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The steam rolled off his body in hazy waves, condensation fogging up the small cubicle. Hot water poured around him, seeping into his skin and warming his entire body. The tension in his muscles was finally starting to loosen its grip. It had been a long day of rigorous training and drills, enough to make any professional limp the next day. But the finals were coming up, so there was no way Foster would let up now.
Kiyoomi stood under the spray of the locker showers, unable to move properly. Throughout the session, he knew that his body would feel every movement later; his stiff joints tightening when he got into bed. He knew that he was wasting perfectly great hot water, but lifting his arms to wash the grime and sweat from his hair seemed impossible.
He could faintly hear the chatter from his teammates, laughing and joking like the day that they had collectively experienced hadn’t occurred at all. Kiyoomi felt inadequate to them. Why were they so mobile and he was still standing in the shower, with pain radiating up and down his limbs?
Tears forced themselves into his eyes, blurring his already limited vision. On good days, the hours would pass without the indescribable feeling spreading through his fingertips and the dull ache in his wrists. However, after such a difficult practice and blatant ignorance of Foster’s concerns, Kiyoomi regretted ever deciding to be a volleyball player.
Wrapped up in his intrusive thoughts, Kiyoomi didn’t hear the soft pitter-patter of bare feet on wet tiles, but he did hear the knock on his shower door.
“Hey Omi!” A relieving sound came in the form of Atsumu's voice and broke Kiyoomi out of his trance. “Yer takin’ awhile; everything alright?”
“Yeah… no,” Kiyoomi admitted quietly, shutting off the water, instantly missing the scalding temperature. He reached up to unlock the door, trying to forget about the shock in his elbow and actually grip the lock.
Astumu must have heard his barely audible confession, because he was waiting outside the door, half-naked in a towel with another two towels in his arms. His gaze was that of intimate kindness that only Kiyoomi got to see.
“We’ll go home and draw a bath,” Atsumu said as he helped Kiyoomi out of the shower, wrapping him in soft fabric that reminded him of the bathrobe he had as a child. “Do ya think ya can make it home?”
Kiyoomi gave Atsumu a tiny nod, pinprickles of glass stabbing at his eyes as he watched his partner run off to the benches. He felt childish, waiting for Atsumu, wrapped tightly in a towel and another on his head. Not a minute later, the blond reappeared, no longer naked.
He felt even more immature as Atsumu guided him over to a dry bench, dried him off, and helped him get his clean, soft clothes on. Atsumu’s calloused hands were soft on Kiyoomi’s sensitive skin, and as gently and quickly as possible, he was dressed.
Shuffling awkwardly out of the changing room, everyone gave him and Atsumu a once-over and knew immediately.
“Feel better soon, Omi-san!” Hinata offered, giving Kiyoomi a bright grin that was almost as warm as the water he was just under. “If you need anything, let us know.”
Kiyoomi couldn’t give much in return, just a barely there smile. Which caused Hinata to smile even more.
“Will do, Sho-kun.” Atsumu drawled, swiftly moving to pack up their sports bags, which Inunaki snatched.
“You guys head home; we’ll handle things here.” Bokuto ushered them to the door as Adriah and Inunaki sorted through their stuff.
“Oh,” Atsumu stuttered wordlessly, and Kiyoomi nodded gratefully. “Um, okay. Thank ya so much.”
“Not an issue in the slightest,” Oliver replied.
“Go home, guys,” Meian finished. “Get some rest; I’ll talk to Foster.”
The door shut in their faces.
Kiyoomi and Atsumu headed out of the building and towards the complex. It wasn’t a far walk, and with the lights of Osaka around them, it was quite a nice walk. Even though Kiyoomi couldn’t properly enjoy it because every step sent sharp jabs to his knees.
He couldn’t even speak, unable to apologise for being such a bother to Atsumu. He knew his partner would vehemently deny and oppose the comment, but it was a fact. They wandered home in silence, at a much slower pace than usual. Kiyoomi felt like an old auntie, strolling through the park that the two loved to run around in the early morning.
They reached the complex within 15 minutes, Atsumu leading the way through the dark rooms until they reached Kiyoomi’s. The setter dashed to the bathroom, the loud noise of rushing water filling the empty space. Kiyoomi just stood in the middle of the room, fingers twitching unwillingly, wanting nothing but to crawl into his bed and never leave the warmth of the inviting blankets.
He didn’t know how much time had passed, if it had been mere moments or literal hours, when Atsumu reentered the bedroom. His boyfriend interlocked their hands as tenderly as possible, pulling him towards the bathtub.
Atsumu helped him get out of the clothes he had helped put on, supporting him to the edge of the tub. Hand in hand, Kiyoomi got into the bath, the epsom salted water pooling around him. This was much nicer than the showers, because he could just lie there, no pressure on his tender ankles. Atsumu never left his side, simply sitting in the silence.
“Is there anything ya need me to do right now?” Atsumu tentatively asked.
“My hair?”
Atsumu immediately shifted his position so he was on the ledge behind Kiyoomi’s head. Pouring water with a hand-held showerhead, the burning heat caused him to whimper softly.
“Too hot?”
“Colder, please.”
He complied instantly. The water was still warm, sinking into his scalp and scrambling his brain, the bouncy curls plastering themselves by his ears. After his hair had fully soaked, Atsumu massaged in the special curl shampoo and everything; all the pain and discomfort melted away.
Kiyoomi just lay there, skin wrinkling under the temperature and being loved in a way that he hadn’t felt ever.
“I’m sorry,” Kiyoomi whispered, but of course Atsumu heard him. The massage stopped, and honey-brown eyes appeared in front of him.
“Don’t be.” Atsumu resumed his ministrations. “I want to do this.”
For the third time that night, Kiyoomi felt his eyes welling up with tears that never fell.
“I love you.”
“I love ya too, Kiyoomi.” Atsumu's hands were full of dark curls. “Nothin' will ever change that.”
Usually, Atsumu would tease him, and Kiyoomi would roll his eyes. But tonight, that didn’t happen. No, tonight, they fell back into comfortable quiet.
After rinsing out all the conditioner from Kiyoomi’s hair, Atsumu assisted him out of the bathtub, drying the remaining droplets from his body. Kiyoomi watched the water drain out, mesmerised by the whirlpool in his tub, as Atsumu attended to his dripping hair with a hair dryer.
Kiyoomi was then guided back into his room, bed organised, so Kiyoomi could sit comfortably. Atsumu scampered back into the bathroom, probably to clean up the mess they had made. He took a couple of painkillers from his Hello Kitty medicine container that Motoya had gifted to him as a young child suffering much more than now.
He sat, surrounded by pillows and swamped in warm blankets, waiting on Atsumu. His body was relaxed, still buzzing with the warmth of the bath, but slowly yet surely, stiffness and a dull ache were settling deep into his bones.
Atsumu reappeared, bearing a tub of his splints, tapes and compression garments, massage creams and heat/cool packs. This ‘toolkit’ had been given to him when he was diagnosed and had grown larger over the two decades since. When the pair first got together, Atsumu was constantly fretting and stressed out over helping Kiyoomi with his condition. At times he had majorly overdone it, all in the name of love, but regardless, he had spent countless hours researching and learning and simply listening to Kiyoomi.
It made him feel seen in a way that he had never been. His family had been overbearing and constantly hovering. The minimal friends he had were lost and confused. However, with Atsumu, he was patient and understanding, willing to just be there with Kiyoomi when things got too difficult to explain to someone who wasn’t going through the same thing.
“What hurts the most?” Atsumu laid out the kinesiology tape and compression garments, placing them on the bed.
Kiyoomi thought about it.
“My wrists. Fingers and ankles. My knees not as much.”
Nodding, Atsumu slipped on the wrist compressions, ankle braces and gently tapped the splints on his fingers. He softly massaged the tender muscles around his knee before wrapping supportive bandages around the joint. Once he had completed everything to Kiyoomi’s liking, Atsumu reached under the bed and grabbed the long pregnancy pillow. The two had had a minor disagreement about calling it what it was, and actually going through the effort of buying one to replace Kiyoomi’s old, ratty, and frankly uncomfortable body-length pillow.
(Atsumu obviously won by getting it for Kiyoomi’s birthday, and it’s rude to not accept a thoughtful present.)
With everything done that could be done, Atsumu snuggled next to Kiyoomi, the tub remaining open on the floor just in case of a sudden flare-up in his already hypersensitive body. He was acutely aware of not pushing the closeness like usual; he didn’t want Kiyoomi to be in more pain than he already was.
“Is there anythin’ else I can do?”
“Fucking cuddle me properly, Atsu.”
The painkillers seemed to be coming into effect, because the hurt was disappearing and he had to fight to keep his eyes open. Atsumu moved closer, head resting on the wall of pillow that surrounded Kiyoomi. He felt light, adoring kisses placed everywhere on his face, and quietly laughed.
“Atsu… stop. It tickles.”
“Aww, I was enjoying myself.” Atsumu’s pout was even more pronounced by the downright ethereal light he was glowing in.
Kiyoomi kissed the pout off his lover’s lips. He had always dreamed of doing that.
“Thank you, Atsumu.”
“‘M sorry, Omi.” Atsumu reached out, brushing the dry curls out of his eyes, twisting the strand around his finger. “‘M sorry ya have to deal with this shit.”
“Yeah. It is kind of shitty,” Kiyoomi stared at the man in front of him, so different from the scared young adult he once was. “But I have you, and that’s so much more than others have.”
Atsumu went quiet, just winding the locks on his hair. Kiyoomi just watched on, eyes drifting shut without much thought.
“Go to sleep, Omi. I’ll be here when ya wake up.”
“I love you.”
“I love ya, too.”
Kiyoomi heard the soothing sounds of Ponyo playing from their TV, and felt the warmth that radiated off Atsumu as he snuggled closer. After being with Atsumu for years now, he knew he wasn’t alone in his struggles.
Atsumu would always be there.
fin.