Work Text:
“Let’s have dinner tonight, by the beach.” Akaashi promptly blurts in one quick breathing – as if spontaneity was his trait and as if a major Shonen Jump Editor like himself had all the time in the world. “That is… if you’re free, baby. I know lots have been happening with Onigiri Miya’s expansion as well as marketing and I completely understand if –“
Osamu swiftly stands up from his seat, and reaches across the countertop to plant a short kiss on Akaashi’s cheek before retreating. “Keiji, I took the weekend off, don’t worry. Besides, I’ve been wanting to go to the beach with you, too.” Osamu chuckles, his eyes forming a smile. “You want anything specific? I can drop by the grocery right now,” he adds.
Akaashi smiles and grabs Osamu’s hand to place on top of the same cheek, as if to communicate the relief he felt. “I’m glad you have some time off, it’s been a while… and going to the grocery won’t be necessary. We still have leftovers from Atsumu and Sakusa’s recent visit, remember?” Osamu’s thumb gently caresses Akaashi’s jaw, and he leans into the familiar touch, somehow feeling the exhaustion creep in.
As if triggered by his boundless cycle of thoughts, Akaashi then recognizes how consumed he has been this week. How tired he is of feeling constantly exhausted, and how he feels like his whole life has been caught on a loop with everything going stale except for the monotonous crash of despondency. In that very moment, Akaashi’s breath hitches – there’s a pang in his chest, and he wishes he could tell Osamu, but he has never wanted to be a supplementary mental weight to someone else. Akaashi knows how distressed Osamu is, moreso, he recognizes that they revolve on different worlds, with different axes of rotation, and differing gravities that hold them both down from collapsing.
Akaashi wishes he could turn the shower on and let his apprehension deplete down the drain. He craves for release, for an audience, and for solace, even if just fragments of a puzzle piece. Akaashi thinks the beach gods can help.
“Tsumu bought chicken for two families and I can’t believe Sakusa let him buy that much. I seriously don’t think they’ll survive together, baby.” Osamu pouts and Akaashi laughs as he recalls the night he felt overwhelmed over the abundance of food brought by the couple.
“Cut them some slack, Osamu. I’m sure they’re still trying to be more externally present outside volleyball practices.” Akaashi withdraws his hold from Osamu’s hand and starts to gather their plates to the sink, but Osamu walks up to him and slowly sneaks his arms around his waist. “Baby, I’ll wash the dishes. You should probably take a nap.” Osamu buries his face on the crook of Akaashi’s neck, inhaling the sweet vanilla scent they share – and he thinks to himself, it definitely smells better on him.
Akaashi spins around and puts one hand on Osamu’s shoulder, the other on the nape, his face leaning to touch Osamu’s forehead. “Oh, are we dancing now?” Osamu playfully asks, earning only a half-hearted chuckle from the man whose frame suddenly cowered despite being the same as his. And he’s definitely stressed from work, Osamu observes.
“Sorry to disappoint, monsieur, I do appreciate your handling of the dishes, but are you sure? I mean it’s not that much, I can take care of them as scheduled.” Akaashi drops the hand on the nape and rests it on the other shoulder as Osamu rebelliously sways both of them in the petite kitchen they shared. “Hmmm, I think I can handle unscheduled dishwashing.” Osamu cheekily smiles. “No, but seriously, go rest. You haven’t slept in a day, Keiji.”
Akaashi hums, “Well then, I guess I’ll take you up on that offer. Love you, baby. Thanks.” Osamu watches Akaashi slip from his possession and in that moment, his heart aches.
Sometimes, I’d like to think that I understand Akaashi just as well as his dining preferences, but when all is said and done, I still feel that there are pieces of him he doesn’t want me to see.
Baby, take your time. I’ll be right here when all the pieces align.
_
Akaashi wakes up from a familiar nightmare – one that he has grown painfully accustomed to. He shifts to his side to check the bedside clock and notices that he’s 30 minutes earlier than the alarm, he thinks, at least I didn’t sleep through it this time.
In his sleep, he would dream of nothing, something that is comparable to darkness or pure black. Then, in the split-second before he awakes, something bursts and burns at the same time. He catches a glimpse of clarity, of the pain of growth, of finally living – but the thing is, none of it lasts. Akaashi’s used to it though, feeling things to an ambitious extent and failing to sustain it in the long haul – he’s convinced it’s a part of him now.
“You know you’ve got a really gorgeous profile for someone who’s just woke up, right?” Osamu smirks as he leans on the bedroom’s door frame, an apron wrapped around his waist. “You flatter me, Osamu.” Akaashi rubs his eyes. “I can’t believe you still cooked… come close, I want to guess what it is.” He sits up from his position and inches farther to make space. Osamu crashes into the bed with a slight bounce and lands on top of him.
It’s in moments like this that both of them are thankful for the simple things they have awakened in their relationship – the closeness despite the familiarity that blossomed a little while back. Only in rare occasions would you be able to find a reciprocating love that has been waiting to fall upon.
Akaashi pulls back, “Baby, you smell like… chicken adobo. Wait, you’re cooking the chicken adobo?" He asks with a tone of brewing excitement, lips curving up to form a smile. Osamu laughs in response and everything goes momentarily silent for Akaashi.
“I figured it was perfect for the event. I’d also let you taste but it’s still not finished, I think I added too much soy sauce…” Osamu looms over the miscalculation, shoulders slumping a bit.
“I guess even the best cook in the world falls down sometimes, huh?” Akaashi teases and Osamu gasps in protest, “Not fair! It’s only my second time and I’ll perfect it soon, watch me!”
Akaashi chuckles warmly. “Of course, baby, you’ll get it right eventually, you always do.” He inches closer to rub the tips of their noses together, then starts to stand up from the bed. “In the meantime, I am going to take a bath, get our things ready, and notify the receptionist of our arrival.”
“You need help in the shower?” Osamu instigates, his eyebrows wiggling. “You need help in the kitchen?” Akaashi retorts lightheartedly and Osamu performs the act of being stabbed at the chest, with eyes dramatically open. “You wound me, Keiji.”
“From the bottom of my heart, I hope it heals,” says Akaashi, as he closes the bathroom door.
_
I will always love you how I do
Let go of a prayer for you
Just a sweet word
The table is prepared for you
The ride going to the beach was filled with a comforting silence, it involved the retreating sun that casted a warm glow and Osamu’s occasional hums. Along the road, rich colors blended and stretched across the skies until they reached a singularity in the horizon. From time to time, Akaashi stole lingering glances at Osamu, whose presence illuminated just like the easing sunset ahead of them. It was a sight to paint, a hue of warmth, and a memory to be thankful for.
“Baby, we’re here.” Akaashi says as soon as he spots the signage, and Osamu kills the engine once parked. The hotel Akaashi found was at least an hour and a half away from the city, and it was the closest kind that had a neighboring beach. It had a Scandinavian design that incorporated semi-furnished walls with protruding art pieces, distinct and incredibly unique chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and browns on white-accentuated glossy floor.
“Keiji, this place is beautiful! Not overly-fancy, but also a bit posh, you found a great one.” Akaashi smiles in satisfaction upon hearing his partner’s amazement, and he agrees – this place looks like an absolute catch.
Subsequent to confirming their room reservation with the front desk clerk, they discarded their belongings into their shared room and settled in. Eventually, a mutual decision to go straight down the beach without a minute to waste was made – after all, they did travel here to unwind.
No one could truly say, but maybe it was a coincidence that they were the only ones present by the time they set foot on the beach – or maybe, this was arranged by the beach gods themselves. What Akaashi and Osamu saw was divine, the seashore was rich and clear of rubbish, the saltwater was pristine, and the skyline that harbored remnants of sunset colors minutes ago, now paraded the glow of the evening and its moon. It felt serene, and most importantly, it felt true.
With hands intertwined together, they began to traverse the sand. Each step engraved a trail that served as a reminder that they were here, and that they were alive. Most people believe that the ultimate soothing sound for the soul was the sound of waves hitting the shore – but to the couple, the whole universe could go on mute for all they cared, and their souls would still be soothed by each other’s hold.
“I think this spot is perfect.” Osamu says as both of them stop to flop on the center of the coast. In front of them is the vast quiet sea, making neither howls nor complaints of why its ripples reach no one but two tonight. The salt air brushes Akaashi’s bangs away, and slowly, his defense drifts somewhere else with it.
After a long while of silence and just inhaling the view, Akaashi hugs his legs and tilts his head back up, cozying beneath the night sky and above the sand. He begins to speak, “Osamu… how is it possible?” He softly exhales.
“What is?” Osamu takes a sip at his drink before he looks at Akaashi in anticipation.
“You know, to see the world the way your eyes do, and to talk about dreams the same way your words do, how can you be so… hopeful?”
It was probably the ocean breeze that urged Osamu to rise up on his feet, stretching his limbs out of a previously strained position. He walks to the shore and chases the waves for a couple of times until he lets it meet his toes. Akaashi watches him, hopefully.
From behind, Akaashi sees Osamu inhaling a dragging supply of air, its release coming in the form of a scream, “I HATE THE WORLD!! I HATE THE INVESTORS I MET YESTERDAY, I HATE THE CUSTOMER WHO WAS OBNOXIOUSLY RUDE, AND I HATE THAT I WAS ONLY ABLE TO WATCH TSUMU’S GAME AT THE TELEVISION!! AAAAHHHHHHHHH!!”
Osamu vehemently pants by the time he is finished, he sits back down next to Akaashi and chuckles, “That was fun. I haven’t done that since high school.” Akaashi stares at him in positive disbelief, also feeling the urge to holler at the darkness blanketing the body of water. “You are absolutely crazy for that,” he says.
Akaashi notices how Osamu’s expression morphs into genuineness – he looks like he’s about to mean every single word he’ll say. “Keiji, I don’t remember being the most hopeful person you’ve met, I don’t always survive bad days, and fuck – there are moments wherein I don’t even think there’s an adequate reason to get out of bed. But sometimes, you just gotta go for it, you know?”
“… what if it’s useless?” Akaashi whispers perhaps a little too fast as he starts to draw circles on the surface between the two of them, his chin resting on top of folded knees. “What if I go for it with all that I have, and I fail, and everything returns back to zero? What if this heavy dose of pressure eventually catches up to me, and I become paralyzed before I could even breathe?”
Then Akaashi exhales, letting his last demon go. “No, what if I become aware that I am actually incapable of falling back in love with what I do?” He continues.
Osamu’s forefinger meets Akaashi’s at the end of the circle. “Then forget about loving it for a while. Don’t you just have to like something in order to give it a try again?”
Silence follows suit and Osamu reaches out to hold Akaashi’s face in his palms. He sees a tear fall down, and then another, until evident sobs combat the sounds of crashing waves. “Baby…”
Akaashi shakily puts his hands on top of Osamu’s hold and conquers his nightmares, “I-I’ve been so exhausted all this time, Osamu.” He exhales but his trembles carry on. “I would wake up with a strong f-feeling that I could live a day without having to fake my e-enthusiasm – a day in which I didn’t have to match everyone else I interacted with… b-but I also realized that I was just holding it in for longer, a-and every time I tempered myself, I felt like I would break sooner. I kept trying to make myself believe that I had to love what I do in order to deserve it. God, I am so fucking tired of lying.”
Tears are now relentlessly cascading down Akaashi’s face despite his efforts of wiping them off. Osamu embraces him tightly and he melts in completely, as if this was the only touch in the world that could possibly take his demons down. When Akaashi’s sobs quiet down, they lean back, sprawled next to each other beneath the darkness of the night.
The stars lean down to kiss you
And I lie awake and miss you
“Do you think the moon’s judging us right now?” Osamu softly asks with a smile and continues, “Keiji, you have made loving so easy. In your eyes, I never felt as if I was lacking because I knew that you only longed for the honest. You taught me that I do not have to compromise myself nor my happiness in order to make my presence felt. Keiji… I am so in love with you, please let me help you carry your bearings.”
And just as Akaashi had thought he had released the last of his tears, he clutches Osamu’s chest and cries like he’s never done before. Together under the stars, the bursts and burns come – and this time, they last.
“Osamu, I want to like life again.”