Touch Me [sakuatsu]

Day 20

Saturday afternoon, their team had a match at home. They had been practicing hard all week and were optimistic about the outcome of the match. Their team played exceptionally well. Their opponent never seemed to adjust to their offensive weapons -- the spin on Sakusa's spikes and Atsumu's and Hinata's quick attack. They ended up winning in straight sets, so the players were celebrating in the locker room after the game.

Again, Hinata was bouncing around the small room, climbing on benches, jumping up and down and high-fiving everyone. Again, just like that one day a few weeks ago, he skipped over Sakusa and went to the next player for fist bumps and high tens. And again, someone mentioned that you can't high five Sakusa.

Atsumu knew it was coming, but it still made him angry. Seething in fact. "Stop it," he said in an authoritative voice.

"What?" asked Hinata.

"Not you. Kondo," Atsumu pointed to their first year teammate who had made the comment.

"What?" asked Kondo, innocently.

"Stop saying that stuff about Sakusa," said Atsumu with some force. "I'm sick of hearin' it. It's not funny."

Kondo was defensive. He puffed up his chest. "What are you? His protector?"

Atsumu was pissed off now. "No, I'm his boyfriend."

A dozen pairs of eyes snapped to look at Atsumu, who was clenching his fist, trying to contain his anger. No one spoke. You could have heard a pin drop.

Sakusa quietly stood and walked over to Atsumu. He grabbed his forearm gently and said softly, "'Tsumu, it's okay."

"No, it's not okay!" Atsumu was practically yelling now. "Ya think it's a joke that he doesn't want to touch anyone? Well he touches me plenty. Maybe ya are all just scrubs and that's why he doesn't want to touch ya."

To prove his point, he turned to Omi, grabbed him by the chin and laid a big, wet kiss on his lips. He turned back to the others. "I don't ever want to hear anyone sayin' anythin' like that ever again!"

He began roughly shoving things into his bag. "Let's go, Omi." Kiyoomi looked like he wanted to say something but must have thought better of it. He went to grab the rest of his things, closed up his locker and with one last look over his shoulder at his stunned teammates, followed Atsumu out. When they had left, someone said, "So that's why they're always the last ones in the locker room."

***************

Kiyoomi had never seen Atsumu so angry. He wanted to say something soothing but honestly didn't know what to say. He sensed that Atsumu didn't want to talk anyway, so they walked in silence back to Omi's dorm. Atsumu had grabbed his hand and held it like a vice as if to tell the world, 'Fuck yeah, we're together. You got a problem with that?'

When they arrived back at Omi's room, Atsumu dropped his bag, kicked off his shoes and immediately started pacing. "I can't believe those assholes. Why do they think that's funny? I don't get it. I swear, if they say anythin' again I'm going to punch someone."

Now that they were alone, Omi came up behind his boyfriend, snaked his hands around his waist and put his chin on his shoulder. "It's fine, 'Tsumu. I don't care. Not anymore. Thank you for sticking up for me, though."

Some of the tension seemed to slip from the setter. "But I care."

"I know. And I love you for it." Shit, there it was. Out in the open.

Atsumu stiffened slightly but then pulled at Kiyoomi's hands to loosen his grip then turned to face his boyfriend. Omi looked embarrassed but Atsumu looked touched. "Shit, Omi-omi. I love you too." He placed a soft, gentle kiss on the spiker's lips. Then pulled away slightly to smile.