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Atsumu was sure that Shoyo–his teammate and favorite wing spiker–was slightly, crazily in love with him. The reason why he thought that, in no particular order, were as follows:

1. When he first joined MSBY, Shoyo admitted that the reason he tried for the team was because they were the only team that were doing tryouts–but he also chose MSBY because he wanted a good setter to set to him. And who was MSBY’s starting setter again? (Clears throat).
2. Shoyo always laughed at his jokes. And no one, Atsumu meant no one laughed at his jokes. Ever. (Must be because he was so in love with Atsumu).
3. And if you thought those two reasons were not enough, last night, after for some reason they never got the chance to room together during away games and now they did, he overheard Shoyo moaning his name from inside their shared hotel bathroom. (Like, what the actual–)

Poor Shoyo probably thought Atsumu was already conked out after the rough match earlier in the evening.

And poor Atsumu had no outlet to freak out because he was alone in the room. Under his blanket, with his eyes wide open, his jaws fell. If he ran out of the room to look for someone to scream about this, he was afraid that Shoyo would think he found out about it (which he did) and he didn't want Shoyo to be sad because of him?

Which was why, all Atsumu could do was hide under his blanket even deeper, covering his head with it as he let out a silent fuckfuckfuckfuckityfuckkkkk!

Was he really listening to Shoyo, what, masturbating to him, in real time? Right here, right now? Was this even real life? Was he dreaming?

Before this… occurrence happened, granted, Atsumu always had the suspicion in the back of his mind that Shoyo might have a crush on him. He could at least tell when someone did not like him, and Shoyo clearly liked him.

He just couldn't confirm whether it was platonically or romantically, unfortunately.

Yet, the gut feeling was there, and a setter’s instinct was never wrong–it should never be wrong. He had polished it for years to come to the point where he could trust it in a span of millisecond whenever he was on the court.

But having the suspicion about it all this time, and having it confirmed by his own two ears, were entirely different cases altogether. One that made Atsumu's heart beating like crazy, something that never happened before outside of matches.

Which brought him to the next question: What should he do?

The moment he heard the shower running, Atsumu huffed out a relieved breath and scrambled under his blanket, looking for his phone. Hurryhurryhurry, and wasted no time calling the first listed number.

“Shoyo-kun was panting my name when he masturbated in the bathroom, and I don't know what to do,” was what came out of his mouth as soon as the other person picked up. No pause, no hesitation, not even a hello needed. Straight up information because Atsumu. Was. Going. Through. It.

His hysterical confession was responded to by a long silence that Atsumu, for a few seconds, thought the call might not go through, after all.

And then, finally, “Is Shoyo-kun into ugly guys?” said the annoying voice that definitely did not belong to his literal twin brother that he shared a womb with.

“We literally have the same face,” he pointed out. “Ugly or not, Shoyo-kun still masturbated to me.”

“Stop saying the word masturbate. You're literally making me ill,” Osamu’s tone was dry, like he didn't believe a single word Atsumu just uttered.

“You don't believe me, do you, Samu?”

“First of all, why would you eavesdrop on Shoyo-kun doing his business?”

“Literally, I was on my bed. I am still on my bed. The shower is five meters away. If you're going to blame someone, blame the hotel.” Atsumu didn't know why he needed to be so defensive about it, but excuse him? Eavesdropping? There was no way he would do that, especially to his Shoyo-kun. “He probably thought I was sleeping, or he just didn't know that the bathroom in this hotel is shit with the soundproof.”

“Second, you're probably sleep deprived and were imagining it,” Osamu continued, like Atsumu's long explanation totally went over his head, which it one hundred percent had.

Ignoring him this time, Atsumu hissed out a different protest. “You know what, I still don't like the way you're copying me by calling him Shoyo-kun too.”

“Are you sure Shoyo was calling your name? Your name and mine are kinda simi–”

Atsumu never entertained the possibility of getting plastic surgery–he loved his face, okay, it was nice, and he was sure Shoyo liked it, too–but he was seriously considering it now. Anything that would sever the association from his not-twin. He could start with his face.

A waste of time, Atsumu thought as he cut off the call, the monotonous beep from the call sounded too loud now that the shower was no longer running. Just Atsumu’s luck, he had less time to prepare himself for when Shoyo would get out, and Atsumu still had zero idea of what to do as he practically threw his phone away, praying to gods and goddesses above that it would somehow land on the bedside table (It did not, it landed on the floor. Thankfully, the floor was carpeted), and he, once again, buried himself in his blanket, but this time, he forgot to cover his head under it, which was perfect in retrospect, it would come off more naturally for Shoyo to not have any suspicion that he was just sleeping as usual and totally not eavesdropping him.

The clacking sound of the bathroom door being opened jolted him and Atsumu forced his head shut. Was he supposed to pretend to be asleep? Yeah, good luck to him for that. Judging from how loud his heartbeat was and how fast his breathing was, it would be a miracle if Shoyo didn’t notice.

Whatever series of events that came after this, Atsumu could barely remember due to the high adrenaline rush going through his body. But if he should list them down, based on whatever his ears manages to catch, it probably went like this: Shoyo stepping out of the bathroom, drying his hair with his towel, then he proceeded to walk around the room–drinking water, opening and closing his bag, putting on his clothes–before he stopped at his bed. Silence. Then more footsteps, except now the footsteps sounded like they were coming towards him, crossing his own twin bed, before finally it stopped in front of Atsumu. If Atsumu tried to listen hard enough, he would be able to catch the sound of Shoyo's breathing above him.

Then the unthinkable happened. Atsumu could feel Shoyo leaning down, a thud sound on his bedside table, then a soft chuckle.

“How come your phone is on the floor? So clumsy, Atsumu-san.”

The voice was… fond. Atsumu could almost taste the warmth of hot chocolate in the middle of a winter storm running down his body. It was the feeling of getting the first sunlight after being cooped up in your room after a long period of time. It was as if someone was giving him the biggest hug like they were desperate to not let go.

Atsumu was one thread away from exploding.

Gods.

Shoyo was in love with him.

The rustling sound from the bed across from him was heard for a moment as Shoyo seemed to struggle to straighten up the heavy hotel blanket, before the sound receded into a complete, utter silence.

Only then, Atsumu opened his eyes, finding Shoyo's figure in the dark with little to no difficulty, as if his eyes would always find him.

Ah, look at him. Totally gone to the world, looking adorable with his red cheeks after a hot shower and completely oblivious to the fact that he just turned Atsumu's world upside down with his little shenanigans.

Must be nice rubbing one out with the thought of him, while the person in question had gotten rid of the ability to sleep. Not even a wink. Definitely not when he had so much to think about. Namely, how to bring this up in the morning to Shoyo.

Post #710213  under Relationship Forum

Okay, listen. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but our hotel room is SHIT I can hear what happened in the shower all the way from under my blanket okay!

I (M29) am the setter for a volleyball team. My spiker (M28), let’s call him S, is gorgeous –not that it matters, but like, it matters. He’s cute, but built like he was sculpted by the gods, and when he spikes, I swear time slows down. I digress.

So, yesterday after a match, we were roomed together, I showered first and when I came out I said I’m going to sleep NOW because I was exhausted. He entered the shower and a few minutes later, and THIS IS WHEN THINGS GET WEIRD, I heard noises.

Moaning, Panting. And I was like, fuck, S is jerking off he didn’t know the soundproof is shit I should just go to sleep but then–AND THIS IS WHERE I LOST IT–he said my name in between moans.

Okay. I’m okay. I’m not okay.

I mean, I know I’m popular. I’m handsome and basically have everything BUT HOLYSHIT S??? DOES HE LIKE ME?

I don’t know what to do. Should I confront him about it?

The thing about Shoyo was, he was cute and adorable. He was also handsome. Not the traditionally handsome like himself, or Tobio and Oikawa, but more boyishly handsome that was popular for any kind of age, class, and gender. More than that, he was very friendly and caring, the type that would make him the ultimate heartthrob if he was a senior in high school (he probably was, that brat). Then there was the fact that he was insane with his volleyball skill. So basically everyone in the volleyball world, and probably outside of it, knew how he was the most perfect man in the whole universe.

Atsumu did like Shoyo. Of course he did. That much was obvious. However, there wasn’t any deliberate way for him to describe in what way he liked him. Shoyo was his cute spiker that Atsumu enjoyed to watch because he was easy on the eyes. Sometimes, the circumstances gave him the realization that Shoyo was so small and it was kinda fucking him up, although Atsumu never entertained that thought further. Once or twice, or more, his mind took him to a completely wild, imaginative world where he would spend his entire life with Shoyo, but that was beside the point here.

The point was, Shoyo was in love with him. Possibly. No, definitely.

And Atsumu didn't know what to do about it.

Although he probably should, given this was not the first time he knew or realized someone had liked him. Gods knew how many people had confessed to him.

Atsumu was well aware that he was blessed with a pretty face. He liked it when people thought he was just all look, living for that moment he got to show them that he was way more than that, and watched them fall for him even deeper. 

But then again, that wasn't the point.

The point was, it was Shoyo.

Shoyo.

Shoyo liked him. Wait, no, loved him. And Atsumu was left alone there to wonder, did Shoyo love him for his face? His body? His volleyball skill? Probably his body given how he used him for jacking off material last night. 

The only way he could come up with it was go to some forum to ask about it, only to have the answers completely different to what he expected.

1. Don't ask him directly idiot

2. Are u sure ur popular dude how come u dont know how to handle this

3. Just ask him if he likes someone now and you can go from there

4. Hmmm sounds like you like him or else you wouldn't care to ask here. Would you fuck him?

5. This is juicy I'm looking forward to know the continuation (sorry for not helping)

The third reply was the most helpful and feasible for him to do. (Also, what the fuck was reply #4? Him? Liking Shoyo? Yes, but no? To answer their question, though, he typed: Yes, I would, in a heartbeat ). Atsumu turned off the screen of his phone and began to tap it absentmindedly, his mind began to form the conversation (confrontation) he was going to have.

Okay, so he would sit here, in the lounge of the breakfast area of the hotel. He had chosen the perfect seat, facing the entrance of the lounge for when Shoyo would enter later after his morning jog. The spiker would ask him where he went so early in the morning, leaving him behind when he was still asleep. Atsumu would answer that he went to jog earlier than him and they would proceed to eat together. Only after they finished, Atsumu would ask the question and everything would flow nicely from there.

If Shoyo were to confess, tearfully clinging to him, he would pretend to hesitate for a moment, before he would accept.

The outcome of this would be either they would walk out of this lounge laughing awkwardly or laughing while holding hands as boyfriend.

Perfect.

Atsumu couldn't see this go wrong any other way.

Except, okay.

No one could've expected that Shoyo would enter the lounge like that.

It was nothing controversial. He was just wearing a cap, with yellow sunglasses, highlighting his tan skin even more. Speaking of skin, it looked plumpy and fresh and pinchable with thin perspiration dotting his skin. Not to mention, that infamous white shirt on top of his compression shirt? Those sinful training shorts–so short that his black inner shorts were showing? Yeah, Atsumu had to talk to Shoyo about this, because this behavior was intolerable! 

Something about the turmoil inside him just from the mere sight of Shoyo entering the breakfast lounge was only an inch away from lethal level. 

It was the combination of wanting to take care of Shoyo in the most dotting way possible, but also the desire to shove his dick into his mouth. Atsumu wanted to take Shoyo on cafe dates, maybe aquarium dates would be nice, too–and he wanted to fuck Shoyo until his dick touch his brain. Atsumu wanted Shoyo to tell him that he loved him, he also wanted Shoyo to climb on top of him and grind on him.

Where were all these thoughts coming from, like hell Atsumu knew. Did he always see Shoyo with those kinds of thoughts lying dormant inside him? Maybe. And the realization should have scared him, but it didn’t. It somehow felt normal to feel this way about Shoyo.

(When later Atsumu would look back at this, he would feel disgusted by how he justified his perverted fantasies about Shoyo, but it wasn’t like he regretted it).

Shoyo looked around the lounge for a second, barely even sparing anyone a glance even though the lounge was filled by their team’s officials and some players–Bokuto even greeted him, but Shoyo only smiled at him–before his eyes found Atsumu, and Atsumu could’ve sworn his entire face lit up, like–

What the fuckkkkkkkkkkkk!

How could Atsumu never notice it? It was so obvious. So goddamn obvious that Atsumu would appreciate it if someone could just punch him in the face right now. He thought he had it in him to see if someone even slightly attracted to him, but it took him accidentally hearing Shoyo masturbating to him to know? Miya Atsumu, you didn’t deserve that Japan Volleyball’s Best Bachelor title from that Men’s Health magazine or whatever.

Okay. Deep breath. He was human. He failed to notice that his favorite teammate ever was in love with him, so what? Atsumu knew now, and he had every intention to make it right. For whatever reasons Shoyo was hiding it from him, Atsumu would make sure Shoyo didn’t have to do it again from now on. Just like how Atsumu’s effort to give the best toss always reciprocated by Shoyo, Atsumu would give his love for Shoyo a hundred times more.

That was Atsumu’s biggest skill, after all. He had an abundance of love to give.

“Atsumu-san!” Shoyo was practically hopping toward him, something about his smile was making Atsumu’s chest tightened, and that was only part of the problem. The biggest problem was– “Why did you leave so early? Should’ve woken me up so we can jog together,” Shoyo said as soon as he took a seat across from Atsumu, putting off his cap and ruffling his own sweat-matted hair like the ultimate heartthrob that he was, and Atsumu completely lost it–

“Do you have someone you like, Shoyo-kun?”

So, what was the plan again?

Atsumu would let Shoyo eat breakfast first, maybe they would chat a bit about their previous practice match the other day, or maybe they would talk about Shoyo’s plan to stay in MSBY for good for the rest of his career since he had expressed his desire to not sign with any foreign clubs anymore. And only after that, only when they seemed to run out of things to talk about, Atsumu would breach into personal territory. Maybe asking about his life, his family, before he got into his dating life. Got Shoyo comfortable before he asked the question, y’know?

So much for the ultimate question to be uttered last.

Well, Atsumu wasn’t some saint, but seeing Shoyo’s smile twitching for a millisecond did get him feeling a little bit guilty. 

“Huh?” Shoyo put his cap on his side as he folded his arms on the table, leaning over until their faces were so close but not close enough for Atsumu to be able to count the freckles under his eyes. “What’s the sudden question, Atsumu-san?”

This was Atsumu’s sign to backtrack a little bit. “I don’t know,” Atsumu shrugged, hoping that it didn’t show as much that he was just playing it cool. “I just realized that I never asked about your love life.”

“Why would you be interested in my love life?” Shoyo tilted his head. So cute. So adorable. Atsumu wanted to bite him.

“Can’t I? Can’t a setter know more about his spikers?”

“Did you ask your other spikers about this, Atsumu-san?”

Clever, clever Shoyo-kun. Atsumu wouldn’t expect any less from his favorite spiker. “I don’t need to ask them. I usually observe. But you–you are pretty difficult to read, Shoyo-kun?”

“Really?” Shoyo’s features seemed to relax a little bit. “Kageyama always says I’m easy to read.”

Atsumu’s jaws ticked. Obviously he wasn’t a fan of other men’s names being mentioned when he was currently asking if Shoyo had someone he liked. “Maybe I’m not as good of a setter as Tobio-kun.”

“Hey! That’s not true!” A pout. Atsumu wanted to kiss it. “You’re definitely better than Kageyama. Don’t tell him that, though.”

“Going around from one setter to another saying they’re better,” Atsumu faked a sad sigh. “Such a player, Shoyo-kun.”

Then, Shoyo did the unexpected. He laughed–the type that created dimples under his eyes. Usually Atsumu wouldn’t notice these things (or maybe he did, but he never actually put any thoughts behind his close observations on Shoyo), but after last night, the signs were glaring at him like the summer midday sun.

“I’m not a player,” Shoyo replied, putting his chin on the propped hand above the table. “Believe it or not, I’ve only romantically liked one person my entire life.”

“Haha.” Gods, Atsumu’s laugh couldn’t be more fake. “Do I know them?”

Humming, Shoyo was looking at him straight as if he tried to read the intentions behind his question. When he didn’t find it, he answered. “Maybe.”

Man, Shoyo was getting too obvious. Atsumu could shoot him straight with “It’s me, isn’t it? I know.” But the back and forth was getting too interesting for him to checkmate it here. Instead, Atsumu opted with, “What do you like about them?”

Judging from how Shoyo was masturbating to him last night, Atsumu could guess that Shoyo probably liked him for his body, or his face. And if Shoyo told him he liked him for that, Atsumu would not be disappointed because he was pretty proud of his physique, okay?

The thing about Shoyo, as Atsumu mentioned before, was that he was cute, handsome, and talented. But that was only the surface level of his persona. Anyone that had eyes would be able to see how he had a heart as warm as the sun–he saw the good in people no matter how unkind they were.

So, when the words describing the person he liked was, “Their personality,” Atsumu was left there with no idea how to respond to that.

Wait.

Huh?

The sound of the team bus getting started was not registered in his ears, especially not when the thudding sound of his forehead hitting the bus window was louder. Especially not when his brain was taking all the concentration ability in him to come up with the explanation as to how his speculation had taken the wrong turn.

Atsumu had chosen the most far back seat in the team bus to avoid anyone, especially Shoyo, except Shoyo, disturbing his brain-racking time. He needed all his brain power to deduct everything.

Let’s start from the beginning. Shoyo masturbated to him, so he at least liked Atsumu physically, enough to get him off. Atsumu asked if he had someone he liked and asked what he liked about that person–the answer was their “personalities”. Now, Atsumu would speak highly of his body, face, and talent, but personalities? He wasn’t so much of narcissistic to pretend that he had good personalities. He guessed he was decent at best, and probably only toward Shoyo. But was it good enough for Shoyo to like him because of it?

So, the conclusion? The person Shoyo liked was not Atsumu.

That should be the end of it. It was a misunderstanding on Atsumu's part for assuming that Shoyo was in love with him based on little evidence he had.

It wasn't that Atsumu was in love with him, too. Pfftt… please . He didn't even know how it worked between two men.

But–

So Shoyo could have someone he truly liked for their personality, and Atsumu was just a masturbating tool, huh? And there was Atsumu already imagining their whole life together! How about his plan to wake up next to Shoyo every morning, then? What about his fantasies of being the only person to be the recipient of Shoyo's special smile? What was he going to do with his rapidly growing feeling?

Totally unacceptable! 

If Atsumu was unable to move on from this misunderstanding, it wasn't his fault. It was Shoyo's fault for not being into him just for his face and body. Why did Atsumu have to go against someone's personality? How would he measure up to that?

Might as well got Shoyo to like him entirely since he already liked his body anyway. Who was Shoyo to say that he wouldn't like him if he knew Atsumu's actual personality? Maybe Shoyo didn't get to know him well all this time, that was why liking Atsumu beyond his physique was unthinkable to him, but hey, he could be a pretty good boyfriend if he wanted to–if it was Shoyo, he would spoil him rotten.

In hindsight, Atsumu was glad that he knew about this once Shoyo had come back to Japan for good. There was no timetable for him to get Shoyo–he had every time in the world, without fear of him hopping back to Brazil or whatever. There was no rush, Atsumu could slowly figure this out.

It had been his new acquired ability these past few years. He was no longer the eager newbie of the team, he was seniors now who could act “fakingly nonchalant” as Osamu liked to call him out, not “coolly nonchalant” like Kageyama.

So that was what he had been doing for the first few weeks of the revelation. Observing and acting nonchalant. It went well along with his job as a setter, after all. 

Technically, Atsumu didn’t notice any drastic things now that he was aware of Shoyo’s sexual inclinations toward him. But the little things kept piling up daily that it started to mess his head up. 

Sometimes, when Shoyo accidentally brushed his hands as they stood side by side during the team's briefing, Atsumu had the urge so strong to grab him to the nearest locker room and shove him inside, and asked “Are you sure you don't like me?” Or sometimes he caught Shoyo already staring at him when Atsumu tried to search for him, leaving him wanting to shake Shoyo’s shoulders–“ Why are you looking at me like that if you don’t like me?”. Or sometimes, he could see the way Shoyo looked at him when he scored a service ace–like he looked even prouder than Atsumu himself.

Although in the end, it wasn’t even the things that Shoyo did towards him or because of him that made Atsumu want to pull his hair out. It was the things that he noticed in passing about Shoyo that threw him out of the loop.

Like how Shoyo would be the last one to leave the gym, not because he was such a volleyball freak, but because he enjoyed talking to everyone, down to the last person. Like the fact that he would constantly get calls from practically everyone on earth, probably, judging how often it was–since he was still attached to his high school friends, his rivals, and his teammates in Brazil, and those people seemed to care a lot about him. Or, how Shoyo would stop to greet every fan that came to him after the match, no matter the age or gender they were, he would talk to them for minutes, laughing and hugging them like they were his best friends.

And these little things… both infuriated and comforted Atsumu. He had half a wish that Shoyo was actually a bad person–which was impossible, he knew Shoyo was a good person–so Atsumu could have a reason to not imagine life with him. But Shoyo was obviously making it hard for him to do that.

There was an idiom that went “opposites attract”. And on the surface, that idiom shouldn’t be applicable to Atsumu and Shoyo, since so many people had said how similar they were. Their loud and bright persona, their hunger for volleyball, their hardheadedness. But watching Shoyo for the past few weeks only affirmed him that they were painfully different. 

Atsumu. Atsumu didn’t like talking to people–he didn’t even like people. He was talented, so he was cocky about it. And he was definitely not polite.

Atsumu didn’t care if people didn’t like him, and it still didn’t matter to him. And yet, the more days Atsumu spent watching Shoyo, the more the difference between both of them mattered to him. So, in the process, despite his initial plan to make Shoyo fall in love with him, Atsumu avoided him, instead.

It was a testament of his patience that he managed to not tell Osamu about it (because it would be totally embarrassing to admit that Shoyo was only using him as a masturbating tool). But weirdly, it all started with Osamu–or more precisely, at Onigiri Miya.

Well, not really the start, start, but–the start.

The real beginning happened when it was a normal enough day. The match on that day ended with MSBY winning the whole season for ten matches straight. Therefore, celebration was in order, and the giddy feelings of getting the MVP title of the match was still lingering even when Atsumu had passed the point of being drunk.

And then, the thing occurred.

Shoyo was talking to him. With how the past few weeks Atsumu evidently avoided him, it was a wonder that Shoyo was even talking to him.

Atsumu had taken a seat as far away as possible from Shoyo. The izakaya was designed with one long table, so it would take a person a hell of a neck if they wanted to talk to each other if they sat on the opposite end of the table. But Shoyo walked toward him instead, and sat by his side, leaning over his shoulder to whisper something.

“Isn’t this your fifth MVP for this season, Atsumu-san?” In Atsumu’s drunken mind, Shoyo looked absolutely bashful. 

“Yes? Maybe?” Atsumu slurred. “What am I MVP for again?”

Shoyo laughed, and Atsumu wanted to thank Shoyo's mom for giving birth to such an adorable son. “Because you played amazing today, Atsumu-san.”

“Must be not as amazing as you.”

“You’re the one who got the MVP,” Shoyo shrugged, but his smile stayed. “Must be because you're the most amazing.”

“Well, then, the one who decided who the MVP today sucked.”

“Like I sucked at volleyball back then?”

Atsumu groaned, and unknowingly slouched more into the low table, his cheeks planted on it. “Will you keep bringing up our first meeting to win an argument with me?”

“I just think I need to hold it against you longer since you really hurt my feelings.”

Atsumu sneered. “Brat.” And thanks to the liquid courage, Atsumu kept on blabbering. “So are you here only to congratulate me?”

To which Shoyo responded with a confused look. “Do you have something in mind? A gift?”

“Or we can go eat somewhere.” At this point, Atsumu’s alcohol-induced brain had failed to categorize whether this was considered flirting or not. “My treat.”

Definitely wasn't something Shoyo had expected when he came to Atsumu, judging from how his face morphed into shock, as if he just heard Atsumu ask him for a date. Which he did. Shoyo just didn't know.

“Really? Wait– Isn't it supposed to be my treat? It's you who got your fifth MVP.”

“Can't your senpai treat you whenever he wanted? Come on, Shoyo-kun,” Atsumu straightened up, and–Gods, he was going to regret it later for being so brazen–leaned over to whisper in his ears. “Celebrate with me.” Have a date with me .

Shoyo agreed–thank God–must be because he wanted to see how Atsumu would be on a date.

So, that was how it all started. And while Atsumu mentally cursed himself for going into this with no particular plan, he still patted himself on the back because his impromptu invitation was justified. He wanted Shoyo to like him for his personality, what was better than asking him on a date.

Everything seemed to flow pretty nicely after that. No more awkward avoiding from Atsumu's end, no more flirting-not flirting.

Until–

Of course Shoyo would pale up as soon as they arrived at the restaurant Atsumu had chosen for the day. It was almost comical, the way he slowly turned his head toward Atsumu, his eyes blown wide.

“This is where we eat?”

Atsumu had to bite the inside of his cheeks to prevent himself from smiling smugly. “Stop looking so scandalized like that.”

“Because this is a fine dining restaurant!” 

“Yes, and?” Okay, Atsumu should probably take Shoyo seriously since he began to look hysterical, but Atsumu was shallow enough to admit that he was kinda distracted by how hot Shoyo was for their not-date. He had a knack of looking like he walked off the cover of a magazine photoshoot just by wearing the most ordinary clothes, like t-shirt and denim jacket, which meant it was a daily occurrence to witness him looking completely exquisite and delectable, unfortunately or fortunately for Atsumu.

“I’m not letting you pay for my meal to celebrate your achievement in an expensive fine dining restaurant, Atsumu-san,” Shoyo said, flabbergasted. “We’re not eating here.”

Seeing a twenty-eight year old man stomping his legs away shouldn’t make him feel butterflies in his stomach, but it did, very much so that Atsumu couldn’t hold his growing smile. Seriously, what was with him? What was this lightheaded feeling as he was practically bouncing trying to keep up with Shoyo’s steps?

“So, where are we going, then?” Atsumu chirped, his tone was higher than he intended it to be. Obviously Shoyo would be able to hear how amused he was with this whole situation.

“Onigiri Miya,” Shoyo huffed out, without even looking at him. “My treat. Don’t even think about fighting me in this, Atsumu-san. Just follow me.”

Shoyo had not even realized it, hadn’t he? Atsumu would follow him to hell if he asked him.

Atsumu would marry him underneath the tree right here and then.

That was how they ended up having their true beginning at Onigiri Miya. Somehow, the idea of having to explain to Osamu about the whole situation–like, him and Shoyo? Together? Just the two of them? On their day off?–completely slipped Atsumu’s mind until the very moment he stepped inside the little shop, sweeping aside the shop’s dark blue curtain, and locked gaze with his twin’s wide-eyed look of confusion.

If this was a movie, Atsumu imagined Osamu would already drop that half triangle shaped onigiri in his hands. Instead, he only threw a business smile into their direction that didn't quite meet his eyes.

“Welcome, Shoyo-kun, should've told me that you're coming.”

“Why are you not welcoming me?” Atsumu pushed Shoyo lightly to sit on the seat directly in front of Osamu, before he took the one beside him. “And it's Hinata to you.”

Still ignoring Atsumu's existence, Osamu leaned forward to give Shoyo his genuine smile. “Want something specific or the usual, Shoyo?”

“You really wanna die, Samu?” The shop was empty at this late afternoon hour–Atsumu could definitely do it.

“The usual, please.” Shoyo didn't even bat an eye. This occurrence was already too familiar to him. “And whatever Atsumu-san wants. I'm treating him today.”

Osamu hummed–the kind of hum that only meant “interesting” –as he shot Atsumu a look. Someone was definitely going to call him later tonight.

“And what’s the occasion again?” Osamu asked, starting to work on their orders.

“Atsumu-san got his fifth MVP title for this season,” Shoyo said with equal excitement as if he was the one who got it.

Had anyone been this proud of him? Atsumu was sure his twin, family, or his friends and teammates had been happy for all his achievement. But Shoyo did it in a such not roundabout way, and that wasn’t something Atsumu usually got from everyone else–that it made it hard sometimes to receive and accept his direct joy towards him. 

“Did he?” Osamu shot him another glance, then an unexpected smile. “It’s a call for celebration, then.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” As though he had been offended by Atsumu’s lukewarm reaction for the MVP title, Shoyo looked at him with a pout. Atsumu had never been one of those people who are obsessed with pouts, but he thought he was starting to get the appeal.

Osamu left them alone to chat after he got them their order, just in time when the rush of early evening customers hit–some high schoolers who just finished with their club activities who acted like they would go into cardiac arrest if they didn’t get served in the next five seconds. Atsumu and Shoyo could only giggle as they watched the exasperated look of Osamu.

“I’m sorry that I can only bring you here though, Atsumu-san.”

“Why?” Atsumu blinked. “This is my favorite food on earth, so why would I not be happy?”

Shoyo, who somehow had already finished with his onigiri, looked up to him and swallowed. “Should’ve taken you to a nicer place.”

“Wasn’t I the one who asked you to go out with me?” Atsumu tried to make his voice casual, although he could feel his cheeks getting warmer. “You have no idea how happy I am right now.”

His spiker perked up at that. “You are?”

“Hm. You’re not a bad date, Shoyo-kun.”

Immediately, the sound of a falling knife echoed throughout the whole shop–from his peripheral vision, Atsumu could tell Osamu was whipping his head toward him with an appalled look–and almost at the same time, Shoyo’s eyes widened in shock. Ah, unfortunately for Shoyo, Atsumu was not a good person, so he would push whatever agenda he had.

For a moment, Atsumu just watched Shoyo sputter nervously, and thought to himself. Why did he avoid Shoyo again? He felt incredibly unequipped when Shoyo told him about the person he liked. He just immediately assumed that it was not him, but what if it was him?

Shoyo listened to the most bullshit thing he had to say. Shoyo laughed at his lamestestest jokes. Shoyo went out of his way to congratulate his MVP title while no one mentioned it the whole night because it was the party for the team’s winning streak. Shoyo made sure that Atsumu was having a good time today.

Maybe Shoyo was simply a good person. Atsumu wouldn’t be surprised if he did that to other people. But for now, Atsumu would like to believe that he was the only one that got treated this way.

“Hey, Shoyo-kun,” Atsumu wasn’t sure if Shoyo was okay if he shot him the question right in the middle of a busy room like this, but Atsumu would be damned if he went home today without knowing the answer to it. “So, remember when I– Uhh… I asked you if you have someone you like? Yeah, so– You said you like their personality. What kind of person are they?”

Shoyo blinked, briefly deterred, before there was a certain gleam in his eyes that Atsumu couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was supposed to mean. 

“Hmm…” Shoyo looked like he was contemplating something in the fakest way possible. “I wonder if you could guess who it was if I told you.”

“Are they someone I know?” Atsumu asked, oddly sharp even in his own ears.

Shoyo tilted his head. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Maybe yes, maybe no?” It was alarming how endearing Atsumu found him. “Do you want to know?”

It took everything in him to not immediately yell yes! Instead, Atsumu took the ocha cup in front of him, and very calmly drank the remnant of it, shrugging, “If you want.”

Atsumu supposed he looked ridiculous, because he glanced at Osamu once more, and his twin was looking at him like Atsumu just spit on his cooked rice.

Well, could anyone blame him? A man needed clarity to live peacefully, okay?

Atsumu was halfway from throwing back a disgusted look toward Osamu when Shoyo cleared his throat.

“The person I like…” His tone implied that he wasn’t sure what to say. But soon, his uncertainty was replaced by absolute fondness in his eyes. “He’s handsome. Well, everyone thinks he’s handsome–even he himself knows that he’s handsome–and I guess he is, but I can’t really tell whether someone is good looking or not. He’s definitely charming, though.”

Atsumu swallowed. So, Shoyo wasn’t a superficial person. At this point, could he scratch the suspicion that Shoyo only used him as masturbating material?

“He’s also very skillful. I’ve lost count of how many times I complimented his… everything–his serves, spikes, sets, blocks, receives. But again, many people admired him for that, too. So I guess I’m not that special. Although I can only speak for myself that I must be the person who enjoyed it the most when he played with all his heart.”

A volleyball player. So Atsumu definitely knew this person.

He kinda needed an oxygen tank or whatever it was that could help him breathe right now.

“While I admired him for the things I just told you, I like him for a whole nother reason,” Shoyo paused, biting at his bottom lip. “He’s actually really lame, although he tried really hard to look cool. He thinks he’s funny, but his jokes are often, haa… really unfunny, sometimes. He’s also very stubborn and hardheaded, which I normally hate since I’m also like that, but strangely I can get behind it.”

Atsumu frowned.

Okay, uhm.

He might be a setter, therefore people would expect his intelligence level was beyond average human being, but Atsumu was actually really inexperienced with this kind of thing. It was proven true for the past few weeks with how he dealt with the whole Shoyo thing, and now his spiker really needed to prove that his ability to put two and two together was below zero.

Someone handsome. Knew he was handsome. An all-rounder in volleyball. Uncool. Unfunny. An asshole.

Atsumu felt like he was swallowing a boulder when he finally found his voice again. “The person you like,” he blinked repeatedly, a crease between his eyebrows. “...is Oikawa-kun?”

Shoyo snorted, then immediately followed by Osamu’s stronger one.

And Atsumu was left confused and dumbfounded–if he could see himself in the mirror right now, he probably would see how red his face was–as the two of his least favorite people on earth right at this moment were laughing at him.

“What?” Atsumu hissed, cautious. Did they not realize that his heart was on the verge of breaking? “Is it not?”

“Oh my God,” Osamu muttered in between his laugh, “Shoyo-kun, I think you missed the point that the person you like is a huge idiot.”

“So it’s true it’s Oikawa-kun?” Atsumu looked back at Shoyo, hoping his face didn’t really show just how close he was to tears. “Or is it Tobio-kun? No– Tobio-kun doesn’t know that he’s handsome, so it can’t be him.”

Osamu was still snickering, while Shoyo was no longer laughing at him. For some reason, his eyes were beaming as his mouth curled into a soft smile–both were directed toward him. “Do you want to go outside with me, Atsumu-san?”

This might be the worst night of Atsumu’s life.

They walked around the neighbourhood until they arrived at some small, empty park.

Truthfully, Atsumu would love to just throw himself off a cliff right there and then. Even the sad excuse of the park’s dim lamp looked more alive than him. But, Shoyo seemed to still want to stay with him, and what was Atsumu supposed to do other than agree? He could never, ever, say no to his favorite spiker. Definitely not before, and not now even though he just got dumped (he didn’t get dumped, but it felt a lot like it).

“Oh, there's empty swings. Let’s go there, Atsumu-san!” Shoyo grabbed his hand, and Atsumu steeled himself.

“Uhh…” he looked down at their linked hands, and instinct just took over from there. “How about you go ahead, Shoyo-kun? I’m gonna buy some drinks for us at the convenience store nearby.”

“Are you okay, Atsumu-san?” Shoyo actually pulled his hand back, like he knew that his touch was the one overwhelming Atsumu right now.

Actually, I want to throw up somewhere because getting the confirmation that the person you like is not me hit me more than I had expected–like what the hell, why does it feel like I’ve just broken up with you? Is that #4 comment on the forum right? Could I like you even before this? Because I shouldn’t be this heartbroken if I didn’t, right? And now I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I want to go to the nearest bar and down ten or twenty-one shots, but I also don’t want to be separated from you. I want to be with you until the morning sunrise and–

“I’m fine.” Gods, his throat was burning. “Just a minute. Don’t go anywhere, Shoyo-kun.”

Then Atsumu turned around, his steps following the bright light of the convenience store board.

He just needed to take a breath, clear his head, and head back to Shoyo. He would pretend that all the things that happened since that day were not real. It was all in his head, and he should just forget about it.

And he should probably move to another country because how could he move on from Shoyo?

It was a blur starting from where he was entering the convenience store. He wasn’t even aware what he picked from the fridge and went straight to the cashier.

“Just milk?”

Only then Atsumu looked down at the stuff he put onto the cashier table, and up to see the cashier. A man who looked like he couldn’t care less about what Atsumu bought and only asked out of courtesy.

“Yeah,” Atsumu started. “I would love to get some alcohol, but I’m an athlete, you know? Match tomorrow. Can’t risk it or else I’d get benched. Which is the last thing I want now, because the guy I like said the person he likes is skillful. Need to show him I’m skillful, too, and that he should forget that other person’s ass and just be with me.”

Poor man just nodded at him. He must’ve seen some worse thing around here, because he just rang Atsumu up in silence, before he handed the plastic bag with two cartons of milk inside. “Good luck, man.”

Dude was a real one.

As soon as Atsumu stepped out of the store, he was half hoping the world would implode in the next second, just so he would not have to see Shoyo. But at the same time, it meant Atsumu would live his life without knowing how it felt like to kiss Shoyo, and that was somehow worse than the world ending.

So Atsumu began walking back toward the park, his head starting to plan what he would do tonight to mend his broken heart. Probably delete every selfie he had with Oikawa on his phone, write hate comments about Oikawa on volleyball forums, and he would watch some depressing shits to have an excuse to cry. He was contemplating between the seventh episode of Dandadan or the last thirty minutes of the Mugen Train movie, or just straight up murdering his heart with Grave of the Fireflies.

What pulled him out of stupor was the sight of Shoyo leaning back from the swing, his head facing the dark sky, and Atsumu was eaten by the urge to cuddle with Shoyo until the end of time.

Did he have to give up everything? Everything that he had dared to dream of about him and Shoyo, just because Shoyo was in love with someone else? Atsumu was rotten to the core, and the only thing he could come up with as an excuse was that they’re not married yet, they're not even together, I can still make Shoyo fall in love with me. But the thought of doing it to his favorite person on earth was making him sick, so Atsumu put that in the back of his mind for the time being, and continued walking toward Shoyo.

“I'm back,” Atsumu said, his voice a little faint.

The way Shoyo turned his head to him and immediately his eyes lit up was all carefully stored in Atsumu's brain for future reference–that hey, Shoyo might not be romantically interested in you, but he looked at you like you were more beautiful than the moon he just gaze upon a few seconds ago.

“You're back,” Shoyo replied. Somehow, there was a smile in his voice rather than Atsumu seeing it physically. “I thought you might ditch me or something. You took so long, Atsumu-san.”

“Why would I ditch you?” Atsumu took the empty swing right beside Shoyo, the creaking sound of the iron chain was not disappointing. “Here, I got you a drink.”

Atsumu handed him the milk carton, and Shoyo didn't hesitate to take it. “I don't know,” he opened the side of the carton, but paused before he started downing it. “You look– you didn't look good.”

“Did I?” Atsumu chuckled, but it was dry even to his own ears. “That bad, huh? Sorry that you had to see that, Shoyo-kun.”

“What happened?” Shoyo started to lean toward him, making the chain strained to his direction. “I noticed your mood turned sour since we were at Onigiri Miya.”

“Why do you think, Shoyo-kun?” Atsumu smiled, his eyes struggling to see the minuscule change of Shoyo's expression that he desperately needed to see.

Shoyo, for all his perfection, proved to be lost of words for a few seconds. Like he was trying so hard to come up with an explanation. “Does this–your sour mood–have something to do with… my confession about the person I like?”

“Actually, my mood is more than sour right now.” Sour mood wouldn't make him want to drink twenty-one shots of tequila.

Atsumu thought he might see hesitations in Shoyo's eyes. But the most blatant thing was the way Shoyo bit his lower lip, his throat constricted like he was swallowing sand. “To be honest, I noticed something changed in you the day–no, the morning, after that night we shared a hotel room a few weeks ago.” He paused, then his eyelash trembled. “Did I– Did you–”

Maybe Atsumu was imagining it, but there was a tint of red in Shoyo’s cheeks. 

“That night, could you possibly hear… me?”

Then Atsumu lowered his gaze, no longer able to hold onto those eyes that were staring up at him with a whole lot of shame, while it was him that was supposed to be at fault here. It was an accidental eavesdropping at the start, Atsumu was the one who made a big deal out of it. The whole misunderstanding, and heartbreak, came from Atsumu’s own mind, and he had no intention of putting the blame on Shoyo, and it would kill him if this ordeal would make his and Shoyo’s relationship awkward.

“I did,” Atsumu muttered, his fingers playing with the opened part of the milk carton. “I’m so sorry, Shoyo-kun. I didn’t mean to listen to it, but it was just– the hotel soundproof was not– It was definitely bad. But also I should’ve stopped listening the moment I realized what you were doing, but instead I was–”

Shoyo groaned, and that was where Atsumu finally looked back at him. For a second, his heart sank, thinking the groan coming from how annoyed Shoyo was at him, but instead Shoyo had discarded his milk carton to the side, and his two hands were now busy covering his face. Atsumu didn’t expect the flush that was riding high all the way through his ears.

“That was so embarrassing. I can’t believe you heard that.” Shoyo rubbed a hand over his face, and he weirdly looked like he was one second from running away from here, and Atsumu shared the sentiment, honestly. He almost didn’t want to hear how disappointed Shoyo was in him. “So that’s why you’ve been avoiding me all this time.”

“What?” Atsumu hissed, then with a little more heat. “ What? No! I didn’t avoid you because of that, I– Wait, Shoyo-kun, what are you thinking right now?”

The whiplash caused by Shoyo managed to pull Atsumu out of his pathetic state and foggy mind, and put himself into his intelligent setter brain for a second to assess this whole situation. What were they talking about right now? Were they even on the same page?

“That you were avoiding me because you’re disgusted with me, and that's why you never confront me about it.”

Atsumu closed his eyes and had to take a deep, deep breath, because what the actual– “Firstly, disgusted? Me? By you ? In what universe I could ever be disgusted by you. I would give the sun to you, Shoyo-kun. Second, how could I confront you about that? That would be so– That’s uncool, and I can’t let you see the not cool side of me. You’d hate me.”

Shoyo was silent for a moment, a crease in between his eyebrows and his eyes sharp indicating that he was studying Atsumu. And he must’ve found out something–probably through Atsumu’s expression, or from nitpicking Atsumu each and every word–because suddenly there was a flicker in his eyes. Like something clicked in his brain. Like a detective who just solved a case. Like a spiker who saw a clear path at the moment of his jump.

“Atsumu-san,” Shoyo said, slowly, steadily. “You think you’re cool?”

Atsumu learned a lot about himself these past few weeks through this whole experience. Such as he was a good masturbating tool, and the fact that he was so quick to fall in love–or maybe he was already in love to begin with, he just didn’t know it–, and the fact that he thought he was cool, but apparently he wasn’t. Atsumu’s world might as well have crumbled into dust at this point.

“You don’t think I–” Atsumu gulped. “Then why did you use me as masturbating material? Is it really just because of my face and body?”

“No! I mean, yes, but no, that’s not what I meant to say!” Shoyo groaned and paused, like he was taking the time to collect himself, to think of what to say next, which was good. Atsumu also needed time to prepare himself for the next grenade Shoyo would throw at him. “Didn’t you hear what I said about the person I like?”

Oh, gosh. Here we go. Talking about Oikawa, or any other men in connection to Shoyo’s crush, was the last thing he wanted to do right now. “Yes. The person you like is someone handsome. Cocky enough to know that he’s handsome. Good at volleyball. Lame and humorless. The only criteria that fit me are that I’m handsome and good at volleyball. See? Face and body.”

The amusement in Shoyo’s face couldn’t be more apparent. “Did you avoid me because you thought I only used you for your face and body?”

“No, I only knew about the person you liked back there at Onigiri Miya, remember? I avoid you because… because…” Atsumu sighed. He didn’t intend to come clean now, only later when he had succeeded in his plan on making Shoyo forget that piece of shit of a crush of his, but it was impossible now to avoid the topic. “Since I knew that you masturbated to me–” Shoyo grimaced at that, “–my eyes just naturally gravitated towards you every single time, and I noticed a lot of things about Shoyo-kun that usually I would never. I realized that we’re extremely different, and it kinda frustrated me, I guess.”

“Why are we being different, make you avoid me? Am I such a bad person now in your eyes?”

“Nonono, Gods, no,” Atsumu waved his hands crazily. “You’re just so…” he sighed. “ ...good. How could I ever compare to Shoyo-kun? At that time, I told myself, I would make Shoyo-kun so in love with me that it would never be just physical with you. But seeing how different we are, was like being given a mental slap that I was only embarrassing myself for thinking you’d ever like me for… me.”

Out of all the things that he said until now, this was the part that made Shoyo frown deepest. “Atsumu-san, that's far from true.”

Atsumu chuckled. “I’m not saying I’m insecure about myself, Shoyo-kun. Don’t worry. That’s just me being a little bit down, but you know what, you congratulating me the other day actually gave me a tiny bit of hope once more. I thought that maybe… you really do like me.” Atsumu’s lips curled in the end into a sad smile. “Until you told me what kind of person the person you like, that is.”

That was it. He had laid himself bare and practically had given Shoyo the knife to twist into his heart–and even then, Atsumu would gladly accept it. If after this Shoyo would cut ties with him, Atsumu hoped he would still get to set to Shoyo, at the very least.

“Before you say anything, though, Shoyo-kun,” Atsumu said after a beat of silence. “I have every intention to woo you into liking me. I mean, if you say it outright to me right now, that the possibility of us getting together is below zero, I’d step back. But if not, I would like your approval to officially court you and make you fall in love with me. Because in all honesty, that person you like, from your description, doesn’t sound like that great of a person. I’m not trying to boast myself here, but I think I'm much better than that pers–”

Atsumu didn’t get to finish his sentence before he saw Shoyo get up from the swing, the sound of the iron chain rattling startled him and made him freeze, as he felt the remnants of his words died down in his tongue with the touch of Shoyo’s palms taking him by the jaws, and suddenly the sky was replaced by the sight of Shoyo who was standing in front of him, slowly leaning down, like he was about to–

It was a few seconds later that Atsumu’s brain caught up with the rest of what happened to his body. Shoyo was kissing him. His lips were soft on Atsumu. His hands were steady, cupping his cheeks. Atsumu could feel the warmth of Shoyo’s breath all over his face, and his neck began to hurt with the constraints of Shoyo pulling his jaw to meet him in the middle, but Atsumu couldn’t care less. Personally, Atsumu would love to make out for the rest of his life in the park, but he was getting hard and Atsumu didn’t think Shoyo would appreciate getting fucked here.

So Atsumu pulled apart first, dazed and stunned, and possibly lost the ability to speak. “Wh–What?”

Still with his hands cupping his cheeks, and still leaning down with his face only a mere inches from Atsumu, Shoyo smiled. “The person I like, the person I love –handsome, knew that he’s handsome, annoyingly talented in volleyball but weirdly could match my crazy play, the coolest and funniest but oddly at the same time the lamest and unfunniest person, stubborn and honest which made him sound like a jerk sometime, but also very affectionate and caring and full of love–is you, Atsumu-san.”

Atsumu blamed the extreme mental and emotional gymnastics that he had experienced for the past few weeks for the loss of his last brain cells, because of all the things he could say to Shoyo’s confession–oh Gods, was that confession? That was a confession, right?–he replied with, “You think I’m lame and unfunny?”

Shoyo blinked at him, visibly confused, until he threw his head back as loud laughter came out of his pretty lips that Atsumu very much wanted to kiss again. “Ah, Atsumu-san,” Shoyo leaned down once more. “You’re definitely funny when you’re not trying.”  

"So it's not Oikawa-kun?"

"That's what I was confused about. Why did you bring up Oikawa-san?"

"You like me, for my personality?"

"Yes. I love you for your personality."

"You didn't just jerking off to me because of my face and body."

"I did not. Though I must admit you're hotter than the sun, Atsumu-san." And he kissed him again. 

This time, Atsumu kissed back in earnest. He didn’t want to let go. He would never let go. “Do you want to keep just masturbating to me or do you want to date this lame and unfunny person, Shoyo-kun? Because I definitely want to date you, maybe marry you in the future. And maybe we can masturbate together at some point.”

Shoyo blessed him with another laughter. And this boyfriend of his dared to say he was unfunny? Tsk.

5. This is juicy I'm looking forward to know the continuation (sorry for not helping)

-reply to answer #5-

Y’ALL. Strap in. Because what started as me committing a minor crime (eavesdropping) has somehow turned into me having a boyfriend.

So yeah. We’re dating now. My crimes led to romance. 10/10, would eavesdrop again. But honestly I prefer doing it with him now. 1000000000/10 experience.