Chapter Text
Atsumu is, once more, being annoying. Then again, when isn’t he? Rintarou knows he should already be used to it, it’s been almost two years of being in the same team with this foul-mouthed asshole but still.
Sighing, he rolls his shoulders and stares a hole at the floor, questioning all his life choices, all the mistakes he must have made to end up here; all the sins he must have committed in his past lives to end up chained to the most annoying setter Japan has to offer.
Maybe he can still switch universities? Or drop off. That’s also good, moreover with all the exams that are incoming in three, two—
“Cheer up, Suna!”
A heavy slap on his back makes him huff. Glaring at Komori, he rolls his eyes, making the bubbly libero laugh like the gremlin he is, enjoying Rintarou’s suffering. And to suffering he keeps being exposed, as Atsumu won’t shut up, won’t stop screaming to anyone unwilling to listen about this hot guy that he managed to score in a party last whenever; about how an amazing kisser he is and how the guy asked him to keep going…
“I’m going to puke,” he mumbles.
“Please, not here. And ditto.” Glancing to his right, he sees he’s not the only one being miserable in the court and well, misery loves company and all that.
Sliding closer to Sakusa, he points with his jaw at Atsumu. “If you give me a solid alibi I can make it look like it was an accident.”
Sakusa almost smiles and he seems to consider it before his eyes fall on his cousin who is bouncing around. “We’ll need to distract him first. Motoya has a strict no-murder policy, I’m afraid.”
“Damn. What a pity.”
“Indeed.”
If there is one good thing that has come out of having to endure Miya Atsumu is that Rintarou has got a nice-tentative-almost-friendship with Sakusa.
Atsumu’s awful personality made them bond not even twenty minutes after their first practice last year. It’s not as if they meet outside of volleyball, but last year they shared a class and it was nice to have someone to partner with for group projects and to exchange notes and questions about certain topics. Rintarou after all likes to cut corners, he’s low-key lazy at best, downright lazy with stuff he doesn’t care about, and Literature 101? Yeah, no way he was going to spend his free time asking the teacher or any of the TAs about his doubts. Sakusa is also bad with literature but between the two of them, they managed to scratch a passing grade and that’s everything Rintarou needed and wanted.
“And then what Tsum-Tsum? Are you two dating?!”
Rintarou wants to throttle Bokuto… and from the aura incoming from Sakusa, he’s not the only one. Ugh. As always, Atsumu goes on a tirade with some lame-ass excuses about how they are not and blah, blah, blah.
Always the same shit.
“So the guy was just drunk,” he says, interrupting him.
Atsumu stops talking and, blinking, glances at him.
“What was that Sunarin?”
Rintarou feels his eye almost twitching. That awful nickname. Double ugh. Yet, he manages to keep his expression impassive, not giving away how much he loathes it. He knows that if Atsumu knows, it’s going to be his end and thanks, but no thanks.
“I said the guy must have been drunk and out of his mind to hook up with you. He recovered his senses, saw who you were and run up the hills. Good for him.”
Sakusa snorts and before Atsumu can rebut, he adds. “You’re trash, Miya. And this is training. If you want to talk so badly about your sex life, do it somewhere else.”
“YER TRASH! The two of ya are the fuckin’ worst! I ain’t setting for either of ya anymore.”
“I’m a middle blocker,” he deadpans.
Sakusa smirks with viciousness. “Good, I’ll ask Ta—”
Seeing red, Atsumu looks truly mad at Sakusa as he barks, “don’tcha dare to even finish that sentence!”
Rintarou has to bite his lip to keep his expression blank. Ouch, Sakusa is truly mean. Atsumu loathes with the passion of a blazing sun the other setters in the team. It doesn’t matter that he’s a starter already, it doesn’t matter that their coach wants the reserves to practice with the team just in case (“Atsumu, what if you get injured? We might be just a college-level team, we’re not pro, yes, but if you want to become one, you need to learn that teamwork also means other setters”).
Atsumu doesn’t share. He’s stubborn and he’s like a rabid animal: he won’t allow other setters to step on his zone. And that includes ‘his spikers’.
“We are in training,” Sakusa states. “And you just said you won’t set to me. What else am I supposed to do?”
Observing Atsumu, watching how his resolution seems to crumble bit by bit as his mind tries in vain to keep his tantrum and stubbornness together, is a delight. He adores this and is one of the reasons why he might consider Sakusa a friend or an almost one.
In the end, Atsumu huffs dramatically and glares at them but there you go: practice resumes, just like everyone in the team wanted. His hands are burning by the end of it (just like he likes it) and as he heads towards the locker room, he grimaces as he hears right behind him Bokuto and Atsumu talking once more about Atsumu’s sexual escapades.
Washio gives him a look that silently asks him if he’s doing okay, to which Rintarou answers with a gun to his head before he rushes towards the showers. He sees Sakusa is already there and choosing a stall that is two away from the man, he starts to enjoy the warm water soothing his aching muscles.
Head bowed, he simply stays under the pressurised water, eyes closed as he can feel the knots in his back disappearing. He wants a magical shower like this in his dorm.
He’s almost done lathering his body when Atsumu steps into the showers and surprise, surprise, he’s still running his mouth.
“I’m telling ya Bokkun, the best way to get yerself a man is to act distant.”
“But isn’t that the opposite of what I want? I don’t know Tsum-Tsum, I don’t think I can just ignore ‘kaashi.”
“Then you seem desperate. And that’s the last thing ya want.”
Rintarou almost slams his head against the tiled wall and for a second, he contemplates the idea of just ignoring them, of finishing his shower and pretend he hasn’t heard anything… but, if Bokuto actually follows Atsumu’s trashy advice and messes up his relationship with his former setter and long time crush, he’ll get moody and it’ll become a living hell for everyone in the team. He likes to see chaos unfolding… but he hates it when it involves him directly and this might splash him, so he decides to butt in.
“Don’t listen to him, Bokuto.” Cutting off the water, he wraps a towel around his waist and steps outside. The two men are not too far away and Bokuto is looking at him with rapt attention, drinking up Rintarou’s words. Atsumu on the other hand looks bothered. He decides to ignore him, simply focusing on the bulky spiker. “Bokuto, I’ll only say this once and deny this conversation has even happened, alright?” The man nods vigorously. “You don’t have to do anything with Akaashi. Just ask him out. He likes you. And please, under no circumstances don’t ever ask him for love advice.”
“HEY!”
“That’s harsh to Tsum-Tsum, Sunarin.”
Rintarou’s eye finally twitches. If he hates the nickname, he despises even more how it has spread like the plague.
He sees Atsumu smirking but before he can say or do anything else, he snaps. “Bokuto, when has Atsumu actually managed to have a relationship? Sex? Plenty. Or at least, so he claims. Relationships? None. So please, stop asking the least indicated person for that kind of advice.”
Atsumu starts to protest again. His face is red and he menacingly storms towards him but Bokuto’s words actually make him freeze and stare at his friends with betrayal and almost hurt in his eyes.
“You’re right Suna! Sorry, Tsum-Tsum but he’s right. You’ve never dated anyone, have you?”
“I HAVE!”
“Oh? Do tell.” He says it in a way that clearly shows that he’s not interested. Like at all.
“I HAVE!” Atsumu repeats. Glaring at Rintarou, he smirks and puffs his chest out as he proudly announces, “I once dated a guy for almost a month. Take that!”
Rintarou manages to keep it for almost three seconds. A whole record in itself… just like Atsumu’s dating life.
Crackling loudly, he has to wipe the tears out of his eyes. It’s hard to talk between crackles but looking at Bokuto, he manages to say, “see? Trust me, just ask Akaashi out. He likes you already.”
“OI! What are ya laughing at, Sunarin?”
The way Atsumu empathises that awful nickname makes Rintarou’s skin crawl, cutting once and for all his laughter.
Straightening himself, he gives Atsumu his best shit-eating half-smile and taunts him. “Three weeks? And you even look proud about it. I must admit I’m impressed you managed to find someone who could tolerate you for more than a couple of hours, but please.”
Once more, something flashes across Atsumu’s eyes and for a second, Rintarou could have sworn it was hurt, pain even, but it’s gone as soon as it came and c’mon, this is Atsumu. Atsumu doesn’t have feelings beyond being a selfish and narcissistic asshole that won’t shut the fuck up. He has claimed more than once that he doesn’t care what other ‘scrubs’ might think about him.
“What about ya, Sunarin? Since ya talk so much, ya must have a lot of experience, huh?”
Atsumu steps even closer to the point their chests almost collide. He has his head tilted back in order to dead-stare in the eye at Rintarou, who is slightly taller than him.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He purrs mockingly.
Atsumu makes a grimace that is a mixture between his trademark smirk and an annoyed look. He looks ridiculous.
Feeling too fed up with this whole situation, he leaves the showers with Atsumu yelling at his back, calling him a virgin and a coward.
“As if,” he mumbles before leaving the room. A painful stab and something dark curls in his chest. Shaking his head, he tries to push it all into the back of his mind. Repress, repress, repress.
Sakusa quirks a brow at that but Rintarou simply moves to his locker, ignoring him. He gets dressed in haste and leaves the locker room throwing over his shoulder a half-baked excuse about having to do homework when Komori and Kuroo try to drag him into another team outing.
He does have work but no intention of doing any of it. As he’s reaching the door, Sakusa’s voice stops him.
“Suna, if you’re heading towards the library I’ll come with you. I’ve some work I must finish as well.”
In the end, he does end up working on his homework. Sakusa might have used him as an easy excuse to tap out of his cousin’s gathering idea, but he’s a good influence, Rintarou can at least admit that. It’s not as if he uses all the time they’re in the library to only study but his work is done by the time they leave.
He’s approving some posts that were waiting for his moderation in one of the forums he’s involved with when Sakusa calls for his attention.
“Suna, I was wondering if you have any plans for the weekend.”
“Nope.”
“Motoya wants to throw a party.”
That makes him stop. Fingers frozen over his keyboard, he stares at Sakusa with a mixture of surprise and confusion. “And you’re okay with that?”
“No, but it’s Motoya.”
“Yeah, Komori is… Komori.”
“Indeed.”
Rintarou mulls it as they resume walking. Ultimately, he can only see two outcomes as to why Sakusa has brought this up. “You want me to go or do you need shelter?”
“Yes, please.”
The way Sakusa sounds so relieved makes him snort and shaking his head, he asks him, “which one is it, dude?”
“Either.”
“Huh. You know, I don’t really hate parties that much. They just drain me depending on who’s invited—”
“Miya will go.”
He doesn’t even hesitate. “My place?”
“… is it clean?”
Rolling his eyes, Rintarou sighs. “I’ll clean and you’re free to do it again if you want.”
Sakusa nods. “I’ll bring my cleaning supplies then.”
Okay, well, maybe he should invite Sakusa more often or make a habit out of it if it means free cleaning.
“Do you have a roommate?”
“Nope. I managed to get a single… but.”
“But?”
“… Atsumu lives like five doors away from me. I know, trust me, I know.”
Sakusa’s eyes crinkle in a way that gives away he’s grimacing under his mask. He seems to be thinking about it before nodding. “I’d rather expose myself to passing him by in the hallway when I go to your place, rather than having to withstand him drunk.”
“And flirting. He’s surely going to be insufferable next Monday. Lord, have mercy on us.”
His comment is welcomed with almost twenty minutes of bantering and dissing the man in question before Sakusa and him part ways, each one heading towards their own place.
Yes, thanks to Miya Atsumu’s awful personality, Suna Rintarou might have earned a tentative friend. His first one.
The week goes by and so does the weekend. Just as expected, Sakusa leaves Rintarou’s room pristine, shining even. Both enjoy the quietness, so it’s not exactly exciting but it’s enjoyable nevertheless. Turns out Sakusa likes video games and is borderline almost professional with them. Rintarou learns a lot about tactical games and co-ops. Sakusa kicks his ass in the first rounds but by the end of the night, he’s kicking ass along with the man —Sakusa is still the leader on the scoreboard by a wide margin but he manages to make it to the top 5.
He has had fun and by mutual silent agreement, Sakusa will come back next week.
Monday is just what Rintarou expected: everybody is talking about Komori’s party and Atsumu has hooked up with some random and is now boasting about it.
“Ugh.”
“I know.”
“Disgusting.”
“Vomitive.”
Komori stops his and Sakusa’s bitching with a huge grin.
“What about you two? Kiyoomi was almost smiling when he returned.”
Before either can reply, Atsumu like the donkey he is, butts in uninvited. “Oh, did you two fuck?”
Sakusa gags and Rintarou shivers. Both share a look of pure disgust before snapping a chorus of noes.
“Not everybody thinks with their dick, Miya.”
“Pssssh, I should’ve known. Ya two are prudes and I didn’t hear any noise complaints from our neighbours, Sunarin.”
“Please, stop reminding me that we share a hall,” he deadpans. Then he looks at Sakusa and his eyes fall on Washio who is passing by. “Hey Washio, want to team up with me and Sakusa? We can practice blocking. I’ll even be the one tossing first.”
Washio nods easily. “Of course.”
“Oi! Don’t ignore me. And I can toss for ya. I’m the setter after all.”
“Pass.” Both, he and Sakusa chorus.
Komori laughs. “Would you look at that! You two are actually friends after all. You know, when Kiyo told me he was hanging with you, I thought it was just an excuse but I see it’s not. Take good care of my cuz, alright?”
Rintarou blinks at that. “Sure.”
“Motoya…” Sakusa sighs annoyed.
Atsumu starts to say something but Rintarou leaves the main court, heading towards one of the sides with Washio and Sakusa trailing after him. Today’s training ends up being one of his favourites, especially when Komori joins their little team along with Kuroo and Konoha. They do a three vs three that makes him sweat buckets but it’s worth it, it’s really worth it when his team ends up winning. He high-fives Washio and nods at Sakusa, who nods back in acknowledgement.
Everything is perfect or going like that until their coach calls the whole team for a mini-meeting to discuss their next match against another university.
“As you know, one of our rivals is Ushijima and another one to take into account is Ojiro. Both are powerful spikers and their setter is Oikawa—”
“I’m better than him!” Atsumu interrupts and Rintarou knows what he’s going to say next. “And I’ve known Aran-kun for years, trust me to guide ya. We’ll beat them.”
Bingo. Rolling his eyes, he clicks his tongue and hopes their coach will let it go and wrap up the meeting soon. The shower is calling him and his teammates stink.
“… as I was saying —Atsumu stay afterwards so we can talk—, I’ve made a training program with our next match in mind. We’ll start with it on Wednesday, tomorrow you can keep honing your skills freely as long as it’s something useful. By the way, nice work to you six. Your three vs three was impressive.” Rintarou nods along with his teammates and sees Atsumu frowning from the corner of his eye. “That’s it. You can leave. Not you Atsumu, come here. How many times do I’ve to tell you that you shouldn’t interrupt me when I’m—”
Rintarou leaves with a little smile. Atsumu being scolded is always a win in his book and boy, does he always get an earful from the coach —not that it does anything, but still.
As he’s picking up his shower stuff, Bokuto approaches him.
“Maaaaan, I wish I had joined your little match. Waaaaaashio, why didn’t you tell me? And you too Konoha!”
“We’re not your babysitters, Bo.” Konoha dismisses.
Washio simply heads towards the shower. Bokuto pouts and Komori steps in.
“Tomorrow we can hold a four vs four or something.”
“YES! I’ll tell Tsum-Tsum. He was really bummed to be left out as well.”
“NO!” Sakusa says it before Rintarou can, but his face easily says that much.
Bokuto blinks and frowns. “Why not?”
Rintarou sees Sakusa fidgeting and he knows it’s not because he’s embarrassed to speak his mind up, but rather because he’s sweaty, Bokuto is sweaty, and the shower is right there. He makes a dismissive hand gesture to him and Sakusa nods with something akin to relief and happiness before he pretty much speeds into his beloved shower. Rintarou snorts and then faces Bokuto.
“I’ve no issue with you joining us. Heck, I don’t care if Atsumu does too as long as he keeps his mouth shut but that’s the thing, isn’t it? Unless it’s a match, he can’t.”
Bokuto seems bummed out. “Tsum-Tsum isn’t that bad. I know he’s… harsh but—”
Rintarou snorts. “I don’t give a fuck about that. He’s a dick. Whatever. I don’t care. But I’d rather not puke while training. And Atsumu talking about his hookups? That’s vomit-inducing. Cut it off you two with his sex escapades and lack of romantic life.”
“Are ya that jealous, Sunarin? Ya wish ya could get a piece of this? Mmh it’s a pity, but I’m afraid I’ve standards. Sorry, but maybe if I’m drunk and it’s dark…”
He doesn’t need to face the man to know his expression is as petulant as his voice tone.
“You got me,” he deadpans. Giving Bokuto a pointed look that implies: see what I mean? He grabs his things and heads towards the shower.
Of course, the universe doesn’t give him a break as Atsumu deliberately chooses the stall next to his as Konoha leaves right when he enters. Then, since Bokuto is several stalls away from him, he seems to resume the narration of his weekend in the loudest and most obnoxious way he can.
“Where was I Bokkun? Oh yeah, his dick game was below average. One of the worst ones up until now. Definitely not going to call him anytime soon.”
Rintarou almost slams his head against the wall as he mumbles, “just kill me now.”
Atsumu doesn’t hear him or simply ignores him as he keeps going. “Like seriously, there was a point when I even asked him if it was already in because… well. And his rhythm! Awful. I’m telling ya, I’m not calling him. He insisted though. Said he wanted to meet up again and get to know me and—”
He can’t help it, he huffs at that. “Sure.”
Now it seems Atsumu has heard him. “What was that Sunarin?”
Rintarou feels like déjà vu. “I said sure. I bet he just left you once he was done. Or after you opened your mouth and spilled your crap.”
Several seconds of tense silence pass by. For a brief instant, he wonders if Atsumu has drowned in the shower or something along those lines might have happened as it’s kind of out of character for the man to not yell something back, telling him to piss off or go on a diatribe about how wonderful he is.
“Ha!” He says at last. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on ya, Sunarin. Why is it that yer always so invested in my life?”
“Trust me, I couldn’t care less.” With that, he leaves.
He makes a brief detour to a coffee shop as he needs to finish a project whose due date is tomorrow and resumes his journey towards his dorm building. Unfortunately, his peace is shattered as Atsumu calls after him.
He wished he had brought along his Air Pods but alas, today from all days he has left them charging in his room. He tries to ignore Atsumu, pretending he hasn’t heard him, but the man simply jogs until he reaches him.
“Sunarin! Ya need to cheek yer hearin’.”
“… and you need to learn to read the room.”
“Mmh. Oh, I see, I see. Ya have some deadlines to meet, huh? What was your major again?”
“I never said.” He has, but never to Atsumu. Their relationship is strictly professional and limited to the court. That’s it.
Just ten minutes after meeting him Rintarou knew he and Atsumu could never be anything else beyond setter and middle blocker.
Atsumu hums. “I also have a project I need to finish. My partner is a scrub, ya know? Fucker hasn’t done anythin’ and I want to keep my grades up, that means I’ve ta—”
“What do you want?” He cuts him.
“Huh? Watcha mean?”
Pointing at himself and then at Atsumu, who is looking at his phone, he states. “We’re not friends. Why are you acting as if… is that Tinder?”
In the span of a second, Atsumu’s face goes from surprised to annoyed to embarrassed. Locking his phone, he denies it. “Nope. Of course not.”
Rintarou blinks and a mischievous grin spreads across his face. “Huh. I thought you had men throwing themselves at your feet, that you had to fight tooth and nail to leave parties because all these men, begging you to not leave them behind… so say, why are you on a dating app? Or well, a hooking-up one? And why Tinder? Isn’t Grindr better for gay?”
“There are more users here,” he replies and promptly shuts up, grimacing at his slip. Then he seems to reset back to his cocky default mode. “I just like ta have options, ya know? Or well… maybe ya don’t, since you've no game.”
Any momentary consideration Rintarou might have had towards him vanishes.
“Sure. Maybe you should do an online test to check if you’re a nymphomaniac or something.”
“Isn’t that just for women?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, but hey, I’m not the one who’s looking to get dicked down daily.”
“I don’t want that!” Atsumu hisses. “I mean, yeah, most people here only look for that but this is a datin’ app after all.”
“So you are looking for a date?” He teases him. “Try Craigslist. You’ll get better results.”
Atsumu frowns. “But that… isn’t that an American classified advertisements place?”
“Yeah. But all kinds of freaks post there nowadays, including psychopaths and crackheads and hey, if they can, why won’t you?”
Feeling the weight of Atsumu’s glare on him, Rintarou keeps walking.
“Yer a dick. Can’t believe ya complain about me when yer even worst.”
“No,” he says taking a sip of his coffee. “I never said— Okay, yeah I’ve but today precisely I told Bokuto that I don’t care about that. You can be a dick, I don’t care about that. You’re a shithead, whatever, but what I don’t want is to hear your bullshit during training. I’m not here to be friends with you. I’m here to stop the ball from scoring a point and spiking your sets whenever it’s necessary. That’s it.”
“Fine,” Atsumu curly says and huffing, he starts to walk ahead but unfortunately his diva escapade is short-lived as they’ve reached their dorm entrance and would you believe it, it seems Atsumu can’t find his ID to access it. “Fuck! Where have I—?”
Rintarou keeps sipping his coffee before he waves his own card. Atsumu narrows his eyes and clicks his tongue before stepping away from the ID reader. As he swipes it, he considers for a glorious moment hurrying inside and closing the door on Atsumu’s dumb face but he decides not to do it as it’s kind of late and their gym is far away. For today, he’ll have mercy on his stupid setter. Even if he doesn’t deserve it.
“Love guru,” he still says mockingly, opening the door for Atsumu.
Atsumu’s face reddens a little bit more before his jaw sets and huffing, he storms inside. Rather than take the elevator, Atsumu runs towards the stairs and Rintarou goes after him, stopping at the door before he yells upstairs, “good luck finding a date tonight! Don’t worry too much if you get swiped left… you can always catfish some poor bastard!”
“FUCK YA SUNA! I hope ya fail yer project!”
Snickering, he goes back to the hall and sees with happiness that the elevator is already there, waiting for him. He steps in and crackles again as Atsumu’s last words echo in his brain. It’s so, so easy to rile him up. That might be one of his few redeeming qualities actually.
Saturday afternoons/nights with Sakusa become a thing. He and Komori share an apartment off-campus that is around ten minutes walk away, which means that it’s perfect and becomes their team’s official party holding place for the foreseeable future.
Every Friday Komori invites him to join them and every time without fail, he only needs to glance at Sakusa before he’s declining his offer, to the point he doesn’t even need to look at the other man to do so.
He no longer considers Sakusa an almost friend, or a tentative one: he’s just a friend.
Sakusa is quiet, blunt and honest. He cleans Rintarou’s room meticulously for free, leaves no mess behind and is teaching him the art of fucking up with thirteen-year-olds online by leaving their asses in the dust in the most popular games of today.
“Oh my. Did you just hear that screech?”
“I did.”
Rintarou falls back, head hitting his floor as he laughs. He has just killed with a perfect headshot the remaining player on the battle royale and man, what a sore loser. Sakusa got eliminated earlier by an ill-placed grenade and Rintarou was too far away to aid him, yet here they are, winning the duos battle.
“Another round?”
“Sure. But first I need to use the bathroom.”
Rintarou nods and crawls towards his bed, seeking his phone while Sakusa grabs some cleaning utilities and heads towards the common bathroom at the end of the hall. He knows he has at least ten minutes before he comes back as Sakusa first needs to sterilise the stall he’s going to use before setting his foot even inside. Not that he blames him, Rintarou isn’t picky and even he has found himself wondering what kind of rabid animals he shares a hall with because lord.
Scrolling through Twitter, he doesn’t see anything interesting so he switches apps and ends up on Instagram. His teammates’ stories seem to be on fire and as he clicks on the first one, he sees Kuroo dancing with Bokuto as they take some pre-party shoots. He recognises Akaashi in the background imploring them to ‘slow it down, Bokuto-san. Kuroo-san please, stop egging him’. And then the loud music from the party blasts through his speakers. He lowers his phone volume and snorts as he sees Bokuto being all over his Akaashi, calling him pretty and handsome. He’s completely drunk and as the videos go on, so seems to be Kuroo as the quality of the videos gets worse and worse.
The rest of the stories depict the same. It seems everybody is at Komori’s party and a part of him wonders if maybe he should go to at least one. He doesn’t care about crowds but he doesn’t really care about partying either. He’s fine just hanging out with Sakusa and as he clicks on the next story, his nose scrunches up as he sees the reason number one why he hasn’t gone to a single one: Atsumu is making out with someone in the middle of the dance floor.
It’s disgusting; so, so gross he gags. He taps on the story and the next one as it seems someone has decided to be a pervert and record Atsumu and his… conquest of the night for a really long time. Ugh.
Turning off his phone, he decides to start a solo match while he waits for Sakusa, brooding as he knows tomorrow Atsumu is going to be insufferable, boasting about tonight’s hookup and that’s just—
Sakusa comes back just as he’s blowing a couple of guys that go through the front door of a building he has covered with sticky mines.
“Nice.”
“Thanks.”
When he dies, Sakusa joins him and they dive into another duo battle before they switch games giving it a try to a new indie horror game Sakusa bought last Wednesday.
“When I die, you take the controller.”
“Sure.”
Yes, their friendship is nice and neat. He likes it.
It is said that for every good thing there is a bad one. His nice weekend, the almost perfect score he has got back from his latest photography project… they all weigh him down as their coach announces that today, they’re going to work in pairs. As the names start to get called out and the crowd starts to thin, Rintarou realises with belated horror that neither he nor Atsumu have been called out yet.
Sharing a pained look with Sakusa, he grimaces when Bokuto gets called and then Sakusa. Then Konoha and Taishi and then…
“Miya and Suna.”
Fuck.
“Looks like it’s ya and me, Sunarin.”
“I apologise to any deities I might have offended lately,” he mumbles as he drags his feet towards his… partner.
He’s almost expecting the coach to yell, sike! Suna you’re with Sakusa. Or any other name, really.
It doesn’t happen.
Atsumu starts to babble and Rintarou tunes him out. Their first exercise is a pepper drill and of course, Atsumu becomes competitive from 0 to 100 the second he sees Taishi, their reserve setter, setting the ball to Konoha right next to them. Konoha compliments him because Konoha is actually nice to anyone who isn’t Bokuto —and he only does that because they’ve been friends for almost six years— but Atsumu, with his absolute monkey brain, takes it as a direct strike to his ego and starts to overdo it.
An easy exercise becomes a nightmare and as the coach calls the next one, Rintarou is already sweating and regretting all his life choices that have led him up to this moment.
The toss catch doesn’t go any better either. In theory, the one bumping the ball has to stay put. In theory, this is an exercise to improve one’s tossing and catching. In theory, Rintarou should easily bump Atsumu’s toss and then patiently wait for Atsumu to catch the ball and toss it back.
It’s not.
Atsumu throws the ball at him viciously, calling him out, calling him lazy.
When they switch, Rintarou takes revenge.
His tosses become on par with Bokuto’s and the loud thud of the ball hitting Atsumu’s arms makes him grin in a dark way that he knows is making him look like a sadist… and maybe he is, but only if the one in pain is this fake-blond menace than more than deserves to suffer.
Atsumu’s eyes are on fire as the coach calls the end of the exercise and the next one begins. Atsumu is finally quiet but he keeps throwing the ball relentlessly. Rintarou can already feel the bruises blooming on his skin but he ignores them as he observes with delight how Atsumu’s body seems to also be as red as his, especially his forearms.
Their servicing practice goes even worse. When it’s Atsumu’s turn to service and Rintarou’s to save the ball, he’s absolutely unhappy about how many times he has to dive and eat the wooden floors to stop Atsumu from smirking, proud and cocky of scoring another no-touch service ace, or so he claims.
“Dumbass, there’s only me receiving it.”
“So what? Yer just usin’ lame excuses, Sunarin.”
The taunt under other circumstances would have no effect on him but at the moment, with his body aching beyond recognition, it strikes a nerve in him. When the whistle blows and it becomes his turn to serve… Rintarou pours all his energy into humiliating Atsumu and no matter how much his body protests, no matter how on fire his hands feel, he keeps serving. His grin becomes sharper and sharper as their teammates whisper in wonder about Rintarou mopping the floor with Atsumu.
Atsumu seems half annoyed, half proud of that, and as they keep going on, so does their competition. Rintarou usually doesn’t give his all during training… but today he does, because there is no way he could not try his best to erase that cocky grin from Atsumu’s insufferable face.
“Hey.”
Taking a long sip of his water, Rintarou glances at Sakusa who seems to be observing him.
“Hey.”
“Miya seems to have riled you up today. More than usual, I mean.”
Catching his breath, he wipes his mouth and then his face with the back of his hand, making Sakusa grimace and take a step back.
“Yeah, well, he’s an asshole and he started it.”
“I see. But usually, you just let him. You don’t engage. And we both know he hates it when you ignore him.”
Startled, he realises his friend is right. Usually, Atsumu’s antics annoy the heck out of him but he never responds to them. If they are running and Atsumu passes him by, trying to bait him, Rintarou throws a cutting snark calling him out and keeps running at his pace; if Atsumu taunts him with his serving skills… Rintarou just stands there and deadpans something like, ‘wow, you’re so incredible. You’ve beaten a one army man. So, soooo cool.’
It usually works, making Atsumu frown and yell something half-baked back at him before he becomes flustered or annoyed and goes to pest someone else.
But not today.
Today, Rintarou has walked into Atsumu’s game. He has fallen for his tricks and has engaged right back.
Oh fuck.
And, oh fuck indeed when Atsumu jogs towards where they are and grins merrily, bouncing on his feet as he calls for him.
“C’mon Sunarin, break’s over. We need to keep up! We can’t let Taishi and Konoha beat us.”
“Beat us,” he repeats dryly.
Atsumu nods enthusiastically. For a second, Rintarou is kind of thrown off as Atsumu… he looks kind of like a kid: eyes wide open, a matching grin that has no hidden sneer or venom, hair wrecked from the exercise and wet from the sweat, red cheeks from the effort… One could even say he looks cute, attractive even.
The thought hits Rintarou almost as hard as a freight train and feeling nauseous and disappointed with himself, he denies it immediately.
Atsumu and cute in the same sentence? Fuck no. I’m delirious. Clearly, so much exercise has fried my brain. Sakusa is right: I only need to chill the fuck off and go back to ignore him. It’s better that way and—
His chain of thoughts is cut off neatly when Atsumu grabs him by his wrist and starts to drag him across the court, right back to their spot.
He feels a buzz in his ears and when Atsumu releases him, Rintarou still feels his touch almost as if it had burnt him with incandescent iron. His skin tingles and blinking, he observes the other man who is alien to the turmoil he has caused. When their coach announces their next drill, he tries to become despondent and it almost works.
Atsumu pouts and starts to tease him. “What’s wrong Sunarin? Are yer batteries dead already? Are ya like this in bed too? Wow, no wonder ya never have anyone.”
Rintarou smirks. “I love how interested you always seem to be in my sex life. Always asking, always wondering. Your dates still falling through?”
He knows he has hit a nerve when Atsumu clenches his teeth and his next toss hits him viciously in the stomach.
“Oops, sorry. My bad. Let’s repeat it.”
“Nah, it’s fine. Let’s switch.”
“Coach hasn’t—”
The ball would have hit his face if Atsumu didn’t have his reflexes. When he glares at him, Rintarou can’t avoid but grin back at him.
“Oops, sorry. My bad.”
“Yer a shithead!”
“Don’t worry, you’re still our number one, dick boy. No one could ever take your spot as the number one jerk.”
It’s war after that. The ball becomes a projectile and by the end of it, he’s sure that his arms are going to fall off. Shaking, he tries to drink more water as he heads towards the locker room but Bokuto smacks him in the back, making him choke.
“My, my Sunarin! That was awesome! I’ve never seen you move like that. And your serves? IMPRESSIVE! You were like kaboom! And fiuuuuum!”
Expressionless, he observes how Bokuto moves all around him, making weird sounds as he recreates (supposedly) how Rintarou has served today. His head is spinning as he tries to keep up with him but after a minute, his patience runs out and he moves on, leaving Bokuto in the dust while the man calls for him.
“SUUUUNAAAA! Wait. I think tomorrow we should partner up!”
“No.”
Grabbing his shower stuff, he rushes towards the shower imitating Sakusa and chooses the farthest stall from the door. The pressure in here is shit but at least he knows no one in their right mind is going to keep pestering him… then again, Bokuto’s roof has never been properly set.
The shower next to his starts and he dreads it might be Atsumu but no, it’s worse: it’s Bokuto.
Bokuto is not a bad guy. He’s a nice player, a reliable one even. Rintarou never got to play against him during high school as his team never made it that far in Nationals and in his second year they didn’t even make it at all, which incidentally was Bokuto’s last year; but he has heard rumours and Konoha is always more than willing to call the past back whenever Bokuto gets into one of his… moods.
Bokuto is like a walking sunshine. Rintarou doubts the man has a mean bone in his body or has ever hurt anyone on purpose… which is why they’ve never interacted too much. Rintarou knows he’s mean. He likes chaos and enjoys creating it and recording it. Yeah, he has tamed down compared to his teen self but still.
And Bokuto is too pure of heart, so yeah, Rintarou knows he’s not being annoying out of malice like, let’s say, Atsumu.
But it’s still bothersome and he’s exhausted.
“Sunarin, Sunarin. Don’t you think we should try to practise together more? We barely have done so! And, ooooh, you should totally come to one of our team hangouts. Or parties!!!! Yeah, that’d be so cool.”
“Pass.”
“C’mon Sunarin—”
“Don’t call me that. Just Suna. Or even Rin, but not… that.”
“… Rinrin!”
“Fuck no.”
Someone snorts nearby and when he hears Rinrin in Atsumu’s voice, he volts. He’s not even done with his shower but whatever. Drying himself hastily, he tries to leave the premises before he ends up murdering someone.
He’s tired beyond recognition, cranky and disappointed with himself because well, he has ended up playing into Atsumu’s game even after Sakusa pointed it out to him.
He’s halfway out of the gym when that annoying voice reaches him.
“Rinrin, wait for me!”
“Oh, fuck no.”
He sprints but Atsumu chases him. His legs are burning and crying, protesting after such intensive training and after some students stare at them, he halts and bends over, panting.
“Wow, ya really have endurance Sunarin. Never would’ve thought it! Yer usually so… slow.”
“I’m not. I’m a starting blocker for the team and we both know I’m not—”
Raising his hands, Atsumu smiles at him in mock defeat. “Relax, relax. I wasn’t insultin’ ya. I know yer a good player. Yer just a scrub during trainin’. Ya never take it seriously.”
“And you take it too much.”
Atsumu frowns. “That ain’t right! Trainin’ is important to hone one’s skills. Ya need to work super hard to be as good as me! Or well, I mean, ya could never be like me. Ya wish. I’m the best.”
Rintarou taps out of the conversation by resuming his journey back to his bedroom. Shoving his hands inside his pockets, he tries to keep his face blank as he keeps walking but Atsumu makes it really hard when he starts to poke him, literally and figuratively.
“I think ya should take Bokkun’s offer. We could all pair up! Do another 3 vs 3. You, Bokkun and me against Omi-kun, Moto-chan and Tetsu-chan. And oh, ya should totally come tomorrow to have lunch with us. I think tomorrow ya don’t have classes between 13 to 14, right?”
Freezing, he turns his head and observes Atsumu with distrust. “How do you know that? Are you stalking me, or something?”
“WHAT?!” Atsumu blurts insulted. “I’m not! I’ve just seen ya around. We’ve actually called ya a coupla times but yer always with yer music and ya don’t hear us. I once tried to getcha, but I lost ya in the crowd.”
“Pity,” he deadpans but Atsumu takes it as real as he nods.
“Yeah. Bummer. Ya could have eaten with us. Ya should totally do it tomorrow, Sunarin. Ya know, I know yer not a spiker, but I still set it to ya and from everybody else, yer one of the few people in the team I’ve barely got to know. Ya and Omi-kun! Moto-chan thought throwing parties at their place would help us all to bond… but then ya two decided to skip!”
What?
He doesn’t say it aloud but Atsumu seems to read it.
“Yeah. I mean, ya and Moto-chan get along. I’ve seen ya talking during practice and I know ya and Washio have this senpai-kouhai thing going on with blocking, but yer like… super secretive. Yer almost like a lone wolf and we’re a team, ya know?
“Tetsu-chan and Konoha have told me that ya’d come around but c’mon, we’re almost finishing our second year and you've just become besties with Omi-kun. Do I’ve to wait until our fourth year to become yer bestie too?”
“No. Don’t get tired of waiting because that’s not going to happen. And stop saying bestie. That’s so 2009.”
Petulant as a child, Atsumu’s smile widens as he singsongs, “bestie, bestie, bestie.”
When their dorm appears ahead, Rintarou starts to look for his ID card and walks slightly faster. Atsumu is right behind him but as he flashes his card and opens the door, Atsumu falls a step behind and Rintarou seizes it to lock him outside, shutting the door right in his face.
“HEY! Rinrin, don’t be mean. This is childish!”
“Then right up your alley, right?”
Atsumu fumes and stomps his foot before he starts to look for his own card, cursing him. Rintarou waits for the elevator and prays it comes before Atsumu manages to enter… but no such luck.
Standing right by his side, Atsumu waits along with him.
It’s a bloody battle. Elbowing the annoying setter, he feels Atsumu scratching him as they try to get inside the elevator. He knows he could have let Atsumu get in first and then patiently wait for the next one… but knowing Atsumu, he bets the asshole would have done something like kept the elevator on their floor or took a stop in all the floors just to spite him. At least, that’s what Rintarou intended to do.
They stand in the elevator panting.
“You need to trim your nails.”
“EXCUSE ME?! I’ve got an impeccable manicure, alright?! And ya need to eat something. Yer too bony.”
“Elbows are bony. Maybe you should go back to Bio 101 or better yet, go back to high school or elementary.”
Sticking his tongue out, Atsumu crosses his eyes as he taunts him.
“You just proved my point,” he dryly states.
Huffing, Atsumu leans against the elevator wall as they keep moving up. Living on the fifth floor has never felt as tiresome as today.
When they finally reach it, he stands behind Atsumu even if it feels like a loss as the man cockily moves ahead of him. He’s ridiculous. Atsumu is acting as if he had just won the lottery only because Rintarou hasn’t fought him to get out first.
Atsumu’s room is closer, so they part ways not even ten seconds later and as Rintarou keeps moving down the hall towards his own room, Atsumu yells, “ya should totally join us tomorrow, Rinrin! I meant it. Tetsu-chan and Bokkun want ya to.”
“Are you going to be there?”
He’s opening his door when Atsumu replies, “yes!”
“Then no!” With that, he slams his door shut, cutting off Atsumu’s outraged protests.
He plummets into his bed and falls asleep without even checking his phone. He’s too tired to even kick his sneakers off.
The next day, he leaves his class and heads towards the cafeteria without a single care in the world. He’s listening to some music and thinking about his next assignment for photography when someone tackles him down. He’s ready to snap and kick the living hell out of whoever has it been until he sees golden eyes and salt and pepper hair.
“Hey, hey, hey Rinrin! Tsum-Tsum said you’d join us today but that I had to fetch you so you wouldn’t get lost!”
Fucking bastard.
Bokuto leaves him no option as he starts to drag him across the halls until they reach a small wall in one of the inner patios where Kuroo, Atsumu and Akaashi are eating. He glares at the blond, but like the coward he seems to be, he ignores him, looking anywhere but at Rintarou.
“Hello there, Suna.”
“Kuroo. Akaashi.” He nods at him and Akaashi nods back with a gentle smile before Bokuto embraces him, setting him over his lap as if the man weighted nothing… which is quite impressive, even more so when Akaashi doesn’t even bat a lash and keeps eating his bento.
“What class did you have?”
“Composition.” He doesn’t elaborate any further and Kuroo just stares at him, unblinking, observing him. “Photography,” he adds at last.
“Aaaah! True, true, I heard you once talking with Komori about it. You’re doing arts right?”
“Kind of. You’re doing business, right?”
Kuroo smiles at that but there’s a glint in his eyes that doesn’t sit well with Rintarou. He recognises Kuroo as someone dangerous, someone willing and ready to mess with him. Maybe it’s because in a way, is like looking at a mirror. But it seems Lady Luck is now on his side as the man turns towards Atsumu.
“Tsum-Tsum, it looks like you lied to us. Suna never accepted your invitation, did he?”
“HE DIDN’T!?” Bokuto seems bewildered. “Oh, man! I’m so sorry Rinrin. Did you have plans already?”
“No. But I do need to go and buy something to eat.”
As he starts to move away, trying to guess where he should go and how he’s going to get accidentally lost on his ‘way back’, Kuroo decides to turn now against him.
“Atsumu can come with you. He can pay for the trouble and make sure you join us. Go, Tsum-Tsum.”
The way he purrs the nickname is so menacing that even Atsumu complies without further complaints. For an instant, Rintarou contemplates if it’s truly worth the hassle of getting a free meal versus having to endure Atsumu, Kuroo and Bokuto… Yes, yes it is because he’s a poor student who lives out of selling his pictures online and any yen he can save, is a yen that he can invest in a new lens for his camera or something else.
Surprisingly, Atsumu remains silent until they reach the cafeteria. He walks with Rintarou and doesn’t mock him for his choice of food, or makes another stupid comment about how skinny he is and how little he’s eating… which is worrisome.
“Are you having a stroke or something?”
“Huh?”
“You’re not yapping.”
“… I thought ya said I was annoying.”
“That has never stopped you before, now has it?”
“Oh, yer worried about me? My, my, I knew you cared Sunarin.”
It’s so obvious Atsumu is trying to deflect it’s even painful but they’re not friends, he doesn’t like Atsumu nor cares about him beyond the court so… he remains silent along with him and only elbows the man when they reach the register.
“What?”
“Pay.”
“What?!”
“You heard Kuroo, your treat.”
Atsumu tries to complain, but Rintarou smiles sweetly at the cashier and points at Atsumu. “He’s paying,” before he starts to leave.
The way back to the group is not that hard and as he’s halfway there, Atsumu catches him.
“Yer such an asshole!”
“Please, I could have been much meaner.” Lifting his curry bread, he shakes it. “How much has this costed you? ¥400? I can already hear the banks, rubbing their hands as they know you’re going to ask for a loan.”
“If it’s so cheap, why didn’t ya pay for it?”
“Easy, because I could let you do it. Never say no to free food.”
Atsumu grumbles under his breath.
When they reach the group, he stalks off, sitting as far away from Rintarou as he can, leaving Akaashi (and Bokuto) and Kuroo to stand between them. Rintarou considers for a second pushing his buttons a little bit more by sitting right next to him, but almost as if he sensed his wicked intentions, Atsumu throws his leg over the wall until his foot hangs out the end of it, leaving only the other end free, right next to Kuroo as he intended. Rolling his eyes, he sits there and Kuroo snorts, mumbling children before he keeps eating his bento. At least he’s not inhaling it like Bokuto… or Akaashi. Too baffled by that last fact, he stares at the quiet man until Kuroo laughs.
“Oh yeah, our little ‘kaashi here eats a lot… that is if he doesn’t forget about doing it. It depends on the day.”
“I ALWAYS TRY MY BEST TO MAKE SURE HE DOES!” Bokuto broadcasts… to everybody in the prefecture.
Rintarou wonders how or why Akaashi puts up with it, if he has the patience of a saint or the consciousness of Bokuto but seeing the fond expression on the man’s face, he knows it’s much worse: he’s in love. Ugh. As he eats his curry bread, he follows the conversation easily. When Kuroo isn’t being a pain in the ass, he’s quite decent and turns out Bokuto does have a volume control button in the shape of Akaashi saying Bokuto-san in a certain way that makes Bokuto mumble an apology before he lowers his voice… and then the circle repeats. Still, an improvement compared to their practice hours.
Atsumu remains mysteriously silent and when Kuroo catches him looking, he sighs dramatically.
“I’m afraid our little Tsum-Tsum kissed a toad last Saturday night. Akaashi has told us he saw his latest loverboy holding hands with another vixen. A true pity. A minute of silence, please. Ooookay, moving on until next week, thank you, thank you.”
It takes Rintarou three seconds to process that information and as Atsumu’s face scrunches up in betrayal and horror, he blurts. “Another failure in the romance front? How uneventful. At this rate, you’ll have given it a try to every gay and bi men on campus.”
Kuroo cackles like a hyena. “That’s what I told him! Seriously Tsum-Tsum, you need to stop looking for Prince Charming at a stinky party. People there are only looking for one thing, and that’s not marriage.”
Rintarou snorts and nearly chokes on his food. This is golden. If he had known Atsumu’s friends bullied him like this, he would have joined them sooner. Maybe he should even bring Sakusa.
It’s even better when Akaashi joins the conversation. “I agree with Kuroo-san and I also know Myaa-sam has told you to stop doing it.”
“Don’t bring that scrub up! And since when do you and my twin hang out?”
“You have a twin?”
Rintarou’s question echoes in the small patio as the other four men freeze and stare at him with a mixture of concussion, shock and bewilderment. Atsumu’s expression seems to darken, especially when Kuroo laughs and blurts, “holy shit! You really don’t like Atsumu, do you? You have never heard him dissing his twin? It’s hilarious. Osamu is studying cooking in a school not so far away from here, so he comes around sometimes and let me tell you: they fight mean.”
“Interesting.”
Bokuto is pouting. “Rinrin, Tsum-Tsum is always talking about Miyaa-sam.”
“I tend to tune his annoying voice out unless it’s something important like volleyball related. Otherwise, remember what I told you in the showers?”
Bokuto glances down at Akaashi and hugs him tightly, nodding. “I do! As you can see I followed your advice and now we’re together.”
“Not that.”
Lost, Bokuto tilts his head. Atsumu promptly stands up and sneers at him. “As if I gave a fuck about whatever a scrub like ya thinks about me. Ya think yer the first who doesn’t like me? So? I don’t care. I’m awesome and a better player than ya could even dream of being.”
“… pity your volleyball skills are outshined by your trash personality.” Standing up himself, he grabs his bag and waves goodbye. “Thank you for inviting me, but I don’t think I’ll ever join you. See you later Kuroo and Bokuto. Akaashi, see you around.”
Bokuto tries to stop him while Kuroo glares at Atsumu. “Not cool. I thought you wanted to—”
“Fuck off Tetsurou!”
“That’s not the best way to win—”
“I SAID FUCK OFF!”
He’s curious about what those two are talking about but he decides to move on. His curiosity is not worth spending any further minutes enduring Atsumu’s shitty presence.
The rest of the week goes uneventfully except for training. There’s a clear tension between Atsumu and him, or well, a one-sided tension. He decides to ignore the setter like he always does, engaging with all his teammates and joking around like usual. Atsumu though, huffs and acts like a high schooler, turning his face whenever Rintarou is nearby and silently throwing daggers at him to the point their captain and coach ask them if everything is alright.
“Sure,” he replies.
“YES!” Atsumu snaps… earning him another scolding about proper manners.
Another weekend goes by and another party takes place at Sakusa’s and Komori’s apartment and this time, Sakusa sleeps over. He rolls a sleeping bag neatly and Rintarou is a little bit amused as he watches Sakusa’s night routine before he goes to sleep. The man has a lot of creams and soaps as well as moisturisers and when their eyes meet in the mirror, Sakusa quirks a brow, daring him to say something.
“It’s cool. I haven’t done it in a long time because… well, I haven’t really got the chance or the energy, but I used to paint my nails and wear eyeliner, so no judgement here.”
“Oh.” A beat of silence passes before Sakusa asks him, “I was thinking of doing a face mask. Want one? It's a paper one. Individual packages.”
Rintarou has to bite his chuckle because of course it is. “Sure.”
As both of them lie on their respective beds with white sheets of wet paper over their faces, Rintarou snatches a selfie with Sakusa posing in the background and posts it on his Instagram.
Boy’s night out 💅🏻
“We’re not painting our nails.” Observes Sakusa. “Don’t you want to?”
Rintarou leaps from his bed and seeks around his room until he fishes a small bottle of nail polish and tosses it to Sakusa, who quickly wipes it with some alcohol and glares at him.
“Oops, sorry. I won’t do it again.”
“Clean your hands. This had dust. Gross.”
Rintarou rolls his eyes but complies and as he sits at a safe distance, he waits before giving his hand to Sakusa.
“I have never done this. And I don’t want to paint mine.”
“It’s cool, I never said you had to. Just do mine. It’s easy, like colouring a kids’ book. Just paint inside the lines, aka my nails. That’s it.”
Sakusa frowns but seems to accept the challenge. He manages to shakily paint one of Rintarou’s hands before they take off the face masks and then he paints with more confidence the other hand. The evolution and progress are quite obvious but he’s too tired to fish around the acetone to clean and repaint the messier ones.
They go to sleep and wake up early. Sakusa is grumpy in the mornings much to his amusement and his camera reel thrives with the new material as Sakusa’s hair is a bird’s nest. The man glares at him… but after last night and these past few weeks, Rintarou can say he no longer feels affected by it.
He sees a lot of notifications from Instagram but decides to ignore them in favour of having breakfast.
They are heading back upstairs, discussing what game they should play until lunchtime before Sakusa leaves (or so he claims as he has homework but Rintarou is already scheming to make him stay a little bit more as he doesn’t want to do his own) when they come across Atsumu, who seems to be crawling back to his room.
Hangover doesn’t sit well with the blond and it has clearly killed all his brain cells as rather than act hostile with him like he has been doing the whole week, he pretty much tackles him down. Sakusa quickly leaps away and Rintarou considers doing the same, letting Atsumu kiss the floor but there’s something in Atsumu’s eyes that makes him catch him before that happens.
“Wow, are you stupid or something?”
Atsumu clings to him and rubs his face all over his shoulder. “Sunariiiiiiiiiin. Suuuuunaaaaariiiiiiiiin. Rinriiiiin. Yer sooo, so mean to me. I… don’t… like… you.”
Like a bucket of icy water, he stiffens. “The feeling is mutual,” he says drily.
He straightens Atsumu up and tries to move away as something heavy sets on his stomach. He’s confused by it and even more confused by Atsumu’s behaviour. If he’s hungover, why is he acting like a drunk man? Has he been drinking this morning as well?
Sniffing him, he scrunches his nose. “Did you fall into a distillery?”
“Nope but I did drink something before coming back home,” he slurs. At least, that’s what Rintarou interprets from his awful speech. Between Atsumu’s thick Kansai-ben accent and his drunkenness, it’s quite hard to tell.
He casts a glance to his right, where Sakusa has glued himself against a wall. He seems one second away from having a stroke. Looking down at Atsumu who is now hiccuping and gripping Rintarou’s sleeping t-shirt, he sighs as he knows what he has to do.
He doesn’t like Atsumu, but he doesn’t hate him nor wishes him any harm and if he leaves the man on his own, it would pretty much be the same.
“Go ahead Sakusa. Maybe next weekend we can repeat?”
Sakusa blinks and frowns looking perplexed at Atsumu and then back at him. “Are you… sure? You don’t owe him anything.”
“He might choke on his vomit and die.”
“Gross.”
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
Sakusa nods in the end and walks ahead, leaving Rintarou to carry Atsumu’s heavy ass the two flights of remaining stairs until they reach their floor. He has no idea how Atsumu has managed to climb three floors by himself or why the heck he hasn’t used the elevator like a normal person, and cursing both Atsumu’s stupid ass and Sakusa’s fear of germs and refusal to use the elevator —meaning Rintarou would have been alien to Atsumu’s drunk state, enjoying a peaceful Sunday morning— he somehow manages to kick Atsumu’s door wide open after he finds the man’s key in one of his pockets.
The good thing about living on the fifth floor is that all the rooms are singles… the bad thing is that Atsumu lives alone, so he has no roomie that can look after his drunk ass, meaning that Rintarou has to actually stay with him and make sure he doesn’t die in his sleep. But first things first. He drops Atsumu on the floor, making the man groan and hiss in pain.
Good, he deserves it.
Opening some drawers, he finds some clothes and smiles wickedly as every clothing item he picks is mismatched in a really awful way.
Walking Atsumu into the common bathroom is another odyssey that makes Rintarou want to bang his head against a wall. He considers why can’t they just have a hose along with the shower stalls. He could clean Atsumu like in the movies, prison style, but no. Instead, he has to pray to the heavens that no one enters the bathroom or needs to use the showers as he gets naked and strips Atsumu as well, leaving only their boxers and starts to clean him the bare minimum.
It’s awful.
It’s painful.
It’s embarrassing.
He wants to die and he has never hated Atsumu so much.
Atsumu chokes on some water as he won’t shut up, not even while taking a shower nor while he’s drunk out of his ass and Rintarou doesn’t care. He doesn’t stop the water flow, not even when Atsumu starts to cough and cry, mumbling that water hates him.
“No. I hate you, you dramatic bitch.”
“Nah, ya don’t… right? Sunarin, ya can’t hate me. Please, pretty, pretty please, don’t hate me.”
The vulnerability in Atsumu’s eyes is like a punch in the stomach and for a second, Rintarou wonders what is going on and why is Atsumu looking so depressed as he begs him to not hate him.
“I thought you said I was a scrub and that you didn’t care if I don’t like you.”
That seems to miraculously sober him up a little and better yet, Atsumu shuts up at least.
Atsumu clumsily dries himself and Rintarou sighs as he guesses he has to go commando under his sweatpants as he has no dry underwear at hand. He refuses to dress Atsumu and barks at him to do it as he tries to mentally bleach the last ten minutes out of his brain. If Sakusa knew what he has just done he would instantly combust in disgust and drown Rintarou in hydroalcoholic gel while trying to exorcise whatever has possessed him. He would let him.
Once the drunkard of the month is done, Rintarou sighs but makes no attempt to point out that Atsumu has put his t-shirt backwards and inside out. Zero out of two, so, so pathetic. Instead, he drags him out of the bathroom, almost crying as Atsumu stumbles several times and forces him to carry his heavy ass back into his room.
He drops him unceremoniously on the bed and kicks the trash bin near Atsumu’s bed with a curt. “If you need to puke, do it there and now go to sleep.”
Atsumu mocks a salute and rolls over with a groan, burrowing his face into the pillow.
Several minutes of blissful peace go on that Rintarou seizes to catch up with his phone, replying to a couple of comments on his Instagram. Komori has spammed his last picture, demanding that Sakusa needs to do that with him as well and that he and Rintarou need to join the next party he throws. He snorts as it seems Sakusa has finally gotten home and is bluntly telling Komori to fuck the hell off.
Then Atsumu speaks up, breaking the spell.
“I can’t sleep.”
“Count sheep.”
“… one sheep. Two sheep. Three sheep—”
“Mentally.”
“… I lost count.”
Running a hand through his hair, Rintarou stares at the ceiling and wonders why him and what atrocious crime he must have committed in the past.
He’s wallowing in misery when the door opens and Atsumu 2.0. steps in. He stares at Rintarou with surprise and he stares right back at him. The only difference between the newcomer and Atsumu is the hair, the stranger has it dark, his natural shade he guesses as it matches the eyebrows —something he has never understood why Atsumu refuses to dye along; then again, he only dyes the top of his hair, leaving his undercut dark.
“Who are ya?” The man asks.
“The idiotic soul whose conscience decided to wake up when I found… your twin?” The man nods. “On the staircase, trying to climb it before he leapt into me like a frog. A very drunk frog.”
“SAMU!” Atsumu exclaims. He tries to stand up and falls, face first in a loud thud. Then he starts to cry or pretends to do so. “Ouch. That hurt. Oh no, what if now I become as ugly as ya?”
‘Samu’ rolls his eyes and ignores his twin, bowing his head curtly at Rintarou. “Thank ya so much, ya didn’t hafta. Ya could have let him rot there.”
“Sure,” he replies with a hint of irony as he takes him in. It’s clear Samu has run all the way here, probably after Atsumu’s drunk shenanigans reached him. After all, Kuroo mentioned something about Atsumu’s twin going to a cooking school not so far away from here. “Well, make sure he doesn’t die or whatever. If you don’t, don’t bother inviting me to the funeral.”
“Won’t do,” Samu replies amused.
Atsumu pouts even more. “Sunarin, yer so mean!”
“Sunarin?” Samu mumbles, eyes widening as he studies him. “Oh. So, it’s ya. I see. I knew Tsumu was exaggerating. Thank ya, again.”
Confused and curious about what Samu exactly means, he wants to stay and ask him but Atsumu does grabby hands at him and Rintarou bolts after that.