growing up, he’s always been the brother to fight off the bugs, bullies and creepy bedtime stories for osamu, and even at school, he was the one who made sure to keep all the older kids from mistreating the both of them— even if that did eventually earn him the very bitter reputation he had of being … an asshole.
but still — if you ask osamu yourself, ( he’d deny it at first ) he’d say something along the lines of how lame and uncool his twin brother is, but you’d both know anyways that there is a truth in it.
atsumu isn’t scared of anything — he doesn’t get scared of losing, he doesn’t get scared of bugs or getting hurt or creepy ghost stories — and that’s always been something he’s prided himself of.
but apparently, he was wrong.
“so, remind me again how long this trip is gonna be.”
atsumu smiles, watching from the foot of the bed as you pack away your clothes in a small luggage bag.
it’s a slow sunday, a nice, peaceful day mostly spent in bed (courtesy of atsumu not allowing you to get up before him) with the soft drizzle of rain perfectly setting a tone in the atmosphere.
it’s almost evening now, a few minutes ‘til six, and with the continuous ‘tap-tap-tap’ing of raindrops on your bedroom window, you’re reminded of the possibilities that it might rain tomorrow too.
“it’s two days — and barely a trip.” you don’t look up from the pile of clothes you’re sorting, “you can live without me for two days.”
atsumu snorts, rolling his eyes just as he throws a pillow in your direction, this being the second time he’s done this today.
it’s a college trip you’re going to — with two whole days headed off to another part of japan for your class’s research studies — and you can’t help but be plain excited for it.
( when you first told atsumu about it, he seemed almost as excited as you were, right off the bat offering to pack your bags for you and made you a shopping list of all the things you’d need for a trip. )
you look at him as you fold clothes, “do not throw a party while i’m gone.”
“i throw the best parties.” atsumu scoffs, his head falling back onto the bed as his legs dangle off the side.
and you say, completely ignoring him, “don’t forget to feed the cat.”
“i feed the cat all the time.” he scoffs harder, “i have never seen you feed him.”
your eyes crinkle, amused at the specific tone he’s taking with you.
“if anything i should be the one telling ya these things.” he frowns, continuing his moping, “yer a horrible person to be married to.”
and you wave him off, laughing as you continue to pack, “such a whiny boy.”
he was so excited when you first mentioned you were going on a field trip and a few hours later, he came barging into the room, eyebrows furrowed and all, yelling, “i just realized you’re leaving me here!”
“are you just gonna lay there?” you smile, a laugh almost intertwining with your words as you look at him; eyes closed, laid back and all.
atsumu peaks open an eye, “i’m not gonna help you pack away to leave me.”
you roll your eyes, anyone who’s ever said to you that atsumu miya is too intimidating in court should see how he acts around you.
“it’s a field trip.” you laugh.
and he frowns, “away from me.”
you run your fingers through his hair, “only one of the few reasons why i’m going.”
“wow,” and he tells you, smiling, heart in his eyes, “you’re going to have a terrible time.”
you fake a gasp, pushing him away as you stifle a laugh — “do not jinx my trip!”
and that’s how most of the afternoon goes.
you and atsumu spend a few more minutes here and there all over the place — both packing and bickering over and over again that it became a surprise to both of you that the rain was finally stopping.
the packing was taking longer than it normally takes you, but then again, that’s not really your fault.
you’re pretty sure that if anyone else in the world was married to atsumu miya, then they’d know that doing anything with him would take more than it usually would.
“oh — ouch.” you curse under your breath.
from afar, you see atsumu perk up, his attention easily leaving the pile of books he was moving around and immediately on to you and the sound you just made.
your shoulder hit the cabinet edge, obviously a lot sharper than either of you’d known, causing just enough of a scratch to show on your skin.
“what is it?” atsumu’s by your side as quick as he could be, his carefree demeanor nowhere to be found, “what happened?”
“it’s nothing,” you wave him off, keeping your hand on the wound to alleviate some of the stinging, “just a scratch.”
he doesn’t really look better off with that answer, in any case, he looks more worried now that you won’t show him.
atsumu tilts his head slightly, “let me see.”
“it’s just a scratch, tsum.” you show him where it hurts, moving your hand slightly to the side as he steps closer to you — “see, i’m okay.”
he touches your arm, and you notice that it’s not like how he usually touches you, he’s … gentler this time … like he’s scared to make it worse.
atsumu’s always been like this. whether it was a scratch or a bruise or a really irritating bug bite that won’t go away, he’s always been more worried for you than anyone ever has.
and ironically for him, he just about married the clumsiest person in the entire world.
“this is the second one in two days ya know.” his eyebrows furrow, walking away from you to get fresh bandaids from the bathroom.
“yeah but,” you try not to roll your eyes too much, and with a dismissing smile on your face, you call out, “the other one’s practically gone already.”
atsumu comes back not a minute later, green box of hello kitty band-aids in hand as he sits you on the bed.
“ye’r going on a trip three hours away from here for two days.” he scoffs loudly, “will it kill ya to be a little more careful?”
“ok - i’m sorry - i promise to be careful.” you purse your lips, shoulders falling down slightly.
he puts the bandaid on your shoulder as you speak.
“but only if you give me another hello kitty bandaid for my other arm.”
he stops putting the bandaid on your shoulder.
“you don’t have anything on the other arm.” atsumu narrows his eyes.
“yeah, but the bandaids are so pretty, and i want both my arms to match.”
“they’re pretty because they’re expensive, and we aren’t wasting them.”
“oh okay, so i lied,” you smile, “i actually do have a wound on my other arm, it requires a bandaid right now — please — atsumu — stop walking away —”
that whole ‘fearless’ crap he was going on and on about his whole life, turns out all he needed to do was meet you to be faced with all the reasons he should be scared all this time.
because ever since he’s met you — you have done nothing but made him nervous, worried, anxious and everything in between.
you scare him.
everytime you walk into a table or trip on your feet or end up with a new cut on your finger… it makes him worry… and that’s something he never thought he could feel for anyone.
it took him weeks to get up the courage to actually speak to you and even then, it took him longer to actually ask you out, so when he found out you were going to college miles and miles away from him, he didn’t talk to you for two weeks straight.
and as you may recall, after those two weeks, the idiot atsumu miya is, the first words he said to you again was “will you marry me?” and “no, i am so not crying.”
and now …
well, now, he wakes up everyday, married at twenty years old, and walks you to your station for school every morning.
it turns out that fear of his for you was a good thing after all — because it brought him realization that it’s a miracle that you love him almost as much as he loves you.
“you wanna try and fit in my luggage bag again to see if i can bring you with me?” you give him a teasing smile.
atsumu rolls his eyes, “you just wanna take pictures of me in the bag to send to samu — which i know you’ve been doing by the way!”
“you have zero proof that i’ve been sending your photos to samu.” you scoff, turning your head away as you cross your arms over your chest.
and he laughs, though trying his best to keep his features tight, “what? they just magically appear in the family group chat for no reason then?”
“maybe it was the cat.” you scoff, “you blame me all the time — why can’t it be the cat?”
“it was not the cat.”
“it could very much be the cat.”
thunder strikes, and the drizzle of rain becomes faster than what it originally was.
your bags have been packed, and for a two-day trip to a city not that far away, even you yourself can admit that maybe, you have your own reservations for it as well.
you’re still standing by your bed, atsumu on the side close to you, checking through your things one by one to make sure you’re not forgetting anything important.
“i can always not go, you know.” you smile, and atsumu perks up, though you pretend not to notice.
“i can stay here with you, and the cat.” you try not to look as excited as you are, “forty eight hours, just us.”
ever since the second semester stated and atsumu’s team busier than ever, it’s hard to recall the last time the two of you spent that much time alone together.
“are ya kidding?” atsumu turns around to look at you, his smile pursing together as he puts a hand on his hip.
“after we’ve packed all of yer stuff for it already?” he takes a step closer, “yer going on that trip.”
your shoulders fall now that he’s only a few feet away from you again, your face slightly tipping upwards to match his gaze, “you just want souvenirs.”
and atsumu nods, his grin intertwining with his words, “lots of chocolate —no white ones— and maybe a new t-shirt, you know my size.”
“anything else?” you indulge him in his jokes.
and he hums, grinning as he’s so close to you now, “hm.”
he puts a hand on the base of your face, smile matching yours.
“what’re you gonna do while i’m away?” your eyes crinkle.
“oh y’know, the usual,” he shrugs, trying not to laugh, “ice skating, sledding, maybe even surf.”
“surfing and skating in the same weather?”
“you never know what could happen in two days.” he closes his eyes as he says, “plus climate change, the world is ending, i’m going to surf and skate while i can.”
and you laugh, shoulders rising, “that’s a lot of things to do.”
atsumu nods, his grin fairly increasing by just a bit as he brings his head closer to yours, his hold on your face falling to your neck to your chest and finally to your hip.
“i know something we can do right now.” he hums, and you laugh and that gets him to chuckle a tiny bit too.
“i have to prepare for the trip tomorrow.” you put your hand on his chest to push him away.
but, atsumu miya, quicker than you, pulls you in closer until the closeness is nothing but gone, his smile melting into yours as he takes you in for a kiss.
he lets the kiss sit for a second, he’s very gentle with you — like he’s taking his time to enjoy it — and he pulls away.
you smile, “i can figure out tomorrow later.”
and atsumu laughs, pulling you into short and quick kisses again before his hands pull you closer, “that is such a good idea.”
he denies that he is, he denies everything that you’ve tried to insinuate, but ever since this morning — ever since you’ve made that offhand comment about moving in together — he’s been all shifty-eyed and panicky.
you initially made that comment as a joke. something to lighten the mood seeing as he’s been so awkward around you recently, but when he acted the way he did, something tells you he definitely received it the wrong way.
its just about seven in the evening, almost closing time for the infamous onigiri miya, and you sit comfortably on one of the tables close to the cashier, laptop in front of you as you prefer working closely to your boyfriend.
it’s almost always been like this — you with your laptop out, typing away whatever you need to be typed, and osamu walking by every thirty minutes with a glass of water or tea or whatever excuse he’s come up with to mingle with you.
but today — the lame excuses for the mingling has stopped.
osamu has barely said anything to you all day, aside from the “hey, you,” and the “ya want anything?”, he’s been completely silent.
“you almost done?” you look up from your laptop screen, calling to him as he’s taken the first time all day to walk to your table.
“hm.” he hums, tired and all, “busy day.”
osamu slumps down on the seat in front of you, the restaurant having been cleared of all the satisfied customers for today, and for the first time, taking his short moments with you.
he looks at you, face propped up with his right hand as he stares.
you look back at him, and he immediately looks away — osamu, pinkish in the face.
this is weird. your boyfriend is acting like a teenager pining for you right now, and whilst that’s not really out of the usual — it’s weird that he’s being so fidgety about it.
“samu,” you push your laptop aside, “is something wrong?”
and he blinks, “ya think something’s wrong?”
considering that he’s been avoiding you all day, has been falling into whispers when he talks to atsumu on the phone, and strategically staring at you when he thinks you aren’t looking — yes. you think something is very wrong.
( atsumu visited the restaurant earlier today, a big smile on his face as he slapped osamu harshly on the back, yelling something about “finally doing something right for once in his life!” and saying “take numerous pictures or yer dead meat.”
but the second they both saw you walk in the room, not only did their faces drop, but you’re also pretty sure osamu stepped on atsumu’s foot once or twice too.
you asked them what they were doing, but all atsumu told you was - in close tears, as he hugs you - “we’re having a brother bonding moment right now. please leave.”
and that was it. )
so yeah, something is very wrong with osamu miya.
“you’re just,” and you smile at him, “acting weird.”
“i am so not!” he scoffs, his own smile coming through as he looks back at you, “you’re the one who’s being weird.”
now, it’s your turn to scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you shake your head, “do not call me weird, i sat here all day watching you be the weirdest person on the planet.”
“well, why were ya watching all day?” he leans forward, “that’s weird behavior if ya ask me.”
you smile, rolling your eyes, “you are twelve years old.”
and osamu leans back, a smile on his face that prides himself of his tone, “that’s what twelve year olds tell each other when they’ve got nothing else to say.”
and you laugh, “this is a very mature conversation we’re having.”
osamu smiles wider, his shoulders slightly raising as a little bit of a laugh escapes his lips, and for a second, he just looks at you, a glint in his eye.
he slides your laptop over to the side, leaning in over the table to be closer to you, and you do the same, following suit with a trail of laughter.
osamu smiles, “i can do something to make it more mature.”
“hm?” you indulge him, shaking your head as you let him put his hand on the base of your face.
he laughs, “hm.”
and he pulls you close — the way he’s been wanting to all day, the way he wanted to all those times he made up stupid excuses to come by your table — and with a smile, he kisses you.
the two of you have been together for a little over four months now, but he’s not gonna lie when he tells you that he’s been in love with you for longer.
the restaurant is empty, the sun has set, and he kisses you, slow and smiley and everything he’s always wanted.
osamu miya is in love with you, and for him, it’s a miracle that you love him too.
he pulls away for a second, voice above a whisper as his nose touches yours, “sorry i was weird all day.”
“yeah,” you smile, “be sorry.”
and he laughs, and he kisses you again, his hand on your face pulling you closer, repositioning his head every now and then to get a new angle close to you.
when he pulls away for the last time, he still doesn’t lean back in his seat, expectant for more of your kisses until you’re ready to go home.
“do you wanna have dinner?” your nose touches his as you ask.
and osamu, still smiling, tells you bluntly, “no.”
you blink, and you make the first move to sit back against your chair, moving away from him as you laugh.
you tilt your head, “no?”
and he tells you, amused, “no.”
only osamu miya would spend two minutes straight kissing you only to reject you for dinner not even thirty seconds later.
“okay, what is going on with you?” you cross your arms over your chest, laughter bubbling in your throat.
he leans back.
you put your elbows on the table, “ever since i dropped that comment on moving in together this morning, you’ve been all dodge-y.”
he watches you with an amused smile.
“and i get it, cause if you don’t want to move in together with me or my crappy house habits, now is the time to tell me.”
you probably sounded a bit more invested in moving-in than you probably were, but you spent the whole day thinking about it — what it meant if osamu was really so bothered with living with you — that you probably did sound as invested as you seemed.
“idiot.” osamu shakes his head, his smile as calm as ever, “i wanna move in with you, and your crappy house habits.”
you raise a brow, “really?”
and he smiles again, leaning forward to kiss you gently on the side of your head, “i promise.”
your eyes crinkle, “then you wanna go have dinner with me?”
and osamu mirrors your expression, “still no.”
“oh, come on!” you groan, shaking your head rather harshly as you slam your fist on the table as a joke, “why not!”
osamu smiles again, kissing you one more time before he says, “i can’t tell you why.”
“yes, you can.” you argue.
he shakes his head, kissing you again.
you pull away, “tell me.”
he says no, and he kisses you again.
“osamu, why the hell not?”
he doesn’t reply, but he does kiss you again.
“okay enough — samu!” at this point, you push him off, leaning him back against his chair as you try not to laugh.
he frowns, and he tries to lean closer to you again for another kiss but you shake your head.
“no kissing until you tell me why you can’t have dinner with me.” you cross your arms, and you watch as his expression immediately falls.
“no kissing?” he repeats back to you, offended.
and you nod, “no kissing.” having fun.
it all came down to two choices — either he tells you what’s been up with him all day, or he doesn’t get to make out with you all night — and really, he’s walking the fine line between doing the former just to avoid the latter.
“i can’t tell you.” osamu says, his smile failing him.
and you say, firmly, “then no kissing.”
osamu’s head falls on the table, his face smooshing against the glass as he groans, a long drag of “noooo” escaping his lips as he whines.
you lean your face against your hand, “this hurts me more than it hurts you.”
and osamu scoffs, “no, it doesn’t.”
and you smile, “i know.”
there’s a reason why osamu has been acting weird and standoffish all day — a reason why he’s been dodgey ever since you made that comment about living together.
and that’s because even though he did say he’d want to move in with you, that’s not what he wants to do at all.
it’s the same reason as to why he can’t have dinner with you tonight. the same reason why he’s got plans with atsumu when he’d rather be sharing the evening with you.
but he supposes, one night of ring shopping can be made up for with numerous more nights after it.
atsumu is planning something, and you know, — unfortunately so — because he’s watching you sleep.
every night for the past three days, when you’re sleeping, you can feel him turn and prop himself up on his palm, breathe in and out, and just lay there next to you … watching you sleep.
and whilst others could argue how it’s horribly romantic for him to do that — you know atsumu long and well enough to know that he is planning something.
“hey!” atsumu’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, his hands bouncing on your shoulders as he hops around your space, a wide wide smile on his face as he sees you for the first time today.
“i thought i was gonna pick ya up.” he tells you, his smile slightly feigning into a frown as he does so.
“i wanted to save you the trouble.” your eyes crinkle, “and also, samu promised me free onigiri if i got here early.”
today is onigiri miya’s grand opening — for the second time.
( the first time was a year ago but osamu got the restaurant moved to a much more convenient place a little bit last month and now he’s holding a rather small party with friends and family to celebrate. )
“you have to stop letting my brother lure you into betraying me.” atsumu groans, and the hands he had on your shoulders fall lower onto your waist.
you shake your head, smiling, “but he is such a good cook.”
with atsumu’s new contract with the MSBY BLACK JACKALS, it meant a whole bunch of new changes in your relationship.
he was gone more and more and sometimes, the only few moments the two of you would see each other was when he’d go home to your apartment or when he’d visit you at your college campus.
it was a hard change, but between his promotion and your final year in university, it was a change that was well-welcomed anyway.
“hi.” atsumu smiles, holding you close by the waist, appreciating that he met you by the doors of the restaurant, clearly abandoned by the other guests of the party.
you laugh, your arms looping around his neck, as you repeat, “hi.”
his eyes crinkle, a laugh on the verge of his lips, but with a smile, he leans closer to you instead, and closing the gap between the two of you until his smile touches your lips.
he could be away from you for two seconds or two years and he would still miss you the same.
the sun is starting to set, and with it, the party’ll probably begin too.
as close family, it’s only natural for you and atsumu to be early, but now, as the excitement of the night starts to arise, you feel pretty damn proud to be so close to this event right now.
atsumu pulls away, his smile the same as you first saw him today, and he leans in one last time to give you another peck on the lips.
your shoulders rise, and you smile, “come on, let’s go find samu.”
with the miya name, and the popularity of the original onigiri miya restaurant, it’s safe to say that the turnout of osamu’s party is alarmingly successful.
he’s got cousins from the other side of japan visiting him for tonight, and he’s unsure if that adds to his ego or his blood pressure more.
but aside from all that, not that his restaurant should be his first and only priority right now, atsumu stands next to him, his third glass of champagne almost completely empty.
there’s a groan in the back of osamu’s throat.
“i’m gonna do it.” atsumu nods, looking at you mingling with the crowd, watching with keen eyes as you laugh and talk with a few mutual friends.
he stands in the small buffet corner with his brother — the only person who knows what he’s planning — and with another sip of champagne, he nods faster.
osamu looks at him, “you’ve had three drinks.”
and atsumu shakes his head, “that’s why i’m gonna do it.”
see, atsumu has something he wants to do.
he’s been thinking about it for a while now, especially since he’s been part of his new contract, but every time he tries to actually do that thing he wants to do — he chickens out.
( atsumu would argue that his “chickening out” is only because he wants to make sure that what he wants to do would be something you’d want to do as well … and osamu would say that he’s chickening out because “yer a chicken and yer adopted.” )
“i’m going to do it.” atsumu takes the last sip from his glass, “right now.”
and osamu sighs, “please don’t ruin my party.”
“samu, more of your guests are arriving and i’m happy for you but i’m begging you to turn them away, they are going to finish all of your food.”
there’s a particular way your voice bounces as you say this, your hand pointing to the entrance door as you look at osamu who gives you a winning grin.
after a few minutes of that wretched mingling, you finally fall back to the corner where osamu and atsumu are at, but the air with them feels just as stiff as from before.
“i have something to say.” atsumu cuts in, looking you dead in the eye as he speaks.
your shoulders fall, “oh no.”
you know for a fact that atsumu miya is planning something. he’s been watching you sleep, staring at you when he thinks you aren’t looking, and romantically (sure) but creepily whispering something on repeat under his voice whenever you pass him by.
so you know — for a fact — that he is planning something.
and you’re unsure if it’s a good thing or not.
what if he proposes? that’s insane, it’s only been barely a year since you two started dating.
what if he wants to break up? you’re going to kill him for choosing to do it now.
your expression is wary.
“i think — no — i know — i should — we — we should —” atsumu blinks, trying to get the words out.
if it isn’t obvious already, he is very ( if not completely ) nervous about this.
“wow.” osamu nods, watching from the side as his brother tries his best, “you are so good at this.”
atsumu shoots him a dirty look, and the next second, he’s back to looking at you.
there’s a second stuck in the air.
he really is nervous about this.
and he just sighs, his shoulders fall as does his chest, and he lets a deep breath out as he looks at you.
“i want you to move in with me.”
that is not what you were expecting him to say.
“i love you, and you have a drawer of things in my dresser and i have way too many shirts at your apartment floor, and you have a toothbrush at my sink and i’m pretty sure you have my MSBY team jacket that you’re purposely hiding from me.”
his face is pink, and you’re unsure if that’s from the alcohol or from the fact that he just said all of that in one breath.
atsumu looks stiff, “i want more than that.”
“i want you to have your own whole dresser and your own whole … hairbrush ….” he continues talking and he kinda wishes he doesn’t.
( from the side, osamu nods, listening in, “you’re so romantic.”
and atsumu replies, in a hush tone as if you’re not literally in front of them, “go away. shut up. stop listening.” )
he lets a deep breath out, “i want you to move in with me.”
and he smiles, because he doesn’t know what else to do.
“unless, ya don’t want to …” atsumu laughs nervously, taking a sip from his champagne glass only to be reminded that its already empty, “then that’s also fine… definitely.”
the last time he’s been this nervous for a response was when he told his mother he wouldn’t be going to college, and even then, he was less nervous than this.
you look at him, “that’s it?”
“uhm,” and his expression falls, his hand back on his nape, “yea — that’s it. sorry.”
relief spreads across your chest. so, he isn’t proposing and he isn’t breaking up with you.
“no,” you shake your head, eyes softening at how atsumu is visibly defeated by what you just said.
you step closer towards him, “i mean, of course i’ll move in with you, i practically live with you already.”
“yeah?” his expression picks up, “you would?”
“yeah.” you smile, and your arms are back looping around his neck, “i’d love to have my own whole dresser and my own whole hairbrush.”
he groans when you remind him of that, but he laughs anyway, and with it, he reciprocates your embrace.
the whole moving in together won’t fix the rough schedule the two of you have been fighting, but it would definitely make seeing each other a lot more easier.
atsumu leans in to kiss you, his hand holding you by your jaw and your cheek as he pulls you in close, and he smiles against your lips.
you pull away for a second, laughing, “does this mean you’ll finally stop watching me sleep?”
and with his nose still touching yours he asks, “are you finally gonna return my MSBY team jacket?”
“no.” you scoff, and atsumu ignores that as he pulls you back in to kiss you again.
he’s laughing, but he pulls away just to come back to your lips again just to pull away and do it all over again.
you are the love of his life. he’s so sure of that.
well, at least, according to him, it’s not a fight, because for it to be a fight, both sides need to be participating in the fighting, and since he claims that he’s not participating in it, it would not make it a fight.
he isn’t fighting with you — “i don’t wanna argue with you!” he says, toothy smile and all — but you are most definitely fighting with him — “must be because you know you’re gonna lose!” you say back, just as in love.
“why do you look like that?” sakusa snaps him out of his thoughts, looking at him briefly before settling back into reality.
atsumu isn’t looking so good. not only did he have to get out of bed an entire hour earlier than he usually does, but he also had to wait in line at this cafe all the way across town for two cups of coffee.
there’s a groan lodged in the back of his throat. he’s already so tired and so sleepy, and he doesn’t even like coffee.
he looks up, stifling a yawn as he shrugs, “i’m as hot as ever, omi.”
and to that, as expected, sakusa rolls his eyes, standing casually near his teammate as he finally notices the two cups of coffee in his hands.
“at least you’re still good for coffee.” sakusa shrugs, reaching out for one of the cups.
atsumu swats his hand away, “not for you.”
( and sakusa feels the need to scoff because don’t friends get each other coffee? and has atsumu miya not been breathing down his neck all year for him to finally admit that they’re best friends forever? )
“ooh, coffee!” shoyo chimes in, his usual smile adorning his face as he runs to where atsumu and sakusa stand, hands grabby for one of the two cups in the former’s grasp.
atsumu swerves away from shoyo’s approach, shaking his head, “not for you either.”
shoyo falls, his shoulders dropping as he’s shot down by atsumu’s gesture, and he looks at sakusa, who — as the same as him — is noticeably more frowney than usual.
it’s not even eight in the morning.
the main doors in the big gymnasium opens, and with it, everyone turns their heads to anticipate who the newcomer is.
atsumu knows who it is — he knew who it would be — in fact, he was counting on it.
“hey!” atsumu runs over to you, his morning slump apparently over the second you walked in those doors.
you don’t usually find yourself in atsumu’s work place so early, you visit from time to time, but never in the mornings since you find them still so scattered and drowsy when you do.
you joked that atsumu works with insomniacs, always up so late and up so early, and atsumu, with a straight face, tells you, “i work with psychos.”
(and he never mentioned a name, but you’re pretty sure he was talking about bokuto and hinata and sakusa.)
this morning, atsumu had asked you to come meet him earlier than you usually do because he had something “super-duper important” to tell you.
and you might’ve been in a fight with him now, but you’ve never been one to stand him up when he’s asked to meet.
atsumu gives you a smile, “i got you coffee.”
( and in the background, for some reason, both sakusa and hinata scoff, shaking their heads in disappointment as they both yell, “boo!” )
“yeah, you can keep your stupid coffee.” you keep a playful smile on your face as you cross your arms over your chest.
"don't say that in front of them." atsumu gapes, covering the coffee as he fakes a hurt expression on his face.
he scoffs, shaking his head, "they're amazing coffee, not stupid, and i had to wait twenty minutes in line for them at that one cafe you love so much."
"i already told you i'm not gonna do all 'this' with you until you reschedule that dinner with your parents." you reply, still not accepting the coffee he persistently tries to hand over to you.
to put it simply — atsumu miya is refusing to have dinner with his parents.
and that’s fine, it wouldn’t bother you at all since it’s his life and his family, but ever since he’s been “strategically” dodging their calls, his mom started calling you — and that’s where you get involved.
the last time they’ve invited you out for dinner, atsumu had made osamu call them and cancel for the two of you, because apparently, you were too sick to go out and atsumu was too busy taking care of you to call them himself.
( “why am i the sick one?” you complained, a yell dying in your throat.
atsumu, smiling and nodding proudly, “cuz i’m too strong and healthy to be sick, they’re never gonna believe that!”
you threw a pillow in his face. )
and now — well — now, you’re not not in fight.
he told you he refuses to fight with you, and you told him you’re never gonna talk to him ever again until he calls his mom to reschedule that dinner.
so basically, you're both at a stalemate.
"all 'this'?" atsumu raises a brow, his smug smile widening as he closes his eyes.
"you mean me showing you my unconditional love?" he scoffs, and once again, he points to the cup in his hand, "with amazing coffee?"
"atsumu miya." there’s a glint in your eye as you smile, "i will not flirt with you in public or in private until you call your mom."
"i'm your husband, it's in our vows to flirt." he shakes his head.
and you smile wider, raising your shoulders slightly as you take the cup of coffee in his hands, "i'm gonna go and ignore you now."
"you're gonna ignore me?" atsumu gapes, his hand dramatically over his chest, "your husband? the love of your life?"
and you give him a kiss on the cheek, turning on your heels and walking away as you take your leave.
atsumu yells after you as he watches you go and walk away, "where in the vows did you include this?"
and to that, you take a sip from the cup he’s been so proud of, and you look back at where he stands, "average coffee!"
and you’re gone again.
as fast as you came by, you’ve left the gymnasium just as quick, and atsumu watches, with a small smile on his face, as you go.
shoyo and sakusa walk over to where atsumu settles, a shared look on both their faces as they stop just behind him.
“y/n left already?” shoyo looks at the door. “i didn’t get to say goodbye … or hi …”
atsumu shrugs, “if it makes you feel any better, i didn’t get to say bye or hi too.”
“you two … in a fight?” sakusa asks, and he may look disinterested, he’s perfected this expression for years, but he won’t deny that he’s a little bit curious.
atsumu looks up at him, his smile swirling in with his scoff, “i do not fight. i’m peace. i am a peaceful person.”
“hm.” sakusa hums, and he does something that he’s never done before.
as atsumu sits, watching the door that you’ve just left through, sakusa puts his hand on his shoulder, a sympathetic pat once or twice, and it’s weird because this is probably the kindest thing he’s done for him all year.
“you should’ve given me the coffee.”
this is gonna be a long morning.
by the time lunch rolls around, atsumu usually calls you the second he gets off the court — not only is this time one of the very few where your breaks line up, but he’s always liked asking you how your day is going while he eats.
yesterday, you talked about your professor and his new girlfriend, the day before that, he told you about his new coach, and today —
today, he has nothing to talk to you about, because frankly, he’s not even sure if you’d pick up.
he hates this — he hates that you’re mad at him, he hates that he can’t talk to you the way he usually does, and he definitely hates that stupid coffee he waited 20 minutes in line for for not giving him the caffeine boost he needed.
"you look upset."
atsumu looks up from the bench, "you’re back!"
"i bought you lunch from that one sushi place you love so much," you sit across from him, watching as his smile widens by the second.
"we’re not in a fight anymore?" his eyebrows slightly furrow together.
"we are." but the smile you give confuses him, "but you bought me my favorite coffee, so i figured, we can pause that fight."
"how are we on time?" you ask, showing him the brown baggie you got from the sushi place.
and atsumu gives you a wide grin, "an hour until i can ask the coach to give me five more minutes to spend with you."
"you’re flirting." you narrow your eyes.
and he looks back at you, "i can’t help it that my words have a natural charm in them."
and you laugh, but you tell him that you’re laughing at him and not with him, and he laughs too, because he’s happy that you’re here where he can here you laugh.
it’s funny to think that this is how a “fight” goes between the two of you.
and atsumu knows that this is just the pinnacle of it, that this won’t be how it always will be when the two of you argue, but for now, he’s enjoying it.
you make him sleep on the couch, and when he wakes up, you’re sleeping next to him, cramped up and smooshed in the tiny sofa.
he’s giving you the silent treatment, and you give him post-its to write his replies down so he can keep “not talking” to you whilst all the while talking to you.
it’s the pinnacle of fights between your relationship, and atsumu is very happy with that.
"you shouldn't have come." atsumu tells you, but the smile that easily reaches his eyes tells you otherwise.
"you don't want me here?" you put a hand on your hip, eyes as teasing as ever.
he rolls his eyes, "some people say hello, you know, you can even try the 'hello atsumu-kun, you look so nice today!!' thing."
your shoulders rise, "you want me to lie to you the first second i see you?"
and as a response, atsumu puts a hand over his chest, dramatically falling to his knees as if he's been hit by a critical attack.
you put your things down on the ground as you let him wrap his arms around your waist, an easy gesture the two of you have done for way too long for it to feel foreign.
"hi." he smiles, looking at you directly as he embraces you, cheesy and awkward and new, and definitely thanking that everyone else has left the gym for their lunches.
"i don't wanna fight anymore." you tell him, "i don't wanna smoosh next to you on the couch anymore."
atsumu's eyes crinkle, "that's why you don't wanna fight?"
"that's the exact reason why." you nod, laughter lacing your words.
"so," he tilts his head, "this means i win the fight?"
your shoulders rise, "no. i win the fight."
"you're the one who said ya didn't wanna fight anymore - makes me the winner!"
"you bought me coffee as a peace offering, so you caved first, which means i win!"
"that doesn't count." he shakes his head, but his sly grin remains easy.
you narrow your eyes, "yes, it does - i win."
and he tells you, happy to have you so close, "i win."
"atsumu miya," you coo, "i win."
and he's gonna say something after that - something even more clever or funnier than what you've just said to one-up you - but he doesn't.
instead, he does what he's been dying to do all day, and with easy eyes, he leans into your space, easily closing in the gap as if it was never there in the first place.
he kisses you, and it's nice, because the way his hands are on your waist and your hands are circled around his neck make the two of you feel closer than you really are.
you can feel his smile against your lips, and when he pulls back, the same smile is still there.
which — by the way, in your opinion — is incredibly childish for someone his age.
“can you pass me the salt?”
and he slides it over to you by pushing it with the side of his fork, not once even looking up from his newspaper to spare you a glance or anything in the form of an acknowledgment.
you narrow your eyes, “really?”
he doesn’t respond.
so, the two of you are in a bit of a fight.
not that either of you would admit it, but ever since you got back from your latest mission, everything between the two of you have been, to put it simply, icy.
“you are twelve years old.” you sit back on your chair, crossing your arms over your chest as you watch him not even attempt a reply at that.
there was a mission assigned to anyone who would take it last week. whilst it was advised that no one go for it just yet, it’s not like it was forbidden for you to accept it anyway.
you were capable, and it was dangerous, but so is every other aspect of your job as a sorcerer, so you took it — and you did a damn good job at it.
your phone rings from your pocket.
“gojo?”
it’s barely ten in the morning on a sunday, and last you checked, gojo had no reason to be calling you at this date and time, especially not after that big mission you just got back on.
you don’t miss the way nanami slightly perks up at the call.
“shibuya?” you nod along with what gojo’s telling you.
apparently, the first years are in need of some help in something currently happening in shibuya, and whilst gojo would handle it himself, he’s tied up with another task in tokyo at the moment.
he told you he’d call nanami about it instead of you, but he figured you’d be at the same place anyway, and according to him, his odds of you picking up the call was far greater than nanami’s.
you look over to the man sitting across from you, unbothered and deep in his newspaper.
you ask gojo, “when?”
he tells you ten minutes, and you look at the clock, then at nanami.
he’s still upset with you, after a week of being home, after a week of that mission getting done and over with — he is still upset with you.
nanami doesn't yell, he isn’t a yeller, and even if he was, he would never ever raise his voice at you.
no, the way he’s upset with you is different. he is freezing you out, and he wants you to know it.
you take one last look at the clock, and you tell gojo, “i’ll be there soon.”
you tuck your phone back into your pocket, thanking whoever willing to listen for your meal and for the fact that you’re already dressed and ready to leave.
today was supposed to be a mellow day, but it appears, you can’t have that too.
“it’s your day-off.” nanami cuts in before you could do anything else, but he doesn't really look up from his paper.
he flips from one page to another, “does gojo satoru not know to not call people when they’re on break?”
this is probably the first time he’s spoken more than three words to you all week.
“yeah, well, why do you care?” you stand from the table, “you’re not talking to me, remember?”
nanami tilts his head, “now, look who’s acting twelve.”
all week, nanami passed you by in the halls at the tech, he said nothing, when you’d go home and he’d be there first, he said nothing, when he’d go home and you’d be there first, he said nothing.
( nanami came into the common room once with a splint in his arm and of course, you couldn’t ask him about it or what happened, because you weren’t talking to him either.
so you ended up bribing gojo to ask nanami about his arm to report back to you.
and apparently, when gojo asked “do ya mind if i ask you about your arm?”, nanami shook his head, and replied, with a tone that even gojo couldn’t say no to — “i don’t mind if you ask. i will mind if you tell y/n.” )
“i have to be at shibuya in ten minutes, i cannot - and will not - get into an argument with you about who’s acting twelve years old right now.”
you’re not as upset as you seem, but you are starting to get annoyed at the fact that he’s still not putting that stupid paper down.
nanami asks, nonchalant, “so, you’re going?”
“of course, i’m going, it’s my job, nanami.” you roll your eyes, “it’s our job, i’m surprised you’re not more understanding about this.”
that is what this is all about.
he’s been mad at you ever since you went on that mission everyone told you was too dangerous to go on, and you’ve been mad at him ever since he made you feel like he thought you couldn’t do it.
but a week is a week.
and you miss nanami.
it’s not enough to go home to him everyday.
you want him to talk to you again, you want him to complain about gojo again, you want him to whine about being a sorcerer again.
you want to point out to him that he complains a lot again, and you want him to laugh everytime you say that again.
“you’re upset that i went on that job.” you sit back down in front of him, a sigh heavy on your shoulders.
“i’m not upset about that.” nanami looks up from his paper, for the first time all morning, finally looking at you.
his eyebrows furrow together, “you didn’t tell me that you were going, that’s why i’m upset.”
he looks at you, and you wish that he’d focus back on his paper instead.
your elbows are on the table, and you bring your hands together as you look back at him.
nanami sits forward, “do you know how it felt when gojo told me that you went off on your own in a special grade mission?”
“and i didn’t tell you.” you finish his sentence for him, eyebrows furrowing.
he shakes his head, “you didn’t tell me.”
you steal a glance from the clock, at this point, if you don’t leave now, you really won’t make it to shibuya in time.
your shoulders fall, eyes softening, and you smile, “okay. fine.”
you raise your hands as you laugh, “i lose this one.”
( this is the first time you’ve lost an argument with nanami.
the first time you won was when you and nanami were arguing about who’s apartment to keep when you move in together two months ago, nanami had knocked on your door at two am, covered head to toe in dirt and blood, and he told you, seconds before walking into your apartment, “you win.” )
nanami looks at you the same, but a gentler hue falling across his expression.
“stop looking at me like that now, you win, i lose.” you look at him with half a smile, “i’m sorry - i’m apologizing.”
he goes back to his newspaper.
“nanami.” your shoulders fall.
you take another look at the clock.
“kento,” you call, and this is how he knows you need him to listed to you, “i don’t wanna leave with you upset.”
nanami looks over his paper and at you again, watching you with keen eyes as he knows that you’re gonna have to get going soon.
“i don’t want to say anything you’ll regret.” he tells you, and you’re unsure what he means by that.
“you can say anything you want to me.”
and for the first time all morning, he finally puts his newspaper down, setting it aside his half-empty mug of coffee, and for a second, he just looks at you.
nanami knows better than to stop you from doing your job. youre very good at what you do, and he knows it just as much as you do, but sometimes - only sometimes - he has this fantasy of never having to worry if you'll make it home or not.
your job scares him, though he'll never admit it to your face nor be selfish enough to express it, whenever you come home with blood or new bruises, it scares him.
but right now, as he watches you narrowing your eyes at him, he doesn't feel anything resembling fear.
and nanami smiles, though it’s barely there, he tells you, “i wanna marry you.”
well, that much is given, seeing as you are married to that said boy in that said bed, but what's different in this particular scenario is that that boy in that bed is — to put in nice terms — aggressively staring at you.
now, you know what this is about - you know why kuroo tetsuro (the boy in your bed) is not-so-subtly pining for your attention - but as much as you want to cave and give him what he wants, you choose to go against it.
you have a test tomorrow: a big, important test that's full of dates and names needing to be memorized, a test that's been haunting you for the past few weeks now — so no.
you will not be giving the boy in your bed any attention tonight.
a pillow is thrown over to the side of your head.
"kuroo tetsuro!" you turn around from your table, "you did not just throw that pillow."
and kuroo, with another pillow in hand, yells back, "come to bed already!"
he is a twelve year old boy on a roadtrip constantly asking the driver of the car - which happens to be you in this situation - the annoying loop of words over and over again of "are we there yet?".
"no!" you yell back at him, "i don't go to bed with losers!"
and apparently, you're just as immature and childish as he is.
there's another pillow thrown at your head.
now, if this was any other night, if tomorrow hadn't been test day, maybe, just maybe, you would've left all common sense and retaliated, giving kuroo exactly what he wants by sparing him attention, but no - you are calm, you are responsible, you are holding out, and you are -
another pillow hits your head.
- so going to kill him.
you stand up from your desk, leaving behind the opened book that you're supposed to be paying attention to tonight, and slowly, with a quiet expression on your face, you walk over to the foot of the bed.
your college apartment is small, only enough for two married students in their early twenties to afford, but you didn't expect it to be this cramped when your husband's aim from the bed hits you perfectly on the head three consecutive times whilst you're all the way across the room.
either you're living in a tighter flat than you realized or kuroo's years of athleticism never fails to betray him.
you look at the boy in your bed, his back leaning against the headboard in a comfortable position as he slightly raises his head to look back at you.
his smile as teasing as always.
"i have a test tomorrow." you smile, your voice calm and timid as you stand over him.
kuroo nods, "i know."
"it's a really big test." you tell him again, same smile and all.
he gives you the same reply, "i know."
"you know." you smile wider, traces of laughter lining your words as you sit slowly next to him.
you are the only person in the entire world with the privilege of getting to be with kuroo at night - and you don't even mean that in any salacious or scandalous way - because kuroo tetsuro, preparing to go to sleep? is truly a tempting sight on it's own.
he's very clean. with the smell of aftershave slightly lingering from his face, hair swept back neatly that it barely counts as a fringe anymore, and one of his old shirts from high school that hangs off of his frame more than it should, how could anyone say no to sleeping next to him?
"it's nine in the evening." you tell him, calm.
and kuroo looks at you, his smile the same, "i know that too."
"so, to lay out all the information: you know i have a test tomorrow, you know it's a very big test, and you also know it's nine in the evening, which basically means i have more or less three hours to get all this studying down by then if i want to have a good night's sleep and graduate college."
you choose to ignore the amused glint in your husband's eye as you talk, remaining calm and collected as you sit on the soft bed.
"yes." kuroo nods, "that's about right."
you laugh, and you move over closer to him, and he moves closer to you, his smile teasing, but really, everything about him is, and with the close proximity the two of you find yourselves in, it's very hard for you to ignore just how good he smells right now.
"tetsuro." you call.
and he smiles wider, "hm?"
"throw another pillow at me while i'm sitting on that desk and i swear, you will not be sleeping with, next, or close to me for the next week."
his smile doesn't waver, and neither of you are really pulling away from the closeness you created, so it's just the two of you, sitting in bed, noses almost touching.
kuroo's smile is less teasing, "i miss you."
"you threw three pillows at me." you remind him.
and he laughs, "i threw four but the other one missed."
it's already hard enough to deny kuroo in a usually day-to-day basis, so in moments like this, when he's so close to you and he smells so nice and he's telling you all the things he's saying, how can you resist?
"i have to study." you say again, and it feels like you're trying to convince yourself more than actually telling him.
"i know." he tells you, and apparently, that’s all he’s been saying tonight.
you have a reply in mind, something along the lines of “if you say that one more time i’m dumping you” or “you’re not as funny as you think”, but whatever it was, it quickly dies in your throat as kuroo leans forward.
the closeness is gone, and so is the space between the two of you.
kuroo’s always liked kissing you, it’s his favorite thing to do if he’s asked.
something about being so close to you and smelling you or just having to feel you and your lips and your face and your nose, or the way you sometimes smile into it that it also makes him smile, and you’re both all smiley and it gets hard to keep kissing.
it’s his favorite.
even now, when he kisses you — as he kisses you — all he can think about is how much he likes kissing you.
he kisses you slow and deep, like he’s been waiting all night to do this, and he pulls back, with the same smile never leaving his face.
"i know you have to study." he smiles, and he tells you, "i just wanted a kiss."
“but don’t study so much that you develop a really weird brain where you practically know everything there is, okay?” he quickly follows after that, his amused demeanor back in the air as if it’s never left, and you smile, gently shoving him back.
he grins, “we have dinner reservations on friday.”
you get up from your seat on the bed, rolling your eyes as you wave him off, “yes, i promise i won’t get really smart so we don’t miss our dinner reservations.”
and he laughs, the way he always does, and he watches you as you make your way back to your desk.
and that would’ve been the end of it: you, back in your seat, giving your attention back to the open book you’ve abandoned, and him, finally getting the sleep he’s been craving all day.
but kuroo is kuroo, and if there’s one thing he can’t do; it’s definitely sleep without you.
“how was your day today by the way?” he asks, and the boy in your bed is no longer in your bed.
kuroo now stands next to you, hovering slightly as he watches you read along the pages of your textbook.
you want to ask why he got out of bed but that would spark up a conversation, and you have no time for that right now.
“hm,” you don’t look up from your book, “it was fine.”
“oh.” kuroo nods, “okay - good.”
he watches as you keep your focus as you study, a little proud that you’re so adamant for that test tomorrow and if he’s willing to admit it, a little not-so-proud that he actually got the “it was fine” response.
after all, kuroo’s always asked you about how your day goes and he’s never — ever — gotten that much of a dismissive response.
it’s weird. it feels … weird.
“i’ll leave ya to this then.” he smiles one last time, and he takes a step back, retreating to the cold bed without you.
"tetsuro." you call to him.
"yeah?"
and you look at him, “i promise to give you all the details tomorrow.”
“oh, thank god.” kuroo puts a hand over his chest, “you know what not knowing these things does to me, it keeps me up all night.”
you raise a brow, “not knowing what i did all day keeps you up at night?”
“i thought you were mad at me for bugging you.” he corrects you, his tone in a matter-of-fact way.
he walks back to you, hand still over his chest in a dramatic fashion, “i thought you were finally getting back at me for that one time when we were in high school and i ducked behind you during dodge ball.”
“i wasn’t even in the lineup during that game, you were the one who asked the coach to put me in.” you scoff as you remember, shaking your head disappointedly.
kuroo smiles, “i wanted to play with you.”
you scoff harder, “you pushed me towards the ball.”
“that was me flirting.”
“well, you’re not good at flirting at all.”
“i had a crush on you for the entirety of high school and three years later, we’re married.” he grins, taunting you with a mocking tone, “i think i’m doing something right.”
his face is close to you once more, but you take the initiative to move away this time.
“you’re doing it again.” you shove him away.
and he grins, “doing what?”
“seducing me into coming to bed.” you bite back a smile.
“i can’t help it if i’m naturally seductive.” he taunts harder, bringing his face closer to yours again, completely ignoring how you moved back last time.
“kuroo.” you warn.
and he smiles wider, “is it working?”
he is twelve years old and you are driving the car.
“i have to study.” you smile, shoulders rising as you push him away, “i say for the millionth time tonight.”
and kuroo sighs, but his smile doesn’t waver at all, and he steps back, raising both his hands in the air as a sign of defeat.
for someone as smart as him, you wonder if he specifically gets a kick out of messing with you all the time.
“can i at least let help you?”
“are you actually gonna help or are you gonna keep distracting me?”
and he shakes his head, “i promise to actually help.”
so you sigh, moving slightly to the side, “pull up a chair.”
kuroo beams, happier than he’s supposed to be, keeping the same teasing glint in his eye from before.
he sits next to you, close and all.
“if you so much even try to kiss me, i swear,” you narrow your eyes, “it’s the sofa for you.”
and kuroo grins, “i won’t try to kiss you, i promise.”
but turns out, as much as you can’t resist kuroo, kuroo is way worse at trying to resist you.
( neither of you get any studying done that night, the books get lost in between the bickering and everything else.
of course, you pass your test, but still, kuroo sleeps on the couch.)
sometimes, atsumu finds himself regretting not going to college.
it's only for small, short periods of time though. nothing much to mull over if he's really talking about it, but sometimes, moreso, in this case, right now, he finds himself a little more immersed in the thought than usual.
the decision to not go to college is completely his, no one forced him into it. it's all completely on him.
"and the professor just kept going on and on about how this was such a missed opportunity for a better tagline, and i wanted to say that i agree with him, but sir, your pants are falling down."
it’s a thursday morning, and usually he’d find himself very busy at the gym working on some of the reps his coaches told him to brush up on, but it’s his free day today, and what better way to spend that than visit you at your college?
your arm’s linked with him in a casual manner, like it’s something the two of you have done for forever, and he stops walking only when you stop walking.
"are you listening?" you pause your story to ask, the cup of coffee in your hand easily matching the one in his own.
"hm?" atsumu smiles as he looks at you, "no."
you nudge his side, "i resent that. i'm a very good story-teller."
a second passes in the air.
walking around campus like this, enjoying your free time with each other, it’s just something that you’ve been wishing for a lot lately.
it always feels like you’ve been missing each other so much, and now that he’s finally here, with you, it still feels like something is plotting to happen.
"hey," you stop walking, looking at him briefly as you do, "you still didn't tell me why you're here."
you love his unannounced visits, you love him waiting outside your classroom because he just happens to know your schedule, with your favorite coffee in his hand as he tells you how he wanted to surprise you.
atsumu looks at you, "i wanted to visit."
and you raise a brow, teasing, "because we already don't see each other at all at our house that we share and go home to everyday?"
"yes, exactly." he rolls his eyes, his grin playing free on his lips, "plus my mom called cause she knew i had a free day today and i needed a valid reason to not tell her that samu and i are in a fight."
( osamu asked atsumu to housesit for him the other day and apparently, atsumu never agreed to it, but osamu was under the impression that he was.
long story short; osamu came home to a very messy house and his plants on the brink of dehydration.
they’ve been ignoring each other for days, but osamu still sends you onigiri every sunday with a note “if you share even a bite with tsumu, i’ll know and the onigiri will stop coming.”)
"so instead of telling your mom you can't go to samu's today because the two of you are still in a childish fight that could really easily be resolved by someone saying "sorry", you chose to spend your one free day all week at my college campus."
your tone is questioning, but the laughter rising from your throat breaks your expression.
"yes." atsumu answers straight up, turning to you briefly with a teasing grin, "and i love hearing you talk about your professor and his weird pants."
of course, he was listening.
"hey, miya!"
the reply you had dies in your throat as you’re both interrupted.
your head turning slightly upwards to see who it is that called, and you only really half recognize the girl who approached you two as one of your classmates.
"hey." you give her a polite smile.
and there’s a way atsumu wants to kick his feet at the thought of you being so accustomed to his name.
"i sit behind you in modern literature," the girl smiles nervously as she looks at you, "and i was wondering if i could borrow your notes on it from last week?"
you nod, your eyes crinkling as you reply, "yeah, for sure."
and without even you having to ask, atsumu hands you your backpack, standing in the sidelines as lets you look for those notes.
your classmate takes a good look at the two of you, between the matching cups of coffee in your hands and the fact that he was just holding your things just now, it’s not hard to realize that the two of you may be … involved.
"who’s this?" she asks you, pointing slightly at atsumu as she tries her best to stay polite.
"my hu–"
"boyfriend." atsumu answers, ignoring you as you look at him with narrowing eyes.
what is he up to?
"oh, sorry, did i interrupt you guys?" she asks, her expression falling even further.
"you're fine." atsumu smiles, "we were just walking around."
"i don't think i know you," she tells him, the politeness in her voice evident, "do you go here too?"
"oh, he –"
"yeah!" atsumu cuts you off, his words laced with laughter, "i sit at the very back of the class so that's probably why we don’t know each other."
that wasn’t the response you were expecting him to give.
your classmate looks at him, "oh, you share modern literature with us?"
you finally look up, your smile conniving, "he does."
and atsumu’s eyes crinkle even further as he nods, "i do."
you hand her the notes you’ve finally gotten out of your bag, one that she’s more than happy to take with a vigorous amount of "thank you"s.
"i'm sorry, i feel like such a jerk right now for not knowing your name." she looks at atsumu, eyebrows quirking together as apologizes.
oh, this poor girl.
"miya." he tells her, proudly smiling as he does so, "it’s miya atsumu."
"you’re both miya? are you guys related?" she asks, and she kind of feels weird asking that seeing as just a few seconds ago she was absolutely sure that the two of you were dating.
you blink, and you look at atsumu to answer for the both of you.
"no." atsumu answers, and for a second he shoots you an assuring look, "it's uh... just a coincidence."
"yeah," you nod, trying your best not to laugh, "it’s weird, people tease us about it all the time."
atsumu adds, "it’s actually like we’re already married."
and you elbow him lightly in the side as you try not to laugh.
"well hey, since you're in modern literature too then, can i get your notes on it as well?" she asks atsumu, and you’re grateful that she doesn’t say anything about how weird the two of you are being right now.
she shrugs, "i need all the help i can get."
you slightly tilt your head to look at atsumu, biting in your inner cheek to anticipate how he talks himself out of this one.
he doesn't spare a second to give you a reassuring glance, instead, he shakes his head apologizingly, his hand immediately touching the back of his neck as he laughs.
atsumu's smile stays polite, "i would, but i was completely thrown off the entire lesson, i forgot to take my own notes."
you raise a brow.
"i was so distracted the entire class — which is a shame cause it's usually so good, — but when our professor started talking about taglines and how they could be so much better, i wanted to agree with him so bad, but," and he trails off in suspense, a teasing glint in his eye as he looks at your classmate.
atsumu is way too good at this.
thankfully, she gets what he's trying to say, a rise of laughter coming up into her expression as she nods vigorously, "you noticed that too, huh!"
"it was so embarrassing," she shakes her head, "i didn't know where to look."
and atsumu nods slowly, "me too. he needs to get pants that fit him."
she eventually thanks the both of you, apologizing once again for interrupting your walk, and telling you, extremely teasingly that “you two look good together.”
and she’s off.
she runs back to her group of friends with your notes in her hands, and you think about what kind of explanation to give her the next time you share modern literature and your so-called “boyfriend” isn’t there to share it with you.
you and atsumu are back to walking around.
"you stole my professor + pants anecdote." you scoff, your arm linking with him out of instinct.
"i told the story better than you did." atsumu says, his tone convinced.
"now, you're openly lying to me?" you scoff harder, staring him down with narrowing eyes, "you’re a thief and a liar."
the bell rings and everyone around the two of you rushes to their respective classrooms, walking and jogging as their break’s finally came to an end.
some people look annoyed, others not so much, but if atsumu noticed one thing everytime he came to visit you, it’s that everyone — everyone in the campus — has always had an agenda they had to keep up with.
"college is fun." he tells you, smiling as he notices that the more the two of you walk the less people there is around.
you look at him, "yeah, you totally blend in here."
"i do?" he asks you, a smile lacing his tone.
you shrug, "well, you are here all the time."
"i’m not," atsumu scoffs, and he laughs, "i’m here … maybe half the time."
your arm falls from his as the two of you stop linking it together, this time his hand holding onto yours tightly as you let it sway in between the both of you.
"that’s okay," you smile, "i like you here."
"you just want someone to carry your books for ya." atsumu rolls his eyes, and you laugh, because he’s never let you carry your own books ever.
not even back in high school. if miya atsumu was around, everywhere you went, no matter if his arms were already full, you were not carrying your own things.
"don’t think i don’t see how people turn their heads to look at you when you’re here." you nudge his side, sighing dramatically as you fake a frown, "i hate being married to someone hot."
"excuse me?" atsumu practically scoffs as he looks at you, his eyes crinkling as he tease, "and you think i don’t notice all the people who turn their heads to look at you when you visit me?"
the edges of your lip tug upwards, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction.
atsumu stares you down, his toothy grin wide and giddy as he tells you, "i hate being married to someone hot."
"stealing my lines too now, huh, miya?" you roll your eyes, pushing past him to avoid him having to see the relenting smile on your face.
but that doesn’t really work either because he always easily catches up to you anyway.
he’s laughing, "well - miya - what the hell happened to all that ‘what’s mine is yours’ stuff you said in your vows?"
you walk faster.
atsumu takes your hand before you can fully leave him in the dust, laughing as he does so, he watches as you don’t resist into his touch.
he regrets not going to college. but he knows that if he did, he wouldn’t be where he is right now, and he’s pretty sure that he would regret that more.
there’s no one around, and he can’t say how many times he’s thanked the deities for that.
"miya." he says, and it feels weird, because it’s his name but he’s talking to you.
your eyes crinkle lightly as you smile, greatly appreciating his arms right now.
"i have a boyfriend, he’s in class right now so i don’t think he’ll appreciate us being this close." you smile, and atsumu laughs.
he shrugs, "i heard he steals your pants + professor anecdotes."
"yes," you try not to smile so much, "and he’s also always late, has the messiest hand-writing, and falls asleep on top of me."
"okay, now you’re just listing all my amazing quirks."
"you can’t keep falling asleep on top of me, tsumu, my back is so sore."
"i don’t recall ever sleeping on top of you therefore it must not be real."
the apparent november air, the cups of coffee on the ground that you’re both probably gonna end up forgetting — it’s all a bit cheesy.
but as much as atsumu regrets not following through with the whole college deal, he knows he won’t regret it as much as not having had married you.
your face is close to his, "my boyfriend–"
"he sounds amazing, i know." atsumu grins, but his nose touches yours anyways.
there’s no one around.
and so he kisses you.
he kisses you many times, a lot in the interval of one deep kiss, pulling away every time his lips touches yours to tease and peck and have you laughing.
but when he pulls back for the last time, and he just stares at you to stare at you, he kisses you with a lazy smile on his face, but kisses you as deep as he can.
tangentwithtanner
areudirty
2087
