atsumu was the perfect weapon in the arsenal against your utterly shitty ex. "i don't get what's so good about him," your ex had whined countless times, or the ever-charming, "don't you think i'm way better?" uh, yeah. absolutely not. atsumu, with his infuriating charm and undeniable appeal, was precisely the kind of guy to ignite a raging inferno of jealousy. and for him? well, he hadn't needed much convincing. you were pretty, smart, and undeniably badass – his words, not yours – and he'd jumped into the fake dating scheme with an enthusiastic "hell yeah!"

the initial charade was surprisingly enjoyable. your constant reminders for over-the-top public displays of affection were like a dream come true for him, who certainly wasn't complaining. days melted into weeks, and weeks blurred into months. the playful glint in your eyes began to soften, replaced by something deeper, something real. it hit you with the force of a rogue volleyball: you actually fell for this ridiculously charming guy. and atsumu? he'd tumbled headfirst somewhere around day two.

"the food was good, right?" he grinned, that goofy, endearing smile that always managed to make your heart flutter somewhat. you were both sitting on his bed, the comfortable silence a stark contrast to the lively dinner you'd just shared with his family.

you nodded, a small smile mirroring his. the remnants of conversation seemed to evaporate as your gazes locked. the intensity of his stare sent a blush creeping up your neck.

you could feel the magnetic pull, the undeniable urge to close the small space between you. atsumu's eyes flickered down to your lips, a silent invitation. it took a beat, maybe two, for him to start leaning in, the anticipation building with each infinitesimal movement. your breaths mingled, the moment suspended in time, just before your lips were about to meet—

"hey, ma just said to come down— oh." osamu's voice, usually a calm drawl, trailed off into a quiet chew as he froze in the doorway. his eyes darted between you and atsumu, who had suddenly developed a keen interest in the texture of his bedsheets. a slow, knowing smirk spread across his face. "uh, ya can finish whatever yer doin' first." he then retreated as silently as he’d appeared, leaving you in the charged aftermath of a near-kiss and the undeniable weight of unspoken feelings.