Chapter Text
Atsumu loved nothing more than to get blasted with his besties. And how could he not when they look this good?
“Damnnnnn, Kawa, you look good tonight,” the blonde said, smacking his best friend on the back. He was nothing if not the number one hype man. Oikawa responded with an extravagant hair flip and little wink, leading to a groan from Kenma.
“If you could fuck your own ass, I bet you would,” he said before sipping his pre-game vodka cranberry.
“Thank you, I would. No one else can handle all this,” Oikawa said, gesturing at himself seductively. Atsumu laughed with Suga, already knowing tonight would be fun.
“Don’t worry, Oiks, I could handle that,” Suga said with a little kiss. Atsumu couldn’t help but agree, offering a little hell yeah before Akaashi, ever the debby downer, declined.
“Two pillow princesses don’t make a top,” Akaashi said with a little deadpan.
The faux blonde laughed so hard he nearly tipped his white claw onto himself. Which would ruin his extremely put together outfit. He had on a dark brown cut off tank top, cut just above his waistline to show off the gold body chain that draped across his abs, and a pair of black leather pants that hugged his thighs and complimented his chunky boots.
They sauntered into Club Ignis, a refreshing but rank smell greeting them. Oh how Atsumu loved clubbing.
“Drink first, dance later,” Suga declared, gripping Atsumu’s wrist and literally dragging him to the bar. Someone was eager to get drunk.
They each ordered a tequila shot, no lines because they’re not pussies. They toasted to bad decisions, good lighting, and being hotter than everyone else in the room. The makings of a perfect night out.
As they settled into that initial burn of the alcohol and desperate need to get used to the smell, Atsumu couldn’t help but delightfully look around the club. Atsumu would be lying if he said he was itching for a good time tonight. Not that he wasn’t used to oglers or suitors, just that none have ever fucked him right. He wanted a perfect mix of being used but cherished.
Atsumu looked over at his friend, he always called him the silver to his gold, who looked ready to pounce on whatever caught his line of sight.
“Already making scenarios up in yer brain?” He asked, half-laughing as he swirled his drink.
Without a beat Suga replied, “Already picked the wedding venue. And the safe word.”
He clapped a hand on his friends thigh, laughing as he spoke, “Yer insatiable.”
“Jealous?”
“As hell.”
And he really was jealous when Suga’s new meal walked over and began to flirt. He took that as an excuse to get up and look on his own.
Atsumu weaved through the crowd, hips already swaying to the pulse of the bass-heavy beat. Bodies brushed against him—some accidental, some entirely on purpose. His eyes sparkled under the strobe lights, golden chain glinting like bait.
The first guy to approach was tall, tan, and immediately too eager. "Hey, gorgeous," he slurred, pressing in too close, fingers ghosting Atsumu's waist like they were already familiar. Atsumu gave him a once-over and a sugar-sweet smile that said not tonight, loser. He danced away.
The second one was better—clean cut, bright smile, clearly new to this kind of place. He offered to buy Atsumu a drink and tried to talk over the music about his grad program. Atsumu almost entertained it… until the guy said something about how he “didn’t usually go for guys like this.” Whatever this meant. Strike two.
By the third attempt—some guy who clearly worked out solely for Instagram thirst traps—Atsumu had spun away with a fake laugh and a dramatic hair toss. “Yer exhaustin’, babe,” he drawled, then promptly disappeared into the crowd.
But even as he danced, hands up, sweat sticking his top to his back, something prickled under his skin. A feeling of being watched—but not in the normal, I’m hot and people are looking at me way. This was... heavy. Different. Like someone was tracking him through the strobes and shadows. He glanced around but saw only the crush of strangers and heat and lights.
Still, it made his heart skip—thrill and warning tangled in his chest. And for some reason, it made him dance harder.
Another guy, this one slimy with cologne and entitlement, grabbed his wrist mid-spin.
“You’ve been teasing me all night,” the man said, voice close and sour against his ear.
“I don’t even know ya,” Atsumu snapped, trying to pull away.
But the guy gripped tighter. “Don’t play coy. I’ve seen the way you look around.”
“Let go of me,” Atsumu growled, charm instantly gone. He tried to wrench away—but the guy dug in like he thought this was a game.
Then, bam.
A fist collided with the guy’s jaw. It happened so fast Atsumu barely registered it—only saw the blur of motion and the man stumbling back, cursing and clutching his face.
And standing in his place, breath slightly heavy, curls mussed, a black mask covering most of his face… was him.
Tall. Mysterious. Quiet rage simmering just beneath the surface.
Atsumu blinked. “Ya just—”
But before he could get a word out, the guy turned away. Vanishing into the crowd without a trace.
Atsumu stood frozen, chest heaving. Skin buzzing. He didn’t even get a name. Didn’t even see his face.
But damn if he didn’t want to.
And for once, maybe ever, he didn’t feel like a piece of meat on display.
He felt… chosen .
—-
Alone and searching in the strobes of the club, Suga approached him. With the way he was wiping lip gloss of his chin and the messiness of his hair, Atsumu already knew what he was up to. He said as such, “Hi sugar cubes,” with everything he knew laced in his voice like honey. Suga waggled his brows to let Atsumu know his suspicions were correct.
“I may have just met the man of my dreams!” Oikawa swooned, appearing out of thin air, then dramatically throwing his arms over Atsumu and Suga.
The pair immediately swatted him off, groaning at the overwhelming wave of body heat he brought with him.
“Oh yeah?” Suga yelled over the music, grinning. “Tell us about him, stud.”
Oikawa collapsed into the space between them like a fainting diva. “Tall. Brooding. Arms like vengeance incarnate. Said I was ‘beyond pretty,’ then vanished into the crowd like some kind of emotionally unavailable Greek god.”
“Oh wow, he’s in deep with this one,” the blonde muttered before sipping his drink.
“Look—he’s the one over there with the other tall, dark, and handsome guy,” Oikawa said, directing their attention to the corner.
At that, Suga spat out his drink, blushing from head to toe.
“Woah there, silver fox, he’s mine ,” Oikawa said, dabbing the alcohol off Suga’s chin with a cocktail napkin.
“No, no, no—the one next to him,” Suga said quickly. “I made out with him by the bathroom. He was a goooood kisser. I want to lick his face, actually.”
Atsumu just shook his head at the dilemmas his friends were going through.
“Well, at least you two are having some luck,” he huffed. “This awfully disgusting guy came onto me, and then—get this—this sexy guy in a face mask threw him off me . Didn’t say a word, didn’t check if I was okay—just disappeared. But god, he was so fine.”
Atsumu scanned the crowd again, craning his neck to get an advantage despite being six feet tall. He’d been doing this every two minutes for the past half hour. He didn’t really pay attention to the plan his friends devised until they were off into the crowd leaving him to find Kenma and Akaashi.
When he approached the bar to find only Akaashi he was slightly confused.
“Hey, sexy. Where’s Kenma?”
“Shockingly, outside alone with a man,” Akaashi said, a little pride laced in his voice.
“That’s wild. Anyway, how’s your prospecting?”
“That one,” he said, pointing at a man with two-toned hair, “Looks like a bird.”
Atsumu formed a little ‘o’ with his lips. He was standing right next to his man!
“Okay, so the guy next to him—the one with the curls and mask? He saved me from this creep. Punched him. Didn’t even say anything.”
“You gonna try to hit that?”
“Only if I can get him alone.”
Akaashi’s lips twitched into a smirk. “I can fix that.”
And with the speed of who Atsumu could only assume to be God, Akaashi was on the move. As he spoke to his ‘bird man’, Atsumu could tell he said something to his night and shining armor. But the vigilante just looked at him as Akaashi and the other man danced away.
Then, taking his gaze away, Kenma popped up.
“Oh there you are! Akaashi said you disappeared to talk to a man when I came over here, I didn’t believe him,” he looked at him amused, but Kenma wasn’t having it as he sat down.
“Speaking of disappearing, where did he run off to?”
“He said a man he was ogling with you earlier was alone and too sexy to ignore. Anyway, you’re never going to believe what happened to me! I was dancing and this totally rancid guy kept trying to rub on me and then this really hot guy wearing a medical mask totally threw him off me. He disappeared though, I need to find him. He deserves a thank you,” Atsumu said before sipping his drink. Because now, in the minute since he took his eyes off him, the curly-haired-man was gone. Again.
Kenma knocked back his shot, “So you’re telling me a stranger saved your ass and vanished like a hot ninja?”
“Exactly!” Atsumu pointed at him aggressively because he was tired of searching around for him. “Like, who does that? It was mysterious. Sexy. He had great hair. Tall. And his arms—God, Ken, I swear they were sculpted by divine intervention.”
Kenma grimaced. “I’m literally right here.”
Atsumu waved a hand. “You don’t count, you’re my friend. I can’t objectify you.”
“How noble of you.”
He sat unbothered, an idea sparking, “Do you think if I just stood in the middle of the dance floor and looked helpless again, he’d reappear?”
“Maybe if you wore a flashing neon sign that said ‘harass me,’” Kenma said, deadpan.
“Tempting,” Atsumu said, sipping his drink again. “Anyway, what’s the deal with your guy? You gonna ghost him like usual?”
A little offense lacing his features, Kenma cocked a brow, “No. He asked for my number.”
“And you gave it to him?” He looked at him with mock betrayal, mostly trying to make him laugh.
Kenma shrugged. “He wasn’t annoying.”
“That is the highest praise you’ve ever given a man,” Atsumu said, clutching his chest. “I’m so proud of you.”
“You sound like a dad at a graduation.”
“Listen, you get two gold stars tonight. One for flirting and one for not bolting the second someone touched your thigh.”
Kenma rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.
“Also,” Atsumu added, leaning in conspiratorially, “Suga’s making out with someone on the dance floor. I don’t know who it is. He just held up a peace sign at me mid-kiss.”
Kenma snorted. There’s a laugh!
“It’s going to be chaos when we try to gather everyone back up,” Atsumu sighed.
“Should we make a group chat and call it ‘The Slutty Setters’?”
Kenma blinked at him. “We already have one.”
Atsumu’s eyes widened. “Wait—that’s what that was?”
Kenma gave him a slow nod, then raised his empty glass. “Get me another shot and maybe I’ll help you find your mask-wearing vigilante.”
“Deal.”
The next tequila shot burned a little less.
Maybe it was the buzz settling into his limbs, or maybe it was the way his pulse hadn’t really slowed since the punch heard ‘round the dance floor. Atsumu felt… untethered. Like something had unspooled in his chest and he didn’t know how to stitch it back yet.
“Okay,” Kenma said, sliding off the barstool with the disinterest of someone about to commit a felony out of boredom. “Let’s go find him, Romeo.”
“I thought you said maybe if I got you a shot.”
Kenma shrugged. “I lied.”
They slipped back into the crowd, weaving through dancers and spilled drinks, searching the perimeter for any sign of his mystery man. The lights kept strobing, catching glints of gold chain on Atsumu’s body and reflecting in the mirrors lining the club walls. He knew how he looked. He always did.
But for once, he didn’t want to be looked at .
He wanted to be seen .
And something about those eyes—he hadn't even fully seen them, but he felt them—left a mark. Not just the moment, not just the punch. The quiet rage. The protective violence. The refusal to linger. The strength of his hand.
“Ken,” he said quietly as they stopped near the back lounge, “what if he wasn’t just some guy?”
Kenma blinked. “What? Like a secret agent?”
“No. I mean… what if he knew me?” Atsumu said, voice quieter than he meant it to be.
“What if he didn’t say anything because he knows me? Knows I’d ruin it if I knew too much.”
Kenma tilted his head. “You think you’ve met him before?”
Atsumu turned, scanning the crowd like his life depended on it. “No. But it felt like I had.”
And then—he caught it. A flash of dark curls, a glint of silver chain on a thick wrist. The slope of a shoulder he’d memorized a hundred times on the court. The body that blocked spikes like it was built for war.
His stomach dropped.
There.
Standing near the exit, partially hidden behind a column. One gloved hand holding a drink. Mask still on. Watching him.
Atsumu’s knees nearly buckled.
“You found him?” Kenma asked.
“Yeah,” Atsumu said, breath caught in his throat. “And I think I know who he is.”
Kenma raised a brow.
But Atsumu was already walking.
Crossing the floor like gravity had reoriented around him. The crowd parted just enough. Time slowed just enough. The music blurred and pulsed in his ears like underwater thunder.
The man didn’t move.
Didn’t flinch when Atsumu stopped in front of him.
Didn’t say anything.
Just… looked at him.
Eyes dark as obsidian under the dim lights. Unreadable. Electric.
Atsumu’s voice was barely a whisper. “Sakusa?”
The man didn’t answer.
But he didn’t deny it either.
And for Atsumu, that was enough.
He reached out, gently, fingers brushing Sakusa’s forearm. “Was it really you?”
Sakusa looked away for a second. Not out of shame. Out of calculation. Then nodded once.
Atsumu swore the beat of the music paused. Or maybe it was his heart.
“You saved me,” he said. “And you didn’t even let me say thank you.”
Sakusa’s voice was low, like stone breaking water. “You didn’t need to.”
“But I want to,” Atsumu said, stepping closer. “You hit that guy like you’d been waiting for an excuse.”
“I don’t like seeing you touched like that.”
The honesty in it—simple, direct—hit Atsumu harder than the punch had hit that creep.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, softer now.
Sakusa’s eyes flicked over his face. “Because I didn’t want to ruin it.”
Atsumu’s throat tightened. “Ruin what?”
Sakusa reached up, brushing a thumb just barely along the chain at Atsumu’s waist, fingers not even fully touching skin. “This.”
Atsumu forgot how to breathe.
His voice was a rasp. “You always this smooth, or is it just the mask?”
A corner of Sakusa’s mouth twitched. “I’ve had practice.”
And just like that, something inside Atsumu settled—then bloomed.
Maybe he didn’t need to be chased. Maybe being chosen by someone who already knew what he was worth was better.
——
“What are you doing in Tokyo?” Atsumu asked as they now sat alone at the bar.
“Same reasons as you. School, friends,”
“Friends? Like the one with Akaashi?”
“Actually…all four of the friends I’m with are with one of your friends,” Sakusa admitted. He explained to Atsumu how he told them this guy he was in love with had a friend who was each of their types and—-
Hang on.
“I’m sorry did you just say you’re in love with me!?”
To say Sakusa was shocked he said that out loud was an understatement. His face went red and he looked like he was about to shut down. Atsumu clasped a hand over Sakusa’s, running a thumb over it in soothing motions. Just how he knew to calm him down.
“Why’d you never tell me before?”
Sakusa swallowed, the silver ring on his middle finger twisting restlessly beneath Atsumu’s thumb.
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “Maybe I thought you’d laugh. Or worse— know .”
Atsumu blinked. “Know what?”
“That I meant it.”
The bartender dropped off another round of drinks, mercifully interrupting the intensity for a beat. Atsumu stared at his glass, then at Sakusa’s reddened ears. He remembered those ears from years ago—when Sakusa would pull his hoodie up during travel days, trying to disappear into himself after a loss.
“I didn’t know,” Atsumu said softly, swirling the melting ice. “But I think I felt it. Sometimes.”
Sakusa’s head turned slightly.
“Like when we stayed up in hotel rooms watching that dumb cooking show ‘cause neither of us could sleep,” Atsumu continued. “Or when you taped my fingers for me. You were always so gentle.”
Sakusa smiled, just faintly. “You always needed taping.”
“I needed you , Sakusa,” Atsumu said, half teasing, but it still caught in his throat. “I just didn’t know how to say it.”
He didn’t mean to sound so serious. But he didn’t regret it, either.
Silence stretched between them, heavy with history and slow revelations. Then Sakusa, quiet as ever, asked:
“You gonna make me say it again?”
Atsumu smirked. “You think I wouldn’t want to hear it again?”
Sakusa looked down at their joined hands.
“Fine,” he murmured. “I’m in love with you.”
Atsumu could’ve made a joke. Could’ve flirted or deflected. But instead, he leaned in, resting his forehead against Sakusa’s.
“I think I’m ready to fall back in love with you,” he whispered.
——
As Sakusa led Atsumu through his penthouse, up the stairs and towards the master bedroom, Atsumu felt like everything was surreal. Like all the bad hookups over the years were just signs that this moment was on its way. That everything was going to fall in place once he reunited with Kiyoomi. His Kiyoomi. His Omi-Omi.
“You’re thinking too much,” Sakusa said, pulling his mask down and kissing Atsumu. It felt like the wind was being knocked from his lungs in the best way possible. Atsumu melted into the kiss, clutching at Sakusa’s shirt like it could tether him to reality. But Sakusa pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips.
“Come on. You need to cool off.”
Atsumu huffed a breathy laugh. “You gonna douse me with ice water or somethin’?”
“Something like that,” Sakusa said, tugging gently at his wrist as he led him down the short hall past the bed and toward a sleek en suite bathroom.
The lighting was low, moody. The marble tiles underfoot were warm. The kind of expensive detail Atsumu would normally make fun of—if he wasn’t too busy floating.
Sakusa let go of his hand only to reach into the glass shower and turn the water on, steam beginning to rise like a curtain around them. Then he turned back, stepping close, hands finding the hem of Atsumu’s cutoff tank.
“Can I?”
Atsumu nodded, suddenly shy for the first time that night. Sakusa peeled the shirt off with deliberate slowness, reverent even, like each inch of skin revealed was something precious.
The gold body chain glinted in the soft light.
“You wore this for attention,” Sakusa said quietly, eyes tracing the chain down Atsumu’s torso.
“I wore it for you ,” Atsumu murmured, and Sakusa’s breath hitched.
Then, with a gentleness that nearly undid him, Sakusa leaned in and pressed a kiss to Atsumu’s collarbone. Atsumu undid his pants, pulling everything down until he was naked in the glow of Sakusa’s bathroom.
“Get in,” he whispered. “Before I change my mind and make you beg first.”
Atsumu smirked, stepping backward into the misted glass shower. “You want me to beg.”
“I want to hear everything.”
Atsumu let himself enjoy the warm spray and growing steam, joined seconds later by Sakusa, whose state of dress matched his own. Bare and beautiful.
The heat wrapped around them like silk, curling against skin slick with condensation. Water dripped down Sakusa’s curls, rivulets tracing the sharp cut of his jaw, the line of his throat. Atsumu couldn’t stop staring.
“You’re doing it again,” Sakusa murmured, stepping closer until Atsumu’s back brushed the cool tile wall.
“Doing what?” Atsumu asked, his voice a little too breathless to play coy.
“Thinking too much. Looking at me like I’m a dream.”
Atsumu’s fingers reached for his waist like a reflex. “You are .”
Sakusa didn’t answer with words—just pressed a hand flat against Atsumu’s chest, firm enough to anchor him, gentle enough to worship.
“I’ve thought about this,” Sakusa said quietly, eyes roaming. “About touching you like this. About how you’d sound when I make you fall apart.”
Atsumu’s breath caught. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. So don’t hold back.” He leaned in, breath brushing Atsumu’s ear. “I want to hear everything.”
Atsumu shivered, more from anticipation than the water.
“Even if I beg?” he teased, eyes half-lidded.
“Especially if you beg.”
And that was all it took for Atsumu to melt. Into the heat. Into the water. Into Sakusa’s hands as they gripped his hips and turned him toward the stream. The first kiss to the back of his neck made him gasp.
“You’re so good like this,” Sakusa whispered, breath warm against his damp skin. “So pretty when you let go.”
Atsumu tipped his head back, a quiet whimper escaping his lips.
“I got you,” Sakusa promised, voice low. “Just let me take care of you.”
Sakusa ran his fingers up Atsumu’s sides, his touch grounding as if he was memorizing every curve of Atsumu’s body. Atsumu laid his head back on Sakusa’s shoulder, a low moan drawling from his lips. He’d always imagined this—-him pliant in Sakusa’s arms. He just never thought it could be real.
“Can I touch you now?” Atsumu looked at him like he didn’t even need to ask. Sakusa took him in his hands, his callouses rubbing deliciously against Atsumu’s cock. His other hand was busy playing with Atsumu’s nipples, reaching around his chest to flick his sensitive spots. He continued kissing at Atsumu’s neck and collarbones, the touches and stimulations were all Atsumu ever wanted and needed. He let himself go, feeling the skin on skin contact and taking in the smell of steamy water and something that was so Sakusa. He could feel that Kiyoomi wanted this just as bad, his hard-on pressing against Atsumu in a way that made him want it more than he already did.
Sakusa continued stroking him, swiping his thumb over the tip every time his hand moved back up the shaft. Atsumu felt boneless in Sakusa’s arms, ready to be ruined or taken care of, whatever the night would bring. Kiyoomi stroked faster, evidently trying to make Atsumu finish for him.
“You’re so damn pretty like this. Every sound you make—made for me,” Sakusa whispered into Atsumu’s ear. He couldn’t help but come right then, whether it from Omi’s words or from the pace of his strokes, he didn’t care. He wanted him so badly. Sakusa rinsed his hand in the running water, cleaning off the remaining slick from Atsumu’s stomach.
“So perfect for me, baby,” he said, pulling Atsumu in for another kiss. He turned off the water and backed them out of shower, lazily drying them off before bringing Atsumu to his bedroom. They both got on the bed, raised on their knees, kissing whatever skin they could get their lips on. Hands wandered, exploring and squeezing every muscle of one another’s body. It was sensual yet filthy all at once. But Atsumu needed more, he felt needy and his bratty side was ready to come out.
“Please Omi, I’m ready for whatever you’ll give me,” he begged. Sakusa only smirked down at him kissing him all over his face. He laid him back, pushing his legs open to reveal his tight ring of muscle. He stuck his tongue in, digging it around, Atsumu sighed in pleasure. His tongue kept moving deeper, sucking and kissing at his hole. He let up, murmuring something about lube. Atsumu was impatient and Sakusa was taking a little too long for his liking.
“Hurry up, or I’ll find someone else to fuck me,” he said exasperated. He was letting his bratty side show, but he didn’t care. Kiyoomi knew what he was getting himself into. Sakusa quickly leaned up to his ear, a bottle opening sound distant even though it was close.
“No one else gets to touch you. Say that shit again and you’ll come untouched,” he said, possessively. Atsumu liked being kept in check like this, like he was precious but also needed to be handled. Sakusa squirted lube onto his hand, rubbing the lube between his fingers. He circled a finger around the rim, inserting a finger up to the first knuckle. He worked it in and out, inserting a second one and scissoring Atsumu open. Atsumu moaned, drawling out a series of incoherent babbles, muffled by his hand.
“Don’t hold back. Let me hear it. I want to hear how much you need me,” he said, removing Atsumu’s hand from his mouth. He clasped them together over Atsumu’s head, leaning down to press a kiss into his mouth. Their tongues danced, sloppily licking into each others mouths.
“I need you. All of you,” he said, absolutely wrecked. Sakusa smiled down, kissing down his jaw to his neck, adding in another finger. Atsumu opened up for him, ready to be full of Sakusa.
“You take me so well. Look at you. So eager. So perfect,” he said as if reading Atsumu’s mind. Atsumu nodded, moaning our more incoherent noises.
“You’re mine. Even when you’re a mess. Especially then,” Sakusa whispered into his ear. Atsumu never felt so loved.
“Say it to me again.”
“You’re mine,” he said, biting on Atsumu’s throat. He littered his neck with hickeys and love bites.
“You want me to wreck you like no one else could?” He leaned in and whispered, “Then take it. And thank me after.” He removed his fingers, rubbing a soothing hand over his hip.
“I’ll thank you with my whole body,” he said, opening his thighs a little more. Sakusa lined himself up, slowly inserting his cock. He bottomed out, balls deep inside Atsumu. It felt even better than he imagined, like their two souls were connecting.
“You’re being so fucking good for me. Obeying so well. I could keep you like this forever,” he said sharply, thrusting in deeper. He pulled all the way out before thrusting all the way in, making Atsumu moan deeply.
Atsumu rolled his hips up, matching each thrust Sakusa made. They continued moving, sinking deeper into each other with every movement. Sakusa stalled for a second, breath hitching as Atsumu’s voice broke around his name. His nails raked down Sakusa’s back, head falling back with a sharp cry. His whole body arched, hips jerking as that coil inside him finally snapped, white-hot and blinding.
“Fuck—Omi, I’m gonna—ah, don’t stop, don’t—” His voice broke, wrecked and wanting, and when he came, it was with a sob of pleasure and a litany of praise he couldn’t hold back. Sakusa groaned low and deep, thrusts stuttering, eyes squeezed shut. “So good—fuck, Tsumu, you’re perfect—” He came with a shudder, collapsing into Atsumu’s chest like the world had just ended and restarted in the space of a heartbeat.
Sakusa reached for a towel, wordlessly tending to both of them, his movements careful and precise — not out of distance, but reverence. He wiped Atsumu down, his hands lingering just long enough to soothe, not startle. Then he tossed the towel aside and pulled Atsumu back into his arms.
Atsumu let himself be gathered. Let himself melt.
His muscles ached in that satisfying way, skin buzzing, body warm with more than just the heat of the shower or the mattress. He tucked his face into Sakusa’s neck, letting his fingers drift across the lines of his chest like he still couldn’t believe this was real.
“You okay?” Sakusa asked softly, voice low and careful.
“Mmm,” Atsumu hummed, not moving.
“Sore. Satisfied. Kinda feel like I just got hit by a truck. In a good way.”
That earned a small laugh — a real one, light and affectionate. Sakusa pressed a kiss to Atsumu’s damp hair.
“I meant emotionally.”
That gave Atsumu pause. He pulled back slightly, looking up at Sakusa. “Like everything in life makes sense again.”
Sakusa’s brows softened at that, like the answer both touched and unsettled something in him. His fingers brushed through Atsumu’s hair, still slightly damp and curling from the heat.
“I was scared,” he murmured, barely above a whisper. “That it wouldn’t be like how I remembered it. That you wouldn’t feel the same.”
Atsumu blinked at him, something sweet and aching unfurling in his chest. “Omi… you idiot.”
He leaned in, bumping their foreheads together.
“It’s better than I remembered. I’ve had a thousand shitty nights trying to pretend I didn’t miss you like hell. And now you’re here. So I’m gonna take this win and kiss you until you get sick of me.”
Sakusa’s lips twitched. “Bold of you to assume I’d ever get sick of you.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he continued. “And I love you.”
Atsumu closed his eyes like it was too much and not enough all at once. His arms tightened around Sakusa’s waist, clinging in that unspoken way that said, I believe you now.
“I love you too Omi Omi.”
Atsumu let out a slow breath, “Still feels like a dream. Except none of my dreams ever felt this safe.”
Sakusa kissed his temple again, “That’s ‘cause none of your dreams had me in them.”
Atsumu laughed, then went still for a moment, heart full.
“They do now.”