Work Text:
Sakusa curses, eyebrows pinching and mouth curling into a sneer under his mask as drops of coffee splatter on the front of his sweater. He turns and glares holes at the back of the guy he’d just narrowly avoided walking into, still too engrossed in his phone to notice the inconvenience he’d caused. Sakusa wants to yell at the prick, but he settles for wishing the asshole trips over something instead. A dog preferably, that comes out unharmed of course, with a mean owner who will give the guy a scolding Sakusa has no liberty of giving.
He runs the last steps towards the cafe, chastising himself- and the ignorant bastard and his phone, for being a few minutes late.
The bell chimes and he’s bombarded with a shrill welcome from the employee stationed by the door- Oh, was that his Tinnitus acting up?
He surveys the tables, hoisting the sling of his laptop bag higher on his shoulder, and finally finds one of his groupmate on a table tucked in the far corner of the cafe. Sakusa mentally praises the guy for the choice of seating.
He saunters over, “Sorry, I’m late.”
The guy raises his head up from his laptop, blonde hair bobbing under his hoodie at the movement, and looks up at Sakusa with eyes heavily adorned with dark circles- Are those designer bags? , “It’s fine, Sakusa-kun.”
Sakusa nods, “Where’s the other guy?”
The guy takes his phone in his hand, yawning a little, and if Sakusa gets the sudden urge to pluck it from his hands and throw the goddamned contraption away, at least he’s the only one who knows.
“Oh, he didn’t tell ya? He told me he’ll be late, said he’s busy or something,” Johnny Bravo says.
Sakusa decides to call him that because of the hair. Okay, and the build too, and partly because he can’t remember his name.
“Okay, let’s just start working on the project so he can finish the other parts when he gets here.”
Johnny Bravo nods, going back to working on his laptop.
Sakusa takes a wet wipe from his bag and cleans the vacant seat and the table twice, before sitting down and setting up his laptop. If Johnny Bravo has something to say about that, he doesn’t and Sakusa sends out a thanks to the universe for small mercies.
They finish two-thirds of the work in three hours, and by the time they’re done Sakusa wants to run a compaction roller over his back. He could also inhale the champion’s prize burger set looking so mouthwatering on the menu cover.
“Man, i’m starving.” Johnny Bravo stretches his hands over his head before checking his phone again. Sakusa, thankfully, no longer holds any grudges over the contraption, his thoughts focused on the empty space in his stomach begging to be filled.
“No wonder, it’s already after lunch. Wanna order?” Johnny Bravo looks at him and Sakusa merely nods. Johnny Bravo calls for a waiter and they order; a supreme meal set and mango milkshake for Johnny Bravo and champion’s prize burger set and a grande mocha frappuccino for Sakusa.
“Where’s the other guy already?” Sakusa asks. It’s their major project for psych 401 which constitutes 40% of their grade, so it would be totally reasonable for Sakusa to be annoyed, maybe even borderline infuriated, that a groupmate of his isn’t here for their agreed meet-up.
Johnny Bravo stops sipping his milkshake, holding up one finger as he scrolls through his phone, “One sec, lemme ask.”
Sakusa waits, he takes off his mask and sips his frap. The beverage does very little to satiate his hunger and he swears if their meals don’t arrive in ten minutes like their waiter said will be the waiting time, he will not be held responsible for a long ass review of the place- detailing the awful ambiance, lack of proper sanitation, and poor customer service. So what if the place is clean? and homey? and cute? No one who reads his review will ever know.
Johnny Bravo curses.
Sakusa looks up at him, raising a brow quizzically.
“He just replied. Says he can’t make it at all and that he sends good luck; hopes we finish the project.” Johnny Bravo says, muttering a few swears under his breath, and Sakusa wants to rage. But he composes himself, he would rather not go apeshit in a cafe, in view of the public eye. Those are reserved only for when he’s alone in his apartment, where only Teeter, his reversible octopus plushie gifted by Motoya, can bear witness.
“Did he tell you why? Was there an emergency?” Sakusa asks through gritted teeth, trying his very best to stay calm.
Johnny Bravo types and waits, there’s a chime and Sakusa watches Johnny Bravo’s face go from stupefaction to hesitation, eyes glancing at Sakusa for a moment before guiltily facing the screen of his phone again,
“What’s it say?” Sakusa pries.
“I don’t think ya wanna hear it.” Johnny Bravo says, and the hesitation and pleading undercurrent of his tone all the more intrigues Sakusa.
“Tell me.” Sakusa presses, because he just can't let that type of reaction go without knowing what made Johnny Bravo all skittish like that.
Johnny Bravo sighs, glancing at the message then Sakusa, before sliding his phone on the table, “See for yerself.”
Sakusa bends down to look at the screen, he does not dare pick up the phone- wary of whatever bacteria culture he’s sure is already growing on it by how Johnny Bravo casually places it wherever he wants.
“Don't tell Sakusa but I just didn’t want to work on the project loll, anyways I heard he gets high marks because the profs love him so why not just freeload?”
Sakusa stares at the message, unblinking, He reads it again. And again. And again. Just to be sure that the audacity the guy had is deserving of the rage that tides over Sakusa.
He wants to scream every foul word that he knows but all that comes out is a barely contained rage-filled, “What?”
Johnny Bravo sighs, rubbing his eyes with the cuffs of his hoodie, “I told ya, ya didn't wanna hear it.”
“Oh no, no. I wanna hear it, I wanna hear it so fucking bad.”
Hunger forgotten, Sakusa bursts.
“Who the fuck does he think he is? Is he someone important? Is his time more important than mine- than ours- that he just couldn’t be bothered to work on a project that his own fucking grade depends on? What? Does he think I’m some pushover who’s gonna let a self-righteous bastard leech off of him?” Sakusa all but shouts, hands waving wildly in the air.
Johnny Bravo merely watches, amusement dancing in his eyes and stays silent. Good, because if he replied, Sakusa would not care.
“No, I am not. If he thinks I’m putting his name on this project, then he’s sorely mistaken.” Sakusa begins typing roughly on his laptop, “One perk of actually making connections with professors- Yes, it’s called making connections asshole, is that your concerns get addressed instantly. Let me just write an email detailing the douchebag’s lack of contribution and let's see if he still passes this course. Jerk. Fucking asshole...”
Sakusa mutters a few more invectives.
“Hey, Johnny Bravo. What’s your name?” Sakusa looks up from his drafted email and Johnny Bravo’s eyes go wide over his milkshake.
“What?” He splutters.
“Your name.” Sakusa enunciates, and Johnny Bravo must have seen the rage still simmering in Sakusa’s tone because he pays no mind to the nickname and hastily utters a “Miya Atsumu”.
Sakusa types for a few more seconds, “And done. Send.”
He cracks his knuckles, watching the email get sent, and grins in satisfaction.
“Let’s see if he still passes this year.”
“Sheesh, yer scary Omi-kun.” Joh- Atsumu says, taking a bite of his sandwich. Their meals had apparently arrived in the middle of his fit and Sakusa feels a little sheepish at the prospect of their waiter having witnessed his outburst.
“What?” He asks, closing his laptop and sliding it to the side before pulling his plate towards him. His meal looks just as delicious as the display on the menu. He reconsiders the review he planned.
“That was scary, that whole thing ya did, fit, outburst, whatever that was. Ya really went apeshit there.” Atsumu laughs.
Sakusa stills as he unwraps his fork, “Excuse me?”
“No, I don’t mean it like that. I just meant, it was scary, yeah. I just- I’m just glad I actually came today.” Atsumu hastily placates him and Sakusa grimaces at the sight of half-chewed food in his mouth.
“You better be, and don’t talk with your mouth full.” Sakusa slices a piece of his burger, stabbing it with a fork before eating.
“Is that how ya eat a burger, Omi-kun?” Atsumu asks, slack-jawed, like Sakusa had just said he eats raw eggs for fun. At least he actually swallowed before talking this time.
“Yes, and don’t call me that.”
“Oh, Omi-kun? Nah, I think I will.” Atsumu continues, “ ‘sides, has a nice ring to it, don’t ya think?”
“When did I agree you could use my first name? Let alone a nickname?” Sakusa asks, leveling Atsumu with a stare in the hopes of intimidating him into dropping that atrocious cutesy nickname. But, Atsumu merely grins, undeterred by Sakusa’s tactic.
“Well, ya did just call me Johnny Bravo so if ya get to call me a nickname then I ought to have one for ya as well.” Sakusa wants to wipe the grin off of Atsumu’s face, instead he shovels a huge portion of burger in his mouth.
“I don’t like it.” Sakusa utters, too tired to actually care, his earlier outburst draining whatever energy was left in him. Atsumu merely hums in response.
They eat in silence and finish the rest of the project with minimal exchanges, both too drained at having to do extra work. They finish two hours later and begin packing their stuff.
Sakusa slings his bag on his right shoulder, hooking his mask properly before facing Atsumu who’s putting on his backpack.
“Is it alright for you that I took his name off the project? Though it’s a bit late for your permission and even if you say no I probably still won’t put it. Sorry.”
Atsumu chuckles, “It’s alright with me.”
Sakusa nods and begins walking towards the entrance, “Glad to know we’re on the same page.”
Atsumu catches up to him, walking by his side and grinning at him, “More like I’m terrified not to be on the same page as you, Omi.” Atsumu laughs, “But, sure, I don't appreciate that he’s making us do everything and expecting that he’ll still be graded for our work.”
Atsumu reaches out and opens the door for Sakusa before he could pull his sleeves down his palm to open it. The gesture catches him off-guard.
“Thanks,” Sakusa says. “You know, you’re actually not so bad, Miya.”
They stand outside the cafe.
It’s raining. And Sakusa curses. In his haste earlier, he had forgotten to bring his umbrella. Just his luck.
Atsumu smiles at him, shrugging his backpack off of one shoulder, “Back at ya, Omi-omi. Except for the whole fit earlier.”
Sakusa feels heat creep up the back of his neck in embarrassment, “Shut up, I was hungry and cranky.”
Atsumu laughs, procuring an umbrella and opening it, “Yeah, yeah I know.”
A few moments pass.
“Want me to walk ya home?”
“Yeah, okay. Sure.”