Chapter Text
Osamu knew he should have eaten his twin in the womb while he had the chance.
Of course, this isn’t the first time Osamu has contemplated committing fratricide. Eighteen years of living with Atsumu Miya and his devilish personality had guaranteed Osamu war, in far more ways than one, but especially a battle against that particular temptation. Still, despite his best efforts to contain the inner criminal that attempted to assert dominance whenever Atsumu pissed him off, Osamu could not seem to fight it off today.
Perhaps, because for once his brother was not his biggest concern; perhaps, because he also wanted to kill himself for his own stupidity.
Osamu, after all, should’ve known that his brother had a knack for taunting him until he kicked the bucket. He should have known that the nearing family reunion would make Atsumu come up with some idiotic challenge for him to power through.
And, in hindsight, Osamu definitely should’ve known better that he was too stubborn to refuse.
“So, Samu, ya ready for the family reunion next week?” Atsumu tilted his head. How a smirk look even more obnoxious on video call?
“‘Course. I got all the ingredients ready. Can’t believe I’m doin’ all this caterin’ for free.”
“Not the food, ya idiot,” Atsumu sighed, dramatic as always. “Are ya ready with yer date?”
Osamu scowled. Yup, Atsumu’s smirk definitely looked more obnoxious on video call.
“Tsumu—"
"I know," his twin interrupted, voice as sly as ever, "yer sorry ass will never have a date. Right! How could I forget?"
Osamu’s scowl deepened, his cheeks flushing a light shade of red. “If you were here beside me, Tsumu, I woulda murdered you by now.”
“Oh please. Like you could murder yer precious brother.” Atsumu made a face, which was normally funny for some, but was definitely weird for Osamu.
“Who the hell would find ya precious?”
“I’m sure Omi-Omi would.”
Osamu groaned, burying his face in his bed. Ever since they’d started dating six months ago, Atsumu would use every chance he could to gloat about his love life. “There ya go again, flauntin’ yer relationship like it’s a gift to mankind.”
“Well, I’m a gift to mankind. You’re not wrong there.”
“I swear on my life, Tsumu, if ya don’t shut up —"
“Alright, alright.” Atsumu shrugged, raising a hand up in surrender. “Really, though, Samu, sure ya don’t have any date to bring? You’d look like such a loser if ya get outshined by yer twin and his lovely boyfriend.”
Osamu gritted his teeth, his impulsiveness and pride forcing his next words out before he could stop them.
“I’m not a loser. And besides, if ya stopped yappin’ about yourself ya woulda realized that I have a boyfriend, too.”
His words force the both of them into silence, the smirk on Atsumu’s lips now replaced by a perfect ‘O’ as he practically fell out of his chair. Osamu’s eyes were wide in shock, his brain only processing his words now.
What the fucking hell are you thinking, Samu?
“Ya do?” Atsumu was the first to recover, surprise still written all over his features. “Whe— wha, how did ya suddenly get yourself a boyfriend?”
Osamu cursed how sweaty his palms had suddenly become. The rational part of him knew he should let this whole thing drop by admitting that he didn’t actually have one. But that would mean backing out. Backing out was something that didn’t sit well with the competitive part of him- the very trait that he shared with Atsumu..
So, against his better judgment, Osamu caved into his aggression and became the biggest, most idiotic fool he could ever be.
“Yes. We’ve been dating for a couple weeks now. If you'd just shut up once in a while, ya woulda known that.”
Osamu forced himself to school his expression as he witnessed the emotions wash over his twin’s face— denial, surprise, curiosity, suspicion.
“Really? And what would the name of this mysterious boyfriend be?” Atsumu crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised.
Oh, fuck.
“He’s an old friend of mine. We met in college.” Osamu thanked all the deities for keeping his voice steady, a clear contrast to the very erratic beat of his heart. He had no idea what he was doing— he had no idea why he had gotten so sized up over Atsumu’s teasing. But old habits die hard, and if there was a habit Osamu has lived by all these years, it was trying to outdo Atsumu in everything.
“Alright.” Atsumu’s smirk had returned, his tone scheming and cunning. Osamu bit back a groan. He knew that voice. He knew how it meant chaos was coming. “Then I suppose ya don’t mind bringin' him to family dinner? I’d like to see him in person so I can turn him off with stories about ya.”
Osamu tried not to kick himself. His brother had him in a corner. If no one showed up, it’d be clear that he was lying. If someone did show up, Atsumu would embarrass him to no end.
His brother loved him that way.
“Fine.” He gritted his teeth. “I’ll bring him. Are ya happy now?”
Atsumu smiled smugly. Osamu wondered if it was possible for the devil to take the form of this bleached blonde asshole on his screen. “Course I am, Samu. Can’t wait to tell Omi-Omi you’re bringin’ a friend. He was worried ya’d be a third wheel to us the whole time.”
“Glad to know yer boyfriend cares more about me than you do.” Osamu stuck his tongue out.
“He’s an angel that way.” Atsumu, for the first time, was smiling fondly instead of mischievously. Osamu would have found it sweet if he wasn’t itching to murder Atsumu then and there.
“Alright. Enough of that lovey-dovey crap. Yer face looks disgustin’ when ya have a crush.”
Atsumu’s smile thinned into a hard line. “For fuck’s sake, Samu, we have the same face! If I’m ugly, then you’re ugly too.”
“You’re right. I always feel ugly when I remember I’m related to ya.” Osamu leaned back innocently.
“OI, SAMU, I AM THE BEST TWIN YA COULD EVER HAVE AND-”
“Bye, Tsumu. See ya at the family dinner.” Osamu hastily ended the call, unwilling to hear Atsumu’s screams that would have followed.
Placing his phone on his nightstand, Osamu plopped onto his bed and screamed into his pillows.
“Fuck Tsumu and fuck my stupid ass.” He mumbled, kicking his legs like a child as he willed himself to disappear into the mattress. The last thing he needed to worry about was how to bring his non-existent boyfriend to the family reunion.
“Maybe I should just say he got sick or something.” Osamu contemplated as he turned in his bed, his arms spread out while he stared at the ceiling. He could , in fact, do exactly that— say that his fake boyfriend was too ill or busy to come and leave it at that.
But as he imagined Atsumu’s taunting, teasing, scheming face, he knew that his pride would be sacrificed if he chose the easy way out.
Sighing, Osamu forced himself to a sitting position. As petty as Atsumu’s challenge seemed, it was still a challenge. And Osamu was too hard headed to allow himself to lose.
“I’m gonna do it,” he grumbled to himself. “I’m gonna find myself a fake boyfriend if it’s the last thing I’ll do.”
Akaashi Keiji wanted to murder whoever invented the idea of love.
To the unsuspecting bystander, Akaashi may come off as a bitter old man with no regard for human affection— but he wasn’t. He adored reading about love in his favorite books. He loved watching romances unfurl in front of his eyes in movies and television. He even loved seeing his friends fall in love with their significant others. There were many instances where Akaashi could remember finding genuine joy in love and its capabilities.
He just absolutely loathed whenever it was shoved in front of him like a necessary obligation.
Everyone around him seemed to believe that Akaashi needed to find love to become truly happy. That, at a mere twenty seven years of age, he was already deemed too old to remain single and had to find love to feel satisfaction. That love at this stage of his life was the most important part of his existence.
It disgusted Akaashi.
He didn’t understand why everyone around him was so adamant about it. Akaashi, after all, already had everything he needed. He had a stable job that could pay his bills, loyal friends who he’s been close with since high school, and a good sense of direction as to where his life was heading; he was going to be an author, and he was going to inspire others with his words. No matter how long it took, he would find a way to get his writing published for all of the world to see.
In other words, Akaashi did not need love to be satisfied or happy. To be frank, it was the last thing he needed at all; especially now, when his life was finally starting to fall into place.
If only the rest of the damn universe could understand that.
“Good morning, Ikeda-sensei,” he bowed before taking a seat across his former professor’s office. It was surreal to be working where his favorite teacher worked; her familiar presence always made Akaashi feel like he was a student again, which was something, contrary to what his friends may say, that he sorely missed.
“Ah, good morning, Akaashi-kun. Are your team’s edits ready?”
Akaashi handed over three big folders, all of them brimming with pages of edits. Udai-san’s folder was the largest, with his tendency to come up with hundreds of ideas at the last minute leading to fifty more panels than Akaashi had expected to receive. “I hope this will be enough.”
“Oh, it looks like it will.” Ikeda-sensei reached for the folders, placing it on the side of her desk. “I’m assuming editing has cost you a lot of sleep again, Akaashi-kun. I’m sorry about that.”
Akaashi smiled. He wasn’t unused to pulling late hours to work. Ever since he began college, his sleeping schedule had become nearly non-existent. “Nothing I can’t handle, sensei. Thank you for your concern.”
Ikeda-sensei chuckled. “You were always a hard working one, Akaashi-kun. You never stop surprising me.”
Akaashi’s cheeks flushed slightly red at her words. He would never admit it out loud, but compliments— validation— were the fuel to his existence. As much as he believed in his own capabilities, especially when it came to writing or editing, it was glad to hear that others believed in him too.
“Thank you, Ikeda-sensei.”
“No problem.” His former teacher shook her head. She seemed ready to dismiss him before a look of recollection crossed her face. “Oh, Akaashi-kun, I almost forgot to remind you. The chairman is holding a private dinner in a few weeks. He requested that I invite all of the editors to join, too.”
“Oh, alright.” Akaashi straightened in his seat. He was never a big fan of social events, but he understood their usefulness when it came to his line of work. Meeting people in the publishing industry, especially those who he already worked with, could set him a step closer to his writing dreams.
“There’s a catch, though.” Ikeda-sensei looked sympathetic. Akaashi raised an eyebrow.
“A catch?”
“You won’t like it.” She grimaced.
It took Akaashi a while to process what she meant. What did she mean, he wouldn’t like the catch? Was there something required of him? Something the chairman needed for him to bring when he was there?
Oh, Akaashi realized with a groan. It wasn't a something— it was a someone.
“I have to bring a plus one,” he sighed, burying his face in his hands. Ikeda-sensei nodded.
“You know how Serizawa kaichou is. He’s never gotten over his romantic fantasies. He always goes on and on about how much more powerful two people together would have than one,” she sighed dramatically. “He even requested to remind you specifically to bring one for the photographs and publicity. He said it because—”
“—because I’m always the one who doesn’t bring a partner.” Akaashi finished for her, biting back the groan that threatened to escape his lips. Akaashi was fortunate enough to have Serizawa Haruto, one of publishing's most famous names, take enough interest in him to strike conversations whenever they met. He was not fortunate, however, to have half of those conversations center around his lack of a love life.
“You need to get out there, Akaashi-kun! Back in my days, I had already been into ten different relationships. Be wild. You won’t be young forever.”
“I don’t think wild is something I’m capable of being, sir.”
“He’s really persistent.” Ikeda-sensei shrugged, clearly willing but unable to help. "It’s probably because he’s never settled down himself and now makes it his personal agenda to make sure everyone else does.”
“But I don’t want to settle down yet. I have no need or time to commit to a relationship,” Akaashi whined in frustration.
Ikeda-sensei laughed at him fondly. She reached for her top drawer and pulled out two small tickets. “I know, I know. He tends to meddle in his employees’ personal lives more than he has any right to. But think about it. If I were you, I’d bring someone even if I weren’t dating them. It’ll probably satisfy him and make him stop pestering you. And it’s not like you have to be together for long— the dinner will just be for a few hours, anyways. Just pretend you’re dating someone and get him off your radar.”
“I—”
Akaashi was about to protest, but his mouth shut close as he considered the idea. As always, his former professor had a point. If he did bring someone and pretend to be dating them in a company event like this, he could get everyone to stop pestering him about the matter. As long as he brought someone and claimed them as his partner, everyone would drop the matter completely.
And dropping the matter completely was something Akaashi has been trying to achieve for months now.
“Alright.” Akaashi stood, his mind already in overdrive. “I’ll consider that. Thank you for the idea, Ikeda-sensei.”
The older woman sighed and crossed her arms, a twinkle in her eye.
“I’m always glad to help, Akaashi-kun. Now get going. If you start on your paperwork now, you might be able to go home early for once.”
Finding a fake boyfriend was easier said than done.
As soon as Osamu had set himself to the task, he realized two things. For one, his work left barely any time to spare, let alone to try and find someone he could bring to the reunion in the first place. For another, he didn’t even have the dignity to ask anyone to be his fake boyfriend in the first place. He was, though he would never admit it in front of his brother, too much of a chicken to ask for a favor like that.
And, besides, who would even want to do something as awkward as becoming his fake boyfriend in the first place?
“You seem distressed, Myaa-sam.”
Osamu nearly jumped three feet in the air as a familiar voice brought him out of his fake-boyfriend induced stress. In front of him, by the counter like he always was when all the other seats were full, was Akaashi Keiji.
Osamu found himself relaxing a bit, a smile starting to grow on his face. Akaashi always had that calming effect on him. He was not only a familiar face because they would cross paths in college, but he was also starting to become somewhat of a regular customer at Onigiri Miya in the past few months. His visits had first taken Osamu by surprise, as Akaashi had to travel a few hours just to get to Onigiri Miya in Osaka, but Akaashi had explained that he had no problem visiting Osaka once in a while. Going to Osaka meant getting the chance to visit his best friend Bokuto, who was currently in the same volleyball team as Tsumu. He always found their talks somewhat of a comfort despite the busy hustle of the restaurant. When Osamu wasn’t on active duty, they could talk for hours.
“Ah, is it that obvious?” He leaned against the counter. Akaashi laughed.
“You’re a bit easy to read, Myaa-sam,” he admitted. Osamu raised an eyebrow in amusement.
“Well, I’m not the only one who's easy to read, Akaashi-kun.” Osamu feigned a pensive expression, raising a hand to his chin r, which made Akaashi laugh. “I’m assumin’ ya want yer usual orders— two yaki onigiris with umeboshi and some spinach ohitashi.”
Akaashi hummed dramatically, the slightest hint of a mischievous look in his eyes. “Why, I guess I am easy to read, Myaa-sam.”
Osamu fist bumped the air. “Because I am a mind reader when it comes to food, Akaashi-kun. And remember, it’s Osamu. Makes things easier since I have a twin.”
“Alright, Myaa-sam.” Akaashi grinned, his tone cheeky as he reached for the glass of water Osamu had placed in front of him.
“Oh, Akaashi-kun, how you wound me.” Osamu held a hand to his heart before making a beeline towards his work station. Before he disappeared completely into the kitchen, however, he heard Akaashi’s reply.
“Alright. Osamu-kun, then.”
Osamu stilled. There was something about the way Akaashi said his name that made him feel a million things at once.
What those things were exactly, Osamu had yet to decipher.
Akaashi has never found a restaurant as homey as Onigiri Miya.
Aside from its size, there was a warmth to Onigiri Miya that appealed to Akaashi. He couldn’t travel here all the time (which was why he's been trying to convince Osamu to start a Tokyo branch), but during the times that he did, everything felt comfortably familiar. The quiet chatter among customers, the mellow movements of the staff, the moonlight from the large windows— being there felt like a warm companion that Akaashi could return to. It was why, despite the distance, he was so intent on visiting it as often as he could.
“What’cha daydreamin’ about, Akaashi-kun?”
Akaashi grinned as Osamu re-emerged from the kitchen, balancing his orders in hand. The smell of the food made Akaashi grin despite his exhaustion.
“About how good this food is going to be,” he hummed as Osamu settled the plates in front of him. The other man laughed.
“With how you react to my food, you’re startin’ to become one of my favorite customers.” He crossed his arms. His words left a jolt in Akaashi’s stomach, but he chose not to dwell on it.
“Well, I am not a good cook, and your food is the epitome of good. You deserve the praise,” he said matter-of-factly. Slowly, he raised the onigiri to his lips and took a bite.
“Perfect as always,” he moaned, making Osamu laugh.
“Seein’ people like you happy with what I cook is the reason I’m doin’ it in the first place, Akaashi-kun. You’re very welcome.” He grinned, passing some towels to his staff while he did.
As Akaashi continued to wolf down his food, a thought came back to him. He suddenly remembered the frustrated look on Osamu’s face when he entered. Akaashi didn't want to intrude, but a part of him felt compelled to ask what was bothering him.
“Osamu-kun, if it’s okay for me to bother you, what were you worrying about earlier? You looked pretty lost in your thoughts.”
Osamu’s eyes widened in surprise; he clearly hadn’t expected Akaashi to remember.
“Ah—” Osamu scratched his head unconsciously, his other hand twiddling with his apron. “Nothing major. I’m just in a uh, well— sticky situation.”
Akaashi raised his eyebrows. “What kind of sticky situation?”
Akaashi didn’t know if it was a trick of his bad eyesight, but Osamu seemed to blush at the question.
“Well… you know my twin Tsumu, right?”
“The amazing athlete with the hideous bleached blonde hair?” Akaashi asked before he could stop himself. Osamu snickered before nodding.
“Yup. The one and only, unfortunately. Anyways, he uh— gave me this stupid challenge that I stupidly agreed to do durin’ our family reunion next week. He, well—”
Osamu paused to clear his throat, checking around to see if anyone was listening in. When he was satisfied, he looked back at Akaashi (who, by now, was positive that Osamu was blushing).
“Go ahead, Myaa-sam.”
“I may or may not have told him I have a non-existent boyfriend when he kept tauntin’ me about my lack of a love life. And now I have no one to bring, but I don’t wanna look like a fool in front of him. It’s a pretty stupid problem, if ya ask me.”
Akaashi’s world seemed to slow as he processed Osamu’s words, who was as red as a tomato. His eyes darted around to look at anything and anyone else but Akaashi.
Osamu, like Akaashi, needed help to find a fake date, too.
Oh.
Osamu wanted to die and melt in a hole.
Not only had he just exposed how dumb he was a person, but he had also ruined his perfectly good image in front of a perfectly good customer and acquaintance. He was pretty sure Akaashi didn’t want to associate with people who lied about their relationship status to their twins.
Akaashi was silent for a good five minutes, his stillness enough to make Osamu want to dig a hole in his kitchen floor. He had debated suddenly waiting tables despite being on kitchen duty so that it would give him an excuse to leave.
Just as he was about to start lunging for the kitchen trays, Akaashi finally spoke again.
“You know, Myaa-sam, we have the same dilemma.”
What?
Osamu thanked all the deities in existence that he wasn’t holding anything fragile when Akaashi had spoken. If he had one of the restaurant’s glassware in his hands, he would’ve broken it in his shock. His eyes were as wide as saucers and his mouth hung open like an idiot.
Akaashi Keiji, one of the most respectable people Osamu knew, was in need of a fake boyfriend?
“I— ha?” Osamu squeaked, feeling even more like an idiot than he already did.
Akaashi laughed, though Osamu could tell it was a nervous one. “Why are you so surprised, Myaa-sam?”
“I, well—” Osamu spluttered. Because you’re not stupid enough like I am to need a fake date? Because you don’t look like a person who needs a fake partner?
“Because I don’t understand why finding a fake partner for you would be so hard with how good lookin’ you are.”
Holy fucking shit , Osamu clasped a hand over his own mouth. From what part of his tiny brain did that come from?
“I, thank you, Myaa-sam.” Akaashi’s voice was higher than usual, the edges of his ears tinged pink. Osamu wanted to slap himself. Great, now he had embarrassed him in front of Akaashi and had embarrassed Akaashi as well.
Why was the world always against him?
“Anyways,” Akaashi brought Osamu back from his self-pity, “you see, I’m not exactly in a relationship right now, nor do I want to be in one just yet, but everyone around me insists that I be— especially my very loud boss. And now, there’s this company dinner coming up in two weeks, and they’re all expecting me to bring someone along. I decided to try and bring a fake date with me so I can finally leave their pestering behind me. The problem is I have absolutely no idea who else to bring.”
Akaashi paused for a moment to stare at him. It was only then that Osamu realized just how startlingly blue his eyes were.
“So.” Akaashi took a deep breath, his voice shaky as he continued to eye Osamu expectantly.
“So,” Osamu echoed, his mind as blank as ever. Why had he suddenly stopped functioning?
Akaashi’s ears had turned red again as he tapped the wooden table anxiously. The same part of Osamu’s brain that had called Akaashi good looking now had a label for how he looked when he was flustered— adorable.
Osamu wondered if it was possible to live healthily if he ejected that particular part of his brain.
“Well, I believe that since we’re on the same boat, we could serve as each other’s fake boyfriends for our respective events.”
Osamu felt like he was faced with a pop quiz in culinary school— speechless and out of his depths. Just an hour ago, he had been resigned to his fate of showing up empty-handed at their reunion. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected that problem to be resolved by someone as respectable and totally-not-good-looking as Akaashi.
For the first time in his life, Osamu had luck on his side— luck that involved this very breathtaking ( breathtaking? ) man. And he wasn’t exactly sure how to react to that.
“Uh, Myaa-sam, are you alright? Do you think that arrangement would be okay with you?”
Akaashi’s concerned question brought him back to reality. Quickly, Osamu forced himself to think of a response. What do you tell someone who has not only potentially saved your ass from his twin but has also left you feeling a dozen of weird emotions at once?
“So we'll be like boyfriends with benefits then.”
Osamu, for the second time, wanted to dig his grave on the kitchen floor as he watched Akaashi’s eyes widen with alarm. Why did Osamu just have to word his sentence in the most scandalous context possible?
“Oh god no, not those kinds of benefits.” Osamu waved his hands around so frantically that his staff were starting to stare at him in concern. To his relief, he saw the color slowly return to Akaashi’s face.
“I just— I meant friendly benefits, ya know. Like bein' able to bring someone when we need a fake date since we’re both too busy to commit to a real relationship, anyways. Kinda like an emergency hotline but for fake boyfriends.”
He was pretty sure that kinda like an emergency hotline but for fake boyfriends weren’t exactly his finest wording, either, but it at least brought a smile on Akaashi’s face.
“An on-call fake boyfriend. I’d like that.” Akaashi smiled. His smile was so warm that it brightened the room— another passing comment from the part of Osamu’s brain that he wanted to murder. “That would really help with all of the fussing people give me when it comes to finding a partner.”
“It would,” Osamu agreed. He couldn’t blame Akaashi. He had a lot of friends and family who pestered about settling down with someone, too. It was the very reason why he had gotten into his fake boyfriend predicament in the first place.
“Then it’s settled.” Akaashi pulled out a notebook and tore a page from it. He was scribbling something that Osamu couldn’t make out. When he gave it to him, Osamu realized it was his number and the details of an event.
“I’ll free my schedule for that family reunion of yours next weekend. My company event is still a few weeks away, but I just wrote the details in advance so you can check if it coincides with anything. I wouldn’t want to take you away from any responsibilities. You can text me the specifics of the reunion or if anything comes up.”
Osamu blinked. Akaashi was more professional over a fake dating system than Osamu had ever been in any of his business meetings. “Wow, you’re really organized.”
Akaashi chuckled, his eyes lighting up excitedly. “It’s one of the things I take pride in. I could organize a month’s worth of schedules for you someday if you’d like.”
“I’ll make sure to get back to you on that offer soon.” Osamu whistled, making the two of them chuckle.
“I’m sure you will,” Akaashi agreed. He reached for his phone to check the time. His eyes widened when he saw it.
“Ah, I’m sorry to cut this short, Myaa-sam, but it’s getting pretty late. I’ll be spending my weekend at Bokuto-san’s apartment. Knowing how dramatic he can be, he might file a missing person case if I don’t leave soon.”
Osamu laughed. Bokuto-san did look like the type of friend who would do that. “Alright. Wouldn’t want Bokkun doin’ anythin’ stupid.”
“We already have one similarity then.” Akaashi shook his head fondly.
“Two, actually.” Osamu said before he stopped himself, making Akaashi glance at him curiously. “I mean, we both do love food. You wouldn’t be comin’ here if ya didn’t.”
Akaashi burst into light laughter at that, his laugh so pleasant that it felt like music to Osamu’s ears. “Point taken. Well, I must take my leave, but I’ll be seeing you soon, Myaa-sam. I really appreciate you doing this.”
Akaashi moved to leave; Osamu, who was moving before thinking for the nth time that night, raised a hand to stop him.
“Hold on.”
“Yes?” Akaashi’s eyebrows furrowed together.
Osamu motioned with his hands and ran quickly into the kitchen, scaring the hell out of an unsuspecting assistant, he then moved a handful of onigiris into a takeout bag. He would pay for them before he clocked out for the night, it was, after a,, the least he could do for Akaashi.
“Here ya go." He offered as he finally reappeared. "Gotcha some take-out for you and Bokkun. It’s on me— for all yer trouble.”
A thousand expressions seemed to flood through Akaashi’s face— denial, surprise, hesitance, appreciation.
“I— are you sure you wouldn’t want me to pay for it Myaa-sam? I can’t possibly—”
Osamu raised his hand dismissively. “Akaashi-kun, it’s on me. You’re the one who suggested the idea in the first place. This is my way of thankin’ ya.”
Akaashi’s grin grew so wide that it reached his ears. “I— thank you, Myaa-sam. Really.”
“Akaashi-kun, if we’re gonna be fake datin’, you gotta learn how to at least call me by my first name. It’s Osamu. Just Osamu.”
Akaashi considered this, his eyes calculating like they always were.
Finally, he nodded, his face still wrapped in a smile. “Alright then, Osamu. I believe it’s proper for you to call me by my first name as well then— Keiji.”
Keiji. His name was lovely, Osamu realized— it was so fitting for Akaashi.
“Alright, Keiji. Have a safe ride tonight.”
Akaashi nodded as he stood, the box of onigiris carefully held in his hands.
“I will. Goodnight, Osamu.”
If hearing his name made him feel a million things at once all over again, Osamu elected to ignore each and every one of them, at least for now.