Archive of Our Own

“darlin’, slow down! ya might slip!”

having a kid is fun, they said. raising a daughter single-handedly is going to be a breeze with how capable he is, they said. it’ll be fine, they said.

no one ever mentions the gremlin child of chaos phase before the rebellious pre-teen phase. what did shuugo think will happen when he allowed bokuto and atsumu to babysit michiko once? forget akaashi and sakusa as damage control, they both can't say no to their respective partners. 

he also has a team full of children who he wouldn't trust babysitting his daughter for prolonged periods of time due to them being heavily prone to wreaking havoc themselves. 

so honestly, he’s overworked and in need of some tender fucking love and care. but, as the tiny patters of feet and giggles down the hallway rings in the air, sore back, aching muscles, and frustrations be damned, he wouldn’t regret accepting the swaddled ball of fluff in his life that autumn morning six years ago. 

exasperated and fond, he watches as the six-year-old light of his life, decked in the swim club-issued navy blue and yellow swimsuit, looks over her shoulder and starts bouncing on her tiptoes. his little princess has her cheeks puffed up and is currently grumbling, “dad, yer so slow!” 

shuugo chuckles. she may have looked and sounded like her father with her tan and her dialect, her hazel eyes narrowing into slits when hearing something she doesn’t like, but he sees his past lover in her in the way that she is quick to give back as soon as she receives, like a firecracker. she got her mother’s wit and sharp tongue and has never failed to keep even her own father on his toes. 

“a’right sunshine, now yer just bullyin’ me. what did i say about runnin’ on wet floors inside the swim club, hm? ya wanna have a sprained ankle?” 

“coach won’t treat me like this!” 

for some reason, michiko worships her swim team coach like those inari shrines they visit in his off-season and keeps on insisting that her dad stay and watch her swim team just this once. keeps on insisting that he absolutely has to see her coach do the most beautiful backstroke ever.

this famed coach is a topic every time shuugo comes to pick her up after his own practice with the black jackals. last week, it had something to do about “dad can ya believe it!? coach also came from hyogo, that’s so cool! he talks in dialect with me, all the other kids were starin' ha!”. the week before that, while doing their grocery, is “coach gave us homemade onigiris fer completin’ the 50m and 100m freestyle in just a week! dad, he cooks better than ya!”. and just earlier, while commuting, she was going off the rails about “how amazing coach looked when he saved katsu-chan from drowning the other day.” 

and honestly, on a well deserved day-off on a saturday, it’s better hearing her daughter fawn than watching over the monster generation and making sure none of them pulls a fucking muscle practicing on weekends. again. 

the captain can’t count the amount of times he had to lecture the four that no, the fucking streetlights in osaka cannot be used as a substitute volleyball net—we have the goddamn gym for that and no hinata, the running cars on the highway cannot serve as obstacles for receive drills what the fuck.

“heya michi-chan. ya ready fer the relay today? hope ya’ve been practicin’ yer butterfly like i’ve been tellin ya.”

well, fuck, hello there. 

it’s the end of september, autumn is nipping at his toes even with socks on, and is curling up his legs. the heater inside the complex is doing its job but the chill from outside is still creeping in. the temperature is building up to chilly levels, enough to warrant a hoodie and an additional denim jacket. 

the cold breeze is enough to chill the tips of his ears but it isn’t enough to tamper down the sudden influx of heat creeping up his chest, up his neck when he sees him leaning by the doors of the pool area, towards them. it’s disarming to see him smile after knowing from atsumu that his twin barely does it. 

shuugo knows that after highschool, the other miya quitted the volleyball scene. something that the blonde setter said about his “scrub brother pursuin’ another path that he’s always been wantin’ and all that shit. fuckin’ shoulda told me so i coulda buy him his shit”. he didn’t know that other path involves becoming a living and breathing literal greek god wet dream with washboard fucking abs that look like chocolate bars. and by wet, he meant the swim trunks clinging deliciously to those thighs of his qualified for restricting a willing someone’s airflow. the navy blue swim club jacket did nothing to hide those firm set of abs. he’s a goner. his eyes subtly trail down the shifting muscles that he knows are underneath the fabric. 

did michiko mention something about the most beautiful backstroke ever? no one has to know that shuugo’s mouth waters at the thought of what the younger miya’s trapezius and latissimi dorsi must look like flexing and glistening wet under the pool lights. 

slowly, he flicks his gaze again up firm and broad shoulders, up the thick column of the man’s neck with unfairly pretty skin and he’s met with eyes of pure silver. familiar in a way that it resembles the heavy gaze of his twin and unfamiliar in the presently growing heated intensity that stirs something deep in shuugo’s gut. 

shuugo’s throat is suddenly drier than the sahara desert and his mind is foggier than dry ice on water. he's fine. he's a grown man who has a daughter he single-handedly raised, an able captain and dependable middle blocker of a successful v.league division 1 team. he helps manage their family farm back in kobe, for christ‘s sake.

“ya must be michi-chan’s dad. she never shuts up about ya. who knew ya’d be tsumu’s captain too.”

okay but he’s also a weak, weak man for dimples and shit-eating grins that look ready to eat him whole. and the muscles. holy fuck, dude .

“ya should hear her outside the swim club, yer all she ever talks about,” it’s amazing how shuugo managed to avoid making a fool out of himself while talking to the tits—err, osamu—while talking to osamu without stuttering despite his brain short-circuiting earlier. 

the smile comes easy, shifting his daughter’s backpack in his shoulder and subconsciously brushing through his hair as the three of them walk towards the changing rooms with the sounds of splashes resonating to his left, “atsumu never mentioned ya went fer swimming after highschool.”

he got this, he can do this. he can act nonchalant yet sufficiently interested as a parent in front of coach miya osamu. he’s the suave captain of msby black jackals who can shut down any spike coming his way on the court.

“oh? interested, meian-san?” he, in fact, does not got this. shuugo doesn’t know whether to be horrified or awed that the spitting image of his teammate is giving him a sly look. mischievous, suggestive. he tries not to choke. osamu grins at him, head tilting up to look at him in the eye. everywhere feels hot, shuugo has to look away. his skin prickles at the laser-focus from the heavy lids. michiko blissfully carries on skipping between the two of them, little hand swinging lightly in her father’s hold. 

he may be towering over the other, wider in stance and build, older, but shuugo feels like shrinking with his tail between his legs with the predatory grin making its presence known on pink lips. no, he didn’t follow the younger’s tongue coming out a little from those cute lips and tracing his bottom lip. no. get a grip, man.

“joined a different varsity in college actually fer a change, was supposed to go fer somethin’ related to my culinary degree after graduatin’ but i fell in love with the water.” and he looks damn good in the water too. shuugo has to shut his brain or else risk embarrassing himself in front of his teammate’s brother and his daughter’s coach. 

“i still got my license though. lil’ michi-chan’s a fan.”

“keep spoilin’ her and she’s gunna find a way to ransack yer fridge some day.”

ushering her daughter inside the showers and yelling for her not to run because the floors are slippery, shuugo doesn’t notice the coach stepping closer and almost jumps out of his skin when a hand presses lightly at his hoodie-covered chest. when he looks back at the coach to ask if he needs something, he’s not prepared to see osamu fluttering his lashes at him with a sly grin in place as he whispers.

“lemme know if ya also wanna, meian-san. i’d be happy to let ya taste.” 

jesus christ , they really are twins. miya osamu is also a flirt and shuugo feels a premature heart attack coming as he watches him saunter inside the shower room and heckle his students into double time. 

will he last the entire practice?

-

so the good news is he did last the entire practice, the bad news is his daughter now insists he watch every weekend. which means having to subject himself to osamu and his everything more than usual. 

he did get the coach’s number, the younger saying it’s for michiko’s progress in the swim team. and shuugo knows that it’s bullshit and that osamu is definitely baiting him in and that he’s sure there is something wrong with breaching the line between professionalism here. so what does a single father like him do?

“sure thin’, coach miya. can i have a picture though? would love to know right away to whom do i owe the pleasure of callin’ me.”

the crimson hue on the other’s cheeks is worth the lame attempt of flirting back because what do you know, shuugo likes seeing a flustered miya osamu. he did get a picture of a flustered and pouty swim coach who walked away, stomping cutely, with a shy huff of dismissal towards him and a little wave for michiko.

damn, it’s only been a few weeks and here he is tacking on “cute” to every single thing that miya osamu does. nevermind that he’s michiko’s coach, he’s also his teammate’s brother who is prone to drama queen episodes about everything . god forbid he finds out that shuugo is kind of taking an interest in the setter’s younger twin. 

“hey dad, coach’s pretty right? like ya keep on starin’ at him whenever ya stay fer the day.”

shuugo’s omurice goes down the wrong way. as he is hacking up a lung, michiko bursts into giggles as she pushes his cup of water towards him. his little princess is too smart for her own good and too much for shuugo’s nerves. he downs the drink, along with the unwelcome embarrassment at being caught by his six-year old.

“what’re ya even talkin’ about?”

“s’okay dad, i find coach miya pretty too. his eyes are sparkly under the pool lights, don’tcha think? ya can’t look away whenever ya guys talk. coach miya’s so kind and so pretty but he’s also super strong, like a … a princess in a shining armor?”

shuugo narrows his eyes at the grin surfacing on his daughter’s tiny lips, “brat.” he sighs in defeat. he can’t lie, for the life of him, to his one and only. it’s not that michiko doesn’t know that he’s attracted to both sexes, shuugo very much raises her to look at things with an open mind. it’s just that, is she ready to welcome another possible intrusion in the future? is he ready? shuugo’s ex-girlfriend (almost fiancee, really) was close to perfect. once. everything has been going so well that shuugo failed to see the cracks that were already present in the first place.

a few months after giving birth to baby michiko, an autumn day much like today, shuugo woke up to the left side of the bed, occupant long gone, half of the apartment empty, a wailing baby in the nursery, and a hastily written note at the back of a grocery receipt on the coffee table with the words, “sicily is still waiting for me. thought i could give it up. sorry.”

he’s not sure he’s ready to let in another person and just … offer them his and michiko’s everything after that . it’s been years and yet his fear of letting people in just for them to have enough of them is what kept possible admirers and potential lovers out of his and michiko’s safety bubble. regardless if he and osamu are kind of fooling around and toeing lines not meant to be crossed like a playful dance, michiko always comes first for shuugo. 

“hey dad?”

“yeah?”

“if yer happy, i am too.”

how did he have such an angel for a daughter? shuugo smiles softly and opens his arms, silently asking his little girl to sit on his lap so he could feed her just like old times. she’s growing up too fast and shuugo is an emotional man. 

his ringtone tinkles lightly throughout the dining room as shuugo’s phone screen lights up and a certain man with ruffled black hair, black swim goggles hanging around a thick neck, and a hand doing a failed attempt of covering a blush shows up as a contact icon. michiko smiles up at him from her perch on his lap as she swipes the ‘answer’ button. 

“dad’s gunna talk to my pretty coach again,” cheeky. he reaches down to pinch her cheek as he puts the phone to his ear and is met with the rumble of kansai-ben that is slowly becoming familiar to both meians. 

oh, right. it has also been a few months since he and osamu started calling each other every night, sometimes michiko would join the conversation and shout her greetings to her coach. most of the time though, it’s just the two of them. imagine shuugo’s surprise when osamu really did talk about his daughter’s progress, the other already hinting that some school scouts might ring her up once she starts elementary next spring.

something funny happens to the tiny beating organ in his chest everytime osamu starts gushing about his daughter. shuugo knows michiko does her best in everything, particularly in things she loves and swimming is one of them, but to hear other people praising her just makes him swell with pride and relief as a father.  

“evenin’, meian-san. ya guys eatin’ dinner?”

“yep. i think michiko’s finally onto somethin’.”

“ooh, did she catch ya starin’ at my ass in compression shorts often, captain? likin’ what’cha see?”

and there are also times when they test out whatever this is between them. risky and will probably hurl them down to the point of no return but he really, really can’t help but indulge the younger in his whims. 

“shut yer trap, she’s with me right now.”

“hi, co’ch m’ya! we’re havin’ dad’s omu’ri fer di’er! dad, i ca’t spea’ lemme go! ”

shuugo puts the phone on speakerphone and lets michiko babble as he combs her hair. he watches with a light smile on his lips as his daughter regales her recent fascination with the sanrio franchise and at the amused and well-timed responses of the younger male from the other line. 

“ that’s amazing michi-chan, aren’t there a lotta them? yer so smart, ya remember them all! i only know the kitty with the bow.”

“eh? okay! i’ll show ya my cute backpack tomorrow! it has all of ‘em sanrios there, coach! i’ll tell ya their names.”

shuugo listens to osamu giving equal attention to him and michiko over an hour long phone call as he finally welcomes the feeling of falling along with the leaves of the season. 

-

winter training for the v.league circuit, and fortunately michiko’s too, starts before their winter break— the holidays, christmas and new year— before resuming shortly next year, a little before the season continues. they have a scheduled match against japan railway warriors as soon as january makes its presence. 

and yet everybody feels lethargic, as if they’re swimming in molasses. it’s not even christmas week and yet most of them are acting drunk already. it’s a miracle atsumu isn’t out here demanding they go overtime.

the december chill is slowly setting in, threatening to freeze all their limbs off and effectively pushing them to actually do well in the last remaining days before their 5-week long vacation. doesn’t mean some of them aren’t already in a festive mood and are kind of half-assing their regimen. 

“bokuto, i swear, if ya keep on starin’ at the clock and waitin’ fer dismissal, i will bench ya on the emperor’s cup final next week.” 

“shion, are sakusa and atsumu actually makin’ out in the lockers? whaddya mean fer body heat they said? un-fucking-believable, pull ‘em out! ”

it’s like hounding a pack of dogs after dinner. so to speak, shuugo is one of the only few aside from barnes and shion who is keeping their shit together and not giving in to the holiday mania in the air. and he’s the one with a kid. 

“m’ ready fer next round! who’s up fer next round, dibs on omi-kun this time! need that nasty freak wrists fer tryin’ out a quick m’ plannin’.” shuugo kind of want to strangle their starting setter for parading his sexcapades right out of the locker room, proud of the hickeys peeking out the collar of his practice shirt and his platinum blond hair fucked six ways to sunday, with his equally dishevelled boyfriend standing behind him. but it’s against the law to maim a teammate, more so the brother of someone he’s largely interested in.

surveying the room, it’s obvious that half of his team are feeling sluggish while the other half are trying their best in following the regimen for today. that won’t do, might as well wrap up early for the day.

sighing, shuugo claps to get their attention, “everyone, head fer the weight room and start yer 30-minute cooldowns. y’all are obviously not in the mood today, we’ll pick up slack t’morrow. i’ll be puttin’ everyone in hellish 3-on-3’s, all day.” 

he’s met with varying groans of agreement and shuffling pairs of shoes, some head for the lockers and some directly go to the connecting gym in the building. turning his head to the side and reveling in his joints cracking to release tension, shuugo palms at the nape of his neck. 

he checks the wall clock above the gym entrance. it’s only half past four p.m., they usually finish by six-thirty while michiko gets out at seven o’clock. his ears burn at the tips in embarrassment at the thought of getting to see osamu early then in shame at having the swim coach as his first thought. 

half an hour passes by with him breezing through his cooldowns, last-minute reminders to get their shit together for training tomorrow, and berating the monster generation for having their mind elsewhere the most today. bokuto keeps on checking his phone, probably waiting for a text from akaashi. hinata acts as if he downed a fuck ton of monster energy drink and babbles about decorating his apartment with fellow karasuno alumnus. and well, his outside hitter and setter keeps on doing this weird ritual of competing for more reps, pissing each other for their forms, and then proceeding to grope each other out in the open like uncivilised teenagers. he wants out of here. 

in his haste to get away from the gym, to avoid seeing sakusa and atsumu defiling their showers this time around, shuugo ultimately forgoes showering. he changes into a spare shirt and just hopes he doesn’t smell like a sweat rag and air salonpas before booking it out of the complex. he texts the opposite hitter to lock up and their libero to fucking please haul those two out before they get locked in .

he catches the five p.m. bus, the swim club is just a district away from ohasuhigashi, the district where black jackals’ home gym resides. the bus ride to ohasukita is relatively uneventful though the youngest miya keeps his mind company like he often does lately.

miya osamu isn’t what most people perceive him to be. he heard things in passing, during their time in the highschool circuit, that if miya atsumu was a fox, all barbs and bite but still irresistible in his allure, then his twin is the much more appealing, much more approachable, and the clawless version. all gentle smiles and accommodating arms. but that’s just it isn’t it? others made the mistake of falling for the faux boy-next-door charm the grey haired twin gave them. they mistakenly bit off more than they could chew.

osamu isn’t that far off from his brother. atsumu is much more open in everything, heart on his sleeve and ready to give on the court but once he feels the slightest hint of reluctance in return, atsumu lashes out like a whip. unforgiving, he insists on receiving the best because he dishes out his best. he’ll leave you biting the dust if you can’t keep up with him, no force can ever hold him down. 

aside from his twin, sakusa is probably the only one able to tether atsumu by his side what with being equally worse as him. they bring out the best and the worst in each other; they’re their own brand of hurricane. 

osamu, in the same aspect, is also giving. but he’s selective, carefully picking out who deserves to come close, who deserves his all. osamu sees to it that whoever gets to see his much brasher side, the mirror image of his twin’s nastiness and callousness, can take it. if not, then they didn’t deserve to see him in his entirety anyways. distrustful, he’s not letting you take anything if he sees you can’t handle it. 

he’ll let you come close but once you’re near him, he’ll laugh after making you think you can ever catch up before speeding up and leave you in the dust. you’ll never see him biting your calves from behind, he’ll have you on your ass before you know it. he’s a fox in the way that he’s sneaky and mischievous like that.

dealing with a brat that outwardly stomps his foot down and digs his heels in the gravel is troublesome, not much of shuugo’s thing. he can’t count the amount of times he had to resort to using sakusa just to reel atsumu back in. dealing with a brat who calms down before a tantrum and promises to cooperate and then proceeds to stomp his foot down when you’ve fallen for the false lull of calm? shuugo always had a thing for challenge. 

but when shuugo sees him instructing kids on finding their own swim style and get a glimpse of the younger laughing as he fools around with his students, playfully remaining stern, he melts. he sees when osamu gently coaxes the much younger kids into the water, ready to catch them when they jump off the platform. the way he worries for the kids like a parent and doing what he believes is best for them earns the trust of his clients. 

he was present the one time osamu brought his infamous lunches for the students. surprise, surprise, there’s one for shuugo too, and when he saw the unbridled pride shining in the other’s visage along with the boyish grin reaching his ears making an appearance, he can’t help but fall a little deeper. is it the years he spent taking care of his twin or is it just something natural for him?

osamu’s many contradictions throw shuugo for a loop. it’s new. it’s inviting . he wants to see all of them.

fortunately or unfortunately, he’s almost always targeted by the little shit. shuugo became a victim of a short-lived cat and mouse game the first few times he stayed for michiko’s practice. 

the younger miya, with his presently black roots and teasing silver gaze, proceeded to pull him in with playful flirting and inviting stares only to give him a 360° by feigning ignorance and injecting a healthy dose of professionalism at the end of the day as if everything during his stay was a trick of the light.

it wasn’t until a month in that shuugo cornered him by the vending machine outside the pool area. the kids were practicing laps in the pool the last time he checked, so he caged him by the wall; breaths mingling, his hands squeeze osamu’s bare ( oh my god, skin !!) hips underneath his swim club jacket, lips almost touching as he spat out, “ya really wanna play like this, sweetheart?”

the feral grin he got in return contrasted the lazy flickers of osamu’s eyelids. his canines glints under the fluorescent light of the hallway. hands slithered up to circle his neck, nails trimmed but bringing a delicious drag on his skin, to pull him closer. just the thought of it was enough to send tingles down his spine even now as he shifts in his bus seat and tries to will away the stirring in his groin.

“mm, took ya long enough to snap. thought ya’d never give in, meian-san. i had half a mind to just reach over and bite ya.”

they made out that day with a ferocity that rivalled the scorching sun during the onslaught of a heatwave. it’s easy to get lost in the fingers clawing at the shaven part of his undercut and pulling at the gelled strands of his spiked up hair, the teeth nipping harshly on spit-slicked lips, the heady moans of his given name whispered right at his ear, and the ungodly rhythm of their hips undulating together at the secluded corner between two vending machines. 

shuugo had to make a shit excuse to michiko about being bitten by a bug on the neck for the hickeys and that he somehow hit a pole outside and busted his then swollen lips. it was fine, he got a gentle goodbye kiss from osamu in the shadows followed by a flurry of short pecks in apology. he really is cute when he wants to.

that same night was the first of the many nights that miya osamu started their nightly conversations on the phone. 

almost missing his stop, shuugo smiles in recollection as he steps down at the bus stop in front of the swim club. the entrance is void of his kid running straight for his arms or the sex on legs apple of his eye but that is to be expected since he’s earlier than usual. 

he salutes at the person manning the lobby and remains outside beside the vending machines, not the make out corner, not wanting to ruin the surprise. 

“jesus christ, can’t remember if michiko’s got a scarf.” shuugo huffs and puffs, zipping up his msby jacket all the way to the neck. he can feel his teeth chattering, his exhales coming out in tiny translucent smokes. he starts to shuffle on his feet, hoping to generate heat so he can keep his limbs from locking up while waiting, when a weight collides with an oof on his thighs and a pair of arms starts to shake him back and forth with little to no effect on him. 

shuugo looks down and grins at the damp waves framing his daughter’s face, toothy smile on display. 

“dad yer early! why didn’cha come inside?” 

“hiya rockstar. yer wearin’ a scarf, thank god. wanna surprise ya.”

“actually had to remind the little devil to wear it,” and adonis reincarnated comes sauntering outside, hints of a small smile in place. shuugo does a double take because 1) goddamn , he can never get over seeing osamu being so confident in his own skin in just his swimming gear, it’s hot and 2) why the fuck is he not wearing anything aside his swimwear and the club jacket in fucking december ?

“and yet here ya are, freezin’ yer own ass off.” the older man takes a step forward and revels in the sputtered yells of the swim coach when shuugo yanks him close and zips up his jacket in the process, clearly not expecting the athlete to be so brazen in front of his daughter. 

osamu’s cheeks are hot as coals as he slaps shuugo’s hands away, muttering about stupid tall attractive men who uses their charm to their advantage. said taller man raises an eyebrow, having heard the statement and is about to retaliate when he feels small tugs again on his practice pants. seemingly innocent doe eyes stares up at him as michiko clutches at both his pants and osamu’s jacket sleeve.

“dad, s’really cold, ya should do the thing to coach too! he might get cold!”

both adults tilt their head in confusion, shuugo’s face going up in flames a few moments later when he realizes what michiko means. he side-eyes the younger who raises an eyebrow in question. he sighs, might as well. it’s not like he’s complaining. 

coughing, shuugo raises his hands and slowly inches towards the younger, “meian-san, what—”

shuugo registers cold cheeks underneath his palm and chiselled jawline at his fingertips. they’re so close to each other, wispy breaths turning white and intermingling under the december sky. “can’t have ya turnin’ into jack frost, coach.”

osamu seems to lag for a few moments before chuckling, breathless. shuugo stands his ground as the man steps forward and looks up at him. despite the few inches he has on the other, shuugo feels like running at the hunger swirling in those moonlight irises. 

cheeky, osamu grins at him as he lays his own hands above shuugo’s on his cheeks. 

“thank ya, daddy. how thoughtful of ya.”

god have mercy, he’s about to eat the pretty little thing up. 

(shuugo is pretty sure michiko meant for that to happen, what with her wiggling her brows at him and poking his sides on the public transit, giggling)

-

“yer a grade-a kobe beefcake ‘s what im sayin’, meian-san.”

miya osamu is nothing but a dedicated man to his craft. he never half-asses anything he does, he pours his all in what he loves to do and makes sure that every motion and every result that he procures has his name stamped on it. he is a miya in that way. 

this is the man who persisted through college, refusing to give up his culinary degree and newfound love for swimming and is now a licensed chef who also coaches community swim teams in this part of osaka. 

it’s amazing how his stubbornness is an awfully endearing trait that can manifest in many ways, be it in the way he pushes his students to try or makes sure he gets what he wants at the end of the day, one way or another. 

shuugo watches every weekend as this man continuously graces everyone in the swim club with his beautiful form. right from the diving platform, up to the turn, and to attractively shrugging off his goggles and swim cap as he resurfaces back at the starting line. patiently coaxing each student into his domain where they communicate by creating rifts in the water. 

miyas are pain in the asses like that; they just do their thing so passionately that you cannot help but get dragged in by their energy. 

unfortunately, having the same dna with atsumu also translates into having the same little shit characteristics. and osamu, although he is supposed to be the sane one, is determinedly giving shuugo a headache born from heavy flirting. 

“s’not fair ya look this hot even though my signal’s shit.”

the kid’s laying it on real thick, shuugo can’t keep the grin off his face.

christmas week is finally upon them and almost, if not all, everyone takes the time-off to head back home and away from osaka for a while. with v.league practice and swim club meetings halted for the time being, shuugo spends most of his time in his and michiko’s apartment while osamu heads back to amagasaki with his twin.

the younger did try to ask if they wanted to go back to hyogo together seeing as they have the same trains but shuugo informed the other that they’re staying down in osaka for christmas and spending the other half of the break, the new year’s half, in kobe. plus, he really didn't want atsumu all up his face during the train ride. 

michiko is a smart girl. even though shuugo and osamu are tiptoeing along the thin line between them that is called “label”, she’s been subtly giving hints of her approval like asking osamu for favors even when her dad is there and allowing affectionate gestures extending beyond pupil-teacher as an okay from her. let it be known that meian michiko orchestrated countless opportunities for shuugo and osamu to flirt so, really, shuugo isn’t all too worried. osamu is becoming very dear to both of them as he remembered michiko giving osamu a kiss on the cheek and a “see ya soon, miya-san!” before the other boarded the train to hyogo.  

the pout in the younger’s lips the day he and michiko saw him off the platform last week is the same as the pout in shuugo’s screen right now in tonight’s video call. 

shuugo shuffles upwards to sit against the headboard of his bed, blanket pooling down at his waist as he squints playfully at the screen.

“ya flirtin’ with me, kid?”

“aye aye, cap’n.”

thank fuck michiko has her own bedroom now. it’s christmas eve and his kid fell asleep waiting for santa; shuugo promised to wake her up when the clock strikes midnight since she was falling over herself trying to stay upright on the sofa. she almost bathed herself with warm milk in an attempt to stay awake. precious.

shuugo watches the grainy feed on his phone screen as the younger smiles cheekily, tongue between teeth. video calls do osamu no justice; it’s underwhelming seeing the younger’s normally plump lips, misty silver eyes, and sharp jawline in its pixelated glory. 

if he concentrates enough, though, like if he tries to bore holes in his phone’s camera and screen, it’s just like usual. being able to talk and see him as if he's right here beside him. with steady fingertips and hot lips memorizing and trailing all over osamu’s visage in the past weeks in the semi-safety of the younger’s office, it’s not that hard for shuugo to memorize how he feels and looks down to a t. 

shuugo shivers at the ghost of wandering hands grazing under the hem of his shirt and canines nipping at the crook of his neck.

“meian-san, ya should take responsibility. ‘m missin’ ya s’much, drivin’ me fuckin’ nuts.”

“who said i don’t miss ya too, huh?”

yeah, well, osamu should also take responsibility for turning him into this.

the younger requested the first night back in hyogo if they could video call instead of the usual hours-long phone calls, whining about how he has to survive a few weeks without seeing shuugo unlike before. shuugo teased him to be careful because he’s starting to sound like atsumu lately but the older man gave in soon after osamu sent him a picture of himself pouting with glistening eyes and round bread cheeks. resistance is futile when shuugo is ready to say yes anytime.

“5 minutes till midnight, meian-san.”

“hm.”

“anythin’ ya wanna say to me before wakin’ michi-chan up?” 

he takes a moment to look at the younger once again, eyes flitting down from the obviously towel-dried black fringe, down to his crystal eyes, down his dough cheeks, down his thick neck golden under the fairy lights strung around his bunk bed, and down the probably homemade sweater with the endearingly obnoxious reindeer design that stretches across his broad chest. 

shuugo covers his mouth as his lips start to split into a grin, rough stubble pricking the pads of his fingertips and the palm of his hand. michiko’s going to start complaining soon that he’s itchy again. 

“ya look cute in yer reindeer sweater, wanna pull ya in my arms.”

“uh,” shuugo’s grin grows wider as the younger grows ever more flustered, eyes blinking too fast with an alarming red coloring his cheeks, “i.. i, uh.. i m-meant the christmas greeting. b-but thanks… y-ya, uh, look good too.”

“‘m wearin’ a practice shirt.”

“i… i!! so!? ya look good in it!! oh pipe down, dun’ leddit get in yer head, ya old man!”

shuugo lets out a full-bellied laugh, barely reminding himself that his daughter is still asleep. he checks the clock on the top corner of his phone and scratches his stubbly jaw, humming in thought. he stands up and heads for the door of his room, he did promise to wake michiko when it’s midnight already. 

“oi! don’tcha dare shave yer stubble when ya come down ‘ere next week! want me some sexy lumberjack.”

he smiles down at the device in his palms, the younger leaning close and squinting (if you ask shuugo, he’s pouting) at him. a few steps from his own bedroom and he’s in front of a brown door with sparkly purple and yellow stickers. he twists the doorknob carefully before whispering back at osamu.

“scandalous, aren’tcha? i’m enterin michiko’s room, let’s wake her up.”

it’s winter and yet, shuugo’s heart melts when michiko wakes up squealing “osamu-san, merry christmas!! dad and i are gunna open presents, ya should open yers with us!!” 

“angel, he’s gunna hafta celebrate with his family. that’s why osamu-san went home last week, right?” 

“b-but …” why is shuugo so weak for puppy eyes and when the hell did osamu have the time to teach her that? look at her! her eyes are glistening with unshed tears and her shoulders are starting to droop. 

“aww, michi-chan, how ‘bout we go out on a date next week when ya guys come down ‘ere in hyogo too? how’s that soundin’, pretty? don’t tell yer dad but i already wrapped yer present.” shuugo’s heart thunders within his ribs again, he really is shameless when he wants to be. as if he wasn’t stuttering for being called adorable earlier.

“hey coward, stop usin’ my daughter fer yer schemes. ask me out yerself.” shuugo really lives for the red hue on the other’s cheeks whenever he pulls brazen shit like this. it’s not everyday that he can get miya osamu speechless since the kid almost always latches onto him like a kitten hell-bent on purring his way to get what he wants. 

shuugo’s eyes flick towards his daughter behind the phone and silently asks for permission. michiko first. he doesn’t have to worry too much since his little princess is already nodding fiercely and is bouncing giddily on her mattress.

“yay, i’m havin’ a date with dad and osamu-san! oh no, santa! dad! how dare ya make santa wait in the livin’ room!”

he watches as his daughter almost trips over herself as she bolts towards their living room, probably on her way to destroy the wraps on the gifts he placed under the christmas tree when she went to sleep. he also watches as the younger avoids eye-contact with him. god, he’s so cute, oh fuck.

“can’t wait to see ya again next week. ya better make the date worth it, miya-san.”

“if ya think i’d back down from a challenge, i think ya forgot that i grew up with a twin. i’m gunna date ya two so hard next week, ya both will fall fer me, meian-san!”

there was no need for the falling part, shuugo is already well on his way to the point of no return. they wish each other a merry christmas again and shuugo cackles at the picture sent right after the phone call with osamu grinning and a bow on top of his black hair, captioned “here ya go, pt. 1 of yer gift, meian-san ;) have fun with michi-chan~~” 

shuugo receives a flurry of kisses from the little monster on the couch who is clutching her newly unwrapped cinammaroll merch. he almost tears up at the handmade black and yellow bead keychain (she even put the letters M, S, B, and Y in it!)  she made in pre-school and swears to always bring it to practice. 

he thinks of the small package neatly wrapped in his closet for osamu. he asks michiko where she wants to visit for their date in hyogo next week. 

-

departing in the 10 AM train headed to kobe a week later, shuugo texts osamu if it really isn't  a bother that the younger had to travel all the way from amagasaki to kobe just for today. osamu sends him a picture of blowing a raspberry while sitting snug and soft against the blue seats of the shinkansen, black bucket hat obscuring his view of osamu’s hair except for a few tufts escaping.

michiko goes on a tangent about wanting to visit an inari shrine first, then the shopping district, then run around the bay area and finally, to the night markets by the ports that open in the early evening before heading home to her grammama and grampapa. she’s pretty excited for her first date. she even got him to braid her hair. 

so what is he doing panicking to the highest heaven like an adolescent out on their first date? is it because they can freely go out this time around with no fear of prying eyes from familiar faces? is it because they’re in their hometown, because it feels too real and so close to home now? shuugo, for fuck’s sake, calm down.

no, he can't calm down. not when the first thing he sees after stepping down the train and onto the platform is miya osamu in his casual wear looking very much as if he wants to get kissed in the afternoon light. shuugo feels a heart attack coming at seeing the man decked out in the bucket hat, baby blue sweater, and ripped denim jeans opening his arms to catch michiko hurtling towards him full speed and looking darling all the while. yep, definitely a heart attack. his daughter just met a throng of people head on, jesus christ. 

if anybody catches him lagging for a few seconds at the 4K, ultra-olympic zoom, retina display viewing opportunity of osamu’s nice ass, thicc—double fuckin c’s—thighs, tapered waist, and firm biceps, no, they didn't. 

“michiko, don’cha ever let go of my hand again. ever. what if osamu wasn’t here and ya got lost huh?” shuugo is allowed righteous anger as a concerned dad but how could he even get angry when the two are snickering at his frantic state, michiko looking natural in osamu’s arm and osamu fitting right in as a menace as shuugo scolded the both of them once he reaches them by the escalator. 

“yer dad’s right ya little gremlin, what’cha gunna do if ya got dragged, huh?”

“m’sorry, coach. was just really excited to see ya,” both adults hold back a stomp when the youngest of the trio starts pouting, gaze directed downwards. osamu shuffles her in his hold, trying to coax her out of a building sulking session. shuugo rolls his eyes at his little drama queen, large hand coming up to pat her head fondly. 

“uhuh, s’fine, just don’t do that again, hm? now, say sorry to yer poor old man.” 

shuugo slaps the back of the younger's neck lightly and is so utterly endeared (and fucked) when osamu pouts and asks michiko to pat his neck for it to stop hurting. 

“michi-chan, didja get dizzy in the shinkansen?” the pair are whispering to one another as if they’re gossiping about trivial things, the two adults walking them away from the foot traffic and outside the station. but really, the final nail on shuugo’s coffin is michiko enthusiastically babbling what comes to her mind and osamu readily indulging her while steadying his hold on her. this is so domestic and shuugo doesn’t want to unpack that right now. 

osamu offers to carry their suitcases, including michiko’s sticker-covered mini luggage but shuugo declines. instead, he asks the younger to let michiko walk as she gets cranky if she’s not moving around on her own for long periods of time. she probably got that from hinata and bokuto and has been the bane of his existence ever since. 

hearing osamu laugh and play along to michiko’s silly little whims, he doesn’t know if he can stop himself from kissing the younger and so he does. he makes sure osamu is holding michiko tightly by her hand, halts him from walking by pulling the back of his shirt, and grabs the other’s bucket hat to cover their faces as he yanks the other for a kiss, a hand pulling the younger closer by the waist and smiling when osamu squawks between their lips. he almost groans when fingers ghost along his scruffy jawline

"fancy seein' ya here, coach. lookin' real good today. got a date?" biting his lip, the taller makes a show of checking osamu out and snickers when the other bites his lip in retaliation.

"yeah and he's absolutely shameless. can't believe ya'd do that in front of michi-chan!" paying no mind to the whacks on his shoulder, shuugo plants another quick one on the younger's nose before finally letting go. osamu looks like his whole face is on fire with how red he is while clutching his bucket hat over his mouth, glaring at the older. cute kitty. 

"s'okay, dad’s a lil’ itchy right now but if yer good with him scratchin’ ya, go fer it! coverin' my eyes fer ya two, see?" laughter bursts out of their mouths at seeing the little girl scrunching her entire face and her little palm covering her eyes. 

“yer dad’s kinda scruffy and rugged, but i sure don’t mind, right meian-san?” 

shuugo snorts as osamu runs the back of his fingers along the taller’s rough stubble while the taller checks his wristwatch, minding the time. they have much to do and he’s conflicted if they’re going to lug around their stuff as they walk around kobe when osamu links their pinkies and tugs lightly. a bit startled, the taller looks at osamu who is smiling up at him knowingly.

“let’s leave the suitcases in the station lockers fer now. we’ll come back fer them later.”

the day continues on with linked hands and holding the little devil from wandering to every single stall she deems interesting. blush on their cheeks heavy whenever some vendor comments on their cute family, osamu shyly denying even though their grips on each other just grows tighter in their flustered state. 

“’m surprised atsumu ain’t pesterin’ ya about yer outin’ with us today. yer phone on silent or somethin’?”

looking over to the younger, shuugo’s heart did a thing, “um. actually. ma and pa gave their blessing earlier, told them i was kinda… seein’ someone. ‘tsumu did threaten me but. that’s just ‘tsumu, i know he’s itchin’ to bitch once i get home later.” and oh , osamu is so adorable. he sounds bashful, trying hard to hide his grin, and is actively looking down at michiko and avoiding his gaze. forever endeared it seems, shuugo brings the younger’s hand up to his lips and kisses his knuckles. feather light but he can feel the warmth of osamu’s hands and proceeded to murmur confessions on his skin. 

“no rush with me, osamu. s’cute that ya already told them about me. if it helps, michiko really likes ya already. ma and pa would surely like ya too. after all, their eldest likes ya so much.” osamu huffing, or really doing anything, is really, really cute. 

it's already late afternoon before they know it and they're about to head to the night markets to avoid the crowd when osamu feels his hand being tugged lightly, as if the person he's holding onto stopped walking. and michiko did stop walking. she's staring intently up at the row of orange and black torii gates, mouth agape at the adjacent inari statues beside the first torii gate. 

“dad, wazzit say?” 

shuugo crouches down to read the bronze plaque mounted on the side of one of the inari statues while osamu fiddles with the little girl’s braids as they wait. osamu can’t help his eyes from straying down to the sweatpants framing the older’s volleyball thunder thighs, averting his eyes as shame burns in him because how dare you, right in front of his child? and oh, so if michiko is not around, you really would dare ? 

the younger tries peeking past all the torii gates instead; he knows there is another set, much fewer, leading to the main entrance of the shrine and not just the shrine grounds. however, osamu doesn’t know if his eyes are playing tricks on him but, as the last flickering rays of the setting sun hits the snout of the inaris and the glare ricochets inwards, something glints from inside and the wind suddenly spirals towards their direction. osamu shields michiko from flying debris. what .

shuugo stands up, dusting his thighs as he stretches, “ikuta love shrine, huh? the patroness of the shrine is the goddess of fabrics and they say she ties people’s fates together. that’s sweet, ain’t it darlin’?” fuck , osamu feels like launching towards the stratosphere when shuugo aims a brazen grin at him. he knows that shuugo is talking to michiko and the pet name is for her but goddamn, why you looking at me like that?

“dad, the three of us should get matchin’ amulets while it’s still open.” shell-shocked at the suggestion and the unspoken connotation between the two adults, shuugo awkwardly steps forward for the two of them. 

“michiko.”

“i-it’s okay, meian-san … i, uh, kinda wanna see the inside anyways.” it's shuugo’s turn to blush. he doesn’t want to put any meaning nor  pressure on the younger but hearing him agree to a shrine visit together, a love shrine no less, with his daughter just makes him fuzzy inside. they get three pink happiness amulets that match perfectly with the cheeks of both adults. 

night falls upon them and their outing ends with the meians seeing osamu off again at the platform after an evening of shuugo chastising osamu for spoiling michiko at the night market, osamu justifying that the older did the same for him, and michiko bargaining for sweets and teasing them. 

there’s 10 more minutes before the next train and osamu is lulling michiko, who is perched on his lap, to sleep, rubbing his hand up and down her back. hesitating and shuffling a bit, shuugo fusses with the package in his hands. 

“take care gettin’ home, yeah? here. got it fer ya, not sure if yer gunna like it but ya still cook so i bought ya—” one moment shuugo is looking down at shocked pools of grey and the next thing he feels is warm lips pressed against his own and a hand anchored on the nape of his neck. osamu mumbles a thank you on his lips before pulling away. 

the loud honking of the train wakes shuugo’s daughter up, clinging to osamu tightly to not go yet. the younger laughs, fond and unable to detach himself too, until shuugo grabs his daughter from the other. osamu feels steam exiting his ears when shuugo leans down to kiss his forehead. 

“send me a picture when ya wear ‘em, hm?”

needless to say, michiko snuggles with her grandparents by their fireplace while shuugo retires early for the night and tries not to make too much noise in his bedroom after receiving a picture from the man starring in his desires lately. the maid apron stretched taut across naked and tanned broad chest and lidded silver eyes luring him forward is for shuugo’s consumption only. the leather cord necklace wrapped around the younger' neck, one black-yellow and one black-pink bead at its center, sends shuugo off the edge. safe to say that the next time he comes out of his room is the next day in the afternoon already. 

-

as the countdown of an hour before the new year ticks down, shuugo also counts his footsteps as he power walks towards the station while carrying michiko in his arms. 

a few minutes ago, he was lighting firecrackers in his childhood backyard with his family. his pa was lounging inside the kotatsu with his ma and watching the new year’s eve concert on the tv. his younger sister was playing with her niece and chika, the family’s japanese spitz. 

they just finished a day of tending to the farm, making sure that the animals can hold out for today and tomorrow as all of them would be too drunk and hungover after the celebrations. the farmhands would be checking the fields now and then. the meians were determined to welcome the new year right. 

shuugo was setting up the mini fireworks display that was going to be lit once midnight strikes. yura, his younger sister, set michiko down on the floor of their kominka that is facing the backyard. she hummed as she watched him. shuugo had a bad feeling and he was pissed he didn’t have the foresight to evade her prying eyes.

“mimi told me somethin’. so. ya had a date, eh?” groaning, he flicked snow on the girl who danced away, scarf fluttering in the wind. she sat on the elevated platform a few inches from the ground with a shit-eating grin. he should’ve just agreed when she wanted to stay back in her college dorm for the holidays. 

“yura, i swear to god, if ya don’t shut up.” setting the last of the fireworks stands upright, shuugo dusted his winter gloves and walked back to sit beside his sister to wait for the countdown to start. if she thought he’s going to yap at prattle on about osamu—

“this a first though. mimi seems fond of whoever this is. ya looked ecstatic after ya guys’ outin’ too” heat swarmed up to his face all the way to his ears. a hand came up to cover the side of his face as he started to mumble. 

“ … he’s michiko’s swim coach. he’s from hyogo, his kansai’s real strong when he's with us. he’s real sweet. he’s gorgeous. he’s younger than me, kinda, ‘bout 6 or 7 years. but he sometime has a temper like his twin, he’s real fuckin’ stubborn. he’s a damn good swimmer, ya should see his form, ‘s beautiful. he likes cookin’ aside from bein’ a greek god in the swim club, kid’s actually has a license like real ramsay shit. he has the roundest cheeks i’ve ever seen, second to michiko after she was born, bunches up a lot when he eats. real cheeky, stole a buttload of kisses from me already. he likes it when i grow my beard, weird. a pain in the ass, a real menace once he and michiko got real close. he pouts a lot. he never, i mean ever, goes down a fight without gettin’ what he wants, kinda sexy really.” sue him, he’s gonna brag about his man. 

“he likes it when i compliment him, his cheeks gets so rosy it’s cute. he’s startin’ to give michiko nicknames. he makes us bento and takes us to dates, both of us, in osaka. he never leaves michiko out. he likes it when i pat his head, or kiss his forehead, or hold his face, or when i let him hug me tight during his breaks whenever i go over at the swim club. he makes me want to take care of him. i want him. ‘f course, that’s me talkin’. never wanna pressure him. only want him happy, i guess. ” the palm covering his smile was not doing its job properly as yura can see the lovesick glaze in his brother’s hazel irises. it makes her want to give him a noogie yet also hug him for finally being able again after all those years. you know, some of that good old sibling love. 

swiping her phone out, she snapped a picture of him looking like a lover lost in the rain as he zoned out staring at nothing in particular at their backyard. real simp stuff. 

“oh, fer the love ‘o god,” shuugo rolled his eyes.

his sister cackled and twirled her pigtails mischievously like a madman, “sorry, sorry. can't believe ya'd be this whipped fer anybody else that isn't mimi, look at’cha." 

after minutes of shoving the phone in her brother’s face and yelling at his whipped ass, yura finally settled down, content and smiling at the same picture.

"s'nice seein' ya happier, nii-san. has he said yes to ya yet?"

silence. 

yura felt like she should’ve kept her mouth shut. she can hear the leaves rustling, why won’t he say something!?

"what?" yura inched away from him a few meters back. is he for real?

 "what." shuugo’s palm dropped away from his face and gaped at his sister. is she for real?

"waddya mean has he said yes yet?! i'm not even courtin' him yet?"

yura wanted to slap him upside the head, load his ass into a cannon, and aim it to the atlantic. what the fuck did he say? after all that gooey shit he said, after literally waxing poetic about a grown man’s cheeks? damn, she didn’t expect her brother to be this dumb, having a daughter already and all. 

"ya dumb as hell, nii-san. then waddya call all this shit ya just told me then, were ya doin' a matin' dance?!"

when life gives you lemons, you squeeze the damn thing at their faces. honestly, if she doesn’t say a thing, his brother might be flaring his feathers forever at the poor guy. 

"i don't appreciate yer tone, young lady."

"yeah well, i don't appreciate ya possibly leadin' on such a nice man. ya haven’t cleared the air between ya guys haven’tcha? ya guys have just been flirtin’ back ‘n forth. does he even know that yer this gone fer him? do you know if he’s this gone fer ya? god, ya guys have been given the balls and yet ya don’t use ‘em well."

it’s true that he and osamu have been kind of dancing around each other ever since september. the man was everything and more, but he can’t help but go back to his earlier thoughts right at the start of whatever this is. michiko lost one-half of her parents at such an early age, she wasn’t even old enough to remember her for fuck’s sake. shuugo avoided commiting to steady relationships because the only thing that became a constant to him the moment he became a father was his daughter. it has always been michiko and him from the start. 

but then osamu came. osamu with his allure and his cheekiness. osamu with gentle hands and strong arms that cradled michiko close when she had a sprain and was throwing a fit about not spending time with her coach, cradled shuugo home after a loss during a practice match. osamu who wheezed when he laughed too much because michiko was eager to eat his homemade bento for her. osamu who insisted that they have to bring michiko on dates because they would both be sad. osamu who said that it was okay if he already has michiko, that he’ll have both of them.

osamu who slowly, slowly, slowly made him tumble down, down, down.

but he’s scared. he’s so far down that if they did take a step only to find out that he’s not ready, it’s going to hurt. he’s scared to hurt him if they have to let go. there’s so much at risk here for him and he’s sure osamu was also risking things by trying to get with a single parent who was at least a couple years older than him. he’s scared they’ll be making mistakes, god forbid he ever makes osamu cry. if things go awry and don't work out, he doesn’t know how he’ll cope in the aftermath, not when the younger has already forced his way into his and michiko’s lives. how will he go back to being strangers with someone who already made everything else strange but him?

but the biggest mistake would be… not taking the chance to have him at all. 

realization felt like being doused with a cold bucket of water and showering under the spray of the water with the heater on at the same time. 

"fuck ya, yura. i hate'cha when yer right." his little shit sister grins wide at him and made shooing motions at him. 

he told michiko they would be going out for a while and yelled out some shaky excuse to his family that he has somewhere to be as he threw on his and michiko's winter coats. his younger sister yelled back to take care and close the door. he dialed osamu up and felt a bit guilty when he did not let the other speak and hung up after he muttered a garbled “samu, m’sorry, sorry, need ya. need to see ya. please.”

“what’cha say to yer brother, why he runnin’ ‘s if the fires of hell s’on him? ‘s he gunna be a’right?” 

“heck if i know! he's always runnin' around like a headless chicken as if this is anythin' new. hopefully, he'll be runnin' towards somethin' now.” 

after minutes of anxiously pacing back and forth and giving his daughter a mini headache, it feels like catharsis when osamu steps down the train, equally frantic as shuugo feels that he barely manages to ask michiko to stay put and to not go anywhere before he zooms towards the younger. he’s going to explode and his chest is aching and his fingers are itching to envelope the other in his arms. the station is close to empty but the blood roars in shuugo’s ears as he clutches the younger’s arms once he reaches him, pulse jackrabbiting under his skin. 

his throat feels dry as he scans osamu’s face, grey eyes bright with worry and thick brows knitted in concern as the younger shifts his hand lower to hold the taller’s shaking hands. shuugo feels a cry come out of his lips as the younger starts rubbing his knuckles. he feels like floating when he spots the leather cord necklace snug around the column of the younger’s neck. 

“are ya guys okay? what—” osamu chokes when the taller yanks him forwards and grips his cheeks before smashing their lips together. it feels rushed, shuugo is desperate to get it across that he doesn’t want osamu going anywhere. the shorter stumbles back but shuugo snakes an arm around his waist to keep him close. 

prying slick lips open, osamu whines lowly in his mouth as shuugo’s tongue delves inside. not a moment of reprieve for the other, shuugo’s eyes fell shut as he flicks his tongue around before nipping at osamu’s lower lip. he leans down, knees weak, as fingers rake up his fuzzy undercut. he’s turning into putty, the weather is cold as balls, yet the only thing the taller registers is the wet warmth of the other’s mouth.

osamu feels his legs twitch as an arm goes up to circle around the taller’s shoulders, eyes lidded in confused ecstasy. shuugo is crushing him to his firm chest and he can’t stop himself from copping a feel up and down the other’s pecs. he moves back, breaths coming out in short pants, but shuugo follows him and holds his lips captive once again. 

osamu's mind is reeling, he can’t think, he’s not complaining but his brain is turning to mush as the taller sucks on his tongue, his lips, his fucking being. their lips are swallowing each other with every desperate nip, every greedy lick, every slick glide against each other. he doesn’t know if he’s dreaming but he thinks he’s whispering “shuugo” every time they separate a bit for air. he wants shuugo to drown him in whatever this is, hold his sanity hostage. he wants shuugo to hold him.

shuugo doesn’t know how long they locked lips but he eventually slows down to pecks and close-mouthed kisses. panting, he leans his forehead on the other’s and opens his eyes to look at osamu, thoroughly debauched, eyes blown to hell, and lips pulled into a soft, tiny smile. he’s so beautiful, god. he thumbs at the beads of the younger’s necklace. 

"am i courtin' ya?" afraid to break the tranquility of this moment, to suddenly be shaken awake that this is not real, shuugo whispers. smoke billowing between them from their ragged breathing, hand sliding down to the side of the younger's neck and rub at the pulse point. osamu’s palms encase his cheeks, calloused thumb rubbing at his cheekbones. 

"i would think that ya are. why,” leaning closer, osamu tiptoes a bit to suck on his lower lip harshly, “aren'tcha?"

holy shit . shuugo laughs in disbelief, amusement and relief flooding his face as he finally, fucking finally, pulls the younger in his arms. osamu buries his cold ass nose in the crook of the older’s neck, lips touching and breath tingling his skin. 

"god, i like ya so much ya don't even understand, ya make my heart hurt s'good. goddamit, 'samu. let me court ya, pretty." he doesn’t care if he sounds like he’s begging, he’d be damned if he won’t get to have osamu. chest feeling tons lighter, shuugo sways them side to side in glee as he feels the giddy nodding of the younger on his neck coupled with a few light kisses, osamu’s fluffy hair rubbing at his now clean-shaven jaw. 

“hey,” shuugo’s blood runs cold for a moment, fuck me , they made out where his daughter can clearly see them. god damn, what if he had mistaken all the signs? what if michiko thought osamu was just a passing fancy? what if she doesn’t like osamu for her dad? what if she’s just doing it for him and doesn’t really approve?

they say panic impairs your judgement but michiko’s approval really is important for shuugo.

michiko, despite his reminders to not leave where he left her, has somehow walked towards them and is now frowning with her lips turned down. oh fuck .

 “i wan’ kissies too! s’not fair if s’only the two of ya!”

everything is quiet for a moment. until shuugo snorts. 

barking out a laugh, osamu leans down to carry michiko in his arms. michiko looks considerably happy having twin kisses, one on each cheek, as orange and yellow burst above them in the night sky with two overlapping pairs of arms holding her securely between two adults, the sound of the station bustling filling the silence along with the fireworks.

well, shuugo is certainly content hugging two of his favorite persons as they welcome the new year with osamu’s head resting on his shoulder and shy fingers squeezing his own as they balance his daughter.

winter is when time is at a stand still, a season of waiting on thin ice. uncertainty palpable in the air with vast room for doubts and niggling worries. but with winter soon comes spring, where everything thaws. where everything begins. and if it’s osamu, shuugo thinks he and michiko are slowly becoming ready. 

-

courting is more of a formality, really. making things exclusive yet not official, shuugo insists on osamu being wooed as he deserves. osamu is an impatient guy, although, really, he can’t complain when the man practically babies him whenever they see each other at the swim club. 

tall and awkward shuugo with his hulking form towering over almost all of his students and yet he’s taken into assisting him handle the kids during swim club hours at weekend. big and strong shuugo leaning down to engulf him in a hug, lifting him up in the air a few inches, even though he’s still wet from the pool and reeks of chlorine. “miss ya, haven’t seen ya the whole day,” is what he'll say and osamu chortles at the idea of black jackal’s strict captain turning mushy. 

spring brings blossoming sakura trees, picnic dates, school season, and hay fever. it's these four that ultimately lead to osamu finally getting what he wants; shuugo as a romantic partner, officially. and michiko as his official little gremlin too. life is starting to get good, if you ask osamu. exhaustingly satisfying, if you ask shuugo.

sakura trees were witnesses to their first official date since the courting proposal in hyogo. osamu giggled at the thought that the blooming pink petals were welcoming the beginning of their relationship. shuugo spent the rest of the afternoon with hot ears from the teasing and hot cheeks at the budding feeling in his chest. they didn’t hold hands because shuugo’s pr team might kick him in the nuts. they didn’t kiss because, again, his pr team might knee him in the balls. though the shy exchanges of stares, the chuckles bubbling between them, taking turns in flustering each other as they stroll across the park, and shuugo shielding the younger from an oncoming cold breeze are their little secrets. 

picnic dates involved chasing dogs and being chased by dogs. they went with michiko, their little princess carrying the picnic basket and they couldn’t stop cooing because it seemed as if the basket was the one carrying michiko. the chasing dogs part was instigated by, of course, osamu. the younger regaled that he and his twin used to play around with their neighbourhood dogs back in amagasaki. shuugo, of course, had to carry both of them away once osamu bit more than he can chew and unknowingly provoked a feral stray dog. 

“yer dad’s real strong, ain’t he? our hero.” if michiko wasn’t there, shuugo didn’t know if he could’ve held himself back. osamu knew that he was being a little shit and took pity on the older man, settling for kissing him multiple times. 

another occasion, a school night, had the three of them flit around the apartment in a frenzy since michiko is running late. osamu’s heart triples in size when she kissed both him and shuugo goodbye, twintails bouncing as she ran backwards to wave at them. shuugo laughs at him and peppers his face with kisses when he starts to tear up. 

osamu and michiko both got hay fever at the same time; to say that it was an equally endearing and exasperating experience taking care of two babies is an understatement for shuugo. he took care of his daughter and overgrown baby boyfriend, both whining for his attention and using up the apartment’s tissue supply. the apartment was filled with sniffles,"daaaadd~”, and “shuugooo~” that week. that was the longest time the younger had stayed over with them. osamu had to take a sick leave from the swim club. michiko took a week-long absence. shuugo came home tired from practice only to be greeted with burritos with stuffy noses assaulting him with hugs and kisses by the genkan, “welcome home” at the tips of their tongues as osamu latched onto his waist and michiko onto his legs. shuugo never thought it was possible to fall deeper. 

osamu threw the older a curveball—really, shuugo should’ve seen it coming with how insistent osamu got—by showing up at their apartment on a spring day in the middle of april, a few months after shuugo’s headstrong request of courtship, a “yes” on the tip of his tongue. shuugo and michiko slept on the floor of the living room that night, netflix on the tv, under the fairy lights of a haphazardly made blanket fort, heads pillowed on a broad chest. 

shuugo easily falls into a new routine that now accommodates not just one other person, but two. kitchen utensils for two easily became three, the coat rack by the door gets occupied by his dark coat and osamu’s navy blue swim club jacket, the shoes in the genkan finally getting a shoe rack at osamu’s insistence, michiko’s drawings in school are taped up in the fridge and now contains three people instead of two, boarding the bus home from ohasukita with two people in tow. 

staying over each other’s apartment became a thing. sometimes it's just the two of them, most of the time it's with michiko. shuugo teases the younger until osamu is burning red everywhere for easily falling into a parental role, having baby proofed his unit since they became official. it's endearing to see osamu fretting the first time they stayed over, worries dispelled when his daughter immediately glomped osamu upon opening his door.

if it’s weekends, they stay at osamu’s since it's nearer to the swim club. shuugo laughs it off whenever osamu falls off the bed at his sunday alarm for sunday practice, the younger panics more than him that he’ll be late. that’s fine, the morning run in order to reach the roll call helps. 

if it’s weekdays, they stay at shuugo and michiko’s since michiko has school the next day. sometimes, osamu cannot stay for the night. most of the times, michiko holds him hostage with her deceptive puppy eyes. shuugo never did become immune to it; he doubts osamu will have any luck too. 

“aye, she has ya wrapped ‘round her fingers.” 

“... shuugo-san, ‘m surprised ya think i only stay because of michi-chan. ya cruel lover.” 

osamu blushes when shuugo holds him back from going home one time, stuttering when he answers that yes, he brought a change of clothes because he wanted to stay. they spent the night staring at each other, mapping each other’s visage and committing it to memory. they both feel like fools in a haze, peppering kisses on the apples of their cheeks and bumping their noses together. their legs tangling under the blankets as osamu shuffles closer and tucks his head at the crook of the older’s neck, breaths a steady warmth at the skin of shuugo’s neck in the dark of a chilly spring night.

“ya run so fuckin’ warm, ya can be my weighted blanket already,” the younger murmurs, already toeing the line between the sleeping and waking world. he deems the younger awake as osamu’s hands squeezes his ass. shuugo chuckles as he breathes in the lingering scent of shampoo in the crown of the other’s head.

“yeah? won’tcha wake up sweaty if ya stick to me all night?” shuugo replies back, voice barely above a whisper and muffled by osamu’s thick black hair. osamu wiggles closer, hands sliding up to encircle the older’s bare waist.  

“s’okay, shuu, wan' wake up next to ya.” 

shuugo moans internally, lamenting osamu’s adorable droopy state. he sleeps like a log, very much so, whenever osamu is with him. he makes a good pillow and a sight to see first thing in the morning.

he wakes up everyday, blessed to see his boyfriend, in his shirt, in his kitchen, cooking with his daughter. his. fuck, he feels like a teenager as he leans on the kitchen counter to watch the antics of his two idiot babies.

“but coach! pancakes an’ puddin’ please!”

“nah-uh, don’t think so little lady, yer eatin’ proper breakfast ‘round me. eat yer eggs and pancakes. an’ don’t forget yer milk.”

“coaaach~”

“michi-chaaaan~”

chuckling, he rounds the counter, towards their dining table, and bends down to kiss his daughter’s forehead who is now sporting pouty lips and is grumbling about stupid boys. he walks toward the sink, near the stove, and gravitates towards his boyfriend in a maid apron. 

“ya think she’s gonna take ya seriously with ya wearin’ that?”

“excuse me fer wearin’ what my boyfriend gave me, ya ungrateful geezer.”

“mhm, thank ya thank ya. our pretty and hardworkin’ osamu-chan.”

everything is peachy, so to speak. they haven't said the l word yet but it's fine. shuugo is going to work for it, both of them will. michiko slipped one time and called osamu papa and a heart attack has never felt so good. they’re not that different from one another but they’re also not that similar, they just make it work. is it really adjusting when it feels natural humming to a clingy osamu in the dark of the night? is it really adjusting when things they buy naturally come in pairs now like second nature? 

people might take one look at them and say they never saw it coming. they couldn’t see it from a mile away. the gap between their ages, the distance between their experiences, the probability of their paths crossing in the early years. 

and yeah, shuugo never saw miya osamu crash landing into his life until one day he finds himself waking up and takes one look at the man snoring softly on his shoulder. such a welcome surprise he is. he may not be one of the lucky ones like sakusa and atsumu who were given multiple chances to collide with each other throughout their lives. osamu may have just passed by some lucky chance. shuugo isn't even sure if some cosmic connection or momentous fate exists between the two of them. they may have been just someone ordinary trying to build something spectacular.

but damn, he’s so thankful to be one of the normal people that get to do the normal stuff. gravitating towards osamu feels like blood pumping away and towards his heart unlike the thunderous heartbeats of soulmates seeing each other again. falling for osamu feels like walking, one foot in front of the other unlike the weakened knees that comes with a thrilling and exciting college fling. no fireworks, no shortcuts, just shuugo being slowly and wholly besotted. completely being taken with the man that is learning to walk at the same pace with each other. 

so why on earth is shuugo sitting in the locker room like a crusty slice of bread? 

it has been a blissful two months of official domesticity with osamu, it comes as a surprise for the athlete that it has only been a short period of time. he was high on the honeymoon bliss the first month but now, as he stares at his phone screen, he feels an unwanted pit forming in his stomach. 

his chat with osamu is pulled up on the screen, the younger texting that he'll be a bit late tonight in visiting his apartment because he's going to meet with high school friends. friends who are near his age. friends who witnessed pretty young osamu bloom into beautiful adult osamu. he shakes his head, this is ridiculous. he’s twenty-nine, what is he being jealous of? absolutely ridiculous. 

“cap! can i head out early fer today? i’ll be meetin’ 'samu with our highschool team later.” sighing, shuugo flicks his gaze to their starting setter who also has the same face with his boyfriend. it's difficult when the man you lust over within the vicinity of your bedroom has the same face as the source of your migraine during practice. 

atsumu grins at him, fox-like, and claps his hands together to beg some more to be convincing. eyebrows twitching, he gives in and asks atsumu’s hovering boyfriend to take the headache away from him. damn it, how unfair was it that he and osamu had the same kicked puppy face!?

for the rest of today’s practice, shuugo’s blocks kept getting shut down by bokuto and sakusa. atsumu is so close to barking at him were it not for his decent job at holding the defense line with his receives. 

with the excuse of feeling a bit under the weather, he leaves barnes in charge of the team and heads back to the apartment early. he has to reign his stupid head back into place before he starts getting unsavory ideas. he won't let this get to him; he refuses to be the cause of their first fight. 

-

whoever said jealousy is a disease needs to fucking square up. shuugo feels as if he's at the terminal stage. 

osamu isn't blowing him off purposely, per se, but the amount of times over the past two weeks that he wasn't able to visit. either he's pulling an overtime or is going somewhere to meet someone or conking out in his own apartment right away. shuugo understands. 

he understands that they're both working adults with their own jobs and timeframes not overlapping each other’s. he understands that it's inevitable, spring is nearing its last month. june’s chilly breeze is starting to give way to the rise of the balmy haze in the region. of course his swim coach boyfriend will get busy. summer is the liveliest time of the year in japan. 

just his luck that when summer rolls in, osamu will get busier in the swim club with the influx of summer students while the v-league season ends in august during summer. 

is he actually jealous of a job? 

shuugo tries to reason with himself that it's not just the job but the people osamu is with. people who are nearer, within his reach. he can't deny it, the ages are starting to catch up with him. he's a father, he seeks stability not just for him but also for his little girl. whoever gets with him is in for the long haul. he is not some villainous asshole who would not allow takebacks. in truth, as much as possible, he keeps them away. for his sake and theirs. people his age have either paired up already and are on their way for settling or have chosen to remain on their own. shuugo has started to accept that he is not as lucky as the others. but then came osamu.

they are naturals at it, this relationship thing. every piece makes sense the more they spend time with each other. 

is drifting apart going to come naturally too?

standing up from his unmade bed, shuugo heads for the door. he’s grateful for such a capable daughter, he feels a bit shitty for letting this consume him enough to sulk for two weeks. he has to stop drowning himself with his thoughts.

“hiya dad! made’cha somethin’, papa taught me sammiches!” his heart burns, at the thought of how big of a part osamu is in their lives already and with how he misses him lately. he swoops his daughter into a hug growing tighter every passing second. 

he’s going to talk to osamu about it. because they're adults. because there are two people in a relationship. because he doesn't want this to end, not if he can help it. 

“’m home— hey whoa, what happened? everythin’ okay?” though he didn't expect for it to be this soon. it was a weekend, an early saturday morning of shuugo’s second week of internal anguish. 

osamu looks worse for wear but shuugo finds himself still catching his heart in his throat at how captivating he looks at his most vulnerable. the faint purple bruises under his eyes signifies late nights, the light smattering of stubble across his jaw highlighting his busy schedule and yet his eyes still has that magnetic glint that drew him in. has he been taking care of himself? shuugo aches to reach out but he doesn't know if he can keep his hand from trembling. so he didn't. 

silence passed. they didn't know how long they stood at the genkan. 

osamu is the one who reaches out and cradles the side of his face, his other hand intertwining with shuugo’s gently. it's then that shuugo’s constricted ribcage started loosening once more. they’ll be okay. 

so they talked. as the golden deity of the east slowly peeks through the morning blinds, shuugo talks. and osamu listens. then osamu hits him.

“yer so stupid. shuu, ya fuckin’ idiot.”

“i think i got it the first time, babe.”

osamu pouts and sinks deeper in the older man’s embrace, “no need fer ya to worry yer ugly ass head over anythin’. ‘m just as gone fer ya, ya blind bat.” 

osamu mumbles something incoherent and shuugo tilts his head down, “what was that, 'samu? can’t hear ya, babe.”

yelping from the sudden bite on his neck, shuugo is faced with burning cheeks and fiery liquid silver. he doesn't know whether to be terrified or horny. or both. fuck .

“if anythin’, i'm supposed to be the one worryin’! ya already have michi! 'm a kid compared to ya! and yet— and yet—” the older man isn't able to hear the rest of the sentence, he already tunnel visioned into smothering his lover in kisses. he's overcome with the immense feeling of love and relief and content and everything in between. he finds it hard to believe that a man so precious is this smitten with him.

he barely registers osamu’s chapped lips molding with his and arms encircling his neck as he pulls the younger to straddle his lap on the sofa. it has been two weeks since he last had osamu this close, since their warmth has met that they don't know where the other ended and the other started. it has been two weeks since they held one another. god, he misses him. 

“forgive this old man fer lovin’ ya so much, osamu. i don’t think i’ll ever let’cha go.”

shuugo’s heart swells as the younger shuffles closer to him and pushes him down on the sofa, osamu burying his head on his chest. two, tall, grown ass men do not fit in a two-seater sofa, not when both of them are well past six feet. but they move around a bit to find a position they are comfortable in and bask in the silent bustle of early morning osaka. it’s amazing how the worries dissipate as quickly as they form. osamu is just that amazing, he guesses. 

-

their relationship reaches its zenith during shuugo’s vacation. it's not a complete off-season since the summer leagues are still there, but it’s technically an extension of the august-september off-season since the tourneys will focus on acclimating the new recruits. 

osamu attended the final tournament of the season, the kurowashiki tournament. msby was pitted against a college team in the semifinals round after beating ap green rockets in the prelims. and osamu was in the stands with a meian and a number four emblazoned on the back of his shirt, michiko on his lap. 

the two descended from the stands to the court sidelines during the break between game one and game two. the team, having been on babysitting rotations before, warmly welcomes their little cheerleader. they thought nothing of it when they saw the younger miya coming in together with youngest meian, a large hand holding a tiny hand safe in his grasp. they were, after all, immediate family of two of their starting members. none of them paid attention to their captain's number on osamu's shirt instead of his twin's.

“mi-chan! didja miss me and yer uncle omi!?”

“tsumu-san! yes! saku-san too! missed storytime with ya guys! please play with me again sometime, please!” 

“eh? what about me? what about our movie nights, michiko-chan?!”

“yer so funny boku-san, i missed watchin’ ghibli with ya an’ aka-san too!”

“i missed michiko the most!!”

“hina-san me too!! bring yer nerf guns to ours again pwease.”

shuugo sighed, exasperated, as his little witch princess managed to make his entire team swoon. again. what idiots. but then again, maybe he's one too. 

he felt the presence behind him before he saw it. the next thing he registered was osamu nosing his nape and planting small kisses on his sweaty skin, hands clutching discreetly at his jersey. he smiled and let him. it wasn't that they’re hiding their relationship, they just do not feel the need to tell everyone. let them discover what they had just like how they discovered each other.

"hm, tsumu-san, ya really look a lot like papa." 

"mi-chan, m'really flattered ya think i look anywhere as close to cap." 

"not dad, papa!" 

he watched as the blond setter scrunched his face in confusion, the little devil behind him stilling in his ministrations. he remained quiet as michiko ran back towards the two of them, stepping aside as osamu knelt to catch their daughter.

"papa!" 

"heya princess." 

michiko giggled as osamu blew air towards her face, grinning as he stood up to carry the girl on his hips. the silence in their part of the stadium was so thick, shuugo was sure he had to jackhammer through it. the first one to snap, of course, was their resident drama queen who managed to look frozen and ready to bolt at the same time. atsumu looked like he was dangling between passing out and losing his shit. 

"oh. oh . oh no ." 

"love." sakusa inched towards his lover but shuugo was quicker. he started walking towards the older miya, hands raised in front of him as if placating a feral animal. well, he kind of is. 

"atsumuㅡ i can explainㅡ hey, why are ya runnin'!?"

"why are ya chasin' me?! ya just started walkin' towards me and i panickedㅡ stop chasin' me cap!" 

osamu, blowing raspberries with michiko until a few moments ago, frowned in confusion at the disarray that had managed to take place in just a short time. it wasn't even ten minutes since they descended the stands. the team was in various states of shock and amusement. shion was collecting bet money from adriah and barnes. bokuto was clapping loudly and wolf-whistling. hinata was screaming for some reason. and sakusa was trying to calm down his stupid twin.

"hon, why is yer dad chasin' my idiot brother?" 

"told tsumu-san that papa looks alot like him, he thought i meant dad."

osamu cackled when his twin started chasing him, rearing his head like a bull. he ran with michiko securely in his grip, he winked at shuugo when he passed by him but ultimately he and michiko were having fun playing tag with atsumu to even care that shuugo was about to shit himself for both of their safety.

once atsumu’s brotherly instincts finally receded, the teasing was relentless. it was like being brought back to his momentary lapse in judgement by having a short-lived crush on suna; he wanted to jam a sock in his mouth, sakusa being around be damned.

“oh my god, ‘samu, ya got yerself a dilf boyfriend.”

“i’ll skin ya with a toothpick.”

“no, seriously, didja really hafta do the jiggy with my captain? really ?”

“yer dead meat, ya scrub.”

the twins were a hair's breadth away from lunging on each other, their boyfriends watched the exchange with a startling amount of fondness and exasperation. sakusa welcomed his captain to the consequences of having the audacity to date a miya. honestly, he’d let the two fight it out because that was how they probably communicate but then he’s team captain. he doesn't want to penalize their starting setter or they’ll be in deep shit for the last game.

“boys. language. i know i sent michiko with shion fer food but if she ever heard ya two sayin’ shit like that, i’ll hafta dice ya.” 

he was about to berate them even further but was taken aback at the sharpness in atsumu’s gaze. molten gold honed like a hunter’s trained on him and it bore down heavily. he felt like he was being tested. the older miya’s silence was asking him to dare cross the boundary. and cross he did; he did say he always liked a challenge.

“atsumu. about yer brother and i, i know that… i know that i am a divorcee and a single parent. ‘s a huge commitment to make. but trust me when i say that i love him. i love him as much as i love my daughter. please allow me to take care of—”

shuugo was ready. he was ready to fight for osamu if needed to be, he was not letting osamu go. he was ready to do anything to get atsumu’s blessing. but then his setter gave him a harsh clap on his shoulder, grin stretched wide and feral. 

“don’t shit yerself cap, it’s … ya guys are good. ‘samu’s a scrub but he has a good head on his shoulders, he knows what he’s doin’. ‘m happy fer ya guys, really. i just can’t believe ya guys went behind my back! ya guys are gonna get it from ma and pa!” 

atsumu’s devious chuckles and osamu’s sheepish grin left shuugo with conflicting feelings that day. 

right. holy shit. they have to meet the parents.

-

"real cute, 'samu. get back 'ere and gimme my shades back."

"yer no fun, sugar. don't i look good in this?"

"too good, baby. but michiko's here. and we're in public. can't really eat yer face off now, can i?"

the august sun beats down on their skin harshly.

summer in japan brings tremendous heatwaves enough to fucking fry an egg on shuugo’s exposed back. msby is currently at the beach due to hinata insisting it is the perfect time for some beach volleyball and some team building. they lure close friends in the machiavellian torture under the sun with the promise of reprieve of cooling down in the water and hanabi fireworks.

and of course, his lovely little shit boyfriend chooses to take every opportunity to rile him up. his swimmer physique makes its appearance once again, in full golden glory. osamu looks gorgeous tanned, his muscles flexing and highlighting places not safe for public viewing. the leather cord necklace is proudly worn around osamu's neck; he looks like a wet dream on legs at the beach. shuugo is one step away from going feral. 

he doesn't know whether it is a blessing or a curse that the miya twins’ skin are bronzing quite nicely in the summer sun, being hyogo born and raised.

the friendly match finished earlier than anticipated and the team went their separate ways for the day, opting to relax with the social circles they brought with them. one part of the beach is extremely raucous with the entire karasuno team showing up. shuugo steers his daughter and boyfriend away from the crowd and was about to head further down the beach when atsumu and sakusa offer to take care of her for a while. 

“don’tcha guys want some alone time?” osamu aims a kick to his twin’s back. shuugo has to stop himself from groaning at the flash of skin pulled taut over a muscled thigh.

“what about’cha and yer omi-kun then?”

“oye, we have the room to ourselves at night. ya guys have mi-chan in the cabin.” 

“all right, that’s enough. captain, if it’s okay with michiko, we can be with her in the meantime.” thank fuck for sakusa kiyoomi. he smiles gratefully at their outside hitter. looking down, he is just about to ask his daughter but is surprised to see her already zooming towards the other two. 

“come back fer me later during fireworks! i’ll hunt lil' shells fer us!” 

waving goodbye in a daze, shuugo lets himself be dragged by his lover towards the numerous food stalls scattered by the beachfront. sighing, he braces his wallet. 

watching osamu inhale every available food in the vicinity has been a fascinating experience. and an earth-shattering one, too. shuugo can't help himself from tucking back osamu’s longer roots behind his ear, commenting if the younger would want to trim it soon. the bastard gives him a cheeky smile.

“aw, but i like it when ya tuck my hair. makes me feel pretty, shuu.” 

he never pegged osamu to be a messy eater, that’s a position reserved for atsumu, but here he is. chastising his lover to slow down or he might get indigestion while strolling across sandy streets. he'd hate to cut their alone time short. 

forever spoilt because of shuugo, the younger of the two closes his eyes and pouts toward him. it took shuugo a moment to realize that osamu is asking him to wipe the other’s messy lips instead.

“ya fuckin’ child.”

“ain’t that why i’m callin’ ya daddy for.”

they're in their fourth food stall, a snow cone stand this time, and shuugo’s eyes keep on straying down his boyfriend’s ass. it's as if those thick glutes are calling for him to squeeze them. osamu’s blue swimming trunks fit over them nicely. he wants to cover it from anyone else. 

“seein’ somethin’ tasty over there, sweetheart?” 

eyes drifting up and meeting with lidded gray ones, shuugo grins. he snakes an arm around the younger’s very much naked, very much tapered waist. jesus, his fingers sliding across the skin send white hot heat spreading across his groin. 

“aren’tcha done with yer food, hm? wanna get out of public, baby. ya’ve been rilin’ me up all day.” 

japanese summer provides no respite for the beachgoers. the electric and paper fans of stall vendors give little bursts of relief. slippers and sandals slapping on the sandy pavement, wet soles tracking loose sand everywhere. the loud atmosphere of the beach and the festival stalls blending into a cacophony of white noise as two bodies grind together, seeking cover in the trees.

sticky fingers slide down shuugo's front, unbothered with the flavored snow cone melting from its cup, and leaves a sticky trail of melted sweet followed by sticky lips and wet tongue. the slow and steady palming on his crotch pulls out a muffled moan from the older when osamu starts squeezing his dick through the fabric.

shuugo's hold on osamu's thigh tightens as he hikes up a leg around his waist, caging the younger between him and the bark of a tree in the thick of a foliage near the beach. they were far enough that nobody can find them right away but near enough to spark excitement coursing through their spines. 

the stinging pain on his scalp as osamu pulls him down for an open-mouthed kiss that tastes sweet and wet and hot sends the taller into delirium. tongues tangling, saliva mingling, teeth clacking. osamu's nails scratch red angry marks down his biceps when the older starts to inhale the younger's breath. the filthy squelch of sucking osamu's tongue only fueling their hardening lengths rubbing against each other. he shudders at the thought of red scratchmarks forming in his arms later, shit . 

shuugo moans, his voice hoarse and raw, when osamu ducks away from the kiss to latch aggressively on his neck. his pulse point feels sore by the time osamu pulls away with swollen and spit-slicked lips. he lures him back in. 

the buzzing of cicadas grows louder and louder, masking osamu's muffled shouts of pleasure. shuugo is kneeling down in front of him, kissing the outline of the younger's cock through his shorts. osamu rakes his fingers across the older's cheekbones and grips his jaw, pushing him closer to his pulsing crotch.

"yer so goddamn hot, 's so stupid. yer makin' me stupid." osamu pants as he looks down at the older grinning up at him. his cock twitches when a firm wetness laps at his length. 

shuugo works to send osamu's knees buckling. under his lax state, the younger shakes through the tremors of his post-orgasmic daze. shuugo follows him to the peak moments later when osamu crawls toward him and unceremoniously bounces on his clothed dick. 

"i bought yer mom those wooden foldin' fans she likes. saw a hawker sellin' ones near the swim club with floral designs." shuugo smiles at the sleepy tone. he's carrying osamu on his back, the other is mumbling softly on his neck. the younger's arms clasped loosely around shuugo's neck and his thighs are held firmly by the taller. the sun is sinking slowly in the horizon, they didn't realize that their tryst would take hours.

"yer fuelin' ma's obsession. she's got glass cases, wall mounts, and everythin'."

osamu grumbles in protest and kicks his legs out, "ya think yer any better when ya indulged my pa with a day in yer fields the first time we visited yer ranch in kobe? ya even gave ma baskets of produce." 

"is it bad that i want them to like me fer ya?" shuugo hums in contentment when he feels him snuggle closer to his back. he chuckles when osamu starts kissing his nape. 

the moment his feet feel the coarse texture of sand underneath his soles once again, a resounding boom lights up the sky. a shower of warm yellows and reds rains down their silhouettes. next thing he feels is hot puffs of air and a smile ghosting the lobes of his ear.

“remember winter?” shuugo feels his face being tilted upwards, fingers squishing his jaw. he smiles into the kiss as his eyes slide shut, osamu’s crescent eyes brilliant in the moonlight imprinted at the back of his eyelids. fuzziness spills down his throat, warming his chest, and making the hearth deep within his stomach flicker. 

he belatedly realizes that their lips aren’t slotting together perfectly. that their teeth are clacking against each other. that their noses are bumping together. that sand is sticking everywhere because they are both sweaty and moving around too much. and that’s because they are busy laughing in each other’s mouth and shuugo is busy keeping them upright. 

if this is what finding a home feels like, he wants to keep on finding osamu every single day. 

michiko shouts “okaeri” as soon as she sees their figures from a distance, sparklers in each hand.