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Kiyoomi has the worst roommate of all time.
He disrespects his things, doesn’t clean up after himself, and brings people over without warning at weird hours.
Kiyoomi is forced to deal with the situation despite how it grates on his nerves — he can’t afford to live alone.
Actually, the fact is, he probably could afford it. He’d only have to adjust some things...and move. It’s not like he doesn’t have access to the funds. The main thing stopping him is the location. This apartment is so convenient in relation to the (few) other places he frequents.
The only downside, really, is his asshole roommate.
Enter one Miya Atsumu, who will show up to save the day at the drop of a hat — or, the instant Kiyoomi texts him to vent his frustrations whenever unwanted guests arrive.
Atsumu is rowdy and loud and so PRESENT that usually his roommate AND their guest disappear as quickly as they came in. Normally that kind of presence would frustrate Kiyoomi, but with Atsumu, it feels different.
Besides, in an instant, Atsumu recalculates. Although he is still very present and still very...ATSUMU...he’s calmer. It’s weirdly soothing behavior, to have someone so familiar around when they can be just as boisterous as his roommate. At least with Atsumu, he’s not an asshole /all the time/. It’s a different kind of asshole behavior – one that Kiyoomi finds he kind of likes…not that he would /ever/ admit that out loud. It helps Kiyoomi feel less like a visitor in his own house when Atsumu is there.
It's months of Atsumu coming around uninvited (but not unwelcome) at all hours before Kiyoomi actually realizes that he’s acting as a guard dog. Atsumu knows whenever his roommate is being a dick, because Kiyoomi texted him about it like it’s second nature. He doesn’t have to ask him to come. He just appears out of nowhere, and it’s only at that point Kiyoomi remembers texting him.
Then he starts noticing the death glares Atsumu fires off at said roommate and company.
Atsumu’s attitude towards them is always cold and clipped, and his facial expressions are always entire ignorance or calculated aggression. It’s impressive, on a kind of ridiculous level.
Another few weeks pass before Kiyoomi glances to Atsumu sprawled across his couch, once again without an invitation, and points it out (to both himself, and Atsumu).
“My roommate has been behaving better lately. There hasn’t even been a guest here in at least a week.”
“Good,” Atsumu grunts, not looking away from the television. “Maybe he got the message.”
“And what message is that?” Kiyoomi prods.
“That yer not to be treated that way,” Atsumu shrugs casually. He’s fiddling with his phone, still not looking Kiyoomi in the eye.
“So you’ve been protecting me?”
“Ya don’t need protectin’, Omi-Omi. Yer just too polite to tell him to get out.”
“I—” Kiyoomi starts, but the sentence stops there. He opens his mouth to speak again, and his eyebrows furrow.
Atsumu finally turns his gaze towards him with a pointed look. “Am I wrong?”
“No,” Kiyoomi admits, stepping closer. He’s towering above Atsumu, hovering like he can’t decide whether to pull Atsumu up or sit down next to him.
Then, suddenly, it’s like the final puzzle piece clicks into place as Atsumu shifts to sit up a little straighter.
Kiyoomi, against all his logical reasoning skills, leans down and crashes their lips together. Atsumu reaches forward and grabs him by the waist and roll him over into the couch in an instant. Their lips never disconnect.
“Finally,” he sighs happily, directly into Kiyoomi’s mouth.
******
Later, after they shower and change clothes and made it to the bed to recoup, Kiyoomi turns to him. Atsumu looks good in his clothes, despite the difference in fit – or perhaps, because of it. Maybe it’s because they’re Kiyoomi’s clothes /on/ Atsumu. He’s not more than an inch away, but they’ve been staring at the ceiling and idly chatting for nearly an hour now. Atsumu turns on his side again to mirror his position so they can face each other.
“Was this always your goal?” Kiyoomi questions.
“Thought that was pretty obvious,” Atsumu smirks.
“What made you do it?”
“Ya really don’t know, do ya?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I did,” Kiyoomi says, with a hint of snark.
“Fair,” Atsumu laughs. It bubbles up out of his chest unprompted to accompany his answer.
“Well?” Kiyoomi prompts.
“Since ya obviously haven’t noticed despite my entire lack of the ability to be subtle,” Atsumu begins.
“Don’t use my own words against me,” Kiyoomi cracks the barest hint of a smile, recalling many times he’s used the same phrase to describe Atsumu before.
“I’ve been head over heels for ya since high school, Omi. Turns out I just had to get pissed off about some loser makin’ ya upset all the time to say anything about it.”
Kiyoomi practically ignores the statement. “That’s awfully possessive,” he muses.
“Protective, not possessive.” Atsumu instantly corrects. “You don't need protectin', 'course ya don't, but I’d do anything to make ya happier.”
“Oh,” Kiyoomi nods, nearly dumbfounded.
Atsumu grins. “Yeah, ‘oh’.”
He must know, Kiyoomi realizes, that he feels the same way.
He hadn’t ever said anything before because he didn't realize he /did/ feel that way, and now that he's finally realized it, he didn’t dare think Atsumu would reciprocate his fondness – at least, not in the same manner. But here they are, and...here he does, apparently.
“So, how about movin’ in with me instead?” Atsumu drops abruptly.
“What?”
“Just think about it,” Atsumu suggests, then straddles him. “And don’t let this cloud yer judgment." He smirks, then addss, "Or do, if it works out in my favor."
******
Kiyoomi moves. He doesn’t know, or care, who replaces him at his old apartment.
All he cares about his how full of Atsumu his new apartment is, and how even so, he never feels like it’s any less Kiyoomi than it is Atsumu.
Osamu starts a betting pool on how long before they’re married.
Everyone who finds out about it has logical conjectures about the timeframe of the proposal. Osamu wins on a technicality because although they do have a ceremony about a year after moving in together, they had gone to the courthouse at Atsumu’s joking suggestion and Kiyoomi’s insistence the day after their first time, which is almost verbatim what Samu had predicted.
There’s something to be said about patience, and something else to be said about absolute certainty. Kiyoomi is absolutely certain that he’ll never meet anyone more determined to be happy with him than Atsumu.