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Maybe it’s because he finished practice early, or maybe it’s the weather, not unbearably hot yet not terribly cold either. It’s just right, a beautiful late summer evening that gives Atsumu just the tiniest skip in his light steps. Or maybe it’s the music flowing through his ears, his favourite singer’s newest album playing on repeat as he walks the familiar streets on his way home. Whatever it is, Atsumu feels good. Really good. Something about the day has just been… great .
He inhales deeply as he opens his front door to the fresh, warm smell of home. His fingers dance over the back of the couch and he kicks his shoes off without a care in the world. They land hopelessly on different ends of the living room, left behind as he’s already found his way to the kitchen. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows he’s getting shit for that later on but right now he can’t find it in himself to care.
There’s a ‘thank you’ post-it note stuck neatly on the fridge, right next to the messy, crumpled piece of paper he’d stuck on with tape that morning explaining what was in the lunch-box he had prepared. It’s straight and neatly written with a nicely drawn heart in the corner and it makes him smile.
With his cheeks lifted and his spirits even higher, Atsumu places his phone into his speaker dock and dances lightly around the kitchen as he prepares dinner. It’s started raining now, the sound of the droplets falling against the window mixed with his footsteps creating the ideal atmosphere for a good night.
It’s not until he’s in his pyjamas, sprawled over the only couch and barely paying any attention to whatever’s playing on the TV screen in front of him, that he hears the click of the front door. For some reason, a grin automatically forms over his features and he grabs at the remote control, sitting up to switch the TV off. The door opens and the first thing he sees is a pristine suit now soaked by the rain and a vicious shake of terribly messy black curls. Then he sees Kiyoomi's tired, annoyed frown and something in his stomach just flips. An odd sort of realisation flushes over him, drowning him from head to toe and he wonders just how many times can he feel like this before it gets old.
Atsumu watches with a fond smile as Kiyoomi sighs tiredly and takes off his shoes, still placing them tidily on their shoe rack whilst mumbling about how much he hates the rain. He then proceeds to unbutton his blazer and puts it straight into the wash basket before he even realises that someone else is already in the house. His eyes widen for the shortest of seconds, forming the most adorable of expressions until he spots Atsumu and looks back at him, surprised.
“Hey?” His voice is pleasant, despite the fact that he’s just had a shower with his stupidly expensive clothes still on. “I wasn’t expecting you to be home already, what happened?” Kiyoomi asks him with a soft smile and Atsumu swears he can feel his heart beating so heavy it feels like his chest will give way and rip apart any minute now.
“Early finish.” Atsumu shrugs. “Coach hadta leave so I did some serve practice and left.”
“Well it’s nice seeing you home before me for once.” Kiyoomi says, sitting down next to him with a familiar kiss of the cheek. He smells like damp rain and Atsumu's favourite cologne. He loves it.
“By the way, Omi, you’re welcome. I took the liberty of makin’ us dinner.” He says, already laughing on the inside. Kiyoomi groans at him, totally not thankful in the slightest. “Chicken breast with a tonne of veggies.” Atsumu tells him with a laugh, fully expecting the disgusted expression he receives and loving it all the more.
“Why my twisted brain made me fall for a fitness freak, I’ll never know.” Kiyoomi sighs dramatically, but then he's shaking his head with that tiny smile he has reserved just for Atsumu. “I know, I know, it’s good for me. Even if it tastes gross since you can't cook for shit. Shame Osamu had to take all the good cooking genes.”
Atsumu rolls his eyes, “Like you're any better.”
“I’m definitely better than you.”
Well Atsumu can’t argue with that. It seems Osamu must have sucked out any ability he had to make good food when they were still in the womb. It's clearly the only explanation as to why Osamu’s cooking is so much better than the average person.
Kiyoomi tells him he’s not yet hungry though and is about to leave to change but something inside makes Atsumu stop him. He grabs on to his sleeve and doesn’t let him go, he doesn’t want to let him go just yet. “Wait Omi! Tell me about yer day!”
Kiyoomi stops in his turn to leave with a raised eyebrow. “Can’t that wait? I just wanna get fresh-“
Atsumu cuts him off with a shake of his head. “You can change later, just sit here with me for a bit.”
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes fondly, but he relents. He always does. He sits back down, bringing his legs up, warm against Atsumu's side. Atsumu listens as Kiyoomi tells him about the boss’s new secretary and how he feels bad that everyone doubts her skills, and of the cute new edition to their team that makes the office so much brighter. Kiyoomi's never been much of a talker, but when it's just the two of them, he gets lost in his stories and Atsumu gets so lost in staring that at some point he forgets to actually listen. He lays his cheek on his palm and all he can see is Kiyoomi. The way he just barely smiles when he recalls something funny that happened in the day, the way he looks at him, the way his heart flutters the same after all these years, it’s all… it’s just amazing .
Atsumu feels his smile growing wider and his mood get even better than before. Kiyoomi’s not doing anything but simply telling him about his day, his deft fingers hovering over his arm, causing tingles to travel up his skin, and he can only feel his heart hopelessly swell. He’s so far gone, he has been for years, there’s nothing new about that but tonight he feels like shouting it out into the sky. No reason behind it. Kiyoomi distractedly shakes his slowly drying hair, causing droplets to land on his face yet still failing to snap him out of his daze.
Ah, how could he possibly ever deserve someone like Sakusa Kiyoomi? Someone so smart and funny and hardworking, someone that gives him the cutest of smiles and always understands him. The only person other than his twin brother to be able to take his jabs and give back just as much as he gets. He even comes to watch all of his volleyball matches! An angel so lovely and brilliant and just- just…
“Are you even listening, Atsumu?”
“Huh?” Atsumu blinks dumbly, and Kiyoomi lets out a scoff then shakes his head fondly.
“Dumbass,” He brings his fingers up to softly move some of the hair away from Atsumu’s face, then brings his hand down to his neck and gives him the smallest of kisses. It’s short but sweet, it’s Kiyoomi in an essence, and Atsumu would take it any day over anything else.
“I best get freshened up, I’m starting to feel extremely gross.” Kiyoomi yawns with a stretch. “There’s some cake in that bag for you by the way, picked it up on the way home and because of that detour, I ended up getting drenched in the rain.” He makes a silly face and something in Atsumu’s head just goes pop.
“Cake can wait.” He declares, standing up in a flash. “Freshenin’ up can wait too.” Atsumu smiles wide, so wide it feels like his cheeks are touching his eyelashes, and he takes a swift hold of Kiyoomi’s slightly bigger hand. He drags him up off the sofa and towards their back door, pulling hard and reaching the key fast. Once Kiyoomi realises Atsumu is about to step outside, he digs his feet into the ground to stop them from going any further but it’s a pathetic attempt really since Kiyoomi’s only form of exercise these days is playing volleyball for fun and Atsumu is a professional that basically works out for a living.
He lets go once he’s opened the door, running out onto the grass, still slightly damp from the rain though it isn’t as bad as he had thought it would be. “Atsu, shoes!” Kiyoomi shouts behind him, but it goes unheard as he runs over to the big tree they have in their large back garden, yelling happily about how the ground is still very much dry there.
“Come with me Sakusa Kiyoomi!” Atsumu shouts with his hands around his lips. “Come on! Let’s have some fun!”
Kiyoomi looks down at his bare feet, then at the grass, contemplating whether it’s worth it and to be honest, all he really wants right now is a good shower, some warm, ironed clothes and to be able to tame his frizzy hair. But as he looks up to the sound of loud, clear laughter, an accent he can never get enough of, he rolls his eyes and takes big leaps until he gets to the dry grass. Atsumu catches him on his stumbling last leap but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.
“Are you crazy?! What are you doing?” Kiyoomi chides. “Let’s go back inside.”
“Dance with me.” Atsumu smiles easily, putting on Kiyoomi’s ‘favourites’ playlist and throwing the phone to the swing seat just behind them.
He stares at the swing for a short second, thinking of how meaningful it is to them, how many first times they’ve had just sitting there. The day Kiyoomi first cried over his last official volleyball match when they were just teenagers and Atsumu had consoled him all evening on that very swing when it was still in the back of his parent’s house. The nights they would spend trying to do homework when they would always end up falling asleep along with the gentle rock of the wind. Their first kiss. The first time Atsumu admitted to liking Kiyoomi.
‘Like’ was definitely not the right word to describe the immense feelings he has, Atsumu thinks now. It’s more like, ‘adores’ or ‘loves endlessly’ or maybe ‘can’t and won’t live without.’ Somewhere along those lines. Atsumu couldn’t be more in love if he tried, not that he would ever need to since Kiyoomi makes it so easy because well, Kiyoomi is such an amazing person, such a good man, friend and lover. So patient and practical, so precious, he’s really… really so-
“Remember when ya broke up with me?” Atsumu says quietly, breaking the short silence that had settled and stopping Kiyoomi’s small movements. “Right there? On that swing?”
“Why are you bringing that up now?” Kiyoomi says, holding him just that little bit closer and keeping his lips to his forehead. If anyone was to look in on the scene, they’d look crazy, slow dancing to one of the most upbeat, silly songs on Kiyoomi’s playlist.
“I just remembered.” He shrugs.
“We had our fair share of ups and downs.” Kiyoomi sighs wistfully. “And we were just kids, we didn’t know anything. If I hadn’t done that then, we might not have been where we are now, right?”
Atsumu nods just as the song changes, Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ now playing loudly from his phone and he doubles over in laughter as Kiyoomi fails at moon walking because he didn’t want to slide his feet into dirt. He takes to doing fancy twirls and silly robot moves while Kiyoomi starts popping his joints in a way that should be impossible.
He could spend the rest of his life like this, he knows it, with a Kiyoomi that brings him his favourite cake on his way home and impromptu dance parties in their bare feet on the warm grass. They would dance until their legs could no longer hold them, then Kiyoomi would force him to shower just when he tries to curl up in their bed and then they’d hold each other until they fell asleep. Atsumu could spend days on days on days thinking about it but he needn’t bother since it’s all a reality. A brilliant, unimaginable reality, it’s simply quite… ideal .
“Did I ever tell you how brilliant you are?” Atsumu says out of the blue, and Kiyoomi snorts while simultaneously body rolling to ‘Uptown Funk’.
“Only like every night.”
“Well it’s because you are.”
“You think I don’t know”?
Atsumu shoves him on the shoulder with a laugh but Kiyoomi just pulls him back, even closer than before and now they’re slow dancing, hand in hand, to probably the least romantic song on the whole planet, and yet it feels so right.
“Why is ‘March Madness’ in this playlist, you freak?”
“Why not?” Kiyoomi answers, waving his eyebrows.
“You’re so odd.”
Atsumu puts his head down, smiling stupidly towards the ground. Kiyoomi truly is an oddball, one that has to keep everything immaculately in place, always dances crazily offbeat, wears the most ridiculous neon pyjamas and compiles the weirdest of songs together, yet, he is an oddball that fully owns Atsumu’s whole heart. Oh, how he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I definitely don’t deserve ya.” Atsumu tells him, looking up and he means it. He doesn’t think anyone deserves someone like Kiyoomi. He’s found an angel hiding in-between all the ordinary, boring humans and for some reason he’s settled for just Atsumu.
“So you do know?” Kiyoomi jokes but Atsumu’s expression stays serious. “Don’t be silly.” Kiyoomi says then, voice just above a whisper. “If anything, I don’t know what I could have ever done to deserve someone like you.” Atsumu shakes his head, about to disagree, like he always does but Kiyoomi cuts him off. “You’re amazing, Atsumu. You’re funny, hardworking, honest, loving, you’re beautiful and a really good kisser. I could go on all night, don’t think I can’t beat you.”
“Well of course you can’t, I beat you in everything unless it’s cooking or spelling.” Atsumu retorts and it’s embarrassing how serious he is. The music suddenly goes very quiet, softly playing a slow song to match their movements but they don’t have to strain their ears to hear it. It’s their favourite song, it’s their song. It plays automatically in their heads.
“Have ya ever seen yerself, Kiyoomi? Have ya ever looked in a mirror?” Atsumu starts in a manner as if he’s about to go into full attack mode. “Do ya even realise how good of a person you are, how generous and kind and adorable, sweet, funny and damn, how much of a good kisser ya also are? Because I do, I feel it every day and sometimes, on nights like this, I just want to tell ya and have ya acknowledge it ‘cause it’s not fair that I have to hold this all in all the time, ya massive asshole.” He rants, out of breath and with an expression like he’s been severely wronged. “Ya don’t even know how lucky I feel.” He continues softly, bringing his palm to Kiyoomi’s cheek. “Yes, yer always cracking lame jokes and ya never like my healthy food, ya get cranky if you see mess and you’ll never join me at the gym anymore but ya also make me laugh like crazy, eat whatever I make without complaints, be as understandin’ as ya can of my messy-
“Disgusting.” Kiyoomi corrects.
“Fine, disgustin’ ways and at least ya always come to cheer me on at games. Point is Saukusa Kiyoomi, how was I ever able to get so lucky? How are you real?”
Kiyoomi stares at him, silent for a while before he sighs and speaks up. “You know this sudden epiphany you’re having? This realisation you come to every few months or so where you promise you’ll be even better to me from now on because you don’t deserve me and what not? Then you go back, make a mess of the bathroom and miss the laundry basket when you launch your dirty clothes at it and completely forget about your promise. It’s stupid.” Kiyoomi says. “Atsu, you’re not the lucky one here and even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t need to ever change anything about yourself. I’m the blunt jerk that somehow bagged the funny, good looking athlete everyone obsesses over. I mean look at me, I’m still all damp, my face is probably shadowed by my dark circles and my hair looks like a bird lives in it. Compared to you, standing there in pyjamas and still looking so good, I even look a mess tonight.”
Atsumu frowns at that, shaking his head silently. “No you don’t.” He says, tugging on Kiyoomi’s tie and bringing his face closer. He captures him in a soft, slow kiss, sighing through his nostrils in delight as Kiyoomi does the exact same. The hand in his tightens it's hold and Atsumu realises they don’t need to say anything more. Their song reaches to their favourite bit and when Atsumu closes his eyes, he sees fireworks and bright lights and he’s amazed how every time is like their very first time, as kids who didn’t know anything but pure love.
When he pulls away, he sees the same pretty smile he fell for when he was just 16, on the opposite side of a volleyball court. The eyes that look at him with every ounce of love a person could probably give. He slaps away the hand Kiyoomi starts using to awkwardly fix his hair and softly shakes his head once again. “No Omi,” He smiles. “You look perfect tonight.”