Horror it is then.”

The agreement hangs between them, unfamiliar and fragile, like it could shatter any moment.

They start clearing the table soon after, what with classes starting in just a couple more minutes. And then he catches Sakusa’s eye from across the table. He's giving him a look, one eyebrow raised, mouth twisted in a small, teasing smile. Atsumu feels like there’s fire in his veins with the twinkle he spots dancing deep in Sakusa’s eyes. He bites back the way his lips quirk upwards in a small, thrilled grin.

There’s newfound confidence surging through him. Before he can stop himself, he leans close towards Sakusa, and shockingly enough, Sakusa doesn’t push him away. Standing this close to the guy, Atsumu is once again hit with the clarity of just how fucking tall Sakusa is, but he shifts forward anyways, their arms bumping and feeling like an iron brand on Atsumu’s bare skin.

“Guess I’ll see ya this weekend, Omi-kun,” he says with a grin. “Don’t want you backing out now.”

///

They end up loving both movies. Like, love it. Turns out Sakusa’s choice was this action movie so intense it almost sent Atsumu into early cardiac arrest. They spend over an hour in the mall's food court afterwards too, with Sakusa raging on about how surprisingly decent the plot of the horror movie was and how the dog didn't deserve to die, and something deep in Atsumu’s heart shifts.

On the way home, they talk, and it feels nice.

"I’m surprised you didn’t piss your pants watching that," Sakusa is telling him as they walk side-by-side, taking a bite of the frozen yogurt they’d gotten just before they left the mall. "Although, I think you’ve made me go deaf in one ear with how loud you kept screaming.”

Atsumu feels a blush tint his cheeks. He hopes it’s dark enough that Sakusa doesn’t notice. “Shut up, Omi-kun,” he grumbles, though it holds no real irritation. “You were no better. Remember that scene when that ghost lady thing suddenly popped up on screen? I feel sorry for the cleaners who have to pick up after yer mess with the way yer popcorn flew everywhere.”

Sakusa laughs, a real, genuine one this time, and it’s a pretty tinkling sound that shoots itself straight through Atsumu’s core. “Hey, I’m not the one who spilled soda all over their shirt from how scared they were.” He eyes Atsumu’s shirt, one they had recently bought from a shop after the soda stains proved impossible to get rid off. “Did you see how all the staff looked at us when we went in there? I’m never letting you live that down.”

Atsumu huffs, angrily taking a bite of his own frozen yoghurt. Sakusa arches a brow at the action; his mask is gone this time, and it’s getting harder to ignore the amused, upward twitch of his lips.

Swallowing the yoghurt down, he turns to Sakusa with an expectant look. “So?” he asks. He nudges at Sakusa’s side. “My movie was way better, wasn’t it?”

“Um, no.“ Brushing a hand through his curls, Sakusa continues, “You were way more invested watching my movie compared to the horror one. You were literally on the edge of your seat, I swear your ass was about to fall off any second.”

“Okay, that’s just playing dirty,” Atsumu says disbelievingly. “Ya think I would be leaning forward when watching something that nearly scared me shitless?”

“So you do admit you were scared.” Atsumu doesn’t need to look to know there’s a teasing grin on Sakusa’s face. “Then that’s just your own fault, Miya.”

“Ugh. Fuck you. Omi.”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

What.

“What?” Atsumu asks aloud, just to make sure he’s hearing right. But all Sakusa does is shoot him a wink, and fucking hell, Atsumu thinks he might faint.

The look on his face must be even worse than he thought, because Sakusa laughs again, and the sound is sweet and loud and Atsumu wonders what he should do to keep hearing it. “I’m kidding, Miya.”

“Yeah.” Atsumu’s voice cracks at the word, and he flushes again, before clearing his throat and trying once more. “I, uh, I knew that. Obviously.”

Sakusa must have chosen to take pity on him, because he takes another bite of his yoghurt and says, swiftly changing the topic, “You know, your brother and Suna seem pretty cool. Though I feel like Suna would dox me on Twitter if I made him mad.”

Snorting in a way that must have been very unflattering, Atsumu nods enthusiastically. “Oh, tell me about it. The guy has a whole collection of my pictures, which would have been fine since I'm so hot and all if they weren’t all so embarrassing. I don’t even know where he got half of it from!” Sakusa opens his mouth, but Atsumu cuts him off. “And, no, I would rather walk out onto this street than show ya anything from that stupid collection. Don’t even think about it, Omi-kun.”

“Hm.” There’s a glint in Sakusa’s eye. “You think I could bribe Suna into showing me then? I have a few pictures of Komori I could use in exchange.”

Atsumu stares at him, before glancing away and looking straight ahead. “You’re a menace, Omi.”

“Says you.”

“Says the one who nearly caused a scene in the food court back there just because they put pickles on my burger.” Atsumu shoots back, though the memory of it still leaves him the tiniest bit flustered.  “I told ya I was perfectly content with eating the pickles.”

“But you didn’t ask for it,” Sakusa points out. Dumping his now empty yoghurt cup in a nearby trash can, he says, “Plus, I didn’t mind.”

“I’m sure the workers did, though.”

“Then they shouldn’t have put pickles in your burger.”

“Smartass,” Atsumu quips, and Sakusa throws him a smirk. 

“You know,” Atsumu starts again, after a few seconds of easy silence. From the corner of his eye, he sees Sakusa glance at him, waiting for him to say more. “Yer cousin is pretty cool, except we should probably keep him and Sunarin far, far away from each other.”

Fighting back a grin, Sakusa pretends to sigh. “I think it’s too late for that, Miya. Just this morning, when I was on call with Motoya, he ditched me to text Osamu-san and Suna. I fear what happens when those three are in the same room.”

“Then I guess we should join forces then, huh, Omi?” Atsumu teases, and it’s more of a joke than anything, but Sakusa nods solemnly.

“Of course. There’s no way I’m letting Motoya one-up me.”

Atsumu laughs, and he manages to catch the smile that threatens to peek through Sakusa’s face, before Sakusa’s expression crumples and he lets out a bored sigh.

“Speaking of Motoya, I just remembered something,” he says, and, oh, he’s pouting again. This can’t be good for Atsumu’s heart. Maybe he will go into early cardiac arrest. “He’s forcing me to go to one of our friend's parties tomorrow.  I wish he’d stop dragging me to all these places. I always end up on some dark corner hoping he would sober up so we can go home already. I swear, I have half the mind to just drive myself back to my flat and leave him passed out in a ditch.”

“That’s mean, Omi,” Atsumu chides, but he’s grinning and so is Sakusa and this moment just feels right, just the two of them, like this. Before he can indulge in that thought any further for fear of what it may mean, he asks, “You don’t like parties?”

Sakusa shakes his head, a light huff escaping him. "I'm not like Motoya or anything. Hanging out with people I barely know, well… let's just say I have better things to do than that."

Atsumu glances back at him. "But yer hanging out with me though, and you barely know me."

Sakusa seems to pause dead in his tracks at that, before walking again like nothing happened. And yet, Atsumu could swear he could make out the faintest blush on Sakusa’s cheeks, only made clear from the streetlights shining above them.

"Yeah, well,” Sakusa shoves his hands into his pockets, “you're not exactly a stranger either. I mean, I've slept in your room. Hell, I've even seen you in just a towel that one time."

And Atsumu really doesn't know what comes over him then, but he finds himself grinning uncontrollably, prodding at Sakusa’s shoulder. "Ya still remember that?" he asks teasingly, mouth moving in it's own accord as his mind begs him to stop humiliating himself. "Well, of course, you'd still remember it. I haven't forgotten the way you've ogled my naked chest and-"

He stops when Sakusa rolls his eyes and picks up his pace, but that doesn’t stop Atsumu from jogging after him.

"I'm right, aren't I?" he says, bursting into laughter when Sakusa ignores him. He stumbles a bit, clutching at his stomach from the look on Sakusa’s face, before he realizes Sakusa’s stopped walking. Trying his best to shut out his giggles, he straightens his back, only to find Sakusa staring right at him with an unreadable smile painting his face.

“I- What?” Atsumu asks, chuckling nervously. “Oh no. I didn’t make ya mad, did I? Stop smiling at me like that, Omi, I feel like you’re about to stuff my body into that dumpster behind you.”

That seems to startle Sakusa, before he tilts his head in confusion. He breathes out a laugh. “Why do you always have such violent thoughts, Miya?”

Sheepishly, Atsumu grins. “Don’t know, Omi. I feel like anything’s possible with you. But, hey,” he pokes at Sakusa’s arm. “You didn’t deny not staring at my chest.”

That earns a groan from Sakusa, who lightly shoves him away. “Let it go already, Miya. Let’s just get back home already.”

Atsumu, through smiling eyes, can see that the other's cheeks have flared up into that lovely pink hue, his eyes gleam with accusation, but there's a sparkle of fond exasperation as well. It's a bit startling, how fitting the look is on him, how unfairly pretty Sakusa looks right now, even when-

Oh shit.

His giggling stops abruptly, falling to the pavement and slinking away. “What is it?” Sakusa asks, less demanding, more confused.

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing. I just had a thought."

Sakusa snorts, the flush dying down. "Well isn't that new."

His brain — which seems to have crashed and burned somewhere between Sakusa and pretty — only manages out a slow, tentative grin.

Sakusa doesn't seem affected by this at all, going on with the conversation like nothing happened. He starts talking about this collegiate volleyball of some other school he's seen recently. and Atsumu nods absently, offering thoughtful hums every few sentences while his eyes remain fixated on Sakusa’s animated expressions and wild hand motions that go up and down and left and right. It’s mesmerizing. And, it’s nice seeing Sakusa like this, Atsumu thinks. A slight smile dons his lips as he talks, and as small as it is, it somehow manages to brighten up his whole face even more. That is, until Sakusa trips on a crack on the sidewalk and would have high-fived the pavement with his face if Atsumu didn't react the way he did, catching him by the waist.

"Careful," he mutters. He hopes he isn't blushing. "Just how bad is your eyesight?"

Sakusa makes a point to look away, clearing his throat as Atsumu brings his arms back to his side. 

"I’m wearing contacts," he grumbles, and it’s so cute Atsumu feels his heart nearly stop. Strangely enough, Sakusa’s ears have turned red, and Atsumu counts this as a silent win. A win against what, he isn't too sure. "I don't want to hear this from a guy with the personality of sewage water."

"I- What does that have to do with anythin'?"

"Everything."

"Why do I have the feeling ya don't really mean it?"

"Then you must be blinder than I am, because you're dead wrong." And then, in a softer voice, "Dumbass."

Atsumu rolls his eyes. "Well, at least I wasn’t the one who threw a fit while studying for some accounting test yesterday because, and I quote, 'What the fuck does this even mean, holy shit, why do I even need to learn this? Corporate finance can suck my goddamn dick.'" He flashes Sakusa a sweet  smile, who looks utterly horrified for once, his eyebrows shooting to stratospheric levels in shock. "End quote."

Sakusa stares at him, eyes wide as his mouth tries to form actual words. Fumbling with the sleeves of his sweater, he says, "You heard all that?"

Atsumu winks, and Sakusa groans into his hands. "Thin walls, remember?"

"I hate you," 

"My pleasure." 

They continue like this for a while, maneuvering through detours in hopes of delaying their arrival home, ping-ponging from half-hearted insults to topics like their favourite dramas to the superior ice cream flavour.

When they finally reach their flats, once they've run out of roads to walk on, Sakusa agrees that next weekend, they can give the animation movie a shot.

Atsumu’s unable to sleep that night.

///

"You and Sakusa seem to be getting along well."

Suna’s whispered voice succeeds in tearing Atsumu’s gaze from Sakusa (who’s smiling and jutting down orders and looking oh-so-attractive) for a few moments. “Hm? Oh, yeah, well, we've finally gotten to talking normally after that movie trip thing."

Their little group of six — along with Osamu, Bokuto, Akaashi, and Komori — are seated around a booth in the far corner of the café, waiting for Sakusa’s lunch break to finally start. Osamu and Komori are talking in animated tones, with Akaashi throwing in some side comments here and there like something is terribly wrong with the both of you and the occasional fond idiots. Bokuto seems happy enough to be leaning into Akaashi’s side as he sips the last remains of his coffee. They've all gotten used to hanging out together now, the past few days spent eating cafeteria meals together and lazing around in each other's houses. It was almost strange, how easily they got along just like that, but Atsumu won't complain.

From beside him, he sees Suna roll his eyes. "It's perfectly fine to call it a date, ‘Tsumu. Trip doesn't make it sound as romantic."

"It's not supposed to be romantic!"

Suna shoots him a dubious look. "Whatever you say. But from what you told me and ‘Samu, your little trip sounded awfully romantic."

Atsumu pauses. And then, "I probably shouldn't have told y’all any of that, huh?"

Suna nods, slowly patting his back in what Atsumu guesses is some form of consolation, before shushing him and waving over to Sakusa. He's changed now, in a black turtleneck and jeans, and the tiniest of smiles light up his face when he spots them.

Shit, he’s so cute, Atsumu laughs to himself, before coming to his senses. No, annoying.

He looks at those two perfectly aligned moles and curls he’d kill to thread his fingers through and thinks, okay, maybe both.

Sakusa easily slides over on the seat beside him, immediately listening in on the conversation happening around them. Atsumu tries to listen too, but Sakusa is so close, his thighs pressed up against his. He could almost smell the faint scent of Sakusa’s cologne— a scent that goes straight through him, waking up parts of him that are better left sleeping.

The whole time, Atsumu tries to convince himself that whatever Suna was implying earlier is most definitely wrong. Just because he looks at Sakusa sometimes and finds him looking breathtakingly pretty under the sunlight does not mean that he’s falling for the asshole. Just because his heart spins and dances when Sakusa offers him one of those small, secret smiles in his general direction, or because he spends most of his classes nowadays thinking back to how Sakusa’s eyes glimmer with laughter when Osamu and Suna take turns tormenting Atsumu doesn’t, shouldn’t mean anything.

Fuck.

///

“Hey, Suna, you don’t mind us crashing over at your place, right?” Komori asks out loud one Thursday evening, their little friend group having met up outside the café once Sakusa’s shift had ended. Specifically, the Thursday two days before Sakusa’s birthday. Atsumu nearly spent the entire morning trying to convince himself he wasn’t nervous, because that would be ridiculous.

Suna nods, and to Atsumu’s surprise, everyone agrees to the idea immediately (even Akaashi, who seems to regret his decision right when Bokuto starts letting out loud whoops of joy in the middle of the street). And thanks to the convenience store just two blocks down and Sakusa being way richer than all of them combined, they manage to scavenge together enough food and drinks for it to be somewhat a decent celebration.

(“Why am I paying?” Sakusa had protested, that signature pout on his face. Atsumu figures he should be immune to it by now, but all it does is send his heart free-falling in his chest. “Isn’t this my birthday we’re celebrating?

“Yeah, but we’re paying you back with our amazing company,” Komori laughed. “Come on, Kiyo, look at us. You think someone like Atsumu - who would probably inhale instant ramen for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if Osamu wasn’t there with him - could pay for all this?”)

They hurl through Suna’s front door with way too much energy and enthusiasm for seven overworked, sleep-deprived college students, with Atsumu going in last and placing all their snacks on the table. He joins the others soon after, the rest of them having already situated themselves in the living room. Suna seems to be showing Komori the pictures he's got of the three of them displayed on his shelves, recounting stories like this right here was taken right after Atsumu fell into a puddle of mud and this was when the three of us decided it was a great idea to play in the rain back in high school, only for us to be caught with a fever the very next day and missing volleyball practice because of it— you won't believe how mad all our parents got and the infamous this masterpiece of a photo set was taken that beautiful time Atsumu sneezed into Osamu’s hair. Atsumu finds himself hoping Sakusa hadn't heard any of that.

Sakusa himself was hunched over with Akaashi, the both of them scrolling through Suna’s Netflix account, both of them quietly debating on a series to watch. Bokuto and Osamu hang back, draped over the couch as Bokuto shows Osamu what seems to be a video on his phone.

Soon enough, Sakusa hobbles over to the table where their mountain of snacks had been deposited, plopping down and ripping open a bag of pretzels. Atsumu finds himself walking after him, with Sakusa nearly dropping his pretzel when he sits down beside him.

"Want one?" Sakusa offers, despite there being at least three other bags of pretzels on the table. Still, Atsumu feels himself nod, reaching over towards the offering hand.

Time pauses for a second when their skin touches. Sakusa doesn’t seem as affected, launching into something that happened in class that morning, and Atsumu tries his best to listen.

Tingly, Suna had described the sensation as, all those weeks ago, but it's not like that at all. The feeling is almost electric, sending shivers down his spine. Currents seem to travel up and down his body, bringing him to attention and lodging his words in the middle of his throat. A bubbly heat starts in the pit of his stomach and then stretches everywhere, overwhelming his senses. His mouth opens, but for once he can't find anything to say. He can feel his face beginning to turn pink as little firecrackers blossom in his chest. Worst of all, Sakusa’s staring at him, and Atsumu thinks he might die of embarrassment.

After what seems like a lifetime, Sakusa parts his lips to say something. Words are on the brink of escaping from his tongue, but just then-

"Hey, Atsumu! Kiyoomi!"

Their shoulders go rigid, heads snapping towards the source of the voice. Komori points at Suna’s television screen. “How do you feel about Jujutsu Kaisen?”

More than four hours later, the clock nearing close to midnight, Atsumu finds himself sniffling uncontrollably as episode 12 starts blasting the outro, sensing Bokuto a few seats away from him doing the same.

"What the fuck." Osamu is the first to speak, breaking the silence after such an intense episode. Beside him, Atsumu hears Sakusa release a shaky breath. "But- the opening-"

"These bitches really clickbaited us," Suna grumbles with a shake of his head, reaching for a tissue box. "I think I just got my heart trampled on."

"That was horrible," Akaashi agrees softly. "I really wasn't expecting it to turn out that way."

Bokuto runs a gentle hand through his boyfriend's hair. "Poor dude," he says, and Atsumu nods in acknowledgment. "He deserves so much better."

Komori clears his throat, bringing everyone's attention to him. "Yeah, but," he starts with a slow, sheepish grin, "I'm not the only one who thinks Sukuna is absolutely hot, right?"

Several groans resound from all over the living room as Komori quite literally cackles at their reactions, and Sakusa catapults a stray pillow at his cousin's head.

"Read the room, Motoya," he sighs, before chewing on his lip. "But…  I do have to agree. Sukuna is like a walking wet dream. That fight between him and Megumi? Don't get me wrong, I adore Megumi, but I think I almost came right there and then."

Atsumu very purposefully doesn't think of that image. Fighting down the blush he feels starting to tint his skin, he grabs for a chocolate bar, ripping it open and popping a section into his mouth."Yeah, sure, but y'all are sleeping on Nanami. All stoic and sexy. I want him to put me in my place."

This earns a snicker from both Komori and Suna, and Atsumu huffs at the pointed look Osamu throws at him. Okay, yeah, maybe he shouldn't have said that.

"Maki and Nobara, though," Akaashi puts in, his head on Bokuto's shoulder. "If I wasn't so gay, I'd probably fall for them on the spot."

Suna nods wholeheartedly. "Definitely, Keiji-kun. They could step all over me in those boots and I'd thank them."

The atmosphere’s starting to wind down into something more mellow and cozy, rather than the frenzied aura that had been floating when they started this whole thing. A shadow of a grin still lingers on Sakusa's face as he proceeds to sip on a monster drink, and Atsumu would call it something like art.

Minutes later, Sakusa excuses himself to go to the bathroom, setting his drink down. Atsumu watches him go, the sound of running water and the image of Sakusa's pretty hair and pretty eyes and the beautiful way he had laughed when Atsumu joked about Gojo being a blind rat twink hours earlier overwhelming each one of his senses. He feels everyone else in the room watching him curiously, and he decides on something there and then.

This is going to end horribly.

He excuses himself too, following where Sakusa had gone, and flips Suna off when he whistles lowly. Bokuto flashes him a thumbs up, and Atsumu sighs in exasperation.

The bathroom door is left open, just a tiny inch as light filters into the dark hallway. He can see Sakusa inside, drying his hands, and steeling the last of his nerves, Atsumu cracks open the door and steps inside. Sakusa startles, but relaxes just as quickly.

"Oh." Sakusa blinks, surprise fading, only to be replaced with confusion as he takes in the way Atsumu closes the door behind him. "Um. Why exactly are you here with me in Suna's bathroom?"

Right. Atsumu realizes he probably should have planned a script before this. Now he must look all creepy. He winces internally, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "I just… uh, wanted some privacy, y'know? What with everyone else being out there and all."

Sakusa tilts his head, hip leaning towards the sink. "And you choose to follow me into the bathroom." He crosses his arms and lifts a single eyebrow. "Are you about to jump me right now, Miya?"

"What?" Blushing all the way down to his neck, Atsumu shakes his head, waving his hands in disagreement. "I didn't- Christ, Omi, you're making me look real stupid here!"

"I really don't think I need to even try to do that. You do it well enough for yourself."

"Ugh." Atsumu looks away. His heart is hammering so loud he worried Sakusa might be able to hear it. "Just... I wanted to talk to ya, alright?"

Sakusa stares at him questioningly for one long second, and Atsumu's starting to get the sinking feeling that the other boy is going to flat-out reject him and walk away when he nods, gesturing for Atsumu to go ahead.

For a quick, fleeting moment, Atsumu wonders if he should have picked a better spot to say all this rather than in Suna's fucking bathroom, where he can see tiny polaroids of Suna and Osamu pasted on the mirror, and he's around 98% sure the blue bottle of shampoo he sees on the top shelf is Osamu's.

Well. Here goes nothing.

Sakusa's smiling. "What's up, Miya? What do you have to tell me that you couldn't say so out there?”

"I-" Atsumu hesitates, and then remembers there's no backing out now and he'd just have to suck it up and bulldoze his way through. "I just wanted to thank you. And apologize."

This seems to surprise Sakusa. "For what?"

"For, ya know," he cringes, cursing his sudden lack of communication skills. "I was being quite a dick when we first met, so I wanted to apologize for that, because I realized I never did. And I wanna thank you too, for being here tonight. And, uh, hanging out with us too. You probably could have spent it with more serious people like Wakatoshi or whatever."

A lopsided smirk starts to creep on Sakusa's face. Atsumu wants to punch him. And maybe also smash his lips against his. "I mean, that's what friends do, right?"

Atsumu wonders when exactly they've become friends, and when he started wishing they were more than that. He swallows down the growing lump in his throat. "Yeah. Friends."

Just do it already, a voice in his head says. It sounds an awful lot like Suna. Kiss him, you coward. What are you so afraid of?

Gee, I don't know, Atsumu retorts back… to himself. He must be going insane. He could end up being absolutely disgusted by me. He could end up never wanting to see me again. Or he could laugh in my face. The possibilities are endless.

But his body compels him to act. It's almost like instinct, how he walks the few steps between them and his face inches forward and ghosts over Sakusa's beautiful flushed skin for a fraction of a second before finally, finally reaching up and landing and-

It’s far from perfect. It’s clumsy, and their noses bump, and Atsumu's starting to think he should have drank a few glasses of water or popped a few mints into his mouth before this because he's certain his breath smells like the chocolate he had earlier, but still. Sakusa's lips are so soft against his, so extremely intoxicating and warm and just slightly chapped, but their mouths seem to match anyway and it just somehow feels right. 

Atsumu's an absolute mess. His whole mind is a horrible, devastating mess, but all he can think of is Omi, Omi, Kiyoomi, and he smiles against the kiss.

He breaks away first, trying to force oxygen into his malfunctioning lungs while attempting to stammer out futile explanations at the same time. “I- Wow that was so good but- Fuck, I should have asked-”

Sakusa blinks for a few seconds, a stunned expression on his face as scarlet starts to paint his cheeks. Atsumu's a breath away from thinking it's the most breathtaking thing he's ever seen when Sakusa grabs the collar of his shirt, effectively cutting off his next words. 

"You dumbass," is all he mutters.

And he presses their lips together.

It isn't perfect, but it feels perfect. And Atsumu finds his hands going down to the small of Sakusa's back, bringing him closer, their clothes the only things keeping their heated skin separated. A soft groan slips from Sakusa's lips, and Atsumu wants to swallow the sound whole.

They pull apart at the same time, chests heaving and shirts rumpled, but there's a matching grin on both their faces and Atsumu counts this as another win.

"I'm really, really happy you just did that," Sakusa says softly, and Atsumu feels his smile reach his eyes. But then he points to what must be the door behind him, and Atsumu blinks in confusion. "But we probably should have been a bit more careful."

He turns his head to follow Sakusa's hand, and lets out a shriek so high-pitched he feels himself redden in shame.

It's a little something like deja vu.

The bathroom door has been flung wide open (when this happened, Atsumu doesn't want to know), and their friends are standing right outside, their expressions varying from amused little smirks (Komori, Suna, and 'Samu, those smug bastards) to genuine smiles (Akaashi, bless his heart). Bokuto seems to be wolf-whistling, and it's outright embarrassing and Atsumu thinks his face might explode from how red it feels, but with Sakusa snorting softly from beside him, he thinks it's something more than beautiful.

Suna pushes himself towards the front, lightly elbowing Osamu's arm. "I win," he declares triumphantly.

It takes longer than it should for Atsumu to connect the pieces together, still in a sort of haze from literally having just kissed Sakusa, but it's made obvious when everyone groans and reaches for their wallets after Suna's announcement. By the time he does piece two and two together, Sakusa has already dragged him back into the living room, cheeks painted a soft pink as he fails to hide the ridiculously big smile he's got on his face.

(Atsumu laughs it off, but he's sure he looks even worse.)

///

On Sakusa's birthday, they go out to see that animation movie.

And if Atsumu not-so-accidentally brushes over Sakusa's hands when he reaches for their shared popcorn, or nestles himself on Sakusa's shoulder, not minding their height difference now, or if their lips find each other in the darkness of the theatre like it's second nature, then no one has to know.