Archive of Our Own ^beta

Kiyoomi had few obsessions throughout his life. There was volleyball, cleaning, and murder mysteries. He never expected to get obsessed with another thing that consumed his life.

Miya Atsumu.

He was loud and obnoxious. He was way too friendly and laughed at jokes that aren't even funny. It was genuine laughter, too, which Kiyoomi could feel in his heart. Miya Atsumu would smile and it would make Kiyoomi weak in the knees.

It was honestly disgusting.

Kiyoomi even had to admit to himself that Atsumu was, dare he say, cute. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. His stomach turned like he ate something bad. Atsumu took care of himself. Of course he put in the usual hours at the gym just like the rest of the team. But he spent so much time in the locker room applying different moisturizers and fixing his hair.

Kiyoomi removed his gloves to get ready for practice. One thing about being obsessed with things was that it could be annoying. He was hyper aware of even the smallest detail. It made his skin crawl and his heart race if he put too much thought into it.

He walked into the gym and was greeted with a sight that made him stop in his tracks.

Since Kiyoomi had known him, Atsumu had bleach dyed hair. It never looked damaged, though. That was probably due to the excessive care Atsumu put into his physical appearance. His hair always looked soft, and if Kiyoomi stood close enough he could smell the products he used.

What used to be blond was now a bright, bubblegum pink. Against Atsumu’s skin tone it looked good. He watched Atsumu push his hair back, which was pointless considering it fell back into the same mess it was in. He seemed to notice Kiyoomi and smiled.

Kiyoomi was so happy he decided to keep his mask on. If any of the team saw how much he was blushing they wouldn’t let him live it down.

“Hey, Omi-Omi,” Atsumu would be the literal death of him, “Whatchya think of the hair?”

‘Beautiful. Amazing. So fucking cute. I want to touch you.’

That last thought was terrifying.

“It’s fine,” Kiyoomi said.

Atsumu pouted, “Just fine?”

Kiyoomi clutched the strap of his bag to try and ground himself. He’s pretty sure he would faint. Everything felt so warm. There was no safe option here. If he spoke he definitely would say something dumb. But if he didn’t react then he’d look just as dumb.

He settled on rolling his eyes.

Practice was hell. Every little movement Atsumu made drew Kiyoomi’s eyes to him. Sometimes he would be caught staring. He wasn’t sure what Atsumu was thinking because he wouldn’t do anything other than turn the other way.

Kiyoomi was too distracted to notice the ball that whacked him in the face. He was in too much shock to feel any pain. The team went silent around him.

“I’m so sorry!” Shouyou approached him slowly, “Ah! Omi, your nose is bleeding.”

Kiyoomi could feel it all now. The searing pain and the warmth from his nose. His face was throbbing.

“Excuse me,” Kiyoomi went to the bathroom.

As he was cleaning up, Atsumu walked in.

“Came to check on ya,” He explained, “Shouyou is pretty worried.” Atsumu dared to look worried himself.

He took a step closer and Kiyoomi freaked out, “Stop! I’m fine.” He finished cleaning and turned to Atsumu, “I’m fine,” he said in a calmer tone.

Atsumu handed him an ice pack. Kiyoomi carefully wrapped his hand towel around it and placed it on his face.

“Are ya feeling okay? You’re usually not so distracted.”

Kiyoomi closed his eyes and sighed, “I’m going home.” He was embarrassed more than anything.

Atsumu moved aside for him. Kiyoomi could feel Atsumu’s eyes follow him as he left.

The first thing Kiyoomi did when he got home was shower. His mind drifted off to the thought he had earlier. He wanted to touch Atsumu’s hair. It was terrifying to admit to himself. But he wanted to know what it felt like against his skin.

“I’m screwed,” He said.

Kiyoomi wasted his time watching TV. His face hurt and he was sure that he would go into full blown panic if he didn’t distract his mind. He was almost asleep when there was a knock at the door.

Kiyoomi groaned and got up. He had a strong urge to shut the door when he saw Miya Atsumu at his step. Atsumu must have known, so he placed his hand on the door to keep it open.

“Hey,” Atsumu smiled.

His cheeks were flushed. The pink on his cheeks paired well with his newly pink hair. Kiyoomi really was screwed when it came to Atsumu.

Kiyoomi stepped aside to let him in. He watched Atsumu remove his shoes. His hands itched to reach out to the hair that had fallen forward when Atsumu lowered his head. Kiyoomi kept his hands at his sides.

Atsumu walked in and whistled, “I don’t think I’ve ever been inside your place before.”

Kiyoomi hummed in acknowledgement.

“So, what was with ya today?” Atsumu turned to meet his eyes.

‘You.’

“What do you mean?” Kiyoomi played dumb.

“Well,” Atsumu briefly looked away, “for one ya kept lookin’ at me. Did I do something?”

‘Your hair looks beautiful. Your smile is too bright. I hate your laugh and want to hear it all the time. I want to —’

“No.”

Atsumu breathed out, “Oh, that’s good to hear.”

“You really think I wouldn’t tell you if I was mad?” Kiyoomi bit the inside of his cheek.

“Well, no,” Atsumu laughed.

Kiyoomi tried to muffle his own laughter. It came out in an awkward strangled noise.

Atsumu laughed even louder, “What was that noise?”

“Shut up,” Kiyoomi blushed.

“Seriously, though,” Atsumu moved closer, “what happened?”

‘You did. You did. You did.’

“Nothing.”

“Bull,” Atsumu crossed his arms.

Kiyoomi stayed quiet.

“Omi,” Atsumu lowered his voice, “you’ve been actin’ weird with me for awhile now.”

“Have I?”

Atsumu glared at him. Kiyoomi could see the different emotions running through his mind. Atsumu mussed up his hair. His super cute, bubblegum pink hair.

Kiyoomi was going to lose it.

“You’re so frustrating!” Atsumu said.

“You know what’s frustrating?” Kiyoomi heard the words come out of his mouth before he processed them, “How you smell so good and look so put together, but you’re so brash. Or how you just smile that stupid smile and expect me to be able to pay attention to anything else.” Kiyoomi could feel his heart beating, “It’s frustrating how much I want to touch you!”

Atsumu froze.

Kiyoomi broke him. He was sure of it. Atsumu was probably going to laugh and then tell the team everything. Kiyoomi felt dumb.

“Ya what?” Atsumu’s mouth hung open.

“Not like that, pervert,” Kiyoomi looked away. Anywhere was better than this.

“Omi…”

“Your hair.”

Atsumu was quiet. A rare occurrence. Kiyoomi saw him staring out of his peripheral.

“I want to touch your hair.”

“Ya just had to ask.”

Kiyoomi’s heart was in his throat. It was going to come out, he was sure of that. Or he was going to have another nose bleed. Both sounded awful.

“With gloves or —”

“Without,” Kiyoomi interrupted. “Without gloves,” He covered his face, “this is awful.”

Atsumu lowered his head. Kiyoomi started to reach out but stopped halfway.

“This is weird,” He frowned.

“Kinda,” Atsumu laughed, “but I don’t mind.”

It helped that Atsumu couldn’t see him. Kiyoomi knew his entire face was red. He felt ridiculous. He wanted to laugh.

Slowly, he rubbed a few strands between his thumb and index finger. He watched them slip out of his hold. He gently rubbed his knuckles against his hair before turning his palm over.

Atsumu’s hair was as soft as Kiyoomi thought it would be. He watched his fingers get lost in the mess that was Miya Atsumu’s hair.

“Feels nice,” Atsumu said.

“Yeah,” Kiyoomi responded before realizing that wasn’t a question.

Atsumu lifted his head back up. Kiyoomi pulled away and looked at his hand.

“Are ya all good now?”

‘No.’

‘I want to touch you more.’

‘I like you.’

“Yes.”

Atsumu’s smile was wide. It made Kiyoomi’s chest ache. He lost all other thoughts besides Atsumu’s stupid, beautiful smile.

Miya Atsumu was going to be the actual death of him.