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Atsumu stayed at Hogwarts over winter break for the first time in his sixth year. His family had finally consented to letting him and his brother stay with their friends, and for the first couple of days, everything was fine. He collected cards from chocolate frogs and played wizard chess with Osamu and Suna—as expected, he won by a landslide, because he had always been a master at wizard chess. The three of them coerced Sakusa into practicing moves on their broomsticks in the afternoons, which meant that Komori was often present, too. It was the most fun he’d had in a long time, flying high above the empty Quidditch pitch, hitting Quaffles back and forth with his fellow Slytherins. The school wasn’t so bad when classes weren’t in session.
Everything was going perfectly well right up until the third day of break, when he was lounging by the frozen lake with his friends.
Osamu and Suna were still sulking over their last devastating losses, so he was playing wizard chess against Komori, who was a formidable opponent. Atsumu leaned back against the tree when he won, Komori sighing in defeat and leaning beside him.
“When’s the last time someone beat you at this game?” he asked.
“Ya know, I can’t remember. Been such a long time.”
He wasn’t trying to be cocky. It was just the truth—Atsumu hadn’t lost in a match of wizard chess for as long as he could remember. Perhaps he’d lost against Osamu once or twice when they were younger, but that was it.
“Hmm.” Komori was aghast. “What about Sakusa?”
“He ain’t half-bad. I wouldn’t be playin’ against him if he wasn’t good. Anyone who can’t keep up in wizard chess ain’t worth my time.”
Komori began to say something else, but Atsumu wasn’t listening. It was at that moment that he decided to glance up, the moment that began the snowball effect of everything, the reason for his winter break veering off its course so suddenly: there was another group of students hanging around the lake, and when his eyes wandered over, Atsumu found himself making eye contact with Tobio, that Keeper from Gryffindor.
It was clearly an accident on Tobio’s end, too—Tobio whipped his head around so hastily that Atsumu was sure he’d given himself whiplash. Atsumu coughed and looked at the ground. It wasn’t like he hated the boy or anything. He’d barely even talked to him before, except for a few times on the Quidditch pitch, since they’d ran into each other when practicing on their own. Tobio was practically a stranger, standing a few feet away, bundled up in his red scarf and his thick robes, scowling at the frozen lake like it had personally offended him. At the most, he respected him. He was the one of the only Keepers who could keep him on his toes.
Atsumu frowned and thought for a moment. If Tobio could fly as fast as he did on a broom, he probably wasn’t bad at wizard chess, either.
He got to his feet, cutting Komori off without meaning to. Atsumu dragged a hand through his hair as he crossed the courtyard to where Tobio was standing with his Gryffindor friends, trying to appear friendly. He could see Osamu and Suna’s eyes burning into his back, but he couldn’t be bothered to care.
Once he was close enough, Atsumu lifted his hand and waved. “Heya, Tobio-kun!”
Tobio seemed appalled, as if he couldn’t believe someone was going out of their way to talk to him. With the way he was always glowering, Atsumu wouldn’t be surprised if that was true. Tobio looked at his friends like he wanted to ask for help, but Atsumu ignored that and ambled over to him, crossing his arms.
“Tobio-kun, how ‘bout a match of wizard chess? Ya look like a good opponent.”
Tobio’s eyes narrowed. Maybe Atsumu shouldn’t have been calling him by his first name when they’d only spoken several times before, but it was too funny to rile up Gryffindors, anyway.
Hinata, that annoying dwarf of a Chaser, jumped up and started going on about how he liked to play wizard chess, too. Atsumu paid no attention to him as he ushered Tobio to where he’d left his board. Upon first glance, Tobio seemed disinterested, but when his eyes fell upon the white and black chess pieces, his eyes lit up with a sort of gleam that Atsumu had rarely seen from anyone before. It was the same gleam in his eyes from when he would knock a sudden Quaffle all the way across the pitch, the kind that meant he was playing to win.
Atsumu sat up a little straighter. This was going to be interesting.
“Do you want to go first, Miya-san?”
“Nah, go ahead. And ya don’t need to call me Miya-san, ya know—makes me feel like an old man. Just Atsumu is fine.”
Tobio squinted. He did not appear to be in the habit of calling people by their given names, but at the very least, he didn’t say anything about Atsumu calling him Tobio-kun.
The match lasted for a while, much longer than the match against Komori. Atsumu had never seen anyone ponder their next move for as long as Tobio did. He would glare at the chessboard and wrinkle his nose, eyes flicking across the pieces, never lingering in one spot. It was like he was seeing everything. With those rumors of how Tobio had almost been held back a year for his bad grades, he never would’ve guessed the boy could think so hard. Then again, he was a Keeper. Keepers had to always be watching the Quaffle, planning their next move long before they executed it.
Hinata and a couple other Gryffindors came to watch. Even Suna and Osamu lingered on the outskirts, feigning boredom, but observing all the same. Atsumu found himself studying the little crease in Tobio’s forehead. It was almost cute, how seriously the boy took himself. He was a fifth year, one year under Atsumu, but he acted so much older.
Atsumu won at last when he cornered Tobio’s king. Hinata screeched like he was the one that lost. His other friends looked surprised. “Kageyama hasn’t lost a match of wizard chess for years,” someone explained. Sounded familiar.
He allowed himself a peek at Tobio. Tobio was wearing the same straight face he always wore, but he didn’t look nearly as upset as Atsumu had expected. Something inside of his chest wavered. An unwanted thought struck him then, that he wanted to be the one to make that impassive mask crack. Atsumu immediately wondered what the hell had gotten into him.
“Good match, Miya-san,” Tobio told him. Atsumu’s smile widened.
“It was a good match, wasn’t it? Ya aren’t bad at playin’. We can do it again sometime.”
Tobio looked stunned. “Okay,” he said, after a beat. “I’ll win next time.” There it was, that same wavering sensation inside his chest. Atsumu was overcome with the sudden urge to pinch his cheeks. Was it possible that someone who scowled so often could be so endearing?
He did not see Tobio again until that evening, when everyone was eating lunch in the Great Hall. Tobio was sitting with Hinata and his other friends from earlier, nodding along to whatever nonsense that shrimp was babbling. Atsumu recognized the others as members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He didn’t think twice before yanking on Osamu’s sleeve and dragging him away from the Slytherin table, Suna and Komori in tow.
“What the hell are ya doin’, idiot?” Osamu grumbled, yanking his arm free.
“Don’t ask questions, ‘Samu! Just be a good brother and follow yer twin.”
“Ya can’t just tell me not to ask questions and expect me to listen. We always sit in the same spot. Did ya hit yer head or somethin’?”
Atsumu was too good of a person to rise to the bait, thank you very much. He ignored his brother and dropped into the empty seat beside Tobio, avoiding the startled looks he got from Tobio’s friends. No one looked more surprised than Tobio himself, who turned to stare at him with a sharp frown, as if he would rather have anyone else in the world sit with him besides Atsumu. He was only a little offended.
Osamu, realizing that the idea of dragging Atsumu back to the Slytherin table was drifting farther and farther away, exhaled and took the seat next to his brother. Komori and Suna followed suit.
“ Whoa, the Miya brothers!” Across the table, Hinata seemed in awe. Everyone in Hogwarts knew of Atsumu and Osamu—Slytherin troublemakers, Quidditch stars, and notorious for getting house points deducted. It was usually because they were arguing with each other. “Your faces are exactly the same!”
Tobio levelled his glare on him. “Dumbass, that’s because they’re twins,” he said.
Atsumu grinned. He couldn’t help it. Suna blinked at him, like he was trying to figure something out. From beside him, Osamu just snorted.
“Be nice, Tobio-kun,” Atsumu chided.
“Be nice?” their bald Beater growled, cracking his knuckles. Atsumu raised an eyebrow. “How do you expect us to be nice when you sneaky Slytherins come over to our table and try to—”
“Tanaka!” Their captain sounded exasperated. Tanaka shut up right away.
Tobio turned to him again. “What are you doing here?” His voice sounded flat, nearly bored, but his eyes said otherwise. Atsumu was intrigued.
“I just wanted to hang out with ya and yer friends. Can’t I do that?”
“We aren’t friends, though.”
Leave it to Tobio to tell it like it was. It wasn’t like Atsumu didn’t know that, but he winced all the same.
“Ouch, Tobio-kun.” He raised a hand to his heart. “I’m hurt.”
Tobio’s brow furrowed.
“Why don’t you go to the Hospital Wing?” he suggested.
Atsumu’s jaw didn’t drop. Really, it didn’t. He was just surprised, that was all.
“It was just an expression,” he managed, and clapped a hand on his shoulder when Tobio still looked perplexed. “I wouldn’t worry ‘bout it, if I were ya.”
One glance to his right told him that Osamu and Suna were snickering behind their hands. Atsumu swore he was going to yell at them later.
Conversation was difficult to think of. At least Hinata, Tanaka, and their little Seeker, Nishinoya, talked enough for everyone. Atsumu picked at his food. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had dragged himself and his friends over here for dinner, but whatever the reason, he supposed it wasn’t as horrible as it could’ve been. His eyes flicked over to Tobio every so often. Tobio was drinking some Muggle brand of milk and staring down at his plate with what seemed to be utter concentration. It seemed he did everything with the same amount of intensity, like he knew nothing else.
Dinner was almost over when he faced Tobio with an expectant look. “Another match of wizard chess?” Atsumu asked. They still had time before curfew, and he knew he wouldn’t say no.
Tobio’s eyes had the same gleam in them from before. “Okay,” he agreed. “Bring your board over.”
Atsumu paused. He looked over at the Slytherin table.
“I left it in my dorm,” he said.
Tobio seemed to deflate. “That’s alright,” he said. Atsumu almost wanted to laugh, seeing how much Tobio craved competition, but he seemed genuinely distraught, and Atsumu couldn’t have that.
He got to his feet. Tobio looked at him with suspicion.
“Are you getting your chessboard?”
He waved him off. “Nah, that will take too long. I have an idea.”
“An idea,” Suna deadpanned.
“Ya and yer horrible ideas. Stop taintin’ the poor Gryffindors,” Osamu interjected. Atsumu rolled his eyes at him and hoisted Tobio up by the shoulder, who let out an uncharacteristic squeak. “‘Tsumu, what the hell is wrong with ya?”
“Tobio-kun and I will see ya later,” he announced. Tobio whipped his head around and looked at his captain, as if asking to be excused. His captain frowned, but he finally nodded. Nishinoya hooted something about making sure he was back in one piece.
As Atsumu dragged him out of the Great Hall, he couldn’t fight back his smirk. Osamu always told him his smirk made him look like he was plotting something, usually in an abrasive manner.
“Are ya always such a goody-goody?” he asked him.
Tobio squinted. “What?”
“Ya know, a goody-goody. Following all the rules and shit.” They rounded a corner. “Never woulda struck me as the type.”
Tobio was silent, probably working his little brain too hard to wrap his mind around his declaration. Atsumu didn’t mean anything hostile. It was just the truth—Tobio was a lot less strong-willed than he appeared on the Quidditch pitch.
He finally nudged him when he went quiet for too long. “Ya don’t needa think that hard ‘bout it. I meant it exactly how it sounds.”
Tobio made a noise of acknowledgement, somewhere in the back of his throat. He really was too adorable when he was confused.
Much to his amazement, Tobio did not question him on the way there, even when they had to climb up to the seventh floor. Their footsteps echoed down the vacant corridors, the only sound in the castle, out of sync. Atsumu shoved his hands in the pockets of his robes and didn’t try to make conversation.
People had always told him he talked too much. Osamu, his parents, his friends, his teachers. It didn’t faze him. He always said what was on his mind, and he said what he meant. None of that bullshit about keeping things to himself. In fact, the entire school knew him as the more obnoxious Miya twin—he would beg to differ, since Osamu could be way more obnoxious when they were getting heated about something—but an unfamiliar feeling had settled over the two of them and crawled into his throat, clawing and shouting at him to abort mission. In the back of his mind, Atsumu vaguely recognized it as feeling awkward.
He hadn’t felt awkward for the longest time. For the first time in forever, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
Much later than he would’ve liked, they ended up in an empty hallway, facing a blank stone wall. Tobio looked at him expectantly, perhaps even a little disappointed, like he had gotten his hopes up for nothing.
“What is this supposed to be?”
“Don’t tell me ya haven’t heard of this, either.” Atsumu grabbed Tobio’s arm and gestured to the wall, ignoring how Tobio shied away from his grip. “It’s the Room of Requirement. We’re in great need of a chessboard.”
Tobio seemed unimpressed, even after all the explanation. “There’s nothing there,” he said.
“Well, yeah, Tobio-kun, for now. Ya have to walk past this wall three times and think of what ya need. Ain’t it cool?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I guess.”
“Yer a hard man to please, Tobio-kun. Suppose I’ll just have to show ya.”
Atsumu tightened his hold on Tobio’s arm, even though Tobio let out a soft grunt of pain. He dragged him across the hallway once, twice, trying to stifle his smirk when Tobio tried to protest. How cute, was his first thought. He was sure that wasn’t usually a word associated with the scowling Keeper. “Miya-san, I don’t see why we need to—”
“ Shh . Ya just needa see it yerself.”
Tobio was glowering, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His forehead was wrinkled, and his mouth was drawn into a tiny frown. Atsumu found himself staring a little too long.
The wooden door appeared after several seconds, and he tore his eyes away, relieved and horrified at the same time. Atsumu released him too quickly, sending Tobio stumbling into the wall. “Oi, what did I tell ya? It works!”
Tobio stared at him, unamused, as if to ask if that was really necessary. Atsumu lifted his chin and brushed past him to try the door handle. It gave easily, leading to a room that was dimly lit, covered in a warm, inviting glow. In one corner sat a table with the wizard chessboard, a velvet armchair on either side, a place to convene and hang out. Behind that was a fireplace, the burning flames dancing and waving, as if to greet them inside. In the other corner of the room was what appeared to be a queen-sized bed, which was strange, but Atsumu didn’t look at it long enough to care. He just chose one of the armchairs, sinking into the plush velvet and sighing.
“Funny what magic can do for ya.” He tipped his head to the side. Tobio was still standing in the doorway, brow furrowed, eyes flicking around the room. “Come on, Tobio-kun, let’s play some chess.”
He seemed hesitant, but Tobio entered the room anyway, shutting the door behind him. He took the seat opposite Atsumu and stared down at the chess pieces as if he was looking over a particularly hard test. “Are we allowed to be in here?”
“Whatcha mean?”
Tobio gestured around. “Using the Room of Requirement.”
Atsumu shrugged. “No one said we couldn’t. ‘Samu and I found it by accident, ya know. Runnin’ from one of the professors and a door suddenly appeared. Was a much smaller room back then.” He wanted to tease him about being a goody-two shoes a second time, but he thought Tobio might take it to heart, and that was more trouble than it was all worth. He just waved his hand and moved one of his pawns.
“How come the room was smaller?”
“The room changes or somethin’. I’ve been in here a couple times before and it’s always looked different. Depends on what ya need at the time.”
Tobio’s mouth opened in an o. He looked interested, but he didn’t say anything. He just leaned forward in his armchair and began scrutinizing the pieces. Atsumu propped his chin up in his hand and took the opportunity to really look at him.
Tobio frowned even more when he was concentrating, but everyone knew that was his usual face. He could probably have more girls running after him with love potions if he would just stop looking so damn unapproachable. Hell, Atsumu had a lot of girls chase after him with love potions, and even though he was quick to turn them down, it was nice to feel seen. Despite that, he had to admit that Tobio wasn’t a bad-looking guy. His hair was nice, for one, and he had the bluest eyes Atsumu had ever seen. They were like little pools of ocean blue, so expressive yet so sharp, always holding some kind of judgement, but nice eyes nevertheless. He wondered if Tobio knew that most people would kill to have his eyes. Atsumu had wanted blue eyes since he was—
“Your turn,” Tobio said. His tone was terse. Atsumu nearly jumped. Tobio was staring back at him, one eyebrow raised, as if not to back down from a challenge.
“Yeah, yeah.” He sighed again and reached for one of his pawns. “Looks like it is.”
Atsumu won the match again, although Tobio had some good plays. Dragging him up to the seventh floor of the castle was worth seeing the scowl on his face as they cleared off the board.
“I’ll win the next one,” Tobio promised. It seemed his competitive streak extended to all aspects of his life, whether it be Quidditch or wizard chess. This just made Atsumu smirk.
“We’ll see ‘bout that, Tobio-kun.”
They were halfway through their second match when Atsumu first noticed that Tobio was nodding off. He would lean back in his seat while Atsumu was pondering his next play and shut his eyes, head lolling off to the side. It happened more and more frequently as the match progressed, and Atsumu found himself questioning whether or not he should bring it up. Tobio didn’t look like he wanted to quit playing, after all—he was just tired. He looked less intense when he was sleepy.
He decided not to say anything. If Tobio didn’t figure out his new strategy, the match would be over in a few minutes, anyway.
Atsumu was moving his knight when it happened. “Yer move,” he said as he glanced up, and was instantly met with the startling sight of Tobio sleeping.
His black hair had shifted to fall across his forehead, and his head was tipped back across the back of the armchair, mouth hanging open. Tobio seemed at peace this way, no frown or glare present on his face, just another fifth year who fell asleep while playing a match of wizard chess. He almost looked younger than he was. It was like everything that had ever made him irritated had vanished into thin air.
He was so, so cute.
This realization struck Atsumu like a bolt of lightning, and in his panic, he coughed as loudly as he could, trying to wake up Tobio without touching him. Nope, he was not dealing with this. Atsumu didn’t harbor any sort of romantic feelings for his classmates—his classmates were the ones with crushes on him . He especially didn’t harbor feelings for guys like fucking Kageyama Tobio, a Gryffindor , who didn’t know what teasing was and took everything far too seriously. Granted, Tobio wasn’t a bad opponent in chess or Quidditch, and he was a pretty attractive guy, but still—
Tobio moved in his seat until his head was in a more comfortable position, a tiny frown on his face.
Oh, fuck it.
“Tobio-kun,” he whispered. If Osamu were here, that bitch, he would probably say something about how he didn’t know Atsumu could speak so quietly. “Ya gotta get up.”
“Ten minutes,” came his delayed reply.
“That’s what my brother says in the morning, ya know. He says he’ll get up in ten minutes, but he doesn’t get up for ‘bout thirty. He’s a lazy piece of shit.”
Tobio made some kind of noncommittal sound, clearly unimpressed.
Atsumu exhaled. He didn’t know when he had been blessed with such patience to deal with this.
“Okay, then. I’ll just move ya to the bed over there. Yer gonna get a crick in yer neck if ya sleep like that.”
He knew Tobio was out of it when all he got was a half-nod. Atsumu didn’t give himself any time to wonder what exactly he was doing before he was getting to his feet, slinging one of Tobio’s arms over his shoulders. Tobio let out a soft groan, burying his face in Atsumu’s chest. Atsumu pretended his cheeks weren’t flushing crimson as he dragged him across the large room, staring pointedly at the wall. They stumbled together like lovers after a long night, as if they had done this countless times before.
He pulled back the sheets and dumped Tobio unceremoniously onto the bed. Tobio rolled over, and for a moment, it looked like he wasn’t going to say anything—come on, Atsumu deserved at least a thank you for his troubles—but then he was grabbing for Atsumu’s wrist, tugging him closer. Atsumu’s eyes widened in surprise as he lurched forward. He had to brace his knees against the bed to avoid falling on top of him.
“Tobio-kun, what do ya think yer—”
“Quit moving,” Tobio grumbled, sounding every bit of the stupid Gryffindor he was, since normal people didn’t try to take naps with people they barely knew .
“I’m not gonna quit movin’ .” Perhaps Tobio was not as goody-goody as he thought. He had the guts to pull such a ridiculous stunt. “Maybe ya should just go back to yer common room. Curfew must be approachin’, anyway.”
If Tobio’s face wasn’t half-buried in a pillow, he probably would have been rolling his eyes. “You can go back if you want. I don’t really care.”
And that was the irritating thing about Tobio. He never beat around the bush, so Atsumu doubted he’d ever told a single lie in his life.
Gritting his teeth, he slid back the covers of the bed and slipped into the bed beside Tobio. It must have been because Tobio said he didn’t care, and Atsumu always enjoyed proving him wrong. Not because he wanted to make him care or anything like that.
For a long moment, Tobio was dead silent. Atsumu has never been one to get anxious, yet he found himself holding his breath, trying to judge the other boy’s expression out of the corner of his eye. He must have been getting soft.
At last, Tobio whispered, “We have to be close.”
Atsumu frowned. “We are,” he said. They were already lying closer together than he’d intended—almost touching, but not quite. He could feel Tobio’s warmth all down his left side, burning like the sun’s touch, an act of rebellion in itself. Tobio cracked open an eye and stared at him, like the answer was obvious. He had a bad habit of making people like Atsumu look stupid, and no matter what Suna or Osamu or Sakusa said, he was actually pretty smart.
“No, I meant—” Then Tobio was surrounding him, everywhere at once, head buried in his neck, hands coming up to rest on his chest. Tobio sighed and shut his eyes again, like he wasn’t capable of shaking the earth Atsumu stood on. “Close,” he muttered again.
Oh, God. Atsumu was done for.
He wondered for a moment if he should try to interject, but he was only met with a soft snore from the boy lying on his chest. Against his own will, he lifted his hand and threaded it through Tobio’s hair, making himself comfortable. It had been a long time since Atsumu had followed something anyone had told him to do, either deliberately or by accident, but he supposed that just this once, he could make an exception. Curfew be damned.
Tobio was really something special.
A few minutes later, his own eyes were sliding shut. Atsumu was horrified. He couldn’t really be contemplating falling asleep with Tobio, in some magical room where they were supposed to play a couple matches of wizard chess and be done for the night. But there was something about the steady heartbeat against his and Tobio’s quiet snores that made his eyes close and his free hand press into the small of Tobio’s back, his chest heavy, his stomach turning. As he promised himself he would only sleep for a few moments, a burning feeling pooled in his gut that he refused to name.
He woke up later to Tobio’s bleary eyes blinking at him. “Whaddya need?” Atsumu murmured. His voice was hoarse, like they’d just been making out instead of sleeping. Something ridiculous like that.
“We’re out past curfew,” Tobio explained. Clearly, he hadn’t thought this through before deciding to drag Atsumu into the bed with him.
“Mmm. I know.”
“We should go back.”
“Okay,” Atsumu agreed. Neither of them moved.
He seized the moment to stare at Tobio, really stare at him, openly and without shame, not caring whether Tobio noticed or not. Tobio hadn’t budged from his chest, although he had turned his head to the side, lips brushing against his collarbone, sending jolts of electricity down his side. His eyes had closed again, like he’d made a home on top of Atsumu and didn’t care to move anymore. Tobio was strange when he was sleepy. He still said what he meant, not beating around the bush, but it was like his body didn’t keep up with his words.
“Ya know,” Atsumu started, and then stopped. His voice was still raspy from their nap. “Since it’s past curfew, we might get in trouble for bein’ out in the corridors, right?” Tobio had opened his eyes, his eyebrows knitting together. Before he could say something stupid, Atsumu continued, “And if we get in trouble, they’ll deduct house points from Slytherin and Gryffindor. They might even ban us from doin’ Quidditch when classes start again. We might as well just stay here, don’tcha think, Tobio-kun?”
Stay here, with Tobio’s breath on his skin and his arms wrapped loosely around his neck. Stay here under these warm sheets, where no one would interrupt them and it was just the two of them in the world. That was the best nap Atsumu had ever taken, for as long as he could remember. He knew Tobio was thinking the same.
Tobio only hesitated for a second. Then he curled back into Atsumu’s chest. “Okay,” he said. Atsumu was too tired to care what he said, as long as Tobio stayed where he was. “Just a few more hours.”
Just a few more hours, Atsumu thought, before the darkness dragged him under again. It was supposed to be a one-time thing.
At the crack of dawn, when Tobio yanked him out of bed and told him that they needed to get to the Great Hall for breakfast, his eyes were still bleary, hair a little out of place, and Atsumu caught himself staring again. Perhaps he wouldn’t mind this being a two-time thing.
They arrived at the Great Hall together, and Suna and Osamu both cackled like children when they noticed Atsumu’s messy hair. He ignored them and took his rightful spot at the Slytherin table, reaching for a plate. “Shut up, ya idiots.”
“Betcha had fun last night,” Suna managed in between snorts of laughter.
“I said, shut yer trap! Tobio-kun and I didn’t do anythin’. We played some wizard chess and that was it.”
“I never said you were with Tobio-kun. Just that you had fun.” The glint in his eye turned mischievous. “Are you saying that he was with you all night?”
“Didja have fun movin’ all yer pieces with him?” Osamu asked innocently, staring down at his plate. For the love of God, he was a terrible brother. Atsumu wondered again how people could think Osamu was the better twin when he was really just the same.
“I hate ya both. ‘Samu, yer hair looks like ya got trampled by elephants in yer sleep, so ya shouldn’t talk. And none of ya should be callin’ him Tobio-kun. That’s my name for him.”
Suna and Osamu proceeded to start crowing Tobio-kun and refused to stop until Sakusa arrived and shot them all a deadly look that meant he was trying to figure out a good way to dispose of their bodies. Atsumu glared at his so-called friends for the remainder of breakfast and definitely did not look over at the Gryffindor table more times than he could count. Tobio was sitting with the same people from yesterday, drinking the same brand of milk. Once or twice, he met his eye, but each time, Tobio whipped his head around and stared pointedly at his food, flushing a deep red. He must have been either flustered or embarrassed. Atsumu couldn’t help but find it adorable.
After he caught Osamu’s traitorous eyes squinting at him, like he knew exactly why Atsumu was distracted, he decided not to stare in that direction so much anymore. His cuddle session with Tobio was one that should be kept a secret—that much he knew.
He finished eating and went to the empty Quidditch pitch to practice flying with Sakusa. He was still ignoring his brother and Suna, much to their amusement. While he was on a broom, he could take his mind off their teasing and focus instead on the feeling of the wind rushing through his hair, the adrenaline that coursed through his veins when he made a clean, sharp turn midair. Flying came as naturally to him as breathing did. It had been ingrained in him so long that he barely needed to think about it anymore, so long that it was now a part of him, a piece of his identity. He knew Tobio could relate.
Tobio, Tobio, Tobio. Even when he wasn’t nearby, his thoughts couldn’t help but drift to him. His sleepy warmth, his rumpled hair, his drowsy eyes. Atsumu had never seen anything quite like it before.
After putting his broom away, he found Tobio and his friends hanging out in the courtyard. Not like he was looking for him or anything. Tobio was sitting against the stone wall, his usual scowl present, watching as Hinata and Nishinoya and Tanaka huddled in a group and clamored noisily, unassuming of the glares every student was sending their way.
“Tobio-kun, how’s it goin’?”
Tobio peered up at him with an expression that could have resembled boredom to anyone else, but Atsumu saw the interest on his face. He scooted over to let Atsumu sit beside him. “Just watching these dumbasses.”
He cracked a smile. “Why are they yakkin’ so loud?”
Tanaka answered for him. Of course he did. That guy had ears that could catch anything. “Kageyama’s birthday is tomorrow! We’re planning a party for him.”
Atsumu gaped. He whirled around to face Tobio, whose cheeks had reddened again. “Yer birthday is tomorrow? How come I didn’t know?”
Tobio rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I didn’t think anyone would care.”
“Are ya jokin’? Birthdays are important. Yer gonna be a whole year older, ya know. ‘Samu and I always share our cake.”
The corners of his lips curled upwards. It was the closest thing to a genuine smile he had ever given Atsumu. “People don’t usually do anything for my birthday.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “I’ve never had my own birthday cake before.” His voice was a little wistful.
Atsumu’s mind was spiralling in a million different directions at once. “Well, looks like we’ll have to change that.”
Tobio looked startled. “What?”
“Tell yer friends to leave the cake to me.” Not that he really had to, since Tanaka looked like he was eavesdropping again. “I’ll take care of it. Ya just take care of yerself and don’t worry ‘bout a thing.”
“But why ?”
He seemed genuinely confused. It warmed Atsumu’s heart like a furnace, flicking on all the lights under his skin.
“Tobio-kun, do I really need an excuse to be yer friend?”
Tobio stared at him like he was in shock, unmoving, rooted to the spot. Even Hinata seemed stunned. Atsumu smirked and shifted a little bit closer. He was sure no one had ever said something like that to Tobio before, at least not so directly, and he was proud that he could render him so speechless. Perhaps he was the first one who had.
“By the way,” he whispered, and his mouth was close to Tobio’s ear now, his warm breath ghosting over his neck. Tobio shuddered. He spoke softly enough that only the two of them could hear. “I’ll come to yer table after dinner. We can go to the Room of Requirement again.”
His face went pink. “Okay,” he managed to say. Atsumu shot one last smile over his shoulder before getting to his feet. As he crossed the courtyard, he could feel Tobio’s eyes burning holes into his back and grinned to himself.
He hadn’t even made it inside the castle again before Osamu intercepted him. He shouldn’t have even been surprised that his brother was lurking nearby.
“‘Tsumu, what are ya doin’ with Kageyama? Yer probably scarin’ him with yer ugly face.”
“‘Xcuse me, we have the same exact face!”
Osamu looked smug. “Not when yer doin’ that weird thing with your lips whenever you see him. It’s like yer tryin’ to seduce him with yer terrible smile.”
“Oh, shut up, ‘Samu!” He could mention something about Osamu’s not-so-secret crush on Suna, but he was a much better person than that. “Anyway, ya gotta make a birthday cake by tomorrow. I would really appreciate that.”
“Why would I make a birthday cake? It’s not even our birthday.”
“It’s Tobio-kun’s birthday tomorrow, and yer not bad in the kitchen! He said that he’s never had his own cake before. Ain’t that sad?”
Osamu rolled his eyes, but when he finally spoke, he didn’t sound as irritated as he looked. “On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“Ya need to stop tellin’ Suna those stories from when we went on vacation that one time. They’re so embarassin’.”
Atsumu squinted. “Okay, whatever. I’ll stop.” For now, he thought. Helping his brother out with his absurd crush for a bit was a small price to pay for giving Tobio a birthday he’d remember. He couldn’t believe that Osamu and Suna had never realized that they were so clearly pining for each other, perhaps even for years now. It was a little ridiculous.
At least he would still get a birthday cake.
That night, he stopped by the Gryffindor table again. Tobio didn’t seem as perplexed this time, probably because he’d warned him he was coming in advance. “Tobio-kun, ready to go?” He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to look as innocent as possible, especially with Tanaka and Nishinoya breathing down the back of his neck like demons. Even Sugawara, that seventh year who always looked so cheerful, was glaring at him, along with their captain. If he was being honest, these Gryffindors were really fucking scary.
“Yeah, we can leave.” Tobio stood up and looked at him expectantly. Atsumu tried not to make eye contact with anyone else as he ushered him out of the Great Hall as fast as possible. He didn’t want to be there any longer than he had to.
On their way up the stairs, he asked, “Do yer friends hate me?”
Tobio considered this. “Some of them,” he said. Well, then. That did wonders to boost Atsumu’s confidence.
“I didn’t think I was doin’ anythin’ wrong! I’ve been so nice to them.”
“You’re the Slytherin Keeper,” he pointed out. Of course his first thought was Quidditch. “Plus, Gryffindors and Slytherins don’t usually hang out.”
“Oh. come on, Tobio-kun, that’s so outdated! Not all Slytherins are murderous or somethin’. I’m a pretty friendly Slytherin, aren’t I?”
“I guess. You can be a little weird sometimes.”
He pulled a face. “Whaddya mean? I’m perfectly normal. Ya should see my brother.”
“No, I just meant…” Tobio exhaled, and then stuck out his bottom lip. “Because you want to be friends with me. People never say that they want to be friends with me.”
Atsumu blinked. He didn’t understand why people wouldn’t want to be friends with Tobio. Sure, he was too blunt most of the time, and he was always wearing that terrifying frown of his, but he was just a nice guy on the inside. A nice, attractive guy who liked to cuddle and could almost be considered a bigger wizard chess dork than he was.
“Tobio-kun, stop with that,” he murmured. “Yer a real good guy. Anyone would be lucky to have ya.”
Fuck, he didn’t mean it like that. Luckily, Tobio was as dense as ever, and they were just arriving at the corridor that hid the Room of Requirement. Atsumu started across the hallway and grabbed Tobio’s arm again, even though it wasn’t necessary. Tobio didn’t pull away.
The room looked the same as it had before, now that Atsumu knew exactly what to picture. He hesitated at the doorway, eyeing the bed in the corner that had started it all, but Tobio was already pushing past him, sinking into his armchair by the chessboard. “You start this time, Miya-san,” he said. If Atsumu didn’t know any better, he’d say it was like he had completely forgotten about how they’d cuddled together the previous night.
He sighed and dropped into his own armchair. “Whatever ya say, Tobio-kun.”
He was victorious again, but Tobio was closer to winning than before. Tobio looked even more determined as he set his pieces up again, his eyes wide, cheeks flushed.
“Again,” he said.
Atsumu stretched his arms over his head. “Don’tcha think we can—” He gestured with his chin in the direction of the queen-sized bed. Tobio just stared back at him, like he was at a loss. Atsumu tried again. “Do ya wanna cuddle, Tobio-kun?”
Tobio’s lips parted, and then he flushed. Atsumu watched, entranced.
“Sorry about yesterday,” he muttered, almost inaudible. “I was just really tired.”
“That’s not a no.” Atsumu wanted this cuddle. “And ya don’t need to apologize. I enjoyed it, ya know. A lot.”
Tobio was getting redder and redder by the second. “I’m not that sleepy, though.”
“I told ya we could just cuddle, after all. We don’t needa sleep. We’ll go back to our common rooms before curfew this time.”
Tobio looked at the board, then back at him. There was something in those blue eyes of his that almost seemed playful.
“If you beat me in this next match, I’ll cuddle with you,” he said.
Atsumu straightened up in surprise. That wasn’t what he had been expecting, but he was never one to back down from a challenge.
“Okay, yer on,” he agreed. He expected it to be an easy win, since every other time he’d played a match against Tobio, he’d ended up coming out on top. This should have been no different. But this time—
This time, Tobio won.
It was sometime between Tobio moving his knight and then the triumphant look on his face that Atsumu realized, for the first time in years, he was going to lose. It had snuck up on him like a shadow on the wall, nearly invisible, easy to miss, unless you had been looking hard. It was an unfamiliar feeling, this losing , and he sort of hated it, never wanted to feel it again, especially when he was doing something everyone knew he was good at—
He had finally met his match, but he felt a little lighter, too. Like the fire was back inside him again, just like that glint in Tobio’s eyes. No wonder Tobio always wanted to play another match. Losing just made you hungrier to win.
“Good job, Tobio-kun. Didn’t know ya had it in ya.”
Tobio smiled. For the first time, he offered Atsumu a genuine smile, and Atsumu took it, committed it to memory, pressed it to the deep recesses of his heart. Something fluttered inside his chest, warm and fuzzy.
“Good job, too, Miya-san.”
“How’d ya know I would do that move?” Atsumu was curious. He leaned forward to help Tobio reset the board. “What if I moved my queen instead of my pawn?”
Tobio shook his head. “I knew you wouldn’t,” he said. “When I’ve been backed up against the wall like that in the past, my first instinct was always to move the pawn. I figured yours would be, too. And besides—” He shot him another smile, more fleeting than last time. It did terrible things to Atsumu’s heart. “It’s what you did to me last time, so I did it right back.”
Atsumu just stared. He couldn’t help it this time.
My God, his mind was screaming. He’s a genius. The boy’s really a genius.
He stared so long that Tobio’s expression began to shift from pleased to concerned. No, that wasn’t good. “Are you okay, Miya-san?”
“Tobio…” His voice came out gravelly. “Yer amazin’.”
Tobio turned bright red. It was almost alarming, like he wasn’t breathing, and no , that wasn’t good, either. Perhaps he wasn’t complimented often.
“I… uh…”
Atsumu moved without thinking. He rose to his feet and reached for Tobio’s arm. Tobio let out a startled sound, somewhere in the back of his throat, but Atsumu was already dragging him over to the bed, pulling back the covers. “Cuddle with me,” he demanded. It wasn’t a question.
Tobio still looked like he wasn’t breathing, but he slipped under the covers anyway, hiding his burning face behind a pillow. Atsumu gently wrestled the pillow away and pulled Tobio into his chest, his free arm curling around his waist on instinct. Tobio squirmed against him, indignant, a wordless protest, but Atsumu had no intention of letting him go.
“How do ya do it, Tobio-kun?” he whispered into the top of Tobio’s head.
“Do what?” Tobio’s voice was muffled.
“Hmm. ‘M not gonna tell you. Ya can figure out what I mean on yer own.”
“But I don’t know what you’re—”
“Well, yer smart, aren’t ya? There are some things even I won’t say aloud.” He felt intoxicated, like that one time where he and Osamu had smuggled some beer out of the liquor cabinet in their house. They’d been so sick the day after. “‘Til then, ya should be fine.”
“But—”
“Stop it with that.” Against his better judgement, Atsumu angled his head down and nipped at the shell of Tobio’s ear. His words flowed out without a filter, thick and drowsy, burning hot and pinned against Tobio’s skin. “Told ya that ya would figure it out, didn’t I?”
Tobio went entirely slack in his arms. Atsumu pulled back hastily, eyes wide, wondering if he’d accidentally killed him. Maybe he had stopped breathing for too long. But when he pulled back Tobio’s face from where it was buried in his shirt, he took note of Tobio’s tinted cheeks, his wobbly smile. Atsumu laughed and pulled Tobio back into his chest, where they didn’t have to see each other.
“Happy birthday, ya big idiot.”
When Tobio finally spoke, he sounded confused. “It isn’t midnight yet.”
“Yeah, I know. I just wanted to be the first to greet you.”
As expected, Tobio was too flustered to answer. Atsumu just laughed again, soft and quiet, just like a sunny day’s breeze, something that was uncommon in December.
Tobio’s birthday started off with a bang. Atsumu forced his brother, Suna, Sakusa, and Komori to eat with him at the Gryffindor table again, where his presence was acknowledged, but not exactly appreciated. Either way, Tobio seemed to appreciate his existence, contrary to whatever nonsense Osamu was spewing. He sat next to him and accepted the dozens upon dozens of chocolate frogs that Atsumu had stolen from under Suna’s bed. Suna did not seem to realize they were his. If he had, Atsumu would’ve been hiding behind Sakusa.
At some point in the middle of breakfast, Nishinoya and Tanaka thought it would be a good idea to stand on top of the table and lead several classmates in singing happy birthday to Tobio. Their captain seemed done with them. Tobio just looked like he wanted to die. Atsumu kind of wanted to hug him and take him away, but he resisted the urge, at least in front of other people. Then Hinata figured that it was time to set off some Muggle firecrackers he’d gotten his hands on before, and the entire Great Hall was instantly shrouded in a haze of thick smoke, stretching from one end to the other. The only good thing that came out of it was that Ukai ended up deducting one hundred points from Gryffindor.
Tobio was so embarrassed that it was almost funny. However, Atsumu thought he caught the glimpse of a tiny grin on his face, like he didn’t entirely hate it. It was a little cute.
After much debate, Tanaka grudgingly informed him that they were going to hold Tobio’s birthday party at the lake, where the water had frozen over again. “Invite your brother or whoever,” he grunted, waving his hand in the general direction of Osamu and the rest of his friends. He was making a stupid face, but Atsumu ignored it.
“We’ll be there,” he said.
So he dragged Osamu and Suna to the lake. Sakusa told him that there were going to be too many people there for his liking, and Komori had somehow escaped when he turned around again. Atsumu made his brother in charge of carrying the cake he had prepared, something Osamu grumbled and bitched about the whole way there.
“I’m not yer personal servant,” he said.
That was true, but Atsumu was more worried that he would drop the cake, so Osamu carrying it was a much better option. At least if it fell, he wasn’t the one who got the blame.
Either way, the cake made it safely to the party, on a table the Gryffindors had set up for the food. Tobio was standing by the end of the frozen lake with his friends, but he came over when Atsumu waved. “You really brought a cake.” He sounded happy.
“Well, anythin’ for ya, Tobio-kun!” He slung an arm around Osamu’s shoulder, who immediately shoved him away. “‘Samu made it, and he knows his way around ingredients!”
To his surprise, Tobio turned and faced Osamu. “Thank you for the cake, Miya-san!” he said loudly, and dropped down into a bow that was almost perfectly parallel to the ground. Osamu’s eyes widened, and he waved his hand, trying to get the boy to come back up.
“Ya don’t have to do that, it wasn’t that big of a deal—”
Tobio shot back up, but by then, someone else was calling his name. He sent an apologetic look Atsumu’s way as he hurried off in the other direction: See you later.
Osamu laughed as he watched Tobio go, not unkindly. “He’s so polite, huh? Why are you tryin’ to taint him?”
“I’m not taintin’ him. He’s just a nice kid.” He exhaled. “Ain’t it annoying that we’re both ‘Miya-san?’”
“Tell him to call ya Atsumu, then. Just like everyone else does.”
“Tried that already. He’s just too damn polite.”
From behind him, Suna shrugged. “He seems to consider you a friend now.”
A pleasant feeling pooled in Atsumu’s chest, warm and liquid, dripping down to his gut. Tobio, who couldn’t talk to people well, thought of him as a friend, after only a short amount of time. Atsumu turned to face his friends with a new flush in his cheeks, ready to gush, but Osamu saw the look on his face and scoffed, reaching over to smack him in the back of his head.
“Save it for later,” he grumbled, and started making his way towards the snacks, Suna in tow. Atsumu rolled his eyes and trailed behind them.
It was a fairly large gathering, considering that most students had gone home during the holidays. There was Bokuto from Hufflepuff, who was entertaining but far too loud, and where there was Bokuto, there was Akaashi and Kuroo. There was also Kenma, who wasn’t bad on a broom but had never joined the Quidditch team, and even Ushijima, who he wasn’t even aware was friends with Tobio. Everyone was gathered around the lake, talking and laughing, bundled up against the cold in their robes and respective House scarves. It was a nice party, rather fitting for what was potentially Tobio’s first birthday celebration.
After a while, he found Tobio again, and the two of them talked with Hinata, who was still annoying, but not as unbearable as Atsumu had thought before. Hinata was talking a mile a minute, sharing some story about him and his little sister, when Nishinoya came over and nudged him with the end of a broomstick. Atsumu looked up from where he was sitting.
“Everyone wants to see you and your twin race,” he said. “It was Tanaka’s idea!”
Hinata perked up at the mention of a race. “Can I go, too?”
Atsumu accepted the broomstick. “After me, shrimp.”
“I’m not a shrimp! I can fly faster than you.”
Tobio snorted, watching as Atsumu mounted the broomstick. “Good luck, Miya-san,” he said. He was really too adorable.
“Thanks, Tobio-kun, but I don’t need luck. I’ll win this, quick and easy.”
Osamu, who was hovering nearby on another broomstick, raised an eyebrow. “Ya wish, dumbass.”
“Shut up, ‘Samu!”
The race was to the end of the lake and back—whoever was the first to return won. Osamu shot Atsumu a dangerous smile before surging ahead on his broom. Atsumu focused his attention on the lake ahead of him, the wind pushing back his hair, hands gripping the end of his broomstick tightly. The two of them had raced countless times before, the victor fluctuating often, and he would be damned if he lost to his brother in front of his classmates.
They flew so quickly that the world became one big blur, like a painter splashing random colors on a canvas. Atsumu leaned forward to fly even faster, and as he stared at the other end of the lake, where everyone was hollering and jumping, he swore that the only thing he could see was the blue when it was in Tobio’s eyes—
Before he knew it, he had crossed the lake again, Osamu right behind him.
Atsumu landed on the ground, panting. His cheeks were flushed red with exhilaration as he pointed at his brother. “Ha, told ya!”
Osamu rolled his eyes again. “Ya must’ve cheated.”
“I didn’t cheat!”
A tap came on his shoulder. It was Tobio, who stared at him with a resolute expression on his face.
“Let’s race,” he said. There was that same tone in his voice, the one he had used when he challenged Atsumu to that fateful game of wizard chess. If you beat me in this next match, I’ll cuddle with you.
Atsumu shot him a lazy smile, one that had Tobio’s face flushing, even though his own heart was thumping out of control, too. “Okay, we’ll race,” he agreed. Then, in a teasing voice, “Do ya want a head start, or…”
“We have to start at the same time, though.”
Tobio might have been a year older than he was before, but he still didn’t understand what a joke was. He sighed and reached out, intending to ruffle Tobio’s hair.
Instead, what happened was that his hand accidentally ended up cupping Tobio’s cheek, and Tobio blinked up at him the same way he had when they woke up after their first nap together, leaning into his touch. Tobio’s skin was scarlet and feverish under his palm, a result of his blushing, and Atsumu fought back the urge to pull him into a hug, right then and there.
He was snapped back into reality when Osamu—stupid, irritating Osamu—coughed. It was only then that he realized his brother was holding out his broomstick for Tobio to use. Without looking away, Atsumu reached for the broom and handed it to Tobio himself.
“Don’t go easy on me,” he said.
Tobio frowned. “I wouldn’t offer to race you if I wasn’t giving it my all.” It was exactly what Atsumu expected him to say, yet it was so right.
They lined up in the spot where the solid ground met the frozen lake. Hinata did the counting down, and then they were off, rushing through the sky and leaving clouds of dirt in their wake. Tobio was determined, leaning forward on his broomstick, matching him at his pace. Atsumu wondered how much Tobio must have practiced on the Quidditch pitch, if he could fly this fast. As expected, just like in their chess competitions, Tobio was a great opponent.
The two of them crossed the lake and whipped around to head back to the start. For a couple seconds, Tobio pulled ahead of him, and Atsumu squinted, speeding up. All he could see was the back of Tobio’s head, a soft, indistinct shape in this vague, blurry world. They crossed the finish at the same time and then stumbled to the ground, sweaty despite the cold. Atsumu exhaled in a puff of cold air, chest heaving, and managed to clap a hand on Tobio’s back.
“We should race again. That was a tie. I can do better than that.”
“Let’s do it again,” Tobio agreed.
Tanaka scoffed. “Come on, Kageyama, let your upperclassmen have some fun.” Him and Nishinoya were already reaching for their broomsticks, which Atsumu didn’t want to let go of. “We want to race, too.”
Tobio seemed hesitant, but he handed his broomstick over. Atsumu finally managed to catch his breath and watched as Tanaka and Nishinoya lined up at the lake, the same spot where they’d taken off from just minutes before.
“I hate ties,” Atsumu amended.
“Me, too.”
“Should we settle it in some other way?”
“What do you mean?”
Atsumu turned to smile at him. “Wizard chess, of course.”
Tobio tilted his head. “Why not?”
It was a step in his winter break routine now, talking to Tobio and challenging him to yet another round of chess. He reached for Tobio’s arm and started to turn in the direction of the castle, but Tobio dug his heels in the ground, forcing him to stop in his tracks.
“What’s wrong?”
“We can’t just sneak away from my party!”
Atsumu sighed and released him. “Yer right,” he said. “It’s yer birthday. Haven’t even tried the cake yet, have ya?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, we can’t have that!” He gripped Tobio’s shoulder again, pulling him in the direction of the food table. “‘Samu ain’t a bad chef. Told him to make a cake ‘specially for ya, since yer birthday is so important.”
Tobio reddened. It was a lovely color on him.
“It’s not that important. I thought you would just buy a cake or something. Not make one.”
“Of course it’s important, Tobio-kun. Yer an important person, so stop puttin’ yerself down like that.”
His cheeks darkened again. Atsumu wished they could go back to the Room of Requirement sooner.
They wound up staying at the party for a long time. Atsumu only agreed because Tobio looked so excited— not because he was “so whipped,” in Suna’s words. He tried to occupy his time by chatting with some other people there, but he was restless, eyes wandering the party. When Tobio finally materialized by his side, he was officially going out of his mind.
“Tobio-kun,” he blurted out, relieved.
“Yes?”
Atsumu reached for his wrist, pulling him flush against his side. He sort of hoped that no one around them would notice, but at the same time, he didn’t really care.
“Come on,” he whispered.
The two of them stumbled through the castle, Atsumu dragging him forward, as he’d learned to do over the past couple of days. At some point, his grip had slipped from Tobio’s wrist and intertwined with his fingers. Tobio pinkened, and his hand was a little clammy, but Atsumu didn’t mind. He was clutching his hand just as tightly.
For the first time, he hated that the Room of Requirement was on the seventh floor.
They ran all the way to their corridor. Once they climbed the staircases, they were more out of breath than when they had raced each other. Atsumu panted and started across the hallway, but then Tobio was pulling him to the wall, pinning him against it. His eyes were sharp and focused, but there was still a flush rising high on his cheeks.
“Just a second,” Tobio breathed out. Before Atsumu knew it, he was surrounded by Tobio again, Tobio, Tobio—Tobio’s head buried in his neck, his arms around his waist. How impatient he was. There was just something about him that was so impossible to resist.
“Tobio-kun, let me open the Room, okay? We’re right here already.”
His voice was soft, like they were abiding to some unspoken agreement that they couldn’t speak too loud. Tobio grunted and tightened his grip. It seemed like he didn’t care that they were standing in the hallway, where anyone could see them. To be fair, Atsumu didn’t care that much, either.
“Hang on, Tobio-kun. Ya gotta let go. It’ll only take a few seconds.”
“Miya-san,” he groaned against his skin.
Atsumu was going to go crazy, and it was all this boy’s fault.
He forced himself away from Tobio’s koala-like grip, even though his heart dropped at the way Tobio let out a sound of protest. “Just hang on,” he whispered. He wondered if Tobio could see the heat in his gaze, the piercing darkness of his eyes.
Tobio swallowed, but he nodded.
Atsumu pictured the nicest room he could as he sprinted across the corridor. He wanted to give him everything for his birthday, this grouchy boy who wasn’t even that grouchy, this wizard chess dork, the Keeper who kept his heart. For the first time, he wondered if this little attraction had gone from something harmless to something more, but he pushed that to the back of his mind as the wooden door appeared. He looked at Tobio, a hungriness in his eyes, and pulled him to his chest again.
Tobio realized the room was different as they shuffled to the bed, which was now in a new location. “Holy shit,” he whispered.
“Hmm?”
“It changed.”
The Room of Requirement had transformed from a cozy little nook to a bedroom that looked like it was fit for a prince. Countless paintings hung on the walls, most by famous Muggle artists that even Atsumu could name, and the furniture was washed in a warm sheen from the giant chandelier overhead. The bed itself sat in the middle of the room, king-sized instead of queen-sized, with sheets that looked even silkier than the last. He eyed Atsumu with suspicion, knowing that he was the one who’d pictured it differently this time, but even though he didn’t say anything, he looked grateful. That was enough for him.
He pulled Tobio down to the bed once they got close enough. Tobio was underneath him, breathing hard, staring up at him with those blue, blue eyes. Atsumu let himself fall forward, one hand planted on the sheets next to Tobio’s head, bracing himself up. Their mouths were close this way, close enough to touch, if either of them would lean forward just slightly. Tobio was turning a deep shade of red, chest heaving up and down, but Atsumu just smirked and let himself roll off of him. Tobio made a vague noise that resembled disappointment.
He wondered how they’d gotten from wanting to have a rematch to cuddling in a room that looked like it could’ve hosted royalty. There wasn’t even a chessboard here—he’d forgotten to picture it. He couldn’t tell if Tobio had noticed or not.
Either way, Tobio seemed content. He tucked his head back in Atsumu’s chest and let Atsumu’s fingers thread through his hair. His breath came out in soft pants.
“Didja have a good birthday?”
“Great birthday.”
“Liked the cake?”
“I liked it.”
“Good,” he murmured. He let his other arm wrap around Tobio. “I’m glad.”
The corners of Tobio’s lips lifted upwards. “Thank you, Miya-san.”
“Well, ya gotta stop with that. It’s Atsumu, not ‘Miya-san.’ Ya can call my brother that, not me.”
He paused for a second, and then tried it on for size. “Atsumu-san.”
Atsumu would take what he could get.
Christmas snuck up on him without a warning. Atsumu had always been so eager to open presents in the past. Now he was just as eager, but he was busier this year, too—flying on his broom with his friends in the morning, spending his afternoons and evenings with Tobio, mostly in the Room of Requirement. They spent their time together either cuddling or playing wizard chess, and today was no exception, even though it was a holiday. It was after dinner, and Tobio hadn’t yet said anything about going back, so Atsumu was determined to spend the night again. They hadn’t spent the entire night together since that first day.
Tobio was curled up in his armchair again, looking more relaxed than Atsumu had ever seen him. The Room has reverted back to its cozy state, the one with the warm fireplace and wizard chessboard. His eyebrows were scrunched together as he contemplated his next move. For what had to be the fiftieth time that day, Atsumu caught himself staring.
He leaned back in his chair. Tobio wasn’t even looking back at him—he had never felt Tobio’s eyes lingering on him while he pretended not to pay attention. Tobio was just too dense for his own good.
“I have another idea,” he found himself saying.
Tobio raised an eyebrow without looking up. “What?”
“I’ll make ya a bet. Whoever loses each match gets to ask the other three questions. Ya have to answer honestly.”
Naturally, he agreed. It was a competition, after all. “What kind of questions do we ask?”
Atsumu thought about it. “Somethin’ interesting,” he decided. “Somethin’ ya really want to know about me. That is, if ya win.”
Tobio almost looked offended. “Of course I’ll win.” He genuinely believed it. It seemed that this was just a part of who he was, this natural affinity for victory. The two of them were similar in that way.
“We’ll see ‘bout that, Tobio-kun.”
Atsumu took the first match. Tobio sat back in his seat as Atsumu cleared the board, his lips drawn into a frown. “You get to ask me questions now?”
He looked like a petulant child. Atsumu couldn’t help but grin.
“Ya agreed to it, Tobio-kun.”
“I don’t know why you’d want to ask me questions about myself. I’m not hiding anything.”
The boy was brutally honest. At least he knew he wouldn’t be lying on any of his answers.
“It’s for fun. We’ll just ask each other dumb things and learn more about each other. Spices the match up a little bit, don’tcha think?”
“Maybe.”
Atsumu sighed and thought for a second. “I’ve got one.”
“Go ahead.”
“Wouldja rather have feet for hands or hands for feet?”
Tobio looked mildly disgusted. “That’s weird.”
“That’s the whole point.”
He took a long moment to come up with a response. Tobio was the kind of person who put a lot of meaning into everything he did, whether it was a Quidditch match or just a simple answer like this.
“Hands for feet,” he decided. “I want to be able to catch the Quaffles thrown at me.”
“Hmm.” Atsumu’s voice was light, teasing. “As expected of a star Gryffindor Keeper.”
Tobio flushed. He seemed more into their little game now. “You asked me to answer the question.”
“I know. I’m not making fun of ya.” He tipped his head back, staring up at the ceiling. The wooden boards were awash in a dim light. “Say, what’s yer favorite part of the day?”
“Hmm. Early morning.”
“Any particular reason?”
When Tobio finally spoke, his voice was quiet. “When the weather’s nice, I go out before breakfast and fly around the pitch during sunrise. The sky is all these different colors, and it’s like I have it to myself.” At Atsumu’s stunned expression, he reddened and backtracked. “Sorry. It sounds stupid.”
Atsumu was indignant as he sat up straight. “Tobio-kun, why would ya apologize for that? That sounds cool to me.”
Tobio lifted a shoulder. “Nobody asks me these questions.”
“Well, be prepared to answer more after the next round.”
He swore he saw him crack a smile.
The rest of the evening went on that way, trading off wins and answering truthfully. Tobio’s initial questions were about Quidditch until he seemed to realize he could ask Atsumu anything in the world. His questions were adorable, like what his favorite food was and what he really thought of Osamu. It was nice to spend time with him this way, chatting more than usual. After all, Atsumu was good at talking a lot—in his brother’s words, talking too much.
They must have spent hours in the Room. When it started to get late, Atsumu decided to be bold.
“For my last question,” he began. Tobio sat up, intrigued. Atsumu went for it. “Do ya have eyes for everyone?”
He flushed. “What?”
“Yeah, ya know—boys, girls, whoever.”
“I like Oikawa-san.”
Atsumu froze, knuckles white around his knight. He had said it so simply, it was like another fact of life: roses were red, violets were blue, his Tobio-kun had a crush on Oikawa Tooru. He was certain he must have heard wrong.
When he opened his mouth to speak, his voice came out low.
“Come again?”
Tobio looked slightly less sure of himself. “Oikawa-san,” he repeated. “He’s the Ravenclaw Keeper. You must know him. We grew up together.”
Of course Atsumu knew him. It was a ridiculous statement in itself—just like everyone knew him and Osamu as the troublemaker twins, everyone knew Oikawa as one of the best-looking guys in the school. He was a seventh year, one year above Atsumu, two years above Tobio. He could also be a bit of an asshole, but a lot of people had told him in the past that the two of them were similar, so he didn’t know if he was supposed to take it as a compliment or an insult.
Either way, he hated that Ravenclaw bitch more now.
“Oikawa-kun,” he echoed with disdain. His lips curled into a frown. “Well, does he like ya back?”
He hoped not. God, he hoped not.
Fortunately, all Tobio did was shrug again. “I don’t know,” he said, but his cheeks were dusted a light shade of pink. “He went home for the holidays. I never asked him.”
Don’t , then, Atsumu almost snapped, but that would mean Tobio might become suspicious of his intentions. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut and got to his feet, feigning exhaustion. Tobio rose from his armchair, too, sparing a sidelong glance towards the bed, like he was expecting them to cuddle next. His eyebrows knitted together when he saw Atsumu heading for the door.
“Atsumu-san? I thought we were spending the night here again.”
Holy fuck. This level of obliviousness should have been illegal. Someone should not have just been allowed to say things like that when they had a crush on someone else, a fucking seventh year, another Keeper. Atsumu’s heart burned.
“Sorry, Tobio-kun. Not tonight. It’s Christmas, after all—I’m gonna spend some more time with ‘Samu.”
“You were just saying that you didn’t want to see him any more than you had to.”
Atsumu smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Naturally, Tobio didn’t notice. “Well, he’s family.” What he meant to say was that it would have been better if he stayed home this winter break. None of this would have happened—he wouldn’t have played wizard chess with Tobio that first time, they wouldn’t have made the Room of Requirement their own, they wouldn’t have had their secret cuddling sessions, away from the prying eyes of their nosy classmates. Tobio wouldn’t have wiggled his way under his skin, something that no one had done for a long time. He wouldn’t have been standing in front of him on Christmas, trying to hold his heart together.
Perhaps it was going to be okay. Atsumu rarely had crushes—at least, ones that delved deeper than the surface—and this one was surely not going to be impossible to get over. Tobio wasn’t in Slytherin, and they weren’t even in the same year. All he would have to do was cleanse his mind of him, and after winter break, Atsumu would only need to see him in the hallways, dragging his feet on the way to class, trailing behind Hinata and Nishinoya and pretending to pay attention to their chatter. He would catch a glimpse of him on the other end of the Quidditch pitch during official matches, hovering in front of the hoops, the same intense look on his face that he even wore when he was drinking milk. When school started up again, Tobio only had to live in his memory. It would be like none of this ever happened.
Tobio hesitated. For a second, it looked like he was going to say something. Then he looked away.
“Goodnight, Atsumu-san.”
“Night, Tobio-kun. See ya tomorrow.”
Atsumu left him behind in the Room of Requirement, shuffling down the corridor with his hands in his pockets. The hallways were monochrome and dreary tonight, like an old, dusty lens had been placed over it. He made his way to the Slytherin common room and kept his mind perfectly clear.
When he dragged himself up to his dorm room, Osamu was sitting on his bed. He was waiting for him.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, and he tossed something fluffy in Atsumu’s direction. Atsumu managed to catch it. It was a scarf from Hogsmeade—Osamu hadn’t bothered wrapping it, but it looked like it must have cost a good amount of money. He’d already given Osamu the food he’d bought him in the morning.
“Thanks, ‘Samu. Merry Christmas, too.”
Osamu raised an eyebrow when Atsumu threw himself on the bed next to him, burying his face in his arms.
“What did ya do this time?”
“I didn’t do anything, dumbass. ‘M just tired.”
“Well, wake up, then. I still have to give ya somethin’.”
Atsumu sat up halfway. “What?”
Osamu took his time crossing the room, digging for something underneath his bed. Finally, he handed a package over to Atsumu. It was nicely wrapped this time, covered with red paper, and Atsumu immediately knew this present must have come from someone else.
“It’s from Kageyama,” Osamu said, before Atsumu even had the chance to ask. “He pulled me aside this morning and told me to give it to ya. Ya know, the guy you’ve been lusting after all break.”
“Shut up, ‘Samu! I’ll take back the food I gave ya this morning.”
“I’ll take back the scarf I got ya, then.”
“Rude!”
When Osamu finally left him alone, Atsumu looked over Tobio’s present. It was wrapped so well, he almost didn’t want to open it. He should have known that Tobio would treat wrapping with the same vigor he treated everything else in his life. Tobio didn’t know how to be anything else except for brutally himself, after all.
Inside the package was a new wizard chessboard to replace the run-down one he owned. When Atsumu checked, there was a note left with it.
I hope I can beat you with this new chess set sometime. Thank you for spending time with me this winter break. I’m glad we became friends, Atsumu-san.
Atsumu sighed and shoved the present under his bed, because friends didn’t lay tangled with each other in soft bedsheets the way they did.
He spent the rest of winter break flying over the Quidditch pitch, surging through the air from one end to the other. His friends joined him sometimes, but he was always there the longest. Osamu shot him strange looks—not annoyed, but a little curious. He knew something was wrong. It was probably a twin thing, unless Atsumu was a lot worse at hiding his feelings than he thought.
“What’s been goin’ on with ya?”
“Nothin’ happened, ‘Samu.” Every single time. “I’m perfectly fine.”
Osamu never bought the lie, but he never said anything, either.
Atsumu spent his afternoons and nights holed up in his room, even when most of the student body was busy visiting Hogsmeade and bringing back candy from Honeydukes. He laid on his bed and ignored looking at the chessboard he had pushed underneath it. He didn’t go back to the Room of Requirement, and he tried not to look at Tobio more than he had to.
His heart burned.
By the time classes started up again, Atsumu would have liked to say that he was over that tiny roadblock in his life. Now that he had homework and his other friends and his fangirls to occupy his time, it should have only been reasonable that he didn’t have to think of Tobio. The professors were piling on a lot of work, so he actually had to go to the library and study. Between that and practicing for Quidditch and the occasional detentions he was assigned for pulling some kind of prank on Osamu, Atsumu was busier than usual. He fell right back into the swing of things.
But that didn’t mean anything had changed. When he ran into Tobio outside the third floor bathroom, he found that his heart was thumping at an unnatural cadence. Atsumu’s cheeks flushed.
“Tobio-kun,” he managed. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, trying to look as casual as possible. “Haven’t seen ya around in a while.”
“You’ve been avoiding me,” was all Tobio said, blunt as always. It seemed he hadn’t changed, either.
“Well, I’ve just been busy. Ya know how it goes after we come back from break—lots of work to catch up on.”
Tobio did not look convinced. He hesitated, frowning at Atsumu. “Did you like the present I got you?”
“Oh, I loved it. Thanks for that, by the way. Haven’t found the chance to tell ya that.”
The last part was a lie, and they both knew it. Atsumu had been getting worse and worse at lying, ever since he’d gotten closer with Tobio. No one believed a word he said anymore.
Tobio shuffled on his feet and fiddled with the book he was holding, staring at some spot right next to Atsumu’s head. He couldn’t seem to meet his eye. Atsumu took the opportunity to study Tobio’s face, the way he’d wanted to since the last time they’d spoken, the way he used to do, without any regard of being noticed or not. His eyes were still just as blue, and he still wore that impassive mask. However, he was irritated at Atsumu—he’d never been annoyed with him before, even when Atsumu kept dragging him to the seventh floor of the castle.
Atsumu supposed he deserved that. After all, he was a bit of an asshole, too.
“Guess I’ll see ya around, Tobio-kun,” he finally said. He pushed away from the wall. “Talk to ya soon.”
Tobio did nothing but frown as he watched him go. Just like that, Atsumu spent the rest of the evening reminiscing upon the burning heat of Tobio’s skin, his quiet breaths in the middle of the night, how soft his lips looked in the dim light of the Room of Requirement. Tobio really was one of a kind. He was ridiculous but intelligent, a closed door that was really open, almost like a mirage. Atsumu had never met anyone quite like him.
It was around their second or third week back at school when Atsumu found himself yanked into an empty corridor during his walk to the Great Hall. “What the fuck,” he grumbled, before he turned and spotted the culprits: Tanaka, Nishinoya, and Hinata, the raucous Gryffindor trio. He hadn’t spoken to them since he started avoiding Tobio. “Can I help ya?”
Tanaka cracked a knuckle. Atsumu stared back at him, unflinching.
“Why are you ignoring Kageyama?” Nishinoya blurted out, interrupting their staredown.
Atsumu stiffened when he heard Tobio’s name. These meddlesome busybodies were not supposed to be a part of his day. “I’m not ignorin’ Tobio-kun. I just spoke with him a couple days ago.”
“Yeah, because you couldn’t run away that time! I didn’t take you for being a coward, Atsumu. He’d never say it to your face, but he’s really disappointed.”
He was not a coward. Atsumu sucked in a breath, preparing his argument, but before he could get a word out, Hinata was already butting in. He swore that shrimp was the only person who could talk as much as he did.
“Kageyama really liked hanging out with you! Now he feels like he did something wrong, you know. He didn’t say it, but we can tell.”
“Who cares?” Atsumu said sharply, which finally stopped the Gryffindors’ useless blabber. “He has Oikawa. And I’m on my way to eat breakfast, so if ya don’t have anythin’ good to say to me, ya should just get out of my way.”
For a long moment, the three of them looked at each other. A beat passed in silence. Then—mystery of all mysteries—Nishinoya decided to laugh .
It wasn’t just a simple laugh, either. He laughed loudly enough to wake up the entire castle, bending over to clutch at his stomach. Atsumu, with all his experience of dealing with annoying people, was thrown off-guard. If anything, they should have shut up and let him aside.
“What the hell is so funny?” he demanded.
Nishinoya gasped for breath, grabbing for Tanaka’s arm to keep him upright. “I’m sorry, it’s just—you’re hilarious, Atsumu! I can’t believe you!” He broke off into another fit of laughter. Atsumu wasn’t completely convinced this boy wasn’t crazy.
“What are ya yakkin’ about?”
He finally calmed down enough to answer. “You’re telling me that the only reason you aren’t speaking to Kageyama is because you’re jealous.” Nishinoya’s eyes glinted. “This is pure gold,” he continued, mostly to himself. “Pure comedy gold.”
Atsumu turned red. “Get lost, ya little shits,” he sputtered.
Tanaka laughed, hearty and loud. “You’re softer than I thought, Miya Atsumu. At least you show some spirit on the Quidditch pitch.”
“‘Xcuse me, I’ll demolish ya on that pitch,” he growled. “I don’t pay attention to scrubs who ain’t worth my time.”
Hinata beamed. “We look forward to beating you!”
Idiots , Atsumu concluded as he escaped the corridor, leaving three hysterical boys in his wake. Tobio is friends with idiots. Of course, he expected nothing less from Gryffindors.
Knowing that Tobio missed him made him feel better. His heart was warmed by the sentiment. Atsumu wondered if maybe he was being a little too petty, and if he should try to dial back the bitterness. After all, he and Tobio were friends. Friends weren’t supposed to ignore each other for this long.
However, that morning also turned out to be the same morning Tobio and Oikawa walked to breakfast together. They waltzed in with their heads bent in conversation, gesturing with their hands as they talked. Atsumu stared at the back of Tobio’s head and picked at his food until Suna and Sakusa started looking at him weirdly. Things had been so much easier when Oikawa was home for the holidays, out of the picture.
Tobio had said the two of them had grown up together. Perhaps their families were close. Perhaps they’d known each other since they were in diapers—Atsumu wrinkled his nose at that thought, stabbing at his breakfast with his fork. Maybe Oikawa knew Tobio like the back of his hand, all his ins and outs, all the things that made him tick. He hoped he treated him right, exactly how Tobio deserved to be treated—that he opened doors for him and offered his jacket when it got cold and kept up a good competition in wizard chess.
Either way, Atsumu was sure that Tobio had never looked at anyone the way he did when he’d pulled Tobio onto the bed after his birthday party. Tobio had stared at him like he’d wanted to be devoured, as though Atsumu was the only thing he could see. There was no way Tobio had ever looked at Oikawa like that.
Before Atsumu knew what he was doing, he was slamming his fork down, rising from the Slytherin table. Osamu stood, too, catching the look on his face. “‘Tsumu, can ya stop bein’ stupid for two seconds, please?”
There was the same underlying note of concern in his voice, one that Atsumu had been catching onto for the past couple of weeks. Today was the first time he stopped to really think about it. It was so out of character for Osamu to be so genuinely worried he was doing something stupid—it only happened sometimes—and it was so removed from the usual, he nearly stopped in his tracks. Grudgingly, Atsumu had to admit that, despite their differences, Osamu was always there when he needed him the most. The stupid, inexplicable need to console his twin burst in his chest like a dam.
He clapped a hand on Osamu’s shoulder. Osamu stared at it in surprise.
“‘Samu, ya don’t need to be so worried ‘bout me!” Osamu scrunched his nose up, like he was about to snap back with something witty, but he plowed on. “Listen, I’m actually gonna stop bein’ stupid, so ya don’t needa hold me back.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Osamu muttered under his breath.
“Shut up! I’m bein’ serious.”
“I don’t like this new look on ya. Ya seem dumber than usual.”
“What are you doing?” Komori asked.
Atsumu shot him a smirk over his shoulder and let his gaze linger on the door to the Great Hall, where Tobio and Oikawa were still talking. “Something I should have done a long time ago.”
He took his time weaving through the student traffic between the tables, trying to think of what he would say when he reached Tobio. A sudden thought dug its way into his mind, that the crazy Gryffindor trio would be proud of him for this, but Atsumu pushed it aside with a scoff. Since when did he care about what random people thought of him?
Either way, it was nice to know that Tobio had people who cared so much about his well-being—people that were willing to get their knuckles bloody for him—even if he hadn’t realized it yet. (People that weren’t Oikawa fucking Tooru.)
He found himself standing in front of the doors before he could decide on what to say. Tobio just blinked at him, at a loss for words. Oikawa, on the other end, eyed him with suspicion. His brown hair was perfectly styled in a way that screamed he cared too much about what his classmates thought of him. Atsumu couldn’t help but note that his stupid Ravenclaw robes were the exact same shade as Tobio’s eyes.
He grinded his teeth together. “Oikawa-kun,” he said.
Oikawa regarded him coolly. He almost seemed expressionless, but his eyes were wide and calculating, always moving. How strange it was to see him this way. Whenever Atsumu saw him in the hallway, he was either surrounded by a cluster of girls or his Ravenclaw friends. However, this was the look he reserved for his opponents in Quidditch, when he was contemplating the best way to leave them in his dust.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
Tobio’s eyes were flitting between him and Oikawa. Atsumu turned to him and smiled with the biggest smile he could muster.
“Tobio-kun,” he greeted, relishing in the way Oikawa straightened at that. “How are ya doin’ today?”
“Uh, I’m okay,” Tobio managed. He was adorably confused. “How about you?”
His smile widened. “Good. I’m doin’ good.” He knew Osamu and Suna would be making fun of him for this later on, but right now, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Across the Hall, their gazes seemed to be burning him.
“Tobio-chan and I were just talking about Quidditch,” Oikawa chimed in. He slid a casual arm around Tobio’s shoulders, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere but standing here, talking to the two of them. Atsumu resisted the urge to roll his eyes, forcing himself to keep a neutral face. “Are you excited for our upcoming match, Tobio-chan?”
That was beyond irritating. Any nickname was better than fucking Tobio-chan . Hell, Tobio-kun was a lot nicer than that.
Despite that, Tobio reddened at his words. “We’ll beat you,” he promised.
Oikawa didn’t even look fazed. “Mmm. If you say so.” He pulled Tobio closer and pressed his lips to his cheek for the briefest second before releasing him, stepping aside. Atsumu’s eyebrows shot upwards. “I’m going to eat breakfast now. I’ll see you around.”
He sent an indecipherable look Atsumu’s way as he brushed past him. He might have muttered something under his breath while he was at it, but Atsumu was too stunned to do anything except disguise a few choice words as a coughing fit.
Tobio’s face was completely red by the time Oikawa was gone. Even so, Atsumu could feel the older boy’s blank eyes on them from the Ravenclaw table.
“Are ya datin’ him now, Tobio-kun?” He tried not to sound too miffed. “Oikawa-kun, I mean.”
To his relief, he shook his head. “We’re not dating.”
“Okay, good.”
“Huh?”
“I said okay.” Atsumu squared his shoulders and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Tobio-kun, as long as he isn’t dating ya, I’m not gonna give up.”
Tobio blinked once. Twice. Then:
“ What ?”
He looked like he was about to run. Atsumu was aware that the space in front of the door to the Great Hall was not a great spot to give a confession to the boy he liked, especially before the said boy had even eaten breakfast, but time was of the essence, and Atsumu despised losing. Granted, this confession shouldn’t even have been taking place, seeing as they’ve had so many secret cuddling sessions, but it wasn’t his fault Tobio couldn’t take a damn hint.
Atsumu grinned. “I’ll see ya at the Room of Requirement when classes finish, Tobio-kun.” Then, just to put the cherry on top, he leaned forward and let his lips ghost across Tobio’s flushed cheek, right where Oikawa had just lingered. “Have a good day.”
As he left Tobio standing at the door, he was sure the Gryffindor was about to combust.
He made it through his school day without paying much attention to his surroundings. Osamu kept nudging him and teasing him about how he was “so fuckin’ jealous”, at least until he chucked his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook at his head, and the two of them got into a shouting match that was only broken up when Professor Ukai sighed and told them he would send them to the Headmaster if they didn’t shut up. Their poor professor had to go through so much shit with the two of them in the same class, but Atsumu couldn’t help it if Osamu liked being a bitch. In fact, he would’ve liked to say that most of the fights they’d gotten into weren’t even his fault.
Either way, he was standing in front of the Room of Requirement’s blank stone wall at the end of the day, waiting for Tobio. Atsumu entertained the idea that perhaps he’d been stood up when Tobio didn’t show up for the first few minutes, but then the other boy arrived, panting and red, like he’d run all the way to the seventh floor.
“Sorry,” Tobio apologized. “Hinata wouldn’t stop talking, even though I was trying to—” He broke off once he realized Atsumu was laughing. “What’s so funny?”
“Oi, don’t make that face at me. Yer just so cute.”
Tobio stammered and blushed. Atsumu just smiled and looped his arm around Tobio’s waist, dragging him across the hallway.
“What, ya haven’t heard that before? Nobody told ya how adorable ya are?”
“Uh, not really—”
That was a relief. Good to know that he was still a step ahead of Oikawa.
“Well, I guess I’ll be the one tellin’ ya.” The door to the Room appeared on the stone wall, just as expected. “I’m not complainin’ ‘bout that, either.”
“Are you flirting with me?” he blurted.
Atsumu dipped his head low, tucking it into the crook of Tobio’s neck. “Why don’t ya tell me?” he murmured. His voice came out husky and low. “Tell me what ya think.” Tobio was holding his breath, so Atsumu pulled him closer as they passed through the entryway of the Room of Requirement, letting his warm breath graze across his skin and down the collar of his shirt. Tobio had shut his eyes. “Like I said before, I’m not tellin’ ya anythin’.”
There was a deep frown on Tobio’s face as he considered this, like he was finally beginning to piece things together. Atsumu chuckled and let Tobio go.
“In the meantime, why don’t we play some wizard chess?”
“I guess.”
Taking his usual seat in his velvet armchair felt like coming home. Atsumu tipped his head back and waited for Tobio to make his first move, but it was clear that the other boy was distracted. For the first time, he didn’t look immersed in their chess match. He was scowling at the chessboard, lips pressed tightly together, looking as if it had burned him. Neither of them moved for a long time.
“Don’t let yer little brain think too hard,” Atsumu teased.
“Oikawa-san just asked me on a date,” Tobio said suddenly.
He tried hard not to let the disappointment show on his face, but he could feel the frown that creased his forehead. Atsumu swallowed.
“Yeah? Are ya gonna go?”
“I probably will.” Great. “It’s just…”
“What is it?”
His voice came out hoarse, defeated. Atsumu was never one to back down, especially not when it came to getting the things he wanted, but this wasn’t like winning a simple game of Quidditch or a match of wizard chess. In Quidditch, everyone on the pitch had the same goal, whether they were on his team or the opposing one: to win. However, this was real life. Even though Tobio was an open book, it was impossible to read his intentions. For as loud and obnoxious he seemed on the outside, Atsumu was usually good at picking people apart.
Tobio looked up and levelled his gaze on him. His cheeks were flushed and feverish, the color of a pastel sky, just like those quiet mornings he liked so much. “I’ve never been kissed before.”
All the breath was punched out of Atsumu’s chest, as if Osamu had socked him in the stomach. He could feel himself straightening up. “You’ve never had a first kiss?” Even he’d kissed some girls before, if they didn’t find him too irritating. Some boys, too.
He flushed again. “I haven’t.”
“I’ll teach ya, then,” Atsumu said, a little too hastily.
Tobio froze. For a moment, it was like everything in the world stopped moving. Time had finally slowed down until the universe was moving underwater. Atsumu saw everything—the way Tobio’s eyes widened, how dark his cheeks got, the look of complete surprise on his face. He saw everything, and he still couldn’t read Tobio at all.
It was so ridiculous, what this winter break had led to. It had gone from friendly competition to cuddling and sharing each other’s heat during the cold nights, yet he couldn’t tell if Tobio only considered it as a friendship, even though Atsumu had given countless signs, even though he had to stop himself from stealing a kiss every time he came close. If he thought about it, Tobio was a lot like a sunset, as much as he liked it when the sun was rising—the misleading breath of fresh air before everything turned dim, something that seemed so unattainable, no matter how much you could try to chase it. Even if Atsumu hopped on his broom and flew halfway around the world, following the fading horizon, it would always end up dark eventually.
But he would take what he could get. Even if they didn’t have the same end goal, that was how far he’d go for Tobio.
Atsumu waited for the instant rejection, the inevitable moment when Tobio’s jaw would drop. The younger boy would look at him with something that resembled pity and finally, finally understand how Atsumu felt about him.
Instead, Tobio hesitated and said, “Okay.”
His heart stuttered to a stop.
“ What ?”
“Okay,” Tobio repeated, but his cheeks were red. The things Atsumu would do to this boy. “I mean, I trust you. And I should learn, just in case Oikawa-san…”
“Right,” Atsumu agreed, distracted. “For Oikawa-kun.”
“Right,” he echoed. “For our date.”
Atsumu got to his feet, looming over Tobio, who was hunched over in his armchair. Tobio must have been nervous, but he stared back at Atsumu with a fiery expression, the kind of flame that could burn unfortunate lovers alive. He couldn’t tell if Tobio saw this as just another challenge to conquer, or if he would forever view his first kiss as something more.
But hell if he would pass up on the opportunity to make Tobio see how he felt. Atsumu must have been a masochist.
He leaned down, putting one of his hands on the back of Tobio’s armchair, boxing him in. His other hand wandered to Tobio’s chin, tilting it upwards with all the gentleness he’d wanted to show him for so long.
“Are ya sure ‘bout this?” he breathed.
He squeezed his eyes shut and nodded.
Atsumu scooted a little closer. Their lips were close enough to brush, and he wondered if this meant Tobio could hear his unsteady heartbeat banging in his chest, loud enough to be heard all the way across the world. “First, ya need to relax,” he whispered, like giving away the secrets of the universe. “It’s not gonna feel good if yer gettin’ yerself all worked up.”
Tobio relaxed his shoulders. His breath escaped his mouth in a shaky exhale.
“Good.” Atsumu’s voice came out rough. “That’s a lot better.” His fingers traced Tobio’s neck, the hinge of his jaw. “If he wants to make it a good kiss, then he’s gonna wait for the right moment before he actually kisses ya. Just like this.”
He tensed again. “But—”
“ Shh. Ya need to trust him. Just like ya trust me.” His mouth was starting to run away from him. It was just too easy for Tobio to make him like this. Atsumu let his eyes slide shut, moving until their foreheads pressed together. This way, he could feel Tobio’s rattling breath on his lips, the soft noises he made every time he inhaled. “It’ll probably happen at the end of the night, ya know. He might walk ya to yer dormitory, and he’ll kiss ya before ya go into yer common room. Maybe after ya go flyin’ together at the Quidditch pitch or lookin’ at stars from the Astronomy Tower.”
“That sounds nice,” Tobio murmured.
“Then he’ll put his hand on the back of yer neck, like this. And he’ll pull ya in real close.” They were so close now. Atsumu let his lips brush against Tobio’s for the briefest of seconds, and he swore that he could feel the spark it ignited in his chest, flowing like honey, sticky and sweet, everything that Tobio was—it was all him, and it was all for him. “Might tease ya a bit,” he whispered. “He’ll make it last forever. He’ll kiss ya so ya don’t forget him. Make ya feel good.”
“I won’t forget you.”
It was so quiet that Atsumu barely caught it, the softest thing he’d ever heard him say. He tilted his head, let his lips graze Tobio’s again. Tobio made a surprised noise and leaned closer, asking for more, but Atsumu just smiled.
“And that’s all that happens before the kiss,” he whispered. Even so, he had the feeling he was speaking too loud, just like when Tobio clung to him outside the Room of Requirement, hungry for his touch. “Then there’s the kiss itself.”
Before Tobio could say anything, he leaned forward and kissed him.
It was a lovely kiss, the best he’s had in awhile. Tobio was uncertain, hands sliding up to the back of Atsumu’s neck, but he kissed with everything he had inside of him, just like how he did everything else. Tobio really was a simple guy. It shouldn’t have been as much of a struggle to understand him as it was.
Atsumu only broke the kiss to reach up and put one of his hands on top of Tobio’s.
“Ya can touch me,” he whispered. “Don’t be nervous to touch— him. Touch him. Oikawa-kun will like that.”
It was painful to mention the name of Tobio’s crush when they were making out, but Tobio didn’t seem to notice. He said nothing in reply, tightening his grip on Atsumu, pulling him closer. Atsumu went willingly, hands tracing underneath Tobio’s shirt, the sharp jut of his ribs, the softness of his skin. If this was the last sunset he could experience for the rest of his life—the only sunset he’d ever want to experience again—he would take what it gave him.
Tobio went on his first date with Oikawa two nights after Atsumu taught him how to kiss. The two of them went on their second date a night after that.
Atsumu heard from one of the other Ravenclaws that they snuck into the Astronomy Tower after hours to look at the stars. Oikawa seemed like the kind of guy who would know his constellations. He probably pointed out Ursa Major and the North Star and made jokes about the ones with stupid names, making Tobio laugh. He probably made up a constellation, too—picked the prettiest star in the sky and said that it was named Kageyama Tobio. What a bitch. Atsumu couldn’t bring himself to hate him completely.
He heard a day later that Tobio and Oikawa had kissed outside the Gryffindor common room, right before Tobio got ready to sleep. He wondered if Oikawa kissed him so that he’d never forget it, but he knew that isn’t true, because the two of them had so many more kisses to look forward to.
It was a couple weeks later when Osamu approached him, right before they were leaving for class. Atsumu was sitting at the foot of his bed, like he often did these days. He never seemed to have the energy to do anything anymore, except for flying on his broom. When he was high above the Hogwarts castle, it helped him forget the shattering world.
“Suna and I are datin’,” he said, like he was informing him about the weather.
Atsumu looked at him. “Since when were ya datin’?”
He sounded tired to his own ears.
There was an absent smile on Osamu’s face. Everyone except him was getting together, it seemed.
“Two days ago,” he replied. “He asked me out when we were walkin’ back to the common room.”
“That’s great,” Atsumu said, and he meant it. It wasn’t much of a surprise, after all. Now Osamu and Suna could talk by themselves and share candy together and do all the things they usually did, except he might catch them making out a few times. At the same time, a strange tide turned over in his gut. There was a dull burning in his chest that felt strangely like loneliness. “I’m happy for ya, ‘Samu.”
Osamu paused and shot him an unreadable look.
Atsumu was defensive. He hated being scrutinized. “Why are ya starin’ at me?”
“‘Tsumu,” Osamu started, and then he stopped. He tried again. “‘Tsumu, I’m yer twin. Everyone thinks it’s weird that we haven’t gotten any points deducted from our annoyin’ arguments recently. Hell, Slytherin is actually in the lead for the House Cup. First time since we’ve come to Hogwarts.”
It was rare for the two of them to have genuine heart-to-hearts. Osamu was usually too busy getting on his nerves for them to talk about Atsumu’s worthless feelings. However, there was never a single argument between them that they hadn’t gotten over. They’d been in the womb together. It only made sense that they’d care about each other.
Atsumu leaned back on his bed and sighed. He turned to look up at the ceiling, memorizing the cracks in the rafters, the shadows that fell across the walls like black paint.
“I lost,” he said.
Osamu didn’t ask what he was talking about. He didn’t need to. Perhaps it was just another one of those twin things.
“Then ya have to win,” he answered.
Atsumu pushed himself up on his elbows and glared at his brother. “It’s not that easy, ya know,” he said. “This isn’t a game. He has his own intentions, and I have mine, and it just so happens that they don’t align.”
“Never knew ya knew what align meant. Ya never used that word before.” Atsumu rolled his eyes, trying his best not to burst. “But really, ‘Tsumu, this isn’t that different than any other thing ya could put yer mind to.”
“What do ya mean?”
“If yer behind, ya don’t give up.” Osamu looked at him hard, and for the first time in forever, it felt like they were on the same page. “Of all people, yer the one who taught me that.”
If he immediately pulled his brother in for a sappy hug and proclaimed that he loved him, he would never admit it to anyone.
His heart burned again, but this time, it wasn’t as painful.
He showed up outside the Gryffindor common room later that day. He had to wait for thirty minutes for someone to come by, and when someone finally did, he supposed it was only his luck that it would be Oikawa himself.
Oikawa stared at him in surprise when he spotted him. Atsumu forced a smile, trying to quell the churning in his stomach. For a second, he wondered if Oikawa was going to freak out on him, the way he had seen Oikawa freak out when Matsukawa spilled juice on his robes. However, he was startled when Oikawa relaxed his stance and smiled back at him. It seemed a little forced, too, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“What brings you here, Oikawa-kun?” he asked, even though he was certain of the response. Tobio would have snorted and told him that he shouldn’t ask questions he already knew the answers to.
He sighed. “Waiting for Tobio-chan.”
“Interesting.”
It wasn’t any information he hadn’t been expecting. The two of them stood there for a moment in an awkward silence, trying to look anywhere but at each other. Atsumu shoved his hands in his pockets. He was in the midst of wondering if he should try to be friendly or irritating, but before he could decide, Oikawa was sighing again and turning on his heel. Atsumu’s head snapped up in surprise. Oikawa was already halfway down the corridor.
“Hey, where are ya goin’?”
Oikawa stopped in his tracks and tilted his head up, studying the ceiling. He was quiet for a long time in the empty hallway, back turned, giving nothing away. It seemed to be something that he’d practiced for a long time—hiding his true intentions, either behind saccharine smiles or calculating eyes, no in between. People didn’t give Oikawa enough credit for how much thought he put into things, even Atsumu.
“You know,” Oikawa murmured. “Tobio-chan liked me since we were little. He was six years old. So annoying when I got my Hogwarts acceptance letter, though. He wouldn’t stop asking me when he would be able to go.” He let out a quiet laugh, one that some might have called self-deprecating. “But things have changed since winter break. He likes you now, even if he hasn’t realized it yet. I can tell.”
He turned and looked straight at Atsumu. Atsumu stared back, determined not to lose, even at something as miniscule as this.
“I know when I’ve lost,” was all he said. “Take care of him for me.”
“I will,” Atsumu promised. His throat felt day.
Oikawa nodded, seemingly satisfied. He sent one more tight-lipped smile his way before continuing down the hallway, running a hand through his hair. It was like they hadn’t spoken at all.
Atsumu felt lighter as he waited for Tobio to show up. When Tobio finally arrived with Hinata, the shrimp was considerate enough to leave them alone (not until after a fair share of screaming, of course). Tobio stood and faced him, his cheeks already red. He was blushing, and he hadn’t even said anything yet. Even Tobio wasn’t dense enough not to realize that something had changed between them. Atsumu wondered how long it had been since they last talked.
“Tobio-kun,” he started, at the same time Tobio blurted out, “Atsumu-san.”
They stopped and looked at each other. Laughed, because they were both ridiculous and stupid and everything in between. How fitting that it would take this long for them to finally be standing on the same side, not quite lovers yet, but something in between. One look at this boy, and Atsumu knew they were going to be okay.
“Did Oikawa-kun tell ya?” he asked. He had to be sure.
Tobio nodded and took a step closer. “He told me,” he said.
“Okay. That’s good.” He swallowed. “Real good.”
Tobio’s lips curled into a smile, and he tilted his head to the side. He was so unfairly beautiful that it made Atsumu nervous, even though he’d seen him often, even though they’d spent so much time together in the same bed, even though they’d kissed. He held Atsumu in the palm of his hand, had him twisted around his finger, and Atsumu would never wish for things to have turned out any other way.
“I like you, Atsumu-san.”
He said what he meant, and meant what he said. This was the reason Atsumu never had to doubt his sincerity.
He swallowed again. “I like ya, too, Tobio-kun.”
“I know.” Tobio had that wobbly smile on his face. He seemed to be fighting back laughter. “I have a proposal for you.”
“And what would that proposal be?”
Tobio smiled, real and genuine. It was the most adorable thing Atsumu had ever seen.
“If you can beat me in a match of wizard chess, I’ll go out with you,” he said.
Atsumu pulled him closer. “Yer such a little shit,” he whispered against Tobio’s mouth, feeling the tiny smirk that fluttered against his lips. “I think I’ve already won.”
For the first time, they kissed for real, and Atsumu knew he chased the sunset enough to have finally caught up to it.