#arkhamscribes

“Baby it’s my desk, I want to keep it how I like it. This is how I like it.” (Y/N) rubbed his hands down his face, trying to keep himself calm. He knows that they’re both tired, that they don’t want to fight. Kiyoomi was late which means they still needed to come up with something to do for dinner before they both crashed.

“The mess stresses me out, I don’t know how-”

“If it stresses you out, just don’t look at it!” (Y/N) knows it’s an unfair thing to say, it’s Kiyoomi’s home too, it shouldn’t stress him out.

“That’s not how it works! Even if I could just not look at it, I still know it’s a mess!”

“I know, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just tired and hungry, let’s figure out what to have for dinner and-”

“And I’m not? I had to stay longer at practice today and I thought that I’d at least come home to see that the one thing I asked you to do would be done!” Kiyoomi still stood above him, arms crossed over his chest, glaring now.

“One thing? Kiyoomi, you asked me to clean the whole apartment! That's more than one thing! I scrubbed the kitchen and the bathroom, I cleaned our room, I swept and vacuumed because I know that’s what you prefer. I get that you’re busy but I can’t do everything!”

“So asking you to help out when you aren’t doing anything means I’m making you do everything?” Kiyoomi sneered back.

“That’s not what I meant!” (Y/N) stood up finally, face to face with his boyfriend.

“It’s what you said.”

“If you aren’t going to listen to me, then I’m not going to have this conversation.”

“So you’re going to run away?” Kiyoomi took a step forward.

“I’m saying that I won’t let you purposefully misinterpret my words, Kiyoomi.” (Y/N) stood his ground.

“I am no-” (Y/N) rolled his eyes and pushed past Kiyoomi before he could finish his sentence. “Where are you going?” He followed after (Y/N) as he made his way to the door.

“I told you I didn’t want to fight, Kiyoomi. I need to cool down before either of us say something we’ll both regret.” (Y/N) wouldn’t look at him as he grabbed his keys, phone, wallet, and anything else he’d need. “I’m going for a walk.”

Before Kiyoomi could say a word the door had shut behind (Y/N) leaving him standing alone in the entryway. He suddenly felt gross, from practice he told himself, he just needed to shower. (Y/N) probably wouldn’t be home for a while, so he needed to figure out what he was eating for dinner too.

The minute he entered the bathroom he felt even worse, it was spotless. Everything was in it’s spot and he noticed (Y/N) had even lit a candle for him, which hurt Kiyoomi more knowing that (Y/N) didn’t like the smell of candles.

After his shower he ate some leftovers he found in the fridge in silence, sitting alone in the quiet apartment. Every few minutes he would look between the front door, the clock on the microwave, and his phone that sat on the table next to his plate. Waiting for any sign that (Y/N) was coming home.

(Y/N) however, got out of the apartment complex and just started walking. It was almost dark out, the city slowly coming to life. He walked for 20 minutes before remembering that he hadn’t had dinner yet. He veered off his path down the sidewalk into a restaurant. He put his mask on as he entered out of the habit of soothing Kiyoomi’s nerves, before someone called his name.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Where’s your other half? Or are you picking up for both of you tonight?” (Y/N) hadn’t even noticed that his feet had led him to Onigiri Miya, and the one and only Osamu Miya behind the register.

“Oh, um, just me today.” (Y/N) took a seat at the bar near Osamu. “But yeah the usual, thanks.” (Y/N) threw him a small smile, fishing out his wallet and handing over a handful of bills. Osamu accepted them with a skeptical look but went to make (Y/N)’s meal without question.

He ate in silence while Osamu cleaned up, getting ready to close and go home. The food was as good as always, but it wasn’t the same without Kiyoomi sitting beside him.

“Did you two get into a fight or something?” Osamu finally called out, leaning against an upside down chair he had just put on a table.

“Yeah, something like that. Just a dumb fight so I just wanted to go for a walk.” (Y/N) looked over at him, pushing the empty plate in front of him away.

“Are you going home tonight?” Osamu made his way over, picking up the empty plate and moving to the sink.

“Wasn’t that serious of a fight. At least I don’t think it was.” The last part was mumbled, and sounded like (Y/N) was trying to convince himself more than Osamu.

“Well you have my number if you need a place to stay.”

“Yeah ‘course, thanks for the food, delicious as always.” (Y/N) stood from his seat, making his way to the door. “Have a good night, Osamu.”

“Of course, get home safe.”

“Yeah.”

The apartment was quiet and dark when he got home, not that he expected Kiyoomi to be up and about. (Y/N) just went into their room, looking over at Kiyoomi who was curled up in bed, before grabbing his pajamas and going to take a shower.

Kiyoomi was a light sleeper in general, so the second the door clicked open he was awoken from his already fitful sleep. He was going to get up and meet (Y/N) at the door but quickly scratched that idea, worried that he might still be upset. He stayed in bed, listening to (Y/N) move around the room, and eventually the shower starting. He waited for (Y/N) to come into the room after the shower stopped, but all he got was the hall closet opening and footsteps going past the half closed door, before the apartment went quiet.

Kiyoomi sat up in bed, finally realizing what had happened. He had driven his boyfriend out of the house and then onto the couch. He slowly got up, quietly walking out into the living room, stomach twisting at the sight of (Y/N) curled up on the couch, back to the rest of the room.

“Beloved?” Kiyoomi’s voice felt too loud in the soundless apartment, especially when he saw (Y/N)’s shoulders tense. “Why are you out here? Why didn’t you come to bed?”

“Sorry Kiyoomi, I didn’t mean to wake you up when I came home.” (Y/N) sat up, avoiding eye contact.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Kiyoomi walked into the living room slowly, waiting for any sign that (Y/N) wanted to be left alone. “I should actually be the one apologizing. I overreacted earlier and I didn’t appreciate all the work you did today, I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, but I overreacted too. I was an ass and I wasn’t listening to you about how you felt.” (Y/N) pulled his knees up to his chest, finally looking over to Kiyoomi, who stood a few feet away shuffling his feet and pulling at his fingers.

“I thought you were still mad at me when you didn’t come to bed.” Kiyoomi’s eyes were tied and sad as he inched a little closer. (Y/N) straightened his legs back out before holding a hand out to Kiyoomi, who quickly accepted it and climbed into his lap.

“I’m sorry I worried you.” (Y/N) mumbled into his neck after Kiyoomi settled.

“I know, but I think it was good that you went on that walk. It gave us both time to cool off and rethink.” Kiyoomi wrapped his arms around (Y/N)’s shoulders, relaxing against him. “But it felt weird eating alone.” (Y/N) chuckled at that, pressing his nose tighter to Kiyoomi’s neck.

“I know, it felt weird walking around without you.” (Y/N) clasped his hands together over Kiyoomi’s lower back. “Felt weird going to Osamu’s restaurant without you.” Kiyoomi pushed himself up, giving a playful pout.

“You went without me?”

“I didn’t even realize I had walked all the way there, I guess my stomach was more in charge than my brain, huh?” They both laughed, relaxing into each other’s warmth again.

“We should probably go to bed, Beloved.” Kiyoomi finally murmured, though he made no move to get up.

“Why is it past your bedtime, Omi?” (Y/N) teased lightly, making Kiyoomi smile fondly at the return of his nickname.

“Yes.” (Y/N) laughed harder at his quiet response before gently pushing at his stomach.

And when (Y/N) left the bathroom after emptying his stomach, he was greeted by Kiyoomi, wearing a mask and gloves, quickly ushering him into the guest room. (Y/N), fevered, half asleep, and still recovering from throwing up, groaned at the thought of sleeping in the guest bed. It wasn’t that it was uncomfortable but it wasn’t right.

“I know, I’m sorry, but I have a game coming up and I can’t get sick. And even if I didn’t have a game, someone needs to be well enough to take care of you.” Kiyoomi gently pushed (Y/N) onto the bed, pulling the covers up over him.

“Don’ wanna sleep alone.” (Y/N) pouted back.

“I know I’m sorry. I’m going to go get a washcloth to cool you down and in the morning I’ll go out and get you some medicine.” Kiyoomi tried to comfort him, but (Y/N) just grumbled and rolled over, showing Kiyoomi his back. “Goodnight, I’ll be back in a minute.”

(Y/N) woke up a few hours later with a slightly damp washcloth on his forehead, very confused as to why he wasn’t in his own room with his boyfriend. But a fever chill wracked through his body reminding him that he had been quarantined to the guest bedroom after throwing up in the middle of the night. (Y/N) looked over to the nightstand, grabbing the glass of water Kiyoomi had left him in the middle of the night and drinking the whole thing quickly. He stayed sitting against the headboard, considering if he could get away with getting up to get more water, when Kiyoomi opened the door.

“Oh, you’re awake.” (Y/N) could see his eyes crinkle into a smile above his face mask, and his frown deepened. “Don’t make that face at me, I brought you some medicine.” He came to perch on the bed right next to him, opening up the bag and pulling out all the medicine he had bought, “liquid medicine” (Y/N) cringed, watching as he poured out the proper amount. “Drink up, please.” (Y/N) continued to stare up at him as he held out the little medicine cup, which was dwarfed by his large hands, before sliding down under the covers and rolling over. “Hey! You need to take your medicine so you can get better.”

Kiyoomi was almost 100% sure he was just being stubborn for the sake of being stubborn. And (Y/N) was. Kiyoomi sighed, setting the little cup on the nightstand next to the empty glass.

“I’m going to get you some more water and some crackers.” Kiyoomi rubbed a gloved knuckle over (Y/N)’s shoulder, only leaving when he heard the soft grunt of acknowledgement.

When Kiyoomi walked back down the hallway with the water and crackers and cringed when he heard retching from the mostly closed bathroom door. He sat everything down on the nightstand in the guest room, before going in to help (Y/N), who had finished throwing up nothing and rested his against the toilet seat. He crouched behind (Y/N), softly rubbing his back, whispering comforting words.

“Do you want to take a bath? Do you think that would help, beloved?” Kiyoomi was careful to keep his voice low, thankfully guessing correctly at the state of (Y/N)’s throbbing headache. (Y/N) nodded, weakly pushing himself off the toilet to lean back against the wall, bringing his knees to his chest to rest his chin on. Kiyoomi smiled, starting the bath, taking the gloves off finally to check the water temperature. “Come here, let me help you in.” He finally called when he was happy with the water temperature, helping him stand up and get undressed, and keeping him steady as he sat down in the tub. Kiyoomi gently washed (Y/N)’s face with a washcloth, wiping away the thin layer of sweat that had collected on his brow.

Kiyoomi stopped wiping (Y/N)’s face when he started to readjust himself, leaning his face against Kiyoomi’s arm with a small smile. Kiyoomi took this chance to wash his back.

“You feeling better?” Kiyoomi finally whispered, leaning down to press his masked cheek against (Y/N)’s clammy forehead, smiling when he felt him nod. “Does that mean I can get you to take your medicine when I get you back in bed?” Kiyoomi sighed when he felt (Y/N) shake his head no this time. “Why?” (Y/N) only grunted, nuzzling his face tighter against Kiyoomi’s arm. “Let me wipe your face down one more time, then you can go lay back down.”

Now Kiyoomi was at his wits end, yes, he loved (Y/N) but he was being ridiculous. It was almost dinnertime and he still hadn’t taken his medicine, he refused to eat, and barely drank any water. He’d called out from practice to tend to his sick boyfriend, but said boyfriend refused to be tended to.

“Why are you being such a stubborn ass!” He finally snapped when (Y/N) refused the little cup of medicine for the umpteenth time. Kiyoomi had to grab his arm to stop him from rolling over again. “Answer me or I’m taking you to the hospital.” (Y/N)’s face twisted into a bitter pout, staying quiet for a minute.

“I don’t feel good.” He finally croaked.

“I know bu-“

“Got kicked out of my bed at three in the morning after pukin’ up my dinner.” (Y/N) interrupted him, shaking off Kiyoomi’s hand to cross his arms over his chest. “Y’don’ even wanna be near me.” (Y/N) finally dropped his head to the side, refusing to look anywhere near his boyfriend. “Bed doesn’t feel right when ‘m not sleepin’ next to you.”

“I’m dumb, aren’t I.” Kiyoomi finally sighed, hiding his face in his hands, laughing a little when he heard a soft ‘mmhmm’ from his boyfriend. “I’ll be back in a second, I promise.”

Kiyoomi left to the kitchen, making a bowl of soup as fast as he could, bringing it, some water, and the dreaded medicine into their bedroom before going back to the guest room.

“Hey, come on. Let’s go to bed.” Kiyoomi pulled (Y/N) out of the guest bedroom and into their bed sitting up against the headboard. Kiyoomi pushed his hand away from the soup he had pulled into his lap with a small chuckle. “I said that I was going to take care of you and I meant it, even if I did such a horrible job of it today. If I can’t feed you soup, what good am I?” (Y/N) blinked at him slowly, finally letting out a small chuckle and accepting the offered spoonful of soup.

The soup was gone, the water drank, all that was left was the medicine. And the room was too dark for Kiyoomi to see if (Y/N) still had that defiant twinkle in his eyes. (Y/N) was starting to shuffle around, trying to get under the blankets without fully laying down.

“Beloved?” (Y/N) stopped, looking up at Kiyoomi like a deer caught in the headlights. “Will you take your medicine now?” (Y/N) averted his eyes, fiddling with the blankets. “You’re acting like a child you know.” Kiyoomi’s tone was mostly teasing, but even in his fevered state (Y/N) could still hear his annoyance.

“Don’t like liquid medicine.” He quietly mumbled, still looking away.

“No one likes it, beloved, but please. Just take the medicine.” Kiyoomi put a gentle hand on his knee. “I want you to feel better, I don’t like seeing you miserable like this.”

“Will you get me some water then? To wash it down.” (Y/N) put his hand right next to Kiyoomi’s on his leg, fingers centimeters before touching.

“Of course, beloved, you just had to ask.” Kiyoomi stood up, pulling his mask down to place a gentle kiss to (Y/N)’s sweaty hairline. “I’ll be right back.” He grabbed the empty water cup as he left, filling it up and getting back as quick as he could.

“C’mon, medicine, then you can go to sleep.” Kiyoomi whispered, sliding into the bed next to (Y/N), handing him the little cup of medicine again. (Y/N) shuffled down, tucking himself under Kiyoomi’s arm, letting him push the little cup against his lips. He took the medicine without a fight, coughing and sputtering at the taste once he drank it, then taking a few sips of water before snuggling even further down into the covers, turning on his side to rest his cheek against Kiyoomi’s thigh, throwing an arm across his lap as well. “Good night, beloved.” Kiyoomi whispered, running his fingers through (Y/N)’s hair, smiling as he felt the tension leave his sick boyfriend’s body.

“Night Omi.” (Y/N) slurred out, snuggling even closer to Kiyoomi and falling asleep quickly.

“It’s whatever, I’m not important in my club like you are.” (Y/N) started to swing their hands, laughing as Kiyoomi grunted in disapproval.

“You winced when you put the hand sanitizer on, what did you do?” Kiyoomi finally broke the silence after a few minutes of walking.

“It’s nothing, I just fell off my skateboard.” (Y/N) unwound their hands and presented the scraped up palm to Kiyoomi. “I was just messing around while I was waiting for you and I slipped.”

“You need to be more careful, why don’t you ever wear any padding! You’re going to get really hurt one of these days.” Kiyoomi ran soft fingers across his palm. “I’ll clean it up when we get back to my house, before we start studying.”

“Sounds good, babe!” (Y/N) grinned back, interlacing their hands again. “Do you have a lot of homework today? I finished up most of my stuff today!”

“That’s surprising, you normally put everything off until the last minute.” Kiyoomi teased with a small smile, hidden behind his mask.

“Hey! I mean I know but still.” (Y/N) pouted. “I knew we were hanging out today, I wanted to get stuff done early so we could actually, y’know, hang out.” Kiyoomi’s cheeks flushed at that, his smile spreading further.

“I only have a little bit of work to do as well, so don’t worry.” (Y/N) jumped in excitement, throwing his hands above his head.

“Nice!”

“Ow! That stings, Omi!” (Y/N) whined, weakly pulling his wrist from where Kiyoomi held it. Kiyoomi looked dead into his eyes, standing between his legs as (Y/N) sat up on the bathroom counter.

“You should have thought about that before you went and fell without any padding.” (Y/N) pouted, leaning back to take in his boyfriend’s face. Now that they were safely inside Kiyoomi’s house he had taken his mask off, giving them the chance to admire his face. The way his moles peeked from behind his curly hair, the stern look of concentration as he cleaned the scrapes on (Y/N)’s palm. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Wha-,” Kiyoomi’s voice made him jump, finally coming back to reality. “What am I not allowed to stare at my boyfriend? Is it a crime that he’s too pretty for his own good?” This time Kiyoomi had nothing to hide his blush behind, making direct eye contact while he tried to stutter out a reply.

“We need to get started on our school work.” Kiyoomi abruptly turned and walked towards his room, grabbing the backpack he had set down carefully along the way, leaving (Y/N) to follow, still grinning and laughing like an idiot.

(Y/N) lay on the floor right behind Sakusa, who sat in his desk chair, both quietly working on their school work, basking in each other’s company. (Y/N) was trying to keep his school work mostly organized, out of respect for Kiyoomi’s space, and he tried to stay on track with his work but kept getting distracted glancing up at Kiyoomi’s concentrated face.

“You’re doing it again.” (Y/N) rolled onto his back with a groan, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“And my boyfriend’s still handsome, what about it?” (Y/N) muttered.

“It’s distracting. For both of us.” Kiyoomi shot back, earning a raspberry blown in his direction from his boyfriend sprawled on his floor. Kiyoomi spun in his chair to lean over the top of (Y/N). “How close are you to finishing your work?”

“I’ve actually been done for a while, I just didn’t wanna distract you.”

“Well that’s a dumb plan.”

“And why’s that, I figured you’d be appreciative of me letting you work.” (Y/N) took his arm away from his face, looking a little smug.

“It’s a dumb plan because I’ve been finished for a while too. I thought you were still working. I didn’t want to disturb your focus. You had been so quiet for so long, I figured you were really in the zone.” (Y/N) laughed loudly at his confession, sitting up to be face to face with Kiyoomi, making a kissy noise as Kiyoomi sat back up a little straighter.

“Well if we’re both all done, then you should come down here and lay with me!” (Y/N) flopped back down, patting his stomach to invite Kiyoomi to come lay on top of him.

“Can’t we go lay on the perfectly fine bed?”

“But I’m already laying on the perfectly fine floor?” Kiyoomi sighed at the jokingly sad face (Y/N) pulled, still patting his stomach, waiting for Kiyoomi. (Y/N)’s face instantly brightened as Kiyoomi slid off his desk chair, grabbing at his wrist to pull him down onto him. (Y/N) let him readjust before wrapping one arm around his back, bringing the other to rest behind his head like a pillow and closing his eyes.

“Hey, are you going to sleep?” (Y/N) cracked an eye at Kiyoomi’s sudden question, shrugging as best he could. “You got me all the way down here and now you’re just going to go to sleep?” Kiyoomi rested his chin against (Y/N)’s chest with a pout. (Y/N) stared down at the volleyball player, eyes twinkling with mischief, before leaning forward slow enough to give Kiyoomi time to stop them, but still quick enough to be a little surprising, and planted a soft kiss in-between the moles on his forehead.

“What d’you wanna do then?”

“Do you want to go to that park? I know you mentioned that it looked good for skateboarding.”

“Really, Omi?” (Y/N) sat up, pushing Kiyoomi off his chest and into his lap with the momentum, grinning wide.

“Yeah, I like to watch you have fun.” Kiyoomi smiled back softly, returning the kiss he had just received, this time aiming for (Y/N)’s lips for a quick peck, before getting up and grabbing a jacket from his closet. (Y/N) jumped up after him, throwing all of his school stuff into his backpack messily before jogging down the hallway after Kiyoomi. They put on their shoes together, and (Y/N) grabbed his skateboard, before they both left the house. (Y/N) dropped his skateboard down, circling around Kiyoomi and laughing.

“Would you want me to teach you how to skateboard, Omi?” (Y/N) finally asked, slowing down to keep pace next to him.

“I’m not sure. You didn’t bring a helmet or anything with you, I don’t want to get hurt.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” (Y/N) thought for a moment, continuing to roll next to his boyfriend. “I think you should come to my house this weekend then! I have helmets and knee pads and elbow pads and all that there! There’s even a skatepark kinda close by! But that might be a little advanced.”

“I’ll have to check and make sure I’m not busy, but that sounds good.”

They hung around the park together for a while, but eventually Kiyoomi mentioned that he had to head home because dinner would be ready soon. (Y/N) nodded, stopping the board and grabbing it before running over to where Kiyoomi had been watching him.

“I wish you could hang out longer, but I’ll see you at school tomorrow, yeah?” (Y/N) stayed a small distance from Kiyoomi as he spoke.

“Yeah.” Kiyoomi smiled back.

“Alright, see ya, Omi! I’d give you a hug but I got kinda sweaty, and I don’t blame you for not liking that.” (Y/N) gave him an understanding smile before stepping back again. “Anyways, I should probably get home too, or I might miss dinner” He laughed, waving as he dropped the skateboard onto the ground and made his departure, turning to wave one last time before he went around a corner.

“Have you seen (Y/N) today yet?” Kiyoomi walked over to Motoya during the break between classes, a concerned frown behind his mask.

“Huh? Oh no I haven’t, sorry.” Motoya responded, looking up from his notebook in his lap.

“He hasn’t been answering my texts all day, and we were hanging out last night. I wonder if I did something wrong.” He twisted his fist into the fabric of his uniform.

“I doubt it. (Y/N) doesn’t seem like the type to ghost you if you did something wrong, I think he’d just outright say something.” Motoya tried to comfort his cousin. “Maybe he just needed to meet with a teacher or something.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

When Kiyoomi walked towards the school gate after practice and still saw no sight of (Y/N), he got even more worried than he already was. But all he could do was send another text, asking where he was before heading home, as he had promised his parents that he would go home right after practice to go out for a family dinner.

(Y/N) meanwhile, was passed out in his bed, and had been all day. A brand new cast wrapped around his wrist, which was propped up on a couple pillows. On his way home from his date with Kiyoomi at the park, he had fallen off his skateboard trying to jump a couple stairs, breaking his wrist in the process. The worst part is that he had ignored the pain in his wrist for a while, having to get all the way home, eat dinner, and get ready for bed.

It was when he was walking back to his room after brushing his teeth that (Y/N)’s parent noticed how swollen and bruised (Y/N)’s wrist was. And finally, after a drive to the hospital, a long wait in the waiting room, a few x-rays, and finally a cast, (Y/N) was discharged and sent home to rest. He only got up a few times, mainly to eat and get more painkillers, before quickly going back to bed, completely unaware of the many unanswered texts and missed calls from Kiyoomi on the phone that sat forgotten in his pants pockets.

It was only when he was getting ready for school the day after that he noticed, but (Y/N) was in such a rush that he didn’t have time to answer, already being late to his first class. (Y/N) stopped at the front office, dropping off his skateboard with the front desk lady and explaining yesterdays’ absence. She sent him to class with a tardy slip, putting the skateboard behind her desk.

(Y/N) spent the rest of his day with no break. Spending any time between classes making up what they had missed yesterday with teachers, turning in what was due yesterday, and trying to get on top of what they were given in class that day. He was also trying to adjust to writing with his non-dominant hand, unable to move his wrist to write due to the cast.

His friends that he shared classes with teased him as the day went on, as he got more and more pouty.

“Dude, are you that tired?” One laughed, gently nudging (Y/N)’s shoulder while he rested his head on his arms against the desk.

“My wrist hurts still! ‘Nd I haven’t gotten to talk to Kiyoomi since we hung out after school right before I broke my wrist.” (Y/N) grumbled back, sitting back up, dropping his head back.

“Aw, you miss your boyfriend?”

“Yes,” He looked over to them with a stern pout. “Slept all day yesterday and I never got to answer his texts or calls this morning because I was so late.”

“Ha! Dude you’re whipped!” (Y/N) growled at them, opening his mouth to shoot something back when the teacher called his friend’s name, telling them to be quiet and get back to work.

(Y/N) bounced on his feet excitedly while he waited by the gate, school had ended and he had gone to his club for once to try and pass the time, waiting anxiously to see Kiyoomi. He waved goodbye to his friends as they left, pacing around where he had left his backpack and skateboard.

“(Y/N)?” Of course the second he turns his back Kiyoomi approaches. He whips around with an excited smile, only to falter at Kiyoomi’s unhappy aura. “You never answered any of my calls. Or texts.”

“I’m sorry, babe, I was sleeping all day yesterday. I kinda, y’know, broke my wrist on my way home from hanging out with you.”

“You what!?” Kiyoomi ran over to him, grabbing at the elbow above his cast, quickly inspecting it. “Why didn’t you tell me?” (Y/N) hated how crestfallen he sounded.

“I didn’t do it on purpose, I promise. I didn’t wanna worry you when I went to the hospital because it was super late and I was actually getting ready for bed, and then it was super early in the morning by the time I got home and I still didn’t wanna bother you, and I was running super late this morning. I promise you I just didn’t want to make you worry!” (Y/N) whined, watching Kiyoomi’s hands play with his fingers, before quickly snatching his hands back. “Oh wait! My hands are dirty! I haven’t had any hand sanitizer and even if I did it’s hard to put it on without getting it all over the cast.” He took a careful set back, trying to give his boyfriend the space he needed.

“It’s fine, give me back your hand.” Kiyoomi pulled out his small bottle of hand sanitizer, pouring some into his palm. (Y/N) watched him gently rub it onto his fingers.

“What would I ever do without you?” (Y/N) laughed, ducking his head to try and hide his warm cheeks.

“You might die.” They both started laughing, before Kiyoomi caught sight of the skateboard leaning against (Y/N)’s backpack. “And you still might die. Why are you riding around on that with a newly broken wrist!”

“I couldn’t get a ride today.” (Y/N) pouted back. “And I only got hurt because I tried to jump some stairs, I can ride perfectly fine when I’m not trying to show off.”

“Still, it’s just asking for trouble.”

“Maybe so! But now I have you to keep me safe!”

He thought the cheer team was sick and cruel. They were loud, overwhelmingly so, and even he had trouble focusing on playing sometimes, he pitied the other teams.

Now he was running far out of bounds to try and dig up a deflected block. He dove, sliding along the gym floor, pushing his hand below the ball and sending it back towards the court, towards Atsumu who would make a perfect set for any one of the team's powerful attackers to slam into the opposing side of the court and score another point. (Y/N) got to his knees, panting, watching over his shoulder as Aran scored another point. While the ball was passed back over for the next serve, (Y/N) jogged back to his spot on the court, crouching down waiting for the ball to return to him.

“You okay?” Osamu called over to him, glancing out of the corner of his eyes, watching him nod back. “Good.”

The serve was returned, but (Y/N) didn’t need to worry about returning it when Atsumu set it at first contact. Somehow the opposing team sent the ball back over the net around the blockers, forcing (Y/N) to dive for the ball, digging it up, but before he could jump up and get out of the way, someone had stepped on his left ankle, stumbling to try and get towards the net. Pain shot through his ankle but he had to ignore it, standing back up and moving to the back row, keeping as much weight off his ankle as he could, running off pure adrenaline.

His ankle throbbed as he watched the ball pass from person to person on the other side of the net, before the blockers led the ball straight to his arms. He crouched down on his right leg, which shook under his weight, his left leg out straight to imitate proper form. It was his first game, he had to ignore the cheer team, ignore the pain, he couldn’t leave his team without a libero. Was the game always this fast? How was the ball already coming back towards him? He could see the path of the ball, he lunged to the left, somehow forgetting the terrible pain until he stomped down on his ankle, collapsing in an instant, stuck watching the ball hit the floor just out of his reach. All eyes were on him as he shakily tried to push himself off the floor, the pain in his ankle getting so bad that his vision was blurring.

Inarizaki’s cheer team screamed their disapproval, despite the large point lead they had, he had just given up an easy point by tripping over his own feet. The noises all blurred together and he could feel his heartbeat in his ankle, and his teammates finally realized he wasn’t getting up. Then suddenly everyone was crowding around him, catching the attention of the coaches and referees, who stopped the game. The crowd had stopped, realizing now that something was actually wrong when their coach ran over, placing a concerned hand on his shoulder, the final push of his overstimulation.

“Don’t touch me!” He blindly smacked the hand away before shouting in pain when the swing of his arm jostled his whole body. The adrenaline from the game was slowly leaving his body, letting the pain hit him like a truck.

“We have to get you off the court, you obviously can’t play right now.” The hand was put under his bicep this time, gently pulling him up to sit. “Where does it hurt?”

“Ankle.” (Y/N) finally whimpered, pulling his knee to his chest to lift his foot off the ground.

“Let’s get you to the nurse, come on.” A set of arms went under each of his arms, lifting him off the ground and barely letting his good foot hit the floor, practically carrying him through the nearly empty halls to the nurses office.

He ended up in the E.R., whoever had stepped on his ankle had fractured something, leaving him stuck in a cast.

He could feel eyes on him as he crutched down the hall, everyone had heard about what happened during the game, and the pity and guilt that (Y/N) could feel in their stares made him scowl harder. No one had approached him, which is exactly what he wanted. He just wanted to get through his day, turn in his jersey, and go home.

(Y/N) could hear Atsumu yelling as he approached the gym, wincing when it somehow got even louder. He waited just inside the doors, not wanting to track dirt into the gym, hoping that only Coach Kurosu would notice his messy figure in the door. His uniform shirt was rumpled, his tie barely tied, one pant leg rolled above his cast, and to top it all off deep, dark circles around his eyes.

“Oh hey.” Osamu was suddenly in front of him, making (Y/N) jump a little. “Didn’t think I’d see you at practice, shouldn’t you be home resting.”

“‘M turning in my jersey.” (Y/N) grumbled back, suddenly deciding that he was done waiting for his coach to notice his arrival, crutching away quickly to hide the growing flush on his cheeks.

“What? Why-”

“Hey, (Y/N)! Shouldn’t you be home resting?” Osamu is quickly interrupted by Atsumu, who shoved him out of the way. (Y/N) ignored them both, listening to them push each other around as he balanced on one leg trying to swing his backpack around and pull out the jerseys.

“(L/N), why are you here?” Coach Kurosu asked, finally looking over, a little shocked to see the libero.

“Turning in my jersey.” (Y/N) presented the folded clothes to him.

“Are you sure?” Coach Kurosu was hesitant to accept them, raising one of his eyebrows.

“Doctor said I wouldn’t be out of the cast for a few months, and even after that I might need physical therapy to get my strength back. I won’t be able to play any time soon, so I might as well give someone else a chance.” (Y/N) scowled down at the floor, hating the feeling of the entire team’s eyes on him.

“I see, I’m sorry.” (Y/N) just nodded, readjusting his backpack on his shoulders.

“Goodbye.” He mumbled.

“Rest up, I hope you’ll be back next season.” (Y/N) nodded again, turning around to leave the gym, only to walk right into the broad chest of the grey haired Miya twin.

“Yer quittin’ the team?” He almost sounded hurt, and it made (Y/N)’s throat tighten.

“Not like I want to.” (Y/N) knew he wouldn’t be able to get out of this conversation, stuck arguing with his crush, also unable to stop the growing heat in his cheeks.

“Are ya still gonna come to practice?”

“Why would I? You gonna miss me or something?” (Y/N) teased with a small laugh, watching Osamu sputter as his cheeks flushed red.

“Well, we’re friends aren’t we? And it’s not like we have any classes together.” (Y/N) stopped laughing, a little shocked. “So, yeah. Guess I would.”

“Oh,” A small smile spread across both of their faces. “Well then maybe not every day, but a couple times a week.” 

“‘Samu! Come hit some more spikes, I wanna see how low I can get below a set!” Both jumped, looking over to Atsumu, who looked ready to throw the volleyball in his hands at his twin.

That was until he entered his life. (Y/N) was a transfer student who decided he needed to be Kiyoomi’s new best friend. And despite how pushy (Y/N) was about becoming his friend, he was nothing but respectful of Kiyoomi’s strict boundaries. Never laid a finger on Kiyoomi without permission, and didn’t make a fuss if he was told no, which a surprising amount of people did, (Y/N) had even bought his own bottle of hand sanitizer to use around Kiyoomi, despite the very visible pain in his face when he used it, most likely, Kiyoomi assumed, from hangnails or other small cuts on his hands.

It was a surprising outcome for Kiyoomi to say the least. So many people scoffed at his boundaries, and it was refreshing to find someone who actually respected them without a fight. And it didn’t help that (Y/N) was handsome. Very handsome. Distractingly handsome. Kiyoomi found himself staring at (Y/N) during class when the teacher was lecturing.

And Motoya found the entire situation hilarious. Kiyoomi didn’t have to say anything for his cousin to recognize the love struck look on his face when Kiyoomi thought no one was looking. But he was a merciful cousin, so he kept whatever teasing comments he had to himself. For now. Motoya would let his cousin come to the realization on his own and come to him when he was ready.

“Hey, hey, Kiyoomi! How was your weekend?” Kiyoomi glanced up from the book on his desk, watching (Y/N) plop down heavily into the seat next to him.

“Fine.” He turned his attention back to his book, hiding his slowly warming cheeks.

“That’s good! Sorry I missed your game, had to go to a family member’s house. I heard y’all won though! You must be excited for that, right?” (Y/N) started pulling out his notebook while he spoke.

“It’s not like you’re obligated to show up to every game, you aren’t on the team.” Kiyoomi mumbled back, cringing a little at how harsh he sounded. He just wanted to assure (Y/N) that he had nothing to feel bad about, but he really did like looking up to see him in the crowd. “But yeah, I guess it is exciting.”

“Oh I know I don’t have to be there for every game, but I like to go! It’s nice to see you in your element, anyone can tell by the look on your place while you play that you really enjoy it.” Kiyoomi’s face flushed dark at that and luckily he was saved from trying to figure out a response by the bell ringing, signifying the beginning of class.

But Motoya heard everything, and the awkwardness was almost painful. This was the end of his silence, at lunch he would begin his teasing.

“Don’t even open your mouth, I know you heard all that.” Kiyoomi didn’t even let him let out a sound when they met up to go walk to their normal lunch spot. Motoya laughed, sitting down on the bench and pulling his lunch out of his bag.

“I didn’t need to hear it, I could see it. In both of you.” Motoya shot back.

“Both of us?”

“Yeah, did you seriously not notice? He’s definitely into you.”

“Well it- I don’t… I don’t know what I’m even supposed to be looking for in all that.” Kiyoomi pulled his mask down to start eating his own lunch with a pout.

“Well I do, and I say you need to confess.” Motoya said back, very matter of factly.

“We’re barely even friends though.”

“And you’ll never become more if you don’t say something.” Kiyoomi stayed quiet, thinking over all of his new information.

“Hey can I come sit with you guys?” The cousins looked up at (Y/N), who was now approaching with his lunch. Motoya glanced over at Kiyoomi with an almost evil look before nodding.

“Yeah! You can take my spot, I need to go get something from the club room anyways!” He smiled innocently to Kiyoomi who shot him a slightly terrified look. Motoya even squinted his eyes a little, a silent threat of ‘you better tell him’, before collecting his bag and walking away. (Y/N) sat down at the edge of the bench, trying to give Kiyoomi as much space as he could.

“What’s that face for? You and Motoya have a fight or something?” (Y/N) picked at his food before quickly adding on, “You don’t have to tell me if you did! It’s none of my business, I just don’t like seeing you upset.” He smiled awkwardly into his lap.

“No it’s nothing like that. I’ve just been thinking.” Should he tell him now? “I’ve been thinking that…”What if Motoya was wrong? “I don’t want to be friends with you…”

“Oh. That’s fine I guess.” (Y/N) stopped picking at his food, “Could’ve said something earlier.” He stood, grabbing his bag and storming off, not letting Kiyoomi get the rest of his sentence out. Kiyoomi was so caught up in his own processing, he hadn’t even realized how slowly he was talking. And just how awful it sounded. “I want to be something more.” 6 extra words would have changed the entire reaction, he was sure of it, he just couldn’t spit it out fast enough.

Kiyoomi Sakusa was not good with words, and now it actually mattered. He had just told the boy that he liked more than he had liked anyone else, that he didn’t want to be his friend. He sat on the bench alone, feeling sick to his stomach. How could he have fucked this up so much so quickly? Motoya made this seem so easy, why couldn’t anything ever be as easy as people said it was?

Kiyoomi didn’t realize how long he sat in shock, not until the bell rang and all the students started collecting their things to head back to class. At his desk he waited for a cheerful greeting, even though he knew it wouldn’t come. (Y/N) wouldn’t even spare him a glance, not that Kiyoomi could blame him. He just sat slouched back in his chair glaring at the front of the room. Kiyoomi could feel the anger and pain radiating off of his crush and it made him hang his head in shame.

“What happened after I left?” Motoya broke the awkward silence between them and he and Kiyoomi walked to the club room to get ready for practice.

“I-“ Kiyoomi’s voice wavered and he dropped his head again, hiding his face behind his hair. “I fucked up. You made it sound so easy and somehow I fucked everything up and I don’t know how to fix it.” He explained everything to Motoya, still refusing to look up. “And I don’t know why but it feels worse that he’s angry at me, being sad is easier to fix.”

“You have to fix this.” Motoya finally said.

“I know! Do you really think I don’t know that? I don’t know how! I can barely talk to him, he makes me so nervous, and now he’s mad at me and he has every reason to be. All because I’m so stupid and couldn’t just lead with the fact that I liked him.”

“You need to explain. You shouldn’t expect an apology but-“

“I don’t!”

“I know, but it’s always good to clarify. But you need to actually talk to him and make sure he hears you out. You should do it now. Catch him before he leaves campus. It’s not like you’re going to be able to play well anyways.” The last bit was supposed to be light hearted but Kiyoomi knew he was right. His head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton and the only clear part was the the pain in (Y/N)’s voice right before he stormed away and the almost scary glare on his face during their last class. Kiyoomi nods before veering off the path to the volleyball club room towards (Y/N)’s club room.

The student who opened the door when he knocked looked confused at his slumped form.

“Um, aren’t you- Don’t you have your own club to be at?” He was trying to hide behind the door while still blocking his view into the club room.

“Could I talk to (Y/N)? It’s important, please.” The boy hesitated behind the door, looking back over his shoulder. A hand pulled him back, and a new figure quickly replaced him at the door. (Y/N) stood in front of Kiyoomi with a blank look on his face.

“Why are you here? You should be at your own club.” (Y/N) tried to close the door in his face but Kiyoomi grabbed it.

“Please, I need to talk to you. You don’t have to forgive me, you just need to listen.”

“Fine.” (Y/N) opened the door again, stepping out into the hallway. “Let's go.” (Y/N) didn’t make sure Kiyoomi was following before he started walking away.

He stopped in the courtyard, his back to Kiyoomi, looking at the bench they had sat on at lunch that day.

“Well, are you gonna say something? Or did you bring me out here to lead me on some more.” (Y/N)’s voice was hard and unwavering, but Kiyoomi could still hear the hurt in it and it broke his heart even more. “If you didn’t want me around you should have said it from the start, I know you aren’t shy about telling people to get away from you. It’s kinda fucked that you let me make a fool of myself for so long.”

“I do want you around.” Kiyoomi’s voice was barely above a whisper, so low that (Y/N) could barely hear him. He finally turned around to face Kiyoomi.

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh? ‘Cause you kinda said the opposite earlier!” (Y/N) stepped forward, lips curled in a snarl. “You can’t say shit like ‘I don’t want to be friends with you’ and then double back on it right after!”

“You never let me finish! I had more to say but you just ran away.” Kiyoomi glared back at him. “I’m not good with my words, and I didn’t get the chance to think out how to say it, but I like you as more than a friend. That’s what I wanted to say!” They stood in silence together, Kiyoomi’s face flushed dark, staring at the floor. He couldn’t move when (Y/N) stepped forward. And then again. And again. Until their toes were almost touching.

“Kinda a shitty way to say it, y’know.” Kiyoomi nodded at his words, preparing for the worst. “If you had just led with that, we could have avoided all that drama. I like you too, y’know.” The black haired volleyball player looked up in shock.

“Really? Even after all that?”

“I mean, yeah. I know you aren’t really great with words, and I tend to overreact and shut down a little when I get upset. So I’m sorry for that, for not hearing you out.” (Y/N) offered him a meek smile. “Would a date make it up to you?”

“It’s not all your fault, but yeah. I think it will.” Kiyoomi smiled back behind his mask.

“I’ll let you pick what we do, yeah? Oh! And here’s my phone number.” They were both so giddy, exchanging phone numbers, both blushing when their hands would brush together while exchanging their phones. Kiyoomi watched (Y/N) as he messed with his phone a little longer, both held a stupid smile on their faces, but Kiyoomi saw his chance. Pulling down his mask, Kiyoomi pressed his soft lips against (Y/N)’s cheek before quickly pulling back and hiding his bright red face behind his mask again. (Y/N) looked over with a shocked and flustered face, which quickly melted into another smile and laugh.

“We should both probably get back to our clubs now, I’ll talk to you later though!” With that (Y/N) scrambled off in the direction they had come from, silently cheering and fist pumping his own accomplishment in getting a date. Kiyoomi followed soon after, making his way to the volleyball gym a little slower.

By the time Kiyoomi was dressed in his practice clothes and in the gym he was well past late. He gave his teammates no time to question his absence before going straight into warm ups and practice.

Motoya walked over to him during their water break with a smug smile on his face. Kiyoomi knew exactly what was coming, but he was in such a good mood that he didn’t care. He was just excitedly waiting for practice to be over and for (Y/N) to text him.

The bus ride back was loud, Itachyama had won despite the small hiccup. (Y/N) sat near the back, tucked into himself, stewing in his own anger and what ifs. His team mates deserved to celebrate their victory, but (Y/N) needed to get better. Train until he couldn’t so that for once he wasn’t dragging everyone down.

And once the bus pulled into the school parking lot, that’s exactly what he did. Getting the gym key from Iizuna, (Y/N) set up by himself.

He spent an hour serving before his shoulder started to ache. Just trying to get a regular toss serve over the net. That’s all he wanted. Why couldn’t he just-

“Why are you still here.” The sudden voice made them jolt, botching their already doomed serve sending it into the floor in front of them. “It’s late and that was a hard game. For everyone. Rest is important.”

Kiyoomi Sakusa stood before him, in the same tacky, highlighter colored gym clothes, mask covering the lower part of his face.

“It’s none of your business.” (Y/N) stepped forward, grabbing the ball off the floor.

“You’re my team mate, your performance is my business and if you don’t get the proper amount of sleep it will affect your performance. We still have practice tomorrow in case you forgot.”

“I didn’t forget.” (Y/N) snarled back. “And don’t act like you’ve never practiced on your own.”

“I don’t practice after games.” The matter of factness in his voice was cutting (Y/N)’s fuse even shorter than it had been. “It’s important to let your body heal-”

“Just shut up, would you? I didn’t ask for your fucking opinion on my training!” (Y/N) threw the volleyball at his chest, catching him off guard. “None of you get it! If I can’t hit the ball straight through then why am I even here! Why have I spent years working my ass off for a sport I can barely play!” (Y/N) dropped his head, panting heavily.

“I don’t have good technique like everyone else. I’m too far behind to worry about fixing my technique now, but…” (Y/N) sniffled, twisting his hand into his shirt before finally looking Kiyoomi dead in the eyes, tears streaming down his face. “I’ll break through! Whatever it takes!”

(Y/N) let out a shuddering sob before collapsing to his knees, haunching over, forehead inches above the floor, arm pinched between his chest and legs.

“It doesn’t matter how much it hurts. I need to get stronger. To break through. Because if I can’t…” His hand twisted tighter in his shirt, nails digging into the skin beneath it. “What good am I to the team? Why am I here?” He started to shake and his voice wavered as he lost his volume. “I can’t let myself be a dead weight to the team.” A sob racked through his body as he collapsed fully onto the ground, face pressed against the hard floor. “I can’t.”

The last words were barely more than a whimper, so quiet that Kiyoomi almost lost them between all the sobs. Kiyoomi didn’t know what to do, but he knew he needed to do something when he saw (Y/N) grab a fistful of his own hair and pull. Kiyoomi took a hesitant step forward, crouching down by (Y/N)’s head.

“You still need to take care of yourself.” Kiyoomi put a hesitant hand over the one that (Y/N) was still pulling at his hair with. “You can’t play if you hurt yourself trying to push past your limits.” He gently untangled (Y/N)’s fingers from his hair, stopping the pulling. (Y/N) pushed himself up, shocked at just how close Kiyoomi was to him. A hand brushed away the tears from his eyes and (Y/N) had to stop himself from flinching away. “You’re important to the team… And to me. I don’t like seeing you hurt like this.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened at that. Kiyoomi had never given him any reason to think he liked him, sure he wasn’t very friendly but he never was with anyone other than Motoya. And now Kiyoomi was comforting him on the floor of the empty gym, telling him that he was important?

“I don’t need your pity!” (Y/N) slapped his hand away and scrambled back. “Stop trying to make me feel better by lying to me!” Now Kiyoomi was shocked.

“Why would I lie!” He shot back.

“I don’t know? You tell me.” (Y/N) scrubbed his face with the back of his hand. “I’m not some stupid pet for you to play with.” (Y/N) panted, more tears welling in his eyes, now clutching his still aching shoulder.

“If you don’t want to believe me then fine! Just go home and rest. I’ll clean up here.” Kiyoomi got up without another word and started collecting the volleyballs that littered the court. (Y/N) jumped to his feet in shock.

“No! This is my mess! You go home!” Their eyes met, Kiyoomi’s calm and (Y/N)’s still teary.

“You can help if you want, but I’ve already made up my mind.” He turned back to the ball he was just about to pick up before their outburst, adjusting his mask while he bent down to get it, making (Y/N) pout and muttering a “whatever” before moving to help clean.

“Did you mean it? That I was important to you?” They both stopped at (Y/N)’s question. He still refused to make eye contact, focusing on the volleyball in his hands. “‘Cause it’d be kinda fucked if you didn’t.”

“When have I ever said something I don’t mean?” Kiyoomi stated back, walking back towards (Y/N).

“How am I supposed to know, it’s not like we talk, like, ever.” It was now Kiyoomi’s turn to flush in embarrassment.

“Well, I-” (Y/N) watched him sputter and blush behind his mask out of the corner of his eyes. “I don’t say stuff I don’t mean!” Kiyoomi stamps his foot to emphasize his point. Kiyoomi tucked his chin into the collar of his jacket, blushing deeper when he noticed (Y/N) watching him.

“Sorry, guess ‘m just not used to stuff like this.” (Y/N) said, pursing his lips, before stifling a yawn.

He started taking down the net, lifting the pole from the ground and carrying it to the supply closet. After he sat by the door, rooting through his bag for his other shoes, watching Kiyoomi hover a few feet away.

“If you wanted help practicing you could have asked. In fact I’d be happy to help you improve your serves. Your form is all wrong. I could show you how to fix it after practice tomorrow.”

“Would you?” (Y/N) turned to sit up on his knees, staring up at Kiyoomi, shoes now forgotten.

“I guess, if it meant I got to know you better.” Kiyoomi’s blush darkened as he messed with his zipper. “I said you were important to me, didn't I?” He looked away with a huff.

“Yeah I guess you did.” (Y/N) laughed, turning back to his shoes. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then, Kiyoomi. I can’t thank you enough!”

(Y/N) grabbed his duffle bag and scampered out of the gym without another word, quick to hide his hot face from his team mate, aching shoulder now forgotten. He stopped when he rounded the nearest corner, pressing his back against the wall with a giddy smile.

I’m important to him.

In the gym Kiyoomi stood where (Y/N) had left him, with a matching giddy smile face hidden behind his mask.

We’re training together tomorrow! Just us!

At least he assumed it did. There were no remedial classes at Aoba Johsai, but there were classes for students who didn’t do as well as they should be, and that’s where both of them had ended up for their highschool careers. Kyotani was there because he didn’t care. He did what he needed to in order to pass and still be able to play volleyball but that was it. He saw no real reason to try, even after so many teachers had lectured him on all the potential they knew he had. (Y/N) on the other hand really was trying their best. Don’t ask him how he knows, because Kyotani sure as hell doesn’t know, but he had heard somewhere that (Y/N) had moved from America in middle school and that supposedly was why they did so poorly.

The teacher was passing back tests that day. Kyotani had gotten his back already, middle of the road score just as he had expected, and for some reason he kept his sharp brown eyes trained on the broad shoulders of the weight trainer as the teacher approached his desk. The test in the teachers hand was flipped upside down, hiding the score, but the way his shoulders slumped when the page was flipped over was telling enough of his grade. Kyotani almost felt bad for him. The only class Kyotani had never seen that slump in was math, surprisingly. Not that he wasn’t paying attention to him. Kyotani wasn’t all that surprised when he was held back when the class was released for lunch, it happened just about every time a test was handed back. But it was the first time anyone else lingered in the room with them. Leaning against one of the desks in the front row, with his bag heavy off one shoulder, once again Kyotani was watching (Y/N) out of the corner of his eyes. (Y/N) noticed him as they shuffled up to the front of the room, test in hand, and gave him a smile. Every time he saw that smile he got that same sick to his stomach feeling that Kyotani knew could only be hate. Because what else could it mean when your stomach does flips at the sight of someone acknowledging your existence. Even if it was so much different from the normal hate he felt when someone bumped into him or when Oikawa would open his stupid mouth. “Um, ma’am.” (Y/N)’s voice broke him from his thoughts, he stood in front of Kyotani, broad back blocking his view of their teacher. “I’m not sure why i got this grade?” He still stumbled over his Japanese, and Kyotani could almost see the embarrassment creeping up his neck. Kyotani didn’t bother listening to what the teacher was telling him, deciding after a moment to stand up and make his way out of the classroom to get out of his upcoming lecture. “-Kyotani, don’t think that because I’m helping someone else I’ve forgotten about you.” His teacher’s voice stopped him in his tracks, deepening his scowl as he spun on his heel. “I know you understand what we’ve been learning because I also grade your classwork, so I’m giving you two options. You can tutor (Y/N), or I can get you kicked out of the volleyball club.” “What.” The edges of his vision were going red, but his teacher paid him no mind, just pulling out a stack of papers from a drawer. (Y/N) on the other hand had lost the color in their face. “I don’t wanna- I mean he doesn’t-” They were sputtering out words, hands clenching tight around the test they held. “Do you need time to think about this Kyotani?” The teacher made no move to comfort the sputtering student in front of them, just keeping stern eyes on the blond boy. “You can do your study sessions right here at lunch, so that it won’t be interfering with your practice.” “Fine.” Kyotani stomped back to his seat in the back of the classroom, throwing his bag onto the ground next to him, glaring expectantly at the boy who still stood at the front of the class. (Y/N) scrambled to take one of the seats near him, wincing when they hit the corner of one of the desks on their way. “I’m sorry.” (Y/N) mumbled, still staring down at the now crumpled test in their hands. “What?” Kyotani thought he didn’t hear him right, after all why would he be apologizing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen when I went to ask for help today. I know- I know you don’t really like me.” His shoulders slumped even further into his body, somehow making the large boy look tiny. Kyotani could feel his ears start to heat up and he felt bad, he didn’t like seeing the normally happy guy so upset, and he really didn’t like knowing that it was partially his fault. “Whatever. Show me your test, let me see what you got wrong.” He held out a hand expectantly without looking at (Y/N), not wanting to risk any sort of eye contact. “Yeah, yeah right. Here you go.” The half crumpled test was placed in his hand and he brought it close to his face to read. “It’s not that bad of a grade y’know.” Kyotani growled after a few moments of looking over the test. “At least not bad enough for you to get that mopey about it.” “I know it’s not that bad, but I really did try this time.” He took the test back and settled it back into his lap. “I just don’t understand why I can’t get it right, y’know?” He did know, there were so many aspects of his life that he could never understand why he couldn’t get right. “Yeah whatever, show me your notes.” He actually looked at them this time, they had definitely calmed down, but they looked like a kicked puppy while they rummaged through their bag to find the binder for that class. They handed over the binder after sticking the test in the front pocket, staring down at their feet. The notes were rushed, a mix of japanese and english, whole sentences scribbled out despite being written in pencil. “The lectures move a little too fast and I forget words sometimes. I was never good at spelling to begin with anyways.” Kyotani hadn’t realized just how confused he had let his face become until the other boy offered the meek explanation. “I guess we should start with redoing your notes then. Make them actually coherent.” Damn it. Kyotani didn’t even mean for it to come out that mean this time. He gave the binder back without another word.

They worked in near silence. Most of the work was just (Y/N) rewriting his notes onto a new piece of paper, Kyotani trying only to give hints when he stopped writing, stumped on a translation or a missing piece of information. They both had pulled out their lunches, eating while (Y/N) worked The bell rang sooner than they thought it would, startling both of them out of their concentration. “Um, thanks. For helping me. I mean I know you didn’t have a choice but I really do appreciate it.” (Y/N) packed up his things quickly, throwing Kyotani quick glances to his face as he did so. “Give me your phone.” His usual scowl was back on his face without meaning it, and his hand was right in front of his face. “In case you need help. While you’re doing homework I mean. You could call me or something as long as I’m not in practice.” (Y/N) gave him a quiet “oh yeah” and fished out their phone, opening a new contact before handing it to the blond boy. “You shouldn’t have to worry about me calling during your practice, I normally work out pretty late anyways.” “Fine, you should get to your seat.” With the phone back in (Y/N)’s hands, Kyotani slumped back into his chair, signaling the conversation as over.

The small group had finished their cardio workout, now they sat in a scattered group around the weight room stretching. (Y/N) had been doing this for three years, he knew the routine by heart and could do it without thinking. And it’s a good thing he could, because he was lost in thought about his new tutor. (Y/N) knew Kyotani’s reputation, he was aggressive and didn’t like to talk to anyone, but that didn’t explain why (Y/N) could feel his glare digging into the back of their head during every class. Their head was still very much occupied by thoughts of the blond volleyball play while the coach called out different core exercises for the club. Why is it that it seemed like every time (Y/N) made progress with him, Kyotani would say something mean out of nowhere. A hand glanced off the back of his head, one of his friends was motioning to where the coach was gathering all the club members for announcements. He nodded back, jumping to his feet and jogging over to the group to listen. “We have an event this weekend, so you all know the drill. Save your strength but still work hard, get plenty of rest every night.” The coach paused, letting the group of students give a collective “Yes Sir!”, before flipping through papers on his clipboard. “Next up, we’re sharing the weight room today. The boys volleyball team is on their way, treat them with respect and give them their space.” Right on cue, the boys volleyball team filed in through the open door, (Y/N)’s blond tutor at the end of the line, scowling. He quickly tore his eyes from the volleyball team, standing up and letting his friend jump into him and push him towards the station they used, laughing along the way.

(Y/N) laughed with his friend as he stood over him, ready to catch the bar if he maxed out earlier than expected, trying to ignore the prickling on the back of their neck. “That mean blond kid has been staring at you for a while. Kinda weird huh?” His friend sat up after putting the bar back, looking back with a teasing smile. “He’s the one I told you about, the one I spent lunch with today.” (Y/N) leaned against the bar, throwing quick glances towards Kyotani as they added weights to the bar. “Now c’mon switch with me.” “Wouldn’t think looking at him that he would be able to help anyone.” His friend laughed, moving off the bench. “He’s got shit form too.” “He’s really helpful, even if I think he hates me.” (Y/N) started to get defensive, picking up the bar with a blush. “Count for me please?” “Yeah, I know you lose count. What’re you going to?” “Three sets of 15, I’m going a little lighter than normal.” “Cool, start now.”

“Jeez, he’s still staring, what's his issue?” They both sat on the bench taking a water break. “I told you, he hates me. Especially now that he has to spend his lunches teaching me or the teacher said she’d get him kicked off the team.” (Y/N) took another swig from their water bottle. “Well that’s not your fault.” “I mean if I were smarter.” “Oh shut up.” He playfully shoved (Y/N). “And I saw that blush. You think he’s cute.” “Whatever I think of him doesn’t matter because he very visibly doesn’t like me. I told him I knew he didn’t like me and he just said, ‘whatever’.” “Well he seems kind of stupid from what I’ve heard, like emotionally, y’know. So did you see his face? Maybe he just didn’t know what to say.” “No, I didn’t see his face, I was too busy looking down in shame about having to hand over my failed test to a guy I like.” “So you admit it!” (Y/N)’s eyes had widened in realization, dropping his head into his hands, face burning in embarrassment. “Don’t be so loud about it.” Before his friend could continue to make fun of him their coach clapped his hands loudly and called for his students attention. “Clean up your stations everyone, it’s just about time to leave.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” (Y/N) said as they split up at the gates of the school. “Well not till after school, right lover boy! Gotta spend lunch with your handsome new tutor!” (Y/N)’s friend was cackling, pushing on his shoulder. “Not so loud, I don’t need the entire school to hear you. And again, it’s not like he likes me back.” (Y/N) adjusted his bag to avoid letting his friend see his flushed face. Unbeknownst to the two boys, the other half of the teasing was stopped, shocked right inside the gate of the school, just out of sight. Lover boy? Handsome new tutor? Was Kyotani really that stupid that he had completely mistook the butterflies in his stomach and the near constant blush that had taken residency in his ears and cheeks for hatred? “I mean he was staring at you the whole time we were working out, that doesn’t really seem like hatred.” The other voice laughed again. Was Kyotani really that obvious that both of them could tell? Had his friends been able to tell? Kyotani turned the corner quickly, watching (Y/N)’s friend turn down a street with a wave. “Hey!” Kyotani watched him jump at his shout, whirling around to stare in fear at the glowering volleyball player. “Wh-what’s up, Kyotani. Did you need something.” (Y/N) avoided eye contact, staring right above his head. What if Kyotani had heard his friend? What if Kyotani was going to force him to go tell the teacher that he didn’t want his help anymore? He started to shake a little, his mind spiraling out of control in every worst case scenario he could think of. “Is it true.” Kyotani started walking towards him, stopping short a few feet from him. “Is what true?” (Y/N) stumbled back, hands clenching into the front of his shirt, wringing the fabric. “Don’t play stupid! I know you aren’t dumb! And you and your friend also aren’t quiet.” (Y/N)’s eyes started getting glassy and he quickly moved his gaze to the shrinking space on the concrete between them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The quiver in his voice made Kyotani stop in his tracks. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. “Look. I’m not- I’m not good at this. I just, I don’t know if what I think I’m feeling is right or not.” He was glaring directly at his face, willing him to meet his eyes. “What does that mean?” (Y/N) still refused to meet his eyes, still tugging on his shirt eyes now focusing on a crack in the wall next to them. “It means I did think I hated you. Because every time you smiled at me my stomach would twist up. Whenever you would laugh my face heated up. You make my heart race in a way I’ve never felt before and I didn’t know what it meant.” Kyotani got a little loud in the end, and he hated seeing (Y/N) flinch at his volume. “Do you know what it means now?” Kyotani almost didn’t hear what they mumbled. “I think so.” “Then what does it mean.” (Y/N) finally made eye contact with Kyotani, jaw set and eyebrows furrowed. “That I don’t hate you, I like you. A lot. And I don’t understand it very much, but I’d like to figure it out if you want to help me, I’d like that.” Now Kyotani was avoiding eye contact. “I think I’d like that.” (Y/N) took a few hesitant steps forward, standing toe to toe with the flustered blond. “If you’re free on saturday you could come to my event. And I’m free on sunday, but I might be a little tired.” Kyotani met their eyes again, looking shocked. He flushed darker when he processed how close (Y/N) was to him but nodded. “Yeah well, you have my phone number. I have to go home. Bye.” He turned away quickly, speed walking away towards his own home, leaving (Y/N) behind laughing. “Bye! I’ll text you later!” They waved to his retreating form, smiling wider when he threw up a quick wave. When he turned a corner, they spun on their heels and kept going on their way home with a giddy smile.

Hunter could see it in the way they hunched over the small table, pressed into the farthest corner, practically shaking in restraint. The signs of overstimulation that Hunter was all too familiar with. Something crashed in the cockpit and they jerked harshly into themself, leg bouncing so hard that it shook the table.

Their skin prickled from the feeling of Hunter watching them from the corner of his eyes, and Crosshair’s offended shout was the last straw, sending their fist into the table top with a snarl of pain and frustration. They realized their mistake as soon as the side of their hand made contact with the metal and they could almost hear the crack of a bone breaking. Their neck burned in shame when Hunter fully turned toward them, looking as if he were going to come over to them. Carefully sliding their pulsing hand into their chest from the dent it had made in the table top, they quickly got to their feet and left for their bed.

So focused on keeping their breathing level and their feet steady, they forgot that Hunter was still in the room in the few seconds it took to make their way to the hallway. So Hunter’s quiet hand on their shoulder, stopping them from walking any further into the hallway, they spun a surprised punch towards his face. Hunter caught it in his hand easily, giving them an apologetic look at the pained whine they released when he squeezed it lightly.

“Come with me and let me look at this.” He kept his voice low for them, shifting his hand lower on their forearm to take the pressure off their hand. They hung their head with a nod, stepping back to let him go first. “It’s a lot quieter in my room.” He whispered as he passed them, walking to the converted storage closet that he slept in. Their hand throbbed in pain as they followed after him, making them stumble before catching themself on the wall.

Hunter’s “room” was a small, most of the floor space taken up by his bed with a thin walkway around the bottom and one side. Shelves above it held his helmet and guns with room to spare, obviously for the rest of his armor. He kneeled down at the side of his bed, pointing to a spot for them to sit before disappearing to reach into the small space beneath.

When he emerged with a medkit they still stood in the open doorway, cradling their now swollen hand, and he sighed at the sight.

“Come over and sit down, it’s fine I promise.” They took wary steps over to him, perching on the very edge of the bed. “I’m not mad at you, if that’s what's got you so upset. If you saw how many dents are in the bottom of the table from Wrecker kneeing it, you’d laugh at your dent.”

Hunter reached over slowly, stopping a few inches from them to let them give him their hand. They set their wrist into his open hand, still looking down at their boots, fighting the urge to tug at their hair or pull on their shirt. If Hunter noticed their anxiety, he didn’t mention it, just scanned their hand to assess the damage before placing a Bacta patch on their palm and one on the back of their hand, then wrapping their whole hand in thick tape.

“If you’re feeling overstimulated that’s okay, but we won’t know if you don’t tell us.” He reached for their other hand, dropping anti-inflammatories into their palm. “And if we don’t know we can’t help you.” They looked down to the pills in their hand before nodding ever so slightly, just enough to let Hunter know they heard him.

They popped the pills into their mouth, throwing their head back to swallow, before slowly rising to their feet. However, before they could take a step, Hunter’s careful hand was on their arm.

“You can rest in here if you want, it’s quieter than your bunk will be. I know how sound travels through the ship.” When their eyes meet his, they can see no pity just a soft understanding, and that’s what makes them agree they tell themself as they crawl past him onto the stiff bed. Not the thought of getting to sleep surrounded by his smell. Definitely not.

They looked down when Hunter knocked on the sole of their boots, which hung off the end of the bed.

“You don’t have to worry about putting your boots on the bed if you don’t want to take them off. I’m gonna go get your pillow to keep your hand elevated. I'll be back in a minute.” They gave him a tired nod, waiting for him to stand and leave before they scooted their legs tighter under them so their feet no longer hung off the end of the bed.

They rested their head on their arm, keeping away from Hunter’s pillow. As happy as being in Hunter’s bed made them, they were still nervous, expecting to be kicked out at the slightest mistake.

They tried to rest their broken hand against their bent legs as best they could as they closed their eyes, trying to relax into sleep, but gave up when it slid to the bed the third time.