Chapter Text
Even with the sound of voices from a group call he’s only half listening to, the sound of his wall clock proves to be noticeable. Resting his chin on his palm, Keiji absentmindedly taps the fingers of his other hand on the desk, accompanying the ticks and tocks of the clock until he hears someone call for him.
“Oi Keiji, are you still drowning yourself in work?” Konoha’s voice asks through Keiji’s laptop. He doesn’t know how he suddenly became the topic of the conversation when it was about a viral video of puppies licking peanut butter moments ago. But it’s something his friend always asks him, so he isn’t entirely surprised at the question.
Before Keiji could reply, another person had joined in the video call. “I’m sorry I’m late! Had to do something for work! What are we talking about?” Komi hastily asks as soon as he successfully connects to the call.
Keiji hears different voices speak all at the same time, that he isn’t able to understand anything at all anymore. “We’re talking about Akaashi’s unhealthy overworking tendencies,” Sarukui announces, as soon as the others had finished their greetings for their friend.
Keiji sighs, and says, “I don’t overwork anymore, and yes, Bokuto-san, I always make sure to take the rest I need.” Bokuto opens, but quickly closes his mouth, clearly already content with Keiji’s answer.
“Keiji, you should take care of yourself more,” Washio utters, concern apparent on his face, even though Keiji can only see him pixelated on his laptop screen.
“Maybe all Keiji needs is someone who will look after him! Like a boyfriend!” Bokuto exclaims, with his fists in the air.
Konoha snorts, but agrees nonetheless. “Yes, Keiji, you absolutely need a boyfriend,” he says in an annoyingly sweet tone that makes Keiji cringe.
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” he responds flatly. “I don’t need anyone.”
“But Keijiiiii,” Bokuto whines. “You’re all lonely there, and you need to socialize more!”
“I’m not lonely,” Keiji says confidently, because it’s true. He’s just busy, and probably tired, but not lonely.
Keiji had already anticipated this conversation, and he’s all the more ready to listen to his friends pester him about his lovelife, or lack thereof. Then again, it’s because this always happens every time he and his friends get together or during their video calls, whenever all of them are too busy to actually meet up in person.
He loves his friends, he really does, but he hates how they assume that the solution to everything is having a boyfriend. It’s not like his problems would go away if he finds himself one. What’s worse is half of his high school friends are single much like himself, so he doesn’t understand why he gets picked at the most. He settles on the thought that maybe it’s because he’s the youngest, and that all of them are doting senpais.
All his friends’ conversations are quickly interrupted by Hinata, who barges into Bokuto’s room. “Meian-san finished making the mochis already! We’re gonna watch a movie and —” he halts when he realizes Bokuto is on call, and everyone’s attention is on him. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn't know you were busy! anyway, we’ll be in the common room — and hello Akaashi-san, and others!” he calls out before disappearing behind the door. Keiji considers Hinata as his saviour tonight for putting a stop to his friends’ nonsense.
Bokuto looks like he was deliberating whether to keep chatting with them, or join in on his teammates’ bonding. Konoha seems to notice it too, and says, “Go ahead, Bokuto. I have to reply to some emails before I go to sleep.”
“Yeah, and it’s getting pretty late anyway,” Komi says while yawning.
Keiji glances at the wall clock in his bedroom, and sees that it’s already half past twelve. He still wants to talk a bit more with his friends, but he just got saved from another troublesome interrogation, so he won’t let this situation pass. “You go on ahead and spend time with your other friends, Bokuto-san.”
“Are you guys sure?” Bokuto asks, looking dejected. They all respond with a chorus of affirmations, which instantly makes Bokuto feel relieved. “Okay, see you all soon!”
The call ended immediately after saying their farewells, and a promise of meeting up in person soon when they’re all available.
Keiji’s sitting down on his bed, back resting against the headboard, with only the lamp on his bedside table as a source of light, as he catches up on the book he’s reading. At least, that’s what he initially intended to do, but is currently failing at it.
He’s getting distracted by his thoughts that he can no longer understand what he’s reading. It may or may not be due to his conversation with his friends earlier, but he decides he should analyze it right away before he dwells too much, so he can focus on more important things.
Putting down his book on his bedside table, he thinks about why his friends even nag him in the first place. Keiji’s sure they mean well, and are only looking out for him, but sometimes it’s a little too much. He assumes that the main cause is probably his most previous relationship back when he had just graduated from university, and was already an apprentice editor at the same company he’s working at now. But that was almost 2 years ago.
Keiji had dated some guy he met at his college library, and he thought it was romantic, which it was, until the guy had cheated on him for a model. What’s worse is he caught them having sex at his own apartment days before their anniversary. Keiji stayed at Kenma’s for a while before moving into a new apartment. He didn’t say anything to his ex anymore, he just simply left.
For months Keiji would overwork himself, leaving work at a ridiculous time, choosing overtime as his way to cope, to forget, and to ignore the pain. He acted like everything was fine, and would skip meals simply because he wasn’t feeling hungry, reasoning that he was too busy anyway. His friends wouldn’t have known about that if he weren’t rushed to the hospital.
Maybe those incidents are what lead his friends to be persistent in asking about his personal life. They want to keep watching over him because they worry about him, and they don’t want to see Keiji’s weak body lying on a hospital bed again. They simply want him to be happy and well.
Keiji rubs his eyes after removing his glasses, setting them down beside his book. He closes the lamp and lays down on his bed. He thinks of how far he’s come, and how he learned from the past. It doesn’t hurt him anymore, and he’s not bitter at love or anything like that. He’s happy and content with his life at the moment, so he’s sure he doesn’t need a partner.
He sighs as he shifts his body and turns to the side. Keiji thinks he should find a way to convince his friends to stop, but he still doesn’t know how. He’ll figure something out soon. But for now, rest. Keiji makes himself feel comfortable, and drifts off to sleep.
Osamu furrows his brows and stares at his idiot of a brother who’s ordering another bucket of beer despite having promised that they’d only drink a bottle or two. He only agreed to go in the first place because Atsumu said they’ll only be out for a while. Also because he hasn’t seen his twin for a whole month, and he did kind of miss him. Not that he’d admit that to Atsumu’s face.
People are starting to multiply, and the small bar they are at is getting more cramped by the minute, irritating the hell out of Osamu. “‘Tsumu, ya said we’d be home by 11,” he tries to say in the calmest tone he can. “It’s almost 1 and yer still orderin’ more drinks.”
“Don’t be so boring, ‘Samu!” Atsumu cheers. “I know ya don’t go out as much as ya used to, so I came t’help. Ya can thank me later.”
“I hav’ta open the shop later, and I have a few hours left to sleep,” Osamu explains, trying to make his sibling understand.
“But it’s a Saturday,” Atsumu says, looking at him skeptically.
Osamu smacks his twin on the head and says, “D’ya think people don’t get hungry during weekends? Dumbass.”
“Oi that hurt!” the other man says as he rubs the part where he had been hit. “Yer literally the owner! Ya can just call a day off whenever ya want.”
Osamu rolls his eyes, debating on whether or not he should just leave Atsumu by himself, and go home. “I like workin’, and I enjoy makin’ food.”
The waiter sets down a new bucket of beer on their table, and the both of them mutter their thanks. “I know, but ya gotta remember ya have a life outside work too, y’know,” Atsumu says, after the waiter left.
Osamu had heard this countless times already, as well as all the variations of the phrase ‘Have fun and live a little.’ He isn’t miserable at all, so he doesn’t need to hear that. In fact, he enjoys his job, the kitchen always makes him feel like he’s in the right place, and he takes pride and joy in seeing people happy because of the food he made with his own hands.
“I have a life outside work,” he mumbles.
“Yeah right,” Atsumu scoffs, and opens two bottles, offering one to Osamu, who glared at him before taking it. “Look, all I’m saying is yer still young! And yer hair’s gonna go naturally grey if ya don’t relax.”
“If my hair ever goes gray, it’ll be because of you,” Osamu replies sternly since Atsumu’s acting like he’s much older than him, when in fact they literally only have a difference of three minutes.
Atsumu laughs, and takes a sip from his bottle. “Want me to set ya up with someone new?”
There it is again. Another one of Atsumu’s attempts on finding him a partner. He doesn’t understand why his brother’s so determined on this matter. He’s perfectly fine on his own, so why would he even need someone else?
“No! Mind yer own fucking lovelife,” Osamu responds with a scowl. “I told ya to stop setting me up on dates or whatever. M’not interested.”
“C’mon, at least go and enjoy the date. Oh, and I do have a lovelife, ‘Samu. Because I’m in a relationship.”
“Do ya want me to congratulate ya?”
Atsumu lets out a chuckle. “Look around ya, idiot. There are at least four people in here checkin’ ya out.”’
“I don’t care,” Osamu says, bringing his drink near his mouth.
“How ‘bout that pretty girl over there? Or that dude with nice arms? I can be yer wingman.”
“Like I said, I don’t care. Now can ya please shut the fuck up?”
“If ya don’t stop actin’ like that, I ain’t gonna stop being on yer business.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being alone,” Osamu groans, tapping his fingers on the beer bottle.
“I never said there was! Just let yerself be happy with things other than yer job. And for fuck’s sake, let people take care of ya!”
“Fine, whatever,” Osamu sighs, deciding he should just pretend to agree so Atsumu can stop yapping.
“Good, thank you. Now that wasn’t so bad, wasn’t it?” his brother asks, grinning smugly.
Osamu looks at him disgustingly before taking another drink. “So, where’s Sakusa anyway?”
“He’s with Motoya right now, probably drinking tea or something like that.” Atsumu waves his hands off, dismissing Osamu’s question like it’s irrelevant. “Anyway, have I told ya about that time when Omi and I went to the zoo?”
Osamu shakes his head, so Atsumu goes on with his story. Truthfully, Atsumu did tell him about it already over a phone call the previous week. But Atsumu looks so happy every time he talks about his boyfriend, and Osamu likes seeing his brother happy.
He’s also grateful for the rambling, so Atsumu can stop talking as if Osamu’s distressed.
Osamu had just finished helping Atsumu to bed in the spare bedroom he has in his apartment, and was finally inside his own room. He flops onto his bed and groans, feeling both exhausted and overwhelmed.
On their way home, Atsumu kept drunkenly spouting phrases of gibberish that were incomprehensible. But Atsumu, almost in tears, kept mumbling how much he loves Osamu, and he doesn’t want to see him lonely.
Osamu understands that Atsumu only wants to see him happy, but he already is, and it’s frustrating how his own twin can’t understand that. Instead of actually listening to Osamu, Atsumu decides he knows better than him, and keeps setting him up on pointless dates. Models who only like him for his looks, his brothers’ acquaintances, rich bachelors, and other kinds of people Osamu didn’t even bother to remember.
All the people Atsumu had set up with him just didn’t feel right. He tried, he really did, but no one ever really caught his attention to the point that he wanted to see them another time. Osamu chooses to be single because he doesn’t feel anything wrong about it. He’s perfectly pleased where he is right now.
He takes a look at his phone to check the time, and sees that it’s already half past three in the morning. Osamu tucks himself in bed, and decides to take a day off, so he could enjoy the weekend with his stupid twin. A little rest wouldn’t hurt, anyway.
In the end, Osamu’s still grateful for Atsumu and the way he shows how much he cares; but he does need to find a way to make his brother stop randomly throwing people at him. That’s going to be a problem for another time. For now, he lets his exhaustion and sleepiness take over him.
A fierce sound of thunder grumbled immediately after a flash of lightning, and raindrops suddenly poured without any other warning. Keiji hurriedly runs to the nearest convenience store to buy an umbrella, tugging his bag inside his coat so it wouldn’t get wet.
Taking a look outside the store, new umbrella in hand, he spots a familiar shop just a few steps down the street. Keiji checks his watch, and decides he could spare a few minutes to stop by and grab a bite of his favorite onigiri before going home.
“Welcome! Please give me a second!” a voice calls out as soon as he steps inside the warm establishment. The smell of rice and newly made tea surrounds him as he places his coat and umbrella by the racks available. He chooses to sit by the counter, seeing as he’s the only patron. He drops his bag on the stool beside him and fiddles with his fingers as he waits.
“Oh, hey ‘Kaashi-kun,” someone says, and Keiji looks up to see Miya smiling at him. “Sorry, I had to take a call.”
“Good evening, Miya-san. It’s no problem,” Keiji greets with a polite smile.
“So what’ll it be for tonight?” Miya asks as he washes his hands.
“Just two salted salmon, please.”
“Sure, it’ll be ready in a bit.”
Keiji busies himself with his phone, casually glancing at Miya as he prepares his order. It amazes Keiji how swift the chef’s movements are, like it’s already second nature to him. He’s always been fascinated by the movements of hands, and how they work. The display before him makes him realize how different Miya's hands in action move compared to other people’s. It looks more like setting a volleyball, Keiji thinks. Gentle and firm. Precise and confident.
“Here ya go,” Miya says, breaking Keiji’s trance, and pushes a plate in front of the editor. “And these,” he places a paper bag with an Onigiri Miya logo near the plate, “are for later.”
“I didn’t order those,” Keiji replies, eyeing the bag.
“I know, but it’s on the house.” Miya shrugs when Keiji looks at him instead. “Haven’t seen ya in here for a while now. Just take it.”
“Thank you,” Keiji says after nodding in understanding.
“Yer welcome,” Miya replies, sounding pleased.
Keiji takes a bite from his Onigiri, and mumbles, “So delicious.”
This makes Miya chuckle, crossing his arms as he watches Keiji, but doesn’t say anything more, like he was expecting that reaction.
“You know,” Keiji starts, and takes a sip from the glass of water before continuing, “I still come here, but only during lunch. I sometimes see you preparing orders, so I decide not to bother you.”
“Oh?” Miya says, taking a seat parallel to Keiji. “Why didn’t ya say hi?”
Keiji snorts, and takes another bite. “I just said the reason, didn’t I? You were busy, and I was worried I’d be impolite if I did.”
“You? impolite? I don’t think that’ll ever happen,” Miya says playfully.
The editor puts his food down and clasps his hands together, resting his chin on top of them, and replies, “I just might surprise you, Miya-san.”
Miya smirks, looking intrigued and amused. “Really?” he asks, leaning forward, and Keiji raises an eyebrow. “Well then, go on and surprise me, Fukurodani Setter.”
Keiji was about to reply when a phone started ringing, making the both of them jolt in surprise, bringing them back to reality.
Miya grabs the phone in his pockets, and angrily presses the screen. “The fuck do ya want now?!”
Muffled shouting can be heard from the phone call, and Keiji supposes it’s Atsumu at the other end. He shoves down the onigiri into his mouth, pretending not to eavesdrop.
He glances up to Miya again, and sees that the other man has his eyes shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose. The chef sighs, removing the phone from his ears, and ends the call.
“Was that Atsumu-san?”
“Yeah, he was — wait, why do ya call him by his first name but still call me ‘Miya-san’ ?”
“He kept forcing me.” Keiji shrugs. “It got annoying, so I decided I should just do as he says.”
Miya snorts. “Yeah, he would definitely do that.”
“So, what did he want?” Keiji asks as he dabs his lips with tissue.
“He’s been bothering me the whole day,” Miya groans, slouching a bit as he runs his hand through his hair. “He wants to set me up on another date with someone. I’ve told him dozens of times I wasn’t interested, but he just doesn’t fucking listen.”
Keiji lets out a small laugh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just that I kind of understand you, in a way.”
“Why? Does my brother set you up with people, too?” Miya asks, brows furrowing.
“No,” Keiji replies. “But my friends are equally annoying. They keep bothering me about dating, even though I keep saying I don’t want or need to.”
“It’s irritating, isn’t it?” Miya sighs as he covers his face with his palm, and Keiji hums in agreement. “Fuck, I wish there was a way to shut him up.”
“Yeah,” Keiji responds, scrunching his nose as he remembers the contents of their group chat the night before. They were trying to persuade Keiji that he should try installing tinder, but Keiji outright refused. “I wish I could make up a name and tell my friends that’s who I’m dating.”
“Yeah, or like a fake boyfriend or something,” Miya chuckles.
A few seconds of silence passes before Miya removes his hand from his face, and locks eyes with Keiji, who is also staring back at him with equal seriousness on his face.
“Wait, could you repeat that?” Keiji mutters.
“A fake boyfriend or something,” Miya mumbles back.
Another few seconds pass with the both of them gaping at each other before Keiji asks, “Miya-san, do you want to fake date me?” at the same time Miya says, “Akaashi-kun, please pretend to be my boyfriend.”