#kiyoomi

there’s a folder in sakusa’s notes app titled drafts.

it looks boring at first glance—just another folder among the other plain, lowercase ones:

practice schedule

laundry list

groceries (motoya stop eating my yogurt)

but click it open and there’s a different kind of disaster.

forty. forty unsent messages to you.

one says,

“i’d die if you smiled at someone else like that.”

another just says,

“you looked nice today.”

and the last one—just your name, like he typed it out just to see what it looked like next to his cursor.

he rereads them every night. deleting nothing. not even the typos.

it’s kind of tragic, if you think about it—how this six-foot wall of volleyball perfection spends his evenings whispering digital love letters to the void (the void being the ‘you’ who keeps replying “ok 👍” to his texts about the practice schedules).

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

komori finds out first, of course. he has eyes everywhere, especially at the mcdonalds discount for chicken nuggets.

“bro, what’s this?” he snorts, leaning over sakusa’s shoulder mid-bus ride home, snatching his phone faster than sakusa can scowl.

“don’t—”

too late. komori’s already giggling like he just found out santa’s real. “oh my god, kiyoomi. forty?”

“give it back.”

“forty drafts? bro. these are—holy crap, these are POEMS. why are you writing like you’re about to drop a heartbreak album?”

sakusa’s ears turn red. “they’re not poems.”

“‘i wish i was the hoodie she’s wearing— to feel her warmth without asking, to hold her close without speaking, to catch her sighs and call it breathing.’”

komori reads out loud. “if this isn’t a poem, i don’t know what is.”

he glares. “motoya.”

but komori just grins, shaking his head in pure disbelief. “no no, you’re in love. like, terminally. i’m calling iizuna.”

and because komori has no sense of self-preservation, ten minutes later iizuna’s reading the same draft with an amused, too-knowing smile.

“you wrote ‘if she ever gets cold i’ll kill the wind.’” iizuna looks up. “kill the wind, kiyoomi?”

“i was tired.”

“you’re dramatic.”

“shut up.”

“you’re in love.”

and sakusa, despite himself, glances out the window. watches the sky blur past like it’s trying to outrun him.

quietly, barely audible, he mumbles, “yeah. i guess i am.”

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

he didn’t mean to fall for you.

you’re… soft, somehow. in the kind of way that makes him feel like his chest is a too-small box and you’re the light spilling out of it.

you laugh too loud at komori’s jokes. you tuck stray hairs behind your ear without noticing him staring. you smell like something clean and nostalgic—like powdered sugar and early mornings.

you don’t notice him much, not like that.

you text him for notes sometimes.

you thank him after practice when he helps you carry boxes for the team.

you once said “you’re nice when you want to be,” and it made him forget how to breathe for three whole seconds.

and that’s it. that’s all it took.

now he’s the kind of person who types things like,

“you smiled at me today. i pretended not to notice because i think if i did i’d forget how to walk.”

and never sends them.

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

it happens by accident—how you find out, almost.

it’s late. gym’s empty except for you two. you stayed behind to help tidy up, and he stayed because “i don’t trust motoya with the mop.” (in which, fair.)

he sets his phone on the bench. you’re sweeping when it buzzes, screen lighting up with a notification:

drafts — last edited 1 min ago.

you glance, teasing, “you journaling or something?”

he freezes. visibly.

“no.”

“oh?” you grin. “sounds like a yes.”

“it’s not.”

“so if i look—”

he steps forward so fast you nearly drop the broom.

“don’t.”

his voice isn’t angry—it’s desperate, raw, like you’ve threatened to read his heartbeat aloud.

and that’s when you realize it’s something real. not a joke, not a to-do list. something that could crumble him if you saw too much.

but you soften, smiling a little. “alright, i won’t.”

you don’t.

you go back to sweeping, humming quietly, pretending like the silence isn’t dripping with everything unspoken.

he stares at you like he’s trying to memorize the outline of your shadow.

and later, when you leave, he writes another one:

“she promised not to look. i think that’s the first time someone’s ever protected something of mine without knowing what it was.”

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

the next day, komori is still trying to convince him to just say something.

“dude. you’re dying over there.”

“i’m fine.”

“you’re not fine. you looked at her for five minutes straight and almost walked into a vending machine.”

“that’s because you distracted me.”

“kiyoomi. please. she’s literally the only person you let talk to you before 9 a.m. that means something.”

“it means i tolerate her.”

“you tolerate her so hard you write essays about her smile.”

sakusa sighs. “motoya, i will—”

“—kill the wind? yeah, i read that one.”

he throws a towel at him. komori dodges, laughing so hard he almost trips over the bench.

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

you’re walking out of practice together, both holding water bottles, talking about nothing—your favorite way to talk.

you tell him about how your phone storage is full because you keep forgetting to delete old notes.

“me too,” he says, without thinking.

you smile. “really? what kind of notes do you even have?”

and he should lie. he should. but something about the way your eyes meet his—bright, curious, open—makes the truth spill out before he can stop it.

“you.”

you blink. “me?”

“yeah.”

there’s silence. then a small, surprised laugh slips from you. “i—what does that mean?”

“it means…” he exhales, runs a hand through his hair, eyes darting anywhere but yours. “i write about you. things i can’t say out loud.”

you don’t tease. you don’t laugh again. you just tilt your head, smile soft. “that’s actually really sweet, kiyoomi.”

he looks at you like you just told him gravity doesn’t apply to him anymore. “sweet?”

“yeah. i mean—i write about you too. just not in my notes app.”

he freezes. “you… what?”

you grin, walking backward as you talk. “i draw. sometimes. i doodle people i like.”

his brain promptly forgets how to function. “people… you like.”

“yep.” you give him a look so gentle he thinks he might combust. “you’re my favorite one to draw.”

he stands there, completely still, like a computer blue-screening.

and later that night, there’s another draft.

“she said i’m her favorite. i think my heart’s trying to jailbreak out of my chest.”

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

after that, things change.

not dramatically—no fireworks, no big confessions. just… quiet shifts.

he lets you tie his mask strings when they get tangled.

you save him the last lemon drink from the vending machine.

he starts walking you home without saying he is.

komori catches him once, texting under the table, smirking. “writing her another note?”

“no.”

“then why are you smiling?”

“because she just said goodnight.”

“bro, that’s… wow. you’re gone.”

he doesn’t even deny it. just shrugs, cheeks pink.

and the next morning, a new note appears in drafts:

“if loving her this quietly is all i get, i’ll let my pulse speak for me— it already says her name.”

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

you finally see the folder one day—not by accident this time, but because he lets you.

he hands you his phone, careful, shy. “here. you can read them.”

you blink, startled. “are you sure?”

he nods.

and so you do.

one by one.

forty little pieces of him—some silly, some tender, some heartbreakingly sincere.

“her laugh could make a funeral feel like a sunrise— grief would forget its name, and even the dead would turn just to see who made the light sound like that.”

“she borrowed my hoodie today— it hangs on her like sunlight on silk, the moon wearing my favorite cloud.”

“i’m trying not to love her too loud— even echoes feel dangerous, when her name sounds like home.”

when you’re done, you look up at him. he’s tense, fingers fidgeting.

“kiyoomi,” you say softly, smiling like you can’t help it. “you’re unbelievable.”

his eyes flick to yours. “in a bad way?”

“in the kind of way that makes me want to kiss you.”

the look on his face could make angels jealous.

you laugh, reaching up to cup his cheek. “can i?”

he doesn’t answer—just leans in.

and when your lips meet, soft and warm and unbearably real, he swears the air tastes like the word finally.

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

that night, he opens his notes app again.

he doesn’t start a new draft.

instead, he edits the last one.

“you read them all, then kissed me— every word i never said found its way to your lips.”

and for the first time ever—

he hits send.

♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

a: my shitty relationship is taking a big toll on me 🤞🏻

<taglist>

@the-bloopsters @nelinkythoughts @kukikoooo @sleepykeijiii @averys-place @sxnnee @anzuuhoshi @evilari111 @rabbitcola @whimsybloom @yeonette @forgottensniper @katzline @michexoxo @pelicanpizza @han0vyc @george-russell-defender @meikstv @babybird-meena @depressinglyobsessed @ghostwifeyy @bigdaddyyaoii @perpetuallydone @qardasngan @crystal-lilac @methiart @chikuwasushii @wensurr @alyriaschoenheit

© showhay — don’t copy nor translate without my permission. i do not own any of the photos that i have used. credits to all the rightful owners. (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

Sakusa clicked his tongue and pressed light taps on his guitar. He was supposed to be trying to add on to the new song Suna had composed, but he was getting distracted by thoughts of you. Again. You seemed to be running in his mind constantly. This was no good. He can’t focus. At the corner of his eye, he caught the blue dahlias he placed in a vase on his countertop, another reminder of you.

Has it been two years already since you confessed that what you felt toward him was more than just simple friendship? Since then, you’ve only become more persistent through your ceaseless gifts and trying to spend time with him when you can. Part of it was his fault. He knew that. Since he could hardly say no to you, at least, not sincerely. What was wrong with him?

He had always known you had a stubborn streak despite your meek nature (to Sakusa, you were the gentlest person he had ever known who could do no harm). Sakusa had hoped you would get back to your senses and get rid of your supposed feelings for him, he didn’t think he did anything special to warrant your precious affection. Maybe that was why he was suddenly becoming hyper-aware around you. Sometimes it felt like he could clearly hear the thumping of his heart. He was worried. Yes. It was a worry, he convinced himself—that you were wasting these years trying to pursue him. Worry that you would regret not exploring your options early because you were so fixated on him.

He stared at his phone beside the vase. It was odd not to receive the familiar ping signifying a text from you. Usually, at this hour, you would send a random update about your day that Sakusa would find amusing. It’s already been three whole weeks since you last texted him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had no contact with you for such a long period of time. Sakusa shook his head. This was good. You were keeping some distance from him. But why did Sakusa feel so uneasy?

It was probably the same reason he found himself in this situation another month later—a month of your deafening silence, he’d like to emphasize—leaned over at the passenger seat of his car where you sat, his hand on your cheek, a light caress on your soft skin as he reassured you of how beautiful you were. None of it would be a lie, a stretch, or something said to be comforting. It was the truth. Sakusa thought you were beautiful, looking up at him with those expressive eyes of yours. Those who currently held an insecurity in them that Sakusa wanted to diminish, it was then and there that Sakusa thought the day you lose the sparkle in your gaze would be the day the world ended.

“I, uhm, o-okay?” you stutter in a way that Sakusa found endearing. Your mouth was hung open, and your eyes were dazed in shock. Sakusa took in your expression, trying to read you, this becoming a secret habit of his. His chest suddenly feels strained.

“I’m only looking out for you,” Sakusa didn’t know how he let out a coherent reply. He found himself creating lazy motions on your cheek with his thumb, using the hand that cupped your face. He watches as you nibble on your lower lip, and his eyes flicker back up to meet your gaze once more because staring at your lips too intently was dangerous.

“But…” you start again, and to Sakusa, your voice felt like a trap he’d willingly walk into, “I like you… so much,” your eyes turn downcast, but you're still brave enough to meet his eyes from under your lashes. You were so pretty.

This was killing him.

Sakusa didn’t know what possessed him at the moment.

As if entranced, he tilted your head so that he could give you a light peck on the cheek. It was just a peck, nothing much—was what he reasoned with. There was something seriously wrong with him.

He surprised himself. Admitting to himself a possibility he kept denying.

Sakusa stepped out of the car, cursing low enough so you wouldn’t hear.

Fuck.

He might be in love with you.

That was bad. That was very, very bad.

With this realization, he came up with the only possible and rational decision to proceed with. Completely ignore his feelings, stomp and bury them in the ground until they disappear. Because he can not be in love with you, he wasn’t allowed to be in love with you. Simply because he did not deserve you. He knew it. Atsumu knew it. Everyone except you knew it. You were always the only exception, of course. Was it unfair for him to decide this in an ultimatum without your opinion? Yes, he admits that it is, but Sakusa was—undeniably—scared. You have always been brave and headstrong about your feelings. Meanwhile, he was a complete coward. So he would push down these feelings and pray they’re fleeting. 

Sakusa felt like he was in a constant war with himself.

“What do you think is a good ‘I’m sorry’ gift?” Atsumu asks from his position on Sakusa’s couch, invasive and unforeseen. He crashed Sakusa’s living space on a random Saturday, a non-work, supposed rest day, simply because he needed advice on his urgent problems. Urgent problems mean a useless tirade. Harsh, but necessary, since Atsumu was the one who dug his own hole in the first place, per usual.

“I don’t know who this person you’re talking about is,” Sakusa leans at his counter, arms crossed, “But they’re likely a girl you’ve been going out with. Who is it this time?” Sakusa had always been involved with Atsumu’s dating history, unfortunately. Even though he wasn’t a present player in the dating scene, nor did he have much interest in anyone. Until you. Fuck. Wrong train of thought. “Just go buy her flowers or something,” his statement came out more agitated than what fit the situation.

“Funny, you and [name] said the same thing,” Sakusa flinches at Atsumu’s mention of you, awful timing on Atsumu’s part. Good thing Atsumu was too preoccupied with his urgent problem to notice, fiddling with his drumsticks, “But no, no. This isn’t a romantic thing. It’s for a friend.”

“Is this the friend?” Sakusa tilts his head, with full emphasis and intention to probe. Thinking of only one person Atsumu would be this foolish around.

“The friend?” Atsumu sits up, eyes blown out and defensive, reacting as Sakusa expected, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ms. Sweets,” Sakusa raises a brow, dragging the nickname of the person Atsumu calls fondly.

“Yeah, it is sweets, but what’s this whole aura thing going on with you saying her nickname. She’s just a friend,” Atsumu said in a rush.

Sakusa sighed, knowing this would go nowhere, “Just apologize and treat her to dinner for whatever you did. What did you do?”

“Nothing, really,” Atsumu shrugs. Knowing him, he probably thinks whatever he did was rightly justified and, therefore, not really a problem.

“What did she say you did?” Sakusa asks, sure that Atsumu was definitely in the wrong.

“Cockblock her. But to be fair, that guy really wasn’t worth her time.” And there it is, Sakusa gives himself a mental pat on the back for being right.

“Friend, huh?” Sakusa mocks.

“Yes, friend. I’m not just going to let her date any guy,” Atsumu says, scratching the back of his neck.

“Do you hear yourself? That’s not your choice to make, Atsumu,” Sakusa then heard himself just then, too. Thinking he should be following the same advice. Maybe he was a hypocrite. Okay, yeah, he was a hypocrite, but he wasn’t done berating Atsumu, “You’re not her Dad.” “I’m definitely not her Dad. He’s just—That guy was just—I swear—Not it—” Atsumu didn’t get to finish his incoherent string of words.

“And what gives you the right to decide?” Sakusa asked Atsumu. And inside, he asked himself that same question. “I have no right,” Atsumu admits, “But fuck that, I’ll meddle anyway,” he says, shameless, falling comfortably on the couch.

This careless, self-assured, I’ll-do-whatever-I-want attitude reminded Sakusa of you. It was probably a genetic trait. He was met with the sudden urge to see you. You had texted him earlier that day—going back to your usual routine after that lapse during winter break, to Sakusa’s relief, of course (he hated himself)—sending a picture of you highlighting your breakfast, but Sakusa stayed staring at the pout you posed, eyes wide and energetic compared to the lull of usual mornings. Sakusa had sent a picture back of his morning coffee and a straight-laced expression because he didn’t know how to take regular selfies.

Sakusa thinks he was becoming a little obsessed with you. As much as he was trying to resist his feelings for you, he wasn’t doing a very good job at it.

It was around 1:00 AM, he had just come back from a meeting with the record label, and the first thing he did after showering and lying on his bed was not getting his much-needed sleep, no. He opened his phone and scrolled through your fan account for him, wanting to see what thoughts of yours you decided to share online. He didn’t have an account on that application before, unlike Suna and Atsumu. He had always known of the existence of your fan account dedicated to him through his cousin and assistant Rika, but it crossed his mind randomly a week ago, and he was too curious not to want to keep up with your thoughts that you don’t message him directly about. So he had been keeping up with your posts, notifications on and everything, never interacting, just lingering.

[name]┃kiyo’s future wife (real) @kiyominiscient I’ve never needed a win as much as I do right now (i need to see kiyo’s pretty face) 1:18 AM · May 17, 20XX

Sakusa felt a flush rush to his cheeks from your most recent post. Posted only a few minutes ago. You were still thinking about him this late in the night. And Sakusa liked that you were.

He couldn’t judge you much, since he was being much more pathetic right now, acting like he wasn’t a grown man, and instead like a school boy with a crush.

To Sakusa’s complete and utter disappointment, the feelings did not fade with time, and a lot of time has passed. In fact, he thinks the feelings became, somehow, more intense. Whenever you were in his presence, he couldn’t think straight, but still he kept up with his aloof act since that was the only way he knew how to not lose his composure around you. Every time you would tell him you liked him—and you did that a lot, confidently, self-assured, and wildly flustering. 

Thoughts of you plagued his every waking moment. Wherever he was, whoever he was with, he only wondered what you could be doing. Who were you with? Did you eat properly instead of your ‘girl dinner’? Were you pulling all-nighters? What was on your mind? Who was on your mind? He hoped it was him. Stupid, stupid, him.

Sakusa let out a groan of frustration. Abusing the dishes he was washing. From his peripheral vision, he saw his phone light up, meaning that a notification came in. Sakusa wiped his hands with a towel before grabbing his phone. Tongue-in-cheek, seeing it was a message from you, wildly, just your name had made his breath hitch.

[name] :3 8:01 PM what kind of gift do you want for the holidays?

The kiss emoticon was glaring at him. You added it in passing, one of the days Atsumu crashed his apartment with the difference being you tagging along—you had seen the simple contact name and had taken offense, took the opportunity to flirt with him, winking and saying the new contact is better suited for his future girlfriend. Sakusa thought that by then he would be desensitized to your ways of making him flustered, but he was wrong. Shaking his head at the memory, he focuses on the present and types in his reply, and the conversation stretches, as it always does with you.

This led him to go out with you to buy presents for the holidays. Going store to store. You lighting up every time you found something you liked, it made Sakusa want to purchase everything you touched (that was practically what he ended up doing). You were the type of person who used their whole body to express themselves. His usually stoic, reserved nature could hardly keep up. Despite that, spending time with you has always been comfortable. It felt nice. The whole ordeal was almost like… a date.

This was most definitely another bad idea of his.

When he was driving you back home, he found himself looking at your profile at every stoplight. Carefully dragging the look from your lashes, the tip of your nose, and the curve of your lips. Quiet moments letting himself bask in your presence, refamiliarize himself with features he knew like the back of his hand.

It lingered with him hours after dropping you off, going to the company, and all the way to the comfort of his hand-picked, carefully designed haven of a home. The look on your face telling him how happy you were, the way you clung to him, the warmth of your barely-there touch. Sakusa sighed out your name, putting an arm over his eyes. That’s it. He was going to throw himself into work. He didn’t know if he could make it back to his family home, where he knew you would be near, and make rational decisions. Whenever it comes to you, his rationality gets thrown out the window, forever forgotten.

He knew himself too well. Rationality be damned. He tried delaying going back home, but you reached out to him, calling him out on how he didn’t go home for Christmas like promised—he wasn’t ready to face you again—and that you were disappointed because you wanted to see him. A text from you was all it took for him to cave into his desires.

It was his very desires that led him to trap you between him and his old desk. He ended up telling you a sorry excuse about being confused about how he felt toward you when he was not confused at all. He knew what he wanted. He knew he wanted you. His mind tells him about how he shouldn’t want you, but he still does. He knew what he should be doing, what he should’ve done all along, and this was you getting dragged into his conflicting thoughts and actions. He’s stuck in that state of conflict because right then and there, he was filled with desire for you.

With the space between you two, he was itching to close in. He blamed it on the alcohol and knew that after the buzz, he could only blame himself. But fuck that.

He closed the gap, placing his lips on yours, and oddly enough, he felt like he was breathing properly again. His hands on your hips, and then wandering. The moment felt like it lasted for a long time. He wanted it to last a long time. You just felt so good against him. Felt so right. He was doomed. 

So doomed. He thought as he pulled away, looking at your dazed expression. You were surprised. He was mad at himself.

He did the cowardly thing and stumbled away. When he found himself fumbling the keys to his car, he was breathing heavily. Gasping as he banged his head against the steering wheel. He licked his lips, and he could still taste you.

Then he made the worst decision he could have made yet.

He lied to Atsumu and said he was seeing someone. Knowing that the news would reach you.

Sakusa knew this was something that would make you stay away from him. It was impulsive, and it was stupid. He knew that. He refrained from messaging you since that night, not knowing what to say, and he heard nothing from you, either. Late at night, he would think about your soft body against his, the shape of your lips, the taste of you. He felt guilty, and he missed you even more.

Sakusa regrets it.

The next months spent were like hell. He found himself waiting for messages that would never come. Hanging on to every little mention of you that Atsumu would spill (it wasn’t like he could talk to his best friend about this). Checking your accounts to see if you’ve posted anything. There was nothing, no sign of you. Just like he wanted. Right? Sakusa let out a hysterical chuckle, filled with self-hatred. He was hurting you. He knew he was hurting you. He was awful.

So, of course, the first time you see each other again, you would break.

And of course, the company decided to throw him a surprise party at a time in his life when the only thing Sakusa felt was dread. He had been with Akaashi to work on their agenda for preparing the new album launch, his most trustworthy bandmate had led him to a terrible event where he was forced to socialize and be the center of attention.

Meanwhile, his attention was centered only on you. Atsumu probably had good intentions in bringing you here, noticing the sudden rift in your relationship. His fault. Sakusa thought to himself. For the first time in his life, Sakusa saw you doing everything possible not to make eye contact with him. Sakusa grieved the loss of your gaze that he loved to read. You were rigid, clearly uncomfortable.

Sakusa could hardly blame you for excusing yourself. He could blame himself for following you. For a while, he just stood there as he watched you sob. It made his heart ache, and he couldn’t help it. He removed the coat he wore so that he could place it on your shoulders. A sorry attempt at making you feel like you weren’t alone.

He could hardly blame you for the words that came after.

“I give up… I’m sorry for pushing my feelings onto you the past four years. I’m letting you go, Sakusa.” 

Your words stabbed him in the gut, but he deserved it. He never deserved your affection in the first place. While you were saying it, your eyes were bleak. He engraved that look in his memory, which was his fault. He needed to remember it. This was a punishment. He broke your heart, and in the process, he broke his own, too. He was so pathetic.

“Omi, what do you think of this?” Sakusa snaps out of his pitiful thoughts and focuses on Suna in the recording booth. They were recording the last half of the songs in their newest album, ‘Your Worshipper’. Between this, planning for their world tour, and constant rehearsals, Sakusa had hoped he would be distracted enough not to think about you all the time. It was working so far.

“It’s good,” Sakusa responded to the microphone connected to Suna’s headphones flatly, nodding his head and focusing on the music. Sakusa then talked to the sound engineer for a while. He was relieved to have tasks to focus on.

“I think on the next line you should shift the start from an A major to A minor,” Akaashi stepped in, taking the microphone from Sakusa. They were recording this song in particular by tracking individually.

“Got it,” Suna said. They prepared once more for another take and were lost in the lull of the music.

“Hey guys, I ordered us some pizza,” Atsumu walks into the studio, phone in hand, with a languid smile. He had also been weighed down by the amount of work they had recently, the evidence clear with his darkening undereyes (Sakusa assumed he looked similar). They’ve all been practically living in the studio. “It’ll arrive in 30 minutes or something,” Atsumu grunted, falling to the couch, “Rin ain’t done yet?”

“Just some touch-ups,” Akaashi responds, settling beside Atsumu. Pulling out his phone and texting someone. Sakusa noticed from the corner of his eye, noting that it was probably his girlfriend he was keeping secret for some reason. It was none of his business, so he didn’t really bother asking about it.

They had spent another hour or two in the studio before calling it a day. Before leaving the building, the four of them decided to go to their personal lounge in the company, wanting to discuss some technical aspects of their schedule. The basics: meeting with the manager in the morning regarding the music video for their lead single, tour schedules, endorsements to take on, and such, but eventually the conversation turned more casual, finding the business talk tiring.

“I was lurking on Twitter and found an edit of Keiji breathing provocatively,” Atsumu chuckled, scrolling through his phone to look for the edit he had saved in his gallery specifically to show them.

“Excuse me?” Akaashi opened an eye from his laid-back position on the couch. He wasn’t the type to see what his fans were saying about him. Atsumu shoves his phone into Akaashi’s face, the latter just looking at it with mild interest.

“No fair, I breathe hotter,” Suna says, getting a beer from their mini fridge. “Though it’s true some of our fans are really thirsty. Can you blame them?” Suna, cocky as ever, made a show of dragging a hand from his head to toe.

Atsumu rolled his eyes, done with showing Akaashi the edit, “I really don’t know how your assistant bears with you.”

“Wow. Big words coming from you,” Suna tosses him a beer, still looking through the cabinets for some snacks.

“I can’t drink this,” Atsumu declines, tossing said beer to Sakusa, who had been silent and merely observing. Sakusa catches it, reading the label, it was even the beer that Atsumu favored.

“Since when did you deny a drink?” Sakusa, curious, asks. Atsumu would usually be the one reaching for a cold drink after a tiring day, so this was new behavior. Sakusa pops open the beer and takes a sip. He needed this after a stressful week (although if he were being honest, it was more of stressful months—stress on the mind, but more of the heart).

“Just can’t,” Atsumu shrugged, playing it cool. “Oh, I just remembered something,” Atsumu snapped his fingers, “Omi, how are you and your girlfriend?”

Sakusa almost choked on the beer he was drinking. He gulped it down and avoided embarrassment. Right. He was supposed to have a girlfriend. A simple reason should be fine, “Ah, we broke up.”

“Already? How long has it been? We never even got to meet her,” Atsumu asks, nosy as ever, a hand on his chin. Face serious as if this really concerned him.

“It was never serious, just something casual. Trying things out,” Sakusa leaned back on the chair. Hoping that he was being smooth about this. It was totally normal to see people and end things abruptly, why couldn’t he do the same? It was a solid explanation.

“I’m curious what your type is. I’ve never seen you show interest in girls,” Suna chips in, sitting beside Atsumu on the couch. 

“I don’t have a type,” Sakusa closes his eyes, and an image of you appears. No. Stop thinking about her. You don’t deserve to even think about her. He scolded himself.

“Boo, that’s lame,” Suna said, “Well, I guess Akaashi’s the same way. But not really, Kaashi, don’t you have a thing for your sister’s best friend? It’s kinda been obvious since college.” Pointing out what had been silently known between the four of them for years.

Akaashi looks up, eyes wide at first. He licked his lips, taking a second before replying, but answered with a simple, “Yes.”

“Is that not weird?” Atsumu asks, “It would be like if Omi actually liked [name] romantically.”

Sakusa was going to have a stroke. He coughed, satisfying the itch with another sip of beer. Suna eyes him from the couch. Another observant one, Sakusa hoped Suna wouldn’t read into it.

“Well,” Akaashi started, seeming to actually think about it, “I like her. Should opinions other than hers matter?”

“Preach,” Suna nodded and raised his drink.

Sakusa stared at the beer, spacing out. Part of the reason why he did not want to pursue his feelings for you was that he knew that Atsumu would not be pleased. Begrudgingly, he cared for his friend and didn’t want to do anything that would risk their friendship or let it get in the way of their work, too. Deep down, Sakusa knew Akaashi was right—the one whose opinion mattered the most was you, not anyone else. His grip on the beer tightened.

Sakusa made a grave mistake.

His feelings for you weren’t going to disappear anytime soon. He knew that now. Years had passed, and he still, unequivocally, loved you. The distance between him and you had grown, and it only made him miserable. He almost chuckled at the situation he put himself in. He had you. You had liked him already. All he had to do was say something. But no, he had to be stubborn, and where did that leave him? Sad, alone, without your presence that he craved, missing your laughter, missing your voice, just missing you.

“Omi, are you still keeping in touch with [name]?” Atsumu really had a way of making him feel worse than he already did.

Sakusa just looked at him, shaking his head slowly. He wasn’t going to lie and deny that he wasn’t keeping updated on your social media accounts, but you had gone silent, and he had no way to reach you.

“I know things became weird between you two after you got a girlfriend. Was just curious if she still reaches out?” Atsumu still probes. Suna just watches the exchange, while Akaashi excuses himself to the hallway.

“Oh… uh, no, not really.” Sakusa hated that the words came out awkwardly. He swayed the can he held.

“Well, at least she got over you now, right?” Atsumu gave a smile, waving his hands, “This is for the better.” This is for the better.

Is it really? If it’s for the better, then why is Sakusa feeling like he lost a part of himself? As if half of his heart was in your possession. Sakusa hadn’t realized he would ever become this corny.

He finally had the guts to go back to his home over the weekend, because his Mother was complaining that he was never home. When he went to his room, his mind flashed to when you were pressed against him, and he immediately regretted agreeing to come over. Before leaving, he saw an unfamiliar box situated on his shelf that wasn’t there before. It was sleek and rectangular, wrapped in a neat white ribbon.

Curious, Sakusa unwrapped it, finding a silver watch along with a note. It was your handwriting, ‘To the only guy I’ll ever like, from: [name]’ with a small heart beside it. Sakusa’s heart ached. Sakusa shook off his train of thought, telling himself he could brood when he was alone.

“Yeah, it’s great,” Sakusa said, then accidentally met eyes with Suna. He swore he saw the guy murmur an ‘Interesting’ under his breath. Sakusa’s eye twitched, so much for not being perceived. “I’ve been keeping in touch with her roommate, I met, remember the one I said a while back,” Atsumu was immersed in his tangent, “Said [name]’s been going on dates! And I didn’t know! I’m her brother, how could she?”

Sakusa’s ears rang at the news. He blinked. You were going out on dates. Seeing other people. It was something he had been encouraging you to do for a while, and now you were following through. It was only natural, since you had said you would be getting over him. It did not stop the nasty emotions that sprang up in Sakusa’s chest. His jaw hardened at the thought of another person enjoying your beauty and your warmth. Sakusa was so envious, he forgot how to breathe. “Leave little Miya alone, bro,” Suna shook his head, finally speaking up, “Let her live a little.”

“I heard she’s even going on a blind date this weekend,” Atsumu’s eyes were blown, “A blind date! A stranger! So, of course, I called her and berated her about it. She sent me the place they were going.”

Sakusa licked his lips that were getting dry, his grip on the beer can tightening. He had no right to be annoyed at this.

“Protective freak,” Suna sneered at Atsumu.

“Oh, Omi!” Atsumu suddenly turned to him, making Sakusa force himself to relax, lest Atsumu notice his internal struggle, “Come with me, let’s watch over her.”

At the suggestion, Sakusa was appalled,  “That sounds very intrusive. An invasion of privacy, at that. No.” Sakusa says. Other reasons excluded. He didn’t want to see you all dolled up for another person.

“Come on, let’s just say we’re having a night out. It’s a bar they’re meeting at.” Atsumu says he starts nudging Suna, and the latter says to leave him out of this.

“The press,” Sakusa excuses. Looking away, a part of him wanted to go, but his brain said no. He respected your choices. And if your choice was to see other people, then you were rightly justified. He couldn’t ruin that.

“Come on, you know they won’t bother. At most, we just meet some fans who know us.” Atsumu continues to urge.

“No.” Sakusa was firm. He had definitely been very firm.

So why was Sakusa here?

At a part of the city he wasn’t usually in (to be fair, his usual locations are just his apartment and the office), with clothes that clearly weren’t meant for going out, and with an enthusiastic Miya Atsumu beside him wearing a suspicious hat. Sakusa hadn’t looked any better, his usual hoodie his only “disguise”. Atsumu had shown up in his apartment, and Sakusa had finally relented. Sakusa, at the back of his mind, thought something was definitely bothering Atsumu if he was trying to distract himself so much that he thought it was a logical thing to stalk his own sister.

They had entered the bar in all their glory, one looking suspicious and the other looking out of place, and sat at the back, from where they could see people enter the bar. Sakusa thinks this was utterly ridiculous, and at the same time, his heart was beating fast at the thought of seeing you after a while. He wanted to see you, but he desperately hoped that you wouldn’t see him, especially because he would be mortified at what you would think of him lurking around you like this.

Atsumu had ordered for them, and Sakusa wanted to bury himself in his seat.

“Let's make bets on which of these guys she’s seeing,” Atsumu said, scanning the bar for men who were alone. Sakusa did not want to do that at all.

“What’s with you, really?” Sakusa grumbled, eyes sharp and wary. And then—you entered the bar. Clueless, you were looking around the vicinity. Thankfully, he and Atsumu were seated in a darker area, so your gaze didn’t pan to them. Sakusa watched as you tucked your hair behind your ear and pulled out your phone. Sakusa gulped. You were beautiful, no doubt. Beautiful, and not his.

“I bet it’s that guy with the glasses,” Atsumu murmured from beside him. Once more, Sakusa was annoyed at the reminder that you were here for a date.

Atsumu was right on his guess, as he and Sakusa watched you walk towards a guy in a dress shirt and glasses. Sakusa had suddenly felt a bit conscious that he was basically in loungewear. Atsumu eventually got bored with watching you, as Sakusa predicted, and instead started talking about his problems. Sakusa listened understandably, knowing this was coming because of Atsumu’s strange behavior.

Sakusa’s eyes stayed on you. Watched as you spoke with your date with enthusiasm, watched as you laughed at something he said, and watched as you looked at the guy with interest you had only previously reserved for Sakusa. Sakusa felt that ugly emotion creeping up in his chest. You deserved to be happy—he can’t ruin that by suddenly declaring his love for you right when you started giving other people a chance.

Sakusa looked away, not able to take it anymore. He didn’t know how he survived the rest of the evening. At least there was the alcohol Atsumu brought that gave the pair solidarity, merely two miserable idiots in a bar.

Then you stood up. And you were walking toward the area where they were seated, you didn’t look like you saw them, so you were likely heading to the washroom, which was located right past their table. Sakusa felt internal panic. You were getting closer, Sakusa had hoped they were unnoticeable.

“Atsumu, what the fuck?” The voice he hadn’t heard in months brought out a longing he was pushing down.

Sakusa should have known there was no way he was getting out of this without embarrassing himself.

Atsumu looked up robotically, one bottle of alcohol affecting his current state, shifting about with slight sweat, “Hey lil sis—” he smiled sheepishly.

You didn’t let him finish as you slammed a hand on the table, “What are you doing here?” You demanded with a glare pointed at Atsumu. You were suddenly so close, and Sakusa couldn’t look away. You were too focused on pointing your irritation at Atsumu that it took a second for your gaze to shift beside him. Straight at Sakusa.

You flinched, visibly, obviously. The hand you had slapped on the table lifted back as you physically recoiled, “Ki-Sakusa, y-you’re here too.” You were reduced to a state of speechlessness. You turned to look over your shoulder at your date, who was seated with his back to you all—he thankfully hadn’t seen the scene playing out at this table.

“I thought it would be funny,” your attention turns back to Atsumu and his sorry excuse. And you returned to your normal—rightfully angry—state.

“Following me while I’m on a date?” You were in disbelief, you ran a hand through your hair, similar to how Sakusa does, he notes. He watched the motion, bewildered. You were actually standing before him, and this time he wasn’t dreaming. You huff in frustration, “I’m going to tattle,” your eyes enlarge.

Atsumu’s brows furrow, “Tattle to who? Osamu?”

“No,” you had that look on your face, the one that said ‘try me’, “You know who.”

“You can’t,” Atsumu exclaimed.

“I can.” You challenged.

Atsumu pressed his palms together, as if contemplating his life decisions, before staring at his sister with the most serious expression, “No harm was done.”

“There is harm done to my mental health,” you deadpan.

“Do you think there will be a second date?” Atsumu sidelines.

Your eyes briefly flicker to Sakusa, as if conscious of him being around, then back to Atsumu, “I don’t know. It’s none of your business.”

“Relax, we got bored watching you after five minutes, now we’re just chilling,” Atsumu shrugs. Sakusa hates that he’s an accomplice to this.

“Ugh! Still,” you were getting angrier by the second. Was it awful that Sakusa thought you just got even prettier? He likes it when you show a range of emotions. He loves how expressive you are.

“We’ll leave,” Sakusa finally speaks up. You had been avoiding his gaze the whole time, and now you were forced to look at him properly.

You took a deep breath before speaking, licking your lips, “Did he drag you into this?” You point a thumb at your brother, who was calling the waiter to get their bill.

“No, I willingly went here on a Saturday night in my sweats,” Sakusa said, laced with obvious sarcasm. It was a good thing he still knew how to act with a semblance of normalcy around you. His brain was getting fried being an arm's length away from you.

The anger in your face started fading, replaced with thinly veiled amusement. Your lips twitched, and Sakusa swore you almost laughed. He wished you did. After a second, you sighed, “Sorry Atsumu forced you into stalking me, Sakusa.” You were talking to him normally, and surely, that’s enough to make him happy, but Sakusa was dissatisfied. He wanted to hear you call him by his nickname. 

“It’s alright,” Sakusa tilted his head, “Were you… having fun?” he tried making small talk, but he wouldn’t really be able to bear your answer.

You didn’t get to reply. “Whoa, ya’ll are talking to each other normally,” Atsumu said, looking back and forth between you and Sakusa, situated in the middle of the tension, completely oblivious.

In synch, you turned your heads to glare at him.

“Just leave.”

“Let’s leave.”

Atsumu raised his hands in defeat, “Yeah, yeah, we’ll leave already. Geez. You’re both so prickly.” Atsumu stands from the booth and starts walking away, confidently, without any semblance of shame, even though there was a wobble in his step.

Sakusa shook his head, rising from his seat, knowing he had to follow Atsumu before he showed up in gossip columns in the morning. You were also turning around to head back to your table.

With your back to him, Sakusa opened his mouth, hesitating, but eventually, he couldn’t help it, he called out your name.

He watched as your posture stiffened, but you still turned to face him, “Yeah?” you asked as casually as you could.

“Are you not,” Sakusa inhaled, he wanted to know, “Mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” Your reply was something that he didn’t expect. Why wouldn’t you be mad at him? He had done nothing right. Could you not see that? Or were you choosing not to care about him anymore? He’d rather you be mad at him.

“For everything. Being a douche.” For not being deserving of you. He added in his head. He watched you, a relief he’s allowing himself after months of silence. He watched as you struggled to look at him directly.

“It’s not your fault you didn’t feel the same way, Sakusa,” you fidget with the edge of your dress. Sakusa was developing a strong dislike for his last name on your lips. “You can see whoever you want. I’m fine now. I told you, I was letting you go.”

The words hadn’t hurt less the second time you said them. But Sakusa couldn’t do anything at the moment other than nod.

“S-So how are you and your girlfriend?” It was typical of you to continue rambling to try to lighten the tension between you. You continue to fidget, as if restless.

Sakusa looked at you intently, the selfish part of him hoping you would return it. Before he knew it, he was saying the truth, “I don’t have one.”

“What?” You stop your fidgeting, and finally, you meet his eyes. For once, to Sakusa, you were difficult to read.

“I’m not seeing anyone,” Sakusa said, a strain in his voice. You were so near, and he wasn’t allowed to reach for you. 

“Oh.” Your eyes were then laced with confusion, “Oh.” It was as if you couldn’t say anything else.

Sakusa wanted to know what was going on in your head, but he refrained from asking. Instead, he says another thought, wanting to take this chance to apologize again, “I’m sorry. I know no amount of apologies can ever make up for what I did to you. I’m sorry.” I love you.

“Ah… uhm, it’s fine now. I’m fine, don’t–don’t worry about it,” you stutter out, avoiding his gaze again. “I will, erm, go now, my date is waiting.” You don’t even wait for a reply as you clumsily walk away.

Sakusa ran a hand through his hair, gulping, watching as you sit back down beside the guy who had the guts he wished he had all those months—even, years—ago. He walked toward the exit before he ended up standing there and staring at you stupidly.

Briefly, he remembers Atsumu had wandered off. Sakusa had another responsibility that needed his attention. Through his stride, all he could think about was how much he craved your presence. He knew he couldn’t ruin whatever made you happy right now. But he recalls the way you reacted when you first saw him, and the indescribable expression on your face when he mentioned he hadn’t been dating anyone.

Could he read into this? His selfish side whispered the dangerous thoughts in his head. Was there a chance you would still open up your heart to him? The selfless thing would be to let you let go, finish what he started. There was probably no chance you would let him be that close to you again.

But If there really wasn’t a chance, Sakusa thinks he would still want to pursue you regardless.

Despite everything, he seemed to have made up his mind after all. He was now just being honest with himself.

You screamed into your pillow. Rising from your bed, the said pillow falls onto your lap, and then you fold and scream into it again.

Furious knocks were made to your door, “Girl, are you dying!?” you hear Shikako’s voice. You flop back onto your bed. You might as well be!

You toss and turn in your bed as you recall the events of last night. Amaku, your other roommate, had mentioned a friend whom she thought you would get along with and offered to set you up on a blind date. You had readily agreed, this guy being one of the many you had been cycling through—exploring your options would be the better term—after you had declared you would get over Sakusa, right to his face. It was going well, the guy was kind of cute and sweet and all, but you were missing the hum of excitement in the back of your brain that tugged at your heartstrings.

Then, later in the evening, the said tugging at your heartstrings that you had been missing, moved at the unexpected sight of Sakusa himself in the flesh. You should’ve known something like this would happen the moment you told Atsumu insider information regarding your love life. It had been your mistake to feel bad because he was going through something right now. You should’ve just let Atsumu be sad and miserable.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself, seeing Sakusa had made your date look like a potato. You had been genuinely trying to move on for the past few months. But every single time, with no fail, you would subconsciously compare the guys you went on dates with to Sakusa. You were only starting to bypass that problem by reminding yourself of how much he hurt you. You knew Sakusa wasn’t perfect—he had many flaws, but you liked him anyway. Past tense. Your feelings for him are a thing of the past.

Ugh, who were you kidding? You couldn’t even gaslight yourself properly. You scream again in frustration.

Your door was then slammed open. You jump in surprise at the sound as Shikako waltzes in with her hands on her waist, staring you down. “Seriously, girl, what’s wrong with you?”

You look up from your cocoon on the bed, a massive pout present, “The realization that I will stay forever single, lonely, and miserable because I can’t get over a guy who broke my heart.”

“Uhm, very dreary, okay then, Sakusa Kiyoomi related dilemma.” Shikako scratched her head. After meeting Atsumu, you had told her and Amaku (the latter was in momentary shock after you confessed your relation to Atsumu, whom she idolized) everything that happened between you and Sakusa, from how you first met when you were kids, to Sakusa’s surprise party. Of course, you omitted the details regarding New Year’s Eve (some things you’d like to keep to yourself).

You groan, “He was there! Last night!”

“What? How?”

“My no-good brother!” You shout in frustration. You stop yourself and collect your thoughts before you end up spilling Atsumu’s secrets to Shikako. You were still a considerate sister, which your brother did not deserve.

“No way.” Shikako looked slightly amused, which you rightfully glared at. Was your despair amusing? You know what, maybe it was. Your life is a joke.

“Yes way,” you bite your lip so hard it might’ve bled.

“So what happened?” Shikako sits at the edge of your bed, next to your imitation of a human burrito.

“Nothing!” you shook your head.

“Nothing? Then why are you acting like this?” Shikako raised a brow at you, full of suspicion.

“‘Cause seeing him made my heart go dug dug!” You rolled over to bury yourself in your sheets.

“That is a problem because?” Shikako, patient as ever, continued asking.

“Because I’m moving on, remember?” you roll back up. 

“I thought you said you’ve already moved on?”

“Clearly not,” you sit up, murmuring as you run a hand through your face. Frustrated with yourself.

“Well, what are you gonna do?” 

“Absolutely nothing.” You say, staring at your ceiling. You recall the way Sakusa said he hadn’t been seeing anyone anymore. The way he looked at you–it made your knees weak. “I’m done chasing after him. I have some self-respect.”

“Really? I didn’t notice,” Shikako teased, “What would you do if he reached out?”

“Why would he?” You highly doubted it would happen, maybe in your wildest dreams.

“Just think about it, what would you do if he reached out?” “Reply?” you say as if it were obvious.

“Wow, spoken like someone who’s moved on.” Shikako laughed.

“We’re still childhood friends! Me liking him never erased that. He’s done a lot for me and me liking him doesn’t erase our history. I’ll always care about him. As a friend.” You say in a hurry, clearly defensive.

“As a friend. Sure. What if he doesn’t want to be friends?”

You frowned, contemplating it, “I guess if me having romantic feelings for him made him uncomfortable, then we may not be able to be friends anymore.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Shikako started you, “I mean, what if he wanted to be more than friends?”

You looked at her as if she were crazy. “That’s silly. He wouldn’t like me like that. I tried for years, remember?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t rule out the possibility. All those years, would he really feel nothing?” Shikako said. Your mind flashes to the evening that Sakusa kissed you and touched you as if he yearned for you. Stop! Erase, thoughts begone! “You were the one who said he’d always been very attentive to you, and you felt like he treated you better than the other people in his life.”

“That was my delusion talking. Stop playing devil’s advocate, I’m moving on!” You said in finality. Shikako just shook her head and left you be, saying Amaku was preparing dinner so you could head out when you felt like a human being again.

Nothing very eventful had happened after that. You have been quite busy ever since you started your final year. Your mind was set on graduating with good prospects. You already had an internship lined up that, if you were lucky, would lead to you having a job right after graduation. You stopped going on dates, primarily because they were useless, because you kept thinking about a certain someone anyway. It was unfair to you and your dates if you were forcing it. So you decided to focus on yourself and hope for the best.

Ikarus had been a scarce topic in your dorm, your roommates being considerate of your dilemma. You heard that Ikarus released the lead single of their upcoming album from Atsumu when he sent it in the family group chat. You sent a quick ‘congratulations’ before focusing on your work.

You really were trying to focus on your work. But your hands betrayed you as you switched tabs and logged onto your Twitter account, the one you haven’t been active in for almost a year.

As soon as you clicked the ‘home’ page, your feed was flooded with fans gushing about the new single. You read through the reactions like a crazed person, especially the ones that mentioned Sakusa. That said something about your internet activity, since he was arguably the most overlooked one. No one saw his appeal as much as you do—did. Did. You slap your hands against your cheeks.

You hadn’t seen him since that evening at the bar, around two months ago. He was busy, not like you would know for sure. The evidence would be Atsumu’s absence. That clearly meant they were bombarded with work. You didn’t know how to feel. Your phone vibrated, signaling a notification. You reach out and open your lockscreen.

kiyo <3 4:05 PM Hello

You shrieked. Almost dropping your phone. You had been no-contact for months. Why was he messaging you? Your heart was thumping so loudly you feared it would jump out of your chest. 

kiyo <3 4:06 PM It’s okay if you don’t reply. I just wanted to tell you I sent food over to your unit. Atsumu mentioned you’ve been working hard.

You blinked at your screen, wondering if your late nights studying while juggling work were catching up to you and you were starting to hallucinate. You exited the app and opened it again, but the messages didn’t disappear. It definitely sounded like Sakusa texting, and not a scammer. And what? He sent over food? 

you 4:10 PM helloo thank youu

You couldn’t really figure out what to say after that. You contemplated whether you should be saying ‘I should be the one sending something to congratulate you for your song release’ or ‘Why are you acting like this’, but in the end, you decided to just leave it at that. Although it does sound awkward.

kiyo <3 4:11 PM It’s no problem, I hope you enjoy :)

That was weird. You don’t know what to think about that. You would have ended up believing that the interaction really was just a figment of your imagination if it hadn’t been for the security staff calling in, saying there was a food delivery for you. 

The weird interactions didn’t end there. The following weeks, Sakusa would send you cryptic texts–okay, well, not really cryptic. They were normal texts. Just checking up on you. Asking about your day. You replied out of courtesy, definitely not as enthusiastic as you were before, but you were still being wary. He didn’t seem like he minded being the one to carry the conversation. It made you very suspicious.

You didn’t want to read too much into his actions. He was probably doing this because he still felt bad about what happened between you two. He was just being nice. You were going to pretend that it didn’t give you butterflies every time his name popped up on your phone.

Two months passed by, and you got invited by Atsumu to an event celebrating the launch of their full album. You declined because you really were very busy and needed to finish some papers, and he complained because he knew you were at home for the weekend. You were firm about not going because you were busy. If it were you from a year ago, you would have jumped at the chance to see Sakusa. You take some time to listen to the songs, though, finding yourself proud every time you see Sakusa’s name credited as a producer, as if his achievements were yours.

kiyo <3 6:00 PM Did Atsumu invite you to the party?

Speak of the devil. You nibbled on your lower lip as you typed in a reply. You really should change his contact name.

you  6:01 PM yeahh but i can’t go i have papers to proofread

kiyo <3 6:01 PM Are you at your dorm?

you  6:02 PM no i’m actually at home

You place your phone down and stretch. You were sitting by your desk for what felt like hours now. You watch as your phone lights up.

kiyo <3 6:04 PM Can I drop by? I can proofread your papers.

Your eyes widen at his suggestion.

you 6:04 PM omg you don’t have to do that

kiyo <3 6:04 PM I insist

you 6:04 PM you should celebrate with the others

kiyo <3 6:05 PM I don’t really enjoy parties.

You knew that. It makes total sense that he would choose not to go simply because he wasn’t feeling it. But him choosing not to go and spend his time proofreading your papers with you? Were you living in a different dimension?

kiyo <3 6:06 PM So can I?

You wet your lips. You found yourself typing before thinking and hit send.

you 6:07 PM if you want

You don’t hear from him after that. He probably backed out. He definitely did. He was probably just joking. Or he was possessed by some spirit. Yeah. That sounds rational. You try to focus on your paper, one of three you had due on Monday. See, you weren’t lying at all when you said you were busy. You had a workload to catch up on the following week, too. Sakusa coming over had been pushed to the back of your mind, only to come crashing back in two hours later.

A knock was made to your door, “Sweetheart,” your Mom enters your room, “Kiyoomi’s waiting for you downstairs.” Your hand fumbles on your keyboard, and you end up typing in random characters.

“Who?” You ask, thinking you heard wrong. Which made no sense, because you were just texting Sakusa earlier, and he mentioned he was coming over. Your brain couldn’t process that he actually did come over. 

“Kiyoomi,” your Mom says again, and she gives you a curious look. Your parents weren’t privy to your feelings for Sakusa, but it’s not like you weren’t obvious. It just wasn’t something explicitly brought up. “He said he’s here to help you with your papers.” Now that it was said out loud, it really sounded odd.

A successful music artist, who skipped out on his album launch party so he could proofread your university papers with you.

Your mom had told you not to keep him waiting long and that she’d be sleeping if you needed her, before leaving you to your thoughts. You closed your laptop and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was messy, your eyes were sunken—the dark circles were prominent, and you were wearing your pineapple-patterned pajamas. There was no saving this.

You accepted your grim fate and collected your laptop and cursor, stepping out of your room and walking down the stairs. You meet eyes with Sakusa, who was sitting on your couch, and you immediately regret not putting on a bit of concealer.

“Hey,” you say as casually as you can, and he stands up to get the things you were clutching to your chest. All of a sudden, he was towering over you again. Then he walks back to the couch. You only look at him as he diligently sets up your workspace on the tabletop.

“Where should we start?” Sakusa asks, all serious and looking dedicated. He had on that tiny crease on his forehead that meant he was focused.

Your mouth hung open, forgetting to speak momentarily. Sure, the past few weeks you’ve been exchanging texts, but this was the first time you’re actually around him after that evening. The most normal you have acted around each other in so long.

“[name]?” He calls on you. You blink furiously.

“Uh, I can send you the file. I have three papers, one I’m still working on,” You situate yourself on the couch. Sakusa had grabbed his bag, which you now just noticed, and pulled out his own laptop. Oh wow, you were really doing this. 

Soon enough, you had been working in a systemic manner. Sakusa was quietly working on proofreading the papers you had finished writing. While you couldn’t figure out how you were able to write legibly with him sitting right next to you.

An hour and a half in, Sakusa stands up and gets a glass of water. You thought it was because he was feeling parched, but he handed you the glass. You thanked him a little timidly. Your social skills were failing you.

The silence was broken by him, “Are you seeing anyone right now?” his eyes were still on his screen when you looked over to him.

You purse your lips. Why was he asking you this? “No, I took a break from dating.” You tell him the truth.

“Oh, okay,” Sakusa replied casually. Still methodically looking through your paper and typing in corrections he deemed fit.

You took a deep breath, holding onto the sides of the laptop, “Sakusa—”

He doesn’t let you finish, still not looking at you, “It’s Kiyo.”

“What?” You look at him weirdly.

“You should go back to calling me Kiyo.” He finally looks at you, and oh God, his stare made you feel weak, “Please.”

Oh, that was just unfair. You lost all the courage to say what you wanted to say right then and there. Ultimately, deciding to just focus on finishing your paper. You don’t think you were ready to confront him right now, either. So you sat there, a quiet, comfortable lull settling between you two. Only the sound of keyboards clacking filled the silence. 

Two weeks passed, and you were faced with a new problem. You wanted to start touring apartments for when you graduated in half a year, and you had scheduled tours with agents in advance. Your roommates were supposed to go with you, since you felt uneasy touring apartments alone. But suddenly, Shikako had a family emergency, and Amaku was called on to work, so you were alone.

Usually, this was when your brothers became useful. But unfortunately for you, Atsumu was unavailable because he booked a flight out of the country on a whim, and Osamu was also overseas on a once-in-a-lifetime culinary workshop that would help his business. Thus, you were utterly out of options. You couldn’t cancel on the tour because this day was one of the few free days you had.

You were ranting about this to your Mom, who said she’ll try to do something about it. You don’t know how she was planning to do something about your dilemma, but you were grateful for the moral support.

You really should’ve expected it.

kiyo <3 11:21 AM I’m in your lobby.

You were hit with a sudden wave of deja vu. Since you had expected to go out today, you were already ready. Your appointment was not until 12:30, and you were close to just going by yourself, even if it wasn’t ideal.

When you stepped out of your apartment and into the elevator, you were mentally preparing yourself. Sakusa managed to weave himself back into your life even after you swore you would give up on him. He was even more attentive and present than ever. Could you really allow yourself to name it for what you think it is? What if you were wrong? A part of you is still hoping, that damned part of you that loved him unconditionally. 

You step out of the elevator and into the lobby, and you spot Sakusa in a casual white shirt with jeans and a black mask. He was unbelievably attractive, the world was so biased. 

When Sakusa sees you, he stands up straight and walks over. He casually takes your bag from your shoulder, “Hi. I hope it’s okay to go with you, your Mom asked me for a favor.”

You didn’t know if your Mom hated or loved you. “It’s alright. I’m sorry to be a bother,” you fidget with your hands.

“You’re never a bother,” Sakusa says under his breath, as if it were something only for you to hear. You swore that made you feel things. “I parked my car in the basement,” He says. That made sense since the front of the building was only for drop-offs.

The two of you walk to the elevator. You really didn’t know what to say, but you also hated the air of uncertainty between you two. You hated not knowing where you stood with him.

That was why when you were walking towards his car, you gained the courage to call out to him, a hand reaching out to grab his wrist, “Kiyo.”

He froze. This was the first time you actually called him by his nickname even though he said that you should on your couch those weeks ago. He turned, full attention now on you. Your eyes flitter over his face, unresting. 

“What are you doing?” you ask the question that has been bothering you for months. You look up at him with a vulnerability you would usually want to keep to yourself.

Sakusa looked a bit puzzled, “I’m… leading the way to my car?” he sounded like anything he would say would be the wrong thing.

“No, I mean, what are you doing with me?” You point to yourself using your free hand, unconsciously, your hold on his wrist tightens. This pained you, “I told you I was letting you go, but you, you’re not letting me let go.” Your voice got quiet at the end, but you weren’t finished. “You know about my feelings for you, you know you hurt me ever since you kissed me and then you dated someone I don’t even know, and you didn’t do anything. I care about you, I will always care about you, Kiyo. But the way you’ve been acting is making me confused, and it’s making me hope, and I don’t want to hope because then I’ll get hurt and I—I don’t want to get hurt anymore.”

Sakusa’s face crumpled, stepping closer to you, “[name], I—”

“I’m not done,” you shake your head, you feel tears well up, and you hate how you were so emotional, “I should really hate you by now because of how it feels like you’ve been playing me. But I know you’re not that type of person. I know you. I understand you. So I try to rationalize what you’ve been doing, so it makes sense. Because you don’t make sense—”

“I love you, [name],” Sakusa cuts you off. He takes your hands and holds them properly to intertwine it with his as he looks down at you, hoping you could see the sincerity in his gaze, “I love you,” he repeats.

You were now rendered speechless. A kind of speechlessness you had never experienced before. And Sakusa has rendered you speechless countless times. I love you. He said. To you.

“I’ve loved you for a while now, but I’ve never dared to admit it to you. It’s my fault for being a coward. For not being brave enough to fight for you as much as you have fought for me,” Sakusa didn’t for one second cease to look at you straight in the eye as he confessed. “I lied. About dating someone. About wanting you to date other people. Because I convinced myself that I’m not supposed to want you. You’re Atsumu’s little sister. You’re not someone I’m supposed to want. But I do. I’m tired of lying to myself, I’m tired of lying to you.”

Sakusa was rambling. You were the rambler, not Sakusa. And somehow you still ended up like this.

“But I understand if I’m too late. I understand if you realized you’re better off with someone braver. And it’s okay for you to hate me, I deserve it. But can you still let me be around you? Because I don’t think I can live without knowing you’re okay,” you felt the tremor in Sakusa’s hands that were holding tightly onto yours.

“I know I’m being selfish, and I should let you be. But I really don’t think that I can. I tried pushing you away, and look how that turned out? All these years I’ve wasted because I refused to admit that you have me. You’ve always had me, [name]. There was never anyone else. Because there was no one else who could make me feel the way you do,” Sakusa’s eyes were turning glassy. Yours were already blurry.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. I don’t deserve you, I really don’t. But I love you. I love you so much—”

Sakusa rambles on, and you rise on your tiptoes to shut him up with a kiss.

You felt his movements freeze momentarily before he responded to your kiss with fervor. As if he released all these months of pent-up longing onto that kiss. His hands briefly let go of your hands in order to cup your face. You place your hands on his chest and feel the intense beating of his heart.

Sakusa loved you.

It felt unreal. But he was here, kissing you like a man starved, and he had probably used up his words for the rest of the month to confess what he’s been holding in. You had the gall to think of that joke while you were kissing him, so you let out a chuckle and push back, but it was a poor choice. Now you were looking at Sakusa, who was breathing heavily, staring at you as if you were his lifeline, and the only thing you could say was, “You’re so stupid.”

“I am,” Sakusa readily agrees. His lips were plump and moist from your (well-received) assault. He called your name. Your name on his lips still felt unfamiliar, welcomed, but maddening. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

“What do you mean by that?” you ask, hands fisted on his chest.

“I want to make it up to you. I want to show you how much I love you. It wouldn’t be enough compared to what you’ve done for me, but I want you to feel how sincere I am,” Sakusa says, leaning impossibly forward.

“Kiyo, I…” You were trying to form the right words. When you suddenly remember where you were supposed to be right now, your eyes widened, “My appointment!” You ended up exclaiming.

This startles Sakusa. It seems he had also just remembered why he was here in the first place. He checked his watch, you note that it was a familiar stainless steel. “We can still make it in time,” he grabs your hand and walks in a rush to where his car is parked.

He rushes his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the car and making sure you sat down safely.  Even taking his time to put on your seatbelt for you. You were a little out of breath because of the spontaneous run. You watch as Sakusa settles into the driver’s seat. And you couldn’t help but let out fits of laughter.

He looked over at you while starting the engine, amused at you, a smile on his handsome face. You felt like you were right where you were supposed to be.

You felt like you were on cloud nine. That night, when Sakusa dropped you off at your dorm, not before treating you to dinner after a hectic day of touring apartments, he messaged you asking if he could see you again in a few days. It wasn’t long before you settled into a routine. Since you were busy from Monday to Saturday with either school or work taking up your time, Sakusa would pick you up, no matter how late it was, so he could spend some time with you.

You knew he was busy, too. Especially since the album release and the tour announcement. The actual tour wouldn’t begin until a couple of months from now, so he was mostly busy with practice and general admin work. But no matter how busy he was, he made sure to spend at least half of the week with you. You told him that it’s okay if you guys don’t meet as consistently, but he refused. He was almost sulky when you brought it up.

If someone told you a year ago that Sakusa Kiyoomi was clingy, you would have laughed in their face. There was a sudden shift in your dynamic from when you were actively pursuing him, and honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You had become a resident in his apartment, often doing your work on his kitchen counter, with him preparing your favorite food for you. Your roommates, who you gushed about this and made them swear to keep it a secret to their graves (dramatic, really only until you were ready to tell your family, mostly your brothers, about your newfound relationship with Sakusa). Telling them was necessary because if you hadn’t, then they’d just be suspicious of where you go all the time.

Being with Sakusa was everything you could ask for and more. The days when you’re sprawled on his couch reading a book, and he’d sit beside you so you could lie on his lap, were your favorites. There was something domestic about it that tickled your brain and made you sigh in bliss. 

There was only one problem.

He refused to touch you.

Okay, not refusing to touch you in general, but refusing to touch you in a way that is more than a peck on the lips, holding your hand, or giving you a five-second hug. His reasoning made you question if you were the one in the wrong.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m only pursuing you because I’m attracted to you. Until I’ve made it up to you properly, I want to show my love for you beyond physical touch.”

It was very reasonable, sweet, logical, oh-so very much like Sakusa. It’s not like you were touch-starved. But he was your boyfriend now! (He asked properly during your first dinner date, and he brought your favorite flowers you didn’t know he remembered because you mentioned it in passing) Was it so bad for you to want your boyfriend to not act like he was just your personal servant?

Which was why you planned to attack your boyfriend when he least suspects it. Mission: Seduce Sakusa Kiyoomi, or SSK as you liked to abbreviate it, was on the rise. It is a very detailed, five-month, excruciating plan to break down his barriers and make him do the first move. You planned to utilize his upcoming tour, the distance, and his love for you to get what you want.

You were sounding really sad and desperate here, you almost scratched the plan altogether.

“What’s on your mind?” said boyfriend, speaking. You had your head on his shoulder as he worked on something on his laptop. 

“Nothing,” you hum happily, while flipping the page of the book you were reading.

“Your ‘nothing’ sounds suspicious,” Sakusa comments, shaking his head before typing something on his keyboard.

“It’s really nothing,” you laugh. He stops what he was doing to give you a featherlight kiss on your forehead.

“Hm, I’ll miss you,” he says. Your boyfriend was so sweet that you almost felt bad that all you could think about was your plan against him. But wait, it wasn’t really against him if it benefits him too, right?

“I’ll be right with you before you leave and go to the airport,” you smile up at him. Sakusa’s first concert happened a week ago, and now they are preparing to go to their first country for their second concert. It would be a while before he comes back again, but you were prepared for it. It seems like he was the one who wasn’t prepared with the way he frowned at you.

You reach a hand up to cup his cheek. Your usually stoic boyfriend could be so cute sometimes. “You’ll see me for our trip.”

You had booked a vacation at a resort in Bali, meaning Sakusa had booked you two a vacation in Bali as a graduation gift. You two booked it during the two-week-long break he had near your graduation date. He wouldn’t be able to be there for your actual graduation, so he wanted to at least celebrate it with you. You told your parents about your relationship a while back, but you still hadn’t told your brothers. They—specifically Atsumu—were the headache, you would tell Osamu if you hadn’t known he would tell Atsumu in a flash, their twin pact or whatever.

“That’s five months away,” Sakusa’s brows furrowed, “I won’t be able to see you for five months.” He emphasized as if you hadn’t heard for the first time.

You pat his cheek, “You’ll live.” You had no remorse. You don’t know why you were so nervous around him before.

Sakusa leans in and gives you a peck on your lips. You become bolder and lower your arm from his cheek to his nape so you can deepen the kiss. He pulls away before it can go any further.

That’s it. Mission: SSK was to be enacted as soon as possible.

Sakusa Kiyoomi missed you so much it hurt. Touring had always been exhilarating. Being out on the road and meeting fans was always a treat. But it didn’t compare to having you near, curling up next to him in his apartment.

He was counting down the days until he could fly to you. You still messaged when you can, with you sending a picture of what you had been doing. It was either you were at your dorm, the library, or a café. He had given you spare keys to his apartment in case you wanted to go there. Sometimes it would take you a while to respond to each other, and it was understandable because of the difference in time zones and constant jetlag Sakusa was subjected to. That doesn’t mean he hated the distance any less.

His cousin Rika was left with the brunt of a moody Sakusa. At first, she tried to appease him by bringing him the coffee he liked, but when that didn’t work, she gave up and just let him be broody. It wasn’t like she could do anything when the only thing that could lift his mood was seeing you. Hearing your voice. Hadn’t heard your voice for weeks. You were always too busy to call. Then you would send a picture of your pouty face, which made Sakusa miss you more.

It felt like he was living on your picture updates. You were always so cute with you sending him your outfits of the day, you even tried making him feel involved in the few times you were both online at the same time, and made him choose your outfits with you.

Then you started sleeping over at his apartment. You could be such a tease sometimes when you send a picture of yourself sleeping on his bed with one of his shirts on, and he was a thousand miles away. It was torture.

So there was nothing that could keep you away from him once you were in Bali.

Nothing except you, yourself, apparently.

You had greeted him as usual when he picked you up from the airport. But instead of a hug, he was greeted with you telling him how you were so excited to go to the beach. He had brushed it off, thinking perhaps you really were just excited. But he had been longing for you for months on end, and all he wanted was to keep you close to him. You had talked his ear off all the way to your destination, and Sakusa was content with being in your presence again.

You arrived at the hotel, and the matter of your room was easy to sort. Soon enough, you were sighing in relief at the comfort of a bed to lie in. From your position on the bed, you use your elbows to lean up, “I’m surprised you didn’t switch us to a two-bed suite at the last minute,” you say with a hint of bitterness.

Sakusa sat next to you, reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear, “Is that what you wanted?” Sakusa asked seriously.

You looked at him deadpan, “Of course not.”

Sakusa let out a small laugh and leaned in to give you a small kiss. He was stopped by your hand over his lips. He blinked. 

“Let’s go swim, I’ll change into my swimsuit.” You say in a hurry, sliding away from the bed and rummaging through your suitcase.

Sakusa stared at you curiously, wondering what he did to make you act so jumpy around him. He hadn’t remembered doing anything to cause you distress. Before he could call you out on your behavior, you find your swimsuit and run to the bathroom.

Sakusa shakes his head at your antics. A turning of a knob earned his attention. He was going to scold you as soon as you stepped out of the bathroom. As soon as… You stepped out of the… bathroom. 

“You like what you see?” You tease, noticing his stare when you open the door. You made an arrogant gesture toward your figure, where your swimsuit complimented your assets.

Sakusa blinked, only once, brain melting. You were killing him.

Seeing as how Sakusa’s brain was buffering, you walk toward him. And to make matters worse, you wrap your arms around his nape, standing between his legs, “Hello? Earth to Kiyo?”

He looks up at you, completely at your mercy, “You broke my brain,” he confesses.

You scrunched your nose, “Really?” You leaned in until you were centimeters away from his face, “Do you want to kiss me?” you uttered.

“You’re the one who didn’t let me kiss you earlier,” Sakusa points out, wetting his lips.

“I’m letting you kiss me now,” you say. Sakusa smiles before closing the gap between you two and giving you a slow, languid kiss.

Sakusa pulls back before he could lose his self-control, “Wanna go to the beach now?”

“Are you serious?” Your face falls, and you let go of your hold on his nape. You looked clearly upset, and Sakusa was confused about what he had done wrong. You were in distress, beginning to pace right in front of him, muttering something about “months of that” “thick head” and “sexual appeal”. Sakusa was completely lost.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he tries to soothe you, reaching for your arm.

“You,” you said with so much venom, glaring at him. Pointing a finger at his chest

“Me,” Sakusa nods, still lost.

“You won’t touch me!” you finally shout in frustration. Leaning your head back and groaning, “Ugh! Why won’t you touch me? Now I sound all needy and horny, and it’s your fault!” You were flaring up and looking absolutely gorgeous in Sakusa’s eyes again.

Sakusa stands up, and you barely notice because you were going on your cute tangent. Sakusa places his hands on the side of your hips. This is what catches your attention. You lock eyes with him, he grips your hips firmly but gently, then makes you sit on the bed. He kneeled before you, right between your legs.

“Whoa, wait, I’m not mentally ready.” Your eyes grow wide at his position between your legs, the change of dynamic making you feel unprepared.

“You’re so naughty,” Sakusa watched as your eyes dilated at his words. He was learning interesting things about you. One of his hands falls to your calf, and he runs a teasing caress up your leg. He watched as you gulped, mouth falling open, and he let go. He watches as you frown at the loss of his touch, “I told you I wanted to show you my sincerity to you first.”

You nod furiously, those expressive eyes of yours tempting him, “You have. I’m very convinced.”

Sakusa stands up, looks up at the ceiling, and calls on every Saint he could think of before looking down at you. That was a bad idea. You were already looking up at him, leaning back using your arms to support you on the bed, chest heaving, legs still slightly parted, all in your cute little swimsuit. You had to know what you were doing to him, right? “You are… impossible.”

“I think you love my impossibility,” you reach for his hand, and place it on your cheek. You lean into his palm, you nibble on your lower lip, all while maintaining eye contact. You were going to be the death of him.

His thumb plays with your lower lip, pushing into the plumpness, “I’m not that good at expressing my feelings, I’m still learning,” he starts. Then you startle when he nudges your shoulder using his free hand, you let out a small squeak as your back falls onto the mattress, “I tend to relay affection in a straightforward, offhand manner.”

You startle again when he hooks an arm under one of your legs to push you further into the bed and make room for him between your legs, which were hooked on the edge of the bed. “It’s because that’s just how I feel,” he inhales deeply.

He loomed over you until your face was inches away from him again. “When I say I love you,” he places a gentle kiss on your lips, “I miss you,” another soft kiss, “I wish you were here with me,” this kiss lasted for more than a second, “It’s all pure honesty.”

One of his hands gripped your waist, “You have a way of making me feel comfortable,” he started going down, placing a gentle kiss on your jaw. “Of making me want more of you,” he places a kiss on your neck, biting the soft skin. You let out a soft sigh, thrusting out your chest. Sakusa’s hand, which was gripping your waist, splayed on your stomach, caressing your stomach from your navel up to your lower bust.

Soon, his kiss was between your breasts, and his hands wandered down to the edge of your swimsuit, “Because I want to be the person you run to for good and bad news.” He goes lower, “The person you’d want to paint walls with…” and lower, “Pick furniture, and try new hobbies. I want to be your person.” He stopped where you ached the most, and he was back kneeling before you, hands on your thighs.

He looked up at you, your eyes were filled with so much want for him, and he swore he looked the same. Sakusa wanted to please you, and he was aching so much, but he had to have patience.

“Kiyo, I want you to kiss me,” you whine out. He places a large hand on your stomach so you stay put.

“No, not until I’m finished with you.” He hated to be harsh on you. He wanted to kiss you badly, but he might forget what he was doing altogether if he had done that too early, “You wanted me to touch you, right?”

“Shit.” You gasp out, “Mission: SSK is a success, then.”

“Mission what?”

“Nothing.”

“I think [name]’s seeing someone,” Atsumu says thoughtlessly, as they were playing cards in Atsumu’s penthouse, just the four of them. Two evenings before, they were celebrating the end of their tour. Which Sakusa was grateful for, because it meant he would be able to see you regularly again. He was already feeling pissy during their final concert back in Japan, because he was back in the same country as you, but he still couldn’t go see you because he had so much to prepare for.

He knew you were watching him the whole concert, but he was surprised when he got home to his apartment, and you were already there. Sakusa considered it the only surprise he welcomed with open arms. 

Sakusa had spent two whole blissful days with you—almost two whole days, since you still had work, he had done you a courtesy and stayed at your newly rented apartment this time. He had finally been given a break.

Atsumu invited him, Akaashi, and Suna for a casual night. A sort of tradition now, after the end of a tour, no matter what scale, they would meet up a few days after and just relax. Tonight, the agenda was a game of cards.

“You’re meddling again,” Suna says, putting down a card.

“I’m just curious. She never tells me anything anymore,” Atsumu grumbles, taking a sip of his beer. “I genuinely think she’s seeing someone right now.” Sakusa, the person Atsumu’s sister is seeing right now (and hopefully forever), remained nonchalant, and casually, he adds to the conversation, “It’s me.”

Atsumu’s head turns to him, tilting to the side, “Hah? What about you?”

“I love [name],” Sakusa drops the bomb. Atsumu freezes. Suna freezes. Even Akaashi tunes in.

“Excuse me?” Atsumu shoves a finger in his ear, thinking he heard Sakusa wrong.

“I’m in love with [name],” Sakusa repeats with the same amount of conviction.

“[name]?” Atsumu was buffering. Sakusa understood, to some extent, but he didn’t care if he got angry anymore. He was still going to be his best friend. Atsumu can’t do anything about it.

“Your sister,” Sakusa says, starting to lose a bit of patience.

Suna was looking amused, holding a fist to his mouth, cards forgotten. Sakusa watched as Suna pulled out his phone and began rapidly pressing it. Texting someone. Akaashi was looking between Sakusa and Atsumu wearily, as if ready to step in if a fight broke out.

“You’re what with my sister?” Atsumu’s voice rises, nostrils flaring. His arms sweep dramatically to the side.

“I’m in love with her. We’re dating.” Sakusa said, composure intact. Since he was ready for whatever Atsumu hit him with, his fist, or maybe a chair. He was ready. 

Atsumu fisted the collar of Sakusa’s shirt, and Sakusa braced for impact.

Sakusa was recalling this story to you while you were fixing up a cold compress for his black eye. You were sitting on the sink counter, so you could be at eye level with him. He was at your apartment, this time because he was supposed to help you set up the new couch you bought, when you saw his condition and worriedly asked about what had happened to him. He still had to crouch a bit so you could comfortably dote on him. You were laughing as you did, biting your lip as if that would help you stop howling, “My poor Kiyo,” you coo, but you were still laughing.

You were laughing so much, Sakusa thought he didn’t mind being the butt of the joke. You lift the cold compress and place a kiss on his eye. Sakusa lets out a small smile, “He won’t bother us now, he got to punch me.”

You shake your head, fits of giggles not stopping, “I’ll kiss it better.”

“Hm?” Sakusa shows interest. “My lips hurt too.” He points to his perfectly fine lips.

“Sure,” you say, putting down the cold compress and giving him a kiss. Eager, Sakusa pushes into the kiss. You were reminded of what happened and laughed. The kiss became an accidental mesh of lip and teeth. Sakusa was relentless, getting back into rhythm. You had to place your hands on his chest to pull back so you could breathe, “Hey. Starved much. Are you that attracted to me?” you murmur against his lips.

Sakusa’s hand squeezes your waist, “Better, I’m in love with you,” he says, hand raising to your cheek, and makes you part your lips to kiss you deeper.

[name]┃kiyo’s future wife (real) @kiyominiscient i told you guys i was kiyo’s future wife #neverdoubtedit #respectmyname [attached picture of sakusa kiyoomi kissing your cheek]

@kiyominiscient quotes @Distanse

Distanse @Distanse Bassist of IKARUS SAKUSA KIYOOMI hard launches girlfriend—fellow bandmate MIYA ATSUMU’s sister, Miya [Name] 7:00 PM · Sept 17, 20XX

9:05 PM · Sept 17, 20XX

atsumu @miyatsumu Replying to @kiyominiscient for the sake of my mental health this is ai 9:15 PM · Sept 17, 20XX

leia @keijisrealgf · 36m Replying to @kiyominiscient OOMF DISAPPEARS AND COMES BACK WITH TEA WTH???????? 9:10 PM · Sept 17, 20XX

keiko @miyatsumulover143 Replying to @kiyominiscient hello sister in law can u share some tips 9:15 PM · Sept 17, 20XX

a/n — i’m a firm believer that sakusa’s not nonchalant. he’s just socially awkward. the last quarter is basically just fanservice bc ily guys lolol. i hope u guys enjoyed it fr tho i didnt study for this (dont feel bad im lazy and couldnt focus without finishing this)

yk guys after all this time i js realized i never shared the ikarus incident playlist ! this is what i usually listen to while writing the fics hehe. atsumu next wink wink.

Kiyoomi Sakusa hates parties. 

Too many people. 

Too loud. 

Too many germs. 

It’s why he almost always declines to go to one whenever the rest of the MSBY team invites him along. 

Parties in any shape and form make him uncomfortable, to be honest. 

But what Sakusa hates more than parties themselves—is the idea of you going to one on your own without him there. 

Not that he doesn’t trust you. 

But it’s that he knows how volleyball players are at parties—especially when there’s a pretty girl and alcohol is involved. 

Hence, the reason why he finds himself at a house party tonight that Atsumu invited the two of you to—while he stands away from everyone else, mask on, and holding a drink that he’s taken maybe one or two sips from. 

Not because he wants to but—

But because there you are—in the crowd, giggling and drinking with a few other people—and he watches with a level of affection, only ever giving any other guy who even dares to touch you a single look that causes the hairs at the back of their neck to rise. 

He talks to a few friends here and there, laughs, and takes another drink to loosen up as much as he’s willing to allow himself, but his eyes remain on you—

Almost protective. 

He raises a brow when he notices you walking over to him—but all you do is grin, eyes droopy, as your lower lip gets pinched under your top teeth, and—

Oh. 

He lets out a huff of breath filled with amusement when he sees you bat your lashes at him, giving him a certain look that he knows too well whenever you have alcohol in your system. 

A look of want—need—with your eyes so murky with desire that if you looked at any other man like that, they’d probably take you to the nearest surface to bend you over and—

Well, you get the point. 

Sakusa turns to face you—looking down at you with a tease in his voice. “The alcohol already gotten to that pretty little brain of yours?” 

Your eyes grow alight with want, and your cheeks flush as you get closer to him to wrap your arms around his waist—and a pout adorns your red lips. “I’m only a little tipsy.” 

That’s a lie. 

He can see that right away with how foggy your eyes are and how red your cheeks are. 

You’re more than just a little tipsy. 

Not that he minds, though. 

In fact, he’s letting out a breath of relief as he holds you back with one arm, the other still holding his drink, and he lowers his head so only you can hear him—his voice coming out a low rumble, “Let’s go then, love.” 

Because whenever you’re like this—it gives him an excuse to leave. 

To go home and take care of you in a way that he knows what you need right now. 

You nod, eager, excitement shooting up your nerves as he guides you through crowds of people—him saying bye to those he gives a shit about, and—

And that’s how, about an hour later, you end up back at his apartment—his bedroom door locked—as your body sinks into his plush mattress, one of your hands carding through his silk-softened hair that’s nestled between your thighs. 

“Fuck—”

You suck in a shaky breath as a flat tongue runs from your entrance to your clit, and you whine as Sakusa hooks his arms under your thighs to bring your pussy flush against his mouth—his mask thrown off somewhere in the midst of you two kissing so deeply on your way here—and he spits on your clit, making your cunt pulse. 

“You’re always so wet when you drink,” Sakusa groans against you, his mouth covering your entire pussy as his jaw goes to work, sucking and eating you out like he's starved. 

Just the way you like it when you’re this tipsy—the alcohol making you pleasantly warm, mixed with how his tongue and mouth feel on you.

It’s like you’re drowning in a pool of liquid heat as he makes out with your cunt, his tongue dipping in and running through your pillowy folds, and all you can do is lay there and take it with your toes curling and your fingers digging in his hair. 

It’s funny when you really think about it.

One would think that he—of all people—would be against this. 

Grossed out by it, even. 

But he’s the complete opposite with you in bed and behind closed doors.

He’s fucking dirty—uncaring of how messy he gets as your fluids gush onto his face as he fucks you with his tongue, eating your pussy and licking your clit like it’s honey. 

He even likes it more when you’re fucking yourself back—riding his face—making his eyes roll back, eyebrows furrowed, and a groan being muffled against your soft pussy. 

He doesn’t care about the way his chin gets drenched from your juices—not when it means he can hear you moan so pretty for him, and feel your plush thighs squeeze around his head. 

He’s so intoxicated by having his hot tongue in your cunt that he finds himself growing light-headed—his bulge growing and pre-cum leaking against his sweatpants as he licks and licks until you’re cumming on his tongue, moaning his name as you buck your hips into his face. 

“Oh god—Omi, ‘ts too much now—”

He hears you. 

Loud and clear. 

But he doesn’t stop. 

He doesn’t stop giving your poor, puffy little clit kitten licks as your cry from overstimulation. 

He doesn’t stop holding onto your thighs right where they are—keeping your pussy close to his mouth so he can lap you up, not wanting to waste a single drop of your fluids drooling everywhere. 

“You’re okay,” His voice is rough, and his eyes move up to look at your body—taking in the way your chest is rising and falling with quick breaths, your nipples are hard and waiting to also be sucked on—and he gives your sopping cunt one long, wide glide of his wet tongue from bottom to top. “Just give me one more, baby. Just one.” 

Instead, it’s never only one more. 

Once he’s in this position with his stomach flat on the bed and comfortably lying in between your legs—

Sakusa doesn’t intend to stop anytime soon. 

You taste too fucking good.

You feel too warm. 

And you sound so damn needy and pretty for him.

You whine, a sob escaping you, and you shake your head. “Omi—please—”

But then your words die with a gasp when you feel him nip the curve of the skin of where your cunt and inner thigh meet—and you let out a ragged exhale, his voice thick and smooth as he kisses your thigh. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” You feel so dizzy from the heat that you throw an arm over your forehead, panting as you feel two of his fingers strum your dripping folds before spreading them apart, glistening and throbbing. “You know I can’t help it.” 

He doesn’t let you say anything else, though. 

Not when he immediately dives back in to prod his tongue into your tight walls, flexing and curling it to bring you back to that hot, buzzing ache in your belly. 

And he keeps your folds open for him to get drunk on—sucking and licking and nipping while his nose bumps against your clit, feeling his hairs tickle your thighs as he gets you to orgasm again. 

And again. 

And again—

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Omi!” 

He gets his tongue all worked up, mouth open and thumb rubbing your swollen clit until you’re cumming for the fourth time like this—fluids squirting on his face as your abused and soaked cunt spasms, his name on your tongue as you cry, and he drinks it all up like he’s needy for your taste. 

“Such a good pussy, baby,” Sakusa sucks on your clit with obscene suction noises, making tears stream down your cheeks as a few more spurts of liquid squirt out of you—you’re so fucking overstimulated—and his face is a mess at this point, too. 

When he eventually does pull away—his lips are swollen and shiny—you don’t even have it in you to force your limbs to move anymore. 

You’re so fucked out and he hasn’t even put his cock inside you yet.

“You took it all so well for me.” 

Sakusa looks down at your body—so sweet and perfect—and he can’t help but smile at the little mess he’s made between your legs. 

He then unties the strings to his sweatpants as he sits back on his knees, his dick throbbing to feel your pussy swallow him, and once his thick cock bounces free—

He gives your pussy a slap—his palm against it with a harsh sting—making you whimper, then cups his hand over you as some way to soothe your tired cunt. 

“I just need you to lie there and be pretty for me now, okay baby?” 

end.