based on @seijohdotorg's sakusa eds headcanons <3
atsumu's keys jingle as he enters the front door, dropping his grocery bags onto the genkan. "i'm back, omi!" he calls out. he kicks off his runners beside his partner's shoes, brings the bags to the kitchen, turns to the sink to wash his hands. drying his hands with a paper towel, he notices the stack of magazines have spilled across their coffee table, wool blanket rumpled on the couch. that's when he hears tinny sounds from a mobile game down the hallway.
omi is on the carpet at the foot of their bed, a leg tucked beneath him, the other stretched in front of him, knee jutting out at an unusual angle. he holds his phone horizontally in his hands, eyes glued to the screen. "uh, omi?" atsumu ventures. "are ya okay?"
his partner glances at him. "oh. welcome home."
"i'm back. d'ya need a hand, or..."
"it's fine. i just need a moment before i put my knee back. it's dislocated."
pause. "oh." atsumu raises his hands, lowers them uselessly. "d'ya want help? inoue-sensei showed me how ta do it."
"i'm used to it, so it's fine. you might make it worse."
"right." they haven't lived together for long, so atsumu has no idea how to react. he witnessed aran dislocate his shoulder at practice once, clinging onto kita with tear-stained eyes while they waited for an ambulance. in comparison, omi seems...nonplussed. resigned. "is there anythin' i can do?"
omi draws in a breath. "an ice pack and some painkillers will be helpful."
"got it. be back in a sec." he retreats, slows when he hears his partner inhale again, and then a sickening pop echoes around them, followed by a low swear and hiss. atsumu feels his chest twinge, biting his bottom lip as he fetches the ice pack, meds, and water bottle.
omi remains on the floor, but his knee is no longer misaligned. atsumu passes him the ice pack wrapped in cloth, then the painkillers, which he gulps down with water. a tiny breath escapes him, and atsumu puts the bottle aside, sits beside him, rests a hand over his. "feelin' better? i can carry ya ta the bed."
"i should be able to stand soon enough." his sigh is heavy. "i don't remember where i put my brace, though."
"i'll find it," atsumu promises. he squeezes his hand, reaches over to press the ice pack against his knee. "m'sorry i can't do much ta help."
"this is already plenty. usually, i just suffer - well, suffer more - trying to get everything afterwards, so this saves me some pain." omi leans against him. "thank you."
"still, i feel bad that ya hafta do all this. i thought dislocatin' somethin' is torture, after seein' my friend go through it. ya just...took it."
omi shrugs. "i've been putting my joints back for years. it just comes with my condition." hypermobility, he explained once, which allowed him to have bendy wrists. it awed atsumu at the beginning, but after they started dating, he became privy of the downsides, the additional steps to his routine to care for his body, the pain that accompanied it.
they sit for a moment longer before omi asks him to find his brace. most of his physiotherapy items are in the bottom drawer of their dresser, and atsumu positions the bulky brace over his knee. hands in his, he supports his partner to his feet, catching him when he falters. "fuck," omi hisses.
"i'll carry ya. is the couch okay?"
at his nod, atsumu hoists him into his arms, careful not to jostle his knee further. he lowers him onto the couch, puts the ice pack over his knee again, and adjusts the pillows for him to lay against. "i'll make dinner. just holler if ya need anythin'." he leans forward to kiss him.
after making sure that his partner has everything he needs, atsumu puts his groceries away and gathers ingredients for their meal.
it doesn't take long, and after an hour, he delivers a plate to omi, who puts his phone down to blink at his dinner - omurice, with his nickname written in ketchup across the blanket of egg. atsumu sits on a cushion to eat on the living room table, already digging in to his portion. "not feelin' hungry?" he asks.
"no, just..." omi delicately slices the egg with his spoon to reveal the diced chicken and chopped vegetables mixed with the rice. "you remembered this is my comfort dish."
"obviously. i'd be a shitty partner if i didn't remember what ya liked," atsumu snorts. "i'll feed ya, if you want." omi wrinkles his nose, digging in. bliss melts the tension from his face, each bite becoming bigger and bigger.
throughout the evening, atsumu replaces his ice pack with a fresh one, even helps him get ready for a bath. before bed, he massages his knee, gentle ministrations that make omi close his eyes and sink into the mattress. "thank you, atsumu. my hypermobility isn't easy to accommodate, but you...it's almost effortless for you."
"lovin' ya is effortless, omi. i'll do all this an' more, if it means you'll feel better." he kisses him on his lips, still sharp with mint. "don't hesitate ta ask fer help, okay?"
"i won't. i love you."
"love ya more."
