Sakusa Kiyoomi is not, despite what some of his teammates might say, emotionally constipated. He’s private ; he doesn’t need everyone knowing his business all of the time, regardless of how nosey any of them might be. He’s well aware of his emotional state, recognizes emotions beyond just irritation no matter what Atsumu tries to tell him. In fact, he’s self-aware enough to understand exactly why Atsumu’s relentless teasing and prodding gets to him.
He knows why being called Omi-kun brings a flush to his face, knows it isn’t anger and that irritation can only account for a minor piece of it. He knows why he tenses every time Atsumu touches him, just this side of too friendly, knows that it originated in discomfort but has eased into something else entirely. Being aware of his emotions however, does not make them any less embarrassing.
He supposes that Miya Atsumu isn’t actually the worst person to have a crush on—though he loathes to admit it, feeling juvenile every time he thinks about it. In fact, the general perception of what it would mean to crush on Miya Atsumu is probably worse than the truth of it. He’s a lot, overwhelming in all the ways that would exhaust Kiyoomi if he didn’t know better. He knows just as well as anyone how often Atsumu pushes just a bit too far, how he needles at you until he gets what he wants, how he talks and talks and talks . But he’s also careful , has always been respectful of his boundaries, is always mindful of his quirks. How he always puts himself between Kiyoomi and crowds they face, helps him save face when he refuses fan gifts, always makes a point of maintaining a certain hygiene and cleanliness in the communal areas that he knows isn’t purely for Kiyoomi’s benefit, but the thought is there.
It’s easy enough for them to pair up most of the time anyway; they know each other better than they do a majority of the MSBY Black Jackals, and Hinata and Bokuto will pair up together easily enough. Whether for partnered stretches, or sharing rooms, it’s fairly common sense that they’d end up stuck with each other more often than not, and it doesn’t slip Kiyoomi’s attention that it takes a load off his other teammates. He knows he’s particular, knows his quirks and specifications can be irritating to those around him, but Atsumu has never seemed to mind too much and he appreciates that.
They’re friends, and he doesn’t actually have any problem admitting that despite what Atsumu thinks sometimes. It’s just how they are , constantly bickering, and sometimes Atsumu teases Kiyoomi too much and it’s all he can do to tease back, to feel the satisfaction of watching Atsumu blush, his grin slipping from his lips. Lips Kiyoomi has thought about kissing too frequently these days.
Bokuto is overwhelming though, in a different way than Atsumu is. It isn’t that he entirely minds, his teammates are loud and affectionate and he can appreciate it so long as he’s not too close to the center of it all. The problem is that Bokuto doesn’t seem to realize, is less aware of the lines and walls Kiyoomi has created, barreling past them with a shout of Omi-Omi! and crashing into his back in a hug. He tenses immediately, and Bokuto is quickly shooed off of him. He doesn’t seem to mind though, already bounding over to greet Hinata as he walks up to them. The plan was for them to get dinner together, the four Monster Generation MSBY players, and it isn’t that Kiyoomi regrets agreeing, it’s just that he wishes they had come up with a plan he could escape from easier.
He’s reminded of his lack of escape plan when, before the warmth Bokuto left on his back has even fully left him, a warm arm slips it’s way around his shoulder. Kiyoomi tenses again, but this time merely to sigh as Atsumu greets the others, sending him a wink as he pulls them forward.
“You never let me touch you as long as you let Atsumu, Omi-Omi,” Bokuto pouts, and Hinata at his side pipes up agreeing with him, quick to say it’s okay though and Kiyoomi scoffs.
Before he can even think to respond, Atsumu pipes up, tightening the arm around his shoulder as he speaks up, loud as always, always the one to get the last word, “It’s because I’m Omi’s favourite. Right Omi?”
Atsumu grins at him, pulling him down quickly to press a kiss to the top of Kiyoomi’s head before he can stop him. Kiyoomi tenses, but Atsumu’s pulling away before he can do anything else, probably aiming to get out of range for him to punch. He doesn’t even try though, pretends the flush on his cheeks is purely from the cold as he rolls his eyes. “Where’s the restaurant we’re going to?”
The mention of food is enough to get Hinata bouncing, leading them towards the restaurant as he chatters on about something Kiyoomi isn’t paying attention to. He doesn’t feel too bad about it though, knows that Bokuto is paying avid attention, that Hinata doesn’t mind his lack of input most of the time. He does however, pay attention to how Atsumu migrates back to his side as they walk, how he eyes him suspiciously as if he thinks Kiyoomi can’t see him. “Need something, Miya?”
“‘M waitin’ for the other shoe to drop, is all,” He answers, turning away from Kiyoomi but still side eyeing him.
His laugh is soft, nearly completely muffled by the mask covering his face as they walk. “Over what? It’s not like you were wrong,” he teases lightly.
He catches Atsumu freeze from the corner of his eye, takes a few more steps until he stops and turns to face Atsumu, now standing a few feet behind him. His face is flushed dark red, mouth hanging open slightly as he stares for a few moments. Kiyoomi raises an eyebrow at him, can’t fight the smug grin underneath his mask. “Wh-that’s not fair, Omi!” Kiyoomi laughs louder this time, enough that Bokuto and Hinata glance back at them and wave for them to hurry up. Atsumu stomps after them, passing Kiyoomi by in his embarrassed rush, and all he can think is how absolutely endearing Miya Atsumu is.
When they reach the restaurant, Atsumu lets him slide into the booth before him, allowing Kiyoomi to comfortably lean against the wall instead of risking random passersby getting too close for comfort. It’s a nice dinner, truly, and he does enjoy himself. He likes his teammates, has fun even without adding too much to the conversations. He’s happy to listen, join in when he has something to say, but the others are happy to allow him the small comforts without expecting more than he can give. They drink, not too much since they have practice in the morning, but the warmth of the sake feels good, just not as good as Atsumu’s thigh pressed against his. He lets the others think it’s the drink that brings the warmth to his face, not how Atsumu’s laugh rings beautifully in his ear next to him, or how he throws his arm over the back of the booth, not quite touching Kiyoomi, but if he were to lean further back it would. He takes comfort in knowing that if he did, Atsumu would move if he asked.
When Hinata gets up to pee, Bokuto gets up to follow him, as if Hinata’s exclamation reminded him that he needs to use the restroom too, leaving Kiyoomi and Atsumu alone in the booth for a few minutes. Kiyoomi delights in how Atsumu doesn’t bother moving his arm.
“Sorry if we’re being loud,” he says, and while he doesn’t sound too apologetic, Kiyoomi knows he means it too.
“I never said that,”
Atsumu shrugs, taking a sip of his drink, “I know, but you’ve been quiet so I figured I’d say somethin’.”
Kiyoomi hums, leaning back and slightly towards Atsumu, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking when Atsumu freezes halfway from pulling his glass back, not even daring to look at Kiyoomi. “I’m just enjoying the company.”
Kiyoomi pulls back, leaning against the wall as Bokuto and Hinata come back, their loud approach giving Atsumu ample time to pull his flustered self together as he clears his throat, looks anywhere but at Kiyoomi.
The rest of the meal goes by in peace, Atsumu relaxes slightly, but Kiyoomi catches him glancing at him every so often. When they leave, Hinata and Bokuto take off together in the direction of the train station, the train station Kiyoomi knows Atsumu will also need to head in, but he hangs back for a bit, waving the other two off. “Would you like a ride, Miya?”
Atsumu freezes for a moment, turning to Kiyoomi, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Depends. You offerin’ for real, or just to be polite?”
Kiyoomi snorts, gestures for Atsumu to follow him in the direction of his car. They walk in relative silence, not uncomfortable, but it’s clear to Kiyoomi that Atsumu has something to say, so he waits patiently for him to say it.
They’re nearly at his car when Atsumu sighs, clears his throat to hide how it shakes at the end. “You’ve been acting weird all night, Omi-kun.”
Kiyoomi hums, walking over to his car before turning to face Atsumu properly. “How so?”
Atsumu narrows his eyes, points an accusing finger at him. “You know what I’m talkin’ about. If you’re just tipsy you should let me drive anyway.” When Kiyoomi rolls his eyes Atsumu jabs the finger into his chest, not hard enough to hurt, but the pressure is still there. “I’m serious Omi, it’s only funny to a point.”
“First of all, I’m far from buzzed , let alone tipsy. Second of all, I think jokes are more your department than mine, Miya.” Kiyoomi grins, suppressing a laugh at the suspicious look on his friend’s face as he squirms.
“I agree, but I know you can make jokes too. You’ve been makin’ one of me all night.”
Kiyoomi frowns at that, searching Atsumu’s face for answers. He can’t be entirely sure whether his cheeks are red from the cold or something else, and while his eyes are suspicious, there’s a hint of something there, something insecure that Kiyoomi wasn’t planning for. “I haven’t been making a joke of you, Miya.”
“Uhuh,” the setter sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, looking away from Kiyoomi. He looks pretty like this, backlit by the streetlights, rosy cheeks on display, a pout Kiyoomi wants to kiss off his face. It’s distracting. “A guy can only take so much, you know.”
Kiyoomi sighs, standing straighter, closing the gap between him and Atsumu slightly. Atsumu’s still not looking at him, fingers tapping away at his own arm in agitation, and Kiyoomi begins to fight the urge to steady them against his arm before he decides he doesn’t need to. His hand is cold when he places it on Atsumu’s, wraps them both around his bicep, and the warmth that seeps into his skin is almost enough to make him shiver in and of itself. “Atsumu.”
Atsumu’s head snaps back to face him, apparently only just now realizing how close Kiyoomi’s gotten. He bites his lip, eyes flicking all over Kiyoomi’s face as he regards him, head seeming to bend towards Kiyoomi’s of its own volition. “Like I said Omi, this really isn’t a funny joke,” his voice is light, tentative, patient like he half expects Kiyoomi to back off immediately, gives him the room to.
It makes his heart flutter a bit, the care and caution Atsumu puts into their relationship, whatever it is, but now it makes him laugh. Something flashes in Atsumu’s eyes, but before he can react more, Kiyoomi’s hand slides up from his bicep, curls around the back of his neck, fingers twisting in the short hairs he finds there. “You flirt with everyone all the time, but can’t tell when someone’s flirting back? You’re so dense ,” Kiyoomi tsks , voice teasing as he grins up at him, shivers at the look he gives him as his eyes flick down to rest on Kiyoomi’s lips before slowly dragging back up.
“You’re a menace, you know that Omi? A guy tries to give you space out of respect, and you call him dense . So mean to me.”
Kiyoomi snorts, inching his face incrementally closer, eyelashes fluttering as he murmurs into the space between their lips, “But Atsumu, you’re my favourite.”
That’s apparently his limit, soft growl vibrating out of Atsumu’s throat as he leans the rest of the way forward to capture Kiyoomi’s lips with his own. Kiyoomi smiles into it, bringing his other hand up to tangle in Atsumu’s hair. The night air is chilly, but his lips are warm and leave Kiyoomi’s tingling when they pull away, the air between their mouths puffing white. Atsumu leans back slightly, whine already starting in his throat when he says, “Omi that’s not fair,” and it’s all Kiyoomi can do to lean forward onto his toes to recapture those lips before he can keep whining.