Osamu gets the front seat as Kiyoomi and Atsumu debate over who gets to walk down the aisle.
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“So who gets to walk down the aisle again?”
“Oh, I will.” / “Of course it’s me.”
Osamu’s eyebrows raise in intrigue as the engaged couple snap their heads towards each other, mouths agape. Kiyoomi furrows his eyebrows and purses his lips in thought. “It’s me… right?”
“Why is it you?” Atsumu asks, confusion contorting his face.
“Oh, god,” Osamu spits out a laugh, hands rifling through the day’s profits. “You idiots never talked about it. There’s literally one week left until the wedding rehearsal.”
Sakusa & Atsumu, presidents of their own college orgs, will stop at nothing to win best org. Their members, tired of being put through the wringer, set a meeting just for the two of them—but they don’t know that.
And look, it’s justified. Sakusa has made Yachi cry once (unintentionally) by asking her to rush a pubmat to make sure their event is held first.
Atsumu has made Riseki walk out of their meeting when he asked him to rewrite the whole project proposal because it’s not good enough
to go against Sakusa’s projects. Osamu and Komori had to intervene and talk some sense into their relatives, pushing them to apologize to their co-members.
So the members of both orgs make a group chat without their presidents and scheme, and it goes like this.
“You know what? Yoghurt kinda looks like cum,” Komori blurts out one day to Kiyoomi’s disgust.
Thankfully, he doesn’t know anyone who eats yoghurt that much, so the cursed thought never really bothers him.
That is, until Miya Atsumu.
Atsumu snacks on it everyday after training. For all his spontaneity, Atsumu chose to be consistent with this singular thing.
Honestly, Kiyoomi is /this/ close to breaking the vending machine that sells the yoghurt right outside the MSBY complex, just for his sanity.
Because how is Kiyoomi supposed to remove the image etched in his head when Atsumu is right there, his mouth filled with a spoonful of yoghurt and his lips coated in thick, white cream?
Sometimes, it’s not even the yoghurt. It’s Atsumu’s tongue and his goddamned oral fixation.