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The first time Miya Atsumu laid eyes on Sakusa Kiyoomi, he knew he never stood a chance against his charms.
They were only teenagers, but every question Atsumu had about his type was answered the moment he saw Kiyoomi pressed into a corner of the gym, arms crossed and eyes glancing around uninterested. Atsumu took in the dark curls, the moles above his eyebrows, the indifferent mannerisms and he knew that he had to be somewhere in Kiyoomi’s orbit. Over the course of training camp, Atsumu was attached to Kiyoomi’s hip. The pair became unlikely friends, and despite getting to know him, Kiyoomi hadn’t lost his mystery. Still, Atsumu knew he could get the spiker to open up eventually.
He never expected that years later, in their first year on the MSBY Jackals, it’d be Kiyoomi opening him up after their last game, in ways he hadn’t even expected.
-
It became a habit for Atsumu to search for Kiyoomi’s curls when he stepped into the gym. He wasn’t surprised to find them hidden away in a corner yet again. This time, Kiyoomi was focused on his phone, furiously typing. His eyes were red and his forehead was wrinkled. Eventually, he slammed his phone into his pocket and placed his head in one hand. He took a deep breath and looked up, eyes connecting with Atsumu’s, freezing like a deer in headlights. The setter flashed Kiyoomi a huge smile, and the stress on his face seemed to relax slightly. Atsumu watched as his best friend stalked over to him and muttered “Morning”.
“Mornin’, Omi,” Atsumu answered simply, he knew better than to ask about it; if Kiyoomi wanted to talk about it, he would. Instead, he began to tell his friend all about the fiasco as he made them breakfast. Kiyoomi smiled as Atsumu complained about his runny eggs and burnt sausage and laughed as he lamented about his expired milk. Brightening Kiyoomi’s day was probably Atsumu’s favorite thing in the world.
Other than being hopelessly in love with him, of course.
It wasn’t hard to love his best friend; it was as easy as breathing. The more he had gotten to know Kiyoomi over the season, the more he fell into his orbit. He managed to break down Kiyoomi’s walls and the more he saw, the more he loved. He knew it wouldn’t work, though. First of all, it was highly frowned upon to date a teammate. Secondly, Kiyoomi had a boyfriend. If you held a gun to his head, Atsumu could not tell you the name of the idiot Kiyoomi was dating this month. That brings him to his third point: Kiyoomi did not commit. No matter how in love he claimed to be with someone, Kiyoomi never stuck around. He could always find something wrong with his boyfriend, whether it be his laugh, his choice of clothing, or the way he drove his car; something was always wrong. Atsumu has never wanted someone more than he’s wanted Kiyoomi, but he could not fall into the cycle of Kiyoomi’s reckless abandonment. Atsumu may not have much going for him, but he did have dignity, and he did not want to break his own heart. It was an easier road to follow if they only stayed friends.
The game went as expected: the Jackals kicked ass and won their final game. Atsumu wrapped his arms around Kiyoomi in celebration since their move was the one to break the tie. Kiyoomi’s smile lit up the room and Atsumu knew that everything he had ever done in life had led him to this moment. There was nothing more liberating than holding the world, his best friend, in his arms.
Later that evening, like normal, Kiyoomi nursed a glass of wine while Atsumu drank his usual order of beer. The two chatted, like normal, but Atsumu noticed Kiyoomi had asked for a second glass. He never ordered more than one, but Atsumu figured the second was to celebrate their win. However, the way Kiyoomi wounded his lip between his teeth and constantly checked out of the conversation was slightly alarming; Atsumu had to ask him what was wrong.
“Minato dumped me,” Kiyoomi said solemnly. He told a whole tale about how Minato (there’s the name, Atsumu thought, though he had no more care for it than that) found out about his commitment issues and confronted him last night. Kiyoomi told Minato that he never said this was forever, but Minato argued that he told Kiyoomi that he was dating to marry. They argued all of last night before Minato gathered his things and left. Kiyoomi texted him this morning begging for him to take him back, but Minato called him a few choice words and blocked his number.
“He was an idiot anyway, Omi. Didn’t deserve ya,” Atsumu said, placing a hand on Kiyoomi’s knee. He thought he imagined the flush on his best friend’s face.
“I just want to have fun, Atsumu. But it’s either labels or nothing.”
“You just need someone to respect that boundary, is all. You’ll find ‘im one day.” Atsumu’s heart ached as he spoke.
“You get me, Atsumu. That’s why you’re my best friend.”
“That’s me. Best friend!” Atsumu laughed, but he was dying inside. He wanted more.
“Can you take me home?” Kiyoomi asked. Something in his eyes was different, but Atsumu couldn’t place it.
“Absolutely, Omi.”
After a short drive back to the MSBY dorms, Atsumu followed Kiyoomi up to his apartment. The minute he stepped in the door, he turned to suggest a movie, but Kiyoomi was standing there, just staring.
“Omi? What’s-” Atsumu was cut off as he felt Kiyoomi’s lips crash against his. The shock was a brief emotion before he kissed Kiyoomi back. He didn’t dare question what was happening, couldn’t deny himself the act by thinking ; he had Kiyoomi. He finally had Kiyoomi, by whatever means necessary.
He let himself be led to the bed. He let himself be opened up by Kiyoomi’s slender fingers. He let himself make the “pretty sounds” Kiyoomi was eager to hear. He let himself come all over Kiyoomi’s fingers as he felt his friend finish inside him. He let himself stay there while Kiyoomi gently cleaned him up. He let himself have this. He let himself have this because he knew it wouldn’t be here in the morning. All dignity had crumbled the second Kiyoomi had his hands on him, but he could hold off the guilt until he woke up. He couldn’t deny himself this now.
“Thank you, Atsumu,” Kiyoomi muttered, placing a kiss on his bicep before the sound of light snores began.
Atsumu knew what this meant. He wasn’t going to fight it. He got up, grabbed his clothes, and left.
While Kiyoomi was the one to discard, Atsumu was always the one to be discarded. He had been in many relationships in his 22 years on Earth, and every single one had ended the same way. Atsumu was a “pretty face” and a “good time”, along with how he “should have known this wouldn’t last long”. Miya Atsumu was never the picture of a long-term relationship, and he had been told such a million times.
He remembers how his first high school girlfriend told him he was “too romantic” for her; she wanted eye candy, not a permanent relationship, and she was the first of multiple future partners to tell him so. He had the look and attitude of a “player”, but he was too much of a romantic for anyone to stick around. He was sought for one thing and one thing only, and Miya Atsumu had gotten used to being used. He understood that Kiyoomi would move on and pretend like nothing ever happened. He knew that he was just Kiyoomi’s release after a breakup. He had Kiyoomi one time, and he was okay with that. Being used by someone he cared for was his common nature.
And he was okay with that. He was completely okay with that.
-
It took a month before Atsumu knew he needed to call this off, whatever “this” was.
One night quickly became two, and he was tired of the routine. He was tired of being treated like some secret, even though it was well-known that he and Kiyoomi were the best of friends. Kiyoomi avoided his eyes during practice and was the first one out the door, but also very quick about inviting Atsumu over to his apartment. Atsumu found himself in the role of Kiyoomi’s stress relief. Too many missed spikes? Quick handjob in Atsumu’s car. Failed Tinder date? He wanted Atsumu to suck his dick. Family spat? He had Atsumu begging for more in the middle of the night.
It was exhausting because he wanted more than this. He wanted to soothe his worries with forehead kisses and back scratches. He wanted to cook Kiyoomi’s favorite foods and watch his favorite shows. He wanted to go to the grocery store and restock Kiyoomi’s cabinets. He wanted to make love to Kiyoomi. He wanted it all, but he just had to settle for this; Atsumu hated himself for it.
Who had he become during this month? How did he let himself be at Kiyoomi’s every beck and call while putting his own interests last? He had ignored so many of Osamu’s texts because he was doing what Kiyoomi wanted. He didn’t take a trip to his family’s home because Kiyoomi asked Atsumu to accompany him to a Sakusa Family Dinner because “I need a friendly face”; Atsumu could never say no. He had started sleeping less and skipping meals because he was in a constant state of wallowing in self-pity when he wasn’t with Kiyoomi. How had Atsumu let his whole life revolve around Kiyoomi when he wasn’t even given the bare minimum?
The answer was simple, but sometimes the truth was hard to hear. The answer was this: Kiyoomi stayed. For once in his (miserable) life, someone whom he was intimate with stayed around. Atsumu was someone who Kiyoomi came back to and if that didn’t just make some part of his heart light up. Miya Atsumu had always been the one to be abandoned and Sakusa Kiyoomi had always been the one to throw someone away. Yet, this time Kiyoomi kept Atsumu around. Atsumu was wanted and that was okay with him for a while. However, someone can only be hurt so many times before they have to cut their losses and learn to be alone again. Atsumu had to be alone again because it was the only way for him to survive his declining mental health.
-
“I’m done, Omi,” Atsumu said after what he determined was going to be the last time he let himself be used by Kiyoomi.
“Yes, I’m aware,” Kiyoomi replied with a slight smirk on his face. Usually, Atsumu would laugh, but not this time. He refused to let Kiyoomi take anything from him anymore.
“No. I’m done with this , Kiyoomi.” The man stared at Atsumu with that cold stare only a Sakusa could hold.
“What?”
“Ya heard me. I’m done with this. I’m not being yer fuck buddy anymore. I can’t keep doing this. It’s hurting me, Omi. I want more than to just be a quick fuck.”
“You are not ju-” Kiyoomi started to defend himself in true Kiyoomi fashion, but Atsumu refused to hear it.
“Ya may not realize it, but that’s all I am to ya. After the first time, ya seem to only want me around when ya need some stress relief. It was okay in the beginnin’, don’t get me wrong, but I’m dyin’ here. I don’t know if ya ever saw it, but I wanted it all with ya. I wanted to be someone ya didn’t dump on the sidewalk when things got too much and I thought I could be that if I stuck around. But, no. Ya use me, Omi. All I’ll ever be to ya is a friend to fuck, but I’m puttin’ my foot down. I’m done. I don’t want to be someone ya fuck or yer friend anymore. I can’t be in yer orbit if you just want me in the shadows. I deserve better than that, and I hope ya realize that.”
Atsumu didn’t let Kiyoomi respond. He sat up, put his clothes on, and walked out of Sakusa’s apartment. Atsumu was proud of himself because he may have acted confident, but he hated confrontation. He’d rather let himself be stepped on than ask someone to avoid him. This was out of his comfort zone, but Atsumu was ready to find someone who wouldn’t take advantage of his kindness. He didn’t feel bad for Sakusa, not one bit. Sakusa Kiyoomi was not someone he could save and that was something Atsumu was okay with.
-
Sakusa Kiyoomi: Atsumu, I’m sorry. You do deserve better. Can we meet up to talk about it?
Sakusa Kiyoomi: I have that wine you like. I can bring it to your apartment.
Sakusa Kiyoomi: I miss you.
Miya Atsumu: ya get 30 minutes of my time
Miya Atsumu: door’s unlocked
I miss you, too went unsaid.
One glass of wine turned into two. Two glasses of wine turned into Sakusa opening Atsumu up, yet again.
Sakusa agreed to take it slow after that.
Atsumu cried that night. He was tired. Tired of everything.
-
Kiyoomi: A new bar opened up. It has jazz music. Can we go?
Kiyoomi: I miss you.
Miya Atsumu: one drink omi
Atsumu cried as Kiyoomi fucked into him slowly.
Atsumu cried as he walked to his apartment at 3 AM. He was tired.
-
Omi: Up for Onigiri Miya tonight?
Miya Atsumu: sure
Atsumu cried into Osamu’s arms the day after he found himself in Kiyoomi’s bed again. He was tired.
-
“Hooking up with a friend fer fun is always a bad idea, Atsu,” Osamu said, his eyes laced with sadness. Lots of people looked at Atsumu like that as of late. He looked at himself that way too.
“Thank you fer yer wise advice. I never thought of that before,” Atsumu replied sarcastically. He knew his brother only wanted to help, but he was tired of people telling him things he already knew. He knew he was in a fucked up situation! He knew he should stop going back to Kiyoomi’s place after a nice date, but forgive him for having just a smidgeon of hope! Kiyoomi threw on the charm and was his usual self. Every time they met, it was like he had never known a life where Kiyoomi used him. He felt like he was back in his first year on MSBY and poking fun at Kiyoomi while defending him to anyone who dared speak ill of the wing spiker. Kiyoomi would place blinders back onto Atsumu and then lead him back to his place. It went like this every single time. Atsumu knew he deserved better. He just didn’t know why.
“‘M just sayin’, Atsu! I know he’s, like, consistent or whatever, but ya gotta know that ya can do better. Half of Osaka would line up just to suck yer dick.” Atsumu just shook his head. Osamu tried, but he never really understood.
In high school, the Miya twins were always described as polar opposites. Where Atsumu was cocky, Osamu was humble. Where Atsumu was obnoxious, Osamu was pleasant. Where Atsumu failed, Osamu thrived. Miya Atsumu was always compared to his brother, and it was so frequent that he started to compare himself to Osamu too. It became worse when Osamu found the love of his life in Akaashi Keiji during a scrimmage their last year of high school. The pair were the definition of lovebirds and everyone fawned over the seemingly perfect couple. Then the questions of when Atsumu would settle began to pour in and it annoyed him to no end. He was tired of putting on a front of indifference; he just wanted people to leave him alone and let him live his life the way he chose.
He supposed that was another reason he felt like he needed to stay around Kiyoomi. His friend never judged him for the life he was “supposed” to live. He loved Osamu, but told Atsumu he never needed to compare himself to his brother. Kiyoomi always told him that just being Atsumu was enough. Apparently, it wasn’t enough for Kiyoomi to love him, but he digressed. He may have put on a show of disliking Atsumu, but Sakusa Kiyoomi was nothing but kind to his friend when necessary. He picked up the pieces of Atsumu whenever some new partner would shatter him. He’d place a hand on Atsumu’s knee and tell him that he never understood why someone would abandon Atsumu. But now, Atsumu wished Kiyoomi would just let him go .
The Miya twins bickered for a moment more before Atsumu decided he had had enough of this. He was going to put his foot down (again) and tell Sakusa that this fling they had was done. He would not let himself be defined by Sakusa Kiyoomi any longer.
-
Atsumu knocked on Sakusa’s door, harshly. A moment later, Sakusa opened the door with a robe and facemask on. His eyebrows lifted in confusion and it took everything in Atsumu not to stare at the moles he adored so much.
“Atsumu, what are you doing here?” Sakusa asked. Atsumu knew he had to stay strong.
“We need to talk.”
“But, I-”
“Now, Sakusa.” The man’s jaw dropped in surprise at the use of his family name. It felt unfamiliar on Atsumu’s tongue, but if he was going to end this, he had to make sure Sakusa felt as on edge as possible. Sakusa stepped to the side, gesturing for Atsumu to come in.
He stepped through the threshold and his eyes scanned the apartment. He felt oddly content knowing this was the last time he’d ever scan this place again.
“What’s wrong, Atsumu?” Sakusa asked as he placed a hand against Atsumu’s shoulder. He was almost reminiscent of the Kiyoomi he had met in high school.
“I’m done with us, Sakusa. I am tired of bein’ used. Ya only seem to want me the way I want ya when it’s convenient. I told ya we were done and somehow, I still let ya back in. No more, though. Ya can sit there and throw everyone else who cares about ya to the side, but not me. I’m takin’ that power away from ya. I refuse to be just another fuck buddy to ya and I refuse to let ya run my life the way I’ve let ya. Yer a coward, Sakusa. Ya refuse to let anyone get too close and that will forever be yer downfall. I told ya once that I deserve better, and ya acknowledged it. I’m makin’ sure ya hear me this time. I. Deserve. Better. I deserve better than to be yer first call when ya need to get yer dick wet. I deserve better than to be ignored cause yer havin’ sex with some other sap. I deserve better than to be treated like an object. I deserve better than ya, Sakusa Kiyoomi. It took me a while, but I know my worth. I hope ya find yer own one day. This is not something we can just “talk about”. I’m done with us.”
Before Sakusa could get a word in (or Atsumu took everything back when he saw how the tears welled in Sakusa’s eyes), he walked out. He walked out of the situation that tore him to shreds and walked away from the person who made a false promise to put him back together.
If Atsumu was free, why did it feel so bad? Why did he feel like someone had cut a Kiyoomi-shaped hole in his heart? Why did every nerve in his body want him to run back in, apologize, and let Kiyoomi fuck him just one last time? Why was freedom so suffocating?
Freedom for Atsumu had meant cutting off the one person who knew him inside and out. Sakusa Kiyoomi was the only person Atsumu had ever loved and now that was gone. Atsumu didn’t know who he was outside of his love for Kiyoomi. Osamu was right, it was the only form of consistency that Atsumu had ever had. Everyone else threw Atsumu away, but he had officially cut off the one person who stayed. It was toxic and heartbreaking in every sense, but it was all Atsumu had known. He knew Kiyoomi couldn’t love him, but he kept going back. Life for Atsumu had been ripped off his hinges the moment Atsumu had banged on his door. He couldn’t do this. If freedom meant living a life of regret, Atsumu would rather take his chances being Kiyoomi’s friend with benefits. If no one else would have him, Kiyoomi would, in a way. His phone buzzed as he sobbed on his own doorstep.
Omi: I should apologize.
Omi: Can we get coffee? I need to apologize.
He knew he shouldn’t try. He needed time to process. Everything in him told him to leave it alone for the time being. He knew where he would be at the end of the night. But isn’t that a good thing about this? He would never be uncertain about where he stood with someone. He wouldn’t be discarded. He’d never be compared to someone else or be told he was too much. Sure, it was loveless sex, but Atsumu could learn to be okay with that. He could find himself back in Kiyoomi’s place. It was what he deserved, after all.
Miya Atsumu: i can be there in 2
Miya Atsumu: ya know what kinda coffee i like
This was what Miya Atsumu deserved.