Thread by @ChangelingAO3

#sakuatsu #omegaverse pregnant Omi part 12

“Stop fiddling with your tie,” Kiyoomi snaps as soon as Atsumu’s fingers twitch towards his throat.
They’re in a taxi on their way to a very expensive restaurant near Kiyoomi’s parents’ house and Atsumu is starting to swear bullets.

He’d looked up the restaurant and it’s menu online with Osamu before he left and nearly copped a pan to the face for refusing to bring a doggie bag back to Osaka for him.
“It’s unseasonably warm,” Atsumu lies. It’s actually quite crisp out but, despite Atsumu having worn suits—

—frequently over the years (press events, sports galas, weddings), it’s only now that he’s felt that his tie is trying to strangle him.
Kiyoomi ignores this in favour of rooting through his bag for his tin of mints.
He’s brought almost a whole case of peppermints with him and—

—when Atsumu joked that Kiyoomi’s morning breath couldn’t possibly be that bad he’d received a scathing look and a reminder that mints helped with nausea.
Atsumu had decided shutting up was his best course of action after that.

And he’s keeping to that plan despite being bitterly jealous of the fact Kiyoomi gets to wear some kind of chic beige smock thing that disguises his tiny bump, and goddamn leggings.
Atsumu has to wear a penguin suit and get strangled by a tie while Kiyoomi is the picture of—

—comfort.
Somehow he still looks better and more appropriately dressed than Atsumu but that’s besides the point.
“You’ll be fine,” Kiyoomi adds once he’s aggressively chewed a mint. “It’s me they’ll be pissed at.”
“Yeah, that ain’t exactly comforting, Omi.”

Kiyoomi snorts and states out of the cab’s window.
For the first time, Atsumu considers that maybe Kiyoomi really is freaking out— he’s just hiding behind a calm facade and industrial strength scent blockers.
Sure, Atsumu isn’t looking forward to when he needs to tell his Ma—

—that he got a teammate pregnant, but at least he knows that after she flips a table she’ll be there for him and her grandchild.

The taxi pulls up outside the restaurant and Atsumu hurries to open the door for Kiyoomi. Because that’s what people do at fancy places, right?

Kiyoomi narrows his eyes at him.
“Stop being so considerate; it’s too out of character for you.”
Atsumu slams the cab door shut harder than he needs too before throwing his hands in the air.
“Fine, ya can pull yer own chair out and take that stick outcha own ass then.”

“That’s better,” Kiyoomi nods. “Although perhaps don’t use such coarse language in front of my mother.”
He walks into the restaurant ahead of Atsumu with the kind of confidence that only comes with ridiculous wealth.
He makes a beeline to the table where an older couple are—

—Already seated.
“Okaa-san, Otou-san,” Kiyoomi greets. “This is my partner, Miya Atsumu.”
“Good mornin’,” Atsumu says, a beat later than is comfortable. He attempts the boyish smile that won him a high school fan club and multiple “most dateable athlete” titles.

The only reaction he gets is Kiyoomi’s father gesturing for them to sit.
It’s only as Atsumu is handed a drinks menu that he realises that it’s the afternoon.
They order and as soon as the waiter leaves earshot, Kiyoomi’s mother is fixing them both with a piercing stare.

“I assume you have something to tell us, you don’t usually request to meet us like this outside of a holiday.”
Atsumu now has confirmation of who Kiyoomi gets his bluntness from.
“Yes,” Kiyoomi says, and while Atsumu might be sweating through his dress shirt, Kiyoomi looks pale—

—enough Atsumu feels compelled to check for a pulse. Although he restrains himself.
“Okaa-san, Otou-san, I’m pregnant.”
There’s a long silence, during which time Atsumu wants to bolt out of the door, all the way to the station and onto the Shinkansen back to Osaka.

"Kiyoomi," his father sighs. "After all the effort and arguments about your career, you're going to throw it all away?"
"My third trimester and due date are in the off season. I'll be able to keep my fitness up even when I'm not able to play, so I won't be out for long."

"You can't know that," his mother cuts in. "Pregnancy and birth can be difficult."
"I'm young and perfectly healthy."
Atsumu finds himself bouncing his gaze between everyone as they speak.
"And I take it this is the father?" Kiyoomi's mother says.
"Yeah." Atsumu accidentally--

--lets more defensiveness into his voice than he means to.
"I don't see a bite mark on either of your necks."
Kiyoomi visibly winces.
"You know how this is going to look," his father starts.
"Whether you let the tarnishing of your reputation get in the way of your relationship--

--with your grandchild is up to you."
"Kiyoomi..." his mother's voice and expression softens into what is the first sign of affection Atsumu has seen so far.
"We're not concerned with our reputation," his father adds.
"We're just worried about you."
"You work a public facing--

--job, sweetheart," his mother points out. "And one with a limited duration. We just don't want this t have any negative impacts on your life and career."
"But if it does, we'll always try to help, if you want us to."
"Oh."
Kiyoomi looks perplexed and Atsumu can't blame him;

Atsumu's own expectations have been subverted here.
There's another long pause and then their server returns with drinks and the first course.
"I suppose we should get to know the father of our grandchild better," Kiyoomi's father says after his first bite.
The relief Atsumu--

--had been feeling at their initial response evaporates.
Fuck.
Now he's got to remember everything they discussed.
Already he can feel Kiyoomi's stare boring into his face.
"What wouldja like ta know?" He offers, attempting another charming smile.