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Summary
“Took that Pilates class SunaRin suggested,” Atsumu said. “And now everythin’ hurts an’ m’dyin’.” He must have seen a worried look from Hinata or Bokuto, because he amended himself. “Metaphorically.”
“That reminds me of this time in Brazil where I—”
“You should get a massage,” Kiyoomi said, after a quick calculation where he weighed the cost of engaging Atsumu in conversation against listening to another fucking Brazil story.
“That would involve goin’ somewhere, an’ I can hardly walk,” Atsumu whined, literally whined, like a toddl—oh, wait, I’ve already used that one today. Like a punk ass bitch. There you go. Nice one, Kiyoomi.
“I’ve got a Theragun,” Kiyoomi said, offered, damn it, why was he getting involved?
“What’s that?” Atsumu mumbled.
“A high-end massager!” Hinata chirped, his mouth full. My trainer in Brazil had one! It’s like—"
“Come here,” Kiyoomi said, yanking Atsumu from the couch, and taking him and his book into his room, before Hinata could get any further.
Series
- Part 33 of Threads 🧵🪡 and I'm the Needle