eddy is busy

eddy is busy



sakuatsu, strangers to lovers, happy birthday huni bear @ambrosicl 🌻 kiyoomi is overworked, underpaid, and extremely pissed off. he's on his sixth closing shift in a row, trying to finish up the last bits of cleaning before he can flip the cafe's sign to closed.

it's been a rough saturday, full of rude customers and complicated custom drinks. hinata called in sick again, leaving him understaffed and having to deal with bokuto's energy aimed directly at him all day without the redhead as a buffer.

kiyoomi has been trying to keep his headache at bay since lunch but the thought of having nowhere to go but his dorms, where he will be presumably studying until the early hours of the morning, has finally pushed the pain into dangerous territory.

so yeah, kiyoomi doesn't feel like jumping for joy right at this very moment. just as he rounds the counter to head for the door, the very annoying jingle of bells alerts him of someone entering the shop.

snapping his head up with a wince, ready to scold bokuto for forgetting something /again/, kiyoomi stops, words failing him and replaced with a small squeak. there in front of him is the very unwelcome sight of a new customer.

"we are closed," kiyoomi says without missing a beat, fear crawling up his spine at an alarming rate. the stranger blinks a couple of times, looks at his watch and back at kiyoomi, who has just noticed the state of disarray the man in front of him is in.

he is tall, tanned, and blonde, which to kiyoomi is arguably attractive, but he is also sweaty, breathing heavy, and extremely red faced in a very unsexy type of way, so kiyoomi settles on definitely unattractive.

"no, yer not closed for another minute, actually," the man replies. "that's enough time right?" massaging his temples, kiyoomi sighs. he isn't sure if this customer is being serious or not, but he’s spent the day entertaining bokuto so his patience has been well used up.

"i cannot make you a drink in less than a minute, so you're out of luck." kiyoomi says, walking toward the door to direct the newest pain in his ass out of his damn shop. "that's not gonna get ya a very good yelp review," he smirks.

if kiyoomi wasn't so tired and stretched thin he might’ve stopped to register that that exact smirk has been plastered all over the front of the magazines he stocked by the cafe’s entrance just this morning.

he might even remind himself that he could get fired for pushing a potential paying customer away, but he is exhausted and in the desperate need to get whoever the strange man standing in front of the door is to get the fuck out.

“look,” kiyoomi starts, grimacing at the rude tone he /knows/ would get him reprimanded by suga. “there is a mcdonald's down the street. they have decent enough coffee to get the fix you’re after. everything here has been put away and cleaned.”

kiyoomi hopes this solution and explanation will suffice but with the way the dude /is not leaving/ gives kiyoomi the awful feeling that this man is a lot stranger than he originally thought.

“i would love to get out of yer hair, i really would, but i cannot leave this building for at least another 20 minutes.” shifting nervously, kiyoomi puts his hands in his apron pockets. his right hand wraps around his phone and his left tightly grips +

the pen he stashes there to keep away from bokuto’s forgetful hands. at kiyoomi’s movements, the stranger either realizes how sketchy it is that he, a tall man with a rather large stature and wearing all black, has just entered a completely empty coffee shop demanding +

that he is given shelter, or that the panic in kiyoomi’s face isn’t because of the possibility of having to make another coffee after cleaning the machines. whatever he concludes, the man moves forward with his hands outstretched in a poor attempt at reassurance.

kiyoomi takes a large step back and directs his deadliest glare at the door. “shit, okay this looks so bad right now, but i promise i'm not gonna hurt ya.” kiyoomi squints at him, “that’s not reassuring.”

“hold up, do ya not know who i am?” the man almost seems surprised, as if kiyoomi is the weird one who doesn't know every bottle blond who comes into his place of work.

the surprise slips into a confident nod as he stands up tall, looks at kiyoomi and flashes a smile so phony kiyoomi almost laughs. “miya atsumu,” he says, pride dripping from every syllable.

with all the fanfare, kiyoomi almost feels bad for the guy. possibly miya, or not (kiyoomi isn’t sure if he believes him just yet), is standing in the entrance of a run down cafe that serves mediocre coffee and soggy bagels smiling as if he just won an oscar.

after a few awkward moments of silence, kiyoomi tilts his head to the side in a purposeful show of mockery and asks “who?” miya splutters, the facade instantly dropping and shattering on the floor at his feet. “whaddya mean /who/?”

miya seems to think kiyoomi just insulted his whole bloodline with the way he stressfully runs his fingers through sweaty blond hair, making it stand up at weird angles. the fear that was once sending chills down kiyoomi's spine +

is suddenly replaced with the need to laugh himself silly. “i don’t know who you are, so if you would, please use the exit behind you so i can go home.”

“i can’t! i know ya dont know me and this is going to be super awkward but there is a group of young girls out there who are tryna get a picture with me and i don’t want to deal with that right now.”

as if to bring his point home, miya takes a peek out the window at the empty street. “are you scared of a group of young girls?” kiyoomi raises an eyebrow and lets out an amused huff. ++

“ha ha, yuk it up, i'm scared of teenagers.” miya rolls his eyes. “isn't everyone? they are capable of scary shit.” just as miya finishes his sentence, there is a loud bang coming from the door of the jewlery shop next door.

kiyoomi can hear shrill voices and the name “atsumu” being called out instantly. in that moment, miya’s body goes straight in fear. he looks at kiyoomi with wide eyes in a plea for help.

kiyoomi must be more tired than he thought, because when he meets miya's worried gaze, he almost feels bad. /almost/. decidedly not out of pity, kiyoomi decides to entertain miya and beckon him further into the cafe. he stands awkwardly as kiyoomi makes quick work of the lock.

miya moves instantly when kiyoomi turns toward the counter that is home to all the coffee machines. he scurries after kiyoomi and as soon as they reach cover, miya stumbles to hide behind the counter and squats down.

well, kiyoomi thinks, it’s gotten this far and if he is murdered tonight then he wont have to start and subsequently finish his biology report that is due tomorrow.

so, after placing his apron on the floor to act as a barrier from the gross floor, he sits too. it’s awkward. there is a man, seemingly popular enough to have fans willing to go knocking at every door on a deserted street looking for him, sitting +

in a ball on the floor of his workplace. kiyoomi tries to think if he has been in any weirder positions in his life, but surprisingly comes up short. he will finally have a story for motoya the next time they go out for drinks.

“how long do you think they’ll be out there?” kiyoomi asks, moreso asking so he knows when he will be able to take a shower after sitting on a dirty floor. kiyoomi thinks that miya mistakes his distaste for germs as sympathy by the way he smiles and shrugs his shoulders.

“dunno, sometimes i’m stuck waitin’ for hours, sometimes 10 minutes.” kiyoomi hums and rests his chin on his knees. “aren’t ya gonna ask who i am?” miya asks after a few minutes of silence. kiyoomi wished it lasted a bit longer.

“i don't see how that’s any of my business.” kiyoomi replies. kiyoomi finally allows himself to take in miya’s appearance now he seems to have calmed down since his sprint into the cafe.

he looks smaller now he is hunched behind the cafe counter, a lot less intimidating than when he barged in demanding a place to hide.

he has sleepy eyes, bold eyebrows that look almost too manicured and freckles dusted on his cheeks like little constellations. kiyoomi suddenly has the urge to trace them and see if he can make something.

kiyoomi can understand why miya has fans chasing him; he has a very lovable face. kiyoomi is sure if miya allowed himself to flash a real smile, kiyoomi might be able to see the small laugh lines by his lips.

“i haven’t gotten yer name yet, i feel it's only right that I know the name of my hero.” kiyoomi quickly turns his head away, embarrassed he was caught staring at miya’s lips. “sakusa.” “care to share more?” “no. just sakusa.” “okay, just sakusa, are ya a student?”

and that’s how it started. kiyoomi soon figures out that not only is miya atsumu unfairly attractive, but he is also impossibly charming. he seemed to have regained his confidence after fully relaxing knowing he is hidden away from his adoring fans.

he asks questions about kiyoomi, simple questions like what he studies and where his favourite restaurant is (“sociology and i don’t like eating out”). kiyoomi finds it easy to open up, but he makes sure to +

keep his answers short; keeping miya on his toes brings kiyoomi an unexplainable amount of joy. that, and because ever since miya was able to rattle kiyoomi’s full name from him, he hasn't stopped referring to him as omi-omi.

suddenly kiyoomi’s biting replies aren’t out of annoyance, but instead, he does it out of spite – he likes the way atsumu’s eyes flash with the challenge to keep digging. it becomes almost like a game, and both players are ready to win.

kiyoomi asks the simple questions back (“after i graduated i burnt all my textbooks and swore off school!” kiyoomi accidentally let out an embarrassing squeak at that. “i enjoy eating at a small family owned restaurant in osaka.”).

kiyoomi never breaches the /who are you/ question, not because he isn’t curious, because he certainly is now, but because he feels like it would disturb the light-hearted banter they’ve developed with each other in the tight space of the cafe’s workspace.

they probably sit there well beyond the 20 minutes miya originally requested, but kiyoomi isn’t sure he minds too much. not only does he get to keep putting off the inevitable all-nighter at his desk, he is spending time with a pretty stranger in a situation taken +

straight from a cheesy romance novel (the kind he hides under his bed so motoya doesn’t find them). their bubble is popped by miya’s phone buzzing instantly with multiple texts flooding his inbox with seconds in between.

miya looks down at his phone with a frown that morphs into realization. “time really flies when yer havin fun, omi-omi,” he says with a smile. kiyoomi has the overwhelming need to place a kiss right on the silly little crease in miya’s cheek kiyoomi /knew/ was there.

“is it okay to go?” kiyoomi asks instead. “my driver will be here in 5 minutes, so yeah.” “okay.” kiyoomi says slowly, hesitation and curiosity laced in his tone.

miya must see the struggle kiyoomi is experiencing trying not to ask about the ‘driver’ because that soft smile is lighting up his features yet again. kiyoomi curses miya and gifts him with an eye roll so dramatic even motoya would be insulted. ++

when headlights glare into the cafe’s front windows, miya gets up and holds out a hand to help kiyoomi up. shoving the feeling of giddiness /deep/ down, kiyoomi takes the outstretched hand.

they end up close; the space behind the counter has never been that large to begin with (he has gone home with a few bruises on his chest from bokuto’s flying elbows). this is different from navigating the space with his coworkers, though.

instead, kiyoomi can feel the warmth radiating off of miya, and it takes a lot out of kiyoomi to step away instead of toward miya’s body.

he eventually does, rounding the counter and heading toward the front door. as kiyoomi makes an attempt at unlocking the door with a few jiggles and a particularly hard shove, miya hangs back at the counter.

after kiyoomi peeks out and announces that the coast is clear, miya jogs over, shoves a napkin into kiyoomis hands and shines a bright charming smile at kiyoomi. “thanks for this omi-omi, i owe ya one.” miya says as he lifts his hood up on his messy blond hair. he gives +

kiyoomi another radiant smile and a wink before departing into the night and into the unmarked car. kiyoomi another radiant smile and a wink before departing into the night an into the unmarked car.tten in large, messy handwriting.

maybe kiyoomi might jump for joy tonight after all. instead of going through his endless mental lists as he completes his work, he thinks about an accent and the pair of hazel eyes that go along with it. going through the motions of finally closing up and making his way +

back to his dorm feels as if he is walking on clouds, his legs jelly and stomach doing swoops like gravity has stopped affecting him. kiyoomi thinks that, for the first time in his 22 years, he is going to go bed happy that he was scheduled for the closing shift tonight.

kiyoomi’s stupor lasts until he is safely locked into his dorm room and reality smacks him in the face. /who the fuck is miya atsumu/? he trips over his desk as he dives for his laptop and stubs his toe trying to find his charger because he was too tired after lecture +

to plug it in. as soon as google is launched, kiyoomi takes no time typing in the name of the person who effectively scrambled his brain multiple times in a row.

/miya atsumu, famous actor caught…/ /childhood star miya atsumu…/ /true crimes most beloved actor, miya atsumu is seen…/ kiyoomi is sucked into the trap of doom scrolling, watching as news articles flash at him.

refusing on too many of them, he just lets this new, earth rattling information settle heavily in his brain. miya atsumu isn’t just an average celebrity, no. he is one of the most sought out actors in popular culture at the moment.

no wonder he was confused as to why kiyoomi hadn’t heard his name. kiyoomi groans loudly. miya must think he lives under a rock. it’s not totally untrue, kiyoomi just prefers media from the early 80s and pays little attention to celebrity gossip.

in a fit of misplaced anger, kiyoomi pulls up the contact info in his phone that he transferred from the napkin before leaving work, and texts out a simple text /what the fuck./ a quick response comes in the form of 3 quick texts of multiple strings of /HAHAHAHA/

anger sizzles into disbelief, then settles back to that giddiness he felt as he typed in miya’s number. kiyoomi doesn't actually jump for joy, but he does squirm in excitement under his sheets like a child on their birthday eve.

kiyoomi spends a few minutes staring at the ceiling and then spends a few more cussing miya out over text.

two haunting thoughts hit him after miya confirms their next date and wishes him goodnight: 1) he still hasn't started his biology report and 2) motoya is going to have a hay day with this.

and that concludes this novel >:) HAHAH THIS WAS LONGER THAN I EXPECTED, sorry for the novel huni but also i love u i hope u liked this i took inspiration from u <3

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