yingles tingles wringles pringles is FREE

yingles tingles wringles pringles is FREE



“okay, omi-omi, i know it’s a saturday, but i have a /problem/.” atsumu hears kiyoomi sigh over the phone, and he can’t even blame the dude. nothing good has ever come out of atsumu having a problem. “what do you want, miya.” kiyoomi sounds astronomically annoyed.

atsumu kinda wants to bury himself underground and die. “do you. happen to have a screwdriver.” kiyoomi doesn’t respond for a while, and atsumu has to check if he hung up. but then, he sighs. “what do you need it for.” “um.” atsumu flips to the front of the instruction -

manual. “i need to build a… lixhult?” kiyoomi sounds like he’s getting further away from the phone. “a what?” “it’s a cabinet? swedish people love their cabinets.” atsumu pauses sheepishly. “it’s for my living room.” kiyoomi sighs. it’s clear that he’s far away from the -

phone, but the sigh rings loud and clear all the same. “give me 10 minutes.” atsumu laughs like he’s seen god. “oh my god, thank you, literally no one else is free with a screwdriver. or a brain, actually.” “you included?” atsumu huffs. “obviously.”

kiyoomi laughs in response, the first non-sarcastic sound of the day. “see you.” he hangs up. atsumu isn’t lying. bokuto is at akaashi’s place, and atsumu would rather die than call in the middle of something. inunaki is apparently getting his back cracked to hell and back, -

meian is at zumba (wtf?), hinata is at the gym, and the lesser miya is “busy with the shop”. piece of shit. kiyoomi is quite literally his last option. atsumu wants to pull his hair out. he does /not/ have any ulterior motives. but if he has the opportunity to ask his -

incredibly hot teammate to come over to… fix some furniture, he’ll be stupid not to jump for it. he really does need this cabinet, though. his cds have been in a stack on the floor for months. kiyoomi, true to his word, knocks on atsumu’s door ten minutes later.

atsumu pulls the neck of his shirt to expose his collarbone, runs a hand through his hair, and opens the door. “omi, thank god.” he sighs. kiyoomi looks like he wants to thank god too, but for different reasons. “can’t believe i’m doing this on my day off.” kiyoomi huffs, -

but his eyes flicker between atsumu’s collarbone and the door hinge. he’s not being very convincing. atsumu smiles smugly. “come on in, omi-omi.” when kiyoomi sets his eyes on the pile of wood on the floor, he sighs. “it cannot be that difficult.”

“try to assemble this shit without a damn screwdriver!” atsumu huffs indignantly. “how are you a functioning adult?” kiyoomi bends down to flip through the instruction manual. atsumu decides to leave kiyoomi to do his capable adult things and make them some tea.

when atsumu comes back to the living room, kiyoomi’s sat on the floor, sleeves of his black long sleeved henley rolled up, legs spread and propped on the floor to screw two pieces together. atsumu stares so hard he loses time. “you gonna give me some tea or what.”

atsumu jolts out of his daze, face burning. “yeah, sorry.” this is so worth it. atsumu settles beside him, placing a cup of tea tentatively on the floor. for the next hour, kiyoomi simply asks for parts, and atsumu gives them to him. kiyoomi’s focused and his forearms -

strain when twisting the screws, and kiyoomi’s thighs flex as he leans over and- atsumu’s having a field day. it also does not help how domestic this all feels. it’s like kiyoomi’s fixing their furniture while atsumu lovingly passes him the screws. it’s doing things to -

atsumu’s brain. “done.” kiyoomi huffs after about an hour of silent work. “oh my god, thank you.” kiyoomi hums, putting his screwdrivers back in the toolbox, strangely slowly. like he’s trying to prolong something. oh? “dinner on me?” atsumu asks hopefully.

kiyoomi sends atsumu a look. a beat passes. “fine. i’m choosing the restaurant.” “obviously.” atsumu answers with obvious glee. kiyoomi raises an eyebrow. “i hope you’re not like this with your other guests.” kiyoomi sounds almost petulant.

atsumu tilts his head in confusion. “like what?“ kiyoomi reaches over to pull the neck of atsumu’s tshirt over his collarbone. the back of his hand grazes atsumu’s neck, and atsumu shivers. “like that.” kiyoomi looks away. atsumu has to hold back a satisfied laugh.

“back at you. don’t you know how nice your forearms are?” kiyoomi’s face doesn’t change, but his ears turn immediately blood red. it’s cute. with the newfound knowledge that his affections might be reciprocated, and this dinner might be a date, atsumu stretches his arms -

with a satisfied yawn. “wanna get ramen?” he says, happiness evident in his voice. kiyoomi doesn’t turn around, but atsumu can see him smile all the same. “yeah. let’s get ramen.”

// end ! i present: the lixhult

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