Work Text:
Atsumu was about to turn 23, in a matter of weeks actually. But now? He wasn’t so sure he’d make it there, not with the new MSBY members joining their roster. He was really hoping to have a spectacular birthday and then ruthlessly steal a win from Kageyama. He really, really was. He was even happy, no actually more excited, when he saw he saw Hinata Shoyo walk into training. He’d vowed to set for him, hadn’t he? But then a black cloud of uncaring and way too much hand sanitizer followed the orange ray of sunshine… Into the MSBY training gym. And Atsumu knew then, he was probably not going to make it to 23. Cause of death? Sakusa fucking Kiyoomi. Of course. It was always Sakusa fucking Kiyoomi.
When the coach announced their new starting members, introduced them to their elder members and then unfortunately (for Atsumu) reintroduced them to Bokuto and Miya, his coach had a shine in his eyes.
“Four of the monster generation now, let’s show the Adlers who we are! Start your warm ups!”
He had said. Like Atsumu wasn’t having an existential, end of life, crisis. Warm ups. Like his brain hasn’t been thrust 5 years in the past, a confused, deflowered 17 year old Atsumu and a 16 year old Sakusa who refused his number- but said he was a good lay. You win some, you lose some.
All these festering thoughts and they still had a whole day of practice to get through.
5 YEARS AGO | ALL-JAPAN YOUTH INTENSIVE
It was the last day of camp, the olympic coach letting them all off early before they had to leave their dorms tomorrow morning and go back to prepare for nationals starting. Said something about ‘don’t be so serious, just be kids’
Because that was the right thing to say to a bunch of riled up hormonal teenage boys.
Atsumu really was planning to just stay in his provided dorm. Not that he really cared but he wasn’t very good at socialising and ‘being nice’ without his other half. He’d probably have no friends if it weren’t for Osamu. According to Osamu’s text anyway.
Samu: Are you really telling me that all top players in our age bracket are having a party and you’re sneaking around for snacks and just going to bed? Don’t be a loser, YA SCRUB.
Tsumu: What? Cause i wanna go play truth or dare with a bunch of losers? No. I want to practice and crush them at nationals.
Samu: YOURE THE LOSER GO BE NORMAL MAYVE MAKE A FREIND WITHOUT ME HAVIBG TO DO IT FOR YOU
Atsumu hissed between his teeth. All caps… spelling errors… no punctuation. Damn Osamu would be mad at him if he didn’t go join the rowdy teens. But he just didn’t want to. So he’d follow through with the original plan, sneak around for some snacks, avoid the party-not-party and then lie to Osamu and tell him he made a friend. Could probably get away with using goody-goody Kageyama. Stellar thinking, if he was being humble about it.
But then Motoya Komori noticed him, tip toeing down the hall towards the vending machine. Atsumu mourned it. So close, yet so far.
“Miya dude! You have to join! Come chill with us.” Damnit. Motoya ruined his perfectly constructed chilled evening of pretending to be an only child.
“I don’t know Toya.. I’m a bit tired from trainin’ hah” Not a lie but hopefully enough to get the boy off his back.
“Nah, you’re not” Fuck. He even grabbed Atsumu’s hand, all but pulling him towards the dorm they were congregating in.
“Hey GUYS! Told you, I could get Miya to join!” Motoya was met with whoops and hollers.
“That was supposed to be a hard dare! I wanted you to do a forfeit” He didn’t know whoever spoke, only really noticing the players he considered above average.
So it was just a dare for Atsumu to join. Bet Osamu would’ve just been invited. But he didn’t feel bitter, no. He didn’t care for others opinions of him, outwardly he only cared for volleyball and Osamu. But he definitely wasn’t a quitter, so he sat in the circle with a bottle in the middle and joined in.
“It’s spin the bottle: Truth or Dare edition” Hoshiumi said. He was a good jumper, Atsumu liked that about him. He nodded, but he wasn’t really all that into it. How likely was it for the bottle to actually land on him anyway?
It was Motoya’s turn to give it a spin. He did it with all the force of a guy who wanted to make someone suffer- “Whoever it lands on, you better pick dare.” - Atsumu found the guy kind of creepy, if he was honest. Same mischievous eyes as Suna, but the kind energy and evil actions threw it all off balance in a way that really made Atsumu feel scared. Suna never hid behind kind smiles or honeyed words. He watched the bottle slow down, giving one last swish of itself before settling in the direction of one Sakusa Kiyoomi. Motoya’s own cousin, surely he’d be let off easy… He was, in fact, cold and serious Sakusa fucking Kiyoomi.
That was one for Atsumu to keep his eye on. Skilled spiker, most definitely. But the Karasuno’s Kageyama had it 100% correct, when he said that Sakusa never gave it his all. Atsumu felt a rush at the idea of facing off against his full power in an actual game. Man he really loved volleyball. And volleyball players. Good volleyball players.
“Just give me whatever dare already, Komori.” Sakusa sounded bored to death. Atsumu wondered if someone had to do a dare to manage to convince Sakusa to come here too.
Did Sakusa put up more of a fight than he did? Atsumu was still looking at Motoya, when the boy suddenly made vicious eye contact with him. Atsumu did not like that look. That glint in his eye. It was downright harmful.
“I dare you to go play seven minutes in heaven with Atsumu.” Huh?
“What? Why am i bein’ dared by proxy?” Atsumu could feel the heat radiating off of his own face, surely rivalling a blonde tomato at this point. Sakusa turned that bored look to him. “Surprised you know what proxy means.” And if that didn’t make Atsumu’s face burn brighter
“Cause you’re such a cutie when you blush” Was Motoya trying to see if Atsumu could turn purple? No one in this circle was a cutie, at all. Definitely not Atsumu.
“Miya, follow me.” Sakusa barked at him. God, they forced him here just to kick him out straight away.
“Am not a dog Sakusa.” Atsumu said, standing up to follow him to a second location- which was how beautiful people like him ended up murdered.
“Yet you’re following him like one” Atsumu could practically hear the smirk that Kageyama had on his face, decidedly ignoring the jeers from the other national youth team candidates.
“Fuck, would ya slow down a bit” The younger boy was practically stomping down the hallway, at a ‘gotta dig this ball’ breakneck speed. Atsumu was basically jogging to keep up.
“Not my fault you’re short Miya” At that, Atsumu spluttered. Sakusa was only a tiny, weeny bit taller than him! He was definitely not short. Sakusa just had long legs, where Atsumu had a long torso. Atsumu’s legs were built for purpose, thick thighs to help his low squats for uncomfortable sets, big calves make a powerful jump for high blocks. Not for sprinting to wherever Sakusa was planning to kill him.
“Where are we even going Sakusa?” He figured he should at least shoot a text to Osamu, let him know where to find his body after he doesn’t make it home.
“My dorm. I don’t like kissing with an audience Miya.” Damn this bitch was curt. Atsumu regretted the slight thoughts that he was hot, at times. When he was spiking. Or not wearing his mask.
“Wait, yer actually plannin’ on kissin’ me? They wouldn’t know if we didn’t?” Atsumu had never actually kissed anybody, he didn’t really want his first one to be because of a dare. Or to a dude. Even if he was a very sexy dude, but Atsumu thought that only very mildly. At least with this location change and his probable eventual murder, he could avoid Sakusa’s mouth.
“I won’t lie. And i won’t do the forfeit. Unless you’re a virgin and-“
“Am not a virgin!” Way to get defensive Atsumu. He could feel the blush returning full force. He was a virgin but there was no way he wanted that going around all the schools. These volleyball boys were all big gossips.
Suddenly, he found a cold hand wrapping his wrist and pulling him into one of the dorms. “Don’t interrupt me again Miya. Are you comfortable with doing this?” Sakusa had Atsumu’s back pressed against his dorm door and his wrists- suddenly both of them in his hands- pinned either side of his head.
Was he comfortable? Well, not 100% but he was definitely 100% uncomfortable with rumours going around that Atsumu was a prude. Or, god forbid, that he was inexperienced.
Immediately, Atsumu felt patronised. And the only way he knew how to respond to that feeling, thank you Osamu and Sunarin, was to get cocky. “‘Are yer comfortable?!’ Stop treating me like a lady and get on with it Sak-“
He couldn’t even finish his sentence, not with the sudden press of the taller’s (brain, don’t say that) mouth on his. It was only a few inches, but it was all the leverage Sakusa needed.
Oh god. He played himself. Now he really wouldn’t be able to beat the inexperienced allegations. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know how to kiss. He was beginning to feel the panic in his chest as Sakusa suddenly ran his tongue over his bottom lip. Clearly the other boy did not have the same issues as Atsumu. Atsumu hadn’t even noticed Sakusa letting go of his wrists until hands were suddenly on his waist. Atsumu may not know a lot about kissing, but he was getting the impression Sakusa was an impatient one. He’d started to bite at his bottom lip. Atsumu didn’t know what he wanted. He would soon learn.
Sakusa suddenly gripped hard at his waist, is he trying to leave bruises or something? And brought his whole body to be flush with Atsumu’s. Oh. OH. He was hard, against Atsumu, who was also hard. What the hell… Atsumu had like 7 fleeting thoughts that he was hot, why was his body betraying him just because he was pressed up against him? One of Sakusa’s hands travelled down to his ass and just squeezed, earning a gasp from Atsumu. He felt the smirk against his mouth before there was suddenly too many tongues in there.
Atsumu wasn’t even sure if he was trying to participate in this kiss anymore or if he was just a bystander. All he could do was stand, back to the door, letting Sakusa seemingly explore his mouth. Honestly this might even be an out of body experience for Atsumu. He didn’t even want to kiss a boy before he was very suddenly being kissed by a boy. And very clearly enjoying it.
It all moved so fast, one second there are two tongues in his mouth and then suddenly Sakusa fucking Kiyoomi is sucking at the delicate skin just under his jaw bone… And Atsumu is honest to god whimpering. WHIMPERING. Pure betrayal between mind and body. He was stronger than this. (No. He really wasn’t.)
And truly, the cherry on top of the betrayal cake- four tiered, pure white icing and simple elegant decorative touches- Atsumu’s own hips stuttered forwards. In a pathetic attempt at what should’ve been a grind. At that Sakusa finally stopped cosplaying a leech and pulled away just enough to look Atsumu in his eyes.
“Yeah? You want more?” And it really did sound like a challenge to Atsumu. He never wished, more in his life, that he could be less like himself. Because he was physically incapable of backing down from a challenge. Literally impossible once that switch was flipped in his brain. So with a flushed face, he met the younger boys eyes- “If ya think ya can handle it” It left his mouth a lot more wantonly than he intended. Almost a moan really. And it was all Sakusa needed to finally slip his other hand down to greet Atsumu’s ass and guide the older boy into grinding the way Sakusa liked. “Oh f-uck” Atsumu really wished he could say he was groaning. But honestly Sakusa had magic hands, magic body, unfiltered raw sex magic, drawing every whimper and moan out of Atsumu.
“Cute.” Atsumu couldn’t even bring words to his mouth to say anything to object to the insulting compliment. Twice he’d be called cute now. He really wasn’t cute, he was raw sex appeal, he was also definitely about to cream his pants and needed to stop Sakusa and not out his own innocence. Except, the younger boy seemed to just know that Atsumu was about to cut this short and pulled his hips away. Atsumu really couldn’t help the quiet gasp and “No” at the sudden loss of contact. He thumped his head back against the door, trying to at least calm his heart a little, lest he blow at the slightest touch from Sakusa.
“Do you top or bottom?” Sakusa had seriously not stopped looking at his face the whole time they had been grinding. His eyes were hooded, heated but clear. Atsumu didn’t know if his would look the same or if he’d look as wrecked as he felt. By the time Atsumu registered and then understood the question, Sakusa had started talking again. Damn he really was impatient- “With an ass like this-“ a firm squeeze to punctuate exactly what he meant “- it’d be a crime for you to not bottom.”
Well. That almost sounds like Sakusa feels a hint of attraction towards him. Sculpted From Marble by the hands of god, Sakusa fucking Kiyoomi almost sounded like he thought Atsumu has a nice ass. How could Atsumu pass up an opportunity like this? Yes he might be a virgin, yes he might have lied about that to avoid merciless teasing. How hard could sex really be though? Atsumu heard about lots of people having it. He wasn’t waiting for a special time, or the right person. He was just distracted by volleyball. But right now he wasn’t. And he had Sakusa fucking Kiyoomi’s hands on him, obviously clouding his judgement.
“Yeah… yeah, I bottom.”
And then it all started to blur a little bit for Atsumu, as Sakusa had obviously inferred that ‘Am not a virgin!’ meant that Atsumu could be trusted. Bad decisions, from both of them really. Very suddenly, he was laid back on Sakusa’s bed while condoms and lube were produced like Sakusa knew he’d fuck at training camp and he had situated himself between Atsumu’s suddenly accommodating legs. Atsumu was about to comment, until all his breath was punched out of him in the form of Sakusa fucking Kiyoomi’s fingers lubed up, in a condom, starting to press one into his very tight ring of muscle.
“Jesus Christ, Miya, relax.” Good one Sakusa, Atsumu will work on that when he feels like he can finally fucking breathe again. As if able to hear Atsumu’s very snarky, snappy thoughts, Sakusa’s free and dry hand started to slowly run up and down his inner thigh. And it was relaxing, enough that Sakusa finally got knuckle deep, working that finger in and out then back in again like he was getting aquatinted with Atsumu’s walls. “God i can imagine these thighs wrapped round my head” And who would’ve thought quiet, brooding Sakusa would be a dirty talker?
“Oh, god.” Atsumu’s hands came up to hide his face on pure instinct, couldn’t handle the way Sakusa was looking at his thighs- or the imagery Sakusa was putting in his head of those curls being between his thighs. Suddenly a second finger met the first, still working slowly enough that Atsumu stayed relaxed enough for them to actually move. The soft hand working on stroking his thigh had suddenly allowed its warmth to leave before very suddenly coming back down, forcing a moan to escape Atsumu before he could help it, clenching hard on those intruding fingers. “Interesting. Will you squeeze my cock like that if i spank you when i fuck you?”
Atsumu was going to die today, he was sure of it.
A third finger made its way in, Sakusa’s pace kicking up a bit. It had definitely been more than seven minutes at this point, Atsumu didn’t really care. He didn’t even care that all the other national candidates probably knew what they were doing. All he could feel was the little sparks from a hot guy fingering him open and questioning if he likes getting spanked. Those three deft fingers quickly curled and Atsumu saw stars, he’s sure he heard Sakusa say “there it is” but honestly he couldn’t actually hear or think anything now. Not when he suddenly speed up even more, hitting that spot every time until the only sounds in the room were the crude squelches and Atsumu’s cries. Like honest to god tears, down his face.
Another hot flush of tears burst out of him at a sudden emptiness, a pathetic “N-no!” at the loss of sensation. Until he felt something intimidatingly bigger. Sakusa’s cockhead was now flush with that tight ring he’d worked on loosening. The sound of the click of the lube rattled around Atsumu’s head. Sakusa was slicking up his cock while it was pressed against Atsumu’s entrance. It was all so filthy, it shocked Atsumu that the germ averse boy could be so dirty.
“Wait Saku-“ For what felt like the millionth time that night, all of Atsumu’s breath was punched out of him. Or thrusted maybe, that felt more accurate. As he very suddenly felt Sakusa’s hips flush with his, no preamble with the one hard thrust burying him to the hilt. “Fuck, Miya you’re so tight. You sure this isn’t your first time?” Sakusa had stilled in, what 5-years-later-Atsumu knew was called letting him adjust, but what felt like condescension to present time Atsumu. If Atsumu had been able to properly look at Sakusa, he might’ve seen the concern on the younger boys face. But Atsumu felt challenged, he felt panicked at being potentially found out. He really made bad decisions at 17.
Although his body was innocent, he had at least watched porn. Straight porn, but he didn’t really understand much of how straight and gay sex would differ in this very moment. Really, really bad decisions at 17. He pulled his thighs up, holding them spread as if he was something to behold while full of Sakusa fucking Kiyoomi and grinded his hips just like Sakusa had guided him too before- “Course it’s not.”
That finally snapped Sakusa’s barely-there-anyway restraint, big spiker’s hands coming to wrap around the outsides of his thighs for leverage, as he set a firm steady pace. It wasn’t perfect, a few clumsy thrusts to find what Sakusa was looking for. But once he’d touched Atsumu’s prostate with his cock, it really was game over. He was on it like a bloodhound on a fox. Maybe he was currently a bloodhound on a fox, what with the way he’d returned to mauling at his neck as he used Atsumu’s thighs to make the older boy meet his thrusts. He felt like a fleshlight with a soundboard, and Sakusa knew exactly what buttons to press to earn the sweet whimpers, the shaky moans and the tears of ecstasy.
Atsumu felt like he was climbing a mountain, like he could feel the steady buzz of adrenaline of being brought up so high. Could feel that low burning in his stomach, clenching of his abs signalling the impending orgasm. “Sakusa, a think m’gonna c’m”
“Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock Miya?” He could feel the words imprinting themselves into the darkening hickeys on his neck more than he could hear them.
“Fuck, fuck, yeah m’gonna. M’gonna” It came out wobbly and wet, but that didn’t discourage Sakusa, not at all by the way his hips sped up. All but dragging Atsumu to his peak, not dissimilar to the way he dragged him into his dorm in the first place. The thrusts were less even this time, like Sakusa was right there too. And if that thought finally caused Atsumu to tip over the edge, whole body tensing, well he could keep that to himself. Then finally, after Sakusa had barely made any grunts or groans at all, his hips stuttered to a stop buried all the way in Atsumu’s guts as he groaned right in his ear. A sound that downright tattooed itself on Atsumu’s brain. Atsumu realised he had put a condom on, as nothing spilled inside him but Sakusa was definitely cumming.
And as quickly as they finish, Sakusa pulled out, tied off and discarded the condom then started to drag his clothes back on. Atsumu had barely caught his breath when he gathered up the courage to ask “So, ya gonna give me yer number then?” heart in his throat. Only for his heart to ruthlessly get ripped out and thrown on the floor at Sakusa’s answering “Why on earth would i do that Miya?” just before he left Atsumu alone, probably to return ready for revenge on Motoya.
As Atsumu lay to catch his breath for a bit longer, biting back tears at his stupid self, at his inability to back down from a challenge or to just say he didn’t want to kiss Sakusa- as much as that would’ve been a lie. He quickly realised, he was about to have to do the walk of shame. He couldn’t stay here, Sakusa would obviously be coming back. So with his own spend drying on his belly, he stood off the bed, despite the ache in his back, the burn in his thighs and the ghost of a cock in his guts. He started to gather his things, before turning and taking the sheets off, replacing them with a spare from the tiny closet in the dorm room. As he was making Sakusa’s bed, he realised just how fucking stupid he was to ask for his number, to pretend it hadn’t been his first time for anything. And then just as quickly as he tried to gather himself, he was slipping out the room and back to his own. Thankfully unnoticed and thankfully not dragged back to the stupid circle with the stupid bottle and the stupidly beautiful Sakusa fucking Kiyoomi.
And when they had breakfast in the morning, Atsumu ignored the stares at the collar of bites and bruises at his neck. He definitely ignored the way Sakusa brushed past him, whispering in his ear something about thanks for being a good time or something equally as stupid and destructive for Atsumu. And he was thankful that Osamu had the decency to ignore the bags under his eyes and the darkening marks as he picked him up at the train station after he got home. His twin, in his infinite wisdom, just guided him to Sunarin’s house first, where the boy could look at Atsumu with barely veiled pity and apply colour corrector and then full coverage concealer so the twins Ma wouldn’t pitch a fit.
“Wanna talk about it?” Suna had said, voice soft but a steady shore for Atsumu to weather whatever storm was brewing between his ears.
“I lost ma virginity, it was a good time, he didn’t wanna gimme his number. Nothin’ more t’say really Sunarin” He kept his voice light, soft smile on his face but it didn’t really reach his eyes. He could hear Osamu’s inhale behind him. Where Osamu wasn’t angry that the national youth team didn’t want him, he was angry he wasn’t there to protect his dumb twin. Angry at himself, because this definitely happened at the camp, fresh enough for it to have been at whatever circle jerk the players had to have had last night when Osamu pushed Atsumu to join. He knew virginity wasn’t a precious thing for him and his brother, but feeling discarded never went well for Atsumu. Osamu knew his twin just wanted to be loved without it feeling conditional.
Osamu’s friends had to be friends with Atsumu, because they came as a pair. Osamu had to love him, even when he hated him, because they were two halves of a whole. The volleyball team had to put up with his quirks and eccentricities because he was objectively the best player on the team. Now Osamu knew these weren’t the reasons people kept Atsumu around, but it was hard to convince Atsumu otherwise when he was conditioned to feel like the consolation prize. And the one time Atsumu was left alone to fend for himself, someone took his first time (in a way that looked to be rather rough, by the state of his neck, waist, hips and thighs, Osamu was disgusted to find out) and then left his twin to deal with the aftermath.
Even on good days, Osamu knew Atsumu’s mind was like a minefield. But this didn’t feel like someone had stepped on one, no this felt a lot worse. And Atsumu wouldn’t say anymore about it than what he had said, that day when Suna was carefully applying makeup to hide the evidence. Osamu, for the first time in his life, felt like he couldn’t get a read on Atsumu. And Atsumu felt like he couldn’t be the perfect match to his perfectly balanced brother anymore, not when he was so obviously stupid and Osamu always had to clean up after him. And then Kageyama and the Karasuno crows stole their national’s journey from them, and Osamu really could see guilt in Atsumu’s eyes but couldn’t figure out what to say besides the fact he was quitting volleyball. Possibly their worst fight ever. As much as it was about the game, it was also about the distance that suddenly grew between them.
The distance that only grew with time.
PRESENT DAY
Practice passed Atsumu by in a haze, he couldn’t focus on a thing other than the memories that, ironically enough, he really didn’t need. He should text Osamu. Maybe stop by Onigiri Miya some time this week. That distance never truly closed again, but they were still two halves. Even if they only spoke every other week since they graduated highschool. Even if it never felt the same. Atsumu felt a hole in his heart. But that hole would’ve only gotten bigger if he continued to burden Osamu with his frivolous emotions. But no time to dwell on the past.
“MIYA!” The sharp shout of Coach Foster pulled Atsumu out of his stupor, he was beckoning him over. Fuck. He was too in his head, trying to navigate the safe thought topics like he had learned to years ago. Trying and failing, miserably.
He quickly jogged over, avoiding the stares of his teammates while they filled into the locker room… Was practice already over? He’d really spent too much time stepping on forgotten triggers in his mind. That’s probably what Foster wanted to talk to Atsumu about. It probably effected his gameplay during practice, but Atsumu genuinely couldn’t tell you that. Not even with a gun to his head, saying he’d only live if he’d told you a break down of today’s practice. There’d be grey matter, everywhere. Atsumu really couldn’t tell you which was up right now, he didn’t have the foggiest idea. Just foggy memories and poorly caked makeup. “Sir, yes, Sir!” He said, jovial in tone, mock salute to his coach, earning an eye roll.
“You’ve been off your game today. You feeling alright son?”
The words echoed around in Atsumu’s brain. Is he feeling alright? He’s noticeably off his game? It’s so pathetic for the loose threads he’s badly stitched together to be so easily pulled apart, all because of a boy.
“Yeah Foster, i’m just feelin’ a bit run down” Hopefully it was believable.
“Run down like coming down with something or run down like that first year at the Jackals?” So it wasn’t as believable as Atsumu hoped it’d be.
“This too shall pass Coach”
“It freaks me out when you get philosophical, Miya.”
“I promise i’m okay, ya don’t need’ta worry”
Foster didn’t necessarily look like he was believing Atsumu, but he also didn’t push any further. With a quick order to hit the showers and then go home, he’d let Atsumu off the hook.
Thankfully, most of the members of the Jackals had finished up and darted home- probably to their loving families, wives, children, the likes. Only three people were left in the locker room. Only three more hurdles before Atsumu could shower and hightail it out of here and hope that Onigiri Miya would still be open. Bokuto. Hinata. And Sakusa fucking Kiyoomi.
“TSUM-TSUM! COME LOOK AT THESE PHOTOS OF HINATA IN BRAZIL!” Bokuto’s voice could truly boom on the best of days, but it just seemed to reverberate in the four walls. (Walls of the locker room or of Atsumu’s head? Probably both)
“Yeah!!! I even got to go meet up with Oikawa in Argentina, he’s still as intimidating as ever but he’s come visit me here now that i’m playing in the league and on a team!” Hinata wasn’t quite as loud, but his bubbly voice and overall sunshine vibe was almost a physical presence- hanging in the air akin to that first minus quick Atsumu had saw in their first real match against Karasuno. He could almost reach out and touch the energy. But it didn’t feel quite as cool to behold, now it just felt like the beginnings of a headache.
“Oikawa? Aoba Johsai’s setter? The one who has lifelong beef with Kageyama AND Ushiwaka?” Atsumu doesn’t think he ever officially met the guy, but it’s the type of petty he aspires to be. Maybe he should meet him, ask for some pointers. He could do with more friends anyway- other than the ones who are forced to be via proximity. ‘I’m surprised you even know what that means’ echoed in his head, he’s not even safe to have a monologue in his mind with the abrupt entrance of Sakusa.
And like Sakusa could hear his own voice in Atsumu’s head and decided it needed to be heard aloud- “What other Oikawa in Argentina do you know, Miya?” His voice was deeper than Atsumu remembered it, he was slightly taller. Still had some height advantage on Atsumu. Fuck he was just as beautiful as well. Betrayal between body and mind, willpower a simple bygone. Atsumu really hated himself sometimes, it seemed to coincide with Sakusa more than he was willing to admit to himself.
“Don’t be rude Sakusa-san! Of course you remember him for that ‘Tsumu.” Hinata was honest to god giggling, “have you ever met him before? You should come out with us tonight!” God that energy was almost blinding.
“Oh, what time? I wanted to stop by and see Osamu first…” Maybe he could try Osamu later though. He needed friends that weren’t his brother after all, if he and Osamu even were friends anymore. Atsumu wasn’t even sure himself. “Actually. It don’t matter, just text me where and when Shoyo.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bokuto’s confused look. The man had asked him once why he doesn’t see Osamu and Atsumu together much anymore, why Atsumu doesn’t talk about Osamu. It was easy for Atsumu to brush him off, Bokuto wasn’t very smart a lot of the time. But when things start to add up, it’s like Bokuto’s braincells all mash together to form One Coherent Thought. It’s insightful and coherent but ultimately an earth shattering thought for whomever would be met with the business end of the uncharacteristic coherency. Atsumu would have to be careful to avoid adding anymore to the pile. Activating Bokuto’s thinking was the last thing he wanted.
He still remembers the Barnes Incident, after his wife had thought she was pregnant and subsequently found out she wasn’t. Barnes was rattled for weeks, even got benched for a small time due to his lacklustre performance during official games, he really wanted kids but faced with the very sudden and very serious possibility of it being right now in the peak of his career had shook him to his very core. Only once Bokuto had reached peak Perception and intervened with Barnes, had anything gone back to normal. It was intimidating to watch the psychological warfare of Bokuto slowly breaking down Barnes until he caved and accepted that Bokuto wouldn’t leave him be to stew in his own sadness. He was forced to accept the helping hand that was offered.
Atsumu didn’t need that though. Because he was fine. And he didn’t need a Bokuto Intervention and Interrogation. Especially not about his relationship with his brother. And he certainly didn’t need anyone knowing his business. He was fine, he was coping and he was taking everyday as it came. No one can, or should, ask him for more.
“You already have Hinata’s number?” Sakusa broke him out of his spiralling thoughts. Above his mask, his dark eyes seemed judgemental at the notion. What the hell? What room did Sakusa have to judge him for having Hinata’s number? What preconceptions did he have about people having people saved in their phones? He refused to give his to Atsumu in the past, that’s his loss and not an opening for him to judge anyone’s number that Atsumu DID have. And he was about to let Sakusa know this until Hinata beat him to the punch.
“Well, yeah” hah! Like it was obvious that he would give Atsumu his number! “He declared he would set for me after we crushed Inarizaki at nationals and i insisted he MUST have my number if he was going to set for me. We never really texted much but i’m glad he made good on his promise” Hinata punctuated with one of his megawatt smiles. Take that Sakusa. Even if the words felt like a punch in the gut to Atsumu, he’d still take his victory over Sakusa fucking Kiyoomi.
“Tch” Sakusa tutted, walking out of the locker room. 5 years later, he was still a curt bitch. Maybe his brain wasn’t all that broken for thinking Sakusa was still hot, because he could still see all of Sakusa’s faults too. Hinata laughed, as if Sakusa’s rudeness just bounced right off of him. Maybe it did, what with his experience with the Kageyamaisms. “Okay ‘Tsumu! I’ll text you the details later, i’m gonna head off too.” Hinata literally shone his way out of the locker room, like he was floating on shimmery clouds and rainbows that lead to unicorns and pots of infinite gold.
Bokuto, however, was still looking at him with that pensive expression that really didn’t suit his face. It felt like Bokuto could stare a hole right through his soul, gripping onto the shards of shattered space between. Flayed bare and struck up like some modern art piece for Bokuto to dissect and analyse. He felt as naked as the day he was born. It really, really didn’t suit Bokuto. And he really needed to douse the fire instead of adding fuel. Would playing dumb help? Should he say he was fine? Tell Bokuto he looked constipated? Tell him he had weak spikes today to tip him into Emo Mode instead? He’d never been at the receiving end of Bokuto’s One Cohesive Thought before and he really, really wanted to keep it that way.
But he also couldn’t back down. He met that analytic stare head on. Avoidance wouldn’t earn him any points with the man, only allow him to come to his own conclusions. That was sometimes worse than the truth.
“Is there an issue between you and…” Bokuto trailed off after breaking the heavy silence between them. Atsumu knew he was about to ask about Osamu. But Bokuto came short of actually saying a name. Which meant he wasn’t sure about what he was probing Atsumu about. Which is definitely not a good sign for the Interrogation and Intervention aspect of Bokuto’s moments of clarity. Playing dumb was really his only option now.
“Hmm? Me an’ who?” Bokuto’s eyes roamed his whole face, mapping every expression and micro expressions and then lack thereof. Don’t be too open, Atsumu, but don’t be too guarded. Let Bokuto see enough that he won’t be worried but enough for him to think he got something right. You can fool this guy. You fool him all the time when you use him as a decoy.
“You and Sakusa.” Fuck. Fuckity fuck. How the ever loving FUCK did Bokuto notice that off of one practice. “I was on the Under 19s team with you two, there was tension back then.“
“What, are yer a mind reader now Bokkun?”
“I think i’m just in the zone ‘Tsum ‘Tsum”
“How do ya even remember that? Was like four years ago”
“Well, it was strange. Best high school setter should be thrilled to work with the 3 top aces… but you could barely look at Sakusa back then. That’s the kind of stuff that people remember, Atsumu.”
“It won’t be a problem on the court, promise. Can we drop it?” Atsumu started praying to any god he could think of, Kita and all.
“We can table it, but we will be discussing this ‘Tsum ‘Tsum”
Atsumu will certainly take that as a now-victory instead of the later-loss that it was. A problem for future Atsumu if you will. Atsumu quickly ran to shower before Bokuto could cruelly change his mind and just hoped that the man would leave by the time he finished washing off the sweat and grime of the day.
…
Atsumu always felt like an imposter in his apartment. No bunk bed, no clothes to borrow (steal), no home cooked meals. Nothing of any real substance. Not even Atsumu himself. Nothing felt right, nothing felt like home. It was all his own fault really. He tried to only go there to sleep, to make instant noodles and to shower. He didn’t even decorate it, just accepted the layout as it was and made sure to pay his rent on time. He was still waiting for Hinata to give him a time and place so he could at least escape for a little while and pretend to be something vaguely human.
So he could pretend he felt the way he only felt when playing volleyball. It’s sad really, that he only finds himself happy with the sting of a ball in palm and the relief of his ten fingers sending it exactly where he wanted it to go. Steady, dependable. Fuel for his fragile ego.
PING
Hinata Shoyo: 📍 We’re meeting here in about 30 mins if you’re still up for coming Tsumu!!!!!!!!
Atsumu: I’ll be there Shoyo 😃
The ping of relief in his head sounded eerily similar to the ping of the text. It was only a ten minute walk away, but he was itching to leave. He’d just show up early, it was a bar and that was enough reason to wait around for 20 minutes for his colleague and his friend to arrive.
When he got there, it was decently quiet. Enough for a good night of mind numbing. Atsumu needed that after seeing Sakusa again. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d bumped into to the man since the intensive, not even the first time he’d be on a team with him. But it was the first time Atsumu finally felt like he’d found some equilibrium. The Jackals had finally started to remind him of that delicate balance he’d had with Inarizaki. Not quite liked, but a valued teammate and player. But these were definitely drinking thoughts, so Atsumu treated himself to a beer. He probably wouldn’t finish it, but he’d nurse it. He didn’t need anymore bottom-of-the-bottle thoughts today.
He must’ve only been sat for about five minutes when he felt the warmth of what could only be Hinata, jumping into the bar stool next to him.
“Atsumu! You’re early!! I wanted to be here first” He had a light scowl on his face, no real heat behind it. Enough to make Atsumu chuckle
“Still competitive about the everyday victories Shoyo?”
“Well i can’t keep tally with Kageyama anymore, so i just see how many i can win alone” The younger boy was pouting now, turning Atsumu’s chuckle into a real laugh.
“Hey, you two start without me?” A voice Atsumu didn’t recognise broke through the beams of Hinata’s light. Not to dull the rays, but almost turning them up to the maximum.
“OIKAWA!!! I ONLY JUST ARRIVED WE SWEAR!” Hinata was nearly vibrating with the boom of his yell, other patrons giving them strange looks. Atsumu just answered with a gentle bow of his head and muttered apologies.
“And who, pray tell, is this specimen?” Oikawa, who’d Atsumu had turned to look at, was looking him up and down with a leer that felt more complimentary than it did creepy. It helped that Oikawa was attractive, Atsumu guessed.
“Miya Atsumu, i’m assumin’ yer Oikawa Toru?” Atsumu stuck his hand out for a handshake, just for Oikawa to bend his head and kiss his knuckles instead. He’d heard, way back when, that Oikawa was a natural born flirt. But this was borderline, even to Atsumu.
“I see my reputation precedes me. Pleasure to meet you, i always wanted to be just like you in high school, Atsuchan.” Oikawa said, throwing him a wink.
“Oh so the birds didn’t lie when they said yer a terrible flirt.” Atsumu raised a brow at him, he could give as good as he got. Oikawa pulled his own hand to his chest in faux offense
“I don’t believe anyone would say i am terrible at anything” And suddenly Atsumu was laughing again. “We’re all too sober, i’m buying us shots.”
“Yer crazy, we have practice tomorrow!” Atsumu only came out of curiosity to meet Oikawa, not to get plastered.
“Atsumu!? Coach said we’re having tomorrow off?” Huh? Was Atsumu really that out of it that he hadn’t notice a last minute cancellation?
“Oh… Then i guess it’s Oikawa’s round?” Maybe he’d stay for one drink then.
…
One drink, as always, were Atsumu’s famous last words. He was definitely drunk. Hinata had left about two shots ago, saying he still needed to unpack and sort out his apartment. But Oikawa begged Atsumu to stay out for just a little longer. Unfortunately for Atsumu. Atsumu was weak to a pretty face, Oikawa’s was very pretty. And he was on vacation so he supposed he owed him another drink. Which turned into another, then another.
Suddenly, it was like Oikawa’s whole demeanour changed. His eyes went from fun-loving to calculating in the time it took Atsumu to throw back one more shot. Maybe they had been calculating the whole time. It was strangely reminiscent of Bokuto’s eyes in the locker room, just without all the background information.
“So, Atsuchan, what has you looking so glum and trying to hide it?”
“Huh?” Atsumu was too drunk for an interrogation, too unguarded. Too unsafe.
“I studied you, back in high school. Tried to be on par. You always looked so happy when people looked at you. But if someone takes their eyes off of you for a second?” Oikawa trailed off, letting the words hang. Atsumu had just met this man, for the first time, tonight. Already he was digging into festering wounds and poorly healed scars. Already he had a better read on Atsumu than half the people he spent most of his time with.
Not for the first time in his life, Atsumu wondered how Hinata had managed to charm and befriend so many unsavoury characters. Himself included of course.
“You have that heavy look in your eyes even now. I still watch your games. You don’t hide it as well after a drink though.”
“I don’t know what yer on about ‘Kawa” Suddenly, Atsumu felt a lot drunker than he did five minutes ago, noticing that Oikawa was seemingly still sober enough.
“Wouldn’t it be a lot easier to unload onto a stranger? Problem shared, problem halved? I have an easier time watching you, when you don’t look depressed. So this is all selfish intentions from me, if that helps.” It didn’t really help. Does being depressed affect his playing? Not that he was depressed or acknowledging the possibility.
“Why don’t ya just kiss me instead?”
Atsumu hadn’t noticed the bar getting busier around them, hadn’t noticed people snapping their pictures already. All he could think about was how he didn’t want to think anymore and didn’t want Oikawa to continue unravelling him. Not dissimilar to the way he’d heard the man was able to unravel opponents during games.
“Give me a good reason to kiss your pretty mouth, Astuchan”
And he knew what Oikawa wanted, some sort of insight to his inner workings and what made him tick and what made him boom. All the gossips in the volleyball community, he’d heard about Oikawa’s desires to dissect and pioneer the way that the top athletes brains worked. Maybe he’d heard it said in a less creepy way, but he was feeling dissected and annotated at this point. If that’s what would get the other man to shut up, Atsumu was willing to give a minute so they could go the hour.
“I’m not depressed. The look ya see? No one likes me. I play up the fact i don’t care, so they don’t think i can hurt. But i do. I hurt a lot. I hurt myself mostly, but i just can’t seem t’ stop it. I’m just self aware enough to know what makes me spiral, not quite strong enough to stop myself circlin’ the drain. I just have to let it happen, let the thoughts take over. Knowin’ where all the land mines are doesn’t stop me from standin’ on em, doesn’t stop me from both welcomin’ and hatin’ the waitin’ explosion. Or implosion. Most of the time it’s both. And it’s always destructive. That’s why it’s dangerous to think. Ya can help me stop thinkin’ though. Ya have to shut me up. Kiss me. Shut me up and help me sto-“
And finally, the other man planted his mouth on Atsumu’s and the broken damn had finally ran out of water to give. It didn’t matter, the village had been washed away years before. He’d never said those things out loud before, the thoughts he kept behind the enemy lines in his head. His thoughts would finally go quiet with the too many tongues, exploring hands, searing kisses from a pretty boy.
It was hot, but there was no real heat. Not a kiss of passion, more a kiss of quick found affection from a tortured soul that saw his tormented one. Atsumu didn’t know how long they’d spent, lips locked, but he knew it ended too soon. Even if he was breathless, even if he had let a few tears escape while using another’s mouth to choke back his sobs.
“Would you like to stay in my hotel tonight?” An olive branch, for making him lay his swiss cheese brain bare.
“If ya don’t mind more kissin’, sure” And an olive tree, in the hopes that the other man wouldn’t want to see more of the fractures hiding between open mouth kisses.
Hands, pretty setter’s hands, led Atsumu out of the bar. Led Atsumu out of the minefield he was content to run through. Led Atsumu to a five star hotel, where he would be kissed breathless again and again. But no further. They weren’t attracted to eachother, but quickly found a friendship between gnashing teeth and gnarling tongues. Not quite common ground, but common enough to taste familiar and sound silent. Atsumu was becoming quick friends with Oikawa Toru. He’d mourn the closeness when the man had to go back to Argentina, but he’d savour the feeling right now.
…
A buzzing startled Atsumu awake, with body heat at his back and a long, strong arm around his middle. Of course, Oikawa would be the big spoon. Atsumu remembered last night in far too much detail to be healthy for himself right now.
‘doesn’t stop me from both welcomin’ and hatin’ the waitin’ explosion’
God what an idiot he was.
The buzzing resumed in the morning silence, making Atsumu jump hard enough to stir Oikawa awake. He felt the man’s lips pressed to his shoulder, speaking into the bed-warmed flesh- “That’s your phone ringing, Atsuchan.”
Atsumu just groaned in response, flailing around to grab the offending buzzing brick. He didn’t even check the caller ID
“Hello?” His voice sounded wrecked, he did cry himself to sleep in Oikawa’s arms last night, so it’s not that surprising to him.
“Atsumu.”
“Sunarin? Why are yer callin’ me at-“ he checked the time “-seven in the mornin’? Fuckin’ hell”
“Do you know there are photos of you with Oikawa Toru’s tongue down your throat on twitter?”
“Hah?”
“Do you know there are photos of you with Oikawa To-“
“No i heard ya the first time, Suna. I didn’t know that” Atsumu brought a hand up to run through his hair, Oikawa’s arm still around his waist. “Kawa, someone papped us kissin’ last night.” He turned to say to the man, only receiving a light chuckle in response
“Atsumu are you still with him? Is he in your damn apartment? Did you two fuck?”
Oikawa simply plucked his phone from his hand, pulled it to his ear and sweetly said “not yet, cause you’re interrupting” before abruptly ending the call.
“Oh i am gonna get an earful fer that Kawa”
“You are so very welcome, Atsuchan. Now hurry up and leave so i can call Iwachan and see if he wants to have breakfast.”
“That’s cruel. I have a sensitivity to being left alone after a night of love.” Oikawa must’ve gotten whiplash, the way his head turned to look at Atsumu. And it was only then Atsumu realised what he had actually said. Damn is Oikawa just a vulnerability magnet? Able to bring out the worst emotions in everyone around him? Atsumu hoped he’d never have to play him, ever.
“Let’s explore that concept more, Astuchan.”
“Fuck i didn’t even mean ta say that”
“Who humped and dumped you? Is something so fickle really what gets you so down?”
“Fickle? Nah. Not just that. I can’t believe i’m gonna cave and tell you this shit”
“I can, so you’re better off not fighting it and just saying it Atsuchan.”
Atsumu took a minute to gather his thoughts. Thought about how he’d always see himself as the unlovable, unlikable one. Thought how it started when he was a baby. The fussy baby, the one that was always too much. Thought back to overhearing his own mother asking her friends how she was supposed to love him when she didn’t even like him before heading off to the gruelling intensive camp. Thought about girls never wanting relationships with him because Osamu was so much more than Atsumu could ever be. Thought back to how their dad left when Atsumu was born, being born first and all. Thought back to how it was his own fault, for not being Osamu, for being born in the wrong way. Thought how he was disposable until he showed talent and drive and passion. Thought back to his brother, crying on Suna’s shoulder, asking the world why volleyball was the only thing that connected him to his twin brother. A perfect copy of him and the only common ground his other half could find with him was the game he didn’t want to continue playing. To Atsumu, it vaguely sounded like Osamu didn’t want to continue being connected to him anymore. Not just quitting volleyball to follow his real passion, but quitting Atsumu to find his real peace and happiness. It made it hurt even worse when Osamu actually told Atsumu himself, after a devastating loss. He knew it was coming, but it still felt like Osamu had pulled out a meat cleaver and cut the wire that made them once inseparable.
“Sakusa Kiyoomi took my virginity at the national youth intensive. He didn’t know i was a virgin. Probably still doesn’t. Left me to clean his room while he went back to play truth or dare with the other guys.”
Did that really sum up all of Atsumu’s short comings? Or was it just the straw that broke the camels back. He wasn’t sure himself anymore.
“Didn’t he join your team with Chibi Chan?”
“Yep. Every-time i’ve bumped into him since the intensive, he’s either actin’ like i don’t exist or sayin’ something that cuts me t’the bone. I don’t think he knows that, either. And now i have t’ set fer him”
“Oh.”
Oikawa at a loss for words was almost intimidating. Atsumu didn’t have to know him well to know that. The man always had something remarkable to say. But there was nothing remarkable about Atsumu.
“Do you… think.. if he had known, it’d have been different?”
“I asked for his number and he asked why the hell he’d give it t’me, Kawa.”
“Oh”
“Feelin’ discarded, feelin’ second best. It’s not a feeling i’m unfamiliar with. But he made me feel dirty. He also made me feel good. I don’t think it would’ve gone differently, no matter what. I’m doomed to be the dirty thing he dignifies with a touch, doomed to pine after it, doomed to be thrown away. That’s always how it goes. I’m the consolation prize to the people that can’t have Osamu.”
Atsumu didn’t know why he was still talking. Didn’t know how he’d come to this point in his life. He was once filled with joy, he had once truly not cared about being Osamu’s lesser half. Because even when he had nothing, he always had Osamu. But somehow, even the other half of his heart got sick of him and left him to waste away. The only thing that never truly left him, was volleyball.
“Are you jealous of Osamu?”
“No. I’m happy he gets to be happy. I’m just sad that he had to leave me behind to be happy.”
“Have you ever asked Osamu if he’s happier without you? Ever told him these feelings?”
“No… I know him well enough, know that he’d sacrifice himself. He cares about people. Said it to me himself. ‘I’ll never be like you, i’ll be nice to people’. Prides himself on it. I can’t catch up with him anymore and i don’t want to pull him behind just so i don’t feel lonely.”
Oikawa just looked at him then. Really looked. But Atsumu couldn’t read anything in his eyes.
“Have you ever said anything like this to anyone except me?” Oikawa tried to keep eye contact, for everything he’s worth. But Atsumu refused. It was just as much of an admittance as actually saying Oikawa was the only person who’d be sullied with these thoughts of Atsumu’s.
“I always admired you. I wish we had met earlier. But we’re friends now, Atsuchan.” The ‘I’ll fix you’ went unsaid, as did Atsumu’s responding ‘you can’t.’
“Well, i’m glad i met ya now. Ya’d have made a fun opponent, but i think i prefer yer as a friend”
Oikawa just laughed in response, freely giving joy as if it could permeate Atsumu’s brain and settle there.
…
When Atsumu finally checked his phone, after he’d settled on a park swing set, not quite ready to head back to his apartment, he wanted to throw the thing against the floor. It was still early enough for no one to be out and ready to take his video and post it. Right there, on twitter, several photos and videos with multiple angles of his and Oikawa’s kiss. The videos certainly made it look a lot steamier than it was, with people captioning them ‘MSBY Setter submissive? Look at those tears!’, zooming in to see the wetness running down his cheeks. Lots of speculation from fans, lots of homophobic and supportive comments. Even people from high school, sharing the videos with captions like ‘didn’t know this guy was anything other than volleyballsexual’
But below all the twitter mentions, all the tags and comments and unflattering angles, was Atsumu’s unopened texts. Objectively worse than the twitter comments and fan theories.
SunaRin: Did he really hang up on me?
: Atsumu if you don’t answer your door right now, Osamu is going to open it for me.
:You aren’t in your apartment???
:ARE YOU AT HIS HOTEL????
:ATSUMU OR OIKAWA ANSWER THIS PHONE RIGHT NOW
Osamu: ARE YOU DATING
:Suna has asked me to come break into your apartment, please be decent 🙏🏻
:At his hotel huh?
:Suna asked ‘should we worry’
Hinata Shoyo: Bro i left you two alone for like ten minutes *link* what is this?
:OIKAWA ISNT ANSWERING HIS PHONE EITHER I HOPE YOU KNOW HE KISSES AND TELLS
:👀👀👀 I want all the deets. I never should’ve introduced the two biggest whores i knew lollll
Atsumu: We’re not whores. And we didn’t do anything to tell about.
Bokuto: *link* *link* *link*
: We are returning to the table.
: The entire time we have been on this team, you have never expressed interest in anyone. Never dated.
: Answer me as soon as you can.
: I am in your apartment with your brother and his friend 🙂
Oikawa: Suna Rintarou is the guy who called you this morning right? He’s DMed me on insta like 23 times 😭🤣
Atsumu: This is all your fault, they broke into my apartment and i’m scared to go home
READ
Of course Oikawa would have his read receipts on.
Bokuto’s last text was time stamped three minutes ago. Which meant Suna, Osamu and Bokuto had been in his since Suna texted ‘you aren’t in your apartment’
Which was 2 hours ago.
Fuck.
Suna, Osamu AND Bokuto.
Fuck.
Atsumu was starting to panic now. And the one thing he was really good at when he was panicking? Avoiding the thing making him panic. Except they were in his home. Where his shower and comfy clothes were. Truly, chaotic evil behaviour. Even if it was Atsumu’s own fault.
He picked his phone up, pressed on his brother’s contact and let it ring.
“Where the actual FUCK are you Atsumu?” Fuck Suna picked up. Atsumu should’ve expected that really.
“Why haven’t you come home yet, Atsumu?” Oh so Osamu’s phone was actually just on speaker phone, since Bokuto asked.
“Look can ya just leave my apartment? I wanna shower safely.”
“Oh i think the FUCK NO-“
“-Suna calm down-“
“-Why should i calm down Samu! Atsumu is doing the thing again-“
“-He’s an adult-“
“-Adult that self destructs-“
“-And yer the only one that knows that?!?”
“Samu that’s not what i meant-“
“-But it’s what ya SAID”
“I just don’t want to see a repeat of-“
“-NONE OF US DO”
Osamu and Suna were bickering, as they usual did whenever Atsumu was around them, breaking their usually peaceful relationship and tipping the scales built to balance. Until Bokuto’s voice rang through and silenced them.
“What ‘thing’ again?”
And as the pendulum swings so far in one direction, it must return its force in opposition.
“Ummm”
“Ahhhh”
“The thing where i sleep around and pretend not to care that i’m unlovable and will never have any meaningful relationships or friendships that aren’t on a volleyball court.” Atsumu’s voice immediately silenced the three men on the other side of the line. It was empty when he said it, all the emotions of the night and early morning gone without a trace. Maybe Oikawa did have a point. Maybe making him talk would actually fix him. Fix it. Whatever went wrong in his brain that made him come out defective.
“‘Tsumu… I think we should talk to ya instead of my phone” Osamu really did sound concerned. Like the crater between them hurt him just as much as it hurt Atsumu.
“Bold of ya to assume i could say it to yer faces when im struggling sayin’ it my phone”
“Tsumu. Please just come home. Seeing your bed, not slept in, brings back bad memories” Suna sounded like he’d been crying, not that his voice wasn’t edging on rage anymore. Maybe he had been crying. Hysterical and banging on his door for his empty apartment to hear.
“We don’t need the memories, Sunarin.”
“Atsumu, you either come to us, or we’ll come to you.” Bokuto sounded serious. So serious, he’d wondered who this stranger was- wearing Bokuto’s skin, using his voice. Maybe a public setting would be easier for them. Easier for Atsumu.
“I’m literally only on the park outside. If ya looked out the window, ya’d already know.” Atsumu’s voice came out so little, must’ve sound tinny in Osamu’s outdated, busted phone. But it was enough for the end call dial to ring out in Atsumu’s ear, like a death bell calling for his head on the guillotine… beep OFF WITH… beep HIS HEAD… beep.
It normally took Atsumu at least 8 minutes to get down the stairs in his apartment block to the outside world, 10 if he splurged and waited for the elevator. But the trio appeared before him in 3 minutes, red faced like they’d ran a marathon. He’d let them catch their breath for a moment before speaking, he thought being considerate. Until Suna smacked him upside the head.
“ATSUMU! I was so worried! You are the dictionary definition of a, of a, a fucking DICKHEAD. I saw those pictures as soon as they went live you know? I need a fucking google alert for your name. Three in the morning and i see Oikawa trying to smother you with his damn tongue! And i waited, i was so patient, waiting for it to be a normal time of day when athletes usually wake up and you answered your phone like you’d had your damn back blown out. And then OIKAWA HAS THE NERVE TO HANG UP ON ME? We went to your apartment ready to box, ready to fight that smarmy bastard and then you just for good measure, just for you to not even be there! Osamu had to UNLOCK YOUR DOOR AND YOUR BED WAS STILL MADE JUST LIKE IN THIR-“
“-Rin, let him speak… please.” Thankfully Osamu stepped in, pulling Suna out of his rant.
“Thanks Samu.” Atsumu had his head hung, hopefully they couldn’t see or hear the beginnings of a good cry on his face or in his voice. He was sat on the swing set still, the damn twin swing set. His twin stood opposite, only an arms width away but mentally it felt like miles. Bokuto still hadn’t spoke, he was looking at Atsumu’s pathetic demeanour like he was something to be studied. And that man had never studied for a test in his entire life, but still managed to pass with okay grades.
Deep breath in, Atsumu. “I didn’t have sex with Oikawa. We kissed platonically.” He figured starting at his beginning would be boring, starting at his undoing would at least make this more digestible.
“I saw the videos, Atsumu, they didn’t look very platonic.”
“Yeah well maybe that’s because i am raw sex appeal Suna.”
“How about we just let him explain his not-sex platonic-situation with Oikawa before we start bickering?” Bokuto had to assume the role of Responsible Adult, as the three ex-Inarizaki didn’t seem to have the facilities for that right now.
“Right so. Last night was actually the first time we met.” Suna kissed his teeth at that. “And honestly he read me like an open book. Things i spent years hidin’ away. My carefully crafted ‘i’m okay’s and ‘don’t worry about me’s had been demolished with like five words and one too many shots really. Something about him just had me foldin’. And he saw things that i was convinced no one could. My inferiority complex, my inability to speak to the people i care about, the growing chasms in my mind and chest and everything about me really. And he wanted me to open up to him. And i wanted him to be quiet. Or shut off the noise in my head. Bo, ya don’t know this stuff, but in third year i kinda went off the deep end with a need for affection. But people kept throwing me away. I couldn’t even sleep in my own damn bed anymore, not since i didn’t have a bunk with Samu anymore. And we didn’t have a bunk because we couldn’t stop fighting. Our Ma had enough and finally separated us. She always preferred Osamu anyway, she didn’t care what i did or who.”
Atsumu looked up to his brother then, whose eyes were red rimmed just listening to him. He looked like he wanted to protest, say something to the contrary. But deep down, he probably knew it just like Atsumu did. Deep breaths, deep breaths. And Bokuto was also holding his shoulder, in that deep and steadying way he always did.
“Anyway. I just wanted ma head to be a little quieter. The same way getting breathless kissin’ someone always does. So i told Kawa to kiss me. He told me to make it worth his while and thoughts i never thought would see the light of day apparently made it worth it. And someone took fuckin’ videos of that moment for five minutes of fame on Twitter. I was cryin’ cause of the things i said. He put his tongue in my mouth to taste the words. But that’s not even the worst of this man’s torture. His pillow talk is essentially a therapy session. Don’t look at me like that Suna, i was too tired and drunk to make it home safely and i crashed at his hotel. I ended up talking about the youth intensive. Told him i got deflowered. Even told him that it was Sakusa fuckin’ Kiyoomi that did it. Not that he knew i was a virgin, not that i ever want him to know i was a virgin. And now, the only thing that’s ever loved and held me back, volleyball, is no longer a safe space. Because i have to look at Sakusa Kiyoomi and pretend that he didn’t give me a biblical experience and then leave me to change the sheets on his damn bed.” Atsumu was laughing, or sobbing the difference was only semantic currently. He couldn’t look at the trio, didn’t want to see the pity or the judgement or anything.
“Sakusa? The same guy that you nearly had a fist fight with at Nationals? Who was all buddy buddy with Osamu? The guy who joined your team? If i can’t get to him, to beat the shit out of him, i’ll beat up Motoya. He never misses practice. Beat up Sakusa by the transitive properties of family or whatever.”
“Suna neither of them know that”
“Yeah but he still cold shouldered you after sleeping with you, that’s shitty. Tried to goad you into hitting him and everything until… until Motoya stepped in…”
“That’s yer thinking face Rintarou, spit it out”
The other two men, Osamu and Bokuto, stood silently watching the verbal volley between Atsumu and Suna.
“How did you two even come about to fucking? How did he come to take your innocence?”
“Ew don’t call it that. Err, if i’m rememberin’ right, Motoya dared him to play 7 minutes in heaven or somethin’ with me”
“Let me call Motoya.”
“Please don’t call Motoya. Sakusa may have been my downfall but he is not the root cause of everything wrong with me.”
“So tell us what’s wrong with ya then ‘Tsumu” Osamu broke up the two idiots yappering. “Because i miss my twin.” He finished, dropping himself into the matching swing with Atsumu, the perfect mirror of eachother. “Don’t think i missed yer sayin’ Ma preferred me”
And if that didn’t just break Atsumu in literal halves. And so he allowed his words to stitch him back together, under witness of the three men who he’d be very thankful for, some time in the future maybe. Because right now was hard. It was hard to tell Osamu he’d heard their own mother wishing she’d only had one child. Heard that she only knew how to bond with, like, love and hold the one son. It was hard to admit how vulnerable he felt about his friendship with Suna, because everyone was just nice to Atsumu to get to Osamu. It was hard to admit that their developing relationship and love made him hurt in places that no one could see or kiss better. It hurt to tell Bokuto how he only believed the team tolerated him due to talent. He wasn’t about to run out and change his whole personality just to be liked, but he wished someone found him okay just the way he was. It hurt worse when they all had perfectly sound reasonings as to why Atsumu was wrong, why all the issues were in his own head.
But it really hurt that Atsumu could understand their perspectives. Understand that it hurt them just as much when he pushed them away, when he allowed the space between him and his twin to grow. Why Suna worried everytime he applied new colour corrector, new concealer. Why Bokuto was worried, not because his sets weren’t as good but because he genuinely liked Atsumu. It hurt that he didn’t believe he was genuinely likeable, even when it was said plainly and honestly to him, with not hidden agendas.
They talked well into the night, Suna and Bokuto sat on the unforgiving ground and the twins still sat side by side. The moon shone and they had ran out of tears, words, hugs and sorrys.
“Come and have a sleepover with me please? I don’t want to sleep alone.” Osamu had a fresh wave of tears at his brother’s request. Because it had been five years since they had a sleepover, something that had been a heal-all between them. Sacred bond of spooning one’s brother, knowing he was happy and safe and not dead in a ditch because his bed was unslept in. And then laughs because Bokuto simply demanded he be the little spoon, because Akaashi always let him be the little spoon. And wasn’t that just a picture to imagine.
It wasn’t a happily ever after, it didn’t make the minefield in Atsumu’s head any less explosive. But it did take a pressure off of all them, feeling like it was easier to breathe. And when they woke up the next morning, it was still easier to breathe.
For the next couple of weeks, he saw and texted both Osamu and Sunarin more. Ate more onigiri than strictly allowed on his diet, racing towards his 23rd birthday. Bokuto had steadily intercepted any interactions between Atsumu and Sakusa, steering Atsumu to safety like a lighthouse helping a ship avoid the jagged rocks bound to sink it. His sets were steady, dependable and damned good. The Jackals in top form for their match against the Adlers.
Until they played a practice match against EJP Raijin. Bokuto was preoccupied by Suna and his offerings of Osamu’s new onigiris. Which left Atsumu entirely in defended when one Motoya Komori decided to drag him outside under the guise of a friendly catch up, reminiscent of being stolen away to a dorm full of volleyballs idiots.
“Long time no talk Miya, Suna was not lying when he said you’d want to watch him crash and burn huh?” He’d started, like there weren’t a million plans to break Atsumu in that evil head of his. Maybe Atsumu was projecting. But it was a valid projection seeing as the last time Motoya dragged him anywhere, he’d lost his virginity and the remains of his mind.
“Yep, that’s always my goal with Sunarin” He decided to respond safely.
“Say i overheard you got together with Oikawa Toru? That true?”
“What? No! We’re just friends.”
“Well you two certainly are friendly, aren’t you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Motoya?”
Motoya’s face twisted into several emotions in quick succession, so quick Atsumu couldn’t seem to pinpoint one.
“You know he’s my friend too? And he gets honest when he’s drunk?”
Hmm?
“Get to the point then”
“You were a virgin at the intensive.”
Fuck. Atsumu knew Oikawa wouldn’t do this intentionally, he must’ve been interrogated about their relationship by the evil libero.
“Still not hearing the point.”
“Did he know you were a virgin when you both-“ he made a vague, but vulgar, hand gesture, “-went to heaven.”
“No. And i’d like for it to stay that way.”
“Why?”
Atsumu didn’t expect the question. Didn’t expect any of this to ever verbally surface with anyone ever again, since Bokuto and Suna were under gag order and Osamu didn’t want to cause an implosion.
“Because ever since yer cousin defiled himself by lowerin’ his standards to fuck me, he hasn’t been able to stand me. And i don’t think havin’ some pow-wow about him bein my first time would change anythin.”
“Why don’t you turn around and ask him then?”
Atsumu felt every single muscle in his body tense. Cold raced up his spine, like he could physically feel everywhere Sakusa’s eyes touched. He turned his head, hoping Motoya was just playing him but knowing he felt that looming presence. With his indifference worn like armour and his cutting words wielded like a sword.
“You think i can’t stand you, Miya?” He had the nerve to look upset at the thought.
“Why on earth wouldn’t i think that, Sakusa?” Atsumu shot back, hoping to see the recognition in Sakusa’s eyes at his own words being paraphrased back at him like a weapon.
He recoiled as if he’d been slapped. He remembered. Atsumu had a moment to think if that time had replayed as much for Sakusa as it had for him.
“I- I, I never meant to…” he trailed off
“Never meant to what? Brush me off? Hurt me? Be my first time? Leave me alone to wipe myself clean and put yer lube and yer condoms back into yer bag so no one else would see them?”
“I had a crush on you. Still do. That’s why i followed you to MSBY.”
Atsumu wanted to laugh, he really did. Boxed in between Motoya and Sakusa, who were really just trying to make fun of him now. Obviously, Bokuto’s presence and protection couldn’t be a 24/7 thing but he never expected for it to turn out like this the moment the larger man had turned his back.
“Now that has to be a joke. But i don’t understand why ya would joke about that. What? Was Motoya tryin to wingman ya and ya decided it’d be a crime to not use this ass?”
“Yes i was trying to wingman him…” Motoya added quietly. Now Atsumu really did laugh.
“Oh this is fuckin rich. I went home with a collar of love bites but not his fuckin number because yer a bad wingman” The laughter just couldn’t stop bubbling out of him. All that pain, all the cold shoulders. “Why did ya avoid me fer so long afterwards then?”
“I left my room to go get some fresh towels and you were gone. I thought the message was loud and clear. I felt embarrassed, Miya.”
Oh my god, he really couldn’t stop laughing now. Not even when his knees went weak and he fell to the floor, not even when his laughs turned to body wracking sobs, not even when Suna and Bokuto eventually found them. Bokuto immediately bellowed
“Step away from our beloved setter, fools!” Drawing another half laugh, half cry out of Atsumu.
But Suna? He just rushed in, ready to pounce. Immediately Atsumu found the strength in his legs to stand and bodily block Suna from tearing into the cousins.
“Let me at em! Let me at em Tsumu!” The man was screeching, really screeching. Drawing the attention of those in the gym and bystanders outside alike.
“He went to get towels Suna… TOWELS” Atsumu’s sobs had turned more laughs once again. “Towels, oh my god i could howl” Back to sobs, which had Suna stop fighting to get at the cousins and instead grabbing Atsumu’s face to help him steady himself. “He’s been so cold to me! All this time! Cause he thought i’d abandoned him!” Back to laugh. Everyone looking in on the scene was confused. Bokuto had finally noticed just how much of an audience they had accumulated and decided “We should get inside, before more of Atsumu ends up on twitter”
And it was the aftermath, with Atsumu hiccuping from how hard he cried-laughed, that they finally got the Sakusa side of the story. Full of yearning and pining and one very exasperated Komori Motoya who finally decided Enough Was Enough and it was time for Cousin Intervention and tried to give the two dumbasses space to talk and get together. Really it was all just an impatient Motoya’s fault- as Suna would say as Atsumu thought.
“So Atsumu… Are you going to give me your number then” Sakusa had asked, nearly verbatim to the lame way Atsumu had tried to earn his.
“Why on earth wouldn’t i, Kiyoomi?” Atsumu had responded in kind, ready to really start healing the hole that time had left in him. Ready to allow someone to try to love him, even if he still believed it not possible. He was ready, to forgive Sakusa fucking Kiyoomi. Ready to beat the Adlers. Ready to have a joint birthday party with Osamu for the first time since their sweet sixteenth. Ready to heal. And maybe still kiss Oikawa, Kiyoomi would learn to accept that present-time Atsumu came with baggage. Human baggage, in a protective Bokuto who regularly checked in on him and made him eat home cooked meals from Akaashi, a murderous friend who wasn’t quite as ready to forgive Sakusa as Atsumu was, a protective-murderous brother who threw all the boundaries of their distance away and would be a pain when Sakusa eventually wanted to ask to make an honest man of Atsumu. And a pretty (annoying to Kiyoomi) setter that loves to plant his mouth on Atsumu. As long as Atsumu remembers where home is at the end of the day, whose bed he wants to sleep in, it was fine(ish) with Kiyoomi. His own fault for not planting his flag when he had the blaringly obvious chance 5 years ago.
Oikawa would also add him to the PRETTY SETTER SQUAD group chat as a reward, an apology and an i told you so, because platonic kisses are important between pretty friends, he never meant to let that slip to Motoya and because letting it slip meant that Atsumu finally got closure. And even better, meant Atsumu finally got that hot boy to give him his number.