He wanted to question how the hell he got here, but Kita would probably give him some deadpan answer like, “You took the train from Osaka.” So instead he kept his mouth shut because holy shit Kita Shinsuke just crawled into his lap and he was not fuckin’ around (well he was kinda fuckin’ around, but he wasn’t, y’know, fuckin’ around about it). Atsumu got about five seconds to process having Kita on him like this before he was being kissed like nobody’s business. Who the hell taught Kita to kiss? In all his dirtiest, most depraved fantasies, he’d imagined Kita as a pure little prude who didn’t even know what kissing was. How was he so damn wrong?
Despite the shock, Atsumu wasn’t about to be shown up. He drug his hands up from Kita’s knees to grab hold of his thighs. Goddamn, he had nice thighs. Atsumu had known that in high school (thank you volleyball shorts) but he never thought he’d get to touch them. After getting his fill of legs, he moved on to at last put hands on Kita’s perfect, firm ass. Holy shit. His brain finally gave up on trying to understand what was happening and let his libido take control as he pulled Kita forward until he was sitting right across Atsumu’s hips. He heard himself groan a little at the movement, but he also heard Kita let out a little noise that absolutely drove him wild with the need to hear it again.
And that was just the first time.
Turns out that the 30-minute train ride between Osaka and Kobe was really easy––criminally easy––to make. So it was no big deal if he visited Kita occasionally, ‘Samu was just being weird about it. A weekly visit was literally fine, it was only 30 minutes! And yeah , maybe weekly turned into like 3 nights a week but whatever, MSBY was payin’ him the big bucks now, he could take a quick trip sometimes. He never missed practices or games, or even press conferences or whatever other dumb shit they wanted him to do ‘cause it was only 30 minutes. Traffic through downtown could take 30 minutes to slog through some days!
And it’s not like he was imposing, he never crashed there or fucked with Kita’s day-to-day. Kita even came the other way sometimes and, for his brother’s information, he was a very gracious host, a fucking delight. He also did not appreciate Osamu’s view of the situation, thinking Atsumu was “taking advantage” of Kita-san and “abusing his kindness.” He should read some of the fuckin’ texts Kita sent him! He’d learned very quickly to not open them at practice unless he wanted to completely embarrass himself. There were never any pictures or anything (god no, he would probably actually die, and Kita had a shitty flip phone because he was like 80 years old), but Kita was a master of getting in Atsumu’s head with just words.
So yes, they could be very suggestive. But even worse? Was that usually they were just...sweet, thoughtful things that made him want to squeeze something. Those were the worst ones because they made him doubt. Every time Osamu interrogated him about it he said the same things: It was just physical! They were just friends! Friends who fooled around a little (a lot)! Because if he thought too much about the “Good morning” and “Did you eat a good lunch?” texts that suggested nothing but chaste affection he’d go crazy. It had taken him all of high school to get over his ridiculous crush on his senpai (Osamu would say he’d never gotten over it but what the fuck did he know), he wasn’t about to go back to trailing after Kita Shinsuke again (Osamu would say that’s exactly what he was doing right now, but really what the fuck did he know, fuck him).
But it was fine! It was chill. Atsumu was completely in control of the situation.
Until that one Saturday night.
MSBY had a rare Sunday off, so he’d given some bullshit excuse to bail on dinner with Bokuto after practice and gotten to the station as quickly as the godforsaken downtown traffic would let him. He’d even splurged a little (he was a fuckin’ pro athlete, he could treat himself) and got a ticket for the 13-minute shinkansen instead of the usual train, he would make good use of those extra 17 minutes at the other end.
Kita had met him at the station with a little smile and a hug like he always did, though he’d been surprised that Atsumu was early. He should have known things were gonna go downhill when they both held on for just a little too long. Long enough for even stone-faced Kita Shinsuke to go a bit pink in the cheeks.
“You on the menu?” That earned him another little smile and a breathy laugh, which just served to make his heart thump painfully against his ribs. So much for trying to have the upper hand on the flirting.
“I meant for food,” Kita started to lead the way back to his little studio apartment, “But both’s good with me.” Atsumu nearly tripped over his own feet, rushing to follow.
The night progressed much like many of their nights together. Kita made dinner (proper dinner, he called it, unlike what Atsumu usually threw together for himself at home) while Atsumu yapped his ear off about any- and everything. Then, when Atsumu got bored helping with the dishes the mood would shift. He’d slip behind Kita and trap him up against the counter, kissing up and down the side of his neck to the tune of Kita’s sighs and gasps. And tonight, they had 17 extra minutes.
When Atsumu wrestled his phone from his forgotten pants later, he realized they would’ve needed more like 30 or 40 extra minutes because he’d just missed the last train.
“What?” Kita said, voice husky, and wrapped in a blanket to defend himself from the cold air while he started a pot of water for tea.
“I missed the fuckin’ train.”
“I missed it, too.” Atsumu had to process that response––coupled with the little smirk Kita’s got on––for a minute.
“ Wow, never woulda thought Mr. Proper Kita Shinsuke would make jokes about fuckin’.”
“I’m multidimensional.” And he looked so content and comfortable (and Atsumu’s the one who got him like that) that Atsumu couldn’t help but get his arms around him again.
“Yeah you are.”
“That don’t make sense.”
“The hell it don’t!”
“Sure,” Atsumu rested his chin on Kita’s shoulder, his happy, foggy (stupid, said the lil’ Osamu that lived in the back of his head) brain mulling over and over, “It alright if I stay tonight? I know I usually don’t but I’ll be outta yer way in the mornin’.”
“Don’t fuss ‘bout all that. You can always stay,” Kita paused, weighing his words against his teeth before he spoke, “I’d like you to stay.”
Atsumu had to swallow the rising confusion (denial, said the lil’ Osamu that lived in the back of his head) stuck in his throat with a gulp of tea. Kita... wanted him to stay? That couldn’t be right. So he tried to laugh it off, “Got a couch hidden somewhere for me to sleep on?”
“You don’t wanna sleep in bed with me?” Kita’s eyes were piercing through every last paper excuse he could put up.
“N-No!” Volume, Atsumu, holy shit, “Uh, no. I do. Wanna sleep with you.”
Kita raised an eyebrow, “Again? Already?” Atsumu’s answering squawk made him chuckle.
“Lookit you! With the sex jokes! Granny would be so scandalized!”
And that was how Atsumu had ended up with Kita fuckin’ Shinsuke snoring away on his chest (not really snoring, Kita was too perfect for that apparently). He’d started on the far side of Kita’s little bed before being corrected (“You’re gonna wake up hurtin’ if you sleep all tense over there like that.”) and now his nose was filled with the smell of Kita’s shampoo (fuckin’ tea tree or something). He’d never been simultaneously so comfortable and so stressed at the same time.
Did “just friends” really do this kinda stuff? He felt his pulse racing in his neck while he went through the night step by step. What the hell was going on tonight? In the few months they’d been doing this, he’d never spent the night and they’d never cuddled. And they sure as hell never did any of this in high school, he’d felt lucky (dare he say blessed) to get the occasional head pat or high five from their icy captain. If only his 15-year-old self could see him now, the little bastard’s head would explode. He kinda felt like his head was gonna explode right now.
“Atsumu.” He just about jumped out of his skin. When did Kita wake up? “I can hear you thinkin’ from here.”
“Give a guy a warnin’ next time!”
“You’re chewin’ on somethin’. What is it?”
“Uhhh, nothin’! Don’t know what yer talkin’ about.” Kita sat up a bit to look him dead in the eyes. He had to stay strong, if he so much as flinched Kita would find him out, would read his mind and discover all the mushy embarrassing things he was thinking about. After a beat or two, Kita laid back down on his shoulder.
“Didn’t take you for a coward. If y’got somethin’ to say, just say it.” He felt his pride rearing up. Dammit. Kita-san really knew which buttons to press, didn’t he? Fuck it. Worst case, Kita’d squash him like a roach and maybe he’d finally put this shit behind him. Best case...
“I’m in love with you.”
“I––Wait, wait, wait, whaddaya mean still?!”
“Well, weren’t you in love with me in high school?”
“You cried a lot when I graduated. Like, a lot .”
“Why you gotta be so mean t’me!” Kita chuckled and sat up again, eyes soft.
“I think you can take it,” he said, voice full of something Atsumu was eager to hear more of, and pushed Atsumu’s hair out of his eyes.
“So ya just gonna leave me hangin’?”
“I like watchin’ you squirm just a little.”
“5 years is just a little?” That earned him a full laugh. Even Kita’s laugh was perfect, and Atsumu wanted to hold the sound of it in his head forever.
“Yeah, I guess that’s long enough,” Kita was looking at him again and all the air was gone from his lungs, “I love you, too, Atsumu.”
So maybe Osamu had been right about some things (both the real one and the little one that lived––rent free, that bastard––in his head), but Atsumu would never give his brother the satisfaction of admitting it. ‘Sides, the 13-minute shinkansen had a strict schedule and he had somewhere to be and 17 extra minutes to spend with his absolute tease of a boyfriend.