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“That was a great serve, Shouyou-kun!”
The shout was accompanied by the heavy sound of a volleyball hitting the floor of the MSBY gym on the far side of the net. Hinata Shouyou whooped, bouncing and punching at the air. Miya Atsumu stood beside him with his hands on his hips, grinning at the shorter man’s excitement.
“I’m really getting better, aren’t I?” Hinata asked gleefully.
“Yeah, yer really improvin’!” Atsumu answered, ruffling his orange curls. “Ya might be better than Omi-kun someday soon.”
Sakusa Kiyoomi had been practicing his own serves on the gym’s other court. He turned to glare at Atsumu, finding the man smirking at him. He’d obviously said it just to rile Sakusa up, knowing exactly how to get under his skin. Even being aware of this, he couldn’t help but toss an answer over his shoulder.
“Oh, please, Miya,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You can hardly keep up with me yourself.”
“Hey! I got the first service ace last game! And second!” Atsumu yelled, stalking closer.
“And I got the other three. One more than you.”
“Bet I’ll get more than ya at the match on Friday!”
“You and your bets.” Sakusa rolled his eyes again. “If only you could back them up.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, how ‘bout we make it interesting? Whoever gets the most service aces has ta buy the other one’s drinks when we go out ta celebrate the win.”
“Free drinks?” Bokuto Koutarou and Meian Shuugo wandered over from where they'd been working on receives with a few other members of the team. They both looked back and forth between the two men. Bokuto laughed. “Did I hear that right?”
“Not for everyone. Whoever lost the bet would go broke,” Sakusa muttered. “Besides, I’m not going to bet on something like that. It’s just ridiculous.”
“Whatsa matter, Omi-Omi?” Atsumu stuck out his tongue, eyes crinkling with laughter. “Ya scared or somethin’?”
“Absolutely not! I could crush you, Miya,” Sakusa hissed.
“Then take the bet.” The challenge in his voice mingled with the obvious excitement that was making him bounce on the balls of his feet. His eyes practically shone with delight.
“Fine, Miya. Just know that I have expensive taste and I don’t plan to change my drink order to accommodate your wallet,” Sakusa warned. It shouldn’t have made his stomach flip when Atsumu laughed loudly, grinning even wider. He tried to ignore the feeling, turning to their captain instead. “Meian-san, I can’t believe you’re not stopping this.”
“I don’t mind as long as it drives you two to work harder and play better.”
“Right! A bit o’ healthy competition is good fer us! Thanks, Captain!”
“You’re insufferable, Miya. How do you even know for sure that we’ll win?”
“Don’tcha have faith in me, Omi-Omi!”
Of course I do. Sakusa had to bite back the response as it popped into his head, internally cursing himself for nearly letting it out to where anyone could hear it. He took a deep breath and replaced it with something more reasonable. “I have faith in the team.”
“Then don’t worry ‘bout it.” Atsumu winked, causing Sakusa’s stomach to twist again. “Just worry ‘bout how much I’m drinkin’ Friday night, especially since we ain’t got practice on Saturday!”
The restaurant was bustling with people, many of whom were fans of the volleyball game that had just ended. The MSBY Black Jackals were in one corner, cheering and laughing over the shared dishes and soju that were set before them.
As they’d expected, their team had won, pulling victory from the clutches of their opponents with ease, in part due to the bet between Atsumu and Sakusa. They’d been working furiously to score so that they could have the opportunity to serve.
What no one had expected was the outcome of their bet: a tie.
Bokuto and Hinata had teased them the whole time they were showering and changing, until they reached the restaurant. The team had squeezed around one of the large tables, Sakusa rolling his eyes when he realized he was beside the other target of the jests. He huffed and focused on his meal, unlike the blond.
“What are we supposed to do now? No one won!” Atsumu groaned, complaining as he consumed copious amounts of rice and fatty tuna.
“So both of you lost, technically?” Meian asked, leaning forward on his elbows to grin at both of them. “Then you have to buy each other’s drinks all night.”
“What?” Sakusa choked out. He turned to look at Atsumu, who was smirking at him. There was a moment where they just stared at each other, eyes locked.
“Tryin’ ta back outta the bet, Omi?” teased Atsumu, cocking his head.
“Absolutely not,” Sakusa growled back.
“Hey, Omi-Omi! I need a refill!” Atsumu shouted across the table over the loud music. Several members of the team had decided to extend the night by going to a popular nightclub nearby. Sakusa had begrudgingly accompanied them, refusing to give Atsumu the opportunity to say that he had tried to avoid the bet’s punishment.
“What a coincidence,” Sakusa replied, tossing back the rest of the dark liquor in his glass. “So do I, Miya.”
As most things between them did, the punishment had turned into a competition. Both of them were trying to make sure that the other bought more drinks, keeping the liquor flowing freely. Bokuto had even convinced them both to do a shot.
“Are ya sure ya don’t want somethin’ else, Omi?” Atsumu asked, turning around and leaning casually against the bar once they reached it and gave their orders to the bartender.
“No, I like this bourbon,” Sakusa huffed, adjusting his mask. He raised an eyebrow, making the two signature moles on his forehead rise. “Why? Is something like this too fancy for you?”
“Course not! I just wasn’t sure ya knew ya could get somethin’ that actually tastes good.”
“I’m not a frat boy in college, Miya. I’m not going to drink whatever concoction of food dye and cheap vodka you choose to put in your body.”
“Hey! This one has rum in it, too!”
The bartender placed a short glass of dark liquid and a tall, bright red and orange cocktail in front of them. They each passed him some cash, then traded drinks and made their way back to the table. Sakusa ended up wedged between Bokuto and Atsumu, who were chattering about the most exciting plays of the game. He sank back against the booth seat, seemingly content to let the more boisterous members of the team socialize around him.
Atsumu found himself glancing at the quiet man occasionally, trying to read his expressions. He knew that this wasn’t his usual scene, so he found himself subconsciously worrying about him. At one point, he saw Hinata watching him and realized that he had leaned forward on the table in such a way that he was practically shielding Sakusa. He cleared his throat and sat back, sipping at his drink as a warm flush crept up his neck.
Several drinks later, Hinata somehow managed to drag everyone onto the dance floor. The small ginger had learned to dance well during his time in Brazil, so he was always eager to show off his moves. He and Atsumu spun around each other, twisting and shaking in time with the beat as they laughed.
To everyone’s surprise, Sakusa followed with very little argument, though he stayed close in the pressing crowd. As the group found their rhythm, he seemed to relax, losing himself in the music. He moved fluidly, just as gracefully as he did on the volleyball court.
Atsumu watched him, a small smile tugging at his lips. He’d never seen this side of Sakusa before - dark curls falling in his eyes, shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal a glimpse of his pale chest, hips moving languidly to the song.
The longer they all danced, the more they felt the alcohol in their veins and the music vibrating in their bones. The energy of the club consumed them.
Atsumu was a little farther from the group and dancing to a particularly fast-paced song when he felt someone come up behind him. They seemed on a knife’s edge between hesitance and eagerness, hands just a hair’s breadth from Atsumu’s hips. On a whim, Atsumu took a small step back, just enough to press himself against the person. He wasn’t shy about dancing with strangers. It was a man, a bit taller than him. His hands finally grasped Atsumu’s hips, pulling him even closer so that they moved in sync. They fit so perfectly against one another that Atsumu could feel the man’s racing heartbeat. He grinned, hoping the song never ended.
Atsumu looked up at the ceiling, fingers in his own messy, bleached hair. He reached up and back, letting his hands trail up the man’s shoulders, then up the back of his neck. When they reached his hair, he felt the straps of a mask around the man’s ears.
Shocked, Atsumu twisted around to see Sakusa’s eyes, closer than he’d ever been to them before. The dark pools stared directly into his, reflecting the flashing lights of the club. He seemed dazed, obviously more affected by the alcohol than the rest of them.
“Hey, Omi? Are ya alright?” Atsumu asked. Sakusa mumbled something and leaned his head on Atsumu’s broad shoulder with a sigh. The blond wrapped an arm around the taller man’s waist and started to maneuver him through the crowd. “Let’s go get some air, yeah?”
He felt Sakusa nod against his shoulder and they made their way out the door to the parking lot, where a few people were smoking.
“Take deep breaths - it’ll help,” Atsumu murmured as he steered them toward a more secluded spot on the other side of the door. He glanced over his shoulder at the smokers. “Damn, I could go fer a smoke.”
“Me, too,” Sakusa slurred as he finally lifted his head, though his eyes were still bleary and unfocused.
“I didn’t know ya smoked, Omi.”
“Only when I drink,” Sakusa groaned, rubbing at his eyes and taking a deep breath, as Atsumu had suggested.
“Same here. Wanna walk ta that convenience store right over there? We can grab a snack, too, if yer stomach’s not feelin’ great.”
Sakusa nodded and started moving. Atsumu left his arm around his waist as they meandered down the sidewalk, enjoying the simple contact that the man usually didn’t allow. While most of the team was free with their affection - Atsumu more than most - Sakusa was very particular about physical contact.
He only pulled away from the blond when they stepped through the door of the convenience store, wobbling toward the drinks while Atsumu paused near the counter.
“You still have to buy my drinks, right, Miya?” Sakusa asked as he set a ginger ale on the counter. “It’s part of the deal.”
“Yeah, yeah. Then yer buyin’ the cigarettes!” Atsumu said.
“You have to get a lighter, too.”
“Fine!”
Once they were back outside, Sakusa removed his mask and tucked in his pocket. He cracked open the soda and sipped at it, already seeming steadier on his feet as they made their way back toward the club. Atsumu stuck his hands in his pockets and matched his leisurely pace, enjoying the crisp night air, glad it had been a mild winter.
“Feelin’ better, Omi-kun?” Atsumu asked, looking at Sakusa out of the corner of his eye.
“Yes.” After a few moments of just their pattering footsteps, he asked, “Since when are you so considerate, Miya?”
“Hey! I always look out fer my teammates,” Atsumu pouted. “Would ya rather I’d just dumped ya outside and went back to dancin’? And ya should see when Bo tries ta take care o’ someone. Yer lucky it was me.”
Sakusa just grunted and he tossed his empty soda can into a trash can just as they reached the club again. He removed his gloves and stuffed them in one pocket, then pulled the cigarettes from the other. He drew one from the pack and held it out. “Still want one?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Their fingers brushed briefly when Atsumu took it and placed it between his teeth. He used the cheap plastic lighter to light the cigarette, puffing a few times before taking a longer drag. Atsumu clicked the lighter again and held it out. Sakusa leaned forward and gently wrapped his hand around Atsumu’s to pull it closer, lighting his own cigarette and leaving a tingling feeling behind when he released his grip.
They smoked quietly for a few minutes.
“I didn’t expect ya ta be such a lightweight, Omi,” Atsumu commented, breaking the silence. He leaned forward a bit to smirk at the taller man, who rolled his eyes.
“We drank the same number of drinks,” Sakusa retorted. “I didn’t vomit or pass out, so we tied again.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t all woozy, just buzzed.”
“You know I don’t usually go out like this. I’ll occasionally have one or two in my own apartment, but I don’t usually drink this much.”
“Seemed ya were havin’ fun, though, Omi,” Atsumu teased quietly, though thinking back to the feeling of being pressed up against Sakusa and having their hands on each other made him blush. “Didn’t know ya could dance so well. Wish ya would come out with us more often!”
“Oh, shut up,” Sakusa groaned.
“Ya almost gave Hinata a run fer his money.”
“Are you saying that I was a better dancer than you, Miya?” His dark eyes were suddenly trained on him, sharper than they’d been earlier and lit with humor. His lips were pulled into a smirk.
“If I did admit that, would ya give me dancin’ lessons? I wanna be able ta move my hips like ya did tonight!” Atsumu wiggled and laughed.
“Don’t tease, Miya. I just might.”
Atsumu’s response caught in his throat at Sakusa’s tone - teasing, but with a hint of a challenge. There seemed to be more tenderness than when they usually bickered, though.
They’d bantered like this hundreds times, so why was this time any different? Why did it suddenly feel more important?
The silence that stretched between them gained a gravity, a tension that seemed to slow everything and make their surroundings fade into the distance.
Atsumu looked up at Sakusa’s face and realized how close they were - only one step away. The details of the man’s pale face entranced him. Soft lips beneath a small, delicate nose. Dark eyes watching him from beneath midnight curls that matched the sky. Two moles on his forehead that Atsumu was suddenly desperate to touch with gentle fingertips, though he knew Sakusa would never allow it.
What would happen if he took that step forward? What if he closed the distance and found himself hovering inches from the man who had driven him crazy since the day they met?
Sakusa was watching him with the same intensity, tensed as if on the brink of moving, hesitation obvious. They stared at each other and time lost meaning.
The eternal moment was broken by a loud, cheerful voice, shattering like a broken window. It sent a shiver down Atsumu’s spine.
“Tsum-Tsum! There you are!” Hinata shouted as he burst through the club’s door, followed closely by Bokuto and the others. The redhead’s boundless energy was truly astounding, especially after a night of dancing. Atsumu took a deep breath, trying to recover from the strange moment that they’d just experienced, and answered the smaller man with a wide smile.
“Hey! Sorry, I shoulda told someone but Omi was about ta puke on me, so I had ta get him outside.”
“Slander, Miya! I was not!” Sakusa glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, a hint of worry in the expression. Atsumu realized that he was concerned about the setter telling everyone about the dancing.
How great would it be to tell everyone that Omi-kun had been grinding on his least favorite teammate? Atsumu mused. Thinking quickly, he laughed and shook his head. “Nah, but I needed air, too, so I just grabbed ya on my way out so ya wouldn’t puke on anyone else.”
Sakusa gave a small sigh of relief, though Atsumu was the only one who noticed because Hinata was shouting again.
“Were you smoking?” His eyes were wide, as if he couldn’t believe it.
“Yeah, Omi and I walked ta the convenience store over there. Don’t worry, it was just one and I only do it when I drink a lot, alright?” Atsumu ruffled Hinata’s hair and then draped his arm around the shorter man’s shoulders. “Who’s callin’ a taxi? I’ll split with someone cuz there’s no way I can drive.”
They split up into groups based on where in the city they lived, piling into different taxis when they arrived. Atsumu was thoroughly amused by the face Sakusa made when he found himself squished between Bokuto and Barnes.
After they dropped off one passenger and Hinata finally crashed, snoozing against Atsumu’s shoulder, Atsumu pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Sakusa. He grinned when the response came a moment later.
To: Omi-Omi
u owe me a favor now ;P
From: Omi-Omi
Ugh, just kill me.
To: Omi-Omi
i think the hangover will do that for me lol
no prac tm tho!
fr tho drink sum water before sleepin
From: Omi-Omi
Stop blowing up my phone. I’m going to bed.
Atsumu chuckled, then shook Hinata awake and shepherded him out of the cab and into the apartment building that they both lived in. Once the redhead was safely inside his own home, Atsumu retreated to his apartment and collapsed on the bed. He didn’t even take the time to change, just kicked off his shoes and pulled a blanket over his body, already dreaming about the look in Sakusa’s eyes when he’d threatened to dance with Atsumu again.
A couple months passed without another “eternal moment” between Atsumu and Sakusa. They continued to bicker and compete any chance they got, driving each other nuts. No one could deny that they drove each other to be better, though, which helped the team continue to collect victories.
At one of the away games, the two were forced to share a room, much to their dismay. Meian quickly cut off their complaints.
“Listen, we don’t get individual rooms because the hotel is so booked with our fans who are here to see us play. Be grateful and deal with it for a couple nights.”
The night before the match was uneventful, both of them sleeping early in order to be well-rested and ready to play.
The next night, Atsumu plopped on the bed with a heavy sigh.
“That was a tough one,” he mumbled, running a hand through his messy hair, making it stick up in all directions.
“It was definitely close,” Sakusa agreed, following him into the room and passing him to sit on the other bed. He pulled off his mask and gloves. “We almost lost.”
“Don’t remind me, Omi!” Atsumu groaned, throwing an arm over his face.
“I said ‘almost,’ so why are you whining?”
“It shouldn’ta been so close. I messed up too much.”
“You were all smiles at the restaurant. Weren’t you and Hinata singing some stupid victory song? What happened between then and now?” Sakusa furrowed his brow at the man, who just rolled onto his stomach to bury his face in the hotel bedspread, arms wrapped around his head.
“Can’t I mope in peace?” His voice was muffled. “Don’t usually have ta worry ‘bout anyone seein’ this.”
“Do you beat yourself up like this after every game?” Sakusa asked incredulously, all teasing gone from his voice as he considered the possibility. Atsumu was so wildly confident and positive that it was astounding to think that he would do such a thing. It was a long moment before Atsumu turned his head and replied in a low voice.
“It’s not so bad when we win and get to celebrate together. It’s just kinda annoyin’ when it’s a close game. It’s the worst when we lose, but no matter what, I think a lot ‘bout what I coulda done differently.” He sighed deeply and refused to meet Sakusa’s eyes. “It’s my responsibility as setter, ya know? It all comes down ta me ‘n’ my choices.”
He retreated into the bedspread again, leaving Sakusa gazing at him, unsure what to say. He had no idea that Atsumu took so much onto his own shoulders and he had no idea how to comfort him.
Finally he stood, moving toward the bathroom. As he passed Atsumu, he paused and rested one hand on his upper back. He felt the man tense at the feather-light touch, then relax completely.
“You did well, Atsumu,” he murmured. “We wouldn’t be the team we are without you. You make us strong.”
Atsumu felt the gentle pressure of Sakusa’s hand disappear, then heard the bathroom door close. He peeked past his arms to find himself alone, glad that no one was there to see the bright red blush that colored his cheeks.
When Sakusa exited the bathroom some time later, Atsumu was laughing at some game show, obviously feeling better.
“You’d better not keep me up with that racket,” Sakusa muttered, climbing into bed.
“I could keep ya up some other way,” Atsumu quipped with a wink, though he turned the television off.
“Now that would probably put me to sleep.”
“Hey!”
“Good night, Miya.” Sakusa ignored the scoff and rolled onto his side, back to his roommate.
“Ya don’t wanna cuddle, Omi-kun?” Atsumu teased.
“Absolutely not.”
Atsumu chuckled and turned off the light, sending the room into complete darkness. As he snuggled down into the blankets, he thought about how comforting it was to hear another person’s breathing, to know that someone was close by as he let sleep wash over him. He hadn’t realized he'd missed it so much.
Partway through the night, Atsumu jerked awake. It happened often - sometimes several times in one night - but instead of immediately slipping back into the warm embrace of unconsciousness, he became aware that something else was happening in the hotel room. It took him a moment to remember that he wasn’t alone, then another moment to remember that it was Sakusa laying several feet away. It sounded like he was moaning softly.
“Omi?” Atsumu asked blearily, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He thought he heard the other man curse under his breath. “What’s wrong? Are ya alright?”
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Ya didn’t. And ya didn’t answer my question.”
“It’s not a big deal. Go back to sleep.”
“That’s still not sayin’ that yer alright, Omi.” Atsumu reached over and turned on the lamp on the nightstand between the beds. Sakusa was sitting in the middle of twisted bedding, cradling his hands in his lap. He blinked at the light with a frown, then sighed.
“My hypermobility has downsides, like making it more difficult to properly stretch the muscles and tendons in my wrists. Sometimes it causes me aches and pain that I can’t seem to get rid of.” He glared, as if challenging Atsumu to make some joke about it. Instead, the blond climbed out of bed and ran to the bathroom. A minute later, he returned and crossed the gulf to Sakusa’s bed.
“Can I?” Atsumu held out his hand.
“What are you going to do?” Sakusa asked suspiciously.
“I know somethin’ that might help. Samu and I used ta do it fer each other when we trained too hard or too much.”
“What?”
“I’ll help massage ‘em and stretch ‘em out.” When Sakusa still hesitated, Atsumu made an impatient noise. “Come on, Omi. You owe me!”
“You’re going to use your favor now? To force me to accept your help?” he asked incredulously.
“What better time is there?” Atsumu replied with a grin, sitting on the edge of Sakusa’s bed and offering his hand again. “I even washed my hands!”
Sakusa rolled his eyes and slowly reached out one hand. His cool fingers brushed Atsumu’s palm softly, betraying his remaining hesitance. The touch made Atsumu’s heart beat harder in his chest. He was gentle as he brought his other hand up as well, closing his fingers around Sakusa’s long, pale ones.
The moment he began to apply pressure, Sakusa relaxed. Atsumu rubbed his hand and wrist, pulling and pushing and stretching each part with care. He found himself counting the moles that were scattered across Sakusa’s skin, running his fingers over them as he continued the massage.
“Yer other hand, Omi,” Atsumu murmured after a while, setting down the hand that he’d been holding and taking the other that Sakusa eagerly offered.
He repeated the process slowly and methodically, relishing in the simple pleasure that the contact brought him. It gave him a warm feeling in his chest, knowing how Sakusa hated people touching him and still allowed Atsumu to do this for him. He could have refused, but instead he was sitting back with his eyes closed, making small noises of happiness that had Atsumu blushing.
When he looked up from the beautiful hand that he’d been so focused on, he found that Sakusa was completely relaxed.
“Omi?”
No answer. Atsumu smiled, realizing that he must have been successful, easing Sakusa’s pain enough that he could sleep. He stared at him for several long moments, examining him as he wasn’t usually able to. Before he could stop himself, Atsumu reached out and brushed a few dark curls from the man’s forehead, lingering on the black locks for a bit too long. He shook himself free, running his fingers through his own hair.
What am I thinking? He stood carefully so that he didn’t wake Sakusa, pulling one of the blankets over him before retreating to his own bed and turning off the light. Atsumu sighed deeply, trying to remind himself that yearning for something he couldn’t have was hopeless.
His heart ignored him and yearned anyway.
Just as the professional volleyball season ended, Meian announced that they would have a team barbeque at a large park just outside the city. Most of the team was excited, chattering and signing up for what they would bring to the potluck-styled picnic.
“Yes, it’s mandatory,” Meian said, cutting Sakusa off when he opened his mouth to protest. “You can bring utensils and napkins and cups.”
Sakusa groaned and sat back in his chair, pulling his mask up and grumbling to himself.
On the day of the event, Atsumu and Hinata drove together, making small talk about the warm spring weather. They arrived to find Meian preparing the grill and Bokuto trying to help Sakusa set the picnic tables. A few other team members had arrived as well, setting their side dishes on one of the tables.
“Is this the drink table?” Atsumu asked, setting three large glass bottles on another one of the tables that had a tablecloth on it. “I brought wine!”
“Pink Moscato?” Even with his mask on, it was obvious that Sakusa scrunched his nose as he read the label.
“What? It’s good!” Atsumu stuck his tongue out at the other man.
“Your judgement is definitely impaired.”
That’s why I like you. Atsumu bit his tongue and turned away, wondering at the sentence that had nearly leapt from his mouth. Don’t be stupid, Tsumu. Ya can’t say that.
“I brought potato salad!” Hinata shouted, racing between them to set it next to the rest of the food.
“I picked out some great meat for everyone and Akaashi made cupcakes for dessert,” Bokuto told them proudly. He took a few steps to where his husband was sitting and wrapped his arms around the man, making him smile. “Akaashi is such a good baker!”
When the remaining team members arrived, Meian revealed a number of games and team-building exercises for them all to do. Some of the spouses and significant others were pulled in as well.
Atsumu found himself glancing at Sakusa on occasion, chuckling at his expressions during the activities. For most of them, he was glaring, sipping from a silver flask that he kept pulling from his pocket. The only time he seemed interested was during a drawing game, where his competitive spirit took over and he exposed a hidden talent for sketching. His team won, leaving him with a small smile as Meian called for everyone to eat.
Afterward, while everyone was milling around the desserts, Atsumu slipped away. He wandered toward the small lake that the park boasted as he nibbled at a cupcake, a plastic cup of wine in his other hand. When the water came into view, he was startled to find Sakusa there as well, standing in the shade with his arms crossed and his eyes on the distant shore.
“Hey, Omi-Omi!”
“Miya, you would show up just as I find a peaceful spot.” Sakusa glared as he turned. “I guess that’s ruined.”
“Where’s yer cupcake? Did ya already have dessert?” Atsumu asked, ignoring the insult.
“I’m not fond of most sweets. Why aren’t you back in the thick of the social mire?”
“It got a bit loud. Sometimes I like ta just step away fer a sec, ya know?” The blond stuffed the rest of his cupcake in his mouth with a grin.
“Is that so?” Sakusa seemed to be trying to discern if Atsumu was joking. He took a sip from his flask, then turned back to watch the water. It was rippling in the easy breeze, reflecting the bright afternoon sunlight.
“What’s in the flask anyway, Omi? I seen ya sipping from it all day.”
“Whiskey.”
“Ew, don’t ya like anythin’ good, Omi?” Atsumu laughed, drinking the rest of his wine and crumpling the cup in his fist. He felt warm and fuzzy, just enough alcohol in his system to make the sunlight feel like gold settling on his skin. To his surprise, Sakusa snorted.
“Well, I like you.” Sakusa froze, then let out a short, breathy laugh in the tense silence left behind after his startling words. “Shit.”
“Wait…” Atsumu was struggling to process what he just heard, sure that he was mistaken, but so afraid to confirm it. He looked up at the man, examining his face in an attempt to glean the truth from it. “Did ya just say-”
“Shut up, Miya,” Sakusa cut him off, refusing to meet his eyes. “If you make some stupid joke about it, I swear-”
“No!” Atsumu was the one to interrupt this time. “It’s just… I just…”
He trailed off and looked away, mind scrambling to make sense of what was going on. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, feel it trying to leap from his chest.
“I wanted ta make sure I heard ya right,” Atsumu finally said. He blushed but continued, gaze on the grass beneath his shoes. “It’d be real dumb if I confessed that I like ya, too, but turned out ya said somethin’ different. Yer outta my league anyway, bein’ so beautiful and skilled and incredible like that, so I’m still not sure ya really said it or that it’s not the whiskey talkin’.”
Why’d I say all that? In the silence that followed, he was sure that he had ruined everything. What would Sakusa say? He briefly wondered if the other man was still there, but fear kept him from looking up to see whether he had been left alone like so many times before.
Cool fingertips brushed his chin, slipping beneath it and lifting his face. Sakusa was so close that their fluttering shirts brushed one another. His mask was gone and his dark eyes were staring at Atsumu with such intensity that he couldn’t look away.
“I like you, Atsumu,” Sakusa said quietly. The blond swallowed thickly, trying to keep from bolting or crying or saying something horribly ruinous. It was unreal. Things like this didn’t happen to him. “It’s stupid but it’s not the whiskey. I don’t know when it happened, but all of a sudden, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Your kindness and dedication and selflessness and those goddamn eyes that I can’t get out of my head and those hands that I wouldn’t mind holding forever. I think I love you.”
“Omi.” Atsumu’s voice was low and the word was barely more than a whisper. It held everything he wanted to say and somehow Sakusa understood just by looking into his golden eyes. He said it anyway. “I love you, too.”
Lips pressed to his and it felt like everything else fell away. Sakusa looped his arms around Atsumu, pulling him close. Atsumu wrapped his arms around Sakusa’s neck, holding tightly to the one he’d sworn he could never have. It felt like they fit together perfectly, as if they’d been crafted to hold each other this way.
They kissed each other deeper, the taste of cheap wine and whiskey mingling on their tongues as they tried to consume one another. All of the banter and sass and teasing between them made sense as they pulled each other even closer, ever competitive. Atsumu’s back was pressed against a tree, Sakusa’s arms still tight around his waist, as he wound his fingers through the taller man’s hair. It felt like they would explode with the force of their feelings.
How had they gone so long without this? How had they survived?
When they eventually separated and gasped for air, they stared at each other, noses only inches apart. Sakusa brushed his thumb across the blond’s cheek, tracing his cheekbone like it was precious art. Atsumu smiled and leaned into his hand, realizing that he didn’t mind the taste of whiskey so much if it was on this man’s lips.
“Finally,” Sakusa whispered, pressing his forehead to Atsumu’s with a sigh.
“Finally,” Atsumu agreed.
Finally we kissed
For the first time
How could I have missed
All of the signs
You are in my arms
Feelin’ so fine
The day we fell in love
In love, in love, in love
Finally we kissed
For the first time
Whiskey on your lips
Mixed with cheap wine
Finally we kissed
In the sunshine
The day we fell in love
In love, in love, in love
The day we fell in love
(The Day We Fell in Love by Nick Kingsley)