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The Sakusa Kiyoomi does not have crushes.
This is fact. He’s never had the tingly feeling of fondness towards another human being. He’s never felt attracted to any of the people around him. He’s never understood why his friends squeal and gush over their so-called ‘crushes’.
To say he doesn’t have taste would be well, wrong. Kiyoomi knows what he likes, he knows the type he’ll be attracted to and he simply hasn’t met anyone who ticks any of those boxes.
Ushijima Wakatoshi was a close depiction to Kiyoomi’s ideal. The man oozed charisma, he was cleanly, he loved volleyball. Yet Kiyoomi wanted nothing more than to be best friends with Wakatoshi-kun. Nothing more than just best friends.
Iizuna Tsukasa was another candidate. The captain was reliable, he was thorough about cleanliness, he loved volleyball, and he was also the perfect height. Yet, Kiyoomi knew, Iizuna-san was just his senpai. Nothing more than just teammates.
Graduating from college made Kiyoomi feel a bit out of place. He’s seen his friends fall in and out of love several times and yet Kiyoomi has nothing. He wonders what it would be like to crush on someone, to be attracted to another human being, to be pulled into their bubble.
Well, Kiyoomi didn’t have to wonder long.
Miya Atsumu is an enigma. And of all the people Kiyoomi expected he’d have a crush on, Miya Atsumu never made the list.
True Miya’s hot, heck he was hot back in high school and somehow in the 4 years Kiyoomi hasn’t seen him, Miya has managed to become even hotter. Technically it should be against the law how someone can be that attractive simply thanks to toner and a haircut.
Miya Atsumu is loud and arrogant and most definitely does not tick /any/ of the boxes. Kiyoomi thinks he’s endearing anyway.
Kiyoomi didn’t think that having a crush would put him into such a predicament.
The first predicament begins when Kiyoomi finished his first day of practice with the MSBY Black Jackals and finds that his locker is right next to Miya’s.
First of all, Miya wraps his shoes in plastic before putting them in a designated shoe bag. Then the blonde proceeds to strip of his athletic wear, bags them in another separate laundry bag before he all but waddles to the showers with a bag of toiletries he brought himself.
Kiyoomi doesn’t know how long he sat there dumbfounded as his brain worked to process the fact that Miya had just organized his dirty laundry (like any normal person should, Kiyoomi’s sure he just saw from the corner of his eye Inunaki shoving his shoes together with his worn clothes, eww).
Well, there’s one box ticked.
The second predicament takes place a few days later. Adjusting himself to playing with a new team was not exactly hard, but not easy either. It always takes him a while.
Miya’s only ever set to Kiyoomi a couple of times during youth camp, every other time they were always standing on opposite courts. Kiyoomi had already forgotten how unusually selfless his sets were, how easy they were to hit, and how each set is catered to the hitter specifically.
The first time Kiyoomi managed to nail Miya’s set, he had grinned so wide, Kiyoomi mistook him for the sun. It was toothy and sincere, it lacked the usual bravado and sarcastic smirk.
Kiyoomi etched that smile into his eyes and burned the memory into his brain.
That’s another box ticked.
The third predicament takes place a week into living in the MSBY share house. Kiyoomi wasn’t one for living with other people but the share house was convenient, it was a close walk to the gym, it was cheaper, and he’d have his own room.
Sharing a house with a loud Bokuto, a sarcastic Inunaki, and Miya, couldn’t possibly be that bad. Until Bokuto spills beer all over their couch (on accident in his defense, he tripped on air though), it was at that moment that Kiyoomi dreaded his own existence.
Saturday came and the house was awfully quiet, too quiet even. Kiyoomi makes his way out of his room around dinner time, weighing if he should check their fridge or just order take-out. He stumbles into the kitchen to find Miya cooking dinner.
Then Miya offers him a portion of whatever it was he was making. But that’s not the predicament, it’s when Miya shoves an Umeboshi Ochazuke his way, remarking it as his welcome gift that Kiyoomi feels his stomach do a triple flip and crash land on the floor.
Miya remembered his favorite food, that Kiyoomi probably mentioned like once in passing, years ago in youth camp.
The boxes didn’t matter anymore.
Kiyoomi has never had a crush before. He’s only ever heard about it from his friends. And right now he’s 100% sure that said crush is sitting next to him, filing his nails on a slow Monday night.
Within the few months Kiyoomi’s played with the jackals, he’s had multiple occasions of stomach swooping, heart swelling, and cheeks flushing moments. Kiyoomi feels like a teenager, giddy every time Miya grins, pats him on the back, cooks, or literally does absolutely nothing.
Kiyoomi’s not prepared for any of this.
Miya Atsumu is an enigma. Miya is nothing like what Kiyoomi imagined him to be, but at the same time, Kiyoomi feels like he’s known the other man inside out all his life.
Everything feels easy with him. Teamwork, friendship, housemates, whatever they are, Miya made him feel like he was at home, safe, happy, and full.
Saturdays are now movie nights with Miya, the two of them always seem to have nothing to do on weekends, so they spend it together watching whatever. It’s on one of the nights that Kiyoomi decides it’s time.
“Atsumu,” He calls, said man whipped his head so fast from the use of his first name, and Kiyoomi finds it so endearing.
“Atsumu,” He repeats. “I really like you. Will you go out with me?”