#hq prompts

sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader fluff

 cw: the reader has a little sibling, i hope nobody minds, there’s one line of very slightly implied nsfw, you won’t even notice

meant for kiyoomi’s birthday! happy b-day to my favorite boy <3 

one of the first things you’ve learnt about your boyfriend, even before your relationship started, is that he rarely shared personal information with anyone. he’d go as far as put up a fake birthday on his social media to avoid the awkward wishes and tons of yet another gifts from fans he so didn’t like going through. apart from that, there was a lot of weird things going on with birthdays, in his opinion: for instance people automatically thinking about zodiac sign or assuming other things, insisting to have a party, (a surprise one was his biggest nightmare) and a whole lot of other stuff he found appalling.

so it was just simply easier to say his birthday is “mid november” and get on with his life as if he didn’t just straight up lie. and truth be told, many times had you heard that “oh, in summer” or “right before christmas” before you got to know the truth. it wasn’t that easy on its own, but ever since his first little white lie, you knew he wasn’t true with you, and kept insisting, until he finally pulled you to the side and told you his real date of birth, the one only komori, atsumu, and, as he used to say, “unfortunately” his family knew.

march 20th was the date, and since you wanted to tease him, a grin appeared on your face before you mumbled “so a pisces, huh?” and earned a glare so cold and deadly, you visibly shivered before apologizing.

the next thing you learned about him and his birthday, was that he was picky about gifts. which went well with that “i’m an old fashioned gentleman” facade, because he could just say “oh, you don’t have to buy me anything. your company will be enough” with a slight smile he’d practice for years, and people thought he was just being humble and polite. spoiler alert: he wasn’t. he just didn’t want to deal with his own pickiness, and explaining to people what precisely would he like to get was too much trouble, and took away the magic of it even for someone as blunt as kiyoomi sakusa.

it’s not like birthdays were such a big deal for him, anyway, he didn’t need any gifts or parties to celebrate the fact that he just got one year older. what was so fun about that? but like the pain in the arse you were, you kept asking him what he wanted for the occassion way before he asked you out, and he hated it, but not more than he hated the way his heart jumped at the possibility of getting something you spent your time on. 

the first year of your friendship, you got to know the basic thing: omi doesn’t like gifts. gifts make him uncomfortable, he didn’t know what to say, how to act, what to do with it… does he open it right then and there, or wait, but why would he immediately thank someone if he doesn’t even open it? schroedinger’s cat: if he doesn’t open it, it might as well be thin air inside the box.

it was confusing, and weird. you also learnt that it was all caused by the fact that no one was in the house to celebrate young omi’s birthday back in his childhood days, since his parents were working and his siblings long away in college, so he just assumed it was a holiday to be overlooked and not dwelled too much on, and got so used to it, that now it bothered him to be in the center of attention for once. 

the third thing you learnt that year: it was almost impossible to find him a good enough gift, at least from your perspective. you spent literal hours at the store, looking at the different things he might’ve wanted, but nothing caught your eye. you called all his friends, yet he hadn’t mentioned the thing he’d like to anyone, not even komori. so you decided you’d go with instinct and remembered one cold morning when he showed up to practice grumpier than usual, and when he was asked what’s wrong, he answered:

“i woke up late and didn’t have time to make coffee”, half mumbling, half actually speaking, eyes too tired to be annoyed, legs slowly sweeping one before another as if he was forced to come here. And that’s where you got your idea. 

His first birthday with you, being his 21st, had started terribly, because it was wishes from his family. He’d told you multiple times he’d rather have them forget that send those copied off the internet lines that mean less than a “go fuck yourself” 

later on atsumu insisted or telling everyone and it took poor omi more than twenty minutes to convince him not to, and as both the setter and the spiker weren’t in their top moods nor form, MSBY lost a match they had that day. so all he wanted to do march 20th 2017 when he came home was to lay flat on his couch and play with his dog’s fur while watching a crappy TV show. he most definitely didn’t expect you sitting in front of his apartment’s door, tired, almost asleep. 

he sighed, approching you and slightly nudging your foot with his, making you shake your head and look up. 

“you’re back!” you said with a smile, and he raised an eyebrow. 

“and you look like a homeless person” he responded upsentmindedly, avoiding you to reach the door lock. only after you got up did he see a small package you held behind your back. “it’s not a right day to be celebrating me, y/n” he added, opening his apartment’s door and letting you in with a hand gesture. you went inside, not for the first time ever, but every time the feeling was the same, intimidating and cold. 

“why do you think that?” you said, taking off your shoes and putting them on a rack, and turning around to see him navigate you to the bathroom. you placed your bag and the gift on the floor before following his steps. 

“didn’t you see the match? i fucked up big time” he chuckled ironically, looking at himself in the mirror, and you could witness the disappointment and anger in his eyes. 

“so every time you guys win and you get the credit, you say that volleyball is a team sport, but if you loose, suddenly it’s your fault?” you smirked, but to your surprise he nodded. 

“precisely”. 

“well, regardless, it’s a minor set back. you’re still the best they make” you tried to cheer him up, but only received an eye roll in return. “aaaand, you’re a birthday boy today!”

“don’t remind me” he sighed, walking over to the kitchen to see what he can make for dinner for himself and his uninvited guest, meanwhile you grabbed your gift and walked up right behind him, tapping his shoulder lightly. 

“happy 21″ you whispered, a slight, soft smile on your lips, as you handed him the package. he looked at you with a tired look in his eyes. 

“you know i’m not the biggest fan of gifts” 

“just open it, grumpy face” you whined, and he gently took it from you, placing it on the counter and carefully unwraping it, to see a thermal mug. he sent you a questioning look, before you explained “you were complaining about not having enough time to drink coffee before leaving, right? well now you don’t have to drink it before leaving” 

there was silence for a long while before he looked up from the mug and gave you the softest smile you’ve ever seen. “that’s so thoughtful of you” he said, and laughed a tiny bit, probably to cover his emotion, which obviously didn’t work “thank you.”

omi likes thoughtful gestures. 

over the second year of your friendship, as he and his career gained more recognition from the public, he was “forced”, as he’d reffer to it, to share such a personal information that is his birthday date. the managers always claimed that it’s not a big deal, that it’s just gonna be added to the oficial page and his wikipedia, but judging from the amount of gifts atsumu, bokuto and hinata always received, he had his reason to doubt that. 

and as it turned out, he was right. 

because starting from march 10th, his personal mailbox as well as the oficial MSBY’s mailbox has been FLOODED with different things that he really had no energy to go over. and so, he invited one of his best friends to help. 

so it was late at night on march 19th, and you were both sitting on the floor of his apartment, a mess of ripped wrapping paper all around you, loads of different stuff laying on the table, as you still had a lot of things to open. 

“what even is the point in sending presents to someone you’ve never met? i mean less to them than their neigbour’s dog and yet i’m the one getting gifts? this is messed up” he kept on complaining, opening another package. 

“it’s called being famous, sakusa-kun. you mean very much to people you’ve never met, because your journey to where you are now inspires them to keep going on their path until they reach their dreams” you said with a smile, confident it’ll ease his worries, but it didn’t. 

“don’t know if i consider being in the Jackals my dream, though”

“you mean, you don’t think being a key player in a division one team is not a dream come true?” you asked, shocked. 

“no, no, of course i think it is, i’d never thought i’d reach this far, but, there’s more things to be done, it’s not like i’m an accomplished person just yet” 

that, you found interesting. 

“really? than what are your dreams, sakusa?” you asked in a low voice, eyes fixed on his face, as he focused on reading a letter in his hands. 

“national team” he murmured “MVP, a golden medal, a legacy that goes beyond just me” he opened up as if it was nothing, as if he was talking about his grocery list “but that all wouldn’t mean a thing if i were there alone, though. i’ve received plenty awards and mvp’s over the few years that i played, but i guess what would really matter, and make everything else worth remembering, would be… having someone be proud of me, i guess”

you felt your heart getting soft and fuzzy at the confession, wanting to respond, before he handed you the note he was silently reading. 

“this is a poem, y/n, a POEM! what the hell, i don’t even understand what’s going on there” he whined, throwing his head back to rest on the couch seat, as you giggled, reading the note. 

“it’s nice” you said in a high-pitched tone, pushing down a laugh. 

“it’s too… sophisticated” he uttered, looking at you, a tired look in his eyes. “that’s my mother’s thing, to be sophisticated, i like simpler wishes, they’re easier to believe” 

omi doesn’t like fancy words.

you nodded, but before you could say anything, your phone rang, and both of you looked at the screen. the hour on display marked midnight, and as the alarm ranged, the words “omi’s b-day!!!” appeared on the screen. he smiled subconsciously, noticing how you always address him as “sakusa” or “sakusa-kun” but the notif in your phone stated “omi”. 

“looks like it’s the 20th already, birthday boy” you grinned, turning off the alarm. 

“don’t call me that, what am i, six or something?” 

you decided to ignore the comment, and smiled at him warmly before speaking, almost under your own breath:

“happy 22, sakusa. i wish you only to be here to hear me say happy 23 next year. and say so with pride.”

his eyes appeared foggy and glossy, but it was probably fault of poor lighting and tiredness. 

“why stop at 23?” he asked, before standing up, and offering you his hand to pick you up, too. 

omi likes very real wishes. 

over the third year of your friendship you became very close. ever since that night on his living room floor, both of you couldn’t wrap your minds about anything other than each other. neither of you oblivious idiots found out what it was about, but day after day and month after month it was harder and harder to spend time apart. 

before he could notice, sakusa always tried to find you in the crowd before serving, and that’s how he always used up most of his time. once, he even heard ushijima complain “how much longer are you going to take? be a man and beat me without your good luck charm!” 

his good luck charm, huh?

you kinda liked the sound of that. 

you also found yourself texting him every random thought that came to your head, sending pictures of everything, becasue you wanted to share as much of your life as possible, meeting up whenever you could and facetiming whenever you couldn’t. 

it all started to go downhill when atsumu, bokuto and hinata started noticing. noticing the way he’d smile at his phone, the way he’d wink, smile, tease, joke, speak, even the way his eyes wondered when left unfocused, and a dreamy look covered his vision. 

and they started to tease, and joke, and make his life all more difficult, just because “omi has a crush!”

because he didn’t. right? he didn’t have a crush on you, for sure, and it only annoyed him, how childish they were about it, how insufferable. they got on his nerves so bad that he stopped responding to all the messages, stopped smiling, joking around, and all, just to prove his point, 

his point he knew was no longer standing. 

and so atsumu would ask, after one of their practices, “hey omi, is your lucky charm picking you up? some birthday dinner, maybe?” he’d nudge his side with an elbow, raising his eyebrows. 

“i don’t know” he mumbled “and stop calling them that”. the brunette kept looking for something in his bag, just to avoid atsumu’s tiring, curious glance. 

“fine then, how about your significant other?” he continued teasing. it’s not like sakusa would hate that scenario, of course he wouldn’t, yet his mind kept spiraling - what if you came in and heard that? what if you assumed he was calling you that behind your back?

what if you didn’t feel the same?

“stop butting in my relationships for once, miya! how many times am i supposed to tell you i’m not in any way romantically involved with them? i don’t even like them that much!” he lied, straight in his best friend’s face, fed up with all the jokes and smirks behind his back, and judging from atsumu’s shocked expression, and the color running away from his face, it worked. 

“what, don’t you have anything to say to me now?” he kept going, before atsumu shook his head, and pointed behind kiyoomi’s back wordlessly. the spiker raised an eyebrow, turning around to see you, in the flash, eyes wide open, a tiny little package in your hands, wrapped so neatly in colorful paper, with a little bow tie at the top. 

even from a distance he could already half see, half imagine tears prickling your eyes before you smiled sadly, dropped the box from your hand and let it fall to the floor, and began walking out of the gym room. 

“no, no no, y/n, wait!” he started shouting out, but your ears seemed deaf to his pleas, as he ran up to the door you just walked through, leaving atsumu alone, but with a condescending smile. 

“i don’t like them that much my ass, omi-kun” he whispered to himself before walking over to grab his things. 

meanwhile sakusa ran out to the reception room of the stadium, but as it turned out, it was filled with fans waiting for them all to come out, so they could wish him happy birthday, and it seemed impossible to get through the crowd and reached you, especially considering you were already at the exit door. 

he looked around himself and noticed all the people, how many of them were there, and how close to him, and got paralyzed in place, wanting to move, or disappear, that’d be for the best, and yet he couldn’t even move one foot. 

soon enough he felt a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back inside, his savior apologizing to the public.

“sorry guys, we have one more thing to go through! he’ll be out shortly” atsumu laughed off, before closing the door and handing omi the gift you left. 

the spiker mindlessly opened it, only to find out a spotify code inside, put in between a glass frame. he took out his phone from the bag and scanned it with his app, gasping audiably when the page loaded. 

lay back in the arms of someone by smokie showed up on his screen, and a smile crawled up his lips before he remembered how badly he fucked this up a second ago. 

he narrowed his eyebrows before looking up to find the blond setter’s eyes. 

“atsumu” his friend’s eyes widened in surprise upon hearing his first name, instead of surname “is there a back exit from here?” 

atsumu miya smirked. 

“bet ya there is, mr i-fucked-up-big-time” he answered, theatrically offering his hand, before taking the lead. 

you on the other hand, came home peacefully, although hot tears were streaming silently down your cold cheeks as you entered the apartment’s door and looked at the calendar, showing the date of march 20th. in a sudden wave of aggression you ripped it off, knowing that there’s nothing to be so pressed about: he had no duty of feeling the same way towards you, why would you even expect it?

you went on with your day, ordering takeout for dinner, snuggling up on your couch and rewatching a series, not granting your thoughts access to yourself, and it was really going well, until you heard the doorbell ring. 

“nobody’s home” you yelled, assuming it was either atsumu or bokuto on their way to cheer you up, and they’ll probably let themselves in as soon as they hear your voice, but that didn’t happen. instead, the doorbell kept on ringing. “ugh, just come in!” 

they didn’t come in, so you lifted yourself off the couch and walked over to the door, opening it and gasping a tiny bit when instead of your dumbass friends holding McDonald’s you saw a one hundred and ninety two centimeters tall figure of a man, struggling to catch his breath, leaning on your doorframe, his black coat unbuttoned, cheeks red, eyes puffy and hair in a mess, not even gelled into place as they always are. 

“can i help you?” you asked in a cold manner, voice sending daggers into his poor, confused heart, as he finally looked up to meet your glance, an apologetic look in his eyes when he tried to form a sentence. 

“i think i can… no, way, i think i might…” he kept struggling, to which you only rolled your eyes, waiting for the continuation of that sentence. 

“spit it out, sakusa” you stated, sending shivers down his spine with how annoyed you seemed. 

yeah, spit it out, sakusa, he thought to himself before taking a breath and finally speaking up correctly:

“i think i might be in love with you.” 

your eyes widened for a second as you tried to find evidence of honesty in his expression, tone, voice, because you definitely didn’t believe his words. 

his heart dropped when you scoffed. 

“i don’t need your pity” 

that’s when it hit him:

omi doesn’t like to spend his birthday without you. you make it not only bearable, but fun. 

in fact, he never wanted to spend it without you again. and as that realization made it’s way into his brain, he caught you closing your door. 

“i respect you too much to pity you” he spat out as he placed his hand in between the door and the frame, making you unable to close it, even if you wanted to. 

and there was the honesty you looked for. 

“then why—” you started to wonder, but he shook his head before interrupting, a helpless look across his face.

to lay back in the arms of someone

“i’m afraid of… of this, okay? i’m afraid of falling in love, if this is any explanation for you. it’s like… you make me feel as if i’m on the top of the world” he laughed nervously, making you raise your eyebrows, before continuing “and it’s fucking scary to imagine falling from that high” 

you give in to the charms of someone

his glance wondered all over your face to find crumbs of understanding, scared you’d laugh his confession off, a grimace of worry replacing the insecure smile painting his lips, and he was just one step away from shouting “i’m telling the truth!” at you, but you cut him off by opening your door fully, and welcoming him inside with a warm smile on your lips, and a reassuring sentence on your tongue.

happy 23rd, kiyoomi

“i think i might love you back”

omi likes feeling loved. 

the next year flew by on both of you pushing each other’s limits, challenging each other like the both of you always needed, being there for each other, finding out how nice it feels to have someone there. it was coming home with a sore throat after a night of yelling “one more point, omi-omi!”. it was carefully intertwining your pinkies together while shopping without even realizing. it was awkward dates, because the label “date” always changes the atmosphere. it was taking weird selfies, it was having to part for out-of-town games and facetiming from hotel rooms. it was butterflies in the stomach and a ball of fluff in mind. 

it was everything. 

the first year of your official relationship flew by in no time, kiyoomi finding new joy in his birthday since now it was really a day to be remembered, marking your anniversary. 

and just as you got home to his apartment after dinner, ready to unpack all the fanmail once again, the janitor of the building stopped you. 

“sakusa-san, there was a flower delievery for you” he sighed, going towards a locked shelf and coming back with a bouquet, at which kiyoomi stared for a whole five seconds before you decided to take it. 

“thank you for taking care of it” he muttered with a slight bow, you pushing him to go up the stairs. “who’s it from?” he’d ask you a minute later, halfway through the staircase. 

“don’t you wanna check yourself?” you asked, but he frantically shook his head. 

“check it for me, please”

omi doesn’t like flowers.

you nodded wordlessly before checking a card. 

“well if i’m not mistaken this is your surname” you furrowed, struggling to read the handwriting. in your defense, the kanji for “sakusa” are quite complicated. 

he looked over at the text before admitting “yeah, that’s from my aunt, she insists on sending those ever since i got into MSBY” he finally got to his door to unlock it “kinda sad how she didn’t even bother writing a text before” he chuckled, making you want to throw the flowers away. 

you knew he considered them worthless if that’s the story behind the nice gesture. 

the apartment door remained opened, but he didn’t enter, you almost stumbled over him, focusing on the note, and glanced over to see what caught him attention and prevented him from going inside. 

“this is your surname, for a change” he stated, showing you a buffy envelope over his shoulder, but didn’t let you take it when you tried. instead he opened it himself, a neatly wrapped package inside, with a note at the top:

i wore glowes making it! i swear!

there was a typo in gloves, and the writing style could use a little work on it, but that didn’t affect kiyoomi at all, as he was hypnotized with his package after noticing your surname on it. he carefully opened it, to find a keychain, made from cubes, as the ones used in different boardgames, on every one there was a letter or a number, together forming the writing “kiyoomi 15″ with a heart at the end. it was all on a black string, and almost shined with how many times it was wiped before sending. after holding it in his hand for a while, he noticed another card at the bottom of the package, taking it out and reading out loud:

“please take care of my sibling. happy 24th!” he uttered in sheer amazement, as he grazed his fingers over the delicate ornament, before wordlessly going inside the apartment. 

you followed him, closing the door behind you, worried about his reaction about your little sibling’s present, only to find him crouching before his couch, his training bag laying there as he tried to attach the keychain to the it’s zipper, smiling when he managed to do so. 

before he got to turn around to face you, you managed to take a photo of him smiling at the newest addition to his training gear, and send it to your family with a caption:

omi likes personalized stuff. 

over all the years of knowing kiyoomi, you’ve learnt so much about him, his life, his habits, everything. you knew him inside and out, and so he knew you. you’re laughing at your confusion and fear while you were buying his first birthday gift, as you sit on the floor in your shared apartment, plotting his 25th, biggest yet gift, as if he isn’t about to walk through the door, coming back from practice. 

it’s almost ridiculous, how you struggled, wondering if he’d even like a gift, when right now you have a whole list in mind:

although omi doesn’t like gifts, he likes little thougtful gestures. he doesn’t like fancy big words, but likes real, honest wishes he can really take to heart. he doesn’t like spending his birthday without you, he likes feeling love, doesn’t like flowers, but does like his gifts personalized and touching. 

you realize all the moments in your relationship made you know his every emotion and expression, but you’ve never seen your precious boyfriend cry, ever. 

and you decide to change that. 

you’re gonna make him something that’s gonna mask all the memories of his birthday being forgotten, walked pass by, pushed into the back, and not properly celebrated. that’s gonna outshine every single gift he’s ever got. that’s gonna make him so happy, he’ll cry.

an idea pops into your head as you get a pen and start writing. 

dear kiyoomi,

_______

“dear kiyoomi” you get to hear him say a couple of nights later, he reads it out on your plea, with a smile across his lips, as you, atsumu, bokuto, meian and hinata, as well as omi’s older siblings and komori and osamu sit at the table, a cake and two traces of his favorite cupcakes are taking all the space possible.

omi’s voice is colored with a couple of glasses of wine, so it’s easier to him to relax and genuinely grin at the paper as he’s reading, all part of your plan. 

“when i first met you, the first thing i found out is that you’re a private person. not that i was freaked out or anything, but you did have, and probably you still do, a heavy aura around you that may have flustered me a tiny little— a tiny little bit? smiles, your hands literally shivered” he stopped to comment, making you roll your eyes at him.

“zip it and keep reading, birthday boy”

“… a tiny little bit, i agree. nevertheless, the first thing i actually felt, was that you striked my soul as someone weird. thanks, baby” he interrupted again, but you urged him to keep reading. “… weird in a way that made me feel like i’ve never felt before, the kind of safe and terrified at the same time. terrified of what, you might ask? well, kiyoomi, here i’d like to quote you. you once told me that me loving you is like i had the power to break you, and you loving me back was like giving me a map with all the points to strike at. well if that’s the definition of love we’re going for here, than i not only give you a map, i’ll grant you a whole GPS. the trust you put in me every day to not take advantage of what you’ve given me is inspiring, and hence, i surrender every single point of ressistance i’ve held against you, i’m yours to snap at a wish, and trusting you that you won’t do it is something i can spend my life believing in.” 

at this point kiyoomi had to stop and take a deep breath and a sip of his wine before continuing, clearing his throat a bit, chocking back his emotion. 

“… throughout my years by your side, i’ve memorized everything there is to memorize about you and gifts. you generally aren’t a fan, but you like them carrying a lot of thought, dedication, you like them meant exactly to you and to you only. you don’t want pointless blabbing and overused sentences, you enjoy sincerity. you need love radiating from them in order to truly acknowledge them as something special. now, the last thing i know is that you don’t like flowers, but i hope you won’t be too angry with me and with what i’ve prepared for you. enjoy, signed, your smiles” he finished, looking up at you, already moving towards the counter, grabbing a bouquet from behind it. 

he watched in amazement as you handed it to him, taking it in his hands, realizing that- 

it was a bouquet of origami flowers. 

“please, y/n, this is so—” he tried to find the right words, but once again, nothing came to mind as he watched your careful work from every side possible. 

“shh, there’s a special thing to them” you explained, sitting back in your seat, exactly in a straight line from him, watching every single change in his expression as he tried to find what you meant. 

he realized every flower had a little card sticking out from it’s center, and pulled the first one, the closest one to him. 

“the first reason i love you” he read in a weak voice, chuckling nervously again before he found the courage to read it out loud “you make me feel protected” 

he looked up at you with such a gentle and caring note in his eyes that you almost didn’t want to encourage him to keep reading it, but you did. 

“two. you don’t smile too much” after that he raised an eyebrow, but read the next one “three. …but when you do, you outshine the sun itself. four. you memorized my coffee order within the first two times we’ve been to a caffee. five. you got supplies to redo my coffee order without going to the— hey i swear i didn’t mean anything bad by it!” 

“that’s literally the reason they love you for, idiot” atsumu laughed, urgining him to keep reading with a hand gesture. “come on, this is adorable”

“six. you have a playlist with songs that remind you of me. yes, i know this, omi, we share a spotify account. seven. you claim you don’t like interacting with people, but let a little girl propose to you with a cereal ring in the park.”

“this is too cute, omi is a softie” bokuto whined, hiding his face in his hands, but sakusa only slapped them off. 

“am not. eight. you keep a mental score of all the times you won over ushijima. nine. you take way too much pride in beating atsumu in service aces”

“true that!” atsumu shouted, hiding behind his glass. 

“ten” sakusa shook his head. “you don’t enjoy PDA, yet gave me the kiss of the century when i met your mother, just to annoy her. eleven. your childhood photos are too cute. twelve. you blasted hopelessly devoted to you the morning after we— i’m not reading that, idiot!” he half laughed half whined, in a high-pitched voice. 

“omi-san knows how it’s done, apparently” hinata wheezed, komori accompanying him. 

“did i ask?” he rolled his eyes and went back to picking lines from the flowers. “thirteen, you tug the corner of my sleeves when you’re stressed in public. fourteen, you have me saved in your phone as your good luck charm. fifteen. you put my head on your chest when i can’t sleep at night, to calm me down. sixteen. you make me laugh when i’m sad. seventeen. you almost never intent to make me laugh, yet always do. eighteen. you always make sure i’m carrying all the emergency items all me at all times. nineteen. you make me call you when i get home from a party, if you aren’t there to pick me up. twenty, you always insist on picking me up from wherever i am, because you’re worried about me. i mean yeah, what kind of a boyfriend would i be if i weren’t?” he genuinely asked, half of the guest shaking their heads. 

“come on, five more to go, you adorable, clueless idiot” motoya pat his back and looked over his shoulder to see your careful handwriting, before sakusa hid the message from him. 

“twenty one. you make me not worry about my future. twenty two, you try to do all your little morning rituals in advance when you leave, so i don’t miss you too much. i still do. twenty three, you’re never afraid to be bluntly honest with me. twenty four, you always ask if you can hug me when i’m low or crying. and twenty five—” he stopped more suddenly than anywhere before, eyes visibly watering before he dropped his head down and his it in his arms. 

“what’s on there?” several guys asked over themselves, as omi kept laughing slightly, hiding tears in the sleeves of his fitted shirt. 

“you’re gonna be the death of me” he murmured into the material, making everyone laugh, including you, who decided to walk over to him and hug him, resting your head on his, taking advantage of the fact that he was sitting and you could reach it. 

after a moment of weakness, he showed his red and slightly puffy face, two trails of tears fitting his smiling expression as he struggled to say 

“twenty five. you make me prouder and prouder every day.” he kept laughing through his tears, really trying to hide his emotion and failing miserably. “you really did try to make me cry on my birthday, didn’t you?” he looked up to you still embracing him. 

“i suppose i did”

“well then, i’m gonna outshine you” he said, shifting in his seat in order to get up, wiping the last remains of tears from his face. 

“what do you mean?” you asked, met with his confident smirk. 

“you’re gonna see in a bit, trust me” he huffed, dusting off his pants’ material on the knee level, and reaching over to his pocket, in his hand a tiny, little box. 

with a little more than an origami flower. 

okay but y’all ever imagine 2021 Olympics and Hinata dragging his teammates somewhere because “you need to meet Oikawa-san!” and after they do indeed meet Oikawa, he refers to Sakusa as to “Omi-chan!”. After several seconds of silence he just shakes his head and whispers “fuck now I need to apologize to Miya”