Chapter Text
It’s common knowledge among those in the dating scene that following one’s first meeting with another they must first suffer through the ‘Talking Stage.’
As uninteresting as the ‘Talking Stage' tends to get after too many failed first dates, too many false starts, it's the very foundation of a relationship and it is essential when building a strong romantic partnership from the ground up.
Oftentimes this tedious ordeal is accompanied by ice breaker questions such as: What is their favorite color? What are their hobbies? Where did they go to school? What do they do for fun?
Generic questions which help one map out the outline of the other person and, with more time, fill in the gaps with the more abstract and complicated, that which makes that person them.
It’s in between these two extremes, the getting-to-know and the-know, that physical intimacy is introduced. Sometimes it’s a kiss on the cheek three dates in, other times it’s a messy quickie in the club’s bathroom. Contrary to what people like to say there is no right or wrong amount of time, it all depends on the person and what they are comfortable with.
Nevertheless, it’s always the same routine: the talking stage, the intimacy stage and commitment. That’s how it’s supposed to go.
But what happens when you do this out of order? What happens when you’ve skipped the talking stage all together and jumped straight into intimacy? What happens when you’ve entangled yourself into a friends with benefits agreement with your teammate? What happens when, the more you fall into bed together, the more your fondness swells, grows, expands, the harder it gets to hide your obvious and embarrassing affection? What if after six months of emotional turmoil you finally come clean about your romantic feelings? What if your heart is beating its way through your chest but you’re used to it so it doesn’t phase you? And what’s this? What happens when the sentiment is returned?
Happy ending is what you might be thinking, but think again.
What does it mean when all you know about that other person is how to make them a moaning, whimpering mess? What does it mean when you’re not yet acquainted with the fire under their skin, the soul, the spirit? What does it mean to know the shell and not the contents inside?
I'll tell you what it means, it means a sudden allergic reaction to peanuts and the jarring realization that you know nothing about each other.
They were in the middle of their third official date, since frantic sex in Kiyoomi’s apartment does not count as a date. (If it did, this would probably be their umpteenth date.) It had only been a few weeks since they decided to give monogamy a chance. How hard could it be anyway? They had known each other for about seven months and been sleeping together for six.
Regardless, this relationship stuff was still a fragile thing, so Kiyoomi took care to make everything perfect, making dinner and all that.
The first two dates had been a bit underwhelming and awkward.
Thinking back on it was just as painful as living through it. They were sitting at a nice restaurant and the gentle lighting coming from the frail looking little lamps in the middle of the table made it hard to see one centimeter from their noses, much less their food.
The wine hit the spot though.
The idle chatter from the couples made for nice background noise. Each and every single one of them lost in their love induced stupor.
All, except Kiyoomi and Atsumu.
It was fucking awkward.
"So," Atsumu said. "Bokkun told this really funny thing-"
"I was there," Kiyoomi interrupted.
"Ah," Atsumu cringed. "Right."
Kiyoomi stayed quiet for a bit, bemoaning his slip up. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. "Sorry," Kiyoomi muttered.
Atsumu looked away. "No, it's ok," he said. "I should have thought of that."
They stayed quiet once again.
Kiyoomi cleared his throat. "How was your day?"
Atsumu raised an eyebrow. "You were there for most of it," he said matter-of-factly.
Kiyoomi winced inwardly. "I know."
"Yeah," Atsumu said quietly.
A waiter walked up to their table, a polite smile steady on his lips, tight posture and a clean cut appearance. "Any drinks?" he asked.
Atsumu jumped, "Yes."
"Please," Kiyoomi urged.
That's how bad they were doing.
This was a new development— the dating thing. It didn't use to be this way. Before, back when they were nothing more than a casual fling, they used to talk for hours. Kiyoomi doesn't know what the hell they would talk about and truthfully he would give anything to know now. Maybe knowing would help their sad situation.
God, he would give anything to go back to those times.
Now the figurative guillotine of monogamy was waiting, perilously at the edge of dropping on them both, waiting to wreak havoc on their lives if there ever comes a time when they must separate. The tension was exhausting. Kiyoomi was really hoping this third date would be different.
Settling for a nice dinner in his apartment, a familiar place where they had spent countless hours in each other's company, Kiyoomi thought this would be a pretty normal third date. Maybe third time’s the charm, right?
He prepared an easy enough dish: pesto with basil, garlic, olive oil and peanuts—the secret ingredient. Imagine his surprise when immediately after the first bite Atsumu’s breathing got too shallow and his face turned a concerning shade of red. A quick EpiPen to his thigh and a nerve-wracking trip to the hospital later and they both returned to Kiyoomi’s apartment a few hours later.
"Omiiii," Atsumu slurred. "Carry mee!"
Kiyoomi, already half carrying a dead on his feet Atsumu, was too busy trying to get enough oxygen in his lungs to function and unlock the door to his apartment. He had already carried the bastard up three flights of stairs and now he was expected to carry him inside? Kiyoomi’s legs felt like jelly, he was not made for these conditions damnit.
"You're already clinging to me like a fucking koala," he said.
Even without looking Kiyoomi knew Atsumu was pouting again, he could hear it in his voice. "I thought you liked koalas."
"I do like koalas," he mumbled, finally getting the damn thing unlocked. Atsumu's arms tightly wound around his neck. "I just don't like you," Kiyoomi said in the end. Atsumu huffed and tightened his hold on Kiyoomi’s neck.
"Fuck," he coughed. "Not so tight, Atsumu."
Atsumu slackened his hold but still didn't let go. Kiyoomi trudged inside and walked down the hallway towards his bedroom, Atsumu stumbling to keep up.
Truthfully, Kiyoomi was almost relieved about the peanut fiasco happening, as it ended up occupying the tense silence that always seemed to plague them whenever they attempted anything couple-y.
The keyword here is “almost.”
It’s safe to say Kiyoomi’s heart rate went haywire in the most dramatic way and he was not willing to repeat that ever again.
Atsumu seemed more in control of the situation than Kiyoomi.
Embarrassing.
When they got to his bedroom Atsumu was too exhausted, physically and mentally, and couldn’t be bothered to change from his dress shirt and pants. Kiyoomi took care of it, unbuttoning with ease.
“Buy me dinner first,” Atsumu muttered.
Kiyoomi fought back a smile. “Not my fault you’re weak to nuts,”
“Only yours,” Atsumu replied easily.
After months of practice, undressing Atsumu came easier than breathing. Lending him some sweats and a loose sleeping shirt, Kiyoomi coaxed Atsumu to join him in the bed, laying down first, Atsumu sprawled on top.
"Does this mean I won't get a goodnight blowjob?" Atsumu mumbled. He had his arms folded, his chin resting on top. Rising and falling as Kiyoomi breathed in and out.
"Atsumu." Kiyoomi warned, eyes heavy lidded, running his fingers gently through blonde hair, massaging the scalp.
“How about some 'I didn’t die from you poisoning me’ sex?"
"Atsumu." Kiyoomi closed his eyes.
"You should see your face right now, it's adorable. You look like a kicked puppy," he snickered.
Kiyoomi could only imagine how he looked. He almost cost Atsumu an early grave. "I'm sorry I poisoned you,” he said quietly.
Atsumu merely laughed, the fucking prick. "If you really think I'm mad then you might be dumber than I initially thought and that's saying something because-”
"Careful with what you say I still have peanuts stashed in my kitchen."
"Is that a threat?" he sounded amused.
"It's a promise."
Atsumu laughed again, "First you poison me and now this. I'm gonna tell Samu I'm in an abusive relationship."
Kiyoomi winced, "Please don't, your brother fucking scares me."
Even if he couldn’t see it, Kiyoomi knew Atsumu was rolling his eyes, "God, you really know nothing about me, do ya Omi-kun? Samu wouldn't give two shits if you were abusive or not."
Kiyoomi thought back to the killing intent radiating off in waves at Onigiri Miya every time he visited, "I think you're the one that doesn't know anything but you have a point, we know nothing about each other."
Atsumu turned his face to the side and used his arms as a makeshift pillow, Kiyoomi’s hand slid down blonde hair and started massaging his neck.
“Should we play twenty questions or something?" Atsumu asked.
Kiyoomi cringed, “Are we in middle school?"
"Thank God we're not," Atsumu repositioned himself a bit. "You would have hated me in middle school."
Kiyoomi would not, he had a huge crush on Atsumu even in his asshole years.
He opened his eyes and sat up a bit, carefully bringing an arm around Atsumu’s back to not to jostle him too much. Kiyoomi went back to massaging the tender spot on Atsumu’s neck. "What makes you think I like you now?"
"I'm literally on top of you while you massage my neck. You can't fool me Omi-Omi." Kiyoomi pulled a bit on blonde hair which earned him a quiet laugh.
"If I return you to Osamu all broken I won't get my deposit back," Kiyoomi said.
"Real funny," Atsumu pushed on Kiyoomi's chest to sit up, with a little more maneuvering he managed to find a place in between Kiyoomi’s legs. "Come on, humor me," Atsumu leaned back to look at Kiyoomi, bringing his right hand up to rub the wrist where Kiyoomi was still massaging his scalp. "Let's play twenty questions. What's your favorite color."
"Now we really are in middle school." Kiyoomi relented at Atsumu's playful glare. "Blue," he said.
"Basic," Atsumu coughed into his elbow.
Kiyoomi raised a skeptical eyebrow. "What's yours then?"
"Mine’s orange," Atsumu said proudly.
"Quirky," Kiyoomi coughed into his elbow.
Atsumu squeezed Kiyoomi’s wrist in warning even though he was still smiling.
For the next hour they went back and forth asking questions. Just the basic stuff, but as more of those questions were exchanged Kiyoomi began to notice something.
He and Atsumu shared nothing in common.
Alarm bells were ringing in his head at this sudden realization. Logically it shouldn’t come as a big surprise. In the six months since they started sleeping together neither Kiyoomi nor Atsumu had bothered to talk a whole lot. They were too busy doing other… activities .
As a very essential sidenote, it’s very important to note the following things: Kiyoomi's life has always revolved around his hobbies. Hobbies like video games, comics, anime and manga have a special place in his heart for a lot of reasons, the most important of which being that these hobbies were the tools that bridged that insurmountable gap between his siblings and himself.
With ten plus years of difference between his older brother and sister, Kiyoomi, for a long time, had nothing in common with either of them.
When he no longer cooed at bright colors and funny sounds, when he had enough cognizance to form his own opinions, his siblings and him shared next to nothing. It didn’t help that by the time he could walk they were both already out of the house.
To say Kiyoomi and his siblings were basically strangers for the first few years of his life would not be far from the truth.
This all changed one random day in 2005. It was one of those rare times when his brother came to visit, just for the weekend though. His brother, who was in university at the time, had brought with him a gaming console: The Nintendo 64. The damn thing was nine years old by that time, just like Kiyoomi.
This little console, plus the many games that came with it, opened up a whole new world for Kiyoomi.
As a dedicated person that does things until the end, he was fascinated by the stories and adventures, boss battles and secrets. By the 3D qualities found in Mario 64 and Ocarina of Time.
It blew his freaking mind.
Kiyoomi remembers that day with fondness. He remembers his brother’s patient attempts at teaching him how to fight, move and jump. How he laughed at Kiyoomi’s determined face every time fodder kicked his ass.
Suddenly, as if by magic, the twelve year gap was not that big anymore. Suddenly his brother came to visit more and more, with more games in tow. Mario Kart and Paper Mario, Kirby 64 and Banjo-Kazooie. Mario golf, tennis and party. (One time his brother even let him play Conker's Bad Fur Day, a game rated M for people seventeen plus. His mother found out and yelled at his brother to hell and back. Afterwards they both laughed and continued to play in secret, away from her parental glare.)
It didn’t end with Nintendo games.
The more Kiyoomi improved at gaming the more games his brother introduced him to. The PlayStation, a console two years his senior, came with a whole other variety of games. Grand Theft Auto, Crash Team Racing, Resident Evil, Yu-Gi-Oh GX and even the fucking Sims.
As years passed and other consoles were released, Kiyoomi’s brother was there for it all. They played The Simpsons: Hit & Run and Final Fantasy X, they even played Kingdom Hearts.
They completed Little Big Planet when the third iteration of the PlayStation came out and roped their sister into joining as well. They laughed at her sad attempts to play and did their best to save her from certain death.
Video games gave him an older brother and it would forever be special to Kiyoomi in a way he could never be able to put into words.
This spurred on his older sister, a woman nearing thirties at the time, a fourteen year gap separating them. When she saw her brother starting to build a relationship with Kiyoomi she decided to join in as well.
She wasn’t fond of video games, didn’t have the patience for them, she much preferred to read. Maybe not in the way one would expect a lawyer to read but reading nonetheless. Wherein someone might assume her to be the target audience for Jane Austen books or War and Peace, Kiyoomi’s sister liked reading comics and manga.
She was the one who introduced him to the DC universe and its soap-opera-esque plots. She introduced him to shojo manga and shonen as well as psychological thrillers that would have made Kiyoomi’s mother have an aneurysm if she ever found out. (Which she will never do.)
Every time she came to visit, which began to increase in quantity the more Kiyoomi became invested in her comic books and manga, she would often leave behind something for him to read.
Sports manga came first since that was the only hobby she knew Kiyoomi liked. Then came the classics: The Killing Joke and Full Metal Alchemist, which was ongoing at the time. (As an adult with her own money and as much impulse control as Kiyoomi, which is to say none at all, she often wouldn’t stop until she had every volume of a series.)
They really hit it off when the New 52 came out, a reboot that spanned from 2011 to 2016. The Batman comics from this era were top tier, Scott Snyder, the writer of some of Kiyoomi’s favorite comics, did the characters and their story arcs justice in every way that counted.
Damian Wayne, Batman’s son, was his favorite. Kiyoomi has a thing for chaotic bastard characters. Even so, he liked manga much better than comics.
In between all this Kiyoomi started to develop his own tastes. Binging different anime series for hours on end during his middle school days, buying his own manga and getting into video games series his brother didn’t introduce him to. His greatest feat was catching up with One Piece.
As a dumbass with no self-restraint, Kiyoomi reached the Impel down arc in a month. Four hundred and forty-four episodes in about a month.
Funnily enough Kiyoomi had no idea One piece was still ongoing so imagine his surprise when Luffy sneaked into the damn prison and there were no more episodes after. The astonishment he felt at realizing he would have to wait one week for a single episode is now, in retrospect, hilarious.
His sister explained to him the wonders of ongoing manga series he could find online. Kiyoomi was fucking floored. Ever since that day in 2010 Kiyoomi had been following the manga faithfully every week, sans the breaks every three chapters or so. He did things until the end and like hell was he going to die before One Piece ended.
After One Piece it was like a dam broke. All the energy he had put into catching up with the anime and then the manga went into other series. Naruto wasn't exactly his style but he still read the whole series, then came Bleach, which he enjoyed right up until the end, where he bitched online at the final arc.
He played games on his own too. Professor Layton was his favorite, a game about riddles and puzzles. He watched the classics with his sister and rushed through random series on his own, each with varying degrees of quality. (Black Butler still gives him nightmares.) He read Tokyo Ghoul, he read Magi and Sinbad, he watched Attack on Titan, Death Parade and 91 days.
Kiyoomi saw the birth and death of countless illegal anime streaming sites, he saw so many manga web pages perish under plagiarism. He played Final Fantasy 7 and went to see the premier of the Killing Joke in theaters with his sister. (The Batgirl and Batman sex scene almost made him loose his lunch.)
People these days don't seem to remember but once upon a time, not even ten years ago, liking these things was taboo. Something only losers and homebodies liked to partake in. Needless to say, Kiyoomi was surprised when, as time passed, people became more and more interested in these mediums.
Kiyoomi saw the burst in popularity from all around the world, leaving behind that prejudice people tended to have with cartoons and graphic novels.
Keeping this in mind, the sudden love for all Japanese media in foreign countries was the reason Kiyoomi had begun to think everyone had at least a few of these hobbies as well, e.g. anime, manga, comics, etc.
Boy was he wrong.
The night of the peanut allergy, it became alarmingly clear that this was not the case.
For lack of a better word Atsumu fell under the category of being a fucking normie.
What's your favorite TV show? I don’t really watch any. Do you like video games? I used to play FIFA with Samu but that’s it. Do you like any anime or manga? I stopped watching anime when I was in middle school. What about comics? Never read any. What do you even do in your spare time? Hang out with friends, go to the gym, I dunno. I mostly just spend my time with you, Omi.
Kiyoomi couldn't even begin to understand how someone could have no interests. What the fuck did get himself into?
“How did you get this far in life without a personality?” Kiyoomi blurted out.
Atsumu shrugged, “Cuz I'm hot?”
Kiyoomi didn’t deny it, he had a point.
They exchanged a few more questions but Atsumu got sleepy soon enough and Kiyoomi wasn’t about to keep him up, after almost killing him no less. They slept but the revelation stuck to Kiyoomi like tar, even when he woke up the next day, even as he watched Atsumu make him tea.
“Basic bitch,” Kiyoomi muttered.
“What did I do?!”
Kiyoomi still doesn't know what did it for him. For all intents and purposes he should loathe Atsumu, his very existence should offend him.
And yet, here they were.
What the fuck was Kiyoomi thinking.
Atsumu was loud and proud. He was insane and rash, he was an affectionately optimistic perfectionist. He was outgoing, happy go lucky in the truest sense. Carefree and untroubled and blithely unconcerned. He was polite and yet cursed like a sailor. He had no filter and little to no self preservation but consistently got perfect marks on all his tests since elementary school.
Miya Atsumu was fucking insane but no more than Kiyoomi for knowing all of this about Atsumu and still liking him.
Kiyoomi liked Atsumu. They had chemistry, simple as that.
Atsumu had a pull that worked on Kiyoomi in the same way Kiyoomi did for Atsumu. They gravitated towards each other but the thing was, he didn’t know where that pull came from.
The truth of the matter was that they’d never had a meaningful conversation in the six months they’d shared together. Kiyoomi knew in his heart of hearts he wanted to be with Atsumu, wanted to see him everyday and talk to him everyday but that didn’t do anything to remedy the huge red flag Kiyoomi had been ignoring for the last three dates.
It didn’t change the fact that the last three dates were so painfully awkward Kiyoomi was just about ready to jump out a window.
They had nothing to talk about and anything they did talk about dried up soon enough which always led them back to square one, ie, stifling silence.
Kiyoomi being partially glad he almost killed Atsumu that night had to be the biggest red flag.
Sure, they had a similar way of thinking, they had the same drive and determination, they had mind blowing sex, but what else? Kiyoomi liked Atsumu as a person, liked his passion and drive. Kiyoomi liked his spirit. But what happens when you’ve become attached to someone you have nothing in common with?
Usually people just break things off when they find out they have nothing in common. Truth be told, that would be a much easier solution. But they’re teammates- No. That’s not the reason the mere thought of breaking things off makes Kiyoomi want to hurl. If he really wanted to, nothing would prevent him from breaking up.
They’ve been together/not-together for about half a year now, Kiyoomi has become attached to Atsumu in a way he can’t explain and doesn’t need to explain, because it’s plain as day Atsumu feels the same way too. This is just a small inconvenience they can and will overcome.
It would be easy to jump ship but when has Kiyoomi ever done things the easy way anyway?
It may sound stupid to the outside observer. All this just because Atsumu doesn’t like the same things as Kiyoomi? But it’s not as shallow as that; his hobbies are the foundation that makes Kiyoomi him . They take up a huge chunk of his heart and being. It’s the way he connects with people, and Atsumu is no exception.
They could keep going as they are, with only sex and their strange chemistry to keep them together but relationships take work and care. Even if you love one another there needs to be something more. What happens when years from now one’s lust dries up and all they have left is that other person in their rawest form.
There needs to be a connection, something to keep them together, relationships don’t survive with love alone.
Embarrassingly enough, back when he was younger, Kiyoomi often liked to imagine the person he’d marry. Someone who he could be comfortable with, someone he could share silence with.
Someone who gets him and all his quirks.
More than anything Kiyoomi craved a partner that felt like a best friend, someone to keep him company for the rest of his life.
Quality time is how Kiyoomi bonds, so what will happen when they have nothing to take up that time? There has to be something in common, even the most different people have something in common.
Kiyoomi does things until the end, he doesn’t quit, never has and never will. Like hell was he going to let Atsumu go for something so stupid.
A plan formed in his head.
First and foremost he needed a list. No plan is ever good until there’s a list. Now, what is Kiyoomi looking to achieve? What does he want? What does Kiyoomi like and what does he want to share with Atsumu?
Well, there are anime series and movies, there’s also video games, although there are a lot of types and different genres. There’s also manga and comics. Stories with pictures basically. Easy enough.
He wrote everything down on a post it note and kept it in his wallet.
Objective:
- Read manga
- Play video games
- Watch anime series and movies