Chapter Text
Atsumu does not know what to do with this situation.
His brother – his large, rice-hauling, former spiker of a brother – is currently curled up in Akaashi Keiji’s frail lap. He’s almost certain the editor’s bones are snapping under the weight, but he looks entirely unbothered. Of all the things Atsumu expected to see at Bokuto’s Christmas party, this wasn’t it.
Gossip masters Suna and Sakusa, he fully expected. The chaos of Bokuto and Kuroo within the same five-foot radius was also expected. Osamu, when he agreed to come, was expected to loiter in the kitchen or around Suna or something like that.
But he’s not. He’s on Akaashi Keiji’s fucking lap.
“Oi, Samu!”
His brother lazily turns to look at him, still cozied up with Akaashi.
Atsumu watches in morbid fascination as Akaashi’s hand runs up and down his brother’s thigh. He shudders and looks away.
In that gentle, melodic voice of his, Akaashi tells him, “No need to yell, Miya-san”
Osamu makes a strange sound at that, and Akaashi smirks. Smirks. “You can’t call him that,” Osamu protests.
“Can’t I? Darling.” Akaashi presses a hand to Osamu’s cheek as he slowly says the words, looking into Osamu’s eyes the whole time.
Okay, what the fuck?
“You guys are disgusting, thank you very much.” Atsumu takes another large gulp of his drink to mask the taste of his unfortunate life.
Before he has to say much more than that, a cutting, “Tsumu-san!” breaks through the crowd. Hinata, his one and only savior, bounces through the crowd to them.
“Sho-kun!” He tries to telepathically send a message of I’m about to do something stupid, but just follow my lead. It seems their telepathy doesn’t work off the courts though. Perhaps a volleyball is a necessary magical conduit – one that is missing at this party. Either way, he loops his arm around Hinata’s waist, pulling him closer. The sudden contact pulls a little oomph out of Hinata, but he’s still smiling like nobody’s business.
Atsumu leans into Hinata’s ear, carefully facing away from the abomination on the couch. He’s almost certain that they’ll start making out in about three seconds unless he says something else. Maybe even if he chooses to say something else. To Hinata, he says, “We’re dating now, okay? Just for now.”
After a moment of confused glances, Hinata rises up on his toes and presses a kiss to Atsumu’s lips.
After a moment of panic, Atsumu closes his eyes and kisses him back.
This is the story they tell their sister while preparing dinner. Of course, it takes exponentially longer since Osamu keeps arguing about unimportant points of the story and Sayaka-nee keeps asking inflammatory questions.
“So where are they now? Your mysterious boyfriends.”
Osamu rolls his eyes, nimbly sorting through more vegetables for Atsumu to cut before turning back to the bowl of sauce that he is concocting. There’s been a hierarchical conveyor belt system in place at the Miya household since their childhood that remains in place whenever the three of them are left to cook. “There’s nothing mysterious about Hinata. He’s as much of an open book as you’ll ever see.”
Sayaka hums.
Atsumu tries to sound like he isn’t pulling answers out of his ass when he says, “Hinata is with his family in Miyagi. He’s got so many people to visit back there, it didn’t feel right dragging him back here.” It’s probably true, right? Whatever.
“Keiji is working. And then staying in Tokyo for his family events.”
Sayaka wrinkles her nose, waving her knife in the air. “He’s working? That’s boring.”
“He’s a workaholic,” Osamu confirms fondly. “I keep telling him to stop working so hard because they aren’t paying him any extra for his dedication.”
“So will I get to meet them?” Sayaka asks, glancing between the twins. “Or rather, when will I get to meet them?”
Osamu brightens at the question, and Atsumu feels a little sick about it. It’s not that he wishes unhappiness on his brother. He just wishes he had any idea what was happening out there with Akaashi. For all the lovey-dovey atmosphere of the past week or so, Osamu hasn’t told him anything.
The last time he hid something big like that was just before he quit volleyball.
“Can I invite him? I think a vacation will be good for him.”
“I mean.” Sayaka shrugs. “Ask Mom, I guess.”
Osamu pumps his fist in the air victoriously. Their mother loves guests. Even more, she loves seeing her children in love. There’s no way she’ll say no. “I’m going to call him.” He washes his hands and runs out of the room before anyone can stop him.
Atsumu, to his credit, tries to remain neutral about the whole thing. Sayaka knows them inside out, though, and prompts, “Do you want to invite your man too? I’m sure Mom will say yes to you if she says yes to him.” She’s gone a little soft at the edges, recognizing the old pattern of competition in the twins, he’s sure. At least they’re consistent.
Atsumu is conflicted. After a moment, he ends up washing his hands and walking out of the room, echoing Osamu: “I’m going to call him.”
When he leaves the room, though, it’s not Hinata he calls.
He’s chewing on his lip when the call is answered with a haughty, “What, Miya?”
“Omi, do you think Hinata can lie?”
Silence. Then a sigh. “Context?”
“Uh. I may have convinced my sister that we were dating?”
“And?”
“And now she wants to meet him, so I’m actually supposed to be calling him to invite him right now.”
Sakusa pauses. “You’re an idiot. I can see him doing either very well or very poorly with that. How long would he be staying for?”
Atsumu groans. “I know. Just like. A week.”
“Just call him. Don’t tell him you’re supposed to be dating.”
“Then how are we supposed to be a better couple than Osamu and Akaashi?”
“Miya.” Sakusa’s exasperation is passing into dangerous levels. “Just flirt with him like you always do; you’ll be fine.”
Click.
The bastard hangs up on him. So much for helping your best friend in his time of need.
Two days and a few complicated transportation arrangements later, Akaashi Keiji and Hinata Shoyo arrive at the Miya residence. They arrive together – something about a short trip involving several Karasuno, Fukurodani, and Nekoma alumni. Akaashi looks a little worn out already, but Hinata is still bouncing off the walls.
Osamu removes the cap from his head, placing it on Akaashi’s instead. Then, he takes Akaashi's bags with a boyish grin. Atsumu tilts his head as he watches them like a fox.
“Tsumu-san, can we have a house tour?” The buoyant voice draws his eyes over to his own guest. Hinata’s smile is blinding. “Oh! I brought this for your mom. My mom insisted.” He holds up a festive bag. Atsumu assumes that it contains cookies or some other variety of generic sweets to be gifted to a host.
He takes the bag from Hinata’s hands, grazing his teammate’s fingertips as he does so. “She’s not home right now, but we can put it in the kitchen.”
At Hinata’s sound of enthusiastic agreement – some kind of gwaahhh! that Atsumu has gotten used to from practice – Osamu and Akaashi giggle a little, the editor’s hand finding Osamu’s arm in the process. Atsumu can’t resist a smirk himself. Osamu prompts, “We’ll tour upstairs, and you guys take downstairs?”
Atsumu doesn’t like the sparkle in Akaashi’s eyes at that idea. It is too early in their visit for these shenanigans. “Absolutely not; why don’t you give Hinata the tour, and I’ll take ‘Kaashi-kun?”
His twin squints at him for just a moment, then shrugs. “Fine. C’mon, Hinata.”
Hinata bounds after him, already rattling off questions about the Miya household and Onigiri Miya at the speed of light. Akaashi, on the other hand, removes the cap from his head and stands very politely and very quietly in the genkan. He looks almost out of place in the countryside house of the Miyas, being his proper Tokyo born and raised self (Not that Atsumu is fooled. He’s seen this man with Bokuto Koutaro. He is certainly not a generic Tokyo gentleman. Although, to be honest, Atsumu doesn’t know what generic Tokyo gentleman even means, because he’s never actually met one. They’ve all been so weird).
On autopilot, Atsumu leads Akaashi through the house, pausing at the portrait hallway for Akaashi to look at all the pictures of the Miya siblings growing up. “I didn’t know you had a sister,” Akaashi comments at one point. The picture he’s looking at is an aged portrait of the siblings at Sayaka’s high school graduation. The twins had been smaller than her then, and she had an arm wrapped around each of the boys as all three smiled their teethiest smiles. Atsumu is missing a tooth right in the middle.
“Ah. She’s in the kitchen right now, actually. Want to say hello?”
Akaashi ruffles his hair as if that’ll fix it to something other than the style it is already stuck in. “I see. I’ll greet her in a moment.” He continues to shuffle down the hall, observing every picture frame with his hands behind his back. Atsumu knows this stance - the grandpa stance. Impatiently, Atsumu fidgets with Hinata’s gift bag. My house is not a museum,’Kaashi-kun. Let’s move it along a bit faster here.
“She’s scarier than me,” Atsumu warns half-jokingly.
“You’re not scary,” Akaashi says seriously, that horribly endearing smirk stealing across his face again. He stops at a picture of the twins in Inarizaki volleyball uniforms. It was their first picture in their high school jerseys, much twiggier than Akaashi probably remembers. Aran is somewhere in the back of that picture; the picture taken immediately after was a blur of the three boys in a collision as Aran crashed into them trying to get into the shot.
“’Kaashi-kun?”
“Hm?”
“What are your intentions with my brother?”
Akaashi faces him then, running his fingers gently across the brim of Osamu’s hat. “Nothing nefarious. And none of your business.”
Atsumu snorts. “He’s my twin; of course it’s my business.”
“It would be if I hurt him,” Akaashi says with a sense of…finality? Atsumu isn’t sure. Unsaid, his eyes seem to portray, And I’m not here to hurt him.
Though he’d rather die than admit it, Akaashi is exactly the kind of person Atsumu is least equipped to deal with. He’s used to dealing with hotheads who rise to every provocation and challenge. Akaashi does none of that, shutting everything down the moment it starts. Nothing rattles him. Atsumu is determined to figure out what his weakness is during his stay here, if only to hold it over his head as a threat in case Akaashi ever breaks up with his dear baby brother.