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Sakusa Kiyoomi is many things.
He is calm in the face of adversity, wielding an unwavering sense of tranquil pride even when the odds are stacked against him. He’s incredibly analytical, especially when it counts, determining the worth of every toss before he even begins his approach. Some may describe him as picky, but he prefers to think of himself as refined. Afterall, not all pickled plums are crafted with care, and he can tell when it comes to these things.
What Sakusa Kiyoomi is not, however, is careless. Compound that notion with his penchant for keeping his private life, well, private, and his shock at Inunaki’s question does not seem entirely unwarranted.
“So, Sakusa,” Inunaki asks with an impish smile. “How long have you and Atsumu been dating?”
Chopsticks clatter onto plates followed by an uncomfortable silence underscored by the surrounding murmur of the restaurant. The MSBY Jackals are supposed to be celebrating their win over the Adlers, but instead of a clamorous celebration, all eyes are fixed on a reddening Kiyoomi and a sputtering Atsumu.
Kiyoomi stomps on Atsumu’s foot to keep him from spewing nonsense in self-defense. Atsumu shoves two dumplings in his mouth.
“What on earth would even prompt you to ask that question?” Kiyoomi tries.
“Yeah, Wan-san.” Hinata rests his chin in his palm and confusion knits his brows. “Atsumu seems like the last guy Omi-san would wanna date.”
Atsumu chokes on his dumplings, presumably in an attempt to stifle a laugh. Kiyoomi resists the urge to pat his back lest he incriminate himself further. Atsumu gives him a slightly miffed expression, but Kiyoomi refuses to waver.
“Well, I had my suspicions for a while, but tonight just confirmed it.” Inunaki narrows his eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Inunaki’s gaze flits to the glass of water in Kiyoomi’s hand, and suddenly Kiyoomi feels the world collapse all around him as the thunderous realization of his mistake strikes him in his chest.
“So, you mean to tell me the Sakusa Kiyoomi, the very man who deposits a gallon’s worth of hand sanitizer onto his palm before borrowing a pen, the very same Sakusa Kiyoomi who nearly cut down our sweet Hinata for accidentally touching him on a weird day, can take a sip out of Miya Atsumu’s glass without even blinking?”
Several things happen at once. Hinata’s jaw almost drops to the table. Bokuto lets out a dramatic audible gasp that Kiyoomi would have thought was comical in any other instance, but instead he finds it entirely too loud. Meian simply rubs at his temples. Thomas groans and reaches for his wallet, pulling out a wad of cash and placing it in Inunaki’s waiting palm.
It was an honest mistake. Kiyoomi is typically careful when interacting with Atsumu in public. After all, the last thing he needs is the press inviting an immeasurable amount of fans to speculate on the very concept of them. Or worse, their own teammates making it into an overblown thing. They don’t even sit next to each other during most team outings, anything to minimize the risk of being discovered. Except for right now, because it would seem Kiyoomi has surrendered his self-preservation skills for a certain loud-mouthed setter.
But one of the things Sakusa Kiyoomi is would be a fool, a fool so enamored and hopelessly in love with Miya Atsumu that he hadn’t even realized the amount of walls he's allowed to crumble when he’s around the insufferable object of his affection, that his comfort and trust in Atsumu significantly outweigh his well-established aversion to germs.
Until now, where he’d allowed himself to fall into that warm comfort, easy as breathing, and absentmindedly sipped out of Atsumu’s glass in front of everyone, like a fucking fool.
He wishes this massive revelation could have happened anywhere else.
The glass of water abruptly feels like it weighs one thousand kilograms, and despite Kiyoomi’s flexible wrists, he can't hold onto it any longer. But before he can deposit the glass on the table like a wet rag, Atsumu plucks it out of his hand and chugs the entire thing. Inunaki snorts, and Kiyoomi levels Atsumu with a glare so sharp he’s sure Atsumu will complain about the edge later.
“Well?” Inunaki challenges.
Kiyoomi responds with a firm, “We’re not dating,” at the same time Atsumu shouts, “What’s with the cash?”
“Oh my god,” Bokuto says, and then, “Congrats!”
“Thomas and I had a bet on whether or not the two of you were together, and I just made a nice sum of cash.” Inunaki stuffs the money in his pocket. “So thanks for that.”
“Tomas should ask for a refund because Miya and I are not dating.” Kiyoomi feels a very small amount of guilt pool in his gut at addressing Atsumu as ‘Miya’ after Atsumu had recently lamented that Kiyoomi never calls him by his given name. But this is for the greater good. He’ll make it up to Atsumu later.
“Now that I think about it, it was kinda obvious,” Hinata chimes.
“Oh, definitely,” Inunaki adds.
“Huh!? What are you guys even sayin’?” Atsumu grips onto Kiyoomi’s thigh. Kiyoomi suppresses the urge to yank it off him and fling Atsumu across the restaurant.
Inunaki answers with, “You two act like you’re the only two in a room most of the time. It's gross.”
“How do you reckon that? We don’t even hang around each other when we’re all out!” Atsumu tightens his grip, and Kiyoomi has never wanted to be eviscerated more in his entire life.
“Still, though, you guys look at each other a lot. Like, even when you’re across the room having a conversation with one of us, you look for each other. I’m just now noticing.” Hinata grabs hold of his chin as he tries to recall more implicating scenarios. Kiyoomi has half a mind to slap Hinata’s elbow off the table.
“Wow! I thought you guys were having staring contests. Something else to keep competitive tallies of besides service aces.” Bokuto’s grin is so big and earnest his cheeks almost eclipse his widening gaze.
“There was also the time Omi-san let Atsumu wipe some sweat off his forehead. Oh! And there was the time Omi-san smirked at one of Atsumu’s dumb jokes.” Hinata’s smile is too smug and a little stupid, Kiyoomi thinks.
“Hey, you laughed at that dumb joke!” Atsumu pathetically counters.
And the team goes on and on, rattling off every single instance highlighting the not-so-secret romance between Kiyoomi and Atsumu. There was that time where Atsumu patted Kiyoomi’s shoulder after a monstrous kill, and Kiyoomi barely even flinched. There was another time where they both showed up late to practice at the same time with unkempt hair and kiss-swollen lips. And sometimes, they exchange lunches they clearly made for each other. On and on, embarrassing moment after embarrassing moment. Kiyoomi feels the color on his cheeks deepen with every mentioned accusation.
God, they were so fucking obvious.
It’s a shame, really. Kiyoomi was beginning to harbor a strong fondness for his teammates. Each practice and match engraving a keen appreciation for his newfound friends into his bones. He’d even go as far to say the bond he’s created with the MSBY Jackals will last a lifetime, but he’d never say that out loud. Too bad Kiyoomi is going to have to resign as soon as this dinner is over. Should he send Coach Foster a text tonight or confront him in person in the morning? On the bright side, maybe Barnes will get more playing time as an outside hitter.
“You’re all delusional. We’re not dating,” Kiyoomi tries for the final time.
“Oh yeah?” Inunaki picks up Atsumu’s empty glass. “Explain this, then.”
And Kiyoomi can’t, even as he flips through a mental rolodex of possible excuses. None of them seem viable. Kiyoomi almost caves when Atsumu blurts, “He’s just getting comfortable with the team! That’s all.”
Atsumu’s excuse is as sturdy as a beach pier made of paper. But Kiyoomi takes a step onto it anyway, praying he doesn’t fall into shark-infested waters as he nods.
“Really?” Inunaki raises a brow.
“Really,” Kiyoomi and Atsumu say in unison. It’s especially unconvincing.
Inunaki takes his own glass and slides it across the table towards Kiyoomi.
“Take a sip out of my water, then.”
Chopsticks fall onto dinner plates again.
“Inunaki,” Tomas sighs.
“Sakusa, you don’t have to do that. Actually, please don’t do that.” Meian looks so, so tired.
Kiyoomi just stares at the glass of water. Victory has never looked so impossible.
“Omi,” Atsumu whispers, “let’s just tell them.”
Kiyoomi shakes his head, his pride moving his hand towards the glass. As much as he absolutely hates what’s happening right now, he loves his privacy even more, and his privacy with Atsumu is a treasure he doesn’t want anyone else to uncover. It’s nice what he and Atsumu have, and Kiyoomi figures a lot of that serenity is thanks to them keeping it a secret. Plus, if he goes through with this, it’ll show Inunaki, well, something. Kiyoomi isn’t entirely sure.
But before Kiyoomi even touches the glass, Atsumu grabs onto his wrist, and Inunaki snatches the glass away.
Atsumu yells, “Okay, fine! You win! We’re dating! Happy?”
And at the same time, Inunaki belts, “Wait! Don’t drink that. I was kidding!”
Silence. Pure, tumultuous silence so deafening Kiyoomi’s ears start ringing.
And then a chorus of I knew it! and Oh my god! envelopes the table, and yeah, Kiyoomi may seriously consider resigning.
“Since when?” Hinata asks with stars in his eyes.
“Since our last match with the Red Falcons.” Atsumu scratches the back of his head.
“Six months?” Bokuto slaps the table. “I’m so happy for you guys!” And that earnest grin makes another appearance, and Kiyoomi can’t help but feel a little grateful for it.
Inunaki insists on a toast to the “World’s Most Beautifully Intolerable Couple,” and the team harpoons the pair with dozens of intrusive questions for the rest of the evening. Kiyoomi can’t say that he minds so much, especially when Atsumu just looks at him like that whenever he answers a question, like Kiyoomi truly is the only other person in the room, the only other person in the world.
Maybe Kiyoomi won’t quit. Maybe.
Afterwards, as Atsumu and Kiyoomi make their way towards Kiyoomi’s apartment, Atsumu succumbs to a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
“I’m surprised you’re laughing after all that.”
Atsumu wipes a tear away before he says, “I didn’t realize how disgustin’ we are. We were so not subtle at all.”
“Absolutely unbearable,” Kiyoomi agrees.
One more revelation hits Kiyoomi like a meteor as they weave their way through the night, and he smiles when he reaches for Atsumu’s hand and laces their fingers. Atsumu’s skin flushes in delight, and Kiyoomi revels in how lovely Atsumu is when unbridled joy blooms across his face. It’s not so bad that they can do this in public now. In fact, Kiyoomi might even prefer this if he can watch Atsumu’s smile unfurl beneath the moonlight more often.