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Miya Atsumu really did not know why everybody seemed to be so convinced in him being a massive dick.
Actually, that was a lie. He may have a small inkling - an intuition, perhaps - as to how members of the general public could, maybe, in a way, if they squinted, somehow percieve him in a broad vein vaguely similar to the aforementioned manner, and Atsumu did know that it might - might - have something to do with his overall personality, compulsive lying, and, well, typically dick-like behavior.
But really. Atsumu wasn’t that bad. Or, at least, if he really was that bad, being that bad couldn’t really actually be all that bad, could it?
See, it wasn’t like he hadn’t given Sakusa plenty of chances to walk away. To turn back. To not enter the cave whose mouth was plastered with a huge blinking red sign: WARNING: HIGH CHANCES OF DICK-LIKE BEHAVIOR LAY AHEAD. ADVANCE AT YOUR OWN RISK.
No, Atsumu had made sure to double-check, to give Sakusa multiple exit routes. The spiker had definitely been sufficiently alerted.
So really - really - how bad could Atsumu actually be?
It was Sakusa, after all, who hadn’t left. It was Sakusa, after all, who hadn’t heeded the sign, for it was Sakusa, after all, who had instead chosen to plunge straight first into douche bag land.
And Atsumu had done his duty. He had given Sakusa multiple heads-up.
In fact, the first time Atsumu did so was at their very first meeting.
“Hey,” the setter said as he stepped into the MSBY Jackals gym, dropping his sports bag down onto the ground. He glanced around the large room surreptitiously, but it seemed that most of his new team had already started warming up. “Do ya know where we’re supposed to put our stuff?”
The man standing near him slowly pulled the water bottle he had been drinking from down away from his face, pausing to brush a couple of his dark curls back behind his ear as he did so. Atsumu watched his new teammate give him a cursory once-over, the tips of the setter’s lips turning upwards in a small smile. He knew who this was - the man was a professional volleyball player, after all; of course Atsumu knew who this was - and so the blonde also knew that he was good. Like, really good.
Atsumu’s eyes nearly brightened just thinking about it. One of the league’s top spikers, paired with his sets, his unstoppable sets; it must be fate, really, seeing as how, even individually, Atsumu was already pretty unstoppable, if he did say so himself, but together, well. Together they’d be practically-
“Oh,” said Sakusa Kiyoomi, slipping his mask back on and turning away. “I thought they were signing on Kageyama.”
Atsumu’s jaw dropped. This little bitch. “Excuse me?” he sputtered. Scoffing, he raised an eyebrow. “Would ya seriously rather have Mr. Goody-Tissues?”
But the spiker only shrugged as he began to walk away towards where the rest of the players had started stretching. “Just don’t mess up,” he said over his shoulder, and Atsumu couldn’t hold back a scoff.
“If you’re unhappy,” the setter called out to Sakusa’s back, “you could always just leave, y’know. Believe it or not, you’re not the only one round here who can hit a ball.”
Atsumu crossed his arms. There. His first warning. This way, Sakusa could always get out now, before the dick-like personality really kicked in. Before they had the chance to work together and become-
“Just don’t mess up,” Sakusa repeated, and Atsumu smiled.
Okay then. Pausing to crack his neck, the setter started forward after him towards where the rest of the team had begun warming up. Let’s do this.
#
Atsumu gave the next warning a couple of months later. It was the night after his first game with the new team, and the setter had played pretty well. His serves could have used some work, but it was the start of the season - that was to be expected. He wasn’t upset about it.
Okay so that was also a lie. Atsumu may have been a tiny bit upset about it. But not in a way that was overly critical or petty or obsessive or-
Well fine, alright, maybe it was a little bit of all of the above. But Atsumu really wasn’t thinking about the game - instead, he had decided to stretch out on his bed and focus the entirety of his perhaps a bit too overly critical, petty, and obsessive attention onto scrolling through his Twitter feed.
Distracting himself was actually going pretty well. Some cat had figured out how to play the guitar - which good for it, Atsumu thought; it was a step up from the piano, at the very least - and then some setter in Argentina was trying to make “phuck” a thing, which - Atsumu snorted - okay. A valiant effort, perhaps. Shaking his head, the blonde continued to scroll past. And oh, look, there was somebody-
But then his finger paused, and Atsumu frowned, because now he practically had no choice but to think about it since there it was, glaring up at him on his timeline.
Some news agency had posted an article about their game, the headline entitled: New MSBY Setter’s Supposedly “Infamous” Serves Just Undeserved Hype?
Atsumu frowned at his screen. Now the issue wasn’t the article, per se. He was a professional volleyball player, after all - he was used to bad press. He knew how to deal with it. Criticism had always been expected.
What Atsumu had not expected, however, was that criticism to be amplified by his own goddamn teammate.
Atsumu stared at the handle who had retweeted the sports commentator’s original post, and a pair of unflinching dark eyes stared back at him from the account’s profile picture. Sakusa Kiyoomi.
The spiker didn’t even use Twitter that much. This was literally the first thing the guy had done on the platform in over a month.
The setter’s eyes narrowed. That goddamn little bitch.
Before he was even fully aware of what he was doing, Atsumu’s fingers had already started to type out his own tweet. He pressed his lips together firmly, screenshotting Sakusa’s retweet and attaching the image to his own.
Then, pausing, Atsumu’s finger hovered over the send button.
Miya Atsumu @nottheonigirione | 9:47 pm
@skiyoomi do ya really wanna start this with me? cuz ngl, i can’t see it ending well for ya
Now technically-speaking, Atsumu knew what he should do. Technically-speaking, he knew that anybody even remotely versed in PR would tell him that he shouldn’t respond publicly, that he should instead settle things in private, before they had the chance to spiral out of control. It was what any mature, polite, rational adult would do, after all, and Atsumu knew he was all of those things.
Exhaling, the setter squared his jaw. Actually, that one was also a lie. He didn’t know shit about him being any of that.
Phuck it, Atsumu thought, and then he pressed send.
Clicking his phone off, the blonde let it drop down to his side. There. Another warning. In public, this time, so there were extra witnesses as proof.
Atsumu swung his legs off of the bed and stood up. Knowing Sakusa’s social media habits, he probably wouldn’t even bother to open up the app for another month, and by then, it’d already be well-established that Atsumu had won. That the setter had succeeded in making Sakusa Kiyoomi back down, with the entire Internet bearing testimony.
Smirking, Atsumu switched on the television. There. He’d done it. Sakusa Kiyoomi had been successfully warned off.
When the movie he started watching ended a couple of hours later, however, Atsumu picked up his phone to find that he had a new Twitter notification.
WEAR A MASK @skiyoomi | 11:15 pm
replying to @nottheonigirione
Oh, hey there. The name’s Osamu, no?
Atsumu simply stared at his screen for a long moment, his jaw hanging in disbelief. Not only had the stupid cocksucker actually replied, but Sakusa had even had the nerve - the goddamn nerve - to get more likes on his comment than there were on Atsumu’s original tweet.
Scoffing, Atsumu pulled his phone closer, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he started to type. Oh it’s on, the setter thought, right before he pressed send.
#
The third warning came a couple of weeks later. Atsumu was being interviewed for some volleyball segment of the local news, and, looking at the reporter’s bright white smile, he pulled at the tie strapped around his neck. He had never liked ties, but Osamu had went viral in some onigiri commercial for looking hot in a suit, and, well. It wasn’t that he was being petty, alright? Atsumu just couldn’t exactly allow for the Internet to think that all their family’s good suit genes were concentrated in his brother, now could he?
Okay so fine. Maybe he was being a bit petty. But, like, come on. Atsumu returned the television host’s smile with one of his own. He really did look goddamn good in a suit and tie.
“So,” the woman said, leaning forward in her chair. “Sakusa Kiyoomi.”
Atsumu had to hold back a sigh. Right. He should have seen this one coming. See, part of the issue with having the Internet bear witness to his newfound feud with his teammate was, well, the Internet bearing witness to his newfound feud with his teammate.
Actually, “feud” might have been too strong of a term. After all, could spending two weeks trading semi-agressive tweets about whose last service ace had been more impressive really be considered a full-on feud?
Atsumu thought back to their last exchange.
Miya ATSUMU, people, my name is ATSUMU @nottheonigirione | 7:38 am
@satorimadethis well hello there, objective third party. so, like, in your objective third party opinion, which is better - eight service aces in a game or six?
WEAR A MASK @skiyoomi | 9:24 am
replying to @nottheonigirione and @satorimadethis
No. You do not get to bring Wakatoshi-kun into this.
Miya ATSUMU, people, my name is ATSUMU @nottheonigirione | 10:35 am
replying to @skiyoomi and @satorimadethis
oh? scared yer gonna lose?
WEAR A MASK @skiyoomi | 12:14 pm
replying to @nottheonigirione and @satorimadethis
Miya, you are a child. Wakatoshi-kun, you have my sincerest apologies for my immature teammate dragging you into his antics. I did not wish for this.
Miya ATSUMU, people, my name is ATSUMU @nottheonigirione | 1:53 pm
replying to @skiyoomi and @satorimadethis
kinda like how you wished those other two serves would go in too, huh…
Hello, this is Ushijima Wakatoshi’s Twitter @satorimadethis | 3:17 pm
replying to @skiyoomi and @ nottheonigirione
Good afternoon, Miya-san, and thank you, Sakusa-san. I hope you are both doing well.
Miya ATSUMU, people, my name is ATSUMU @nottheonigirione | 4:28 pm
replying to @skiyoomi and @satorimadethis
HA! he said my name first, sucker
WEAR A MASK @skiyoomi | 5:11 pm
replying to @nottheonigirione and @satorimadethis
I repeat: Miya, you are a child. Wakatoshi-kun, you have my sincerest apologies for my immature teammate dragging you into his antics. Seriously. His age is truly astounding.
8 > 6 @nottheonigirione | 5:39 pm
replying to @skiyoomi and @satorimadethis
so i’m astounding? jfkdsl awwww
Hello, this is Ushijima Wakatoshi’s Twitter @satorimadethis | 6:02 pm
replying to @skiyoomi and @ nottheonigirione
I do not think that is what he meant, Miya-san.
WEAR A MASK @skiyoomi | 6:49 pm
replying to @nottheonigirione and @satorimadethis
^ The objective third party speaks the truth
Atsumu shifted his tie. Okay so maybe it kind of was a feud. But it wasn’t like things were more tense between them in practice because of it - though, truth be told, that may have more to do with the fact that even before this whole thing started, Sakusa had barely interacted with him above the bare minimum required. (I’m open, Miya and higher next time and I didn’t mean that high seemed to be his exclusive modes of in-person communication.)
But really, were their Twitter exchanges interesting enough to be asked about them on live television?
The interviewer’s smile grew, and Atsumu let out an exhale. Yeah. So apparently they were.
“Sakusa just did an interview with one of my colleagues a couple of hours ago,” she continued. Atsumu nodded - that made sense; the PR team had had all of the players doing some publicity rounds recently. “We’d actually like to play you a little clip of that right now, if you don’t mind.”
Atsumu smiled. “Go ahead,” he answered, and the woman’s eyes gleamed.
“Great,” she said as the screen behind her flickered to life with an image of Sakusa’s pixelated face. His mask seemed extra white underneath the studio’s bright lighting - which, Atsumu thought, seemed unfair because he could not think of any other volleyball player who they would allow to wear a mask while being interviewed. (Actually, that was a lie - Atsumu knew they would probably let Bokuto do so too, if he wanted, because he was, well, Bokuto. As long as it was on camera, anybody would let Bokuto do anything, practically, but Atsumu was absolutely not above ignoring this inconvenient fact for the sake of the hyperbole.)
Atsumu did, however, note with a touch of satisfaction that Sakusa looked incredibly stiff in his own suit and tie. The spiker’s posture was ramrod straight, his shoulders rigid, and, smirking, Atsumu allowed himself to relax even more so into a languid man-spread atop his own seat. Ha. My win.
The onscreen interviewer shot Sakusa a little smile. “I’m sure you know that your Twitter exchanges with setter Miya Atsumu have been garnering much attention from MSBY fans online,” they began. “Our viewers would love to know if you had a comment on the situation.”
Sakusa’s gaze, however, never faltered. “I’d prefer not to speak about him, actually,” he said, his voice flat. Atsumu narrowed his eyes. The spiker sounded way too bored and dismissive for somebody who had responded to each of the blonde’s taunts with his own. “Encouraging his little games tends to hurt team cohesion.”
The video paused on a shot of Sakusa’s unchanged expression, and Atsumu grit his teeth. Team cohesion? My little games? God. What a motherfucker.
“Care to comment?” the interviewer asked, and as Atsumu turned his gaze back towards her, he could almost see the cave’s big red sign blinking even brighter.
WARNING, it declared. HIGH CHANCES OF DICK-LIKE BEHAVIOR LAY AHEAD. ADVANCE AT YOUR OWN RISK.
Atsumu tilted his head, turning to look straight into the camera as he shot the world his most charming, teeth-glimmering smile. “Team cohesion, huh?” he said, laughing lightly. “Well if you’re so worried about it, y’know, maybe you could just, like, be social. With anybody. At any point in time. Ever.” He stopped, raising an eyebrow. The interviewer looked positively delighted. “Or,” Atsumu continued after a brief pause, “if that’s too much for ya, you could also just, well. Sit down and stay quiet.” He made his smile even brighter. “That second one sounds good to me, too.”
Leaning back in his seat, Atsumu let his smile turn into a crooked smirk. Now that was a warning. A very public, very clear so you think you can out-asshole me? Please. I could out-dickhead you in my sleep warning broadcasted live on national television.
Or, at least, Atsumu had thought that it was a pretty solid warning in the moment. It began to seem significantly less impressive, however, only a couple of hours later, after the interview had ended, when his phone started blowing up with Instagram notifications.
Frowning, Atsumu opened up the app. He had been tagged in some viral post, it seemed. Probably Osamu, in another suit - god, it would be so in character for him to tag Atsumu just so that the setter’s phone pinged everytime anybody commented something that thirsted over the way his brother’s chest looked in a tie. Maybe I should also-
But then Atsumu stopped, just staring at the actual post. It wasn’t from Osamu’s account.
No, this post was from Sakusa’s.
His eyebrows furrowing, Atsumu clicked on the picture. It wasn’t only him who had been tagged, for practically all of the Jackals had also been, it seemed. The image was a selfie, and the way Sakusa’s arm stretched underneath the camera clearly indicated that he was the one to take it. As always, his mask still covered the bottom half of his face, but behind the spiker, the rest of the team could be seen smiling for the photo: Hinata hanging off of Bokuto’s shoulders, Inunaki sticking out his tongue, and even Meian grinning.
The rest of the team, that is, except for Atsumu.
His eyes narrowing, the setter zoomed in on the picture. From the greenery in the background, it seemed like this was taken while in a public park of some sorts, and since Atsumu doubted that Sakusa wore a suit on a regular basis, it was probably taken today, too, sometime around the interview.
This social enough for you, Miya? read the caption.
Atsumu stared down at the text with furrowed eyebrows. Wait. The blonde couldn’t even remember Sakusa having an Instagram account before today. Atsumu paused, clicking on the spiker’s handle to see his profile.
Yup. Just as he thought. That was Sakusa’s first post.
Atsumu leaned back, tilting his head. Huh. Had Sakusa really made an account just to be an asshole to Atsumu on multiple different social media platforms?
Honestly, if he hadn’t been the target, the setter may have been a bit impressed.
(Also a lie. How it stood at the moment, Miya Atsumu was, definitely, at least a bit impressed. After all, he wasn’t so self-centered as to not be able to appreciate a fellow dickhead’s commitment to dickheadiness.)
And so, smirking, Atsumu started to type out a reply in the comments. close, but no cigar. seems you’re missing a critical member
Sakusa’s response came in around half an hour later. Really? Who? the comment read simply.
Snorting, Atsumu let the phone drop down to his side, closing his eyes. Not bad, he thought. Not too bad at all.
In fact, his nationally televised warning only continued to seem even more feeble the next day, after practice.
“Hey,” a voice said from above him.
Atsumu, however, didn’t even look up from where he was sitting with his back leaned up against the wall, his attention instead focused solely on the water bottle lifted to his mouth as he gratefully took some large gulps. “Hey,” he answered after a moment, wiping his lips and letting the drink drop back down to his side.
When the setter did finally glance up at the voice’s owner, however, Atsumu nearly choked on the water that he had already swallowed, which, technically-speaking, at least, shouldn’t have been possible, and yet. “Um?” the setter managed, quickly looking around to make sure he hadn’t missed an apocalypse. “Did something happen?”
Sakusa Kiyoomi only frowned down at him in response. Actually, strictly-speaking, at least, Atsumu had no way of knowing whether or not Sakusa was frowning at him, seeing as the mask still covered the spiker’s lips. Still, from the way those dark eyes were looking at him, the setter felt it was pretty safe to say that Sakusa’s mouth was tilted downwards in a frown.
“No,” Sakusa said, shoving his arms deep into his hoodie’s pockets. His voice was unamused. “I’m just saying hi.”
“Oh. Okay.” Atsumu paused before lifting his hand up in a little wave. “Hi then, I guess.”
Sakusa’s eyes remained very frown-y. “Hi,” he replied.
An uncomfortable silence fell between them. After a long moment passed by - during which Sakusa still, inexplicably enough, didn’t move from his position towering over him - Atsumu tried to force out a little awkward laugh. “Well I suppose congratulations are in order,” he said, “now that your goal has been accomplished.”
“Ha.” (Sakusa’s eyes didn’t indicate that he was in anything remotely resembling a “ha” mood.)
Atsumu glanced around. “So are you just going to continue standing there,” he started, “or…?”
But Sakusa still didn’t move. “I’m just following your advice,” he answered simply.
“My advice?” Atsumu raised an eyebrow. Had he ever given Sakusa any non-volleyball-related advice? He tried to quickly run through a list of their last in-person interactions. (Yes, I can see that you’re open, y’know and fine, I’ll do it higher then and too high? that’s literally what you said you wanted!)
“Yeah.” Sakusa’s eyes, despite lacking lips of their own, somehow managed to convey even more of a frowning expression. “You said I should be more social.”
“Oh.” So that was it. The television interview. The tips of Atsumu’s lips turned upwards in a small smirk. “Glad to see you’ve been listening.”
Sakusa shrugged. “Don’t let it go to your head. Your shoulders look like they need enough of a break as it is.”
“Yeah?” Atsumu’s crooked smile grew wider. “I’ve been meaning to ask, actually: how’s your neck holding up? I was kinda worried, y’know, with that whole dark mop you got going on over there.”
Sakusa’s eye-frown turned into an eye-scowl. “My hair is fine.”
“Your hair? Who said anything about your hair? I only ever mentioned your neck.”
“I can read between the lines, you know.”
“Ooh, maybe you shouldn’t - might strain your eyesight.”
“Wow.” Sakusa’s forehead creased. “You really aren’t good at rewarding social behavior, are you?”
Atsumu arched an eyebrow. “What,” he said, pushing himself to his feet, “didja want a dog treat? A pat on the head?” The blonde leaned forward, and Sakusa immediately took a step back. “You’ve been a good boy, Sakusa. I’m real proud.”
The spiker narrowed his eyes at Atsumu’s smirking expression before shrugging and turning around. “Yeah well it was definitely a struggle,” he replied, walking away. “Not looking forward to repeating it anytime soon.”
Atsumu grinned. “Don’t worry,” he called out to Sakusa’s back. “I got faith in ya - just gotta push yourself outside your own comfort zone sometimes, y’know?”
Sakusa, meanwhile, didn’t even bother to respond verbally, only holding up his middle finger in reply as he pushed open the gym door and stepped outside.
Well. Leaning over to pick up his sports bag, Atsumu smiled a little to himself. So Sakusa really had decided to ignore the warning after all.
Interesting, the setter thought, watching the door swing shut behind him. Interesting.
#
The next warning came about another week later. “This question is actually for you, Miya-san,” the interviewer said, turning to face the setter. “It was submitted by one of our viewers.”
Bokuto nudged Atsumu with his elbow, and the blonde leaned forward, giving the reporter a ready smile. As part of the Jackals’ reinvigorated publicity tour, they were doing a group interview with some of the team members. Beside Atsumu sat Hinata, who grinned at the recording camera cheerfully, and beside Hinata, in the chair placed farthest from the other players, sat Sakusa, who, as usual, seemed to be in a state of both supreme disgust and boredom.
(Frankly, Atsumu kind of hated him for it. Like, seriously - somebody could not possibly be allowed to exude both this-is-such-a-drag and oh-my-god-I’m-gonna-throw-up-at-any-moment vibes at once. It was simply an unfair advantage in life and Atsumu held no qualms in despising the spiker for it.)
“Ooh, a question for me?” Atsumu shot the interviewer a smile. “Fire away.”
Glancing down at the notecard in their hand, the reporter began to read. “Miya-san,” they began, “you use nicknames or first names for every member of the team except one - Sakusa Kiyoomi. Why is that? Is it really true that you just don’t like him?”
Pausing, Atsumu shot a quick glance over at where Sakusa sat on the other side of Hinata. The spiker, however, hadn’t appeared moved by the question, his posture stilled slumped over and the expression in his dark eyes still dead. “Well,” the setter said, turning back to the interviewer. “That sounded more to me like two questions, no?” He laughed a little. “Are y’all trying to pull one on me?”
“Actually, Miya-senpai,” Hinata jumped in, “that’s kind of a good point. I mean, you call me Shouyou, and Bokuto-senpai Bokkun. Why doesn’t Sakusa-senpai get something, too?”
Bokuto started nodding vigorously. “Oh my god, wait,” he said, a smile quickly spreading across the spiker’s face. “You should so give Sakusa a nickname.”
“Yeah!” Hinata grinned. “Something really cool - like… hm…” He paused, thinking.
Sakusa, however, only sighed. “Please don’t,” he interrupted, and Atsumu smirked, turning back to Hinata.
“That’s a great idea, Shouyou,” the setter said. Sakusa shot him a glare. “How about… Usa?”
“No.” Sakusa’s answer came without hesitation.
“Usa Wusa?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Usa Wusa Busa?”
“I will literally end you.”
“Oh! Wait! I know!” Bokuto grinned, spreading his arms out wide and making jazz hands. “Ki-kun! Like, Kiyoomi, but shorter!”
Sakusa glowered at the group. “Are we really crowd-sourcing this?” he muttered.
Atsumu only beamed back at him in response. “I kind of like the first name thing, actually,” he said, “so let’s see. Kiyoomi… Ki-kun… Omi…”
“Dear god,” sighed Sakusa as he closed his eyes. (In disgust? In boredom? In both? Again: Atsumu absolutely hated him for this. Despised him, practically. It just simply wasn’t fair for the universe to give somebody as unpleasant as Sakusa Kiyoomi the power to be both at once, and Atsumu would like to sign a petition against this kind of injustice immediately.)
“Mi-kun?” Hinata offered. “Or Mi-mi?”
“Why don’t we just move on from this?” Sakusa cut in, turning to the interviewer. “Do you have any more questions for us because trust me when I say that I feel no burning need or desire to be given a nickname by Miya Atsumu.”
Smirking, the setter leaned forward to wink at the camera. “Don’t worry,” he mock stage-whispered. “Omi over here is just grumpy that he doesn’t have a nickname yet.”
“I am not,” Sakusa immediately fired back. “And when did we decide on Omi?”
“Aw, wait, that’s so cute though!” Hinata was practically bouncing in his seat. “Then you can also do things like Omi-kun, and Omi-Omi, too!”
Bokuto gasped. “Omi-Omi-Omi?”
The redhead nodded vigorously. “Omi-Omi-Omi!”
Sakusa, meanwhile, only heaved out a heavy breath. “Why do I even bother at this point,” he grumbled.
“Aw come on, you know why.” Atsumu shot him a crooked smile, and Sakusa glowered at him in return. “How else are you going to get a brilliant nickname like Omi-Omi-Omi?”
“You are incorrigible,” Sakusa shot back.
“Ooh, Omi-Omi-Omi’s big word of the day!” Atsumu clapped. “Guys, look! He’s a real grown-up and everything!”
Hinata and Bokuto joined the setter in his applause, the both of them smiling brightly, and Sakusa’s shoulders slumped even more so as he heaved out another sigh.
“I hate you all,” he muttered.
“Yeah, Sakusa! Let’s go!” Bokuto cheered.
“Hating like a champ!” Hinata whooped.
Sakusa merely exhaled deeply. “Dear god,” he mumbled, his eyelashes fluttering shut, and Atsumu found a new reason to hate him. (Like, okay. He not only got simultaneous boredom and disgust, but also long-ass, full-on doe-eyed eyelashes? A travesty. An absolutely unfair travesty of justice.)
The rest of the interview preceded pretty normally, with Hinata delivering all of his answers with a wide, gleaming smile, Bokuto’s eyes practically glinting with excitement at the attention, and Sakusa only speaking when directly addressed, remaining slouched in his chair for the rest of the time.
After the interview had finished, however, and Bokuto and Hinata walked off the set talking animatedly about a new sushi place, Atsumu lingered behind, waiting for the interviewer to nod at him and leave before he said anything.
“Hey, wait a sec,” he called out once they did to Sakusa’s back.
The spiker paused, but after a moment, he slowly turned around anyways, a suspicious expression overtaking his eyes. “What,” Sakusa said, furrowing his eyebrows as he studied Atsumu’s face.
The setter took a deep breath. “Look,” he began, “if you don’t like it, I won’t use a nickname, you hear?”
Sakusa scoffed. “Seriously?” He arched an eyebrow. “Is this some sort of attempt at chivalry?”
Atsumu let out a huff. “I’m not exactly a monster, alright? I don’t actually wanna make you uncomfortable, y’know.”
“A nickname. Seriously. That’s where you draw the line.”
Atsumu frowned. “Okay well look,” he said, crossing his arms, “do you not want one or what? ‘Cause I’m only asking this once.”
Sakusa paused, considering, and Atsumu knew the spiker recognized the question for what it was, a warning. A we-don’t-have-to-cross-this-line-if-you-don’t-want-to kind of warning, one that hung in the air between them lightly, delicately, almost as if it was scared to hover too heavily and make its presence known.
After a long moment, however, Sakusa took a deep breath, shifting his weight to the other foot. “It’s fine,” he answered. “I don’t mind Omi all that much.” He paused, re-thinking, before quickly ammending his previous statement: “As long as you never say Omi-Omi-Omi ever again.”
A small smile overtook the edges of Atsumu’s lips. “Really?” he said. “You don’t?”
Sakusa shrugged, looking off to the side with those goddamn hate-worthy eyelashes, and the setter’s small smile grew.
“Okay then.” Atsumu started to nod. “Yeah, okay. Omi. Alright. I can work with that.”
Sakusa shrugged again. “You better not make me regret this,” he added, but Atsumu only scoffed in response.
“Please, Omi.” The setter started forward, making sure to not let their shoulders brush as he passed Sakusa. “We both know you’re gonna.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Atsumu heard the spiker grumble from behind him. “Whatever.”
And, jogging to catch up with their other teammates, Atsumu’s smile grew crooked. Omi. Huh.
Maybe it was just the fact that Sakusa’s bored but disgusted expression wasn’t in his direct line of sight, or maybe it was because he didn’t have to see how unfairly long his eyelashes were, but in that brief moment, Atsumu could have almost sworn that maybe, just maybe, he hated the spiker a bit less than he usually did.
#
The fourth warning came only a few days later. Atsumu had been scrolling through the #miyaatsumu hashtag on Twitter (and yes, he did refuse to be ashamed of it because, like, come on. A guy’s gotta get validation from somewhere, no?) when his finger paused to hover over one particular tweet.
yes, i do read rpff - either sod off or sue me, it’s ur choice @pineapple.nuts212 | 12:41 a.m.
okay but seriously: the enemies to lovers potential in this tho-
#atsumumiya #sakusakiyoomi #thegreatomiconspiracy #whyisthisactuallyrealtho
Attached was a link to a YouTube video. Atsumu had to lean forward to get a better look at the thumbnail. It seemed to be a screenshot from their most recent group interview, except Hinata had been cropped out so that it was just Sakusa and Atsumu’s faces right next to each other, and red hearts had been edited in to sprinkle across the background behind the blown-up shots of their heads.
Atsumu paused. He knew he shouldn’t watch this. Everybody and their mother had told him that watching fanmade videos was always a bad idea, and especially if these were fanmade videos that showed him and another teammate plastered on a background of red hearts.
Frankly speaking, he shouldn’t even look at the video’s title. It was always a bad idea, and Atsumu knew this. He really did.
Leaning forward, Atsumu quickly read the title. SAKUSA AND ATSUMU BEING IN LOVE FOR 2 MINUTES AND 16 SECONDS STRAIGHT!!! the words beneath the video’s thumbnail proclaimed, in a large, bolded font.
Atsumu pressed his lips together tightly. Okay so now he knew he really shouldn’t watch it. That would, objectively-speaking, literally be the very most one-hundred-percent, no-doubt-about-it, absolutely-positively stupidest possible course of action he had the option of taking.
His eyes darting across the empty bedroom to make sure nobody was watching, Atsumu quickly clicked on the link and slipped in his headphones, just to be safe.
The video opened up with a shot of Atsumu’s face. Off camera, the interviewer was asking a question. “Miya-san,” they began, “you use nicknames or first names for every member of the team except one - Sakusa Kiyoomi. Why is that? Is it really true that you just don’t like him?”
The video editor had zoomed in on Atsumu’s face as he looked over at Sakusa nervously. Sentences started to appear on his cheek, and Atsumu had to pause to read them.
*glances over nervously*
bae come on please give me something here
like srsly, any reaction would be nice
hello???
*sigh*
Video Atsumu turned back to the interviewer, and the words disappeared. “Well,” the setter said. “That sounded more to me like two questions, no?” He laughed a little. “Are y’all trying to pull one on me?”
*changes subject awkwardly*
*emmits heavy secret relationship vibes*
*s w e a t s*
(Atsumu frowned. Okay so no, he had definitely not been sweating - the studio had actually been quite chilly, for that matter.)
(And also: had it really been that awkward? Atsumu considered himself to be quite smooth, really, thank you very much.)
The video changed shots, zooming back out to reveal all three of them rather than just Atsumu’s face as the setter said to Hinata, smiling: “That’s a great idea, Shouyou.”
Then the editor zoomed in on the glare Sakusa had thrown at Atsumu, and new words appeared on the screen.
stop
no
not him
look at me
what are you even saying you have a secret boyfriend stop
The video panned back out to reveal all three of them once more as the words on screen disappeared. “How about…” Atsumu was saying. “Usa?”
i’m sorry, babe, here, i’ll talk to you
happy now?
“No.” Sakusa’s answer came without hesitation.
“Usa Wusa?”
what about now?
Sakusa still didn’t so much as pause. “Absolutely not.”
“Usa Wusa Busa?”
okayyyyy but like how about now?
“I will literally end you.”
fine whatever i love you we get it
(Atsumu nearly scoffed out loud. If “I will literally end you” was the equivalent of “I love you,” then the setter really had spent his life being quite the heartbreaker.)
The video cut to a shot focused on Sakusa’s sullen face as Bokuto started to say something off-screen. “Oh! Wait! I know!” Sakusa looked like he was holding back the urge to murder somebody. “Ki-kun! Like, Kiyoomi, but shorter!”
Sakusa glowered. “Are we really crowd-sourcing this?” he muttered.
why are there other people here
they are literally all irrelevant
where is atsumu why isn’t he looking at me
attention, please
The screen switched to Atsumu’s smiling face.
ah there we go
“I kind of like the first name thing, actually,” the setter said, “so let’s see. Kiyoomi… Ki-kun… Omi…”
“Dear god,” Sakusa breathed, closing his eyes.
he’s too pretty omg
i can’t even look at him
also: check out my freakishly long eyelashes
but like fjkdlsjfks miya atsumu fjdkjdl
(A small smile tugged at the edges of the setter’s lips. I mean… The blonde found he had no complaints with this particular vein of commentary.)
“Mi-kun?” Hinata suggested off-screen. “Or Mi-mi?”
oh great
and he’s talking again
if atsumu responds to him again i swear i will commit murder
“Why don’t we just move on from this?” Sakusa quickly cut in, turning to the interviewer. “Do you have any more questions for us because trust me when I say that I feel no burning need or desire to be given a nickname by Miya Atsumu.”
and yes, i really did just use that as an excuse to use his full name
because yes, i really am absolutely shameless
(Atsumu couldn’t even blame video Sakusa. It really was a brilliant name.)
The video switched shots to focus on Atsumu’s smirking face as the setter leaned forward to wink at the camera. “Don’t worry,” he mock stage-whispered. “Omi over here is just grumpy that he doesn’t have a nickname yet.”
seriously tho this gives off such massive boyfriend vibes
i don’t even have any commentary to add
like he winked
need i say more?
The screen changed to show all of them once again. “Why do I even bother at this point,” Sakusa grumbled, sighing.
“Aw come on, you know why.” Atsumu shot him a crooked smile.
you love me and you know it
“How else are you going to get a brilliant nickname like Omi-Omi-Omi?” the setter continued.
“You are incorrigible,” Sakusa replied.
god i know now stop we all know i love you for it
“Ooh, Omi-Omi-Omi’s big word of the day!” Atsumu clapped. “Guys, look! He’s a real grown-up and everything!”
*sarcastic proud bf moments*
*is that even a thing*
*omfg guys i think sakuatsu just invented a thing*
(Atsumu raised an eyebrow. SakuAtsu? Really? AtsuSaku sounded better but fine, alright. Whatever floated people’s boats.)
Hinata and Bokuto started to join the setter in his applause, the both of them smiling brightly, and the video zoomed in on Sakusa’s face as he heaved out another sigh.
oh great
i’d forgotten about them
“I hate you all,” he muttered.
except my secret bf
but like the rest of you all can rot in hell
The camera switched to Bokuto’s smiling expression. “Yeah, Sakusa! Let’s go!” he cheered.
dude come on
“secret”??
we all know you’re dating
The spiker’s face was replaced with Hinata’s. “Hating like a champ!” the shorter man whooped.
”hating” he says
*wink wink*
*so many winks*
*like so, so, so many winks*
lol
we do have eyes, yk
we see what you tweet
The video switched back to a close-up of Atsumu’s face as Sakusa sighed. “Dear god,” the spiker mumbled, and the entire screen was filled with a straight-up shot of Atsumu staring at his teammate’s eyelashes.
dear god is right
gosh
he’s so beautiful
Flushing slightly, Atsumu frowned. Okay so maybe they weren’t entirely wrong about that part. Sure, he may have been staring a bit, but it hadn’t been ogling - he was clearly glaring and sending deeply jealous but hateful vibes because the universe has been unfair with your creation and I completely and utterly despise you for it.
But video Atsumu continued to stare, and real-life Atsumu’s cheeks turned even pinker. Wait. That didn’t count as ogling, right?
The screen zoomed in on video Atsumu’s eyes.
Right?
Pursing his lips, Atsumu quickly clicked out of the tab to return to Twitter. He had known it was a bad idea. He really shouldn’t have watched that.
But he couldn’t exactly pretend that he hadn’t seen it now, could he? It was out there, after all, and, judging by the number of views on that video, it was a pretty popular idea, so more would probably crop up soon in the next few days.
No, the only way to deal with this would be to nip it in the bud. Put an end to the rumors before they had the chance to grow.
And so, setting his jaw determinedly, Atsumu pressed retweet on the original account’s post, typing out a comment to add along to it.
8 > 6 @nottheonigirione | 6:28 pm
lol but like let’s face it, i’m way out of his league
There. Atsumu paused to re-read what he’d written. Respectful to the fans, but also flippant enough to dismiss whatever silly rumors shippers would cling on to.
He smiled, pressing the send button before navigating back to YouTube and clicking on some random video of a baby seal farting that the algorithm had recommended to him. Now that that’s taken care of…
Two hours later, Atsumu had found himself deep in the I-clicked-on-one-and-now-YouTube-keeps-on-reccomending-baby-seal-videos-and-I-can’t-stop-watching-somebody-please-send-help rabbit hole when a new Twitter notification popped up. WEAR A MASK has replied to your tweet…
Something twisted inside of him in anticipation. Sakusa hadn’t been supposed to respond - instead, what he was supposed to do was just ignore it, not add fuel to the fire, and simply let the whole thing go as the Internet moved on.
And yet. There sat that notification.
Biting his lip, Atsumu pressed on it and quickly began to read.
WEAR A MASK @skiyoomi | 8:07 pm
replying to @nottheonigirione
Yeah right. You wish.
Atsumu let out a little breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Okay. So this wasn’t too bad. It was a pretty harmless reply, after all; it wasn’t like anybody would- but wait. Atsumu narrowed his eyes, re-reading the last sentence.
Hold up. Atsumu’s eyebrows shot up. That wasn’t innocuous at all. Had Sakusa Kiyoomi actually just indirectly implied - in front of his tens of thousands of Twitter followers - that Atsumu would actually want to be in a relationship with Sakusa?
His heart rate picking up, Atsumu went back and re-read the thread. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t what Sakusa had meant. Maybe he had just been saying that Atsumu wished he could be in Sakusa’s league, implying that the setter was some miles below.
But then again, maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he really had meant that Atsumu wanted to…
The blonde let out a shaky breath. It didn’t matter. Either way, Atsumu wasn’t about to let the spiker get away with it.
8 > 6 @nottheonigirione | 8:10 pm
replying to @skiyoomi
i wish for nothing in this life, omi-omi
Atsumu quickly pressed send, his grip tight around the phone. The original tweet had already gained over a thousand likes, and the number kept going up, much faster than the setter’s post usually did.
The blonde swallowed hard. Alright so maybe he hadn’t been right about engaging. Maybe it would have attracted less attention if he had just ignored the rumors, not even bothered with them.
Shit, Atsumu thought, watching the comment ticker rise as hundreds of people chimed in on what they thought of #sakuatsu. He might have given into his self-destructive curiosity and clicked on them, if not for the fact that listening to what people were saying about him and Sakusa online had put him in this spot in the first place.
Atsumu was just about to give in to temptation and read a few when a new reply from Sakusa popped up.
WEAR A MASK @skiyoomi | 8:16 pm
replying to @nottheonigirione
Oh really? Because last time I checked, I’m still single.
For a long second, Atsumu could do nothing but stare at the text splayed across the screen. And then he blinked. And then he stared. And then he blinked once more.
Was that… Was Sakusa really…
He blanched.
Did Sakusa Kiyoomi actually just flirt with him?
His eyes widening, Atsumu turned even whiter.
Wait. Hold on a moment.
Did Sakusa Kiyoomi actually just flirt with him in front of literally the entire Internet?
His heart thumping loudly in his chest, Atsumu quickly scanned the numbers. The Internet, that was right. Damage control first, Sakusa-Kiyoomi-oh-my-god-was-he-flirting second.
Though, from the looks of things, it didn’t really seem like there was much that the setter could control about the situation. The number of engagements was only growing by the second, and the number of retweets was climbing so quickly that Atsumu was certain this thread was going to end up on practically everybody’s timeline.
Oh god. A quick glance towards the trending bar also showed Atsumu that #sakuatsu was now a top topic all over Japan.
Suffice to say, any attempt at damage control was going to fail.
Atsumu’s eyes darted back to Sakusa’s tweet. Alright then. Time for the Sakusa-Kiyoomi-oh-my-god-was-he-flirting freak-out now.
His heart beat started thumping even faster against his rib cage. Sakusa Kiyoomi. Oh my god. Was he flirting - oh my god. Sakusa Kiyoomi. Oh my god.
Well. Atsumu’s grip on the phone tightened. At least the crisis part of his plan was going well.
Taking a deep breath, Atsumu closed his eyes and tried to slow down his thoughts. A plan, right. That was it. He just needed a plan. A way to know what Sakusa was thinking - a question, a warning.
A warning. The setter’s eyes snapped open. That was it. He needed to give Sakusa a warning. After all, maybe the spiker hadn’t actually meant what he had said - maybe he was just being overly combative and had pressed send without realizing what it sounded like.
Yeah, a warning. Atsumu just needed to give Sakusa a way out of this mess. Nodding to himself, Atsumu leaned forward and began to type.
8 > 6 @nottheonigirione | 8:21 pm
replying to @skiyoomi
is that a challenge? bc if not, you better back tf down, omi-kun
After hastily pressing send, Atsumu sat back, his finger hovering nervously over the refresh button. Another quick glance towards the side bar told him that #sakuatsu was still blowing up, and the number of tweets about the topic only seemed to be growing.
(And okay, so fine. Maybe Atsumu did take the time to note that the number had already exceeded the views on Osamu’s stupid suit commercial. Can’t sue a guy for being petty, alright?)
Sakusa’s reply was quicker this time. Atsumu barely even had time to register the notification before he was already pressing to read what the spiker had said.
WEAR A MASK @skiyoomi | 8:23 pm
replying to @nottheonigirione
Me? Back down? Ha. Yeah right. In your dreams, Miya.
Atsumu blinked down at his screen. That goddamn little bitch, he thought, his forehead creasing angrily, because of course, Sakusa Kiyoomi really did just say that, because of course, the spiker just had to be vague enough where it could be entirely plausible that his stubborn aggression alone was going to land them in the covers of every tabloid by tomorrow morning.
Honestly, if Atsumu wasn’t so frustrated, he might laugh. After all, is he flirting or does he just really want to be the bigger asshole was not a question that he had envisaged himself asking when he woke up that morning.
Screw it, Atsumu decided as he started to type. If he wants to be that way, fine. Let’s play.
8 > 6 @nottheonigirione | 8:26 pm
replying to @skiyoomi
you srsly gonna try me? okay then, omi. saturday, seven o’clock, my place. bring flowers or i’m throwing you out
It was a bit bold, perhaps, but not entirely out of line. (Lie. He was so out of line Atsumu wasn’t even sure he could see the damn thing anymore. Hell, now he wasn’t even sure whether or not he had ever even known where the line was in the first place.) It was Sakusa who had started this, after all. (Also a lie. Atsumu had sparked this whole thing and he knew it.) Sakusa had brought them to this point. Sakusa had set the tone. Atsumu squared his jaw determinedly. That was right. Sakusa had responded to his challenge, and the setter couldn’t just let the spiker waltz right in and win, now could he?
No, Atsumu decided, he absolutely could not.
(Lie, lie, lie, so many lies. He could absolutely turn off the phone. He could absolutely close his eyes. He could absolutely not press-)
There. Sent. Atsumu dropped his phone onto his stomach, staring up at his ceiling. The tweet was sent.
Did I just make a mistake? the setter wondered.
The ceiling, however, didn’t respond. Atsumu decided to take its silence as a good sign.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the setter’s phone dinged, and he nearly dropped it again in his scramble to unlock it and quickly scan Sakusa’s latest tweet.
WEAR A MASK @skiyoomi | 8:28 pm
replying to @nottheonigirione
Fine. Leave the door unlocked. I’m not knocking
Atsumu turned off the phone, closing his eyes. He did not start to type.
Well shit, the setter thought. So that just happened.
The ceiling didn’t even bother to reply.
#
The fifth warning came that Saturday. Atsumu jiggled his knee, tugging at the hem of his button-up as he checked the time on his phone. 6:59 pm. Okay. He looked back up at the door to his apartment. So there was still one minute left. Anything could happen in a minute, really. A meteor could come striking down through the ozone and lay utter ruin to the entire-
A knocking echoed through the apartment, and Atsumu immediately looked down at his phone once more. 7:00. Well then.
Swallowing hard, the setter pushed himself to his feet and started towards the door. So it seemed the whole meteor thing was a no-go.
Pausing, Atsumu allowed himself one moment to hesitate with his hand still wrapped around the doorknob. This was actually happening then, he supposed. Okay. Sucking in a deep breath, Atsumu pulled open the door, fixing his lips into what he hoped was his most confident smile. Okay.
The door swung open to reveal Sakusa Kiyoomi’s glowering expression, his mask still tightly secured over the lower half of his face. “You locked the door,” he said as soon as the door opened, his eyebrows furrowed.
Atsumu, on the other hand, could only seem to stare at him. “And you actually showed up,” he managed to reply finally.
Sakusa’s forehead creased even more. “Of course I did.” His voice was gruff. “I did say I would, didn’t I?”
Atsumu paused. “I guess…”
An uncomfortable silence descended between them. After a long moment, Sakusa coughed, shoving something forward. “Here,” he muttered.
Atsumu looked down to see that the spiker was pushing a bouquet of purple flowers at his chest. “Oh,” the setter said. The tips of his lips turned into a crooked smile as he took the bundle and glanced back up into Sakusa’s dark eyes. “So you remembered the flowers.”
The spiker gazed back steadily. “I always see things through,” he replied, the tone of his voice still unreadable.
Shaking his head, Atsumu stepped aside to give Sakusa space to step in. “It’s too bad, really.” The blonde tsked. “I was kinda looking forward to getting to kick you out.”
“Ha.” Unamused, the spiker walked in, and Atsumu shut the door quietly behind him. “Sorry to crush your dreams.”
“It’s okay.” Atsumu shrugged. “I’ll find a way to recover. I’m quite resilient, you know.”
Another silence descended between them. This time, however, it was Atsumu’s turn to clear his throat after too long of a pause had lapsed. “Well,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Dinner’s just this way, if ya wanna follow after me for a bit.”
The spiker nodded, and the setter started forward, leading him to the table he had set earlier. “I don’t know if you like it, but I thought fatty tuna would be a good idea,” Atsumu explained. He gestured towards the chair across from him. “You can sit, by the way.”
Sakusa carefully placed himself down in the seat, and Atsumu sat down at his own. “I didn’t know you cooked,” the spiker said, looking at the array of sushi pieces sitting before him.
“Seriously?” Atsumu scoffed, his lips tilted upwards in a crooked smile. “Ya do know who my brother is, right?” He arched an eyebrow. “Osamu, the onigiri guy?”
Sakusa shot him a glare. “Just because one of you likes to make food doesn’t mean the other one does, too.”
The blonde simply stared at him for a long moment. “We’re identical twins, Omi.”
“So?”
“So we literally share the exact same DNA.”
Sakusa looked back down at the table, picking up a pair of chopsticks to start placing sushi pieces on his plate. “Favorite pastimes aren’t exactly genetic, Miya,” he replied. When he next glanced up, the spiker caught Atsumu watching him closely. “What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Still processing the eighth grade biology?”
“No, actually.” The setter gestured forward with his chopsticks. “Just wonderin’ whether or not you were gonna take off the mask to eat.”
Sakusa’s forehead creased. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. Atsumu watched as he lifted up a hand to carefully unhook the mask from around his ear and remove it, placing it down carefully beside the plate. “Happy now?”
The setter swallowed hard, the ship video flashing through his mind.
happy now? video Atsumu had asked.
fine, video Sakusa had replied. whatever i love you we get it.
“Yes,” real-life Atsumu said, picking up a pair of chopsticks to begin filling up his own plate. “Much happier, actually.”
Sakusa raised a piece of sushi to his lips and started chewing. “Glad to heighten your quality of life,” he dead-panned, and Atsumu laughed a little.
“Yeah.” He picked up his own piece of fatty tuna. “I really appreciate it.”
They fell into another silence, the room filled only with the quiet sounds of chewing. After a long minute of quiet had passed, however, Atsumu sucked in a deep breath. He could practically hear what Osamu would say in his head. Just do it, loser.
“So,” the setter started, keeping his voice decidedly casual, “is this an actual date, or like…?”
Sakusa’s eyebrows furrowed as he swallowed. “Why wouldn’t it be?” he asked.
Atsumu scoffed. “Why?” Shaking his head, he barked out a little laugh. “I literally had no idea whether or not you were trying to flirt with me or out-asshole me, Omi.” Atsumu paused, glancing down as he reconsidered. “Still don’t, for that matter.”
The spiker’s dark eyes, on the other hand, were unwavering. “Why not both?” he replied, his forehead creasing even more.
“Both?”
“Yeah. I don’t know.” Sakusa stabbed at one of the pieces of sushi on his plate. “Multi-tasking or some shit like that.”
When Atsumu only stared at him in silence, however, Sakusa glanced back up at the setter. “What?” he said.
After studying his blank expression for another long moment, the blonde burst out into laughter. “‘Multi-tasking or some shit like that’?” he parroted, smiling. “Really, Omi?”
Sakusa scowled. “What?” he repeated.
“Okay first of all,” Atsumu began, leaning forward to place his elbows on the table, “that was the least romantic way to phrase asking me on a date.”
“It was actually you who asked me, but okay.”
“And second of all,” the setter continued, pointedly ignoring Sakusa’s comment, “what does that even mean? Like, is aggressive banter your language of love or something?”
Sakusa only blinked at him in response.
Atsumu’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh my god, seriously?”
“Look,” Sakusa began, “I’m not as weird as that sounds.”
Atsumu burst out into a fresh round of laughter. “God, Omi-kun.”
“My flirting is perfectly normal.”
“If by ‘normal’ you mean really quite rude and antagonistic, then yes, Omi.” Atsumu smiled crookedly at him. “Your flirting is completely normal.”
Sakusa frowned. “Yeah well it’s not like you were any better.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You flirted back in literally the exact same way.”
Atsumu gasped. “I did no such thng.”
“Oh really?” Sakusa pulled out his phone, and Atsumu watched him with narrowed eyes.
“What are you doing?” he asked, but Sakusa ignored his question.
“‘Do ya really wanna start this with me? ‘Cause not gonna lie, I can’t see it ending well for ya,’” the spiker read aloud.
“Oh come on.” Atsumu leaned back, crossing his arms. “That was not flirting.”
Sakusa, however, merely continued to scroll. “Oh, and here’s a good one.” He leaned in to read it better. “‘So I’m astounding? J-F-K-D-S-L. Aw.’”
“Was reciting each letter in the keyboard smash really all that necessary?”
Sakusa ignored him. “Can’t forget about this great moment either. ‘Is that a challenge? Because if not, you better back the fuck down, Omi-kun.’”
“Okay now that was most definitely not flirting.”
Sakusa put down the phone to raise his eyebrows at the setter.
“What?” Atsumu said. “It wasn’t.”
“Really? Because you followed it up by practically ordering me to go on this date.”
“I-“ Atsumu stopped. Sakusa picked up his chopsticks once again. “Well okay, fine,” the setter ammended, “I guess I can see a hypothetical world in which some people maybe - maybe - could have perceived that as something vaguely resembling flirting.” He paused. “But.”
“So in other words,” Sakusa cut in, “I was right.”
“But,” Atsumu repeated, “I, at least, was not aware of it at the time.”
“At the time?” Sakusa arched an eyebrow. “Does that mean you’re aware of it now?”
Atsumu pressed his lips together tightly. “Maybe,” he admitted, and the corners of Sakusa’s lips turned upwards in a small triumphant smirk.
“So I was right. You were flirting.”
Shooting the spiker a crooked smile, Atsumu reached his chopsticks down towards his plate once more. “Let’s just see how this date goes first, alright?”
“And if it goes well?” Sakusa prompted.
The setter shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to see.” Smirking, he placed a piece of the sushi into his mouth.
“Fine.” Sakusa looked back down at his plate. “What qualifies as a good date then?”
Atsumu finished chewing before answering. “What?” he said, swallowing.
“I said what qualifies as a good date then?”
Atsumu laughed. “What, do ya want a grading rubric or something?”
“Just some general guidelines would be nice.”
Atsumu stared into Sakusa’s dark eyes for a long moment. “Well I don’t know,” the setter finally replied, but even as the sentence left his mouth, he knew it was a lie. He knew it was a lie ten minutes later, too, when he told a joke and Sakusa nearly choked on the water he was swallowing, and he knew it was an even bigger lie around another ten minutes after that, when the spiker insisted on helping him clear away the plates and they argued over whether the rinser or the dryer was the more masculine job to hold when cleaning dishes.
But Atsumu especially knew it was a lie another ten minutes after that, when they were standing back at the door’s threshold, and the setter pretended not to notice that Sakusa hadn’t put his mask back on quite yet. He could still see the white cloth out of the corner of his eye, however, hanging limply out of Sakusa’s long pale fingers. Atsumu swallowed, his gaze flickering between each of the spiker’s dark irises.
“So,” Sakusa began, his voice quiet, “did that pass the rubric?”
Atsumu’s lips tilted upwards in a small crooked smile. “Yeah,” he answered. “Yeah, that passes.”
Sakusa smiled a little too. “Good,” he said, and his mask was still off but he was leaning forward a bit and had Atsumu mentioned that his mask was still off because it was, it was actually a good foot beneath where Sakusa’s mouth was and god, Sakusa’s mouth - technically-speaking, Atsumu had known he had a mouth before, but, like, not really in quite the same context and-
“Wait.” Sakusa paused midway, and Atsumu closed his eyes to take a deep breath. “Wait,” he repeated, opening them back up to glance down at his feet. “I, uh, I kind of have something I gotta tell you.”
“Really?” Sakusa said, the corners of his lips tugging downwards into a tiny frown. “Like, now?” He didn’t exactly lean back, but he didn’t exactly lean any farther forward, either.
Atsumu nodded. “Yeah. Now.” He took another deep breath. “Look,” the blonde continued, his eyes darting back up to meet Sakusa’s. “I just really think you deserve another warning.”
The spiker pressed his lips together firmly. “I knew it,” he declared. “I knew it.” He heaved out a sigh. “You have mono, don’t you.”
“I- what?” Atsumu’s face scrunched up. “No, I do not have mono, thank you very- wait. Whaddaya mean you knew it? I don’t- no!”
“Oh.” Sakusa almost looked slightly disappointed for having gotten it wrong. “Sorry.” He paused. “I just kinda don’t really know what else you would exactly have to tell me right now, so.”
“Well it’s definitely not that.” Atsumu let out a huff. “This is only a warning. I guess I just wanted to give you another chance to back out, y’know?”
Sakusa’s forehead creased, and Atsumu had to resist the urge to reach up and smooth it out. “Back out?” the spiker repeated. The blonde nodded.
“Yeah,” he said. “Back out.” Atsumu sucked in a deep breath before quickly letting the whole sentence run out at once. “I didn’t actually cook the sushi, okay?”
Sakusa’s eyebrows furrowed. “Huh?”
“And yes,” Atsumu continued, the words hastily spilling out, one atop the other as they piled up on the bottom of the doorframe beneath him, “I do know that what I said kind of made it sound like I did, and yes, I do know that I kind of sort of made it sound that way on purpose, but listen, if you’re gonna do this, you gotta know that, well.” He took another deep breath. “I’m a dick, alright? A generally unpleasant, terminally obnoxious, compulsively lying dick.”
“A dick,” Sakusa repeated, his voice slow.
“Yes. A dick. And I just think that you deserve to get a little heads-up, before we, well, you know. Because I really am one, okay, and I don’t want you to go in blind, and then turn back, and the blinking red lights at the start of the cave really should have been a pretty big red flag but in case you haven’t gotten it by now, I just thought-“
“Atsumu.”
The setter stopped. “Yeah?” His voice had gone quieter, his gaze still decidedly pinned on the white mask hanging from the spiker’s finger tips.
Sakusa took another small step forward, and Atsumu watched as the pile of words toppled over into dust at his touch. “I think you forget,” he began slowly, lifting a hand to cup Atsumu’s jaw gently and tilt his head up so that the setter had to meet Sakusa’s gaze, “that I just spent the last month trying to out-dick you on a public stage.”
And then Sakusa was leaning in, slowly, his long, too-goddamn-beautiful eyelashes fluttering shut as he waited for Atsumu’s response, and Atsumu knew they both saw this for what it was. A warning, a we-don’t-have-to-cross-this-line-if-you-don’t-want-to kind of warning, one that hung in the air between their lips lightly, delicately, almost as if it was scared to hover too heavily and make its presence known, a we-don’t-have-to-cross-this-line-but-I’d-like-to-I-think-if-you-don’t-mind kind of warning, and Atsumu smiled.
He had never been too good at not crossing lines, after all, and, as he closed his eyes and leaned the rest of the way forward, Atsumu decided that maybe he was okay with Sakusa’s eyelashes being too unjustly beautiful, after all.