#miyacest Osamu letting Atsumu help him lock up the restaurant, exchanging fleeting touches each time they scoot by the other Atsumu's fingers gently tug at Osamu's compression sleeves, and Osamu's fingers dance up Atsumu's spine It's a familiar, warm dance they've had all their lives

It's so familiar that it's mindless, habitual, bone-deep, easier than breathing It's a simple joy and neither notice the heat building in their bellies until it's too late to stop themselves It ends with Osamu bending Atsumu over his counter after they shut the blinds, hand over that bratty mouth