Chapter Text
Sakusa wants to bang his head on the wall.
Not only did his boyfriend get back to their apartment around two in the morning, it fucked with Sakusa’s sleep so much that he didn’t hear his alarm to wake him up for the gym. Then he was almost late for his morning class because he slept in too late. Now, he’s at practice having to listen to Bokuto and Hinata spout some random bullshit about some sushi place in town. And to top it all off, Miya Atsumu is sitting in the stands waiting to use their rink.
Logically, Sakusa knows he shouldn’t be annoyed at The Other Miya’s presence. He hasn’t bothered them in any way. He showed up and sat doing his work in the stands until about ten minutes ago when he went into the locker room to change. Since he came back out, he’s just been sitting with his eyes closed listening to his headphones. Sakusa knows there’s no real reason for him to be so upset.
This isn’t like the time Atsumu had sat there in the stands and mocked him for the entire last hour of his practice. Constantly throwing sly grins at Sakusa when he would glare at the skater. The raven saw the way the blonde seemed to laugh to himself every time he missed a shot. He was scrutinized by someone who doesn’t even play the damn sport. Atsumu probably couldn’t even score on an empty net.
So no, this wasn’t like that shit hour of his life.
But it’s a well known fact that an already annoyed Sakusa Kiyoomi plus one Miya Atsumu in the vicinity equals an extra irritable assistant captain.
They have 15 hours of practice left. Or 15 minutes. Whatever. To Sakusa, right now they feel the same. And to make matters worse, his boyfriend—whom he’s still upset with from this morning—looks all hot and sweaty and sexy over on the other side of the ice. Why does he have to be such a good captain? Talking to the coach about something and doing his job like the perfect senior he is. All while the rest of them work on shooting drills. It’s not his favorite way to end practice, but he supposes it’s better than doing skating drills. Ushijima is safe from his boyfriend’s wrath for the time being, but the same can’t be said for the scowl being aimed at him from Sakusa’s position across the ice.
“Sakusa!” Hinata skates over to his assistant captain, truly the only one brave enough to approach when he’s in such a state. His smile is so bright Sakusa’s worried he’ll go blind. “Bokuto and I were talking about that new sushi place-
“I know, I heard you.”
“-and we were wondering if you and Ushijima would like to come try it with us?”
Sakusa sighs, and his scowl dissolves.
He’s a good kid, really. Hinata is probably the one guy to exist that you can’t hate. His kindness is beyond belief and he wants nothing but the best for everyone. His competitive spirit can be a bit annoying and sometimes he gets loud and easily excited, but you can’t help but find it endearing. You almost can’t say no to him.
Almost .
“I appreciate the invite, Hinata,” Sakusa starts, sounding at least a little apologetic. But he’s called a “too-blunt jerk” for a reason, “but I’d rather try to eat my own skate before choosing to go out tonight.”
Hinata seems completely unfazed by this reaction. His smile never falters. “Okay!” He turns to yell to Bokuto across the ice. “He said no!” Sakusa winces at the sudden change of volume next to him. Bokuto yells back an acknowledgement as Hinata turns to face Sakusa once again. “Maybe another time then.”
Maybe another time. Sakusa isn’t sure if he’ll really stick to that himself. He’s not known for going out with his teammates after practice on his own free will. He gets dragged to parties by them and they’ll occasionally have team building events, but other than those, he doesn’t go out. Maybe a date with Ushijima every few weeks. Though, now that he thinks about it he doesn’t know when their last date was.
Now that he’s overthinking, he feels a little bad, but he doesn’t change his mind about not wanting to go anywhere tonight. Though he does, for once, consider the idea of next time. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Next time, Hinata.”
The 15 minutes finally pass and Sakusa wastes no time getting off the ice and stomping straight to the locker room. He can’t even be bothered to send his usual glare to Atsumu as he passes, yet his usual scowl has resurfaced and seems much deeper ingrained. Atsumu waits for the entire team to be in the locker room hallway before he approaches the hockey coaches.
“Coach Ukai and Coach Takeda!”
The two coaches turn and smile at the skater. “Miya! You doing alright?” The hockey coaches have always been much nicer to the figure skaters than their players have been.
Atsumu beams back at them, “Yeah, I’m doin’ pretty good. Ya guys officially done with practice for the day?”
Ukai nods at the blonde in front of him. “Indeed we are. Just gotta wait for the zamboni,” he points with his thumb over his shoulder, “and the ice is all yours.”
“Thanks!” Atsumu’s gaze follows the zamboni as the driver brings it onto the ice to start resurfacing. “Figured I could get a head start before our scheduled practice as long as ya guys were finished up.”
Takeda places a hand on the skater’s shoulder. “I admire your drive, kid. Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself, too.” The coach shares a proud smile, “Captains like you are hard to come by.”
A blush dusts Atsumu’s cheeks. He felt like he did an okay job leading his fellow skaters, but he often worried his own strive for greatness got in the way of his potential to be someone they can look up to. If you asked him, he could never be a fraction as great a captain as Kita was. He scratches the back of his neck, “Thank you, sir.”
The three continue to converse until Ukai watches the zamboni leave the ice and go back to its corral. “We’ll leave you to it, then.” They each give a small wave to each other as the coaches turn to leave. “Tell Coach Foster we say hello!” Takeda gives a final call over his shoulder.
“Will do!”
Atsumu’s first order of business is setting up the speaker to play his practice playlist. He’s a firm believer that the proper mindset leads into a beneficial training session. Music is his quickest fix for that. He’s cultivated a practice playlist for the team to listen to while they do their stretches, warmups, and drills. The playlist consists of mostly nostalgic pop songs and keeps away from anything that sounds too similar to any of the skaters’ program music. It keeps the energy high and surrounds the rink in good vibes before they have to lock in on their individual routines. Plus he gets to sing along to Brtiney Spears. It’s a win-win.
He never skimps on stretches. He already did a few while he was waiting for the rink, but he loosens them up again anyway, lest he pull a muscle and screw himself over. The pull in his hamstrings as he bends over to touch his toes is welcome, comforting, even. As he pulls his arm across his chest, he can feel the stress that’s been building from his assignments melt away with the stretch in his deltoids. Nothing like a good warm up to ease his mind and body.
On the ice, he starts with laps. Once the bite of the cold subsides and sweat prickles at the nape of his neck, he abandons his thin jacket to brace the cold in his t-shirt. It’s addicting: the way the cold envelops his exposed skin. In the same way stage lights stop blinding actors, the cold stops freezing Atsumu. The expanse of ice, 60 meters by 30, is his stage. So now that he’s amply warmed up, he skates wherever the music takes him.
When he can feel the music pumping through his bloodstream, he knows he can start doing some basic jumps. Nothing crazy. He’s not trying to get chastised by his coach or, godforbid, Oikawa.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Adorned in his own team jacket and pearly white smile, Oikawa enters the arena.
The hockey team begins to leave the locker room, dribbling out as time passes before the skating team starts showing up. Oikawa smiles at some of them in passing. Some of them smile back, most just ignore him. He sidles up to the edge of the rink. His voice has a playful tone to it that Atsumu is all too familiar with when he calls, “Attsun!”
Atsumu changes course on the ice to approach Oikawa. “What’s up?”
“Are you going to the studio after this?”
“Did ya hit yer head on yer way here?”
Oikawa levels him with a glare. Sakusa and Ushijima leave the locker room behind Oikawa. Atsumu pointedly does not look at them as they pass. “I’m asking because there’s another party tonight and-”
Atsumu rolls his eyes and begins to skate away. “Take Iwa this time.”
“But Atsuuu!” Oikawa’s whine echoes across the mostly empty rink.
“Tooru.” Atsumu stops and turns to face the man, hands firm on his hips. “I don’t wanna go. Try again in two weeks.”
Oikawa pouts, but concedes, “Fine. But don’t overwork yourself tonight.”
Atsumu swats a hand through the air. “I’m gonna study after studio tonight and tomorrow is my rest day.” He makes eye contact and his eyes soften. “Ya don’t need to worry about me.”
Oikawa smirks and pats his hand on the edge of the rink wall. He turns to walk towards the locker room. Over his shoulder, he says, “You and I both know you’re wasting your breath saying that.”
Atsumu knows he’s right. The two met when Atsumu switched to being a single skater, and because Atsumu’s coach specialized in pair skating, Atsumu was referred to Oikawa’s coach. Oikawa had always been a single skater himself, and with a personality similar to Atsumu’s, the coach made sure to introduce them. They hit it off immediately.
Oikawa had helped Atsumu navigate the struggles of transitioning to the single skating life. The former opened up about his own insecurities of never being good enough no matter how much hard work he put in. This struck a chord in Atsumu, and he soon confided in his friend about his insecurities of never being good solo.
There have been quite a few incidents along Atsumu’s figure skating journey, and Oikawa has been there for all of them except his breakup with Kennedy. No one knows the mental turmoil Atsumu has gone through except Oikawa. Not even Osamu has a clue.
No one knows that back when they were 18, Oikawa had to drag Atsumu off the ice.
Looking back, the day was beautiful. The wind bristling the leaves of passing foliage created a peaceful nature song to accompany the brunet on his walk to the rink. There was no indication that anything would go wrong that day.
Because it was a Saturday, their practice started at 4pm and ended at 7. Oikawa took his time when practice ended; he tried to wait for Atsumu so that they could leave together. It was typical for them to debrief on their walk to the bus stop. They would discuss what they need to improve, what’s looking good, how shit their classes were, the latest episode of the anime they’re watching. Anything and everything. But half an hour had already passed before Oikawa’s mother was texting him telling him he should come home and eat, and Atsumu was still out on the ice.
He bid farewell with a get home safe! to the blonde as he left the building. The walk to the bus stop was eerily quiet. Oikawa popped his headphones in to combat the strange almost-silence of the route. Was it just him or did it seem chillier, too? Oikawa didn’t like…whatever this feeling was.
When Oikawa arrived at home, he texted Atsumu. A hot shower later and things still felt off. The brunet sat on the edge of his couch, mindlessly scrolling his phone and shaking the ground with the rapid tapping of his foot. He couldn’t tell you a single thing he looked at. All his thoughts were centered around his best friend—that he’s never known to shut up—going radio silent. After an hour without an answer, Oikawa texted him again.
And again.
And again.
He was hoping if he spammed the blonde that he would get fed up and at least send him something. At 9:30pm, Oikawa checked Atsumu’s location and saw he was still at the rink.
Without a second thought, he went back to retrieve him. He didn’t know why his best friend was still there. He could have just left his phone. But Oikawa had a terrible feeling in his gut that couldn’t be quelled unless he went and checked himself.
The trip back was significantly darker. The sky was cloudy and the streetlights seemed dimmer. The wind nips at his cheeks, dusting them pink as he briskly stalks to the bus stop. The only sound in his ears was the pounding of his heartbeat in his ribcage.
He got to the rink at 10pm. He walked through the door and could hear the music still playing. He sighed and walked into the arena.
“Attsun-”
The blonde’s body was lying on the ice, unmoving.
“Atsumu!”
Shit. Oikawa took off running. He didn’t bother to put on a pair of skates. He needed to make sure his best friend was okay.
How could he have let something like this happen? Oikawa knows better than this. He doesn’t exactly know what happened yet but he knows he was stupid for leaving Atsumu alone in the rink after practice. But the guilt can wait. Atsumu is more important than his feelings right now.
Atsumu was lying on his back, eyes closed under the fluorescent lights above him. He was still breathing, thank god. Oikawa slipped across the ice in his shoes and knelt next to Atsumu. “Hey! Atsumu!” Oikawa grabbed his shoulders but it didn’t seem to do anything. Oikawa looked around. “Shit.”
He grabbed Atsumu’s arm and pulled him to the door to the ice. He hoisted him onto the floor and continued poking and shaking him lightly. Eventually Atsumu’s eyes slowly fluttered open.
“Atsumu!” Oikawa held his shoulders and looked into his eyes. The man squinted at the bright lights of the rink.
“Hm?”
“What the fuck happened?” Oikawa’s voice rose with concern.
“Under rotate…” He mumbled, starting to sit up. “Slipped.”
“Atsumu,” Oikawa repeated, his voice stern, “have you taken a break since practice ended?”
Atsumu groaned. He seemed groggy and out of it. “Ten minutes. Don’t remember when.”
“Are you fucking insane?!”
Oikawa’s outburst caught Atsumu by surprise. He didn’t understand why his friend was freaking out. “What?”
Oikawa huffed, “Do you know what time it is, Atsumu?”
The man in question arched his brow, “What, like 8:30?”
“It’s 10pm! You’ve been skating for seven fucking hours!” Oikawa seethed.
Atsumu’s eyes widened; his jaw dropped a little, “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
Atsumu had never seen Oikawa so upset with him. Sure, they’ve had their fair share of petty arguments and are stern when they need to be, but Oikawa has never yelled at him like this. Never looked at him like this.
Oikawa sighed and put his head in his hand, “I can’t believe you.”
Atsumu ducked his head, like he’s trying to hide. “I’m sorry, Tooru.”
Oikawa shook his head. “I know you are,” He lifted his head to meet the blonde’s eyes again. His volume dropped and his tone became more even when he asked, “What were you thinking?”
Atsumu’s eyes softened. His body feels so heavy. It had to have been the exhaustion from skating so much, but the disappointment and guilt he’s feeling only made him feel worse. “I’ve been strugglin’ with my quad combo and I thought maybe I could get it down tonight.”
Oikawa’s face was painted in concern, his eyes softening and anger dissipating.
“Atsumu…”
“I see now that I was stupid,” Atsumu murmured as he looked away.
“You’re not stupid,” Oikawa’s voice was affirming, yet soft, “but you did make a stupid decision.”
They sat in silence for a few moments. Oikawa looking at Atsumu, concern still evident. Atsumu shied away from his gaze.
“You need to take care of yourself.”
Atsumu shifted his eyes to meet Oikawa’s. Then he pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his cheek on one of them, eyes returning to the far wall instead of the brown irises of his best friend.
“I won’t get better if I don’t work hard,” Atsumu mumbled.
Oikawa sighed and shook his head. “You won’t get better if you don’t take proper care of your body.”
“But-”
“Trust me, Atsumu. If anyone would know, it’s me.”
And Atsumu does trust Oikawa. Oikawa has told him plenty of stories of him making stupid decisions in the name of “working hard.” He knows he could have hurt himself, could have jeopardized his routine. But he also could have nailed his quad combo.
Atsumu glanced at Oikawa, whose gaze was held firm on the blonde. “Tomorrow’s a rest day. You better only show up at this rink for your brother’s game.” His tone was firm. “And on Monday you can work hard, but don’t push yourself.”
Atsumu groaned, “But-”
“I’ll tell coach if you try to stay after practice.”
Atsumu pouted at the brunet, “Fine.”
Oikawa cracked a small smile, “Good.” He stood up and extended a hand to Atsumu. “Let’s get you home.”
So yes, Oikawa is the only one who can really challenge Atsumu when it comes to taking a break. As the former walks into the locker room to change, the latter does a jump just for fun before he steps off the ice. He puts on his skate guards and walks over to the speaker. He’s mid-drink as his coach enters the arena. Atsumu waves.
“Hey, Coach Foster!”
Foster smiles brightly and waves at the boy, “Atsumu! Hope you haven’t been doing anything crazy before practice starts.”
Atsumu walks towards his coach by the rink wall. “Just warmin’ up. Open skate stuff. I only did one jump. A double.”
Akaashi walks in shortly after. He’s always the third to arrive. Very punctual, precise, and kind. It shows in his skating too. He’s normally pretty quiet, but Atsumu and Oikawa have gotten to know him well enough that they know he’s actually got some bite with his friends. They still don’t understand how he manages to handle a relationship with the hockey team’s boisterous starting goalie, but that’s none of their business.
It’s not long after Akaashi walks into the locker room and Oikawa walks out that the rest of the team makes their way through the rink doors. They all quickly change and join the other three on the ice, warming up their bodies so they can start practice on time. Atsumu is, and always has been, a big fan of starting practice when practice is scheduled to start.
Don’t get him wrong, Atsumu still encourages a fun environment for his team. He’ll mess around and make jokes with his teammates, but he’s also not scouted by the national team for no reason. When there’s room for fun, it will be had. But there’s no room for fun when you have to crunch time. So promptly at 4pm, the drills begin.