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“What happened to yer old one?” Atsumu asks, nodding to Kiyoomi’s daily scripture guide book as he sets down his bag in Kiyoomi’s bedroom. “Ya lose it?”
“It’s a monthly subscription,” Kiyoomi tells him. Each month his dad sends him a new booklet to guide him on what verse of the bible to read along with a life lesson. He’s been using them every year since he received his first bible from his parents for Christmas when he was 12. They’re like a personal diary for him, writing important thoughts that pass through his head while reading scripture. Mostly about life challenges and how he can overcome them, though lately they’ve been about Atsumu.
Atsumu who has been his best friend since middle school and high school, two rude jerks finding comfort in each other’s presence. Their unlikely friendship started with their first training camp together when they were in middle school and got paired to warm up together. Kiyoomi was ready for Atsumu to comment on how gross his wrists were and how annoying he was with how particular he was with how someone could touch him. Atsumu was neither of those things and if anything just begged Kiyoomi the entire time to keep showing him just how flexible he was. Ever since then they’ve been inseparable during training camps and tournaments. They couldn’t see each other often because of the distance, but they texted every day.
Atsumu seems to be making up for that lost time by visiting Kiyoomi every chance he gets. His team is in Osaka, Kiyoomi is still in Tokyo - it means nothing to Miya Atsumu.
“What d’ya write in it anyway?” Atsumu asks, fingers reaching to open the little booklet and snoop. Kiyoomi manages to dive in right at the last second and snatches it away. With a smirk, Atsumu watches him toss it into his dresser. “Naughty boy.”
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. “Stop being gross, it’s nothing like that.” He’d never write that kind of filth besides such holy words. But it is embarrassing, especially in the last few months when Kiyoomi’s feelings towards Atsumu have started to change.
“Yer dad should be ashamed of ya.”
“He’s not because it’s nothing like what you’re thinking.”
“Then lemme read it! C’mon, it’s not like I’m gonna burn up just by touchin’ somethin’ biblical.”
Sakusa Kousuke, Kiyoomi’s father, would beg to differ. He’s a pastor at a church in the suburbs of Tokyo and very judgmental of Kiyoomi and Atsumu’s friendship, especially these last few months. Every time Kiyoomi mentions his name on his weekly phone calls with his father it feels like he’s doing damage control. Miya was seen with another omega - is he sleeping with them? Kiyoomi, pre-marital sex is a sin you know. Have him come to church with you next Sunday, I will speak with him.
“It’s personal,” Kiyoomi says instead.
“And I’m yer best friend.” Atsumu gives him an incredulous look, like he can’t believe that Kiyoomi isn’t willing to share every single detail of his life with him. With a dramatic sigh, Atsumu falls down onto the couch that’s been set up for him. “Fine, keep yer secrets.” Kiyoomi needs to hide it better because Atsumu will snoop for it if given the chance.
“How is the team?” Kiyoomi asks as a segue because it always works. Even if Atsumu has told him all he possibly can about the Black Jackals, he’ll still rehash it. How their left wing spiker right now isn’t great, but they’re looking to poach one from the Rockets. Or how this is their captain’s last season before he retires and they’re looking at the senior players to replace him. Atsumu has money on Meian Shuugo and Kiyoomi has to agree - he’s a strong player and commands respect from what Kiyoomi has seen.
Atsumu talks to Kiyoomi about the team and his conditioning schedule until the sun has set and their stomachs are growling. They order enough food to stuff themselves and have some leftovers for Kiyoomi’s dinners this week. While they eat they watch a movie but Kiyoomi can’t really pay attention to it because Atsumu talks almost the entire time.
When they finish and Atsumu goes to take his shower first, Kiyoomi hides his book under the mattress. A few months ago it wouldn’t be the end of the world if Atsumu found it and read the pages - mostly him complaining about how difficult his classes are, a few about his trouble finding friends who are mature enough for his taste (funny considering Atsumu laughed at a fart joke earlier), and other mundane comments. Now . . .
Some weird part of Kiyoomi wants Atsumu to sneak his way into the pages and see what Kiyoomi thinks of him. The love he has for him as more than just a friend, the appreciation for staying by his side even through long distance and petty fights, the admiration for starting in a brand new city without knowing anyone around him. It’s things that Kiyoomi can’t find in him to say aloud - too afraid of spilling more than he means to.
What they have is good. Atsumu scents Kiyoomi’s clothes so no alphas try to make any unwanted moves, and he has something to soothe him during their heats. Kiyoomi’s sure that’s what probably ignited these feelings, but he wouldn’t change it. It also doesn’t help that he knows Atsumu likes Kiyoomi’s specific scent for his ruts even if he has every omega in Osaka wrapped around his finger.
When Atsumu comes out of the shower, Kiyoomi lets him pick out a face mask and another movie while he takes his own shower. It’s distracting once he’s in the bathroom and smelling Atsumu’s soap and unmasked scent, but he tries to focus and cleans up as quickly as he can.
After Kiyoomi’s finished and comes out, Atsumu has already picked a stupid movie from their childhood to put on to fall asleep to, which Kiyoomi knows he won’t make it past the first twenty minutes. It’s their norm - Atsumu picks the movie and Kiyoomi watches the entire thing by himself. Few words are exchanged between them aside from some comments from Atsumu about the movie and the face mask, maybe a comment from Kiyoomi about his schedule - nothing more.
Until thirty minutes in when Kiyoomi is sure he’s the only one still awake, Atsumu startles him with a question.
“Come to my game against the Rockets?”
Kiyoomi looks over to the couch to find Atsumu already looking back at him. “In Osaka?”
“Yeah,” Atsumu says as he pulls his blankets to his chin. “Two Saturdays from now. I want ya to meet the team afterwards.”
The implication is there. Saturday evening game in a different city where Kiyoomi would have to stay the night . . . and miss his father’s Sunday service which Kiyoomi has only missed twice in his life and only due to illness. But this game must mean a lot to Atsumu if he’s asking Kiyoomi to break one of his family's most enforced rules.
“Um,” Kiyoomi starts.
“Nah, nevermind. Don’t worry about it-”
“I’ll come.”
Atsumu stops from turning away from Kiyoomi and looks at him with wide eyes. “Really?!” He’s practically jumping out of his makeshift bed at the surprise. “Omi, are ya serious?”
“Yes.” Atsumu’s excitement is quickly squashing any of Kiyoomi’s anxieties and doubts as usual. It’s contagious like most things about Atsumu. “Settle down, it’s not like you just asked to court me.”
Atsumu’s still grinning from ear to ear and Kiyoomi is almost positive he’ll be asked about it again in the morning because he thinks he’s asleep. Atsumu settles back down onto his bed and smiles up at the ceiling. “I didn’t think ya’d say yes. I know how yer dad is about missin’ Sunday service.”
“Why did you ask then?”
Atsumu shrugs. “This game’s important to me. I’m gonna be the starter and coach says he wants to see how I do on court the whole match.” Kiyoomi knows Atsumu’s played here and there, mostly as a pinch server or a last ditch effort if they’re down in points. But against the Rockets, Atsumu will be announced as the team’s setter to the stadium, he’ll walk out with the teams, start the game, and probably be the first to get a service ace. This game will make or break his career with the Jackals.
“Then it’s important to me, too.”
“Yer getting soft on me, Omi. What happened to my Kiyoomi who used to call me stupid?”
“I still do that, I just do it with less hate in my heart.” Atsumu lets out a loud yawn after. “Go to sleep. The answer will still be yes in the morning.” His grin will be burned into Kiyoomi’s retinas, he’ll see it when he closes his eyes tonight after the movie has long since finished, and even after that.
“No, I’m fine, I just - “ Kiyoomi scratches his forehead. He’s already on the train to Osaka, but his mother, Miyu, is somehow holding him hostage over the phone. “You don’t need to come over, I’m okay. It’s just a headache, but I think it will be a bad one.”
“You’re studying too hard,” she tells him. “And you’re probably staying up late to talk to that boy.”
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. Atsumu is a sore subject with his parents even if Kiyoomi defends him until he’s blue in the face. They say he’s a bad influence on Kiyoomi, that he’s not religious, that he’s the antichrist - the usual. “I’m studying a healthy amount and I get the recommended amount of sleep. It’s just the weather.”
His mother’s sigh crackles over the phone. “Alright sweetie,” she says. “I’ll send you the readings for tomorrow. It’s important you read them even if you won’t be with us.”
“Of course,” Kiyoomi agrees. She’ll send him a few other readings, too. Maybe a bible study video and a prerecorded service video. Kiyoomi will watch it on the train just to appease her and relieve some of his guilt.
“It’s not your heat is it?” she asks in a hushed tone like it’s something to be embarrassed about.
“No!” Kiyoomi quickly defends. “It’s not.”
“I know how hard they hit you. You still have our scented items, right?”
“It’s not my heat, it’s just a headache.”
“You’ll be vulnerable during it, I’m going to come over-”
“Mom!” Kiyoomi snaps, then quickly looks around the quiet train. “I’m fine. It’s just a headache. Look, I’m going to get some sleep and try to get rid of it.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Tell dad I’m sorry.”
She’s quiet for a moment and he feels bad for worrying her when the truth is that he’s just lying to her. But he knows she would never let him miss a Sunday service if she knew he was going to Osaka to visit Atsumu. This is better for everyone. Finally, she lets him go with a soft feel better.
Kiyoomi was never really a rebellious child growing up, he let his oldest sister handle that. Instead he did as he was told, studied hard to get good grades, and trained hard to be someone in volleyball. He attributes all of this to the reason his stomach aches with nerves. It’s twisted and mangled and even thinking about his family is close to sending him into a spiral. The only thing really helping him get through it is Atsumu’s excited text and messy itinerary. He’s pulled strings to get Kiyoomi VIP tickets and has everything arranged for him from lodging to dinner plans to meeting Coach Foster. Kiyoomi’s been eyeing the Black Jackals as one of his top teams for a few years now and his interest only got solidified when Atsumu joined. Having an in with them like this will be incredibly beneficial to Kiyoomi’s future career.
He sends Atsumu a quick text telling him he’s on the train and rolls his eyes at the assault of exclamation marks and emojis sent back to him. After the third consecutive message from Atsumu, Kiyoomi turns his phone on do not disturb and starts working on some schoolwork. Though he doesn’t get through too much before he grows bored from it and goes back to his phone where his mom has sent over the readings and a few bible study videos.
And Atsumu has texted him another five times with the most recent one turning Kiyoomi’s face flush.
can’t wait to see u. means a lot to me that ur coming <3
Kiyoomi drops his phone into his lap and smushes his palms against his cheeks. Atsumu’s always been corny like this, though it’s only been affecting Kiyoomi recently since he’s realized his feelings for him. Now it’s awful trying not to blush at Atsumu’s honeyed accent always sweet talking Kiyoomi.
He quickly moves on from that message to his mother’s list of Sunday readings and an hour long prayer service video. He pulls out his mini bible to read through, though he has a hard time paying attention to the words with Atsumu still on his mind. When he finishes reading and then rereading, he moves onto the prayer service video and pretends he’s listening to his father’s sermon instead.
As the train announces they’ll be arriving at the station soon, Kiyoomi plays with the silver cross necklace he has, twisting and feeling the blunt ends as he watches through the window. He’s only been to Osaka a few times since Atsumu’s schedule is more flexible with weeknight visits, but he’s come during a break a few times. Never on a weekend.
Atsumu is waiting for him at the station once Kiyoomi gets off the train and leaves the terminal. His fame is starting to pick up enough that he’s had to start wearing some kind of coverup in public now. But Kiyoomi would recognize him anywhere even if he’s wearing a baseball cap and hoodie. He sees Atsumu first, but it isn’t long until Kiyoomi sees that big grin spread across his face and he’s walking towards Kiyoomi.
“Ya made it!” Atsumu says, eyes crinkling from how wide his smile is. “Thought ya’d get cold feet.”
“Everything has already been paid for, it would have been a waste.”
“And ‘cause ya love me and cherish me, right?”
“No.”
Atsumu rolls his eyes but still takes Kiyoomi’s suitcase from him. “Ya gotta be nicer to people,” Atsumu says as if he’s the icon of a good personality. “You’ll never find an alpha if you look like ya hate everyone.”
“I do hate everyone.”
Atsumu elbows him in the side. “Not me, right?” Kiyoomi’s silent. “Omi!”
“I’m hungry,” Kiyoomi says. “And food is on you this weekend.”
Atsumu drops his head with a sigh. “Yeah, it’s on me. Even if ya hate me.”
They spend the whole day following Atsumu’s itinerary which is essentially an amateur tour of the city. Kiyoomi has been here before, but he lets Atsumu drag him through busy streets to different shrines, shopping centers, and parks. They head back to Atsumu’s apartment a few hours before the game so they can both freshen up. It’s packed on the train back to his apartment, but Atsumu manages to fit Kiyoomi into a tight corner and then protects him from the cramped car. And as if that wasn’t enough to make Kiyoomi’s stomach flutter, the way Atsumu glares at an alpha who "accidentally" swipes Kiyoomi. He then rubs his own scent gland against Kiyoomi to mask the foreign scent and squeezes even closer so it doesn’t happen again.
“The team’s gonna love ya,” Atsumu says when they finally get back to his apartment. “They’re great guys.”
“So I’ve heard.” He’s not overly excited to meet the entire team of alphas at a bar tonight, but Atsumu seems convinced that’s the best place to get to know them - drunk and rowdy after a game. “And they’re fine with me coming?”
“Yeah, the guys bring their mates all the time.” Kiyoomi squashes the butterflies in his stomach as fast as he can. “They’ll be cool about it. Ya can probably talk to some of the other omegas if ya start to get overwhelmed.” Kiyoomi nods and refuses to let the imagination of him as Atsumu’s mate spread like wildfire. They’re best friends, and that’s all Kiyoomi is going to be tonight.
Kiyoomi gets courtside seats, almost close enough to hear their game plans in between each set, and definitely close enough to see Atsumu wipe the sweat from his brow with the hem of his jersey. Kiyoomi’s trying really hard not to openly stare at him because he knows there’s cameras all around and he’s seen what Atsumu’s fans do online to the omegas he’s seen with. It’s hard when it feels like Atsumu’s deliberately trying to catch Kiyoomi’ attention. He starts fiddling with the cross around his neck again, the blunt ends of it pushing hard into his fingertips to remind him how he should act.
The game runs the full five sets. The Rockets look like they have it in the bag the first two sets and Kiyoomi was sure the game would end quickly after that. But then Atsumu scored one service ace, then another, and another until the other team was scrambling. By the time the Rockets finally scored a point, the Jackals were too far in the lead. After that, Kiyoomi was on the edge of his seat the rest of the game. In the final set, both teams were exhausted, but neither were willing to lose. One endless volley after the other.
“Yours is really good,” one of the player’s mate tells Kiyoomi. “Miya Atsumu, right?”
“Oh,” Kiyoomi says flustered. “He’s not-”
“Oliver wasn’t too sure about him at first,” she says. “He thinks he’s too cocky, but it looks like he can back it up.”
Kiyoomi looks back to the court. Atsumu has that hungry look in his eyes, like he’ll do anything to win this game. He probably doesn’t even remember Kiyoomi’s on the sideline anymore, too busy playing his heart out to prove to everyone he’s meant to be here. Up until this game, Atsumu only subbed in as a last ditch effort or for serves only. This will change things. He plays the team like no other setter Kiyoomi has worked with, showcasing their strengths and making them look good. To anyone who doesn’t understand volleyball, they’d think it’s the hitters making the points look easy. In reality, it’s almost always been Atsumu.
“Yeah he can,” Kiyoomi says right before Atsumu feints and goes for a setter dump instead. There’s a chorus of cheers as Atsumu grins down at the player who tried to save the ball. Then it goes absolutely silent to Kiyoomi when Atsumu turns and looks straight at him.
The Jackals win, and though Kiyoomi had doubts about it the first two sets, once he saw that feral look in Atsumu’s eye, he knew it was over. When Atsumu wants something, he gets it. While waiting for Atsumu to finish showering so they could go to the bar, Kiyoomi scrolls through his phone and saw that his fans had already gone wild with edits of him. Volleyball accounts praised Atsumu, replays flooded his feed of Atsumu’s service aces - Atsumu will eat this up later.
“Ready?” Atsumu asks, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. His hair is still damp like he rushed out without properly drying it. If he gets sick this weekend, Kiyoomi will lecture him on it.
Kiyoomi nods and they head out to the bar. Apparently it’s their usual place after each game with a back room big enough to hold everyone. The owner is cousins with one of the chairman for MSBY or something - Atsumu didn’t relay the information well because he didn’t really know himself.
A chorus of laughter rings out from their reserved back room, and Kiyoomi’s anxiety is back. Atsumu seems to sense it and gently elbows him in the side. “If yer feelin’ too overwhelmed, let me know and we can go back.”
“No, this is your night. You played well, you deserve this.”
“Whether I’m celebratin’ here or at home, I don’t really care as long as yer here.”
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. “You’re such a flirt.”
The moment between them is gone when one of the players spots Atsumu through the cracked door and calls out to him. “Get in here Miya!”
“Seriously, Omi. Just say the word and I’ll take us home.” Atsumu adds a wink as if his words haven’t been enough to send Kiyoomi’s entire nervous system into a shut down. Atsumu leads them in, the team cheering loudly the second they see him enter the room. Kiyoomi follows close behind him to their reserved seats. Thankfully, Kiyoomi has an end seat beside Atsumu, so he won’t have to worry about someone else bumping into him all night. “Y’all guys started already? Did ya skip out on the last set or somethin’?”
There’s a brief introduction of Kiyoomi, and a promise that they should remember his name. Kiyoomi bows and thanks them for letting him join their celebratory dinner and a round of niceties before everyone gets back to their own conversation. It’s mostly banter between all of the players with some of the mates chiming in here and there. Kiyoomi tries to keep up, but it’s clear there’s history behind every quip and laugh. Though he doesn’t understand most of the inside jokes, it’s fun to watch Atsumu like this. Kiyoomi knows that a close team means a lot to him and it’s usually more than just a career to him - he likes knowing what makes his teammates tick and that means knowing everything about them. Kiyoomi’s been in that position before even though it was just for a short training camp.
Though Kiyoomi isn’t the only one watching Atsumu. There’s a boy around their age sitting towards the end of the table next to Barnes and his mate. He laughs loudest at Atsumu’s jokes and he hasn’t taken his eyes off of Atsumu since they entered the room. Kiyoomi doesn’t recognize him from the roster, though there are a few staff members here tonight besides just players. It doesn’t take a mind reader to know this omega is in love with Atsumu - every face he makes when looking at Atsumu is identical to every one that Kiyoomi’s made.
It kind of pisses Kiyoomi off.
Atsumu is a catch. That’s obvious considering Atsumu’s history with omegas and always having one around him. But those have been flings. Kiyoomi knows this because Atsumu’s never spoken about them for longer than a few seconds with Kiyoomi - they come and go before Kiyoomi can even learn their names. Whoever this omega is will just be another brief mention in their daily text chain, and then never again.
Kiyoomi leans closer to Atsumu, watching the omega’s eyes dart to him with irritation. It’s fun to see him get worked up over their relationship, until Atsumu turns to Kiyoomi with concern. “Still doin’ okay?”
Kiyoomi doesn’t have a real reason to get so close to Atsumu, and he’s having more fun than he thought he would have. “Yeah, just a little cold.”
Atsumu playfully rolls his eyes and pulls his jacket off the back of his chair. “Ya have such bad circulation,” he says softly, putting it over Kiyoomi’s shoulders. “Ya should’ve brought yer hoodie.”
If Kiyoomi weren’t so trapped in Atsumu’s caring eyes, he’d love to know what that omega looks like right now. “Thanks.”
“Just ‘friends’, huh?” Inunaki shouts from the end of the table.
Atsumu gets pulled into a shouting match with Inunaki after that with jabs and insults thrown across the table. Kiyoomi’s ears will be ringing long after they’ve settled for bed. Meian’s mate across from him leans forward. “Yer studyin’ in Tokyo, right?”
Kiyoomi nods, pulling Atsumu’s jacket tighter around his shoulders. “Sports medicine. I’d like to be a trainer for the divisions if I don’t join the league.”
“I don’t think you’ll have a problem gettin’ drafted,” Meian adds, finishing off his beer. “Miya’s been talkin’ ya up ever since he joined, and our scouter keeps an eye on the high school players. Top Three Aces, right?”
Kiyoomi nods. “I don’t have any doubt in my ability,” he says. “Just . . . personal reasons. I’d like to join a team after I graduate, I’d just prefer to have a back up plan.” His parents were adamant he got a proper education before continuing volleyball. He’s an omega after all, they typically don’t last long in the league.
“I already got a spot for him on the Jackals when he graduates,” Atsumu interrupts, throwing an arm over the back of Kiyoomi’s chair. “Told Foster and everythin’.”
“I’m keeping my options open.”
Atsumu scoffs. “Where else would ya go?”
“I hear the Adler’s have a pretty strong setter.” Atsumu’s eyes darken at the mention of Kageyama. “And Motoya plays for the Rajins.”
“Ya know him?” Meian asks. “He’s tough to go against.”
“He’s my cousin,” Kiyoomi says. “He’s trying to get me on that team, too.”
Atsumu waves him off. “Where are ya gonna get a setter like me?”
Just to tease, Kiyoomi says, “The Hornets have my old setter.”
“Kiyoomi!”
Meian whistles low. “Yer generation really are monsters. Most of the kids I played with in school found normal jobs, sounds like ya two are lucky. Or you’re all obsessed with volleyball.”
“Both,” Atsumu says with a proud grin. “Once ya find a hitter like Omi, ya don’t let him go.”
After a few more rounds of jokes and laughter, the older players call it a night and start to head out. Atsumu decides for them that they’ll also head out. Kiyoomi didn’t say anything because he knew Atsumu was having fun, but he’s glad to be heading home. He had to leave early this morning for the train, and he’s exhausted.
Kiyoomi tries to give Atsumu’s jacket back to him, but it’s refused. “Yer just gonna complain about being cold anyway. Besides, ya know I run warm.” It’s not like Kiyoomi will fight him about it. The jacket is exuding Atsumu’s scent, and there’s something about having MIYA on his back that is really doing something for Kiyoomi.
“They’re nice. Loud, but nice.”
Atsumu grins. “They’re a bunch of great guys. It feels good to be on a team with people who are serious about the sport.”
Kiyoomi understands. Even now, it’s difficult to get all of his teammates to care about the game for more than just a match or two. For them, it’s just a chapter in their life, but for Kiyoomi, it’s all he wants. “That boy at the end,” Kiyoomi says, deciding to bring it up. Mostly to tease Atsumu about it more than anything. “Who is he?”
“Hiro-kun?” Kiyoomi only knows the team roster and nothing more. Atsumu’s dropped a few names here and there, but never enough for Kiyoomi to commit them. “He’s an assistant manager.”
“Oh.”
“Why?”
Kiyoomi shrugs. “I didn’t recognize him. And you’ve never talked about him before.”
“Not much to say. He’s nice but he laughs too much. But he does give me special treatment. He’s an omega, so sometimes the alphas will give him some scented items for his heats.” Kiyoomi doesn’t like the idea of Atsumu’s scented shirt being Hiro’s favorite, but he won’t say anything. Though he doesn’t need to because Atsumu somehow knows whatever Kiyoomi’s thinking. “Jealous?”
Kiyoomi scoffs, tucking his shoulders to his ears. “Why would I be jealous of him?”
Atsumu shrugs. He’s wearing his cocky smirk, the one he always wears when he knows he’s right. “An omega, surrounded by big, strong alphas?”
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. “He’s in love with you, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. I had a fan club in high school, I know when someone wants me.”
“You don’t want to date him?”
“I don’t want to date anyone.”
Kiyoomi feels his stomach churn. It makes sense why no one ever lasted long around Atsumu, just a few flings here or there. Nothing ever serious. Kiyoomi was glad they weren’t real, but hearing why makes his heart ache. “Why?”
Atsumu looks back at him. “Ya don’t know why?”
They’re best friends. Almost everything Kiyoomi knows about Atsumu has been learned unwillingly or through hours of late night conversations. But he doesn’t know this. “No, I don’t.”
“Use that pretty head of yers, Omi.”
Kiyoomi’s breath catches as they hold each other’s gaze. It’s only broken when Kiyoomi trips over an uneven sidewalk and nearly falls face first into the hard concrete if Atsumu hadn’t caught him. “Thanks,” Kiyoomi says breathlessly.
“Ya should watch where yer walkin’,” Atsumu jokes.
“Right,” Kiyoomi mumbles and decides for the rest of the walk back, his eyes won’t leave this pavement. Atsumu is a flirt, he likes getting omegas flustered so he and his alpha can feel proud. He knows what happens to an omega that Atsumu gets bored of and Kiyoomi isn’t willing to become one of them. “What are we doing tomorrow?”
He can feel Atsumu still looking at him, but after seeing Kiyoomi’s not going to reciprocate he sighs and looks up. “There’s an aquarium here I think ya’d like. Maybe visit a few museums. Yer train doesn’t leave until late afternoon, so we should have some time.”
“Okay.” Kiyoomi pulls the jacket tighter. He was cold in the restaurant, though that wasn’t his reason for getting closer to Atsumu. He’s glad he has it now with the crisp night air.
The rest of the walk back is silent except for a few things Atsumu points out to him. Like the convenience store he bought the worst onigiri at, or the pharmacy where he had to buy suppressants because his rut was going to be awful. They get back to his apartment shortly after and Atsumu lets get ready for bed first.
The apartment he has in Osaka is very humble. His salary isn’t great yet, and he barely had any money in his savings. It’s small and a little cramped, but Atsumu keeps it clean. The downside is that there’s no place for Kiyoomi to sleep except for a traditional futon in Atsumu’s bedroom. After Kiyoomi’s taken his shower and done a shortened skin care routine, he crawls under his covers and realizes just how tired he really is. Though when he closes his eyes, Atsumu’s words replay over and over in his head.
He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to block it out, but it’s so loud. He knows he should make Atsumu be clear because Kiyoomi hates vague conversations. It makes him feel like he’s reading a poorly translated version of the bible with too many misinterpretations of the scripture.
When Atsumu comes back into the room, Kiyoomi pretends to be asleep. He needs more time to think before he jumps to the wrong conclusion and makes a fool of himself. He listens to Atsumu’s nighttime routine and the rustle of cloth as he gets into bed. After that, it’s quiet for a while and Kiyoomi is sure he’s fallen asleep.
“Omi,” Atsumu says then, startling him.
Kiyoomi’s pretending to be asleep. He shouldn’t answer him, he should ignore him and . . . “What?”
“I don’t wanna date Hiro-kun. Or anyone for that matter.”
“I know, you already-”
“Stop talkin’.” Kiyoomi almost throws a pillow at him. “I don’t wanna date anyone ‘cause there’s only one person I want.”
Kiyoomi’s heart sinks to his stomach. “Oh.” Then, “who is it?”
“Ya really don’t know?”
“No.” These stupid vague answers again, and Atsumu isn’t offering anything else. When he turns around to complain, Atsumu’s looking right at him and something clicks in his brain. “But you . . .” His mouth opens and closes like a fish, jumbled thoughts making it nearly impossible to form a coherent sentence. “You never showed me any interest.”
Atsumu laughs at that. “I’ve flirted with ya since our first high school trainin’ camp.”
“You flirt with everyone.” Kiyoomi frowns. “You sleep with everyone.”
“Okay, ouch. I do not sleep with everyone, stop believin’ everythin’ ya read online.” Atsumu sits up. “I flirt with everyone, but I don’t spend half my paycheck on train tickets to Tokyo for them, and I don’t invite them to dinner with the team after, either.”
“You never said anything.”
Atsumu groans and throws his head into his hands. “I thought I didn’t have to. I thought ya’d finally pick it up this weekend.”
“Well clearly-”
“Kiyoomi,” Atsumu interrupts. “I like ya. Is that clear enough for ya?”
Kiyoomi’s heart is beating in his chest so loudly, he’s sure Atsumu can hear it in the silence between them. “Yeah, that’s clear enough,” he says quietly.
“And ‘cause I can read signs, I think ya like me, too. Right?” Kiyoomi clears his throat. He doesn’t know why he thought he could hide from Atsumu who knows him so well. He looks away and nods his head awkwardly. There’s a rustle as Atsumu gets out of bed and goes to Kiyoomi on the floor. “Since yer so bad at readin’ signs,” Atsumu starts, sitting on the edge of Kiyoomi’s futon. “I really wanna kiss ya now.”
Another awkward nod. Kiyoomi’s fists are balled tightly, his heart beating so hard in his chest he thinks it will burst through. “Okay.”
“Stop lookin’ like yer in pain,” Atsumu jokes. He reaches for one of Kiyoomi’s hands and strokes his thumb over his knuckles. “Can I kiss ya?”
“I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
“Good,” Atsumu says, leaning closer. “I don’t want ya tastin’ another alpha.”
Kiyoomi scoffs, feeling some of the tension in his body lighten. “You’re jealous.”
“How can I not be when it comes to ya?” His eyes flicker back and forth as he searches Kiyoomi’s own eyes. “Is this okay?”
Kiyoomi nods minutely and lets his eyes slip shut as Atsumu leans even closer. The first press of their lips as Kiyoomi’s skin warming like he’s found a sunny spot to nap in. Atsumu’s hand finds its way to Kiyoomi’s face and cups his cheek. It’s a soft kiss, not like the ones he’s seen in the movies, but it’s nice. Kiyoomi never gave much thought to kissing before, he just thought it’s what two people did when they loved each other. He didn’t realize it would actually feel this nice.
Atsumu breaks the kiss first, leaning back and scooting closer. “Talk to me,” he says softly. “What’s in that pretty head of yers?”
Kiyoomi feels his face flush and he has to break eye contact if he wants his heart to stay in his chest. “I don’t know.”
“Did ya like it?”
“Yeah. I just . . . never thought this would happen.”
Atsumu laughs softly. They’re so close, Kiyoomi can feel his breath fan across his cheek. “Ya never thought the guy who has spent the last six years obsessed with ya would ever like ya back?”
Kiyoomi glares at him. “You didn’t exactly make it clear.”
“Well I’m makin’ it clear now.” Atsumu steals another quick kiss faster than Kiyoomi can react. “Everyone was clownin’ me when I said ya were coming, I thought they were gonna embarrass me tonight.”
Kiyoomi steals a kiss back just because he can. “More than you already would have done yourself?”
“Not even five minutes into our relationship, and yer already mean to me.”
“Relationship?” Kiyoomi teases.
“Yer really gonna make me ask?”
Kiyoomi shrugs, leaning away from Atsumu. “It’s my first one. You don’t want to make a bad impression.”
Atsumu smirks and follows after Kiyoomi anyway. “Please let me be yer boyfriend.” He goes for a kiss but moves at the last second and kisses Kiyoomi’s cheek. Then another kiss a little lower to Kiyoomi’s jaw.
“Okay,” Kiyoomi says breathlessly. The kisses to his neck tickle, but he finds he doesn’t mind it. “I don’t know how, though.”
“It’ll be easy, just follow my lead.”
“No headache today?” Kiyoomi’s brother, Keishi, asks him at their family dinner. He’s got his newborn strapped to his chest, a little girl named Mizuki, who looks exactly like Keishi. Her eyes keep closing, but she’s still fighting sleep.
“No, I’m trying a new medicine,” Kiyoomi lies. The last few weeks, Kiyoomi’s been getting out of family gatherings to meet up with Atsumu whenever he can. Sometimes they just talk on the phone for hours, other times they meet halfway and spend the day in a small town. Kiyoomi feels guilty about lying to his family, but he’s felt so good lately being with Atsumu. He knows his family wouldn’t approve if they knew the truth, so he keeps it to himself and decides that’s an issue for another time.
“That’s good,” Keishi says. “Father’s been upset you’ve missed so many bible studies.”
Kiyoomi nods and looks down at his lap. “I’ve apologized to him. With my busy schedule, I’ve suffered quite a few of them.”
“Well, you’ve been in all of our prayers.”
“Thanks.”
The rest of their family joins soon after, following after their mother with a bowl of food in her hands. Everyone sets down their dish and takes a seat. Their family has grown more and more now that Keishi and his mate have been having children left and right. Kiyoomi keeps swatting his oldest nephew’s hand whenever he tries to sneak a piece of food during his father’s prayer.
“It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve gotten together for a meal,” Miyu says, passing around bowls and helping the grandchildren serve themselves. “Keishi’s been so busy with the pups, and with Kiyoomi’s health issues. . .” She smiles widely. “The Lord has blessed us, right honey?”
“A beautiful family and a rewarding life meant to serve him,” his father says, grinning at his mate and children. “I’d say so.”
Their conversations go around the table with each of them updating about their lives since the last time they had dinner a week ago. Most of it is monopolized by Keishi and his mate talking about their pups’ accomplishments. They’re still young, so it’s really all hand painting and field days.
When it gets around to Kiyoomi, he answers simply - school, volleyball, studying. What he doesn’t mention is the endless conversations he has with Atsumu, staying up late to talk to him and eventually falling asleep on the phone, or how hard Kiyoomi’s falling for him. It should be embarrassing since they’ve only been official for two months, but he can’t stop these feelings.
“Remember,” his mother says, wiping her lips with her napkin and folding it on the table, “next weekend is Community Day. I’d like it if you’re all there by 8 am for the morning prayer before the assignments.”
Kiyoomi’s stomach drops. He completely forgot about it and he’s already planned that Saturday to be in Osaka. They have movie tickets and a dinner reservation, he’s been looking forward to it all week. “Saturday?” Kiyoomi asks. “This Saturday?”
“Yes, the one that’s been on the family calendar the last two months.” She frowns at him. “Why?”
Kiyoomi can feel all eyes fall onto him. “There’s a training camp for my team,” he lies. “For the tournament.”
“Well, you’ll just have to skip it,” Miyu says. “We’ve been planning this for weeks, you already have an assignment at the Senior Center.”
“I can’t. It’s mandatory, I could lose my starter position for the tournament.”
She scoffs. “Kiyoomi, this is the Lord’s work. Volleyball should never replace it. I’m sorry, you just need to tell them you cannot go.”
“There will be other people there, I can’t just-”
“Kiyoomi,” Kousuke, seemingly silencing everything around them. He doesn’t speak loudly, but his voice commands nonetheless. “You have been missing a number of church programs over volleyball and school lately, and it’s unacceptable. You will attend Community Day.” Kousuke’s words are final. Kiyoomi clenches his jaw and glares down at his lap as his mother announces desert to break the tension.
Kiyoomi calls Atsumu later that night when he returns to his dorm. “I don’t want to go to the senior center,” he whines to Atsumu. He feels so pathetic whining about this, like a petulant pup being told they can’t go to the park. “I want to be in Osaka with you.”
“Well I don’t want ya to go either," Atsumu says unhelpfully.
“You’re not helping. You’re supposed to say it’s going to be okay.”
“I’m selfish and ya know I don’t care about church shit.”
Kiyoomi huffs and throws himself onto his bed. “This is stupid.” He can’t fake another headache or else his parents will get suspicious, and they can’t move it to Sunday because Kiyoomi can’t miss service. They’ll just have to wait another week and it feels like torture. Kiyoomi and his omega have been so desperate to have Atsumu around, it’s a little pathetic. He used to go weeks without seeing Atsumu, now his omega whines if they go a day without talking. It doesn’t help that Atsumu has been scenting him whenever he is around, and it’s making him that much more desperate.
“I’ll reschedule everything for the weekend after next,” Atsumu offers. “Just worry about the old people.”
“Why the weekend after next? Why not next weekend?”
“Ah,” Atsumu says awkwardly. “I think my rut’s that weekend. Probably best if I’m not around ya. If yer parents hate me now, imagine what they’d think of me after I took ya for my rut.”
“Oh.” The only ruts Kiyoomi has witnessed are his sister’s when she still lived at home. Other than that, this is brand new territory for him. He knows as an omega, he should do something to help Atsumu through it - scented items, supplements, hydration . . . things he would want himself for his heat. He needs to get started on this and begin collecting -
“I can hear yer mind workin’ overtime from here, Omi,” Atsumu says with a light laugh. “Don’t worry about it. I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself during rut.”
“You don’t want my help?”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ve got some scented stuff I stole from ya last visit.” So that’s where Kiyoomi’s favorite sweatshirt went. “I’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” Kiyoomi says, unconvinced. “If you need anything-”
“I’ll be sure to give ya a call. Oh, and whatever I say, just ignore it, ‘kay? My alpha says shits without me realizin’ or meanin’ it, so just pretend like it didn’t happen.”
“Like what?”
“Dunno. But just pretend it’s Samu or some other alpha, not me.”
Kiyoomi cringes at that. “I’m not going to pretend your brother is calling me during his rut.”
Atsumu laughs. “Yeah, I don’t want ya pretendin’ that either. Forget what I said. I gotta go, Meian wants to do a night time run for some fuckin’ reason. He’s really tryin’ to get this captain’s spot.”
“Okay. Bye, Atsumu.”
“Night baby.”
Community Day is awful just as Kiyoomi suspected. The entire day is spent playing board games with elders who can’t move quickly to save their life. And if it wasn’t taking an hour to finish one simple card game, then it’s having them ask the same question over and over again. He swears he still smells like the same mush they passed around for lunch.
By the end of the day, his feet hurt, he’s exhausted, and he’s still upset that his day with Atsumu was replaced with something like this. The only thing he got out of it was free lunch and a t-shirt.
As he gets to his dorm, he’s barely awake enough to question why the lights are left on in his room. He barely has the energy to arrange his shoes neatly, just kicking them off as he walks into the dorm. As he sets down his bag of take out, he frowns at the small potted plant on the window sill by his sink.
“Welcome back,” a voice says behind him. Kiyoomi nearly jumps out of his skin, reaching for a kitchen knife and spinning before recognizing Atsumu standing behind him.
“I could have killed you!” Kiyoomi snaps at him, throwing the knife into the sink behind him. “You can’t sneak up on an omega like that!” He hates this alpha so much. “What are you doing here?”
“Well fuck me then. I thought ya would burst into tears seein’ me, not threaten me with a knife.” Atsumu grins and steps forward, caging Kiyoomi against the counter with his hands on either side of him. “I wanted to see ya.”
Now that his adrenaline is dying down and Kiyoomi’s body is relaxing as he inhales Atsumu’s scent. It smells so good . . . like better than normal. Kiyoomi must have missed him so badly and it smells that much sweeter. “Wow,” he whispers, taking a deep breath in. “Your scent-”
“Pre-rut,” Atsumu says, leaning into Kiyoomi’s neck and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Good, right? I can’t imagine what ya’d smell like pre-heat.” He nips at Kiyoomi’s earlobe, drawing a gasp from him. “Shit, just thinkin’ about it is doing it for me.”
Now that Kiyoomi is glaringly aware of Atsumu’s impending rut, he realizes just how hot he is to the touch. Atsumu’s always run warm, which is a blessing for Kiyoomi and his poor circulation, but now it’s like he’s burning. In the past, Atsumu stayed away from Kiyoomi during their cycles. They never even talked about it, though Atsumu’s scent was Kiyoomi’s favorite during his heats. “It’s not due for another few months,” Kiyoomi answers softly. He’s like prey under a hungry predator - he should be scared, but instead is like putty in Atsumu’s hands. “Did you come because of your rut?”
It looks like it’s a struggle, but Atsumu pulls back enough so they can speak without him trying to bite Kiyoomi. “Mostly. When ya said you weren’t comin’, my alpha went kinda nuts. But I did wanna see ya before my rut and steal more of yer shit.” Atsumu takes a long inhale. “God, Omi. I was obsessed with yer scent in my ruts, but it was always so fuckin’ faint. Now I’ll have the real thing.”
“You look like it’s about to trigger.” His pupils are wide, fangs just slightly sharper, a hungry look in his eyes.
Atsumu waits a second and Kiyoomi sees him swallow. “Nah. A couple more days, maybe. I’m still me.”
“What is it like?” Kiyoomi asks, brushing Atsumu’s bangs from his forehead. He looks tired, probably from his busy schedule. Ever since his game against the Rockets, they’ve been working Atsumu to the bone. Between interviews, photoshoots, and practice, Kiyoomi knows just how booked they’ve kept him.
“Probably the same thing as yer heat,” Atsumu says. “Kinda like my body ain’t my own. And the urge to fuck ya.”
Kiyoomi splutters. “You can’t just say that.”
“Ya asked.” Atsumu’s eyes Kiyoomi’s lips like he’s a dog being tempted with a bone. “It’ll be worse now that my alpha knows yer mine. Who knows what I’ll do.”
The apartment feels 1,000 degrees hotter and Atsumu is far too close. He knows Atsumu catches the shift in his scent by the twitch of his nose. It’s not that Kiyoomi doesn’t want that with Atsumu, but they’ve only been dating for a few months at this point and he can’t have sex until after they bond. If his parents hated Atsumu before, they’d hate him once they realize he’s taken their son’s virginity before courting and bonding.
But the devil works hard and Miya Atsumu works harder.
Kiyoomi swallows hard and pushes Atsumu back by his shoulder. “We can’t.” With Atsumu in pre-rut, Kiyoomi needs to keep a level head. He has morals and an obligation to God and his family. “Not until-”
“I know,” Atsumu says with a disappointed sigh. “I’m sorry, I just . . .” He puts more distance between them and breathes through his mouth. “I wasn’t tryin’ to pressure ya.”
A very dangerous part of Kiyoomi wants that, like when Atsumu asks if he can read Kiyoomi’s monthly scripture booklet but backs off too quickly. He wants Atsumu to push him and see just how far Kiyoomi eats the forbidden fruit. “I know,” Kiyoomi says weakly. Atsumu mistakes his tone for doubt and there’s a flash of guilt in his eyes.
“I already took my shower when I got here, I didn’t think ya would mind.”
Later that night after they’re both in bed, Kiyoomi curls around Atsumu’s side and tucks his nose against his scent gland. He smells really good - Kiyoomi doesn’t remember ever smelling Atsumu’s pre-rut scent this clearly before. He’ll steal one of Atsumu’s shirts to keep with him until the next time they see each other.
“I know you didn’t mean it like that,” Kiyoomi says now that he has a clearer head. He doesn’t want Atsumu to go into his rut thinking Kiyoomi distrusts him. “You’ve always been respectful of my beliefs.”
Atsumu strokes his hand over Kiyoomi’s arm. “Yeah, but I shouldn’t have said it. My alpha says shit before I even realize it’s out of my mouth.” He kisses the top of Kiyoomi’s head. “This is the first time yer really seeing my pre-rut, right? I don’t wanna scare ya off.”
“You won’t,” Kiyoomi quickly says. There’s a scar on Atsumu’s chest that he traces. “I’m not fragile, I just don’t know what to do.”
“I’m gonna take most of yer wardrobe for starters. All of the stuff I thought I had with yer scent was startin’ to fade, I needed it stronger.” Kiyoomi nods along. “And ya can call me. I probably won’t pick up, but ya can leave voicemails for me or a video of yourself. That stuff makes it easier.”
“Will Osamu check in on you?”
“Yeah, he’ll bring me food, too.”
“How long will it last?”
“Maybe three days? My alpha’s never really been this close to an omega before, so maybe longer. I’ll text ya when it’s over.” He kisses the top of Kiyoomi’s head again. “Go to sleep, ya had a long day.”
It’s not some secondary gender thing where Kiyoomi can tell when his alpha goes into rut like a sixth sense. Instead, Kiyoomi wakes up to no ‘Good Morning <3’ text from Atsumu and his own message from last night is still unanswered. He doesn’t know why, but his stomach is in knots the entire day. It’s not like Atsumu is going off to battle, and ruts are hardly dangerous if they’re regular, but his omega is antsy and it’s making his life hell.
He goes to his classes distracted, and every break he gets he sends texts and short videos or pictures every chance he gets even if he doesn’t get an answer. His coach even asks if he’s okay at practice because of how out of focus he is. Kiyoomi tries to pull himself together after that.
At the end of his day when he gets home, he tries calling Atsumu - it goes straight to voicemail. Kiyoomi leaves him a long one, telling Atsumu about his day and whatever else that comes to mind. He doesn’t try calling again, but he adds to their text messages which have been bombarded with his own.
The next day is the same and it makes Kiyoomi realize how dependent he is on his and Atsumu’s communication. Even before they dated, there was some kind of message exchange between them. It’s weird now that it’s just Kiyoomi. He and his omega are restless over it, and his scripture booklet is taking the brunt of it. The small pages don’t fit the endless scrawl of Kiyoomi’s worrying mind; whatever doesn’t fit in his booklet is transferred to a loose leaf paper from his desk until he’s got a novel.
When he finally does hear from Atsumu, it’s the middle of Kiyoomi's sleepless night. He’s tossed and turned for hours, and the second he finally starts to settle down, his phone rings and startles him back awake.
“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi says with relief. “How are you?” Atsumu doesn’t answer, and Kiyoomi can only hear his ragged breathing through the phone. “What can I do?”
“Please come over,” Atsumu grunts.
“I can’t.” He sits up, pushing his curls out of his face. “I’m in Tokyo and-”
“Please, baby.” Kiyoomi’s never heard him this desperate before. “I’ll be careful, I’ll take such good care of ya.”
“What else can I do for you?”
Atsumu sighs and the speaker crackles as Atsumu moves around in bed. “Talk to me.”
“About what?”
“Anythin’. Need to hear yer voice.”
Kiyoomi bites at his fingernails. “Okay,” he says quietly, then lies flat in bed. “I had an exam this week for calculus. It’s still awful no matter how many times you try teaching it to me, but I think I did okay on the test. Practice was long, I was too busy worrying about you and Coach asked me if I was sick.” There’s a lewd noise from the other line that silences Kiyoomi. “Are you-”
“Yes,” Atsumu breathes out. “Keep goin’.”
“About class?” Kiyoomi scoffs. “I could be saying much dirtier things than academics-”
“Then say it,” Atsumu grunts. There’s a wet noise in the background that seemingly gets louder as he’s put on speaker phone. “I don’t care what it’s about.”
Kiyoomi’s face gets hot and he has to kick off his blankets. He’s never done anything like this before, he doesn’t know what gets people off. “Uh,” he starts, “maybe imagine my ass?”
Atsumu moans. “Already am.”
“Right. Well it’s up in the air and everything is out to see.” He’s awful at this. Atsumu’s probably getting soft with every stupid thing he says. “Because you can eat it. My . . . front part and all.”
“Fuck,” Atsumu groans into the phone. “Omi,” he whines, “do ya shave?”
“Shave what? Oh. . . No, I don’t.”
Atsumu lets out the loudest moan he’s ever heard before. Kiyoomi’s going to think about it for weeks. “That’s so fuckin’ hot, baby.”
“Is it?” Kiyoomi’s heard from other omegas that they keep it completely bare because most alphas like that. Since he wasn’t planning on having sex until much later, he’s never really cared about it. “Okay well, it’s curly like my hair.” Kiyoomi doesn’t even know why he’s saying this. It’s the worst dirty talk in history, but judging by the breathiness of Atsumu and the increased speed of the squelching, it seems to be working. “And my slick sticks to it, especially during my heat. You’ll see that when you eat me out for it.” Kiyoomi realizes what he’s said and flushes even harder. This is so fucking stupid.
But Atsumu cries out Kiyoomi’s name and breathes heavily into the speaker like he’s just come. The sounds slow down, too and soon it’s quiet on the other line.
“Did you come to me describing my pubic hair?”
“Shut up,” Atsumu says weakly. “Yer awful at dirty talk.”
“You came anyway.”
“I’m in rut. I was close when ya were talkin’ about volleyball.”
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes but starts to smile. He missed talking to Atsumu so badly, it’s such a relief to hear his voice. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now that I’m talking to ya.” Atsumu yawns obnoxiously. “Come over.”
Kiyoomi picks at a loose thread. “It’s two am. There are no trains running.”
“So if there were trains running, ya’d come?”
“Maybe.”
He can hear the grin in Atsumu’s voice as he says, “what happened to the good little pastor’s son?”
“I never said I’d sleep with you.”
Atsumu hums. “Only that ya’d come over while I’m in rut.” Atsumu yawns again. “Okay, I’ll stop buggin’ ya and get some sleep before the next wave starts.”
“Good night, Atsumu. Listen to my voicemails so I don’t have to repeat myself when you’re normal again.”
“Night, baby.”
Unfortunately, the thoughts Kiyoomi has of Atsumu has only gotten worse since, but he has to hold strong and not give into temptation no matter how difficult it gets. Kiyoomi spends more time with his father and studies the bible with him. His father might find it odd that Kiyoomi is suddenly more interested in the teachings of God if he weren’t so happy that one of his adult children is reading it with him. It’s been a while since they did this - when Kiyoomi and his siblings were younger, they would all gather around the living room and listen to the daily reading. His father would ask them what they thought it meant and encourage them to meditate on the scripture. It’s not so different now, though Kiyoomi has better answers than the ones he had at seven years old.
Though, Kiyoomi didn’t have Atsumu blowing up his phone while his father read through the verses.
“Do you need to get that?” he asks, peering over the top of his glasses at Kiyoomi.
Kiyoomi silences his phone and tucks it into his pocket. “No, sorry. Please continue.” He does his best to follow along, but the vibrations in his pocket keep distracting him.
“Kiyoomi, honestly-”
“I’m sorry, let me just-” Kiyoomi grabs his phone and turns it on do not disturb. “So, the gospel.”
“Who could be texting you that much?”
Kiyoomi tries not to look guilty when he says, “Atsumu.”
Kousuke lets out a disappointed sigh. “You and that alpha.” He shakes his head. “He’s nothing but trouble, and I pray to our Lord that he does not rub off on you.”
Kiyoomi wants him to rub something on him-
FOCUS.
“We’ve been friends for years and he hasn’t damned me yet.” Kiyoomi feels his phone start buzzing again as Atsumu bullies through Kiyoomi’s do not disturb. “He’s my best friend.”
“He’s a hedonist is what he is. I’ve seen those photos of him with a new omega on his arm every week.” His father shakes his head, scratching at his chest. “Have him come to one of my sermons, I’ll set him straight.”
“So, the gospel,” Kiyoomi tries again. “In Mark-”
“You really need to think about who you want in your life, Kiyoomi, and find a good alpha who serves the Lord. The people you hang out with . . .” He waves his hand around with a sour look on his face. “Don’t follow the footsteps of your sister.”
“Of course, dad.” Kiyoomi feels his phone buzz again. “Let me just . . .” He grabs his phone and quickly types out “STOP OR I’LL BREAK UP WITH YOU”. He doesn’t mean to read any of the messages because he knows most of them will be stupid spam or emojis, but he does catch a ‘Come to Osaka for my game? Please?’.
Kiyoomi should tell him no. He can’t miss another Sunday sermon for Atsumu again - the guilt ate him alive last time. When Atsumu plays against the Adlers in Tokyo, Kiyoomi will promise to go then since they can stay at his place.
But . . . Kiyoomi had so much fun with Atsumu in Osaka. He’s been itching to see the Jackals play again before the season ends, and who knows when he’ll see Atsumu after that once both their schedules pick up.
Kiyoomi sits on it, convincing himself that he doesn’t want to go to Osaka for the rest of their bible session. Only after they wrap up and Kiyoomi’s father puts away the bible does he risk it. “Dad,” he starts, packing up his writing utensils and tucking them into his backpack, “this weekend I have a training camp with my team before the tournament starts.”
His father turns to him, sharp eyes piercing into Kiyoomi and boring down onto him like the watchful eyes of God. “Out of town?” Kiyoomi nods. With a sigh, his father moves his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. “You’re asking if you can skip Sunday service?”
“I wouldn’t unless this was important.”
“It’s just volleyball, Kiyoomi.”
“It’s my passion.” If his father tells him no and demands that Kiyoomi attend service, then Kiyoomi will listen to him. There will be no arguing with his father, and Kiyoomi will simply tell Atsumu that he can’t come. “You know that I want to go into the leagues after I graduate.”
Kousuke turns back around, peering at his collection of literature. The home library has always been full of scholarly text analyzing the bible in every translation. “You’ve missed a lot because of this sport, and it’s making you sick.”
“I’m keeping up with it.”
It’s quiet for a few moments and Kiyoomi is sure that his father has come to the decision to deny Kiyoomi’s request. But, with a sigh, his father pulls a book from the shelf and says, “make sure you read your morning scripture while you’re at camp. If there’s a chapel nearby, I suggest you spend some time praying in it to atone.”
“Of course,” Kiyoomi says, his heart racing in his chest. “Thank you, dad.” His father waves him off.
It’s less awkward on the sidelines with the other mates now that Kiyoomi really is one of them. The lovesick look he wore last time he was sitting in their reserved seating no longer needs to be hidden. When one of the mates leans over and whispers yours is really good, Kiyoomi smiles and agrees with them. Yes, Atsumu is the best setter the Jackals have had in years. Once the switch was made from their old setter to Atsumu, the coach never looked back.
Kiyoomi still watches match replays when he can to keep up with the teams, but it doesn’t beat being there and seeing it in real time. It makes him itch to get onto the court especially when he sees that hungry look in Atsumu’s eye. Before, Kiyoomi wanted to keep his options open in regards to which team he’d sign for. He’s already gotten a few offer letters from Division 2 and 3 teams, but he knows he wants to jump right into Division 1. He told himself to weigh his options, consider the benefits, but ultimately he knows his place is here on the Jackals with Atsumu. No other setter will challenge him like Atsumu will.
The Jackals take the win after the fourth set and the stadium explodes with cheers. Atsumu’s riding a high, running around the court with his arms spread wide in victory because his set is what won them the game. Kiyoomi feels invigorated and so enamored with his boyfriend, that he doesn’t even complain when Atsumu stops dead in his tracks and points right at Kiyoomi.
Later, once they’re walking to the bar for the celebratory drinks the team goes out for. Kiyoomi isn’t as petrified of going as before, but he mostly can’t wait until they leave so he can have Atsumu all to himself again. They hold hands this time and Atsumu swings them and recaps the entire game as if Kiyoomi wasn’t sitting in courtside seating. Kiyoomi lets him because he lets Atsumu get away with too much, and he just nods along to the retelling of a game from thirty minutes ago.
When they reach the bar, Atsumu hesitates walking in. He stops right at the entrance, but doesn’t pull the door open for them. Someone walks up behind and slips past them to get inside the door, but Atsumu still doesn’t follow.
“Something wrong?” Kiyoomi asks, tucking his other hand into his pocket.
Atsumu purses his lips and turns towards Kiyoomi. “Gotta be honest, Omi. I don’t really feel like hangin’ out with the team tonight, I just want to be with ya.” He mistakes Kiyoomi’s blank look for disappointment and quickly adds, “unless ya wanted to-”
“Not at all,” Kiyoomi says with a smile. “I didn’t want to steal you from them, but I really didn’t want to share you with anyone.”
Atsumu grins and leans in to kiss Kiyoomi quickly on the lips. “This is what I wanted to do the first time we were here. I thought they were gonna scare ya off.”
Kiyoomi scoffs. “We’ve been friends for a while and you haven’t scared me off yet.” Atsumu pulls Kiyoomi past the restaurant towards his apartment instead. Kiyoomi feels giddy doing it, that their star player tonight wants nothing more than to be with Kiyoomi instead of them.
The movie that Atsumu picks out doesn’t get watched at all. They barely made it past the opening credits before Atsumu’s wandering hands distracted Kiyoomi and pulled him onto his lap. Kiyoomi couldn’t even pretend to know what the plot is, too busy straddling Atsumu and being kissed senseless. This is how most of their make out sessions go with heavy kissing and sometimes Atsumu will get handsy enough to squeeze Kiyoomi’s ass. But they never have gone farther than that even though Kiyoomi can literally feel Atsumu’s arousal pressing into his core while he sits on him.
He knows Atsumu wants to, his alpha growling for it during his rut, and it’s not like Atsumu was a virgin past 16. But Kiyoomi knows what his father says, and that his body is a place to be worshipped. He’s not supposed to give himself to any alpha who asks for a fleeting feeling. Harlots and heretics and bad people give in and sleep with anyone, and Kiyoomi is none of those. He’s a good omega who saves himself for the right alpha after bonding.
But there’s a part of Kiyoomi that knows he won’t ever find a different alpha. Atsumu is who his soul desires, and what does it matter if they sleep together before bonding when they’ll be bonded in a few short months?
Atsumu pulls away from the kiss and slides Kiyoomi off of his lap, sitting up. “Gimme a minute for it to go down,” he tells Kiyoomi, pressing his knuckles into his eyes. “Sorry.”
Not that Kiyoomi is any better with his damp panties. “It’s okay,” he says quietly, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. God gives their strongest soldiers the hardest battles. He wills away his arousal and his excuses, even going so far as reciting a bible verse in his head.
“Ya okay?” Atsumu asks him after some time when Kiyoomi’s been quiet too long. “Did I make ya uncomfortable?”
Kiyoomi looks over to Atsumu. “No, you didn’t.”
“I can’t really help my boner when ya grind against me because yer tryin’ to get more comfortable,” he says with a short, awkward laugh after. But Kiyoomi doesn’t respond, too busy having a war with himself in his head. To wait another few months until they’re bonded, or give into the temptation now because he knows Atsumu is his soulmate. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yers?”
Kiyoomi looks back up at the ceiling, wringing his fingers together. “You’d court me, right?”
“‘course I would.”
“And you want to mark me.”
Atsumu turns on his side to face Kiyoomi. “I’d do it now if I didn’t think it’d piss off yer parents.” He grabs Kiyoomi’s hand, stopping him from picking at his fingernails. “Why’re ya asking?”
Kiyoomi tears his eyes away from the ceiling to look at Atsumu. “What if we had sex now?”
“No.”
Kiyoomi frowns. “Why?”
“‘cause ya wanna wait until after we bond, and I’m not gonna let ya give that up.” He kisses Kiyoomi’s knuckle. “I love ya too much to do that.”
Kiyoomi smirks. “You love me?”
“Kinda obvious, don’t ya think? How many other omegas do you think I wash my sheets for?”
“Gross.”
Atsumu kisses his hand again. “Baby, I don’t mind waitin’.”
“But if you’re going to be the alpha I mate with, what does it matter if we do it now or in six months?”
Atsumu sighs and lies down beside Kiyoomi, resting his hand over Kiyoomi’s stomach. “Why are ya askin’ this?”
Kiyoomi shrugs. “I want you to feel good.”
“Yer not goin’ to feel guilty, or resent me over it?”
“No.” He wraps his hand over Atsumu’s arm. “You don’t want to sleep with me?”
“Dumb question.”
“Well?”
Atsumu leans in and kisses Kiyoomi’s cheek. “Ya know I do, but I’m fine waitin’. I promise.”
“God won’t know the difference between now or six months.”
“Oh, we’re involving God now?”
“Atsumu.”
“Honey,” Atsumu says with another sigh, lying on his back. “I don’t want ya to regret this.”
“I won’t.” Kiyoomi doesn’t know why he’s even trying to convince Atsumu about this. It’s like the roles are reversed and Kiyoomi is trying to get Atsumu to go to hell. He sits up a little, leaning over Atsumu. “Not with you. You’re the only one I ever want to touch me.”
Atsumu’s eyes flicker as he considers Kiyoomi. Who would have thought that it takes this much convincing for Miya Atsumu to sleep with an omega. “My only rule then,” Atsumu says, leaning up to meet Kiyoomi, “if ya change yer mind, ya tell me immediately.”
Kiyoomi nods quickly. A rush of excitement goes through his body, like Eve taking the first bite of the apple. “I swear.”
“Christ,” Atsumu breathes out, dropping his head onto Kiyoomi’s shoulder. “Yer gonna be the death of me. I’m gonna be sent straight to hell for this.”
“You won’t be sent straight to hell,” Kiyoomi corrects. “It’s only after you die, and this won’t kill you.”
There’s a light tickle on Kiyoomi’s sensitive neck as Atsumu laughs. “Yet to be decided.” Then, slowly, Atsumu starts kissing Kiyoomi’s skin, working his way up until he nibbles at his ear. “Okay?” he whispers.
“We’ve done more than this before,” Kiyoomi reminds, tilting his head to the side to give Atsumu more room. He finds Atsumu’s hand, pulling it to his side. “You won’t break me.”
“And I’m not gonna rush ya, either.” He kisses Kiyoomi’s cheek and pulls back slightly. “Bad sex is awful, and it’d be so fuckin’ embarrassin’ if yer first time was like that with me. I’ve fucked a lot of omegas, baby. No complaints yet.”
Kiyoomi glares at him and pushes him away. “My rule is that you stop talking about other omegas.”
Atsumu grins, sharp canines catching Kiyoomi’s eye. “Yer so cute when ya get jealous.”
“Miya,” he warns. “Don’t piss me off.”
Atsumu tackles him to the bed after that, smothering his face with kisses until Kiyoomi can’t find it in him to be mad anymore. The kisses become less innocent the more Atsumu moves on top of Kiyoomi, until their lips connect and they’re making out like they were earlier. Atsumu’s an eager kisser, like there’s something to win from it. Kiyoomi used to be nervous when they first started dating since he had no experience, but like on the court, Atsumu adapts and makes it easy to follow him.
His arousal is back, pressing into Kiyoomi’s thigh as Atsumu hovers over him. He doesn’t seem embarrassed by it this time, even grinding down onto Kiyoomi’s leg every once in a while like his body can’t help it. Each time Kiyoomi feels it more, reminding him just how big his boyfriend is. He wants to feel it closer to him, to the part of him that aches. Kiyoomi opens his legs for Atsumu, letting him slot between and press into Kiyoomi’s mound. The sensation is instant, pulling a gasp from Kiyoomi as Atsumu kisses down his jaw to leave marks on his neck.
Kiyoomi’s only given into temptation during his heat once before when he felt like he was going to die without it. Otherwise, he spent his heats drugged up on sleeping pills and reminding himself that suffering is showing love to God. But that time made him wonder that if sex and masturbation were so sinful, why did it feel so good?
Slowly, Atsumu’s hand creeps up Kiyoomi’s sweater, calloused fingers caressing his ticklish sides until the fabric is hiked up to Kiyoomi’s neck. Atsumu keeps kissing down until he reaches Kiyoomi’s chest and begins pressing wet, open mouthed kisses.
He takes care of Kiyoomi like always - kissing him, pleasuring him, making him comfortable, checking in with him every step of the way. It cements Kiyoomi’s decision because this is the kind of alpha he wants to be with for the rest of his life. Atsumu’s never gotten angry at Kiyoomi for asking too many questions or doing extra steps to feel comfortable, and his patience feels endless. Whenever Kiyoomi wants to slow down, Atsumu says nothing and changes his pace until Kiyoomi is comfortable again.
Even with all of the foreplay and prep Atsumu gives Kiyoomi, it still hurts a little with his size. Atsumu offers to stop when Kiyoomi’s face pinches, but goes even slower after Kiyoomi refuses to let him pull out. He doesn’t know how this first time compares to anyone else - whether it’s awful or the best anyone’s ever had, but it’s special to Kiyoomi either way. Atsumu makes love to him, telling Kiyoomi over and over just how much he adores him, and leaves marks on his body that Kiyoomi never wants to fade.
After, when Kiyoomi slowly comes down from his high and they’re no longer attached by Atsumu’s knot, he and his omega have never felt more content. There’s no guilt riddling his mind or soul, just the knowledge that in every lifetime, he would choose Atsumu.
“Are ya purring?” Atsumu asks with a short laugh, kissing Kiyoomi’s curls.
Kiyoomi doesn’t know anymore. He’s felt things tonight that he’s sure were creations of God. He doesn’t answer Atsumu, instead tucking himself tighter to his side and closing his eyes.
“Ya don’t regret it, right?”
“No,” Kiyoomi says. “Never with you.”
Kiyoomi wakes up before Atsumu. He’s pleasantly sore in a way that leaves his omega satisfied as he gets out of bed and winces at the ache all over his body. Atsumu was gentle with him, but still let his alpha get the better of him when it came to marking Kiyoomi or holding him so tightly that there’s faint bruises on his hips.
He searches for his phone that got lost in the mess of clothes last night while he goes to the bathroom. While he sits to pee, he opens it up and frowns at the mass of notifications he has. His phone is usually void of notifications aside from emails from professors or classmates, so to see dozens of missed calls and voicemails from his family makes his heart drop to his stomach. Kiyoomi listens to the first one from his sister.
“Kiyoomi, I don’t know where you’re at, but call me back as soon as you can. Dad, he . . . I don’t know, the doctors said he had a chance, but . . .” A shaky breath. “I don’t know, Kiyoomi. It sounds bad. We’re at the hospital now, and mom’s a wreck, and . . . okay, just get back to Tokyo to see him.”
Kiyoomi feels like the blood has drained from his body. His sister sounds scared, something she has never been in her life. The voicemail is from last night when . . .
“Shit,” Kiyoomi mutters to himself, looking through his text messages for the latest one. It’s from his brother early this morning.
Dad pulled through, but he’s unresponsive. Where are you?
All of the voicemails and messages are more of the same - questions about his
whereabouts, his father’s heart attack, and the odds not looking good. He tries typing to his sister, but his fingers are so shaky that he can’t even write a full sentence.
“-mi?” He hears Atsumu’s voice, but it sounds a thousand miles away. “Kiyoomi?” Then, Atsumu is in front of him, kneeling before him on the toilet and putting both hands on Kiyoomi’s cheeks. “Kiyoomi, breathe, c’mon, in and out-” It’s only then that Kiyoomi realizes he’s been hyperventilating. The hammering heart and choking rasp earlier came from him. “Baby, with me. In - good, good - now out. Again, let’s do it again.”
Slowly, Atsumu brings him back. His breathing slows, his heart isn’t threatening to beat out of his chest, but the messages on his phone are still real. “I have to go back to Tokyo,” Kiyoomi chokes out, gripping so tightly to Atsumu because it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. “My dad-” He can feel himself starting to get worked up again, so he gives the phone to Atsumu. “I have to go back.”
Atsumu reads through the texts, keeping one hand on Kiyoomi and rubbing soothing circles. “We’ll go back to Tokyo.” He keeps reading through the texts, keeping a much calmer appearance and scent that Kiyoomi surely has. “Let me take care of it, okay? Finish gettin’ ready and I’ll do the rest.”
Atsumu comes with him to Tokyo. Kiyoomi didn’t fully realize he was accompanying him until they were on the platform together and the muddled pieces finally connected, though Kiyoomi didn’t argue with him. He’s a mess right now, and the high speed train isn’t going fast enough for Kiyoomi’s liking. Atsumu keeps a hand on Kiyoomi’s leg to keep it from bouncing, his thumb massaging the joint and patting it gently every few minutes when Kiyoomi works himself up again.
He rereads all of his family's texts to gather what happened - a heart attack last night, critical condition, died three times and resuscitated each time. Each time he looks at the words, he starts to panic again until finally, Atsumu takes his phone and puts it in his own pocket. “Baby,” he starts, taking Kiyoomi’s hand where he’s been chewing on his fingernails. “There’s no use worrying yourself like that.”
“I should have been there.”
“What could ya have done?”
Kiyoomi gestures broadly. “I should have been there, and instead I was sleeping with . . .” A morbid connection forms in his head, silencing him. Almost as if Atsumu can read his thoughts, he brings Kiyoomi’s hands to his lips to press kisses to his knuckles.
“Don’t go there, Kiyoomi.”
“This is my punishment,” Kiyoomi says quietly.”
“Kiyoomi-”
“I didn’t wait, and now-”
“Hey,” Atsumu gently snaps, forcing Kiyoomi to look into his eyes. “What we did had nothin’ to do with yer dad’s health.” Logically, Kiyoomi knows this. Spiritually . . . not so much. He knew he should have waited until bonding, he should have listened to his father because pre-bonding sex is a sin and sinners get punished. His father suffered because Kiyoomi was impatient and rebelled.
“But, what if-”
Atsumu quickly pulls Kiyoomi into him, smoothing down his curls and kissing his forehead. “Baby, this ain’t yer fault.” He pumps out more of his scent for Kiyoomi to try and calm him. “You didn’t do anythin’ to hurt yer dad.”
Kiyoomi grips the fabric of Atsumu’s hoodie tightly, squeezing his eyes shut while he tries to let Atsumu’s words ring true. Yet, years of teachings and sermons are hard to break through and Kiyoomi still feels like this is all his fault.
His brother meets them when they make it to the hospital. He looks awful, like he hasn’t slept at all since his father was rushed to the hospital. He pulls Kiyoomi into a hug and scents him like he used to when they were younger to calm Kiyoomi down. “You made it.”
“Of course I did,” Kiyoomi says, scenting his brother back. “Where is dad?”
Keishi pulls away and starts grooming Kiyoomi’s clothes - a nervous tick of his. “He’s in the critical care unit. He survived the surgery, but he hasn’t woken up yet. They don’t know when he will.” It’s only after does he seem to realize Atsumu is there, too. “Atsumu-kun, thank you for bringing Kiyoomi. You’re a good friend to him.”
“He’s good to me, too. I’m sorry yer family is goin’ through this.”
Keishi thanks him and nods his head back towards the hallway behind him. “Mom hasn’t left dad’s side since they brought him to this room. Her phone’s been blowing up with people from church, asking what they can do after the announcement of his condition was made.” They pass by a waiting room on the way where Keishi stops. “Atsumu-kun, they’re only allowing family in for now. Please wait here, and we’ll come find you after.”
Kiyoomi is reluctant to leave Atsumu behind considering he’s been his rock since everything fell apart this morning. He hesitates and his hand twitches to reach out for Atsumu. “I’ll be here when yer done, Omi,” Atsumu says with a reassuring smile. “Tell yer dad I said ‘hi’.”
It feels painful walking through the critical care doors without Atsumu. It’s even worse when Keishi says, “you reek of him. Hopefully mom is too upset to realize what you’ve been doing.” The guilt twists in his gut, a cruel reminder of what Kiyoomi has done to disgrace their family.
“I didn’t-”
“I’m not an idiot, Kiyoomi. Dad and mom might believe your stories when you bail on church functions, but I don’t. That alpha is a bad influence.”
“Don’t talk about him like that. He’s my boy . . . best friend.” He clenches his fists inside his hoodie pockets.
Keishi doesn’t argue. Instead, stopping before a room and turning to Kiyoomi. He rubs his wrist over Kiyoomi, overly scenting him to mask Atsumu’s scent. “We don’t need to give mom a heart attack, either.”
Inside the room, a machine beeps in time with his father’s heart beat as he lies still in the bed. It sends a chill down Kiyoomi’s spine, and he’s almost afraid to go farther into the room.
“Kiyoomi!” his mother cries out, setting aside her bible and rushing to him. “You’re here!”
“I’m sorry,” he says without meaning, letting his mother embrace him tightly. “My training camp-”
She shushes him. “You’re here now.” She leads him and Keishi to the room chairs and offers him a seat which he declines. “The doctors are hopeful he’ll wake soon, but his heart suffered a lot of damage.” She smiles with wet eyes at her mate, holding his hand in her own and squeezing it. His father looks lifeless with pale skin and sunken eyes - only the beeping of the monitor shows life. “He’s strong and God is watching over him.”
Kiyoomi looks away from his father and clears his throat. “How are you, mom?” he asks, voice barely strong enough to get the words out. “Have you eaten yet?”
Miyu has a harder time looking away from her mate. She wipes her tears with a tissue and sits down. “Keishi’s been taking good care of me.” She pats her other son’s hand. “And the nurses are so kind, they make sure I have whatever I need.” She turns back to Kiyoomi. “I’m sorry you had to miss your training camp.”
“Oh . . . thanks. There will be others.” He makes the mistake of glancing at his brother who rolls his eyes. “It was stupid, I shouldn’t have gone anyway.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Keishi unhelpfully adds.
“Please don’t start,” their mother scolds them. She sighs and leans back in her chair. “You must be exhausted, Kiyoomi. Go back home and freshen up, I’ll call you when he wakes up.”
Kiyoomi doesn’t want to leave his mother’s side, but he can’t stand beside his father’s bed much longer before he’ll feel sick. He nods hesitantly and says, “if you need anything from me, please call.”
“Will Atsumu-kun be staying at the house?”
“Atsumu-kun is here?”
Kiyoomi throws a sharp look towards his brother. “He came with me this morning,” Kiyoomi clarifies for his mother. He hates lying to her, and it feels like that’s all he’s done lately. “We’ll stay at my dorm.”
Miyu nods. “All right. Give him my thanks.”
“He’s gonna be okay, Omi,” Atsumu whispers to Kiyoomi later that night when they’re in bed. The day went by in a haze with Atsumu leading and helping Kiyoomi with everything he possibly could - eating, taking a shower, washing his hair. He’s taken care of Kiyoomi, and even now he’s rubbing soothing circles into his back. “Yer dad is stubborn like you.”
Whatever Keishi did to cover up Atsumu’s scent has long been lost as Atsumu smothers him with it again. Kiyoomi’s sure it will be obvious that their relationship is more than just best friends once everything has settled, but won’t care or bother hiding it anymore. Atsumu isn’t the alpha his family says he is, and this crisis has been more than enough to prove it.
“He’ll wake up soon,” Kiyoomi tells Atsumu. “When he does, I’ll introduce you to him as my boyfriend.”
Atsumu laughs softly, pulling Kiyoomi even closer into his side. They’re a tangle of limbs that Kiyoomi can’t sort out. “Maybe we should give him a couple of days so he doesn’t have another heart attack.”
Four weeks go by and Kiyoomi’s father still doesn’t wake up. Doctors come in and out of his room, they run endless tests, yet nothing changes with his condition. Until another week and the doctor steps into the room and closes the door behind her. Kiyoomi’s mother sobs into his shoulder as the doctor’s words break their family like a sledgehammer.
No brain activity.
Too much damage.
We’re sorry.
All of Kiyoomi’s professors told him not to even think about school, and they’d help him catch up on school work later. There’s more food in the house than they know what to do with from church members, and enough flowers to start a garden. Kiyoomi doesn’t want to stay at home so he can avoid the overwhelming floral smell and incense, but he knows he needs to be by his mother’s side. The night before the funeral, Kiyoomi finds her on the back porch where she and Kousuke would have evening tea. Tonight, she drinks alone.
“Hey,” he says softly, taking a seat across from her. “Keishi went home to get the pups ready for tomorrow. And Keiko had to go home if she wanted to keep her sanity.”
Miyu nods, taking a sip of her tea. She still sets out another cup and the tea pot is too full for one person, so Kiyoomi pours himself a cup. “You can go back to the dorms if you need to,” she tells him.
“No, it’s fine. My professors are all very understanding.” He holds it in his hands to warm them. The guilt of what he’s done has been eating him alive no matter how much convincing Atsumu tries to do. He stares down into his drink. The only person who could tell him it isn’t his fault and make him believe it is dead. “Mom,” Kiyoomi starts, swallowing thickly. “I have to tell you something.”
Miyu sets down her cup and leans back in her chair. “What is it?”
“Atsumu and I . . . are dating.” It’s too quiet, and he’s almost too afraid to look up and see her face. But when he finally works up the courage, she doesn’t look surprised. “We’ve been together since I skipped church-”
“Only since then?”
Kiyoomi frowns. “Yes.”
She hums, finishing off her tea and pouring another cup. “I thought it would be longer, you two were attached at the hip throughout high school.”
“No, we never . . .” He looks back down at his tea. “The weekend dad had his heart attack, I went to see him.” There’s an ache in his throat as tears threaten to fall. “And we . . . slept together. And we did it before we were bonded, and because I sinned, dad is dead and-” It’s all falling out before he can stop himself, spilling from his lips while tears fall into his tea.
“Your father had heart problems long before you slept with that alpha.” She sighs, rubbing her forehead. “I’m disappointed in you, and you need to ask God for forgiveness, but you did not kill him.” With a short laugh, she adds, “your sister probably did with all of the things she’s done. He couldn’t keep up with her.”
“But-”
“It’s about devoting yourself to someone for the rest of your life. I can’t imagine you want to be with another alpha considering you rejected all the ones I introduced you to from church.” She drinks more of her tea. “You made a mistake, you will ask for forgiveness, and you will take him as your mate.”
“That’s it?”
She shrugs. “You cannot undo it. We’re all sinners asking God for forgiveness.”
Atsumu comes to the service for Kiyoomi’s father. It feels like forever since they last saw each other with everything going on. He stays by Kiyoomi’s side the entire time, holding his hand and offering his shoulder. When one person starts speaking to Kiyoomi too long, he finds a way to get them away from Kiyoomi so he can have some respite before the next teary eyed church member finds him.
This time, they’re in the pantry in the community room. Too many people were finding them outside or in a secluded hallway. Atsumu blocked the door with a heavy box of napkins and snuck in a chair for Kiyoomi to sit.
“They just keep coming,” Kiyoomi says dully, dropping his head into his hands. He’s been standing all day and has spoken to more people in one hour than he has in five years. It doesn’t help that he’s . . .
“I think we’re safe for now. Until a caterer needs more plates, at least.” Atsumu takes a seat on the cardboard box blocking the door. It’s a small enough closet that he can still reach over and stroke Kiyoomi’s knee.
“I think,” Kiyoomi starts. He found out the day they took his father off life support, two pink lines on a test he took because of his paranoia. Life hasn’t felt real to him, and some days he forgets he’s pregnant because he can’t possibly have one more thought in his head. “I’m pregnant.”
Atsumu doesn’t react at first and Kiyoomi assumes it’s from shock, but there’s no surprise on Atsumu’s face. “I know.”
Kiyoomi scoffs. “How? I only found out a few days ago, how could you-”
“Yer scent.” Atsumu pats his knee. “Baby, I’d know it anywhere. The second I smelled it when I got in last night, I knew. I just didn’t wanna say anythin’ considerin’ the circumstances.”
Kiyoomi drops his head into his hands. “Great.”
“Do ya think ya know what ya want to do?”
“Having sex with you killed my father, I don’t want to imagine what having an abortion will do to my mother.”
Atsumu tries to stifle a laugh, but it doesn’t work. It comes out choked at first, then a little louder until Kiyoomi is joining in because his life is so fucked up right now, how can he not? They’re blockaded in a church pantry to hide from mourning church members over the death of his father, and Kiyoomi is announcing he’s pregnant in the most unofficial way.
The laughter at least lightens some of the pain in Kiyoomi’s body, a light starting to appear in the darkness thanks to Atsumu. “You want to raise a pup with me?” he asks Atsumu after they’ve caught their breath.
Atsumu shrugs. “We were gonna in a few years anyway, why not now?”
“We’re not even bonded yet.”
“We can be.”
“You haven’t even courted me.”
“I got nine months.”
Kiyoomi looks into Atsumu’s eyes and it grounds him, reminding him that he has someone with him to make sure it’s going to be okay.