Work Text:
It was around 10:00 p.m. when the movie finally ended.
Sakusa didn’t move.
He stayed seated, eyes fixed on the screen long after the credits had begun to roll, feeling the slow, creeping anxiety settle under his skin with every passing second.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t enjoyed the movie, because he had, more than expected actually. And Atsumu’s company, well…
That wasn’t the problem either.
It was everything else.
The circumstances that had led them here.
The timing.
The fact that this (whatever it was) felt off in a way Sakusa couldn’t quite put into words, only recognize as something uncomfortable sitting heavy in his chest.
...
Everything had started a week earlier, to be specific, finals week. Sakusa had been sitting in his living room, surrounded by notes and exercises, preparing for what he considered the worst possible exam: Calculus.
He was good at it. Objectively. But that didn’t stop the quiet, persistent fear of failure from creeping in anyway. Although, he would never admit that out loud.
He had Komori on the phone. The two of them going over a set of practice problems their teacher had assigned as study material, when Komori suddenly went quiet.
Then, in a concerning tone he said:
“Uh… Kiyoomi?”
Sakusa frowned slightly, eyes still on his notebook.
“What? Was that not the answer?”
“No, no, it’s not that,” Komori said, voice pitched strangely, like he was holding something back. “Um. Guess who just texted me… about you.”
Sakusa paused.
A million possibilities flashed through his mind in the span of a second, but given the events of the past few weeks, there was really only one that made sense.
“…What did he say?”
The silence that followed did nothing to ease the growing tension in his chest. If anything, it made it worse.
“He wants to ask you out. As in, go on a date with you, to the cinema.” Komori blurted, barely containing his excitement. “Oh my God. Kiyoomi, you have to go!”
Sakusa’s grip on his pen tightened slightly.
“He hasn’t even told me anything directly.”
“So?” Komori shot back immediately. “You should still go. Don’t start pretending you haven’t wanted this.”
Sakusa scoffed quietly.
“He lost his chance two years ago,” he said, tone flat. “I’m not even considering it unless he asks me himself. If he even has the nerve to do that.”
“Oh, give him a break,” Komori said. “Would it really kill you to go, even if it is as friends?”
Sakusa didn’t answer.
Because the truth was… He didn’t know.
And then, as if on cue, his phone buzzed against the table.
Both of them went silent.
Sakusa glanced at the screen.
From: Miya Atsumu
Hey Omi-Omi :D
…His heart skipped.
Just once.
Annoyingly noticeable.
Sakusa stared at the message a second longer than necessary, something uncomfortable twisting in his chest.
He had gotten over this.
He was sure he had.
“...What the fuck, Komori.”
“What? Did he actually text you?”
Sakusa exhaled slowly, still staring at his phone, astonished.
“He did.”
Komori let out a loud, incredulous noise. “Well, there you go! You wanted him to ask you directly—”
“But I don’t want to go.”
The words came out quicker than Sakusa expected.
Too quick.
Almost as if it was an automatic response.
“…Okay,” Komori said, more carefully this time. “Well, then don’t.”
Sakusa frowned.
“…But how do I even say no?” he muttered. “I'm still most likely going to see him tomorrow at school.”
“By saying no.” Komori replied. “Okay, Kiyoomi, you don’t have to do anything just because he finally decided to try.”
Sakusa knew that, of course he did.
That was the logical answer.
The correct one.
And yet—
His thumb hovered over the screen.
A single message.
That was all it took.
After everything they went through.
“…It’s not that simple,” he said quietly.
Komori didn’t respond right away.
He didn’t need to.
Sakusa already knew what he was going to say.
“You’re overthinking it,” Komori said eventually. “Just decide what you truly want.”
What he wanted.
Sakusa stared at the message again.
At the stupid nickname.
At the fact that, even now, after all this time…
It still got a reaction out of him.
“…What if,” Sakusa muttered under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
A pause.
Then, before he could think about it too much—
“…I’ll go.”
—
They finished the exercises and the call ended not long after.
Komori says something else, about not overthinking and just going, but Sakusa doesn’t really register it.
He hangs up.
Silence settles into the room.
For a while, he just sits there, staring at his phone.
Then, slowly, he stands.
Walks to his room.
Drops onto his bed without even bothering to turn the lights off.
The message is still open on his screen.
From Miya Atsumu:
Hey Omi-Omi :D
Sakusa exhales sharply, pressing the heel of his hands against his eyes.
“…So annoying.”
He turns onto his side.
Closes his eyes.
That should be the end of it.
It isn’t.
Because the moment he lets his mind wander—
It goes straight back to him.
Atsumu, sitting too close.
Not enough for anyone to say anything.
But enough that Sakusa had to shift slightly, just to breathe.
“You look nice today.”
Sakusa frowned at that.
“…I always look the same.”
Atsumu had grinned.
“Yeah, but today your curls are more defined.”
Sakusa opens his eyes again, staring at the ceiling.
His fingers curl slightly against the sheets.
“…That doesn’t mean anything.” He said, trying to convince himself.
Because it actually didn’t meant anything.
It shouldn’t.
Atsumu showed up again.
And again.
And again.
Finding excuses to stay.
To talk.
To sit next to him, even when there were other places to be.
Then... nothing.
Sakusa’s jaw tightens, because that part is the one that lingers the most.
Not what Atsumu did.
But what he didn’t.
Atsumu laughing with someone else.
Leaning in the same way.
Saying things that sounded… familiar.
Too familiar.
Sakusa had looked away.
Like it didn’t matter.
Like he hadn’t noticed. But he did.
“I didn’t wait.”
The words leave his mouth quietly, like he wanted them engraved in his mind.
“I didn’t.”
And maybe that’s true.,, in a way.
He hadn’t been actively waiting.
Hadn’t been checking his phone.
Hadn’t been hoping.
But, he had noticed his absence.
Every single time.
Sakusa exhales slowly, dragging a hand down his face.
“…So why now?”
The question hangs in the air, unanswered.
Of course it does.
Atsumu has never been good at timing.
His phone is still in his hand.
Still open.
Still waiting.
Sakusa stares at it for a long moment.
Then , he started typing.
To: Miya Atsumu
Hey, Miya.
—
The next day, after their exam, the courts are louder than usual.
Shoes squeaking against the floor, the sharp echo of the ball hitting hands, laughter bouncing off the walls—too much noise, too many people.
Sakusa prefers it that way.
It gives him something to focus on.
Anything but–
“Oi, Sakusa.”
He doesn’t turn immediately, he doesn’t need to.
He knows that voice.
“…What?”
When he finally looks, Kita Shinsuke is already watching him, arms loosely crossed, expression unreadable.
“You’re avoiding him.”
Sakusa clicks his tongue. “I’m not.”
Kita doesn’t argue.
He just raises an eyebrow slightly, which is worse.
Sakusa exhales, running a hand through his hair.
“I just don’t see the point in talking right now.”
“You agreed to go out with him.”
“I know.” Did Atsumu told every single one of his friends that he asked him out? Or how the fuck is it that Kita already knew? Sakusa thinks.
“Then talk to him.”
Sakusa looks away.
Across the court, Atsumu is laughing at something his twin Osamu said. Easy, familiar.
Like nothing was wrong.
Like this isn’t...
Whatever this is.
“…It’s not that simple.”
“It is,” Kita says. “You’re the one making it complicated.”
Sakusa scoffs softly.
Of course he is, apparently that’s kind of his thing.
A ball rolls toward them, and Sakusa traps it with his foot without thinking.
“You don’t have to go,” Kita adds after a moment. “Not if you don’t want to.”
“I already said yes.”
“So?”
Sakusa doesn’t answer.
Because that’s exactly the problem.
He already said yes. Before thinking it through.
Before deciding what he actually wanted.
Before–
“Hey.”
Sakusa freezes.
Too close.
He hadn’t even noticed Atsumu walking over.
“…Hi,” Atsumu says, scratching the back of his neck, suddenly looking a lot less confident than he had a second ago.
Kita glances between them once, then steps back.
“Talk,” he mouths to Sakusa, before walking off back to the court.
Traitor.
There’s a brief, uncomfortable silence.
Sakusa can feel it settling between them, thick and awkward.
“…So,” Atsumu starts. “About what I said—”
“I’ll go.”
The words came out too fast.
Atsumu blinks.
“Ah. Yeah, I mean, I figured, but—”
“I said I would.”
“…Right.”
Another pause.
God, this is painful.
Sakusa shifts his weight slightly, already feeling the urge to leave. “So, what movie were you thinking?” he asks, just to fill the silence.
Atsumu brightens a little at that. “Uh, I was thinkin’ we could pick when we get there? Didn’t wanna choose somethin’ ya’d hate.”
“I won’t hate it.”
“Yeah, but still.”
Sakusa nods once. “…Okay.” He said.
Brief. Neutral. Done.
Another silence.
Longer this time.
Atsumu opens his mouth again, like he’s about to say something else, but then stops.
“Well, see ya later then Omi. I'll text ya to send ya the details.” he says instead.
Sakusa nods.
“Yeah.”
Atsumu lingers for a second.
Like he’s expecting something more.
Sakusa doesn’t give it.
Eventually, Atsumu steps back.
Turns. Walks away.
Sakusa watches him go.
Just for a second.
Then looks away.
“…You’re overthinking this,” Kita’s voice comes from somewhere behind him.
Sakusa exhales.
“I know.”
That doesn’t make it any easier.
—
It was a week after that when the day finally came. Sakusa got a little too anxious about it for some reason, so, he decided to tell Komori to come over to his house and help him get ready.
“You’re overthinking it.”
“I’m not.”
“You’ve changed shirts three times.”
Sakusa pauses mid-motion, holding up a fourth option.
“This one is different.”
From the other side of the room, Komori stares at him.
“It’s black.”
“It’s not the same black.”
Komori squints. “…It’s the same black.”
Sakusa clicks his tongue, turning slightly toward the mirror.
“It fits better.”
“You said that about the last one.”
“That one didn’t.”
“It literally did.”
Sakusa ignores him.
Because this…This is different.
This isn’t just going out, it’s—
He stops that thought before it can fully form.
“It’s just a movie.”
Komori hums. “Right, just a movie. That’s why you’re acting like this.”
“I’m not acting like anything.”
“You are, actually.”
Sakusa exhales sharply. Annoying.
He sets the shirt down. Runs a hand through his hair.
“I shouldn’t have said yes.”
Komori’s expression softens, just slightly. “Then don’t go, tell him something happened.”
“I already agreed.”
“So?”
Sakusa hesitates.
“I… want to see what he does.”
Komori tilts his head.
“With you?”
“No, God, Komori.” Sakusa says, too quickly. “In general.”
Komori smiles a little at that. He doesn’t push it.
“Okay,” he says instead. “Then go.”
Sakusa looks at his reflection in the mirror again. Adjusts his sleeve.
“I don’t know what this is.”
Komori shrugs lightly. “You don’t have to.”
A pause.
“But you do have to stop pretending you don’t care at all.”
Sakusa stills.
Just for a second.
“…I don’t care.”
Komori doesn’t respond.
He doesn’t need to.
—
Atsumu is already there.
Of course he is.
Sakusa spots him immediately, standing near the entrance, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, checking his phone every few seconds.
He looks… Nervous?
It’s strange.
Sakusa isn’t used to seeing him like that.
For a moment, he considers turning around. Leaving. Pretending he never came.
But–
It’s too late.
Atsumu looks up.
Their eyes meet.
And just like that, there’s no escaping it.
“Omi!”
Too loud.
Too bright.
Too–
Atsumu walks over, stopping just a little too close.
“Hey,” he says, suddenly more awkward up close. “Ya, uh—got here okay?”
“…Yeah.”
Right. Great start.
Atsumu laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah. Right, obviously. Stupid question.”
A brief pause.
Then—
“Uhm, I already got the tickets,” he said quickly. “Didn’t know what ya wanted, so I just picked something that looked decent.”
Sakusa nods once.
“Fine.”
“And I got snacks too, if ya want–”
“I’ll eat.”
“…Okay.”
Another silence.
God.
This is worse than Sakusa imagined.
And yet—
He stays.
They walk inside together, side by side but not quite together, the space between them filled with everything neither of them is saying.
Sakusa can feel it already.
That same feeling from before.
Something off.
Something unresolved.
Something—
“…Annoying.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
—
The credits roll quietly over the screen, white text bleeding into black, and Sakusa doesn’t move.
He’s aware of everything all at once; the dim lights coming back on, the rustle of people standing, the distant murmur of voices, but none of it quite reaches him. It all feels muffled, like he’s underwater.
Beside him, Atsumu shifts.
Sakusa notices. Of course he does.
He’s been noticing everything for the past two hours.
The way Atsumu sat a little too close at the beginning, then not close enough halfway through. The way his arm rested near the shared armrest but never quite crossed the line. The way, every now and then, Sakusa could feel his gaze, fleeting and uncertain, from the corner of his eye.
And the worst part is…
Sakusa had spent the entire movie pretending not to notice.
His fingers tighten slightly around the almost empty popcorn container.
“Movie was good, right?” Atsumu says, voice light, almost casual.
Too casual.
Sakusa hums, noncommittal.
There’s a pause.
Another shift.
Then—
“So, Omi… I kinda wanted to see where this could go.”
Sakusa stills.
There it is.
Of course it is.
For a moment, he considers standing up. Saying something neutral. Letting it end the way these things always do: quietly, vaguely, without ever really saying anything at all.
It would be easier.
It’s always been easy.
But something in him doesn’t move.
Instead, he exhales slowly and sets the empty drink container down in the cup holder. It’s now or never…
“You’re late.”
Atsumu blinks. “Huh?”
“Not today.” Sakusa’s voice is even, controlled. “In general.”
The confusion on Atsumu’s face is immediate, unguarded.
Sakusa watches it settle.
“You didn’t say anything when it mattered,” he continues. “And now you’re acting like this is… something we’re just starting when you well know it isn't.”
Atsumu opens his mouth, then closes it again.
For once, he doesn’t interrupt.
Sakusa swallows, gaze fixed somewhere ahead, at the blank screen.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” he admits, quieter now. “You’re there, then you’re not. You act like you care, and then you disappear, and then you come back like nothing ever happened.”
His fingers curl slightly against his palm.
“It’s confusing for me, Atsumu. You're confusing”
The tension is somehow building up more and more in the environment, but at the same time Sakusa hasn't felt any more lighter.
“I waited,” Sakusa adds, before he can stop himself. “At some point. I think I did.”
Silence.
Not the awkward kind.
The heavy kind.
The kind that demands something in return.
When Sakusa finally glances at him, Atsumu looks… different.
Not defensive.
Not joking.
Just… still.
“I know,” Atsumu says, and his voice is quieter than Sakusa’s ever heard it. “I messed that up.”
Sakusa wasn’t expecting that.
“I didn’t–” Atsumu exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t think ya’d actually… wait.”
There’s something almost embarrassed in the way he says it.
“I thought ya’d get over it. Or me.” A small, self-deprecating huff. “Most people do.”
Sakusa frowns slightly. “That doesn’t make it any better.”
“I know,” Atsumu repeats, quicker this time.
And he doesn’t argue.
Doesn’t deflect.
Doesn’t turn it into a joke.
He just sits there, looking at Sakusa like he’s actually listening.
“I’m not… good at this,” Atsumu admits after a moment. “At… being serious about it, I mean. I screw it up, a lot.”
Sakusa almost scoffs.
“Yeah, I noticed.”
Atsumu lets out a short laugh at that, but it’s softer than usual.
“Yeah. Figured.”
Another pause.
But this one feels different.
Less sharp. Less suffocating.
“I still wanted to try,” Atsumu says eventually. “With you.”
Sakusa studies him, searching for something—hesitation, insincerity, anything that would make this easier to dismiss.
But there’s none.
Just nervousness.
And something that looks dangerously close to sincerity.
“That’s the problem,” Sakusa says. “You only decide to try after it’s already over.”
Atsumu winces.
Fair enough.
Neither of them moves for a few seconds.
Then Atsumu shifts again, not away, not closer. Just… there.
“I can’t fix the timing,” he says. “But I’m here now, and I won’t be going anywhere.”
It’s not a perfect answer.
Sakusa knows that.
A part of him wants to reject it outright. Shut it down, walk away, close this chapter the way he’d already planned to.
But another part—
The one that didn’t stand up earlier.
The one that stayed.
“…I don’t want to go back to whatever this was before,” Sakusa says carefully.
Atsumu nods immediately. “Yeah. Me neither.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
Sakusa hesitates.
Then–
“…I don’t know what this is either.”
Atsumu huffs a quiet laugh. “That makes two of us.”
It’s not reassuring.
But it’s honest.
And somehow, that feels… new.
Sakusa exhales, some of the tension in his shoulders loosening for the first time that night.
“…Let's leave,” he says.
Atsumu glances at him. “Yeah?”
Sakusa stands, brushing imaginary dust off his clothes.
“…Yeah.”
They walk out of the cinema together, slower than necessary, neither of them in a rush to get ahead.
Outside, the night air is cooler. Quieter.
For a moment, they just stand there.
Then Atsumu shifts, hesitates, and his hand brushes lightly against Sakusa’s.
Not grabbing.
Not forcing.
Just… there.
Sakusa notices.
Of course he does.
And this time…
He doesn’t pull away.