“Ladies, don’t stay out too late,” the team captain tells the girls as they head to the small meet up party the night before opening ceremony. “We still have practice early in the morning, and I expect you all to be wake and ready on the field at six.”
There is a chorus of “yes ma’am” before they all set off into the party. Y/N doesn’t really need to think about her captain’s warning. She knows that she is not going to stay out that late. Large get togethers are definitely not her thing, but this is an obligatory meet up for all the Olympic athletes in Japan as sort of a bonding event. Plus, there is the fact that she is actually at the Olympics and competing in it, and because of that, she wants to soak up as much of this as possible to preserve it in her memories forever.
“Come on! Let’s meet some of the players from the men’s team!” her teammate, Haya, says to her while nudging her in the ribs. They are already close because they play on the same club team during the normal season, and were the only one’s from that team here today.
“Why?” Y/N asks.
“Come on, we all know that soccer is the hottest sport, and I looked at the line-up. I got my eyes set on a certain goalie,” she says with a giggle.
“You’re just biased because you’re a goalie,” Y/N teases her but still follows her to a group of soccer players who are already chatting with some other girls from their team. Haya immediately introduces herself to who Y/N presumes is the hot goalie that she spoke of, not beating around the bus at all and getting straight to the flirting. He seems enthusiastic as well, so she leaves them be and begins to chat with one of her defenders and a forward on the men’s team. And by chat, it mostly means just listening and sipping her drink, quietly. Its not their fault. Her mind is just elsewhere tonight as she recalls the roster she briefly skimmed through of people representing Japan. There was a certain name on there that she couldn’t stop thinking about. Couldn’t stop wondering if it could be him.
Her eyes flit around the room, listlessly as she listens to the conversation in front of her. It’s a pretty mellow party, but its fair because they can’t go all out due to last minute training and practice they all have tomorrow. Her eyes suddenly stop on a particular figure. There’s a man slouching against one of the walls of the venue. His hands are stuffed into his jacket, and a medical mask covers his mouth and nose, his curly dark hair hiding the upper half. Her eyes linger on him for a second, wondering why he’s staying so far away from everyone. Her question is then answered when he turns his head so she can see his face, more specifically when she sees two distinctive moles above his right eye.
It is him. That has to be him.
She politely excuses herself and carefully walks over to him, side stepping a tall man rushing past her exclaiming “hey hey, Hinata! Look what I found!” while brandishing a tray of snacks.
She finally stands before the man leaning against the wall. “Hey, Kiyoomi. It’s been a while,” she says casually, or as casually as she can if it not for the nervous energy buzzing through her.
His gaze snaps to the girl, and his brows crinkle in confusion. “Uh, who are you?”
“You seriously don’t remember me, Kiyoomi?” she replies teasingly, shaking off the hurt at not being recognized.
He stares for a second with a sharp look, but then it softens to surprise. “Y/N?”
“The one and only,” she says with a grin. “I haven’t seen you since middle school. How have you been?”
“Fine,” he says. “You?”
“I’ve been doing well,” she replies. “So, I’m guessing you still play volleyball?”
“Yeah, I went pro after college,” he tells her as she leans next to him against the wall, still keeping her distance. Ever since he was young, he never liked people in his personal space. She was usually an exception, but it’s been about a decade since they’ve seen each other. “You’re here for soccer?”
“Yup, I still can’t believe it,” she sighs, staring up at the high ceiling. “I only dreamed of being here as a kid, and now I’m actually here living it. Congratulations to both of us.”
“Yeah,” he mumbles. Still not much of a talker, she guesses.
“Are your mom and dad doing well?” she asks.
“Yeah, they’ll be coming for my games,” he tells her. “How are yours?”
“They’re hanging in there. They’ll be coming to my games as well for as long as we stay in the tournament,” she says. There’s a small silence between them, but just like when they were kids, it’s not awkward. Y/N lets out a sigh as she glances up at him. “It really has been a while. I mean, look at how tall you’ve gotten. I remember when we used to be the same height. Now what? I’m barely up to your shoulder. Jeez.”
Their gazes meet as his eyes crinkle up into what is presumed as a smile under his mask. “Or you just shrunk,” he teases.
“Have not!” she argues.
The two soon settle into an easy conversation, trying to catch up with each other’s lives. Mostly is was asking how each other were, and how they ended up here. Family was brought up again as well when talking about school.
“Your brother has to have graduated high school by now, right?” he asks.
“He’s in his third year of college now?”
Kiyoomi makes a startled noise in his throat. “Your joking.”
“Nope,” she replies. “He’s gone off to be nurse like Mom.”
“Good for him,” he says. “I’m just surprised. He was still so little last time I saw him.”
“Yeah, its crazy how old he is now,” she sighs. “Middle school felt like such a short time ago.”
They then start to reminisce on their childhoods, from the year they were in the same class to playing sports together in their backyards. They always fought over what to play. Y/N wanted to play soccer and Kiyoomi, volleyball. A small goal was set up in her yard, and a net was in Kiyoomi’s. It usually reverted to a game of rock paper scissors after much argument. After a while of this, their parents set up a schedule where they would have equal time for both.
“They’re finally rebuilding the old playground at the end of the street,” Kiyoomi mentions after a while.
“Took them long enough,” Y/N replies in exasperation. “That place was a dump. Most of the equipment was broken. Remember when I sprained my ankle when one of the steps up to the big green slide broke?”
“Wasn’t that the day I had to carry you home on my back, and you cried the entire way home like a baby?” Kiyoomi teases.
“Hey, my ankle was sprained pretty badly that day!” she argues. “And I didn’t cry the whole time.
“What are ya doing Omi-kun? Already arguing with another athlete?” They both hear a haughty voice say and look over to see a man probably about their age approaching them with a confident grin.
“Who’s this guy?” she asks Kiyoomi.
“That’s my teammate, Miya Atsumu,” he tells her with distain in his voice. “Miya, this is L/N Y/N. She was my neighbor up until middle school and is on the soccer team.”
“Ooh, childhood friends. Sounds spicy,” he says.
“Uh, what?” Something about the aura he gives off is kind of annoying her already, and she can tell that Kiyoomi feels the same way.
“What do you want, Miya?” Kiyoomi asks his teammate.
“I saw that you were actually talking to someone and wanted to see who exactly was brave enough to talk with someone as unapproachable as you,” Atsumu says with a chuckle. “But I guess you’ve always been this way, so she’s used to it.”
“Y/N! There you are!” Y/N looks around for the source of the voice and spots Haya. “We should head back. It’s getting late.”
“Alright. Be there in a minute,” she replies and turns back to Kiyoomi. “Hey, give me your number. We should meet up again especially with our parents when they get here. They’d be happy to see each other again.”
“Okay,” is all Kiyoomi says in response and pulls out his phone. They swap numbers say goodbye.
“Who the hell was that guy?” Haya asks her when they’re on their way back to their room. “He was totally hot, and you got his number?”
“Oh, he and I used to be neighbors growing up until I moved after middle school,” Y/N tells her.
“What’s his name?” Haya asks, sliding the keycard to get into their shared room.
“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” she replies. “And before you ask, he’s on the indoor volleyball team.”
“Okay, volleyball. That’s fine. I consider it the second hottest sport after soccer,” her friend says bluntly as they take off their shoes. “You should go for him.”
“I should what?” Y/N replies, flinching slightly.
“What? He’s hot. You already know him. Your parents already know him, so that saves you the trouble there,” Haya explains. “And, come on. Don’t give me that ‘I only think of him as a brother’ bullshit. Just have a proper look at him.”
“I don’t think of him as a brother. I never did,” she murmurs. “I… I think he was my first love back in middle school.”
“So, who was that girl, Omi-kun?” Atsumu asks Kiyoomi as they reach their own room.
“Please go away,” Kiyoomi says in response.
Atsumu just laughs. “We’re rooming together. I really can’t, even if I wanted to.”
“Hey, just be happy that you weren’t stuck with Bokuto,” Atsumu tells him as he flops down on his bed. “I had to share a hotel room with the guy during an away game. The mess was unbelievable, and he snores. I kinda feel bad for Ushijima, but he seems like the kinda guy who can sleep through anything. Anyway, back to the girl. Y/N was her name? She’s cute. You said you two were neighbors?”
“Yeah, until she moved to Yokohama right after middle school ended,” Kiyoomi says nonchalantly with a shrug.
“So, you two were like best friends?” Atsumu inquires.
“I guess so.”
“Didn’t ever expect you to have any friends who were girls, Omi,” Atsumu tells him. “Hold on. Did little middle school Omi-kun have a crush on her.”
“That’s none of your business, Miya,” Kiyoomi snaps. “I’m taking a shower first.”
Atsumu lets out a short barking laugh. “So, I was right! Omi-kun that’s too cute! You should ask her out. Sports media would eat that up. An Olympic volleyball and soccer player couple who were childhood best friends. That could be a snappy rom com.”
“Do you ever shut up?” Kiyoomi sighs is exasperation. “And for the record, I did not confirm that I had a so called “crush” on her.”
“So, you wouldn’t mind if I asked her out?” Atsumu says with a conspiratorial grin. “She is pretty cute. I bet she’d be amazing in bed. Soccer players are known for their stamina-“
“Shut your god damn mouth, Miya,” Kiyoomi growls, a sudden seriousness voice. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that.”
Atsumu holds his hands up in surrender. “Calm down, Omi. I’m just joking around,” he says breezily. “I won’t ask her out, okay?”
Kiyoomi sighs again and is about to head into the bathroom when Atsumu speaks up again.
“But, you’d better act quick before someone else does.”
The girl’s first games within their groups stage were all wins, even pulling off a last-minute upset against Sweden to win the whole group. The men’s volleyball team also snatched wins from France, South Africa, and Argentina being the latest win. That night Y/N, Kiyoomi and both of their parents, who had arrived to watch their games, went out to dinner together.
“Just look at how tall and handsome you’ve gotten, Kiyoomi,” Y/N’s mother gushes when she first sees him. “I remember the days when the two of you were running around the backyard pretending to be God knows what.”
Y/N gets the same treatment from the Sakusa’s. “You’ve really become such a beautiful young lady, Y/N. You were always such a tomboy as a kid,” Kiyoomi’s mother tells her.
“Well, I still am a bit of a tomboy, but that happens when you play sports, I guess,” Y/N replies, not really knowing how to react to that statement.
Dinner was interesting to say the least. It mostly consisted of the parents bring up embarrassing stories from Y/N and Kiyoomi’s childhood and learning about what everyone is up to now.
“Remember that Halloween when they dressed up as Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask?” Y/N’s mother brings up. “That was my favorite year.”
“She forced me to be Tuxedo Mask,” Kiyoomi complains. “I wanted to be Goku that year.”
“I did not!” Y/N defends. “You suggested the idea.”
“Why would I have ever suggested that?”
Needless to say, dinner was chaotic.
“Go out with me tonight.”
“Huh?” Y/N almost falls off her bed when Kiyoomi tells her that. “Wha-!”
“My team wants to go out tonight, and they said that if I don’t have plans, they’re dragging me along,” he says.
“Oh…” Y/N can’t help but feel disappointment settle in her stomach. “Uh, s-sure. We can’t be out late though. I have an earlier practice.”
Haya glances up from her phone at that, raising her eyebrows.
“That’s fine. I wasn’t planning on being out late anyway,” he replies. “Is six okay?”
“Y-yeah, six is fine.”
They hang up, and Y/N is immediately bombarded with questions.
“Was that Sakusa? Did he ask you on a date? Where are you going? What are you planning on wearing?”
“It’s not a date,” she replies, bluntly. “He just wants to get out of going out with his team.”
“Well, I’m going to help you make him wish it was a date,” Haya says with a huff, marching over and starting to rummage through Y/N’s drawers. “You got any non-sport clothes in here?”
By six, Y/N was dolled up in an outfit was both cute but not over doing it, and she is now stood outside Kiyoomi’s room. She knocks, and the door opens to see a familiar smirking blonde.
“Y/N-chan, how lovely to see you again,” he tells her.
“Uh, this is Kiyoomi’s room, right?” she asks, glancing around. I swear this was the room number he gave me.
“Yup. Me and him are roomies for the games,” Atsumu chuckles. “It’s been a blast.”
“Where is he?”
“Still in the bathroom,” he tells her. “He’s been a mess since he called you. Pulling out different shirts to try on. Meticulously folding them and then refolding them. Lots of stress cleaning.”
“Is he okay?” she asks.
“Yeah yeah,” Atsumu says with a wave. “He’s just been worried about your not-a-date-but-also-kind-of-a-date thing.”
“Our what?” Y/N involuntarily flushes.
“Miya, if you don’t stop spewing garbage from your mouth, I’ll make sure the crowd is extra loud during your serves in our next game.” They both turn to see Kiyoomi emerge from the bathroom.
Y/N can’t help but check him out. The Kiyoomi she knew from middle school wore jackets and track pants all the time. Now he is here in black jeans and a leather jacket, and it is doing things to her heart. Her first thought is Wow I gotta get him in my bed. She then flushes again at that lewd thought, internally slapping herself to get a grip and tone down the horniness. She then glances up at Kiyoomi’s eyes and sees a heat in there that makes her revisit that last thought.
“Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I gotta meet Shouyo, Tobio-kun and Bo-kun before they get arrested for doing something stupid,” Atsumu says, interrupting their oddly sensual staring contest. “I’ll see you guys later. Be safe!”
Y/N thinks over Atsumu’s last comment as he closes the door behind him, figuring that he meant that in a more sexual way instead of the general “be safe when walking around the city” type of way.
The two childhood friends stand in a now awkward silence until Kiyoomi clears his throat. “So… we should get going.”
“Oh- uh yeah,” Y/N replies quickly. “Where did you have in mind?”
“I didn’t really have anything in mind,” he tells her, honestly. It was a last-minute plan anyway.
“We could just walk around until we find something,” she suggests.
“Sure.” And with that, they start off into the bustling streets of the city. They make small talk as they walk, pointing out things that peak their interests, but the tension between the two is heavy, the idea of a “date” looming over their heads. They both don’t know exactly what to make of the idea, and neither wants to comment about it. The last time they saw each other was years ago in middle school. Both fourteen-year-olds experiencing a newfound idea of love for their childhood friend right before they were separated. Now they’re reunited having grown older and matured, realizing what they felt back in middle school. They’ve missed so much of each other’s recent lives, and that makes them both confused. A mixture of nostalgia and comfort of something familiar, but also nervousness of the aspect of that something being different from what they remember. The feeling of attraction throws another wrench into the mess that is their emotions, as well as not knowing if the other feels the same way.
Kiyoomi is deep in thought about this idea when his shoulder gets bumped. The street has gotten more crowded, and he doesn’t like the situation one bit. Y/N is focused on a band of street performers to notice his uncomfort until she glances over at him. Most of his face is obscured by his mask, but Y/N can tell by the tell-tale crinkle of his brows that he’s uncomfortable. She realizes exactly why when his shoulder gets bumped again. Without thinking she grabs his hand and pulls him along until they reach a quieter street.
She finally realizes what she’s done and drops his hand. Rummaging through her purse, she pulls out a small packet of wet wipes that she always keeps handy and holds them out to him. Kiyoomi is not necessarily a germaphobe. Since he was a little kid, he was always prone to getting sick easily. One time catching a cold made him miss a volleyball game, and since then, he started to actively avoid contact with people and potentially contaminated surfaces to avoid the risk of getting sick. That means being in crowded areas, using items previously touched by other people, and touching in general like handshakes, high-fives, and of course, hand holding.
“You still carry wet wipes around?” he asks her when he sees what she’s holding.
“Never broke the habit,” she replies with a shrug. “They’re actually pretty useful. Take some if you want.”
“I don’t need them,” he tells her. “I know you’re not sick.”
“Oh okay,” she says awkwardly, putting them back into her purse.
“But thank you for the thought,” he adds. “I didn’t think you’d remember.”
“Why wouldn’t I remember?” she asks. “We were best friends for years.”
“Were,” he thinks to himself, kind of hurt at her phrasing, but also understanding where she is coming from. They haven’t seen each other in years. They couldn’t still consider themselves best friends. Right now, although still family, Komori is his best friend. He’s known him since they were young as well, and they still keep in touch. Him and Y/N didn’t keep in touch when she left. They never had the need to really call of text each other when they were neighbors. They were always so close it was easy as walking next door or heading over to the next classroom. When they actually had distance between them, they didn’t know how to deal, how to communicate or keep in touch. It’s a large regret that has loomed over both of them for years. If they stayed in touch, would they have stayed friends? Best friends? Would have something more happened between them? Neither of them could answer those questions now that years have passed without speaking. So, what will happen now?
“How about we find some place to eat?” Y/N suggests, snapping Kiyoomi from his thoughts.
He just nods, and they set out again. As they walk, he glances down at her swinging hand. His fingers still tingle with warmth where she held his hand previously, and he longs for that warmth again. Never has Kiyoomi ever wanted to touch or be touched by someone this badly. He’s actively avoided it for years even selecting a non-contact sport so he can still keep his distance. But now walking beside Y/N on this street, just like the many times he walked home from school with her during their middle school years, he yearns for her touch, her small hand in his.
Their “not-a-date-but-also-a-date” continued without a hitch as they found a quiet place to eat and walked around the city afterwards. Soon, to both of their silent disappointment, the time was getting late, and they needed to head back to the Olympic village.
“Its been great seeing you again, Kiyoomi,” Y/N tells him when they stop at her door.
“Yeah,” he says in a low murmur.
“I want to kiss them,” they both think.
Kiyoomi reaches up to pull down his mask when she turns away. “Well, I’ll see you later,” she says, making his hand stop and drop to his side again
He looks away from her as well, embarrassed that he would even think that he could kiss her. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “I’ll see you.”
When the two parted, they were both equally barraged with questions as soon as their roommates saw them. For Y/N it was as soon as she closed the door behind her, and Kiyoomi was harassed by Atsumu when the latter got back from clubbing with the rest of the volleyball team. Y/N awkwardly answered Haya’s questions while Kiyoomi just ignored his roommate by putting his headphones on as he meticulously cleans their small kitchenette.
The days pass, and games are won and finally lost when the women’s soccer team was beat by the United States with a 5-3 final score in the quarter finals. Y/N was upset, understandably, but the US is known for having one of the top women’s soccer teams and went on to win gold, so it didn’t hurt as much to be beat by the best team that year. Kiyoomi, and the men’s indoor volleyball team ended up earning a silver medal, losing to Brazil in the final.
It’s now the final night of the games, and the final banquet for all the athletes. Winners proudly wear their medals and chat enthusiastically with each other, the stress of competition off their shoulders. Now they can let loose, drink and party to their heart’s content, knowing that they’ve earned it. Haya has gone off with the men’s goalie, so Y/N chats with a few track and field members while sipping on a mixed drink. She knows she’s tipsy at the least, and her and the other three girls are giggling at everything said between them.
She jumps when she feels someone tap her shoulder and turns to see Kiyoomi looking down at her. He wears black jeans again with a casual button down, and his silver medal is around his neck and, of course, a mask covers his nose and mouth.
“Hey, Kiyoomi!” she says, excitedly. “I was wondering when I’d get to see you.”
His eyes narrow at her oddly slurred words. “Are you drunk?”
“Nah, I’m just a bit tipsy,” she tells him, with a casual wave.
“How many drinks have you had?” he asks her, ignoring the way the other three drunk girls are staring at him.
“Uh, three or four… maybe five drinks?” she says with a giggle.
He just sighs. “Come on, I’ll take you back to your room,” he says, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“But I wanna stay,” She pouts. “I just got here.”
“Y/N, the party has been going on for three hours already.”
“No, it hasn’t!”
Kiyoomi just sighs in exasperation again. “Just come on. You don’t want to be hung over tomorrow.” She pouts again but lets him lead her out of the event room and outside. They are the only ones in the area that he can see, so he tugs his mask down to underneath his chin.
She looks up at him and smiles. “I know why you wear the mask all the time, but it’s really a shame.”
“Why is that?” he asks her as the walk down the sidewalk. The night air is a bit brisk, and he worries for her in her short-sleeved dress.
“Because your face is so pretty,” she tells him, candidly. “And I rarely get to see it.”
Kiyoomi feels his face heat up, and quickly looks away from her.
“Is your roommate here?” he asks her when they arrive at her room.
“Nah, she’s probably finally hooking up with the guy she’s been talking to during the games,” she tells him as she flops down on her bed.
Kiyoomi looks around her kitchenette. Its surprisingly neat but definitely not to his standards. He sees fingerprints on the microwave and some crumbs on the counter but ignores them, instead looking for a cup. He finds a clean one and fills it with water, handing it to her as she sits up.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asks sitting next to her as she takes a drink.
“Yeah, I think I’m fine now,” she says, “The walk and cool air sobered me up a lot.”
She sips her water quietly as they both sit next to each other on her bed.
“Thank you for bringing me back here,” she tells him after a while. “I drank too much, and something bad could have happened if I was with the wrong people.”
“It’s no problem,” he says. “I’m your friend, so of course I’m going to help you.”
“Friend…” she echoes quietly as she places the cup down on her nightstand.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
She suddenly feels a boost of confidence. It may be from the last remanence of alcohol in her system or the soft way he is looking at her, but she is able to say, “what if I want to be more than friends?”
She feels him stiffen next to her. “What do you mean by that?” he asks.
She fiddles with her hands nervously as she looks away from him. “I think you know what I mean, Kiyoomi.”
Its quietly between the both of them. Y/N can’t stand the silence. Her knuckles are white as she balls them up into fists, and she squeezes her eyes shut, begging for him to say something.
Kiyoomi sits there frozen in shock, still not believing what he just heard her say, his mind reeling as he tries to compute the fact that Y/N just confessed to him. His Y/N. The Y/N he’s known all his life. His first love. He finally looks at her to see her face turned away.
He wants to touch her again.
He sees her hands in her lap, fidgeting slightly. Hesitating at first, he slowly reaches out and places one of his large hands on hers. She jumps slightly and turns to look at him when he slowly coaxes open her hand to intertwine them. Her hands are soft and warm, just like he remembered, and his face is much closer now that she can’t help but admire it even now.
“I…” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat. “I want to be more than friends too.” He can see her take a sharp breath and bite her bottom lip. Kiyoomi has the sudden thought that he wants to bite her bottom lip too.
He wants to kiss her so badly.
She then releases the air in her lungs in a soft, relieved laugh, looking away. Fed up with her dodges, Kiyoomi reaches up and cups her cheek, making her look at him again. Her cheeks are flushed, and her lips are parted when he finally kisses her. He takes his time, memorizing the way her mouth feels against his. She hasn’t brushed her teeth since she last ate, but right now in this moment, for the first time, he doesn’t care about germs or cleanliness. All he can focus on is Y/N’s soft lips moving against his, the feeling of her small hands sliding up his chest, gripping the collar of his shirt. The feel of her is like a drug to him, and he greedily wants more. His tongue teases its way into her mouth, and she readily lets him in, letting out a soft sigh. She falls back onto the bed, pulling him on top of her, their tongues twining together as one of her hands finds his way into his soft, curly hair. His silver medal still around his neck bumps her chest as he leans over her.
She giggles lightly, pulling away from him. “You just gotta keep reminding me that you ranked better than me, don’t you?” she jokes, fiddling with the medal.
He grins at her. “I have to show that I’m better than you somehow.”
“Okay, Mr. Olympic medalist, but right now your award is in my way,” she tells him, helping him tug it over his head and drop it on her nightstand. She then pulls him down to kiss him again. This time its much more rushed. Much more needy. Since they first saw each other during that first get together, the tension between them started building, and during the past weeks, it just kept getting higher. Now that everything is in the open, there is nothing holding them back from giving into their desires. His hands slide over her waist, slowly inching her dress up her legs. At the same time, her hands move to unbutton his shirt and tugging it off his broad shoulders.
“This is… surreal,” she says, softly as Kiyoomi begins to leave a trail of kisses across her jaw.
“How so?” he asks in a murmur against her neck.
“Well, you’re here and we’re doing this,” she tells him. “A few weeks ago, before I saw you again, you were a childhood friend who I hadn’t spoken to in years. I didn’t know where you were or what you were up to. You were just the boy I had a crush on in middle school but never saw again.”
Kiyoomi halts his movements and pulls back to look at her. “You liked me in middle school?”
“Yeah,” she says, a blush dusting her cheeks again. “I was too scared to do anything about it though, and then I had to leave so I never could.”
Kiyoomi groans and rolls to the side so they are laying next to each other on her bed. “Are you telling me that we both liked each other in middle school and really didn’t do anything about it until now?”
“Wait are you saying-”
“Yes, I liked you in middle school too,” he confirms. He tilts his head to the side to look at her and a light smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “We really were idiots as kids, weren’t we?”
Y/N laughs. “You could say that again.” She rolls over on her side to face him. “But, I don’t know. I wouldn’t change it.”
“Well, if we knew in middle school and maybe tried to date or something, it might have changed how we met again now,” she tells him. “Now that you’re here, and we’re like this, I wouldn’t want to change anything cause, you know… we’re here now. I don’t know, I’m just rambling now.”
Kiyoomi just hums in response. Now that he thinks about it, he wouldn’t want to change anything either, because all of their life choices led them to meeting again and finally being together like this. He wonders if that’s what fate is really like until Y/N speaks up again.
“Hey, Kiyoomi?” she asks, making him hum in response again. “Have you ever had sex?”
He glances over at her, wondering what she’s getting at. “Uh, yeah. Why?”
“I don’t know, you don’t seem like the type to sleep around or really date that much,” she says. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just…”
“I am a normal person, you know. I may be deemed quirky or odd, but I’m not a hermit who stays by himself all the time,” he says, laughing.
“Yeah I know,” she mumbles. “It’s just… I’m wondering if I’d be, well, better than those girls in the past.”
Kiyoomi’s eyebrows raise as he realizes what she’s been trying to get at. A small smirk then forms on his lips. He leans over her as she looks up at him. “Why don’t you just prove that you’re better?” he challanges.
Her eyes search his, confirming what he means. A grin then appears on her face. “I just might have to then.” With that she leans up and kisses him again. Her hands pull on the front of his white undershirt, and her legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer to her, her dress riding up past her hips. Their crotches press against each other that makes a slight tingle go through Y/N. She can feel that Kiyoomi is already starting to get hard, and that eggs her on. She takes this chance to pull his shirt over his head, their lips parting for a moment only to meet again after his shirt is discarded on the chair next to her bed. Her hands slide over his stomach and chest, feeling the smooth skin and hard, lean muscle that only a professional athlete could have. She feels too hot. The feel of Kiyoomi pressed against her in this way makes her feel too hot and constricted in her tight dress, and she wants it off. It seems that Kiyoomi wants her dress off as well when she feels him fiddling with its zipper. He is finally able to unzip it and pulls it down and off of her, adding it to the ever-growing pile of clothes on the chair. Kiyoomi then can’t help but stare down at Y/N in admiration.
“What? What’s wrong?” she asks him.
“Nothing,” he murmurs. “You’re just really beautiful, you know that?”
Her eyes widen, a bright red blush staining her already flushed cheeks. “Jeez, Kiyoomi,” she mumbles, covering her face with her hands. “Why do you always have to catch me off guard like that?”
He can’t help but smile at her flustered state. He’s never really been the type to get starry eyed over someone, but ever since they were kids, there was always this glow about her that had him mesmerized. Her presence always made things seem brighter, and she would always give off a feeling that made him feel comfortable and relaxed.
A warm feeling swells in Kiyoomi’s chest as he leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead. He then reaches out a hand to lightly pull away her hands from her face and kisses her lips again. His lips ghost over hers in such a feather light way that it can’t help but make her sigh out. She reaches up and threads her fingers in his dark locks again, deepening the kiss. Soon tender kisses become rough and needy with each one that passes. Kiyoomi’s hands roam everywhere from her face to her covered breasts to cupping her ass and kneading it slightly, making her let out a startled squeak.
Soon, the rest of their clothes are discarded on the chair after much teasing, and Y/N finally sees all of him. Her eyes widen as she zeros in on a certain area.
“Hey, are you doing okay?” Kiyoomi asks her, noticing her expression. “We can stop if you want.”
“No no no, its fine,” she tells him in a rush. She turns her head, her face heating up again. “You’re just… bigger than what I’m used to.”
Kiyoomi’s confidence soars at her admission, and he grins smugly. His lips ghost over her as he mumbles, “I don’t see a problem with that.”
“Me neither,” she says, pulling him in for another deep kiss. While their tongues invade each other’s mouths, Y/N feels a hand slowly creeping up her inner thigh, lightly massaging her thigh as it moves. He then teases her slit with a finger, making her slightly buck her hips searching for more contact. “Kiyoomi, stop teasing me,” she whines.
“Fine,” he says, bluntly. A mischievous glint forms in his eyes as he presses his thumb directly on her clit, eliciting a sharp gasp from the girl beneath him. He then, pushes an experimental finger into her entrance. It slides in smoothly, her arousal making it easy to slip a second one in, pumping them in and out of her. Y/N lets out a soft moan at all the attention she’s getting. His fingers are so much longer than her own and go so much more deliciously deeper. They massage the insides of her walls, twisting and curling, making her grasp at the sheets next to her. His fingers make scissoring motions, stretching her out to prepare her, and his thumb still occasional swipes against her clit, drawing little desperate sounds from her that Kiyoomi could listen to forever.
After a while of this teasing, she then starts to feel that tell-tale knot in her stomach, she halts his movements. “Kiyoomi, I want you,” she says, and immediately gets embarrassed at just how needy she sounds out loud.
Kiyoomi, on the other hand, loves it. Her desperate plea sends a wave of pleasure through him, making his cock ache so much more. He wants to tease her more to hear more of her desperate moans. To rile her up so much that she’s begging for him to take her, but he knows that he’s just as desperate. He’ll just have to leave that for another time when he has more patience and more control over himself.
He sits back on his heels and grasps her thighs, pulling her towards him.
“Wait,” she stops him. “I am on the pill, but do you have a condom? I don’t wanna make a big mess.”
Kiyoomi internally slaps himself. He was so focused on her that he completely forgot to ask about something like that. How stupid could he be? He was literally about to go in raw without even asking her if she was on any type of contraceptive. They’re both national athletes in the height of their careers. They couldn’t have a kid.
“Y-yeah,” he says in a daze, leaning over to their pile of clothes, pulling his wallet out of his jeans pocket. “Miya threw one at me earlier, telling me to be safe.”
Y/N laughs. “Remind me to thank him later,” she says.
“Please don’t,” he replies as he rolls the condom on.
He then grabs her thigh again and finally guides himself into her. They both let out simultaneous gasps as he pushes himself in all the way. Y/N because the feeling of him finally filling her completely up was amazing, and Kiyoomi because the feel of her wrapped so tightly around him made him almost cum instantly. He squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on his breathing. After a few seconds, he gives a few shallow thrusts, Y/N letting out a few pleased sighs in response. Her quiet moans encourage him to continue, and he picks up the pace, making his thrusts deeper.
“Oh fuck, Kiyoomi,” Y/N moans out.
Her moans fuel his ego, and he steadily rocks his hips, thrusting in and out of her at a satisfying pace. Kiyoomi’s hair starts to stick to his forehead with sweat as he continues his pace, drawing sweet moans from her as she pulls him in for an open-mouthed kiss. His hands travel over her body, smoothing over the curves of her waist for a bit then sliding up to tease her breasts, flicking her nipples with his fingertips.
All the stimulation is starting to get to her. She pants heavily, feeling that familiar knot building again. It isn’t until he pushes her thighs up, making a new angle that allows him to press deeper into her that she cries out. Now that he’s found that certain spot, he lets loose, pounding into her at a harsher pace. His name leaves her lips as a plea until she feels herself cumming. She squeezes her eyes shut; her mouth open in a silent moan as he works her through her orgasm. As Kiyoomi feels her walls squeezing him tighter than before, he cums soon after, groaning out a low moan, before coming to a halt. They both gasp for breath, basking in the afterglow of their orgasms.
“We really just did that,” Y/N says after a bit.
“Do you regret it?” Kiyoomi asks her.
She tilts her head to look at him. “Not one bit,” she tells him with a lazy smile.
It’s silent between them as they lay there together until Kiyoomi gets up and takes off the condom, wrinkling his nose while throwing it away.
“Why are you so disgusted? It came from you,” Y/N says, giggling.
“Yeah it did, but would you say the same thing if it was urine?” he replies with an eyeroll.
“Fair enough,” she states.
“Come on. Get up,” he says.
“Why? I’m tired,” she complains.
“We’re all gross,” he tells her, dragging her out of bed. “I won’t be able to sleep if you’re all sweaty. We need to shower.”
“Together?” she asks. She doesn’t know why she’s so flustered at the idea of showering with him when they literally just had sex. It feels more… intimate. People sleep with strangers all the time. Showering together was meant for lovers. Thinking about it like that makes her a bit giddy as Kiyoomi fiddles with the shower, getting the water a good temperature. Soon they are both standing under the spray of the hot water. Soft kisses are shared as they get clean, soon enough, they are back in bed together, Kiyoomi holding her close in his arms.
“After we’re completely done with the games, and all the interviews and celebrations afterwards, how does dinner sound?” Kiyoomi asks her.
“Uh, you mean like a date?” she asks.
“What else would I mean?” he huffs.
“Dinner sounds nice,” she says, giving him a warm smile.
Kiyoomi can’t help but smile back, the warm feeling in his chest back again. “Good,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “By the way, you were much better… than the other girls I mean. By a landslide. There was no competition.”
She laughs. “Good to know I’m the best,” she jokes.
Kiyoomi doesn’t speak but a single thought surfaces in his mind
To me, you always were.