Archive of Our Own ^beta

It's seven in the morning when Atsumu is rudely awakened by his phone ringing insistently.

It's his damn day off from practice too, but it seems like whoever is calling him wants him dead. He snatches his phone and glares at the caller ID, and the moment he sees it's Osamu, he denies the call and throws his phone aside.

A few seconds later, his phone rings. Fucking again.

Groaning, Atsumu makes a blind grab for his phone and puts it to his ear, making sure to be as disgruntled and irritable as possible when he asks, "What the hell d'ya want?"

"Good mornin', ya lazy bum," comes Osamu's voice. He sounds like he's in his restaurant, probably doing prep work. "Didja know that ya went viral last night?"

Huh? "I was schedulin' my next interview with the JVA last night, the fuck are ya talkin' about?"

"Open yer Twitter, bruh. I'm surprised yer roommate hasn't told ya yet."

Atsumu scowls. Why must Osamu always beat around the bush? "Kenma's asleep. I should be too, if it wasn't for yer stinky butt disturbin' me."

Like the bitchy little brother he is, Osamu simply ends the call. He acts like Atsumu's not worth his time speaking to when he's the one who called. Seriously, one day Atsumu is going to go over to his restaurant and eat all his ingredients in the fridge. Or something.

Still, he opens his Twitter, just to see what Osamu is talking about. It doesn't take much—his feed is filled with chatter about Kenma's stream last night, specifically a moment where—

Aw, shit.

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Atsumu doesn't wake Kenma just yet, because Kenma gets grumpy when he has to be up before ten. Instead, he pushes himself out of bed and heads to wash up, the gears turning in his head.

He and Kenma have been living together for a few years now. They met in university as roommates—Atsumu hadn't recognised Kenma back then, but Kenma knew who he was via volleyball. At first, Atsumu had assumed they wouldn't get along. Kenma is quiet and hard to get to know, and he has zero filter when he does speak, and he's also so fucking messy. Atsumu's used to sharing a room, but Kenma gave Osamu a run for his money with how often he'd leave his shit on the floor.

But past that, Kenma's sarcastic wit and Atsumu's snark fell together easily. He's extremely knowledgeable about volleyball, and past his aloof exterior, Atsumu found an extreme passion for gaming. It may not be about volleyball, but it's passion nonetheless, and Atsumu can always respect that kind of hunger in Kenma's eyes—for success.

So anyway, they became good friends after that. Once they graduated university, for convenience's sake as well as force of habit, they moved in together, with Kenma's channel already well underway and Atsumu's place in MSBY secured. They don't even see each other that often, having practically opposite schedules. Atsumu leaves the house for practice before Kenma even wakes up, and Kenma streams long into the night when Atsumu is already in bed.

Because of this, no one really knows that they're living together except for their close friends. Not that it even matters. Kenma's fans don't even know that he has a roommate, but unfortunately, it seems like that 'secret' is going down the drain now.

Atsumu hadn't meant to appear in Kenma's stream. He entered the room knowing that Kenma was streaming, yes, but he had needed his laptop that he left in Kenma's room, and he had been so careful not to appear in the video frame. Maybe he knocked something? How the hell did fans even realise—

Atsumu's thumb pauses from where he's scrolling through twitter. Someone posted a screenshot of Kenma's stream, zoomed in to the window at the side with— is that Atsumu's fucking reflection—

Wow. Kenma's fans are terrifying. How did they make his presence out from just the reflection? Atsumu can barely see it, and he's, like, squinting really hard.

To his surprise, Kenma's bedroom door opens just then, and out stumbles his roommate. His hair is an absolute mess and his eyes are barely open. It’s a familiar sight, but it never fails to make Atsumu smile. So despite the current crisis, Atsumu puts his phone down and greets, "G'morning."

"I need coffee," Kenma mutters in lieu of acknowledging his greeting. Rude.

He trudges into the kitchen, snagging a peek at Atsumu’s phone, left upright on the counter. "What is that?"

Atsumu barely misses a beat. "Yer fans are all stalkers and weirdos and need to be put down."

"You're my fan too," Kenma replies smoothly. He pulls Atsumu's phone over to read what's on the screen. Atsumu watches as Kenma's expression contorts into ways he never thought were possible, going through seven emotions at once, before he finally settles on acceptance. "Okay then. There's that."

"That's all ya have to say?" he asks.

"Well, I can't delete the stream now. Besides, you're barely in the frame. The hype will die down in a week."

"I thought ya'd scold me for not being careful enough," Atsumu admits.

Kenma heads to the coffee machine with a short hum. "It's not like it really matters that my fans know I have a roommate. I doubt they've figured out who you are yet from just that screenshot, anyway." He glances over his shoulder. "Unless you mind?"

Atsumu shakes his head. "It's fine. But the speculations are pretty…" He gestures vaguely. "Wild."

At that, Kenma chuckles. "Like what? At most, they think you're my secret girlfriend. That's pretty tame compared to the other things I've had said about me."

"What does that even mean?" Atsumu groans, but he decides to drop it too. Kenma isn't bothered, so he shouldn't be either. Like he said, the hype will die down in a week.

They run through their morning routine together, with Kenma downing his coffee way too fast and Atsumu laughing at him until he chokes on his own drink. And then Kenma is leaving to hang out with his old high school friends and Atsumu bids him goodbye. By the time the sun reaches its peak, Atsumu has forgotten all about the ordeal.

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“This is getting insane,” Atsumu mutters, showing his phone screen to Shouyou. They’re taking a water break right now, and he had opened Twitter on instinct, forgetting all the recent fuss about Kenma’s ‘alleged partner’.

He follows a few fan pages for Kenma on his private account because he is a good, supportive friend. And sometimes they post pretty funny memes, which he always makes sure to save and send over to Kenma. But because of this, his feed has been bombarded with this recent drama, and it’s starting to feel cluttered.

“There’s so many random ass guesses,” Atsumu huffs as he scrolls. People are bringing up Kenma’s high school team. Someone mentioned another streamer he’s collabed with. Someone even guessed Tsukishima?

“This one is such a reach!” he complains, pointing at the tweet.

Shouyou snickers. “Send me a screenshot, I’ll send it to Tsukishima.”

"You're laughing, but there's so many people guessin' that it's you." Atsumu rolls his eyes, resting his head on the wall. "Probably because Kenma sponsored ya. You're not safe either."

Shouyou just laughs again, delighted. "Let me see!"

He takes Atsumu's phone, scrolling through his feed with the excitement of a child on Christmas day. Atsumu isn't sure why Shouyou finds it so funny to be part of the speculations—why he finds anyone being part of the speculations to be funny, for that matter. It's really not that entertaining.

"Oh, this one theorises that it's Sakusa-san," Shouyou gasps, clicking onto the tweet. "They think that he'd be a really good fit with Kenma. I can kind of see it."

Atsumu's head shoots up. He pictures Kenma and Kiyoomi together, side-by-side, doing cutesy couple stuff and whatever, and immediately feels sick. "Ew. Don't put that image in my head. Imagine if I had to see Omi-kun all the time at my place because he's datin' Kenma. Yuck."

Shouyou's thumb slows. "...I mean, they're both quiet, sarcastic, really clever—"

"Shush." Atsumu takes his phone back, ignoring the tweet talking about Sakusa. He scrolls and is hit with someone talking about Bokuto instead— Bokuto? Really? "Someone else thinks it's Bokkun!"

"They have known each other for really long…"

Atsumu wrinkles his nose. With every guess a fan of Kenma's makes, he begins to think that Kenma's fans don't really know him at all. Kenma obviously wouldn't date any of their guesses, not that Atsumu even knows what Kenma's type is. Call it a roommate's instinct, though. He knows Kenma way better than any of them.

"You know," Shouyou pipes up, "I haven't seen anyone guess you yet, Atsumu-san!"

He freezes.

"What?" he scoffs. "Yes they have. I'm Kenma's best friend."

"I'd say that's more of Kuroo-san's title."

"Okay, is Kuroo-san livin' with Kenma?" Atsumu huffs. "Didn't think so. Why wouldn't anyone guess me?"

As he rambles, he scrolls back up, trying to find any of the tweets he saw earlier. His eyes scan the screen for his own name, but as the seconds tick by, he begins to feel a little more frantic.

No way. Shouyou might be right—none of Kenma's fans have guessed Atsumu's name yet.

"Okay, well." His lips curl, a little disgruntled. "It doesn't matter. Even though I am the actual roommate that showed up. That just means that Kenma and I are really good at keeping our friendship private."

Shouyou smiles, not unkindly, but it still makes Atsumu feel a little salty. How come no one has guessed him yet? He's hot, fantastic at volleyball, and also part of MSBY, which Kenma's company has collabed with before. Surely, Atsumu being Kenma's secret partner isn't that big of a reach, is it?

"In any case!" Shouyou says, standing up and stretching. "At least you're not caught up in all the speculations. That's nice."

"Yeah, of course," Atsumu agrees faintly. It's a good thing that nobody thinks it's Atsumu. He won't have to handle Kenma's fans stalking his account or spamming his notifications, like what Kiyoomi has been dealing with earlier, as he complained about in the locker rooms. It's all chill.

Shouyou gives him a knowing look. "Are you offended?"

"No way!" he barks out, standing up as well. "I don't care at all! It's just that— as the literal correct answer, I'm surprised no one has deduced that I'm Kenma's roommate."

"If you say so," Shouyou replies placatingly, and Atsumu loves Shouyou, but he thinks about tossing a volleyball into his face just for his tone. "Let's get back to practice!"

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"Ya look tired," Atsumu notes when Kenma appears in the living room, flopping onto the couch without so much of a good morning. "Why're ya up so early?"

Kenma groans. "I have a meeting with my PR manager in a bit."

"Oh… About the whole roommate thing?"

"Yeah. I didn't expect everyone to still be talking about it. It's all my watchers will chat about when I'm streaming. They keep asking even though I shut down the questions." Kenma sighs, sitting up. Atsumu thinks about smoothing his hair down for him, but he refrains because Kenma looks so annoyed right now. "Sorry you're dragged into it."

"Oh, I—" Atsumu frowns.

"Hm?"

"I'm not really. Involved," he mutters. Kenma arches an eyebrow at him and his cheeks colour. "Stop lookin' at me like that!"

"I'm not looking at you like anything. Why do you sound so petulant? Did you fight with Osamu again?"

"Hey," Atsumu huffs, but he shakes his head. "No. It's just that I, uh, have been stalking some of your fan accounts."

"Wow."

"And I've been keepin' up with who they're guessin', and they just haven't…" He waves his hand around. "Guessed me yet?"

There's silence for a long while. And then Kenma snickers, burying his face into a throw pillow, and Atsumu squawks in offence, "Stop laughin'! What's so funny?!"

"So that's what you're pouting about?" Kenma asks between his giggles. Atsumu's cheeks flush red. "Meanwhile, Sakusa was telling me that he's going to delete his whole account if my fans don't stop tagging him in their posts. I can't believe you're jealous."

"Jealous?!" Atsumu's jaw drops. "I'm not— he— what?"

"No? Kenma peers at him, and the sharpness of his eyes pierce through Atsumu's chest. He feels like he's being stripped down of his walls, baring the truth and only the truth to Kenma's prying gaze. "You're jealous because Sakusa, Shouyou, and all my other friends are being guessed, but not you. Isn't it?"

Atsumu stares, cheeks hot and not a word leaving his throat.

Kenma shrugs. "I saw a tweet today that thought it might've been Suna, even."

Atsumu blanches. "Sunarin? People are guessin' Sunarin over me?"

"Well, he's pretty active online, and he comments on a lot of my stuff." The edges of Kenma's lips tilt up. "I thought you weren't jealous, though?"

Damn it. Atsumu snatches an empty cup and fills it up with water, just to have something to do with his hands, and also so he doesn't have to keep looking Kenma in the eye. "Whatever. Just— tell your fans to be better at detective work, 'cause they suck."

"Sure," Kenma hums, clearly amused.

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"Someone's going crazy," Suna sings when Atsumu bangs his head on the table, nearly knocking over his now-empty plate of onigiri.

He glares up at Suna through his bangs, choosing not to deign that with a reply. From beside him, Aran gives him the most exhausted look.

"So yer upset because ya want to be a part of the drama," Aran says, resting his cheek on his palm. "That sounds pretty in-character of ya. I don't know why this is such a big deal."

"Et tu, Aran-kun."

"He's been mopin' over the phone for the past week," Osamu adds as he comes over to their table to clear their plates. "I can't believe the only time you all visit me is so 'Tsumu can cry about his problems. Get out of my restaurant."

"But who will take your promo pictures for you if you kick me out?" Suna asks, blinking innocently at Osamu.

Osamu reaches out to pat his head. "Ya can stay if ya buy another plate."

"Stop ignorin' me!" Atsumu whines, sitting back up. Osamu gives him a judgemental look. Atsumu should've eaten him in the womb. "I'm not that implausible of a guess, am I? Why does no one think it's me?"

"Why do ya want people to think it's you?" Aran asks tiredly.

"Just because!" Atsumu shoots back, but he pauses when the question sinks in. "...I haven't really thought about that."

"Oh, here we go. He's about to have a moment of self-awareness," Suna whispers, pulling out his phone and pretending to take a video. Atsumu kicks him from under the table.

"Is it so wrong to want to be included?" he asks.

Aran presses his lips together. "Well, I don't know. I'm glad nobody thinks I'm Kozume's boyfriend. That sounds like such a hassle to deal with online."

"It is kind of annoying," Suna agrees, "even if it is funny. People are just making stuff up under my posts."

"Okay, but that means they think ya'd be a good fit as Kenma's boyfriend. That's a compliment," Atsumu argues, throwing his hands up. Seriously, what's so difficult to comprehend?

Osamu squints at him. "So ya want people to think that you're Kenma's boyfriend?"

"Yes! That's exactly it!"

Silence blankets the table. Three pairs of eyes turn to him, varying levels of judgement in their gazes. Wow. Atsumu needs to get better friends.

"I give up," Osamu says, turning on his heel, numerous plates in his hands. "Call me again when he figures it out."

"He's getting there," Suna says with a sage nod. "Any minute now…"

Something clicks. "Oh," Atsumu mumbles, arriving at the same conclusion they're all already at.

He's not upset about not being included, exactly, but Kenma was right when he said that Atsumu was jealous. It's because he wants to be seen as Kenma's boyfriend. He likes Kenma.

Atsumu drops his head onto the table again with a loud groan. Aran pats his hair sympathetically. Suna just laughs.

Unfortunately, knowing the source of the problem doesn't exactly get rid of it. If anything, it might have just made things worse.

Because now, Atsumu can't look at Kenma without getting plagued by thoughts of being Kenma's boyfriend. Their casual touches don't feel so casual anymore, but rather charged with tension. When Kenma steals his clothes or walks out of his room looking all sleepy, Atsumu's stomach does somersaults.

And the tweets aren't helping either.

Suna keeps sending him screenshots of the most diabolical guesses and a string of laughing cat stickers. Atsumu is considering blocking him at this point, because there's only so many times he can see someone claim that Kenma would be a good fit with someone else without going crazy. And he knows he has no right to feel jealous—Kenma is well-loved by all his friends—but Atsumu has never been able to feel something without letting it overtake his heart.

So it affects him wholly, and Kenma notices. Because Kenma is observant, and because they know each other.

Atsumu is in his room one weekend, knees to his chest as he scrolls on his laptop, looking at tweets about Kenma's alleged partner again. He's so lost in thought, wondering how he could drop some hints about his existence to Kenma's fans and whether Kenma will be upset at him for it, that he doesn't notice the knock on his door and Kenma poking his head in until he walks in to tap him on the shoulder.

He jumps, hand flying out to pull his laptop screen down. When he turns his head, he sees Kenma standing with a hand on his hip. He doesn't give Atsumu any warning or courtesy of subtlety, and straight up asks, "Why are you acting weird?"

He spins on his chair, facing Kenma with what he hopes is a nonchalant, neutral look. Judging by the deep frown on Kenma's face, he's not doing a very good job. "Whaddya mean?"

"Don't give me that," Kenma replies tiredly. He sets a cup of boba tea on Atsumu's desk like it's some kind of peace offering. "Here. I got this on the way back."

Atsumu glances at the drink. It's his exact order. "...For me?"

"Who else would it be for?" Kenma scoffs, and then his expression softens. "You keep looking at me funny, or you're spending all your time on your phone and laptop. And that's coming from me, who literally makes money from doing that. So, what's up with you? Someone talk shit about you on the internet?"

Atsumu's lips part. "Ah? Uh, no, nothin' like that."

"Well, it's got to be something. It can't be that bad, whatever it is. Just tell me."

Kenma always has such a way with words. Atsumu can't believe this is the person he's lowkey in love with—then again, he's no better when it comes to talking about feelings.

He bites the inside of his cheek, grabbing the plastic straw Kenma offered and poking it into his drink. Perhaps Kenma is trying to bribe him into telling the truth—the sweetness of milk tea on his taste buds is kind of making his tongue looser.

Kenma leans on his desk, crossing his arms lightly. He's staring at Atsumu's wall, where he has a bunch of volleyball posters hung up, next to his old Inarizaki captain jersey. He also has a poster of the Kodzuken logo up. "...I asked Shouyou, you know."

Atsumu winces. "About me?"

"Yeah, because you're being all secretive and in your head. I thought it might've been about volleyball practice, but Shouyou said you've been fine. He did also mention that you're spending all your break time on your phone, though." Kenma's fingers tap on his arms in quick beats. "So then I started thinking about when this all started."

Oh, great. Kenma put on his detective cap. Maybe Atsumu should run when he still has the chance.

"It was after you accidentally showed up in my stream, and a while later when I mentioned that you seemed jealous," Kenma concludes, turning a sly gaze onto Atsumu once more. "Isn't it?"

Atsumu gives up on putting up a pretense. He snatches the boba drink up, standing and ready to make his escape, even though there's not many places for him to go in this apartment. Kenma grabs onto his sleeve before he can leave, twisting the fabric and making him pause.

"I'm not upset at you," Kenma clarifies, his hand dropping to his side. "I just— I don't want to be reading this wrong."

"You're not readin' anything wrong," Atsumu replies dryly, looking over Kenma's head so he doesn't have to think about the squeezing in his heart.

"So you are still upset about that, then. Why?"

"D'ya really need to ask that?"

Kenma huffs. He takes a few steps back, forcing himself into Atsumu's line of sight. There's a few strands of his hair sticking up weirdly, and Atsumu fails to resist reaching out and smoothing them down for him. As his fingers run through soft strands, Kenma's lips quirk up into a smile.

"Post me, then."

Atsumu's world freezes. "What?"

"You're mad nobody knows you're my roommate," Kenma explains, as if Atsumu doesn't understand the implications. "So post me. Let them know that I'm yours."

"You—" Atsumu's cheeks colour at the speed of light, and he feels like there's hot flames licking at his skin. A lump forms in his throat, one that makes him struggle to ask, "Ya want to be mine?"

Kenma shrugs. His eyes dart down, and for a moment he actually looks more shy than the mischievous, crafty bastard he normally is. He leans forward until their noses almost touch, sending Atsumu's heart into overdrive, and his eyes curve into crescent moons as he shoots back, "Haven't I always been?"

Before Atsumu can muster up a reply that isn't just a string of choked out noises, Kenma bends down, mouth latching onto the straw and stealing a sip of Atsumu's boba tea. He yelps and Kenma laughs as he pulls away, running out of the room.

Atsumu stares at the spot he was just in for a bit, blinking dumbly, until his brain reboots. He smiles, warm and affectionate, and he yells, "Get back here, ya thief!"

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Atsumu shows Kenma his phone screen with a smug grin, pointing at the numbers on the singular tweet he made. "There. Now everyone knows for sure that I'm yer secret boyfriend."

"You say this like you've been my boyfriend this whole time."

"Yer fans don't need to know the details." Atsumu opens his arms and beams when Kenma crawls into them, snuggling up to him. He lets out a self-satisfied sigh and buries his face into Kenma's hair.

Kenma looks up, his eyes lidded and a lazy smile on his face as he asks, "So, how long have you liked me?"

Atsumu scowls. "How long have ya known?"

"Mm, I guessed. Maybe around a few months ago?"

"Oh." Atsumu tilts his head away. "Then you've known way longer than me."

"You're kidding." Kenma laughs, cupping Atsumu's cheeks and forcing him to look at him. "Well, that doesn't matter. Now the entire world knows that you like me."

"Don't sound so pleased. You like me too, y'know!"

"I guess so."

"Ya guess?" Atsumu grins, digging his fingers into Kenma's waist and watching him try to squirm away. Affection pools in Kenma's eyes, and they're like a magnetic force that drags Atsumu in to close the distance between them, sealing their lips together with a sweet kiss.

It'll be the first of many. Atsumu can't wait to see how else he'll get to love Kenma.

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