Atsumu is being helpful by uttering complaints about every single suggestion. It’s only when Kiyoomi realizes that the butterflies in his stomach have been on a rampage all day, does the epiphany hit him like a brick.
With a loud, exasperated sigh, Kiyoomi puts the remote down.
With a loud, exasperated sigh, Kiyoomi puts the remote down.
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“Miya,” Kiyoomi says even though he hasn’t called him that in ages, “shut up for a moment.”
“Don’t ya call me Miya, ya bastard.”
The flutter in Kiyoomi’s chest is another sign for how fucked he is.
First, Atsumu’s eyes widen comically large. Then, he squints and reminds Kiyoomi, “Ya’ve told me I’m a jerk three times today.”
Kiyoomi simply nods. “And I stand by that. It seems that I like you despite of that.”
“Hold up,” Atsumu says, “Do ya
“Despite of that,” Kiyoomi says a beat too quickly.
The smirk turns into a full-blown grin at this point. Atsumu leans in closer, dangerously so.
Kiyoomi keens at the insult like others at praise. “Fuck off,” he bites.
“You fuck off,” Atsumu laughs as he grabs a fistful of Kiyoomi’s shirt and pulls him in for a searing kiss.
/fin