Chapter Text
There is— a moment; an inexplicable pocket of time where you look in the mirror and feel the complete satisfaction of doing everything right. Not everyone has this moment, and even if you do, it doesn’t happen every time. The moment is elusive. It can also feel different for everyone. Or it will come when you least expect it. It is simple enough to think that perfection is what gives you this euphoric sense, but that would be narrow minded. Obtaining perfection and doing something right are two very different things. They are not mutually exclusive, but you can have one without the other. It’s just a moment. Two seconds out of your life when oxygen fills your lungs and your brain sends off signals to the rest of your body just like it does normally. Your heart pumps blood the same, but you feel something. That is the moment.
The moment does not come riding along the coattails of perfection for Rintarou.
Perfection.
A rather preconceived notion that life requires zero flaws.
Rintarou screws perfection to the sticking place and settles for feeling right.
He moves through the steps of applying eyeliner to one eye methodically. He breathes slowly and keeps his core engaged as he leans into the mirror, one eye closed and the other open. Doing eyeliner on yourself would always be more difficult due to the distorted vision you’re forced to take on. Every new movement Rintarou opens his eye to make sure he isn’t being misinformed by his eyesight. Smooth red cream ink sweeps across his lash line in a smooth straight line. Straight lines always did better for Rintarou’s eyes than angled or curved. Atsumu once told him it made his eyes look even sleepier, but then again Atsumu didn’t know anything.
“Are ya ready t’go, Rin?” The voice swoops into the bathroom along with Rintarou’s heart.
“Almost, gimme a minute,” Rintarou calls back, finishing the final line on one eye and cleaning up the rough edges.
Rintarou opens one eye to examine the full look and catches a figure standing in the doorway through the mirror. A doe-eyed grin accompanied by crossed arms leans against the frame to stare at Rintarou and it only makes Rintarou snort. Rintarou ignores the man momentarily, too fixated on starting the other eye, but his hand stutters when the man speaks.
“Lemme try th’other one.”
Rintarou turns around finally, making eye contact with a raised eyebrow. “You’re gonna mess it up.”
“I watch ya do it enough t’know how. C’mon, I wanna try!”
Rintarou relents, rolling his eyes. He holds out his hand with the eyeliner brush, offering the tool. When the instrument leaves his hand he lets himself sigh in preparation. “Don’t fool around. I’m serious, if you mess up I’m not going out, ‘Samu.”
Osamu grins broadly, hoisting himself onto the bathroom counter and spreading his legs. Rintarou takes the opening and stands between Osamu’s knees. Rintarou shoots a pointed look when Osamu’s ankles lock around Rintarou’s waist.
“Close yer eyes, Rintarou,” Osamu breathes out. He tilts Rintarou’s chin up slightly, thumb brushing over the corner of Rintarou’s mouth.
Rintarou obeys, shutting his eyes slowly and making sure not to crinkle his eyelids by closing too harshly. He can almost picture the way Osamu’s tongue pokes out of his mouth and his eyebrows furrow in concentration. Rintarou stifles an amused hum when he feels the brush finally make eye contact with his bare eye. He can feel the slight shake that Osamu’s hands have that Rintarou’s do not. They’re steady in a way that Rintarou isn’t afraid a line will come out of place, but Rintarou’s hands are much more accustomed to the level of unflappability one needs.
“Don’t make the line too thick, match the other one,” Rintarou reminds.
“Mhm, I know, Rin Rin.”
Rintarou groans outwardly at the nickname and blindly pinches at Osamu’s thigh. “And make sure to do it straight across instead of curving up,” Rintarou adds.
Osamu promptly places his hand over Rintarou’s mouth to shut him up. Rintarou’s eyes open into tiny slits as he peers up at Osamu. There is some mixture of smugness and disapproval in his face. Rintarou pokes his tongue out to lick Osamu’s palm but it does little to deter his hand away.
“I have a twin, you know better than that,” Osamu states matter-of-factly. Rintarou tries to speak but only muffled sounds that vaguely resemble someone getting strangled makes it past Osamu’s hand. “If I take my hand off will ya stop botherin’ me about what to do and just trust me?”
With a nod Osamu pries his hand away. “Just promise me you’re going to be careful.”
“Just promise me you’re going to be careful,” Osamu mimics, replicating Rintarou’s city accent. After Rintarou gives him a heated stare Osamu raises his hands in surrender. “I promise, baby.”
“You’re lucky I love you,” Rintarou punctuates by leaning up to plant a kiss on Osamu’s smile.
“Love ya too,” Osamu whispers against Rintarou’s lips.
Once Rintarou shuts his eyes again, Osamu gets to work. He follows Rintarou’s instructions to keep the line thin and straight. His free hand is tender against Rintarou’s face, fingers brushing feather-light along his hairline. Rintarou wants to press into the touch but holds back so as not to disturb Osamu. He simply revels in the warmth. The warmth from the ghosting of fingertips and the slow huffs of air from Osamu’s nose. There’s a palpable level of focus radiating from the sliver of space between them. Rintarou feels its presence in the uncertain way Osamu moves his hand. It’s obvious how unsure he is but he doesn’t act recklessly, instead making up for his inexperience by taking extreme care in his movements. It’s barely reassuring but comforting nonetheless. Rintarou gets slightly distracted from the sensation against his eye by Osamu slowly moving his hand from Rintarou’s hairline to hold onto the back of his head securely. Rintarou zeroes in on the feeling of Osamu’s pinky softly rubbing circles against his nape. When Rintarou finally settles back into reality he becomes aware of the fact that there is nothing happening to his eye. Rintarou cautiously peeks at Osamu, barely opening one eye to find a blurry image of Osamu just staring at him.
Rintarou makes a soft sound to get Osamu’s attention and Osamu blinks a few times and chuckles. He dips his head down, smile only pulling up on half his mouth in the way it does when he feels especially bashful. Rintarou fully opens the one eye, peering up at Osamu with a slight tilt to his head. Osamu glances back and promptly bursts into laughter at the way Rintarou looks while trying to keep only one eye open.
“What are you laughing at? ‘Samu I’m gonna punch you if you don’t shut up.”
Osamu settles, pinching at his nose and sighing from the exertion. “Sorry, sorry. Ya just look so…” Osamu trails off to cover his mouth so he doesn’t laugh again. “You can open yer other eye, aho.”
Rintarou cautiously opens his other eye, leaning his elbows on Osamu’s thighs. “Why were you starin’?”
“Hm?”
“Don’t play dumb. I caught you red-handed.” Rintarou leans up and knocks his forehead against Osamu’s chin playfully. “Tell me.”
“I was just admirin’ the view. Can ya blame me?”
Rintarou frowns, flushing at the earnest tone. “I hate when you just say things like.”
Osamu shrugs, setting down the eyeliner brush and cupping Rintarou’s face. His eyes scream adoration and Rintarou slouches. “Ya can’t stop me, Rin. You signed up for shameless flirtin’ when ya started datin’ me.”
“And here I thought I avoided it when I picked you over Atsumu.”
Osamu blanches and lightly digs his heel into Rintarou’s lower back. “That ain’t funny, you shithead.”
“You deserve it,” Rintarou shoots back, smirking in victory.
“Now yer just askin’ for it,” Osamu growls. “I was starin’ at ya ‘cause I always think ya look the prettiest when yer relaxed like this. Usually when we’re out ya get this crinkle in yer brow — yup that’s the one,” Osamu snorts, pressing one of his thumbs into the center of Rintarou’s eyebrows, smoothing out the concentration residing there. “Makes ya look all focused, which is cute, but I like it better without that.”
“‘Samu-”
“Shh, I’m talkin’ now.” Osamu leans down and plants a gentle kiss against the bridge of Rintarou’s nose. “You also get a twitch in yer nose. It pulls up the slightest bit,” Osamu pauses, hooking his finger under Rintarou’s nose and pushing it up. Rintarou’s eyes ask him ‘are you serious?’ and Osamu can only wink. “Makes ya look like a rabbit.”
“Are you finished yet?” Rintarou sighs into the question, his hands settling on Osamu’s waist where his fingers can gently slip under the hem of his shirt and roll over Osamu’s hip bones.
“Not a chance.” Osamu tugs Rintarou slightly closer with his legs, one hand sliding down to rest against the juncture where Rintarou’s neck and shoulder meet. “Dunno if this is just ‘cause I’m a catch or what, but your lips curl up more than they do when we’re out in public. You know how I feel ‘bout yer smile, so it’s nice to see.” Osamu grins, tilting Rintarou’s head up and meeting him halfway to kiss him lightly. Just a press of lips, Osamu’s smile spreads as Rintarou relents and smiles into the kiss along with him. It’s difficult for Rintarou to even pretend to be frustrated with Osamu. Rintarou’s grin turns toothy and forces him to break the kiss, Osamu moves his head to press their forehead together. “There it is.”
“Are you aware of how annoying you are?” Rintarou questions, lightly digging his forefinger into the soft skin above Osamu’s hip.
“Don’t act like ya don’t love it,” Osamu teases.
“Yeah, whatever. Did you finish my eyeliner?” Rintarou finally asks, leaning to the side to peer in the mirror.
“About that,” Osamu starts, but is cut off by Rintarou sputtering into laughter. “I may have also been starin’ ‘cause I didn’t know how t’fix that.”
Rintarou balks at his reflection first, laughter rumbling his shoulders. “How did you mess up this badly?”
Compared to the near perfect lines on Rintarou’s left eye, his right eye makes it look like he was recently punched in the face. The line starts fine, but Rintarou can pinpoint the exact moment Osamu wobbled then tried to remedy it by filling in the line a bit thicker. Rintarou leans in to find the cream liner spanning up half his eyelid. There also happens to be one too many wings flicking out from the outside corner of his eye. Rintarou’s tongue runs along the tip of his canine as he comes down from his bout of laughter. The awkward angles of each line also serve to offset the shape of Rintarou’s eye and he can’t help but choke on a laugh by how messy it is.
“You’re gonna make us late for our own party,” Rintarou chastises with a playful lilt.
“Nah, you’ll fix it in like two seconds.” Osamu nudges Rintarou back and slides off the counter, moving to wrap around Rintarou’s middle from behind and hook his chin over Rintarou’s shoulder.
Rintarou presses into Osamu while he reaches for a makeup wipe, deftly swiping it across the ruined eyeliner and removing all traces of red from his eye. The canvas becomes blank again as Rintarou picks up the brush and drags it through the pot of crimson red. One hand sinks into the spaces between Osamu’s fingers where they rest against his stomach; the other lifts to his eye and easily drags out a straight line. The red spills onto pale skin like a river of blood. Rintarou hums as the line pulls into a wing, feeling Osamu’s lips press against the back of his neck. Then Rintarou moves back, swooping out a second wing curving just below the first wing to create two tails. While filling in the gaps, a deep set feeling of content washes over Rintarou. Complete comfort fills him in the way one feels at home. Perhaps that had to do with the fact that Rintarou felt more at home with Osamu than anyone else or anywhere else. The second Rintarou sets down the brush Osamu yanks Rintarou around until they’re facing each other. He’s trapped their intertwined left hands between their chests and Rintarou leans into Osamu; his free hand pushes through Osamu’s fringe fondly.
“Still amazes me how good you are at that,” Osamu comments between chaste kisses to Rintarou’s cheeks and nose.
“It’s all practice. Same way I got good at blocking and you got good at cookin’.”
“Let me be impressed with m’boyfriend,” Osamu whines, surging forward to capture Rintarou’s lips with his own.
Rintarou happily responds to the kiss, lips parting to allow Osamu’s tongue to dip into his mouth. It’s languid and indulgent. While Osamu cradles the back of Rintarou’s head, their mouths slot together just right. Rintarou’s heart pumps in his chest, slowly becoming wrapped in everything Miya Osamu. Rintarou melts. It didn’t matter that sometimes Rintarou felt like him and Osamu were living in two different worlds of entirely different hues. Even if they were colored diametrically opposed by the artist of the universe. It never mattered. It didn’t make any difference to Rintarou. Their colors would blend together. In moments like these his entire essence would meld with Osamu’s and it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. It was the most beautiful he ever felt. Every time left Rintarou feeling vibrant and new. It left Rintarou feeling right.
“Wait,” Rintarou mumbles into Osamu’s mouth, pulling back with an incredulous look on his face. “Boyfriend?”
Osamu rolls his eyes, pulling their tangled hands up to his mouth. He places a barely there kiss on Rintarou's knuckles, looking him in the eyes as a dopey grin pulls on his lips. Rintarou watches with intrigue at the display but says nothing, only gazing at supple lips making contact with the silver band wrapping around Rintarou’s fourth finger.
“Fiancé. It’s hard t’be used to it when we haven’t told anyone yet,” Osamu corrects himself. He places another kiss to the back of Rintarou’s hand then releases it.
Rintarou shakes his head, but there’s a glimmer of a smile resting in his eyes while he exits the bathroom, Osamu hot on his tail. “Good thing we’re telling everyone tonight then, hm?”
Osamu and Rintarou situate themselves in the genkan, donning dress shoes and coats. Rintarou glances in the small mirror by the door and fixes the part of his hair with deft fingers. He catches a glimpse of the ring in the mirror and smiles inwardly.
“Next time I’m doing your eyeliner and maybe we’ll make wherever we’re going on time.”
“Always gotta do everything don’tcha, Seaweed? My eyeliner, propose,” Osamu drones with a teasing lilt.
“Did ya know Atsumu was convinced he was gonna get engaged to Sakusa and Kita-san before we got engaged? He said I was jealous of him. I was already wearin’ the ring around my neck by then,” Rintarou explains, standing up just the slightest bit straighter. When the bit of the Kansai-ben slips into Rintarou’s speech Osamu can’t help but feel warm. Rintarou instantly senses the smug pride echoing off of Osamu. He turns to meet Osamu’s eyes and pulls him in by the lapel of his coat.
“I love you, Rin.”
“I love you too, ‘Samu.”
Rintarou leaves a chaste kiss on Osamu’s lips, relishing in just being in Osamu’s space. He pulls back almost as quickly as he leaned in. Osamu raises a finger to lightly tap against the tip of Rintarou’s nose and Rintarou moves to bite at it, earning a laugh and a faux dirty look from Osamu. Rintarou jerks his head in the direction of the door and Osamu opens it to lead them out.
Yeah, Rintarou thinks. This feels right.