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“Ki-yoo-mi.” Atsumu drawled when Kiyoomi picked up.
“Odd time for you to be calling?” Kiyoomi furrowed his eyebrows, stretching from where he had been sat hunched over at his desk, eyeing the pile of papers beside him, the pen dripping ink onto them and the laptop screen burning into his eyeballs.
“Odd thing ta say ta the love of yer life, no?” Atsumu snarked back and Kiyoomi sighed.
“I’m not… disparaging you, I…”
“I know, Omi.” Atsumu’s voice went softer.
“Is something wrong?”
“Nothin’s wrong, ya worry wart,” Atsumu chuckled. “Open yer door though, it’s hot outside.”
“Open… what…” Kiyoomi stood slowly, pushing his bedroom door open and approaching the front door of his flat like it was a bomb set to go off.
“Yer door, Omi,” Atsumu repeated. “I’ll knock, listen.”
Sure enough, he heard knocks on the door. That sound alone spurred him to moving and he nearly slipped in his haste to get to the door, cursing the socks he’d decided to wear as he fumbled with the lock and swung the door open. Miya Atsumu stood there, dressed in all black with a pale yellow lined MSBY jacket and a cap with a jackal on it resting atop his head. He was a sight for sore eyes, such sore eyes that nearly watered when they landed on him.
“Atsumu.” Kiyoomi rasped.
“Hey, darlin’. C’mere.” Atsumu dropped the bag Kiyoomi hadn’t even noticed he was carrying and opened his arms for Kiyoomi to practically fall into, digging his chin into Atsumu’s shoulder and nosing at the crook of his neck. He sighed, some of the tension built up in his body dissipating now that he could feel and smell Atsumu around him.
“Why’re you here?”
“Do I need a reason ta be?” Atsumu kissed his temple, the only place he could reach in this position.
“No, but… answer the question.” Kiyoomi grumbled.
“Yer so cute, Omi,” Atsumu laughed, pulling away to cup Kiyoomi’s cheeks in his calloused hands, his skin warm against Kiyoomi’s cold cheeks from the A.C. inside. “I’m here fer you.”
“Me.” Kiyoomi repeated, almost deadpan.
“Yes, you… ya overworkin’ menace,” He squeezed Kiyoomi’s cheeks, tugging him closer to plant a kiss on his lips. “Ya’ve been neglectin’ yerself, haven’t ya? An’ don’t give me that whole no time spiel, because I won’t have it.”
“It’s true though, I don’t have time for it. I need to finish everything, and proof-read, and submit and…” Kiyoomi sighed. “And try-outs.”
“Yer last submission is due in two weeks, right?” Atsumu asked.
“Yeah.”
“Here’s what we’ll do, an’ listen ta me before ya start objectin’. It’s not good fer ya, bein’ here alone, eatin’ shitty food especially durin’ a time like this when ya need good food fer yer brain, ya get me? An’ I don’t like the idea of you bein’ here goin’ through all this alone when I can help, so that’s what I’m goin’ ta do. Yer gonna pack yer things, everythin’ ya’ll need for a long-term stay. an’ come with me ta Osaka. Bring yer uni things, yer notes an’ all an’ finish everything at my place, alright?
“Ya’ll eat good, have the place ta yerself all day while I’m trainin’. An’ then when yer done with everythin’, all submitted an’ all, ya try-out. Coach Foster’s already spoken ta me, he wanted ta know when ya’d be free for try-outs before he reached out with dates fer ya. I told him to give ya a month. The Jackals want ya, Kiyoomi.”
“’Tsumu…” Kiyoomi softened. “You don’t have to…”
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Kiyoomi,” Atsumu frowned. “I’m in this fer the long run, alright? Ya can’t scare me away with yer isolatin’ an’ shit. So come back with me, alright?”
“Mhm, okay.” Kiyoomi nodded, sagging against Atsumu, his forehead dropping on the blond’s chest. Atsumu brought a hand up to the back of his neck, massaging some of the tension away and running his fingers through the curls.
“Come on, let’s get ya packed so we can go.”
“Why do you have a bag?” Kiyoomi asked as he pulled away, frowning at the bag by their feet.
“I was prepared ta stay here if ya wouldn’t come back with me.”
“What about training?”
“Foster and Meian-san woulda understood.” Atsumu shrugged, nudging the bag inside with his foot and pushing Kiyoomi back as well with both hands.
“Stay. I’ll pack.” Kiyoomi spoke before he disappeared into his room, leaving the door open. Atsumu wandered into the kitchen, examining the poor contents of Kiyoomi’s fridge and sighing as he tossed away whatever might go bad in the time Kiyoomi would be away. He checked all his cupboards, wrinkling his nose at the pack of instant noodles he found in one of them and shut that door immediately.
“Kiyoomi, there’s instant noodles in here. Are ya fuckin’ insane?”
“Hard times,” Kiyoomi’s voice came from behind him, startling the setter. The second he turned, Kiyoomi surged in to kiss him, deeper than before. He pressed Atsumu back against the counter, swallowing the muffled sound that escaped his lips. When he pulled away, he brushed his thumb over Atsumu’s lips, taking in the surprised expression on his face with satisfaction. “Thank you.”
“Fuckin’ what for?” Atsumu mumbled, dazed.
“Coming.”
“Aw, Omi,” Atsumu drawled, drawing Kiyoomi into a tight hug. “Don’t need ta thank me fer somethin’ as simple as that. I love ya, of course I’ll be there.”
“Not a lot of people would go through that trouble.”
“It’s no trouble,” Atsumu said firmly, pulling away. “Ya hear me? No trouble.”
“I heard you.” Kiyoomi repeated softly, his eyes fond.
“All packed?” Atsumu asked, getting a nod from Kiyoomi. “Alright, come on.”
They both picked up their respective bags, linking hands with their free ones as they walked out of the building and towards the train station. Kiyomi stayed close to Atsumu, a mask covering the bottom half of his face as he stood beside him, waiting while the blond bought their tickets to Osaka. Once he had them in hand, they picked up some food from one of the stores in the station and boarded their train. The trip wasn’t a very long one, and after they ate some food, Kiyoomi pulled his laptop out and continued working on some of his papers while Atsumu reviewed game footage of one of their matches from the international league,
Before long, the train pulled into Osaka and Atsumu stood, stretching his arms above his head and stepping out into the aisle to take their bags down from the overhead storage. Kiyoomi took his own bag and followed him out of the train, stepping onto the platform. This would be his first time in Osaka, considering usually Atsumu was the one who came to Tokyo, despite Kiyoomi offering to come to Osaka many times. He’d visited Hyogo quite often, usually during holidays, but never Osaka.
“Ya alright with walkin’?” Atsumu asked when they got out of the station.
“Of course, who do you think I am?” Kiyoomi scoffed.
“Right, my bad collegiate MVP Sakusa Kiyoomi.” Atsumu scoffed. Kiyoomi rather liked the sound of his name, his full name, coming from Atsumu’s lips. It’d sound better with Atsumu’s surname though, Kiyoomi thought, Miya Kiyoomi… what a dream.
“Don’t you forget it.” Kiyoomi snarked, lacing their fingers together as they started walking. As they moved through unfamiliar streets, Atsumu continued talking, telling him about the area… about Osaka.
“This is the coffee shop I always come ta when I’m headin’ to the train station. It’s got those pastries ya like, ya know… the ones I bring ya sometimes.”
“Oh, oh! This is one of the best Italian places around, which isn’t that impressive considerin’ we don’t have many foreign food places but I’ll take what I can. I’ll take ya here one night, we’ll dress up all fancy an’ get expensive wine. Ta celebrate after yer done with uni.”
“’Samu’s place is outta the way so we can go another time, but it’s just ‘round that bend. Next to a konbini.”
“Gym’s over there, ya see? That big buildin’ and the dorm’re only about five minutes walk. I stayed there two years but… havin’ my own place is preferable. It was nice in the beginnin’, ya know? When I was new and still gettin’ ta know everyone. Bok-kun an’ I moved out at the same time, he got a place close ta mine with Keiji-kun. So now it’s Adriah-kun, Barnes-san, Inu-san and some of the reserve players… the ones without families that is. Meian-san’s got a place with his wife.”
“Here we are. Home sweet home, and there’s the konbini I frequent most of the time.” He pointed at a convenience store in the building just across the street from his own. Atsumu waved at the security guard in the reception and called the lift for them. He lived on the fifth floor and he’d normally take the stairs (“For his vanity thighs!” Inunaki always said) but he could tell Kiyoomi was running on fumes so the lift it was.
“No stairs?” Kiyoomi asked and Atsumu couldn’t even hide his smile.
“I usually do take them, but ya look tired so we’ll leave that fer another day,” Atsumu pressed the button for the fifth floor when they walked into the lift. “Inu-san says they’re fer my vanity thighs.”
“They are very nice thighs.” Kiyoomi murmured.
“Aw, thank ya, Omi. I worked hard on ‘em.” Atsumu beamed, unlocking the door when they got to his flat. He had a welcome mat outside with several onigiri on it.
Kiyoomi followed Atsumu inside, toeing his shoes off and lining them up beside Atsumu’s in the genkan. He was handed a pair of slippers still in the packaging, a black pair with brown weasels all over them, Atsumu’s own were patterned with dark red foxes. He looked around as Atsumu flicked the lights on, silently impressed with what he could see so far. There was a big window opposite the door, and what appeared to be a small balcony attached to it. Kiyoomi could see some plants in the corner but he couldn’t be sure which type they were. To the right was the kitchen, a place he had no doubt Atsumu spent plenty of time in, and to the left of the same room was the sofa and TV. As he ventured further into the flat, he could see a corridor beside the TV, leading to what he assumed would be Atsumu’s bedroom and bathroom. It wasn’t a very large flat, but it was perfect for Atsumu, he thought.
“Want some food?” Atsumu asked, hooking his jacket on one of the hooks by the door. “I can make some if ya want ta shower.”
“Can you read minds or something?” Kiyoomi furrowed his brows.
“No, Kiyoomi, I just know ya very well. Go take a shower,” Atsumu shook his head fondly. “Bathroom’s in the room at the end of the corridor.
So Kiyoomi went.
There was significance in the way he knew his way around Atsumu’s bedroom and bathroom, despite having never visited his flat before. He just knew how Atsumu worked, knew where things would be in his drawers (he stole a hoodie from one of them), and knew how hot he kept his showers. He stepped under the cooler spray, having adjusted it to suit him more and sighed, shoulders dropped as the tension left his body.
He brought his own shampoo and conditioner, knowing Atsumu’s wouldn’t suit his textured hair but the sight of his bottles propped up in the shower beside Atsumu’s brought a smile to his face. When he finished, he got dressed in his own sweatpants and Atsumu’s hoodie, draping a towel around his shoulders so his hair wouldn’t drip onto his clothes and the floor, and left the bathroom.
Upon his return to the living area, he saw Atsumu bopping his head along to some music that played from his speaker while he cooked. He appeared to be stirring something in a pot and frying something else in a pan.
“Good shower?” Atsumu asked when he noticed Kiyoomi. “Yer hair’s still wet.”
“Dry it for me?” Kiyoomi asked.
“Yer spoiled.” Atsumu shook his head, but he didn’t deny Kiyoomi. He merely turned the stove knobs all the way to the lowest they could go, and put his cooking utensils down. After washing his hands, he beckoned Kiyoomi to the sofa, sitting atop it and spreading his legs for Kiyoomi to settle on the floor between them.
“Thank you.” Kiyoomi murmured.
“Yeah, yeah,” Atsumu huffed playfully, pressing a kiss to the top of Kiyoomi’s damp head. “Don’t think I didn’t notice yer wearin’ my hoodie.”
“Our hoodie.”
“Right, my bad.”
Atsumu filled the silence by talking about the last couple of practices they’d had in the Jackals and what new techniques they were trying out for the next season. Kiyoomi was content to lean against his legs, eyes closed and just listen. When his hair was dried, Atsumu gave him a proper kiss and herded him to the kitchen to sit at the island while he bustled around to plate everything up.
“Eat.” Atsumu stated as he handed Kiyoomi a pair of chopsticks, sitting down beside him.
“Thank you for the food.” Kiyoomi muttered under his breath, hands clasped together for a brief second before he dug in. It had really been a while since he ate something proper and home-cooked, having lived on takeout (healthy takeout but takeout nonetheless) and the occassional konbini or instant ramen meal.
“Good?”
“Consider becoming my in-house chef.” Kiyoomi said in response.
“Yeah, right,” Atsumu scoffed. “I love ya, but yer pushin’ it.”
“It’s good, ‘Tsumu.” Kiyoomi nudged his leg with his own.
“Good.” Atsumu refused to let Kiyoomi wash any dishes when he was done, taking them all to the sink and washing them himself before he stacked them on the drying rack.
“I should work on my essays.” Kiyoomi murmured.
“Kiyoomi, it’s dark out,” Atsumu pointed at the window, aghast. “We’re goin’ ta bed an ya can work on them tomorrow.”
“But –”
“No arguments!” Atsumu shook his head. “Go on, go brush yer teeth.”
“You’re unbelievable.” Kiyoomi sighed, but he still went. When they were settled in bed a while after, Kiyoomi having shed the hoodie in favour of a lighter shirt and Atsumu shirtless because he tended to run warm, Kiyoomi laid his head on Atsumu’s chest, comforted by the sound of his heart beating.
“I got practice tomorrow mornin’, but I’ll make ya breakfast before I leave, alright?” Atsumu murmured, kissing his head. “I’ll be back fer lunch, then I got another practice late afternoon.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t overwork yerself.” Atsumu reminded him.
“I’ll try.”