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"Good to be home you two?"
Kiyoomi shrugs at Atsumu's question, picking at the sticker a flight attendant had slapped on his suitcase before checking it. Bokuto takes a deep, loud inhale of the Tokyo air outside the airport, and exhales even louder.
"It's great! We're gonna win on home turf!"
"You bet," Atsumu agrees, leaning down to rip the sticker off Kiyoomi's bag in one swift movement. Kiyoomi squints at him as he pockets the trash.
"And listen," Bokuto says, changing to a more hushed voice and leaning closer to them. "If you two ever need help escaping for some lovey-dovey time, lemme know. I can distract and detain."
"Thanks Bokkun," Atsumu chuckles, "but I don't think we'll need ya detaining anyone for us."
Kiyoomi is still pursing his lips at his use of the term 'lovey-dovey' to describe his and Atsumu's alone time as they walk to the bus ready to take them to the Olympic village.
It's been over a year. Almost two. Very few know of their relationship. Bokuto is one of the few, having walked in on Atsumu crowding Kiyoomi against a locker about two weeks in. They learned to be more careful after that.
Then there's Osamu and Komori, because why wouldn't they tell those two. Kiyoomi has spoken about it to Ushijima, and he's sure Atsumu has told some of his high school friends. But other than their close circles, no one is the wiser.
Atsumu tugs at Kiyoomi's jacket almost imperceptibly as they approach the other Olympians at the bus stop, giving him a small smile before going ahead to greet familiar faces.
They agreed to keeping it private when they first got together. No cameras, no invasive interview questions, and more importantly, no judgment to deal with. And Kiyoomi likes his privacy in general, so it's really for the best this way. It's simple. It's secret.
So when they load the bus, Kiyoomi does nothing more than make lingering eye contact with Atsumu as he passes the blond in his seat next to Aran.
▿
"We got a decent view."
Atsumu peeks out the window of their cramped room to the bland waterfront. Kiyoomi barely hums in acknowledgment from where he unpacks the contents of his bag into the rickety wardrobe.
He's hanging a shirt when arms wrap around his torso from the back, pulling him into a firm chest.
"'M tired from that flight," Atsumu grumbles in his ear.
"It was only an hour," Kiyoomi says, leaning into him.
"You know planes always make me tired."
"I think it's the airport that makes you tired."
Atsumu hums against the crook of his neck. "Maybe. Nap with me."
"You can," Kiyoomi says, peeling the arms off of him. "I don't want to mess up my sleep schedule."
"Schedule shmedule," Atsumu complains, leaning over his shoulder to smack a kiss on Kiyoomi's cheek. "Wake me up if ya go to eat."
Kiyoomi nods, going back to hanging clothes while Atsumu puts in earbuds and flops onto the creaky bed with a dramatic huff.
When he's done he unzips Atsumu's bag, careful not to make too much noise next to the already snoring man while he starts to unpack his huge duffel bag. Shirts, pants, underwear, baseball cap, sweatshirt, melatonin.
He glances up from the bag on the ground to Atsumu. Atsumu does not need melatonin. As demonstrated now, he can go out like a light at pretty much any point if he wants to. But Kiyoomi is definitely a melatonin consumer.
He tries not to rely on it. Sometimes that means purposefully not bringing it to away games in case he gets tempted. Atsumu knows that. And Atsumu knows that away games are when Kiyoomi needs help sleeping the most.
He puts the bottle on the bed and keeps digging. He's pulling out the last item of clothing when the back of his hand brushes against something hard. He peeks back into the bag, seeing a tiny pocket in the lining of the bag, zipped closed.
So Kiyoomi unzips it, expecting another pill bottle or charging block. His fingers pinch something with a velvety outline and pull out a little box. And without any further thinking, he flips it open, revealing a silver ring.
A ring.
He drops the box and tenses every muscle to a freeze as the ring rolls across the floor and finally stops with a little clatter. He stays frozen as Atsumu shifts with a snort before going back to the same rhythmic heaves as before.
Kiyoomi snaps himself out of his daze, crawling over to where the ring had landed. He inwardly curses when his trembling fingers can't grip it right away, resulting in more tinkling noises against the floor.
He sits back on his feet, holding it up to the light. There's a diamond, but it's mostly embedded into the band in a way that it wouldn't snag onto things.
It could be for anyone, he tells himself. Atsumu is just simply holding onto for a friend so their significant other doesn't find the ring before they propose.
The engraving inside—
'To my Kiyoomi, forever Yours'
—says otherwise.
He takes a shuddering breath. Atsumu wants to propose. He brought the ring with him, which means he wants to do it here. Soon. Within their next couple weeks here.
Kiyoomi hadn't even considered this. Engagement. Marriage. They don't even live together yet.
But Atsumu feels that they're already there? What would he expect from Kiyoomi if he said yes? Would he want to make them public? Would he want to marry him in secret? What's Kiyoomi supposed to do now?
He slides back over, putting the ring back in the blue velvet box and zipping it back into the bag. He stuffs it between the bed and the wardrobe then stands, grabbing his phone and leaving the room with the quiet click of the door behind him.
▿
Atsumu
U better not have eaten without me
Jerk
Me
Just went on a walk
Atsumu
How close are u to cafeteria
Me
Meet me there
Bring a sweatshirt
Kiyoomi walks into the cafeteria, avoiding shoulders of other athletes filtering out. He spots Atsumu quickly, leaning on a wall while Bokuto talks to him animatedly, hands flying everywhere.
"Hey," Atsumu says as Kiyoomi steps towards them. "Bokkun already made friends."
"Who's surprised?"
"The American football team taught me how to kick the ball over my head and land in on my foot!"
"Ah ah," Atsumu says, wagging a finger. "You mean the soccer team."
Kiyoomi snorts at his exaggerated American accent and takes the MSBY sweatshirt held out to him. He unfolds it and blinks at the design.
"What's up?"
"It's yours," Kiyoomi explains, flipping it to show them the 'MIYA' displayed on the back.
"Mm, yeah?"
Kiyoomi lowers the sweatshirt, glancing away from Atsumu's confused look. The blond finally has an 'oh' moment and takes it back.
"Sorry, didn't think about it," he says, folding the sweatshirt back up. "Suna says the sushi is actually okay."
Kiyoomi nods, following the two of them into line. The only reason he's managed not to be awkward so far is because he sort of forgot about the whole ring thing when Bokuto's hand almost smacked him in the face when he walked up to them in the middle of his story telling.
So now that the moment has replayed in his mind again as he sits next to Atsumu, he forgets how to use chopsticks, stabbing his sushi wrong and making it fall apart on his plate. He's quiet as the other two talk, but any time a comment or question is directed at him he can't help but jerk his head up at his name.
"You good?" Atsumu wonders, nudging his shoulder with his own.
"Fine," Kiyoomi says a little too quickly. "Just… tired."
"Shoulda taken that nap."
"I napped on the plane," Bokuto says through a mouthful of pizza.
"Yeah, we know," Atsumu groans. "And trust me the whole flight hated ya for it."
"I don't snore that loud!"
"Oh yes ya do. Seriously, we're gonna have to start makin' those little goodie bags with candy and earplugs that parents give out so people don't throw their crying babies outta the plane."
Bokuto furrows his brows in offense, taking another big bite of pizza while Atsumu looks to Kiyoomi for a reaction. A snort, a laugh, a smile, an eye roll, anything.
Normally a joke like that would get Kiyoomi, but right now he's too busy wondering whether or not Atsumu will get down on one knee during halftime of their first game.
"Omi," he says softly, bumping shoulders again.
Kiyoomi flinches away from the touch, and Atsumu leans back with a mumbled apology.
"Are ya sure you're good? It's almost eight, you could probably go to sleep now. I brought melatonin if ya need it."
"I think I will," Kiyoomi says, standing with his plate. "I need to shower first."
"Want me to come with?"
Kiyoomi purses his lips down at Atsumu and Bokuto wiggles his brows.
"I mean, to the room," Atsumu clarifies, clearing his throat. "Not shower. Unless ya-"
"I can go by myself," Kiyoomi insists. "Make sure you shower too."
"Obviously."
▿
"Whoa, Omi."
Kiyoomi steps out of his tiny townhouse, dressed for a nice dinner with hair that took half an hour of painstaking styling. Atsumu is dressed just as well on his doorstep, and may have spent even more time on his hair.
"Ya look nice," he says quietly, and Kiyoomi almost smiles. He's never known Atsumu to be shy, especially with the compliments he gives out flirting at bars or clubs. But here he is, red faced in front of Kiyoomi and struggling to keep eye contact as his fingers fiddle with the cuffs of his sleeves.
"I just dressed accordingly for the restaurant," Kiyoomi explains, locking the door behind him.
Atsumu nods with a gulp, gesturing for him to go down the steps first.
Months ago, a bit before their first season together came to an end, Atsumu convince Kiyoomi to try a crappy ramen place downtown when Bokuto wasn't available, because he couldn't go by himself, he doesn't want to look like a loser Omi.
Kiyoomi agreed, and the ramen actually proved to be not too crappy. The next week, he mentioned a place he wanted to try, expecting the favor to be returned. It was, and Atsumu joined him for the twenty minute train ride across the city for mediocre udon.
And it continued. Sometimes bringing Bokuto with them, most times not. And throughout the off-season, they continued sending each other texts when a new restaurant caught their eye, or if they were craving one they've already been to.
There was no mention of how they could totally go with other people, and there was no mention of how much closer they had gotten. Soon they started going back to each other's apartments after meals and practice just because, and waiting for each other outside the locker room to walk towards their homes together.
And then, after the second practice of their second season together, Atsumu took a deep breath when they stopped at a crosswalk and asked Kiyoomi to try a new place with him. His suggestion was unlike the others in the past— a nice, mood lit restaurant on the pier that only takes reservations.
Kiyoomi agreed, naturally, but it wasn't until he was starting to fall asleep later that he realized why Atsumu seemed so nervous about asking this time.
"Omi," Atsumu shudders out now as they walk to the train. "Before we go for sure, I just wanted to, uh, clarify, I guess."
He scratches the back of his neck while Kiyoomi watches his nervous movements with amusement.
"I know we get dinner together a lot, 'specially at new place, but this time… I just feel like maybe I didn't convey my intentions quite-"
He cuts off with a stumbling step at the feeling of Kiyoomi's hand snaking around his bicep, pulling in close.
"What are your intentions?" Kiyoomi's asks just as shakily, suddenly worried that maybe he did read this wrong and he'll have to walk back to his house in shame after this.
Atsumu takes a breath. The gesture from Kiyoomi instilled a new confidence in him, and he covers Kiyoomi's hand with his own.
"My intentions are to take you on a date. And maybe a few more, if it goes well."
Kiyoomi wears a tiny smile as he stares at the sidewalk in front of them, nodding in understanding at the explanation.
Dinner isn't as seamless as usual at first; conversation gets a little stunted, but it's only because of their nerves that soon dissipate. Bickering and gossiping returns as normal, and they both poorly hide snorts when a child trips on a chair on his way to the bathroom.
They walk the pier after and Kiyoomi gets a kiss on his knuckles in thanks for the joining Atsumu. Atsumu walks him home and gets a kiss on the cheek in thanks for dinner.
And after Kiyoomi has already closed the door, and Atsumu is already two houses down after turning to leave, something tells the two of them that the night wasn't quite finished.
Kiyoomi opens his door back up at the same second Atsumu starts to climb his front steps again. Then there are hands on cheeks and hips and a satisfying kiss goodnight.
▿
Kiyoomi decides later that night, in his tiny hard Olympic bed, when Atsumu comes into the room as silently as he can and places a soft kiss on his temple, that he will simply go with the motions. No need to freak out about the potential proposal.
Because one, Atsumu isn't an idiot, and he knows better than to drop such a question in the middle of the Olympics, lest it throw Kiyoomi or him off their game. If anything, the ring will be taken out at some point after their last game.
And two, Kiyoomi isn't even supposed to know. he's supposed to be blissfully ignorant, living his Olympic dream like nothing is wrong, and therefore playing at the top of his game like usual. He can't let something like this distract him.
So he pushes it to the back of his mind.
He acts completely normal when they train, and Atsumu lets his hand linger when he pats him on the back after a good hit.
He acts normal during their first game, playing perfectly according to himself, and according to Atsumu who jerks them both in his uncomfortable bed later to celebrate their win.
He acts normal when they watch the women's volleyball team play, and Atsumu buys him a water and glances at him every ten minutes or so to check if he's overwhelmed enough to leave.
He acts normal when they go out for dinner with the team, and Atsumu nudges his foot under the table anytime someone says something he wants to react to with Kiyoomi.
He acts normal when he's the top scorer of their third game, and the prospect of winning gold becomes an even closer reality.
"Bokkun," Atsumu whispers harshly while they're surrounded by teammates at a bar afterwards. "Distract and detain if necessary."
Bokuto salutes with a stern expression before turning around with a shout, exclaiming a free drink for everyone on the team. Atsumu doesn't know in the moment, but he will be paying for all of those.
Kiyoomi is dragged to the bathroom shoved in a stall, and slammed against the door with a mouth on his neck.
"You're way too hot when you're playin' that good," Atsumu all but growls into his neck, hands dancing up Kiyoomi's sides under his shirt.
Kiyoomi grabs his face, bringing those lips to his own. One hand holds Atsumu's neck firmly in place while the other rakes into his blond hair and grips. Atsumu pushes a knee between his legs, and Kiyoomi takes the invitation to grind against his strong thigh, eliciting a vibrating groan from the other.
"You played okay," Kiyoomi pants, between kisses, hips still moving.
Atsumu breaks the kiss and nudges his leg further into Kiyoomi's crotch in retaliation. "I played superb, thank you very much."
He doesn't budge when Kiyoomi tries to pull him back in.
"Fine, superb," Kiyoomi says with a roll of his eyes.
"Nuh uh, ya gotta come up with your own compliment. Not fair if I just hand it to ya."
Kiyoomi purses his lips, fingers thrumming against Atsumu's skull as he pretends to think.
"Tick tock, Omi, I'm wait-"
"I love you."
"…That's cheatin' asshole. I love you too."
Kiyoomi just smiles, pulling him in my his neck again, just about to connect to lips when the sound of the celebration outside becomes clearer with the bathroom door swinging open.
Kiyoomi shoves Atsumu off of him, frantically motioning for him to stand on the toilet. Atsumu obeys, crouching on it with his hands pressed against the sides of the stall.
"Atsumu-san?"
Atsumu bites his lips while Kiyoomi winces at Hinata's voice.
"Atsumu-san?"
"He's not in here," Kiyoomi replies impatiently.
"Oh, Omi-san! If you see him, tell him the bartender gave me his card after everyone got a drink."
"I will."
"Thanks!"
The door closes again, and Kiyoomi signals for Atsumu to wait to jump down until after he's checked that Hinata is gone through the crack in the stall.
"So much for detaining if necessary," he remarks as Atsumu hops down.
He turns to his boyfriend, expecting a smile at his comment, but Atsumu frowns at the ground as he flattens his wrinkled shirt. He looks up at Kiyoomi with an unreadable look, and the frown doesn't leave.
"What?" Kiyoomi questions.
There's a pause before Atsumu sighs. "Nothin'. Just didn't know I was payin' for the free drinks."
"You should know better than to leave your wallet with Bokuto."
"See that's the thing, I didn't. Did he pickpocket me?"
Kiyoomi lets out an amused breath, and tugs Atsumu in by the collar of his shirt. But when he kisses him, he isn't met with the same ferocity as before. Just a returned kiss, nothing more.
He looks at Atsumu when they separate, and the blond uses a finger to move a stray curl that had fallen to cover the other side of Kiyoomi's forehead. Atsumu has mentioned how he can't stand his beauty marks being covered up.
"We should get back in there," he says lowly, squeezing one of Kiyoomi's wrists. "You go first."
Kiyoomi nods, dropping his hands to leave. And on his way out, he wonders how it would feel to walk out hand-in-hand with Atsumu. Someone would whistle, or cheer, and people would make fun of them.
But it would all be lighthearted. And Atsumu would squeeze his hand reassuringly, and Kiyoomi wouldn't be able to hold back a smile; a side effect of Miya Atsumu loving you.
▿
"Whoa. That's… whoa."
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes at his cousin's unhelpful response. They walk the sidewalk surrounding the one of the grass areas between housing, and Komori kicks a soccer ball back to a group of Italian Olympians playing for fun.
Pushing the ring aside in his mind has been easy with the distractions of practicing and playing games. And even at night, he takes a melatonin in the most cowardly way possible as not to give his mind too much time to think on it.
But tomorrow they play their last game. They play for gold. It should be enough to keep Kiyoomi's mind occupied, but he can't stop from stressing about the question that might come from Atsumu after.
"You're sure it's for you? Maybe he's-"
"It had my name written in it."
"Ah."
"So?"
"So?"
Kiyoomi huffs. "What do I do?"
"What do you do?"
Another annoyed sigh. "I shouldn't have told you. You never have anything helpful to say."
It's objectively false, he knows, but he's frustrated and stressed and confused and if he doesn't get his thoughts together correctly then his relationship is on the line. And he's very fond of where his relationship stands right now. Pre-ring.
"It's pretty simple, right?" Komori asks. Easy for him to say, he's not the one in the situation. "Do you want to marry him?"
Kiyoomi bites at his tongue.
"I want… I like where we're at now. If I agreed to that, everything would change. Quickly."
Komori hums, well aware of how unwell Kiyoomi tends to take big change.
"But if I don't agree, then… we lose the good thing we have going."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Komori laughs, waving his hands. "Slow it down. You think saying 'no' to a proposal is an automatic breakup?"
Kiyoomi gives a tentative nod. Isn't it?
"You're not considering breaking up with him for wanting to propose are you?"
Kiyoomi whips his head to Komori with a scowl. "No!"
"Okay, then doesn't that mean you want that proposal at some point down the line? Even if it needs to be later than now?"
Good point. It does mean that, doesn't it?
"So if he does it, and you feel in that moment that you aren't ready, just explain that it's too soon. I don't see Atsumu as the type to give up after one try, especially if it's something he's passionate about like you."
He's right. Atsumu wouldn't give up, and it's jarring that Kiyoomi knows that for a fact. It's jarring that Atsumu has cemented his love for Kiyoomi so deeply that he can't even find it himself to be insecure anymore; he knows that Atsumu wants to be with him and no one else, ever. Forever, Yours, as the ring had said.
So why was finding the ring so surprising? And why is he worrying about what he'd say if Atsumu got down on one knee? Whatever he answers, Atsumu will smile and kiss him goodnight later anyway.
"Is that a calmed down silence, or an overthinking silence?"
"…You were helpful for once."
"Glad to hear it. You getting dinner with my family later?"
▿
Dinner with the Komori's is always fun. He's closer in age with all three of his cousins than he is with either of his siblings, and he might have even spent more time with them growing up, so conversation is easy. And easing.
After a little heart-to-heart chat with his aunt where she basically said the same thing that her son did earlier in the day, Kiyoomi feels like there's a weight off his shoulder. He has reassurance that his relationship most likely won't be doomed no matter the outcome of the situation.
Komori waves him goodnight, stepping into his room to leave Kiyoomi to walk down the hall on his own. And when he gets to his door, he hears Atsumu's voice say something, and then "Omi", and then more somethings.
And he shouldn't, he knows he shouldn't but he carefully hovers an ear against the thin door and listens.
"I don't think I'm gonna do it."
Do what?
"'Cause he- well if you'd just shut it and listen for two seconds ya wouldn't be askin'!"
So he's talking to his brother.
"I dunno, it's just… we haven't even told people, y'know? Maybe I'm goin' at this too fast."
Kiyoomi's breath halts. He's talking about the proposal that hasn't happened. That might not happen.
"No, don't put words in my mouth, I'm ready! I've been ready, but he, I think he needs more time."
Kiyoomi breathes again. Maybe he does need more time. He doesn't know.
"It's one thing not bein' totally PDA, I'm fine with that, but this is just us sneakin' around. It was fun for the first year or so I guess. But now he still flinches away half the time I touch 'im in public, and I already told ya the whole bathroom story. I dunno, it's just…"
Just…
"No, see?! You're puttin' words in my mouth again! I don't wanna leave 'im or anything close to that!"
Thank god.
"I'm just reconsiderin' is all. Like maybe, convince 'im to move in with me first. I'm pretty sure he'd say yes. Then convince him to tell more people. Then give it another year-ish before poppin' the question."
It's a sound plan, Kiyoomi thinks. He brews in it, practicing how he'd say yes to moving in with Atsumu in case he asks soon while Atsumu says goodnight to his brother and hangs up.
After a couple minutes to be safe, Kiyoomi turns the handle and steps in. Atsumu is sitting on his bed with wet hair and eyes that shoot up from his phone to Kiyoomi.
"How was dinner?" he smiles.
"Good," Kiyoomi replies, gaze shifting around the room.
The clothes they had haphazardly thrown onto their beds that morning are now folded neatly in the wardrobes, and their shoes are lined up at the door.
"You tidied up for once," he comments, and Atsumu stands with a nod.
"Can we push the beds together tonight?" he asks in a sleepy tone.
Kiyoomi should say no. He should say they're playing their last game tomorrow and shouldn't risk getting poor sleep.
"We should get the best sleep we-"
"My best sleep is with you."
When did Kiyoomi become so weak? He simply nods, not in defeat, but in agreement.
Strong arms wrap around his waist and pull him in, and Atsumu presses his face into the crook of Kiyoomi's neck with a sigh. Kiyoomi returns the hug with hands rubbing soothingly on Atsumu's back, and his gaze moves to his bed.
On the bed, a clean sleep shirt, pajama pants, and boxers are folded neatly next to a towel and washcloth ready for his shower. On his nightstand, a full bottle of water with ice and a little pack of those pretzels Kiyoomi likes that are only in the vending machine near the basketball courts. And a new charger with a long cord. Kiyoomi had complained about his not being long enough to reach the bed properly.
He pulls away from Atsumu just enough to get him to lift his head and direct his bleary eyes at Kiyoomi.
"Love ya."
He has to marry this man.
▿
They lose the last match. There are tears of frustration, but most of the team at least wears big smiles for the pictures and podium. Kiyoomi is one of the few who didn't shed any tears, and it's probably that fact that attracts more reporters to him.
After a reporter leaves him to talk with the other team, his eyes find Atsumu across the court. His eyes are still wet, but Kiyoomi can tell he's delivering the best interview can, probably making some proclamation about second place being the first loser, or that they're definitely not losing next time.
Atsumu goes back to the rooms with Aran, who is probably most qualified to deal with a mopey Atsumu. Kiyoomi is a bit behind them the whole way, discussing the game with Ushijima while Hinata and Kageyama argue obnoxiously behind them.
The team obviously plans to celebrate their silver medals, and even if Atsumu is pissed the whole night, he'll still go without second thought. So Kiyoomi mentally prepares to shower and join him and the team for a night out. He could use a drink or two.
When he gets back to the room, Atsumu has already left for the showers, so he does the same. When he gets back, Atsumu is sitting on his bed, eyes glued to his phone and barely glancing up at Kiyoomi.
"Ya played great," he says nasally.
"I know," Kiyoomi says, using his towel to dry his hair. "And you know you did too."
Atsumu shrugs, mumbling out a "whatever" and tossing his phone to the side. Kiyoomi turns to his wardrobe, looking for something suitable to wear for later, but turns back around at the sound of a loud sniffle.
Atsumu catches his eye, furrowing his brows at the attention.
"What? I can't be upset that I lost? Sure, ten years down the road a silver medal at the Olympics will feel pretty cool, but it's just a lame consolation prize right now so let a guy be pissed about it! Jesus."
Kiyoomi barely rises his brows at the tirade, wondering if maybe Aran had managed to say the wrong thing on the walk back, or if it really is hitting Atsumu this hard.
He walks over to stand in front of Atsumu, reaching to his head with the towel. He ruffles it around, drying the blond hair despite Atsumu swatting at his hand at first with an overly dramatic "ow!"
"Get some sleep," Kiyoomi says once he's satisfied with his work. "I'll wake you up when it's time to get ready."
Atsumu grumbles about his hair being messed up now, but does as he's told and lays down over the covers, putting his earbuds in. Kiyoomi lays a sweatshirt on top of him and leaves to Komori and Suna's room.
When he gets back a couple hours later, Atsumu is fast asleep, snoring softly and clutching onto Kiyoomi's sweatshirt. Kiyoomi watches his shoulders rise and fall for a minute before rubbing at his arm. When it doesn't do the trick, he does it more harshly, shaking Atsumu's whole body on the creaking bed.
"What?" he practically whines, rubbing at an eye.
"I'm leaving with Komori and Suna. You need to get ready now if you want to go with us."
A tired groan, a loud yawn, and a stretch later, Atsumu wills himself up from the bed. Kiyoomi, with his outfit already in mind, gets changed efficiently. But by the time he's buttoning his pants Atsumu has only done the first step of getting ready— stripping.
He stares at his bed, arms crossed and wearing nothing but his boxers as his narrowed eyes flit between different shirts and pants he laid out.
"Who are you trying to impress?" Kiyoomi asks as straight faced as possible.
Atsumu gives him a very unimpressed look, not in the mood for jokes yet, apparently. So Kiyoomi takes the three steps necessary to cross the entire room and picks up two shirts.
He holds up the red shirt. "More people hit on you in this one."
Then a white one. "But this one suits you more.
Atsumu snatches the white one. "Just say ya like the way I look in it."
Kiyoomi doesn't say that, but he does watch as Atsumu tugs jeans over his impressive thighs and ass, and then walks over to start button up his shirt.
"Not all the-"
"I know, top three undone. Pervert."
Atsumu's chest rises with a deep breath.
"Sorry for snappin' at ya."
Kiyoomi finishes the last button and smooths the shirt over his chest and stomach. "Okay."
"I know you're frustrated too."
"Mm."
"You know I'm in love with ya, right?"
Kiyoomi slides arms around him. "Oh?"
"Yeah, kinda weird right? You're so rude to me all the time."
"You're one to talk about being rude right now."
"Okay, yeah," Atsumu chuckles, wrapping arms around his back. "I like it when you're mean to me anyway."
Kiyoomi kisses him. Atsumu kisses back until a hand trails down and touches his ass.
"Who's the pervert now?" he says a little too loud, moving both of his hands to grope at Kiyoomi's behind.
"Still you," Kiyoomi smirks, pulling away. "Come on, they might've left already with you taking so long."
"We're all goin' to the same place, no rush."
Atsumu takes another seven minutes taming his hair and Kiyoomi has to text his cousin to say they'll be another few minutes. Finally, they go to meet with the others down in the lobby.
It's more than just Komori and Suna. In fact, it's about half of the Olympic team, and they all cheer at Kiyoomi and Atsumu's appearance, saying they can finally leave. With the large group, they walk, rather than try to climb on a bus. Somehow they all still have enough energy for it.
Atsumu and Kiyoomi get wrangled into the middle of the crowd, despite Kiyoomi's preference for being at the end. Hoshiumi, Gao, and Aran talk with Yaku and Komori in front of them. Behind them, people watch with exasperation as Hinata and Kageyama argue, and Atsumu turns his head to add his two cents every once in a while.
At some point, Ushijima finds his way to the middle, walking beside Kiyoomi as they discuss what they plan to order since neither of them went to the cafeteria before. Atsumu and Suna watch a Tokyo Olympics fail compilation that someone has already made on the latter's phone.
When they get to narrower sidewalk, Atsumu's hand brushes the back of Kiyoomi's. He doesn't pull back hurriedly or mumble out an apology. But even more surprising, is Kiyoomi doesn't flinch away. He just continues conversation like normal.
It happens again, their knuckles practically stopping each other's in place before their hands go back to swinging with their own paces.
And when it happens the third time, Kiyoomi doesn't let it stop. He maneuvers his fingers to slide into Atsumu's, glancing down to where their hands clasp.
The loud conversation happening behind them fizzles into silence, but returns to full volume a moment later.
When Kiyoomi looks up, Atsumu's gaze is on him. His eyes aren't too wide, but there's definitely some surprise to his expression.
Kiyoomi squeezes his hand with a look.
Is this okay?
Atsumu smiles, returning the squeeze.
Of course.
▿
Some others including Bokuto are already at the bar when they arrive. He takes a look at their interlocked hands, and after a second of shock, gives them double thumbs up with an ear to ear grin.
Kiyoomi scoffs, unable to stop the lift of the corner of his lip, and Atsumu chuckles with the shake of his head, nodding to Bokuto in thanks before leading them to a table.
They order some table food. Atsumu laughs with Bokuto and Aran while his thumb rubs back and forth over Kiyoomi's hand under the table. Then Atsumu lets go to give his thigh a quick squeeze as he stands, saying he's going to get them drinks.
Kiyoomi watches him leave towards the bar, and regrets the action when he turns back to Bokuto beaming at him from the other side of the table.
"So, what's up?" he asks excitedly. "You guys talk about it? Little conversation about going public? Are you gonna announce it on Instagram?"
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, picking at the appetizer in front of him. "There was no conversation, and there's not going to be an Instagram post. For now."
"What?" Aran asks, head turning quickly between Kiyoomi, Bokuto, and Atsumu walking back with two drinks in his hands. "What?!"
He had been at the head of the herd and not seen their hand holding, but Kiyoomi thought that with how close he and Atsumu were, he would've known.
"What's up?" Atsumu asks, sliding back into his seat and handing a drink to Kiyoomi.
"We're dating," Kiyoomi responds.
"What, you and Aran? C'mon man, I called dibs!"
"You- how did I not know this?!"
Atsumu shrugs, taking a sip. "No one did, really. Just Bokkun, 'Samu, and Komori. And my mom."
"And Wakatoshi-kun."
Now Atsumu is whipping his head towards him. "Huh?"
"Wakatoshi-kun knows. I mentioned it a few months ago when we got lunch."
"What? If I knew that I totally would've told Aran by now!"
"Wait, wait, wait," Aran cuts it, waving his hands. "A few months ago? How long have you been together."
"Mm, it'll be two years next month, right?"
Kiyoomi nods. Aran's fingers dig into his skull.
"Two… years. Atsumu kept a relationship secret for two years."
They get their fair share of attention that night. News spreads fast. They aren't glued to each other's sides the whole night, but still receive congratulations from teammates.
Kiyoomi doesn't drink heavily very often, but winning a silver medal at the Olympics is a pretty good excuse to. It doesn't help that he lets his cousin convince him to take 'half' a shot with him every twenty minutes to keep the buzz going.
Hours go by, some spent clinging to Atsumu, and some not. Eventually Atsumu, for once being the less drunk of the two, cuts him off.
"Aw, c'mon!" Komori whines, going to lean on a table but missing completely and stumbling. "We could still take a few more!"
"You can take all ya want," Atsumu tells him, just as slurred as he wraps an arm around Kiyoomi's waist and forces Kiyoomi's arm around his shoulder. "But I don't want my Omi-kun pukin' up too much later."
Kiyoomi laughs, no, daresay he giggles, pressing his nose into Atsumu's cheek as the blonde tugs him to a table far away from Komori's peer pressuring.
"Your Omi," he smiles as they stumble along.
"Yes, yes, my Omi-omi," Atsumu says, depositing him into a booth then sliding in next to him.
Kiyoomi's cheek immediately lands on his shoulder, and his fingers struggle to lace together with Atsumu's for a moment.
"Your Omi."
"My Omi."
Atsumu presses a kiss into his curls.
"Your Kiyoomi."
"My Kiyoomi."
"Forever Yours."
Atsumu stiffens. He pulls his hand away, and Kiyoomi lifts his head in question.
"What'd ya just say?"
What did he just say? For the past hour he's just been saying whatever pops into his mind first. 'Your Omi', 'your Kiyoomi', 'forever yours'.
Kiyoomi stiffens now, realizing the reason the phrase popped into his mind. The ring.
'To my Kiyoomi, forever Yours'
"I don't… know."
"You don't know what ya said? I said 'my Kiyoomi' and you said 'forever yours'. Why'd ya say that?"
Atsumu has turned to lean an arm on the table, shielding the rest of crowded bar from Kiyoomi. He glances around, not finding any way out of the situation and sobering up impressively quick by the second.
"I found it," he whispers.
Atsumu's eyes couldn't be wider. His expression couldn't be more dumbfounded.
"Found…"
"The ring. In your bag, while I was unpacking."
Atsumu finally blinks.
"That's- you-"
He runs a hand through his hair, then drags it back down his face.
"Why didn't ya say anything?"
Kiyoomi can't respond.
"Is it 'cause ya didn't wanna ruin the surprise?"
He should just nod. He should say that's exactly why, and that he never had any doubts. But he can't lie to him, he can't say that. And judging by Atsumu's hurt face, he's starting to piece together of theory on why not.
"It's 'cause… ya don't want it."
Kiyoomi still feels frozen in place, but he puts every amount of effort he has into opening his mouth so he can adamantly deny that statement. But when he does open his mouth, the only thing that comes out is a concerning cough followed by the horrible feeling of saliva pooling under his tongue.
He barely registers Atsumu dragging him out of the booth and hurrying him over to the bathroom. If Kiyoomi weren't back to his weary, drunken state of mind, he'd probably have a heart attack, gripping a public toilet seat as he pukes out all of his drinks and the takoyaki appetizer.
Atsumu rubs lightly on his shoulder, ordering him to lean back every once in a while so he can flush. Kiyoomi thinks he registers Komori coming to check in on them. And then he's leaning on the window of a bus, and then he's leaning on the wall of the elevator with tears in his eyes, and then his cousin is taking his shoes off of him after he flopped under the covers the conjoined twin bed.
And then the door is shut, and there's no one in the bed beside him.
▿
Kiyoomi wakes to the sun assaulting his face. His eyelids are heavy as he forces them to slowly blink open. He opens his mouth with a smack and closes it with a wince of the bad taste.
Then he shoots upright, remembering why that bad taste is in his mouth, and remembering the horrible consequences of his drinking. His head pounds.
He looks to the bed beside him. The covers are askew and the pillow is dented, so Atsumu did at least sleep here when he got back. Whenever that was.
He glances over to the door. Atsumu's running shoes are gone. He claims a good run is the perfect hangover cure. He also runs when he's upset.
Kiyoomi knows what to do. He just let everyone know in quite an embarrassing fashion that Atsumu is the love of his life, and he loves being Atsumu's. There's no reason to go slow, to take their time, or to let Atsumu drown in his thoughts of thinking Kiyoomi won't marry him on the spot.
So he gets up, throws on running clothes, digs the ring box from Atsumu's bag, and runs out the door.
Thirty minutes of nauseating jogging later, he finally spots Atsumu's familiar figure turn a corner in the direction of their dorm. He picks up his pace, not even noticing Hinata and Kageyama waving as he runs past them, his mind intent on one thing.
"Atsumu!" he calls as he turns the corner.
Thankfully Atsumu isn't wearing earbuds and hears him the first time, so he doesn't have to try again and risk throwing up. Atsumu turns around as he slows his pace and hesitates. Like he wants to run away. To his credit, he does not, and jogs to meet Kiyoomi halfway.
"Should ya really be up?" he asks with a loose smile, though there's no real mirth behind it.
Kiyoomi puts a hand to his sternum, taking a deep, closed-eyed breath to push down whatever was trying to make its way back up. It's a wonder there's anything left to come back up in the first place.
"Atsumu, I love you."
Atsumu's smile falters. He catches his breath. He sighs. He looks around.
"Omi, I get it," he finally says. "I was movin' a little too fast. We don't have to change what we have goin' on. So, just give me a little time to… recuperate, I guess. And we can go back to-"
"No," Kiyoomi interrupts.
Atsumu's head jerks up a bit. There's a terrible, gut-wrenching, heartbroken look on his face. Kiyoomi's stomach flips in a horrible way seeing it.
"No, that's, I didn't mean that!" Kiyoomi insists, stumbling on his words.
Atsumu's expression softens a bit, but doesn't light up in the smile Kiyoomi wants etched into his brain.
"I, I didn't tell you I found it because I was worried," Kiyoomi admits. "I had never thought of marriage. In my head, the next big step in our relationship would be telling a few more people, not getting engaged. You can see how there's a substantial difference between the two of those, right?"
Atsumu stares past his shoulder, giving a weak nod.
"And, I was worried that if I said no, what we have would end."
"I don't want it to," Atsumu cuts in, taking his hands.
He looks down at the feeling of Kiyoomi's closed fist. The latter pulls away slightly, opening his fingers to reveal the blue velvet box.
"I know," Kiyoomi says, his eyes begging Atsumu to keep his gaze. "I know you wouldn't want that. I know if I said I want more time, you'd say it's fine. But I didn't know my answer for sure, so I couldn't say anything in the moment."
He squeezes Atsumu's hand with his beside the ring box.
"I know now," he says, with more resolution than he's probably ever had before. "And I feel ridiculous now, because it should've been such an easy decision to come to. I love waking up next to you, I love playing with you, I love making eggs with you, I love- I love, taking melatonin from you!"
Atsumu's brows shoot up in amusement. Still no smile, Kiyoomi notices.
"I love you, and I don't want to be with anyone else but you, and I've been sure of that this whole time. So I finally thought, after way too long, why should I waste time? Why should I waste my time, your time, by thinking this might be too fast? It's not too fast. It's perfect. It's all I want ever, so, please."
He takes Atsumu's hand, pushing the box into his hold. And Atsumu takes it, staring at Kiyoomi in awe as his thumb rubs back and forth on the material.
"I love ya," he says.
Kiyoomi nods, chewing on his tongue.
"I'll be givin' ya melatonin 'til the day we die."
Kiyoomi laughs, aware of how wet it sounds from the way he's starting to tear up.
"You… pretty much just stole the whole speech I was gonna give. I was even gonna say a thing about makin' eggs together."
And there's that smile. Kiyoomi's sure he'd die without it.
"Kiyoomi," Atsumu says, "I'm so in love with ya. I still get nervous before our dates. My stomach still flips when ya smile at me. And you're so beautiful I can't look away sometimes, and then I remember that somehow you aren't just a fantasy of mine, you're actually with me. You actually want me. It's… unbelievable."
He lowers to a knee, opening the box.
There are gasps and murmurs from other early risers on the sidewalk and grass. They don't hear any of them through the moment.
"Marry m-"
"Yes."
"Geez, let a guy get it out. Marry me."
"Okay," Kiyoomi smiles with an outstretched impatiently grabbing at the box.
Atsumu pulls it away, taking out the ring himself. He slides it onto Kiyoomi's finger as he stands and wraps an arm around his waist to tug him in.
Kiyoomi's shining hand flies to Atsumu's cheek while the other grips at his side like it's his lifeline. Atsumu's hands press impossibly deep into the small of his back as their lips press even deeper together. He feels a couple hot tears from Atsumu fall onto his cheeks. Maybe one or two of them are his.
"Ugh, your puke breath."
"Shut up."
They finally register the cheering of some girls messing around with a volleyball in the grass. Gymnastics team, probably. Then there's Hinata sobbing a few yards behind Kiyoomi, and Kageyama giving him a judgmental stare in response.
"Atsumu-san! Omi-san! Congratulations!" Hinata cries with hands cupping his mouth.
"Thanks," Atsumu calls back as Kiyoomi rolls his eyes.
"Is he crying more than you?" he asks.
"I'm not cryin'!"
Kiyoomi shakes his head, wiping away a tear with his thumb.
"I love you."
"Love ya more."
"Does everything have to be a competition?"
"Yep, and I won the proposin' competition," Atsumu smirks.
"That's debatable," Kiyoomi says, considering that he sort of just forced the proposal out of him.
"Whatever," Atsumu says, still smiling big. "Move in with me?"
"I don't know," Kiyoomi teases, "it's a pretty big step."
"We could move into your place instead," Atsumu offers. "It's bigger."
"Or," Kiyoomi starts, pulling away so he can take the ring off. "We could get a new place. Together."
Atsumu nods at the idea as Kiyoomi looks down at the ring in his hand and rereads the inscription.
"To my Kiyoomi," Atsumu mutters, tapping their foreheads together.
Kiyoomi smiles even bigger, if possible.
"Forever yours."
▿
There's a post on Atsumu's Instagram later— a picture of Kiyoomi taken from the side, his face resting in his hand that's propped up by his elbow on Atsumu's kitchen table as he scrolls through his phone.
There's no caption. But the picture is very much deliberate. The ring is very much the focal point. And Bokuto is very much the first to like, comment, and send to everyone he knows.