Chapter Text
Kiyoomi can feel his eyebrow twitch as another distant yell floats into his kitchen. He pushes away his laptop, making the array of papers crinkle as they’re moved. He’s been trying to study for the past three hours, but his new neighbors have interrupted the peace he doesn’t get very often.
When Kiyoomi saw the for sale sign turn to sold, he was hoping for someone older— much older so his neighborhood would stay exactly how it is, quiet and peaceful. But the new owners of the house showed up early today, yelling at eight in the morning and making Kiyoomi want to commit homicide. He decides to take a break since he has errands to run anyway, and getting away from the constant commotion next door will hopefully help clear his mind so he can study later.
As Kiyoomi steps out of his house, the yelling is louder, and suddenly He’s being pushed back against his front door. Two sturdy paws are planted firmly on his chest and Kiyoomi shudders in disgust as a sloppy tongue moves across his face. “What the fuck?” Kiyoomi says, pushing the rather big and strong dog off of him. He kneels to calm the dog, keeping a steady hand on its chest to stop it from jumping on him again. He gets a better look at the panting animal, which seems to be a white and tan Siberian Husky. There’s no collar and Kiyoomi would remember an animal like this around the neighborhood. It’s beautiful and well taken care of, so it obviously belongs to someone.
“Volley! Come here, girl!”
The husky takes off, running towards the owner of the voice coming from the side of Kiyoomi’s house. The first thing that Kiyoomi thinks is damn because the man walking towards him is beautiful. Platinum blonde hair, legs that belong to a professional athlete, and a smile so bright that Kiyoomi feels a little blinded. Or maybe that’s just the sun behind the man.
“Hi! I’m sorry about my dog. She slipped out of her collar and I only just now noticed she was missing.”
Kiyoomi straightens himself back up as he watches the man (god?) click the collar back on her neck with a leash attached. It takes a few seconds for Kiyoomi to find words. “It’s no problem. I just wasn’t expecting to get attacked as I was leaving my house.”
“Sorry again! I’m Atsumu Miya, by the way. Just moved in next door.” The man (god?), Atsumu, holds out his hand. Kiyoomi takes it hesitantly.
“Kiyoomi Sakusa. Nice to meet you.”
Atsumu smiles, then whistles at his dog. She falls into step as they jog across Kiyoomi’s lawn and into their own. Atsumu turns to give him a small wave before walking into his garage, yelling something into his house. Kiyoomi flinches because, of course, his next-door neighbor is hot, but the loud and obnoxious trumps it.
By the time Kiyoomi gets home, the sun is starting to set. There’s a familiar car in his driveway, and a pair of equally familiar shoes pushed neatly to the side when he comes through the front door. “ Akaashi-kun,” Kiyoomi coos into his house. He sees his best friend poke his head from around the corner with a scrunched-up nose. “Don’t call me that. I hate when you do that. It’s gross.”
“I’m just being polite, Akaashi-Kun,” Kiyoomi says, dumping his bag on the bar stool. Keiji rolls his eyes before opening the fridge.
“How was your day? Did you study much?” Kiyoomi opens his mouth to speak when a yell and a few barks take over the silence. “They’ve been yelling since I got here. Sounds like they’re in the backyard.”
Kiyoomi sighs, “I haven’t gotten much done. They’ve been yelling since around eight in the morning, so I left to get some errands done. Stopped by my mom’s to see Junri.”
“Did she get onto you for not studying? That’s the reason she took her in the first place.”
He watches as Keiji takes out some leftover rice and a bag of frozen vegetables. “Yeah, but I know she never minds taking her. She’s keeping her all week until the day before school starts anyway. I just want to be prepared for the surgery tomorrow and I can’t concentrate.”
Kiyoomi knows he’s not performing the surgery tomorrow, but being able to accompany the head neurosurgeon while he conducts a tumor removal is something most first-year residency students don’t get to do. He wants to be prepared and know exactly what’s happening, and can answer any question slung his way.
“Have you met them yet?”
“Them?” Kiyoomi questions Keiji as he starts frying the rice and vegetables together.
“Yeah, them. There was a group of like five people outside when I pulled in, and two of them introduced themselves to me as the new neighbors. Osamu and Atsumu Miya. They look identical. It was weird. One of them was extremely hot, though.”
“Atsumu.”
“Osamu.”
Keiji turns around, eyebrows raised at Kiyoomi, “You think the blonde is hot?”
“I met him earlier today! His dog jumped on me. He was all muscle and smiles and— Shut up. I didn’t even know there were two.”
Keiji chuckles, “They invited us to a barbeque this weekend. Apparently, they’re inviting a ton of friends and then the neighbors.”
“There’s no way they’ll get along with the people of this neighborhood.”
“I don’t know, Sakusa-kun, they were very polite and charming,” Keiji says, setting a bowl of fried rice in front of him, “I think they’ll have the neighborhood wrapped around their fingers.”
“But they’re loud. This neighborhood is quiet.”
“Because most of the kids are teenagers and their parents are rich, so they’re gone half the time on ridiculous trips. Junri is the only small child here. Which is weird because there’s a whole fucking school system in this gated community you live in. I still can’t believe you decided to live here.”
Kiyoomi shrugs, taking a big bite of his rice. It took a lot of thought to decide if he wanted to buy a house a year ago. But when he got his residency at the hospital twenty minutes away, and there was a safe community with a school system, Kiyoomi couldn’t pass it up. He’s always been well off. With both his parents in the medical field and all the years of medical school paid off by their parents, they could easily put all three kids through whatever schooling they wanted. That gave Kiyoomi reason enough to save all of his allowances. Because why use your own money when your mother would dish out thousands of yen when you wanted those limited edition volleyball shoes?
Kiyoomi knew he was a rich kid, and he embraced it. That’s how he can afford a nice house in a gated community.
“You just hate it because you have to drive across town to get here.”
“Well, yeah. But there’s no way in hell I’m having my apartment be the hangout spot for our group. It’s so small,” Keiji says. He scoops the last few bites of rice into his mouth and sets the dirty plate in the dishwasher as Kiyoomi stares down at his still half-full plate.
“You could get a bigger place. Or just move back in with me.”
“Hell no,” Keiji says, “That’s a thirty-minute drive to the university and to my office.”
“You’re insufferable,” Kiyoomi mumbles. He stands up, sliding his plate to Keiji, who looks giddy at the rice still available to him. “Now shut up so I can study.”
Keiji gives him a salute as Kiyoomi moves back to the kitchen table that still has all his papers strewn about. He hears Keiji rummage around his kitchen before the dishwasher starts, the low hum drowning out the excessive yelling next door.
Kiyoomi gets back home from standing for twelve hours on his feet to his best friend at his front door, talking to two men.
“Ah, there you are, Kiyo. Remember the barbeque I told you about yesterday? The Miyas are here to invite us over.”
“No, thanks,” Kiyoomi says, not sparing a glance at any of them as he squeezes past Keiji. All he wanted to do was throw his white coat and scrubs in the wash and take a nice hot bath.
“You should come!”
Kiyoomi looks over Keiji’s shoulder, getting a good look at the men in front of him, identical except for the hair. One has brown hair and a soft smile, while the other is extremely familiar. “So you’re both the Miya’s that Keiji was telling me about yesterday.”
“That’s us. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Osamu. Apparently, you met Atsumu and our dog, Volley, yesterday.”
Kiyoomi slides his gaze from the brunette back to the blonde, who looks a little sheepish from the reminder. “Yeah. I did.”
“Kiyoomi, apparently they’re friends with Koutarou. He’ll be there tonight.”
He does a double-take, looking at Keiji with wide eyes, “Bokuto? Your Bokuto?”
Keiji rolls his eyes, “He’s not mine.”
“He sure as hell isn’t mine,” Kiyoomi scoffs, “I’m not the one who invites him to game night.”
“Kiyo, he’s my best- well, one of my best friends. You love him.”
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes and starts to walk away from the conversation. “Sure. Let me take a shower and change out of my scrubs. I’ll go over for a few hours.”
He hears one of them cheer, and he kind of hopes it’s Atsumu.
Kiyoomi regrets it.
The large house and backyard is filled with almost everyone from his street, and somehow the twins know the city’s entire professional volleyball team.
“Agaashi!”
“Oh god,” Kiyoomi mutters. As soon as they step through the door, both he and Keiji are enveloped by bulky arms.
“I was excited when Tsum Tsum said his neighbor was coming! Because I knew that neighbor was Omi, and then Akaashi would be here too!” Bokuto backs a few steps away, letting his arms fall away from both of them. “I wanted to come help them move in yesterday, but practice ran late.”
“Omi?” Kiyoomi turns to see Atsumu standing with beers in hand. “Is that what people call ya?” Atsumu hands both beers to them, Kiyoomi takes his gratefully, ready to drink more than he probably should.
“No.”
“What about Omi Omi?”
“Omi Omi! That’s a new one!”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Kiyoomi turns around to see none other than his cousin, Komori Motoya, standing in the basically empty living room.
“Kiyo, what a surprise when I found out that one of my friends moved right next to you!” Komori says.
“Please tell me this is some kind of dream,” Kiyoomi says. “No, a nightmare. This is a nightmare.”
“I paid for our brunch last week, and you’re calling me a nightmare?”
Kiyoomi glares at his cousin and takes a long swig of the cold beer in his hands. It tastes gross, but any alcohol is better than no alcohol at this point.
“Anyway, your mom told me you had a surgery today? How did it go?”
Kiyoomi sighs but is happy to tell him that it went well, but he was only there to observe and answer questions the other head neurosurgeon asked him. Kiyoomi was well prepared, and he hoped he left a good impression on the man because if he can sit in on more surgeries, that gives him a one-up on others in his residency.
Komori is soon pulled away by a few of his teammates, including Bokuto, to talk about their game coming up. Kiyoomi feels relieved as he walks through the house full of people but empty of any personal belongings. Which makes sense because they moved in yesterday and are already having a cookout.
Kiyoomi sees Keiji sitting at the breakfast bar that is almost identical to Kiyoomi’s, munching on onigiri and talking to Osamu, who seems to be enjoying that Akaashi is enjoying the food, so Kiyoomi continues to the backyard. There are tons of fairy lights all over the patio, giving the backyard a great atmosphere. The smell of the grill and the low hum of the few people in the back help Kiyoomi feel at ease. He looks over to his dark house and frowns. Maybe he should get some fairy lights for his patio, too.
“Already wanting to go back?”
Kiyoomi turns to see Atsumu grilling with a kiss the chef apron on. Kiyoomi can’t help but snort at it. Atsumu looks down at his apron and gives a sly grin, “What? It’s a great apron.”
“Yeah, for a forty-year-old dad maybe,” Kiyoomi says. He walks over to lean against the brick wall next to the grill, and, not letting his gaze wander over the man, he turns to the cloudy night sky.
“So Omi-”
“Don’t call me that.”
“But Bokkun called you that!”
Kiyoomi raises his eyebrows in question, “And?”
Atsumu flips the burgers, the sizzle and smoke filling Kiyoomi’s senses. “Anyway, Omi Omi. Let’s get to know each other.”
Kiyoomi can’t help but snort.
“What? I just want to get to know my neighbor! I want to be neighborly. Have cookouts and whatever.”
“I don’t have a lot of time for cookouts, Miya.”
Atsumu gives him a look, “What do ya do? Are ya a doctor?”
“I’m in my first year of residency to become a neurosurgeon.”
Kiyoomi smirks as Atsumu’s jaw drops, “Seriously? And you came to this cookout?”
“More like I was dragged. I had a long day. Fifteen hours of work and I spent a lot of it in the surgery room.”
“Go home. What the fuck.”
Kiyoomi waves him off and takes another swig of his almost empty beer. “I’m fine. I usually only get around five or six hours of sleep a night anyway. I can sleep at the hospital if I get too tired.”
“I live next to a doctor. Who knew.”
“You moved into this neighborhood, and you weren’t expecting to meet doctors? Or lawyers?”
Atsumu shrugs as he takes the patties off of the grill, putting them on a large silver platter. “Yeah, it makes sense. But one close to my age? It’s weird.”
“I am almost thirty.”
Atsumu stops mid-way to pick up a patty, “What?”
“Well, I mean. Twenty-six, but still.”
Atsumu scrunches his nose and turns fully towards Kiyoomi, “When someone says ‘I’m almost thirty, that usually means they’re twenty-nine!”
Kiyoomi shrugs, “I don’t know, I am almost thirty. I’m closer to thirty than I was when I was twenty.”
“Seriously?” Atsumu says, “That-”
“‘Tsumu, if you’re burning those patties, I’ll never let ya grill again!”
Kiyoomi turns to the open window that shows the kitchen and sees Keiji leaning on his elbow as he smirks at Kiyoomi. Osamu is behind him, still working on rice balls from earlier.
“Ah, fuck,” Atsumu says, turning back to the few blackened pieces of patty on the grill.
“I hope some people like charcoal as food,” Kiyoomi says.
All Atsumu does is give Kiyoomi a glare before moving past him and heading to the kitchen, where Osamu slaps his brother on the back of the head. Kiyoomi can’t keep back a snort as he watches the two bicker.
A week later, Kiyoomi is running around the city, picking up all the groceries and items he left until the last minute. He used to not be like this. He used to keep things perfect and always stocked, but things are way different when you have a kid.
Of course, Keiji is already in his house when he gets back from the grocery store. His feet are up on the coffee table, and Kiyoomi scowls at him until Keiji slowly sets his feet down.
“If you were going to come over, you could have helped me with all of this,” Kiyoomi huffs, setting the bags down on the kitchen counters.
“I was with my professor all day going over my dissertation. I’m tired, Kiyo.”
Kiyoomi doesn’t snap at how he worked twenty-four hours in the past two days, even though he really wants to. He knows writing a dissertation is hard and excruciating. He knows the pain Keiji is going through, and honestly, he should sit down and kick his feet up once in a while.
“Help me put these away?”
Keiji jumps up, grabbing a few bags and moving to the pantry. “When is your mother coming by?”
Kiyoomi looks at the clock on the stove, which is never the right time, before pulling out his phone. “Soon. She apparently has a date tonight, so she wanted to drop Junri off sooner rather than later.”
“Ooooh, Mrs. Sakusa has a date?”
“Yes, she does. But the more important part is, Junri is coming back, and I’ve been without her for a week, and she literally starts school tomorrow, and I’m kind of freaking out.”
Keiji snorts from the pantry and Kiyoomi can’t help but laugh at himself a little as well. He’s been a wild mess today. Something about his daughter starting school makes him want to curl up in a ball and cry.
“Junri is a great girl. She’ll do great in school. She has a neurosurgeon as a dad.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about, Keiji! What if she doesn’t make friends? What if they bully her because her hair is too curly? Or, god forbid, she’s the bully? What do I do then? Mh?”
There’s some rustling as Keiji puts the many bags of single-serving chips into the box Kiyoomi uses to organize his pantry. “I doubt she will be. But kids are bitches, and I would expect to have her come home dozens of times in tears because of other kids.”
Kiyoomi groans, “That doesn’t help!”
There’s a knock on the front door, and then it slams open with a high-pitched scream and a “Hello, my beautiful son!”
His thighs are attacked by a ball of frizzy hair and limbs. “Daddy!”
Kiyoomi scoops his little girl into a bear hug, holding her as close as humanly possible to him without squeezing her to death. He sits her on the kitchen counter, moving her pitch-black hair out of her face, “Hi, Junri. How was grandma’s?”
“It was great! We went to the salon and got our nails done and-”
As Junri goes into the telling of her time away, all three of the adults listen intently as the five-year-old goes on and on about her week with grandma. Sometimes she repeats the same story twice in a row, but all they do is smile and comment on her stories. When she’s almost out of breath, and her attention span has faded from talking, she grabs onto Kiyoomi so he can let her down.
“How about you go unpack your bag and I’ll be in there soon to help?” Kiyoomi says, handing her the purple bag with butterflies on it.
“Okay!” she says, skipping to her room in the back of the house.
Kiyoomi turns his glare on his mother. The amount of ice cream and sweets mentioned in her stories was something to talk about, but Mrs. Sakusa just flaunts her way over to Keiji and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “My sweet Keiji, how are you? How’s your dissertation? Any new lovers?”
Keiji laughs, wrapping an arm around her and giving a hug, “No, Mrs. S. No new lovers. I’m doing good, and my dissertation is kicking my ass.”
“Make sure you’re eating enough. You’re almost as thin as Kiyoomi. Which, by the way, have you eaten today? Look at your cheekbones! They’re all sunken in!” She moves on to her son next, grabbing his cheeks and turning his head side to side, making tsking sounds as she looks him up and down.
“I’m fine, mother. I just had a long past few days at the hospital. I needed to put in a few more hours so I could get off early tomorrow to pick up Junri from school.”
“Don’t wear yourself out, Kiyoomi. You know I will never mind watching her.”
Kiyoomi turns back to the fridge, sticking a few more juice pouches in it before shutting the door. “Yes, but it’s her first day. I want to be the one to drop her off and pick her up. It’s important. To both of us.”
“I know, honey.”
“But besides that, will you pick her up on Thursday? Keiji can’t.”
She nods, “Of course. Who all is allowed to pick her up?”
“I put you, Keiji, and Komori. I don’t think I need to add anyone else, right?”
Mrs. Sakusa shakes her head. “That sounds good. That gives us a wide range of who can pick her up.” She looks at Kiyoomi, eyes a little softer. “Are you sure you can do this, Kiyoomi? I have full faith in you, but I don’t want you to run yourself into the ground.”
“Of course, Mom. I’ve been raising her for five years now. We have an amazing support system, and I couldn’t be more grateful to all of you. It’ll be hard for a while, but Junri and I will find a groove. We always do.”
Mrs. Sakusa is about to say something when Junri comes out of her room, “I put all my clothes in the hamper!”
“Were they all dirty?” he asks, turning to her.
“Yep!”
Kiyoomi turns to his mother, and she shakes her head slightly, but if what Junri said was true, they’re all dirty now. He walks over to her, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. “Good job, Junri! What do you want to do now?”
“I wanna play outside! But you and Uncle’ Kaashi have to go outside with me.”
Kiyoomi looks at Keiji, who is smiling fondly at them, “Sounds like a great night, Jun.”
So Kiyoomi slathers sunscreen on Junri and himself before tossing the bottle to Keiji as he opens the back door, letting the girl take off towards her small jungle gym in the backyard. His mother kisses both their cheeks, waving at her granddaughter and slipping out the front door before Keiji and Kiyoomi can say goodbye. Keiji and Kiyoomi make their way outside, sitting under the patio protection from the sun as Kiyoomi’s little girl makes her own fun by running around her jungle gym that his mother bought her for her recent fifth birthday.
“Children need to run around, Kiyoomi. You’ll thank me later.”
“I’ll be sticking you with the hospital bill when she breaks an arm,” he mumbled.
“Dad! Dad, the ice cream truck! I can hear it! Please, please, I want ice cream!”
Kiyoomi panics slightly as he hears the music start to fade, so he pushes his drink to Keiji and makes a run for it, slipping on the kitchen tile as he grabs his wallet from the bar. “Bring me back a cone!” Keiji yells after him.
Kiyoomi curses Keiji in his head before bolting out the door and down the street, waving his arms to try to catch the truck before it turns. When he catches up to it, he’s out of breath. The cool air from inside the truck hits him in the face as he orders one of those ugly Spongebob popsicles with the gumball eyes and a Drumstick. All summer, he has somehow missed the ice cream truck, upsetting Junri every time, but this success makes running after the truck in the sticky heat worth it. He thanks the man and jogs the block back to his house. The humidity makes his clothes damp, and all Kiyoomi wants to do is go inside and take a nice cool shower.
“Didn’t know ya liked ice cream that much.”
Kiyoomi stops, hoping it’s the less annoying twin, but the fact that Kiyoomi can tell otherwise annoys him. “I don’t.”
When Kiyoomi turns to him, Atsumu raises his eyebrows. He looks like he just got back from a run. His shorts cling to him, and Kiyoomi tries to keep his eyes above the belt but can’t help to look a little. If Atsumu notices, he doesn’t say a word, “Then why run like a maniac down the road if you don’t like ice cream? Or just buy ice cream at the store?”
“For the experience.”
“The experience? Eating trashy ice cream when you don’t like it is an experience?” Kiyoomi just shrugs and jogs up to his front door. “Next time, Omi Omi, can you get me an orange creamsicle?”
Kiyoomi shoots Atsumu a glare before stepping back into his air conditioning, but that doesn’t last long because he’s through the house and in his backyard, where Keiji is pushing Junri on a swing.
“Junri,” Keiji says in a sing-song voice, “look who’s back.”
Kiyoomi watches as her eyes light up and she starts twisting in the swing. Keiji catches and stops her momentum, letting her jump off. She makes grabby hands towards Kiyoomi as he starts unwrapping the ice cream. “Please, please, please,” she says.
Kiyoomi takes off the gumballs before handing her the stick. “Thank you!” She screams a little too loud, but Kiyoomi just laughs, giving her a you’re welcome as she sits on the patio ground. He tosses the Drumstick to Keiji, who catches it easily, sitting on the loveseat beside Kiyoomi. “Why won’t you unwrap mine?”
“Shut up,” Kiyoomi says, “I saw Miya on my way back.”
“Which one? The cute one?”
Kiyoomi raises his eyebrows at that, “The cute one?”
Keiji takes a bite of his ice cream, and Kiyoomi shivers at the action. “Brown hair, gray eyes, always wears a baseball hat with an onigiri symbol on it-”
“And you think he’s cute?”
Keiji shrugs, taking another bite of his ice cream, “I mean, yeah. You can’t tell me you don’t think Atsumu is hot.”
“I will never say that,” Kiyoomi says, huffing a little.
Keiji laughs. “I’ve known you too long, Kiyoomi. We basically raised a baby together. I know you’re thinking it.”
Kiyoomi can’t help but think Miya is hot. He has eyes. He’s not insane. Miya stays in shape, and Kiyoomi has seen him and his brother running their dog multiple times since they moved next door. But he won’t just admit that. He won’t let anyone have the satisfaction that Miya is one of the most attractive men he’s ever seen with his dark undercut and platinum blonde hair and those thighs-
“Mh, looks like you’re drooling a little, Kiyo. Are you daydreaming of something tasty?”
Kiyoomi grabs the pillow behind him, smacking Keiji a few times while he holds out his ice cream. “I get it! I’m sorry! You’re going to make me drop my ice cream!”
“Uncle ‘Kaashi, if dad makes you drop yours, make him run after the truck again,” Junri says.
Kiyoomi stops his assault. “Who’s side are you on, Jun?”
“It’s not nice to bully, Dad.”
“Yeah, Dad. It’s not nice to bully,” Keiji repeats, and it takes all of Kiyoomi’s willpower not to pummel his best friend again.