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Atsumu is rudely awoken in the middle of the night by a crashing noise and a muffled curse.
He frowns, running an annoyed hand through his hair. Is it a burglar? Because Atsumu can’t be assed enough to stop them. He’s tired. He has practice early tomorrow. If anything, Shouyou can stop them—
Oh. It’s probably just Shouyou.
Grumbling to himself, Atsumu shoves his blanket off, planting his feet on the cold tiles and shuddering. As he lumbers towards the door, he vaguely hopes Shouyou didn’t break anything.
It’s been a few months since Atsumu and Shouyou started rooming together. Mostly for convenience, and because rent was way cheaper if they shared it than whatever they could get alone.
Atsumu was hesitant at first, as someone who’s had enough of sharing a place with someone else for all his life. But Shouyou quickly proved to be a fantastic roommate, making their arrangement totally worth it. Even on days where they don’t have training, Shouyou would wake up before the sun rose to run, and be back with breakfast by the time Atsumu’s eyes even open. He’s clean, too. When Atsumu jokingly asked how he’s so perfect, Shouyou spent a good few minutes talking about his own roommate in Brazil and how it ‘trained’ him.
So he’s responsible, earnest, and takes care of Atsumu in ways he didn’t expect. If anything, Atsumu doesn’t do enough to repay him.
When Atsumu exits the room, he finds a soft light coming from the kitchen. He pokes his head around the corner, eyes searching, and spots Shouyou standing in the centre with an unopened box of cereal, frowning at it like it’s killed his entire lineage.
Atsumu clears his throat. “Shouyou-kun.”
Shouyou jumps, pointing the cereal box threateningly in his direction. He only relaxes when Atsumu walks out further, his hands in the air in mock surrender.
“Oh.” Shouyou blinks. “Did I wake you?”
“Yes.” Atsumu doesn’t bother sugarcoating it. He goes closer until he’s standing by the island, on the opposite side of Shouyou, and leans over. “Dude. It’s past midnight. We have practice tomorrow.”
Shouyou’s lips purse, faux innocence covering his expression. Atsumu isn’t a cop, so he’s not going to scold Shouyou for having bad habits, but it’s kind of cute that Shouyou is looking at him like that, as if he could get away with anything. Atsumu might let him.
Ah, wow. It must be the late night atmosphere talking. Atsumu doesn’t usually think things like that.
“I know that, but I got hungry. Did you know that the milk in our fridge is expired?”
Atsumu glances in the direction of said fridge. Right. They haven’t done groceries in a good while.
“So yer eating cereal dry?”
“I didn’t want to cook in case I woke you up… But I guess that’s not a worry anymore. Do you want anything?”
Atsumu hesitates. He should really get back to sleep. It’ll ease his regret tomorrow morning, when he is inevitably woken up by his loud ass alarms and miserably forced out of bed.
“Sure,” he finds himself saying instead, drawn in by the quiet timelessness of the night.
Shouyou grins and reaches for the drawer where they keep their pots and pans. Then he grabs some oil, a box of pancake mix, the carton of eggs…
“Pancakes?” Atsumu asks. This feels like way too much of an effort for just a late night snack. “Really?”
“There’s also strawberries and blueberries in the fridge! If you wash them, we can add those,” Shouyou says, as if Atsumu is complaining about the plainness of pancakes rather than the choice of food as a whole.
Instead of bringing it up, Atsumu just sighs and heads to the fridge, searching for the boxes of fruits like Shouyou asked.
As he busies himself with prepping the fruits, he hears Shouyou humming to himself. He glances at him from time to time, just via the corner of his eye.
There’s a soft, easygoing smile on Shouyou’s face. His eyes are lit by the kitchen lights, yellow and dim, and his hair is a mess, probably because he rolled out of bed not too long ago. The shirt he’s wearing hangs loosely on his frame—Atsumu recognises it as one of Shouyou’s gym shirts he used to wear to practice, except this one is so old it’s fraying at the edges and has a hole on a sleeve, so now he keeps it as pyjamas.
He looks… simple. Very simple, but striking all the same.
Maybe it’s the vividness of his hair, or the curve of his smile, or the smattering of freckles across his face that he claims to have gotten from Brazil, but Atsumu finds himself captivated by the mere sight.
He only snaps out of his daze when there’s a sharp pain on his finger. He yelps, looking down to see he’s nicked his finger with the knife he was using to cut the strawberries. Shouyou’s head snaps towards him at the sound, but Atsumu waves off his worry.
“Just a cut,” he assures, grabbing some tissue.
Shouyou sets the bowl of pancake mix down. “Is it deep? It’ll affect your playing tomorrow.”
Atsumu pauses from where he’s pressing against his wound. “Was my volleyball skills really the first thing ya thought of? I’m hurt.”
Shouyou cracks a little smile at his obvious sarcasm. “I’ll get you a plaster!”
He dashes off, then returns at the speed of light, holding a plaster up to Atsumu’s face. He squints at it. It’s a bright pink Hello Kitty one.
“From my sister, actually,” Shouyou says as he takes Atsumu's hand from him, tearing the plaster and wrapping it around his cut carefully.
To tell the truth, it wasn’t that bad of an injury. Atsumu has had worse just from playing volleyball. But Shouyou treats it like a fragile, wounded animal anyway, his touch so gentle that Atsumu’s heart flares up.
“Sit down,” Shouyou says, nudging him towards a stool. “I’ll finish up.”
“Huh? I’m not dyin’, Shouyou-kun, I’ll be fine.”
“Go!” Shouyou pushes him again, a little more insistently, and Atsumu stumbles along.
He drops into a stool with a grunt. But still, Atsumu must put up a bit of a fight. For the sake of his ego, and his poor heart.
“It’s really not that bad—” he starts, gulping when Shouyou looks up and meets his eye.
“I can’t have you in pain around me,” he disagrees. “Who will toss to me tomorrow if your injury worsens?”
“Wow.”
Shouyou bursts into laughter, patting Atsumu’s shoulder. “I’m kidding! But really, I got it from here, so just relax, okay?”
Atsumu sighs, resting his elbows on the counter. “Fine, fine. Get to work, then.”
As Shouyou scurries off to finish the rest of the pancakes, Atsumu watches him with a smile reserved only for himself to know.
“Ya seriously went all out,” Atsumu says, unable to believe his eyes when he sees what’s on the plate set in front of him.
Two fluffy pancakes, topped with blueberries, strawberries, some sprinkled icing sugar, and maple syrup drizzled all over. It almost looks too pretty to eat, but Atsumu’s stomach grumbles at the sight, and he doesn’t regret being woken up in the middle of the night anymore if this is what he’s greeted with.
“I don’t do anything halfway,” Shouyou replies proudly, sliding into the seat opposite of Atsumu. He has a similar plate in front of him, though his is noticeably less decorated, the fruits just piled up on the side rather than artfully placed around the pancakes.
Cute. He put more effort into Atsumu’s. It makes Atsumu’s heart swell, at the same time he wonders why he’s even noticing things like this.
“Let’s eat,” he says instead, taking the offered fork and knife from Shouyou with a muttered thank you.
“I swear, I’ve got them—”
“Ya say that about everythin’,” Atsumu scolds, dragging Shouyou away from the sink with a tight grip on the back of his shirt. “Leave it. I’ll do them tomorrow before we have to go for practice.”
“But I can just do them now!”
“The dishes aren’t that needy.” Atsumu’s other hand comes to grab Shouyou’s chin, physically turning his eyes away from the sink. Instead, they meet Atsumu’s, round and pleading, and Atsumu almost crumbles under that stare. Again. He seriously needs to get a hold on himself. “Go to bed before I make ya.”
“You’re so bossy,” Shouyou complains, yelping when Atsumu pokes his side. “I’m not even tired!”
That makes Atsumu pause and sigh. It’s true, though. He’s not sleepy enough to head back to bed either. It’s probably all the sugar they just ate. Getting enough sleep before practice is looking more and more like a faraway fantasy dream now.
“Fine. Then stay in my room until ya are tired,” Atsumu says before he really thinks.
Unfortunately, he can’t take it back. Shouyou’s eyes light up like he’s just been granted the keys to the universe. It would simply be evil for Atsumu to deny him now. “Okay! We should watch a movie! Yamaguchi was telling me about this new drama that made him cry for hours—”
A few moments later, they’re in Atsumu’s room, next to each other and leaning on some propped up pillows. Atsumu’s laptop glows so bright it burns his eyes when he turns it on, and Shouyou laughs at him for his momentary suffering. The blanket is laid haphazardly over their bodies, laptop positioned a little further down.
Vaguely, Atsumu thinks about how he can feel every wave of Shouyou’s body heat from every inch that they’re pressed against each other. Out loud, he says, “If ya fall asleep here, I’m not carryin’ ya back.”
“I won’t,” Shouyou insists, already snuggling with Atsumu’s stuffed fox plush. A birthday gift from Suna way back in high school, a few stitches on its tail from an accident. Shouyou hugs it like it’s perfect anyway.
The movie starts a while later, and Atsumu settles back on the pillows. He eyes the screen for a while, watching the opening scene play out—some fancy Italian music and a diner, but he finds himself distracted quickly after.
He’s not sure what it is. Atsumu’s gaze simply drifts, landing on Shouyou instead, who is staring at the screen so intently you’d think a volleyball Olympics match was playing instead. His face lights up with different colours whenever the movie’s scene changes, and Atsumu gets the urge to reach out and pat his hair or something, just to have Shouyou’s intense attention on him instead.
He’s looking at Shouyou a lot tonight. Must be something in the air.
Atsumu is not sure when it happens, or who does it first, but eventually, he dozes off. He only wakes up when the ending credits of the movie are playing, and he grimaces at how much it hurts his eyes before he realises that there’s a heavy weight next to him.
When Atsumu turns his head, he finds Shouyou nestled under his arm and snoring softly, the fox plush still hugged tightly in his hands.
Atsumu’s heart rate spikes immediately, so fast that he thinks he’s having a heart attack. He clutches his chest, as if that would calm his heart down, and as quietly as possible, shuts his laptop off and puts it on the drawer.
“…Shouyou-kun,” he whispers, throat dry.
Shouyou doesn’t budge. Atsumu tightens his grip on his shirt and gives up.
It’s not like he minds sharing a bed with Shouyou. They’ve done it before, when their team travels for away games and they stay at hostels that require them to share.
But he’s never had Shouyou this close before, and he’s never felt such sickening pleasure at being the one Shouyou feels safe enough cuddling up against, like his presence is the greatest comfort in the world.
Fuck. A quick check of his phone tells Atsumu that it’s past three in the night already. He should just shut his eyes and go back to sleep. This is no time to be figuring out these fuzzy, mushy feelings that he can’t even name.
Shouyou suddenly shifts, sending a wave of panic over Atsumu’s tense frame. But all he does is bury his face deeper into Atsumu’s side, cheek pressed against his chest, and Atsumu shields his burning face with a hand even though no one is around to spot him.
They both wake up late the next morning.
It feels impossible. Between Shouyou’s natural, early-rising habit and Atsumu’s five alarms that he sets so this doesn’t happen, neither of them wake up until it’s well past the sunrise. Atsumu’s back is sore and his arm aches when he does open his eyes, and he feels Shouyou grumbling next to him too, stuck in a morning daze.
“Fuck,” Atsumu says eloquently when he hears an insistent ringing. Someone’s calling him.
He picks up without thinking or even looking at the caller ID, bringing his phone to his ears. “Hello?”
“Miya,” comes a familiar, deep voice. “Everything okay? You’re not usually late. Is Hinata with you?”
Huh?
Atsumu rubs at his eyes until his vision clears up and takes a peek at the clock, only to see it inching towards nine. Practice started almost an hour ago.
Oh, shit. “We’re fine,” Atsumu says, scrambling for an excuse. His throat itches, probably just from a lack of water, but it’s what helps him conjure up the excuse. “But we’re not feelin’ well. Think I caught somethin’ over the weekend. Passed it to Shouyou-kun by accident.”
“Oh no.” Meian sounds genuinely sympathetic, and Atsumu winces. “Is he there as well?”
“Asleep, but yeah.”
“With you? No wonder you’re passing illnesses to each other,” Meian laughs. Atsumu laughs back nervously. He didn’t realise how that came across. “Okay, I’ll let Coach know. Feel better soon, the both of you.”
“Thanks,” Atsumu croaks.
Once Meian ends the call, Atsumu grabs Shouyou’s shoulder and shakes him, hissing, “Shouyou-kun. Wake up.”
To his credit, Shouyou’s a much lighter sleeper. His eyes blink open, bleary, until they catch onto Atsumu’s frame. He says, “We’re so fuckin’ late.”
“I haven’t had that good of a sleep in forever,” Shouyou replies through a yawn. “Wait, we’re late?!”
Atsumu shows him his phone. The colour practically drains from Shouyou’s face.
“It’s fine,” Atsumu says when he sees the panic setting in his eyes. “I called in sick. Said I caught somethin’ and passed it to ya, and so we both couldn’t make it.”
“So we’ll miss practice?” Shouyou asks through a pout.
“Well, I can’t take it back.” Atsumu drags a hand down his face. “Sorry, I panicked. But, uh, we can train together at the public park nearby, if you want. Then we won’t miss out.”
That seems to appease Shouyou for a bit, his shoulders dropping in relief.
Atsumu reaches for his phone again and unlocks it, opening up the group chat first, where a hoard of messages are waiting.
—
MSBY Black Jackals 🐾
Inunaki
> five hundred yen says they were fucking and overslept
Barnes
> Bro 😭
Inunaki
> hinata-kun is NEVER late you think atsumu-kun isn’t involved somehow??
> plus have u seen the way atsumu-kun stares at hinata-kun in the lockers whenjdkfjf
> IMWMRNDKDJ
Barnes
> Tomas just stole his phone if anyone’s wondering
Bokuto
> To be fair, Tsum-Tsum has only been late once!
> And it wasn’t by a whole hour!
Meian
> I’ve called him. They’re both fine
Inunaki
> PHONE RETRIEVED
> so did they do the nastyyyy
Meian
> They’re sick
Inunaki
> …because they did do the nasty?
Bokuto
> WHAT???
> Get well soon!!!! @Miya @Hinata
Miya
> woooh boy
> hello hello thanks for yer concern
> ????? WHY IS EVERYONE ASSUMIN’ I DID SOMETHIN’
Sakusa
> i don’t think you want to know
Meian
> 👌 And I have informed Coach as well
> Take care
Inunaki
> so nobody’s going to answer my question
—
“There, all settled,” Atsumu says, tossing his phone aside. He didn’t backread any of the messages, but he has a feeling that, to quote Kiyoomi, he doesn’t want to know.
Shouyou sighs, slumping back onto bed. “I don’t know how I feel about lying, but I guess it’s just this once. I can’t believe we both overslept!”
Atsumu shrugs, carding a hand through his hair. “I blame ya for wanting to watch that movie.”
“I didn’t even see it through, I’m pretty sure I fell asleep halfway.” Shouyou peers at him. “You’re too comfortable of a pillow, Atsumu-san.”
“Yeah?” Atsumu replies absently. “We can do it again if ya want.”
He pauses, cheeks growing aflame when he realises how that sounds. Not that Atsumu minds having Shouyou next to him all night at all—in fact, he’d very much like to do it again.
Something hits him just then. Perhaps it’s the daylight seeping through his windows and finally providing clarity for his hazy, fuzzy feelings, but holy shit—
He likes Shouyou.
He likes their domestic routine, the way Shouyou laughs and presses up against him without a care in the world, his earnestness and dependable personality—all of it. Atsumu is already lucky to be rooming with him, getting to have all of Shouyou’s little moments to himself, but the fact that his greedy heart only wants more makes his gut twist uncomfortably.
“If I want?” Shouyou repeats curiously.
Shouyou is more perceptive than people give him credit for, especially in regards to others’ feelings. Atsumu knows this, but actually being subjected to Shouyou’s knowing gaze makes his heart pound against his chest and his fingers curl into the blanket nervously.
“The— The sleepin’ together thing.” Atsumu winces. “Not that we have to! It was just nice, obviously, I mean, ya think that too, right?”
Damn it. This is embarrassing. Why is Atsumu losing his cool?
…And why is Shouyou grinning like he loves it?
“Okay,” he sing-songs, trailing a finger up Atsumu’s arm and making him shudder. “If Atsumu-san says so, then I guess he must be right. I’ll continue staying the night.”
Atsumu frowns, poking his cheek. “Ya sound like yer bullyin’ me.”
“Eh? But I’m agreeing with you.”
Atsumu pokes him again, harder. Shouyou is smiling so big that his cheekbones are practically shining.
He could stare at him forever.
“Oh, I just remembered,” Shouyou says suddenly, pulling Atsumu’s finger away from himself, “didn’t you say that you’d wash the dishes from last night before practice?”
Atsumu freezes. He glares when Shouyou just blinks innocently at him.
“See if I let you in my bedroom again,” he gripes as he pushes himself off the mattress, heading to the kitchen with Shouyou laughing behind him the whole time.
Yeah. Atsumu likes him a lot. Way too much for his own good, but he supposes he can deal with it for the time being, if it means continuing to have Shouyou by his side in this way.