Chapter Text
Atsumu walks slowly to the train, his hair getting in his eyes as the wind softly blows it forward. He pushes it back and continues his weekly trek back to his apartment. The sky is a pretty lavender hue, and it reminds him of Sakusa. His boyfriend’s favorite color is reminiscent of the horizon, although sometimes Sakusa likes to claim that his favorite color is whatever Atsumu’s eyes are. He can be sappy sometimes.
The train isn’t too crowded, thankfully. Atsumu sits by a window and watches as the scenery melts together. He closes his eyes and leans back, letting the soft conversation around him and the noises of the train soothe him. He stays like this until the train stops at his destination.
The lock on his apartment door is broken, and he desperately wiggles it back and forth to get it to open. This has become a part of his routine, to the point where he doesn’t even get frustrated anymore.
The door cracks and then swings open to reveal Sakusa, who looks comfy in one of Atsumu’s tan sweaters. It hangs off of his shoulder, revealing his pale collarbones. Atsumu likes to buy oversized sweaters to make himself feel smaller, and his boyfriend likes to steal them.
Atsumu steps inside, leans forward, and kisses Sakusa, his hand gently holding the nape of his neck. Sakusa’s curly hair tickles his fingers, but he barely notices as their lips meet. Sakusa’s lips are soft and a little cold, probably because of his terrible circulation. Atsumu breaks off the kiss and leans back.
“You need a haircut.”
“I know, I already made the appointment. No hello?” Sakusa tilts his head, looking down at Atsumu, who shrugs, and leans down to undo his shoelaces.
“How was therapy?” Sakusa asks, knowing Atsumu always feels the same afterward anyways.
“It was okay. I still wish it was one-on-one instead of group therapy.” Atsumu wrinkles his nose, thinking about the back and forth of today’s session.
“I know it sucks, but it’s part of your outpatient program,” Sakusa consoles. “Maybe we should just look for a solo therapist that you can see when you have free time.”
“I’m just not sure when I would even have time with practice and the away games,” Atsumu says, frowning as he walks down the hallway and into his bedroom.
“Maybe…every other week?” Sakusa offers as a suggestion as he walks behind him. Atsumu flops down on the bed, sighing. Sakusa lies down next to him and wiggles his arm around Atsumu until they’re spooning. Sakusa knows how much he likes being held when he feels like garbage.
“Yeah. I’m just…sick of talking about my problems in front of a bunch of people that don’t even know me. If I had one-on-one time with someone I could form a connection with, it might be easier to get all this shit out.” He sighs again, leaning back into his boyfriend’s arms. “Recovery is hard.”
Sakusa presses his lips against the shell of Atsumu’s ear.
“Ya know, the sky was your favorite color.”
“Oh yeah? And what is my favorite color?” Sakusa asks amusedly, his fingers playing with Atsumu’s hair.
“Ya know, that light purple color.”
“That’s not my favorite color.”
“Um, yes it is.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Then what is it?”
Sakusa grabs his shoulder and turns him over, where their noses are almost touching. He has that lopsided smile on his face that only Atsumu sees, in the privacy of his apartment, which is starting to become their apartment. Atsumu can see how Sakusa’s pupils dilate as he focuses all of his attention on him.
“You know, before I met you, I thought that most of my favorite things would never change. My favorite food, or even my favorite color. I didn’t think Osaka could change me this much. But then I met you. And all of the things I started to love started to evolve. My favorite sound became your laugh when Bokuto told you his stupid jokes. My favorite color became the color of your eyes. And most importantly, my favorite place became by your side.”
Atsumu feels the wetness start to cloud his vision as he looks at the expression on Sakusa’s face. The same one he held when he looked at Atsumu on the ground, all those months ago. Atsumu can recognize it now. It’s love. An expression so full of love and compassion that Atsumu can’t even begin to find the depths of. It’s endless.
Atsumu kisses him wetly, tasting his tears and their saliva mix.
“I love ya, I love ya. I want to kiss ya forever,” He breathes.
“Well, you didn’t do it right the first time,” Sakusa smiles. “Let’s try again, and again, and again…” Atsumu captures him in another kiss.
“That sounds perfect,” He murmurs against Sakusa’s skin.