🏳️🌈pride month threadfic marathon🏳️🌈
DAY 9: domestic newlywed #sakuatsu // new jerseys and some not-so-hidden colors, timeskip spoilers!!
#hqprideweek colors prompt
DAY 9: domestic newlywed #sakuatsu // new jerseys and some not-so-hidden colors, timeskip spoilers!!
#hqprideweek colors prompt
The curtains in the living room were baby blue.
The morning that someone knocked on the door, they were casting a pinkish glow on the hardwood. From his position on the couch, Kiyoomi could watch the shapes change as the breeze coursed through the opening.
The morning that someone knocked on the door, they were casting a pinkish glow on the hardwood. From his position on the couch, Kiyoomi could watch the shapes change as the breeze coursed through the opening.
"Door!" He called through the rather small space.
He knew that Atsumu was in the kitchen, he could hear the smallest clanging sounds echoing from the adjacent wall.
He knew that Atsumu was in the kitchen, he could hear the smallest clanging sounds echoing from the adjacent wall.
"I got the door last time," Atsumu whined, "you get it."
"What if it's a man prepared to toss anthrax in my face?" Kiyoomi replied flatly, "Is that what you want? For your poor, sweet husband to be attacked with anthrax?"
"What if it's a man prepared to toss anthrax in my face?" Kiyoomi replied flatly, "Is that what you want? For your poor, sweet husband to be attacked with anthrax?"
Kiyoomi heard the click of the lid on the blender. Atsumu must've been making his morning smoothie, which meant all other tasks had taken a backseat.
Atsumu simply wasn't himself without his morning smoothie.
Atsumu simply wasn't himself without his morning smoothie.
The man with the anthrax at the door knocked again.
"It's probably the delivery man," Atsumu replied.
"Are you sure?" Kiyoomi teased, hoisting himself up off the couch.
"It's probably the delivery man," Atsumu replied.
"Are you sure?" Kiyoomi teased, hoisting himself up off the couch.
"Nope," Atsumu said, "but if you do get anthraxed, I'll call the ambulance right after I'm done making my smoothie."
As Kiyoomi passed the kitchen, he popped his head inside. Atsumu was at the edge of the counter shirtless, his muscles tensing as he took ahold of the blender.
As Kiyoomi passed the kitchen, he popped his head inside. Atsumu was at the edge of the counter shirtless, his muscles tensing as he took ahold of the blender.
"What would I ever do without you?" He taunted.
Atsumu flashed him a sickeningly sweet smile, one with the knowledge that no matter how harsh Kiyoomi's words became, he would be crawling into bed that night demanding a kiss.
Atsumu flashed him a sickeningly sweet smile, one with the knowledge that no matter how harsh Kiyoomi's words became, he would be crawling into bed that night demanding a kiss.
Still, Kiyoomi rolled his eyes as he grabbed the handle, hoping to catch the intruder in the act of knocking a third time.
Sure enough, the delivery man was poised at the door to their apartment, his fist lifted to knock again.
Sure enough, the delivery man was poised at the door to their apartment, his fist lifted to knock again.
"Oh!" He exclaimed softly, "Good morning, I have a package for--"
He bowed his head to read the label.
"Miya?"
He bowed his head to read the label.
"Miya?"
Kiyoomi's lips parted, a familiar response already behind his teeth. But then, he remembered.
"That's me," said Kiyoomi.
The delivery man smiled. He pulled a handheld machine from his back pocket.
"That's me," said Kiyoomi.
The delivery man smiled. He pulled a handheld machine from his back pocket.
"Just need you to sign here," he instructed.
Kiyoomi took the stylus and an extra moment to think before he began to scribble out the unfamiliar signature. He supposed he'd have plenty of time to grow used to it.
Kiyoomi took the stylus and an extra moment to think before he began to scribble out the unfamiliar signature. He supposed he'd have plenty of time to grow used to it.
"Usually our packages are just left at the door," Kiyoomi said as he signed.
"This is a special delivery," the postman replied, "it's from the uh--Japanese National Team?"
"This is a special delivery," the postman replied, "it's from the uh--Japanese National Team?"
Kiyoomi's eyes stood at attention. He nearly dropped the tiny stylus.
"Really?" He asked, not exactly searching for an answer and already reaching for the package.
"Yeah," said the postman, exchanging the box for his handheld machine.
"Really?" He asked, not exactly searching for an answer and already reaching for the package.
"Yeah," said the postman, exchanging the box for his handheld machine.
Kiyoomi's heart fluttered when he finally had the box in his hands. Their names were printed cleanly on the white label and there was an emblem in the corner that Kiyoomi knew as well as his own reflection.
"Thank you so much!" He said, smiling.
The delivery man was momentarily taken aback by Kiyoomi's sudden change in disposition. His flat expression had stretched upward in a matter of seconds.
The delivery man was momentarily taken aback by Kiyoomi's sudden change in disposition. His flat expression had stretched upward in a matter of seconds.
"Have a good day," the delivery man said as he began down the hallway.
"You too," Kiyoomi replied half-heartedly, all his attention honing in on the package he'd just received.
"You too," Kiyoomi replied half-heartedly, all his attention honing in on the package he'd just received.
"Atsumu!" He called as he closed the door behind him.
Atsumu's smoothie was pink, a perfect pale pink that spoke of crisp strawberries and ripe bananas. Kiyoomi knew the smell by heart, it would linger on Atsumu's skin until he began to sweat.
Atsumu's smoothie was pink, a perfect pale pink that spoke of crisp strawberries and ripe bananas. Kiyoomi knew the smell by heart, it would linger on Atsumu's skin until he began to sweat.
His lips were a deeper color, wrapped tight around the silver straw. Kiyoomi watched as the hue changed beneath the morning rays.
"Wassup?" Atsumu muttered through a sip of his drink.
"Wassup?" Atsumu muttered through a sip of his drink.
Kiyoomi sat himself on the couch and laid the package on the table before him. He tugged at the papery tape, flinching at the loud sound it made when it tore.
"This is them,' Kiyoomi said to Atsumu who had settled himself beside him.
"This is them,' Kiyoomi said to Atsumu who had settled himself beside him.
"What?" Atsumu asked, leaning in.
Kiyoomi had to peel back a layer of thick cardstock then a few layers of tissue paper to reveal it.
A bright red jersey.
Kiyoomi had to peel back a layer of thick cardstock then a few layers of tissue paper to reveal it.
A bright red jersey.
It was a passionate red, one that stood out on the court like a bushel of roses in the garden. It was a red that spread throughout the room, changing the hues of everything it touched. It was a red that made Kiyoomi's heart race.
"Oh my god," Atsumu hummed as he realized.
Briefly, Kiyoomi's fingers danced in the space above it, almost afraid to disturb its peace. When he did touch it, it was soft and light, familiar beneath his fingertips.
Briefly, Kiyoomi's fingers danced in the space above it, almost afraid to disturb its peace. When he did touch it, it was soft and light, familiar beneath his fingertips.
"Pick it up, pick it up!" Atsumu whispered excitedly in Kiyoomi's ear; he was close enough for him to smell the berries in his breath.
Kiyoomi could help his smile and obey.
Kiyoomi could help his smile and obey.
With the corners pinched in his fingers, Kiyoomi lifted it from the box, gingerly flipping it to the other side.
There it read:
Miya K.
There it read:
Miya K.
Kiyoomi felt the weight of Atsumu's head appear on his shoulder, his soft blonde hairs tickling his cheek and his hand resting gently on Kiyoomi's bicep.
"I like the look of that name," he hummed, "--Miya-a"
"I like the look of that name," he hummed, "--Miya-a"
Kiyoomi's cheeks flared up in a rush of pink. He wouldn't admit it so readily, but he liked the sound of it too.
Miya--
Miya K.
Miya--
Miya K.
Kiyoomi's ring was golden.
It glittered in the sunlight. It was a thin, smooth band with enough give to let Kiyoomi spin it around his finger when he needed something to occupy him.
It glittered in the sunlight. It was a thin, smooth band with enough give to let Kiyoomi spin it around his finger when he needed something to occupy him.
Atsumu's ring was also golden.
He wore a half-size larger than Kiyoomi. He'd shot Kiyoomi a glance of victory at the jewelry shop which would've ignited a competition if the jeweler hadn't asked them how long they'd been friends right after.
He wore a half-size larger than Kiyoomi. He'd shot Kiyoomi a glance of victory at the jewelry shop which would've ignited a competition if the jeweler hadn't asked them how long they'd been friends right after.
"Friends?" Kiyoomi asked lowly.
"A /super/ long time," Atsumu taunted, "like forever."
Kiyoomi didn't understand how enjoyable their ruse was until they bought the rings, walked outside, and proceeded to engage in a PDA marathon right in front of her face.
"A /super/ long time," Atsumu taunted, "like forever."
Kiyoomi didn't understand how enjoyable their ruse was until they bought the rings, walked outside, and proceeded to engage in a PDA marathon right in front of her face.
"Oh my god," Atsumu huffed against his lips, "we're such good friends."
Their rings were golden.
So was the morning.
Their rings were golden.
So was the morning.
"Show mine now," Atsumu requested softly, tugging on Kiyoomi's arm.
Setting the first jersey to the side, Kiyoomi reached for the one underneath it.
It read:
Miya A.
Setting the first jersey to the side, Kiyoomi reached for the one underneath it.
It read:
Miya A.
"Ooh," he hummed, "now people /can't/ get confused, right?"
That had been part of the conversation, the one where they decided what to do about the whole name thing.
That had been part of the conversation, the one where they decided what to do about the whole name thing.
The proposal was done, the venue was set, the guests were all invited, and the wedding itself was only a few weeks away. On a stroll along the river, Atsumu had blurted out his sudden realization.
"Names!" He'd screamed.
"God, Atsumu," Kiyoomi recoiled.
"Are you keeping your name?"
"God, Atsumu," Kiyoomi recoiled.
"Are you keeping your name?"
Kiyoomi stumbled over words that hadn't yet been formed. Atsumu was holding him by the shoulders, pleading with his eyes.
"I--I don't know."
"I--I don't know."
"You could take mine," he said frantically.
Miya Kiyoomi.
"Or I could take yours?" Atsumu added in a secondary panic.
Miya Kiyoomi.
"Or I could take yours?" Atsumu added in a secondary panic.
"I want yours!" Kiyoomi interrupted him.
"You do?"
"Yeah," said Kiyoomi, "I think so--no, I know so."
"My name?"
"You do?"
"Yeah," said Kiyoomi, "I think so--no, I know so."
"My name?"
"Yes."
"Miya Kiyoomi," Atsumu hummed.
Kiyoomi's insides were white like the center of an explosion. His thoughts were colorless like the implosion of a star.
"Miya Kiyoomi," Atsumu hummed.
Kiyoomi's insides were white like the center of an explosion. His thoughts were colorless like the implosion of a star.
"Call me that again," he whispered.
Atsumu pulled him closer.
"Miya," he hummed with a half-smile.
"Again."
Atsumu pulled him closer.
"Miya," he hummed with a half-smile.
"Again."
"Miya-a."
Kiyoomi's insides that night were white like his name and number on the back of the jersey.
Kiyoomi's insides that night were white like his name and number on the back of the jersey.
"Wait, lemme check for something," Atsumu said, reaching for the jersey.
Kiyoomi let him take it. He wanted to look at his own again, anyhow. He wanted to see his name again.
Kiyoomi let him take it. He wanted to look at his own again, anyhow. He wanted to see his name again.
Miya K.
"Yes!" Atsumu exclaimed softly to himself, "Look, look."
Atsumu motioned towards the hem of the right sleeve on Kiyoomi's jersey. It was small, but there was something there. Kiyoomi peered closer at it.
"Yes!" Atsumu exclaimed softly to himself, "Look, look."
Atsumu motioned towards the hem of the right sleeve on Kiyoomi's jersey. It was small, but there was something there. Kiyoomi peered closer at it.
Sewn on the black banded hem of the sleeve was a small rainbow tag.
"How'd you--?" Kiyoomi asked in amazement.
"Special request," Atsumu replied, "sat on hold with the company for like an /hour/."
"How'd you--?" Kiyoomi asked in amazement.
"Special request," Atsumu replied, "sat on hold with the company for like an /hour/."
With a practiced ease, Kiyoomi grabbed the side of Atsumu's jaw and pulled him into a kiss. It was golden like their rings and pink like Atsumu's smoothie and red like their blushing cheeks and red like their brand-new jerseys and blue like the curtains in the living room.
"Love you," said Kiyoomi.
"I love you, too," Atsumu replied.
And it was every color.
🌈🌈🌈
"I love you, too," Atsumu replied.
And it was every color.
🌈🌈🌈
//end
here's the top of the thread, thank you for reading :33
here's the top of the thread, thank you for reading :33
https://twitter.com/starbeyy/status/1535022580247285775?s=20&t=NqfpX7HbqQusVFdZkXX-0A
you can find the rest of my threadfics here !!
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twitter.com/i/events/15324…
buckle in for tomorrow's prompt🤠
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