Work Text:
Since it was announced that Karasuno had been invited to the top schools' training camp, he may have become a little more euphoric than usual. Atsumu may have screamed internally for a few minutes before Osamu snapped him out of his trance.
He may have spent more time than necessary thinking about one of the crows' central blockers. There was also the possibility that he had managed to turn a spike into a golden channel scene after 12 midnight.
He needed Shoyo. He knew that from the moment he discovered Hinata was the exact definition of what his person wanted. Atsumu hadn't even put his hands out to break the fall or cushion the blow. Now he had an opportunity that was laid out on the table.
Atsumu rarely has good ideas. In fact, Osamu would usually label him an asshole idiot. Maybe he is, but Atsumu prefers to say that it's not his fault that the people around him don't value his sense of humor and therefore end up in a disastrous way. That sometimes includes his brother.
But making sure to get Shoyo out of the dorm without Kageyama —his roommate — noticing, bribing Rintaro a bit to cover his tracks, and taking him to the pond could be considered the best idea he's ever had.
There are small firefies and they shine brightly, almost as bright as the stars, almost as bright as his eyes, Shoyo's eyes. They light up the darkness of the night, they fly around him. The breeze is light and makes the treetops dance. Crickets chirp and Hinata's laughter harmonizes.
Atsumu smiles beside him, the grass beneath his feet, touching his knees. The flowers highlight the orange beauty that plays with insects. Atsumu’s pupils dilate and his heart thumps fiercely in his chest. He watches Hinata stretch out his hand and lets a firefly rest on his finger. Shoyo gazes at his curiously, the smile shining on his face.
Atsumu sighs because love has overtaken him. Love? Can this be called love?
The occasional exchange of messages, the late-night talks, and the video calls do not replace the distance but diminish it. The photos of banal things and also the intentional ones.
Maybe I could call love to the "Good morning, Atsumu-san. Have a good training" or the "Shoyo-kun, I've seen the video, block the dominant hand of the finisher, it will be much easier for you to control the spike ". Maybe it's in the 2-minute audios about the prudent amount of buns a person can eat after training. Or maybe there's the venting that is patiently listened to after the fight with Osamu.
Most likely, though, it could be that the love is in Shoyo on his knees playing with the fireflies.
“Don't you think they're pretty, Atsumu-san?”
“I sure do, Shoyo-kun.”
“I don't want to go back to the concentration. I'd like to stay here all night and watch the fireflies.”
Atsumu's gestures soften, before hiding one of Shoyo's unruly locks behind his ear. He adorns his handiwork with a flower he plucked a few seconds earlier. Hinata's cheeks color, he is transfixed, and his mouth opens loosely, before averting his gaze to the pond.
Miya takes it as a victory. One that is embedded in his chest.
“I don't want to leave here either," he answers sincerely, before lying on his back.
He contemplates the stars, they are his confidants. They have been since a couple of hazelnuts have slipped between his loins.
Miya sighs a little when he feels Shoyo lie on his side. He's plopped down without delicacy, arms outstretched. Atsumu just closed one eye and smiled in amusement at the thud.
“That must have hurt, Shōyo-kun. You should be more careful," he says with amusement. Stifling a chuckle at his words.
“It didn't hurt a bit Atsumu-san!”
“Yet, you could still hurt yourself and I'm sure Tobio-kun would kill me if anything happened to his star spiker”.
”YamaYama probably would, but I'm not the star, that's Tanaka-san.”
“Come on, Shōyo-kun, you're like super flashy! Everyone's looking at you”.
Including me, Shoyo-kun.
“You look at me, Atsumu-san? “ Shoyo asks, in a slightly bolder move. He turns his head to pay attention to Miya's every move.
He reviews his profile. That square jawline makes him look more masculine, his blond hair falling down the side of his face. The pink lips curved into a discreet smile. His strong hands were under his head. He looks so calm, Shoyo can't even imagine there's a whole revolution going on in Atsumu’s head. It's just that Miya is a coward.
“Of course, I look at you, Shōyo-kun. You're a fantastic player, I mean I like your way of eating volleyball.”
“I'm not talking about that, Atsumu-san. You're looking... at me?”
Miya is stunned, not knowing what to say, or what to do, because he has forgotten how to breathe and also how to speak. Because Hinata's gaze is on him.
Then, Atsumu looks at him sideways, he feels a second crush right there lying on the grass. Maybe it's a third or a fourth, or maybe it's the fifth. Although it is more concrete to say that he lost count after three.
“Atsumu-san?” he says doubtfully.
He wakes up in reverie. Hesitantly he turns his head slowly, and facing Shoyo there is a twinge of remorse as he realizes his face is marred with insecurity.
It's now or never.
“I... I like you Shōyo-kun, I'm not speaking as a setter. I like you and I could list the things I like about you, but I feel like I'd never finish. Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. I will understand if you decide to stop talking to me, but I would be the happiest man in the world if you wanted to be with me.
And they remain in silence, the most uncomfortable silence Atsumu has ever felt in his 18 years. Hinata doesn't say anything, doesn't even move.
Yeah, I screwed up.
he squeezes his eyes in pure frustration. He didn't expect anything, Atsumu never expected anything but loyalty from his spikers. So the feeling of Shoyo's hand on his cheek has caught him by surprise.
And he is even more taken aback by the warmth on his lips. For Hinata is kissing him, softly, slowly, with a taste of first love requited. His heart beats and the crickets sing. Their tongues collide, and dance in indecent ways. Their nerves twitch and " oh my God, have I gone to heaven?" They are inexperienced, the air runs out and they part their lips, Shoyo puts his forehead on Atsumu. Their breaths intertwine.
“I love you too, Atsumu-san. I'd love to make you the happiest man in the world!” Shoyo smiles so much that his eyes close.
Atsumu never has good ideas, but maybe, asking for Shoyo's number during his second national after his defeat; sending that first message, and answering the next ones. Saying the first "Hello," in an endless exchange of phone calls. Stealing Shoyo from his bedroom, to look at the fireflies ...
Well, maybe, Atsumu doesn't just have a bad idea.