MISTLETOE 5+1: ‘22 SECRET SANTA EXCHANGE

Completed fanfiction based on characters from Haikyuu. Secret Santa fic exchange. 4k.

It was Hinata’s idea first.

As his best friend and only confidante about his not-so-secret yearning for all things sappy and romantic, they had been binging holiday romcoms while eating their weight in sweets and promising each other to work it off after the holidays.

After their third movie of the night, a bit too much spiked eggnog, and a male lead with dark curly hair, Hinata cries out “I KNEW IT!” And Atsumu realizes, horrifyingly in a slow-mo mockery of his worst fear, that he had indeed been rambling aimlessly about the bane of his existence: Sakusa Kiyoomi.

“I always knew you liked him,” Hinata says, his extra bright smile too wide and too close as he shakes Atsumu by the shoulders like a rag doll and not a 6’2” athlete.

Atsumu can’t help but weakly respond with a dumb, “what?” Like this was news to him as well, even though it was very much not news at all. In fact, he’s known for a long time. His brother has known longer than he has, for sure. He’s known since he first set eyes on the boy all those years ago, but didn’t realize the “competition” he had started for himself was not only one-sided, but just him peacocking for a certain curly-haired spiker’s attention.

Osamu came out of that confrontation with a nasty bruise on his arm and the most smug grin on his face, but he was right and Atsumu will never admit it.

It took him years to admit to it himself, probably when Omi-Omi stopped being a taunt and became a term of endearment, the sharp bite of it softening at the edges until it was gentle with a reverence that only comes with plenitudes of affection.

He vowed to himself that no one would find out, that no one would know, and that he’d live in the ignorant bliss that was denial, content with being in love with his best friend forever. But, his worst fear had been realized and with that, one of the loudest mouths he knows shouted out the truth he had been cowering from for so long.

“You like Omi!”

Atsumu wants to curl into a ball and wail in despair. So, he does. He grabs the comforter that Hinata is currently sitting on top of and yanks until the redhead and his laptop go flying. He tucks it around his head to try and suffocate himself into unconsciousness and lets out a dramatic and totally deserved wail.

“It’s okay, Atsu! I’ll help you out!” Hinata grabs the edge of the blanket and pulls until its released, letting in oxygen and the creeping fear of oh my god what if he finds out.

“Hinata, I need you to stop yelling, please.” And he mocks the zipping of his lips, immediately beaming at Atsumu and breaking the illusion.

“Still,” Hinata says, softly this time, “I can help you. I’m gonna get you two together.”

“How? Do you know how long it took for you and Kageyama to admit your feelings?”

Hinata goes red in the face, squawking and waving his arms around, “that doesn’t count!”

“Besides, we don’t even know if he likes me,” Atsumu sighs and Hinata’s face goes red again, but he’s still, the most still Atsumu has seen him in a long time.

“What? Why do you look like that?”

“Nothing!” Hinata yells and grabs the computer from the floor, “I didn’t say anything.” Atsumu raises a brow at him, but Hinata waves him off. “Anyways, I have an idea.”

***

The idea is mistletoe.

It’s an awful idea. A cliche and stupid idea. One that only works in movies. Or for married, sentimental couples. It won’t work on a touch-and-germ-adverse grinch of a man. Because Kiyoomi hated Christmas. Because Kiyoomi had to be persuaded (bullied) into coming to the Christmas party at all. Because Kiyoomi will take one look at the branch above him, call it a fungus, and leave the party and everything will be ruined.

“It’s a great idea!” Hinata smiles at him, hopping down from the ladder with a beam like he’s just completed a stellar quick instead of tacked Atsumu’s fate to the doorframe.

Hinata and him are in charge of the decorations, as they’re the ones who care the most. According to the redhead, its all going according to plan . No one is allowed into the shared living room until the party the next night, except for Bokuto when he finally gets back with the tree. He’s taking forever though, as he usually does with things when Akaashi is involved.

“It’s not gonna work,” Atsumu tells him.

***

It doesn’t work.

The party is in full swing, presents are under the tree, booze is already loosening the crowd, and Atsumu has not had one Kiyoomi kiss yet.

Granted, the spiker hasn’t even shown up yet.

“He’ll be here,” Hinata whispers to him as he pours another glass of spiked egg nog for himself. He sips it slowly, letting it warm him more than affect him, unlike some of his teammates. Hinata’s already gone a bit ruddy in the face and Akaashi cannot stop sitting on his husband’s lap, so the night is already underway.

Despite spending three hours picking out his outfit and spending half of that time on the phone with his twin whining about the peril of tonight’s events, he still wonders if he should change. He has a classy, Christmas-themed grandpa” sweater (as Suna called it) but he wonders if it’s too dorky or unflattering. Maybe Kiyoomi won’t like the scratch of the wool blend. Maybe he won’t like the clash of red and green together. Maybe he’ll hate it as much as he hates the holiday.

And maybe, just maybe, to Atsumu’s detriment, he’ll actually show up and look absolutely stunning in a deep emerald button down that looks so soft to the touch, his dark curls styled to perfection and his face devoid of a mask for once. His hands grasp the present in his arms a bit too tight and his eyes scan the room, flitting around with a bit of nervousness that always takes him over in group settings. His dark gaze settles on Atsumu and it feels like a punch to his chest when he’s hit, yet again, with the crushing reality of how beautiful Sakusa Kiyoomi is.

Atsumu raises his hand to wave to him and kiyoomi tries to wave back, unable to let go of his present. Hinata says something at his side, but it doesn’t register. He knows it must be some words of encouragement, but it’s garbled and underwater at this point.

Komori bursts in, shouldering past his cousin and the moment is broken.

***

Atsumu is going to pull out all of the platinum blond hair he has meticulously made sure was quaffed just right in order to catch a certain person’s eye.

It’s two hours into the party and fate has not aligned yet to allow a mistletoe kiss with Kiyoomi.

He’s gotten a mistletoe kiss. He’s gotten a couple. He tried camping out, waiting at the door frame to ambush kiyoomi after returning to the kitchen to get a refill of his drink, but Bokuto came through instead.

“Awh, Tsumu!” He had yelled and grabbed his face and given him a big, sloppy smooch right on the mouth. Startled and shocked, he barely saw Hinata’s facepalm or the bright and happy giggle that Akaashi hid behind his hand.

Instead, he grumbled out “Merry Christmas” and returned to his seat. As soon as he sits, Kiyoomi walks through the door, taking in the laughter of Bokuto and the blanched face of Atsumu and shaking his head, muttering “I don’t want to know,” before sitting down next to their captain.

Atsumu’s hand itches and he wishes to call to Kiyoomi, to have him look his way at least, wanting him to sit next to him the most, but Hinata’s occupying the space next to him and his only option is to sink into the cushions and drown in despair.

***

His second kiss was his Captain, who gave Atsumu a quick peck on the cheek when he was helping bring out the second round of snacks, laughing heartily at how red Atsumu’s face got.

The blond couldn’t help but look at the object of his desires, hoping he would notice or catch on or something , but he was engrossed in a conversation with Komori, gesticulating in such a passionate way that Atsumu feared any interruption. Komori giddily whispered into Kiyoomi’s ear and he rubbed at the bridge of his nose, a sign that he really was more stressed and annoyed than usual, and Atsumu wished to ask him what was the issue, to try and solve whatever ailed him. Dark eyes flickered to his and he looked away quickly, missing the blush that settled high onto Kiyoomi’s cheeks.

***

The third kiss didn’t involve Atsumu at all. Instead, someone beat him to his man. Kiyoomi was in the middle of walking through the door frame and a big smacking noise surprised them all as Bokuto jumped forward and planted one on the Scrooge.

It made Atsumu laugh so hard he forgot his annoyance, the stiff stature of Kiyoomi and the appalled look on his face sending Atsumu into tears. When he could catch his breath, he looked to Kiyoomi to see that the disgust had vanished and instead, he was looking at Atsumu, a slight smile present on his face.

It was a look he shared most with Atsumu, his eyes full of mirth and the tiniest tick up of the corner of his mouth, so often hidden by one of his masks. But here he was, open and vulnerable with all the world to see how he smiled for the setter. And oh did the team see.

***

The fourth kiss is a betrayal. Not exaggerating, Atsumu considers ending their friendship.

Motoya gets Hinata hooked on the idea of shots and together, they corral all of MSBY and their adjacents into the kitchen. Between Komori’s threats and Shoyou’s puppy dog eyes, everyone finds themselves with a drink in hand, cheering to the holiday and throwing it back with the clanking sounds of glasses and groans of protest and regret. Kiyoomi leaves the kitchen first, sitting down in the chair he’s been occupying all night, and Atsumu knows this is his first real chance of the night to talk to his Omi. But, as he turns to leave, he hears the shout of his name and barely has time to react before his arms are full of a smaller, but very muscular body and Shoyou’s lips are pressed to his. With a big, flourished “MWAH!” Hinata parts from Atsumu, his arms and legs wrapped around the setter’s body. He laughs and says, “sorry I was tempted,” and Atsumu almost drops him but he’s too entwined around him, so Atsumu staggers into the room with Hinata koala-ing him while he grumbles and cusses out his best friend. He finally pries the redhead from him and plops him onto the couch when Kageyama walks through the door and the significantly drunk Hinata clambers after his boyfriend.

Atsumu turns to find Kiyoomi fiddling with the ring on his middle finger—something he only does when he’s nervous— and averting Atsumu’s gaze. Before he can make a move to take up the space next to his crush, Ushijima, plops down next to Kiyoomi to greet his old friend and Atsumu almost cries out in anguish.

He vows to prevent Ushijima from entering the kitchen because if he seems him kiss Kiyoomi, he’ll lose it right then and there and get kicked off of the team for having lost his sanity.

***

Atsumu is in the kitchen, steadily drinking his third drink of the night—something stronger than he should probably be consuming at this hour— when Kiyoomi finds him. He sidles up to him, watching him for a moment as he watches the ice cubes swirl around in his drink, dark brows furrowed in some thought.

As soon as he notices the presence besides him, his face softens and he smiles wide and Kiyoomi has the urge to mirror it.

“Omi!,” he exclaims.

“Miya,” he returns.

“Wasn’t sure if you were gonn’ show,” Atsumu admits, bumping his hip into Kiyoomi’s but still keeping a distance, not noticing how close Kiyoomi put himself, not realizing how desperately Kiyoomi wants to dispose of that distance. “I’m glad u did.”

“That so?” Kiyoomi smirks and quickly hides it behind a sip of his drink.

“Well, yaknow,” he says, gesturing to the room with his cup and almost lodging all of its contents onto the floor, “Crowds aren’t usually your thing.”

“Yes, but I still come to the gatherings.”

Atsumu hums into his drink and Kiyoomi’s patience is thinning. The setter gets lost in thought again, obviously thinking too hard about whatever thing he’s gotten himself down about this time. Kiyoomi takes him in, the dark of his brows, the golden glitter of the Christmas lights reflecting in his eyes, the persistent freckles that stay long after the sun has left. He takes a deep breath.

“You help a lot.”

Atsumu looks at him, blinking away whatever thoughts he had been swirling in.

“What?”

Kiyoomi swallows. “You help a lot.”

Atsumu laughs, and Kiyoomi loves his laugh, but this one is hollow, full of disbelief.

“That’s a joke if I’ve heard one, Omi-Omi.”

Kiyoomi frowns and puts his drink down on the counter, turning fully to Atsumu.

“It’s true. You make sure I’m not overwhelmed and that I have the space I need. You make sure things are sanitized before I deal with them because you know I get uncomfortable asking multiple times. You take control of the conversation because you know I hate small talk and you redirect it to subjects you know I would enjoy.”

Atsumu’s eyes are wide, his mouth slightly ajar with disbelief and Kiyoomi oh god he wants to kiss him. His eyes dart all over Kiyoomi’s face, taking him in and looking for one ounce of insincerity but he know’s Atsumu won’t find any because everyone knows Kiyoomi’s emotions are most visible on his face, that his face is disdain is incredibly hard to hide and Atsumu knows what every tick of his face means like he programmed his instincts himself.

Kiyoomi wets his lips and Atsumu tracks the motion and Kiyoomi is good at reading signs. He knows what moves to make, can read plays as well as he can execute them and knows an opening when he sees one. So he lines up. Sees his where he wants to shoot.

“Atsumu—“

The setter’s breath hitches.

He sees where he wants to shoot.

He winds up and—

“‘Tsumu!”

He hits a block.

“‘Samu?”

Atsumu breaks from Kiyoomi to be swept up in the arms of his twin. Kiyoomi can’t even be upset—he knows how much the blond has been missing his brother. He smiles at the exchange, at how Osamu picks him his brother, despite not being a professional athlete, and spins him around. Suna records the whole thing behind them.

“I thought you were stuck at the shop!”

“I lied?”

This is one of Kiyoomi’s favorite laughs, the full bodied, absolutely elated noise that erupts from Atsumu’s chest. He knows all of Atsumu’s laughs like he knows Kiyoomi’s minute facial expressions, knows how to read them all and which are the good and which are the best and knows the ones he loves and the ones he’s afraid to hear. But this one, is one of the best, melting away the annoyance that came at being interrupted. He picks up his drink, sipping at it again while the twins exchange their pleasantries. He knows it will be a moment before he can talk to his setter again, so he sneaks past, narrowly avoiding Atsumu’s hands as he enthusiastically tells his brother about some story Kiyoomi’s heard at least three times now.

From the couch, everyone misses the strangled noise of excitement that comes from Hinata, some punched out squeal, getting the attention of the twins and everyone else. But by the time Atsumu’s eyes widen with realization and he looks up to door frame where the mistletoe hangs, Kiyoomi has already reached the other side of the room and Osamu is wiggling his brows at his brother, already fully aware of the plan he had hatched with Hinata.

“Oh, come on !” he yells. “You have got to be fucking with me.”

The smack of Hinata’s palm against his forehead can be heard past all of the chatter and Christmas songs.

“Oi, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu singsongs. “I know I’m not the one you wanted, but gimme a big ‘ole kiss anyways.” He points to his cheek with a shit eating grin and Atsumu grabs his face to lick a wet stripe up his cheek. Osamu sputters, pushing his brother off and chases him around the kitchen as Atsumu howls in laughter, Suna still recording it all.

***

Atsumu is frantically brushing his teeth in the shared bathroom when there’s a knock at the doorframe.

He looks up to find Kiyoomi leaning against the frame, laughter in his eyes, as he watches the setter spit out the toothpaste.

“Omi!” He tries through the full mouth. He rinses out with mouthwash and grimaces after he spits it all out. “Had to wash out Osamu germs.” Kiyoomi watches him through the mirror, letting the smile finally come out on his face.

“What?” Atsumu asks, smile breaking out on his own face as he takes in Kiyoomi’s. “Do I have something on my face.”

The brunet shakes his head, laughing under his breath.

“You’re an idiot,” he says, but it’s fond. Atsumu laughs softly and it fills Kiyoomi’s chest the way it always does.

“Follow me,” Kiyoomi says, leaving the bathroom and walking the couple paces to Atsumu’s room.

“What’s up, Omi? Are you overwhelmed? Do you need a break?”

Kiyoomi is smiling wide now, shaking his head and huffing a small laugh to himself again. Incredulous. Atsumu smiles back at him, basking in the rare moment that this is. He can count on one hand the amount of times he’s seen Kiyoomi’s full smile. It’s a rare treasure that he keeps dear for the bad days.

“No, I just didn’t want to do this in the bathroom.”

“Do what?”

Atsumu tilts his head, taking in the blush that settles high on Kiyoomi’s cheekbones. He decides in that moment that this is his favorite Kiyoomi, happy and carefree. He almost misses Kiyoomi’s hand as it comes from behind his back and hovers above their heads.

“Atsumu,” he says so gently and the blond doesn’t believe he will ever want to hear his name from another’s lips. He’s never heard Kiyoomi say his full name before today and he’s decided he’ll never be the same after knowing what it sounds, how reverent it feels.

He’s looking into Kiyoomi’s eyes, once again losing himself in the darkness of them. Kiyoomi’s finger settles under his chin and his line of sight is tilted upwards and he finally sees it—the mistletoe.

He can’t help but gasp, looking to Kiyoomi, his heart beating fast in his chest. The spiker’s hand is still against his chin, his finger grazing his chin until his whole hand cups Atsumu’s cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” Kiyoomi asks and Atsumu thinks that if he tries to speak he’ll throw up his heart instead, so he nods, letting himself be pulled in by the hands he trusts almost more than his own and slots his lips against the ones he’s been dreaming about since he first learned about kissing.

It’s as soft as he thought it would be and Kiyoomi sighs into it like he’s been wanting it just as bad and as Atsumu’s brain reboots and he slides his hand into the curls he’s been thinking about touching for years, he can’t help but think that this is it . This is what he’s been waiting for, the moment that all the movies and books talk about. He hears Kiyoomi drop the plant on the ground and feels the way the free hand fits itself perfectly at the small of his back and he can’t help but clutch him back, kissing him with all the passion he’s been bottling up. He tries to tell Kiyoomi how much he’s wanted this with a kiss, and it seems that the spiker is doing the same back.

Kiyoomi pulls back first, laughing as he rests his forehead against Atsumu’s letting his hands cradle Atsumu’s face, his thumbs rubbing over his cheekbones.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that,” Kiyoomi breathes into the space between them, and Atsumu wants to swoon, wants to pop his foot like those silly moves he’s been fawning over because he’s got everything he’s needed right here.

“I think I do,” Atsumu says back, laughing too, a bit wet, but he ignores it. His chest feels so full he thinks he might burst and when Kiyoomi pulls him in for a hug and tucks his head into the nook of Atsumu’s neck, despite being slightly taller than him, Atsumu thinks that it did, that he died and went to heaven or something because oh my god it’s happening.

“ Can you pinch me,” Atsumu says and Kiyoomi laughs, his full body shaking in Atsumu’s arms and oh god. He loves him. He loves him!

Kiyoomi turns his face and sinks his teeth into Atsumu’s neck and he yelps, pulling back and the spiker giggles. Actually giggles .

“See? Not a dream.”

Atsumu stares at him in disbelief. Because Sakusa Kiyoomi just kissed him, because Sakusa Kiyoomi just bit him. Because Sakusa Kiyoomi is a giggling cuddle monster who is going to kill Atsumu.

Atsumu finds himself at a loss of words so he pulls him in instead, kissing his Kiyoomi with all the tender affection he can muster, Kiyoomi holding onto his wrists and running his thumbs against his thundering pulse.

***

They return to the party eventually, cheers and applause greeting them. Money is passed around, along with congratulatory remarks and Osamu and Komori making a big deal about how annoying the pining was. Hinata beams at Atsumu and tells him that his plan worked the whole time.

Kiyoomi pins back up the mistletoe and grabs his now-boyfriend to give him a big, flourished kiss, ignoring the catcalls and whistles from the crowd. Atsumu laughs against his boyfriend’s mouth, and Kiyoomi knows that this one. This is his favorite laugh of his.

“Merry Christmas, Atsumu,” he says.

“Merry Christmas, Kiyoomi.”