Work Text:
i.
Atsumu falls in love for the first time with Kita Shinsuke – the one with the grey hair with black tips, doe brown eyes, a kind smile, and a gentle demeanor. His voice is soft and pleasing to listen to, and his Kanji is neat and proper. There’s something beautiful about him, something that makes Atsumu feel safe and secure and loved.
When their eyes meet, which is not often, Atsumu’s heart skips a beat. The world comes to halt, time seems to stop, and it feels like there’s nobody else but them two. He doesn’t listen when Shinsuke talks, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he’s too distracted by the tiny birthmark near Shinsuke’s ear, and the small scar next to his lips.
If need be, Atsumu could write haikus and poems and novels about Kita Shinsuke, the one who never skips practice, makes sure that all the bases are covered, gives care packages to people when they’re sick, wraps a jacket around their shoulders when they’re cold.
Caring and disciplined, that’s what – who – he is.
ii.
Kageyama Tobio is different from Kita. Kita commands, whereas Kageyama gives them space to do their thing. Kita leads, whereas Kageyama stays in the background to help. Kita doesn’t let anything get past him, whereas Tobio does.
Maybe that’s why he can get away with calling Kageyama a “goody-two shoes” – because the setter just doesn’t care. All he does is shrug and continue tying his shoes or filing his nails.
Atsumu likes that. He likes that Kageyama doesn’t give a damn except when he needs to, that he’s straightforward and precise, that he puts in the hard work even though he’s clearly got the talent.
It’s what draws him to Kageyama, but pretty soon they’re all packing up to go home, and he’s sitting on the train that’ll take him to Hyogo, and Kageyama on the one that’ll take him to Miyagi.
He doesn’t realise that he liked liked Tobio, until three months later he sees a picture of Tobio smiling with his beau, and wishes that that was him.
iii.
The love he feels for Sakusa Kiyoomi is a whole lot different. They constantly push and pull like magnets do, share little to no peace and harmony between them, and constantly keep each other on their toes. Sakusa’s never been gentle with him, and he’s never been gentle with Sakusa. That’s how it’s always been and how it always will be.
Still, he can’t help but notice how Sakusa always tapes his left hand before his right, how he never leaves the changing room without sucking on a lemon drop, how his eyes never leave the Mikasa volleyball even during time out.
And that’s only on the court.
Off the court, Atsumu learns that Sakusa doesn’t like spicy food, doesn’t like taking pictures of himself, absolutely hates buttered popcorn but likes the caramel one, likes watching movies that either have an unexpected twist or an open ending.
Still, Atsumu doesn’t want to stop there. He wants to know more, because it’s never enough when it comes to Sakusa.
His love is never enough when it comes to Sakusa.
iv.
With Hinata Shoyou, it’s the opposite. Hinata is so full of love, full of life, it makes even the most indifferent of them smile. His energy is just what Atsumu needs to make it through the day, even on those days when he doesn’t want to wake up. Being around him is easy and welcoming, and it’s never difficult to strike up a conversation with the human embodiment of sunshine.
That’s why he – Atsumu – probably fell in love with him. It’s the warmth and comfort, along with his desire to never stop improving, that attracted him. The amount of times Hinata has been scolded by Coach, Meian-san and Iwaizumi is staggering, and yet the blocker still continues to stay back and practice. If that’s not dedication, Atsumu doesn’t know what is.
But it’s the other things, like his awesome taste in music, his awe-inspiring cooking skills, his willingness to try fugu and other exotic dishes – that made the setter fall harder. There’s always an element of surprise to his actions, and never a dull moment when he’s there.
And Atsumu wants that. He wants to be sad and happy and excited and happy with Shoyou.
It’s not the same with Shoyou though, since Shoyou already has someone.
That’s not surprising, but it still hurts.
v.
What he feels for Rintarou has none of that. Instead, loving Rintarou is filled with a sense of familiarity and homeliness, like listening to a song that reminds you of the good ol’ days, or returning to a place that you like.
It’s also a slow type of love, one that is built after months and years of being together and apart, one that never fades.
When their hands touch and eyes meet, Atsumu feels whole. He feels complete, like Rintarou was always supposed to be the one.
Maybe he was, because he’s always been there. Every city, every stadium, every building, Rintarou has always been there. They’ve shared detergent, made half-baked brownies, went on konbini runs at 1 in the morning, slept next to each other after a long day of training, taken care of each other without acknowledging that they do.
It doesn’t surprise him when Rintarou confesses, doesn’t surprise him when Rintarou leans in and he does the same. Rintarou knows him, through and through, and although it might not be the same for him, he’s sure as hell going to try.
+
One year and two months later, he kisses Rintarou in front of the people in the stadium after they win. Rintarou returns the kiss, and despite being sweaty and exhausted, hugs Atsumu tightly.
The next day, their relationship starts trending on Twitter.
Rintarou laughs about it and Atsumu smiles, happy that his partner is happy.
+
Four years and six months later, Atsumu gets down on one knee.
Rintarou says yes.