Still in a half-daze from his afternoon nap, Atsumu prompted up the bed and turned to his lover who was peacefully snoring between ivory sheets - quite a stark contrast from the hawkish predator that devoured him on the same bed last night and early morning, he thought to himself. He bit his lower lip and felt his stomach churn as he adored his sleeping boyfriend, bashfully recalling their recent ventures as if they had done so the first time and not a thousand times before. Then, leaning in ever so gently, he smooched the tip of his nose and combed the disheveled curls off his face, giggling at how the raven scrunched his nose and shifted slightly, still in sweet dreams.
Snapping out of his trance, Atsumu got up and sauntered over to the bathroom to wash up and only then did his senses clear, making him cognizant of the love marks all over his body - between his thighs; around his wrists; along his neck; god, even behind his ears. "Shit," he cursed under his breath, biting his thumb. It was the peak of summer and he knew he'd garner a wad of double takes if he wore a turtleneck at 2 P.M.
But, oh well, he wouldn't be Miya fucking Atsumu if he didn't overdress going to the grocery store.
He picked up his keys, wallet and phone, and left a note on the scribble board saying, 'out for a quick grocery run - brb,' in thick, bodacious letters before dashing out of the flat.
About half an hour later, the note had been rendered meaningless as he arrived home and the said boyfriend was still in deep slumber. "Heh," Atsumu chuckled to himself. He changed back to his favorite pair of boxers and a low-cut top tank exposing the breadth of his shoulders and the side of his chest. With a final touch of an invisible pastry hat, thus began the channeling of his inner Ina Garten. "Yosh, let's do this," he cracked his knuckles and sorted through bags of dairy and gluten, sporadically glancing over the cheat sheet on his laptop - one that he almost had to sell his soul for, bartered with his stingy but master chef of a twin brother.
He was so engrossed in the measurement of his dry ingredients that he didn't notice his dozing boyfriend approaching him in heavy strides, swiftly slotting himself on the crook of his nape - toned arms wrapped around slender waist. "Oh, hey, Omi-Omi," Atsumu ran his fingers through the taller man's hair, plopped comfortably on his back. "Ye'r finally awake."
"Hmm," Kiyoomi drawled incoherently, too busy whiffing his lover's scent.
"Or not," the blonde chuckled, releasing his hold to get back to prepping.
"What're you making?" Kiyoomi asked with a handsome yawn, the lilt in his voice laced with grogginess as he leisurely shifted to consciousness.
"Strawberry shortcake," Atsumu beamed with excitement. "With matcha and cream cheese frosting! Remember I told you-"
"Ah, for Oikawa's," the raven filled in, relenting to another yawn.
"Mhm," Atsumu hummed. "Wow, ya do listen to my blabbing." He grinned teasingly though covert from Kiyoomi's view. His boyfriend groaned and nuzzled him in an embrace, dramatically piqued by the jest. But Atsumu loved this side of him - petty and whiny and only for him to see. "Okay, okay. Sorry," he giggled, tapping on Kiyoomi's flexed triceps. "I know ya always listen, baby."
The moniker seemed to have eased the raven given how his grip relented around the blonde. But perhaps he had been too keen because just a moment later, Atsumu found himself earnestly groped so he immediately grabbed Kiyoomi's wrist and halted his scheme. Well, he and his not-so-little junior were definitely awake now. "Omi, why don't ya wait on the couch while I finish up here, yeah?"
Kiyoomi groaned and nipped on Atsumu's earlobe, making the latter yelp in surprise.
"Kiyoomi!"
Oh, no.
