Chapter Text
Shuugo saw the look in Osamu’s eyes that night. Two V.League teams crowded into Onigiri Miya, the energy was buzzing, drinks were flowing. He was at his favourite seat at the front counter, it was just left of center, gave him a great view of the restaurant, and a good angle behind the bar. Usually, Osamu would sneak him looks from precisely this spot, toss him a quiet grin as he formed onigiri. Sometimes he’d even slide him a ‘mistaken order’ with a wink.
But that night, he saw the long looks at Suna Rintarou on the other side of the restaurant. As if he were yearning for something that wasn’t anything he could provide. They had history, so much of it. Anything Shuugo had with him, Samu had with Suna for years before Shuugo threw himself in front of his sights, and by Shuugo’s estimations, as he watched the returned looks and nods, it seemed that Suna was back on Samu’s radar in a very real way.
---a few weeks later // the morning after ‘the incident’---
Osamu had woken early, facing Shuugo who was still wrapped up in sleep. He spent a few minutes watching him, taking in the strong jaw, the soft expression on his face, the way his eyebrows were free of any tension. He hopes his own expression looks that carefree, that open, right now. He feels the strong arms wrapped around him, holding him close and keeping him oh so warm. He had waited until his bladder had screamed that he needed to get up before carefully extracting himself and padding down the hall to the bathroom.
While he washed his hands after relieving himself, he caught the smile dancing across his face.
Maybe...
He quietly laughed at himself, at how absolutely gone he was at this moment. They needed to talk, they really needed to talk, but last night had put a bit of the stress inside his head on the back burner. They could figure this out, because whatever was going on recently, they felt the same way about each other, which was progress.
Then he made his way back to his room, maybe to wake him up enough to find out what he wanted for breakfast, but before the thought forms he takes in the sight of Shuugo asleep, face down, sheets pooling around his waist, and freezes.
He hadn’t seen the scratches the night before. It was dark when they had fallen into bed, emotions were high, Osamu wasn’t looking at his back then.
But he sees them now.
They look like they sting, like the nails that had made them were sharp. Osamu keeps his nails very short, almost comically so. It’s easier to work with food if he isn’t worrying about things getting caught under his nails.
So they’re not his. He knows that much.
The air must change enough in those few seconds that Shuugo feels it, even deep in a hungover sleep, and he stirs. His hair’s a mess. If Osamu wasn’t still frozen and horrified, it might be considered cute the way it’s sticking up all over the place. He blinks at him, confusion in his eyes, eyebrows starting to furrow, and what looks like a shimmer of a headache blooming across his face.
Ah, yes. He’s going to be hungover as fuck.
“Samu? What’s goin’ on?” His voice sounds gravelly and dry. Something about it hardens Osamu’s heart.
“What the fuck are those?” He nods his head at his exposed back, that gorgeously muscled back, and the long red marks down it. Shuugo’s eyes clear a bit, and the guilt that overtakes them makes Osamu want to scream.
“Uh… they’re…”
“I’m not an idiot. Who was it?”
“I don’t know.” Shuugo blinks, he really doesn’t remember her face, but he remembers the long hair. It was nearly the same dark brown that the man in front of him has, almost black. “Some girl from the club last night.”
Osamu can taste bile in his throat.
“Last night?”
“Before I came here.” He won’t look at him, why won’t he look at him?
“Did ya fuck her?”
“I uh…” Shit. He can’t remember. It’s too early, and he was so drunk, it’s all hazy. He can ask Inunaki, he was there right? He sees everything.
“Goddamn it Shuugo. Were ya fuckin’ safe?”
“I think so?”
“Ya think so?” Samu doesn’t even care that his voice cracks. “And ya came here after?” Another thought hits him that hurts somehow deeper, “Do you remember last night with me at all?”
“Samu I-”
“No, stop.” He’s got to get back in control, if he has a lid on this, then he can handle it. “Ya gotta leave. Ya gotta get outta here, I can’t-” He digs his short nails into his palms, he will not cry while he is still here.
“Can we talk about-”
Now that makes Osamu bark a cold, dark laugh.
“Talk?”
Cause it’s funny, see? He wanted to talk earlier. He wanted to talk weeks ago, when things started feeling different between their ‘arrangement’. He wanted to talk to Rin when things first got rocky with them a couple of years ago, not months after they had already broken up. He wanted to talk to Atsumu back in high school when he decided to quit volleyball, but he was too much of a coward.
He wanted to be heard. To be seen.
But right now, all he can see in front of him is another person who’s going to see through him, and somehow, it will always be for the worse.
“Get yer shit and get outta my house.” He turns his back to the wide eyes and the hurt expression, silently makes his way back to the bathroom and closes the door behind him where he listens to see if Shuugo will follow his wishes.
And because he’s reliable, dutiful Shuugo, he does. He hears slow steps trace the path their discarded clothes made down the hall, the door open and close, then he hears the silence that seems to expand and suffocate him.
He doesn’t know if that’s what he needs, but goddamn it’s what he wants.
He splashes water on his face, still stuck in some stormy expression, and thinks about what he needs right now.
He knows where he needs to go, because if there’s one person he can trust in this moment, it’s the person who’s been seeing through him forever.
---not long after---
He looks at the front door, the one he’s so familiar with, and reconsiders. He hasn’t warned them he’s coming over, although he’s never needed a reason for showing up on their front step. But this time is different, this time it’s going to hurt.
As he continues the staring contest he’s holding with the door knob, his copy of the key clenched in his fist, biting into his palm, the door swings open and he’s confronted with his mirror image. Save for the stupid damp hair and concerned face.
“Omi says you’ve been outside fer 5 minutes, ya forget how to knock dumbass?” His eyes meet his brother’s and he feels himself crumble.
“Tsumu...” His brother drags him through the door and he collapses into his arms, tears finally overtaking him.
It’s a bit of a blur. He sees flashes of the apartment fly by, he hears the bathroom sink running, feels hands firmly guiding him into the guest bedroom and a fleece blanket being draped over his shoulders.
“Yer scaring me Samu, what’s going on?”
“H-h-he-” He can barely get the words to form in his head, let alone trying to force them through his hyperventilating.
“Samu look at me.” He feels hands on both sides of his face and he is forced to look into eyes that mirror his own, save for their amber colour. “Talk to me Samu, I’m right here.” It hurts to breathe, and it’s worse to drag the words out. Somewhere in the background the bathroom sink cuts off and words somehow sputter out instead.
“Sh-Shuugo. He came over last night and-and-” He stares harder into those eyes, trying to ground himself, feeling the steady hands on his face, and oh god he’s going to have to say it out loud, “Tsumu, he said he loved me.”
He feels more than hears Atsumu’s sharp inhale at that, but he ignores it, he’s on a roll now, words rushing out of his mouth,
“But he didn’t remember it this morning and he was with someone else last night before coming over and I don’t know who. I didn’t know until this morning, I swear, and he might not have been safe and his face was so- was so-” He shakes his head trying to erase the mental image of all of it, “I feel…”
And the rush of words run out. What is it?
“...I feel dirty. Kinda used.”
The words hang in the air between them for a second until-
“Oh fuck no.”
The hands drop from his face, which is good cause both of the twins eyes snap to the door of the guest room. There in the doorway almost taking up the whole frame, is Kiyoomi. Eyes dark, body tense, rage rolling off of him, looking dangerous.
“Omi, no!”
But he’s already whipped around, having presumably heard enough. Atsumu casts a worried look at his brother, whose tears are still falling down his face, but his breath is caught by surprise at his usually cool-headed brother-in-law's actions. They hear the sound of the closet door crashing against the wall, presumably being flung open, and the sound of rifling coats. Atsumu lifts away from Osamu, wrapping the blanket firmer around him with shaky hands.
“I’ll be right back.” All Osamu can do is nod as his twin scrambles forward and out the door, the sound of his footsteps taking him to the coat closet.
“Omi, ya don’t have-”
“Yes I do.”
“Kiyoomi.”
“You take care of Osamu, I’ll take care of him.”
“Yer upset-”
“Atsumu.” Silence for a moment, Osamu holds his breath to listen. “He hurt my family. No one does that. Osamu needs you here, and I need to go have a chat with our ‘captain’. I love you.” The sound of lips on a cheek. Then more steps, the door opens and closes.
Silence for a moment.
Osamu hears a gulping sound from the hall and notices that he’s no longer actively crying. Atsumu’s face is a little pale as he returns to the room, planting himself heavily beside him and throwing his arm back over Osamu’s shoulders, tugging him in for a squeeze. After a moment, Osamu returns the pressure, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his brother's front.
They sit like that for a few minutes, listening to their rapid heart beats, Osamu hiccuping with the aftershocks of crying. After their breathing settles, Osamu feels Atsumu pull back and rub a hand down his face, worry etched into it. It’s weird seeing him like this, but hey, he’s human too.
“Fuck, I love him Samu.” He sighs deep, looking down at his brother, whose arms are still wrapped around his older brother’s frame. “If he gets hurt defendin’ yer honour, I’m gonna ride him into next week, then I’m gonna murder him fer bein’ an emotional idiot.”
Osamu gets caught between a laugh and a gag at the same time.
“That- that is the worst sentence I have ever heard and I’m never gonna forgive ya fer makin’ me hear it.” Atsumu gives him a steady but incredibly soft look.
“And I’m never gonna forgive ya fer gettin’ hurt like this, scrubby.”
His brief laugh from a moment ago is hijacked by a sob. He cracks open again. The tears aren’t overwhelming this time, he’s not shocked by them, but they tear through him in a painful drag. Breath catching, he grips tightly to his brother again, who returns the gesture by carding one hand through his hair, the other rubbing his back, soothing the mess of a man wrapped around him.
“So ya love him. Meian.” It’s whispered, which is nice, it softens the blow of hearing it out loud.
“Yeah Tsumu, think I do.”
“And he said it too?”
“Sure did. He couldn’t remember saying it this morning. Ya think I’d learn my lesson, right? After Rin? I’m an idiot.”
“Yer not an idiot.”
“Ya call me an idiot every day.”
“That’s only when yer being an idiot, and yer not right now.” He leans back and holds him by the shoulders, looking him dead in the eye. “Yer hurting.”
He doesn’t have anything to say to that, because it’s true. He’s not just hurting, he’s aching with everything that’s going on inside his head right now. It feels like bruises have formed behind his eyes and his lungs are filled with rocks. He’s exhausted. He hasn’t eaten anything today. He doesn’t know how much time has passed before Atsumu surprises him, breaking the quiet between them.
“My contract is up for renegotiation at the end of the season, and the Adler’s have been hunting Omi fer years now. With Tobio in Italy fer another season we might be able to swing a two-fer-one deal or somethin’.”
“What are ya talking about?”
“I’m saying that we can leave the Jackals, Samu.”
“Now yer bein’ an idiot, ya can’t leave the Jackals.”
He’d been with Atsumu when he’d gotten the call for the offer, back in their bunk beds in Hyogo. They hadn’t even graduated yet and MSBY had made the move to secure the number one setter in high school volleyball. Atsumu had held it together until he ended the call, before he laughed and sobbed so hard he couldn’t talk the next day. They were both so young.
He remembers watching his first game as a starter. How Atsumu had been all bravado the day-of, but that he, Osamu, was the only one who got to see the day before when Atsumu had shaken like a leaf.
He remembers when Atsumu called him after his first practice with ‘ Omi-Omi! Ya know him Samu, with the freaky wrists?! ’. He remembers when Atsumu hugged him tight after they won the championship over a year ago, and whispered in his ear, ‘ Guess what scrub? He proposed .’
“But, ya love the Jackals. They’re yer life.”
“I do, but I love ya more, and life changes. We could help out Okaa-san if we lived in Tokyo, she’s gettin’ older and I know it’s been worryin’ Omi.”
He doesn’t even know what to say at this point. Everything inside him is screaming for an answer and all he can offer is silence. Thankfully, that’s what twin telepathy is for.
“Go have a shower, then we’re going to the clinic.”
“We were safe Tsumu. Just don’t know what happened earlier in the night.”
“I’m not riskin’ it Samu, and ya forget who I’m married too.” He wiggles the hand with the ring shining on it, “We’re going to the clinic, it’ll be fun. It’s Omi’s second favourite thing to do, right after-”
“Don’t say it.”
“-eatin’ my ass fer breakfast.” He shoves him hard into his chest and Atsumu falls back cackling, before yelping loud as he topples off the mattress and falls in a heap on the floor.
He hates his brothers so much. (But he loves them even more.)
He smiles.
---in another part of town---
Shuugo’s head hurts like a motherfucker, and based on who he’s seeing outside his door, it’s not about to get any better.
“You know why I’m here.” It’s not a question. Though he had actually expected Atsumu, but the sight of Kiyoomi snapping medical gloves on, mouth hidden by one of his masks, eyes not even looking at him, is not altogether surprising.
“Yup.” He blinks in the sunlight, the hangover still stinging behind his eyes. This surely won’t help, but it’s what he deserves so he isn’t going to fight it. “Ya wanna do this inside?”
“No, I’m not stepping inside your fucking house, Meian.” Ouch. He hasn’t been ‘Meian’ to Kiyoomi for a long time. And no honorific. He deserves that too. “Grab your wallet, put on a jacket, you’re coming with me.”
Oh shit. The jokes were right. Sakusa is going to murder him, then dispose his body in a way which ensures he is never found.
Well.
He might deserve that as well.
“Hurry up. I’ll be waiting by my car.” Then, he turns and stalks back down the hallway to the elevator, but he doesn’t miss the final warning. “You have 5 minutes before I take drastic measures.”
He makes quick work of brushing his teeth, throwing on a jacket, and grabbing his wallet. He doesn’t know what he’s preparing for or where they’re going, but he’s going to find out whether he likes it or not.
Kiyoomi is leaning against his car, tapping his foot, hands clenching when he approaches.
“Okay, so where are we-”
THUD
Oh. That’s why he wore gloves, is what he thinks as he drops to the concrete from the force of the punch by one of the V.League’s top hitters.
He blinks into the sunlight, head definitely pounding harder than before. He brings a hand to his jaw, it’s definitely going to bruise, but he’s pretty sure it’s still attached, which is nice. For however much his jaw hurts, the pain in his chest is far greater.
“Get up and get in the car.” It’s not a question, and he hears Kiyoomi already opening the passenger side door. “There’s sanitizer in the cup holder, use it.”
He has no choice but to comply, and no will to disobey. He climbs in and finds the sanitizer.
“We’re going to Atsumu and I’s doctor. I am getting my hand checked, he’s going to look at your jaw, then he’s going to screen you for STI’s. He knows to expect us.” It’s curt and it makes sense.
“Thanks.”
“It’s not for you.”
“I know.”
“And if I find out you’ve given something to my brother, I promise you-” They’re somehow stopped at a red light so Kiyoomi is able to look away from the road and look him straight in the eye. He would think it was planned if he was with a more whimsical man. “-you will wish you had never heard the name Miya Kiyoomi.”
The rest of the ride is spent in utter silence, leaving Shuugo to drown in a hazy string of memories he’s been sifting through since he got back to his apartment this morning. They had started to come into focus when he checked his phone as he waited for his kettle to boil back in his own apartment. The most recent text had been a series of texts from Shion,
FROM: SHION INUNAKI
>> hey hoping ure still alive and u just passed out
>> but itd be nice to get some confirmation?
>> thought you were looking a bit better buuuuut ???
TO: SHION INUNAKI:
<< Hey, yeah, I'm all good. Very hungover, but good.
FROM: SHION INUNAKI
>> oh thank god
>> man u went hard
>> but like
>> r u okay?
But checking the history from the night before, he remembered other things.
FROM: SHION INUNAKI
>> budddyyyyyy u gotta come out tonight
>> u never come out anymoe :(
>> *more
>> ure hurting my feeeeelings
>> ill make it worth it for u >:)
>> but not like that
>> like i love u like a bro
>> but i can FIND you a madame or bro or nb ho
>> if you want me too
>>...
>>...?
>> im a good wingman
>> right?
>> shuu u have to respond
>> MEIAN? I AM GOOD WINGMAN YES?
TO: SHION INUNAKI
<< Hi yes, here.
FROM: SHION INUNAKI
>>hes aliiiiiiiive
>> what do uy say? come out?
And really, what was the harm of going out? It wasn’t like he had any plans tonight, or any night. And if he was reading things right, Osamu was going to be off limits again any day now. Fucking Suna Rintarou. He couldn’t blame him, they weren’t anything real. The thought drove something sad and deep into his chest, and that feeling took control of his fingers.
TO: SHION INUNAKI
<< Sure.
FROM: SHION INUNAKI
>> (airhorn gif)
>> YEHAW BUDDY
>> IM GETTING U DRUNK AND LAID
TO: SHION INUNAKI
<< Just drunk please.
<< For real. No wingmanaki tonight.
FROM: SHION INUNAKI
>> ...
>> well be still my beating heart this is new
>> u sure?
TO: SHION INUNAKI:
>> Positive.
He had pieced together the images that popped into colour in his mind from the night before. Bright lights, laughing with Inunaki and Thomas as they sat at the bar.
Dancing was fun. He liked dancing, even if he was objectively 'bad at it'. But this woman who had wrapped herself around him had thought he was quite good. And her hair. It was so dark. A little long, and it smelled a little off. He wished it smelt like spearmint shampoo or the musk from an 11 hour day in a restaurant. Maybe that was gross, but it was what he wanted, not this fruity and dance-sweat scent he tasted.
Tasted.
Wait, what?
Ouch. Claws.
Oh, there's a tongue in his mouth, and nails on his back. When did they get under his shirt?
"Woah now you two, there might be camera's here." Hands pulling him away, the girls face is pretty, but very confused at the man getting between them. "Shuu, you with me?"
"Shion! My buddy!" Shion's awesome. He's so fun. He should be having more fun right now, like Shuugo! It'd be more fun if Osamu was here though. He's the most fun. He always laughs the most when they get to hang out. Why aren't they hanging out right now?
"Yeah man, it's me, Shion. Remember what you said earlier today?"
No, he can not, and that's funny, so he laughs.
"No I do not."
"Okay, well, you might not remember but I'm going to keep you honest so you don't kick my ass tomorrow. Let's get you home." Home's no fun, and it's lonely at home. It's not even a home , it's an apartment, an empty one. "I'm gonna grab you some water, can you wait right here and call a cab for us? Thomas is staying longer."
Water helps. He hadn't realized the room had been spinning until it started to slow down. They climb into a cab, Shion holding tight to his shoulders even though he doesn't really need it anymore. Shion's place is closer and he gives him a hard look.
"Promise me you're not going to pass out in a ditch if I leave you alone."
"Cross my heart." And Shion gives him a hard look before deciding it’s okay to leave him to get home in the cab by himself. As he shuts the door behind him, the driver leans back and asks for his address.
But why go to his apartment when he can go to the place he's been thinking about, and the person he's been imagining, this whole night?
He gives him Osamu’s address.
And then it’s just flashes, like flipping through a photo album too quickly. There are those warm hands on his skin, a soothing balm to whatever that pain on his back is. Crinkled eyes that are smiling so softly in the light of the one lamp they always leave on. The sound of a groaned, I love ya, and gods, that’s his voice isn’t it? That’s Shuugo that’s put it out there in those hours between the dead of night and early morning.
But that was all last night.
Today, he sits in the passenger seat of one of his friends, who probably will never return the sentiment again, nursing a sore jaw and an even worse off heart. Maybe his back stings, but the worst thing he’s felt all day was the look on Osamu’s face when he saw the marks.