tea

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"So, when're ya gonna gimme it?"

Atsumu always asks the same question and he always gets the same answer. He knows this. God, they've probably had this conversation hundreds of times. And they're probably going to have it a hundred more. It just seems wrong, an absolute injustice, completely off the mark-

"We've already had this conversation before, if I'm remembering correctly," Kiyoomi scoffs at him after swallowing down the last bite of his onigiri. Atsumu nods his head from side to side - a thin cover up for the way he watches lanky fingers twirl hoodie strings around flushed knuckles.

"Okay...sure, but if I'm rememberin' correctly- An' I am, the last time we had this conversation, ya slapped me in the face with a pillow so..." he takes a gratuitous bite of his fatty tuna onigiri - Osamu is good for something after all, as it turns out - and raises both eyebrows. "Consider this an extension'a that."

Kiyoomi huffs in that cute way that has his cheeks flushing and his lips pouting - so kissable, it's a wonder no one's taken initiative before. Or maybe they have and Kiyoomi is lying when he claims no one has ever wanted that with him before. That has to be a lie right?

The idea of it is completely unfathomable.

"I already told you why I'm not giving you my number," he sighs, and, yeah, Atsumu knows why. But he's going to make him say it as many times as the spiker is willing until he realizes how absolutely stupid that rule is (and how absolutely deprived Atsumu feels without him).

"I got absolutely no recollection'a that,"
Atsumu lies. "Tell me again."

Kiyoomi knows he's lying, the look on his face combined with the narrowing of inky-black eyes says all it needs to, but Atsumu knows he'll say it anyway. It's like an unspoken agreement - Kiyoomi caves to Atsumu's bratty demands and, in return, Atsumu doesn't make his life the living hell they both know the setter could.

"I don't give my number to people for non-business purposes unless I've already known them for ten years," see? Stupid. Or at the very least, not inclusive of lovesick best friends.

"But Omi," he whines uselessly. His mind won't change, Atsumu has tried - aggressively. "That means I won't get ta text ya until I'm thirty-two! What if ya leave me before then?"

"Okay, first of all, thirty-two isn't even middle-aged. I don't know what you're freaking out about," there's something of a laugh in his voice, but it smooths itself out the moment it shines through. "And secondly, I'm not a flake, Atsumu. When I start a friendship, I commit to it."

At that, Atsumu feels warm, happy, and he couldn't stop the grin that spreads across his face even if he wanted to. Everything with Kiyoomi feels like that though, he really shouldn't be surprised by now. And still each time, it still catches him off guard.

"So...yer sayin' yer committed ta me then?" He flattens his arms across the table and leans forward in a stretch like a child.

Kiyoomi shakes his head, but there's a small smile playing on his lips. Atsumu cherishes it, taking a mental picture to put next to all his others - eventually his wall will overfill and he'll have to organize all the perfect memories, but that hasn't happened yet

"Unfortunately, yes."






Group Chat: hot bitches only
[sugarbaby, oinkoinkbitch, yuwuji, and 2 others]




ATSUMU: okay so here's the tea 🙄



YACCHAN: oooh what kind??



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