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Osamu never struggled with acceptance. He handled rejection perfectly well; too well that his twin, Atsumu, had doubted Osamu’s feelings for the people he had claimed to like or fall in love with. He never quite understood it either, but that was that. He knew his feelings were real, even if he moved past heartbreak fairly easily.
In his whole lifetime, he had only fallen in love with one person: Akaashi Keiji. It was a gradual fall, manifesting itself through skipping heartbeats and increasing pulses, stolen glances and erratic breaths, and abdominal hurricanes and thoracic inferno.
Loving Keiji was as easy as breathing, and it was probably why Osamu wasn’t the only one who held the same dizzying affection for the beautiful man.
Despite having been sucked into the whirlpool that was Keiji, Osamu still managed to come out mostly unscathed after his rejection. Mostly, because Osamu wasn’t that quick in accepting life’s lemons; he still mourned his heartbreak for a period of time—three weeks, if he could remember correctly.
And really, Osamu had moved past his failed first love, a painfully unrequited one at that, as Keiji, all those months ago, rejected Osamu for the fact that he was in love with someone else. The same someone he was approaching Osamu with in the middle of an almost empty grocery store.
And oh, what a bad coincidence this was. Because knowing Keiji, having been a close friend of his, Osamu knew that the guy still held a little bit of guilt in him for rejecting Osamu.
And he was right, because Keiji had an apologetic glint in his eyes when he looked at Osamu as he greeted him, his hand clasped around his boyfriend’s warm hand.
“Osamu-san, it’s been a while. How are you?”
“Myaa-sam! I missed you! I haven’t seen you since Tsum-Tsum’s surprise for Omi-kun,” said Koutarou, ever so enthusiastic.
Osamu chuckled. “Yeah, well.” He shrugged. “Been busy lately, preparing fer my restaurant an’ all,” he replied and gave them a genuine smile.
“Ooh! Tsum-Tsum did mention something about that. Promise you’ll let Keiji and I be one of your first customers!” Koutarou practically bounced from where he stood, his eyes blown and shining with utter excitement.
He noticed Keiji stare fondly at his lover, pure affection pouring from his eyes. He stared at Koutarou like he was the brightest star to ever grace the sky, glimmering with such beauty that one couldn’t help but silently admire.
Osamu smiled; he couldn’t compete with that, no one in that long line of admirers could ever compete with that.
“Of course,” he said. “I’ll reserve seats especially for you two.”
Keiji brought his gaze back to him. “That’s awfully nice of you, Osamu-san. Thank you.”
And there it was again, that shouldered guilt that Keiji still refused to let go of, one that he should never have had in the first place.
Preoccupied with how he was going to tell Keiji that everything was fine between them without explicitly telling him, in fear of creating a divide between a perfectly happy relationship, Osamu unconsciously agreed to whatever question Koutarou had popped.
“Where is he? I wanna meet him!”
Huh?
“Kou,” Keiji silently called, placing a delicate hand on Koutarou’s arm.
“Sorry, what did ya say?” Osamu asked, already somewhat recovered from his mild panic.
“Your boyfriend, silly! You told us that you’re with him.” Koutarou beamed at him.
Well, if Osamu was only mildly panicking earlier, he was severely panicking now. Because what the fuck did Koutarou say Osamu had?
Ignoring the loud pounding of his heart and the beads of sweat crowning his head, he replied, “Ah, yeah. Let me go find him.”
Now, Koutarou had just unconsciously offered Osamu a solution to his dilemma; but only if he would be able to find the solution to the new dilemma that he had also created.
With a push of his grocery cart and the couple following a few steps behind him, Osamu tried his luck in the next aisle. And the gods must have been on his side that day, because there, ten steps away from him, was a tall man browsing the snacks displayed. Judging from the way the man dressed, he was probably around the same age as him. Osamu hoped, at least.
With the fakest smile he could muster, Osamu said, “There he is.”
He never really cared for religion much, but if Shinsuke’s gods were real, then Osamu would like to apologize in advance for what he was about to do.
“Babe, hey, I’ve been lookin’ fer ya,” he said, the tremble in his voice barely noticeable.
When the man tilted to his side to face him and opened his mouth to reply, Osamu lifted himself up on the tip of his toes and whispered, “Please, just play along.”
He was met with a lopsided smile when he came back down to his normal height, and when he looked up, a set of striking green eyes—which reminded Osamu of a snake—was staring back at him.
“Sorry,” the man said before smiling at him and snaking an arm around his waist. “I was looking for that snack you’ve been talking about since yesterday. What was it again?”
Distracted by the warmth of the stranger’s body as he held Osamu flushed against him, Osamu blanked, his eyes fixed on the other’s. It was only when the man squeezed his waist lightly and bumped their noses together was Osamu grounded back to reality.
“Um, beef wasabi chips, I think,” he croaked out.
The man hummed. “Yeah, that.”
“I think that’s in two aisles down. Most of the ones here are candies and chocolates, I believe,” a voice informed from behind.
Osamu almost cursed out loud. How could he forget the reason why he was in this position in the first place?
“Babe, this is Keiji an’ Koutarou. My friends from college,” he introduced as he stood beside the stranger.
It was only then, when he properly took a glance at him, did Osamu notice a tattoo of a snake on his neck, the rest of its body hidden under his white shirt and leather jacket. The stranger looked nothing short of trouble, and it buzzed Osamu’s nerves in more ways than he would like to admit.
Ah, fuck, it looked like he had another dilemma: how in the world was he going to introduce his “boyfriend” when he had never seen this man in his entire life (a huge loss, really), and hadn’t even asked for his name before roping him into Osamu’s personal problems.
That’s fine, Osamu comforted himself, he could just make up a name. Something common like James, or fucking Adam. Or maybe he should go with something better, or maybe less Western. A traditional Japanese name, perhaps; one he had heard of before.
What was a name he heard from one of those anime he and Atsumu used to watch? He would have gone with the name of his first anime crush, but no sane person would actually name their kid, ‘Death the Kid,’ right?
Osamu decided to go with ‘Rukawa Kaede,’ for the sole reason that he couldn’t remember the first name of the main character in Slam Dunk. And he really had no time to search through every folder of the memories in his brain to find it. Time was of the essence in his situation.
“This is my boyfriend—”
“Suna Rintarou,” the stranger said as he smiled at the couple in front of him.
Well, at least Osamu got the ‘R’ correct.
Pretty name. Fitting.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you two meet?” Keiji, the ever romantic, asked.
Before Osamu could even utter a word, Rintarou replied, “Here, actually.”
Osamu blanched, head whipping towards Rintarou. Osamu was going to get exposed, he knew it. He was going to be humiliated by a stranger whose name he only came to know five seconds ago; and in the middle of aisle 8 at his local grocery, at that.
Rintarou laughed lightly as he looked at Osamu with a fond smile.
“Why are you looking at me like that, darling?” Fuck . “Did you really think I’d forget about that?”
He pressed his lips onto Osamu’s forehead lightly, and oh, Osamu was into this man’s dicksand. This man with the snake-like eyes, snake-tattooed neck, and snake-like grip on his waist.
“Sorry,” Rintarou addressed Keiji and Koutarou, “I’m a little forgetful, that’s why. But we met here—in aisle 4, to be exact. I helped him reach for his beloved cereals that were on the top shelf.”
While Rintarou was speaking, his hand traveled the expanse of Osamu’s back, before settling on the dip of its lower curve, radiating enough heat to last Osamu an entire winter.
“I can reach the top shelf just fine, ya know?” He said with the most apathetic face that he could make in his situation.
Rintarou hummed, a smile on his lips. “I know. But you were extremely sore on your shoulders that time, you could barely lift your arms above your chest.”
Koutarou cooed, bringing the “couple’s” attention back to the actual couple in the area. Osamu almost felt bad about lying. Almost.
“Keiji’s like that, too! He isn’t really short, but he sometimes needs help with reaching the top shelf.” He punctuated his sentence with a fond laugh. Keiji could only smile at him.
Rintarou nodded. “Well, it was really nice meeting you two, but ‘Samu and I need to continue shopping for my birthday dinner later.”
“Happy birthday, Suna-san,” Keiji greeted with a smile.
Koutarou gasped, his eyes wide. “A party?!”
“Thank you, Akaashi-san. And no,” Rintarou chuckled, “not really a party. I wanted to have an intimate dinner for my birthday, so it’s just us two. I’ll make sure to invite you next time, though.”
“That’s very nice of you, really. Thank you.”
“Ooh, is Myaa-sam cooking for you?” Bokuto asked, seeming to be more excited about the dinner than the “couple.”
“He can’t cook to save his life, but he insisted. Can’t really say no to him.” Rintarou turned his head and winked at Osamu.
“Eh? His cooking is amazing though? His onigiris are the only onigiris Keiji and I eat!”
Osamu felt Rintarou’s hand tense against his back.
“Ah.” Osamu said as he plastered the most natural smile he could muster at the moment. “It’s kinda an inside joke between us. Rin says I can’t cook when he’s the one who actually can’t.”
Keiji and Koutarou nodded their hands in understanding.
“Well,” Keiji smiled, “we won’t hold you back any longer. Have a nice day, you two. Let’s meet again soon.”
“It was nice meeting you both!”
After the couple’s departure, Osamu almost fell down in relief, his hands on his knees the only ones providing him support.
A laugh rang in his ears, making him stand back up.
“You okay there?” Rintarou asked, amused. His hand hovered over Osamu’s locks, hesitating whether he should go through with touching it or not.
He opted not to.
Osamu nodded, letting out a long exhale. “Thank you fer earlier. How do I repay ya?”
The tiny grin on Rintarou’s lips stretched further, cheekier and definitely more dangerous for Osamu’s sanity.
“A date would be nice.”
Osamu froze. What?
“Or, if that’s too forward, then maybe we can start with your phone number.” Rintarou’s head tilted to the side, his eyes catching the glow of the setting sun.
Who was Osamu to say no to a beautiful creature like Rintarou?
“Call me, yeah?” He said after exchanging numbers with Osamu. “Maybe I’ll show you the rest of my snake tattoo if you do.”
Three dates and two heated make-out sessions after, Osamu finally got to see how the snake slithered the entire left side of Rintarou’s torso, following every curve of his body until it ended right beside his hip bone.
And yes, maybe Osamu did have a thing for pretty boys, but he might have a preference for pretty boys with snake-like eyes, snake tattoos, and snake-like grips on his waist.