sakuatsu but make it an office romance

sakusa, the youngest son of the company’s ceo who—despite his poor people skills—is competent and well-connected enough to manage the sales team. and atsumu, a temp employee who—through sheer spite for people saying he’d fail if he tried—could sell fire to the devil himself.

no one knows how atsumu’s numbers are as good as they are. he has no formal training. his hair is piss yellow. he puts his foot in his mouth at half their team meetings. but somehow??? he is their top salesman month after month. it doesn’t take long for sakusa to be suspicious.

this is the part where sakusa knows they have an important meeting with a potential client across the country so, needing to put their best foot forward, he books a trip for him and atsumu to get the job done. intending to watch Very Closely the entire time.

shenanigans that may or may not happen along the way: suitcase mixups. there’s one one bed. sudden, unexpected snow storms.

atsumu with clients is all the things he never is with his coworkers: quiet, quick to laugh, charming. sakusa tries not to stare at him like he’s grown a second head. afterwards, atsumu sheds this skin like a snake, and he’s back to his usual bratty self: demanding, competitive.

“you could work here full time,” sakusa suggests at one point. “your numbers are good enough.”

but atsumu’s face screws up like he bit into a lemon.

“yeah, if i wanna die of boredom,” he huffs. “this is just temporary. i got plans.”

he doesn’t elaborate; sakusa doesn’t ask.

time passes. atsumu initiates a passive aggressive war of post-it notes. they say things like, “keep me past 8 again and i QUIT,” and “every time futakuchi talks to me you’re getting one of these little bastards” and sakusa starts finding them EVERYWHERE.

sakusa considers his options. he could snap at him. he could ignore them. instead he peels them off his things, places them in a small box in his desk, and begins to retaliate. he writes, “we all know that tie is a clip on,” and “overtime is assigned based on tardiness”.

“yer kind of a shit manager,” atsumu points out when their team goes out to get celebratory drinks one night.

“you’re kind of a shit employee,” sakusa counters, eyes narrowed over his beer, lips curled into a smile despite himself.

atsumu barks a laugh, loud and delighted.

a complete guide to dating your subordinate in the workplace, by sakusa kiyoomi:

• don’t.

it’s a good rule, one he stands by. but it’s blurred by the fact of his attraction to atsumu, the way he feels himself favoring him and then overcompensating too hard to not favor him. it’s not good or fair to atsumu or the rest of the team so something has to give.

so when a position opens up at another branch, one that’s entire cities away, sakusa quietly applies and, when the offer comes back, quietly accepts.

he doesn’t know how to bring it up. he’s not particularly close to his team. before he figures it out, it’s last day.

he stays for hours after sending everyone else home, quietly finishing all of his work until late in the night. as he starts to gather his things from his desk—he finds the box of post-it notes.

he’s not sure what to do with these, either. selfishly, he wants to keep them. and why shouldn’t he? they were given to him.

“finally,” someone says in a gruff, sleep-ragged voice. “thought you’d never be done.”

sakusa doesn’t jump, but it’s a near thing.

atsumu is rumpled & bleary eyed. there’s a line on his cheek like he fell asleep against the hard edge of—something. maybe a desk. he rubs at his eye with a fist, yawns wide enough to crack his jaw, and offers a paper to sakusa, who looks warily at it, like it might bite him.

“it’s my notice,” atsumu says. “figured since yer goin’ away, might as well.”

sakusa takes the paper and scans it without really processing anything it says. “you’re leaving?” he asks, unhappy.

leaving was simpler when he thought he knew where atsumu’d be in the world.

“well, yeah,” atsumu says. “honestly this was supposed to be over when i got top sales the first time, when my old man invited me back to our company. but.” he looks away. shrugs.

“your company,” sakusa echoes, brow furrowing.

“surprise,” atsumu says flatly, “i’m an heir.”

sakusa frowns. “i have to file this now,” he says as he realizes it. a headache had begun to blossom.

“or,” atsumu says, “crazy idea, but you could just say ‘fuck it’ and come have a drink with me.”

sakusa blinks at him, unimpressed.

“or file it, yeah, whatever,” atsumu sighs.

and so sakusa files the letter of resignation. and then they have drinks. and when they finally kiss atsumu drags sakusa in by his tie to but waits for sakusa to close the distance between them.

and in the morning when sakusa has to make the trip down to his new city, his new apartment, his new life, he leaves a post-it note on atsumu’s fridge with his new address. an invitation for him to be part of this new life, if he wants.

the end