Work Text:
The thing is that night didn’t seem all that important at the time. Kiyoomi went to sleep with a bit of a bitter taste about the entire ordeal in his mouth, but that was it. He didn’t think to consider anything else. He woke up in the morning, packed all of his stuff into his duffle bag, and then met the rest of his teammates in the lobby.
Well, not all of them.
Most everyone was there except Bokuto, Atsumu and Hinata. Kiyoomi knew Bokuto wasn’t going to be there. He usually drives to games with Akaashi now, so he wasn’t expected to be in that lobby. Atsumu should have been there. They waited for their manager to check everyone one out of their rooms, and Kiyoomi looked for Atsumu around the lobby. He didn’t come. Hinata did walk into the lobby, however.
He was looking wrecked to say the least.
Kiyoomi couldn’t tell if it was from the hangover, or other forces. But he got whistles from most of the team before he put his hands over his ears to block out the sound. He ended up sitting down next to Kiyoomi, craving the quiet that you could usually find near Kiyoomi.
“Where’s your other half this morning, Sakusa?” Hinata asked, pressing his temples.
Kiyoomi bit his lip, he really didn’t know. No one else seemed to be asking that question, but it did count as odd. He didn’t remember Atsumu being drunk last night. Or even drinking whatsoever, but that had become par for the course when going out with him. In fact, Kiyoomi couldn’t remember the last time he had drank with Atsumu. Was it that night at Osamu’s apartment? That seems so long ago.
“I don’t know.” He admitted, not having the energy for anything else.
Hinata opened his eyes to give him a once over again. This time he saw Kiyoomi’s swollen eyes, the bags underneath them, and mussed up curls. Kiyoomi was spent, he couldn’t even bring himself to care that Hinata was seeing this side of himself. He had fallen asleep last night, but sleep was fleeting at best. It came sporadically, and lasted even more so. That morning Hinata learned a side of Kiyoomi, one that didn’t seem to be above everyone else. A side of him that seemed human, and messy. A part that seemed hurt.
“You guys had a disagreement.” Hinata nodded, getting it in that minute.
Kiyoomi nodded slightly, and lifted his water bottle to a mouth to play it off as just a slight movement to anyone who might have been paying attention. He was willing to be open to Hinata, because Hinata was Hinata, but he didn’t want to be surrounded by a bunch of people inquiring about what happened.
“Kind of,” He winced, remembering everything that happened last night.
It wasn’t really a disagreement, at least not a verbal one. It was more a difference in opinion. Kiyoomi felt the way he felt, and Atsumu, well he just didn’t. Just thinking of it caused Kiyoomi to unconsciously look at his phone, hoping to see a message light up the screen. It didn’t happen. It was once again radio silence, and Kiyoomi was sick of it. He was past the point of being upset over it, because he was just sick of it.
Kiyoomi wasn’t a stranger to Atsumu’s moods. He probably knew more about them than anyone, except probably Osamu. But was he being selfish to wish that Atsumu would talk to him? Or at least let him know what he wants Kiyoomi to do during them? Was he supposed to pester, or return radio silence? He really didn’t know.
“Do you want to talk it through?” Hinata asked.
Kiyoomi was about to shoot back a horribly mannered denial, but he couldn’t find it in him. Both he and Hinata were feeling terrible, albeit that they were for very different reasons, but they found kinship in it. Plus, he just seemed like he wouldn’t judge him for breaking down. There had to be a reason that so many people were drawn into Hinata and his personality. Granted he was a dumbass, but he was a dumbass who would be there for you.
Kiyoomi felt his head slump into his hands. His mind felt like it was spread thin. Most of the entire night was spent thinking about how differently things could have gone down, and he couldn’t help but feel like if only he had a little more grasp on himself. If only he was a little more there. If only he hadn’t drinken that night. There was so much that could have changed. The night didn’t have to end like it did. He could be blissfully fucked out right now, but instead he was crying to Hinata about something he messed up. Hinata probably didn’t want to hear about all of this, but he asked. He deserves whatever word vomit he subjected himself to.
“ Fuck, I messed up, Shoyo. I messed everything up,” He didn’t feel like calling him “Hinata” matched the type of confession he was giving. No one really knew about what was going on
between Kiyoomi and Atsumu, and here he was bearing his sins to him. Well, they didn’t tell anyone (except for Komori and Yachi, but they lived far away so they didn’t count).
“Then, Kiyoomi ,” He tested the word on his lips, “What did you do? How did you mess everything up?”
He rubbed his eyes with his palms. He was exhausted, and felt like he would fall asleep within any second. Talking to Hinata would keep him awake. That was just one more thing egging him on to bear his soul, all his sins, to his teammate. He was sure that Hinata didn’t want to know about them, but he was going to do it anyways. It was kind of like a “fuck you” to Atsumu, for leaving him in the dark about, well most everything.
“I feel used,” He was too tired to care, “I feel like he used me.”
Kiyoomi could see Hinata blink from out of the corner of his eye, but then he responded, “Explain. How did Atsumu use you?”
Kiyoomi exhaled loudly, having just finally pinned Atsumu’s actions to a reason. It was almost euphoric to understand the slightest bit of what was going on, “God, I’ve got to go back a while. I think it all started after our first game. I finally told Atsumu I was gay because he had been flirting with me for years. I was getting sick of it, and thought he would stop if he knew I was, you know, into men.”
Hinata nodded and put a hesitant hand on Kiyoomi’s shoulder. It was something he had seen Yachi, Komori, and Atsumu do to Kiyoomi, so he figured it was safe.
“He took me out to lunch that day,” Kiyoomi paused and laughed a bitter laugh, “That was probably the only date he took me on.”
Hinata didn’t know how to respond to that. Luckily, he didn’t need to because Kiyoomi carried on with his story.
“Anyways, we went back to Osamu’s apartment, got shitface drunk, and ended up giving each other drunken handjobs.”
Hinata’s eyes shot wide and wasn’t able to hold back a “that early?” He realized what he said immediately, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry Kiyoomi.”
“It’s fine,” He laughed through his hands, “It’s fine, you’re right. It was really early. We hadn’t even kissed before that point. Anyways, he was asleep when I woke up, you know how it goes. I needed to be back in Osaka, so I left a note, and drove home. I really thought he would text me. I really did, I- I don’t know.”
Kiyoomi saw as it dawned on Hinata. They all remembered that specific one of Atsumu’s slumps. It was probably the longest one, “Oh, oh God, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Kiyoomi repeated, “It was just so long without talking to anyone. I didn’t-” he paused to stop his voice from breaking, “I didn’t know what to do.”
He took a break from talking, and sat up again, wiping away the tears that laced his eyes. Hinata’s hand came off his shoulder from the sudden movement, and moved to rest in his lap. Kiyoomi looked around the room, their managers were still talking at the front desk. Everyone was still co-mingling with each other. It was like this conversation wasn’t even happening. It gave him some peace in mind that these people weren’t actually listening in on his confessions. He wasn’t prepared for everyone to know about his misgivings. That was too much intimacy to share with that many people.
“It took forever, Shoyo, it really did, and even then I don’t he was the same. I texted him a morning before practice, and we met up after practice to talk it through. We agreed to be friends, and eventually I got over it. Eventually he kissed me again, and whatever this was struck up. God, this was doomed from the start. I don’t know how I could have been so stupid.”
Hinata’s expression stayed soft, and his words stayed without judgement as he asked, “Kiyoomi, what happened last night?”
“ Fucking Bokuto.” He cursed under his breath, “I was listening to Akaashi and Bokuto for way too long last night.”
Hinata’s expression changed to understanding as he nodded, “Yeah, those two are brutal on single people. Or um-”
Hinata didn’t really know what to describe Kiyoomi as. As far as he knew they were exclusive. It was one thing to have a romantic partner while being a pro, but two separate relationships? That was practically impossible.
“-Single,” Kiyoomi inputted, “I’m fucking single after all these damn months.”
“Noted,” He nodded.
“Yeah, I was listening to them all and got the damn stupid idea in my head that if I only told him how I felt, we’d be okay. And I did, and we weren’t okay. At least, I don’t think so, but I could be wrong because Atsumu won’t man the hell up and talk to me. “
Hinata bit his lip, almost regretting asking, but he knew he had to, “What did he do?”
“He kissed me. He just kept kissing me, until he made some bullshit excuse about needing to take a shower, and that he felt drunk. That bitch didn’t even drink last night. He hasn’t drinken alcohol in months. And then he kissed my damn forehead and left. No texts last night, no texts this morning, he’s just MIA, and I’m damn sick of it.”
“Do you want me to ask Meian-san where he is? They don’t seem to look confused so Atsumu must have told them something,” He offered.
Kiyoomi snorted, “Yeah go ahead. They won’t tell you anything we don’t know. He definitely said that he was going to stay in Tokyo for a few days so he could avoid me. That bastard.”
Hinata frowned with something like pity laced in his eyes as he got up off the couch to go track down Meian for Atsumu’s location. Kiyoomi rolled his eyes as he slouched back into the couch. He was sick of it. He hadn’t had a real relationship before, but he was damn near convinced that this didn’t happen to everyone.
Kiyoomi was right about the start of another one of Atsumu’s moods. MSBY took a train down to Osaka so Kiyoomi couldn’t check his phone for a while, but when he did have service again there wasn’t a single text from Atsumu. Who he did see a text from was Hinata.
From Hinata: I’ll try and text Atsumu tonight, and I’ll tell you if he answers
From Hinata: For now I think we should probably leave him alone for a while
From Hinata: Can I ask Bokuto to text him as well??
To Hinata: Do what you want, I don’t care
To Hinata: Thank you, though
It was 10 days that Kiyoomi didn’t see, talk, or get a text from Atsumu. He did get texts from Hinata every single morning. Hinata asked if he was okay, if he had eaten, if he needed to drag Yachi and Komori down to Osaka. Kiyoomi answered every morning, not wanting to make Hinata worry about him. On the 6th day, he dropped off Umeboshi. Kiyoomi thanked him.
If you’re wondering, their season was mostly over. It had run especially long this year since they qualified for the winter tournament, so practices came fewer.
Bokuto texted him a few times. He didn’t know what exactly happened between Atsumu and him, but he knew something happened. Hinata didn’t fill him in, feeling that it wasn’t his place. Akaashi also reached out, asking if he needed anything from either of them. Kiyoomi politely declined the invitation, and instead opted to just stay home.
He knew he couldn’t stay there inevitably, but he just wanted to see how long it would take him before he would have to step out of his house. There was one downside to staying in his apartment all the time. There were constant reminders of Atsumu everywhere. Kiyoomi had at least three changes of Atsumu’s clothes sitting in folded piles in his closet. He couldn’t even look at his couch. They spent hours together on that couch. The guest slippers near the Genkan were practically Atsumu’s. Who else would wear them? Probably the worst one was Bread.
That damn cat. It was so damn affectionate, and it couldn’t survive the day without sitting on Kiyoomi’s lap at least once. Sometimes Kiyoomi could tolerate it, but other times he couldn’t bear to look at her. It just seemed like Atsumu’s cat.
He shook his head as he looked down at the cat sitting in his lap. The worst part of it all was that she was such a sweet thing. He petted her head once and she leaned into his hand, happy to receive the affection that had been lacking over the past few days. Kiyoomi picked up a piece of the dried fish he had been eating out of a bag, and handed one to her. She took it happily, and began purring against his chest.
He couldn’t hate her. He couldn’t even feel any sort of resentment towards this cat. Bread was just caught in the middle, and it really wasn’t her fault. He quietly wondered if she even missed Atsumu. He was around a lot for the first few days she lived in Kiyoomi’s apartment, but it’s been two weeks or so since he had been over. She had probably gotten bigger since then. Atsumu wouldn’t know, however.
“Come on, cat,” Kiyoomi sighed as he sat up on his couch, “I should probably feed you.”
The cat responded with an excited meow, and immediately got off of him to go lead the way to the food bowl. Bread didn’t know what was going on. Kiyoomi envied her. All she knew was that he was around a lot more often. All she knew was that his lap was empty a lot more often. Bread was content with that.
He opened the cat food and poured some of it into a bowl, and sat down on his kitchen floor to scroll through his text messages while Bread ate her food. He had a few unanswered messages from Komori. Yachi had texted him as well. Hinata, Bokuto, even his mom, but that probably didn’t have anything to do with anything. The last notification left him reeling.
Of course it was Atsumu.
He always seemed to do this at unassuming times. Kiyoomi unconsciously reached over and pet Bread’s back as he opened the message. His hands were shaking, he wanted to open it, of course, but at the same time, he didn’t. He didn’t have high expectations. He didn’t expect an apology, in fact he didn’t even want an apology over text. It was so easy to lie over text, so he didn’t want one. He opened the message and stared at it, seeing the words, but they didn’t click in his mind. He didn’t seem to understand them, until he reread them a fourth time.
From OmiOmi’s favorite person: Can I talk to you, because I feel like we have a lot to say to one another
Kiyoomi knew what Atsumu was saying now, but he still found himself rereading the message, trying to find a hint that this wasn’t going to go in the direction he thought it was going to go. There was nothing there, and Kiyoomi, well he wasn’t surprised. He had been waiting for this for days, weeks really. He had been preparing himself for this outcome ever since that morning they spent in his bed. He knew the outcome ever since Atsumu said that one fateful line, but he just wished that he could have postponed it just a little longer.
To OmiOmi’s favorite person: In person or over text?
What Kiyoomi was really asking was “Are you going to be an asshole or not?” Of course he would rather break up in person, because that was just a lot better than being dumped over text, but seeing Atsumu again seemed like a huge task. Even if Atsumu wasn’t breaking up with him, he knew they had to. Kiyoomi, well he had made a huge misjudgment. Atsumu, whatever he was going through, he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship.
From OmiOmi’s favorite person: In person
Well at least he had the decency to not dump Kiyoomi over text.
To OmiOmi’s favorite person: Yeah, come over I guess
From OmiOmi’s favorite person: I won’t be long
To OmiOmi’s favorite person: okay
To be completely honest, he had been waiting for this. He had been waiting around all this time for this. It was- it felt inevitable. Kiyoomi didn’t know what he did, or how he got to the point where his relationship had a clock on it. He had been watching the time slowly dwindle down for weeks, and his actions only helped it along. Now the time had run out, and he didn’t know what to do. He probably could avoid seeing him for a while, but not forever, not when they worked together. Not when they had to practice together every day when their season picked back up again.
Kiyoomi picked himself up from off the floor. Atsumu would probably want his clothes back. He then had a chilling thought, what if Atsumu wanted his cat back?
He glanced over at Bread sitting on the floor, still eating her food. He had lived with the cat for the last few weeks, and to be honest, gotten quite attached. He didn’t think he would be able to give her back. She- she had become a part of his life. Atsumu couldn’t take her back, he gave her to Kiyoomi. That would be bad taste. He couldn’t take her back, could he? Kiyoomi didn’t want to think about it. He left the cat in the kitchen, and walked to his room. He had Atsumu’s clothes in his closet, and figured he could distract Atsumu from Bread if he at least returned those.
It would probably be better if Bread wasn’t out and wandering around the apartment.
“Cat!” Kiyoomi called from the bedroom, “Bread! Come on!”
He frowned, Bread never came when he called her. It would probably get better as she got older, but it was kind of frustrating that she would go to Atsumu when he called her name. He walked out of his bedroom again, grabbed the cat, and shut her in there.
He figured she’d just take a nap for a while. This probably wouldn’t drag on too long. The only thing was that now that he wasn’t worried about his cat, he didn’t have anything else to focus on. He was kind of miserable, and now he would just have to sit there and wait. He almost wished that he asked Atsumu if he could go to him, because at least he would’ve been able to distract himself with driving. Now he couldn’t even do that. He didn’t think he had the energy to go walk over to the bowl with the remote in it. He couldn’t even have the tv on for background noise. He was instead forced to sit in his thoughts, with a folded pile of Atsumu’s clothes next to him. A familiar ache began to bite at his throat, and he had to shove it down. He couldn’t break down, not right now, not when Atsumu was probably only a few minutes away from his doorstep.
The silence was suffocating. Kiyoomi caved and pulled out his phone quickly and turned on music. This was all he could do, focus on the music and try to pull himself together. In the background he could hear Bread meowing in his bedroom, and he felt the urge to take her out to have her curl up on his lap. He didn’t, of course, on the off chance that Atsumu would take her away. The only music he had on his phone was a workout playlist, and it didn’t really match the situation. He supposed that was a good thing because Yachi often listened to sad music when she was crying and that just made it so much worse. He didn’t think he would be able to use this playlist again after today, though. It would be too infused with whatever was going on.
And then his doorbell rang. He had been waiting for it to come, ready for it to come, but it still surprised him all the same. He knocked two pillows off the couch in his panicked glance towards the door. He knew it was damn gonna happen, but still, it was hard to stand up off the couch and answer the door. He instead wanted to continue sitting there until he went away. Kiyoomi exhaled slowly, this is better for both of us.
His legs felt heavy as he trudged over to the door. He knew for a fact he looked like a mess. He had been wearing the same clothes for the past two days, he didn’t even think he had seen a mirror since he’d gotten home. Sleep? Fleeting at best. Eating? That had been sporadic as well. He had been on a roller coaster of ups and downs over the past few days and it left him feeling worn, and looking even more so.
He was at least happy to say that Atsumu looked like he felt when he opened the doors. It was a little flicker of comfort in a sea of whatever was going on that Atsumu was a mess. If he had walked up to the door with real clothes on, Kiyoomi was sure he would have slammed it back in his face. It was a little comforting for just a minute, but then Kiyoomi found it horrible to see him like that. He had the sudden urge to pull him into his house, and R and R him into looking like a functional person again. He couldn’t do that, no, that would send mixed messages about what needed to happen here.
“Kiyoomi-” Atsumu’s voice broke as he started, or well tried to start.
He looked away, not ready to face him. He would lose his nerve, “I know, I know Atsumu.”
“We-” He looked down at his hands as if they would somehow give him strength to get through this, “We can’t continue on like this.”
Kiyoomi had to close his eyes to let the words roll over him, “I know.”
“I’m so-,” He choked on the words, at least having the decency to be on the brink of tears, “I’m sorry, Kiyoomi.”
“ Fuck,” Kiyoomi bit back a sob, “I know .”
“I guess, um,” Atsumu’s hand twitched as a response to reach out for Kiyoomi. He had gotten so used to doing so over these past few weeks, “Goodbye, then.”
“Wait,” Kiyoomi croaked, and caught his wrist, “Just one question.”
“Kiyoomi,” Atsumu’s voice got low before he was about to protest.
“Please!” He begged, “Just one question. I won’t ask you anything else!”
Atsumu exhaled, already regretting his decision, but unable to resist. The man in front of him looked so broken, so unlike Kiyoomi, he couldn’t bear it. Atsumu knew what he was about to say would hurt him so he held out just a little longer, and Kiyoomi took that as an answer. He asked his question, one that Kiyoomi knew he needed an answer to.
“Why?” It was a simple question, but a hard one for Atsumu to answer, “Was I not good enough for you? Did I ever mean anything to you?” the words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them, “Was I too much to handle? I’m sorry! I tried my best! Was it not enough?”
The words left Atsumu feeling hollow, and unpresent. It was like he was watching a movie instead of his life. He felt a pinging feeling of sadness, but not one he could so easily connect to himself. He was no longer in control of his own body, he was no longer connected to it. He answered Kiyoomi’s questions, all of them.
“You were perfect, Kiyoomi,” He paused, something so far away was telling him he was making a mistake, that this was wrong, “You were perfect, but I couldn’t ever love ya the way you want me to.”
Kiyoomi’s head lifted just a little bit and through blurred tears he asked, “Why?”
“I can’t love you, because-” he paused again, “because I don’t love men.”
The words leaving Atsumu’s mouth triggered something in Kiyoomi’s brain, but he couldn't figure out what it was. They- they didn't make sense. Atsumu was talking but his words didn’t translate into anything Kiyoomi could understand. They were contradictory to things he knew were true. They didn’t make sense.
“I don’t-” He looked up at him again to meet a stone cold, unyielding face, “understand. What are you saying?”
“I’m not gay.”
Kiyoomi’s brain felt like it was moving syrupy slow, he couldn’t seem to process anything. He didn’t understand, he felt like he didn’t want to understand, “You’re not gay?”
As the words left his mouth, the sadness that clouded his vision began to burn away. His brain began working again from the tiny jolt that saying the words aloud brought him. He stood up straighter, no longer feeling like he was trying to interpret words with his head underwater. Everything was clear for one moment, one second, until the calmness gave way to anger. Anger because Atsumu was lying, either to Kiyoomi or himself, and he could bet on which one it was.
“You’re not gay?” He asked again, already his chest felt like it was tightening, and adrenaline began pushing through his veins with every pump of his heart.
Atsumu nodded.
“Well, goddamn, Miya! You’re bisexual then! Pansexual! I don’t know, but you aren’t fucking straight !”
“Sakusa,” Atsumu’s eyes burned and Kiyoomi knew he was pushing buttons, “I’m straight, I like girls. Nothing else.”
“No,” Kiyoomi laughed at the sheer audacity of it all, “You have been flirting with me since we were 15 years old. Newsflash, you’re gay!”
“You looked so fucking pretty on yer golden fucking pedestal, Sakusa. You acted like you were so above everyone else. Was it really my fault that I wanted to knock ya down a few steps? I could hardly resist with you looking so pompous.”
“FOR 6 YEARS?! THAT’S NOT ANNOYANCE, THAT’S ATTRACTION! YOU’RE GAY!”
“Sakusa, I swear to God,” Kiyoomi could see that he was testing Atsumu’s patience, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Atsumu, well Atsumu was lying to himself and in turn was hurting Kiyoomi. He deserved it. He deserved everything Kiyoomi had said.
“My God,” Kiyoomi rolled his eyes and ran his hands through his hair, “this is rich! You should go tell Osamu all about this.”
“Fuck you.” Atsumu’s voice lowered.
“Go tell Osamu that you’re not gay, but at the same time, I think it’s high time you told them what we did on their couch. You should tell them how I made you beg for me. Do you remember that, Miya? Do you remember how you moaned my name? You should tell them about that, and then tell them all about how you’re not gay.”
“Sakusa, stop.”
“Even better yet, do it when Osamu is sitting at the breakfast table with Rintarou, enjoying their lives as a happily queer couple. I’m sure they’d love to hear it! Ohh, you should invite Aran, and Kita. It’ll be a whole ass party!”
“FUCK YOU!”
“YOU ALREADY DID THAT! IF THAT’S NOT GAY, NOTHING IS!”
“Sakusa, I swear to God I’m gonna-”
“You’re gonna what? Huh? Dump me on my doorstep? You already did that, Miya.”
Atsumu exhaled quietly, almost laughing, “I didn’t dump you, Sakusa. We were never together.”
Kiyoomi had tears running down his face, but he didn’t even feel sad anymore. He just felt rage. He felt sick of tears. Absolutely sick.
“Tell them,” his voice broke for what felt like the first time, “how you used me. How you made me fall in love with you and then used me. Tell them that.”
Atsumu blinked, unable to say anything to that.
“TELL THEM!! YOU FUCKING BASTARD, DO IT!!”
Atsumu was quiet for a minute, and that’s when Kiyoomi noticed the tears running down his face for the first time.
“Get the fuck out of my house.”
“I-” Atsumu’s hand reached out but it faltered. He just stood there, frozen.
“GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE!”
Kiyoomi didn’t even remember to give Atsumu back his clothes.