“So, you’re telling me that I’m being considered to play one of the lead roles,” Sakusa asks carefully, “... but my tentative love interest is going to be Miya Atsumu?”
His manager winces, having prepared herself for this kind of reaction. “Well… yes.”
Shimizu Kiyoko, bless her fucking heart, has been Sakusa Kiyoomi’s manager ever since his career started at seventeen. He’s twenty-two now and he finds himself constantly impressed at how she’s managed to keep up with him for the past five years. For as long as he could remember, long before he’d even started acting, friends, classmates, teammates, and even his own parents, had given him the reputation of being “too high maintenance.”
That reputation had followed him all the way to his stardom. Sakusa doesn’t know what exactly was considered to be too high-maintenance. As far as he’s concerned, he’s just someone who’s always had a lot of goals. Set goals that he was dead set on achieving, that he wanted to achieve in a certain way, wanted the people around him to understand that he needed to achieve it this certain way, and he made sure that he reached those goals he’d set for himself by doing it that way.
If that was being too high maintenance, then so be it. He was too high maintenance.
One of those said goals (He had a list. He started writing it when he was fifteen. Komori says he’s a loser for it, but he can go fuck himself.), was to star in a gay film. He’d decided on that particular goal before his age had even reached double digits.
This goal was only born because one of the first gay films he’d ever seen was Brokeback Mountain and he’d wondered if it was really necessary to make the cowboys so miserable for years, giving them just a couple of high altitude fucks once or twice a year for over a fucking decade, only to kill one of them off in the end.
His nine year old self who’d watched that movie at the lowest possible volume while his parents were dead asleep upstairs, stared at the TV screen as the credits rolled and thought, wow that sucked… also wow, I’m probably a little gay.
As he grew older, that small goal turned into a high priority one, as he grew more conscious of the lack of proper LGBTQ+ representation in media, especially for people of color. They were almost always miserable and had sad endings. Sakusa detested that because being gay in real life was miserable enough. Do people really think that that’s all gay people wanted to see all over media too?
And sure, a lot of them were beautiful, important, and progressive for their time, but now that Sakusa’s in the position of someone who has the power to give his community good representation, he wanted to grab it the second he got the opportunity.
He first saw the script of Make It Count when he was turning eighteen. It had been going around for a while by then, because the original actors that the director Ukai Keishin had wanted, in their words, ‘had too many worries about the way the public might view them because of their roles and couldn’t bring themselves to take it, despite how beautiful the script is.’
Sakusa had scoffed when he’d heard that. Just say you’re homophobic and go.
It was an open secret in the industry that Ukai Keishin was gay and that he had a long-term partner and so, Sakusa had read the script with high expectations and by the end of it, he’d never wanted to get a role so badly. He was a little too young for it at the time and he knew that, but he let it be known that he wanted it, that he could do it, and that if he was given the chance, he wouldn’t let them down.
That was a little over four years ago now. He’d been dreaming about hearing those exact words for so long.
‘They want you for Make It Count, Kiyoomi-kun!’ Kiyoko said more excited than Sakusa had ever seen her. ‘They want you to play Rui alongside Miya Atsumu as Takeru.’
He genuinely hears glass shatter.
“Miya Atsumu?” He repeats, just to be sure, because he had to have heard that wrong.
Please, he better have heard that fucking wrong.
Kiyoko looks like she’d expected that reaction, but tries her best to lift his spirits, anyway.
“Yeah, that handsome child actor. And you’re the same age as him, aren’t you? They’re considering him as your partner. Isn’t that just… great?”
“So, you’re telling me that I’m being considered to play one of the lead roles,” Sakusa asks carefully, “... but my tentative love interest is going to be Miya Atsumu?”
“Well… yes.” She says, her fists clenched to her sides, like she’s currently fighting with all her might to convince him of something, “That’s exactly what I said. You know, Miya Atsumu, double Academy Film Prize nominee, one time winner by the time he was twenty, that Miya Atsumu?”
Miya Atsumu. Double Academy Film Prize nominee, one time winner by the time he was twenty. He’d started acting when he was only two years old, starring in a milk commercial with his identical twin. He was, by all means, Sakusa’s senior by a long-shot. He was talented, too. Ridiculously so. Sakusa could at least admit that much, having seen most of, if not all of the guy’s works.
But Miya Atsumu was also… a child star. (Dun, dun, dun.) You’ve heard all the horror stories and you’ve heard all the rumors about how children who grew up in the limelight always ended up, and it was never good. And while Sakusa didn’t want to stereotype, Miya Atsumu fit the stereotype pretty perfectly.
By the time he was sixteen, he had the reputation of being a wild party boy who drank too much, dated too much, and was caught doing scandalous things by the paparazzi too much. People who’d worked with him claimed that he was a genius, talented beyond belief, and that his natural talent and love for acting shone brightly, no matter where he went.
But on the other hand, because of course there had to be another hand, he was known to be irresponsible, loud, and had the tendency to cause delays in filming because of how often he wouldn’t show up. And even when he did, he’d be late and usually hungover. At age sixteen.
Sakusa knew he had his own rumors that went around, usually about him being cold and stuck up, but none of those rumors ever said anything about his skill or level of professionalism. And in the end, that’s what mattered when it came to getting jobs.
Miya Atsumu was a child star party boy… who’d also recently disappeared off the face of the Earth. One day, he completely stopped posting on social media, stopped accepting any roles, and no one physically saw him for a little over a year. Sakusa remembers. He wasn’t one to lurk on social media and know all the latest celebrity gossip, but even he’d wondered what the hell happened, because no one seemed to be able to give a clear confirmation as to where he went. So, this was going to be a big deal.
This movie, this role, was the first one Miya Atsumu was taking after his sudden disappearance.
But still… Sakusa winces, thinking about how he was potentially going to have to film his dream movie with an actor who had a reputation that could only be likened to fucking Justin Bieber.
“Fuck.” He groans, “Can this not be happening to me?”
Kiyoko raises her eyebrows, amused at the uncharacteristic dramatics, “Okay, drama queen. Are you saying you won’t do it? Should I tell them you don’t want to?”
“I didn’t fucking say that, of course I’m doing it.” Sakusa huffs, sinking horizontally into his couch, and burying his face into a throw pillow.
He groans into it before turning to face Kiyoko. “Are they sure they want Miya Atsumu? It can’t be… I don’t know, literally anyone else?”
“Of course they’re not sure, silly.” She chirps, more cheery now that she’s sure he’s taking the role. “They aren’t even sure about you. They still have to do some screen tests, check on your chemistry with each other. You know the drill.”
“Right. Chemistry reads.” Sakusa blinks. “Chemistry reads...”
He sits up abruptly and Kiyoko jumps a little at the sudden movement.
“Okay, this isn’t so bad.” He says, his mood suddenly improving drastically. “Because there is absolutely no way that Miya Atsumu and I are going to have any chemistry.”
“I don’t know about that, Kiyoomi-kun.” She tilts her head, taking a sip of her wine as she stares at him pointedly, “He’s a good actor and so are you.”
“Then, I can just make it so that I show off my acting skills and passion for this role, all the while making sure that I show no chemistry with him at all. I’m good enough to pull that off, aren’t I?”
Kiyoko looks at him like she’s horrified.
She takes another sip of wine. “You concern me.”
“So, it happened exactly like you said.” Atsumu’s manager slash childhood best friend, Suna Rintarou says, as he gets off the phone. “They pretty much jumped at the opportunity to get you onboard.”
“What’d I tell ya?” Atsumu says lazily, staring at the ceiling as he squeezes his stress ball. “Of course, they’d want me. Imagine the traction they’d get when people find out that Miya Atsumu’s first movie after his hiatus is a gay film.”
Suna rolls his eyes, kicking Atsumu’s thigh to give him more space in bed. Atsumu scoots over as Suna collapses beside him with a sigh.
“They want you as Takeru.”
Atsumu swivels his head to the side to look at his friend, shell-shocked.
“What? They gave me the good boy role? Who the fuck is gettin’ Rui then?”
“Apparently, their eyes are set on Sakusa Kiyoomi.”
“Oh, great.” Atsumu scoffs. “That bastard, huh?”
“Hey, be nice, alright?” Suna scolds, whacking Atsumu on the stomach with a pillow. “He may not have the best reputation out there, but don’t forget that yours is leagues worse.”
“Hey, fuck you, at least I’ve managed to fix mine.” Atsumu argues, “His attitude issues are still ongoin’ and based on what I’ve heard, they’re goin’ strong .”
He was relatively new to the industry compared to him, having only started five years ago as part of the main cast of that star-studded action movie that Atsumu had forgotten the name of. He worked alongside Jun Matsumoto. Atsumu’s been acting for twenty fucking years now and he’s never worked with Jun Matsumoto, and Sakusa Kiyoomi gets to do it for his first major role? What the hell is with that?
He could just tell that the guy had strong connections in the industry. He’s rumored to have grown up in a well-off family, too. Probably never had to work too hard for a goddamn thing in his life.
Sakusa Kiyoomi, a young actor rumored to be incredibly pretentious and stuck up ever since he was a newbie, who didn’t have too many friends in the industry because of just how cold and unfriendly he was. He’s professional to the point of being dull and a perfectionist to the point of being a diva who made things harder for everyone around him.
He’s good and he’s professional, but he’s a hassle. He’s talented, but he’s hard to please. He’s good-looking, but he seems emotionally unavailable, even as a friend.
People always used such fancy words to try and describe him. In Atsumu’s opinion, they can just say he’s anal and leave it at that.
Now, Atsumu wasn’t going to be a hypocrite. He’s heard all the horror stories about him, alright. He got way too drunk way too often, started too many fights, sparked too much drama, dated too many girls (and boys, but the public doesn’t know that) and broke too many hearts. He delayed filming all the time, he was an inconvenience to cast mates, directors, and producers, yada-yada. He’s heard that particular spiel enough times for him to have it all memorized.
He’s a child star gone down the wrong path. But that’s, like, ninety percent of child stars. Sue him.
The only reason he’s back after spending over a year in hiding and self-isolation or whatever term it is the articles are using, is to prove that he has not reached a dead-end at the age of twenty fucking two years old. His career was only just beginning and there was so much left for him to do, to achieve, and to prove not only to everyone else, but to himself.
Because he owed himself that much. Because he owed his family that much, his fans that much, and Suna that much. That’s why he’s worked on it. That’s why he’s here.
That’s why he’s okay now and why he’s going to make damn sure that he will be for the remainder of his career.
That’s why he wasn’t going to let Sakusa Kiyoomi ruin it for him.
“Are they sure about the guy?” Atsumu asks, “If they want me to be paired with a fuckin’ rookie who’s never been the lead of a romantic movie, they’ve gotta make sure that he can keep up with me. This is the gay role I’ve been lookin’ for my whole damn career, so he better not ruin this for me.”
He says that knowing full well that Sakusa Kiyoomi could not only keep up with him, but that he’ll be able to do so perfectly.
“Relax, you big-headed superstar. Obviously, nothing’s final.” Suna retorts, “You’ve both still gotta do some screen tests and chemistry reads. See how well you guys are gonna work together, you know? Same shit as always.”
“Test my chemistry with him, huh?” Atsumu sighs, turning over in his bed, comfortably. “Great. Then, that means I’m not doin’ this movie with him, ‘cause we won’t have any.”
“Whatever you say.” Suna says, “Or you can just admit that you’re panicking ‘cause you think he’s hot and you jerked off to that cologne commercial he did recently.”
Atsumu turns to him, betrayed. “I told you that in confidence.”
“Live your dreams, Miya Atsumu.” Suna encourages, like the best friend that he is. “Live your dreams.”
“Just ‘cause yer my brother’s boyfriend, doesn’t mean I won’t beat yer ass.” Atsumu glares, kicking him off the bed, and pulling his blankets over his head. “Now, go away so I can nap. And by the way, I don’t get crushes on straight men so you can go shove it.”
“Who the fuck is straight?” Suna laughs as he’s successfully kicked off the bed and onto the carpeted floor. “Sakusa Kiyoomi used to date Ushiwaka , are you fucking kidding me?”
There’s a meaningful silence, before Atsumu slowly pokes the top of his head out of the covers.
“... Wait, he’s gay?”
Suna howls in laughter as he ducks from the pillow Atsumu throws at him.
“I knew it! You think he’s hot!”
“Shaddup! Go away! Ya useless manager!”
Sakusa’s in the middle of reviewing his script when someone plops down onto the chair next to him. He doesn’t even look up because he already knows who it is. He can see all the blonde from the corner of his eye. And he can smell his cologne.
It smells like something only assholes would ever wear.
He hears rather than sees the man bring out his own script. Sakusa tries not to let out a relieved sigh at that, hopeful that reviewing their lines side by side in peace would be the extent of their off-camera interaction for today.
“Hey. Yer Sakusa Kiyoomi, right?”
If he could only be so lucky.
“Yes.” He answers, still without looking up. “And you’re Miya Atsumu.”
“The one and the only!” He exclaims, a little too loud for the quiet waiting room, “How would ya know that when ya haven’t even looked at me, though?”
“Your blonde is eye-catching.” He deadpans. “Shouldn’t you be rehearsing your lines?”
“Nah, I know my lines just fine, thanks.” Atsumu retorts, leaning towards Sakusa, resting his elbow on the armrest and his chin against his palm. Sakusa can practically feel him breathe against his ear. “I wanna get to know you more.”
“Yeah? Well, we can do that if you get the part.”
“Wow. Feisty.” Atsumu raises his eyebrows, impressed at the sheer audacity, “And rude. I’m yer senior, ya know. D’ya really think it’s a good idea to be an asshole to me like that?”
Sakusa’s eye twitches.
“Okay, look, just because you’re—” He snaps his head up to give his senior a piece of his mind and comes face to face with…
“... too close.” Sakusa ends up saying breathily, instead of whatever he had planned.
The only up side is that Miya Atsumu looks just about as flustered as he feels. Small mercies.
“Right.” Atsumu gulps, as he backs away. “Too close.” He repeats.
Sakusa isn’t sure if his eyes are just playing tricks on him, but he’s almost certain that Atsumu’s ears are red.
Suffice to say, it’s awkward after that.
Sakusa tries to turn his focus back to his script, but he can’t now that he knows how long Miya Atsumu’s eyelashes are, and Atsumu tries to focus on updating Osamu about how embarrassing this all was and how no one had warned him about how hot Sakusa Kiyoomi was in real life, without letting the man next to him see his screen or notice how badly his hands are shaking.
After he sends Osamu a very telling keyboard smash, two other actors appear. One that Atsumu doesn’t recognize, and the other being Kageyama Tobio. Ooh. Atsumu guesses he’s being cast as Yuki.
But the silence, unfortunately, doesn’t get any less awkward.
It takes a few minutes later for Suna to come back from his bathroom break, sitting next to Atsumu when he does.
Atsumu instantly sends his manager an SOS with his eyes, to do something, anything, to help him start up his failed conversation with Sakusa Kiyoomi again.
Suna winks at him like he’s got it and fishes his phone out of his pocket.
Atsumu is about to sigh in relief, until Suna seemingly finds what he’s looking for and presses something with his thumb.
Breaking the silence, the Wii Menu music starts playing from his phone, echoing loudly against the four walls of the formerly peaceful room.
Atsumu ever so slowly turns his head to look to his right and Suna just nods at him with a shit-eating grin.
Kageyama Tobio and the other guy also look up from their scripts. The one guy doesn’t say anything while Kageyama starts to bob his head along to the beat.
He’s doing it unconsciously too, Atsumu thinks. Bless him.
Sakusa has his eyes squeezed close next to him, like he’s in agony.
Sometimes, definitely not all the time, but sometimes, Atsumu truly regrets choosing his childhood best friend as his new manager slash agent.
What the fuck, Atsumu mouths angrily to Suna.
“What?” He shrugs, innocently. “I thought you wanted me to break the silence.”
“You’re the worst person I’ve ever met in my life.” Atsumu says.
The Wii Menu Music continues to play as Atsumu and Sakusa read their scripts silently side by side as a few more actors arrive. Not another word is spoken between them.
The two are pretty sure, at that moment, that everyone in the room was all thinking the same thing, as the Wii Music switches to that French song from Ratatouille.
Wow. They are never getting cast together.
They’re doing the post breakup scene for the chemistry read, except it’s not really a break up scene. The set-up being that Rui and Takeru are childhood best friends who’d been secretly in love with each other all their lives, but Rui’s about to get married, and so they cry and yell at each other by the sea. It’s a whole thing. And it’s apparently the toughest scene in the whole movie.
According to Ukai, if they can do this together and do it well, they can easily do everything else. Sakusa takes it as a challenge.
His first try was with someone who looked familiar, except he couldn’t put a name to match the face. He only finds out from Ukai that his name is Terushima Yuuji.
Sakusa knows his lines well, tries to channel Rui the best that he can and thinks he does it well, but he also knows it’s far from being his best. Yuuji is too nervous, too stiff, and stutters through a few of his lines. Sakusa can’t even bring himself to tear up when he says the ‘Why? Why are you doing this now?’ line.
His second try was with Kageyama Tobio. He’d heard from Kiyoko that he’s apparently meant to play Takeru’s other friend Yuki, who’s in love with Takeru while he’s pining over Rui, but they’re trying him out for Takeru too, just in case.
In Sakusa’s humble opinion, Yuki deserved better in the storyline but he’ll take that up with the director later on.
He learns that Kageyama Tobio is good. Technically, Sakusa already knew that, considering he’s seen two of the guy’s movies, and he’s pretty sure he was nominated for an Academy Film Prize last year. His performance alongside Hinata Shoyo was impressive.
But he’s truly good. Outstanding, even.
This time, the director doesn’t say cut too early and lets them finish more than half the scene. Sakusa has a good feeling about it and hopes to god they give him Takeru instead of Yuki.
Atsumu could do Yuki. At least then, Sakusa wouldn’t have to do too many scenes with him. He remembers reading a particular one where their characters argue and Rui apparently tries to punch him in the face.
Sakusa could do that. Easily. Gladly, even. They didn’t even need to do a chemistry read or anything for that.
“Alright, that’s enough, that was good!” Ukai says, clapping his hands. “Thank you, you two. Sakusa-kun, do you need a break? Or are you alright to go one last time?”
Sakusa wipes away the stray tears from the corners of his eyes, wanting to get the worst over with as soon as possible. “I’m alright, sir. I can go again.”
“Okay then, if you’re sure.” Ukai says, turning to look at the only remaining man waiting for his turn. “Atsumu-kun, you can go ahead.”
“Finally.” Atsumu huffs as he jumps out of his seat, walking over to Sakusa with the swagger of a man who’d done this a thousand times before, like someone who had absolute confidence that he was going to get this part whether he liked it or not.
Sakusa wanted to ruin him. In what sense, he couldn’t be sure.
When Atsumu stands in front of him, he stares him down. And when Sakusa meets his eyes, the man has the nerve to smirk .
Sakusa wonders if it’ll lower his chances of getting cast, if he punches him in the face right now.
“Alright.” Ukai says, after he finishes writing something down in his notebook. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Sakusa closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and tries to remember that he’s Rui right now. Rui. Not Sakusa.
And Rui’s in love with Takeru. This is Takeru, and not Miya Atsumu.
By the time he gathers himself and opens his eyes, Atsumu already has tears running down his cheeks, lower lip wobbling.
What the fuck.
“Are you really marrying her?” He asks, voice hoarse and shaky in a way that makes it sound like he’s been crying for hours, and jeez, how is he doing that? “Rui… are you really doing it?”
Sakusa pulls himself together. He can’t blow this. He won’t blow this.
“I don’t know what you want from me, Takeru.” He says, “I don’t have a choice. You know that.”
“Yes, you do!” Atsumu exclaims, throwing his arms out to his sides. His talent is so palpable that Sakusa is almost intimidated. “Are you fucking kidding me? Of course, you have a choice! Run away with me!”
“Are you an idiot?” Sakusa bites back, rushing forward to put his hand over Atsumu’s mouth, because they’re supposed to be outdoors in this scene, “Stop yelling, someone will hear you. And I can’t fucking do that. How would we do that?”
“We’ll figure it out.” He begs, clutching onto Sakusa’s wrist to move his hand away, more tears spilling down his face as he does, “We’ll figure it out, like we always do. Like we always have. Run away with me. You don’t even love her.”
“Yes, I do.” He says, stiffly.
“No, you don’t.” Atsumu insists, grabbing him by the shoulders. “You know you don’t. And you know she doesn’t love you, either. Neither of you even want this. Just… please, Rui.”
“Why?” Sakusa’s tears start rolling down his cheeks, and he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he feels them dripping down his chin. “Why are you doing this now?”
His voice trembles. This line was supposed to be yelled out, this line was supposed to be angry, and yet he was too overwhelmed to say it as anything more than a weak and quivery whisper.
“You know why.” Atsumu says, stepping forward, and Ukai’s supposed to stop them now.
He’s supposed to yell cut at this point, but he doesn’t.
So without a hint of hesitation, Atsumu rests his hand on the back of Sakusa’s neck, leans forward, and kisses him.
The script said that it had to be desperate and full of passion. A kiss that contained an entire lifetime of longing.
And Atsumu does it. He does it well. Too well.
It’s wet and salty and they’re both sniffly, but both as Rui and as Sakusa, he completely melts into it, if the whimper he lets out involuntarily is anything to go by.
He doesn’t know when his fingers had ended up tangled in Atsumu’s hair. He doesn’t know when they’d started fully pressing their bodies together.
All he knows is that he feels tongue . That is… very real tongue.
For some reason, Sakusa feels like this is a competition and that he can’t lose to him, so he bites Atsumu’s bottom lip slightly, pulling it down to make him open his mouth wider.
The man moans into his mouth and Sakusa realizes he needs Ukai to yell cut soon, and by soon he means now, because he’s getting hard.
Oh god, he’s getting hard.
They’re both still crying and kissing, when he hears Atsumu whimper something into his mouth that sounds suspiciously like ‘.... Omi.’
Oh, wow. This is hell. He’s in hell.
“Okay.” Ukai says and his voice is soft, but it sounds loud in the dead silence of the studio. “That’s… enough. Uh. Cut! Yes, cut. That’s what I meant.”
Sakusa is the first to pull away and so he’s able to watch the almost ethereal beauty in the way Atsumu’s eyes slowly flutter open to look at him, hazily.
And for a moment, that’s all they do. They just look at each other.
At their debauched states, tear streaked cheeks, and the spit string between them. They both know what had just happened.
They completely broke character.
“Holy shit.” Ukai says, turning to his producer.
“Holy shit.” The producer nods.
Kiyoko’s mouth is agape at the side of the room while Suna’s next to her, holding back a bout of laughter by hiding his mouth behind his fist. His expression looks a lot like he’s saying, I knew it.
When Atsumu and Sakusa stare at each other, they know exactly what they’d just done.
They broke character.
And yet, it was the most chemistry they’d ever felt with an onscreen partner. And only a potential one, at that.
“Holy shit.” Atsumu says more to himself than to Sakusa. “We’re gonna get it.”
Sakusa gulps, Atsumu’s wrecked voice moaning ‘Omi’ into his mouth playing on repeat in his head.
“Yeah. We are.”
The car ride back to Sakusa’s apartment is silent, but he can tell just by his manager’s face that she has a lot to say. He hated when people acted like Kiyoko was an actual angel on earth to put up with being his manager for as long as she has. The only reason she’s been able to do it is because she’s secretly a pompous little shit.
The second they walk into the apartment and she closes the door behind her, Sakusa feels her smug expression burn holes into his back.
“And you said you wouldn’t have any chemistry.”
And there it is.
“Shut. Up.” Sakusa says, shrugging off his jacket, and pointing at her warningly. “I mean it. Not a word from you.”
“I’m just saying,” She says, hands up in the air like she means no harm, “— last time I ever saw you kiss someone like that was when you were still dating Ushijima-kun.”
“Who did he kiss?!” A voice yells from the kitchen.
Kiyoko squeaks and Sakusa flinches so harshly that he thinks it hits a nerve in the back of his neck.
“Ow, fucking— Komori, you piece of shit. I gave you a key for emergencies.”
Komori appears from behind a wall, bringing chips. “I ran out of Doritos.”
Sakusa rolls his eyes so hard that it gives him a headache. “You know, if we weren’t related, I would’ve filed a restraining order against you.”
“Well, what are you gonna do? We are related.” Komori smiles sweetly, popping a chip into his mouth as he plops onto the couch as if it were his, patting the space next to him. “Now, come on you two. Come and sit with me and tell me who my cousin apparently just swapped spit with.”
“I’m not telling you sh—“
“Miya Atsumu.” Kiyoko replies.
Sakusa swivels around to look at her, betrayed.
“Oh. Sorry.” She says, slowly sinking down onto the couch. “Was I not supposed to say it?”
“Miya Atsumu? The child star?” Komori exclaims with a mouthful of Doritos. “Wait… hey, didn’t you have—“
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
“— a crush on him in high school?”
“I did not.” Sakusa bites out venomously, tossing a throw pillow at his cousin, which he easily catches with one hand and tosses back to him.
Damn volleyball players. Damn liberos.
“Yeah, you did.” He argues, “I remember vividly walking in on you jerking off to his swimming scene in—“
“I am going to kill you and mail your dead body to your team’s doorstep.” Sakusa deadpans.
“They’ll… probably thank you for it.” Komori says, “But that doesn’t change the fact that you used to have a crush on Miya Atsumu.”
“I am learning a lot about you today.” Kiyoko says amusedly, looking more entertained than she should.
“I hate you both. You’re both fired.” Sakusa says, giving up and settling into his couch. “As my manager and as my family.”
He’s completely ignored.
“I thought you’d gotten over your crush on him, though.” Komori points out, “Especially after his whole cheating scandal with those two actresses he worked with in that horror movie he did.”
“I never had a crush on him.” Sakusa says, stubbornly.
“Could’ve fooled me.” Kiyoko says, leaning towards Komori, talking behind her hand, making a whole show of pretending to whisper, all the while saying it loud enough for Sakusa to hear. “He made a big deal out of making sure they wouldn’t have any chemistry but they made out with tongue.”
“Oooooooh, tongue on your first day? I’m impressed, Sakusa Kiyoomi. You never kiss on the first date.” Komori teases, leaning forward to meet Sakusa’s eyes. “Just admit it… you still think he’s hot, don’t you?”
You still think he’s hot, don’t you, he says. Hell no. Sakusa does not think Miya Atsumu is hot. He’s an irresponsible, cocky asshole, who thinks that he’s better than everyone else just because he’s been doing this longer than everyone else and he uses tacky cologne, has an ugly dye job, and stupidly long eyelashes, pretty brown eyes that sparkled under the studio lights, soft lips, a skilled tongue, and a husky voice that sounded almost like a symphony when he moaned—
“Shut the fuck up!” He yells, standing abruptly, taking his two friends by surprise. “I do not think he’s hot and if anything, he’s the one who found me hot, and that’s what got me into character! That’s all it was!”
Kiyoko sighs tiredly. “Denial city, as always.”
Komori closes his eyes with a grave nod. “Denial City, Superiority Complex Street.”
Atsumu slams his apartment door closed, ripping his coat off, and chucking it to the side. “I hate that bastard. What a prick.”
Suna snorts. “Is that what hate looks like these days? Wow. Wish I had that.”
“How’d it go?” Osamu asks from his comfortable position on the couch, sitting beside Kita Shinsuke, who as far as Atsumu was concerned, was supposed to be in Korea for filming. “I heard you two pretty much shot an opening scene for a porno today.”
“I gave you a key for emergencies.” Atsumu scolds, “And what’re ya here for, Kita-san? Aren’t ya supposed to be in the middle of shootin’ a blockbuster?”
Osamu says, “I wanted to make fun of you”, at the same time that Kita says, “That ended yesterday and Osamu asked me this morning if I was in the mood to make fun of you.”
Atsumu sighs tiredly as his manager skips his way to his twin brother, kissing him full on the lips. He tries not to throw up, and all but drags his feet toward his unwanted company of three, throwing himself face down onto his beanbag chair.
“What happened to you?” Kita asks, eyebrow raised. “I haven’t seen you in months and the first time I do, you’re having another one of your overly dramatic meltdowns?”
Atsumu turns his head slightly to give him a half-hearted glare. “You don’t care about me at all.”
“That’s a lie and you know it.” Kita says.
Kita Shinsuke, fellow child actor, Three Time Academy Film Prize Winner, and the youngest one to ever do it, at that. He was one of the lucky ones whose time in the industry left him untainted. He’d seen all the ugly, experienced all the bad, and yet he was as perfect and refined as he always was. His reputation remains as squeaky clean as it’s been from the beginning.
How he managed to do it, Atsumu wishes he knew so that he could follow by example. The only explanation he’s managed to come up with was that Kita Shinsuke is half human, half God.
(Atsumu may or may not have had a long-time crush on him that lasted a couple years. They don’t talk about it.)
“He’s cranky ‘cause he has to do a gay film with a hot guy he hates.” Suna explains.
“Ah,” Kita says, like it makes sense, “That doesn’t sound so bad. Before we filmed our first movie together, you were also just a hot guy whose guts I hated. That turned out alright.”
Atsumu lifts his head. “You thought I was hot?”
“That’s all you got from that?”
“Yer bein’ dumb, Tsumu,” Osamu says, with that tone he always uses when he’s about to give Atsumu a piece of his mind, “It’s not like this is the first time yer gonna have to work with someone ya find hot or that ya don’t like.”
“Yeah, but it’s the first time I have to work with someone who I don’t like and find hot at the same fuckin’ time.” Atsumu groans.
“What do ya even call that?” Osamu asks quietly.
“Horny hatred?” Suna answers.
“Homosexual resentment?” Kita adds.
“Isn’t that just homophobia?” Atsumu asks, “Wait, no, can we go back to my crisis, please? What am I gonna do? Saaaaamuuuuu,”
“No.” He answers, before Atsumu can even finish whining.
“Can’t ya do it for me?” He begs, crawling towards his brother and grabbing his foot. “Jus’ dye yer hair for a few months or somethin’. I’ll attend yer Master’s classes for ya.”
“No, you’ll make me fail.” Osamu deadpans. “And I haven’t acted since I was fifteen so that’s just gonna be a disaster waitin’ to happen.”
Atsumu groans even louder.
He loved Osamu. There was no one he cared about more in the entire world and that was including himself. But a part of him still hated him, just a little bit, for leaving the industry. They’d started together and half the reason Atsumu didn’t find himself breaking from the pressure earlier than he did, was because he had Osamu with him. In his head, he’d unconsciously associated his brother with safety and stability.
Which had clearly been a mistake, because losing him cost him those things too.
Sometimes, he still wondered if maybe he wouldn’t have had to disappear for a year if Osamu had been with him. But he never brings that up, especially not in front of his brother. After that whole episode last year, Atsumu knows that Osamu probably hated himself a little, too. He knows Osamu blames himself for it and while Atsumu secretly blames him a little bit, just because he’s petty like that, he knows none of it was his fault.
It was Atsumu who’d fucked up.
Osamu kicks him lightly. “Don’t be a fuckin’ baby. This is the movie you’ve been wantin’ to do for years now, ain’t it?”
“Oh.” Kita interjects, raising his eyebrows. “Wait, is this Make It Count? That script you made me read a few years ago?”
“Yeah…?” Atsumu says, “What’s with that face?”
“Then, isn’t this the script with that fairly intense sex scene?” He points out.
There is a pregnant silence. The kind of silence you only ever hear when you know someone is fucked.
This time, Atsumu doesn’t groan. He screams.
Sakusa has done a fair amount of acting workshops throughout his lifetime. And he was well aware of the fact that they were going to have to do a little bit of that, considering that this was both his and Atsumu’s first gay roles. Hell, this was his first time being the lead in a romantic film, period.
But that didn’t make anything about their situation more bearable. A part of him understood because yes, sure, they’ve never tackled roles like these before, but another part of him wanted to yell at everyone in the room.
Excuse me, hello, sir, ma’am, sorry, can I just ask why exactly you’re asking a bisexual man to practice how to act bisexual?
And he wasn’t an idiot. Nobody had ever really said it out loud but it was an open secret that Miya Atsumu wasn’t exactly particular with the people he dated or slept with. Gender didn’t ever seem to be a factor to him and he’s done a good amount of romantic movies before, so Sakusa thinks it’s pretty fair to assume that neither of them needed this workshop and they could just go straight to filming whatever they needed to film, so they didn’t have to be around each other and touch each other more than they already have to in the first place. But alas…
“Okay, now…” Ukai says, motioning for Atsumu to come closer, “While Sakusa-kun is leaning against the balcony like this, you have to come over slowly and hug him from behind, gently.”
“Gently.” Atsumu repeats. “I can do gently.”
“Maybe we wouldn’t have to keep doing this shit if you didn’t keep putting your clammy hands up my hoodie.” Sakusa bites back.
“Are ya stupid? Ya think I’m doin’ that ‘cause I want to? That’s what it says I have to do in the script!” Atsumu defends.
“Your hands are fucking freezing!” Sakusa yells back.
“It isn’t my fault ya didn’t wear a shirt under yer hoodie, are ya fuckin’ stupid?” Atsumu scoffs.
“Stop calling me stupid, you’re stupid!”
“Please,” Ukai rubs his temples. “Let’s just get on with it.”
“I’m very sorry about them.” Kiyoko whispers to him.
“Alright!” Atsumu says, too chippy for someone who was just trying to pick a fight. “Don’t ya worry, Ukai-san, Omi and I are just goin’ through a rough patch but we’ll get over it!”
“Don’t call me Omi.” Sakusa hisses, angrily turning around to lean against the balcony railing, waiting for Atsumu to approach him with a back hug for the third time.
He slightly turns to Ukai once Atsumu is out of hearing range.
“Does it really have to be him?” He almost begs.
“Hey,” Ukai shrugs, “ You were there.”
Curse their damned onscreen chemistry. Curse that damned kiss. Curse Miya Atsumu’s bright hair, pretty eyes, soft lips, and skilled tongue. He hopes he rots.
In the middle of his hateful internal monologue, he once again feels strong arms wrap around his middle, gently, and this time thankfully, not under his hoodie. A cheek rests against Sakusa’s left shoulder and he forces himself not to freeze up at the touch. He tries to look as natural as possible, as he brings one hand down to rest it on top of Atsumu’s joint ones around him.
His hands are rough.
“Mmmm,” Atsumu hums contentedly, pressing himself closer, “Ya smell nice, Omi-kun.”
Sakusa exhales loudly, leaning back to rest his head against Atsumu’s shoulder. He hates to admit it, but this was… nice, kind of. Or it would be if Atsumu wasn’t constantly trying to get on his last nerve.
“I said to stop calling me Omi-kun.” He says under his breath, so that Ukai doesn’t hear.
“Omi-Omi, then.” Atsumu says simply, turning his head to bury his face in Sakusa’s neck. “Ya smell like baby powder.”
“And what about it? I have sensitive skin.” Sakusa says, feeling the need to defend himself for some reason. “You’re breathing too hard against my neck, Miya.”
“And what about it? I’m comfortable.” He whines. “And just call me Atsumu. How can ya still call me by my last name when my tongue’s been in yer mouth?”
“If you keep talking, I will punch you.” Sakusa threatens and he means it.
Atsumu doesn’t seem to pick up on that.
Sakusa closes his eyes, silently praying for his exasperation to dissipate. “What?”
“Are ya ticklish?”
He opens his eyes. “Huh?”
“Yer not answerin’ me.” Sakusa feels hands creep up his hoodie once again before he can do anything about it. “Guess I’ll have to find out.”
“Wait, I told you your hands are too cold—” Sakusa’s cut off abruptly by fingers digging into his sides, making him burst out into loud laughter, “Miya— hey, Atsumu, stop!”
Atsumu gasps excitedly, instantly retracting his hands. “You called me Atsumu! If all I needed to do to get ya to do that was make you laugh, ya could’ve just said so!”
Sakusa turns around with a vicious glare, trying to catch his breath. “I’m going to punch you.”
“No, ya won’t.”
Sakusa dives forward with a fist in the air, fully prepared to hit him, before he’s being held back by Ukai and Kiyoko, while Atsumu is being dragged away bodily by his manager, who mumbles something like ‘You would have deserved that’ .
“Okaaaaaay,” Ukai says pointedly, “Maybe, we should try doing something else.”
Sakusa ends up sitting at a table for two, face to face with Atsumu, with a tall glass of ice cream positioned on the table between them. Sakusa can see where this is going and he’s read this part of the script enough times to know what they’re going to have to do.
“For fuck’s sake,” Atsumu beats him to it, “This is the almost kiss scene, isn’t it?”
Sakusa narrows his eyes at him. “Don’t act like this is the worst thing in the world. If anything, I should be the one complaining right now.”
“Is anyone else seein’ this shit?” Atsumu asks, looking around the room, “Am I the only one seein’ this rookie bein’ really fuckin’ rude to someone who’s like, I don’t know… fifteen years his senior?”
“Maybe, if said senior wasn’t such an annoying, cocky asshole, this wouldn’t be happening to him.” Sakusa throws back at him.
“ Maybe , if the rookie wasn’t such a stuck up, self-righteous prick, this wouldn’t be so goddamn hard to do—“
“Holy shit. Just eat the fucking ice cream.” Suna interrupts.
Thank you, Ukai mouths to him. The manager merely bows his head.
“You two know what scene this is.” Ukai says tiredly, “Just go ahead and do your thing and please… please try not to kill each other. Your faces are expensive.”
Atsumu and Sakusa reach for their respective spoons in unison, grabbing them with pointed displeasure.
“And… action.” Ukai says, clapping his hand once in the action of a slate.
“So, Rui,” Atsumu starts, seamlessly transitioning from himself to Takeru in the span of half a second, “Are the rumors true? I heard that they want you to marry the Sato family’s oldest daughter.”
Not in the mood to lose to him today, Sakusa pushes himself to forget about his irritation, falling into character.
“I guess so.” He says, taking a small bite of his ice cream.
Damn. He’s not a big fan of mint chocolate.
“Then,” Atsumu starts, avoiding eye contact, playing with his spoon, like he’s nervous. “How do you feel about that?”
Sakusa clenches his fingers around his spoon and stops chewing, because the script tells him he has to be tense. “Why does it matter how I feel?”
“Of course, it does.” Atsumu says softly, in such a gentle way, so unlike the real him that Sakusa’s heart skips a beat.
“You’re my best friend, aren’t you? So… it matters to me.”
Sakusa looks up to meet Atsumu’s eyes and they’re shining. He stares at him in such a naturally tender way that it makes him wonder whether it’s still acting or not. And he guesses that’s how you know an actor is good at what they do.
When even their damn co-star can’t tell.
It feels like a magnetic pull that he can’t drag himself away from when he leans forward, as if being reeled in by Atsumu’s charm.
Takeru’s, he keeps reminding himself. This is Takeru and he is Rui.
Sakusa’s gaze goes from the man’s eyes, to his nose, to his pinkish cheeks, then down to his lips. As they get closer and closer, Sakusa inhales lightly and smells… was that strawberry?
Was Atsumu wearing strawberry flavored chapstick? Holy hell.
Atsumu’s eyes lower down to stare at Sakusa’s lips and he seems to tense up at the sight of it. Once again, he isn’t sure whether it’s acting or not.
Just as Sakusa is about to say his line, he sees Atsumu’s tongue poke out of his lips.
He chokes on a small piece of chocolate and accidentally spits it in Atsumu’s face.
“What in the name of fu—” Atsumu sputters, leaning back and frantically reaching for the tissues that Suna is already wordlessly handing him from behind. “Fuck you! Ya meant to do that, didn’t you?!”
Sakusa’s cheeks blush furiously as he reaches for his own tissues from Kiyoko to wipe his mouth with. “Why would I mean to do that?!”
Suna, Ukai, and Kiyoko sigh to themselves on the sidelines.
“Okay,” Ukai lowers his head, “Let’s do something else.”
“Now, where can we go wrong with a nice, good, slow dance scene, eh?” Ukai says encouragingly, more for himself than for anyone else, “It’s cute, it’s warm, and you’ve probably already done it for a PE class once or twice. Easy like Sunday morning.”
“I can already picture so many different ways that this could go wrong.” Suna mutters to himself, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall.
“The only thing I’m worrying about right now is which of them will be the one to throw the first punch.” Kiyoko says, with one hand holding onto something hidden in her bag.
Suna raises his eyebrows. “What are you holding? That isn’t pepper spray or something, is it? ‘Cause Atsumu had a can once and tried spraying it into a corner of the room to test how strong it is and everyone ended up having to evacuate so—”
Kiyoko shakes her head, stopping him. “It’s an air horn. I’m gonna press it to make them stop if things get out of hand.”
Suna holds back a laugh. “You sure are something to be able to be Sakusa Kiyoomi’s manager.”
Kiyoko looks up at him. “I could say the same about you being Miya Atsumu’s manager.”
“Childhood best friend too, actually.”
Kiyoko shrugs. “Even worse.”
“You have absolutely no fucking idea.” Suna sighs, “This is a goddamn headache. Their chemistry is insane… or it would be if they stopped trying to kill each other every other minute.”
Kiyoko bites her lip. “I think it’s because of that chemistry that they’re trying to kill each other every other minute.”
Suna snorts. “You think I don’t know that?”
“So,” Ukai claps, “Like it says in the script, this scene is supposed to have a very… domestic feel to it. You two are at home, just the two of you, listening to 80s music, and slow dancing in the living room wearing nothing but your boxers. It’s supposed to be peaceful and tender. You know what I’m trying to say?”
“Yes, we know.” Atsumu huffs, before turning his attention back to Sakusa with a glare. “You better not ruin it this time.”
Sakusa rolls his eyes. “You’re such a diva. It was just a little ice cream on your face.”
“ I’m the diva. Yer tellin’ me I’m the diva,” He scoffs, “Are ya hearin’ yerself right now? Mr. Don’t-Talk-To-Me-When-I’m-Getting-My-Makeup-Done and Mr. Don’t-Touch-Me-Your-Hands-Are-Cold, Mr. Fuckin’—”
His angry rant is cut off by I Melt With You suddenly playing from the bluetooth speakers and Ukai motioning for them to start dancing.
Sakusa sighs, holding a hand out. “Let’s just get this over with so we can go home, Miya.”
“I said to call me Atsumu.” He says, getting huffier by the second, but taking Sakusa’s hand, anyway. “I bet ya can’t even dance.”
Sakusa pulls Atsumu closer, a little too harshly. “You don’t know shit.”
Atsumu steps closer, looking him straight in the eye, and they’re so close that the tips of their noses are nearly touching.
He tries to act like he isn’t bewildered by their sudden closeness, desperately swallowing down whatever noise was about to come out of his mouth.
In the midst of trying to get his heart rate in check, he accidentally steps on Sakusa’s foot.
“Ouch, you bastard!” Sakusa hisses, “You meant to do that!”
“Why would I mean to do that?!” Atsumu argues, echoing the man’s words from earlier.
Sakusa doesn’t take that lightly, lifting his foot subtly, and landing it right on top of Atsumu’s big toe, hard.
“Mother fucker.” Atsumu cries out, bending down to hold his foot. “Wow, now that was on purpose, ya fuckin’ shitstain.”
Sakusa smirks. “You deserved that.”
Atsumu pauses, straightening up decidedly, before reaching for his phone in his pocket, only to toss it to Suna. He catches it easily.
“What the fuck?” Suna says, blinking at the latest iPhone in his hands. “Thank you?”
“Keep it safe.” Atsumu says, folding up his sleeves, before lunging for Sakusa. “‘Cause I’m about to beat this bitch up.”
And Sakusa is fully aware of the fact that he’s been completely unprofessional and acting nothing like himself ever since they’d started working together, but it’s almost like he can’t help it when he lunges back, reaching for Atsumu’s collar.
“Great, ‘cause I’ve wanted to ruin that pretty face of yours since the first d—”
Atsumu and Sakusa instantly let go of each other, hands flying up to cover their ears. Everyone in the room does the same thing.
They all turn to Kiyoko standing proudly in a corner, air horn in hand, raised above her head.
It lasts for almost ten entire seconds.
When it stops, there is only a long, meaningful silence as they all stare at Kiyoko Shimizu with what could only be described as a mixture of pure admiration and sheer terror.
She huffs indignantly, straightening her jacket. “That is enough.”
“Miss Kiyoko, I’ll have you know that if I wasn’t too gay to function, I would’ve fallen in love with you just then.” Suna smiles, impressed.
Atsumu turns to Sakusa. “Wait… did I just hear you say that you thought my face was pretty?”
Sakusa closes his eyes, and he’s never done this before in his life, but he starts praying for strength. His mom would be so proud of him.
“God. I hate you. I hate you so much. I’ve never hated anyone more.”
“But you think I’m pretty.”
“And… scene.” Suna mumbles to himself.
“I’m sorry, Ukai-san.” Kiyoko says looking genuinely apologetic, “But I think I have an idea on how to help them get along.”
“Well, the floor is yours.” He says, “Because God knows I’m all run out of those.”
She nods, decidedly. “Leave them to me.”
The day ends with Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi sitting side by side in Shimizu Kiyoko’s appointed Time Out Corner, hands forcibly joined together between them. Fingers interlaced and everything. Atsumu has his face buried in the juncture of his arm, while Sakusa hides his own in his free hand.
“Fuck,” Suna is having the absolute time of his life, snapping pictures from different angles, as he wipes away tears from all his laughing. “Oh god, wait ‘til Samu gets a load of this shit.”
“This isn’t so bad. I think it’s gonna be an interesting story to tell in interviews.” Ukai comments. “Like how Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams didn’t get along in The Notebook and ended up dating for three years after the movie? I think this is something like that.”
“This is nothing like that.” Sakusa says gloomily.
Kiyoko stands in front of them, arms crossed. “You aren’t allowed to let go of each other’s hands! Not until you apologize to each other and promise to be nice and professional.”
Sakusa has refused to consider any moment so far in his career to be his lowest point, but he thinks this was pretty close to being exactly that.
“Fuck! I hate it here!” Atsumu yells into his arm, “Fine! I’ll be nice! I’m sorry, okay?!”
Sakusa takes a deep breath and decides to swallow his pride.
“Fine. I’m sorry, too. I’ll be professional and…” He grits his teeth, “... nice.”
“Great!” Kiyoko says, her demeanor quickly shifting from strict to cheery. “See? You two can be friends as long as you give each other a chance!”
Atsumu and Sakusa instantly rip their hands away from each other, wiping their sweaty palms on their jeans.
Demon. Sakusa thinks, as he glares at his manager. Hell-spawn woman.
“Alright, that’s a wrap for today.” Ukai says exhaustedly, like he’d just spent the day carrying the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. “See you all and… let’s do this all again… tomorrow.”
There’s a chorus of groans.
Sakusa stares down at his hand and it twitches as he thinks about the feeling of Atsumu’s hand in his, like a lingering warmth.
Like a spark that he finds himself looking for again, now that he’s felt it.
When he looks up, he sees Miya Atsumu staring at his own hand, a little like he was feeling the exact same thing.
“So, we agree we don’t want a repeat of what happened yesterday.” Atsumu says, as he plops down onto the seat beside Sakusa.
“Obviously.” He answers, without sparing him a glance.
“And we agree that we can not like each other and still be perfectly civil and professional?” Atsumu adds, “Because, listen. This is my comeback performance after a year long hiatus and I’m not about to fuck this shit up and I’m not letting you, of all people, fuck it up for me, either.”
Sakusa turns to glare at him.
“For your information, doing this film is just as important to me as it is to you, if not more.” He says sharply, “So, no, I’m not ruining this for you and you better not ruin it for me.”
“Good.” Atsumu says, flipping his hair back with all the arrogance in the world, “At least we’re on the same page. Good talk, Omi-kun.”
Sakusa breathes through his nose. “Just so you know, this doesn’t mean I like you. I’m merely tolerating you. For the sake of this damn movie.”
“We don’t have to like each other, Omi-Omi. Do ya know how many movies I’ve done with people I didn’t like?” Atsumu laughs, “We just have to be professional. And though ya haven’t done a very good job at showing it so far, yer supposedly an expert at that, aren’t ya?”
“Sure.” Sakusa says, gritting his teeth. “As long as you behave.”
Kiyoko leans towards Suna, motioning for him to lean down so she can whisper in his ear. “This is about to get bad, isn’t it?”
“Did you bring your air horn?” He asks.
“No.” She says, looking horrified. “Should I have?”
Suna shakes his head, zipping his backpack open, letting her take a peek. “I brought… this.”
“Wow.” She exclaims quietly, “I haven’t seen one of those since I was in high school.”
“What the hell are you two whispering about over there?” Atsumu asks as he swivels around in his seat, narrowing his eyes at them.
Suna instantly zips his bag closed, looking up to smile sweetly at him. “Nothing that concerns you. Go on and rehearse your lines or something. There’s another long day ahead of you.”
“Hmm…” Atsumu hums suspiciously, slowly turning back around to flip through his script. “Whatever. I don’t want any funny business later, ya hear me?”
“Course.” Suna says, crossing his arms. “When have I ever partaken in any funny business?”
The day ends with a jumbo sized jar labelled Sakuatsu Jar sitting on a table beside Ukai, that had already been filled with fifteen bills in the span of three hours.
“That’s not your line!” Sakusa yells, a hair away from getting carried away and getting sued for first degree murder, “That is literally not your line!”
“It’s called improvising, ya idiot! Haven’t ya heard of it before? I thought you were supposed to be an actor!”
“You egotistical fucking asshole—”
“You pretentious, pathetic excuse of a—”
“Sakuatsu Jar.” Kiyoko and Suna say in unison.
The two pause in the middle of their squabble, looking at each other.
“This isn’t going well, is it.” Atsumu says.
“No.” Sakusa answers.
“I’m not gonna lie, if this goes on three more times, I’m gonna run out of bills to give and I’m gonna have to put my credit card in there.” Atsumu admits.
“Don’t you dare.”
Kiyoko turns to Suna, as if looking for sympathy. He merely shrugs, like he’s past the point of being tired and has accepted their fate.
“I’m just glad we don’t live too far, honestly.” Suna says, “I need a fucking nap.”
“Really?” Kiyoko says, surprised. “Kiyoomi-kun doesn’t live too far from here, either. He’s only about fifteen minutes away.”
“Wow, that’s…” Suna blinks, a devious smile slowly forming on his lips. “Interesting information. Say, Kiyoko-san, would you indulge me in this idea that I have?”
“If it is what I think it is, then it’s a yes.” She says instantly, “It’s definitely a yes for me.”
“What’s going on here?” Sakusa asks with Atsumu right behind him, their eyebrows furrowed after having to each drop yet another bill in the jar.
“Oh, we were just having a conversation about how we’re gonna get home.” Kiyoko says, “See, I have to stay here for a bit longer to discuss something with the producers, and I know you wouldn’t wanna stay here any longer than you have to.”
“What? They don’t have anything to discuss with you…” Ukai mumbles, questioningly.
Suna shushes him gently.
“Anyway,” Kiyoko continues, “I found out from my new friend, Suna-kun, that you two actually don’t live too far away from each other! So, I figured…” She turns to Sakusa with a bright smile, “Why don’t you just hitch a ride with them for today?”
They both gape.
“Demon.” Sakusa says under his breath, “Hell-spawn woman. Deserter.”
“Fuck that!” Atsumu yells, “Don’t I get a fuckin’ say in this? I’m not gettin’ into a car with him!”
“You sure about that? Because again, Sakuatsu Jar.” Suna deadpans, boredly pointing to the said jar. “And I know you don’t have any bills left in your wallet, so you’d do well to just listen to me.”
Atsumu glares at him, like he’d never been more betrayed in his life.
“Cocksucker.” He seethes.
“Proud to be one.” Suna smirks, looking way too happy with himself. “Just one cock, though. Your brother’s, actually.”
Atsumu’s only response is a loud, high-pitched screech.
By the time they drop Sakusa off at his place, because of both Suna and Kiyoko’s insistence that the two of them sit next to each other in the back seat, Atsumu has a blooming bruise on his bicep, Sakusa has a scratch mark on the back of his hand, and Suna has a ten minute clip on his phone of the two wrestling each other down, all the while yelling a fresh collection of very colorful swear words that Suna had never heard before in his life.
( Cocking fuckhole shit sounded like it’d make a good title for a diss track.)
Suna feels like maybe if he watched the clip back muted, it’d look a lot like an angry sex tape.
Once Sakusa had stomped his way into his building and Atsumu had huffily plopped himself down on the passenger’s seat, slamming the door, it’s only then that Suna turns to him and says;
“Well. That was strangely sexy.”
“Just fuckin’ take me home before I throw my shoe at ya.”
“Oh and Atsumu?” Suna adds, a smile forming on his face.
“What.” He spits out, “What more could you possibly want from me?”
“Nothing.” He shrugs, “I just wanna point out that you’re hard.”
Atsumu looks down, pauses, and then closes his legs, looking out the window. “Fuck you.”
“No thanks. Try asking him, though.”
With that, Atsumu really does chuck his shoe at him.
“No. Kiyoko. I’m not doing it. I can’t do it.” Sakusa says, all the while popping more mints into his mouth.
“Kiyoomi-kun, I’m sorry to tell you this, but no one dragged you here.” She says, “In fact, you were the one who dragged us to leave the house thirty minutes earlier than usual. I hadn’t even finished doing my makeup. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were actually excited for today.”
“Ugh,” Sakusa groans as he pops the cap of his chapstick off and starts applying a generous amount on his lips, “I can’t believe you’re forcing me to do this.”
“I am literally just standing here.”
“Uh, guys?” Ukai interrupts, walking up to them, staring at Sakusa like he’s a foreign creature, “The mattress is set up. We can start anytime you’re ready. Don’t worry too much, Sakusa-kun. It’s not gonna be anything too intense. Just some cuddling and a little kissing, alright? Think of this as a dress rehearsal.”
“Who’s worrying?” Sakusa says, rapidly combing through his hair, “I’m not worrying. Let’s get this over with.”
Kiyoko hides her mouth with her hand and whispers, “He didn’t get any sleep last night.”
“Ah,” Ukai nods, like he understands, “That’s okay. When I checked up on Atsumu-kun a while ago, I overheard him asking his manager, in verbatim, ‘No, this is a valid concern. It’d be so embarrassing. Do you think he’d believe me if I used the it’s just my phone in my pocket excuse?’”
“Let’s get this shit over with!” Atsumu suddenly yells from the other side of the room, dressed in nothing but an oversized white dress shirt and boxers. “Omi-kun, ya ready or are ya scared?”
“Who the fuck is scared?” Sakusa argues, but it’s lacking his usual bite.
His eyes can’t help but roam over Atsumu’s body and he gulps as he makes his way towards the mattress set up in the middle of the room.
He adjusts his half open dress shirt, similar to the one Atsumu has on, except it’s in black, and drops himself down onto the mattress.
“Just get over here already.”
If Atsumu was feeling any nerves, Sakusa doesn’t see it as the man easily sits down right beside him, scooting closer and closer, until their bare thighs are touching.
The skin on Miya Atsumu’s legs are as smooth as a baby’s buttocks. Sakusa could’ve lived his whole life without knowing that.
“Well, here we are. Tell us what ya wanna see, Ukai-san!”
“So, this scene is on Page…” He flips through the papers swiftly, until he finds what he’s looking for, “Fifty-Seven. This is the part where they’d just gone through a lot, they’d just had a long day, and now they’re just lying together in bed, face to face.”
God help me, Sakusa thinks.
“And so, they’re lying face to face...” Ukai says, mimicking what he wants with his hands, “And they’re… basking in each other’s warmth and finding comfort in each other’s presence and touch.”
I’m gonna fucking die, Atsumu thinks.
“And after a few minutes of staring at each other lovingly, caressing each other’s skin, you slowly come together and kiss.” Ukai says, slowly pressing his palms together, “Tenderly, with all the love and fondness that you can muster, making it build up into… something more passionate. Think you can do that?”
Not without losing my mind.
“Of course, we can.” Sakusa says, fluffing up his pillow to find something to do with his hands.
Not without embarrassing myself.
“Easy peasy.” Atsumu adds, already lying down and positioning himself on his side.
“Okay. Whenever you two are ready.” Ukai says, taking a few steps back to give them enough space to get into their zone.
Sakusa takes a deep, calming breath before lowering himself down on his side, only to come face to face with Miya Atsumu, who seemed to already be in character.
His blonde hair is splayed almost artfully against his pillow, his cheeks slightly tinted pink and Sakusa couldn’t be sure whether that’s the makeup or just him. His dress shirt is riding up ever so slightly, making some of the skin on his hip peek out.
He looked so… undone.
He completely lies down, as carefully as he can as to not rearrange the covers, their faces close enough for him to feel Atsumu’s breath against his lips.
For a moment, they just stare at each other. They don’t touch yet, giving themselves some time to completely get into their characters and immerse themselves into the scene.
The expression on Atsumu’s face is unreadable, but it’s something soft. It’s something free of his usual unfounded animosity.
He wonders what it is that’s so different about today. Why he couldn’t find the energy to argue or find something to complain about. He doesn’t know why today, just today, he doesn’t have to fight an urge to just get this all over with.
Right now, Sakusa realizes that all he really wants to do... is touch him. In the back of his mind, he thinks that maybe that’s all he’s really wanted to do all along.
It’s Atsumu who breaks the stillness, reaching a hand out to gently run his fingers through Sakusa’s curly locks.
He can’t help but close his eyes at the feeling.
“Your hair looks pretty today.” Atsumu whispers. His breath smells like coffee. “You look pretty today.”
He isn’t sure whether it’s Atsumu or Takeru speaking, so he decides to play it safe and go with, “That feels nice.”
Half because he thinks Rui would say that and half just because it’s the truth.
When Sakusa blinks his eyes back open, Atsumu is smiling softly. He almost can’t help himself when he brings a hand to the man’s hip to lightly thumb at the soft skin peeking out, and he thinks he feels him shiver a little bit at the touch.
“Your hands are so warm.” Atsumu says, subconsciously pressing closer to him.
Sakusa reaches his free hand up to hold onto Atsumu’s wrist, bringing the hand in his hair down to his cheek, before pressing a tender kiss into his palm.
“Yours are always so damn cold.”
Atsumu snickers, scooting even closer, until the tips of their noses are touching.
“You gonna warm them up for me, then?”
Sakusa presses their foreheads together, giving him a little eskimo kiss. He thinks he feels Atsumu’s breath stutter at that and he takes it as a win.
“How do you want me to do that?”
The exhale that Atsumu lets out is fragile and shaky as Sakusa creeps the hand in his shirt up a little higher, running it over the side of Atsumu’s torso.
In response to that, Atsumu shuffles closer, slotting a strong thigh in between Sakusa’s legs.
Holy fuck. Dear God.
Sakusa knows he’s losing his grip on himself but he’s not going to lose. He is not going to lose. So, he takes it up a notch and rests his hand on Atsumu’s thigh (and god, it’s a muscular one), and squeezes it purposefully.
The silence in the room is almost deafening, so the little squeak Atsumu lets out at that, could just as well have been a scream.
“So?” Sakusa whispers teasingly, pressing his nose into Atsumu’s jaw, “Are you gonna kiss me or not, Miya?”
“Fuck you.” Atsumu grits out, lifting Sakusa’s head with a finger under his chin, and finally pressing their lips together.
Ukai had told them to be gentle and loving.
This wasn’t exactly that.
It’s a little too heated, too insistent, Atsumu moaning low, quiet profanities into his mouth as Sakusa’s hands roam all over the man’s body.
Atsumu still has a leg resting between his thighs and he, without warning, presses it up against Sakusa’s crotch.
He was already sporting a half chub so he can’t really help the way he lets himself grind down, just the tiniest bit, to give himself some much needed relief.
“Fuck,” He breathes hotly into Atsumu’s half open mouth, “Oh, fuck.”
“Touch me too.” Atsumu sighs quietly, in a tone that sounded almost desperate, like he was begging, as Sakusa ducks down to press kisses against his neck, “Touch me, Omi.”
Just as Sakusa is about to reach down in between them and chuck his hand into Atsumu’s boxers, they’re interrupted by an almost frantic voice.
“Okay! Cut! Wowza! That sure escalated quickly! ” Ukai exclaims, clapping his hands loudly, like he’s slightly panicked, “Amazing! Showstopping! Legendary! Right, everyone?”
Atsumu and Sakusa freeze completely, eyes wide, staring at each other horrified, hands stilling in each other’s shirts.
“Oh, wow.” Kiyoko says in a way that sounded like she didn’t even mean to say it out loud.
Suna whistles from beside her, lowering his phone. “Wow, am I glad I filmed that.”
“Well, with that, I don’t think we need to give them any more chemistry lessons, don’t you think?” Ukai says, turning to look at the rest of his crew. “Because honestly, it just felt morally incorrect to be watching that.”
It’s like everyone comes to a silent agreement that official filming can start as soon as possible, as Atsumu and Sakusa rip apart from each other, coughing awkwardly, straightening their clothes, and avoiding eye contact as they sit on opposite ends of the mattress.
Because they both felt that and they both heard that.
Atsumu had called him Omi. (Again.) Highly unprofessional for someone who’s supposedly been doing this whole acting thing his entire life. Sakusa was also literally a second away from wrapping a hand around the man’s cock, and he would have done it, if nobody had stopped them. Also highly unprofessional for someone who took pride in just how professional he was.
They’d both completely forgotten where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. And now, they were both really fucking hard.
Wasn’t that just the cherry on top of this Layered Cake of Horny Horrors?
“Great. Glad that’s over with.” Sakusa says, hurriedly getting up and pulling his dress shirt down to hide his lower half. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”
“Me too.” Atsumu says, heading straight for the water dispenser without a single glance at anyone else.
Once they’re successfully out of hearing range from everyone, Atsumu grabs two paper cups and hands one to Sakusa.
“So. Funny question. Feel free to pretend I never asked this if ya think it’s weird. But wanna go home together later and fuck this out of our systems?”
Sakusa doesn’t even look at him as he takes the paper cup Atsumu hands him, and fills it with water. “What do you prefer?”
“I’m asking if you top or if you bottom.” He clarifies.
Atsumu tries not to choke on his spit.
“I’m down with both, but I’ve mostly topped.”
“Good, ‘cause I’ve mostly bottomed.” He says, pausing to gulp his water down, before swiftly tossing the cup into the trash. “Your place.”
Atsumu nods, raising a shaky paper cup to his own lips as Sakusa casually walks away, like they hadn’t talked about anything out of the ordinary.
“Of course. My place.”
It’s only once he’s hydrated, walking back towards Suna, that the reality of his situation sinks in completely.
Wait. Atsumu thinks. Holy shit. Did I really just make plans to have hate sex with Sakusa Kiyoomi?
“Atsumu,” Suna says, snapping his fingers in front of his face, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Atsumu shakes his head, blinking at his manager. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong with me.”
Suna narrows his eyes, examining his friend, a knowing smirk forming on his lips.
“You guys are gonna fuck, huh?”
“The hell we are!” Atsumu glares at him, huffing as he walks away, brushing past his shoulder. “Just because we have untouchable onscreen chemistry doesn’t mean we actually wanna have sex with each other, okay?”
“Oooooooh, fuck,” Sakusa moans loudly, spreading his legs wider, clutching onto the sheets beneath him for dear life. “Right there. Harder.”
“Fuck, Omi.” Atsumu whines, scissoring him open, two knuckles deep into his dripping hole, “If yer this loud with just my fingers, how pretty are ya gonna sound with my cock inside ya?”
“Shut the fuck up.” Sakusa pants, pressing down insistently, fucking himself onto Atsumu’s fingers. “ God, that’s good. Add another one.”
Atsumu obeys, slipping his index finger in along with the other two, making Sakusa hiss, canting his hips.
“Yes.” He sighs, eyes rolling into the back of his head before closing them completely, losing himself in the feeling. “Just like that.”
“Yer so fuckin’ sexy.” Atsumu groans, leaning down to take one of Sakusa’s nipples in his mouth, sucking on it. “ So goddamn hot. Christ, I hate it.”
“Fuck , Atsumu,” Sakusa groans, a hand flying out to pull at Atsumu’s hair as he tightens around the man’s fingers, “Don’t do that if you don’t want me to come.”
Atsumu presses a wet kiss against his pink nipple, looking up mischievously.
“Hmm,” He hums, “Ya think you can come twice tonight?”
“I’m not risking that.” Sakusa says breathily, pawing at Atsumu’s wrist. “Get the fuck in me right now.”
“Always so rude.” Atsumu tsks, slowly pulling his fingers out, wiping them on his bedsheets for him to deal with later. “Someone’s oughta teach ya some goddamn manners.”
Sakusa grabs the condom and lube by his head and chucks it at Atsumu, wordlessly.
He catches it but instead of putting the condom on and popping the lube open and lathering some on his cock, he hums as if thinking about something, before pushing Sakusa’s legs closed, and climbing over him.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Atsumu scoots up until Sakusa’s head is caged between his almost unrealistically thick thighs and he looks down at him, holding the tip of his dick to his lips and asks, “Suck me off?”
Sakusa huffs and rolls his eyes as he reaches up to stroke it like it’s a chore, acting like his own cock didn’t just twitch at those words.
“What would you have done if I’d said no?”
“Then, I’d say sorry. But ya were lookin’ at my cock like it’s a fuckin’ dessert, Omi.” Atsumu pants, rubbing Sakusa’s cheek with his thumb, “Open yer fuckin’ mouth.”
Sakusa is no stranger to sucking cock. He’d call himself an expert, even. He was almost as good at it as he was at acting. He may not have done it for too many people, but he has done it a lot. His experience shows.
“Oh,” Atsumu moans, his thighs shaking almost instantly at the warmth that surrounds him, holding on tightly to the bedpost to ground himself, as Sakusa hollows his cheeks and presses his tongue against the underside of his cock. “ Fuck, baby, that feels good.”
He gently and shallowly thrusts in and out of his mouth, Sakusa taking it easily, humming as he does it, sending vibrations that Atsumu can feel down his spine.
Damn. He doesn’t remember the last time he’d been so vocal over a blowjob.
He feels himself getting closer and closer to the edge quicker than he usually would, so he pulls himself off.
“Christ,” He breathes, “Yer really good at that.”
“Good enough for you to start fucking me already?” Sakusa asks, wiping his drool on Atsumu’s pillow, which he’ll also have to deal with later.
“Impatient, are we?” Atsumu smirks, as he positions himself, stroking his cock lazily, using Sakusa’s spit as lube, as he pokes the tip against Sakusa’s rim.
The man hisses, hips twitching insistently as Atsumu rubs it back and forth, teasingly.
“Atsumu,” He growls, reaching for the man’s cock as if to put it in himself, “Hurry up.”
Atsumu’s running on his final shred of control too, so as he hurriedly rips the condom packet open and rolls it onto his dick with expert hands, he asks, “Want it hard?”
Sakusa moans, head knocking back into the pillow, as he holds his own thighs open and says, “As hard as you fucking can.”
“God,” Atsumu almost cries, pushing Sakusa’s thighs back until his knees touch his shoulders, and his legs are thrown over Atsumu’s own, finally slowly sinking into him, “ God, yer hot. Where the hell have ya been all my life?”
“Haaaaah,” Sakusa keens, back bowing, toes already curling, as Atsumu starts to slowly thrust in and out of him, “I thought… I told you… to fuck me hard.”
“What the hell are ya in such a hurry for?” Atsumu complains, arms shaking from the exertion of holding himself up while also trying not to come in twenty seconds like a fucking teenager.
“Because you’ve been teasing me with your fucking fingers for nearly thirty minutes, Atsumu,” Sakusa bites back, digging his nails into the skin of his back, “I want you to make me come and make me come now.”
Oh, he means that. Atsumu can tell, as he looks into Sakusa’s blazing eyes. He really means that.
“Yeah, yeah. Remember ya asked for it when ya can’t walk right tomorrow.” Atsumu says, taking a deep breath. “Here ya go.”
That’s the only warning he gets before he all but slams into the man with full force.
All that comes out of Sakusa Kiyoomi is a strangled moan straight from the depths of his chest.
“Yes,” He gasps more than says, like he’s never been more relieved in his life, as he uses one hand to press against the head of the bed, and the other to dig into Atsumu’s back, “Yeah, shit, Atsumu, fuck me like you mean it.”
“Look at ya,” Atsumu grunts, pounding into him almost animalistically, watching Sakusa’s leaking cock bounce against his sweaty, toned stomach, folded in half, moaning garbled profanities as tears leak down the sides of his face, “Look how fuckin’ bad ya want it.”
“Oh.” Sakusa lets out, his entire body jumping as Atsumu hits a certain spot inside him.
He reaches down to pump himself frantically, eyes squeezed shut. “Right there. God, right there, don’t fucking stop.”
“ Shit Omi, ya look so fucking good touchin’ yerself like that,” Atsumu says, fingers digging into the bedpost, “Come on my cock, baby.”
The bed springs are squeaking, the headboard banging against the wall loudly, the bedsheets coming undone as Atsumu keeps pounding into Sakusa’s abused hole, as fast and as hard as he thinks is even humanly possible.
The man beneath him lets out a desperate sob, his hand quickening in its pace, his entire face screwing up in a way that Atsumu will never forget.
“Come for me, Omi."
Sakusa keens, body twisting unnaturally as he comes, cock twitching once, twice, before making a mess all over his fist, his torso, his neck, his face, up to the wooden headboard above them.
That sight is all he needs.
“Oh shit,” Atsumu grits out, as he thrusts into him deeply one last time.
He blacks out as he comes, he’s pretty sure he’s shaking, and that he’s releasing an entire string of swear words with his face buried in Sakusa’s neck, but it’s all blurry.
All he feels is the euphoric twist in his gut and the overwhelming relief as he lets it all go inside the man beneath him, who’s still shivering from the aftershocks of his own orgasm.
By the time they both come down from their highs, they’re breathing like they’d just run a 100 meter marathon. Sakusa has an arm over his eyes, shaky legs still thrown over Atsumu’s shoulders, while Atsumu is barely holding himself up from crushing the man underneath his full weight.
“Fuck,” Sakusa breathes out, slapping Atsumu’s chest, the stickiness finally getting to him, “Get the fuck off me.”
Atsumu groans as he slowly pulls out, making the both of them hiss at the feeling. When he finally does, he collapses onto his back next to Sakusa. They let out a sigh of relief in unison.
More than just the relief of a really good orgasm after a long dry spell, it was also the staggering relief of finally getting rid of all that misplaced angry, pent up tension.
Atsumu pulls his used condom off and reaches for his wet wipes on the bedside table, handing some to Sakusa. They both silently and tiredly wipe themselves down, side by side.
Once they’re done with cleanup and are lying on their backs, they’re left only with a comforting peace and a sense of contentment being in each other’s presence that’s felt by both but left unsaid.
“Huh.” Atsumu observes, “Maybe hate-fucking is effective.”
Sakusa can’t help but silently agree.
Atsumu weakly turns his head to look at him. “Was that a one time thing or are we doin’ that again? ‘Cause I’ll be real and say that that was the best sex I’ve had in fuckin’ years and that’s sayin’ something ‘cause I’ve had a lot of it.”
Sakusa wants to glare at the man for having the sheer nerve to ask him whether or not he would ever willingly touch him again. And he would be glaring , if he didn’t just come so hard that he saw more than just stars.
He’s pretty sure there were planets, too. He feels like he might have orbited the entire Solar System and then returned to Earth in the span of a single orgasm.
He decides on something then and there.
“What if we just do this until the end of filming?” He suggests carefully, “Having sex helps us not kill each other. So, technically, it’d purely be for professional reasons.”
Atsumu can’t help the smile that makes its way to his face. Sakusa Kiyoomi, was admittedly, kind of cute.
He doesn’t know how to tell him that nothing about the way they’d been acting from the moment they’d first met had been professional.
“Professional reasons.” Atsumu repeats, amused.
Sakusa nods, like he’s fully serious, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. “Completely.”
Atsumu bites back a laugh, humoring him. “Alright. Deal. For professional reasons.”
Sakusa closes his eyes. “Once I get some feeling back in my legs… we’ll sign a contract.”
“Okay.” Atsumu hums, closing his eyes too, basking in the comfortable silence and the ever pleasant post-coital afterglow.
A few seconds later, his eyes snap back open. “Wait. We’re signing a what?”
“I can’t believe yer takin’ all the fun out of bein’ fuck buddies.” Atsumu deadpans, staring down at the pen and paper laid out on his small kitchen table. “How do ya do it, Omi? How do ya suck the joy out of everythin’ good?”
“I’m not sucking the joy out of being fuck buddies, I’m being practical.” He says, pushing the paper closer to the man in front of him. “And professional, like I said. Just sign it.”
Atsumu pouts, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the paper, before giving up and taking it.
“Fine. Let’s see what weird shit ya have written here.”
Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi’s Co-Stars With Benefits Arrangement Contract
1. The span of this arrangement will only last up to the very last day of filming. Anything past that is forbidden.
2. This arrangement will be kept top secret. For obvious reasons.
3. Absolutely no getting emotionally attached.
4. No kissing outside filming.
Atsumu immediately makes a face.
“What the hell do ya mean no kissing? We literally just had sex, we just kiss— oh. Wait. No, we didn't.”
“That falls into the no getting attached portion.” Sakusa says, crossing his arms. “Sex is one thing, but kissing is too intimate. We’re already gonna be doing a lot of that for the movie, so it’s best not to indulge off camera.”
Atsumu squirms. “Are ya sure about that one? I’m fine with everythin’ else, but sex without kissin’ just seems weird.”
“We did it just now, though. And it went perfectly fine.” Sakusa points out.
“Yeah, but that was…” Atsumu scratches his head, searching for an excuse, but he doesn’t find one. He sighs, deflating into his seat. “Yer so fuckin’ weird. God. Fine. No kissing.”
Sakusa motions insistently to the pen on the table and Atsumu grabs it sluggishly, signing one of the two blanks on the bottom of the paper.
He then hands it over to Sakusa, who does the same thing. He gives the document one last look over, before nodding contentedly.
“You keep this safe in your drawer or something.”
Atsumu purses his lips, taking the paper as he stands, folding it, before proceeding to chuck it in one of his drawers.
He turns to look at Sakusa, tiredly. “Are we good now, sir? Have I humored you enough today, my Lord?”
“If you were into that, you should’ve just told me.” Sakusa says casually, as he stands up, still slightly unstable on his legs.
Atsumu nearly chokes.
He puts on his coat and his shoes, getting ready to leave. “I’ll see you for filming then, Miya.”
Atsumu scoffs, opening the front door for him. “If you’ve already moaned my name as you came, might as well just call me it all the time, don’t ya think?”
Sakusa blushes slightly at that and Atsumu feels a little victorious at the sight.
He walks out the door and without turning around, says, “I’ll see you, Atsumu.”
Atsumu’s kind of glad that the man doesn’t turn around, so that he doesn’t get to see the stupid smile that he’s sure is plastered on his face.
“See ya soon, Omi-Omi!”
“Hey, Samu?” Atsumu says over the phone, as he helps Suna haul some of their luggage out of the trunk of the car. “We just got to the airport. Our flight’s in about an hour, I think.”
“Ah. Around two months, right?” His twin clarifies, “I know Suna’s gonna be there with ya so I’m not that worried, but fuckin’ take care of yerself out there, okay? Promise me.”
Atsumu would make fun of his brother’s protectiveness, but after everything that’s happened over the years, he knows that Osamu isn’t kidding around and that his concern isn’t unfounded.
“I will. I promise.”
“Okay… okay. ” Osamu says, exhaling like this is taking years off of his life. “Do well and have fun in Okinawa with Sakusa Kiyoomi. Try not to kill each other, please.”
“I told ya we’ve worked that out!” Atsumu argues, clicking his tongue. “Anyway, I’m giving the phone back to Sunarin. I’ll see ya in two months and I love ya! Say it back!”
“I love ya. See ya in two months.” Osamu says.
Atsumu smiles to himself and hands the phone back to his manager. “There ya go. Say goodbye to yer stupid boyfriend.”
As Atsumu fusses with his carrier, he thinks he hears Suna say things like, ‘Yes, you know I will’ ‘We’ll be fine’ ‘He’s doing a lot better, you can trust that much’ ‘Yes, I know, don’t worry, and I love you too’ and he almost rolls his eyes but doesn’t, because Kita had constantly reminded him that Osamu was only like this because of how much he cared about him, and so Atsumu was going to take it all in stride, like the good brother he is.
When Suna hangs up, Atsumu huffs out a laugh, “He worries too much, doesn’t he?”
“You can’t blame him.” Suna defends, starting to pull his luggage into the airport.
“I don’t.” Atsumu says easily, following behind him. “Anyway, is Omi here? I haven’t seen him in weeks!”
“You have sex one time and suddenly you’re excited to see him.” Suna smirks.
Atsumu scoffs, theatrically. “We didn’t have sex!”
Suna shoots him a deadpan stare.
“... Okay, so we had sex, whatever. Don’t tell anyone, ‘cause Omi will have my head if he finds out.” Atsumu admits, “But it helped, didn’t it? We don’t wanna kill each other anymore and everythin’.”
Suna faces forward, pursing his lips.
“I know I’ve been making fun of you guys, but I thought we were kidding. I’m not gonna tell you what to do ‘cause I know you already know what I’m gonna say, but just… be careful, alright?”
“I know. I will. I’ll be fine.” Atsumu assures, “I’m not plannin’ on gettin’ attached, Sunarin! My priority numero uno will always be the movie ‘n my career, alright?”
“Your priority numero uno right now should be taking care of yourself, you dumbass.”
“And that too.” Atsumu winks. “So, don’t worry. Omi and I aren’t gonna turn this into anythin’ messy. Now, where is he? I’m in the mood to annoy him.”
“Oh… well, they’re here.” Suna glances at his phone as it lights up with a few messages. “And I’m sure you’ll get all the opportunity for that later. You guys are sitting next to each other on the plane. The poor guy.”
“ Ooooh, fun.” Atsumu grins.
“Omi?” Atsumu calls out delicately, attempting to reach out and touch the man who resembled something akin to a wounded animal.
Sakusa, eyes remaining closed, raises a hand to stop him. “Don’t talk.”
“No, but Omi…” He tries again.
“Do not touch me.” Sakusa says, “Do not perceive me. Pretend you aren’t seeing anything.”
“Omi, but yer sweating.” Atsumu says, genuinely concerned. “And yer pale. I’d think you were airsick or somethin’ except we haven’t even taken off yet, so I’m wonderin’ if yer comin’ down with the flu or somethin’. Should we go and tell Ukai-san?”
Atsumu is about to stand up to do just that, until a clammy hand reaches out to hold onto his wrist.
“No. I’m not sick. Just…” Sakusa squeezes his eyes shut, taking deep breaths, “Just don’t… go anywhere.”
Atsumu cautiously sits back down, eyes focused on the man next to him.
“Omi, yer scarin' the hell outta me. What’s happening right now?”
Sakusa inhales deeply and then exhales shakily, hand still holding onto Atsumu’s wrist in a tight grip. After a moment’s hesitation, he speaks.
“I don’t like planes.”
Atsumu blinks rapidly, letting that information sink in. He doesn’t like… planes.
“Damn. That kinda sucks, Omi. I mean, yer a celebrity, y’know? We’ve gotta ride a lot of planes.”
“Gee, thanks a lot for that reminder. I did not know that.” Sakusa says robotically, “You’re really helping me out here. I appreciate it.”
Atsumu settles down, less worried now that he knows what’s going on. “Have ya never been on a plane before? Or are ya just like this every single time?”
“I can deal with bigger planes just fine now. I just make sure to knock out before we take off or listen to classical music or something.” Sakusa gulps, “But I’ve never been on a plane like this before. I never liked the idea of small planes. People say they fly a lot faster.”
“It’s not too different.” Atsumu comforts.
“I don’t like it.” Sakusa insists.
“Well,” Atsumu starts, craning his neck to look around the plane, “Where’s Kiyoko-san sitting? Wouldn’t she know what to do about this?”
“There’s nothing to do about this.” Sakusa says, still seemingly working on doing his breathing exercises, “It’s not a big deal. I just need to wait it out for a bit, that’s all.”
Atsumu bites his lower lip, worriedly. “You want me to swap seats with her?”
Sakusa shakes his head no. “I’m not a child, Atsumu.”
“Being scared of flying doesn’t make ya a child.” Atsumu assures, “Okay, but just… tell me if I can do anything to help, alright?”
Sakusa manages a weak smile at that, though his eyes remain closed. “You’re being scarily nice and agreeable today. What’d you have for breakfast?”
“I’m not about to be the asshole that was a dick to someone for bein’ scared on a plane. What kinda person do ya think I am?” He huffs, taking out a magazine from the pouch in front of him.
If he notices that the man hasn’t let go of his wrist, he doesn’t say anything about it.
Sakusa seems to calm down considerably after a few more minutes, alternating between looking out the window and taking peeks at the magazine in Atsumu’s hands.
That is, until the engine roars and the pilot’s booming voice tells them that they’re just a minute away from take off.
Sakusa very visibly tenses up at this, his breathing quickening up in pace again, squeezing his eyes shut. Atsumu inwardly panics, a little scared that it would transition into a panic attack of some sort.
“Hey, Omi? Ya gotta breathe, okay?” He comforts gently, resting his hand on his trembling arm. “Do those breathin’ exercises ya were doin’ a while ago.”
“Atsumu?” He says in a fragile voice, like he’s scared he’d go somewhere else.
Atsumu shushes him, pulling one of his jacket sleeves down, using it to wipe the cold sweat off Sakusa’s forehead.
“Yeah, that’s me. I’m here. And I’m calm, see? We’re gonna be fine.”
Sakusa twists the arm that Atsumu has a hold on, until their palms meet. For someone whose hands were usually naturally warm, Sakusa’s hands right now were abnormally cold and sweaty.
He’s squeezing his hand a little too hard, so Atsumu squeezes back to make sure his own doesn’t end up breaking from the pressure. He rubs the back of Sakusa’s hand with his thumb, back and forth, back and forth.
That seems to help ‘cause he starts trying to breathe in tandem with his strokes, the grip on his hand gradually loosening into something still tight, but less painful.
All the while that the plane lifts off, Atsumu is whispering things that he hopes are calming, and he’s not exactly sure what he’s saying but Sakusa seems to be holding onto every word so he keeps doing it.
You’re okay, Omi. We’re good. We’re alright. I’m right here.
After a little while, his breathing goes back to normal, his head bobbing to the side in exhaustion until it rests against Atsumu’s shoulder.
“Atsumu…” Sakusa mumbles, turning to his side, and snuggling his face into Atsumu’s neck.
He doesn’t seem to be in his right mind. Atsumu really is not allowed to be enjoying this as much as he is.
He closes his eyes, bites his tongue, and tries to convince himself that this was not happening and he wasn’t feeling anything. He was not feeling warm, he was not feeling giddy, and he was simply being a good co-worker and friend by helping him out during a scary moment in his life. That’s all.
“I…” Sakusa murmurs breathily into his skin, “... fucking hate you.”
Atsumu’s eye twitches. How on brand of him.
He sneakily tries to wriggle his hand out of Sakusa’s firm grip, but the boy whimpers in his half asleep state, burying his face deeper into Atsumu’s neck.
I am going to cry, Atsumu thinks as he clenches his fists, he is so cute and I am going to start crying on this plane if nobody rips him away from me right now.
But he also realizes that Sakusa had just been completely and utterly terrified. And in that moment during the peak of his fear and vulnerability, the only one he could hold onto was Atsumu.
He finds himself feeling almost… honored to be in the place that he was.
So instead of trying to run from the situation, he makes himself more comfortable in his seat, and decides to join him in taking a nap for the next three hours.
As he closes his eyes and rests his head on top of Sakusa’s, he wonders if holding his fuck buddy’s hand while they slept counted as getting attached.
And then, he makes a conscious decision not to think about that.
“Did you get that on camera?” Suna asks Kageyama, who’d been seated directly across them.
The boy nods. “I have a few pictures and a short clip of Atsumu looking like he wants to explode.”
“Nice.” Suna says, patting him roughly on the shoulder, before turning to Kiyoko. “I can’t believe you just let that happen when your kid almost had a meltdown.”
She shakes her head, looking relieved that everything turned out okay. “I didn’t make him do anything. He’s the one who said he wanted to sit next to Atsumu-kun.”
Suna raises his eyebrows, unable to hide his surprise. “Why?”
“His excuse was…” Kiyoko smiles lightly, “... that maybe if he sat next to someone annoying, he’d be so annoyed that he wouldn’t have the time to feel scared.”
Suna bites back an amused laugh, as he turns to the two unconscious actors, heads pressed together, hands intertwined on top of Atsumu’s lap.
“Is that what being annoyed looks like these days?”
Kageyama posts the sleeping picture on his Instagram with the caption ‘On our way to Okinawa to make history’.
#SAKUATSU is trending #1 on Twitter by the time they land.
Sakusa buries his face into the mattress to muffle his moans, fingers clenched tightly around the sheets, as Atsumu fucks him from behind.
“Fuck, Omi,” Atsumu groans, grabbing his ass cheeks and squeezing them in his hands, pulling them apart, “Wanted to eat ya up ever since I fuckin’ saw you this morning.”
“Shit,” Sakusa grits out, spreading his legs wider, arching his back for a better angle, “Touch me. I’m so close.”
Atsumu reaches down between Sakusa’s legs and starts pulling on his cock.
Sakusa’s arms give out at that, making him drop down to his elbows. “Yeah, like that.”
“You always make me come so fast,” Atsumu says breathlessly, pounding into him as he keeps stroking, “Always so fuckin’ sexy for me, baby.”
“Close, close, close,” Sakusa chants, “Atsumu, I’m gonna—”
Atsumu manages to catch most of Sakusa’s come in his hand, to show some consideration and respect for whoever’s gonna end up cleaning their hotel rooms.
It doesn’t take long for him after that. After a few more shallow thrusts, he grunts and shivers as he comes into the condom, pulsing so hard inside Sakusa that he thinks the man might feel it in his gut.
They’re both still panting, trying to recover, Sakusa’s face buried in the sheets and Atsumu’s forehead resting on the small of his back, when they hear a knock on the door.
“Are you two in there together?” Kiyoko calls out, “Because we have to go and get ready now!”
“Was that enough to sate ya for today?” Atsumu asks, pressing a wet kiss to Sakusa’s spine.
The man only reaches back to smack him on the arm weakly. “Get off. We have to take a shower.”
Atsumu groans, pushing himself off, before trying to shimmy back into his sweatpants, throwing the used condom, and looking for something to clean his hands with in the process. Sakusa turns so he’s lying on his back, as he similarly tries to drag his underwear and jeans back up.
It’s in the middle of their lazy after-sex routine that Suna suddenly yells, “You guys better be clothed!” and without any further warning, pushes the door open.
Fuck managers and their extra card keys.
He walks right into the sight of half of Atsumu’s ass sticking out and Sakusa in the midst of pulling his zipper up.
Suna blinks, disappointed but not surprised, while Kiyoko yelps from behind him, instantly covering her eyes.
“Fuck.” Sakusa sighs miserably, “Thought we’d manage to hide this from them just a little longer.”
“They’re having sex?” Kiyoko whisper screeches.
“Where have you been?” Suna throws back at her.
“Is this supposed to be new information?” Kageyama asks, walking past the door eating a popsicle, “I thought they’d been doing it ever since the first chemistry read.”
“Okay, enough fuckin’ gawking here.” Atsumu waves them all off, grabbing Sakusa’s outstretched hand, and pulling him up to his feet. “We’re fucking, yeah, now we all know. We’re doing it ‘cause it helps us perform better, alright?”
“And I’d appreciate it if you guys didn’t tell anyone else.” Sakusa adds, scratching the back of his neck. “I just don’t want the public to find out that I actually don’t mind touching this guy.”
“Hey.” Atsumu gripes, “I’m pretty sure ya more than just don’t mind me, if yer sex noises are anythin’ to go by.”
Kiyoko makes a distressed noise again, waving her hands in front of her. “I don’t wanna hear anything else! Just, please get decent so we can go.”
“Aye-aye, Captain!” Atsumu says, saluting playfully. “Come on, Omi. Let’s make today count!”
“Gross.” is all Sakusa says to the movie title reference, as he prepares to shower and change in his own room, but Atsumu can tell he’s biting back a smile.
Atsumu fights the urge to fist pump. It’s another win for him today.
“Did something happen with them?” Ukai asks Kiyoko and Suna, motioning to the two lead actors, sitting side by side, the tops of their heads pressed together, as they discuss their next scene.
Thankfully, the weather in Okinawa is perfect for shooting a movie set mostly on a beach. The sun is warm, but the air isn’t humid. And so Sakusa Kiyoomi, known for his complaints about… everything, hasn’t complained about a single thing so far, other than the amount of bugs. And Miya Atsumu, known for his lack of professionalism and punctuality, has been nothing but professional and punctual the past two weeks.
“Nothing at all.” Kiyoko says, shaking her head, smiling in a way that she probably hoped looked convincing, but only managed to look unnatural. “Absolutely nothing. They’ve just managed to build a very good friendship.”
“... Right, okay.” Ukai narrows his eyes, obviously unconvinced, but decides not to push the topic, “Atsumu-kun! Sakusa-kun! Are you two ready for the next scene?”
“Yeah,” Atsumu says, snapping his head up, “Just one question, though. When Takeru and Rui tackle each other to the sand and everythin’ and we freeze and look at each other, is it like a romantic freeze or a horny freeze?”
Ukai furrows his brows. “Hmm… what feels more right for the two of you?”
Atsumu turns to look at Sakusa the same time that Sakusa turns to look at him.
They nod in unison and say, “Both.”
With that, they stand and make their way to their marked positions, hair and makeup staff rushing after them to keep them in perfect condition. Everyone stares.
Ukai turns to their two managers.
“They’re seeing each other, aren’t they?”
Suna shrugs, like he doesn’t know anything. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He turns to Kiyoko, who also makes a clueless face, and then to Kageyama who simply looks away, turning his attention back to his script.
A few minutes later, after Ukai yells ‘Action!’ gone are Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi, replaced completely by the childhood best friends, Takeru and Rui.
“Say, Rui,” Atsumu says, kicking the sand beneath his feet as they walk side by side, “Remember when we were kids and we had those family beach trips every summer?”
Sakusa smiles. “How could I forget? My personal favorite is the year you fell off the canoe and hit your head against the paddle trying to get back up.”
“Hey, screw you,” Atsumu shoves him with his elbow playfully, “That was your fault.”
“Oh, it was my fault that you kept trying to stand up?” Sakusa teases, shoving him back.
“It was your fault, because you were the one egging me on to do it!” Atsumu says, finally shoving him as hard as he can, pushing them both to the ground.
“Hey, stop that!” Sakusa yells, rolling over so he has Atsumu pinned to the sand, as he starts tickling his sides.
And he’s in character, he swears he is, but the laugh that Atsumu lets out is a real one. The wide smile on his face is real and for a split second, just for that short while, Sakusa thinks that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to stay locked in that moment, for just a little while longer.
The thought disappears as quickly as it came, as Atsumu growls and pushes Sakusa off him, throwing a leg over him, pinning down both his arms with a strong grip on his wrists, their faces so close that Sakusa could kiss him if he raised his head just a little bit more.
This position… felt way too close to certain real life situations they’ve been in together.
Sakusa feels the telltale twitch of his cock against Atsumu’s. They both gulp, staring at each other dead in the eye.
“Okay, cut!” Ukai says, “That was good! Let’s do another take from a different angle!”
Atsumu hurriedly pushes himself off, turning around, and patting the sand off his clothes. “Good?”
Sakusa exhales, willing his dick to calm the fuck down and wait for work to be over. “Yeah.”
Ukai, once again, turns to the managers, speaking purely with his eyes.
Suna yawns, casually fanning himself with a spare script. “I dunno what to tell you. I don’t know anything.”
The shoot lasts late into the night, so by the time the hotel room door closes behind them, they’re past the point of desperation.
Sakusa throws his arms around Atsumu’s neck and wraps his legs around his waist. “Right here.”
“What?” Atsumu asks, pressing Sakusa against the door to ease off some of his weight, “What do ya mean right here?”
“I want you to rail me against the fucking door.” Sakusa clarifies, already using one hand to pull his swimming trunks down, so that his already hard cock peeks out. “Fast. Hard. Now.”
“Oh, Omi,” Atsumu damn near moans, burying his face in Sakusa’s neck to ravage him as much as he can without leaving lasting marks, as he pulls his own trunks down to his ankles, “Yer gonna be the fuckin’ death of me.”
The next morning, they’re back to business as usual. There’s a few suspicious bruises on Sakusa’s neck that they have to cover up with makeup, and fairly light but still slightly obvious long scratch marks along Atsumu’s back that they also have to cover up with makeup, but other than that, nothing out of the ordinary.
No one asks questions and it becomes yet another open secret.
Everyone on the set knew that Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi were gay and that they were fucking. Atsumu and Sakusa also knew that they all knew. But nobody says a word, because stranger things have happened in showbiz, and if the sex was the reason that filming had been going better, quicker, and smoother than anyone had ever expected it to, well then, who were they to complain?
And it becomes a routine. Wake up, fuck, shower, film, fuck, eat, film, fuck, film some more, eat some more, fuck some more, shower, sometimes together, sleep, but never together, repeat.
It’s a routine that works. Better than the routines Atsumu had in the past to keep himself sane, at least. And it’s a routine that keeps their onscreen chemistry burning and their relationship as co-workers civil.
So in a state of desperation to keep that routine, Atsumu tries to ignore the growing feeling in his chest, the feeling like vines trying to wrap themselves around his heart, like venom in his veins, that are causing him to hyperfocus on Sakusa’s contented smile whenever he takes his first sip of iced tea or watermelon shake in the mornings, how unruly his already curly hair gets whenever it gets wet with ocean water, how his nose scrunches up cutely when he complains about the way he can never get the damn sand out of his clothes, and the way he says his name when he’s seconds away from an orgasm, clutching onto any part of Atsumu he can reach, like he’s never wanted to hold onto anyone more.
He ignores it because the last time he’d gotten this addicted to something, the last time he’d allowed himself to get drunk on it, it had ruined him.
He wasn’t going to ruin himself again.
And he wasn’t going to let himself ruin Sakusa Kiyoomi, either.
“Atsumu,” Suna says, squeezing his shoulder as they’re being driven to their next location, “You’re sure about what you guys are doing?”
“Yeah,” Atsumu says, flashing him a practiced smile that he knows looks genuine, “I told ya not to worry too much about me, Sunarin.”
“It’s my actual job to worry about you.” Suna counters, “I’m your manager and your best friend. So, double whammy.”
Atsumu’s heart squeezes a little bit at that, so he leans down to rest his head on his shoulder. “I’ll be fine. I have you around, don’t I?”
Suna pauses. “Just don’t get too attached, alright? I don’t want to see you get into another mess when I just got you back.”
“I won’t.” Atsumu says. “I can handle myself. I promise.”
Sometimes, Atsumu truly asks himself, how many times he’s going to have to say that out loud until he’s successfully convinced himself of it, too.
Atsumu ends up bent over in half, hands clutching onto the boat’s railings so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.
He seemed to have picked up on Sakusa’s breathing exercises on the plane just a few weeks back, counting his breaths.
Sakusa has a hand over the man’s back, rubbing it comfortingly. “Idiot.”
“Be nice to me, ya dick.” Atsumu manages to get out, even after he’d just puked his guts out over the edge of the railings, “Think about how kind I was treatin’ ya on the plane on the way here. And now yer callin’ me names?”
The boat dips at a particularly big wave and Atsumu’s stomach lurches again. He groans loudly, closing his eyes, trying to go to his happy place.
“Well,” Sakusa sighs, “At least, you managed to hold out until after we finished filming the scene.”
“Thanks for acknowledging my fuckin’ level of professionalism.” Atsumu spits out, “But that’s not helping.”
“Didn’t you take any motion sickness pills?” Sakusa scolds lightly, “You knew we were gonna film on a boat today.”
“Well, they didn’t fuckin’ work now, did they?” Atsumu says bitterly, “Fuck. How much longer ‘til we get back, Rin?”
“Just a few more minutes.” Suna says, sitting with his legs crossed and sunglasses perched on his face, like it’s just the same shit as always, “Why don’t you come here and lay down or something?”
Atsumu responds to that by bending over and throwing up into the ocean for a second time. Sakusa winces, inching away from him, but continues rubbing his back as moral support. Not much comes out of him as compared to the first time, though, which Sakusa guesses is a good thing.
Atsumu spits one last time before groaning loudly, crouching down and resting his forehead against the railings.
Sakusa presses a cold bottle of water to the boy’s cheek. “Drink.”
“Yer a saint.” Atsumu mumbles with his eyes closed, taking the bottle and gulping it down.
“Slowly, you idiot.” Sakusa chides, reaching out to push his hand down, “If you don’t wanna get sick again.”
Atsumu sniffs miserably once he’s done drinking, reaching a hand out for Sakusa to hold, “Carry me.”
“Atsumu, the seats are right there.” He points out.
“After I comforted you, held your hand, calmed you down,” Atsumu whines, “... after how good I ate you out this morning—”
Sakusa takes the boy’s hand and lifts him into a fireman's carry.
“NOT LIKE THIS!” Atsumu complains, punching Sakusa’s back, weakly. “I hate you! Can’t ya romance me, just a little?!”
Sakusa drops him down onto the bench and once everything is right side up again, Atsumu’s face screws up, as he holds onto the edge of the seat to ground himself.
Sakusa feels sorry but is also kind of entertained, never having seen the man look so weak.
He reaches for his temporarily abandoned glass of wine on the nearby table and takes a sip as he cheekily asks, “Care for a drink?”
“Don’t offer him that.” Suna complains.
Atsumu only glowers at Sakusa, venomously.
“Fuck you,” He burps weakly, “I feel fuckin’ sick, you asshole.”
His miserable form makes Sakusa feel a little bad, so he sighs and plops down next to the boy.
“Alright, I’m sorry.” He placates when Atsumu shoots him a betrayed glare, motioning to his thighs, “See? I’ll let you borrow my lap, even if you’re absolutely fucking disgusting right now.”
That seems to be more than enough to make the simpleton happy, because he almost instantly falls to his side with a contented hum, making himself comfortable, as he buries his face in Sakusa’s shirt as if they’ve done this a thousand times before.
“Mmmm,” Atsumu hums, “Yer always s’good to me, Omi-Omi.”
Sakusa scoffs at the quick change in attitude. “Yeah, yeah.”
After just a few seconds of hair petting, he’s pretty sure Atsumu is already completely knocked out.
He takes the opportunity to examine the boy’s face. It wasn’t all the time that he got to be in Atsumu’s presence when he wasn’t being a pain in the ass… in more ways than one.
He was admittedly… pretty. He was mostly sharp, but soft in all the right places. His eyelashes are unfairly long and his skin is ridiculously smooth for someone who probably only ever used body wash for his face. When he laughed, it was radiant, so bright that it lit up a room. And when he’s like this, peaceful and quiet, Sakusa liked it the most.
It’s almost dumbfounding how someone could be so effortlessly beautiful. So annoyingly gorgeous when they weren’t even awake to know.
“You like him, huh.” A low voice says from behind him and he whips his head around to see Kageyama, nursing his own glass of wine. “Reminds me of when Hinata got carsick and I had to go through the same thing.”
“Oh shit, he went there.” Suna comments quietly to himself while Kiyoko pointedly turns her attention elsewhere.
Sakusa hadn’t filmed too many scenes with Kageyama since Atsumu was the one he was always filming with, so they weren’t exactly what you’d call close, but he was comfortable with him to an extent.
Not comfortable enough for this conversation, though. So, Sakusa only turns back around.
“I’m just paying back a favor.” He answers simply.
“I don’t…” He starts to say, but chokes on his own words as Atsumu moves in his sleep, tilting his head towards Sakusa’s hand, snuggling into his palm with a soft noise. He gulps, “... like him.”
Fuck, that was cute.
Sometimes, Sakusa wished that there was an instruction manual on How To Successfully Be Co-Stars with Benefits. Because these days, he’s been wondering how many times he needs to tell himself he doesn’t like him for it to be true and to remain true.
He looks down at his lap, running his thumb softly over the unconscious boy’s cheekbone.
Because for some reason, these days he feels like the more he says it, the further it gets from being the truth.
They only have a week left in Okinawa, the first time that Atsumu pops him the question.
“Hey, Omi,” He says without looking at him, as they fix up their things after a particularly tiring day of filming, “Wanna have dinner with me?”
Sakusa freezes. Dinner?
That… would be the first time that they’d ever actually be spending time together outside filming, that wasn’t either them rehearsing their lines or having rough, animalistic sex.
In hindsight, he knows that the automatic answer should be no. They signed a contract. They’re in this only for the movie and for the sex. There was no getting dinner together involved in their arrangement. No getting attached. So, Sakusa should say no. He was going to say no.
It’s definitely a no.
But when he looks up and sees Atsumu’s eyes, all he can see in them… is this delicate expression of hope. It made him look both excited and frightened at the same time and there was something so raw about it that somehow, when Sakusa opens his mouth, what comes out instead of ‘no’ is;
“Where are we eating?”
The smile that Atsumu gives him is ethereal and Sakusa decides that maybe bending the rules of their contract just this once wouldn’t be so bad.
They end up in a hole in the wall restaurant not too far away from where they’d been filming. When Atsumu had looked at the rest of the crew and told them, ‘Hey, Omi and I are gonna go have dinner, just the two of us’ no one had even blinked. He thinks he’d even heard Omi’s manager, Kiyoko go, ‘Damn, finally.’
Atsumu doesn’t know what the fuck that was supposed to mean.
Sakusa scans the barren place, as if trying to make sure it’s clean and safe. Atsumu fights the urge to roll his eyes.
“Okay, Mr. Fancy Pants, I get it, you’ve never eaten dinner out anywhere that didn’t cost a whole kidney and a lung.”
Sakusa makes a face, as he pulls out a chair. “What? How much money do you think I have?”
Atsumu raises his eyebrows as he does the same, “So, you’re not from a rich family then?”
“God, the media always exaggerates everything.” Sakusa sighs, “We were well-off, but it’s not like we lived in a fucking mansion. We had a nice car, I guess. If anything, aren’t you supposed to be the rich kid, Mr. Child Star?”
A waiter approaches their table with menus in hand and they can tell from the starstruck look on his face that he recognized the both of them, but much to their appreciation, he treats them like he would any other customer.
“Well, we weren’t exactly making a fortune off fuckin’ milk commercials and two minute guest appearances on TV shows with shitty ratings, Omi-kun. And we were flat broke to begin with.” Atsumu retorts, “And I’ll just get some Tonkotsu with some Coke, please. Thank you.” He says, facing the waiter with a smile.
“Yeah, yeah, then you and your brother hit the jackpot with The Parent Prank. ” Sakusa says, “I know, I’ve watched all the interviews. And Miso Ramen for me, please.”
The waiter bows at them nervously before shuffling away.
Atsumu smirks. “So… you’ve watched my interviews, huh?”
Sakusa freezes for half a second, before composing himself with an awkward cough.
“Whatever. Screw you. I was an aspiring young actor doing research on other famous actors. I was being professional and learning from you.”
“Being professional would be watchin’ my movies, what did my stupid interviews have to do with anything?” Atsumu teases. “Plus, I was hungover half the fuckin’ time. I don’t think ya could’ve gotten anythin’ of substance from any of ‘em.”
“Oh, I could tell.” Sakusa says knowingly, taking a sip of his water. “I could really tell.”
Atsumu chuckles lightly. “But hey, that ain’t fair. Ya know all about the backstory of how I got into acting, but I dunno jackshit about you. You’ve barely even done any interviews.”
Sakusa raises his eyebrows. “What does my backstory have to do with you?”
Atsumu pouts indignantly. “I know how ya sound when you come in so many different variations, depending on whether I’m usin’ my mouth, hands, or cock ‘n yet I don’t even know what yer mother does for a living.”
Sakusa’s eyes widen, leaning forward. “Atsumu, what the fuck, shut up, we’re in public!”
“Loosen up, ya damn square, we’re the only customers here.” He waves his hand to lazily motion around the place, “If ya really want me to shut up, then humor me and just tell me about yer life.”
Sakusa huffs, settling into his seat with his arms crossed, like a child being told to do something he doesn’t want to.
“... My mom wanted to be an actress when she was young.”
Atsumu perks up with interest, leaning in. “And?”
“It didn’t work out. It was a pipe dream, she said. She ended up becoming an elementary school teacher. But she was in charge of the drama club there.” Sakusa explains, a warm smile making its way to his face unconsciously.
Atsumu’s heart softens at the sight. “So, it was yer dream ‘cause it was yer mom’s dream, huh?”
“Something like that.” Sakusa says at the same time that two bowls of ramen are placed in front of them. “That and because I watched Titanic and kept thinking that I wanted to be Leonardo Dicaprio.”
Atsumu follows the waiter with his eyes as he walks away and once he’s out of sight, asks, “You wanted to be him or do him?”
Sakusa shrugs. “Both.”
Their eyes meet and slowly their lips curl, until they burst out laughing in unison.
“Fuck you.” Sakusa chuckles, reaching for his chopsticks. “Let’s just eat.”
Atsumu realizes that there’s probably nothing in the world he wouldn’t do to keep making Sakusa Kiyoomi smile at him like that.
“So ya told me ‘bout yer mom… how ‘bout yer dad?”
Sakusa hums into his noodles, chewing a bit before talking. “He was a failed actor. He didn’t want me to go down the same path… said it ruined his life and he didn’t want me to ruin mine. I did it anyway. I’m glad I did and so is he.”
Atsumu hums in acknowledgement, digging into his own ramen.
“Ruined his life?” He asks, curiously.
Sakusa lowers his gaze to his bowl. “He’s a recovering addict.”
“He’s been clean for over five years now.” Sakusa adds quickly, “He’s made some mistakes that I’m still trying to forgive him for, but he’s been making up for them.”
Atsumu smiles gently but doesn’t look up from his food. “Good man.”
“He does his best.” Sakusa says. Eager to change the topic, he adds, “What about you?”
Atsumu makes a questioning noise. “What about me? Haven’t ya watched all my interviews?”
Sakusa shoots him a dirty look. “Will you fucking let that go?”
“Never.” He winks, “I’m holdin’ it over yer head for the rest of yer life, Omi-Omi.”
Sakusa sighs tiredly, but decides to let it slide.
“I mean, tell me something you haven’t talked about in any of those interviews.” He says, “I want something coming from an older, wiser, less hungover Miya Atsumu.”
“Hmmm,” Atsumu croons, “So yer lookin’ for a fresh scoop on me? Ya gonna rat me out, Omi-kun?”
“I told you things about me that the public doesn’t know.” Sakusa replies easily. “So, it’s a fair trade.”
Atsumu narrows his eyes at him playfully, examining him, but Sakusa only regards him with a tilted brow.
Atsumu shrugs, going back to his meal.
“Okay. Then…” He says, mixing his soup, “Sunarin actually only started officially bein’ my manager this year. Before that, he was just my childhood best friend slash my brother’s boyfriend. I hired him ‘cause my last manager was an asshole who didn’t actually give a shit about me.”
“What does that mean?” Sakusa asks, “What’d he do?”
“You saw me.” Atsumu huffs out a laugh that sounded anything but humorous, “The whole damn world saw me. I was a teenager goin’ off the rails and what was he doin’ about it? Absolutely fuckin’ nothing. Nothing other than sellin’ out information about me for money, anyway.”
Christ. It isn’t the first time he’s heard something like that happen, but still.
Sakusa bites the inside of his lip, wanting to ask something, but not knowing whether it’s the right time or place. Or if it was something Atsumu would ever want to answer, in the first place. But he does, anyway.
“Why did you go off the rails?”
Sakusa had always wondered that. He knew full well how difficult it was to live in the spotlight. The past five years for him had been amazing, almost dream-like… but overwhelming all the same. He never really wondered why so many child celebrities ended up the way they did. It’s hard enough being a kid, figuring yourself out, growing up, and making mistakes along the way. What exactly do you do when the entire world is watching you do it? What do you do when everyone is telling you what to do and who to be, when you haven’t even grown enough to know who you really are?
Sakusa wasn’t one to lurk on social media or religiously read articles and watch videos on celebrity gossip, but he has heard all the theories. There were a lot of them. Some saying it was a bad breakup, some saying it was family issues, some saying it was just friends being bad influences, but most of them were centered around the fact that Miya Atsumu started going down the wrong path after his more responsible twin brother decided to leave showbiz, leaving him behind to get all the spotlight and shoulder all the pressure of being the breadwinner of the family.
“Well,” Atsumu says, visibly gulping nervously, avoiding eye contact, “To be fair to me… while some of the rumors about me weren’t too far off from the truth, a lot of them weren’t true at all either.”
“I never cheated on those girls from Scream. Hell, I never did anythin’ with either of ‘em.” Atsumu says exasperatedly, “I dunno where the hell those rumors came from and why the fuck I just kept gettin’ linked with all these actresses I’d never even spoken more than two words to, and it sucked ‘cause everyone believed ‘em no matter what I said.”
Sakusa feels a twinge of guilt for buying into all of it, too.
“But I guess I couldn’t blame ‘em. I had a reputation and that reputation was my own fault.” Atsumu continues, “I… well, I was goin’ through a rough patch, that’s all. And I made some mistakes because of it.”
He looks up at Sakusa and smiles weakly.
“There’s somethin’ I never said in any of those interviews.” He says softly, “That I was goin’ off the rails… because I was just havin a really fuckin’ hard time. And I didn’t know what to do.”
Sakusa recognizes when Atsumu starts acting, because his face doesn’t change at all, but his hands are trembling in a way that looked like he couldn’t help it even if he tried.
He doesn’t really think before he does it, his body working faster than his mind when he reaches out to lay a hand on top of Atsumu’s. The man instantly turns it so it’s palm up, taking Sakusa’s hand in his and squeezing, taking a deep breath.
A silent thank you, I appreciate it.
Sakusa can recognize when someone had gone through something they’d rather not talk about.
“Wanna keep eating?” Sakusa asks quietly, after a few moments of comforting silence to give Atsumu time to pull himself back together.
Atsumu recognizes it as the man giving him an out of this conversation, so he takes it with a nod.
“Yeah. The food here is good, isn’t it, Omi-kun?”
Once Sakusa’s sure he’s okay, he gently pulls away, naturally going back to his normal demeanor. “I guess your taste in restaurants isn’t so bad.”
Atsumu bites back a smile as they continue eating their meals.
The walk back to their hotel is relatively quiet, both comfortable and tense at the same time. Because they’d come to realize that what they’d just done doesn’t exactly fall into their strange arrangement . Did co-workers who have casual sex also have late night dinners like this? Did they not?
What exactly were they supposed to do with the answer?
It’s only by the time they’re in front of the doors to their rooms, standing side by side, that they realize that they hadn’t even had sex at all the entire day.
There’s a silent question hanging in the air, wondering which option was worse.
To have sex even after all that, just to keep from breaking the routine more than they already have, or to not have sex after all that, because if they did then it’d feel way too personal for co-stars with benefits.
They pause and then Sakusa motions to the other with his hand.
“You go first, then.”
“Uh,” Atsumu hesitates, a hand flying up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly, “Do ya wanna maybe… end the night with a bang?”
Sakusa holds his breath. “Meaning?”
“We don’t have to have sex.” Atsumu says, voice low in case anyone was out in the hallways, “I kinda just really wanna eat you out.”
Sakusa feels a heat start to build in his groin at an impressive speed.
“Fuck you,” He sighs exasperatedly, yanking Atsumu away from his door by the front of his shirt and pulling him towards his own room, “How the fuck am I supposed to say no to that?”
Ten minutes later has Sakusa splayed naked on his back, holding his own thighs open by the back of his knees, as Atsumu fucks him with his tongue until he’s a garbling, incoherent mess.
“That feels s’good, shit” Sakusa slurs, pressing into Atsumu’s mouth deeper, toes curling as the man stiffens his tongue inside him, “Fuck, Atsumu, god , lick my ass.”
Atsumu loved it.
He loved how he could turn Sakusa Kiyoomi from this competent, kind of frigid, always put together actor to this babbling, sweaty, trembling mess put on display for him right now.
He fucks, licks, and slurps, drowning himself in every curve, every noise, every little detail of him, as the man moans and shakes, fingers tightening impossibly in Atsumu’s hair.
“Shit,” He gasps urgently, “Atsumu… fuck, don’t stop, I’m gonna come.”
Only he gets to see this. Only he gets to see him fall apart like this. Only he can make him fall apart like this. Only he can see him be so goddamn bare, beautiful, and filthy.
“Fuck—” Sakusa’s cock twitches as he comes completely untouched, his mouth open into a silent scream, one hand clenched tightly around his leg, digging into his own skin, and the other buried in Atsumu’s hair, pushing his face deeper into his ass, Atsumu feeling his pretty little hole flutter against his tongue.
Once he’s done trembling and Atsumu’s cleaned them both up, Sakusa smiles at the ceiling, closing his eyes, looking mollified.
Atsumu lies next to him, close enough for their arms to touch. It’s warm.
“Fuck. Thanks. I needed that.” Sakusa exhales, turning his head tiredly to look at the man beside him. “What do you want? Do you want me to suck you off?”
He’s glowing, Atsumu notices. Sakusa always glowed after a really good orgasm and his skin would be flushed into this gorgeous color, but it was different tonight. Maybe the ramen was just that good, or maybe it’s because he’d smiled a lot more today with him, more than he ever has.
He was just... radiant.
Atsumu realizes something at that moment. Something that scares him down to his bones and he can only hope that the smile that he gives him doesn’t look as fragile as it feels when he says, “I’m alright. I’m kinda tired tonight.”
“Oh.” Sakusa looks suspicious, but doesn’t push it. “Okay. If you’re sure.”
And Atsumu knows he rushes more than he usually does out the door, but he doesn’t know what else to do. Because he knows exactly what he wanted at that moment, and it didn’t have anything to do with orgasms.
He just wanted to stay. He just wanted to hold him until they fell asleep in each other’s arms. He just wanted to make him smile more. He just wanted to make him laugh.
And in that moment, more than anything else, Atsumu thinks as he walks into the darkness of his own room and collapses into his cold, empty bed, he just really fucking wanted to kiss him.
The next morning, they find out there’s an article out about them, along with a few pictures of them eating together in a hole in the wall restaurant in Okinawa taken from a distance, titled ‘SAME AGED STARS MIYA ATSUMU AND SAKUSA KIYOOMI, SEEN DINING OUT TOGETHER IN OKINAWA IN THE MIDST OF FILMING ‘MAKE IT COUNT.’’
Sakusa scans the article and doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary. There’s a mention of Atsumu’s disappearance and linking Sakusa to it, wondering what role he could’ve played in bringing him back from the dead, but he doesn’t even want to get into how stupid that was.
“See, if one of us was a girl, it would be an instant dating rumor.” Atsumu points out, “The double standard of it all.”
Sakusa blinks at the iPad screen. “This is a good thing, though, right?”
“Sure.” Ukai says, shrugging. “It’s good publicity.”
Sakusa keeps staring at the pictures, at the bright smiles on both their faces and at the glimmer in his own eyes that he doesn’t recognize. He’s glad that they hadn’t caught them holding hands, but still.
It was there and it was visible.
That comfort and warmth that he knew was there but wouldn’t let himself acknowledge.
If one of them was a girl, it would be an instant dating rumor, Atsumu had said, and he was right.
Because it didn’t matter how Sakusa looked at it, it didn’t matter how much he thought about their dumb contract, and their sex for professional reasons only arrangement. It was a date.
Last night, they’d gone on a fucking date.