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"...In conclusion, the two of ya together are the worst thing to happen to me, but the best thing to happen to each other. I love ya hooligans, Congratulations." Shuugo raises a glass to the packed hall, bubbling champagne catching the light of the chandeliers, "To number's 13 and 15, the Miya's!"
His toast is repeated en masse.
The Miya's .
He can’t help it, he shudders as he hears the echo bounce around the room as he tips his champagne down his throat.
He's happy for them, he is. He remembers when Atsumu first entered the MSBY gym, fresh from high school and bursting with ego and talent. He had been insufferable. He had also been very lonely, and it didn't take long for Meian to recognize the shield of personality their new setter had set around his insecurity. He remembers taking him aside a few weeks in, telling him to cool it with the attitude, and watching as the nervous 18 year old within Miya Atsumu came out from behind the barricades. He hadn’t even been captain yet, but he likes to think this was one of the first times he had to act like it.
He remembers a few years later when Sakusa Kiyoomi first flinched away from a high-five from him, a biting remark flying off of his tongue before he could catch himself. He had watched as the cheeks usually hidden behind a mask flushed pink and the quick apology for the disrespect towards his captain. The way that Kiyoomi had needed a gentle touch to get to know him, like a feral cat who needed to get used to his surroundings before he gave an inch. In time, with quiet conversations and small gestures of comfort for the easily-agitated wing-spiker, he had unlocked the quiet but intense personality of Sakusa Kiyoomi.
He also has the early memories of the two of them burned into his temporal lobe. There had been the bickering. Oh, the bickering. Every corner of the training facility had seen the two of them spar verbally, with increasing tension and building pressure until a few months into Sakusa's first year with the Jackal's, when it finally exploded into a different definition of sparring. More like wrestling. With their mouths. Everywhere. Three years later and he still has to check around corners in the locker room after a particularly good win.
But he also saw the way they looked at each other between sharp words, the way their lips always seemed to hide smiles when they were together, and the way their hands seemed to fit only around a volleyball or the other. They’re soulmates, they’re his friends, teammates, and he’s very happy for them. He is.
He’s also a little… jealous. But he tries not to dwell on it right now, as he makes his way over to the men of the hour, and hugs the tearful blonde who’s already reaching out towards him.
“Thanks so much Cap, that was beautiful.” Atsumu is legitimately weeping as he embraces his captain firmly, having insisted that if he didn’t speak at the wedding ‘then what’s even the point?’ Kiyoomi had rolled his eyes at Shuugo as his then-fiance had asked him, but it had been in a very fond way. The man himself now stepped forward to shake his hand, more comfortable with him, but still not a hugger.
“Thank you for indulging him, we both appreciate it.” The quiet smile that was still fixed on Kiyoomi’s face was so soft that it almost made Shuugo blush.
“Couldn’t say no to the two of ya if I tried.” And it’s true. They’re handfuls, but they’re his handfuls damnit.
“Okay volley-boys, the season just ended, you’ll see each other again in a few months.” Miya Osamu, speaking into the microphone again, playing his part as MC for his twin’s wedding, “Thanks again Meian, and I’m not talkin’ about the speech, but as someone who’s dealt with Atsumu since birth, yer the bravest of us all.” And he shoots a wink over at him.
Shuugo winks back at him, offering a warm smile with it before giving the newlyweds a final clap on the shoulder and heads back to his table with some of the other Jackals, finding his seat wedged between the broad shoulders of Bokuto and the not-as-broad shoulders of Oliver’s wife.
“Okay, so apparently we’ve reached the point in the night where I say something sweet.” Osamu’s eyes took a searching look down at his notes, as if he hadn’t been rehearsing for the past two months. Shuugo would know, he’d gone through it once on the train back to Hyogo. “But y’all know if I do that, this guy,” he cranked his head to the side where Atsumu is seated, “will never let me hear the end of it. So instead...” and he continues, Shuugo just one person in his attentive, responsive audience.
He’s gotten to know Miya Osamu over the years, between late night visits to Onigiri Miya after practice dragged by his twin, their sometimes shared train rides on weekends where all the Hyogo boys head home to visit family, and even more so over the last few months leading up to the wedding. He’s created a mental catalogue of things that are inherently Miya Osamu.
Where his twin is loud and obnoxious, Osamu is more contained and a touch calmer. Most people would say a lot calmer, but Shuugo’s seen Osamu at the sidelines of enough league finals games to know that he can get… ‘enthusiastically violent’ under the right circumstances. He’s also seen him and his brother at one too many sharehouse parties, attempting to drink each other under the table, to think he’s a great deal calmer than his more obvious twin. No, Osamu’s just got a bit more of a lid on his chaos. It’s charming.
Tonight, that veiled chaos makes him a very good master of ceremonies, Shuugo thinks. He roasts his brother, his new brother-in-law, and a smattering of others throughout the hall with that trade-marked deadpan, never stepping over the line into mean-spirited territory. But his favourite part comes at the end.
“... yer the best brother a guy could hope fer Kiyoomi.”
“I’m right here ya scrub!”
“And you,” He looks at Atsumu, matching sets of hooded eyes meeting, “I spent my whole life worried that I’d have to take care of ya when we’re old and grey.” The twins share a look, an inside joke passing between them, “Thought I’d have to force ya to be nice forever so ya wouldn’t be left behind. I shoulda known I had nothin’ to worry about. Yer to damn stubborn to be left behind, and ya found someone who’s gonna be able to look after ya better than I ever could.” He gives a nod to Kiyoomi, smile growing, “Ya have a happy life Tsumu, happier than I ever coulda imagined yer sorry ass gettin’, but it’s exactly the life I always hoped you’d have. I’m only gonna say this in public once so here ya go. I love you, scrubby. I’m so fuckin’ happy fer ya.”
Atsumu is a leaky faucet at this point, hand covering his mouth to stop from audibly bawling, Kiyoomi's hand wrapped firmly around his free one. Osamu coughs, clearing his throat a little, emotions taking over him for a second, before bringing the microphone back to his mouth, flashing a grin to the hall, back in control. He's good like that.
“Now let’s put this dance floor to use huh? I have money down that Tsumu’s gonna slip in his own happy tears.” He ducks just in time as a wadded-up napkin is thrown at him from the head table.
---some time later---
He’s feeling pleasantly tipsy while nursing his beer and watching people dance, still at his table. He’s humming along to whatever’s playing when a large frame drops into the seat beside him.
“Okay, I’ll bite.” He says as he tosses a look at him, apparently aware of the fact he hasn’t moved in some time. Shuugo grins and takes a swallow of his drink before answering.
“Ya would.”
Osamu swats at his arm with his free hand, the other holding a beer glistening almost as much as he is. He’s been dancing for a while, alternating between his niece-in-law and some friends from Inarizaki.
“Shouldn’t have left ya open fer a food dig, that’s on me, I should know better. You and yer shitty jokes are always waitin’ fer an opening.”
“Well you laugh at these shitty jokes so I think it’s only fair fer ya to take some responsibility for enablin’ me.” Osamu’s grin is so warm at that one, and he swears he can see colour on his cheeks. Cute.
“Fine, fine, I’m an enablin’ piece of shit, ya caught me.” He raises his hands in surrender and bites his lip before continuing, “Now why’ve ya got the thousand-yard stare goin’ on at the ‘wedding of the damn century’.” The quote is what Atsumu had been proclaiming the day would be for the past six months. It was really hard not to be pulled into the excitement of his friends. Atsumu who had been loud and generous with his joy, and Kiyoomi who had been consistently grinning behind his mask and practically vibrating while trying to contain it.
“Just… They’re really good fer each other ya know? And they’re such disasters. A perfect storm.”
“Well ain’t that a nice way to put it.”
“I am nothing if not a consummate professional.” He gives himself a moment by taking a drink, collecting the thoughts that have been flitting through his head. “I just feel like I’ve spent so long trying to do things ‘right’. Be a respectable person, nice guy, and a half-decent captain, but I still can’t figure out how to have that.” He nods towards the newlywed Miya’s, who are in an honest to god robot-dance-off where they are the only people competing and everyone else watching is losing because they are truly bad at it.
“I mean, I don’t know why ya’d want exactly that, but I get it.” Neither of them can look away from the awkward jerky movements of the two on the dance floor for a moment. It’s almost impressive how two Olympic athletes can possess absolutely zero rhythm. After a disastrous attempt at the worm, they are able to look away from the mess.
“But really, I get what ya mean. Like, growing up, people always saw Atsumu first. Even now, it’s always ‘Atsumu and Osamu’ - you know? Cause he just shines, and I’d never wanna take that away from him, but I think somewhere along the way, I figured out that if people were going to look at him first, then I had to do everything I could to be the more ‘digestible’ of the two of us. Easier to handle. Now, he’s a married Olympian and I’m…”
“Digestible?”
He huffs a laugh. “I was hoping for ‘a highly eligible bachelor with a mean karaage chicken recipe and better hair’ but sure, let’s go with that."
“You can be all of the above.”
“Ya think so?”
“Yer karaage lives in my head rent free.”
“What about eligible bachelor?”
“Hmm.” Shuugo starts counting on his fingers, “Steady income. Entrepreneur. Gorgeo-” Shit. Shit. Does he finish what he was saying or is that weird? Is it weirder that he stopped himself? Did he notice? Maybe he didn’t notice. It’s pretty loud in here.
He chances a glance.
Osamu is smirking at him.
...Well he’s lived a good life, Meian Shuugo. Time to throw himself into the ocean after embarrassing himself again in front of a cool, successful, attractive man who happens to be his friend's brother. Oh God. He’ll totally tell Atsumu about this, and he’ll never live it down and the team won’t respect him and he’ll lose his captaincy. But that’ll be fine cause he’ll have already thrown himself into the ocean.
“Ya know if ya keep bugging out like that I’m gonna think ya didn’t mean it.” He glances again and sees the teasing look in Osamu’s eyes, almost sparkling. Definitely blushing. Huh.
The ocean can wait for him.
“That was a nice speech.” Osamu thankfully has sensed a need for a safer topic. Although he’s still blushing and he swears he’s leaning closer to him than he was a minute ago. Getting into his space.
“Thanks. Good job tonight.” He leans in and rests an elbow on the table, bridging the gap between them so they’re a little closer than friendly.
“Thanks, was stressful as hell.”
“Yeah? Groomzilla and Groom Kong make it tough on you today?”
“They were actually surprisingly chill about it, but I’m calling them that for the rest of my life. How much are ya selling the rights for?”
“I’ll have my lawyers call yer people and send over the paperwork.” He’s got a nice smile, Miya Osamu. Thinking about it makes the back of his neck heat up. “Why was it stressful?”
Welp. There goes the nice smile, this one’s a little wry, a little sharper. A lot sad. And he leans back a little, withdrawing into himself a bit.
“Woulda been easier if my co-MC hadn’t fucked off.”
Oh yeah.
He remembers the day a few months ago when Atsumu had come storming into the locker room, Kiyoomi stalking behind quietly fuming. Kiyoomi hadn’t said much, his jaw tensed closed, but everything he didn’t say out loud was balanced by the sheer volume of words his fiance had rattled off. What the team eventually pieced together was that Suna Rintarou, best friend of the groom, had broken up with his long-term boyfriend, Miya Osamu. To make it more dramatic, they were playing EJP Raijin the next week, the team Suna Rintarou played for.
“I heard. Sorry about that.”
“Eh. You didn’t do it. Thanks fer beatin’ him.”
Oh and the Jackal’s had flattened them. Three straight sets. It was a whole thing behind-the-scenes.
“My pleasure. Must suck bein’ here celebrating wedded bliss with everything.”
“It’s pretty easy actually, I mean look at them.” He nods his head towards the dance floor, where the newly minted husbands are now wrapped up in each other, Atsumu throwing his head back in a loud cackle while Kiyoomi smiles wide enough that his teeth sparkle in the light, they look so fucking happy. “It just sucks that I had to lose Rin completely in the process. We promised if we broke up we wouldn’t let it be weird, and here we are. I’m alone, and he’s who the fuck knows where cause he’s bein’ a goddamn coward and doesn’t want to figure out how we can be friends. That’s all I want, to talk to him, but that’s Rin for ya.” He sighs, dragging a hand across his face. “Sorry Meian-san, I shouldn’t be unloading this on ya, yer a guest.”
“Hey, you are too.”
“I’m the brother of one of the grooms, I ain’t no guest. I’m an MC, caterer, and emergency contact for little old ladies who couldn’t find parking at the temple this morning. I’m free labour. Fuck, I just want a break.”
And he looks at this man. This kind, funny, handsome, strong man, and the answer is clear.
“Okay.”
Osamu looks at him with question marks in his eyes, head cocked at him like a curious animal, “What are ya talkin’ about?”
“I think you've worked hard, and ya deserve a break.” He inches a little closer, pressing his thigh against the other, dropping a hand onto his leg. The flush across Osamu’s face was instantaneous. "Let me distract ya fer a bit."
“I-” He gulps and looks away, trying to hide the way his eye’s have obviously darkened. “Meian-san, if this is some pity thing-”
“Osamu.” His thumb rubbed a circle into his thigh as he spoke, “this is the farthest thing from a pity offer. I mean,” He leans in, making sure his breath brushes his ear as he speaks in a low rumble, “look at ya. I just think someone who's worked so hard all day should be shown a little appreciation.” A tiny gasp escapes Osamu’s mouth, before he cracks a grin.
“Fuck this, my brother’s a married scrub.”
--- --- ---
It was a brilliant choice to host the reception at a hotel. Absolutely brilliant. Especially since Shuugo had one of the rooms at said hotel. It made the business of slipping away from the reception hall and up to his room with the brother of the groom much easier.
The elevator ride up had been silent, save for the pounding of blood in his ears as he watched Osamu’s eye’s. A less observant man would say they were just grey, but right now, they were so much more than ‘just grey’. They were dark, warm, and a little bit sharp. Sharp like the canine tooth that poked out from his lip as he smirked at Shuugo. A little daring.
The elevator pings and Osamu is first off, grabbing his sleeve as he goes, pulling him into the hall.
“Hold yer horses.” He tugs back and misjudges his strength a bit, pulling Osamu into his chest. Osamu looks up at him, that grin teasing him. He can’t help but wrap his other arm around that waist, pressing them closer together, right in the middle of the hallway.
They stand in it for a second, breath heavy and low. He’s pretty sure if Osamu listened closely, he could hear his pulse through his blazer. But then he sees him reaching up and feels strong hands curl into his hair, and it’s over.
He pulls him forward by the waist and their mouths meet in the middle. The kiss feels like the bass of one of the songs playing at the reception. It’s heavy, steady, and he feels it reverberating in him. Then Osamu opens his mouth a little wider to deepen the kiss and he let’s his tongue explore. His head is spinning a little, in a very good way.
Osamu is the one to break the kiss, barely separating their faces, just enough to breathe words into the distance.
“Which one’s yer room?” All he can do is nod towards the door to their left. Osamu flashes that grin at him again and brings his hand slowly down from the back of his head to his front, fixing his rumpled collar as he goes. “Better hurry up, we’ve only got an hour before we gotta be downstairs fer the groom's big send-off.” One of those hands continues to slip down the front of his shirt, burning a warm trail down towards-
“Fuck.” It’s drawn out and a little embarrassing, but goddamn those hands work fast.
“Yeah that’s kinda the plan.” He hears and feels the husky whisper in his ear, when did he close his eyes? He cracks them back open to catch that heavy grey stare.
“Yer a smartass aren’t ya?”
“Never had complaints about this ass, Captain .” And as Shuugo gets a hand on said ass, he agrees, nothing to complain about here.
-----almost exactly an hour later-----
“Where the hell were ya? Ya’ve gotta do the announcement for the send-off and get everyone to prepare their sparklers!” Atsumu is parked just inside the reception hall, hands on hips, when they reappear. They appear only a touch disheveled, and pray that the lights cover up the flush in their cheeks.
“Problem in the kitchen, stole Meian for his professional opinion on the beef.”
“Yer a fuckin’ chef Samu, why would ya need a retired farm boy to check on yer meat?”
“I was happy to help.” He knows he’ll laugh if he looks at Osamu so he keeps his gaze fixed on his twin, who’s thankfully too preoccupied with his own thoughts to catch the bubbling energy bouncing between his brother and his friend.
“Whatever, yer hear now. Go make the announcement, I’m gettin’ Omi.” As he turns to find his lanky love, Osamu chuckles, finally risking a direct glance at Shuugo.
“Whatever ya say, Groom Kong.” And Shuugo can’t help the laugh that bursts from his lips, he really can’t.
“Groom what! ?” Atsumu’s shriek bounces off the wall, quickly lost amidst the music and laughter of the celebration.
About ten minutes later when the quick shouting match between twins is forgotten, the husbands exit the hall amidst a shower of sparks. They are smiling brightly at each other, barely seeing the faces of the people in their lives they had brought together for this day, totally wrapped up in each other. As they step foot outside, two other sets of eyes find each other and share a soft grin.
And sure, Meian Shuugo might still be a little jealous of the weird and warm love of his friends, but he thinks he may have found something of his own amidst the champagne and bright lights of the night.