yingles tingles wringles pringles is FREE

yingles tingles wringles pringles is FREE



the most surprising thing kiyoomi found out about atsumu is that he likes to just… collapse, sometimes. it started before they began dating, actually. “i’m hyped! that was so good! did you see that spin on tobio’s serve?” atsumu can be heard -

from outside the locker room, gushing about their opponents service ace. the only ones celebrating with him is hinata. the rest of the team was basically sleeping standing up. they had won, but at a cost. “hehe, that was the best serve.” hinata replies with a smirk.

kiyoomi’s sure his core is the only thing keeping him upright now, because he can’t feel his legs. seriously, are they even there? “dude, you’re the one who couldn’t receive it.” atsumu laughs loudly as he begins to walk towards kiyoomi. kiyoomi swerves on instinct to make way.

then, atsumu’s head drops to press against kiyoomi’s shoulder, and he closes his eyes, and /slumps/. “oh holy shit.” kiyoomi reaches to grab atsumu before he falls, frantically stabilising them against the lockers. atsumu’s an entire seventy three kilograms of muscle,

and kiyoomi cannot feel his legs, so they both sink to the floor, atsumu on his knees between kiyoomi’s legs, face pressed to his collarbone. “is he dead?” meian pipes from where his laid on the bench of the locker room. fuck, atsumu is so damn close! “oi, miya, get up.”

kiyoomi slaps atsumu’s cheek twice, and turns his face over to see him taking deep, slow breaths. “just asleep.” kiyoomi breathes out. his cheeks feel like they’re burning. luckily, the rest of the team is too dead to notice. atsumu is so gross right now, but his nose is -

also breathing hot breaths onto kiyoomi’s collarbone, and it’s doing things to his mind. they end calling osamu to help carry atsumu back home. when osamu arrives and sees the state they’re in, he gives a confused kiyoomi a firm fist-bump.

“congrats.” he says simply, before hoisting his brother up by the arm. “what.” osamu sends him a satisfied grin. “tsumu collapsed on you, didn’t he?” kiyoomi nods helplessly. “when tsumu’s tired, he only gives in on someone he feels safe with.”

kiyoomi blinks, and osamu just laughs knowingly before dragging atsumu out of the locker room, leaving kiyoomi on the floor, face flushed. when they finally start dating with kiyoomi’s effort, it looks more like this instead. “atsumu, please at least get to the sofa.”

“no promises, omi.” atsumu sends him a bright smile, but kiyoomi knows. he’s going to collapse the second they get through the door of their apartment. no promises indeed, because atsumu’s knees give way the second he steps into the apartment, and kiyoomi’s holding him by -

the arm, sighing heavily. atsumu’s been working hard recently, with trying to perfect a spike with bokuto to “destroy that stupid tree ushiwaka.” kiyoomi shakes his head. maybe he deserves to be pampered a little. kiyoomi drags him to the bathroom and bathes them both, -

plopping atsumu in the bathtub and shampooing his hair. atsumu’s dead to the world, but he sends kiyoomi a satisfied smile occasionally. usually when the water is that perfect temperature, or when kiyoomi’s hands press against a knot in atsumu’s back. it’s kind of cute.

when he’s finally satisifed that they’re both sufficiently clean, kiyoomi’ll carry atsumu to their bedroom to dry his hair. he vehemently denies princess carrying atsumu, but it’s really the most convenient carry for a man this size. atsumu even nuzzles his nose -

against kiyoomi’s collarbone when he does it. it’s worth it. kiyoomi dries their hair, moisturises their faces, applies hair serum to atsumu’s mop of a head, and tucks him in, kiyoomi himself joining soon after. atsumu always wakes up from this feeling particularly shiny.

sure, it’s annoying, and sometimes kiyoomi would also like to pass out with him on the floor, but osamu’s words ring in his head true. kiyoomi’ll make atsumu feel as safe as he possibly can, that he’ll swear.

and well, if atsumu’s sleepy smile is just a little too cute to pass up, maybe kiyoomi’s okay with washing his bleach fried hair every once in a while.

// end! u ever do something and think about how sakuatsu could probably make is grossly romantic, and how you’re very lonely and single? me too!

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