[jane lynch voice] i am going to create a fake wedding date bf!sakusa that is so boyfriend
you decided to visit your sister before the ceremony, even though she didn't invite you to be a part of her bridal party in favor of her sorority sisters that she was "just closer with, ya know?" it wasn't a bad idea, initially. but, ever the detective of things that will draw attention away from her, she zeroes in on you when you walk in on the arm of your date.
your sister has a death grip on your arm before you can speak, yanking you into the nearest quiet corner and away from your incredibly concerned, incredibly attractive man for the evening. you whisper reassurances that you're fine but not before his hand flies out to catch you after you nearly trip on the train of her dress. perks of bringing a volleyball player as your date: his reflexes won't ever let you fall. you're careful not to step on her bulbous, pristinely white dress because, as funny as it would be, it would make your situation so much worse if she decided to scream at you.
"are you fucking kidding me?"
you put on your best face of innocence and hope for the best. "i have no idea what you're talking about." she points an accusatory finger at your tall, muscled, suit-clad coworker currently plastered with a fake smile as he feeds your eager parents lies about your relationship. he sneaks a glance at you and meets your eyes, subtly raising a single sharp eyebrow in question. you okay? you nod, drawing your face into a tight expression and rolling your eyes that has him quirking the corner of his pretty mouth. he was really beautiful and you think that's why your sister is so enraged.
"you said you were able to find a date."
"and i did?" you raise your eyebrows at her skeptically. maybe it was okay to gaslight her a little bit, for your own sanity. she'd definitely done her fair share to you growing up. bride or not, she was still your sister. "is that not what you wanted me to do?"
"i didn't want you to bring someone from work," she hisses, grip on your arm becoming slightly painful as she sinks her gel-polished nails into your flesh. "do you know how many people are gonna be paying attention to your stupid fucking olympian boyfriend instead of me?" your mouth falls open in shock. that's what she's worried about?
"i'm not trying to upstage you on your day, big sis, really." you try to patch up her panic and wrath while also suppressing your laughter. "we'll sit in the back and keep to ourselves. i'm not part of your bridal party, so no one should think twice about your relationship to me anyways." she ponders this idea for a moment and then humphs, satisfied with your answer and finally releasing your arm.
in a matter of seconds, he's politely excusing himself from your parents and at your side, gently taking your forearm in his hands as you regretfully rub the nail-marks imprinted on your skin. his thumb leaves goosebumps where it runs over the little cuts left by your attention-hungry sister.
"you sure?" his dark eyes are soft with concern and you want to kiss him right there. "i know a good sports medic that can check these out for you," he jokes, the medic being you and the sports part being the black jackals.
"mhmm. let's go sit down." he laces his fingers in yours as naturally as if you were actually dating and you have to constantly remind yourself that he is, in fact, not actually your boyfriend.
it was a miracle you were able to convince him in the first place and you found it a little amusing that he volunteered himself to go after you said you would ask bokuto and atsumu if he said no. you walked an odd line with kiyoomi, sometimes, between friends and more than friends but never actually talking about your feelings. as such, you asked him about three million times if he was sure that he wanted to go with you and only stopped asking after he said he looked forward to it. when you asked him if he was looking forward to the wedding itself, he gave you a perplexing answer: not necessarily.
you sit down in the garden where the ceremony will take place at the very back corner, under the shade of some blooming trees. the flowers are beautiful, vibrant shades of purple cascading down from the branches in tiny rosettes. your hand doesn't leave kiyoomi's even after you have a seat mostly because he doesn't let you, resting your hand in his on his lean thigh. at some point and to your disappointment, he lets go of your hand, but you're pleasantly surprised to see he doesn't go far as he shrugs off his suit jacket and stretches his arm around your shoulders. you lean into him, feeling the crisp fabric of his buttonup on the exposed back of your clothes and his fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes on your bare skin.
"i don't think they're going to be a good fit for each other," he whispers in your ear and you have to bite your fist to keep from laughing at his brutal honesty. you start to tear up from the hilarity of the moment, laughing in the middle of your sister's wedding, and you look over to see him biting his lip in suppressed chuckles too. his fingers pick some stray flower petals from your hair.
"omi, you can't just say things like that." your gaze flicks to meet his and you're grateful you're sitting because he's looking at you so intensely that it would have your knees dropping from under you otherwise. "but...you're not wrong." he gives you a rare smirk and you feel your face start to burn a little bit.
after the ceremony, his suit jacket remains off and you have to stop yourself from drooling when he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, draping his jacket on one arm and holding your waist possessively with the other. every time he did something different or something that you didn't ask him to do, he's asking for permission in your ear and it takes all of your willpower not to scream at him that he could do anything he wanted to you man has you absolutely WHIPPED. your hand finds a place on his chest when you talk about him to your friends or relatives that approach you to make small-talk and ogle your date. at one point, you think his heart starts to beat a little faster when you look at him and smile, your faces so close you could feel each other's breath. however, no matter how many eyes are on him, the only person kiyoomi ever looks at is you.
the dinner reception takes place outdoors and you unconsciously cross your legs from the sudden chill. he notices because of course he does and wordlessly drapes his jacket over your shoulders, humming in assent when you quietly thank him. his strong hand is still in yours whenever you're not eating; when he gets tired of letting go and retaking your hand while you're clapping during speeches, his palm finds the bare skin of your thigh and rubs maddeningly loving circles on it.
after the first dance between the newlyweds, your father is stealing you away for a song to ask you about omi and when your wedding would be. when the interrogation gets to be a little too overwhelming, you shoot your date a look and he's standing in a blink, gracefully walking over to you and taking you from your father as the song ends. he doesn't lead you off the dance floor, instead positioning your hand in his and guiding the other to rest on his shoulder while his holds your waist. you admire how handsome he is at this proximity, brushing a stray curl from his face and tracing the two moles above his eye with your finger. when he speaks, his voice is low and doting.
"i am." you beam at him and receive a soft smile in return, the equivalent of omi grinning. "thank you for agreeing to being my fake boyfriend for the night."
"you're going to need to walk me through the rest of this process, by the way."
"mhmm." his eyes are shining with something like mischief and it makes your heart skip a few beats. maybe it's the heels or maybe it's how fucking beautiful his face glows in the soft light, but you can barely keep your voice steady and your legs are already threatening to give out.
"well, how does one get promoted from fake boyfriend to actual boyfriend?" your mouth falls open in disbelief and, after he gives you a few moments to process what he said, his face comes dangerously close to you so that all you see, feel, hear, and smell is him. "may i?"
you nod and then all you could taste is him, too. his kiss is sweet and gentle and furiously leaves you wanting more. he promises to take you on a proper first date when he pulls away enough to talk but you're too much of a smiling mess to form coherent thoughts. his eyes give away that he's a smiling mess on the inside, too.
"i'm always happy when i'm with you, even if it doesn't show."
"can i ask what's got you so love-struck all of a sudden?"
"i just think it's a little funny that we're starting at the ending." your lips form a single oh of understanding at what he means by "the ending." you look around at "the ending," the dresses, the buffet, the dancing, the laughing, the cake, the speeches.
"and do you want this ending? with me?"
"i want you to take a wild guess," is all he says before he's kissing you so fervently again that you'd be a fool not to understand his answer.
this was not supposed to be this long but i think it's one of my favorite things i've written of all time now so i really hope you enjoyed it!
likes/reblogs/feedback are always appreciated <3
