Thread by @sakusauds, au where kiyoomi is a famous musician and atsumu is a really [...]

au where kiyoomi is a famous musician and atsumu is a really big fan. at one of kiyoomi’s shows, he does that thing where he puts the mic in front of an eager fan at the barricade and lets them sing the next lyrics. the fan is atsumu.

kiyoomi is stunned. atsumu sounds beautiful.

no, but honestly, he’s shocked—usually it’s just a regular person, someone who is not trained to sing, bellowing the next lyrics horribly off-key and completely muddling every next word, but it’s all a good laugh for everyone involved. a funny memory.

but THIS guy—well.

kiyoomi is completely taken by how soft and low his voice is, how steady he keeps it as he hits every note and nails every lyric. it’s like he’s practiced every single day for this very moment. his eyes are closed and he’s so damn focused on doing this right.

kiyoomi knows the crowd around them is cheering like crazy, but it’s all incoherent—all he can hear is what’s in front of him. what’s more is, he can’t stop staring at him, can’t peel his eyes away from the sight before him. kiyoomi never thought /sweat/ could be attractive.

but hey, this guy stands with his face flushed red, blond bangs swept to the side (they STILL look soft, despite it all) and a glow radiating off him—but kiyoomi thinks it’s probably a sheen from perspiration. he can’t find it in him to feel disgusted.

what’s WRONG with him? why is he so enamoured by what’s in front of him? this has never happened before, especially not at a show. his job right now is to perform to the best of him ability, make sure he impresses a crowd of a couple thousand & satisfy himself and everyone else.

kiyoomi thinks he might not be satisfied if he leaves at the end of tonight without getting an inkling of a feel of what this guy’s all about.

he’s zoned out at the angelic lilt of this guy’s voice, clearly, because soon the crowd begins to roar around them as he finishes up on the final lyric and opens his eyes. staring right into kiyoomi’s.

his eyes are /golden/. shimmering pools of light.

kiyoomi wants to see more.

he breaks his own reverie (because he’s staring, quite blankly, despite the rolling waves of emotion and feeling within him) to pull the mic back towards himself and thank him. the guy won’t look away.

“hey,” kiyoomi breathes into the mic once it’s brought back towards him. he inhales deeply, as if he could breathe in everything this guy breathed out into the mic. all the secrets to how someone could be so.....near perfect. “what’s your name?”

the man’s eyes widen, and he’s heaving with breath—maybe out of adrenaline, exhilaration....or maybe he’s just nervous. but why would he be nervous? why does KIYOOMI feel nervous?

“uh, I-I’m atsumu.” he stutters, yet holds strong on the eye contact. “miya atsumu.”

“thank you, miya atsumu. that was a, to put it simply,” kiyoomi begins, pushing up on slightly trembling legs from squatting so awkwardly for so long. he barely even noticed they were under strain. he was so focused on the.....the.... “captivating show of talent.”

somehow, atsumu’s face darkens into a cherry red, and his eyes remain wide. the shimmer never dies down. miya atsumu is gorgeous.

so gorgeous, that kiyoomi can’t resist the grin he throws his way. he turns before he can see atsumu react, but the crowd goes wild.

kiyoomi grinning so openly and full of emotion at a fan is not the most common sight. this miya atsumu.....well, he might be the first.

and possibly the last, if kiyoomi can do anything about it.

“hey,” he utters, urging a band member to come forth. “tell someone from security to get miya atsumu here after the show. the one who just sung.”

“really?” they seems surprised. kiyoomi can’t blame them. this is a one in a million circumstance. “what should I say as to why?”

kiyoomi looks back behind him, towards where atsumu stood—he’s laughing into his hands, resting over his face, whilst his friends pat him on the back and laugh. he’s got no doubt about this. he wants to know more about him.

“just tell them...that I want to hear what else can come of his voice. I want to hear him again. as much as I can.”

atsumu is brought backstage.

well, initially, he's just standing awkwardly in the little room, presumably something akin to sakusa's dressing room. he feels quite out of place. a little bit like he's dreaming. this can't be /real/.

the buff security guard said nothing when escorting him—atsumu knew sakusa was just finishing up on his last song of the set, and ending the night with a short and sweet encore.

everything felt louder, clearer—the bass was drumming in his chest, a low thrum in his pulse.

before he knew it, a dishevelled, sweaty sakusa kiyoomi was ambling towards him. it was really him. in the flesh.

there was something about seeing him in real life that made him seem so much....different. he was used to seeing him made up of coloured pixels on screens,

as high-definition photographs on advertisements and on posters that promoted his tours. atsumu will admit, he had a bit of idol worship happening—sakusa always seemed larger than life, untouchable, unreal. he saw him as a figure above him, despite their age.

but now, sakusa stood in front of him. still catching his breath from performing a lengthy show and trailing his eyes up and down atsumu's body. scanning him.

seeing sakusa in front of him, so /normal/ doing things he did and not being reduced to his status and fame was...

refreshing. it was nice. and yet, atsumu couldn't help clenching his fists until they cramped out of nervousness. sakusa was hot, everyone knew that. he was tall and handsome and had a slightly raspy, sultry voice that pulled men and women in alike. no one could resist him.

"hey," sakusa finally spoke. it was soft, low, and didn't sound like the voice atsumu was used to hearing in between songs, during interviews and in any sort of public footage of sakusa. it was so....normal. "you were good."

atsumu fidgets, and looks down to prevent himself from losing composure and blushing. he would definitely not be able to excuse the warmth of adrenaline and bodies packed around him. "uh, yeah, thanks! if you don't mind me asking, why am I here?"

"they didn't tell you?"

"nope. just said you wanted to see me."

sakusa clicked his tongue, running a hand through his locks. they were damp and curling in ringlets.

"to be honest, I don't really know why I did it either."

atsumu cocks a brow. he really thought he'd done something, good or bad—who knows really—to land himself the privilege of standing in this very room. he didn't think very many people got the opportunity.

"all I know, is that your voice is something I wanna hear again and again."

now THIS was new to atsumu.

before now, his habit of harmonising with the music blaring through his phone, speaker, headphones or whatever—it was always saved for those moments of peace and privacy. he knew he was decent, only because he spent years belting in the shower.

for atsumu, it was rare to be so, dare he say, VOCAL with his talent.

so, to hear the man he's been so awfully infatuated with (both in an inspirational sense and a....uh.....attraction sense) openly admit that he's a fan of atsumu's voice...it was new.

"o-oh?"

"mhmm. and, I must admit, if you don't mind me being bold," sakusa pulls his gaze up to atsumu. "you really have the looks to go along with the voice."

atsumu can't help the squeak that escapes his mouth at that—did sakusa just say he was /hot/?

"my my, well, if you want to hear and see me so often, omi-kun, then you just have to say the word!"

he sees a scowl on sakusa's face as he turns around to grab a water bottle from the low table beside them, presumably at the nickname.

he mumbles it after, confirming atsumu's suspicions. for some reason, atsumu considers the reaction a win.

"I mean, yeah, I suppose that's why you're back here. I want your contact information." sakusa clears his voice, cheeks lightly flushing.

"really? so what, you want my number? my email address? for what purposes, hmm?" atsumu drawls, cheek seeping into his tone. he can't believe he's being so forward, flirting with sakusa. he could be completely getting the wrong idea. but, he supposes it's worth a try. who knows!

"for....hm. for business purposes." sakusa says. atsumu keeps his gaze steadily on him and he turns back. he stares back into his eyes—eyes he always thought were a deep brown, almost black in photos. though closer, next to sakusa, he can see they're a deep green.

"and..." he continues, tearing his eyes away briefly. he looks /shy/. "for personal purposes, I suppose. but we'll see about that."

atsumu feels a warmth fill his chest. he still can't believe this is real. is he.....giving his number to sakusa.....in a date-y kinda way?

he's so giddy. he'll probably be seeing more of sakusa, then. it's like a dream come true.

"sure, kiyoomi. sounds absolutely fantastic."

atsumu writes his number on a piece of paper, with a pen that sakusa produces out of nowhere. sakusa gives him a note in return. with his /business/ email. atsumu snorts.

"just don't forget to contact me, yeah? wouldn't wanna be left hanging by someone so handsome and charming."

sakusa rolls his eyes, turns around, begins to walk away.

but he doesn't leave without calling out, "you know I wouldn't dream of it~" over his shoulder.

atsumu chuckles to himself as he's escorted out of the backstage area, back towards his friends—a blush high on his cheeks.

that night, he dreams of an alluring, deep voice, blending with his as they sing. in his dream, he stares into emerald eyes. they never stray away from him.

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