#jntshennanigans

One too many shots in, Atsumu reveals one of his useless talents is tying a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue—a seemingly innocuous confession requited with low chuckles and curious hums.

Yaku licks his lips slowly, mischief flickering in his eyes.

Bokuto pauses mid-sentence, his mouth left hanging open for a few seconds before finally closing, then he visibly gulps.

Kageyama and Hinata exchange knowing glances at each other, a silent understanding shared between longtime partners.

Ushijima maintains a stern facade, but hidden from view, his leg starts bouncing as if a tribute to a dormant urge suddenly awakened without warning.

Aran gleams, a Cheshire grin across his handsome face. “Ya sure can,” he remarks with a smug look as he ruffles Atsumu’s hair.

Suna downs his shochu in one guzzle, cheeks heating up as if recalling a not-so-distant memory rather than from the alcohol.

Sakusa shortly excuses himself from the table to return to his room ahead of everyone else. He doesn’t get much sleep that night. (And he’s had to shower twice… for reasons too shameful to admit out loud.)

Hoshiumi begrudgingly ushers Gao to the restroom to wash the drool off his face.

On days nearing their cycles, it’s not just the setters showing signs of pre-heat, their alpha and beta teammates manifest symptoms too.

Team trainer Iwaizumi insists he’d do their nail care routine for them before practice then treat them with a deep massage after.

Captain Ushijima maintains his usual calm aplomb but will silently hover around the two omegas wherever they go, staying on guard and letting his mere presence serve as a warning (threat) to anyone who dares make their approach.

Vice captain Bokuto scents their omegas to ward off unwanted lurkers, shooting sharp glares at strangers who look their way with veiled intentions. (Fans call it his ‘dark mode’)

Komori and Hinata are the designated collectors who gather everyone’s used clothes—the stronger the stench, the better—and pile them on a vacant bed which they use as a staging area. (The omegas get the final pick which pieces of clothing end up in their nests, of course)

Suna and Aran who normally initiate banter at Atsumu’s expense turn defensive and switch on protective mode, quick to throw hands at anyone making jokes about Atsumu.

Hoshiumi and Yaku alternate sending Gao and Hakuba to run errands and buy treats from specialty stores.

Sakusa becomes more sensitive to pheromones, persistently ridding any foreign scent from the two—especially with Atsumu.

Atsumu tends to self-isolate when he’s despondent or deeply distressed. Perhaps it’s precisely because of the fact that had he’s developed his… jinx.

Some foreign player hears about the infamous reputation of the Miya twins in high school and half jokes about Osamu quitting volleyball because he can’t stand his twin, an old classic jab Atsumu has heard too many times before, really, so Atsumu shrugs it off as usual with a forced laugh and an insincere retort.

They go along their merry way and guzzle up drinks with team they had annihilated on court for a practice earlier, the low blow long forgotten by everyone but the person slighted albeit the amount of alcohol consumed until dawn.

The next morning, a loud shrill awakens the entire floor, eleven volleyball players gather towards the commotion.

Hina: c’mon just a hint, Tsumu-san!!!!!!

Atsu: 😋

Suna: @/OjiroAce you know, don’t you?

Atsu: Aran-kun, shh!!!

Aran: sigh… something white, like a dress

Bo: GASP

Bo: Tsum-Tsum as a bowling pin part 2??

Gao: angel Atsumu, save me 🙏

Ushi: a sexy ghost?

Omi: bunny maid Atsu…

Iwa: damn Sakusa, can’t pick just one huh?

Iwa: agree

Kags: Atsumu-san will be a pretty fairy

Hina: fairies don’t wear white dresses, Bakayama!

Kags: they can if Atsumu-san wants to, boke!

Yaku: wanna be my bride, Miya?

Omi: 🤺

[Ojiro Aran has muted the chat]

On cue, Sakusa emerges from the back of the line and approaches the trainer, appreciating the way his teammates make space for him to pass through.

“Huh, Sakusa? Who’s Sakusa? Omi-kun is Omi-” Atsumu clamors, genuinely perplexed, like the name he has heard is half familiar and half a mystery.

Aran chides him with a firm whack on the back (which Suna is quick to catch in his phone), and the rest of the team watch mirthfully while holding their laughters.

When Sakusa has accepted his kit, he marches back to his spot but not before purposefully passing in front of the flustered blonde and leaning in to whisper: “Calm down, baby. It’s just me,” he can’t help but tease. Then, in a hushed, breathy, low voice usually reserved for the confines of their bedroom, he promises, “One day, I’ll make sure the back of your jersey spells the same name too.”