Chapter Text
"Sakusa-san! I'm so glad you made it!"
Either the MSBY Black Jackals’ local ginger had a very loud and familiar voice, or Atsumu had been trying to find Kiyoomi as soon as the team's annual holiday party started and was focusing on any slight mention of him. He was beginning to get impatient and decided to drink some of the eggnog to pass the time, which was actually a lot shorter than he thought it was. But, of course, no one told the setter that the eggnog was spiked because Inunaki convinced everyone else to wait it out and see what would happen.
"Omi!! Thank god ya're here!" Atsumu immediately rushed over, trying to seem as casual as possible, but everyone immediately saw through it. Not only because Atsumu had been anxiously (and obviously) waiting for the hitter's arrival but also because he was decently drunk by now, not that he was paying attention or caring.
"Hello, Miy- MIYA?" Kiyoomi exclaimed indignantly, interrupted by the setter dragging him across the venue to a nearby table.
"We've been in the middle of a- a…." Atsumu let go of his arm and paused, looking confused, then gesturing to the table and looking like he had forgotten the name of it.
"Cup pong? Miya, I don't think this is a good idea." Kiyoomi searched Atsumu's face, sobering the latter enough to be self-conscious and allow a slight blush to his cheeks before moving on.
"Nonsense! We're playing with eggnog! Besides, we're playing Hinata and Bokuto," Atsumu looked around before leaning in and whispering to Kiyoomi. "An easy win if ya ask me…." He straightened up and watched Kiyoomi think about it before he finally nodded.
"Okay, let's do this."
"That's the spirit, Omi! Now, which side would ya like….”
———
Hinata and Bokuto were not an easy win.
Atsumu and Kiyoomi shouldn't have challenged the two people with the best depth perceptions and accuracy on the team, but here they were, getting their asses kicked.
Atsumu was very drunk by now, his original tipsiness not helping with his own accuracy and having to drink about half of their cups.
Kiyoomi was also drunk, but not nearly as bad, but having already finished the other half and just now picking up their last cup, he glared at Atsumu as he drank it, signifying their loss. Atsumu, who had the audacity to laugh at him, turned to shake their opponents' hands. Once Kiyoomi had done the same, he noticed a lack of Atsumu behind him when he went to ask him what was next. He spun around for a moment, confused about the lack of their blonde setter. Hinata seemed to notice, so he pointed towards the bathroom.
“He ran that way! He didn’t look too good,” He teased, turning and laughing about something Bokuto said. Atsumu’s situation dawned on Kiyoomi before he hurried over to the bathroom while he replaced and doubled up on the mask he discarded before the cup-pong game.
“Miya?” He called out softly before hearing the sound of his worst nightmare, sobbing. He quickly located the source of the sound and knocked on the stall door. “Miya, are you alright? I’m coming in-”
“No!” The setter exclaimed, his voice scratchy from crying. “Don’t come in. Ya’ll get really grossed out… Let me clean up a bit. Will ya please wait outside?”
Kiyoomi hesitated, then agreed. “Let me know if I can help you with anything, okay, Atsu?” There was a pause and then slight noise of acknowledgment from the other man that assured Kiyoomi enough to step outside and wait anxiously, just like Atsumu was only a few hours before.
It took Atsumu longer than Kiyoomi expected, so his anxiety soon turned into paranoia. So, he pulled out his phone and looked up what to do if someone had alcohol poisoning, the symptoms, and where the nearest hospital was. Just as he was falling down his rabbit hole and looking up emergency phone numbers around the world, Atsumu stopped him by opening the door and gesturing for him to come inside.
“Do ya have an extra mask? I don’t wanna gross ya out,” Atsumu asked softly, voice still a little hoarse. Kiyoomi nodded and quickly gave one to him. He looks really pale… He noted quietly to himself.
“Here, wanna sit down?” Kiyoomi locked the bathroom door so no one would walk in and ask them a million questions, and then gestured to a spot on the ground that looked the less disgusting. Even though it was a very clean-looking bathroom, Kiyoomi never took chances. Once Atsumu sat on the cool tile, Kiyoomi joined him, ignoring the cold and the germs, and all of the thoughts in his head that told him to do the exact opposite. The pair sat silently for a few minutes, listening to the loud yet muffled music from the main room. After a few minutes, Kiyoomi looked over to the blonde, who had his eyes closed and looked like he was in pain. “Are you alright?” Atsumu just turned and gave him a look. “You know what I mean. What happened?”
“Halfway through the game, I started getting really dizzy and seeing double for a while. And then, I started getting sick near the end, but when I shook their hands, it got too much, and I ran into here… I ended up throwing up, which is why I didn’t think ya’d want to come in here,” Atsumu’s voice was slightly muffled by the cloth Kiyoomi gave him. “‘M sorry, Omi. I didn’t want to burden ya… It’s Christmas, and I don’t even know why I got sick! It’s stupid….” His arms muffled the last part, which had come to rest on top of the knees Atsumu had started hugging to his chest.
“Atsu,” He said, letting the nickname slip once again and once again missing the furious blush on his face. “You’re never a bother to me. Please never think that again. I’m always here for you, sick or not… But what do you mean you ‘don’t know why’ you got sick?”
“...Do ya know why? I haven’t eaten anything since I got here, but the only thing I’ve drunken was the nasty eggnog-”
“Then it’s probably alcohol poisoning,” Kiyoomi said with slight horror. That was nothing to scoff at, and if Atsumu was poisoned-
“But I don’t drink alcohol, it makes me feel bad, and I’ve done some pretty crazy stuff while drunk,”
“...But the eggnog is alcoholic? Everyone was talking about it. How did you not see Inunaki adding something to it?” Kiyoomi’s voice was raising octaves by the second as his horror grew. He started moving towards Atsumu, putting his hands on his cheeks and removing his and Atsumu’s masks so he could see, then mentally going through the list of symptoms he had looked up only minutes before and checking if any applied to Atsumu. Fortunately, none seemed to except for a flush of color on his face. Kiyoomi was starting to get worried again, so he turned Atsumu’s face toward his. He hadn’t realized how close they were until they nearly brushed noses. Atsumu’s face was even redder, and he refused to look Kiyoomi in the eye. “Atsumu, are you feeling alright? Your face is super red. Now, I don’t think that was on the list of symptoms, but I’ll have to check again….”
“Omi! ’M fine… I have a pretty high alcohol tolerance. I just don’t like to drink it because when I’m under the influence my brain tells me that all of the stupid stuff that I don’t need to do to survive, and some of the stuff that probably won’t leave me surviving, is all worth it and to ‘just do it because when else are ya?’ And while it’s right on that last point, it’s not the best idea and always leads me down the worst paths ever. It all starts after the first drink and goes downhill from there, and… I don’t even know how many drinks I’ve had, but this is the worst of my drunk mind’s suggestions in years….” The pair just stared at each other for a while. Neither had moved since Kiyoomi noticed their proximity, but neither seemed to plan to do so either. So they just sat there, staring and searching the other’s face. That was until Kiyoomi asked the forbidden question.
“Well… What is it telling you to do, Atsu?” It was small, as if it would break the tension. They both could feel it. Both could move away. Kiyoomi was in no way comfortable in the position he was in, but neither moved away. There was silence for another few moments. Moments that Atsumu used to hype himself up. Then, a deep breath and a voice even smaller than Kiyoomi’s.
“What if I told ya it was suggesting something about ya?” A pause, and then with more confidence and fierce eye contact. “What if I told ya it was suggesting- No, demanding that the next time ya call me ‘Atsu,’ I grab yer face and kiss ya like there is tomorrow,” He stopped to lean forward enough to touch noses. “What would ya do then?” He then noticed a small smirk on the other’s face, and a single word whispered into the air between them.
“Atsu…”