It was pouring around 6:03 pm, and Sakusa hadn't expected to see Miya Atsumu beneath the shade of the bus stop with a freshly lit cigarette between his calloused fingers. Sakusa’s sudden appearance elicited a slight startle from the latter and a silent mumble of “shit..”. Sakusa was fully aware he was drenched to the bone and he should be doing something about that, but he took a few moments to thoroughly take in Atsumu's presence. He concentrated his attention blatantly on the blond, who drew a long take from his cigarette and held it in his lungs. Sakusa briefly wondered just how long Atsumu had kept this habit up. He assumed the act had been practiced long — long enough for Atsumu to be able to keep it in his lungs for an impressive eight seconds.
He puffed out a dark cloud, and Sakusa detected a slight whiff of lemons among the smoke. It drifted through the space around them, contaminating whatever fresh air was available. What Atsumu was doing should repulse Sakusa, as it was the antithesis of his principle— taking good care of his health at all times. He was, however, 1.) drenched in rain, which would undoubtedly bite him in the ass the next day, and 2.) enthralled by Atsumu's appearance tonight. So the question of whether or not he cared about his principles was an obvious whopping “no”. Atsumu, however, thought otherwise.
“What are you standin’ around for, Omi?” The blond rasped and motioned for Sakusa to come over with a nod. "Yer soakin’."
“Like I hadn’t noticed,” Sakusa snarked with the faintest shake in his tone due to the cold. Atsumu rolled his eyes as he made a move to shrug off the thick jacket he was wearing. Atsumu handed the jacket to Sakusa wordlessly as Sakusa removed his wet coat, which left him in a slightly soaked black undershirt. Sakusa only eyed it at first. Sakusa would have turned down the offer if it had come from anyone else. But, as much as he despised admitting it, he trusted Atsumu far more than he preferred. Atsumu couldn’t wait any longer for Sakusa to take the article of clothing and sighed, wrapping it around Sakusa’s broad shoulders. Sakusa only tensed around the warmth he was enveloped in, and he prayed to the gods above that his cheeks didn’t visibly redden. Atsumu was close— so close. So close within Sakusa’s proximity that he could properly catch the scent of lemon candy mixed with the smoke this time. He was so close that their noses would bump if Sakusa shifted his face an inch closer. Sakusa would lose it if that happened. He wouldn't be able to contain himself and would kiss Atsumu stupid.
Stupid. Everything about Atsumu was stupid (stupidly perfect, Sakusa preferred not to admit). Everything about what Sakusa felt towards Atsumu was stupid. And Atsumu. He was—
— he was staring at him, too. Atsumu stared at him back with eyes and an expression that Sakusa can’t help but drown in. They were impossibly warm, even as the rain poured down on the shade they were under continuously. Atsumu held a look that, maybe, showed that of fondness, affection, adoration. Then something in his expression shifted, and Sakusa was met with a gaze that was soft but intense. He stared like he could get something out of Sakusa, like an answer.
He felt seen, in a way he never had been, throughout his 24 years roaming the earth.
And maybe he liked it— the attention Atsumu gave him.
“Sorry,” Atsumu muttered, stepping away to create a distance between them. Sakusa tried not to acknowledge the slightest twist in his chest. “The smoke. I know ya don’t like this shit,” Atsumu briefly explained and took a long drag from the stick.
“I don’t mind.” The words left Sakusa without thinking and Atsumu gave him an arched eyebrow as the smoke escaped his parted lips. From Sakusa’s point of view, Atsumu looked mystical.
“I don’t mind the smoke,” he repeated.
“Yeah, ya do. No need to cover up yer disgust. It’s fine.”
Sakusa surprised himself with a shake of his head. “It’s alright, really. Besides, it’s cold out here and.. we need to stay warm.” Sakusa murmured the last sentence shyly, but it was loud enough for Atsumu to hear. Atsumu shot him a cunning smirk and Sakusa retaliated with a withering glare. It didn’t seem to affect Atsumu, seeing that he shrugged and inhaled more of the flavored cig.
“If ya say so.”
Even without sparing a glance, Sakusa could hear Atsumu shuffle closer. Atsumu gave off so much body heat next to him, despite the chiliness of the weather— or maybe that was Sakusa feeling uncharacteristically flustered, who really knew? The point was that there was an aura of warmth that engulfed them both, and it gave Sakusa a sense of serenity.
Which was ironic because, on any given day, Atsumu was far from tranquil and brought unintentional mayhem to Sakusa with every chance he got.
Sakusa liked him either way.
Sakusa turned to his left and noticed Atsumu putting out his cigarette in an ashtray next to him. He pulled out a metal cased lighter and a cigarette box with two remaining cigarettes from his jeans pocket. Atsumu took one of the two, fiddled with it, and then snatched it between his teeth. He cupped the small fire he started with the lighter to burn the stick, shielding it from the fierce wind. He tucked the lighter and box back in his pocket and inhaled whatever intoxicating fumes were released. Then, Atsumu caught his gaze.
“You really should quit doing that,” Sakusa said, before he made a comment on his staring. Atsumu snickered and exclaimed, “I knew ya minded the smell! I’ll back away, seriously. Just admit it, Omi.”
“I’m supposed to, but I don’t,” Sakusa replied and held onto the coat wrapped around his shoulders with a hand. “What I do mind is how badly you’re treating your lungs.” Atsumu grinned wide, then it morphed into a small one consisting of a minor quirk in the left corner of his lip.
“Kinda sounds like ya care about me, Omi-Omi.” It was meant to be playful, but Atsumu's tone was softer than planned and his gaze was fixed straight ahead rather than meeting Sakusa's. Sakusa scoffed and found interest in the ground, just so Atsumu wouldn’t notice his face turning pink. “Oh please. If you were mostly dead in the middle of the road I'd obviously stop,” he paused. “And then I'd watch you die.”
A loud and melodramatic gasp, along with a supposedly offended “Omi-kun?!” was Atsumu’s reaction. “Ya wound me, Omi-Omi! I’m pained, I tell ya!” And he clutched his chest in the most exaggerated way possible, with eyes comically wide and jaw agape. Atsumu was acting absolutely ridiculous (read: adorable),causing Sakusa to flash a miniature grin, one that was easy to miss. Atsumu threw his head back and let out a boisterous, beautiful laugh. Sakusa’s grin grew centimeters wider, because Atsumu was simply infectious. When the laughter slowly died down, Atsumu turned to Sakusa, cheeks sporting a red shade. Sakusa felt an abrupt feeling of self-consciousness with all the staring so he mumbled, “What?”
Atsumu flashed him a dopey, childlike grin. “Yer smilin’ real pretty.”
It was Sakusa’s turn to give him a wide-eyed look. While his heart hammered unbelievably loudly in his chest, he nervously broke eye contact and pouted. “Is that so?” It took all of Sakusa’s willpower to not stutter like an idiot. Atsumu hummed with a hint of amusement, crushing the cigarette butt on the metal ashtray beside him.
“I told you, I don’t mind the smo—”
“Say, Omi. If I tried to quit smokin’, would ya smile at me more?”
The following noises Sakusa made were sudden sputters and incoherent stammering and pauses to try and form a proper response, only for him to come up with and incredulous,
“ What ?”
Atsumu only chuckled sheepishly, placing one hand on his hip while the other busied itself by scratching the back of his neck. “It’s stupid but, I think that I might stop smoking if— y’know..” Sakusa eagerly gave his head a nod, urging him to continue. “If you what?”
“I’d quit smokin’ for y— if ya smiled more, yeah! Ya should look happy more often!” A series of awkward laughs followed but all Sakusa could think of was— actually, he was trying to make one comprehensible thought in his head. Because numerous questions ran through his brain, and he wasn’t so sure on how to address each one.
“Oh, who am I kiddin’? Omi, I’d quit smokin’ if ya told me to.”
What the fuck?
Sakusa remained silent, not because he didn’t want to say anything, but he couldn’t find it in him to formulate a response.
“Kiyoomi,” Atsumu said after the silence stretched on for seconds too long, tone low and quiet. “I think I’m done dancin’ around ya. I just want ya to know that if it’s for ya, Kiyoomi, I’d do anythin’.” Thunder cackled from above, but the thumping of his heart was much, much louder. Sakusa’s grip on Atsumu’s coat tightened and he gulped. Atsumu looked so.. loving, eyes swimming with emotions that exude the kind of warmth that was meant for Sakusa only.
Sakusa was done dancing around whatever it was he felt around Atsumu, too.
“You ruin me,” Sakusa whispered and Atsumu stared with softness. “You ruin me, but I think that— if it’s you, it’s not so bad.” Sakusa noticed Atsumu's lips pursed in anticipation, his gaze shifting from his face to Sakusa's lips.
“Atsumu,” he grabbed the other man’s hand, gently caressing it. “Promise me you’ll stop smoking.” Sakusa lightly brushed up his nose against Atsumu's. He caught the sigh that Atsumu let out and the response of “anythin’ for ya, Kiyoomi”. He took in a shaky breath, and dove down to finally press his lips against Atsumu’s slightly chapped ones.
All Sakusa could feel was the coziness of affection, and he hoped Atsumu felt that, too.
By the time the bus arrived, Sakusa’s hand was held tight by Atsumu, who asked him if “ya wanna come to my place, Omi? My place is clean, I swear.” Sakusa didn’t feel the need to interrogate further, so he agreed.
With the eagerness in Atsumu’s tone, Sakusa could tell that Atsumu had some secret motives behind that invite (secret motives that involved kissing on the couch). Was Sakusa complaining?
They sat side-by-side— Atsumu gave Sakusa the window seat— and Sakusa caught the bright smile Atsumu flashed at him.
For sure, Sakusa couldn’t find any reason to complain. Not when it involved Atsumu.