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“Sakusa-san, yer spikes are so precise! May I set to ye?” Atsumu asked, eyes basically shimmering. His Kansai drawl was thick with excitement as he practically bounced around Kiyoomi. The spiker looked around at his cousin, Motoya, who was giving him a thumbs up, and the carbon copy of the kid currently bothering him who was glaring at him. Osamu, wasn’t it? Kiyoomi looked back at the boy in front of him, and nodded. “Fine. Just a few,” Kiyoomi gave in. The four of them, Kiyoomi, Atsumu, Osamu and Motoya, first became close when they met at the U-14 camp as kids. They’d gotten really close as they reached middle school— some closer than others. Specifically Kiyoomi and Atsumu. Despite their rough meeting (where Atsumu tried to fight him before the training camp even started), they got along quite well over their awful sense of humor, love for volleyball and their obsession with analyzing people’s playstyles. Osamu knew well before the pair did that they were dating— he could see it in how Kiyoomi cuddled up to Atsumu while they watched volleyball matches and analyzed each player’s moves when he completely refused to stay within 2 feet of the crowd during huddles. I don’t know them. They might be carrying a disease, he’d say, but Osamu knew the truth. Motoya did soon after, when the setter and spiker duo revealed their 5 month relationship to them in a fit of nervousness right before the first day of their second year in middle school. They eventually came out to their parents, who supported them— Osamu and Motoya as well when they’d started dating. When they reached high school, the dynamic had shifted. Kiyoomi and Atsumu had reached past the honeymoon stage— they bickered all the time, slept at each other's houses every other weekend and video called every night. Of course, Osamu and Motoya’s dynamic had shifted as well. Osamu fell in love with another as he entered high school— Rintarou. Suna, Rintarou. He’d felt guilty when he first realized, telling Motoya about it immediately. All Motoya did was say “let me meet him,” and meet him he did. By their second year of highschool, Osamu, Motoya and Rintarou were happily a throuple.
“I want to propose to Atsu.” Rintarou spat out his water. “What? You— Kiyo, you WHAT?!” Motoya shrieked, standing up from his seat. Their table had gotten quite the attention from the cafe— reddening Motoya’s face. He sat down and apologized, before Osamu spoke. “Like, actually propose, or just a promise ring?” Kiyoomi looked him dead in the eye and said, “I want to marry Atsumu.”
The four of them formulated a plan— Kiyoomi would tell his parents that he wanted to propose first. Then he’d ask for the Miya parents’ blessing, then propose to Atsumu during a date. Solid plan, right?
Of course it was. What could go wrong— they’d been dating since middle school? Kiyoomi received the blessings from their parents, bought a gorgeous rose gold ring in Atsumu’s size and a matching one of his own, with their initials imprinted on them— S.K + M.A. The blond accepted tearfully, and the couple announced their engagement at dinner with their families. It was a beautiful moment, really. Nothing in Atsumu’s life could be better— well.. except for one thing.
His teammates.
The Inarizaki volleyball team were amazing friends and players for sure. They just took jokes way too far sometimes. It genuinely chipped at Atsumu’s confidence as Kiyoomi’s fiancé whenever they joked about his relationship.
That brings us to today, in the hotel room that the Inarizaki volleyball team occupied for a week-long training camp with Itachiyama. Atsumu slipped his ring onto his finger after a shower, stroking it tenderly. The glint caught Michinari’s eye. “Tsumu, ‘s that a ring ya got there?” Everyone’s heads turned almost immediately. “S.K + M.A..? Atsumu, don’t ya think yer obsession with Sakusa-san has gotten a bit too far?” Aran sighed. The rest of the team nodded while Osamu and Rintarou looked at them in confusion. Atsumu would be confused too— if he wasn’t so used to this. Shinsuke spoke up, his calm voice grabbing the attention of the entire room. “Tsumu, ye need to respect his boundaries. I’m afraid ye’ll cause a problem for both teams if ya keep pushing Sakusa-san like this.” Everyone began speaking up, and it was starting to get on Atsumu’s nerves. “Atsumu, this is gettin’ real outta hand, even for ye,” Ren sighed as Michinari brushed through his still-wet hair in front of the electric fan. Hitoshi nodded in agreement, “even Tsukasa thinks yer gettin’ a li’l too touchy, Sakusa always looks so embarrassed every time ye talk ta ‘im—“ “Stop it!” Atsumu’s voice cut through all the voices. It was the same voice everyone on the team heard every day, but it was different. More high pitched— more stuffy as if he was on the verge of tears. “Y’all always do this! I know we’re keeping it low-key so we don’t cause distractions during games, but calling me a creep just sucks!” Rintarou stood up to console his best friend who was on the verge of tears while Osamu was about to yell at their teammates before a knock came on the door. Three loud knocks, before Kiyoomi’s voice sounded through the door. It was muffled, barely audible, but it was unmistakably him. “It’s Iizuna, Motoya and Kiyoomi. May we come in?” Shinsuke glanced at Atsumu before replying. “Yes.”
The door swung open, slamming against the wall with a bang as the wind pushed it violently. “My apologies!” Motoya bowed, chuckling as he scratched his neck. The blood in his veins froze as he saw one of his best friends close to tears on the floor. He rushed over to the blond alongside Kiyoomi who immediately grabbed Atsumu. “Tsu, what’s wrong? Why are you crying, what happened?” Tsukasa rushed over to Hitoshi, whispering questions into his ears, but no response came. “Guys, what the hell is wrong with ye lot?! Why would’ja say that— Tsumu’s been dealing with this for months now! Yer jokes are goin’ too far!” Osamu snapped, eyes cold with protective fury for his brother. “What did you do?” Kiyoomi glared at the team, who froze. Motoya began glaring at them as well (or trying to, he can’t intimidate people with his baby face) while Rintarou continued rubbing the setter’s back. Everyone froze, but Shinsuke stepped forward. “Our apologies, Atsumu. We did not mean to upset ya, but we would appreciate it if ye respected Sakusa’s boundaries..” he said quietly, looking slightly unsure. Kiyoomi’s gaze remained icy as his coat practically swallowed his lover up. “Boundaries? When has he ever crossed my boundaries?” Aran finally spoke up, grasping the severity of the situation. “He’s been followin’ ye ‘round ‘nd botherin’ ya when ye clearly want space— he’s even bought fake jewelry for this obsession with ye— I’m really sorry about his behavior. We’ve been try’na get him t’stop but he won’t listen.”
It was then that it hit the Miya Five, as they called themselves, that something was wrong. “Why would you tell him to stop?” Kiyoomi asked, lifting an eyebrow. “He’s my fiancé, it’s really only natural we’d be close.”
. . .
“WHAT?!”
Michinari shrieked, hand tightening in Ren’s hair which made his lover wince. He muttered quiet apologies before looking back to the supposedly engaged couple. Hitoshi’s eyes tracked Kiyoomi’s hands, finding a rose gold band slung over his ring finger, exactly the same as Atsumu’s. “Oh shit. Atsumu I’m so sorry. I had no idea,” Hitoshi apologized. “Wait— y’all genuinely thought I was just some weird stalker?!” Atsumu stood up, seemingly forgetting about the tears. “Well— yes?! Ye follow ‘em around like a lost puppy, yer always talkin’ aboutt’em and you keep mailing those radioactive looking containers to Tokyo!”
Atsumu’s face reddened. “They aren’t radioactive! They’re handmade chocolates, they just melt in the heat,” the setter pouted. “So ye lot weren’t just being assholes..?” Osamu asked, an awkward expression tugging at his face. The guilt for yelling at them was already starting to seep in. Seeing that Atsumu was fine, Motoya and Rintarou went to reassure their lover while Kiyoomi laughed at his lover, who at the moment looked like a living beet. Rintarou sighed, “thank goodness you guys weren’t just doing that to be assholes. Everything would get so messy if you guys were being assholes on purpose.”
Atsumu pouted at his boyfriend. “Omi! They’re stupid! Except for Kita-san,” the blond exclaimed, gesturing wildly at the dumbfounded group on the other side of the room. “Tell them they’re stupid!” Kiyoomi cringed, before looking at his fiancé as if he was the dumbest man alive. “Tsu, you are being monumentally stupid.” “OMI!!” Across the room, Aran had dropped onto the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like his soul had left his body. "Four years..." Aran muttered, clutching his head in his hands. "Four years I’ve been prayin' for this boy's sanity. Four years I’ve been draftin' apology letters to Itachiyama’s coaching staff in my head..."
"Wait, hold on," Hitoshi said, his brain visibly short-circuiting as his eyes darted from Kiyoomi’s rose-gold band to Atsumu’s matching ring. "If ye’ve been datin' since middle school... why the hell were ye always yellin' at each other during joint camps?! Ye looked like ye wanted to bite his throat out every time he missed a set!" "That's just how they communicate," Rintarou drawled, casually leaning his chin on Motoya's shoulder while Osamu wrapped an arm around Motoya's waist from the other side. Rintarou pulled out his phone, lazily scrolling through a media gallery. "Here. I have approximately four hundred videos of Sakusa carrying Atsumu like a sack of potatoes through hotel hallways because Atsumu refused to walk after leg day. We literally thought you guys were ignoring it to be polite."
Shinsuke stepped forward, letting out a long, slow exhale that sounded like a tire deflating. He looked at Atsumu, then at the ring, and finally at Kiyoomi, who was watching him with a cool, unbothered expression. "Atsumu," Shinsuke said, his voice unusually quiet. "I apologize. I should've asked ye directly instead of assumin' the worst of yer character." Atsumu blinked, the wind immediately taken out of his sails. Whenever Shinsuke apologized, it felt like getting struck by lightning. He fidgeted with the silver chain around his neck, looking down at his toes. "It's... 's fine, Kita-san. Ij’s thought y'all actually hated me..."
"We don't hate ye," Aran groaned from the bed, sitting up and rubbing his face. "We just think yer an idiot. And clearly, we're the idiots too."
"Speak for yerselves," Osamu grunted, stepping over to slap the back of Atsumu’s head—not hard, but enough to make the blonde squawk. "I'm surrounded by absolute fools. Tsumu, grab yer bag. Ye’re sleepin' in their room tonight before I lose the rest of my braincells."
"I was already planning on it," Kiyoomi stated, smoothly sliding his hand down to interlock his fingers with Atsumu's. “Motoya, are ya stayin’ here?” Atsumu asked, receiving a nod in response from his future cousin in law (or brother in law). Kiyoomi turned toward the door, pulling a still-pouting, bright-red Atsumu behind him. "Goodnight." “G’night y’all!”
As the door clicked shut behind them, leaving the Inarizaki room in dead silence, Michinari slowly turned to Ren.
"...Do ye think we should get them a toaster for the wedding?"
.
.
.
end