Chapter Text
Sakusa sat down on the bleachers, carefully setting his trumpet in his lap. He blew warm air in his gloved hands, and rubbed them together as the rest of his breath dispersed in the air. He peered down at the football field that was lit with blinding lights, his eyes locked on number seven.
Komori leaned over his shoulder, attempting to figure out who the hell he was staring at. Sakusa took a step away, nearly hitting the person beside him. “What?” He asked, frowning slightly.
“What’s so interesting?”
“I’m just watching the game.” Sakusa hummed. “Get to be here for free, might as well try to understand it.” He shrugged, looking back out at the field. He toyed with the buttons on his trumpets and ran his finger along the hook as he stared, the cold biting at his fingertips and nose.
Motoya slowly turned to the game again, completely uninterested despite his best efforts. They both eventually stood and began playing, loud horns making it difficult to hear their own instruments. Sakusa stayed standing for an extra second, looking at the player again, he was staring up at him. The boy quickly turned to one of his friends, both of them laughing as they jogged out onto the field. Kiyoomi frowned a bit as he pulled on his mask, sitting down again.
He zoned out and stared at the floor for the remainder of the game, only engaging when he had to play. He swung his trumpet between his legs, cursing himself for letting his hopes up. He excused it as being tired, hell, he felt like his bones were pressing through the heels of his feet, going to pop through if he had to stand again. He sighed, having to get up for the final song of the night. He put on a preppy look as he pressed his trumpet to his lips, tapping his foot as everyone played.
He sighed as soon as they finished, dropping the horn to his side. He held onto the back of Komori’s shirt as he followed him out and down to the field where they kept all of their cases. He looked down as he pulled off the mouthpiece, wiping it off with a cloth before he put it away. “It’s so fucking cold.” He muttered, the metal froze his finger tips.
“I know,” Komori nodded, snapping his own case shut. “I couldn’t think straight.”
Sakusa smiled a bit, “Me neither.” He carefully set his trumpet down, folding up the cloth. “Ready?” He asked, Komori nodding. They walked through the snow dusted faux grass, Sakusa looked back at the blond player, who paid him no mind. He looked down again, holding onto the strap as tight as he could.
He plopped down inside the car, pulling off his gloves finger by finger. “I’m exhausted.” He said after a few seconds of silence, the air pumping out of the car was freezing. He kept his jacket on, tugging it tight around his shoulders.
“Me too.” He nodded, smiling as the air slowly turned warm. He pulled off his jacket and gloves, tossing it into the back seat before he began driving, Kiyoomi’s eyes locked on the group of boys sitting near an old, beat up truck. It was number seven and some of his friends, all chatting about what he imagined to be football. He rested his head in his hand as they sped off, a small smile on his face. Even if he couldn’t have him, the kid was nice to look at.
Motoya dropped him off at home, Sakusa sighing as he pushed the door open, warm air smacking him in the face. He slipped off his shoes and ran up to his room before anyone had the chance to bitch about him making too much noise.
He changed into pajamas before he turned on his desk light and shut off his ceiling light, climbing into bed. He grabbed a small leather journal from his nightstand along with a pen, attempting to put his thoughts on paper. He furrowed his eyebrows as he scribbled out a sentence, he had never been great with words. He ended up settling on scribbling on the page, the pen held so tight his knuckles turned white. He tossed it onto his desk and shut off the light before he fell onto the mattress, shutting his eyes tight.
Sakusa maneuvered through the hallway, attempting to untangle his earbuds as he pushed through the crowd. He glanced over to see Tsukasa and Motoya, a slight smile on his face.
“Morning.” Tsukasa hummed, bumping into his side.
“Morning.” He replied, selecting a random song from his playlist. He looked ahead at the group in front of him, it was number seven. He gulped and stared at his back, tuning out the boys next to him. His heart sank as he made eye contact with the tall blond, quickly looking down at his feet. He could feel his eyes linger for a few seconds and punched himself in the thigh, the judgement clouding him.
“Kiyo?” Motoya’s voice cut through, snapping him out of it. Sakusa looked over, “Are you auditioning? For jazz?”
He looked down at his feet for a moment. “Maybe. I’m trying to get my grades up.” He replied, flipping his phone in his hands. “And I don’t think I can do marching and jazz at the same time.”
“You totally could,” Iizuna chuckled, “You’re smart.”
“Not really.” He shrugged. “Average at best.”
“Ah, whatever.” Motoya rolled his eyes, following the group around the corner.
Sakusa found himself staring at his back again, his hands curled into fists. It was their first day back from break, new schedules had rolled out, and he almost found himself hoping to have a class with him. It seemed like it would simultaneously be the best and worst thing ever.
To his luck, they walked into the same history class.
Kiyoomi sat a row behind Atsumu, his hands toying with a pencil. He had his notebook out, his face flushed as he stared down at it, desperately attempting to avoid looking at him. It was much harder than it should’ve been.
Sakusa heard shifting before an arm set on his desk, it was tan and freckled. He looked up at Atsumu, his heart stopping.
“Kiyo, right?” He asked, “I’ve seen you at games.” He tapped the eraser of his pencil on the corner of the desk.
“Kiyoomi,” He corrected, “Kiyoomi Sakusa, yeah.” He spluttered, watching the boy’s mouth twist into a toothy grin.
“M’ Atsumu. Miya if you’re bein’ formal, but it’s kinda confusing with my brother.” He chuckled. Sakusa chewed the inside of his lip as he nodded, his mind short circuiting. “I’m assumin’ you’ll be at the game this week’nd?”
“How could I miss it?” He smiled a bit, glancing at the boy beside Atsumu, he was also on the football team. He adjusted his posture, his hands tightening around his pencil.
Atsumu glanced at the boy and laughed a bit, covering the side of his face and whispering something before he looked at Kiyoomi. “You uh, you play trumpet, yeah?”
“Mhm.” He hummed, slowly realizing it was all a joke. He was an idiot. He looked down and exhaled slowly, his body overheating and his shoulders raised.
“You any good?”
“Are you any good at football?” He asked snarkily, Atsumu laughed at the remark.
“Fair enough.” He smiled, turning around in his seat. Kiyoomi sighed and looked down, his mind shutting down as the teacher began to talk. He zoned out the entirety of class, mindlessly scribbling down everything the teacher said. He collected his things the second the bell rang, shoving everything into his backpack.
“I’ll see ya around!” Atsumu called after him as he sped out of the classroom, desperately attempting to find one of his few friends. He shoved his earbuds in, cranked up his music and followed the flow of traffic.
He dreaded class every single day. He was fully convinced it was incomprehensible for someone like Atsumu to have the slightest interest in someone like him, so his piqued interest made him feel sick. At least he was getting attention.
Kiyoomi tossed his bag on the floor as he fell into his seat, Atsumu watched him. “What’s up, Omi?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head, taking out his laptop. He opened it and began writing his essay they had been working on, he was miserably behind.
“Do you know what exactly the requirements are?” Atsumu placed both elbows on Kiyoomi’s desk, “I’m lost.”
“They’re on the document thingy, I think.” He glanced up, “She sent it in an email.”
“Oh.” Atsumu nodded. “Do you have yours done?”
“I’ve barely started.” He mumbled, beginning to type again.
“I was lookin’ to cheat off ya.” Atsumu chuckled, Sakusa clenched his jaw and didn’t dignify the comment with a response. Miya fell silent after a moment, gulping and turning around. Suna leaned over and said something to the blond, immediately getting shoved off.
He looked at him for a moment, unsure of what that meant. Atsumu turned around again, pulling the laptop screen down and looking down at it. “Anomalistic.” He read, “You should help me with mine.”
“I stopped writing essays for people a long time ago.” He shook his head.
“I never said write it for me, just help me workshop it.” Atsumu insisted, resting his chin on the desk. “I wanna do the work.” Kiyoomi stared at him, trying to work out whether or not it was a joke. “I’ll buy you dinner after the game on Sunday, we can work on it then.”
“Your brother seems smart, why don’t you just have him do it?”
“He’s the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.” Atsumu chuckled, “We don’t even have to get dinner, I can getcha a slice of pie or somethin’. Like a half hour.”
Sakusa sighed softly, glancing up at the clock, time couldn’t go any slower. “Fine.”
Atsumu walked up to him after the game, tapping his shoulder. Kiyoomi jumped and nearly dropped his trumpet, Komori laughing at him as he attempted to get himself under wraps, turning around to face the player.
“Hey.” Miya smiled, poking his fingers between the holes on his helmet. “Almost ready?” He asked. Motoya turned to him, tilting his head and nudging his leg.
Sakusa waved him off and turned to Atsumu, shutting his case. “Yeah.” He nodded, turning back to his cousin, “Don’t worry about giving me a ride home.” He smiled a bit, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He reached forward and gave him a hug, Komori muttering a confused goodbye.
Sakusa followed Atsumu to his car. He still had his full uniform on, both of them did, as Atsumu awkwardly began a conversation. “So you and your cousin are pretty close.”
“Mhm.” He nodded, watching Atsumu open up the trunk and set his helmet in, he placed his trumpet next to it. Miya pulled off his jersey and tossed it in, Sakusa went red and looked down, his hands clenched into fists. Miya had a white tank top underneath, but it still felt wrong looking as he took off his shoulder pads. “My siblings are older so he’s who I hung out with.” He continued, hoping to get his mind off of it.
“Makes sense.” He nodded, grabbing a hoodie from his sports bag, pulling it on. “They don’t have locker rooms here,” He explained, “So we get to change in the car.” He chuckled, grabbing out a pair of shorts and pulling them on over his pants, carefully wiggling them off without flashing the whole school. Sakusa pulled off his jacket and gloves, folding them neatly and placing them on top of his trumpet. “Car’s unlocked.” Atsumu hummed, Kiyoomi nodded and walked to the front, sitting down. He gulped and stared at his knees, deeply confused with what he got himself into.
The entire car shifted as Atsumu sat down, starting the car. “How old are your siblings?” He asked as he buckled in, Kiyoomi watching his hands as his stomach flipped.
“Twenty-seven and twenty-five.”
“Jeez,” He blew out air as he pulled out of the lot, “You’re seventeen, right?”
“Sixteen. Late birthday.”
“I couldn't imagine that.” He chuckled and got onto the street, driving fast and sloppy. Sakusa stared with wide eyes, holding onto the handle. He gasped as Miya swung into the parking lot of a small diner called Ojiro’s. He exhaled slowly when Atsumu parked, immediately turning and grabbing his laptop and wallet from his backpack.
The blond hopped out of the car and ran up to the door, holding it open for Sakusa as he pulled on his mask, giving a little nod. Miya followed him in, waving to the worker. He was older, his curly hair tucked under a cap. “Hey Tsumu.” He hummed, “Sit wherever.”
“Thank ya,” He grinned, finding a booth against a window. Sakusa sat across from him and raised an eyebrow as he waited for Atsumu to take out his laptop. The worker walked up and set down a laminated menu, and Atsumu pushed it across the table to him. Sakusa hesitantly picked it up.
“Who’s this?” The man asked, glancing at him.
“Kiyoomi, he’s in my history class.” Atsumu explained, “Helpin’ me with my essay.”
“Nice to meet you.” The man smiled, Kiyoomi echoed a reply. He walked off to the back and came back with two glasses of water, “What can I get y’all?”
“I’ll do a slice of cherry.” Atsumu hummed, both sets of eyes now on Kiyoomi.
“I’ll do the same.” He said awkwardly, handing over the menu. “Thank you.”
The man nodded and walked off to the back of the store, Atsumu pulling out his laptop. He logged in and spun it around to Kiyoomi. To his surprise it was completely written and edited, and it was far from bad. He glanced up once the pie was set down, Atsumu was watching with anxious eyes.
“It’s good.” Sakusa said after a second, Atsumu’s shoulders loosening up. “I like your viewpoint.” He clicked in, deleting a word. “I’m gonna switch this out.” He turned the laptop to him and pointed at a sentence, Atsumu nodded before he deleted and rewrote it.
“Try your pie,” He insisted, Sakusa sighed and moved the laptop over. He cut off a small piece and tried it, slowly nodding as Miya stared. “It’s good, right?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, covering his mouth as he swallowed. “Thanks.”
“Good.” He smiled, “You got some on your lip,” He pointed out, Sakusa picking up a napkin and wiping his mouth off. “Still there.”
Sakusa furrowed his eyebrows slightly, scrubbing his lips again. He tilted his head as Atsumu shook his own. He pulled out his phone and checked, not seeing anything. “No I don’t?”
“I was messin with ya.” Atsumu laughed awkwardly as Sakusa blinked at him, awkwardly grabbing the laptop again. He cringed at the new tension in the room, putting all of his attention back onto the screen. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” He shrugged, “I think you could go more into the end,” He switched the conversation, explaining the concept, Atsumu nodding and agreeing as he spoke.
“You keep to yourself a lot, huh?” He said after a moment, Sakusa sighed softly.
“I guess.”
“It’s cool.” Atsumu smiled slightly, Kiyoomi unsure if it was mocking or honest. “I mean I know I’m all loud,” he chuckled, pushing his hair back. Sakusa nodded and shut the laptop, sliding it over and collecting his things. “You’re done?”
“Yup.”
“You didn’t even finish your pie,”
“You can take it.” He stood, putting his wallet away and taking out his phone, deciding he would ask Komori to take him home.
“Wait a sec,” Atsumu blurted, “Let me just get boxes and I’ll give ya a ride home.” He offered, walking to the counter before Kiyoomi had a chance to decline. He came back, packaged up the pie and handed Sakusa his own.
The only thing said the entire ride home was directions. Atsumu pulled up to his house and leaned down to look, “Damn,” He whispered, “You got a nice place.”
“Thanks,” Kiyoomi said awkwardly, reaching for the handle.
“Are you going to Suna’s tomorrow?”
Kiyoomi shook his head, “Wasn’t invited.” He shrugged, pushing the door open.
“You should come,” Atsumu grinned, “I think it’s mostly the football guys, but it’ll be fun. Give you a chance to make some friends.”
“I was gonna have some of my own friends over tomorrow.” Sakusa stood up and shut the door, opening up the back. He pulled out his things and walked inside, setting everything down on the kitchen counter. He grabbed the pie and a fork, plopped down on the couch and turned on a show, calling Motoya and putting it on speaker.
“What’s up?”
“I just got home.” He said, pushing a cut cherry around the plastic box.
“What were you even doing?”
“Asked for help on his essay and offered free food, so I agreed.” He smiled a bit.
“How was it? I see you staring at him all the time.”
Sakusa tensed up at the accusation, “No I don’t.” He spat out, “And it was terrible.” He muttered, hating that the guy was exactly what he expected. “He was doing that weird thing where they pretend to be all nice to you just to laugh later.” He explained, “He even invited me to a party.”
“What did you say?”
“No.”
“You should’ve said yes,” Motoya groaned, “Then we could’ve made fun of all the shit they do.”
“My parents are out of town tomorrow anyway, I was just gonna invite you and Iizuna over.”
“That’s even more reason to go!” He pressed, “We can hang out while you’re there and spend the night and make fun of them when you’re back.”
Sakusa smiled a bit at the suggestion, “Okay.” He agreed, rubbing his forehead. “I’ll get the address.”