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Sakusa Kiyoomi is an expert at a lot of things. He knows exactly what ingredients have what effects in the various bleaches and sanitisers he regularly buys from the small shop nearest his house.
He knows exactly where to touch the ball when it hangs in midair, exactly how soft or hard to hit, exactly when to add spin and exactly how much, so that that flash of yellow will land on the other side of the court without meeting any resistance it can't smash right through.
He knows exactly what movements will build which muscles at training; he knows how to read Motoya's face like it's an open book when he's up to something; he could make a backstreet alleyway shine like new with his expert cleaning skills if he wanted to.
But there's one thing. Just one thing, that Sakusa Kiyoomi is not an expert at. And it just so happens to be the one thing he wants to do most of all. He--
"Helloooo? Ya there, Omi-omi?" comes a voice, accompanied by a tanned hand waving obnoxiously in front of his face.
"Obviously I am," Kiyoomi replies, bristling at the interruption to his important thought process.
"I dunno, ya looked like ya were off in space, 'stead of sittin' here on this bench. Somethin' up?"
Through the joke, Kiyoomi picks up a hint of something in his voice... something other than that godawful accent.
This is another thing he's an expert in, and one he'd never have expected in a million years: Miya Atsumu.
It turns out that Kiyoomi and Atsumu, despite all the credible and sane reasons not to, have decided to.... date. A month ago. And what a long month it's been already; not just because of how irritating Atsumu is, but because of... well.
"I'm fine, must not have gotten enough sleep last night," Kiyoomi answers, putting an end to Atsumu's line of questioning. "Is... Are you... fine, too?"
Atsumu barks out a laugh, but that hint of something is still showing in his face. "Don't force yourself, Omi."
Kiyoomi lets a long breath blow through his mask and looks straight at the man sitting next to him. Atsumu seems to shift under his gaze, and a spike of anxiety hits Kiyoomi's stomach. "I'm being serious. Is everything okay?"
Atsumu laughs again, but breathier this time, and turns his face away from Kiyoomi's scrutiny. "Ah... yeah. 'M fine, it's just..."
He trails off, and Kiyoomi's expert knowledge tells him now's the time to push.
"Go on..."
Atsumu looks like he'd prefer to be two inches tall at this moment, and it's rare to see the usually loud setter so quiet. He takes a deep breath and says something Kiyoomi never would've expected.
"Why haven't ya kissed me yet?"
Kiyoomi is floored. Despite itself, his heart has been doing nervous backflips for the last five minutes: he was sure he was about to be broken up with. Definitely. Or so he'd thought...
When he realises the truth his face heats up instantly, embarrassingly so, and it is this heat that fries his brain wholly and utterly. That is the only excuse he can come up with for actually saying his next words out loud.
"I... don't know. How to do it."
"Ya don't know?" Atsumu says, whipping his head around incredulously. "I. What? THE Sakusa Kiyoomi has never kissed anyone?"
"Well don't say it like that! I've been. Busy. I never got around to it."
Please can the ground swallow him. Pretty please. With sugar. Now. Now.
"Kiyoomi that's the fuckin' cutest thing I've ever heard. And here I thought ya didn't like me!" Atsumu admits, laughing, though that unease hasn't entirely dissipated.
"Of course I like you, Miya, or else I wouldn't subject myself to your personality on such a regular basis."
Atsumu laughs again, and finally that edge is gone. Vanished, like a puff of smoke on the wind.
"Yer a real smooth-talker, ya know that Omi-omi? C'mere," and Atsumu is reaching for his hand, reaching for his mask, hooking a finger over it, pulling it down, and...
"Can I?"
Kiyoomi is on fire but, yes. Absolutely yes.
He must've said it out loud, because Atsumu chuckles lightly, shakily, before he leans in and... kisses him.
It's soft, and gentle, and Atsumu tastes like the sweet bread he just ate, like sugar and a little bit of spice, and Sakusa wishes he could taste this every moment of every day.
When they break apart, Atsumu looks almost shy, though he tries to hide it. "Yer pretty good. For a newbie."
And Kiyoomi can't help himself. He dives straight back in, pushes their lips together again like he's been waiting his whole life to do it. Well, it has been a long month.
They kiss for hours, or maybe just a few minutes, and a distant voice in the back of Kiyoomi's head thinks:
I'll become an expert at this.