Work Text:
Atsumu had always known Sakusa Kiyoomi was a good-looking guy.
If he had to be completely honest, he’d known that since he was fifteen, when he still hadn’t figured out his sexuality and the two of them got on each other’s nerves quite easily.
Once Sakusa joined the MSBY Black Jackals, Atsumu had the chance to personally assess how attractive the guy was, but it never caused him problems. Or at least, up until now.
Atsumu blamed it on the looks, but deep down, he knew it was something else, something he still hadn’t got the courage to admit to himself.
Something that made his heart race in his chest, and his cheeks heat up too easily, something that made him all flustered whenever Sakusa’s attention lingered on him for a second too long.
And if he was feeling like a teenager with his first crush all over again, he could really only blame it on his own self.
1.
It was no news that Atsumu loved flirting with his friends and teammates.
Sakusa fell into both categories and, along with the fact that all he could get from him were pointed glares and eye rolls, that made him Atsumu's favourite person to flirt with. He found enjoyment in trying to figure out what would make his spiker flustered, if even just the tiniest bit.
That day, he'd spilled Sakusa's energetic drink on Sakusa's own towel, of all places. The owner of the two was currently giving him a look in between the pissed off and disgusted spectrum. Even as Atsumu finished cleaning up the mess he'd made and sanitized his hands, the scowl on Sakusa's face wouldn't disappear.
"Omi, stop lookin' at me like that. Makes me wanna kiss ya," he joked.
Sakusa only narrowed his eyes at him before deflating and rolling his eyes. His expression took on exasperation as he sighed: "Please don't, Miya."
"But Omi!" Atsumu protested, delighted with the fact that for once Sakusa had dignified him with an answer.
"Find somebody else to kiss, if you really feel the need to," the spiker continued. "I'm sure Inunaki-san would be most honoured."
The libero in question turned around. “Ew, no thanks.”
Atsumu laughed. “But Omi,” he tried again, with a pout this time. “It’s ya that I wanna kiss.”
Sakusa raised an eyebrow at him. “You wouldn’t have the guts.”
Atsumu scoffed. “Whaddaya mean? Wanna test that theo–”
But before he could complete the sentence, Sakusa invaded his personal space, his face suddenly so close Atsumu had to slightly look up to meet his eyes. Time seemed to slow down as Sakusa stared at him, expectant.
Atsumu forgot how to breathe when the spiker asked: “So?”, before lowering his gaze to Atsumu’s lips.
Atsumu caught a glint of amusement in Sakusa’s eyes and, true to that, there was a smirk on his lips when he pulled away. The setter was too stunned to speak, to move even, as everybody else made their way to the locker rooms.
“Tsum Tsum, you’ll catch a fly if you don’t close your mouth,” Bokuto said softly, as he patted him on the shoulders and took him out of his trance.
“What the fuck,” Atsumu murmured, trying to regain some composure. It was hard, however, considering his brain and body were currently working a mile per hour. He was feeling a whole lot of things. Stuff he wasn’t used to, at all.
“–an’ then he just walked away, with a smirk on his face! He was smirkin’, Samu!”
“Absolutely incredible, truly–”
“Samu!” Atsumu whined. “I’m serious. Have ya ever seen him smirk like that?!”
Osamu scoffed on the other end of the phone. “How would I have, idiot. He is yer teammate, and it certainly wasn’t me he flirted with.”
“He never did that before! He barely ever acknowledges my attempts–”
“I wonder why,” Osamu commented.
“–let alone flirt back!”
“Okay, Tsumu.” Samu cut him off with a sigh. “I get it, Sakusa flirted with ya and ya are just now realizing ya like him–”
Atsumu gasped. “What? That’s not what I was tryna…” he trailed off.
“Are ya that stupid, fer real?”
Atsumu kept silent.
“Tsumu?”
“Eh, ya know what, Samu. I’ll call ya later. I mean, see ya tomorrow, or whatever. Gotta go.”
The last thing he heard as he closed the call was Osamu snicker.
“Oh my god,” he said to the ceiling of his bedroom as he threw himself on his bed.
Did he really like Sakusa? Wasn’t it just normal to be flustered after your usually unresponsive – and very attractive – teammate basically gave you the chance to kiss him?
The only conclusion Atsumu managed to reach that night was that he wouldn’t be opposed to kissing Sakusa at all. He wouldn’t be opposed at all, and that gave him even more reasons to lay awake in bed that night, wondering about stuff he’d never considered before.
2.
In the end, Atsumu put the thought away.
No, he did not have a crush on Sakusa, he was just caught unprepared for this new side of Omi.
He still found him attractive, sure, and he also accepted the fact that he would kiss him, given the chance, but that didn’t mean there had to be romantic feelings involved, right? People found their friends attractive and kissed them all the time, so that put Atsumu’s heart at ease, to an extent.
To an extent, because in the following days he was more cautious with his jokes, heart rate picking up a bit whenever Sakusa gave him any sort of attention. But Sakusa was acting normal, so within a week the balance in their interactions was restored completely on Atsumu’s side too.
Until Thursday came, and on Thursday it was drama night.
They had established it as a routine months prior, since they both wanted to watch the same tv series at the time, and Atsumu had insisted on watching it together.
Sakusa had given in, and even when they’d finished the series, they had continued to meet up quite regularly on Thursdays, eventually making it a habit and starting to watch other stuff too. Alternatively, they would just spend some quiet time together, or play video games, or review matches, or sometimes hang out with other teammates too.
At any rate, hanging out on Thursdays was now part of their weekly routine, and they hardly missed it.
Reason why, Atsumu was currently splayed across Sakusa’s couch, humming to the theme song of a silly romance drama, completely unaware of what was ahead of him.
Sakusa got up as the credits for the episode rolled and went to refill the snacks.
“Ya know, Omi,” Atsumu started, his lips twitching up amusedly at what he planned on saying. “That thing they did where they said what they liked about each other was pretty nice, don’tcha think? We should do that too,” he teased.
This time, Atsumu was more prepared, more aware of the fact that his bad flirting attempt could receive an answer. What he wasn’t prepared for, though, was the actual answer.
Sakusa was striding back to the couch as Atsumu began: “I like–”
“I like your thighs,” Sakusa interrupted him, not breaking eye contact even as he sat down on the couch. “And your arms,” he added as an afterthought.
What.
Atsumu was well aware of his mouth hanging open, but he couldn’t help it. He was totally going to say some bullshit, and he’d expected Sakusa to do the same, because teasing each other was a natural part of their relationship.
But this, whatever this was, was not part of the plan.
“What the fuck, Omi!” Atsumu basically squeaked, voice a pitch too high.
Said Omi snorted a laugh, amusement written all over his face. “You were going to say something stupid, weren’t you?”
Atsumu tried to shrink into the sofa, hoping the heat he felt on his cheeks – on his whole face if he had to be honest, his whole body even – wasn’t showing as much as he felt it. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Yer kiddin’,” Atsumu sputtered out, because that was the only sensible thing his brain could supply him with.
“I’m not,” Sakusa replied easily, stare unwavering. “You have nice muscles.”
Atsumu’s eyes widened, his stomach churned (not an unpleasant feeling, but he’d dwell on that later). He buried his face in his hands.
"Omi," he muttered. "When did ya learn to be so… so–"
He didn't even know what to say.
"You were the one who suggested we do this. I was just giving my honest answer."
"Oh my god."
Atsumu wasn't used to this kind of dizziness.
"I like yer moles," he then blurted out, just because he felt the need to say something coherent. Not that he really thought of what to say, but at least it was sincere.
"They're pretty," he added, not sure whether it was a good idea or not, but at this point he couldn't feel more embarrassed than this.
Sakusa just hummed and mumbled a 'thanks' as he put on a new episode.
That night Atsumu came to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe, Sakusa Kiyoomi had some kind of effect on him.
But then again, he didn't have a crush on him. It was just the first time he received such a genuine compliment not related to volleyball from him, so it was just normal to feel flustered. Absolutely normal and totally not related to possible romantic attraction.
Atsumu wanted to convince himself of this, but a part of him kept insisting that maybe he did like Sakusa, and that it wouldn't be that bad of a thing.
And deep down, he knew he kind of wanted to listen to it.
3.
The voice in his head soon transformed into that of Osamu.
"Listen, ya were the one who asked me why ya feel like this, I gave ya my answer," his brother was currently rambling, annoyed at Atsumu's dramatic antics.
Atsumu sighed. "I feel like ya when ya had a crush on Sunarin and ya thought it was unrequited."
"Hey!" His brother scowled. “But yer right, I suppose,” he conceded after a beat.
He slid a plate of salmon onigiri in front of Atsumu, who gladly accepted them.
Atsumu munched thoughtfully on his onigiri, before sighing again. “I don’t like to say this, but I guess yer right too. I think I might really have a crush on Omi-kun.”
“Can’t wait to tell this to Rin. He’ll owe me dinner.”
Atsumu almost choked on rice as his brother smirked devilishly. “He what?! Were ya scrubs betting on–”
Osamu giggled. “Sure were. Ya go ‘Omi-kun this’, ‘Omi-Omi that’ all of the time. T’was just a question of when ya’d realize yer crush.”
“I am. Shocked.”
Was it really so obvious to observers? Nah, it was probably just because Osamu was his brother – his twin.
“Well, it’s not like I’ll do anythin’ ‘bout it I guess. Omi doesn’t like me back.”
Osamu scoffed. “Sakusa Kiyoomi flirts with ya, and ya really think he doesn’t like ya back?”
Atsumu sure hoped he did, but he didn’t want to admit that out loud. Also, despite his wish, he valued their friendship more than anything else, so he wouldn’t be doing anything dumb or that could make Sakusa uncomfortable.
To his chagrin, however, Sakusa had taken a liking to making Atsumu flustered and feeling like a blushy teenager.
Maybe because he’d now acknowledged his crush, but Atsumu was hyper aware of any small interaction that made his heart flutter. And Sakusa must have sensed this, because he soon started flirting with Atsumu in subtle ways.
He let his gaze linger over him, he would compliment him a bit more often and then smirk at Atsumu’s visible blush – he knew it was there because he felt his cheeks on fire.
Atsumu was sure Sakusa was enjoying himself a lot, and the truth was that Atsumu was too.
He’d never thought he’d live this kind of romance in his life; or at the very least, not in the foreseeable future. He was too focused on volleyball, and the few times he’d tried dating, he’d never really taken it anywhere because of a lack of genuine interest in the other person.
But this, with Omi.
It felt right, and it felt good. He was very favorable to giving Omi all of his love and affections and attention.
Even when he felt like he could throw up his heart from the emotion or the embarrassment.
Like right now, after they'd just won a match thanks to Atsumu's serve.
He got more service aces than Sakusa this time, and he was on his way to gloat with him when said spiker met him halfway. Amidst the chaos of victory, Sakusa leaned forward slightly and whispered to Atsumu's ear: "Nice serves today, Miya."
At least he could blame the shiver that went down his body on the adrenaline rush from the victory.
4.
“Miya, I don’t like your clothes.”
Atsumu furrowed his brows. “Whaddaya mean?”
Sakusa made a weird sound, in between a growl and a whine. “You look too good in them, it’s unfair.”
Thankfully, the loud music of the bar they were in concealed Atsumu’s strangled gasp. He took a sip from his drink and swallowed twice before finding something to say. “Okay.”
Not his smartest reply.
Sakusa scowled at him, or better, at his clothes, and Atsumu couldn’t help a snort. “What, want me to take them off?”
Sakusa widened his eyes for a second, and if Atsumu had blinked, he’d have missed it.
“I mean,” Sakusa started. “Maybe not here–”
“Omi, are ya drunk?” Atsumu was stunned, a surprised smile tugging at his lips and a laugh bubbling in his chest.
Sakusa shrugged. “Am not. Just saying–” He trailed off. “You know, never mind. I’m just a bit tipsy,” he blabbered, before taking a sip of his own drink.
“Sure,” Atsumu giggled.
It was not the first time he saw tipsy Sakusa; he just thought Omi had his flirting under control. He’d never expected him to flirt while tipsy. Could that possibly mean that maybe Sakusa liked him back..?
Atsumu finished his drink and dragged Sakusa along to regroup with the rest of their teammates and rivals, who were right at the counter at that moment. The Jackals were in fact hanging out with the Adlers after a practice match.
Everybody turned to look at them when they arrived.
“Where were you guys?” Bokuto asked, handing them two shots.
“Literally across the dance floor,” Atsumu replied, a bit confused by all the sudden attention.
“Oh,” Inunaki nodded, a smirk that promised no good on his face. “We thought you’d ended up like Hinata and Kageyama.”
Atsumu noticed just then that the two were in fact missing from the group. “Where are they?” he asked, his heart beating a bit faster.
He knew very well the two were a couple, so whatever the answer would be, Atsumu would probably want to disappear.
“Behind that column,” Adriah snickered.
Atsumu didn’t even bother to turn around. He could very well imagine what was going on. Instead, he replied: “I mean, good for them.”
“So, nothing?” Inunaki smugly asked.
“Nothin’ what?”
Bokuto helpfully gestured between him and Sakusa.
Inunaki sighed at their furrowed eyebrows. “We thought that maybe you guys…”
“...were making out behind a column?” Sakusa completed the sentence, and Atsumu never thought he’d hear Sakusa Kiyoomi say something like that, especially in relation to himself. And Atsumu wasn’t the least bit ready for what came next.
Sakusa downed his shot. “Too many people, uncomfortable. Just being here makes me feel the need to take at least three showers when I get home.”
“Omi, yer really drunk,” Atsumu stated at the same time Inunaki and Bokuto gasped.
“Omi Omi sure is the interesting drunk person,” Bokuto giggled.
“Does that mean you’d– make out with Atsumu?” Inunaki was still gaping.
“Did I say that?” Sakusa had confusion written all over his face.
“I need some air.” Atsumu made his way to the terrace of the bar and breathed in the chilly air of early spring.
This really was just an excuse to put some order in his thoughts and feelings.
Lately, he’d started hoping for something with Omi more than before, but despite Osamu’s arguments and the whole team teasing them always more for their dynamic, Atsumu was still convinced he didn’t stand a chance. He didn’t want to trust drunk Omi’s words a hundred percent, but maybe after all he did have a possibility. Otherwise why would Omi give him space in his life?
Atsumu had recently mused about that, about all the space he had in Sakusa’s existence and all the space Sakusa had in his.
He felt privileged, somewhat special, considering Omi was not a people person. Atsumu was one of the few teammates who’d been over at Sakusa’s apartment (more than once even), and one of the even fewer who Sakusa trusted with skinship (Atsumu had his tummy go all fluttery about this months ago, maybe he could have recognized the signs earlier).
Atsumu had seen Sakusa giggle spontaneously, and loved being the one to make him. Atsumu knew about Sakusa’s family, his childhood, and even why he preferred one detergent over another.
Sakusa trusted him. And Atsumu trusted Sakusa.
Maybe there was a chance.
5.
Omi's birthday approached.
Atsumu had been stressing over the present for a full week – receiving not little complaints from his brother, who was of course dragged into the existential crisis.
Sure, there was the team present, but Atsumu somehow felt the need to give him something personal.
In the end, he settled on a personalized t-shirt, with a print that read 'bad boy' in bold, wiggly, colourful letters. It was a reference to Red Velvet's song 'Bad Boy' – because among everything else, Atsumu also knew Sakusa loved kpop girl groups – and he knew he'd never wear it outside, but Atsumu was still extremely satisfied with it.
It was the perfect gift for Omi.
"Do you have any plans for Saturday?" Sakusa asked him on Monday.
"I mean, there's yer birthday party in the evening, no?" Atsumu was a bit confused. Since they'd be playing on Friday, they had Saturday – Omi's birthday – off, and the whole team would go out for dinner.
Sakusa scoffed. "I meant during the day."
"Oh. Well, I'm free," Atsumu smiled gingerly.
"Wanna come over?"
"Sure."
"I know it's a rest day, but I was thinking of going to the gym in the morning. I'll tell you when I get home."
Omi wanted to spend his whole birthday with him? Atsumu's knees were very close to failing him.
"I can come with ya if ya want. I was probably gonna workout a bit anyway."
He bit his tongue before he could say anything else. At least he wasn't completely lying, since he'd usually take a run on rest days too.
"Okay. Meet up at 8 then."
Atsumu dropped his jaw. "Yer kiddin'."
Sakusa snickered, Atsumu's stomach doing somersaults at that. "I was, idiot. No getting up before nine am."
Atsumu sighed in relief and gave Omi a quick glare, but the other just quietly kept snickering to himself. Atsumu shook his head, but he was powerless against the smile that appeared on his lips.
Thank goodness, on the day of his birthday, Kiyoomi decided that light training could do, and Atsumu couldn't be more grateful for it.
He'd slept enough, sure, but he liked to take it easy on rest days after games.
"Omi-kun, wait for me for lunch!" Atsumu told Kiyoomi as they exited the gym and were about to part ways to go home and take a shower.
Kiyoomi raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Sure."
Atsumu felt absolutely on a high today. Kiyoomi was willingly going to spend his whole day with him, he had asked Atsumu to spend the day together. And Atsumu wanted to make the best out of this chance, because he truly loved spending time with his spiker.
He tried not to rush while showering and getting ready, but still almost forgot to wear his shoes when leaving his apartment. He took his time to walk to Kiyoomi’s because he didn’t want to get there all sweaty all over again.
“I brought ya yer favourite onigiri, Omi Omi!” Atsumu cheerfully made his way into Kiyoomi’s home, and he handed the latter a bag of onigiri, freshly made by his brother.
Kiyoomi peeked into the bag and examined its content. “How did you know…”
“That ya changed taste?” Atsumu laughed at Omi’s raised eyebrow. Kiyoomi nodded.
“Ya literally ate half of mine last time, so ya know, I figured.”
“Oh. Well, thank you.” Kiyoomi turned around and hurried to the kitchen, but Atsumu could tell he was a bit embarrassed by the attention he’d received. If he could, Atsumu would shower him with all of his affection.
They had lunch while watching their series of the moment, getting absorbed into it and binging it for a while even after lunch.
Atsumu didn’t fail to notice how Kiyoomi sat an inch closer than usual, their shoulders almost brushing. His heart beat faster when he bumped their shoulders together a couple times, and even faster when Kiyoomi did it too, once.
After the fifth episode, the birthday boy decided he wanted to make the best out of the sunny day they’d been blessed with, so they decided to go out to the park nearby and brought a volleyball just in case.
They ended up playing, of course, and only belatedly realized how late it had gotten. It was kind of weird, playing volleyball together like this, not in a gym, not because it was their job, but for fun, just because they wanted to. It made Atsumu feel free, full of joy.
And what made it even better, was that Kiyoomi too was visibly having a lot of fun, all smiley and giggly as he tried to set the ball for Atsumu at impossible angles (and by the way, Atsumu of course managed to get them all, or at least most of them).
“I’mma need to go home and get another t-shirt, Omi. And maybe take another shower while I’m at it,” Atsumu commented as they were making their way back to Kiyoomi’s.
“I can lend you one,” Kiyoomi stated.
Atsumu grinned. “What, ya have portable showers Omi-kun? Didn’t know they existed.”
He laughed as he avoided a jab from Kiyoomi, who then settled on rolling his eyes at him. “A t-shirt, stupid.”
“Great! Can I borrow a shower too?”
Kiyoomi sighed. “Thought the answer was obvious. I don’t want you stinky at my birthday party.”
Atsumu did not fully register the fact that he was going to wear Kiyoomi’s clothes until, once back home, Kiyoomi said: “Well, you can go first if you want. I’ll lay out some shirt options for you in the meantime.”
"Aw, I thought we were gonna shower together, Omi-kun," Atsumu cooed, a smug grin at the corner of his lips, trying to redirect his embarrassment – this whole day was starting to feel like a date and Atsumu needed to get out of his daydreams, somehow.
Kiyoomi stiffened, and when he turned around he fixed Atsumu with a raised eyebrow.
Atsumu was expecting a prickly retort, but all he got instead was: "Maybe next time. Now get a move on or we'll be late, there are clean towels in the cabinet."
Atsumu couldn't tell whether it was the light or not, but he might have caught the shadow of a blush on Kiyoomi's cheeks, and that was enough to send his heart jumping around in his chest.
He was hoping the shower would bring him back to reality, but getting to use Kiyoomi’s products had the opposite effect.
Vanilla be damned.
As he exited the bathroom wrapped in a soft white towel, Atsumu felt such warmth and fuzziness he was extremely close to suggesting they stay home and cuddle on the sofa. He so wished he could.
When he entered Kiyoomi’s bedroom, the latter stared at him for a second, then disappeared into the bathroom to come back with a hairdryer in hand.
“You’ll catch a cold Miya, dry your hair. And you can pick whatever you want there.” He pointed to the shirts and t-shirts laid out on the bed before going to shower too.
Atsumu felt a bit childish, but for once he actually listened to what he was being told to do and merrily dried his hair; this happened because he felt like that was Kiyoomi’s way of showing affection and care.
You’re getting too sappy, he chided himself, but for once he wanted to revel in these feelings and in a situation that could possibly never happen again.
He spent some time trying to figure out what to wear with his brown pants.
He still hadn’t picked anything out when Kiyoomi came out of his shower, a soft sight for the eyes. Atsumu had to tear his gaze away forcefully.
“I think you’d look good in that white one,” Kiyoomi said out of the blue, as he grabbed the hairdryer and started drying his own hair.
“You think so?” Atsumu asked, having to clear his throat afterwards because shit his voice had come out a bit shaky.
Kiyoomi nodded and Atsumu just silently took the t-shirt his spiker had indicated, and put it on. His whole body felt on fire under Kiyoomi’s eyes giving him a once over and, once he received a thumbs up, Atsumu rushed to go get a glass of water because he couldn’t keep it cool anymore.
This whole moment was feeling so intimate, so tender, and somehow so normal Atsumu could slip up and forget they were not actually a couple any second.
He didn’t know what was in the air today, but there must have definitely been something, because as customary as this all was – the quiet and the teasing alike – today Atsumu couldn’t help but long for something more than just their friendship.
It was as he was looking for his phone around the living room that he noticed the lump in his tote bag and remembered about his present.
“Almost forgot to give ya this, Omi,” he said as he leaned on Kiyoomi’s bathroom door, where the other was finishing up with his hair. Kiyoomi washed his hands and eyed the package Atsumu was holding.
“For me?” he asked.
Atsumu bit his lip to hold back a laugh. “Nah, fer yer goldfish.”
“I don’t have any goldfish,” Kiyoomi replied in a neutral tone, but for once Atsumu managed to catch the hint of a smile. Kiyoomi took the present and ushered him to the living room.
Atsumu smiled complacently when Kiyoomi’s face turned red at the sight of the present. “Made sure to wash it beforehand too, Omi Omi.”
“You,” Kiyoomi muttered as he hid his face behind his hands – or better, behind the t-shirt he was still holding. “I can’t believe this.”
“Ya don’t have to wear it out, I’m just content with knowing ya have it.”
“I’m relieved, thought you’d pester me about wearing this immediately.”
Atsumu grinned smugly. “Is there any way I can convince you to?”
Kiyoomi looked at him, looked at the t-shirt, blinked a couple times.
“I’d lose all dignity.”
“Ya’d look stunning.”
Kiyoomi sniffed the t-shirt. “You washed it.”
“Sure did.”
The spiker sighed. “No pictures, Miya.”
Atsumu pursed his lips just to unsuccessfully hide his gleeful expression. “Got it.”
“Just for this once. Because I like it. Thanks, by the way.”
Atsumu just nodded, still smiling dumbly.
“I’m already starting to regret this,” Kiyoomi commented as they walked to the izakaya the spiker had picked to celebrate his birthday with the team.
“It’s okay, Omi. A cringey t-shirt is no rival to yer beauty.”
And it was the truth, because Kiyoomi looked as beautiful as ever even in a white t-shirt blasting a red and pink and purple ‘bad boy’ written print.
“That’s not what I was worried about.”
Atsumu laughed out loud, because he knew well what Kiyoomi was worried about. And indeed, the MSBY chat blew up with pictures that night.
+1
"...and then my hair was green for a month – a whole month, Omi!"
It was a Tuesday afternoon, the sun was high in the sky and the temperature was just warm enough not to sweat by just breathing.
Atsumu and Kiyoomi were taking a stroll through Atsumu's neighborhood, a stroll that was turning out pretty long considering they'd already crossed the whole park in the area.
It came about naturally, Atsumu mentioning some leftover onigiri, Kiyoomi showing interest, Atsumu inviting him over. They'd eaten too much so they went on a walk. They'd started talking about their high school times, Atsumu now going on a rant about how when he first dyed his hair, it was green for a month because he messed something up with the bleach.
Kiyoomi half snorted, half hummed, and when Atsumu turned around he was smiling so wide that Atsumu almost stopped in his tracks.
When he noticed he was being watched, Kiyoomi bit his lips, although it did little to hide his grin.
"I mean," he said while clearing his throat. "I'm glad you learned how to use conditioner."
"Honestly, me too," Atsumu sighed.
"Do you have a picture?"
Atsumu scrunched his nose. "Of my conditioner?"
Kiyoomi puffed a laugh. "Of your green hair, idiot."
"Oh, makes more sense. Wait."
They stopped in front of a small shop as Atsumu scrolled through his phone, handing it to Kiyoomi once he found a picture. They started walking again, and he only looked back at him when there was silence for a while.
"So charming I took yer breath away, Omi?" He joked at Kiyoomi's pursed lips.
"Were you really this… like this at the beginning of second year?"
"Whaddaya mean, Omi?" Atsumu teased, because if Omi was avoiding eye contact, he was most likely feeling embarrassed.
Kiyoomi indeed sighed, and gave in. "I mean, you changed a lot in just a few months. You weren't like this when we met."
"It's called puberty, Omi."
Kiyoomi jabbed at him with his own phone, then gave it back.
"So, would have I charmed ya even with green hair?"
"What do you mean?" Kiyoomi's eyes widened for a second, before narrowing in a suspicious glare.
"Haven't I charmed ya even a little bit when we met in second year?"
Kiyoomi's face went back to neutral and he rolled his eyes. "You were really all I could think about."
Atsumu grinned. "I knew it."
"Though I must say, your hair definitely looks better now. Both colour and hairstyle-wise."
"Have I charmed ya again, then?" Atsumu joked.
"Maybe."
The setter turned around with wide questioning eyes, and wasn't ready to be met with another sincere and wide smile.
Kiyoomi was looking straight ahead, but he was smiling. Atsumu suddenly felt too hot.
"Omi," he blurted out, a strangled noise that sounded more like a whine than anything else.
"What?"
And then the spiker turned around, still smiling, cheeks tinted with a rosey blush, the sun sparkling in his eyes.
When Atsumu just stared at him, with what was probably a desperate look on his face, Kiyoomi nudged him with an elbow.
"I really wanna kiss ya right now," Atsumu whispered, immediately hiding his face in his hands and turning around to start walking again. He hadn't even registered the moment when they'd stopped.
And then there was a hand on his hands, gently peeling them off of his face.
When Atsumu finally looked back at Kiyoomi, the latter had a soft look in his eyes.
"Atsumu," he said, tone so gentle that Atsumu's knees almost failed him. He gripped tighter on the hand still holding one of his.
"Let's go home."
