#sakuatsu hurt/comfort | where kiyoomi has never been truly kissed before. he’s had one night stands and sloppy make out sessions, kisses that felt more like arguments than affection.
which is why it’s so strange when atsumu shows up in his life, ham-fisted and clumsy +
in nearly everything he does…and yet, when he kisses kiyoomi for the first time, the final credits of a stupid american movie playing softly in the background while they sprawl against each other on kiyoomi’s couch, atsumu kisses him gently.
it’s tender, and sweet, +
and kiyoomi swears he can taste the fondness atsumu holds for him burning against his tongue like caramelized sugar. it makes his nerves come alight, his heart race in his chest in a way that no sexual conquest has ever done.
which is why, when atsumu pulls back, +
his mind is too stunned stiff to say anything but,
“what the fuck was that?”
atsumu looks at him strangely for a moment, furrowed brows treading the line of offended.
“i-…i kissed ya,” and then he looks sheepish, turning his gaze away from kiyoomi’s +
and going suddenly bashful. “i’m…i’m sorry i know i shoulda asked first-“
“that was not a real kiss.” kiyoomi is unconcerned with atsumu’s worries. if he hadn’t wanted to kiss atsumu, they wouldn’t have kissed. he’s more concerned about the lack of tongue and teeth +
in the supoosed “kiss”. that was a fucking kiss?
atsumu looks thoroughly confused, “uh…yeah the fuck it was.”
“was not.”
“was too-“
“are you just not attracted to me?” kiyoomi’s anxious thoughts are pouring out of him, heating under his skin as atsumu’s +
frown deepens.
“of fuckin’ course i’m attracted ta ya, omi!” atsumu huffs and runs a hand through his hair. “i just kissed ya, of course i’m attracted ta ya!”
“yeah but it wasn’t a real kiss!”
and then atsumu asks him a question he has no answer for:
“why?” +
because.
“because!”
because it wasn’t in the heat of the moment, becuase it wasn’t initiated by a rush of adrenaline tingling under their skin. because it wasn’t a gateway to falling into bed.
because atsumu…he…
“you just…kissed me.” is all kiyoomi comes up with, +
his voice coming out weak and pathetic.
“yeah, cause i wanted ta.”
“exactly.”
because that’s just the thing. atsumu kissed him just because he wanted to kiss him - he kissed kiyoomi for no reason at all other than the desire to feel kiyoomi’s lips pressed +
against his own.
“didja not like it?” atsumu’s voice is tentative then, genuine but delicate on his tongue.
the strangest thing is…kiyoomi did like it. he loved it. he loved it a lot. in fact, it’s only been a minute or two but he’s beginning to crave it. +
“i did.” he has never kissed just for the sake of intimacy before. who does that? “i did like it. i just-…i mean do you want to fuck?”
atsumu startles from his temporary latency only to frown again, “i mean…eventually, yeah. if yer offerin’,” before saying the most +
peculiar thing: “but i didn’t kiss ya ‘cause i wanna fuck, if that’s whatcher askin.”
oh. well then.
“can you do it again?”
it seems atsumu doesn’t need to be asked twice. without a moment’s hesitation, he leans in and kisses kiyoomi soft. +
kiyoomi’s lips part, but it stays tame, subtle, gentle like atsumu’s simply enjoying the feeling of being close - kiyoomi cant say he doesnt. in fact, the tenderness is so blissful that he finds himself wanting nothing more than to allow himself to melt under +
atsumu’s hands, which clasp at the nape of his neck and lace their fingers together.
it’s…wonderful.
and when they pull away, all kiyoomi wants is to dive back into atsumu - to kiss until they’ve shared enough kisses for a lifetime.
atsumu presses his lips +
to kiyoomi’s afterward in a quick peck that does nothing to help the state of kiyoomi’s overloaded heart, and follows it up with a blinding grin.
“how ya gonna tell me that ain’t a real kiss?”
kiyoomi can’t.
“could you kiss me for real. again?” +
atsumu smiles, achingly fond, “so greedy, omi.”
and yet kiyoomi still gets his real kiss (and a countless many more after that).
fin.
bringing this one back bc i want skts to kiss very badly
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where kiyoomi doesn’t know how to respond when atsumu cries - he doesn’t know how to respond when anyone cries. atsumu is no exception to that rule.
no one ever cried in the sakusa family household, mainly because no one was willing to risk +
the emotional beat down that would ensue. so when atsumu cries in front of him for the first time, puffy eyes rimmed with tears, kiyoomi freezes.
he looks small, and vulnerable, and so easy to hurt if kiyoomi isn’t careful.
if kiyoomi were his own father, +
he’d crush atsumu in his palm with clumsy words and condemnations that are a twisted way of saying ‘i love you’. but kiyoomi doesn’t want to be like his father - he’s never wanted to be.
so he does the first thing he thinks of in the heat of his panic: +
atsumu doesn’t sound right when he cries - and truly cries. not when cries at the sappiest scene in a romance movie or cries at his brother’s wedding.
when he cries because kiyoomi made him cry. that’s when the doesn’t +
sound like himself.
that’s when kiyoomi has to turn the volume down on his phone for a moment because atsumu’s tinny sobs filtered through the static of the phone feel like someone’s digging a knife under his ribs.
“i can’t…” he tries when the sobs turn to +
dry sniffles, the words harder to say than he’d thought they would be. “i can’t do this, tsumu.”
can’t do what? he doesn’t know. can’t do mismatched schedules and always feeling a bit too far away. can’t do seeing atsumu post pictures with the jackals, leaving kiyoomi +
he never smiles - he doesn’t smile the first time they kiss, unexpected and sudden and sweet in a way that makes atsumu giggle. he doesn’t smile when he finally asks atsumu out on a date, sparing only a curt +
nod and what looked like the vaguest inclination toward an expression of joy atsumu could imagine. he didn’t even smile when he’d said ‘i love you’ for the first time. he had said it, stoic as ever, blank faced.
that how atsumu had known he meant it. +
but it does make him wonder - and by wonder, he means it makes those dark little things called insecurities gnaw at the edges of his mind when he thinks about it for too long.
because surely, kiyoomi is not immune to smiling. six months into their relationship, +
where kiyoomi cannot stand the way atsumu talks about their relationship.
everything between them is good - great, wonderful, even. beyond anything kiyoomi could’ve imagined when he was alone and wondering if anyone would ever +
love him genuinely, truly. atsumu makes him happy in a way kiyoomi didn’t even know existed before meeting him.
which is why it’s so bizzare when atsumu grins at his old friend kita-san and casually proclaims, “this is my boyfriend, omi- well, least fer now +
till he gets sick of me,” accompanied by a genial laugh that fills the silence kiyoomi and kita-san share. kita smiles, laid back, as if the declaration is nothing out of the ordinary, as if kiyoomi doesn’t feel off balance for the entirety of lunch as atsumu’s +
they love him with an insane devotion that kiyoomi has never seen them love with when it comes to someone outside the family. they love him just as kiyoomi had hoped they would love him. +
and it’s really quite a strange happening, because the sakusa household is not one based on love and tender affection. in fact, kiyoomi can’t remember the last time his father gave him anything more than a handshake.
throughout his whole childhood, kiyoomi had +
postulated that the only avenues through which his family could love were backhanded compliments. so when kiyoomi walks into his sister’s apartment with atsumu on his arm, faced with his three siblings, the last thing he expects is for matching, bright smiles to +
#sakuatsu day one: hanahaki | angst w happy ending
atsumu wouldn’t say he adores his job - it’s not exactly the most heartwarming, counseling people into falling out of love, detailing all the ways they might snuff out the flame of a wonderful thing. he wouldn’t +
even say he likes it. but there is a morbid sense of fulfillment that comes with saving a life, even though the cost is arguably greater than the benefit.
sometimes it just doesn’t feel right, taking from them the one thing that truly matters in this world. +
sometimes he hates himself for it.
but…well, life goes on.
people need love. but it’s been determined by somebody whose position is way above atsumu’s pay grade that people need their lives more.
which is why atsumu sits here, legs crossed, hands folded politely +