Archive of Our Own

Suna can think of several different ways he could be spending his weekend. That’s if he holds himself to society’s standards. Certain expectations come with the career he chose, certain biases, and Suna has seen enough across various media platforms to have a general idea of what his weekends should look like.

To be fair, an average weekend probably follows those guidelines. It’s only on a special weekend like this one, that Suna always finds himself coerced into manual labour. All because he befriended a cunning tyrant with a twisted sense of humour.

A friendship he always regrets thirty minutes in whatever task he is handed. 

Today, Suna is stacking sacks of rice in a poorly lit storage room. He is also not making it to thirty minutes. He has no idea how much time has past but he does know he has successfully made a stack of eight sacks and his pile is sturdy enough for him to sit on it now that the will-to-live has left his body.

“We’ve been doing this for five years, give or take,” Ojiro says when he enters the storage room and his eyes land on Suna. He drops the three sacks of rice he was carrying next to the pile Suna has turned into a seat and sighs heavily. “And yet I still don’t know why.”

Suna is reminded then, that if there is any consolation for this situation, it’s that he isn’t the only full-time athlete experiencing this torment. 

“You don’t feel the sweat of manual labour humble your soul?” He asks, head now resting against the back wall of the storage room while he tucks his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “Doesn’t the idea of helping your friend with the small business he rose from the ground fill your heart with warmth and a sense of accomplishment?” He sighs, giving Ojiro his best pitiful expression. “It’s the little things in life, steady-pay-check-san.”

“That’s the speech ya got?” Atsumu cuts in before Ojiro can cuss Suna off. He is walking into the room, two sacks on each shoulder. “All I ever get is: ‘it’s a family business dipshit, do yer part’.”

Ojiro laughs, eyes crinkling while he helps Atsumu set the sacks on his pile. He then takes a look around the storage room, sighs loudly, and heads back out murmuring about not even being halfway done. Suna watches him go wondering where he finds the will before his eyes turn to watch Atsumu sit on the pile he and Ojiro just built.

“Why is this our life?” He asks, leaning his body against Suna before his head falls to rest on Suna’s shoulder.

It’s only because Suna has had years of practice that he manages to keep his body from jolting. His heart, however, skips a beat without his permission. “It’s those arms,” Suna tells him, his mind fully alert. The energy he felt lacking minutes ago magically reemerged to aid in grasping control over his body. “He knows we are scared of him.”

“He is a real bully,” Atsumu adds. “And everyone always thinks I’m the mean one! How’s that fair?”

It’s fair. Osamu may be a bully that takes advantage of his friends by (unknowingly) flaunting those overgrown biceps but that hardly makes him the meaner twin. Atsumu has him beat without question. Not that it’s a bad thing, Suna would like to add. Atsumu’s meanness is one of his better qualities in his opinion. But that’s mostly because Suna is:

A) also mean and, 

B) in love with Atsumu.  

“Seriously?” Ojiro’s voice rings through before Suna can reply. He and Atsumu groan in unison as Ojiro comes back inside the storage room with another set of sacks, this time with Akagi and Ginjima trailing behind him with two sacks of rice each. “These bags ain’t moving themselves. Don’t make me call Samu.”

“You’d think being athletes would improve their endurance.” Akagi teases.

“It’s been almost a decade and they are still the grunt of the litter,” Ginjima adds, receiving a kick from both Suna and Atsumu when they stand up.

“It’s always the two of ya,” Ojiro sighs disapprovingly, adding the sacks to the pile before he is clasping his hands on both their necks. Suna whines while Atsumu screeches loudly. “We’ve been here for like thirty minutes and we got a mountain to move.”

He uses the grip he has to push them out of the storage room and back in the direction of the delivery truck. Atsumu complains the entire way while Suna tries to put weight on his feet to make Ojiro’s manhandling job harder.

“Lazy shits,” Osamu calls out, appearing out of nowhere after Ojiro successfully guides them to the back of the store. “If we are late for dinner, I’m telling Ma it's yer fault.”

“I feel targeted,” Suna states, dragging his feet over to the truck after Ojiro removes the grip from his neck. 

“Tell me about it.” Atsumu huffs under his breath. Suna hums in response, brushing his shoulder against Atsumu’s. 

“Fuckin’ bully." They say in unison.

“I heard that!” Osamu yells. Suna and Atsumu grin at each other and say nothing else on the matter. 

Against their will, they continue to work under Osamu’s watchful eyes. They follow his orders, huffing and puffing the entire time. 

Out of all their friends, they complain the most (though Ojiro comes a close second after the fit he threw when Osamu had him go through some paperwork) and because they are dramatic little whiners, Osamu gives them the least work. 

Which is how Suna and Atsumu planned it. 

Like Ojiro stated earlier, they’ve been doing this for five years. This being working for Osamu’s restaurant on the Saturday after a week of training with the national team. With Ojiro, Atsumu and Suna gathered in Tokyo with the same schedule, it makes sense to start up the tradition.

Though working for Osamu had not been in the original plan. The first three times the three of them travelled to Hyogo after training was to meet up with the rest of the Inarizaki Volleyball club alumni for a small get-together. They spent the Saturday eating and drinking and then on Sunday they visited family or any other friends before they parted ways and went back to their regular lives.

On their fourth trip, Kita and Osamu tried to bail on the meet-up due to being behind schedule on a delivery and Suna had stupidly offered his help alongside the rest of their friends. It was supposed to be a one-time thing. They would just help Osamu and Kita and in exchange, Osamu would treat them to free food and Kita would buy the first round of drinks.

Well, somehow they ended up eating at the Miya household instead of at Osamu’s restaurant like they had all assumed would be the case. Somehow, Osamu had convinced his parents to open up their home to a bunch of overgrown adults—and get this, Osamu’s mom had been the one to feed them while his dad eventually showed up with a bag filled with beer and sake. 

Atsumu had been the most surprised out of all of them. (“Ma, dad, is he blackmailing ya? Blink twice if ya need help.” Atsumu’s outburst was rewarded with a smack to the back of his head, courtesy of his mom.)

They got a whole speech about being such hard workers and successful adults— it’s only natural for parents to want to treat their children every once in a while. Those had been Miya Yuki’s (“call me Ma, none of that Miya-san”) words. Then Miya Haru (“Miya-sama should suffice,”) reinforced his wife’s words with a rant about restaurants selling overpriced food and alcohol much to the amusement of Atsumu and the displeasure of Osamu. 

Needless to say, it had been quite a shocking day. Especially considering it was the first time most of them were seeing the Miya parents since high school. They were always kind people, they knew that, but this felt special. It’s probably why they forgot the struggle of the work they put in and enjoyed the night to their heart's content. 

The Sunday after went like every other Sunday, though the hangover lasted a bit longer than intended. Then they parted ways and thought nothing more of it. 

Until the next training week was scheduled and another weekend was saved for an Inarizaki reunion. Suna doesn’t know how he did it, but somehow Osamu took the reins and managed to get them back in the restaurant, working under him without pay but with a promise of a home-cooked feast and free alcohol.

Suna knew right then and there that they had fallen into some sort of trap. Atsumu had shared a similar realization, the way his eyes narrowed while reluctantly going along with Osamu’s orders making that clear. No one else was none the wiser. 

Then it kept happening. Again and again, until it was too late and Osamu had somehow bulked up and become the cunning villain they should have all seen coming, considering who his twin is. It was manipulation at its finest. Especially considering Osamu’s business has grown enough that he doesn’t actually need their help. 

Hell, he gives his staff time off every time this sort of weekend comes around— another thing he uses to manipulate them (“Don’t ya feel sorry for them? I guess it’s hard to understand when yer making a steady income. Food service workers are always looked down on.”). Suna does feel sorry for them. Osamu is his boss for no more than a few hours five Saturdays a year and he can confidently state he is the worst boss in existence.

Atsumu obviously agrees and so because he is the only other one who openly complains as much as Suna on every reunion trip, Suna sees no harm in allying with him. 

Read: Suna has that excuse ready in case anyone ever asks but in reality he is simply taking advantage of the situation by creating an opportunity for him to be close to Atsumu (never mind the fact that he is close enough and he doesn’t need a reason to be closer. Or an excuse. Not like anyone is ever going to question him).

Sometime two years ago, Suna and Atsumu spent their entire ‘shift’ being so annoying Osamu banned them from the restaurant. Sure they were tasked with cleaning the back of the store and the entrance but at least they took their time doing so without having Osamu breathing down their necks. They even took unscheduled breaks grabbing bubble tea and dango before kicking a can around in a very serious imitation of the last soccer match they watched together.

That had been an eye-opener. A ray of sunshine sneaking through a peephole that miraculously opened on the clouded skies.

But of course, by the next time, another special weekend came around and Suna and Atsumu tried their luck being annoying, they were read like an open book and down the drain went their hopes and dreams. Osamu never banned them again but that doesn’t mean he won. Suna and Atsumu are still annoying— enough so that they do get away with doing the least amount of work, sneaking out for bubble tea, and even taking a thirty-minute nap on one occasion. Hence: the grunts of the litter.

It’s the only reason Suna hasn’t killed Osamu. How can he when the time he spends with Atsumu is the byproduct of his bullying? (It makes sense in Suna’s head.)

So yeah, Suna can think of several different ways he could be spending his weekend as a professional athlete. But why pick anything else when everything he wants is right here?

He blushes every time he thinks of it that way. 

It’s always during quiet times when everyone is momentarily focused on their tasks and Suna somehow finds his gaze locked on Atsumu. He then always gets caught up on how Atsumu doesn’t notice. How he doesn’t feel his stare when Suna himself can barely fight against the weight of his emotions that appear after his pupils have absorbed what they can from the object of his affection. 

I love you, his heart beats against his chest with those words chained around it. Atsumu, I love you, his tongue itches with the desire to speak out, to confess. 

It’s usually around then that Suna’s lungs make themselves known by refusing to seek out oxygen. His mind then easily gets overwhelmed with fear while a knot forms in his throat to make sure he doesn’t actually do something foolish.

-o-

“How’s tellin’ someone ya love them foolish?”

Suna has an answer for that. He has plenty of answers for that. One of them is: because it will ruin everything, while another example is: “It won’t change anything.” (Yes, he knows they contradict each other. Which is why he only voices one of those answers.)

Ma gives him a disapproving look. Suna knows she would roll her eyes if that had a better effect than her stone-cold expression. “Confessing isn’t foolish,” she scolds, leaving no room for debate. “And though I see ya as a son, I didn’t think it would be possible for ya to acquire that stubbornness and obliviousness the Miya men seem to be cursed with, Rintarou.”

“Now, now,” Miya-sama cuts in. “Give the kid some credit. At least he has his feelings figured out.” He then pauses as his eyes land on Osamu. “The same can’t be said about others.”

Suna bites his cheek to keep himself from laughing. Ma doesn’t bother doing the same. She chuckles fondly as she moves toward Osamu to run her fingers through his hair fondly. 

“You boys really have it out for him, huh?” She sighs, her hand now massaging Osamu’s neck. Suna watches with amusement as Osamu finally stirs from his slumber. “Yer neck is gonna bother you all day, Osamu.” She scowls when Osamu swats her hand away. “This is what ya get for overworkin’ these boys. They get even.” She shoots Suna a look and Suna raises his hands in surrender.

Osamu groans loudly then, his body finally coming to life. He lifts his head from where it has been resting on the dining table. He probably feels that neck pain instantly if the way his face twists to show his discomfort is anything to go by. He squints his eyes before they finally open, his gaze locking on the clock sitting on the kitchen counter. 

“Seven? On a Sunday? Do you hate me?” Ma and Miya-sama roll their eyes at him while Suna smiles at him. Osamu shoots him a glare before his face is expressing his discomfort again as he starts moving his neck from side to side, one hand massaging his shoulder blade. “I’m going to sleep.” He declares.

“Aran’s in your bed,” Suna warns him but it falls on deaf ears as Osamu disappears down the hall without turning around.

“Did everyone else go home?” Ma asks. “I only saw the two futons in the guest room.” She says, her tone changing as she glances back towards Suna before going back to focus on the food she has on the stove.

Suna feels the heat come to his cheeks and quickly ducks his head. “Gin couldn’t drink much last night since he has a family function today, so he offered to drive everyone to wherever they needed to go. Ren and Akagi are staying with their parents. I think Kosaku is visiting a friend.”

“And Shinsuke?”

Suna smiles at the raised eyebrow the twin’s dad shoots him with that question. “Samu crashed before he could offer to pull out a futon for him.”

Miya-sama sighs in defeat and Ma tsks while shaking her head. “That explains why I found Osamu sleeping on the dining table.” She says and then quickly adds: “At least one of my sons has the courtesy to pull out a futon for our guest. You had a good sleep, Rin?”

Suna groans and keeps his head low, avoiding the eyes of the two parental figures in the room. The only two people in the world who know about his feelings for Atsumu. And no, he most definitely didn’t tell them. They somehow, and Suna stills doesn’t know how, figured it out. Three years ago. 

(There are times they claim to have known since high school. Suna is always mortified when they bring that up and to this day refuses to believe them.)

Regardless of the initial embarrassment that came with the knowing looks, pointed gestures, and long interrogations; having the blessing of Atsumu’s parents is an outcome Suna can learn to live with. Especially since they give Suna a chance to get things out of his chest, something he wasn’t able to do for years. 

That alone helped Suna work through the overwhelming pressure of his emotions. Unknowingly, having his feelings bottled up for many years had been damaging to Suna’s self-esteem. At times he would belittle his feelings while he sometimes also found himself giving those feelings too much meaning.

It’s why he is caught up in this infinite pining.

That, in turn, is why whenever Ma has a chance she asks: “Are ya gonna tell him?”

When Suna woke up at six am to the sound of her working in the kitchen, he had joined her knowing well those would be the first words she would utter. Then of course Suna had said something along the lines of never before running through her his most recent thoughts. 

Ma had listened the entire time while Miya-sama joined for the last bit of the conversation that ended with them waking up Osamu. Suna would have loved to keep the conversation going a little longer but having Osamu bring attention to the time tells him the right call was made. 

Like clockwork, Atsumu wakes up at seven-thirty. He joins them in the kitchen, greeting his mom and then taking one look at his dad before groaning with detest. “I’m never drinking again!” He exclaims before taking a seat next to Suna and across from his dad.

Those words bring a memory from just a few hours to the surface of Suna’s mind.

“Never drinkin’ again,” Atsumu promises, eyes closing the moment his head hits the pillow he made himself with his hoodie. 

Suna lays on the futon next to him, the pillow Atsumu stole from Osamu’s bed before Ojiro occupied it feeling soft against his cheek. He closes his eyes, hearing Atsumu stir for a few minutes before the soft snores start and Suna dares to open his eyes. 

He watches Atsumu with half-lidded eyes, his gaze studying every inch of his skin. Atsumu looks tanned, even in the darkness. His hair also looks lighter, though Suna knows Atsumu hasn’t used a toner in a few weeks. His roots have also grown quite a bit even though his undercut looks new. Maybe Atsumu is thinking about finally giving up on dying his hair. Suna makes a mental note to ask him about that later. 

He also makes a note to remind Atsumu to shave sometime soon. Though a part of him does wonder how he would look with facial hair. Facial hair that Suna thinks will prickle his skin if he were to trace Atsumu’s face with his fingers.

Would he also be able to feel the wrinkles that form on the corner of his eyes whenever Atsumu grins? Would he feel the heat coming from his mouth if Suna dared to run a thumb across his lips? Would Atsumu’s face fit between his hands as Suna has always imagined it would—

Miya-sama’s laugh cuts through the memory.

“Atsumu, why didja let yer brother sleep on the table?” Ma then scolds, turning from her work with her hands sitting on her waist. “It’s not good for his posture! He has a work week ahead of him!”

Atsumu scoffs. “Samu’s work consists of watching other people work. Gone are the days that scrub actually worked.”

“The benefits of owning a chain of restaurants,” Miya-sama says lovingly. 

“I make more than him.” Atsumu throws back on reflex.

“Yes, yes.” Ma cuts in while setting down four bowls of rice and egg rolls on the table. “You both are very successful and we are equally proud.” She goes to grab more side dishes before occupying the seat Osamu left empty a few minutes ago. 

“Now if only ya focused on something other than yer careers.” She mumbles under her breath. “Like relationships, a partner, marriage… kids.” 

Suna stands from his seat in a flash. “I’ll go get Aran for breakfast.” He says at the same time that Atsumu groans embarrassed at his mom’s comment.

Suna’s embarrassment simply shows on his cheeks and ears. At least he knows Atsumu doesn’t notice any of that because he is too busy arguing with his mom. His dad’s laughter does, however, tell Suna his tomato imitation did not go completely unnoticed.

This really is his life, huh? He has been pining over someone for a decade and that someone’s parents are the only people that know and they are out here teasing him. Forget what Suna said about having their blessing. They clearly hate him and want him to die of heart failure.

-o-

Embarrassment isn’t the reason Suna’s heart almost gives out that year. 

He always thought real heartache would come if he ever confessed and Atsumu undoubtedly rejected him. Or maybe if Atsumu somehow figured it out and severed every bond he has with Suna to avoid having to hear an explanation. Maybe Atsumu would be so disgusted, so appalled and furious that he’d make sure Suna could never again show his face in front of him.

Heartache is something Suna thought he’d be prepared for.

He is not. 

He doesn’t think anything could have prepared him for this:

“Are you kidding me? This is great! Holy shit Kiyo, fucking finally!” 

Komori shouting into his phone while exposing his entire conversation is a common occurrence in the Raijin locker rooms. Komori excusing himself after his phone rings once and then sneaking into an empty office to take the call is not. And because Komori is his friend and Suna is a very curious person, he doesn’t think eavesdropping on his conversation should come out as a shocker.

If anything, the eye roll Washio gives him when Suna silently follows after him is proof enough that this type of behaviour is expected of him. He is sure Komori won’t be upset and will most likely laugh it out once the call is done and Suna comes clean with questions. 

Besides. It’s just a conversation with his cousin. Komori always tells Suna everything about Sakusa. It’s like how Suna tells him everything about Atsumu (except that he loves him).

“This is a milestone! I can’t believe this is actually happening. I need the details, who confessed first?” Suna blinks at that, momentarily surprised at the turn in the conversation. “Which means it wasn’t you.” Komori chuckles, Suna can see the grin permanently plastered on his face as he keeps the phone close to his ear. “Oh man, I wish I was there! I bet he caught you completely off guard.”

Suna blinks again, repeating the words in his head before mouthing ‘he’ to himself as the information finally sinks. Shit. Sakusa Kiyoomi is gay?

“In the locker rooms!?” Komori exclaims. “What, was everyone there?” Suna almost gasps at that piece of information. “Hey! It’s not that hard to believe! He is a total attention whore, I can see it happening in front of the whole world.”

Suna’s mind starts picking apart the information he keeps gathering from Komori’s part of the conversation. He lets the connections start forming while straining his ears to catch every word that’s spoken. 

“Kiyo, I hate to break it to you, but he is definitely an attention whore. He is also extremely over the top and so passionate about everything he does, it leaves the rest of us looking like bugs.”

There is a small voice growing inside Suna’s head that starts crying out in warning. He can hear it and he acknowledges it but he doesn’t know what to do with it. He is too invested in what Komori is saying. His friends’ excitement matched with the secrecy of this whole call has Suna at the edge of his seat. 

“Yeah, yeah, horrible analogy. I get it. But still.” Komori sighs. “This is really happening, huh? Oh man, you’re in for a ride.” He chuckles. “You’re never going to know peace again.”

Suna hears those words and something stirs inside him. 

“Who cares if he is obnoxious! Kiyo, you’ve been in love with him for years. You know how annoying he can be and you clearly don’t care.” Suna takes another peek at Komori from where he is hiding behind the door and sees the way his smile is slowly falling before he makes an annoyed sound and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you kissed him first but don’t forget he kissed back.”

There is a long pause after that. Komori tugs the phone closer to his ear to hear his cousin clearly while Suna starts to feel something creep inside him, the voice trying to warn him about something getting louder by the second. 

“Okay, listen up.” Komori finally speaks. “I don’t care how many brain cells you think he fried with all that bleach, if he told you he loves you, just believe him? Is that so hard? Kiyo, he loves you back. This is literally a fucking fairytale coming together.”

Suna’s ears start ringing the moment those words fully register in his head. And then all too suddenly, and completely against his will, Suna is remembering:

“Omi! Omi! Omi-kun!”

“Jesus Miya, has all that bleach fried your brain? Give me a damn second.”

“Anythin’ for ya, Omi!”

Oh. Suna inhales. Oh. He blinks and forces his body to move.

Step by step he walks away from the office, away from Komori’s voice that continues to shout reassurances to his cousin. Step by step he keeps his eyes on the floor and tries to numb out the ringing in his ears. 

Suna takes a step over and over again until he is nowhere near Komori, nowhere near his teammates, nowhere near anybody who can witness the way his legs give out the moment Suna leans his body against a wall.

He can’t imagine what it would look like to a spectator. If someone were watching him right now, how would they react to Suna sinking to the floor while his hands shake as he wraps them around his waist? How would they feel seeing him struggle to regulate his breathing?

What kind of picture is he painting right now? What is he trying to sell? 

Does he look like a mad man struggling to get a grasp on reality? Or does he look like a pitiful fool, shivering on the floor as if he’s been submerged in ice-cold water? Would they feel sorry for him? Would they laugh? Would they stare unable to understand why the world seems to be falling apart? 

Would anyone understand the clawing he feels against his chest? Is that burning sensation building inside his throat normal? Is breathing air supposed to be this painful? When will the ringing stop? 

Shit. Suna thinks, feeling like he is losing control by the second. Shit, fuck, breathe. 

It’s okay. 

It’s okay. 

Nothing is happening. It’s okay. 

Rin, you knew. You’ve always known. 

It’s okay.

Breathe.

(“Are ya gonna tell him?” Ma asks for the very first time, her eyes studying Suna as he fidgets under her gaze.

“I can’t.” Suna swallows. Then, begrudgingly: “He doesn’t feel the same way.”

“Are ya sure?”)

Yes. Suna hadn’t said back then. Not when he was still unsure of how the Miya parents would react to his answer. The answer would always be yes.

Because Suna can never envision a world in which Atsumu falls in love with him. He can’t give room to ideas that fall under delusions. Suna has, after all, done all the math necessary to have sufficient data to back up his claim. 

Let’s rewind ten years, all the way back to 2012. To when Suna first saw Atsumu.  

When his eyes first fell on his blonde hair, Suna paused and wondered how someone managed to change their hair colour in less than two hours. He thinks he is going crazy because he very clearly remembers seeing someone in his class with that same face but with silver hair. 

Suna stares at the blonde the entire time he is trying to buy a drink from the vending machine. When the blonde finally gets the drink he wants and turns to leave, Suna gets a better look at his face and is once again perplexed. Definitely the same face from his class. It’s not a bad face either, however that yellow colour is making him want to reconsider that thought.

He shrugs and goes on with his day. 

It’s after his classes are done and once he has changed for volleyball tryouts that he figures it out. Even before Suna made it to the gym he was already hearing a certain word being tossed around. There were a bunch of kids trying out, as should be expected with how Inarizaki has ranked these past few years within their prefecture, and all they seem concerned about was the twins. 

The Miya Twins. 

Ah. Suna thinks, spotting both yellow and grey hairstyles the moment he steps into the gym. That explains that.

Suna, much like anyone else present, gave the twins the attention they were obviously used to. The two barely glanced at anyone, choosing to stay near each other to talk or argue. The only other person they seemed to acknowledge even existed was a second-year that Suna recognized as an up-and-coming spiker according to volleyball weekly. They were in their own little world while everyone else peered from the side, trying to get a glimpse of it. 

Suna lost interest by the time the tryouts started. Especially once it became clear he would have to put some effort if he wanted to play actual matches, what with the number of people present. Though halfway in he can’t help but notice there wasn’t much to worry about in the first place. Not when it became obvious a lot of people were only here to see the twins. 

It was a bit annoying since Suna had to deal with kids who didn’t even know the basics, or kids who got distracted the moment either of the twins opened their mouth. But it was only tryouts. Surely during actual practice and matches he wouldn’t be dealing with this. Mainly considering he made up his mind twenty minutes in to stay clear of the twins.

That plan, of course, went down the drain when the passing drills started and Miya Osamu asked him if they could be partners.

“Samu! What the hell!” Atsumu’s indignant shout echoed across the gym but his brother didn’t even flinch. 

“I think we are in the same class.” Osamu continues, eyes on Suna even though his brother is glaring holes on his back. “Figured we should get to know each other.”

There are plenty of other ways they could get to know each other, ways that would keep Suna from the attention of everyone in the gym. Which is what he was going to say after rejecting Osamu’s request but the words get stuck in his throat alongside his rejection the moment he meets Atsumu’s eyes over his brother’s shoulders.

Suna can’t explain what it was that captivated him, or much less how he even managed to feel so many emotions with just a few seconds of eye contact. All he knows is that with one look at Atsumu, Suna’s entire view on attention shifted. All of a sudden, Suna had no problem with the number of eyes on him.

“Sure,” Suna replies, eyes flickering back to Osamu who grins in response before moving to grab a volleyball. 

Suna watches him go before his eyes go back to the other twin. Atsumu is still looking at him. Though this time, there is something else in there. And again, he can’t explain it. He goes home that day and he can’t even put it into words when playing the memory in his head over and over again. 

(Even years later and while being fully aware of his feelings for Atsumu, when Suna thinks back to this moment while talking to an acquaintance about attraction and love at first sight—he doesn’t think that describes their first meeting. It was something else. Something…)

Suna could never really put into words what he saw in Atsumu’s eyes. All he knows is that his heart was beating a different tune back then; the little hairs on his body were sticking up; his fingers were itching to move and his eyes were trying to win some sort of argument he is sure Atsumu started. 

Though if he had to guess, maybe it was interest that Suna caught a glimpse of in his brown eyes. Maybe Suna witnessed the moment Atsumu finally noticed him and maybe his eyes were shifting to something more curious. Who are you? He could picture brown eyes asking. Wouldn’t you like to know. Suna hopes his eyes replied. 

He doesn’t talk to Atsumu that day. In fact, it isn’t until two more practices that Suna finds himself conversing with Atsumu after one of the third years makes a fool of himself and they are the only two that dare make fun of him.

Then two days later they are paired up for passes; days later they are on the same side when the team is split for a practice match; then a week later they are both talking to Osamu about the girl who left a letter in his locker; then its been a month and it’s their first practice match against another school and Suna is walking side by side next to Atsumu while they chat about the other school’s uniform. 

To anybody else, all of that means very little. It’s obvious that all Suna managed to do was get along with a teammate. It’s nothing praiseworthy. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

To Suna, standing next to Atsumu is a glitch in the system.

Because Atsumu is intimidating. He is confident, ruthless, and talented— he cares very little about what other people think of him. He is competitive. He hates to lose. He is obnoxious and passionate about the things he loves; aka volleyball. 

The only seniors he respects are Ojiro, Akagi, Oomimi and Kita. He seems to only ever associate himself with several people his age, though they are always left at arm's length. The only person allowed in the bubble Atsumu has very openly set around himself is his brother. 

Atsumu is far too much and it didn’t take Suna long to realize that in contrast, he is far too little. 

That bothered him. A lot. More than he is ever willing to admit. It irritated him to the point that Suna had to shove his hands in his pockets constantly to keep prying eyes from his curled fists. It’s not that he wanted to hit Atsumu, it’s that he wanted to hit something because that's the only way he thought he could put his frustration into words. 

Of course, he never managed to actually hit anything so Suna eventually came up with the right words:

Look at me, came first and then: pay attention to me, and lastly: what do I have to do for you to just…?

Needless to say, when he eventually figured it out, he was not happy. Hitting something definitely sounded more appealing, especially if that something could just be himself. 

He spent days and nights trying to ignore that voice in his head that yearned for attention. Yet, subconsciously, Suna knows he was making moves to get noticed. He knows where that quick improvement in the sport he loves came from, he knows where the need to be a lot more social emerged from, and he knows why he managed to give everyone the illusion that he is some mysterious, stoic, emotionless asshole.

He knows the ways Atsumu influenced him in just a matter of weeks of knowing him. The only reason he hasn’t torn himself up for it is because he knows no one else knows and will never probably figure it out because—

Again. 

Atsumu is far too much. 

And Suna is far too little. 

No one else sees it like that, Suna is aware. It’s been a year, it's 2013 and they are in their second year of high school. Suna and Atsumu are put in the same class this time around while Osamu sulks for a few minutes before finding out Ginjima and Kosaku are both in his class. Everyone seems eager to start the year while Suna himself is fighting to stay indifferent to the idea of seeing Atsumu outside of volleyball on the regular.

He wonders then if the feeling of being too little will increase now that he is going to be closer to Atsumu. He wonders if cracks will start to show in his disguise. He wonders if anyone will finally figure out that even though they are friends, even though Atsumu calls him Sunarin and has no problem including him in his bubble—Suna is not meant to be this close. 

Atsumu, after all, rules the school alongside his brother whether he knows it or not. The twins are the face of the school. Both popular for different reasons. Osamu was easily the most liked, the most friendly, and the most approachable. There is an air about him that a lot of people find comfortable. He was also dubbed the better-looking twin by the girls of the school, something Atsumu surprisingly doesn’t seem bothered by. 

(“Why should I care what scrubs think.” 

“Ya think all women are scrubs?” 

“All the women in this school, yeah,” Atsumu admits. “The ones in Tokyo are good.” 

Osamu rolls his eyes. “They only like ya more cause they don’t know yer shitty personality and don’t know me.”)

Atsumu does have a shitty personality— but that’s only what those who don’t know him think. Everyone in the school liked to believe they knew him, they thought he was easy to read and also believed any word any person ever said about him. For his part, Atsumu never bothered arguing with people and much less bothered dealing with rumours. 

In truth, Atsumu was what those rumours said: greedy, narcissistic, aggressive, apathetic, arrogant, tactless and an overall asshole. He earned the respect of the school for his talent alone, for what he could do under the school’s colours. Other than that, most people chose to keep their distance while still openly believing they knew him like the back of their hands.

It’s a shame, really, but Suna has no right to be upset over it. It would be pointless to have that bother him considering Atsumu himself isn’t bothered. 

He learns why that year. 

He also learns how wrong he was for thinking himself below Atsumu— something he is never going to admit out loud because no one is ever going to know he ever thought too little of himself and in turn, too little of Atsumu.

It starts when Suna notices how much effort Atsumu puts into his school work. He isn’t rowdy and annoying like Suna thought he would be in class. He isn’t a class clown either, though he mumbles a joke here and there for only Suna to hear. 

Atsumu is attentive during all subjects. His notes are always up to date and his books are always kept organized. His calligraphy could use some work, as well as his spelling, but Atsumu is far from a bad student. 

In fact, he is quite the nerd. More so when it comes to literature. Atsumu reads every book that’s assigned and always hands in his essays and book analysis with a little hop on his steps. He doesn’t get the best grades in that subject, but Suna can tell he enjoys it. Especially when the poetry term comes around and Suna watches him write and write and write as if it’s something completely normal.

(“You write an awful lot of poems.” A kid from their class once commented. Suna remembers jolting a little, ears straining to hear Atsumu’s response much like the rest of the class.

“Yup,” Atsumu deadpans, not bothering to look up from his notebook until after he adds: “Didja want one or somethin’?”

The kid—some guy from the track and field team— flushed furiously and walked away. Atsumu kept working, ignoring everyone else around him.)

School work is first and then comes everything else. 

Atsumu does a lot of things that year that he probably feels are normal while Suna is left staring completely astound while his face stays expressionless. 

(“Senpai! I bought you a drink!”

“Atsumu, you don’t need to bribe me.” The senior Suna recognizes as the new cheer squad captain pleads with both hands raised. “I already told you I’d try my best getting everyone to cooperate with your serves.”

Suna is outside the gym waiting for Kita to come and open it for practice. Usually, he comes way after Kita has it open but because he came straight from class with Atsumu, he is here early. 

“Can’t I give my favourite senpai a drink without bein’ accused of something so foul?” 

The cheer squad captain snorts and then ruffles Atsumu’s hair. Suna straightens out ready to see Atsumu explode at him only to be surprised by the way Atsumu squawks and jumps away, cheeks flushed. 

“I’ll take the drink and next game I’ll even try and keep your fangirls under control, how does that sound?”

“It took me all morning to style my hair!” Is what Atsumu responds with but their senior pays him no mind. The casual way he laughs telling Suna enough.)

It’s like everything he thought he knew is suddenly incomplete information.

(“If ya don’t get the toss right, no matter how good yer jump is, that ball ain’t gonna have the power ya want.” Atsumu tells Riseki, his arm keeping a volleyball tucked to his side while the first year tries to catch his breath. 

Practice has ended and Suna was on his way home when he realized he forgot his water bottle in the gym. He never expected to find Atsumu and Riseki still practicing. Especially considering Atsumu had almost made Riseki cry a few days ago when he insulted his serves in every colourful way imaginable.

“If ya don’t throw the ball properly, yer serve is gonna be shit.” Suna winces at the sound of those words. They sound harsh with his tone.

“I know.” Riseki replies, voice steady. Suna raises an eyebrow at that. “I’ll get it right.”

Atsumu grunts and turns away. He doubts Riseki sees the pleased smile he is wearing but even so he looks reassured, eyes staring at the other side of the net for another minute before he goes to grab a volleyball to carry on with his practice.)

It’s not that Suna had Atsumu figured out all wrong. It’s more like Suna wasn’t done figuring him out.

Atsumu is good in school just like he is good in volleyball— equally confident and unapologetic. Atsumu actually gets along with people outside their volleyball team. He respects other upper-classmates. Atsumu doesn’t bite back his words and is completely tactless but that doesn’t mean everything he says is meant to hurt. He looks after his kohai and is only ever that ruthless because he cares. 

He cares an awful lot about people. 

Seeing him look after his brother should have been enough for Suna to have that figured out. But it’s only when he starts noticing how much Atsumu cares about everyone else around him that Suna starts considering Atsumu is just as human as the rest of them. 

(“Can’t believe you rejected Hatori-senpai.” Ginjima mumbles from under his breath, shooting Atsumu a glare mid-stretch. “She is the prettiest girl in the school.”

“I don’t like her.” Atsumu throws back, focused on his stretch. 

“Do you even know her?” Kosaku questions, turning his attention to him much like Suna and Osamu who have already stopped stretching. “How do you know you don’t like her?”

“‘Course I know her.” Atsumu scoffs. “She is class president. Quiet. Bossy. Girly.” Osamu snorts at that. “She comes to all our games.” He pauses, leaning his upper body to complete the stretch before adding: “I don’t like her.”

Kosaku and Ginjima groan, unsatisfied with his answer. Suna on the other hand stays quiet, eyes now studying Atsumu’s body language.

“You really don’t like her?” He asks Atsumu later when it’s just the two of them working on stretches to cool down.

Atsumu scrunches his nose and turns to look at Suna. He answers after a few seconds of silence. “She is pretty.” He says. “But she doesn’t think she is pretty.” Atsumu then adds surprising Suna. “I don’t like that about her.”)

Atsumu truly is tactless.

(“I knew he’d be upset.” Osamu tells Suna shortly after Atsumu storms out of the locker room. “I shoulda told him sooner.”

“It’s your life.” Is what Suna replied with even though a part of him agreed with what Osamu said. Especially with the way Atsumu reacted after hearing how long Osamu had been planning to drop volleyball after high school. 

“It’s just—ugh.” Osamu groans. “I know how much he hates when people pretend. I know he is gonna take this personally— shit Rin, I’m never gonna hear the end of it.”

Suna hums and then stops. He thinks over Osamu’s words before he asks: “Pretend?”

“And I get it, ya know,” Osamu sighs exasperated into his hands. It doesn’t look like he heard him. “I was a scrub for goin’ along pretending I was gonna play volleyball forever. I lied, I was fake— I get it. Shit. I really should have told him sooner.”)

Fake. That’s a word Atsumu liked to use aside from scrub. Suna never thought much about it until he started feeling fake for mentally keeping Atsumu at arm's length with how he saw him. We are friends. He told himself time and time again trying to think back to why he used to believe that couldn’t be true.

Look at me. Suna remembers thinking. Pay attention to me.

What do I have to do for you to just…?

Suna just wanted to be liked. He just wanted Atsumu to like him. Telling himself that Atsumu was too much was the only way Suna could comfortably rest if it ever came to be that Atsumu didn’t like him because then he would just say: he is out of my league, it makes sense.

Except it doesn’t make any sense because Atsumu never gave Suna any indication that he couldn’t, and wouldn’t like him. 

In other words, Suna had just created his own narrative simply because,

Well.

(“Are you sure it wasn’t love at first sight?” His acquaintance asks after Suna is done retelling them the story. Of course, he never once mentioned Atsumu’s name. He wasn’t even planning on telling them the story was based on his own experience, but here he is craving to understand something even years after he thinks he got it.)

Not love. Not yet. He knew he liked Atsumu in his first year, but that was just attraction. Suna then ended his second year fully aware of the big fat crush he has. Which meant he started his third year with two thoughts fighting for control in dictating his life. 

On one side, Suna wanted to spend his third year getting closer to Atsumu. On the other, he wanted to hide away to make sure no one would ever find out that the other side of him existed.

His last year of high school flew by, and in the end, Suna was too weak to stay away and strong enough to keep everything bottled in.

He started calling it love when he came to terms with the fact that they were going different paths. They were being recruited by different teams. They were moving to different cities. Suna would no longer have Atsumu in his life 24/7. And yet.

“I’ll beat you, Sunarin. Every time. So don’t slack off.”

Yet Atsumu didn’t want to let him go so Suna clung on. 

It’s not like the distance did anything to dim out those feelings, anyways. If anything, distance made the heart grow fonder and every time they met up, be it on the court or at a restaurant with all their other friends, Suna had Atsumu— it was enough. 

Sure, Suna always yearns for more. He always dreams of a different outcome. He spends countless hours trying to imagine a world where Atsumu is more than just his friend. When it comes to his ever-growing feelings, it might not always feel likes it’s enough to just be his friend but Suna can’t be too greedy.

He can’t afford not having what he does have and so he tames his heart, he tames his expressions, he tames his personality and he lives every year pretending.

That’s why he is sure. That’s why every time Ma’ asks Suna if he is sure Atsumu doesn’t like him back, he always silently replies with a yes. Though he never gets around to voicing why. 

He knows she won’t understand and he can’t deal with hearing her try to break apart his reasoning to plant some hope— especially now that Suna has been hit with this oversight.  

It’s okay, you’ve always known it was impossible.

Sadly, knowing in advance does little to stop the pain.

He feels his heart tear into pieces. 

This hurts. It hurts, and it hurts, and it won’t stop hurting no matter how many times Suna tells himself to calm down. All those feelings rendering his body useless won’t stop, they won’t dim out— and if there is room, just a gap for some calmness, it’s taken from him instantly with nothing but memories.

Memories of matches against the Jackals, of spotting Atsumu standing near Sakusa on the other side of the net. There are memories of them murmuring things to each other, memories of Atsumu invading Sakusa’s precious personal space to whisper something in his ear. Sakusa would then display a smile and Atsumu would pat his back with a chuckle before turning away, a similar smile resting on his face. 

There are memories of tenderness being openly displayed, memories of touches Suna never gave a second thought to because he was too caught up in his head thinking Atsumu was his, and his alone, to love. 

But that’s not true. It’s clearer than anything else. Their friendship, how it has grown- It’s funny because Suna thinks Sakusa probably lived a similar life to his. Almost like parallels. Everything Suna experienced with Atsumu in high school, Sakusa had the chance to experience with him when joining the Jackals. 

So it makes perfect sense that he fell in love with him. 

Is that why Suna somehow feels cheated? Is that why the unfairness of the situation is what finally gets him to control his emotions? That and the sudden anger he feels towards Atsumu for lying.

Why has Atsumu kept his feelings for Sakusa hidden? Why hasn’t Suna heard anything about this from him?

-o-

It brews in him, the resentment he feels towards Atsumu for omitting whatever the hell he has going on with Sakusa. It’s a flavourless pot mixed with jealousy, anger, pain and confusion. It’s a nightmare Suna has to learn to get over quickly because in a matter of days he is standing on the other side of the court watching it play out. 

Suna watches them. He plays like he always plays. He taunts like he always taunts. He shows the same face he shows every time. But he watches unlike before. He watches how close they are, how easily they move around each other, and how they even gravitate towards each other. 

“Omi-kun!” Atsumu calls out over and over again and Sakusa is always there responding. He trusts. He doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t show any sign of annoyance or discomfort. He hears Atsumu and he moves willingly to his tune.

Suna’s blood boils under his skin but his hands sting every time he stops one of Sakusa’s spikes. Not because of the look of annoyance Sakusa shows on his face every time it happens, but because Atsumu’s eyes always turn to him rather than Sakusa and they burn.

That’s right. Suna is always just seeking out Atsumu’s attention. Nothing could change that.

Though by the time the match ends, the Jackals taking the fifth set, Suna thinks maybe it’s time to change that.

They act like nothing is happening between them. Throughout the cool down and then throughout the joint team dinner they have afterwards. 

Sakusa and Atsumu sit next to each other when they arrive. Suna meets Atsumu’s eyes from his spot between Komori and Washio and thinks little about the way Atsumu shifts his weight from one leg to another. He thinks even less about how this is the first time they aren’t sitting next to each other, this is the first time Suna hasn't saved him a seat. 

No one notices. He doubts Atsumu even noticed. He is probably just concerned with how little Suna has been speaking all day. 

Suna is too hurt and angry to ease that concern. 

Everyone is loud around him. The juniors of each team took most of the attention by ordering the alcohol long before any food makes it to the table. Bokuto encourages them, much to the annoyance of Washio who is often the one looking after anyone who can’t hold their liquor.

Komori is surprisingly quiet. Though Suna soon figures out is because he is too busy studying Sakusa. Right. This is the first time they are seeing each other after their phone conversation. Komori probably wants to say a lot of things, especially with the way his eyes pierce through Sakusa as his cousin tries his best to ignore him.

Suna thinks about voicing something. He thinks about questioning Komori out loud about his odd behaviour in hopes that it will force Sakusa and Atsumu to bring to light their relationship so then Suna can openly show his anger against Atsumu. So he can openly be upset and cut all ties to try to ease the ache inside him. 

Maybe he just needs to hear Atsumu say anything about the matter for Suna to make peace with it and move on because— you’ve known. He doesn’t like you. You’ve always known.

Suna doesn’t say anything. He eats and barely participates in the conversations around him. He drinks and tries to ignore every time he hears Atsumu say every variation of Sakusa’s stupid name. Omi-kun. Omi. Omi-Omi. Kiyo. 

Sunarin. Suna thinks bitterly. That’s all I ever got. He curls his fists under the table and prays the night ends quickly. 

When it does, it’s late, like always. The trains have stopped but the bus is there waiting for them. Suna has never taken the bus back to Nagano after a match against the Jackals, he realizes. 

But when Atsumu turns to him to offer him his place to crash (like he always does) Suna refuses before the words are even fully out of his mouth. He doesn’t see how everyone else reacts but he thinks his mind picks up on how quiet it gets for just a second. 

Or maybe a little longer because Suna doesn’t remember hearing much of anything when his eyes traced the signs of hurt Atsumu displayed in his expression. Suna doesn’t think anything of it, not when he can’t stop hearing OmiOmiOmi over and over again inside his head. 

-o-

It’s that mantra of OmiOmiOmi echoing inside his head that pushes Suna to do everything he does leading up to the next reunion at Hyogo. Most of those things are mistakes that he later regrets.

First, he posts a thirst trap on Instagram. 

It blows up, people talk about it and it almost feels like the whole world saw it. There are plenty of articles that are written about it and Suna even gets called to the office for a meeting with their PR team.

Nothing bad comes out of it. People are just surprised. Suna has three hundred-something posts and most of them are volleyball related. One or two might be from professional photoshoots while he knows there should be at least ten that advertise Osamu’s restaurant. The pictures of his sister’s cat are the only ones that usually show Suna in anything other than his uniform or athletic wear. They also only ever show his hands, maybe a foot, maybe his face.

His thirst trap shows his entire upper body, a small towel loosely hanging from one shoulder being the only piece of clothing in sight. He took the picture at the gym and it shows just how much effort Suna puts when going there. 

He looks good. He knows before posting it and he knows it even more once the comments from all his peers come in. 

Not like it matters. Suna posted it during a moment of weakness, when his head was drowning with thoughts of not being good enough— something that hasn’t haunted him for years. He was hoping that picture would show the world that he knows he is good enough. He was hoping he would then believe it himself. 

Atsumu likes it but doesn’t post a comment like he usually does under every other post.

He feels no way about it. 

Except he does because that's all he can think about every time Atsumu texts him from that day onwards. It’s all Suna can think about while his replies start getting shorter until they stop. It’s all he can think about when that behaviour transfers on to everyone else. Osamu. Kita. Ojiro. His parents. His sister. Atsumu’s parents. 

He is isolating himself as best as he can without arousing suspicion. 

And at first, he thought that it would be easy. At least with Atsumu. Something in his mind had him convinced that he was always the one reaching out; the only one making an effort. Especially now that Atsumu is probably busy giving his attention to his relationship. 

He doesn’t know what to do when he realizes that’s not the case. 

If Suna stops messaging, maybe two days go by before Atsumu messages him. If Suna stops sharing videos on TikTok or tweets on Twitter, Atsumu is there keeping his notification active. 

It’s not a shocker, Suna comes to accept. He has, after all, long since accepted that Atsumu cares. 

They are friends. Suna thinks on a cold night after finally answering one of Osamu’s calls after ignoring him for a week. He doesn’t know what their conversation was about, all he knows is that Osamu mentioned how worried Atsumu was and Suna’s gut had twisted around uncomfortably from then onwards.

Friends. 

Yeah, Suna can finally openly accept that’s not good enough. It’s never been enough. 

-o-

A month later, Ojiro calls him ten times in just the first half of the day. Suna wasn’t even actively ignoring his calls, he was just at the gym and his phone has been set to ‘do not disturb’ by mistake. Indeed, Suna hasn’t been answering most calls, but he hasn’t been that bad. At least not bad enough for Ojiro to call him ten times, over and over, as if Suna wouldn’t eventually pick up. 

Which can only mean one thing. 

“Who’s dying?” Suna blurts when Ojiro calls back thirty minutes after his last call. He almost winces, not having thought those words over and if someone is dying, he doubts this is something Ojiro wants to hear. 

He is responding before Suna can take back his question. “Finally!” Ojiro replies. He doesn’t sound mad or sad so Suna lets himself relax a bit. “Where the hell have ya been? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all mornin’!”

“My phone was on silent,” Suna replies. “I’m at the gym.” He adds, hoping that's enough of an excuse. Though if no one is dying Suna has no idea why Ojiro has been desperately trying to reach him all morning. “Did something happen?”

“Ya, something happened,” Ojiro replies. Suna can hear the smile on his face. “I’m so fucking happy Rin, god, I wanna tell the whole world!” He laughs. “But I gotta tell you lot first. Don’t want you hearing it from some tabloid.” 

“Oh?” Suna replies, whatever tension he felt disappearing with the sound of happiness coming from Ojiro. Suna grabs his water bottle that was on the floor and decides to call it a day for the gym. He goes to clean up the station he was last using while Ojiro rambles on.

“Told Shin first, obviously,” Ojiro says. “Then my parents. Saw my teammates after that, so I told them. Though wanted to tell you lot from Inarizaki before that.” Suna hums to show that he is listening. “Gave the twins a call. Told Atsumu before Osamu, because… ya know.” Yes, Atsumu and his older sibling complex. “Then I called you, but ya didn’t answer. So I called everyone else. I’ve literally been waiting on you.”

Suna feels the guilt emerge from hearing that. Though it’s short-lived since he hadn’t been ignoring Ojiro, even if it’s obvious that Ojiro thought he would be capable of something like that. 

“Just me?” He asks as he strolls to the change rooms. 

“Well, gotta give coach Hibarida a call too, but that’s only to verify the next scheduled training. So yeah, just you.” Ojiro chuckles. “Aren’t you gonna ask?”

Suna smiles, unlocking his locker to pull out a towel. “I think I have a good idea.” He says. “But, kind of hard to believe. She said yes, then?”

Ojiro laughs, bright and loudly. “Can ya believe it!?” 

Suna leans his head against the locker after closing it. “Not really. I always thought she had better taste.”

Ojiro laughs louder, if possible, and Suna can’t help the smile that permanently settles on his face as he hears one of his favourite upperclassmen show so much happiness through his laugh alone. Though his lips do twitch when hearing his next words: “Atsumu said the same thing. Jeez. Ya two really are the runt of the litter.”

“Atsumu and I are literally the farthest from being the weakest. Or smallest.” Suna feels inclined to say it because it’s something he has said before when the team first used that expression. 

He knows what Ojiro will respond with and that’s how Suna wants the conversation to go because it will give him the time he needs to push Atsumu back to the back of his mind to carry on with the conversation. 

“‘Course not,” Ojiro replies, not losing the happy tone. “But Osamu can be very convincing when he wants to be.” He clicks his tongue. “It’s ‘cause ya two would always run off when the work got hard. Unless it was volleyball, of course. Samu got stuck pickin’ up yer slack while cursing you lot.” He sighs longingly, “And since ya two are the biggest pricks I know, it just made sense.”

Despite himself, Suna smiles. “That makes no sense.” 

“Whatever ya runt.” Ojiro laughs again and Suna wonders if this is what the expression ‘being on cloud nine’ means. “Congratulate me already and then promise you'll show up and forget your camera. I don’t need footage of my terrible dancing.”

Suna chuckles, finally stepping back from his locker to make his way to the showers. “Congratulations, Senpai.” He says. “I’ll bring my drone to get all the good angles.”

One more chuckle from Ojiro. “Jeez, with that and Atsumu’s GoPro, do I even have to hire a photographer?” Suna feels his lips twitch again. “I’ll send ya all the info later. No way we are waiting more than a few months. Next season break is looking promising.”

“Jesus.” Suna almost chokes. “That’s like in three months.”

“What can I say?” Ojiro hums. “Love makes ya do the craziest things.” Suna clicks his mouth shut from keeping any unwanted sound from coming out of it. “You’ll understand when you find the one. Anyways! I’ll let ya go. See ya in two weeks— I’m over the moon, so I ain’t planning on losing a single match.” 

Suna mumbles out a reply accepting that challenge and after one more congrats and a comment thrown his way of ignoring phone calls, he finally ends the call with a heavy pressure settling on his chest.

Love makes you do the craziest things. Suna thinks, his hand curling tightly around his phone. You’ll understand when you find the one. 

What do I have to do for you to just…?

Suna closes his eyes and breathes in and out until the grip on his phone loosens. He lets his shoulders slump before turning on the shower tap. As he waits for the water to heat up he undresses, throwing his clothes on the small bench inside the shower room he picked. He places his phone over his clothes and then messes with the faucet until the water is to his liking. 

It’s hotter than what he is used to, but the uncomfortable burn on his skin that he eventually gets used to is something he seeks as a distraction. With the heat around him Suna works his hands through his body, massaging at the tension in his muscles before using the shampoo and conditioner from the dispensers to wash through his hair. 

Once he is all cleaned up Suna stays under the water trying to numb his body. He is not thinking much of anything, but he knows that several thoughts are circling just outside his head, dying for Suna to turn his attention to them so they can consume whatever energy he has left. 

He wants to give Ojiro’s engagement a bit more thought. He wants to think back to what he knows about his relationship, he wants to pick at the knowledge he has of his fiancée, and he wants to study what love means for them. He is curious. It’s only natural to have this type of reaction.

He tells himself that, at least. 

In reality, Suna just wants to compare. He first wants to find the similarities between Ojiro and Atsumu and then he wants to find the differences between Ojiro’s fiancée and Sakusa. He then wants to torture himself with thoughts that start with will they, or what if, or when—

Surely entertaining those thoughts will lead to Suna wondering if he is going to be able to feel that same happiness he felt for Ojiro. Then that will lead to him wondering if Atsumu is ever going to laugh, and laugh, and laugh because his body feels light and his heart at ease. 

Is Atsumu going to call Suna ten times to throw his happiness at his face ignorant to the fact that it might just kill him?

In turn, that surely means Suna is going to start thinking about how long he plans on carrying these feelings. Has he already subconsciously made up his mind? Is this ache inside never going to go away? If so, is it because Suna can’t or won’t let go?

Suna can feel that thought press against his mind more than anything and so he avoids it with whatever self-pervasion bone he has left. Any thought that carries Atsumu’s name feels like nothing more than a stab to his heart. It’s like poison. A method of torture. 

It’s the beginning of a breakdown Suna is waiting to happen while he continues to do mindless things to ignore, cope, and forget. Though he fears the heat of the water will eventually not be hot enough. The distance between them won’t be far enough. Atsumu and Sakusa’s relationship won’t stay a secret forever and so Suna won’t be able to hide behind the false pretence of respect for something private. 

Something that has nothing to do with him, in the eyes of the parties involved. Suna is a friend. Nothing more. Never anything more.

What do I have to do for you to just…?

His phone rings and Suna’s eyes snap open in surprise. The melody is muffled by the sound of the shower and his clothes but he left it face up so Suna can see the name displayed on the screen. He stays still, suddenly aware of the amount of steam around him that's not enough to blur Atsumu’s name. 

It rings. And rings. And rings. 

Suna closes the shower tap and grabs his phone. He stares at it and thinks; love makes you do the craziest things.

“Yeah?” He breathes out after swiping right and then pressing the phone against his ear.

“Sunarin.” He hears back. “Ya picked up.”

Suna last heard Atsumu’s voice two weeks ago. Atsumu had called to talk about the latest Marvel movie that came out. They had been texting back and forward before that, talking about the same thing. It’s why Suna picked up. He knew how that conversation would go. 

He didn’t pick up a week ago when Atsumu called Friday night after the match he played in Takasaki. He watched the phone ring three different times while scrolling through the train schedule. When the last train left, Atsumu stopped calling. Suna told himself he felt relieved and ignored the way his stomach churned all night. 

He didn’t pick up three days ago when Atsumu called him on a national holiday. They always have those days off. Suna reasons it’s okay that he didn’t answer his call. It’s a holiday, of course Suna is busy. It’s expected right? You either sleep in or you stick to plans made in advance. Suna doesn’t pick up while he takes note of an excuse to use. Then he spends the rest of the day trying to forget how he spent every national holiday in the past decade.

Talking to Atsumu isn't easy these days. There are too many uncertainties, too many emotions clouding his mind. Suna already feels like everything around him is out of his control, the least he can do for himself is entertain the conversations he knows won't end in more heartbreak.

“Did you hear the news?” Suna says, his mind already working through how the conversation will play out as long as he keeps control of it. 

There is a pause and Suna tries to keep his mind from running as he reaches for his towel and starts drying off. “Yeah. That’s why I called.” Atsumu finally responds and Suna bites back the ‘I know’ resting on his tongue. “Aran is gettin’ married.”

Suna rubs his face with the towel before quickly pushing it through his hair. He then keeps the phone between his head and shoulder before wrapping the towel around the lower half of his body. “You owe me a car.” 

“We did not bet a car!” Atsumu shouts alarmed. “It was a bike!”

Suna walks back to his locker with his hand back to holding the phone while the other hand carries his clothes. “We are making more money than we were back then. It’s only fair we raise the stakes.” He says, looking around the change room to notice that unlike when he was talking to Ojiro, the only other teammate that had been around was now gone. 

With the change room empty, Suna sets the phone on speaker and leaves it on the top shelf of his locker. “That’s somethin’ ya do before someone wins!” Atsumu’s voice comes through with the same volume, though not feeling his voice right against his ear gives him some space to breathe. 

“What am I supposed to do with a bike?” Suna asks while getting dressed. 

“Ride it—wait. That’s not even the point right now! Sunarin, ya cheated!” Atsumu accuses.

Suna looks over at his phone and holds back the desire to sigh. “Yeah? How?”

“I don’t know.” Atsumu shamelessly admits. “I just know ya did! That’s the one bet I was sure to win! How does it even make sense? Aran tying the knot first is just so, so,”

“Obvious?” Suna throws in, grabbing the phone to place it on the bench next to him as he sits to get his socks and shoes on. “He was literally the only one in a relationship when we made the bet.”

Atsumu groans and Suna can’t help the way he automatically reacts by huffing in amusement at the sound. “Still. Who bets against Kita-san? He was by far the most obvious choice! Everyone agrees! Are ya seeing the group chat? The one without our senpais. No one believes Aran is going to be getting married before Kita-san!”

Suna hasn’t seen the group chat. He has any chat with Atsumu muted. “And who would Kita be marrying?”

“His partner, duh,” Atsumu replies. “I know what yer gonna say.” He then quickly adds. “But just because we think he is single, doesn’t mean he ain’t got someone.”

Suna throws his dirty clothes inside his gym bag alongside his towel. “I think being single implies not having someone.” He closes the locker and then leans against it while holding his phone. 

It’s been five minutes since he picked up. Why does it feel longer?

“He is carrying the torch for someone. I just know it.” Atsumu says suddenly, his tone changing a bit as the volume of his voice goes down. “Or, I don’t know. Maybe he is already secretly married?”

“You’re making up crap because you’re stingy.” Suna throws back, feeling uneasy with how the conversation is going.

“A bet is a bet,” Atsumu responds. “I’m calling yer sister and offering her yer bike.”

“She won’t want it.”

“I’ll ship it to yer house anyways,” Atsumu says. “It’s gonna be pink. It’s gonna have training wheels and that stupid basket at the front. With flowers.”

“Aren’t you a little too old to be acting like such a sore loser?” Suna teases, his eyes watching the seconds tick by on his screen as the call goes on. “I’m sorry you can’t use basic common sense to deduct Aran, the only one in a relationship with the literal love of his life, would be the first one to get married.”

“Hey! I’m tellin’ ya! Kita-san is definitely in love with someone too!” 

Yeah, Suna doesn’t say, with your brother. “But he is not the one getting married. So I win. You lose. Get me my car.”

“Bike!” Atsumu counters and Suna chuckles. “So you agree?” Suna’s face twists, the laughter dying out as Atsumu’s question sneaks up behind him. “Ya think he is in love with someone?”

No. Suna’s head pounds. No. What? How— “That’s random.” Suna breathes out. He thinks his voice feels shaky. He hopes Atsumu doesn’t notice.

“Is it?” Atsumu asks in a tone he would use to ask about the weather. But there is something else there, something Suna recognizes because Atsumu always gets his way with this type of tone. “Cuz I’ve been thinkin’,”

Danger. Suna’s mind rings. “About Kita?” Suna cuts in. “Aran is the one getting married. Maybe think about what you’re going to get him.”

“Well, I’ll just let ya buy somethin’. Send me the bill afterwards. Fifty-fifty. But yeah, Kita-san—“

“What about Osamu?”

“That scrub will probably cater for him and call that his gift. If ya wanna talk stingy, ya know who carries that title well.” Atsumu snorts to himself. “But, Sunarin, ya think we should talk to Kita-san?”

Suna goes very still. “About?” 

“‘Bout the feelings he sucks at hiding,” Atsumu responds without a pause. The words leave his mouth so freely and Suna realizes then that he made a mistake picking up the phone. Or perhaps he made a mistake entertaining this conversation for this long. He should hang up. “‘Cause it’s obvious, yeah?” He should make something up and hang up. “You’ve noticed, yeah?”

Suna knows what approach Atsumu is using but Suna feels so odd right now that he can't think of how to deal with it. 

His mind can’t fully comprehend this sudden obsession over Kita and his feelings yet at the same time, he knows it's not really about Kita. Especially considering that Atsumu has shown no indication that he knows exactly who Kita has those feelings for. 

Atsumu is keeping his voice light. Atsumu isn’t complaining about being cut off here and there. Atsumu is saying Sunarin over and over again with a tone that seems to deliberately emphasize how desperately Atsumu wants to get his point across.

When Suna picked up the phone, it was so they could talk about Ojiro’s engagement, the stupid bet they made in high school and maybe about volleyball before Suna would find a way to end the call. 

Out of any unexpected topic sneaking in, Suna never thought it would be this.

Because if Atsumu is talking about love and hiding then surely the words that will eventually come through the speaker to steal away all the oxygen around Suna are: Sunarin, I have to tell you something, or, Sunarin, you have something to tell me.

Suna can’t stomach the thought of hearing either of those statements. 

“I mean, I’ve only just recently noticed because— well I guess I wasn’t lookin’. But I know yer always looking. Yer super observant and shit. And I just wanted to—“

“Atsumu, I have to go.” 

“What?” Suna hears him suck in a breath. “Sunarin—“

“I’m late for a meeting with my coach. And my phone is almost dead.”

“Oh,” Atsumu says. “I thought—“

“I’ll take the bike,” Suna says to mute the disappointment coming from Atsumu’s voice. “Pink. Training wheels. Stupid basket with flowers.”

Atsumu makes a sound that Suna thinks is supposed to resemble a chuckle. “Sure. Hey, can ya call me—“

“And I’ll get the gift and send you the bill.” Suna cuts in one more time but there is nothing smooth about the way his voice overlaps Atsumu’s.

There is a pause and Suna strains his ears to try and hear any sound from him, anything to help him picture his reaction. “‘Kay.” Atsumu finally says and Suna’s heart drops at the shift in his tone. “Sure. Send me the bill.” He adds and Suna grips his phone tighter. “Or don’t, if ya don’t want to. Sorry to bother.”

Suna opens his mouth to call out for Atsumu but the screen changes before he can. He swallows back the name, letting the bitterness burn down his throat while the silence he is left in rings loudly against his ears with judgement.

Sorry. He texts later. It was an important meeting. 

Atsumu doesn't respond.

-o-

Things are strained with Atsumu after that and Suna isn’t prepared for how horrible he feels, even if this had been his original plan. 

He needed the distance, he needed time by himself to figure out his thoughts and feelings, but having Atsumu give him that space at the expense of their friendship all but tears at Suna’s heart. 

But beggars can’t be choosers, Suna tells himself every day the distance grows. Besides, it’s probably for the better. 

Suna can only imagine what it’s like to start a relationship with someone you’ve been pining after for years. Not just someone, a teammate. Atsumu has known Sakusa for almost as long as Suna has known Atsumu. That’s a lot of history. A lot can change now that there is more to their relationship. 

And perhaps that’s what hurts the most. 

Suna can’t shake the memory of Atsumu’s disappointed tone when they last spoke, he can’t forget his words. He knows Atsumu probably has his scheduled figured out, he probably knew Suna had no meeting to go to. Atsumu knows well what Suna’s voice sounds like when he lies, he is smart enough to figure out when Suna is avoiding or blatantly dismissing someone— and yet, Suna doubts that’s all there is to the silent treatment he is getting. 

Suna spends day and night thinking about Atsumu; thinking about their conversation; thinking about how far or close he is at times; of how easy it would be to just go see him, show up and apologize. He goes through each day with a sour look permanently glued on his face, his mind is always clouded with overbearing thoughts, and his lungs are barely breathing enough to ease the uncomfortable feeling resting on his chest. 

He might as well just be a lost soul, hanging on a poorly looked-after body while Atsumu is living. 

He is too busy to call. He is too busy to text. He is not ignoring me, Suna often thinks, he just doesn’t have time for me. When has Atsumu ever truly gotten mad at Suna? When has Atsumu ever let Suna push him away? Any attempt made in high school would only result in Atsumu shoving his face in Suna’s personal space with an insufferable Sunarin followed by: stop being a shit, or, stop ignoring me, or, ya think you can get rid of me.

(“Yer stuck with me.” Atsumu grins carelessly.

“For like a few hours.” Suna huffs back, looking away from Atsumu’s gleaming eyes because his heart has started acting up for some reason. It acts up every time he is around Atsumu nowadays. How is Suna supposed to get through this year if his heart keeps doing weird things every time Atsumu is near?

“We have volleyball practice after class. Then we gotta be back here to study. Then more practice.” Atsumu almost sings out, his excitement clear. “For like, the rest of the year Sunarin.” He chuckles, though Suna thinks it sounds more like a giggle. His heart clenches at that too. “Yer stuck with me.”

“God have mercy,” Suna mumbles under his breath and Atsumu just laughs unbothered. Suna can only guess it’s because his lips are turned up and there is no way his words sounded anything but fond.)

There is no way Atsumu is upset with him. At least, not enough to ignore Suna for weeks— and yes, Suna hasn’t made more than like two efforts but, shit, it’s different. 

He is terrified, for one. Terrified that the moment he makes an actual attempt to start a conversation with Atsumu the first thing they will inevitably end up discussing is Kita and his feelings again— which will only result in the discussion of Atsumu’s secret relationship or worse, Suna’s hidden feelings.

Suna had originally felt betrayed that Atsumu would hide his relationship from him. His hands shook with anger and his blood boiled while all he saw was red with just hearing the name Sakusa or any variation of Omi. For like, two seconds, Suna was ready to explode by doing something impetuous. Suna pictured himself confronting Atsumu, demanding the truth through gritted teeth. And just like that,

He could visualize his hand reaching out to Atsumu while the blonde turned away and ignored every word as he stepped further away from Suna. He would take a step, after step, after step, and then he would be gone and Suna. Suna would lose him.

Suna has lost him. 

At least, he has lost the chance for something more with him. He lost the chance to hold him, to pull him closer, to breathe in the air straight from his lips that would taste like the feelings Suna could feel in every part of his body. He lost all that and yet he didn’t because it’s not like he ever had any of it. It’s not like it was ever going to happen. It’s not like. 

It’s not like he stood a chance.

Hearing the truth from Atsumu is no longer something Suna wants. If anything, it’s a small miracle that Atsumu is choosing to keep it from Suna. With the anger Suna first felt now extinguished, the only reaction Suna could offer Atsumu is one filled with sadness. It’s all he feels and all he will feel whether he learns the truth from Atsumu or doesn’t.

(Who else knows? A small part of Suna wonders. Does Osamu? Kita? Ojiro? His parents?

Do you not trust me? He also thinks often. Aren’t we friends? He tries to ignore.

Don’t tell me. He begs, pleas, prays and at the same time; why won’t you tell me?)

But even the sadness would eventually fade. At least, Suna thinks that’s how it goes. Time heals wounds, right? So on days when the distance between him and Atsumu sinks Suna’s heart further inside the black hole slowly taking everything from him, the thought of just getting the conversation done with crosses his mind. 

He finds himself almost reaching for his phone numerous times. He thinks of different texts he could send Atsumu. He thinks of different ways he could hint at what he knows for Atsumu to just come clean. Logically, the best thing to do would be to come clean himself. Say something like:

Hey, I know about you and Sakusa, that’s why I’ve been kind of weird and distant. (If you noticed)

Want to talk about it? (How long? Why didn’t you tell me? Do you not trust me?) 

We are friends, Atsumu. You can trust me with things. (Are we friends? What am I to you?)

I’m happy for you. (Does he love you as much as I do?)

A part of him knows, feels, that he should be the one making the first move. If he reaches out and Atsumu confides the truth with him, Suna can then act mildly upset before offering his best wishes and then he can carry on living with a broken heart. 

It sounds overwhelming right now, Suna feels like the world is ending and he knows, he knows that he is caught up in his own little dramatic story where the protagonist is caught between a rock and a hard place— he knows he is being irrational, he knows that eventually something is going to happen and fucking years from now this will seem like nothing but a distant memory. 

He will get over it, right? He will continue playing volleyball. He will continue doing what he can. His heart will heal, forget, and move on. He will stay by Atsumu’s side as his friend and eventually, eventually that will be enough. Sakusa and Atsumu will get married. Adopt kids. Buy a house. They can do all that and maybe Suna will do the same with someone else. 

The world keeps turning. Life is always a rollercoaster. Suna is hardly the only person experiencing heartbreak at this moment. There are probably people out there suffering way more than him. There are people actually losing loved ones, there are people experiencing pain greater than his. Suna is hardly going through something abnormal. Surely every other twenty-six-year-old experiences something like this.

The world keeps turning and sometimes Suna clears his mind enough for that desire to just get it done with looms over him with almost enough weight for him to make that move.

But then, 

How will the world keep turning if Atsumu is not by his side?

What if—What if Atsumu’s relationship with Sakusa isn’t what their conversation leads to. What if it is but then it’s quickly dismissed for something else. What if Atsumu figures it out? What if he already knows? What if Suna’s feelings are the scissors that end up cutting the tiny thread keeping Atsumu close to him?

“What are ya so scared of, Rintarou?” Ma once asked him, her expression a cross between pity and fondness. Suna had felt the knot form in his throat by her eyes alone, though her words easily added weight to that hollow feeling in his chest. 

It’s incredible how hours before that Suna’s chest felt weightless while filled with warmth and that fluttering feeling of happiness. 

They are finally just days away from competing in the Olympics. They’ve been busy with training just after finishing the 2020/21 league season. Suna doesn’t remember a time when he consumed this much volleyball, and yet, he is not exhausted. No one is. They are at a constant high, completely in love and engulfed in their sport. 

It’s the first time in months that they managed to separate a weekend for a meet-up, especially with training running for longer than just a week or two. It’s not like their special weekends, they don’t come down Saturday to help Osamu in his restaurant but they do pass by on Sunday morning for some snacks before they spend most of the day at the Inarizaki High gym.

It’s not just a few of them either. It’s more than just the old team from Suna’s second year. It’s a lot of his underclassmen from his third year with a few of his seniors from his first year. Its classmates he knows have never played volleyball, schoolmates Suna hardly remembers. 

They are all here to show their support. They are here because Suna, Ojiro, and Atsumu will proudly wear their country's colours in just a few days while they chase their dreams for gold. They are here and they are happy and excited and so much support is overwhelming and mind-boggling but—

Atsumu always shines so brightly amid so many ordinary people. Years have passed since high school and yet he is still here, at the centre of the room drawing everyone’s attention. Here he is loud, obnoxious, confident, proud, unapologetic. Here he is with strong legs, firm arms, clear brown eyes and a much lighter shade of yellow resting on his head. 

Here is Atsumu and it’s been what, 9 years, and Suna is standing in their high school gym watching him while carrying the same, if not stronger, feelings for him. I love you, Suna thinks and nothing but joy surrounds him. 

It’s so easy, loving Atsumu. 

That’s what he shares with Ma later that day when they are back at the Miya residency. Atsumu and Osamu have gone with Miya-sama to pick up take-out while Kita and Ojiro, the only two other people joining them for dinner tonight, have gone to see their families for a short time. 

Ma smiles softly at those words and doesn’t ask Suna to elaborate. With how light he feels, with the warmth embracing him, Suna has half a mind to just ramble on and on for hours, though he doubts words will ever be enough to describe his love.

Besides. Ma loves Atsumu in her own ways, so surely Suna doesn’t need to explain himself. Instead, Ma asks that dreaded question. What are ya so scared of, Rintarou? He doesn’t say anything to that, not immediately. He sits in silence and he probably physically reacts without meaning to. 

He is sure his shoulders slump and the smile on his face turns a bit bitter. That’s probably why Ma tries to elaborate. That’s probably why she starts trying to reassure him, to convince him that talking to her son isn’t as scary as he is making it out to be. She starts saying things Suna has heard from her before— about how Atsumu cares for him, about how he feels more than he shows… “My son loves you, Rin. I know you know that. Doesn’t he deserve the truth?” 

Deserve isn’t the word Suna would use. Technically speaking, Suna has no obligation to share his feelings. Atsumu is not entitled to that, even if the feelings are for him. But also, deserve in what sense? Atsumu loves him, and Suna knows, but not in the way that Suna wants to be loved. And if Suna loves Atsumu in the way he doesn’t want to be loved… why would Suna tell him? Why would he put Atsumu under the same torture he is coping with?

Suna doesn’t think telling Atsumu how he feels will ever result in something better than what they have. If anything, his biggest fear is losing everything he has with Atsumu.

So many things could go wrong. Atsumu could react in several ways. The worst reaction would be he is disgusted and ends up feeling betrayed. The most probable reaction would be that Atsumu will be surprised and then burdened by the feelings Suna cherishes so deeply.

At some point either one of those reactions or any reaction that fits in between those two will lead to the same ending. Either way, Suna will lose Atsumu. 

“I like what we have,” Suna told Ma eventually.

She smiled at him and let the topic drop but Suna could see how easily she noticed the half-truth coated in those words. Yeah, Suna liked what they had. But that doesn’t mean he never thought of what it would be like to have more. 

What if Suna ever said something to Atsumu? What if he came clean at some point?

It would have been easy, yeah? When asked about the twins Suna would often say Osamu is his best friend because Suna couldn’t stomach saying that about Atsumu. In reality, Suna is always just a step behind Atsumu, almost attached like a parasite. 

What if one day Suna would reach out and link their hands together? What if he interlocked their fingers and felt the warmth and sweat of Atsumu’s hand? What if he pressed closer into his personal space and met Atsumu’s surprised eyes with confidence Suna doesn’t think he has. What if somehow Suna manages to not shy away from the intensity of Atsumu’s gaze? What if Suna speaks, the words leaving his mouth without a stutter and Atsumu listens?

If Suna ever dared to lean in and kiss Atsumu’s lips, would he be kissed back? Would he be embraced with the same eagerness? Would Atsumu’s touch ever give Suna the reassurance he yearns for? 

Suna likes to think about that a lot. He likes to love Atsumu in silence while he wonders what it would be like to have the courage to be loud—while he wonders:

What do I have to do—

“Rin, you okay?”

—for you to just…?

“Yeah,” Suna replies to Komori’s question, his eyes flickering upwards to stare at his teammate while he tries to tame his racing heart.

“You’ve been spacing out a lot,” Komori says with a frown and Suna looks away from him to watch his surroundings instead. “Like, for the past month. And at all times. Randomly.”

Most of his teammates are around doing their own thing. A few of them seem to be huddled up together watching a video on their captain’s phone. Some of the second-string players are laughing loudly on their way to the showers. 

Suna himself is sitting on the bench in front of his locker. He is shirtless but there is a towel safely tied around his waist. He has his phone in his hands but it's turned off, though perhaps for the past however minutes everyone thought he was on it. “I’m just a bit burned out.” He tells Komori, eyes going back to make eye contact with his friend. “Maybe a bit depressed?” He asks, trying to keep his tone light. 

Komori doesn’t buy it. It’s obvious by the raise of his eyebrow. “What’s in your head?” He asks, taking a seat next to Suna. “Usually I think I’m pretty good at reading you but you’ve been staring at the black screen of your phone for like fifteen minutes and your face hasn’t even changed once.” 

“Volleyball. Life.” Suna tries. “Nothing serious.”

Komori doesn’t get a chance to say anything because he is cut off by Washio’s snort as he appears and quickly takes a seat on Suna’s other side. “Nothing serious has you looking like a corpse?” 

Suna blinks at him, mouth slightly ajar. “Hey! I thought we weren’t going to bring that up until after Saturday’s match!” Their captain yells, interrupting any thought forming in Suna’s head. He lets his eyes wander then and finds himself noticing almost everyone in the room looking at him. 

A knot forms inside his throat. “What are you guys talking about?”

“The eye-bags, cracked lips, greasy hair— the deafening silence coming from you.” Their first-string setter shoots back. “Suna, talk to us.”

Suna opens and closes his mouth. He then stares at the space ahead of him and tries to think of anything to say. 

“We wanted to say something earlier,” Washio says from beside him. 

“But other than your poor state of appearance on practice days, your unusual silence is the only other thing off about you.” Komori finishes.

Suna sees an opening after hearing those words. “Maybe because nothing is seriously wrong?” He keeps his voice cool, knowing well that if he starts sounding defensive anything he says won’t be taken seriously.

His captain walks over to them, his eyes on Suna the entire time. “Suna, we won’t push if that’s what you want.” He says and Suna nods while he keeps his focus on not tensing his muscles or shifting under the searching gaze of everyone around him. “But know that you can talk to us, yeah?” He adds. “Especially if you are thinking about volleyball.”

Suna nods again, unable to find the words to voice. His captain ruffles his hair and then claps his hands to divert everyone’s attention back to him. He says something about hurrying up and making sure to leave the locker room tidy after reminding everyone that sometimes space is the best solution. He shoots both Washio and Komori a pointed look after saying that. 

“I’ve talked to Atsumu, you know,” Komori says when their captain finally leaves to go back to his things. Suna can’t control the way his back straightens when hearing that. “And Aran-san.”

“Akaashi has mentioned some interesting stuff too,” Washio adds. “He went to visit Osamu a few weeks ago.” 

“We know it’s not just us you’re ignoring, is what we are saying.” Komori brushes Suna’s shoulder with his own. “And we know literally no one knows why they are being ignored.”

There isn’t much Suna can say to that. In fact, he doesn’t think there is anything he can say that will ease any of his friends’ worries. Maybe the truth would but— no way in hell. Suna may be completely at a loss right now and insanely confused, but at least he knows he hasn’t lost it enough to even consider just admitting his actual thoughts. 

“I’m just burned out.” He says again. “I have a lot in my head, yeah, but seriously. It’s nothing bad.” He feels Komori brush their shoulder together again so Suna elbows him before easily leaning to the side to rest on Washio’s figure. “And I am busy.” He huffs while Washio leans his head to rest it over Suna’s shoulder. “And okay, fine, I may be taking longer than usual to reply to texts— but again, just a bit depressed, you know?”

Komori crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t buy it.” Washio snorts and Komori levels him with a look. “Tatsuki, don’t side with him!”

“Sorry,” Washio says. “But there is not much we can do, Toya.” Suna clicks his tongue at that but Washio ignores him. “And in his defence, we have no reason to doubt him.”

“I’m right here.”

Washio leans back then, forcing Suna to sit up straight before he feels Washio’s hand firmly grip his shoulder after he stands up. “Everyone gets depressed. We’ve all been through our own burdens. You know why we worry, yeah?”

“Cause apparently I resemble a zombie?”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Komori mumbles, also standing from his seat. “I sometimes look at the last picture you posted on your insta to remind myself you were once hot.”

Washio tightens his grip on Suna’s shoulder forcing him to meet his eyes. “We worry because we are your friends. We’ve played together for years. And unfortunately for you, we are friends with the other friends you’ve played with for another number of years.”

“We are a big little family.” Komori chirps.

“They ask about you.” Washio finally loosens his grip to simply pat Suna’s shoulder before stepping back. “I know they haven’t seen you like this because if they had, they would be knocking at your door demanding answers.”

“Come on Rin,” Komori adds, standing in front of Washio to draw back Suna’s attention. “Do you know how weird it is to have Miya-square look so lost when you’re mentioned?” Suna stands after hearing those words, using the excuse of fixing his towel to divert his eyes. “They are seriously going to kill you when they see you next.”

“Yeah?” Suna asks, trying to throw a chuckle in there.

“I’m keeping my eyes on you, Rin,” Komori warns with a scowl. “You’re good at hiding your feelings. You’re also too damn smart at reading other people. As I said, the only thing giving you away is that you look like shit during practice. And you space out.”

“I’m fine,” Suna says, his body turning to finally face his locker so he can get dressed.

“I’m going to believe you until the season is over,” Komori tells him. “But if anyone plans an intervention any time before that, I’m going to co-host it.”

“Aran-san’s wedding is in two weeks,” Washio adds, the handle of his bag now resting on his shoulder showing he is ready to leave.

“Why does that sound like a threat?” 

“It is,” Washio says. “Akaashi told me he has never seen Osamu that mad.”

Suna sighs defeatedly, graciously accepting the pats both Komori and Washio give him before parting ways. He feels eyes on him as he finishes changing but he ignores his other teammates. He knows they won’t approach him, not after their captain said his piece. 

Washio and Komori are the only two who could get away with trying to drill him about his recent… appearance. Suna thought he was being careful and that his emotions were properly concealed inside him, but it seems like some of it has seeped out.

He is going to have to do some damage control. Washio’s comment about the wedding is a threat but Suna can also see how it’s a warning. He probably understands Suna the most. It hasn’t been long since Washio experienced a bit of a slump due to a family member passing. He knows what it's like to get caught up in your head and how easy it is to not want other people to know. 

Suna doesn’t know what they might suspect is going on inside his head, but at least he can rest easy knowing no one is even considering it’s his unrequited feelings that have him wallowing in his misery.

They would probably think poorly of him if that came out to light. Suna would surely be seen as nothing but a fool. What kind of idiot makes himself sad over losing something he never really had?

-o-

“Have you been avoiding me?” Ojiro accuses the moment Suna walks inside his hotel room. 

“No?” Suna replies with an eyebrow raise, his hands tightening the grip he has on his suit. After his talk with his teammates (aka, mainly Washio and Komori) Suna has made sure to spend the last two weeks doing everything but avoiding anyone. “If I was, would I be here?”

“You’ve been ignoring me.” Ginjima piques in, appearing from one of the doors attached to the room. Not true, Suna doesn't say. It’s not time for this sort of talk. Ginjima seems to understand that too. “Also. You’re late. Put on your suit and get in there so the stylist can fix your hair.”

Suna complies with Ginjima’s orders, mumbling a ‘yessir’ just as he notices Kita’s prying eyes locked on him from the other side of the room. 

Suna has more or less prepared himself for this day. He has done the appropriate planning after some very serious damage control. In his plan, avoiding Kita is a top priority. 

Suna changes to his suit pretty quickly. He then lets Ginjima mess around with his tie while the stylist that was hired tries to get Suna to pick a hairstyle different from his usual fluffy-semi-middle-part and combed-to-the-side style. He ends up letting the stylist comb his hair back just a bit, though he insists on having some bangs. It’s a good enough look that makes it seem like he got a haircut.

Ginjima runs through all the information Suna needs to know before the wedding starts and then he updates Suna on who’s here and who’s not. He is the last from the Inarizaki circle to arrive (not including the bride’s invitees). But he is not the last of the professional athlete to show up. 

Ginjima has an actual list of everyone that was invited and just for a moment, Suna regrets knowing all those people. He is not going to have a single second to relax. Though he realizes quite quickly how selfish that thought is and that today should be all about Ojiro. His stupid problems be damned. 

Half an hour before the ceremony is set to start, he and Ginjima wish Ojiro their best wishes before they make it down to where it’s taking place. The twins, alongside several familiar faces, already occupy one-half of the hall. Most of the peers Suna knows from high school take the other half. It makes sense, considering Ojiro’s soon-to-be wife was the more popular one back then.

Suna considers staying somewhere near the back to avoid attention but he quickly realizes how impossible that would be. He also mentally slaps himself for thinking anyone is even paying attention to him.

Like it would matter anyway. When was the last time that ever mattered?

Pay attention to me. 

Ah. That’s right. Suna only ever craves the attention of one person.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” Osamu hisses when Ginjima drags Suna to the empty seats behind the twins. Suna saw the chairs way before they came close to them. 

Of course. He is not surprised. One of his closest friends is getting married. Of course, Suna would be expected to sit somewhere in the front alongside every other person Suna is closest to. 

“Samu, you look dashing,” Suna replies, batting his eyelashes after smacking Ginjima for meowing in response to the cat comment.

Damage control. Suna tells himself while sitting directly behind Osamu. You don’t have to worry. 

“I needa talk to ya later,” Osamu says, his eyes narrowed. Suna holds back a sigh and nods. Okay. You expected that. Osamu takes in his nod and gives him another look that tells Suna he is not getting away from that talk. 

Osamu studies him for a moment longer before he is shooting Ginjima a look and Suna openly rolls his eyes at the exaggerated shrug Ginjima throws his way. Osamu doesn’t say anything else and Suna keeps his eyes on him as he watches him turn back around to face the front. 

It’s then that Suna dares to sneak a glance at Atsumu. 

Atsumu who hasn’t turned to see Suna. Atsumu who is sitting straight, his shoulders almost looking tense as he quietly stays facing the front. Atsumu who is ignoring whatever Osamu just mumbled under his breath, out of Suna’s earshot. 

Atsumu who is not sitting next to Sakusa— though Suna can see him just a few rows behind. 

Suna bites his lips and fights the urge to say something. Even though he is far from even understanding what he wants to say. They haven’t had a solid talk in weeks and Suna knows he has some explaining to do. 

The last thing Suna sent Atsumu (as per damage control) was a picture of Komori on the floor, volleyballs surrounding him as if they were the reason for his defeated expression. Atsumu had replied with a simple ‘lol’ and Suna had stupidly thought: now you can’t say I never tried. 

Suna has since spent every day leading up to today actively keeping up with the conversation with his friends while also debating on what else to tell Atsumu that will get him to—

Pay attention to me. 

Ah. But that’s right. Atsumu is busy. He has someone taking up his time. He is not mad at me. Suna tries to convince himself. He just doesn’t need me at the moment. He doesn’t trust me.

Ojiro’s wedding takes forever to start but once it does, it ends almost too quickly. Suna thinks he could have missed it all by blinking. In reality, once the wedding officiant started talking about love and vows and promises and sacred matrimony, Suna got stuck fighting the explosion of emotions twisting inside him.

He doesn’t doubt it was as beautiful as everyone says it was hours later when they are celebrating in the name of the newlyweds. Seeing Ojiro’s wide smile is enough to pull Suna out of his mind long enough for him to put to rest his emotions while he tries, for what feels like the hundredth time, to not make this day about him. 

It’s after all, all about Ojiro. 

Kita reminds everyone as much when he comes by their too-quiet table before Ojiro and his wife hit the dance floor for their first dance. Suna watches the way Osamu instantly brightens up and takes Kita’s side, encouraging everyone to get rid of their long faces while calling over a waiter for some drinks. 

Suna also catches the fond smile Kita shoots Osamu in response and wonders why it’s taking them so long to figure it out when they so obviously share the same feelings. 

They are lucky. Is the thought circling his head when he takes his first drink. The second and third drink comes when he starts wondering what it’s like to be loved. The fourth and fifth come when Sakusa and Bokuto join their table after Atsumu calls them over when Akagi and Kosaku disappear to the dance floor with their partners.

Suna can only handle around ten minutes of the three Jackals players together before he finds his body heating up with every negative emotion he has spent that past few hours trying to control.

“Bathroom,” he tells everyone and Suna is gone before he can hear anything in response.

He goes to the bathroom and then he spots Oomimi and Washio talking to Hakuba near the bar. He takes a glance back at his table, notices even more people gathered there and moves straight to the bar instead of returning to his seat. He gets himself two drinks and easily downs one before taking the other one to nurse while he joins the little middle blocker circle. 

“Rintarou, I have a bone to pick with you,” Hakuba says, acknowledging him first. “My cousin is blowing up my phone, begging me to get you to follow her back on Instagram.” Hakuba rests his arms over Suna’s shoulder, grinning at him the moment Suna shoots him a glare. 

“I strongly regret posting that,” Suna admits, rolling his eyes at the looks both Oomimi and Washio shoot him.

“You’ve been saying that for months,” Washio decides to share. “And yet you haven’t deleted it.”

Oomimi hums teasingly. “I heard you earned a significant amount of followers after that.”

“Why is the world acting like I’m the only volleyball player ever to post a thirst trap?”

“Ah! So it was a thirst trap.” Suna groans, finally pushing Hakuba’s arm away to show his annoyance. “For who? Seeing anyone?” Hakuba asks. “I can’t believe you’re interested in someone and you haven’t asked me for advice.”

“When’s the last time you’ve been with anyone?” Hoshiumi’s voice comes through from the direction of the bar. Hakuba snaps his head around to try and get a look at him. Once he spots him he calls him a little shit before leaving him.

“He is not wrong.” Washio laughs, grabbing Suna’s drink for him while Suna attempts to record the little back and forward between Hoshiumi and Hakuba. “I think Gao got dumped like two years ago and he still hasn’t recovered.”

“I’m going to find Shinsuke to update him on this ‘scuffle’.” Oomimi states, stepping away after Suna finishes filming and takes back his drink from Washio.

“We are keeping Kita updated with scuffles?” Suna questions out loud, knowing well Oomimi is already too far away to hear him. 

“I think Aran is keeping track of what idiot embarrasses him tonight to then get even next season.” Washio sighs longingly while Suna almost snorts out his drink. “Is that what love is?”

“Don’t you know?” Suna finds himself asking, a light smile on his face at the thought of how ridiculous Ojiro is at times.

Washio hums. “Akinori couldn’t make it today. He is visiting family overseas.” 

“You would have brought him?” Suna asks, watching Washio’s open expression displaying clear adoration. “What happened to keeping your private life private?”

“It’s not like we would be coming out,” Washio says. “He is friends with several people here. Everyone knows we are close. I don’t think it would have been weird.” He pauses then, looking at Suna with doubt. “Right? It’s normal?”

“Totally.” Suna deadpans.

“Yeah.”

“Many people have brought their buddies as their plus one.” He then adds. “Look over there, Ushijima is with his plus one. Oh, and there, that’s Yaku with his plus one.”

“They are both literally with their partners,” Washio observes before smacking the back of Suna’s head. “Would it be that weird?”

“Naw.” Suna laughs. “I was just joking. No one would have suspected a thing.”

“Right,” Washio assures himself. “We are friends, everyone knows that.” Suna nods, sipping on the last bit of his drink. “It’s like if you were to come with Motoya. Or Atsumu. There is no way anyone would misunderstand that.”

Suna feels the back of his throat burn and he knows it's not from the vodka. “Yeah.” He says, his eyes moving without his consent as they seek out Atsumu. He is still at their table with Sakusa. Bokuto, Akaashi and Osamu are also there but Suna hardly pays them any mind. 

He takes in Atsumu’s relaxed expression and lets the loose smile on his face push the suffocating feelings brewing inside him to a halt. Suna takes one, two, or three seconds to let his eyes rest on him before he blinks and looks down at his glass. 

“I’m getting another drink,” Suna tells Washio who recommends the warm sake before he says something about finding other familiar faces. Suna hums in acknowledgment, carefully studying Washio’s expression before he goes to confirm he hasn’t caught on to Suna’s odd reaction, even if it had only lasted for several seconds.

Washio doesn’t look troubled and after a glance around Suna confirms no one seems to be paying him much attention, he considers himself in the clear before dragging his feet back to the bar. 

The bartender takes one look at him and then brings him the same two drinks he asked for previously. Suna stares perplexed before shrugging and accepting them. It’s after taking a sip of the first drink that a woman approaches him. She surprises Suna by sneaking up on him from his blind spot. Suna feels her presence when she is already comfortably leaning into his personal space. 

She is pretty, Suna notes while she stumbles through an introduction and then mumbles something about being a fan. Suna smiles at her and goes through the usual fare of dealing with a fan. He is about to offer her a picture or an autograph when she surprises him again by asking him for a dance. 

Suna hesitates, studying her height and thinking he is going to have to slouch down to find a comfortable position for at least three minutes. She is short, even with her heels and her nervousness already tells Suna how awkward it’s going to be. 

He agrees and then offers her his untouched drink for her to have before a new song starts up. She blushes and accepts the drink and Suna carries on sipping his drink while she tries keeping up small talk while taking generous sips in between. The song ends a slow one starts up and Suna curses his luck before quickly throwing a comment about her dress.

She gets flustered and Suna finds no harm in also sharing the fact that he does think she is pretty. She stutters over a response and then gets shy but at least his distraction worked and now they are still talking waiting for this song to finish. 

The one that comes after is not a ballad and much less an upbeat song. It’s somewhere in the middle, which is all Suna could ask for. He lets her guide them to a spot on the dance floor she finds comfortable before they begin to dance. Suna makes sure to keep a respectful distance between them while he lets his body relax for this moment to pass by quickly.

He tries to shake the stiffness away from his legs while he sways to the music. He also tries to keep a smile on the entire time, even though eventually all the movement has him feeling a bit uneasy as he starts to consider just how much has had to drink.

It’s as he is trying to blink away his growing discomfort that Suna ends up looking towards his table’s direction and catches only Sakusa and the twins sitting there. They are engrossed in a serious conversation and Suna barely lets his mind a few seconds to wonder what before he is snapping his gaze away and swallowing down the bitter feelings tickling his tongue.

The song ends shortly after that and Suna steps back to make it clear he is not going to stay on the dance floor. The woman looks disappointed but she shows no signs of protesting. Instead, she gets flustered when Suna voices some parting words. Then, before he knows it, she is gripping Suna’s arm and tilting her head upwards to give Suna’s cheek a quick kiss. 

Suna stares at her dumbfound and all she does is mumble something about seeing him later. She then steps away and takes about five steps before her friends are surrounding her and pulling her toward the bar. Suna hears giggles over the music and doesn’t know if he should hate himself more for staring after them like an idiot or for slouching down. 

She would not have reached him had he been standing straight— he should have probably just said no to the dance and dealt with a disappointed fan with grace. Instead, Suna is now definitely feeling the many drinks he swam his body while he tries to ignore how cold his cheek feels. 

Suna has enough sense to not touch it on the off chance that she is still watching him and manages to catch the way he rubs at his skin. But it does feel uncomfortable and odd so Suna makes his way back to the table without a second thought, his legs working fast to put enough distance between them so that he can sneakily run his palm across his cheek to get rid of that feeling of lips on him without possibly hurting her feelings. 

“Don’t worry, yer cheek’s clean.” Osamu's voice snaps Suna’s focus to him. He blinks at him, doing his best to ignore the smirk Osamu wears as he realizes the table wasn’t that far from the dance floor.

“Rin, what the hell was that!?” Ginjima cries out, appearing out of nowhere to shake Suna’s shoulders before Suna can even think of what to say back to Osamu. “Did you get her number? Holy shit!”

His friends begin appearing, one by one, and Suna is faced with the reality that everyone had been watching him make a fool of himself dancing. Though no one brings that up, thankfully. Instead, they tease him about her as if they are kids and not twenty-something adults.

They also seem to be under the impression that it was Suna who approached her by offering her a drink. He tried to correct them two times and he got cut off on both occasions so he gave up. 

Suna lets them have their fun. He is tipsy enough to not take anything they say seriously and their constant teasing is enough to distract him from that odd feeling resting on his chest.

He regrets entertaining the fan but there is a part of him that’s thankful for the current commotion around him. He doesn’t realize he is thankful for it until he remembers why he has been avoiding coming back to his seat since leaving it— he is thankful for that moment of forgetfulness too because it gave him enough time to push back his jealousy and neutralize his emotions.  

Though it’s impracticable how one look at Atsumu is all it takes for Suna’s mental fortitude to spiral once again. Atsumu. Atsumu who is looking at the commotion in silence. Atsumu who’s lip stays in a straight line even though he tries to laugh along with everyone else.

—He is beautiful, Suna can’t help but notice. His suit is tight in all the right places. The first two buttons of his shirt are loose. His tie is missing. His hair is slicked back. His brown eyes look bigger than usual. 

He is beautiful but he looks troubled and that makes Suna’s throat dry fast, his tongue stuck inside his mouth while he tastes all the words he wishes he had the strength to speak.

But then from the corner of his eyes, Suna sees that Sakusa is no longer at their table and instead of talking to Washio and Akaashi at the other side of the room. Right, that’s probably it. Suna understands. He knows well what it feels like to miss someone, even when they are just on the other side of the room. 

“She was cute,” Atsumu says sometime later, long after the commotion has died and everyone has found better things to talk about.

At first Suna almost jerks after hearing Atsumu’s voice but he quickly calms down when his eyes land on the cautious look Atsumu wears. Right. Things are strained between them. Suna knows. 

He should probably apologize. He should probably stop avoiding Atsumu even though it’s not like Atsumu has tried being near him throughout the night. They’ve talked, sure, here and there with everyone else. They’ve also been engrossed in showing their support to Ojiro and his wife. Things have been normal. 

And yet somehow, near the end of the night, right as a great number of people start leaving; right when the number of prying eyes and coherent minds go down; long after Suna and Atsumu have consumed enough drinks;

Now is when they find themselves trying. 

Well. Atsumu is trying. Suna… Suna needs to get a better grip on his heart. He needs to get his lungs to work without his constant mental reminder because his mind is too busy trying to keep up with what Atsumu is saying.

Cute. Suna agrees, though, in his head cute has always had a different meaning. 

Cute is the way Atsumu’s hair shines under the sunlight; cute is the softness of his features when he is watching the sport he loves; cute is the way he stuffs his face with food; cute is the way he lights up when someone does something impressive— 

“Jealous?” Suna says because he can’t correct Atsumu on what cute is.

“Ya wish.” Is the response he gets, a little late and lacking any emotion.

Suna hums, eyes turning to face another direction for a moment before they are back on Atsumu only to see him now focused elsewhere.

Look at me. Suna thinks while he follows Atsumu’s gaze to where Sakusa is sitting far from everyone else with just Bokuto by his side. Suna bites his lip and looks back at Atsumu.

It comes then, the sudden urge to just speak; the burning desire to finally let his mouth vomit out the words. 

Though, with unexpected clarity, Suna knows that it’s not the same words he has always swallowed down in the past. He can feel a burst of anger in him and he knows, he knows that only accusations will come out of his mouth. Only hurtful things. Only selfish demands. Only something else to push Atsumu further away from him because Suna can’t stomach that look of longing he is wearing while looking at Sakusa.

Suna’s heart squeezes in his chest. His throat clogs. The empty feeling inside him emerges and as he fights back the tears threatening to spill he can only think: It’s so unfair. 

“Think you’ll ever make it here?” Suna says, the feeling of moisture in his eyes being enough of a trigger for Suna to bite back his accusations for a little longer. He doesn’t know how he managed to form that sentence, but once the question is asked he can recognize the double meaning. 

Atsumu turns back to him, looking confused for a second until Suna gestures around them. He takes a second to observe his surroundings before he shrugs. “Ma wants me to write a poem for my vows.” He then confesses. 

Suna knows that. She told him that after she tried to convince him half the poems Atsumu writes are about him. “Volleyball, flexible, tall, dark hair, Rintarou, who else?” —If only she knew. 

“I’ll be your best man, yeah?” Suna says because no matter how cold he tried to be the entire night and no matter how Atsumu tried to give him some distance (no matter how busy he is, how unbothered he is, how enthralled by someone else he is), they are still friends. 

The best of friends. 

I love you—

“You will pick me over Samu?”

Atsumu looks at him, his brown eyes filled with warmth even though his face is still caught up in expressing some sadness. He almost looks sombre and Suna tries desperately to make a narrative where that look means anything else; anything less damning; anything that could give Suna any sort of hope—

“Yeah,” Atsumu says, not breaking eye contact. “I’ll pick you.”

Best man. Friend. Nothing more.

What can I do for you to just…?

-o-

“I did somethin’ stupid.” 

The statement surprises Suna. Not because Osamu isn’t prone to doing stupid things but rather because his tone is off. He sounds distraught but he doesn’t look it. He looks nervous and confused, a normal look for him when it comes to feeling regret over doing something stupid. It really is just his voice.

It’s heavy with pain. It’s the type of tone Suna expects to hear from Osamu after a bad breakup. “Did you kill someone?” Suna jokes trying to lighten up the mood. He is sitting on the kitchen counter as he watches Osamu work around the kitchen. 

When he heard the frantic knocking a few minutes ago Suna never expected to find Osamu looking like he just rolled out of bed and ready to collapse. Suna had been expecting a visit from him since they never got to talk at the wedding but it's only been four days since then. He thought Osamu would be too busy to be coming over, at least not for another week or two.

He also expected Osamu to get right into demanding an explanation from Suna. The moment Osamu opened his mouth Suna truly thought the beginning of a long lecture was ahead, not whatever the hell this is. 

“Worse.” Osamu breathes out, his mouth twisting as he seems to think his next words over. Suna watches him as he pulls out ingredients from the fridge and then sets them on the counter before facing Suna. He opens his mouth, closes it, looks away and then looks back at Suna, mouth open to let one more breath out before he confesses: “I hooked up with Kita.”

Suna is glad he is not drinking anything because if he were, he would have spat the drink all over Osamu while choking. 

“What?” Osamu makes a pained sound before raising his hands as if to explain something with their movement yet no words follow that action. Suna stares at him, mouth open before he swallows. “You’re not joking.” He states, not sure why he sounds so confident when he is having trouble believing him. 

“Nope.” Osamu pops the ‘p’, dropping his hands to the counter to hold his weight as he leans over with his head down. Suna hears his loud breathing while he tries to collect his thoughts.

“Okay.” Suna breathes out after a few moments of silence. Osamu makes another pained sound as he lifts his head. “How is that stupid?”

Osamu’s mouth parts as he openly gaps at him before his expression changes. He narrows his eyes slowly, his gaze getting heavier while Suna fights the urge to look away. “Fuck,” Osamu chokes. “You knew.”

Suna blinks and straightens out his posture. “Huh?”

“You’ve known about my feelings,” Osamu explains, judgement clear. “Shit Rin, what the fuck? Why didn’t ya tell me?” The accusatory tone hits Suna almost like a physical blow. 

“Osamu. What?” Suna asks, his voice pitching. He feels confused and he knows he looks confused but Osamu is either ignoring him or not seeing Suna’s current state because he is not trying to explain anything. He just keeps staring at Suna with eyes that scream betrayal. “You wanted me to tell you about your feelings?” 

Suna hopes the disbelief in his tone is enough to slap some sense into Osamu because it sounds stupid. It sounds like a very stupid question that Suna just asked because he thinks that’s what Osamu is getting at. 

“Ya have any idea know how long it took me to figure it out?” Osamu whines, hands holding his hair back from his face. “Fuck. Holy shit. I wasted so much fuckin’ time and it’s yer fault!”

Suna should be recording this conversation. He should pull out his camera and then post this video online to see if anyone can explain to him what the fuck is happening. 

“Samu, can you back up for a second?” Suna breathes in and out and watches Osamu’s face get annoyingly poutier. This can’t be his life right now. “Hooked up?” Suna asks, finding a way to turn around the conversation. “Like, sex?”

“Is there any other hooked up?” Osamu asks with his eyes wide once again and Suna could punch him if he thought that would fix anything.

“You and Kita had sex?” Suna presses, the strain in his voice getting Osamu to groan as he sinks into himself. 

“Yes! Why are ya so caught on that?” Osamu squeaks. “Apparently you’ve known about my big fat crush on him! It can’t be that hard to believe!”

“Ya, but you didn’t?” Suna counters and Osamu gaps at him as Suna finally jumps from the counter to stand face to face in front of Osamu. “But somehow you fucked Kita? Our captain?”

“Don’t say it like that!” Osamu says indignantly. “Does it look like I know anythin’ about fucking? Suna, I’ve like touched myself a handful of times— all in high school and then I’ve been busy building up my restaurant.”

Suna would like to ask what value any of that information has but Osamu is clearly panicking so— well: “Kita took your virginity?”

“First.” Osamu starts, raising a finger to point at Suna’s face. “Don’t say shit like that, I’m not over it and it’s hot.”

Suna blinks at him. “Holy shit.”

“Second.” Osamu lifts another finger from his already raised hand. “Fuck, Rin. What am I going to do?”

“Osamu.” Suna starts with the last bit of patience he has. “How?”

“What? Ya want the details?” He looks alarmed as he goes to place both his hands over Suna’s shoulders. “Rin I can’t even— I was gonna go home? I was just gonna call a taxi or somethin’, thought of catchin’ a ride with Tsumu but he wanted to stay with you and shit, something about the party just getting started even though I know that idiot wasn’t even enjoyin’ himself.”

Osamu shakes him as he rambles and Suna lets himself be manhandled as he pieces the information together in his head. He is talking about the wedding, Suna realizes. That must have been when it happened. Suna remembers Osamu leaving way before he left though he thought it was because he had a long ride back home. 

Now that he thinks about it though, Kita did disappear around that time. Suna had originally thought he must have left with Ojiro and his wife. Maybe he helped them get to the airport for their honeymoon. 

Huh. So while Suna was talking to Atsumu about weddings and how the only spot Suna will ever have next to Atsumu at his wedding is that of a best-man Osamu was getting laid. 

“But whatever, a taxi wasn’t a bad option. Found Kita finishing up his best-man duties since Aran and his wife already left. We started talkin’ and then time just, I don’t know, it just got late and he looked tired so I asked if he had a room?”

Osamu made the first move? God, how is this Suna’s life? This oblivious idiot made the first move without even knowing his feelings and— seriously? Suna would be fuming if the surprise and disbelief he feels weren’t already melting his brain cells. 

“He offered I stay but, fuck, I couldn’t? Shit Rin my heart was going a mile a minute, I was sweatin’ and shit. I had fuckin bugs in my stomach flapping around.” That’s not how Suna would describe it but fuck, it makes sense. “I was burnin’ up! I couldn’t even breathe right— I kept thinkin’ I probably sounded like I’ve been runnin’ laps around the world or some shit. I was so embarrassed? I thought maybe Kita would start scoldin’ me for lookin’ so pathetic or somethin’.”

Suna can picture Osamu physically reacting to being alone with Kita as he comes to terms with his feelings. He can also picture Kita being none the wiser. “But yeah, figured I could just walk him to his room and then leave.”

Osamu removes his hands from Suna’s shoulders to self-consciously wrap his arms around his body as he gets to the climax of his story. “So we are at his door and he just, he looked so good.” Osamu looks memorized. He is still facing Suna but Suna doesn’t think he is looking at him or much less paying attention to the way Suna is staring at him. He is probably lost in thought— lost in that moment. Reliving it. 

“I lost control of myself and I just kissed him? I don’t even know how or, fuck. I didn’t know what to do? His lips were just— he was saying somethin’. Kept insisting on me stayin’ and I just couldn’t focus on anything but his mouth. I don’t even know when I moved or what I was even doing but, Rin, he kissed back?”

Osamu’s eyes finally seem to gain focus. “He kissed me.” Suna nods. He even hums from the back of his throat but he doubts Osamu even hears him. He is too busy going back to freaking out. “His lips were just movin’ and it was fuckin’ fantastic. Ten outta ten, would recommend. Why did no one tell me kissin’ felt so good?”

“You’re acting as if you’ve never kissed anyone before—“

“Kita, Rin.” Osamu interrupts. “I kissed Kita. That’s way fuckin different than kissin’ anybody else.”

“Wait, so you have kissed someone before Kita—“

“That’s not important! Rin! Kita.” Osamu groans. “Fuck. I kissed Kita.”

Suna hums and then reaches over to pat Osamu’s shoulder. “You kissed Kita.” He confirms. “And then you fucked him.”

“I swear to god—“ Osamu cuts himself off after attempting to hit Suna and Suna successfully dodges before raising his arms in surrender. “We made out for a while.” Osamu continues his story after calming down. “Like at the door and then we were inside the room? Then I was just,” a pause, “naked?”

Suna raises an eyebrow at that. “Were you drunk?”

“I was fuckin’ high,” Osamu responds without missing a beat. “It’s like a snorted fuckin’ Kita drugs, I don’t know Rin. I was not drunk I just couldn’t focus on anythin’ other than Kita.” 

Osamu sounds small admitting that but his words are so raw and honest that they make Suna’s gut twist with the weird and uncomfortable feeling of jealousy.

“It’s like he was all over here.” Osamu lifts one hand to gesture to his head. “And here?” He adds after pressing his other hand against his chest, right where his heart lies. “Everythin’ was so hot and just suffocatin’.” He inhales. “I do remember it all, though. I just. Kita.” He swallows. “Kita.”

For a moment Suna wonders if he ever sounds this broken when he says Atsumu’s name. This desperate. When Suna calls Atsumu’s name, does he ever look as lost as Osamu currently stands? And does anyone notice?

“Samu.” Rin starts. “Please tell me you didn’t call him Kita the entire night.”

Osamu groans out a “no” before he tries to hit Suna again. This time when Suna evades he moves to the other side of the kitchen. Osamu watches him go before he seems to remember he has several ingredients out in front of him. 

“Katsudon?” Osamu asks but doesn’t wait for Suna to respond before he starts to work. Suna waits patiently as he notices the way Osamu’s mouth stays curled with the desire to say more. He waits a second. Maybe a minute. Then: “I think I love him.”

Suna laughs. “After one fuck?”

Osamu scoffs as he begins chopping some vegetables. “I think I’ve always kinda loved him?” 

Suna smiles even though Osamu is not looking at him. He moves to sit back on the counter he was originally on as Osamu continues to talk while cooking. 

“He’s helped me a lot. After high school. He… ya know how much he did for me.” Suna does. Everyone does. “I don’t know where I would be without everyone’s support but, but sometimes it feels like Kita was there in a way no one else was. Not even Tsumu.” 

Osamu pauses and looks over to glare at Suna. “Don’t ever tell him I said that.” Suna lifts one hand to act as if he zips his lips closed and Osamu nods approvingly before looking back down at the cutting board. 

“Just havin’ him there, watching me, encouraging me,” Osamu huffs out a laugh and Suna finds his laughter building up inside him. 

This fits Osamu better. This tone of peaceful happiness mixed with an endearing expression. What a difference from just a few minutes ago.

“I love him.” Osamu sighs. “I wish you could feel this. It’s surreal.”

Suna bites his lip. “I bet.” He swallows. “Okay. So what’s stupid about this?”

Osamu turns to him with his eyebrows furrowed and stares before he seems to understand what Suna is saying. He frowns, probably remembering his earlier words and now regretting bringing up his current feelings by saying he did something stupid.

“We haven’t,” Osamu sighs. “We haven’t talked about it.”

Suna figured it would be something like this. “Please tell me you didn’t sneak out the morning after.” 

“No!” Osamu blurts appalled. “‘Course not. I, I woke up. We said good mornin’. And then I left.”

“That’s just as bad.” Suna deadpans. 

“He didn’t stop me!” Osamu tries to argue. “He asked if we could talk and I, I said yeah, but like Rin, he wanted to talk right then and there?” Osamu looks ready to cry and Suna finds himself once again questioning every life decision he ever made that played a part in having him here listening to this nonsense. “My whole body felt so good and my heart was poundin’— I couldn’t just talk. I needed to think.”

“About?”

“Everything!” Osamu shouts. “I don’t know what the hell likin’ someone is like. Bein’ in love?” Osamu laughs. “What if it was a mistake?” 

There is a part of Suna’s brain that is always aware of how similar Osamu and Atsumu are. Regardless of who he is talking to, Suna will always think about those similarities and just be aware of them. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like he ever uses one or the other to understand the twins better. He just can’t help that his brain is always just aware.

Seeing Osamu like this, witnessing him freaking over feelings—it’s an experience Suna never wanted. He realizes that now, even if he doesn’t give his mind room to explore why. 

“You’re an idiot.”

“I know!” Osamu says indignantly. “Rin, shit, I’m so stupid.”

“As long as you’re aware.”

Osamu ignores his comment. “I just, I really really really like him.”

“I thought you said you loved him.” 

“I do!” Osamu huffs. “But I feel like I shouldn’t skip over the like like part of this.”

“Right.”

“It’s an experience, yeah? There is like a way to do this— shit, Rin. Stop distracting me! I need yer help. I need to fix this, shit.”

Osamu doesn’t actually need help. Suna figures that out fifteen minutes later when Osamu continues to ramble about what happened. What Osamu needs is to get everything out of his chest so Suna can reassure him that it’s not all in his head and that having feelings for Kita is not a sign of insanity.

Osamu also needs Suna to explain in detail how it is that Suna was aware of Osamu’s feelings way before Osamu himself knew. At first, it's fun pulling out a list of receipts for the many ways Osamu has proved himself gone for Kita but soon enough it gets boring and all Suna wants is Osamu to never mention Kita’s name with that love-sick look on his face. 

It should be a crime, to be this oblivious. Though Osamu does bring a good point that Suna seems to be the only one that picked up on Osamu’s feelings. Suna thinks about telling him how both his parents very much know and also strongly believe Kita returns those feelings but he doubts it will do Osamu any good. 

He also considers confessing that Atsumu had been onto something a few months back. However, talking about Atsumu’s sudden realization of Kita’s pining would undoubtedly bring the conversation to dangerous territories and that’s something Suna strongly wants to avoid. 

Especially considering Osamu doesn’t look anywhere near considering talking to Suna about the recent distance between them. He is for sure not even thinking about the original reason he wanted to talk to Suna back at the wedding and Suna is only thankful. Even if a part of him resents the fact that Osamu somehow managed to get with the person he loves while Suna,

While Suna is still stupidly in love with Atsumu and Atsumu is dating Sakusa. 

-o-

The national team is called for training two months after Ojiro’s wedding and unfortunately, getting out of the weekend in Hyogo doesn’t seem likely. Partly because he is still doing damage control after stupidly wallowing in self-pity for weeks and partly because he knows there will never be an excuse good enough for anyone to accept. 

So leading up to the weekend, heck, leading up to the week of training; all Suna can feel is dread.

The dread then gets replaced with distress when the week finally comes and Suna is forced to watch Sakusa and Atsumu coexist while pretending he doesn’t know about them. Still. 

Needless to say, it’s not a good week for him. Two days in and it starts to show on his face because he keeps hearing people express their concerns for him left and right. Then comes the actual questions from his coach and the technical team about his health and Suna has to slap himself a few times in the shower to get his act together. 

“You look like a walking corpse.” Komori tries to joke but it has been months of him seeing Suna in the same pitiful state so there is no humour left in his eyes. He hears him mumble something about an intervention to Hakuba and Yaku and Suna starts to consider faking an injury to get himself admitted to the hospital long enough to keep him far away from here, the rest of the week, and the looming weekend. 

No one seems to be buying his constant reassurances and for the first time in his life he is suddenly afraid someone is going to find out. Someone is going to figure out why he is so miserable— so heartbroken. Fuck. What is he supposed to do when that happens?

It can’t happen. Suna tells himself and then makes it to the week by sheer will, shifting his pain to anger directed at himself. Because he only has himself to blame if things go wrong and Suna is ultimately forced to explain why looking at Atsumu is tearing his heart into pieces.

He workouts, he does his stupid drills, he jogs, he blocks, he serves. He tries to smile every other hour so people stop looking at him with pity. He keeps himself clean and far from looking like a walking corpse. He even finds the time to put water in Sakusa’s unlimited collection of sanitizers to make himself feel well enough to stomach the food he is served every night during team dinners. 

He makes it through the week somehow. 

Then Friday night, a few hours before he is ready to call it a night to prepare himself for the weekend, Suna stumbles upon something unexpected. 

At first, he doesn’t get what’s happening but he mostly thinks it's because he doesn’t want to believe what his eyes are seeing. He tries to blink the vision away. He tries to run through any possible explanation before the picture starts getting clear and Suna can’t do anything but stare in complete disbelief.

They haven’t noticed him yet, Suna knows. If they had they would have broken apart. Bokuto wouldn’t be trying to pull Sakusa closer to him and Sakusa wouldn’t be wrapping his arms around his neck. 

They wouldn’t be kissing so desperately.

“What the fuck?” Suna blurts, raising his voice though it’s not loud enough for anyone wandering the area nearby to hear. 

Sakusa and Bokuto pull apart instantly and Suna tries to ignore the sound they make when their lips disconnect. 

“Suna,” Bokuto says, eyes wide as he turns around to face Suna. Suna’s eyes follow him as he straightens out and tries his best to cover Sakusa with his body. “You shouldn’t…”

He trails off but Suna can guess what he was about to say. Yeah. He shouldn’t be here. He is supposed to be sleeping like everyone else. So are they. 

“Suna,” Bokuto speaks again, his face going through various expressions before it settles on something cautious. From behind him, Sakusa looks anything but cautious. He looks irritated, maybe even frustrated. “Let me explain.” 

“Don’t bother.” Suna sneers, the words leaving his mouth as his mind concludes what he has witnessed. 

It’s clear neither Sakusa nor Bokuto look the least bit apologetic. And that’s— that’s so fucking upsetting. Suna would shake from anger if he weren’t so caught up in trying to keep his face neutral for the sake of his sanity.

After all, they don’t know that Suna knows about Sakusa and Atsumu. They don’t know that whatever lie or excuse they try to spew won’t change the fact that Sakusa is here cheating on the man he has apparently been in love with for years. 

Fuck. What is he supposed to do? 

“Suna.” Sakusa finally speaks up and all Suna can do is shoot him a look of disapproval and disgust before storming out of the room. 

A part of him is curious to hear what Sakusa might have to say but a greater part of him needs to find some silence to mule over what to do next. After all, it’s not just about Sakusa. Fuck. Bokuto— Bokkun, Kou, or whatever the fuck Atsumu calls him these days. Sakusa couldn’t have picked anyone else?

Isn’t Bokuto one of Atsumu’s closest friends? Suna can’t even begin to explain how fucked up everything is. How could they do this to him? Do they have any idea how fragile Atsumu’s heart can be at times? Do they not know how much he cares even though he likes to act like he doesn’t?

This is going to break him. Suna can already picture the brokenhearted expression Atsumu’s face will twist into and he hates it even more that he is going to be the one to witness it. Because he has to tell him. Suna refuses to hide this from him, even if it means coming clean about knowing about his stupid secret relationship. 

He doubts Atsumu will even care at this point. He is going to be too caught up dealing with the breakdown of finding the man you love cheating on you with your friend. Fuck. Suna is going to tell Atsumu everything and then he is going to break his fists punching both those backstabbing assholes.

He is going to inflict as much pain as Atsumu is undoubtedly going to show— by the time Osamu finds out, Suna is going to have to have an apology ready for getting even without him.

The only reason Suna is not thinking of killing them is that the national team will probably suffer significantly losing all three of them. Suna without a doubt will get benched if not kicked out for assault. Sakusa will be hospitalized while Bokuto will probably just have a pretty bruise to show in the next few friendlies. 

Whatever. Suna doesn’t care. Not when the rage inside him feels more overpowering than any other feeling he has ever experienced. Fuck. He needs to calm down. Breathe. He tells himself as his feet move towards the weight room without a second thought.

It’s already Saturday by the time Suna no longer needs to remind himself to breathe. His body is sore from the workout but his mind is no longer blinded by rage.

He doesn’t have everything figured out but at least his emotions have calmed significantly. All he needs to do is get some sleep so he can attend the last team meeting tomorrow morning before they are dismissed. Then he needs to survive the ride to Hyogo so that he can pull Atsumu aside that night to tell him what he knows. 

That’s the plan. 

Except he makes it to his room only to find Atsumu waiting for him and that plan gets tossed out the window with one look at Atsumu’s expression. 

He knows. 

“Tsumu.”

“Bokkun told me what happened,” Atsumu says and Suna backtracks, unsure he heard right but at the same time, he knows the words are true. 

“Yeah?” Suna says feeling the anger rise to his chest. His fist curl as he tries to keep his breathing even. What did he tell you? How did he excuse himself? Did he apologize?

Atsumu bites his lip as the silence stretches. “You were pretty rude.”

“I don’t think I was,” Suna remarks, suddenly unsure of how to deal with the situation. 

He remembers then that Atsumu doesn’t know that Suna knows about him and Sakusa. Maybe that’s why he looks so troubled? Maybe that’s why Suna can’t get a good read on him? Maybe that’s why Atsumu hears his words and his face falls, shoulders visibly sagging. 

“It bothers you that much?” Atsumu asks, his voice unusually quiet. 

“Of course,” Suna replies though he thinks he is missing something. Atsumu isn’t making any sense. “Who wouldn’t this bother? It's not okay.”

Who wouldn’t get upset about catching someone being unfaithful? Who wouldn’t be disappointed in catching two people he respects going behind the back of someone who loves them. 

Fuck, this must be horrible for Atsumu. This must be killing him if Bokuto told him the truth. Though Suna wants to know why Sakusa wasn’t the one to do it. Is he really that much of a coward? 

Is that really the man to who Suna lost Atsumu to?

“Sunarin—” Atsumu’s head shoots up. “Rintarou, ya really—“ He pauses, his arms wrapping around his waist as he stares at Suna in search of something. Suna can’t even begin to guess what. He is too busy caught up in hearing Atsumu use his name while his voice is clearly cracking. 

“This is— this is how you feel?”

“What?” Suna asks, now completely unsure of why Atsumu is reacting the way he is. “Atsumu, this isn’t about how I feel. It’s about them. What they were doing—“

“Why does it matter?” Atsumu cuts him off and Suna clamps his mouth shut. “What does it— I can’t. Fuck.”

“Atsumu?” Suna calls at a complete loss. His mind is a mess while he tries to make sense of the sight in front of him. Why is Atsumu crumbling?

“Suna,” Atsumu returns, his voice dull. “Just. Regardless of how you feel. Just don’t tell anybody.” He orders, meeting his eyes one more time before turning away and then pushing past him to leave the room. 

The door is closing before Suna can even process his words.

-o-

He barely gets any sleep that night. He feels like shit after his conversation with Atsumu even though he can’t understand what the hell went wrong and why Atsumu seemed more hurt with what Suna had to say over what Sakusa, his partner, and Bokuto, his friend, did. 

Suna is starting to believe Bokuto lied when talking to Atsumu because come morning, when they are all gathered for the meeting, Atsumu is ignoring Suna while he sits by Sakusa and Bokuto. 

Atsumu isn’t even looking his way. 

Bokuto and Sakusa look just as tense as him but they can at least meet Suna’s gaze. They don’t shift uncomfortably under his eyes like Suna would hope they would with the guilt that should be eating at them. They don’t seem to look all that worried or concerned. If anything, they look disappointed and that’s—

Suna doesn’t care enough to figure out what that is. 

He doesn’t even care that he is getting odd looks from other people. He doesn’t care that Ojiro is giving him the cold shoulder or that Komori is watching Suna with a clear frown as if he can’t quite believe what he sees while looking at him.

He doesn’t care about anything other than the fact that Atsumu won’t fucking look at him. And just like that:

Look at me. 

Pay attention to me.

It’s a full fucking circle. 

What do I have to do for you to just— Suna takes a deep breath in—free me from these feelings?

-o-

They make it to Osamu’s restaurant but Atsumu disappears five minutes later after a quick chat with his brother. Akagi and Kosaku try asking him a million questions but Osamu claims to know the answer to none. Oomimi is the only one smart enough to ask Ojiro but he also confesses to not really knowing what’s happening. 

It’s Kita that tries to get something out of Suna. 

“I don’t know,” Suna tells him because he doesn’t know what else to say. Why is Atsumu acting this way? Was it something Suna said? Or maybe this is from the heartbreak of knowing he was cheated on? 

But then why did he part ways with Sakusa normally? Why was he still calling him Omi-kun while the last thing Suna remembers hearing is “Suna.”

He knows. He knows.  

Suna forces his face to stay clear from any emotions and he pushes through with the work Osamu has set out for them. He spends the time missing Atsumu and worrying about him even though his heart is crumbling and the tears are becoming harder to keep inside.

He knows. 

Not possible. Suna tells himself. 

He knows.

He can’t. He tries to convince himself. 

He knows. 

How? Suna lets that question echo inside him. How? When? Why? 

—Is this, he inhales, is this it?

“Does he know?” Suna asks his hands resting in complete defeat by his side as Ma stands in front of him. “You’ve talked to him, yeah? Miya-san, does he know?”

He can’t even bring himself to look at Ma’s face. He barely even managed a few minutes ago when he alongside the rest of his friends finally made it over to the Miya compound. Ma was waiting for them at the door, a clear frown on her face as she studied each one of them over.

Suna tried to ignore how cold her gaze felt when it landed on him.

“I ordered some fried chicken to add for dinner, Rin love, come with me to pick it up?”  

To say he was surprised with the request is an understatement, though no one else seemed all that shocked. They all left him standing outside alone with Ma before he could even come up with a response. “Come on.” She urged and then basically dragged Suna over to the nearest chicken restaurant.

It was a ten-minute walk. A walk they spent in complete silence. He has no idea what Ma is thinking about or why her touch feels gentle even though her gaze is sharp enough to cut him into pieces. All he knows is that every minute spent walking is a millstone Suna spends in his head overanalyzing, dissecting, and concluding the inevitable. 

The harsh truth. 

The unexpected end.

“Does he know what?”

That I love him. He can’t bring himself to say it because the thought alone is breaking him apart. There is also a great part of him that refuses to believe that could be the reason for the way that Atsumu is behaving but then again, what else is there? 

Why is Suna the one Atsumu can’t stomach to face when Sakusa was the one that cheated on him?

“Rintarou,” Ma calls, her hand on his cheek as she draws in his attention after spacing out. “Let me go get the chicken, I’ll be right out.” She gently grazes his cheek before removing her hand. “Take a second to collect yer thoughts.”

Ma doesn’t wait for a response before she disappears inside the restaurant Suna didn’t notice stopping by. He watches her go regardless, his mind unable to calm down. He feels at a loss while the overwhelming pressure of his feelings gets heavier by the second. 

There is no way he is going to be able to collect his thoughts by the time Ma comes back out. It becomes clear minutes after Suna is left just staring at her. Though, Suna gives up on even trying when Osamu appears out of nowhere, drawing Suna’s attention with a firm slap on his back.

“Where is Ma?” He asks and Suna gestures his head towards the restaurant as a response. “Tsumu wasn’t home.” Osamu then explains. “I think she knows somethin’.”

Suna can’t find anything to say to that and surprisingly Osamu too keeps quiet as they wait for Ma to join them. 

“What are ya doin’ here, honey?” Are her first words when she comes out with two bags of food in either hand. 

“Tsumu said he was goin’ home but he ain’t there,” Osamu states with a shrug. “And I know you two know somethin’.”

Ma levels her son with a look and then gives him the bags for him to hold before turning to face Suna. There is a question there and Suna has run out of energy to truly think it over. He looks away. 

He hears Ma sigh. “Stubborn and oblivious.”

“Ma—“

“Rin, love, what the hell is going on in that head of yers?” Suna’s eyes flicker back to her while Osamu shuts his mouth, his attention now fully on both of them.

Suna doesn’t know how to answer her. He doesn’t even know what she means. “What?”

“Atsumu is going on and on about the way you reacted to his teammates,” Ma explains, her features making her look older than she is. Suna thinks she looks like Atsumu did hours ago when they were talking. “He is under the impression you have a problem with their relationship.”

“Teammates?” Osamu questions. He looks lost in thought and then all too quickly the gears in his head seem to do their job as recognition flashed in his eyes. He straightens out his posture and narrows his eyes at Suna. “You… Tsumu thinks yer homophobic?”

“What!?” Suna bristles, the words ringing in his ear loud and clear. He feels completely at a loss, unable to figure out how to even process this conversation.

“What the fuck—ah. Sorry ‘ma, what the shit did ya do to get him to think that?” Osamu questions gaze filled with judgement. Ma looks ready to smack him again. 

Suna can’t believe this is happening. “I don’t—“ He stops and swallows before turning to Ma. “Did he tell you that?” 

“He is crushed.” Ma says, “He is going on and on about the anger and hatred you showed.” She adds and Suna starts piecing it all together then. “Says he even got into a fight with his teammates trying to defend you but then ya went and proved him wrong.”

“This is making zero sense,” Osamu says. “What happened?”

Suna’s mind is running a mile a minute. “I, I was rude yeah but—“ He inhales, glances at Osamu and sighs in defeat. “I thought, I thought they were cheating.” He says unsure. 

“Cheating?”

‘I— Atsumu…” Suna hesitates. “Is he not dating Sakusa?”

Ma looks shocked, her mouth falling open while Osamu makes some sort of noise to express his surprise. “Sakusa!? Ya think Tsumu is datin’ Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

The question hangs in the air for enough time to pull out a laugh from Ma. She tries to keep it in at first, but the longer Suna stays frozen and staring at Osamu while he stares back completely dumbfound is probably what caused her to crack. Ma laughs and then looks up at the sky in disbelief, as if to ask god, are ya seeing this?

Even Osamu looks completely caught off guard by her reaction. 

“A few months ago I heard Motoya talking to Sakusa.” Suna tries to explain himself, letting Ma’s laughter calm him while he continues to process the information circling his head. “He was congratulating him on his relationship and, I just,” He swallows. “The words Motoya used trigged a memory in me and I … I thought it was Atsumu.”

Ma sighs and pats his back while Osamu gives him a deadpan expression before also sighing but in a much more irritated way. “Ya really think he would date someone and not tell you?” He asks and Suna almost gets whiplash from the way those words hit him.

It’s like a punch to the stomach before he feels like someone rips a blindfold from his eyes. It’s then that Suna is finally, finally looking at something that’s far from new. It’s like a truth that has always been there is finally visible.

Suna has been so stupid. 

“Oh, you foolish boy.” Ma sighs again, coming closer to hug him. Suna lets her pull him for the hug even though is incapable of moving any of his limbs. He is still too shocked, too overwhelmed. She steps back after a moment and then her hands go to his cheeks. “That surely explains your recent behaviour.”

“Not really?” Osamu cuts in. “Why the hell didn’t ya just talk to Tsumu? What’s the big deal? Ya hate Sakusa or somethin’?” 

“That’s.” Suna pauses and thinks. He doesn’t have much to say for that, not if he wants to keep Osamu from knowing that Suna was upset that Atsumu was dating someone that wasn’t him.

Suna shifts his attention back to Ma. “Atsu… he is hurt? Not angry?”

“Oh no, he is furious,” Ma says softly.

“I would be too, yer our friend Rin. But shit, Tsumu is an idiot. He could have just asked ya? Why is he goin’ around assuming shit?” Ma steps away from Suna to hit him. “Ow— what?”

“Foolish boy. Seriously, how dense are ya?” She scolds with her hands on her waist. 

“He was crying?” Suna asks, cutting off Osamu before he can respond to his mom. 

Ma turns and watches him until her eyes seem to find something that makes her smile. “Do you see it now?” She asks instead of answering Suna’s question. 

Yes. Suna thinks but doesn’t voice as Osamu speaks up. 

“Tsumu is a huge baby. Ya two seriously need to work on the whole talking bit. I can’t believe ya thought he was dating Sakusa— shit, Rin, did no one tell you about Sakusa and Bokuto? Wait. Is this why you’ve been so miserable? Ya really must hate Sakusa.” Suna snorts at that while Ma reaches over to hit him again “Ma!”

“Seriously Osamu,” She huffs and once again Suna cuts off Osamu before he can say anything back. 

“I’m in love with him.” 

Osamu has never looked more surprised. His eyes widen as whatever words he had ready for his mom are swallowed down in favour of gaping at Suna. “You… love?” He squeaks. A million things dance on Osamu’s face and Suna could honestly laugh at the surprise there. He really didn’t know. “Sakusa?”

Fuck. Suna really wants to hit him. “I'm in love with Atsumu.”

Osamu starts choking then and Ma smacks him one more time before grinning at Suna. “Are ya gonna tell him?” She asks as she starts patting Osamu’s back while he continues choking. 

“Yeah.” Suna inhales. “I think I am.”

The smile Ma shoots him is all the reassurance he needs. “You’ll find him at the shop.”

Miya-sama has a shop just a few streets down their home. It’s a small woodworking shop that belongs to a friend of his but Miya-sama often spends his free time there helping with the workload. Suna has been there once or twice, mostly to help him move heavy wood around with the twins. 

He knows the quickest route there. If he runs he will probably be there in under ten minutes. 

“Wait, wait!” Osamu finally speaks as Suna takes his first step forward. He pauses to watch Osamu flap his hands around as he tries to come out with the words he wants to say. “Tsumu? My brother? Love?”

“Osamu,” Ma sighs tiredly. 

Osamu waves her off, handing her back the bags of food before he goes to put his hands on Suna’s shoulders. “We got a lot of talkin' to do Rin. Ya think just ‘cause we are friends I’m going to let ya make a move on my brother— MA! Ow. Ya can’t just let him go. We gotta gather his intentions.”

“I’ve known that boy’s intentions for years now. It’s not his fault yer a blind fool!” She hands the food back to Osamu who takes it with one hand, the other stays gripping Suna’s shoulder tightly. “Seriously, Osamu, what am I supposed to do with ya?”

Suna laughs at Osamu’s exclamation of “Years!?”

“I’ve loved him longer than you have loved Kita.” Suna throws, enjoying the look of pure horror that grows on Osamu’s face while Ma’s face instantly brightens.

“Suna, you fuck—“

“Ohmygod!” Ma squeals, the earlier scowl she had when facing her son long gone. “Is it happenin’? Is this real? Osamu, love, are ya and Shinsuke finally together?”

“Together?” Osamu splutters and then his eyes go wide. “Finally?”

“Tsumu and I might be later for dinner,” Suna says sliding from his grasp as Ma grabs his shirt. “Don’t wait up.” 

Osamu pays him little mind while Ma simply waves a hand in dismissal. “Wha—what?” Osamu shrieks. “Ma, ya knew? Seriously? Betrayed by my own blood?”

Before he is completely out of sight Suna catches Ma’s expression of pure glee.

-o-

He finds Atsumu sitting outside the shop.

He is on the curve of the sidewalk, his arms keeping his knees close to his chest while his head rests over them. Suna can’t see his expression since his hair is covering his face but Suna knows the tells of his body well so it’s easy to pick out his sadness. 

Suna’s heart twists when he remembers he is the reason for that sadness. The pain of that fact almost has him freezing in fear but it’s knowing that everything was just a big misunderstanding and that Suna can apologize to get that smile back on Atsumu’s face that gives him the courage to take the last few steps toward him.

When Atsumu hears Suna approach he instantly lifts his head to catch sight of him. When he notices it’s Suna Atsumu’s eyes harden as he stands up. Suna knows he is ready to bolt. 

“Atsumu, please,” He instantly pleas, aware of how breathless he sounds due to his run-over. “We need to talk.”

“How did you,” Atsumu stops, his mouth closing as his eyes study Suna. He looks at him as if he can’t quite believe he is here. 

“Ma told me.” He admits and watches the way Atsumu’s face shifts to something that shows a hint of betrayal. 

They don’t say anything for a moment, the silence stretching long enough for Suna to even out his breathing. Atsumu stares at him the entire time, a mixture of emotions dancing across his face before they settle to show his heartbreak. 

At least, that’s what Suna thinks is fitting to call it. Even though he knows he is being presumptuous in assuming Atsumu feels that strongly about the current situation. “I don’t have anything to say to you.” Atsumu finally ends up saying, breaking the silence.

“Please,” Suna begs, feeling his heart twist. “Please just hear me out.” 

Atsumu studies him, biting his lips as he seems to think it over. Suna holds his breath until Atsumu ends up sighing in defeat. He takes a step back before gesturing for Suna to continue. 

And at first, Suna thinks he won’t be able to actually go through with it. 

He thinks he might be able to clear out the misunderstanding but not get around to the confessing bit. And that terrifies him.

“How do you feel about Sakusa?”

Atsumu squares his shoulders. “Is this a joke?”

“Just humour me.” Suna pleads.

“He is my friend?” Atsumu answers begrudgingly. “My teammate?” He then narrows his eyes. “I care about him and respect him.”

Suna waits for it to be clear that Atsumu is not going to say anything else before she asks: “Do you like him?”

“Like? Like… like like?” Atsumu looks perplexed. “No!” 

Relief. It’s such a fucking relief to hear that. Suna feels like all the weight has been lifted from his shoulders. 

He thinks of what to say next but Atsumu is not done talking. “But.” He adds and Suna’s heart stops. “But, I do like men.” And then it starts up again and Suna feels like he can finally, finally breathe. 

“Good.” He says, watching Atsumu’s face display his confusion. “I— that's good.” Like a bandaid, he then thinks before admitting: “You know Tatsuki is dating Akinori? Bokuto’s hot, good at everything, friend?” 

Atsumu knows well who Akinori is because that’s how he is always described by Bokuto’s sisters. That’s actually how anyone talking about Akinori describes him. 

“Okay?” He looks surprised at the information, his eyebrows furrowing as he mules it over. “I didn’t know that. What—“

“You know Kita has feelings, right?” Suna throws in, interrupting Atsumu who simply stares at him with wide eyes. “Do you know who for?”

“No,” Atsumu says. “You believe me?” He then asks surprised.

“Atsumu, Kita has liked only one person for the past eight years. It’s so obvious— like so fucking obvious and that person is just as in love with him which is ridiculous because you really could have won a bike if only people talked about their damn feelings.”

Say it. Come on. Say it. Tell him. You can’t back down. Find the words. 

“Who?” Atsumu asks and he looks like he is holding his breath. He is watching Suna with defeated eyes and shit, he is so beautiful. He is so observant and yet so dumb. 

“They literally see each other every fucking day.” Suna huffs. “Probably.”

Atsumu’s face changes before he is lost in thought. He stares ahead, eyes unfocused as his eyebrows continue to show confusion. Eventually, he seems to finally get it as he goes through all the motions of a typical secret reveal. 

And then his mouth is opening and closing and Suna finally finds the words he wants to say. “Wait, ya don’t mean—“

“I thought you were dating Sakusa.” Suna blurts, his voice coming out rushed but loud and clear nonetheless. 

Atsumu looks thrown off by the sudden shift in the conversation. He blinks and then his face goes from showing his surprise to confusion and borderline anger. “You what?”

“I heard Motoya talking to him over the phone a few months ago. He was congratulating him on his relationship and from what he said I just assumed it was you.”

“Me? You—what— Omi?” Atsumu looks horrified. “When have I ever given you that idea?” He blurts, finally moving closer to Suna. Finally relaxing. Then he suddenly becomes alert, eyes shifting to something desperate. “Wait, so in the locker room…?”

He trails off and Suna watches him for a second, admiring just how easy he can piece together information. “I thought I caught Sakusa cheating on you,” Suna says what he is sure Atsumu is thinking.  

Finally. Suna thinks, feeling a different weight being lifted from his shoulders. What a fucking stupid misunderstanding. 

“Oh.” Atsumu breathes out, several emotions flashing through his face.

“I was rude.” Suna continues, trying to work out all the emotions Atsumu is showing. “And I definitely owe them an apology. Atsumu, I don’t— I’m not homophobic. Far from it.”

“Oh.” He says again, softly.

“I just. I was upset, especially because I thought you were keeping the relationship a secret.”

“Right.” Atsumu inhales, and his eyes shift once again. They close off a bit and Atsumu takes a step back. “Yer a good friend Sunarin.” He says and Suna gets the impression that Atsumu’s voice is seconds away from cracking. 

“I’m not.” Suna counters. “I’m a shit friend. I thought you were lying to me. I ignored you for months. I gave you the cold shoulder.”

Atsumu nods along to his rant as if agreeing and yet: “I get it, ya were…worried.” He looks troubled as if worried is not the term he would use. 

Suna thinks then about bringing the conversation back to Osamu and Kita but somehow, the words are out before he can stop them. 

“I was jealous.” Suna declares. 

He watches the way those words pull out the surprised reaction from Atsumu. “Jealous?” 

How does Suna tell him? How can he put into words how in love he has been with Atsumu since the first day he saw him? How does he summarize ten years of emotions, of silent suffering, of ridiculous narratives that paid him no justice?

“I couldn’t stomach it,” Suna tells him. “The thought of you with Sakusa, training together, playing together, sharing schedules and routines as we did back in the day…I couldn’t deal with knowing someone else got to have your undivided attention. I hated thinking about it— It ate at me. I thought about how easy it was for me to fall for you and I knew he could do it. The only difference was that you would feel the same way because it’s Sakusa Kiyoomi, top spiker, college MVP and whatever other ridiculous title.”

Atsumu looks to have heard him but at the same time he is looking at Suna as if he is not there. He is staring straight ahead, mouth ajar and eyes unfocused as Suna continues to make a fool out of himself. 

“I’ve always, deep down held you higher than I could ever hold myself. I— you’re Atsumu. I don’t have the mind to put into words just how much you mean to me. I— just from the moment I met you, I just wanted your attention. I wanted you to look at me.” He inhales. “I wanted you to just… I needed you to look at me the same way I looked at you.” Suna breathes in. “I always… Atsumu, I love you? Like I am stupidly gone for you? It drives me crazy. You don’t know how half my mind works, how you have completely destroyed my world—”

Every other word that he thought of speaking gets swallowed down the moment he feels Atsumu’s lips touch his. 

Suna stills, unaware of when Atsumu got so close to him in the first place. He is completely stunned and Atsumu, well, he is frozen too. Their lips are touching but neither of them is moving them. 

Though somehow Suna still feels like his breath was completely stolen away. 

“You love me?” Atsumu whispers against his lips as they stay barely touching. Suna doesn’t think he has the power to pull away to answer that— much less to stay where he is since any movement from his lips will only result in another graze, another tempting touch.

Atsumu waits for his response, however, also not moving, though Suna can see him tremble as each seconds ticks by.

It’s the realization that Atsumu has his eyes closed that gives Suna the courage to respond. 

Suna cups his cheeks first, drinking in the sight of the calm and yet hopeful expression on Atsumu’s face as his eyes are shut delicately as if he is at complete peace while breathing the same air as Suna.  

“I can’t breathe around you,” Suna says and their lips graze with each word. “My body tenses, my lungs shrink, my blood freezes.” He feels Atsumu inhale. “I can’t even tell you how my heart clenches.”

“Why didn’t ya say anything?” Atsumu says, moving a bit closer to Suna so their lips make more contact when he speaks.

“I was scared,” Suna confesses and the words are barely out before Atsumu’s lips are completely pressed against his once again. This time, however, Atsumu moves them without a care.

Suna shuts his eyes as Atsumu opens his mouth to guide Suna’s lips in a dangerous dance that has Suna’s heartbeat skyrocketing. Atsumu kisses him vigour and Suna thinks his chest might explode as he sinks into him completely, his hands staying in place holding Atsumu’s face close to him while one of Atsumu's hands finds its way to Suna’s waist and the other to the back of his neck. 

They kiss like starving men. Atsumu tries to pull him closer and closer the more their lips move. Suna tries to sink further in the kiss by the time their tongues are in the mix as well, fighting for a taste of each other.

In all that, Atsumu is also making sounds Suna has never heard but can now easily claim he can’t live without. In turn, Suna knows he is whimpering and moaning like that kiss is tearing him apart.

When they pull apart, Suna instantly feels his mouth dry.

“Scared of what?” Atsumu asks, breathless and astonished. He no longer looks upset. He doesn’t look mad. He just looks—

“Because I was your friend.” Happy. He looks happy. “That’s all I ever thought you’d see me as.” Atsumu is looking at him like he has been looking at him for the past ten years. “I couldn’t risk losing you.” Happy. 

“Stupid,” Atsumu declares, pulling Suna down by the grip on his neck to press their foreheads together. “So stupid. Why would you lose me? Ya couldn’t even if ya tried.” 

Suna is going to cry. He is going to fucking cry and ruin the goddamn moment.

So he hugs him. 

He falls right into his arms and tucks his chin over his shoulder and wraps his arms around his body so tightly he hears Atsumu groan. Suna hugs him and then he feels Atsumu hugging him back and everything,

Everything starts making sense. 

Look at me.

I am.

Pay attention to me.

I always do.

What do I have to do for you to just… love me?

Nothing. 

Suna chokes on a laugh. 

I already love ya. Can’t ya see?

“I’m so stupid.” Suna relents and he hears Atsumu chuckle as he hugs him a little tighter.

“Sunarin,” Atsumu then calls but is interrupted by the voice of his dad that rings loud enough for Suna and Atsumu to jump apart from each other. 

“Aint that sweet.” Miya-sama teases, a grin plastered on his face. “Good job son, only took you a decade.”

Suna blushes, turning to avoid Atsumu’s searching eyes before he turns to gawk at his dad as he registers the implication of those words. The only thing keeping Suna from collapsing is that Atsumu is sharing some of his embarrassment with a similar shade of pink on his cheeks. 

“What do ya mean, old man? Ya knew somethin’?”

Miya-sama laughs and doesn’t reply to Atsumu which causes him to throw a fit of sorts. His dad humours him by nodding along to whatever he is saying but the entire time his eyes seem to be locked on Suna.

Good job son, they seem to be echoing. 

-o-

When they walk inside the house, they are standing side by side and with their hands clasped together. Predictably, all eyes instantly go to their interlocked hands and the shocked expressions coming from everyone has Suna feeling like an accomplished actor, worthy of an award and world recognition. 

“Holy shit.”

“No kidding.”

“Nofuckinway.”

“About damn time.” Ma’s voice is the only one free of surprise. She beams at Atsumu before moving towards both of them and engulfing them in a hug.

Their friends continue talking about them the entire time Ma whispers her congrats and happy feelings about them. She then reassures them that everything will be okay and then coos at Atsumu before expressing just how proud she is. 

Atsumu pushes her away then, cheeks bright red with embarrassment. “Where’s Samu?” He asks to distract his mom. Suna smiles at that and grips his hand tighter while the room goes quiet. “And Kita-san?”

Suna takes a second to glance around in search of both Osamu and Kita, though he already knows he won’t find them. Atsumu seems to do the same, looking around before his eyes go back to his mom. “Where is that scrub? He owes me a fuckin bike!”

Ojiro coughs from the side. 

Miya-sama crackles. 

Ma beams and that's all it takes for Atsumu’s face to shift in disgust.

Osamu and Kita don’t come back that night, so all the attention is on Suna and Atsumu. They spend the night being interrogated. Everyone is truly shocked about them. They are especially surprised that Suna hid his feelings so well. 

At least for the first half of the night. By the time the food is finished and the drinks are halfway gone the conversation shifts. It goes from every sentence starting with ‘I can’t believe’ to ‘you know, now that I think about it’.

It’s humorous and a bit embarrassing. They start drawing up theories, putting together evidence and receipts accumulated over the past ten years. 

They apparently always lingered around each other. They were always so close. They gossiped together, talked about everything first with each other and then they told other people. They were obsessed with knowing everything about each other. They tended to agree on everything and only disagree with each other when there was some sort of challenge or competition on the line. 

They were also too comfortable with each other. Always in the others’ personal space. It’s almost like they were attached to the hip. Almost as if Suna were Atsumu’s twin. Back then, Ojiro admits, they thought it was just endearing and a true sign of friendship. 

But now it makes sense. Now they understand what that tension between them meant. Now they can put a name to their connection. 

(His friends are full of shit.)

They never dated anyone. Akagi ends up pointing out shortly before everyone passes out and Suna feels both an unexplainable happiness and sadness mixed when hearing that. “I can’t believe we thought it was because they were busy with volleyball.”

Atsumu meets his eyes then and Suna instantly understands what he is thinking. “We were busy.” He says out loud, ignoring the dismissive sounds all his friends let out as the conversation carries around him. 

But also;

“There was never anyone else,” Atsumu tells him that night when they finally have a moment to themselves.

“Yeah.” Suna agrees, eyes feeling suspiciously moist. 

-o-

He drives back to Osaka with Atsumu the next day. They leave shortly after breakfast and right as Osamu appears, eyes on the ground due to the exclamations of betrayal coming from everyone. The consensus is that he defiled their former captain, so they mostly spend their time glaring at him in mock anger while Atsumu is the only one who glares with actual anger. 

Though Atsumu doesn’t get to say anything since Osamu silences him by pointing at Suna and shooting Atsumu a pointed look.

“Talk later scrub.” Is all Atsumu says before he is dragging Suna to his dad’s car. 

They spend the ride itself just listening to music and talking about volleyball since they haven’t had the chance to enjoy a relaxing conversation in a while. At some point, they stop by a mall where Suna goes to buy a plant and expensive alcohol that he later offers to Bokuto the moment he opens the door to his apartment.

Bokuto stares at him, accepting the gifts regardless of the clear confusion he feels. He then takes a few seconds to study Suna and then Atsumu before he steps to the side and offers them entry to his place.

Atsumu gives Suna a little shove of encouragement and before he knows it, Suna is inside Bokuto’s apartment, facing Sakusa who looks seconds away from decking him.

“I came to apologize.” Suna offers, standing straight to avoid being intimidated by the centimetre Sakusa has over him. 

“You don’t look sorry.” Sakusa accuses, arms crossed over his chest. 

Suna sighs and shrugs. “Yeah, I’m not sorry at all about my reaction. I thought it was reasonable considering what I believed at the time.” 

Sakusa raises an eyebrow and Bokuto coughs to clear his throat. He is standing next to Atsumu, between both Sakusa and Suna to keep some space between them. 

“Sunarin,” Suna hears Atsumu hiss and Suna has to bite his tongue and count to five before continuing. 

“But I am sorry for thinking you are a cheater.” He tells Sakusa who stares at him void of any emotions. “And for assuming you’re a shit friend,” Suna adds after shifting his attention to Bokuto. “I’m also sorry for mixing water into your sanitizers, and though I also felt justified at the time, I can see how that was wrong and petty.” He finishes, his eyes back on Sakusa to watch his face finally shift to show his rage.

From the side Atsumu groans as he slams a hand against his forehead while Bokuto stares astonished before bursting out laughing.

“I’m going to kill him,” Sakusa states, though he is looking at Atsumu when he speaks.

“Please don’t.” Atsumu pleads, stepping forward to now fully stand in front of Suna as he raises his hands in surrender. “Give me a chance to explain.”

Atsumu gives them a summarized version of the story. He leaves out minor (embarrassing) details and focuses mostly on addressing why Suna acted like such a dick on Friday. When he gets to the bit of what happened on Saturday after Suna explained himself and confessed, Suna finds the courage to wrap his arms around Atsumu’s waist as he hooks his chin over his shoulder while Atsumu carries on talking like nothing happened.

Bokuto does his best not to laugh for most of the story, though he fails miserably when the bit about Suna thinking Sakusa and Atsumu were dating comes to light. Sakusa looks the most offended hearing that and thus he and Atsumu spend a good five minutes agreeing on how that’s never going to happen. 

(“You and me? Seriously?”

“Right! Not in a million years!”)

And then another ten minutes arguing about why they each agree that's never going to happen.

(“You would be lucky to ever get me to consider you as a potential partner, Miya.”

“Shove that bullshit up yer ass, Omi cause I ain't gettin’ near that.”)

And then Bokuto accepts Suna’s apology before congratulating them on their relationship and they are back to focusing on the conversation at hand. Sakusa then shifts his anger towards his cousin for being such a loudmouth (Suna laughs at that and prays Komori will forgive him for eavesdropping) and then eventually accepts Suna’s apology.

Suna is ready to call it a day but before he can excuse himself and Atsumu Bokuto has a grip on his arm and is requesting a moment. Atsumu shoots him an encouraging smile while Sakusa, weirdly enough, watches them leave to another room with a wince.

“I always thought you knew about Tatsu and Aki so your reaction didn’t make sense,” Bokuto tells him after closing the sliding door to the balcony of his apartment. 

Suna blinks at him and nods, unsure of why the hairs on the back of his neck have shot up. 

“Kiyo was upset on Friday. Extremely upset.” Bokuto explains then explains, “But mostly because you interrupted us.” He smiles. “It didn’t matter if you had a problem with us— it definitely wouldn’t have mattered in the long run.”

Suna gets that. Bokuto and Sakusa are both incredible individuals. He doubts his opinion could ever get in the way of anything between them. He takes no offence to his words, even though there is now a tiny part inside Suna getting offended that so many people are willing to believe he is homophobic so easily.

“But it was still upsetting. You’re our teammate, after all. And Tsumu’s friend.” Bokuto continues. “So yeah, Kiyo was furious and well, you know how Tsumu and Omi get. We bumped into him on our way back to the dorms and Kiyo just blew up at him. He said things about you.” Bokuto pauses and then his eyes widen in realization. “He didn’t mean any of it!”

“Sure.”

Bokuto smiles at him sheepishly before Suna motions for him to continue. “So yeah, he said things— things that he didn’t mean— and then Tsumu got defensive. It escalated so quickly that I couldn’t voice how I thought it was all a misunderstanding.” Bokuto chuckles to himself before continuing. “Kiyo finally listened to me later that night after some major stress relief, and we even joked that maybe you were probably just jealous? Tsumu gets jealous a lot, so it made sense? We even joked you two should hook up to get over it.”

“Jealous?” Suna probes. 

“I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it,” Bokuto states, dismissing the question much to Suna’s annoyance. “But yeah, I guess what I’m trying to say is that it makes sense, you know. The two of you.”

Suna feels his heart skip a beat at the confession. “You and Sakusa make no sense.” He says because he feels blood rushing to his cheeks and he doesn’t think it’s fair that Bokuto is saying corny shit like this. 

“There is a lot of history between us,” Bokuto tells him with a grin, unbothered by Suna’s words. “We were pining idiots. Very obvious pining idiots. At least that's what everyone says.” He shakes his head fondly and focuses his eyes back on Suna, a mischievous look now on his face. “You know, you two were pretty obvious too. I can’t believe no one saw it coming.”

Suna smiles, a part of him believing Bokuto's words. “Same.” 

Bokuto chuckles again though this time his hand reaches over to pat Suna’s shoulder two times before it stays firmly put. “Suna.” Bokuto then says, the sudden strong grip on his shoulder sending a shiver down his spine. “Don’t hurt him, yeah?” Or I’ll hurt you goes unspoken but not unheard. 

Suna gulps and decides that he was wrong and that Sakusa and Bokuto make perfect fucking sense.

-o-

“I love you too,” Atsumu says later that night when they are standing by Atsumu’s door kissing each other to stall Suna from having to leave. “Just wanted to say it in case it wasn’t clear.” 

Suna kisses him, sucking on his bottom lip as he pulls Atsumu closer to him by the hold he has on his waist. 

“I’m crazy about ya,” Atsumu adds in between kisses. “Rin, you have no idea—“

Suna swallows up whatever else Atsumu was going to speak by deepening the kiss. He then pulls away and presses his forehead against Atsumu’s. “No.” 

“No?” Atsumu snorts, lifting his head so that their noses brush while their lips ghost close to each other. 

“I don’t want to hear it,” Suna says. “Whatever bullshit about you loving me— doesn’t matter. I love you.”

“What does that even—“

“You’re mine to love,” Suna tells him. “I’m not letting you take this away from me.”

“Rin,” Atsumu chuckles. “Ya ain’t makin’ sense.”

“I love you.” 

“Yes, and I love you—“

“This is my moment.” Suna huffs after cutting Atsumu off with another kiss. “Stop trying to take my spotlight.”

“Ya fucking ass, let me say my piece—“

Suna kisses him again but this time he angles his head to the side to push his tongue forward to finally silence Atsumu. He gets a moan for his efforts and then another one, and another one, and then Atsumu is a panting mess pressed against him.

Though, to be fair, Suna isn’t fairing much better. 

He feels breathless as he finds himself tasting more and more of Atsumu’s mouth until it's not enough to be kissing him, sucking his lips, licking the inside of his mouth— it’s not enough to just let his mouth explore and so Suna lets his hands roam. 

He lets himself feel Atsumu’s defined muscles over his skin while his other hand effortlessly works on getting rid of the clothing keeping him away from feeling Atsumu with every inch of his skin. 

“I have to get going,” Suna tells him in between kisses when Atsumu has stepped back far enough to be able to undo Suna’s pants and help him lift his shirt off.

“Yer gonna miss yer train,” Atsumu adds when he is pulling Suna towards his bedroom while Suna tries to kick his shoes off while making sure his lips never part too far from Atsumu, especially when he is talking. “Ya have practice tomorrow.”

“I quit,” Suna replies before pulling Atsumu closer by his hips and in the process managing to connect their groins that are now only covered by their underwear.

Suna knows Atsumu would berate him for saying something stupid like that and the only reason he doesn’t is that he is too busy moaning at the sudden friction.

“Rin,” he gasps, arching towards him before finally falling on his bed and taking Suna down with him. 

“Rin,” He calls again, their lips moving against each other before Suna can reply. So instead he grinds his hips downward and gets rewarded by hearing the vibration of Atsumu’s lewd reaction.

“Atsumu,” Suna says into his mouth, his hands now moving to touch both his ass and chest.

“Ya can’t go.” Atsumu then says suddenly. “I’ll kill ya if ya leave now.”

“I’m not going anywhere, you idiot,” Suna responds, the words barely out of his mouth before Atsumu is trying to devour him again. 

“Atsumu,” he then calls for him once they are both rock hard against each other and panting at the mere movement from their hips. “Can I?” He asks and Atsumu instantly agrees, unaware of what Suna is asking. 

Suna laughs at him and pulls away as Atsumu seems to think over the conversation. “Wait, what? Sunarin, come back, what—“ It’s Suna’s hand on Atsumu’s cock that silences him. He chokes back whatever words he was going to say as he arches his hips towards Suna’s touch.

“Let me taste you,” Suna tells him while already pulling down Atsumu’s underwear to keep it out of the way.

“Shitfuck, Rin!”

Suna does more than just taste him. He takes Atsumu completely inside his mouth, letting the tip of his cock touch the back of his throat even though it burns and Suna gags four times before getting it right. He then slurps and sucks and lets Atsumu grips his hair to pull and push him however he sees fit. 

He also lets Atsumu pull away just as he is about to reach his climax and the only reason Suna doesn’t complain is that shortly after Atsumu is touching Suna’s cock and tracing his balls while he tries to taste himself from Suna’s open mouth. Suna comes all over Atsumu’s stomach and it's not long until Atsumu’s orgasm is spilling all over the both of them as well. 

“I really can’t breathe around you.” Suna then tells him when their positions change and Atsumu is now straddling Suna’s waist, his cock semi-hard and resting below Suna’s belly button while Suna’s cock is fully hard pressed against Atsumu’s ass.

“That makes two of us.” Atsumu shoots back, leaning down to suck on Suna’s bottom lip before speaking again. “I love you.” Suna feels his heart about to explode. “I Love ya so much.”

“Fuck.” Suna chokes, his hands coming to rest on Atsumu’s thighs. “You can’t say shit like that.” He complains, his eyes blinking away the few tears that have gathered. “Atsumu, fuck.” Atsumu chuckles, his tongue now tracing Suna’s top lip. “I don’t deserve you,” Suna says, letting his mouth the words in an exaggerated matter to feel more of Atsumu’s lips.

Atsumu makes a strangled sound and pulls away. “Rin.”

“I know, I know—“

“You don’t.” Atsumu cuts him off. “Ya have no idea how much I think that, so yer not allowed to think that.”

Suna frowns and tightens his grip on Atsumu’s thighs in anger. “Atsumu, how could you—“

“Rin, I’ve tried to win yer affection for years.” Atsumu starts, ignoring Suna’s abuse of his thighs. “I’ve loved you in silence because I was sure ya didn’t feel anything more for me. I couldn’t tell anyone I— not even Samu.”

“You’re so fucking stupid—“

Atsumu grinds down and Suna instantly shuts up, his mouth closing with a click as he tries to keep inside the moan that formed from the way Atsumu’s ass rubbed against his cock.  

“Shut up. I’m not done!” Atsumu huffs and Suna tries to dig his nails on Atsumu’s thigh. In return, Atsumu pinches his nipple before continuing. “I didn’t tell anyone and I barely even let myself think about it. But then I came to Osaka and all I could see is how Bokkun and Omi were with each other, even before Omi joined us. It was so obvious to everyone but them.”

“Do you have to talk about fucking Omi when your ass is pressed against my dick?”

Atsumu pinches his nipple and glares. “As I was saying. Bokkun and Omi. Those two…  I took them as a blueprint. It’s not like we were out there being as obvious as them and it’s not like anyone thought anything more of our friendship but.” Atsumu stops and inhales. “But it felt so similar. Omi would always have time for Bokkun regardless of what he wanted and Bokkun would always just look for him? He would never stop bothering Omi-Omi. He just knew. He knew how to read him. They just fit.” Like us, Atsumu doesn’t say but Suna hears it clear.

“But maybe I was crazy. Maybe I was projecting. That’s what I’d tell myself. And then Omi comes storming inside my apartment freaking out and Bokkun appears shortly after and they both just wanted to talk to me? They looked so funny gawkin’ at each other— they even fought over me for like a minute before they just went out and said their feelings. I was technically the first person they told before Omi called his cousin and Bokkun called the entire student body of Fukurodani.”

Suna laughs, letting one of his hands leave Atsumu’s thigh in favour of reaching for his face. He cups his cheeks, enjoying the sight of Atsumu’s eyes softening as he melts at his touch. 

“I was happy for them,” Atsumu says fondly. “But I was also jealous. I wanted that. So badly.”

“Tsumu.” 

Atsumu puts one of his hands over Suna’s hand and sighs. “I almost convinced myself to confess then. But. Well, ya grew distant. Ya started replyin’ less, sharing less and then out of nowhere you’re posting on yer insta and the whole world is talking about you and I— I’m in my room thinkin’ about how ya used to make fun of Gin for posting thirst traps on his page every time he liked someone and I thought— who is it for? Who is he sendin’ this to? It’s not me.”

“Atsu—“

“Jeez, shuddap. Let a man talk.” Atsumu huffs, tilting his head to kiss Suna’s hand. “So yeah, yer posting half-naked pictures of yerself and yer ignorin’ me so I thought, I thought maybe I was wrong. Maybe we are nothin’ like Omi and Bokkun. Maybe I’m readin’ too much into it. So I tried givin’ ya some space, hopin’ ya would come to talk to me about whatever was going on eventually.”

Atsumu pauses, “But you didn’t.” He states and then pinches his nipple again but this time with much more added force. Suna yelps and instinctively claws at Atsumu’s thigh, getting a wince out of him.

“As I was saying. Ya didn’t talk to me for weeks and then you couldn’t even be near me after our matches and ya barely even looked at me.” Atsumu carries on, pressing a kiss on Suna’s palm again to keep the peace between them. “Ya kept dismissing me and that’s— you’ve never done that. And I realized how attached I’ve been. How dependent and. And I should stop yeah? Especially if there is someone there that yer sending pictures to.”

“I regret posting that fucking picture,” Suna says more to himself than to Atsumu.

“I like that picture.” Atsumu defends, eyebrows furrowed. “Was it for me?”

Suna smiles at him. “All of me.” He says. “All of me is yours, so yeah.”

“Yer so fuckin’ stupid—“ Atsumu blushes to the tip of his ears, removing the hand off his cheek and swatting it away. “Jeez, let me finish talkin’, fuck.”

“I’m listening,” Suna promises. 

Atsumu rolls his eyes before he focuses back on his words. “So yeah, I started thinking how maybe I lost my chance if I ever had one. So I thought… I thought that at least I could just tell you so that I don’t regret anythin’— maybe if I came clean things could stay normal? I don’t know. I just, I tried talkin’ about feelings with ya but. But ya shut me down?”

“You were talking about Kita’s feelings.” Suna weakly argues. 

“I was tryin’ to bring it up!” Atsumu rebukes. “But you, ya hung up on me! You— it hurt. It’s like I was losin’ ya and I didn’t even know why!”

“Tsumu—“

“I think,” Atsumu cuts him off, “I think that if I thought you were seeing anyone, a teammate— I, I would have probably reacted similarly.” He admits. “So I don’t blame ya, okay?” 

Suna’s hand is back on Atsumu’s cheek before he can swat it away. “You should,” Suna tells him as he moves to sit up, ignoring the way his cock presses even more against Atsumu’s ass. “I was an idiot. I don’t deserve you.”

Atsumu lets out a whine as he leans over to meet Suna’s lips. “It’s like ya weren’t fuckin’ listenin’ Sunarin!” He complains when they pull apart for some air. “I’m the one that doesn’t deserve—“ Suna pulls him back in for another kiss before he can finish that sentence. 

He kisses Atsumu with much more hunger and with an underlying desperate need to erase those insecurities away with his mouth. He doesn’t let Atsumu pull away to say any more words, partly because Suna doesn’t think he can handle hearing how much pain he has caused Atsumu during this entire time and also partly because there are better things Suna has planned for Atsumu’s mouth. 

Right now, having Atsumu pant against his open lips is already a better alternative. Having him desperately mouth at Suna’s neck is also a delightful experience. Though nothing compares to the way Atsumu’s mouth opens when he says Suna’s name in a moment of pure bliss, when Suna has three fingers working Atsumu open.

“Rintarou,” Atsumu cries out, his eyes clouded with lust while his hands grip Suna’s body with open desire.

“I’m all yours baby,” Suna tells him and Atsumu preens at those words. 

“‘M yours too.” He says, his face pressed against Suna’s neck as he tries to keep himself in the position Suna wants him for when he is aligning his cock at Atsumu’s entrance.

“I love you,” Suna tells him over and over again long before Atsumu is sinking down his length, his head falling back in pleasure. “I love you.” He repeats while Atsumu tries to keep a steady pace in riding him. Suna can’t even attempt to meet his movements because he is afraid to come before he can pleasure Atsumu the way he deserves. 

“Love ya,” Atsumu also says when he starts slowing down and clenching around Suna’s length just because he is a little shit. “Yer stupid but I love ya.”

When they come, they do so together and as Suna fills Atsumu and Atsumu spills all over their stomachs, their mouths stay connected. Their words proclaiming their love are more or less muffled by movements of their lips. 

“Ya know, Aran’s wedding was hell.” 

“Now you want to talk about Aran when my dick is still up your ass?”

“Then remove it.” Atsumu snaps before continuing. “Hell. Absolute hell. Ya were acting weird but ya kept tellin’ everyone you were fine. And I couldn’t even look at you because I was already cryin’ ‘bout weddings all week, ‘bout feeling so alone sometimes,  and I just knew that looking at you… I wouldn't be able to get the picture out of my head.”

Suna lets his head fall forward to rest on Atsumu. Every word he hears afterwards, he also feels vibrate from Atsumu’s chest. “Omi and Bokkun tried to distract me the entire night. They knew I liked someone, just not who. I’m sure they figured it out somehow, even before we told them— ya saw their faces, yeah? Those fuckers weren’t even surprised.”

“Yeah, fuck Sakusa.”

“Ew.” Atsumu groans. “Don’t say gross shit when your dick is up my ass.”

“Atsumu.”

“So yeah, Aran’s hellish wedding.” Atsumu starts again. “I was miserable and there ya were, dancing with some woman. And then, then she is kissing you! Ohmygod, I almost forgot! Ya fuckin cheater—“

“I didn’t consent to that kiss.”

“Oh,” Atsumu says. “I’m sorry that happened then. So yeah, ya see what I’m sayin’? You’ve always been so out of my reach, Rin.” Atsumu pauses to breathe in. Then he leans backwards which causes Suna to lift his head from his chest. 

Atsumu grabs his face with both his hands and presses their foreheads together as they make eye contact. “I don’t want you to be my best man, Rin,” Atsumu admits, closing his eyes for a moment while Suna feels those words steal all his oxygen from him. “I want ya to be my groom.”

The confession leaves Atsumu’s mouth and then floats in the air around them before Suna finds the strength to start his heart again. 

“Yes,” Suna replies, the word leaving his mouth almost like a sigh. “Yes.”

Atsumu leans back and drops his hands. “That wasn’t a proposal.” He deadpans. 

“I don’t care,” Suna tells him, now taking the chance to cup Atsumu’s face. “I’m yours. I’ll be anything you want me to be.” Atsumu laughs and Suna smiles in return, leaning over to steal a kiss from his lips before going back to rest his face against Atsumu’s chest, content in now trying to listen to his heartbeat.

 “Look at me,” Atsumu says after a moment. He shifts his hip and Suna bites his lips to stop whatever desperate sound was ready to leave his mouth as he is reminded that he is still very much inside Atsumu. “Sunarin, never stop looking my way.”

Suna snorts as he lifts his gaze and lets his eyes melt under the warmth of Atsumu’s gaze. “If that’s your only request, I hope you know it’s going to be a piece of cake.”

Atsumu rolls his eyes. “What’s your request then?”

“Don’t forget that I loved you first.”

Atsumu’s eyebrows furrow. “Is this a competition?”

“Mhm,” Suna replies. “And I won.”