Chapter Text
Atsumu quietly hummed as he dried glass after glass with an old white and blue checked tea towel, his gaze focused on the task at hand. There was something oddly calming about the repetitive motion and how it allowed his brain to be switched off for just a little while.
Some slanderous people -he could name a few, but Samu and Suna would definitely be at the top of the list- would say it was always switched off, but he begged to differ. He had thoughts. Lots of them. Most being volleyball-oriented, but it still counted.
He wasn’t a Nobel Prize or something, but he knew people a lot dumber than him. Take Kageyama Tobio for instance. That guy was just hopeless, but a nice proof that the human body was capable of surviving with very few brain cells. Some would say Atsumu was too, but it was just unjustified bad-mouthing. He might not have gone to college but he definitely could have if he wanted to. He was just more interested in pursuing an athletic career. And he knew he had made the right decision.
The soothing movement of the cloth to wipe the droplets of hot water still clinging to the rounded surface was comforting in some strange sort of way, letting his mind quiet down after the crazy last weeks he had had.
Ever since he had known he had been selected to participate in the Olympics, he had been stuck into a spiral of games, training and interviews, a dizzying succession of events he had no control over but loved with every fiber of his being. And it was as amazing as he expected. He was like a child in front of a Christmas tree, really, watching the game of his opponents with attentive eyes opened wide in wonder, with an euphoric feeling bubbling in his chest and leaving a wide smile on his face.
He observed, learned, copied, with the hunger of a starved man, an avidity to make these techniques his, a fascination of what all those foreign athletes who had been deemed the best of their countries could teach him against their will. He showed his own skills off, his sets that he knew could make spikers feel like they were on top of the world, forgetting he was actually the one behind the placement of the ball they were hitting. He adored the way he could feel the public’s eyes glued to him before he served, the way he heard their breath hitch when he did those risky sets that required him to squat lower than thought possible, while making it seem like it was the simplest thing he had done in his entire life, as easy as breathing the air of the Olympic arena.
On top of the people surrounding him, he was aware that the cameras pointed at him were broadcasting him all over the world, and when it crossed his mind, the feeling he got out of it was exhilarating. Atsumu basked in praise and attention, in the idea that TVs all around the world had been switched on to see him play.
But the thought of the one in his brother’s restaurant specifically, right above the corner of the bar, lit up with the images on his games, Samu trying to keep an eye on it from the kitchen while he cooked, made his heart swell and something in his stomach churn, a funny warm feeling, the one of being important to someone who mattered.
He turned around to glance at said TV, which was now behind his back. He could see the very tiny reflection of the empty kitchen in the distance on the black screen, in the background of his own image. He gazed at himself, eyeing his muscular shoulders and the strands of his bleached blond hair. He met his warm brown eyes and flashed himself a charming smile. Samu would have for sure called him vain if he had caught him doing that, but Samu wasn’t here, so he could do whatever he wanted. Also, Suna, a few meters away, was too engrossed in his scrolling to really pay attention to him, so he wouldn’t say anything. The floor was his to bask in his own glory and admire himself without consequences.
He had planned on helping for a little while at Onigiri Miya once the Olympics would be over, like he often did during off season, a nice way for him to get back to a more normal everyday life and slowly come down from the high of competitions.
He had been put to work only a few hours after his arrival back in Japan, hence why he was already behind this counter, extremely jetlagged and exhausted. If this wasn't proof of Samu’s relentless and merciless nature, he didn’t know what was. How cruel of him to exploit his beloved twin like that! Talk about taking advantage of the weak and weary!
Just a few days ago, he was running around the court, the number one place on earth where he felt alive, under the hot and artificial rays of the spotlights of the arena, and now there he was, cleaning the quiet and dimly lit restaurant. Quite the contrast but he rather enjoyed it.
He was happy to be at his brother’s. His brain kind of hurt from the constant state of focus he had needed to stay in during the last few months, so it was nice to allow his mind to go quiet for a little bit. He stifled a yawn.
He had desperately tried getting some rest during his 12 hours flight, he really had. However, it had felt more like a life sentence than an opportunity to sleep, stuck between a whiny kid and a snoring business man, who, judging by the noises that came out of him, must have been some sort of lawn mower in a past life.
He couldn’t even try to drown the noises in the headphones that had been given to him, since the small TV in front of him seemed to have been broken, so now he either had to understand English, or be able to read the subtitles in French, neither of which he felt fit to do. His English level had drastically improved these past few years, but it still required him to use every single one of his brain cells, a complicated exercise he would rather avoid.
Honestly? He felt like he was down to just one after all this, and it wasn’t even remotely capable to single handedly help him handle an English movie. But that was just because of the exhaustion of the game. In normal conditions, he would have nailed it. Coz he had loads of brain cells. Why did he need to justify himself that much again?
He had ended up switching on a romance, assuming the plot wouldn’t be hard to follow, but turns out he was wrong, and romances aren’t actually that easy to understand without the dialogue to back the story up. He wasn’t even sure the main love interest was a good guy. Had he cheated on the main character? Probably not, but it sure looked like he had.
He had browsed through the music option too, discovering entire albums of gregorian monks in a cathedral and nature sounds, either of which sounded like pure torture to Atsumu’s ears. Surely it was someone’s cup of tea otherwise they wouldn’t be there, but definitely not his. In fact, he was pretty sure he was the exact opposite of a gregorian monk, cramped into his small seat, minutes away from throwing his cup of water on his neighbor to wake him up and then look away to pretend like he had no clue where all that water came from, like it wasn’t obvious he was the only culprit possible.
That guy seemed to have made an agreement with the kid by the way, and the two of them were taking turns to keep Atsumu awake. He had to admit, they were doing an impressive job. That guy’s snoring only stopped to let the kid whine for a bit. He definitely could have gone without it, but he did notice the effort. Not quite as harmonious as the monks, but it was tough competition.
He finished drying the last glass and went for the cutleries next, still humming. He couldn’t remember when he had last heard the song for it to get stuck in his head, if it was from the small radio Samu kept on while he cooked, or simply an overheard tune from Suna’s incessant scrolling. He swung from one foot to another, matching the rhythm of the song he hummed with the way his shoes hit the wooden floor of the bar he was standing behind. He couldn’t exactly remember the lyrics, and that alone could have been a little irritating had he had the faintest shadow of a thought in his brain other than the soothing motion of the cloth on the shiny metal of the cutleries. What was it?
Just… just… call my name? I’ll be there in a hurry, tadadadada…. you… ain’t no...mountain…
Suna sat further, at one of the restaurant’s tables, in near darkness, the only light on the warm one behind the bar, above Atsumu. His face was lit up by the streetlamp that shone into the restaurant from the big glass windows all around the room, by the neon of the bar and the blue screen of his phone, the colors changing occasionally. All of it combined created quite an interesting atmosphere that Atsumu found comforting in some ways.
“Ya know, sometimes ya could at least pretend to help…” he called Suna out, more out of desire to spark a conversation than out of genuine will to create a change of heart in his friend, which he knew to be a highly unlikely possibility.
Honestly Suna agreeing with him would scare the hell out of him more than any other scenario. He would have to immediately get up and check him for a fever. Definitely the only possible explanation. Normal Suna would hate it, but maybe this new version of Suna wouldn’t even mind. That thought sent a chill down Atsumu’s spine. A compliant Suna? Terrifying. He probably would just be playing with him in that case though, and it would be hella efficient. Atsumu was surprised he had never tried it yet. Though it would with no doubt require much more effort that he was actually willing to put in bothering him.
As if to prove that point, Suna didn’t even look up from his phone.
“And act like I give a fuck? You know me better than that.” he responded, deadpan.
Atsumu laughed and that reaction got a small proud smile out of Suna that he immediately hid. He would never admit that Atsumu finding him funny was something that he felt satisfaction from. That would be too humiliating, and would definitely break that image he was trying to give himself.
“You give a fuck when Samu asks ya.” Atsumu smirked, grabbing more cutlery to dry them.
He had decided that small jabs like these were perfectly acceptable. He had tried testing the waters, assessing how far these two were in the “figuring out I’m desperately in love with my best friend” part, and honestly, he wasn’t even sure they had realized it yet. A cause of much desolation to Atsumu. Samu avoided the topic each time he tried to talk to him about it, and Suna wasn’t any better.
He didn’t want to force them to face feelings they were not ready to see- he wasn’t that much of an asshole- but sometimes it felt like he was this close to just snapping. Afterall he was the one who had had to suffer through years of third wheeling and witnessing those two morons be so dense it made him want to slap some sense into them. Or slam his head into the wooden walls of the restaurant, which was sure to hurt a little, but would at last prevent him from having to bear the sight of these two idiots being hopelessly oblivious. How could they be acting on a daily basis like a married couple, and yet not even acknowledge the feelings they had for each other?
In any case, he figured small remarks like this one were well deserved, totally harmless, and a rather healthy way to cope with the frustration. Besides, it was a hundred percent true. If Osamu had been the one behind that bar asking for Suna’s cooperation, Atsumu could predict step by step the reaction his best friend would have had. He had seen it way too many times.
First, he’d look up from his phone and roll his eyes. That step could quite easily be interchangeable with a deep sigh or a snarky remark, each of them aiming at expressing a reluctance that was key to the act of disinterest he was playing. The crucial next step would fill in a similar role: waiting a little while, to give the impression that he wasn’t going to do anything. This could, for instance, be achieved by pretending to do something on his phone, perfectly plausible for someone like Suna. Only then would it finally be acceptable to get up- slowly, of course- and give Samu a hand, keeping his eyes on him to catch the small smile this action would inevitably get out of him.
Astmu knew them and their dynamics by heart. Suna and Osamu were so obviously into each other and had been for such a long time that it was borderline painful. That’s why he had immediately noticed something was off between them when he had seen them interact this afternoon. An awkward tension was there, which Atsumu had instantly felt. He was still weighing the pros and the cons of bringing it up in the conversation.
“Yeah he gets special treatment coz he’s not as insufferable as you.” Suna responded, his tone as bored as ever.
Before Atsumu could react, Suna spoke again, slightly looking up from the screen of his phone, his piercing eyes roaming absentmindedly the room.
“Also he cooks for me, so I s’ppose I can lend him a hand.”
Atsumu’s grin widened at the sentence, all thoughts of protest at the “insufferable” accusation vanishing from his mind, replaced by the sweet satisfaction of teasing Suna. Oh, this was too easy. He was so determined in finding excuses to hide his feelings that it made them all the more visible.
“Oh, come on, I could cook for ya too, Sunarin, if that’s what it takes to win you over.” he said with a mocking sweetness, the words rolling off his tongue.
Suna frowned.
“Like I’d eat anything you would've cooked.” he scoffed
“So mean” Atsumu playfully gasped as he faked being hurt.
That was a blatant lie and a false accusation. Atsumu was quite a good cook, and this slander was absolutely not grounded. He wasn’t as good as his brother, obviously, but fairly decent. He was also convinced he was actually better than his brother at baking, but he hadn’t found anyone to agree with him on that yet despite all the very clear evidence, which, he was sure, was just because their friends and relatives did not want to hurt Osamu’s ego. Why else wouldn’t they praise his wonderful cinnamon rolls? His fabulous cheesecake? His magnificent red bean rice cakes?
Comfortable silence settled again, Suna going back to his scrolling, and Atsumu to his drying. He wondered wherever he should bring the tension up now. He figured it might be a good opportunity.
“Did something happen between you two?” he said, breaking the silence.
Suna looked up, his eyebrows twitching slightly, the closest he could physically become to a deer caught in the headlights.
“Why do you ask?” he said slowly.
Atsumu laughed at the question.
“Come on, I know you guys! Ya don’t think I couldn’t feel the weird tension? ‘t’s not the good kind this time, if ya know what I mean.”
“Didn’t think you were perceptive enough, no.” Suna sneered, hiding behind his mockery the fact that he genuinely had no clue they were being that obvious. Or maybe that Atsumu was capable of actually paying attention to those around him. Which in some way, could have seemed a bit hurtful, but Suna had been proven wrong, so it was rather a motive of pride than an insult in Atsumu’s eyes.
“‘M just full of surprises.” he bragged with a large smile.
Suna looked at him for a while, no emotions showing on his unbothered face, before deeply sighing.
“We argued.” he admitted quietly.
That was not what Atsumu was expecting. Actually, if someone had asked him to guess the reason their interactions had been so weird, he would have probably said that they had had a moment, and that it had scared them so much it made them uncomfortable around each other for a little while. That seemed like the most probable situation. An argument was not a possibility that had even crossed his mind.
“About what?”
“Samu’s been kind of overworked recently.” Suna said, setting his phone face down on the wood of the table he was sitting behind.
Oh, setting the phone down? Things were getting serious.
“Yeah I got the feeling he was working his ass off before I left for the Olympics.” Atsumu said, hoping his participation would encourage Suna to keep going in his storytelling.
“It’s a bit more than that… he’s been hanging by a thread.”
Suna said it as if he was stating facts, his expression unbothered, but Atsumu knew better. The fact he had gotten rid of his phone or that he had looked troubled at the mention of their argument, were proof enough that things were getting to him a bit more than he would admit. Look at him, all worried for Samu. How adorable.
“Whatcha mean?” Atsumu asked, looking around for something else to dry after he was done with the cutleries.
“He’s just… less focused. He’s exhausted. Have you not noticed his eyebags?”
“Nah figured he was always just that ugly.”
Suna ignored his comment and continued.
“This is the third time this week that he’s catering for an evening event. It’s getting ridiculous.”
“Third time?” Atsumu asked, his eyebrow shooting up. He had not realized it was that much. “That’s a hella lot of catering. You sure that’s what he’s doing? Maybe he's just building an underground business.”
Suna gave him a flat look, not particularly surprised by Atsumu’s ridiculous allegations.
“What’s he doin’ tonight? A wedding, no?” Atsumu said, trying to seem like he was supportive and not considering what kind of underground business his brother could run. Drugs would be the easy answer, and Samu wasn’t really the creative one, but he was sure there were other options.
“When he told me he was catering again…” Suna continued, unaware of Atsumu’s speculations “ I told him he shouldn’t. And he didn’t like that.”
That snapped Atsumu out of his thoughts and brought him back to the matter at hand: the reason for that weird tension he had perceived.
“What did he do?” he asked.
“He snapped. Kinda. Told me it was none of my business, and he could handle himself perfectly well.”
“Very clearly not, otherwise he’d look a lot more like me, the better twin, and a lot less like a zombie” Atsumu responded, absentmindedly, wondering what could have gone through Samu’s head for him to react that way. It was so unlike him… him lashing out at Atsumu was a common occurrence, but at Suna?
Apparently Suna didn’t agree on the better twin part, but he didn’t say anything, used to Atsumu’s tendency to constantly claim he was above everyone else.
“Why’s he doing this?” Atsumu asked. “Taking all these events.”
Suna sighed.
“I don’t know. He won’t tell me.”
Atsumu started wiping the counter, feeling concern creeping down on him, unable to brush it away like he had done in the conversation so far. He glanced up at Suna, noticing the genuine worry he seemed to feel.
Now that he thought about it, his brother’s calls had been few and far between but he assumed it was just because of the time difference and the whirlwind of the Olympics. He hadn’t considered it could come from a problem on Samu’s side too.
“How long has this been going on for? Maybe that could help us understand?” he asked.
Hesitation slightly flashed through Suna’s eyes, before he replied, his tone uncertain.
“I can’t really tell… I noticed it two weeks ago, when I realized… I mean he’s barely been around except for restaurant opening hours. It’s hard to find time to hang out.”
Samu not making time for Suna? Yeah that was concerning. He made a mental note that he needed to talk about it to him. When he comes back, he’ll try having a chat with his twin. He probably will get angry and defensive but that’s not something that would scare Atsumu off. He cared about his brother’s well being enough to be willing to deal with his moody ass.
“I’ll try talking to him,” he said.
That sentence seemed to ease Suna’s concern a tiny bit. He knew that if he hadn’t managed to get to Samu, and be heard by him, maybe Atsumu could. The latter wasn’t sure he would have more luck, but he was willing to try.
Besides, someone had to step in. How were Suna and Samu supposed to realize their feelings for each other if they didn’t even spend time together? Or… maybe that was exactly what was needed?
That realization hit Atsumu like an epiphany. He stopped wiping, letting his thoughts unravel. Maybe that was actually a chance? Perhaps that situation had even already worked wonders and now Suna was finally aware that him missing Samu, or being worried sick for him, was actually not just being a good friend!
He felt a grin slowly appear on his face. Suna noticed it immediately and frowned.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you smiling?”
Putting the cloth to the side, Atsumu leaned onto the dry part of the counter, unable to contain his amusement.
“Are ya sad ya don’t get to see my brother?” he smirked.
Suna rolled his eyes, instantly understanding the reason behind the shift in Atsumu’s demeanor. He huffed at his comment like it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.
“No…” he protested, his tone probably not even managing to convince himself.
Atsumu could hardly believe his luck. This was such a perfect opportunity to tease Suna and make him realize his feelings, if it wasn’t already done. Besides, those playful jabs were so fun to make and he deserved this satisfaction, really.
“Could it be then… that yer worried, Sunarin?” he asked, absolutely thrilled, leaning even more, resting his chin in his hand.
Still hidden behind his mask of indifference, Suna very clearly reacted to Atsumu’s accusations, a simple twitch of the eye that would've gone unnoticed if only Atsumu hadn’t become a pro in reading Suna’s micro-expression. Spending that much time with him had its perks, and now he knew exactly what was going on under his apparent unbothered nature.
“Well, yeah of course… I mean he’s my best friend so…”
Atsumu burst out laughing, not even trying to be considerate or whatever.
“Right…yer best friend….” he grinned widely.
Suna rolled his eyes before he got up from his seat - he could do that? Sometimes Atsumu wondered if somehow he hadn’t gotten himself glued to the chair- grabbing his phone on the table and pocketing it.
“Alright, I’m gonna piss.”
Ah the obvious attempt at escaping the conversation. Suna was kind of running out of excuses though, if he resorted to needing the bathroom. Atsumu was tempted to laugh again at the absurdity.
“Sure you go do that.”
Suna stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder, eyes narrowing slightly.
“You’re insufferable, you know that?”
Atsumu leaned back, unable to resist:
“And yer fleeing the conversation! Dunno what’s best!” he sing-songed with a shit-eating grin as Suna turned around to start heading to the bathroom again.
He noticed a slight flush creeping up his neck, and if he didn’t see his expression, he knew he was repressing whatever reaction he was having. That thought almost made Atsumu chuckle. He decided to continue to push Suna’s buttons.
“Ya know, ya don’t have to pretend with me, Sunarin!” he called him out as he was walking away. Suna did not take the bait this time, and simply disappeared into the darkness of the corridor.
Atsumu still had a small smile tugging at his lips as he continued wiping the counter, delighted by the banter he had with Suna. More like a one sided battle against his friend, but close enough. This could honestly keep him amused for a while, he was just that easily entertained.
He was trying to ascertain if Suna was actually aware of his own feelings. It seemed like it, didn’t it? But he had had enough false hopes to be extremely wary of what things looked like.
He was about to start humming again when the bell above the front door rang. He looked up and was met with the sight of the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes on. And that was coming from him, self-proclaimed hottest volleyball player of the century. He had seen the edits. He knew.
The first thing he noticed were the long black eyelashes over deep dark eyes. Was the man wearing mascara? Probably not, but his eyelashes looked so good he would be perfect for an ad for one of these brands. How could they be that long naturally?
He had two moles above his eyebrows, two small dots on milky skin. His raven black curly hair looked so shiny and soft Atsumu immediately got the urge to slide his fingers in the strands. He looked absolutely ethereal. Unreal. Straight out of a painting. It was love at first sight.
Half of his face was hidden under a black mask, so maybe that helped, Atsumu tried to rationalize. People are said to be prettier with masks on. Maybe he had crooked yellow teeths, or a really dissymmetric face. Still though, the man was gorgeous.
He was wearing a long black coat that he took off the moment he walked into the room, revealing a white button up with rolled up sleeves showing tattoos covered arms. Atsumu’s breath stilled. The charisma. The confidence. The tattoos. He looked even more attractive. If that was even possible.
He gave his coat to one of the three guys accompanying him. Wow, Atsumu hadn’t even noticed them before, too focused on staring at the new found love of his life. Was that concerning? Probably. Did he care? Absolutely not.
He glanced at the others, now a little intrigued. The one who had taken the coat had the biggest eyebrows Atsumu had ever seen, and once again, he thought he was pretty qualified to judge.
“Thank you, Motoya.” the love of Atsumu’s life said to the guy taking his coat.
He leaned onto the bar with a cocky smirk, deciding to make do with the charms Mother nature had oh so kindly given him. He was incredibly good at flirting with people - a talent of his, really- and had been for a while. Surely he could do something. Usually it worked.
“Sorry love, we’re closed fer the day.” he grinned, the accent slipping easily off his tongue.
Unfortunately those charms did not seem to work on the guy at all, who stared at Atsumu like he was dirt under his shoe. Somehow that turned him on even more. Wow that was widely concerning. Maybe that was something he would need to question at some point. He was discovering some things about himself he wouldn’t have guessed.
Big-eyebrows giggled at the sentence. Atsumu ignored him. Who was he to judge his attempts? Would he have done better in his place, huh? Surely not.
“I’ve made a reservation.” the object of Atsumu’s interest said, his tone serious.
Atsumu laughed immediately, surprised by the sentence, wondering if the guy was joking. He didn’t seem like he was the type to though, so he responded with a bright smile, his tone overly sweet: “Not at that time, I highly doubt it. Did you get your reservation mixed up? Do you want me to check?”
He walked to the computer, ready to open the book in which Samu wrote the reservations. “What's your name sweetheart?”
“Sakusa-san!!” a voice boomed behind Atsumu. He turned around to see Suna walk into the room, a polite smile plastered on his face: “Such a pleasure to see you here!”
To say Atsumu was surprised was an understatement. Never in his entire life has he heard Suna talk like that. He didn’t know he was capable of sounding anything other than rude or indifferent. Sure, there was also that tone he used specifically with Osamu, but never in his entire existence had he heard him sound polite.
Even during their blessed high school days, he always got in trouble with teachers because he did not know how to talk respectfully to any of them without sounding bored out of his mind. Was Suna capable of customer service? He never would have guessed.
“Suna-San” Sakusa said, slightly bowing his head, very visibly relieved to be able to talk to someone other than Atsumu “I have made a reservation tonight for me and my...colleagues.”
“Of course Sakusa-san. Right this way”
Once again, Atsumu could barely hide his astonishment. What was happening? There was no reservation! He had just now checked the book and Samu hadn’t written anything down. Why couldn’t he just tell the guy he had made a mistake? Although it would be a shame to see the love of his life disappear so fast, so he wasn’t exactly complaining. Just surprised.
Suna led them into the restaurant and made them sit down at a table, separated by a screen from the rest of the empty restaurant. Atsumu followed them like a lost puppy, not contributing to anything but really curious as to what was happening, still dumbfounded by Suna’s sudden discovery of manners.
Once they were out of earshot, he pulled his friend to the side, a mocking smirk on his lips.
“What was that? Should’ve recorded you, didn’t think you had it in you to be that nice”
His friend sent a death glare in his direction, not an ounce of amusement on his face. Which was usual but this time, Atsumu felt a small pang of concern he couldn’t really explain.
“Your loss.” Suna replied dryly, before something in his eyes morphed slowly into what could resemble worry.
“This is bad, Tsumu. Real bad.” he said slowly.
There was something in his expression, a glint of real panic that made Atsumu’s stomach drop. All the alarms turned red in his brain, blaring at full blast, entering a state of emergency he had not been in since he locked himself out of his apartment three months ago and realised he was gonna have to find a solution or spend the night outside.
“What? Why?” he asked, surprised at how unsure he sounded. Suna was starting to freak him out. Was that a joke? If so, it wasn’t funny at all.
“We gotta call Samu… What a fucking mess….” Suna responded with a deep sigh. “I think he made a really big mistake. And we have to prevent Sakusa-san from realizing it.”