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“Okay,” Atsumu says, gulping a shot of tequila. It made a loud thunk as he set it down. “Okay. I’m ready. Hit me.”
Suna’s smile holds a decidedly foxy tilt to it. “Wedding vows. Off the top of your head.”
Atsumu splutters. “𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵.”
Suna’s eyes twinkle. “For when you propose to Kiyoomi.”
“The fact that you assume I won’t propose first is insulting,” Kiyoomi chimes in with a level tone, nursing a shot the way one might a glass of wine.
Atsumu’s head whips in his direction. “You’d propose first? No way.”
“Do we really want to have this conversation now?” Kiyoomi sighs, turning to face his boyfriend of five years.
“Spare us,” Osamu pleads. “C’mon Tsumu, how hard can it be? Ya wax poetics about him all the time.”
“But,” Atsumu squawks. “This is different!”
“Is it?” Osamu sounds unconvinced.
“You’re gonna lose.” Suna’s wicked smile is infuriating.
“Okay, okay!” Atsumu exasperates, swirling in his seat to face Kiyoomi. “Off the top of my head?”
They all nod.
“Okay,” Atsumu says again, steeling himself. “Uh… okay. Okay. This is embarrassing,” he mutters to himself, looking down with red cheeks. “Omi… I don’t have to tell ya I love ya, because I’m sure you get sick of hearing me say it so often. I don’t mean to make it any less meaningful, except I don’t have any other eloquent or profound words to express it… I know I’m a handful. I know I make ya put up with a lot. I know we have our fights, and I know we got off on shaky grounds. But I also know that you make the world spin around for me,” Atsumu sucks in a breath, now on a roll. “And that life wouldn’t make sense without ya—that it wouldn’t be half as meaningful without ya by my side. So I have to ask, would you spend yer life with me, knowing me the way I am? Would you let me love you for as long as we live? Cause I would, Omi. I’d never been more certain of anything else.”
Osamu is gaping. Suna looks impressed. And Kiyoomi? He kind of wants to cry. It’s probably the alcohol.
Two heads swivel his way.
Kiyoomi swallows. “I would,” he finds himself saying. “Hey, Atsumu, you know I would right?”
Atsumu gasps. “You’re not supposed to say yes now!! That’s such a half-baked proposal!!! No way, Omi, i’m gettin’ down on one knee. I’m planning the wedding of yer dream and I’m certainly gonna write something poetic enough to make ya cry. Save yer I do’s!”
God, Kiyoomi loves him with the kind of ache that would kill lesser men.
Atsumu turns to Suna, eyes alight with a determined fire. “Ya know what? Ya have to confess yer undying love to Samu just for that.”
“My undying love,” Suna parrots, unimpressed.
“Yes,” Atsumu insists. “Surely ya can summon an iota of sensitivity in yer cold, dead heart.”
“Hey, my heart is not cold or dead, after all I do love this bastard,” Suna points his thumb at Osamu who smacks him.
“Who’re ya callin a bastard?” Osamu pulls him into a headlock, drunk laughter spilling from Suna’s lips.
“Okay, okay,” Suna says, extracting himself. “You think I can’t do romantic? I can absolutely do romantic.”
Both Kiyoomi and Atsumu share doubtful looks. “I never heard ya say I love you once, Sunarin.”
“That’s because I do it behind closed doors you absolute heathen,” Suna replies blithely. “Unlike someone who screams it off rooftops.”
“My love is not shy or weak,” Atsumu sticks his tongue out.
Suna huffs an annoyed breath through his nose. “If you think what I feel for this idiot is anything close to shy or weak, then you’re absolutely dumber than you look, Miya.”
“Okay, simmer down,” Kiyoomi intercepts before it can devolve into a brawl. “Just say your damn piece already, Rintarou.”
Suna sighs again, the noise theatrical. “Let’s see…” he props his chin on his upturned palm and glances at Osamu who watches him expectantly.
“I wouldn’t call my love undying,” he decides. “We don’t need to. It’s more of an enduring love. Even when we hate each other, we love each other. And even when we’re apart, I know we belong together. I know you’re the one because even when you’re insufferable and stubborn and at times crazy, you have a space in my chest carved just for you. I don’t need you to be perfect, and I know you don’t expect me to be either. There’s nothing picturesque about us. We’re not meant to be perfect. But we are comfortable. And what we have feels like home. And home has never been about pretence. So I know you’re the one. Because coming back to you feels like putting down my luggage after a long day. It feels like a warm shower. It feels like a tasty meal. Most of all, it’s the most profound way I ever experience belonging.”
Atsumu’s jaw almost hits the floor. Even Kiyoomi is shocked.
Osamu seems to have been rendered speechless.
“What the fuck,” Atsumu finally says. “Where have you been hiding 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵.”
“Behind closed damned doors,” Suna snaps though it lacks heat. “Do you also wanna hear what else we get up to there?”
“No frickin way,” Atsumu cringes. “Ya can keep that to yerself, thanks.”
Suna turns to Kiyoomi. “Okay, lover boy. Your turn to play.”
“Oh dear,” Kiyoomi mutters, polishing off his drink. “Let’s hear it.”
“I want to hear about my hypothetical nieces and nephews,” Suna decides. “Surely you’ve thought about family. Maybe you’ve even fantasised about what they’d look like, and what you’d name them.”
Kiyoomi’s face flushes. “Out of all the goddamned questions.”
“None of them would make your face such an interesting colour,” Suna sniggers, which—fair enough. “Spill. Girls or boys?”
“Ideally both,” Kiyoomi coughs. “Maybe a boy and two girls?”
Atsumu looks at him with wide eyes. “We’re having three?”
“Ideally,” Kiyoomi stresses through a raging blush. “He’s asking about hypothetical children from my fantasy land. So yes, three.”
Atsumu’s mouth shapes around an ‘o’.
“As for names, I’m not sure. I like Akane. I haven’t thought further than that,” Kiyoomi adds. “I hope they’re the perfect split between both of us, but I can’t lie, I wish they’d all get Atsumu’s eyes.”
Atsumu’s lips quiver. “My eyes?” he croaks.
“Mhm,” Kiyoomi agrees, looking at his boyfriend. “They’re the prettiest amber-honey in the sun. It’s kind of dazzling, actually.”
“Aw, yer disgusting in the cutest way ever,” Osamu croons. “Tsumu really landed himself a smitten one.”
Atsumu sniffs a little. “Omi-omi, yer gonna make me cry.”
Kiyoomi pulls him into a side hug. “Pull yourself together, you’re gonna embarrass us,” Kiyoomi cautions, though he sounds incredibly fond.
After a beat, Kiyoomi faces Osamu. “And we circle back to you.”
“Unfortunately,” Osamu quips.
“I genuinely don’t have an embarrassing enough question,” Kiyoomi admits. “I don’t know. Tell us about how you confessed?”
Osamu releases a heartfelt groan. “That’s embarrassing enough.”
Suna chuckles in turn. “It’s not that bad.”
“Rin, I cried on you.” Osamu’s face twists into a pained wince, no doubt recalling the confession.
“Only because I said I liked you back. I thought it was kinda sweet,” Suna croons.
“It was humiliating,” Osamu grumbles under his breath. He directs his next words at his audience. “I pined. For an embarrassingly long time. Tsumu knows. Three years of being lovesick makes you stupid. So I decided that I can no longer live like that and that it was time to confess. I chose the worst possible time. Post game, high on adrenaline, sweaty as fuck. I was shaking, and this bastard looks so pretty when he’s riding a good win. So, instead of saying anything eloquent, I say ‘you make me want to punch you in the face.’”
Kiyoomi chokes on a laugh. “That’s amazing.”
“Oh, wait till ya hear the rest of it. We grapple. In the showers. Using towels to spank each other. I even slip on my ass once or twice, and I accidentally bust Rin’s lips. And then when we’re both on the floor, completely winded, I feeling-vomit all over the place. It was disgusting.”
“I was very much charmed,” Suna deadpans.
Osamu swats at him. “And after I was done, all he said was: ‘wow.’ Then I started to panic, and he’s an asshole, so he let me stew in it for a little bit before he returned my confession and by then I was so relieve I started crying.”
“Samu yer hopeless,” Atsumu marvels.
It’s probably an understatement. All of them are hopeless when it comes to each other.
People in love always are.