Chapter Text
“Yes mom. I will. I will. Him too, yes. At the end of the month, right? It’ll be fine, yeah. Okay. I love you too, I’ll talk to you later, mom. Goodbye.”
Sakusa set his phone face down on the counter, reaching for his glass of tea. He stared ahead without taking a sip, however, and set it back down again before dragging his hands down his face, letting out a long and painful sigh.
“God….what have I done.”
* * *
The day had started like any other for Sakusa. A pleasant Thursday, frankly, with the sun out and shining but a nice, cool breeze blowing. Warm enough he didn’t have to bury himself under layers of uncomfortable clothes, and cool enough to be able to wear his favorite zip-up.
It had started so nicely, so how did he end up here? Here, now a week later, still brooding?
The rest of the team eyed him wearily all week, his glares only slightly less deadly than his spikes. Something was brewing in him, obviously, and no one had the guts to ask what. One practice turned to two, and quickly became a week of sour moods and ugly hits. So when Sakusa, silent all of practice, approached Atsumu in the locker room, aura brooding and dangerous, many packed up and left before they witnessed a crime scene.
“Miya. Do you have a minute?”
Atsumu looked up from his gym bag, towel hanging from his neck from the shower. He seemed to be one of the few that was never affected by Kiyoomi’s bad attitude, and flashed the man a wide grin. “For you, Omi-Omi, I’ve got all the time in the world.”
“Wonderful.” Kiyoomi muttered, scowl deepening and hands pushing deeper in his pockets. “Alright, then I need your help.”
At that, Atsumu stood up, interest clearly piqued. “Sure, what can I do for ya?”
The response did not come quickly. Atsumu watched as Kiyoomi struggled, his hands pushing against the limits of the team jacket and leg muscles digging his heel into the ground. He groaned as he tipped his head back, crumpling up his entire face. Atsumu merely raised his brow and ruffled his dripping hair, waiting.
Finally, after what looked like an entire physical battle, Sakusa gritted out, “Will you… pretend to be my boyfriend… for a dinner party with my parents…..”
The silence that hung between them was utterly uncharacteristic of the typically bustling locker room they currently stood in. A water droplet fell from Atsumu’s tufts as he stood frozen, the sound of it hitting the ground echoing throughout the walls. Kiyoomi’s agitated glare never broke Atsumu’s blank stare back, expression never changing as he processed what was just asked of him.
“Haha…what?”
Kiyoomi huffed and looked to the side, “I’m asking if you’ll pretend to be my boyfriend in front of my parents. Please don’t make me say it again.”
Atsumu blinked before absently packing the rest of his bag. “This is a joke, right? Yer prankin’ me? Ahh, did Bokkun or ‘Samu put you up to this, that’s rough…”
“Regrettably, I’m serious.”
“Pretend to be yer boyfriend…?” Atsumu shoved the towel in his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Me? Why?”
It’s a good question, to be fair. One that Kiyoomi had spent so many days thinking over in depth, it was driving him mad. Atsumu was certainly not his first choice, but it wasn’t like Kiyoomi had many options.
Option #1: Wakatoshi-kun. This was ruled out almost as quickly as it’s considered. Kiyoomi could never bother Wakatoshi-kun with something like this.
Option #2: Hinata. On top of him already dating Kageyama, Hinata was not someone Sakusa could… handle. The idea of spending hours alone with him, as well as his parents, was exhausting in itself. Sorry, Hinata.
Option #3: Bokuto. Same situation as Hinata. Already dating Akaashi, Bokuto has the kind of energy that Kiyoomi needed a week to recover from. He couldn’t decide if Bokuto was a better or worse option than Hinata, if it really came down to it. Maybe Hinata... Sorry, Bokuto.
Option #4: Meian-san. This is one that left Kiyoomi hopeful, but when approached, Meian quickly and awkwardly declined, not wanting to get involved in a mess like that.
Option #5: The rest of MSBY. Kiyoomi considered them momentarily, but decided he wasn't close enough with any of them to ask.
That left one option. An option that Sakusa denied, for three days in fact, before finally accepting the facts. Miya Atsumu was, unfortunately, the only other person in his life he could accept as a fake-partner. He was last for a long list of reasons; he was obnoxious, loud, never missed an opportunity to tease, and while he did take care of himself well enough to stay attractive (if it’s just himself Kiyoomi is talking to, then he’s just giving credit where credit is due), it still wasn’t near Kiyoomi’s standards. However, he still had enough to check Kiyoomi’s bare minimum. He was familiar, they could work well together, and despite his annoying personality, Atsumu was a dedicated and devoted teammate, and Sakusa had seen his attentiveness multiple times.
The last option, equipped with 188 centimeters, 80 kilograms and a questionable hair job, a challenge to work with but perhaps his best chance of success, standing before him with a strange look of caution foreign to his features, was no one else but Miya Atsumu.
Sakusa sighed. Hype Miya up and deal with his ego but get his best performance, or insult him and keep their relationship as normal as possible?
Sakusa met Atsumu’s gaze and pressed his nails into his palm in his pocket. Results are everything, right?
“You’re the only one I can count on to do this.”
Atsumu visibly lights up in what looked to be shock and delight; Sakusa didn’t miss the wave that perked up ever so slightly from his spine to his head, and his amber eyes widened and shone just a flash before coyness took over the vulnerable features. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder before standing straighter, free hand slipping to his pocket. His chin tipped up and his lips twisted, and Kiyoomi sighed quietly as he predicted this coming.
“Awww, Omi-kun, ya trust me?”
Sakusa scoffed as he brushed past Miya. “What a stupid question, you’re my setter. Of course I do.”
Atsumu couldn’t help the grin as he spun on his heel to catch up, a new bounce in his step. Seeing his mouth open to talk, Kiyoomi quickly cut him off. "You never answered. Is that a yes? Or a no?"
Crossing the gym is suddenly quiet with Atsumu contemplative beside him, "Well, what do ya need from me?"
Sakusa adjusted his bag, "To be convincing enough that my parents will stop pestering me about my love life, finally."
Atsumu bit his cheek, "Okay… so like, what? Kisses? Marriage proposal? Kids?"
Kiyoomi suddenly came to a halt and turned sharply to him, expression stern, "Yes or no, Miya? I'm running out of ideas and I don't have time to play with a joke. If you can't, that's fine, but I need to know."
Golden eyes blinked in slight surprise at the severity Sakusa spoke with. Atsumu put his hands up in defense, shrugging. "Hey, don't freak out, it's fine. I'll do it, okay? After all, ya really need me, right?" His eyebrows and lips rose in tandem, flashing that "nice guy" smile that makes the fans swoon and the team groan. "How could I ever let a teammate down?"
Sakusa's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at Miya's show, clutching his bag closer as he mumbled, " 'm not freaking out, " trying to shove past Miya once again, only for him to open the gym doors for him like a gentleman.
"Serve into the scoreboard again, that always works," he retorts back instead, ignoring Atsumu's embarrassed sputter behind him. Once the flustered footsteps caught up with him again, he continued, "Why don't you come over to my place then so we can discuss a plan. Are you busy tomorrow?"
The pause as Atsumu reads his face should have been telling of the smirk that followed, "Is this a date then, Omi-kun?"
The other scowled, nose scrunching up clearly behind the mask. Why is it him again?
"Let's be clear that anything that happens from here out is not real. So, no. But, for the sake of pretending… I guess ."
That answer didn't satiate Miya apparently because the smirk didn't waiver, and in fact settled contently on his face. "Fine. But I'm gonna convince ya so hard I'm gonna make ya fall in love with me, for real."
“It’s not me you’re convincing, it’s my parents, but nice try,” Sakusa said with a roll of his eyes. “10 am, Miya. Don’t get lost.”
The man in question grinned as he waved to the broad back walking away, heading in his own direction.
Going to practice single and coming back pretend-taken was not on Atsumu’s list of expectations for the day, but hey, sometimes opportunity looked suspiciously like a teammate in need of a boyfriend.
The next morning started bright and early for both of them. Even though Saturday is an off day for practice, being a national level athlete will turn even the darkest of night owls into at least some form of an early bird. Though, the transition is harder for some than for others.
That’s why, at 10am sharp, Atsumu stood gleefully knocking on Sakusa’s apartment door, mood as bright as the very sun in the sky. That’s also why, despite his best effort, Kiyoomi opened the door with hair not as well tamed as Atsumu was used to, and squinted at the barrage of light through his entry way.
“Mornin’ Omi Omi!”
“Hi,” is all he gets in response as Sakusa steps aside to let Miya in. Atsumu slipped off his shoes and spun around to face Sakusa again, sticking out his hand, which Sakusa just then notices is occupied. “What’s this…?” he wondered gently, taking the cup with caution.
“Coffee, just the way you like it. I know you don’t get goin’ till you’ve had some in ya.”
Sakusa stared at it for a moment before furrowing his brows, opening his mouth to speak before Atsumu cut him off. “I’ve got everyone’s orders memorized, don’t worry. Have you ever had a bad cup of coffee before at practices?” he asked, lips rising with a knowing smile. “One cream and one sugar, with just a few pieces a’ ice.”
“Thanks,” is all Kiyoomi can muster after a few beats of puzzled silence. He supposed he had never really thought about the group coffee orders before.
“So, boyfriend talk? Oh, I already messed up,”
Atsumu cleared his throat before standing a little stiffer, pitch dropping slightly as he shoved his hand in his skinny jean pocket. “Mornin’ baby, how’s my little sugar buns?”
The silence between them is painful, and so long Atsumu almost apologizes before Kiyoomi responds, dry and appalled, “Never say that to me again.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Atsumu sipped his own drink while looking away, trying to forget the moment as quickly as possible.
“Anyway, this way,” Kiyoomi led them to his kitchen table, motioning to a chair before moving around and sitting in the one across from it. Atsumu scanned over the dark hardwood and found a few notebooks, papers, and pens already neatly set for their meeting. Atsumu suddenly felt like he was in his high school’s counseling office again.
“So, a run down,” Kiyoomi began, lifting the notebook and reading. “You have agreed to pretend to be my boyfriend in front of my parents. We will be hosting a dinner party for them on Saturday, two weeks from today. The goal is to convince them I am in a normal and stable relationship. Do you still agree?”
“Omi, you don’t have to be so formal ‘bout-”
“Do you still agree, Miya?” Kiyoomi cut off, lowering the notebook to look him in the face.
Atsumu huffed and played with his fingers, stubbornly grumbling, “Yes, I agree.”
“Good. Then to expand,” the notebook raised again as he continued. “One. Since it’s only my parents we’re convincing, you only have to act in front of them. Practice and dinners and anything else we might do can go on like normal. Two, the dinner will be held at my place, since, well, they’re my parents. Food is still something I’m not sure about. We can talk about it more after. Then, three. The reason for all of this is because my mother is always pestering me about when I’m going to settle down, meet a nice girl, and whatnot,” Sakusa sighed, eyes closing as the notebook finally settled on the table again. “And I’ve never lied to either of them like this, but they won’t listen to me. So I am serious about this, and I don’t want you to joke around during it. My parents are serious and smart people, so this has to go perfectly right.”
They shared a look in the silence after. Atsumu felt like he was just handed a very tightly wrapped present, the layers around the box being Kiyoomi’s apparently deep and serious concerns. In that sense, the very present itself must be his own friend and teammate, Sakusa. Being handed a gift like that is a serious deal, and so Atsumu takes hold of the box with gentle hands.
“I believe ya, Omi-kun. I may be the funniest one on the team, but I swear I’m a perfectly capable adult as well.”
Kiyoomi leveled him with a look. “Gentle hands” might have been a bit dramatic, but Atsumu still meant it, all the same.
Satisfied, Atsumu leaned back and crossed his arms. “Now, I’m gonna work backward here. Three, can do, sounds good, count on me. Two, how fancy or whatever are ya thinkin’? I can cook enough to feed myself and others but I don’t know about any fancy dishes… were you trying to cook this yerself or catering somethin’?”
Loose curls bounced as Kiyoomi nodded his head, opening up the notebook once again. This time, he slid a paper over to Atsumu as well, and the blonde nearly scoffed when he realized it was a copy of their meeting’s “minutes.” “So I’m thinking of home cooking. It will look more domestic and seem more meaningful to them, and I think it would just be a more comfortable situation in general.” Atsumu nods at his points. “It doesn’t have to be something from a five-star restaurant…” Kiyoomi trailed off, eyes wandering in apprehension, “But it just feels right knowing my family to have something better than, say, noodles.”
The chair tipped back under Atsumu’s weight, foot tapping restlessly. He’s quiet for a moment as he thinks, Kiyoomi’s words and multiple thoughts running through his head.
“Well… I don’t think I’m yer man for that, and it doesn’t sound like you are either. But…” Atsumu’s face gradually cracked into a grin as he’s hit with realization. “What if we ask ‘Samu! He can cook some nice shit, we can get him to teach us or somethin’!”
They both leaned towards the table again, faces set with realization.
“Actually… that’s not a bad idea. Do you think he will? Is that too much to ask?”
“Please!” Atsumu exclaimed with a wave of his hand, “He’s my brother. I’m sure he owes me somethin’. Besides, he’s got a secret weak spot, too, if a direct approach doesn’t work.” He leaned across the table, drawing Sakusa in as well. It’s not until they’re only a few curl lengths apart that Atsumu smirks, “Sunarin.”
Kiyoomi furrowed his brows, “What?”
“Sunarin. His boyfriend since high school, Suna Rintarou. Guy’s utterly whipped for him, it’s disgusting. Suna bats his eyes at one little thing and ‘Samu turns into a puddle,” Atsumu shook his head in disapproval.
“So… we get him on our side if it doesn’t work? And your brother will help us?”
“I’m sure of it. Hell, let’s pay ’im a visit tonight, sometimes Sunarin visits on the weekends.”
Sakusa nodded with that small glint of determination of his. “Okay. I’m in.”
Atsumu grinned wide, his own look of determination mirroring and firing up Sakusa’s. “Great. Then, for number one. I agree, acting all the time would be really hard, and tiring. But wouldn’t it be good to be able to practice?”
“What do you mean?” Sakusa narrowed his eyes.
“Like,” Atsumu starts, leaning back in the chair again as he exhaled a thought, “I’m a great actor, choosin’ me was a wise move on yer end,” Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, “but somethin’ like that, serious dating, ya can’t just pull outta yer ass. Relationships are different depending on who yer datin’, right? I’m not gonna treat you exactly the same as someone else.”
Kiyoomi was quiet as he mulled the point over, which he admittedly hadn’t thought of. He bit his tongue as he held back a, ‘How would you treat me then?’
“Okay, I see what you’re saying. What do you suggest then?”
The fight between being serious and saying a flirty joke was clearly visible on Atsumu’s well sculpted face, a truly intense battle from the look of it. “Okay, hear me out,” he finally started. “Maybe we can like, practice the basics in private, and try using them in public at practice?” He paused, taking in Kiyoomi’s doubtful and calculating expression. “Something like that,” he adds quickly with a shake of his head, “but, here’s my other idea, that, frankly, you will not have a say in,” he smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. Then, as an afterthought, added, “As my husband.”
“Boyfriend,” Kiyoomi corrected, his narrowed eyes boring into him disapprovingly, already expecting the worst. “And what would that be?”
It was like a flood light was turned on, or the sun reflected off a car hood straight into Kiyoomi’s unprepared eyeballs. The radiance Atsumu suddenly possessed with his beaming grin and crinkled eyes at his own sheer excitement of what he was about to say.
“Well, I’m gonna take ya out on some dates!”
For whatever glorious leadup that the blonde’s sudden change in demeanor seemed to prepare him for, Sakusa was thoroughly unimpressed.
“What.” He deadpanned.
Amber eyes rolled as Atsumu’s mouth dropped open, equally disappointed in the other’s reaction. “Omi, it’s in the word! Date! Dates are where ya treat yer partner all nice n’ sweet, get to know ‘em, have some one-on-one time, etc.! I’m a shitty-ass boyfriend if I don’t take ya out, snookums.”
Sakusa had a way of being blunt, but in every meaning of the word. If his words didn’t say it, then you could absolutely rely on his expression. The current one, being a prime example, was like he was handed a megaphone to announce his disgust.
“Omi, please, yer face looks like a shirt ready to be tie-dyed.”
The wrinkles scrunched further.
“Excuse me?”
Atsumu smacked a hand on his face and sighed, “Y’know- ya gotta rumple it up and put rubber- forget it. Anyway, got plans after practice on Tuesday?”
Sakusa leaned back and eyed him, obviously still not convinced. “No. Why?”
The smile that adorned Miya’s features this time shined of… something Sakusa can only describe as charming. There isn’t a lick of ill intent, but something about it still seems a little mischievous. That just seems to be Miya Atsumu, though. “There’s a night market comin’ to town next week, wanna go?”
“As a date?”
“As a date,” Atsumu nods, chin back to sitting on his hand.
Kiyoomi fiddled with the edge of the table as he mumbled aloud, “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been on an actual date.”
If his smile shined before, Atsumu’s grin beamed now. “Well that's what I’m here for! Don’t you worry yer pretty little head ‘bout anything, I’ll take care of it.”
Kiyoomi eyed him for a moment before sitting back in his chair, “Fine, let’s check it out then. As a date.”
“As a date,” Atsumu repeated.
“So,” Sakusa began again, tapping his pen on the notebook page, “you want it to be like a real date, like real couples do?”
Honey eyes racked over Kiyoomi’s features, his uncertainty and apprehension blaringly clear. “Sugarcookie, how are we supposed to act like we’ve been moochin’ on each other for months if we don’t go out and spend some quality time together?” Atsumu offered a smile, trying to ease Kiyoomi with a joking atmosphere. “Do you like PDA?”
The other tapped his chin in thought, evaluating previous relationships he’d been in. “Not particularly. Nothing crazy, especially.” Across from him, Atsumu nodded, but Kiyoomi continued. “What about you? Do you like PDA?”
Atsumu blinked at him in surprise, then laughed awkwardly. “Whadya mean, Omi-kun? This ain’t about me.”
“A relationship is a two-way street, Miya. It might be for my sake overall, but it’s both of us pretending. It won’t look as authentic if I’m not conscious of you, either, right?”
After a tense moment of silence, the corner of Atsumu’s mouth ticked up and he snickered.
“What?” Sakusa pouted, frowning at him.
“Oh, stop yer crinklin’,” he chided, pointing a finger at Kiyoomi’s face. “I’m just impressed by how seriously yer takin’ this. Y’might make a good boyfriend, after all.”
Not knowing how to respond at first, Sakusa mumbled as he collected his notebooks and pens, “I never said I wasn’t one.” He looked up though after a moment, keeping his notebook out still. “You never responded. How do you feel about PDA?”
Atsumu blinked before grinning again, “Yeah, I’d say I’m a fan. I love being able to show everyone someone’s mine. But I don’t need it all the time, I can work with ya, Omi-Omi.”
Sakusa hummed in response, jotting things down on his paper. “Then… I think that’s it. Anything else you can think of?”
“Oh, wait yeah,” Atsumu flipped through his own papers in front of him. “How long have we been married for?”
“Dating, Miya,” Kiyoomi reminded with a sigh. “Hmm… I don’t know, actually. What’s a good amount that’s not too long that we should be married, but not too short that our relationship doesn’t seem reliable?”
Atsumu wanted to laugh again at his thoroughness but tapped his chin in thought as well. “Well… I’d say more than four months, and maybe less than two and a half years.”
Sakusa raised a brow in questioning at the oddly specific answer. “If it’s too long, someone in my family might start to get suspicious I never showed any sign earlier. What about…”
“Eight months?” they said together at the same time.
Atsumu grinned again after the surprise of their realization faded, “Well, I guess that settles it, then.”
Kiyoomi wrote more down in his notebook as Atsumu stood with a stretch. “Alright, happily together for eight months, limited PDA, a few dates, and my brother for dinner. I miss anything?”
The pen tapped against Kiyoomi’s chin before responding, “I think that’s about it.”
“Then,” Atsumu began, holding his hand out to his newest business partner. “I look forward to workin’ with ya.”
Kiyoomi hummed and squeezed a dollop of hand sanitizer into Atsumu’s hand instead, quietly pleased by Atsumu’s pout. “I suppose the pleasure is mine.”
It was nearly closing when Atusmu held open the door to Onigiri Miya for Sakusa, following after him to the stools at the counter. Osamu stood behind it, drying a pan with a towel when he turned around to see them. It was not unusual for Atsumu to come by himself, nor with the rest of MSBY in tow, but with one other person? And Sakusa Kiyoomi of all people? Osamu lifted a brow to himself as they settled in, oddly stiff, he might add.
“Hey,” he started, eyeing the two slightly, “This is new.”
Atsumu nodded. Neither of them said anything, and it quickly became awkward. Osamu went back to drying the pan.
Sakusa and Atsumu shared a glance before the latter cleared his throat. “Need yer help, ‘Samu. Can you help us host a little dinner party, and also act like we’re married?”
“Dating.” Sakusa corrected.
“Dating,” Atsumu repeated.
The towel rubbing the pan faltered for a moment before starting up again, much slower. Osamu looked between the two repeatedly, mouth twitching as he couldn’t decide if he should be laughing at the joke or… taking it seriously. Two sets of eyes blinked back expectantly at him.
“Hold on a second,” he said, before calling out to the back.
A few moments later and Suna’s hunched form joined them from wherever he had been hidden. “What,” he said more than asked, before looking at their customers. “Oh, hey guys.”
Osamu’s hand, still occupied with the towel, gestured at his twin, then Suna, before settling on his hip. “Please tell ‘im what ya just told me.”
Atsumu furrowed his brows before turning to Suna, sitting up a little straighter, “Omi and I don't know how to cook a big or nice enough meal for his parents. Also, I have to pretend to be his husband.”
“ Boyfriend. ”
“Boyfriend,” Atsumu added with a nod. “You guys are all, y’know, gross n’ stuff, so. Thought you could help us out.”
Suna looked at the pair in silence before looking to his own boyfriend, Osamu's incredulous expression barely suppressed as he stared back at Suna. Osamu didn’t need to voice anything. His face said it all. Are you fuckin’ serious, Rin? Tell me this is a joke.
A grin cracked on Suna’s face after a long while of silence and exchanged glances. Laughter, loud and hard, erupted out of his mouth and filled the shop, startling the other three. Wiping his eye, he stepped forward and took the pan out of Osamu’s white-knuckled grip.
“Rin-”
“I know, honey,” he managed between laughs, “It’s all gonna be okay.” Suna pat his boyfriend’s shoulder as he pushed past, leaning on the counter in front of the pair while putting distance between the twins.
It took a minute before he finally willed down his giggles, “So like, what happened. ”
Now it was Sakusa’s turn to glance around and sit up straighter. “Yes. Well. My mother called because it’s been a while, and she asked if I was seeing someone, as she has asked me for the past five years. But I always get a lecture so I just said yes, thinking she would leave me alone. Apparently not, because I got even more of an earful, and ended up agreeing to host a dinner at my place so her and my father could meet my… partner. It was a moment of panic, really.”
All eyes were on him as he finished, and there was yet another moment of silence as the situation sunk in. Suna fought back another laugh, chin in his palm, before he asked another question.
“Okay, sure. And you chose Atsumu as your fake boyfriend.” His hazel eyes glanced over to the blonde sitting next to Sakusa.
“He was a last choice, honestly.”
“Ouch?” Atsumu scoffed, suddenly very offended about the situation.
That’s the last straw for Suna and he cackled again, forehead dropping to his palm. Behind him, Osamu looked like he was about to have a migraine, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I really don’t understand why yer actin’ like this, what’s so funny?”
Osamu turned back around to face them, practically leaning over Suna to speak to them. “I just- Pretend? Why not just d-”
He was cut off by an elbow to his gut, supplied by Suna who finally stood. The scene was almost comical, Suna rising to full height as Osamu folded over. He finally tucked the pan he had taken from Osamu away before clearing his throat.
“So. Final question, just making sure I understand everything correctly. You need our help to cook and… do coupley things?”
Again, Sakusa and Atsumu looked at each other, though with shared confusion of the scene in front of them, before Atsumu answered, “I mean, yeah. You two are the grossest couple I know so-”
Below the counter, Sakusa kicked him in the shin and he, too, toppled over with a cough. “To be honest, I can’t cook anything impressive. I know Mi- Atsumu can cook a few things, but we both decided Osamu-san would be our best bet for something suitable for my parents. This is kind of a dire situation for me… I wouldn’t be here asking of any of your help,” he gestured to Atsumu at this as well, who was still wincing over his knee, “if I wasn’t absolutely serious.” Sakusa paused to look both Osamu and Suna in the eye before bowing his head. “Please. Your help is the only thing I can see making this work. Please help me.”
Suna chewed the inside of his lip before turning back to Osamu, who pouted at him. “Oh, you’re fine,” he mumbled before placing a kiss on his cheek. “Well, do we help the poor souls?”
Osamu took off his hat and sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Well… when’s the dinner? I can think up a menu of sorts for ya and see what we got from there.”
Sakusa sat up straight again, attentive. “Saturday, two weeks from now.”
Osamu nodded. “Alright. And couldja get the ingredients yerself?” Sakusa nodded back. “Okay. Then let me think of somethin’. You can come to our house and I’ll show ya the ropes. ‘Tsumu, I’ll text ya when I’m ready. Give me a few days.”
Standing with a small clatter, knee seemingly forgotten, Atsumu planted his hands on the counter and asked with wide eyes, “So you’ll help?”
“Yeah, yeah,” the other replied, waving his hat with a huff, “I’ll help yer sorry ass. But you gotta figure that boyfriend shit out on yer own. I’m not puttin’ my head in that.”
Atsumu stuck his tongue out at him as Kiyoomi gathered his things beside him.
"Thank you again, Osamu-san. This means a lot to me."
"Ah, please. Osamu's fine. Can't quite ignore a couple a' loiterers who barge in after hours, can I?"
With one last wave to the duo behind the counter, Atsumu and Sakusa headed out the door. As it closed behind them, Atsumu offered up his fist in a fist bump, "We got this. Ready to blow your parents away with how madly in love we are?"
Kiyoomi rolled his eyes but tapped his knuckles back. "If this turns out like a Hallmark movie, I'm going to throw up."
Beside him, Atsumu cackled, sound echoing through the street as they walked home.
A few minutes past six the following Tuesday and Atsumu rolled up to Kiyoomi’s to find him already waiting outside on his steps.
“Evenin’, sugar muffin!” He grinned, leaning across the car to open the door forthe unimpressed man.
“You’re late,” Kiyoomi stated, ducking into the car.
“ Fashionably , at least.”
Sakusa glanced over and appraised his outfit, noting the surprisingly good taste in fashion. Underneath a dark, varsity-like button up sat a maroon t-shirt nicely on his torso, while a pair of black skinny jeans did their best to hold Sakusa’s shameless attention. But, he couldn’t give him a compliment like that. Instead, he tore his gaze from his thighs and said, “Whatever helps you sleep at night. Nice boots.”
“Wha- hey! What kinda backhanded compliment was that?”
“What? I said nice boots,” Sakusa smirked.
Next to him, the faux blonde pouted, eyes flitting back to the road. “Well, yer coat’s certainly a coat then.”
Dark brows furrowed, looking down at the tan overcoat Sakusa was quite fond of. He actually took time to select an outfit for the date, and settled on a yellow striped long sleeve tucked into simple blue jeans. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, what’s ‘Whatever helps ya sleep at night. Oh yeah, nice boots.’ mean?!”
“You’re so difficult,” Sakusa sighed, leaning his elbow on the window sill.
Atsumu shook his head, at a loss. When he opened his mouth to retort, Sakusa pointed ahead of them, “Pay attention to the road.”
Beside him, Atsumu muttered grumpily under his breath. Kiyoomi smirked to himself, smug in his little victory.
“This is the worst start to a date I’ve ever had, I hope ya know,” Atsumu mumbled, pout set in his face.
“Something to remember me by.”
“I hope ya trip and smush yer pretty little face into some mud.”
Sakusa turned to him and fluttered his eyelashes, “Aww, you think I’m pretty?”
Atsumu snapped over to him and made deadly eye contact, “Oi, yer on thin ice. That’s my style, not yours.”
Kiyoomi’s eyes narrowed as his lip climbed higher, smirk making Atsumu swallow instinctively. “Oh? What’s wrong? Can’t take what you dish out?”
Eyes back on the road, Atsumu ignored Kiyoomi’s teases, “I’m not payin’ for yer ticket, just so you know.”
Kiyoomi hummed, turning back to the road as well, feeling more comfortable now with a leg up on Atsumu. They rode in silence for the few minutes more to the night festival, pulling into a parking spot.
Atsumu didn’t end up paying for Sakusa’s ticket, sending him a glare when he answered, “Just one,” to the booth worker. Kiyoomi responded with a stuck out tongue over his mask, and bought his own. Once they were stamped for admission, they entered the market, walking under an arch of colorful balloons and signs.
“Ya ever been to one a’ these before?” Atsumu asked beside him, pulling out a travel container of hand sanitizer and squirting some into his hand, much to Sakusa's surprise.
Kiyoomi shook his head, “No, not really my taste. Too many people and not much of a worthy return from it.”
An undyed eyebrow raised in his direction, “Hm. Well, I hope I can show ya what yer missin’ then!” Atsumu jogged ahead and spun around, arms splayed dramatically and grin just as wide. “Food, games, lights- the crisp cool night filled with life!”
Kiyoomi looked around, seeing if anyone was watching. Atsumu demanded attention wherever he went, and apparently their own “date” was no exception.
“C’mon, Omi-omi!,” He continued, walking back and offering his hand with a wink, “What do you wanna see most of all? I’ll make sure we’ll see it.”
After checking once again if anyone was staring (Atsumu was more than embarrassing), Kiyoomi looked from Atsumu’s encouraging face to his outstretched, recently sanitized hand. Tentatively, he took it, fingertips just barely brushing over the warm skin. The hand closed around his, offering a reassuring squeeze in response.
“Well, I could go for a snack,” Kiyoomi spoke, still watching their entangled hands.
“Then snack it is. Want to start on one side and go up the other? We can check out the other stalls along the way, too.”
Kiyoomi only nodded, eyes already taking in the set up of the night market with curiosity. Out of his field of vision, Atsumu smiled as he watched him, before leading them down a row of stalls to their right.
Atsumu told stories of his memories of night markets with his brother and high school team, laughing about pranks and fails. Kiyoomi in turn told tales of mischief he and Komori got into when they were younger, sharing their shenanigans.
“Oh-” Atsumu suddenly stopped mid sentence, “Look over there. Glazed honey umeboshi. You in?”
Atsumu looked up at him expectantly, and Kiyoomi nearly laughed at how ridiculous it seemed. “Yeah, I’m in,” he scoffed, finally letting go of Atsumu’s hand and patting it off on his coat.
“Alright, I’ll get us some then. You just sit tight.”
Kiyoomi waved him off as he looked around, taking in where he stood in the market. He eyed all the little knick-knack shops and stalls lining the street, finding it unsurprising Atsumu thrived in a place like this. Lights, music, people, excitement - the night market reeked of his energy. Kiyoomi liked the ambiance of the shops, though. Little, weird and unique things were one of his favorite hobbies. There were colorful pinwheels, masks, hand-carved wooden home supplies, interesting sweaters, and more. Kiyoomi wandered through them with glee, admiring all the creative trinkets and hard work put into each of them.
A light glinted and drew his attention to a small stand, not as wide as the rest but made up for the space in shelves. Stepping closer, Kiyoomi greeted the salesman, and realized the shelves were absolutely put to good use. Each one was covered in little figures, all blown glass. The main table, too, surrounded the cash register like a child’s staged plastic army man battle.
"Hello," the man behind the table greeted, "what brings you out tonight?"
Kiyoomi looked up before glancing around the figures again. "A friend," his brows furrowed, wondering if that was the right word. "Are these all your own creations?"
The man puffed his chest with pride, "My own oven and handiwork, yes indeed. No commercialized process in between."
Sakusa couldn't help but smile at the man's own happiness with his work. "They're gorgeous," Eyes drifting across the sea of glass, one in particular caught his eye. "May I touch?"
The shopkeeper nodded, motioning for him to go ahead. Kiyoomi picked up the little glass animal and admired it, turning it in his hands to appreciate its full dynamic stance. He smiled to himself behind the mask. Something about it just stuck out to him.
"How much?" He asked, holding the item with confidence.
~ * ~
By the time Atsumu came back with snacks, Kiyoomi was just finishing up with the stall, tucking the paper bag into his pocket.
"Sorry, the line got kinda long as soon as I walked up," Atsumu offered out a small plate, donned with many brown, wrinkly orbs drizzled in honey and nuts. Smiling, Sakusa took a set of chopsticks on the plate and lifted one between the wooden sticks.
“It’s fine, thank you for getting them,” Kiyoomi pulled his mask down to his chin before bringing the treat to his mouth. He hummed in appreciation, looking at Atsumu and tapping the tray with the chopsticks, motioning for him to have some as well.
“Good?” Atsumu asked with a smile as they walked around more.
“Yes, very,” Sakusa nodded, grabbing for another. “Do you like it?”
Turning the plate in his hands, Atsumu appraised the snack as he responded. “I like this more than regular umeboshi, that’s for sure. I like sweets usually.”
Kiyoomi nodded while looking at other stalls as they walked down the street, “You should eat it more, it’s very healthy. It’s great for physical exertion especially, helps break down lactic acid and keeps you energized.”
Atsumu chuckled before wrapping an arm around Kiyoomi’s waist, pulling him close and out of the way of someone walking by. “Of course you love it then, it’s volleyball related.”
Sakusa blinked and nearly protested the pull before the patron almost walked right into him, but followed suit and said nothing about it as well. “You have no room to tease, you’re a volleyball nerd too.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t,” he responded with a sly smile, and dropped his arm once the coast was clear. “Where to next? Lead the way, chunky monkey.”
Kiyoomi sent him a look of discomfort. “No. Never again.”
The two wandered around the market for a while more, trying different foods and stalls they came across until the sun started to set. A few times here and there touches would linger, but the outing was not terribly out of the ordinary of a typical Black Jackals evening.
However, as the night approached, so did the crowd, and Kiyoomi chided himself for not thinking of it earlier. Night market, more people out at night. He sighed as his forehead settled into a permanent scowl, earlier ease with Atsumu disappearing and becoming quickly replaced with tension. Eventually, he didn’t see the sights of the night market at all, instead focusing on the growing number of people.
Abruptly, Atsumu nudged his side slightly and cocked his head, pulling Sakusa out of his grumbling thoughts. “Hey, come over this way.”
After a centering breath, Sakusa followed after Atsumu, sticking close to his side while keeping his eyes on the ground. After a few minutes, the sea of feet diminished to just four, his own, and the ugly brown boots of Atsumu. When he finally looked up, he was surprised to find the night market gone. Not only that, but all the lights, the people, and the whole city, it seemed.
Before them was a sparsely lit pathway bordering a lookout to a river. Kiyoomi watched as Atsumu walked up to the rail, crossing his arms over it before looking back at him.
Kiyoomi joined him quietly, taking note of the cobblestone and well-kept grass beneath his feet. “I thought we were walking around the market?”
Atsumu only smiled calmly at him before responding, “You were clearly uncomfortable near the end, there. Wanted to get ya somewhere calmer and with less people. It’s a nice view, ain’t it?”
The way Atsumu said the words was like Kiyoomi’s discomfort was the most natural and unapologetic thing in the world. He could only nod in response, a little taken aback by the kindness of his action. Was that the reason he chose such an early meeting time for a typically evening activity?
“Bet it’s even prettier in the daytime.”
“I feel like you’d have to share the moment with everyone else, then. At night, you can just keep it to yourself.”
Atsumu watched Sakusa for a moment before smiling again, “Yeah. I agree.”
After a few moments of silence taking in the calming breeze and rippling water, Sakusa speaks. “So, if you were on a date with your real partner, what would you do from here?”
Dark brows raised in silent question before scrunching in thought. “Can I touch ya?” he asked.
Sakusa watched him as he pulled away from the railing, nodding quietly.
“Wellll,” the blonde began, drawing out the last letter as he positioned himself behind Sakusa, “I’d probably put my hands on ‘er waist, kiss ‘er neck a few times, that kinda thing.”
Sakusa blinked as that was very much not how Atsumu was currently touching him. His hands held the rail on either side of Sakusa’s, chest pressed against his back, yes, but his chin resting on his shoulder. He continued to stand there, in confusion mostly, waiting for Atsumu to move again.
“Omi-omi? Yer stiff as a board. Is this not okay?” His honey eyes peered up at him, color only accentuated by the pathway lamps.
“Oh, that’s it? I’m confused.”
“Oh, I didn’t wanna make ya uncomfortable. You wouldn’t really like me kissin’ and feelin’ you up, would ya?”
For the second time in only 10 minutes, Kiyoomi was at a loss for words at Miya’s actions again.
“No, not really,” he eventually agreed, a hint of a laugh following. “But… this is kind of nice.”
“Is it?” Atsumu asked, pitch rising in tease, “‘Cuz you seriously are tense as hell.”
As Atsumu laughed behind him, Kiyoomi tsked and turned his head away, a blush dusting his cheeks.
“I haven’t done this before, stop laughing at me.”
However, the man entrapping him continued to laugh, only stopping once he muffled it into Kiyoomi’s shoulder. “Just relax. Lean back into me. I promise I won’t drop ya.”
Kiyoomi didn’t have to look over at him to know there was a playful smile on his face. But, he did as he was told, slowly tipping back into Atsumu’s waiting chest. As promised, he stood firm, stepping into Sakusa’s space even to allow him proper support without having to take a step back.
“There,” Atsumu cooed, “Better?”
“This is embarrassing.”
Startled by the reply, Atsumu laughed loud and hard before burying it into Sakusa’s shoulder again. “You don’t like it then?”
A pause before Kiyoomi responded, sinking into Atsumu’s hold, “I didn’t say that.” Behind him, his back rumbled, Atsumu’s attempted muffled laugh resonating through him as well.
“Omi,” he managed between snorts, “ya kill me.”
At that moment, Atsumu’s phone vibrated with an incoming message. “Oh, it’s ‘Samu,” he said, opening the screen in front of the both of them to read what he sent.
From: Rice Imposter
< Hey, think i got something that'll work for ya. How do dumplings sound?
Kiyoomi and Atsumu exchanged a look then, one shrugging, one nodding.
From: Atsumu
> sounds good to us
From: Rice Imposter
< Great. Can you come by tomorrow after practice? Ya probably already have most of the ingredients
From: Atsumu
> yeah, just text me whatever ya need and we’ll get it on the way over
“Well, looks like we got that covered then. I’ve never made dumplings, you?”
Still tucked in Atsumu’s embrace, Kiyoomi shook his head up at him. “Not recently or well. A while ago with my grandma, I think. I’ve only eaten them since then.”
Reminiscing about the past, Kiyoomi remembered the item in his pocket. “Oh, hold on,” Maneuvering under Atsumu’s arms that had now progressed to wrapping around his middle, he shuffled through his pocket before he felt the tissue paper against his finger tips. Interest piqued, Atsumu peeked over Sakusa’s shoulder down at his pocket. Sakusa pulled out a wad of tissue paper, unfolding it in his hands.
When he finished, he held it up to Atsumu’s eye level, and said, “Here. I got this because it reminded me of you.”
Staring back at Atsumu was a blown glass fox, amber in color and tipped white in spots like its tail and chest. Its legs were more transparent, and poised in a casual but confident position.
Atsumu reached up to touch it, but hesitated, glancing at Kiyoomi carefully. “‘S cute, impressive. What made ya think of me? My high school mascot?”
Still tucked into Atsumu’s arms, Kiyoomi shrugged, looking at the knick-knack as he turned it in his hand. “Something about the face,” Kiyoomi waited as Atsumu squinted and leaned closer to get a better look. “It looks like it has a smirk, and I got it on discount because it was uglier than the rest.”
The speed in which Atsumu whipped his neck to look incredulously at the little shit in his arms was enough to hit said little shit with a wave of wind. However, it had no effect on the absolutely smug look on Sakusa’s face, lip quirked high and eyelids dropped in utter confidence.
They stared at each other for a solid moment, a rock of annoyance met by a wall of satisfaction. The rock crumbled, and Atsumu pulled away from Sakusa suddenly, causing him to stumble. “Hope ya like the night Omi-kun, ‘cuz yer walkin’ home.”
“Wha- hey! That’s not very gentlemanly,” Sakusa called after Atsumu, who shoved his hands in his pockets and began walking away.
“Neither is callin’ yer date ugly!” Miya yelled back, pout not hidden on his lips.
Behind him, Sakusa rolled his eyes and took large steps to catch up, grumbling about how dramatic he was. They bickered back and forth the entire way back to the car, where Atsumu did indeed take Kiyoomi back home.
“Well,” Atsumu started with an arm around the passenger’s seat, leaning forward to talk to Kiyoomi after he stepped out of the car. “How was round one?”
Kiyoomi hummed, “Not the worst date I’ve been on.”
Atsumu’s grin dropped. “Huh?! It wasn’t the best either? Bullshit. Who did better than me?” Kiyoomi merely raised an eyebrow. Atsumu’s narrowed in response. “Fine, then the next one is gonna be the best one ya’ve ever been on.”
“That isn’t necessary,” Kiyoomi said as he stood again, stepping away to close the door.
“Sorry Omi-Omi, ya don’t got a say in these dates, I already told ya.”
“That doesn’t seem very proper of a relationship.”
“Good thing it’s pretend then, huh?” Atsumu winked and Kiyoomi couldn’t fight the urge to scowl again. “Have a good night, pork chop! See ya tomorrow!” Atsumu blew a kiss as he drove away, leaving behind a vexed Kiyoomi on his doorway steps.