Mister Clean Freak || Sakusa Kiyoomi

sixty-four

"dude. what." atsumu's groggy voice responds from the other side of the phone. "it's literally ten the evening. what in gods name do you want from me."

sakusa heaves a deep sigh, hand on his forehead, profusely rubbing it until he feels that familiar burn. he still doesn't talk, opting to rather sigh and mumble incoherent sentences underneath his breath.

"omi, seriously—"

"howdoyoumakeagirlnotmadatyouanymorehelp."

atsumu who was once groggy turns confused. he pulls his phone out of his ear and looks at the contact, making sure he is talking to the sakusa kiyoomi.

"dude, what?" he says aloud, confusion obvious in his voice. "what the hell did you just say?"

sakusa sighs, clicking his tongue and releasing another frustrated sigh. "never mind. it wasn't—"

"you said 'how to make someone not made at you anymore' was that what you said?" atsumu repeats, though unsure of his words. clearly, he isn't sure if that's what the other man had said or he just has to go to another trip to the doctors because it is very unlikely for sakusa kiyoomi to say that.

"am i going deaf? or are you— for once— actually worried (Y/N)'s gonna stay mad at you?"

"shut up."

a loud high pitched hyena like laugh comes from atsumu who stands on the other side of the phone. he's slapping his muscular thigh, laughing so hard to the point where he's releasing dry coughs straight from his throat. sakusa who's on the receiving end of the phone, profusely rubs the at bridge of his nose, feeling his embarrassment go high and patience run thin.

"i seriously hope you cough a lung." sakusa sighs, placing the phone on the counter and frustratedly running his hands through his curly locks.

atsumu stops laughing and starts choking on his own spit, punching at his throat an chest to release the up air and spit. he stops for a moment, grabbing the bottle of water beside him, and taking a deep breath before placing his phone back to his ear.

"so.. what'd you do?" atsumu asks, leaning back into his bed.

"i don't know." sakusa grabs his phone and makes his way to his room, cautious enough to tiptoe and not make any noise. "there was this kid talking to her and he was— they know each other from college."

"okay, and what was the big issue?"

"he was hitting on her!" he unintentionally raises his voice, but immediately pipes down when he realizes how loud and how uncalled for that was. "didn't mean to do that, sorry." he mumbles.

atsumu nods, putting his phone up on loud speaker and opening his computer that stands by the end of the bed. "apology taken." he says as he opens his computer in a whim.

"so tell me, what did this kid look like?" atsumu asks.

"what. you gonna search him up or something?"

"never hurts to try."

sakusa looks at his phone and clasps his hand together. he doesn't know what to do at this point. he feels helpless, tired, annoyed, and pissed at the same time.

"i sound stupid. why am i making a big deal out of nothing. seriously, i should just—"

"you're going to let a man hit on your girl, risk the chances of him sweet talking her into bullshit. it's not on (Y/N), she has no choice but to not say anything about y'all's relationship status because— and you quote 'i'm a pro athlete, and she's a manager of a rival team— it's too risky for now, and there are kids, they would be in such a mess if we say it this early'."