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Osamu is so going to murder Atsumu for this.
But maybe he should rewind a bit.
It all started when his dear traitor of a brother got a part-time job as an entertainer for children's birthday parties a few weeks ago. Everything was going great for him; the pay was good, and Atsumu would always adore the children he'd play games and eat cake with, although the kids did get a little too attached to the tall, handsome guy underneath the clown suit.
Atsumu never seemed to mind the fact he had to dress up as a clown for his job, which was fine. Osamu doesn't judge.
That is, until yesterday, when Atsumu nearly begged Osamu to take his place, because he apparently had scored a date with this literature major he'd been crushing on for months now, Sakusa Kiyoomi, and Osamu was supposedly the only person he could turn to for help. Despite his dickwad of a brother being close with quite literally everyone in college.
"Please, ‘Samu," Atsumu had pleaded, stooping low enough to drop down on his knees as he clutched at Osamu’s hands. "It's only for a day. And what's so bad ‘bout dressing up as a clown for a couple of hours?"
"I don't know!" Osamu had exclaimed, sighing exasperatedly as he tried to break free from Atsumu’s grasp. The guy had literal hands of iron, what the fuck. "What if someone from campus sees me? What if the kids don't like me? What if-"
"’Samu," Atsumu interrupted, like the rude bitch he is. "It's a child's birthday party. Why would anyone from campus be there? And even if someone does miraculously happen to be present, you'll have enough makeup on to cover up yer face. So please say you'll cover for me? Please?"
Osamu was definitely not reassured with the fact he'd have clown makeup on, complete with a wig and a red foam nose to go with it, judging from what he'd seen so far. But Atsumu was giving him those puppy eyes, and he knows how long his brother had waited to go out with Sakusa, so like a fool, Osamu complied.
The next day, after Atsumu gave him clear instructions on what to do and what to say, he dropped Osamu off to the party venue and helped him put on the most abominable clown costume Osamu had ever laid eyes on, then immediately drove off, happily whistling as Osamu was left alone in the spacious hall to fend for himself and his dignity.
He then decided to run off and hide in the extremely dingy bathroom, reading and rereading his script because the guests wouldn't arrive for another hour. He found it quite hard to focus though, because a mirror was right in front of him and he looked downright stupid like this.
Before leaving, Atsumu had shoved on this absolutely hideous rainbow-colored wig on his head, coloring Osamu’s entire face stark white as he painted blue diamonds on the skin around his eyes and plastered bright red lipstick all over Osamu’s poor lips. Not to mention, his brother had handed him a vivid yellow jumper, atrocious multicolored suspenders to go with it, and a pair of gigantic red shoes. Atsumu must have been too excited for his stupid date to even make fun of him for how he looks, and Osamu counts it as the small mercies in life. Still, Osamu was just about to sell his soul to the devil if it meant getting out of this predicament when his phone buzzed, lighting up to show a text message from Atsumu himself.
Today 2:46 pm
bitch
> hey samu !! the family of the kid who's having her bday are on their way right now so pls introduce yourself !! have fun :))
Osamu had rolled his eyes, shutting off his phone as he inwardly groaned, before walking out to meet whoever's about to pay him. At least he's getting paid, which made his plight the tiniest bit more bearable.
So here he is now, in front of the birthday kid's family, Atsumu’s name taking the number one and only spot on his hit list.
"This is my daughter, Suna Reiko," the mom is telling him, smiling down at the girl beside her, a little kid with messy brown hair, bright eyes and an even brighter smile. "She’s turned 5 today, but I'm sure you already know that," she says with a chuckle, continuing to introduce herself and her husband.
Osamu introduces himself too, trying for a friendly smile. Before he can stop himself however, his gaze flickers to the strangely familiar-looking boy loitering a few feet behind the family, back turned to them and face buried under a textbook, muttering to himself as he runs a hand through his brown hair, patting down the few strands sticking out at the top.
The girl’s mother doesn't fail to notice this, turning around to see what he's looking at before flashing Osamu a tight-lipped smile. "That's my son, Suna Rintarou. He's got some big test tomorrow, so please excuse him if he, um, seems a little out of it,” she explains with a light sigh.
Osamu nods, assuring her that it's okay, but he can't deny the way his heart plummets before leaping back up again to beat rapidly, because that's Suna Rintarou . Osamu must have the worst luck in the world, because what were the odds?
Suna Rintarou, the guy in Osamu’s year who he's been pining over ever since he first saw the other boy play for a volleyball match against a neighbouring school. Suna, who's smart and attractive and athletic and has the prettiest eyes Osamu’s ever seen. Suna, who's wearing a simple denim jacket over a white shirt and black jeans yet somehow looking so goddamn attractive is standing right there in all his irresistible glory, and Osamu’s dressed as a clown.
Osamu’s already wondering where to hide Atsumu’s dead body.
Glancing up at the mention of his name, Suna frowns at them, and Osamu feels his heart stop at the way he stares at him for a second too long, before going back to his textbook. Osamu breathes out a tiny sigh of relief. After all, there's no way he can recognize Osamu with all this makeup on.
Right?
An hour later, once the opening remarks are said and all the guests have finished presenting their greetings and wishes for the birthday girl, the host announces how it's time for 'Mr. Clown' to introduce the games, with every child in the hall erupting into deafening whoops of joy. This is Osamu’s cue to go, and he's currently sweating buckets.
Trying fervently to calm his nerves, he walks out and beams down at the abundance of children, all of them practically vibrating with excitement. Osamu’s surprised none of them ran away screaming or burst into tears when they saw him; that's how ugly this costume is.
He doesn’t know how his brother manages to do this three times a week. He doesn’t think he wants to know.
"Hiya, kids!" he says into the microphone, hoping to radiate that air of shameless confidence his brother always has. His voice ends up cracking in the middle of it though, because, you know, fate hates him that way. From the corner of his eye, he sees Suna snort loudly from where he's seated on one of the front tables, and Osamu feels a hot flush blossom on his cheeks.
Thank God for clown makeup, he thinks bitterly.
He continues on to propose the games that were planned, giving out gifts and goody bags to each and every kid, regardless if they won or not. Osamu definitely doesn't want a room full of raging 5 year olds. He already deals with Atsumu on a daily basis, after all.
Every so often, his gaze would deviate towards Suna. The first time, he catches the other boy staring back at him, only for Suna to look away when their eyes meet, his cheeks quickly turning a pretty shade of pink. The second time Osamu glances at him, a tiny smile was already playing at his lips, and Osamu has never wanted to kiss anyone so much in all his life.
The third time, just now actually, Osamu swears with his whole heart that Suna had pointedly winked at him, and at this point Osamu’s starting to panic.
There's no way Suna would recognize him; they barely know each other, only bumping into each other a couple of times on campus. (Osamu is entirely to blame for all this — he'd desperately hoped for some sort of romantic, heart-fluttering moment where the two of them accidentally brush hands, looking away as matching blushes appear on both their cheeks. But so far all he got was a mumbled 'sorry' from the other boy, who quickly scurried off to his class before Osamu could utter a single word.)
Unless...
For the briefest of moments, Osamu wonders if Suna has a clown kink of some sort, before brushing the thought aside because literally what the fuck.
Eventually, all the games ended, the majority of the kids fighting to take a picture with Osamu, and now it was time for Suna’s sister to cut the cake and open her gifts, several dishes being served for all the guests. In other words, it's finally time for Osamu to take off this awful disguise and bolt towards the exits, having already received his payment a few minutes before.
Escaping back towards the bathroom, he closes the door shut behind him. Call him paranoid or whatever, but getting caught without the costume on really isn't on his agenda.
He takes off the wig first, then changes back into his normal clothes, before proceeding to wipe off the horrendous makeup splattered all over his face. It takes him longer than expected, but he finally gets most of it removed and is just about to finish packing up when he hears the door click open.
Osamu feels his heart drop to the floor.
Slowly turning around to meet his tragic demise, he sees — Christ, the world really is against him — Suna, looking unfairly hot as he smirks down at him, arms crossed as he leans on the doorway. A blush starts to form at the base of Osamu’s neck, creeping up to the very tips of his ears, and Osamu feels his cheeks flame up.
"May I help ya?" he squeaks out, wanting nothing more but to smack his head against the wall. The smile on Suna’s face only continues to grow, and Osamu is a second away from jumping off the bathroom window.
"Hi, Miya," Suna says, casual, as if he didn't just catch Osamu red-handed as the fucking clown in his 5 year old sister’s birthday party. And yet, Osamu’s face turns a darker shade of red, because, oh God, Suna knows his name.
He doesn't realize he's accidentally said it out loud until Suna raises an eyebrow, making his way towards Osamu until he's merely a few centimeters away. Osamu swears Suna had swayed his hips a little. "Well of course I'd know who you are," Suna grins, a sparkle in his eyes as he looks up at him. "After all, I'd be an idiot if I didn't ask around for information about the cute boy with gray hair and a questionable amount of onigiri-themed clothes who kept purposely knocking into me in the halls."
Oh sweet, sweet Lord, calm his pounding heart.
Suna just called him cute. Suna has noticed what kind of clothes he wears. Suna called him out for crashing into him multiple times a week. Suna knows him.
Osamu nearly faints on the spot.
"You- I- Wait-" Sucking in a deep breath, Osamu clears his throat. It's way too early for Suna to see him as the disastrous panicky mess that he is. "How did ya even know it was me?"
Suna shrugs, his cheeks tinting the slightest shade of pink. "Honestly? I'd recognize that Kansai accent anywhere. And I knew it wasn’t your brother - his is more obnoxious.” Winking, Suna adds, “Don’t tell him I said that.”
Osamu swallows. "I must be pathetic, because that's literally the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me."
Suna bursts into laughter at this, the sound loud and melodious, with the most endearing expression on his stupid pretty face. All Osamu can do is stare, and he thinks he’s actually about to die because he can feel his brain malfunctioning and his bones turning to jelly.
"So, uh," Suna starts again, clearly trying to regain his composure. But Osamu can still see the way his lips twitch upwards, and he mentally pats himself on the back for somehow making him laugh.
"Do you like, wanna leave this party or something?" Suna asks, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders, and, fucking hell, Osamu can feel his face turn scarlet at the simple question. Because he's dumb like that.
"But… this is your sister’s party," Osamu says carefully, and Suna quirks an eyebrow at him, a teasing grin on those damned beautiful lips.
"I did tell my parents I have some big important test tomorrow, so I've got permission to leave early," Suna tells him, and before Osamu could even react, Suna quickly reaches out for his hand and laces their fingers together, holding their now-connected hands in front for Osamu to see. "Let's go, shall we?"
For one hot second, Osamu wonders how much more he could possibly take before his face explodes.
He's still wondering this when Suna drags him towards the back exit and across the street, with Osamu merely following in a daze. Once they're a good few metres away from the venue and out into the lamplit streets, Osamu releases a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"Can ya explain a few things to me please?" he asks, his voice coming out whinier than he hoped for, and Suna turns to look at him. "What's goin’ on exactly?"
Suna stares at him for a moment, before letting out a tiny laugh of amusement. "Do I have to spell it out for you?" he asks, and Osamu’s left dumbfounded because why is Suna looking at him like that and making his heart go absolutely haywire. Holy fuck, is he wearing eyeliner? "I think you're cute, and I'm pretty sure you think I'm cute too considering all those things your twin told me, and I want to know you better."
Twin?
"Oh my God," Osamu mutters breathlessly, and he sees Suna eyeing him as realization finally dawns on his face. "Has ‘Tsumu been telling ya things about me? What- How- When did you guys even-"
"Osamu," Suna cuts in, and Osamu feels his breath catch in his throat because this is literally the first time Suna’s ever called him by his first name. "That doesn't matter, okay? You do like me, right?"
Osamu nods, a blush obvious on his cheeks, and Suna nearly beams at him. "Okay. Good. I like you too, in case you haven't noticed. Do you wanna like, get different flavored slushies and see what happens when we mix them together?"
Eyes widening at what the question implies — and he's sure Suna’s aware of it too; he's wearing a playful smile that makes Osamu go completely apeshit feral — he swallows down his nervousness, connects their hands back together and lets Suna lead the way, pretending there isn't a stupid smile plastered on his face.
Perhaps he'll let Atsumu live after all.
When Osamu comes home that night, much later than he had originally planned, Atsumu is already there, smirking up at him as he looks up from his phone.
“So?” he asks. His grin only grows wider when Osamu scowls down at him. “How’d yer little date with Suna go?”
“Great, actually,” is Osamu’s simple reply. Atsumu shakes his head in disapproval.
“Are you not gonna thank me, ‘Samu? You don’t know how tirin ’ it was hearing you bitch and moan about yer feelings for the guy. I should be rewarded for my efforts.”
And, oh, there it is. Osamu changes his mind again. His brother is still as infuriating as ever, and he might actually commit a murder if Atsumu keeps smirking condenscendingly at him like that, but he thinks back to Suna’s lips against his and the way he gasped when Osamu felt bold enough to run a tentative sweep of his tongue across Rin's bottom lip, and Osamu sighs.
“Ya know what, ‘Tsumu?” he says, turning to his brother. “Thanks.”
The shocked look on Atsumu’s face is compensation enough, and that night, Osamu dreams of hands worn from volleyball, pretty green eyes, and the bashful lilt of Rin’s laugh.