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Sakusa Kiyoomi, contrary to what many believe, has always been a big fan of the holiday season. He could understand why people would assume he wasn’t, what with the crowded shops, kids hopped up on gratuitous amounts of sugar, and the overall closeness of the season. And to that point, they wouldn’t be entirely wrong. Of course, Kiyoomi despised entering a store just to be affronted by a sea of more shoppers than he could count, but kids weren’t really an issue. They were just enjoying the festivities, so as long as none of them touched him, he could admire their joy – he wasn’t an entirely heartless asshole. And to top it all off the closeness was in fact his favourite part of the season, in spirit at least.
For 11 of the 12 months every year, Kiyoomi felt incredibly distant from all of the people around him. Physically, this definitely was not an issue, but as it pertained to relationships, he felt like there was some sort of a bond he was missing out on. He cared deeply for his friends and family, but as physicality was off the table, and he’d rather die than outwardly tell anyone – especially his teammates – that he values their presence, he came off as a very cold person. December was different though. December was when he got to make use of gift-giving to express how he feels, and not a year went by in recent history without Komori tearing up at “how sweet his cousin really is.”
As such, Kiyoomi fancied himself as quite the stellar gift-giver, so when the Black Jackals decided on doing a team secret Santa, he was fairly confident he could buy the perfect gift for whoever he drew. That is until he pulled out the piece of paper with the one name that he was dreading the possibility of: Miya Atsumu. Buying for anyone else would have been quick, easy, and even kind of fun, but there was one glaring issue Kiyoomi had in pulling Atsumu’s name. See, ever since high school Kiyoomi had thought that the only feelings he harboured toward Atsumu were strictly that of resentment. As it turns out, somewhere down the line those feelings may have developed into a teeny tiny (excruciatingly large) crush on the setter. He was only really hit with how bad he had it when he first felt the urge to give the other a high five during a practice match without even needing to sanitize first.
Pulling Atsumu had left Kiyoomi at something of an impasse. He certainly wasn’t going to get a bad gift – in turn giving up his self-proclaimed title of ‘best gift-giver Osaka’s ever seen’ – but he also didn’t really want to get a gift that might express anything more than platonic feelings. His first thought was a custom printed coffee mug that simply says worse Miya, but when he imagined Atsumu sulking in the corner all night after opening the gift, he swiftly decides that may be the worst possible outcome. After scrolling just about every website Kiyoomi thought Atsumu might like a gift from he was about to throw in the towel and go with some generic gift that anyone might like. That is until one item in particular caught his eye. It’s probably a bad idea, but it’s flashy and annoying and screams Atsumu. Before he can take too long to fight himself on it Kiyoomi hit the ‘buy now’ button, feeling relieved to have purchased his last Christmas gift.
+
“Would ya look at that,” Atsumu says, as he pulls his gift out of it’s wrapping. It’s a gaudy looking red and green headband with a little stand on it that would leave mistletoe hanging above his head. “if I didn’t know any better, I’d think my secret Santa is tryin’ to score a kiss from me.”
Okay, so maybe the gift looked a little more than platonic, but as the rest of the team hoots and hollers, Kiyoomi can’t help the twinge of pride he feels at Atsumu’s bright and genuine smile as he dons the accessory. The laughter is infectious and Kiyoomi finds himself grateful for the mask that’s covering his wide smile and the light blush forming on his cheeks.
As the night goes on Kiyoomi keeps his eye on Atsumu from the corner where he sat alone. Atsumu made his rounds, talking to each of their teammates, absolutely sure to give them a kiss on the cheek when they ended up “under the mistletoe with ole’ Tsumu.” Kiyoomi is distinctly Not Jealous™ and, in fact, entirely unbothered by these events, which is exactly why he feels his heart speed up so much when Atsumu takes the seat next to him on the couch. He pushes himself closer to Kiyoomi ever so slightly until his head is almost resting on the other’s shoulder.
“Oh, ‘m sorry Omi-kun, didn’t see ya there.” Atsumu says, with his signature shit-eating grin and lilt in his voice, “But it looks like you’re stuck with me under the mistletoe.”
Realistically, Kiyoomi knows he could just say no. He could say no, and Atsumu might tease him a bit, but he’d give it up without any real struggle. Kiyoomi knows he probably should say no, but it doesn’t take much internal debate for his rational side to get trumped by his overwhelming desire for Atsumu’s lips on him. He pulls his mask down to point at his cheek, opting to look anywhere but at Atsumu’s face while he leans in. But then he isn’t leaning in.
“Aww, just the cheek? Come on Omi-Omi, where’s the fun in that?”
Kiyoomi turns his head to object but doesn’t even have time to formulate a response before Atsumu took it as an invitation to catch his lips in a kiss. Kiyoomi pulled back quickly, feeling like his brain was short-circuiting. It was so soft and quick that he would’ve assumed it was imagined if not for the moment being interrupted by Bokuto’s yelling, “Tsum-Tsum! How come Omi got a kiss on the lips, but mine was only on the cheek? How’s that fair?”
“Bokkun, yer literally married, just go home and kiss your husband or something. I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Maybe I will!” Bokuto says as if it's some kind of punishment. The whole moment is bizarre to Kiyoomi, and before he could process anything that happened Atsumu’s gone, off to grab himself a new drink and chat with other teammates. Kiyoomi’s left with his mind reeling and lips that feel like fire. Though short-lived, he couldn’t stop thinking about the sensation of Atsumu’s lips on his and how he’d do just about anything to feel it again. As the night continued on, he found himself even more focused on Atsumu than he was before, taking a mental note of the fact that he didn’t end up kissing anyone else after that. It isn’t until Kiyoomi is about to call it in for the night that he actually speaks with Atsumu again.
“Hey, lemme walk ya home, Omi-kun!”
“You really don’t need to do that, Miya.”
“Do what, be a good friend?” Atsumu responds with a wink, “I was thinking about heading out anyway and your place is basically on the way to mine. So, let’s try this again. Whadd’ya say I walk ya home?”
“Fine.” Is Kiyoomi’s short answer, while walking out the door, not bothering to wait for Atsumu to put on his shoes and say a final goodbye to the group. He turns to look over his shoulder after a couple short minutes of walking alone, wondering if Atsumu had really changed his mind that quickly. Instead of the empty sidewalk that he’s expecting, he’s met with Atsumu jogging to catch up.
“Would it have killed ya to wait for me?” Atsumu says with a huff once he’s finally side by side with Kiyoomi.
“Yes.”
“Yer a mean one, Omi-kun,” Atsumu says (sings?) barely to the tune of You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch, “makes me think I shouldn’t give ya yer present.”
“And who says I’d want a present from you anyway?” Kiyoomi mocks, trying his best to hide his inner turmoil. Of course he’d want a gift from Atsumu, he actually finds it really sweet that Atsumu bothered getting a gift for him at all. He also notes that he didn’t see Atsumu give a gift to anyone else on the team and wonders if this makes him special. Though, on the other hand, maybe he’d just have the opportunity to see some of the others again before Christmas day. Luckily, this train of thought is interrupted before Kiyoomi can begin overanalyzing Atsumu’s every last movement that night.
“I guess I’ll just have to give it to ya out of spite then,” Atsumu responds, producing a small bottle of hand sanitizer from his pocket. It’s inside of a case that’s shaped like a Christmas present that can be fastened to bags. “It’s stupid and small and ya probably already have one of these bag thingies, but I saw it and I thought of you and I guess the giving spirit of the season infected me because I decided I couldn’t leave the store without getting it for ya. So merry Christmas, I guess.”
Atsumu’s clearly very flustered in a way that Kiyoomi’s not sure he’s ever seen from the setter before, and rambling about this as if it was some big purchase and not a bottle of sanitizer that couldn’t have possibly cost more than a couple hundred yen.
“Thank you, Miya.” Kiyoomi says quietly whilst taking it from Atsumu’s hand, thinking it wise to stop his babbling before it goes too far, “I appreciate it.”
Neither of them talks for a bit after that, just walking in silence instead. The quiet is calm after that strangely tender moment they shared and they’re happy to simply exist in each other’s presence. Though it doesn’t take long though for Atsumu to interrupt the silence again.
“I’m sorry about earlier… Y’know, the kiss…”
“You don’t have to apologize –”
“No, I really do,” Atsumu cuts him off, speaking more powerfully than at first. “You were clearly out of your comfort zone even letting me kiss you on the cheek, and I took it too far, and it was a really shitty thing to do, and I should have just apologized immediately, and I’m just really sorry and –”
There he goes, rambling again.
“Miya, listen to me, you don’t have to worry about it…” Kiyoomi pulls his mask down and takes a deep breath of the cool air, trying to sort out what he wanted to say next from all the thoughts crowding his head. He looks up to see the mistletoe headband still perched upon Atsumu’s head and decides that actions speak louder than words, so if he’s going to go there, he might as well go all the way.
With all the courage he can possibly muster he places both of his hands on Atsumu’s shoulders, feather-light, and leans forward to press their lips together. The sheer proximity to another person should be enough to make this feel all too wrong, though it’s anything but. Nothing’s felt more right to Kiyoomi than the way their lips slot together, but he’s quickly hit with the mortifying realization of what exactly he’s just done. Before he can pull away to apologize though, Atsumu’s hands have already made their way to Kiyoomi’s back and lips have parted. He lets himself kiss deeper, drinking in the already familiar warmth. In this moment it feels as though kissing Atsumu is what he was built to do, and so kiss Atsumu he does.
When Atsumu pulls away to catch his breath its with slick lips that have taken on a reddish hue, and the image sends a shiver down Kiyoomi’s spine.
“So…when I said that my secret Santa must’ve wanted to kiss me–”
“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence, Miya.” Kiyoomi says, the smile plastered on his face betraying the sinister tone he was aiming for.
“Omiiiii,” Atsumu whines, “If yer gonna kiss me like that, the least ya could do is call me by my first name.”
Kiyoomi lets out a huff and grabs Atsumu’s hand in his own, fingers interlocking before he starts walking forward again. Despite Atsumu’s eyes on him, baring into his soul he just stares forward when he – against his better judgement – whispers “Atsumu.”
“First Omi-kun kisses me, then he actually calls me by my name when I ask him to?” Atsumu says into the night, while giving a squeeze to Kiyoomi’s hand. “I think this is the best Christmas gift I could ever ask for.”