SakuAtsu fluff week oneshots

cut the tension and let's date

Sakusa Kiyoomi could only be comfortable when everything went exactly like they were supposed to and the way he liked it to. Alarms were supposed to be annoying and wake you up at the exact time you wanted it to. Cooking with a recipe you created should come out the way you wanted it. When you go in for a haircut, it should look exactly how you describe it. And that's why Sakusa always went to a small barber shop on the outskirts of Tokyo called Miya's Cuts.

As he was walking towards it, staring at the wooden exterior, the sign faded with time, and the red and blue striped pole next to the door, he breathed in the familiar setting. He could still remember when his mother first brought him here when it first opened in middle school and he was old enough to know what he wanted. The middle aged man smiled at him and asked what he wanted, and after describing it, he did exactly what Sakusa said. Ever since then, he never went to anyone else to cut his hair. It didn't matter how far away from it he was, he would always come back to it.

Miya, the sole owner and barber, was a kind man that never failed to make Sakusa comfortable. He never needed to worry about filling the time with conversation because the man was already filling it. If he was ever asked a question he didn't know or want to answer, the man never pushed him to answer and instead would move on like nothing happened. He would tell him many stories of himself and his family, and Sakusa enjoyed every minute of it. He silently hoped that no matter how old he got, Miya would never retire.

Unfortunately, wishes don't come true, for Sakusa at least. When he walked in the door, he blinked at the receptionist sitting at a desk next to the door. This is new. "Hello, who are you here for?"

Sakusa frowned, he didn't think anyone else besides the man worked here. "Miya." The barber had told him time and time again to call him by his given name, but he felt it was too disrespectful, and he respected the man a great deal. However, he wished he had said the name because nothing prepared him for who he was sent to.

"He should be out in a second, please go ahead and sit in the first seat." There were only three chairs set in front of three mirrors, and along the walls were old photographs and examples of different haircuts. As he walked over to the first one, someone stepped out from the back with a wide smile and strode over to him. It was a much younger, much more muscular version of Miya. He was just a couple inches shorter than Sakusa with beach blonde hair and a black t-shirt and jeans that clung to his body, and Sakusa was grateful for the apron he wore over it so he could focus his vision on that and not the strong, solid body underneath.

"What the hell is this?" Sakusa snapped as the man held out his hand to him. "Where's Miya-"

"He retired a month ago, and left it to me to take over. I'm his son, Atsumu, it's nice to meet ya." He kept his hand out to Sakusa with a mischievous grin, and he made no move to shake it. So this was his son. He'd heard countless stories of the man's twin sons, and especially about one named Atsumu. He couldn't believe that a child could be so reckless and wild all throughout his life, and Sakusa felt pity for his father who had to always clean up his messes. The man would laugh it off, fondness apparent on his face, but Sakusa decided early on he wouldn't like his son that caused him such grief. And now here he was meeting him for the first time.

"How come this is the first I'm hearing of it?"

Atsumu finally let his arm drop with a shrug. "Dad's just a private person, figured you'd know it would happen eventually." Sakusa could understand that, but still. "Anyways, please take a seat and I'll start. What're ya gettin today?"

Sakusa hesitated as he took a step back. It was already beginning to be too much. Not only is the barber he'd spent over half his life seeing, gone, but his son, whom he'd never heard that many good stories about, was here. He had no idea if Atsumu would be able to cut like his father, and figured he couldn't. In all the times he'd been here, he'd never seen him training with his father, not once. "I'm sorry, but I think I'll have to reschedule. I'm used to having him so-"