unknown - sakuatsu

perfect

"Fine, I'll watch Sleepless in Seattle with you. If you agree not to even do much as touch my hair the entire movie." Atsumu looks at him like he's never heard a worse attempt at bargaining.

"No deal," he huffs adamantly. "Ya serious?! Ya think I'd give up braiding yer curls ta watch Tom Hanks over Ryan Reynolds? Nice try."

"Tom Hanks is objectively the better actor."

"Do I look like a man who gives a shit about quality? Plus, Ryan Reynolds is a perfectly fine actor," Atsumu is already adjusting himself to sit behind Kiyoomi, legs pretzeling around the spiker's waist and chin resting on his shoulder. "Not ta mention he's way hotter."

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, resisting the urge to lean back against Atsumu's broad chest, give into the warmth and let all their weird habits be misconstrued just for a night.

He doesn't do that.

"Of course you'd say that, you shallow dick," his laugh his barely contained, bubbling to the tip of his tongue with his words. He can feel Atsumu's pout even despite not being able to see him. The setter makes a huffing sound and squeezes his shoulders as if in retaliation - an awkwardly angled almost-hug. "I don't know, this feels pretty gay."

"Gay? Me? Whatever gave ya that idea?" Atsumu snarks, falling back. Kiyoomi almost makes the most unwise decision of chasing his embrace. Atsumu makes a grabby motion with his hands. "Now gimme da clippies."

He makes a grabby motion toward the multicolored hair clips - childish at best - that lay sprawled across Kiyoomi's coffee table.

Atsumu bought them specifically for Kiyoomi's hair because his attempts at messing with the tightly wound curls were, to say the least, turning out less than successful. Of course, because he's an asshole, he had to get them in the brightest, most obnoxious, most immature varieties he could manage, but true to his word, he keeps them clean and sanitized. So Kiyoomi figures he can live with the humiliation in the privacy of his own home.

Plus, Atsumu's hands feel really nice in his hair.

"If you make my hair a tangled mess again, I'm going to sue you for emotional distress."

"Emotional distress?"

"Do you know how long it took me to take out your last braids?" It took him three hours and that was in the shower. He wasted half a bottle of conditioner for Atsumu Miya's weird definition of best friendship. That shit is expensive.

"One perka datin' Sho, Natsu's a really good teacher," Kiyoomi tries not to show how he bristles at the idea of Atsumu having dated Hinata, even if it was only for a couple of months. His tongue becomes the recipient of malice, teeth digging in painfully.

"It's still weird how easily you guys transitioned back to being just teammates," I wouldn't be able to. At least not with you.

"Eh...I guess we never really transitioned out of it in the first place. Y'know, like when yer with someone but it's obvious yer their second choice," oh yeah, Kiyoomi knows what that feels like. Story of his fucking life, actually. How are people expected to choose him above all else when he can't even open his damn doors. "Guess it doesn't hurt quite as much if ya know ya never had a chance."

Kiyoomi bites his tongue - he should not be feeling happy about that. No, he shouldn't. And he shouldn't be happy that they didn't last because he's Atsumu's best friend - don't tell him he said that - and he should be angry about it because Atsumu was angry about it. For a really fucking long time. But he's not.

Look, he never claimed to be a good best friend.

"Yer awfully quiet, Omi. Ya good?"

"Yeah, fine," he lies.