Thread by @liliapocalypse

#SakuAtsu Kiyoomi, in all his athleticism, has two left feet; a 6’3 uncoordinated lump of bones.

Atsumu makes up for the few centimeters in grace and rhythm, his body in time with the music.

So when Sakusa freezes at the news of a V. League ball, Atsumu offers to teach him.

He’ll say it’s out of concern. It’d be fun to see Sakusa stagger around the gala, stripped off his smugness for once, but it would feel more like laughing /at/ him, and Atsumu didn’t like that.

He’d rather see Sakusa, 6 foot of bones and muscle, trip over himself in private, +

where Sakusa can flip him off and make fun of Atsumu’s faux expertise so it would be more like laughing /with/ him.

That’s not what he says when Sakusa asks why he even offered.

Instead, he says, “I’m the best teacher ya got right now, so take it or leave it, Omi-kun!”

He doesn’t say that he wants to give Sakusa a chance get used to the idea of touching someone, so the first thing he does is to just let Sakusa rest a hand on his hip, the other intertwined with Atsumu’s. He makes jokes and throws jabs to take his mind off of it and it works.

He doesn’t say that he doesn’t like it when people make fun of Sakusa, so he teaches Sakusa what little steps he knows. Sakusa trips and steps on his toes and headbutts him and it makes Atsumu laugh. But so does Sakusa, once the scowl shifts to a grin.

He doesn’t say that he likes seeing Sakusa so focused on something that he’ll always see it through. Sakusa keeps fumbling on the four-step and says, “Teach me that again.” “Let’s do that again, Miya.”

Atsumu holds his hands through it. He always does.

He doesn’t say that he likes hearing Sakusa hum the melody, so soft it sounds like a lullaby. He doesn’t say that he likes the way Sakusa holds him, calloused hands on his hip, interlocked with his. He doesn’t say that he likes being held. Not just anyone but by /Sakusa/.

Then the day of the ball comes and Sakusa is just sitting on the corner, which is when he remembers: Oh. Right. He can give and reciprocity is never guaranteed.

He sets to Osamu all his life and he chooses his business. He sets to Aran and Suna and they move on to new setters.

He gives Tobio-kun an advice and he becomes Japan’s best setter and server.

He teaches Sakusa how to dance and he dances with someone else.

He’s not mad—not at Samu, Tobio, or Sakusa. He didn’t teach Sakusa to dance so the latter will dance with him. He doesn’t hold it against him.

It just hurts a little bit. But that’s okay.

When he chose to love Sakusa, Sakusa never owed it to him to love him back.

So he dances and drinks around until someone tugs on his jacket. “Hey.”

He turns around and sees Sakusa, ridiculously attractive in his navy blue suit.

“Dance with me, Miya.”

“Aren’t ya dancin’ with… someone?” Insecurity laces his words, stinging his insides.

Sakusa frowns and tugs him by the wrist, the way he always does when he wants to try a step again.

“Yes, the sponsor. The reason this ball is happening and why I’m forced to dance because+

‘gratitude’, or something.” Sakusa moves fluidly, arranging their limbs the way Atsumu always does. A lesson in action.

His thoughts break as Sakusa intertwines their fingers like a spell. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Oh, god, he’s really stupid, isn’t he?

“I just… thought ya didn’t want to dance with me.” When he looks up, Sakusa looks like he’s stifling a laugh.

“Ya don’t have to dance with me just because I thought ya, you know.” Sakusa seems to register the doubt in Atsumu’s face, and the laugh melts to a smile.

Sakusa pulls him close by the waist and starts moving. He fumbles over that step /again/. “I know. I want to, though.”

He keeps moving anyway with every learned step. Sakusa is still 6’3 of uncoordinated limbs, but that’s okay.

He’s here anyway.

God, he loves him anyway.

“I still have to ask my teacher if I did good.” Atsumu chuckles, the weight in his shoulders lifting with the curl of Sakusa’s lips.

“Meh. A for effort, though.”

“Atsumu,” Sakusa whispers and rests his head on the crook of Atsumu’s neck. “You’re stupid if you think I want to dance with anyone else but you.”

The movement pushes them closer, limits their steps to only soft sways, feet and heartbeats rooted in place.

Maybe Sakusa can teach him something, too.

Yes, Sakusa doesn’t owe it to him to love him back. But maybe Sakusa chose to.

“Ya better, Omi-kun.” His body—his heart—shudders as Sakusa laughs.

Maybe. So many maybes.

They can teach each other to figure it out, one step at a time.

//end

I didn’t expect it to be this long wth