Invisible String

"Thank you, Omi!" Atsumu runs across the room, jumping into Kiyoomi's arms, Barbeque not far behind. She happily licks at the back of Kiyoomi's exposed knees, startling him.

"Barbie! I thought we established no licking!"

His only response is another lick. Atsumu giggles. "That's our girl."

"Damn straight." Kiyoomi leans down and brushes their lips together. Barbeque nudges her head against the back of his knees and he stumbles forward, their noses colliding. Atsumu pulls away and bursts into laughter, his head leaning back as his arms wrap around the back of Kiyoomi's neck.

Kiyoomi looks at his boyfriend, the morning sun reflecting off of his platinum hair. He's glad that he is the only one who can see him like this. Messy hair, a crumpled old shirt that once belonged to Kiyoomi hanging off one of his shoulders, definitely a size or two too big. He knows Atsumu would rather die than let anyone see him like this, judging by the amount of time he spends getting ready for even a small trip to the grocery store.

He's never felt this way towards someone before. Actually, he quite often doesn't have any feelings, negative or positive towards a person. But for some reason, his heart has always been unequivocally full of adoration for the man right in front of him. Even back in their first year of high school when Kiyoomi noticed him at nationals. His hair was piss yellow, obviously never having touched toner a day in its life. And he was loud . His voice carried through the whole gymnasium, and while usually, that would annoy Kiyoomi to no end, he couldn't help but stare at the boy.

Motoya had asked him why he didn't just choose Osamu. They did have the same face after all, and the grey-haired twin was less noticeably annoying (keyword: noticeably). All Kiyoomi could respond with was that no, he couldn't choose Osamu because he wanted Atsumu . And only Atsumu . Motoya quickly checked if he had a fever.

It took all of his guts to approach Atsumu after the tournament, which they both ended up losing. Some other team made it to 1st. But Kiyoomi felt like a winner as he boarded the train that day with a certain setter's number in his phone.

Now, 7 years into a relationship, he's never been more grateful that 15 year old him had the courage.

Kiyoomi buries his head into Atsumu's exposed neck, a deep crimson blush coating his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Atsumu changes his position, so now his arms are tightly wrapped around Kiyoomi's center. He leans forward, pressing his forehead onto Kiyoomi's shoulder.

---

An hour later, Atsumu leaves for the studio, kissing Kiyoomi on the cheek goodbye and ruffling Barbeque's hair.

"I spent so long on her hair today!" Kiyoomi whined. He bent down to redo a clip that came off.

"Oops, sorry dear. See you later?"

Kiyoomi looks at him, eyebrows raised. "Of course I will see you later, you literally live here."

Atsumu laughs and right before he closes the door behind him, he yells out, "Walk her!'

"Yeah yeah."

It takes him another hour to psych himself into it. What if he lost her? He knew he wasn't nearly as fast as Atsumu, so if she somehow ran loose, he would not be able to catch up. And she had a tendency to bolt as soon as she could. Slipping on his trainers, he takes deep breaths. He's not going to lose her. She won't run away.

He finds her trotting near the door, clearly knowing what comes next. He reaches over to her neon pink leash and latches it onto her matching neon pink collar. Atsumu teased him relentlessly for the purchases. She pants, spinning around Kiyoomi in circles, her tail wagging swiftly of excitement.