Archive of Our Own

Suna checks the paper in his hands one more time just to be safe. Gym Two, tryouts begin in just ten minutes. Suna isn’t stressed, considering he was personally requested to be here, but his stomach is twisting at the thought of seeing the team. He pushes the gym door open regardless and steps inside.

There’s already a lot of commotion. Those on the team are busy setting up the net and gathering volleyballs. Suna watches quietly as he slips on his shoes. He looks around to the other newcomers, trying to gauge their levels of nerves.

There’s four others, from what he can tell. Two of them are turned away from him, talking to one of the team members. Aran, Suna remembers. The other two are talking amongst themselves at the edge of the court.

The coach calls for everyone to gather around. The team forms a kind of semicircle around the first years. There’s a range of expressions staring back at them, from excitement to anxiety.

“Shall we start?” says a lanky boy with a kind smile, “How about all the first years introduce yourselves?” Suna remembers him from when he visited a few months ago, captain Minami.

From the other end of the line, one boy steps forward. He’s got a cocky grin that immediately turns Suna off.

“Miya Atsumu, Class Two.”

Beside him, a boy with an identical face steps forward. The cocky grin is missing, in its place is a blank expression. He looks almost bored, which piques Suna’s interest. Perhaps he’s here just for his brother?

“Miya Osamu, Class One.”

Suna notes that they’re in the same class. He doesn’t remember seeing him earlier.

“Kosaku Yuto, Class Two.”

“Ginjima Hitoshi, Class Two.”

He’s up next and the same nerves as before are filling his stomach.

“Suna Rintaro, Class One.” he says evenly, keeping his face neutral.

The captain smiles warmly at them and continues talking. He introduces himself next and the rest of the team follows. He explains the different drills they’ll be doing and Suna takes this time to look back down at the line of first years.

His eyes linger on Miya Osamu. He’s staring straight ahead but his eyes are fixed out the window. He trails a hand through his bangs, the dark hair sweeping across his forehead. Suna watches the motion, his eyes landing on Atsumu, who’s staring straight at him.

Suna flushes, embarrassed to be caught staring, but then realizes Atsumu isn’t staring at him. He’s looking at whoever Suna is standing beside—Kita, his mind supplies. Regardless, Suna fixes his attention back to the captain and doesn’t let it shift until they’re told to move.

They start off with pretty basic drills. Coach Kurosu wants to see how each of the newcomers handles different abilities. First they all do a few runs of serves. Suna hits four of the five well, with one annoyingly going out of bounds.

It’s impossible not to notice how well the Miya’s both do. Suna’s original assumption of Osamu not wanting to be there must be wrong, because he’s a powerhouse at the serve line. 

Atsumu too, which irks Suna for no good reason. It’s just…he’s a show off already and Suna doesn’t like people so obviously full of themselves. Atsumu’s little smirk doesn’t leave his face as he utilizes not just an incredible spike serve but also a jump float.

Next they start on spikes which Suna is more excited about. His spikes are good, and he knows it. 

A second year is setting for the five newcomers so Suna makes his way over to wait his turn. He’s third in line with Atsumu behind him. Osamu is in front of him, spiking the ball right on the line when he goes. Next is Suna, rushing up to the net with a practiced familiarity.

The set is pretty good, high enough for Suna to nail a spike easily. He lets his body do its thing, curving as if it’s following the balls path. His core tightens and his hand collides with the ball with a satisfying smack.

“What the fuck was that!” Atsumu exclaims.

Suna’s shoulders tense, the balls spike resonating around the room.

There’s a stunned silence in the gym. Suna glances at the coach, who’s smirking.

“That was so freaky! Hey, Suna! Are ya good? Is that normal? Looks like ya tore yer body in half!” Atsumu continues to yell from behind him.

“Ignore my brother. He’s an asshole,” Osamu says as he walks towards Suna, that same bored look on his face. “It was a good spike, he’s just jealous he can’t do that.” He lobs the ball he’s holding back into the crate.

Surprisingly, the annoyance in his body dissipates slightly and Suna watches Osamu curiously.

He’s continued walking, getting back in line for another spike. He still looks completely uninterested in everything they’re doing. Suna can’t figure him out. He’s been nothing but great so far but does he even want to be there?

Suna finally moves, going to retrieve the ball he had spiked. They finish up that drill after a few more spikes each and the coach calls for them to take a water break.

Suna goes straight to his bag, not actively ignoring anyone but not attempting to join in on the chatter. He’s drinking from his water bottle when Osamu comes up beside him.

“Hey,” he says as he takes a drink from his own bottle.

Suna offers a hello back, not sure where to go from there.

“I didn’t know you were gonna tryout. I was talkin’ about it this mornin’ in class and ya didn’t say anythin’.”

Suna stares at him, trying to remember what he’s talking about but coming up empty. He had seen so many new people that everything sort of blended together.

“I sit near ya,” Osamu offers, probably noticing Suna’s uncertainty.

“Oh, I uhh,” Suna starts but he really doesn’t remember seeing him.

“Don’t worry about it, s’no biggie.” Osamu says, waving a hand in dismissal.

Only it seems to be kind of a big deal, Suna notes, going by the nervous smile and the way Osamu scratches at the back of his neck, his eyes darting around the gym.

“Yer not from around here, are ya?” Osamu switches the topic, his head tilting to the left and dark hair drifting to cover his eyes.

Suna shakes his head, “I’m from right outside Nagoya. But I got scouted to come here.”

Osamu grins at him, the first time Suna’s seen him with any other expression, and he’s taken aback for a moment. His lips curl up at the left, the lopsided smile fitting perfectly on his face. Belatedly, he registers Osamu saying, “I can see why.”

A burst of pride blossoms in Suna’s stomach and he smiles back. Then Osamu is off, yelling something to his brother.

Suna’s chest feels tight as he watches Osamu walk away.

The rest of practice he focuses on nothing but volleyball. He ignores both the Miya’s, for vastly different reasons. The team all individually come up to him, asking how he’s doing and just checking in. It makes Suna feel more at ease, the fact that the team is being open straight off the bat. He was slightly worried they’d all pretend they didn’t know him, despite meeting once before. When they finish he helps clean the gym with everyone and then leaves with a goodbye to no one in particular. He walks home slowly, still trying to familiarize himself with the area. 

The next morning when Suna gets to class the first thing he does is look for Osamu. It seems the other boy is looking for him too, because they lock eyes almost immediately.

“Sunarin!” Osamu calls out, happily getting up to meet him.

Suna’s eyebrows furrow at the nickname but…he doesn’t hate it.

“Morning,” Suna says when they get closer.

”You excited to get the team roster?“ Osamu asks as they walk together to Suna’s desk.

He shrugs. He knows he’s going to be on it, and he’s more than sure the Miya’s will too.

“Tsumu won’t shut up about being starter setter.”

Suna hums in response. Osamu doesn’t seem to mind the lack of words though, continuing on.

“He’s probably gonna get it too, I saw Coach watchin’ him every time he set.”

“You were both good.” Suna offers.

Osamu snorts, “Gee thanks, Sunarin. So supportive.” He knocks their shoulders together. They’re silent for a minute, Osamu perches himself on the desk beside Suna’s and watches him unpack.

“Ya don’t really say much, do ya?” Osamu asks, though there’s no judgment in his voice. Instead, he looks slightly amused, a twinkle in his eye as he stares at Suna.

That question usually ticks Suna off, but hearing it from Osamu strangely doesn’t. He’s not saying it like he’s the butt of the joke but rather like they’re part of some kind of secret joke together.

Suna shrugs, “If I have something to say, I say it. If I don’t, why bother.”

Osamu’s grin brightens, “Yer funny, Sunarin.”

There’s a beat where neither boy seems to know what to say. Then Osamu is leaning forward excitedly.

“By the way, yer spike yesterday, insane. I know I told Atsumu off for bein’ a dick about it but it really was so cool! How do ya even bend like that?”

Suna can’t help but smirk, hearing the genuine curiosity in Osamu’s voice. Suna gets asked about his spike a lot, and more often than not he finds it annoying. Not that people find it cool, but that they ask the same questions. There’s only so many times he can say “it’s a lot of core exercises and strength training” before it gets old. But he finds he doesn’t mind talking to Osamu about it.

“I realized I needed to get better than just “good” in middle school,” Suna starts as he places down his bag, “I’m not really an ideal height for a middle blocker, but I don’t want to play a different position. So I figured I’d do something no one else was really doing. Watched some VLeague games and saw someone spiking like that and worked until I could do it too.”

“That’s gotta put crazy strain on yer torso, doesn’t it?”

Suna shrugs again, “I do a lot of stretches and core training. I’m used to it.”

The way Osamu is staring at him makes Suna look away. He feels exposed, suddenly, and he’s not sure he likes it.

“Oh, Shiba-kun, do ya wanna switch desks with me? I wanna be next to Suna.” Osamu says when a boy stops beside the desk Osamu is sitting at.

“Where’s yours at?” Shiba asks.

Osamu points behind them, a desk three spaces from where they are now. No wonder Suna didn’t see him yesterday.

“Yuna-chan sits beside me.” Osamu continues with a smirk.

“Alright, fine.” Shiba says with an obvious blush.

Osamu gets up to grab his bag and when he comes back he says, “Shiba’s had such a crush on her since middle school. Everyone knows, and she totally likes him back but neither of them will make the first move.”

Suna nods his head. He’s still learning everyone’s names so at least this gives him a little backstory to connect them to.

Their teacher walks in then, calling for everyone’s attention. Suna glances at Osamu, and ignores the giddy feeling that stirs up in his chest.

-=-=-=-

Suna falls into a steady rhythm as the weeks carry on. Their house doesn’t quite yet feel like home, but it no longer feels like he’s living in a stranger's house. His routine flows into place as school picks up. He’s got volleyball practice first thing in the morning, classes, lunch, volleyball again, dinner, some homework and whatever show or video game he can cram in before he goes to sleep. Then he wakes up and does it all over again.

It’s similar to middle school, Suna thinks, because even when there was no volleyball he was still practicing. He was constantly out in their yard practicing his spikes and getting his technique down. His little sister had even joined him most days, rambling about school while Suna did spike after spike. He’d lost countless hours in the setting sun, hands aching and a stitch in his side.

Only now, there’s Osamu. His perfectly crafted routine has a new rhythm he can’t help but follow.

Volleyball practice first thing in the morning with Osamu, classes with Osamu, lunch with Osamu, volleyball again with Osamu. And when Osamu isn’t there, Suna is thinking about him. He thinks of him when doing his homework, wondering if he’s finished it already or remembering something funny from class. He thinks of Osamu when he watches a drama they’ve talked about or plays a game he thinks he’d like.

It’s a new experience for Suna. He’s used to being pretty solitary. Sure, he had friends in middle school but he wasn’t particularly close to them. It was more due to the fact that he played volleyball with them. His family is just his mom and sister, and the three are close but with how much time volleyball takes up in Suna’s life, he doesn’t see them as often as he wants. It’s like Osamu’s crept into every inch of Suna’s life while he wasn’t looking, and now Suna can’t picture it without him. He’s never had a friendship that’s felt this natural. 

With how quickly he and Osamu clicked, one would assume he and Atsumu are just as close. They spend almost as much time together but where Osamu’s fit right in Atsumu has instead sharpened all of Suna’s edges. Atsumu seems to make it his daily goal to rile Suna up, making jokes about him or laughing when he messes up at practice. Suna tries his best to ignore it and not let it bother him. So what if Atsumu doesn’t like him? But on more than one occasion Suna has snapped back, leaving both simmering until they’re out of each other's sights.

Part of the routine they’ve all struck up is the daily walk home. They live in relatively the same direction, with Suna’s house about ten minutes closer to school. They pass a small park on their way home and more often than not, the three pass around a volleyball while the sun sets.

Today is no different, and Atsumu is as annoying as ever.

“Nice serve, Sunarin.” Atsumu teases, Suna’s serve having pathetically missed even hitting their side of the net before falling to the ground.

Annoyance bubbles up in Suna’s gut, threatening to spill over the edge.

“Fuck off.”

Atsumu laughs. 

“Seriously, lay off Tsumu, worry about getting your cross shot down before talking shit.” Osamu says, throwing the ball back to Atsumu.

Atsumu makes a noise of discontent but Suna filters it out. He stares down at the grass, kicks at a pebble laying in front of him.

Why can’t he and Osamu practice on their own? How can anyone stand to be around Atsumu for so long? Suna sighs to himself. Takes a deep breath. 

They’re brothers. And Suna doesn’t actually hate Atsumu. But damn if he isn’t the most aggravating person he’s ever met.

“We should probably start heading back.” Osamu says.

Suna glances at his phone, it’s later than he expected. 

“Yeah, I think so too.”

“Man,” Atsumu says, drawing out the vowel, “can’t we just toss a little more? Samu’s right, my cross shot needs way more work.”

Suna avoids his immediate response to point out that playing on a grass court isn’t going to help all that much, and instead says nothing.

“C’mon Sunarin, I know you want to.” Atsumu says in an annoying high pitch. “And you can redo that shit serve.” Atsumu adds.

Suna’s temper skyrockets and he turns around in a flash.

Atsumu’s eyebrows fly up to his bangs and his mouth drops open. “I was only joking!” he says quickly.

Suna clenches his fist and breathes out. He needs to calm down.

“Can’t you just not be an asshole, for like, five minutes?” Suna mutters, staring at Atsumu.

Atsumu closes his mouth, eyes widening.

“I…” Atsumu starts but doesn’t finish.

Suna breathes harshly out of his nose and glances over at Osamu. He’s got his bottom lip between his teeth, looking stressed beyond belief.

Almost like the universe is trying to diffuse the situation, the skies open up and rain begins to pelt down on the boys. 

“Shit!” Osamu yells, trying in vain to cover his head with his hands.

The boys rush to grab their discarded bags. It’s a total downpour, Suna’s soaked within seconds.

“My house!” Suna yells over the rain.

The twins nod and they bolt out of the park. They run as fast as they can, slipping on the already soaked pavement. The rain is freezing as it comes down. With it, Suna’s temper chills out too.

They arrive back at Suna’s house, laughing, out of breath, and drenched to the bone.

“Oh my god,” Hikari, Suna’s mother exclaims when they burst through the door, “go dry off, the three of you. I’m calling your mother and telling her you’re spending the night. I’m not sending you back out in that storm.”

There’s no objections from the boys (a sleepover on a school night? It’s like they won the lotto) and they all tred upstairs leaving a trail of soggy footprints in their wake. They take turns showering quickly, Suna offering some pajamas to the twins to change into.

“Sorry about my brother,” Osamu says. He’s toweling dry his hair while Suna lounges on his bed waiting for Atsumu to leave the bathroom.

“I know he’s bein’ really annoyin’ but it’s just cause he likes ya.” Osamu wrinkles his nose at that, “Er, not like he’s teasin’ ya cause he has a crush or somethin’. I mean, I like ya too. A lot. Obviously. We both like ya.” Osamu stops talking and drags a hand down his face, letting out an exasperated huff. 

“This is comin’ out all wrong.”

Suna laughs quietly at Osamu’s expression. Osamu’s eyes brighten and he flips Suna off. There’s a spark in the air, Suna knows they can both feel it. It’s making him giddy.

Osamu takes a deep breath and then restarts, “Tsumu and I didn’t have a lot of friends in middle school. We fought each other a lot and it kinda turned people off, so we mostly had ourselves and Aran. And it’s like, Tsumu shows his love by being a dick, so he’s teasin’ ya and pokin’ fun because he’s treatin’ ya like family. So just give him a chance. I don’t want ya to stop hangin’ out with m—with us because Tsumu is a dick.”

Suna stares at Osamu in silence once he’s done. Osamu nervously rubs at the back of his neck, waiting for Suna to talk.

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.” Suna expands briefly.

If that’s true, it kind of makes sense. And it makes way more sense than Atsumu disliking him, he supposes.

From the doorway, Atsumu clears his throat, shuffling into the room like a puppy with its tail between his legs.

“I’ll be…bathroom.” Osamu says.

Suna watches as he and Atsumu stare at one another, eyes flicking about in silent conversation.

Osamu leaves and now it’s just the two of them. The air feels tense, but not the good tension between him and Osamu, an awkward, bad tension.

Suna isn’t sure who’s supposed to speak first. Atsumu seems to be mustering up the courage to say something though, so Suna keeps quiet.

“I shouldn’t have been actin’ like ya already wanted to be my friend before I checked with ya.” Atsumu says, right out of the gate.

“All the teasin’ and shitty jokes. I just, you and Samu get along so well and I wanted to too. Not that Samu can’t have his own friends but, well yer cool or whatever, Sunarin. And we’re on the same volleyball team. So I jus’ thought, I jus’ thought I’d treat ya like Samu and we’d get along too.”

Suna feels a tug of a smile on his lips, “I don’t hate you, if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

Atsumu looks relieved, so Suna continues on, “I thought maybe you didn’t like me because you were so…much. I want to be your friend. I am your friend. I think we just need to work on not being so annoying to each other.”

A small smile graces Atsumu’s face. “Yer a better man than me, Sunarin.”

That makes him grin, “Obviously.”

When Osamu comes back into the room, it’s to the sight of Atsumu and Suna on his bed, bickering but with smiles.

The three boys find themselves sitting in Suna’s kitchen, wearing mismatched sets of Suna’s pajamas and drinking hot tea Hikari just finished brewing.

“Rin-chan, would you grab another mug?” his mother asks as she goes to pour a final mug for herself.

Suna does as he’s told, going to the cabinet behind the table where his sister, Keiko, is currently finishing her homework.

She’s staring at the Miya’s quizzically.

“Who’s who?” she asks.

Atsumu smiles at her, “I’m Atsumu, he’s Osamu.” he’s back to his normal energy, all charming for the new audience.

Keiko turns her attention to Osamu, narrowing her eyes at him.

“My brother talks about you all the time,” 

Atsumu lets out a yelp of laughter, looking over to see Suna’s shocked face and his brother’s stunned one. 

“So does mine.” Atsumu says to Keiko with a smirk.

The pair of them grin at each other. There is no way in hell Suna is about to let his sister and Atsumu team up on him.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed by now?” Suna grumbles, not meeting either twin's eyes.

Keiko sticks her tongue out at him, “Shut up, I’m studying.”

“Then focus on that.” he answers back, placing the mug on the table for his mom.

“Be nice, you two.” Hikari scolds but Suna can see she’s biting down a smile.

“He started it.” Keiko mumbles.

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

“And you complain about us fightin’ all the time.” Atsumu chides.

“Well, when you two do it, it’s annoying. When we do it, it’s endearing.” Suna says and he ruffles his sister's hair. She purses her lips but allows it.

Osamu laughs and Suna finally looks up at him. He has an easy grin on his face, eyes on Suna and his sister.

“Let me go check where our extra futon is.” Hikari says and begins to stand but Atsumu raises a hand and says, “No need! We don’t mind sharing.”

Hikari raises an eyebrow, “All three of you?”

“Really! We’ll be fine, thank you,” Atsumu assures and flashes his award winning smile.

Hikari raises her eyebrows at her son, and Suna just shrugs in response. He doesn’t mind sharing, not really. If all three of them end up sharing his bed that just means it’ll be more cramped for the two who would’ve been up there anyway.

Suna’s heart flutters when he makes eye contact with Osamu.

When they get to Suna’s room again, Atsumu assesses the situation.

“I can sleep anywhere.” Atsumu boasts, laying out on Suna’s bed with a deep sigh.

“Right, idiot, but all three of us have to sleep here.” Osamu says, and shoves Atsumu hard.

Suna busies himself with getting an extra blanket from the closet. Best to let the twins hash things like this out on their own.

“Suna, where do ya usually sleep?” Osamu asks.

“Next to the wall.”

“Okay, so let’s do Suna, me, Tsumu. Sound good?” 

Everyone nods their agreement. Next, once again Atsumu’s brilliant idea, they file into the bathroom and brush their teeth together. Suna’s unfortunately found himself in the middle, Miya elbows flying at him from all sides.

Finally, they all make it back to Suna’s room. Suna presses as close to the wall as he can but even so, with three high school athletes, it’s a tight fit. He isn’t sure if he should face the wall or face Osamu. But once Osamu settles further into the bed, head turned to Suna and a lazy smile on his face, his decision is made.

“Comfortable bed,” Osamu says quietly.

“Mhmm.”

“I’m big spoon.” Atsumu calls out next. He drapes a leg and arm across both of them, pulling them even closer. Suna’s pressed firmly against Osamu’s front, and he feels about ready to burst into flames. Their faces are inches apart, so close that Suna could count the specs in Osamu’s eyes.

“Are ya both cozy?” Atsumu stage whispers.

There’s a shuffle and then he lets out a pained groan, Suna assuming Osamu has kicked him under the blankets.

“Just tryin’ to bring us all closer.” Atsumu mumbles but he lets his hold on them loosen, though his arm stays there.

Suna takes that opportunity to turn on his other side. He doesn’t like the off rhythm pattern his heart is currently beating in, and facing Osamu is making it worse.

He lays there for a while, eyes trained at the wall, listening to the twins breathing even out.

Suna finally closes his eyes and focuses on getting to sleep. 

A soft touch makes him jolt, eyes flying back open. A tentative hand reaches out and rests on his shoulder. So soft it might not even be there. 

Are you awake? Osamu doesn’t ask but Suna answers anyway, shifting his leg under the blanket.

Is this okay? Osamu doesn’t ask but Suna answers anyway, leaning into the touch as best he can.

Osamu squeezes his shoulder gently and then trails his hand feather light down the expanse of Suna’s back. He keeps the touch light, tracing patterns and swirls into the cotton of Suna’s shirt.

It feels almost like he’s tracing characters, but Suna is too flustered to make out any words. All he can do is focus on the sensation. Osamu rubs across his shoulder blades, thumb pressed against the part of his spine in between them, massaging there for a bit. He continues down the rest of Suna’s spine, lightly scratching at his back with blunt nails.

Suna has barely moved a muscle since the whole thing began, afraid that moving and even breathing too harshly will make Osamu realize what he’s doing and he’ll stop.

Suna doesn’t want him to ever stop.

A cascading river of warmth flows from Osamu’s fingertips onto Suna’s skin. It runs wherever his fingers go, creating pools where Osamu pauses, canyons where he retraces. Suna melts into the touch, his eyes closed and his breaths evening out. Osamu starts pausing for longer and longer, before he stills completely. When Suna finally drifts off, it’s to the comforting weight of Osamu’s hand in his back.

Suna wakes up in the early morning before his alarm. He sits up, rubbing his eyes. Sometime in the night Atsumu must have gotten up and raided Suna’s closet, as he’s now on the ground sleeping in a pile of blankets.

Not that he looks uncomfortable. Far from it actually, if the sprawled out pose and apparent puddle of drool against his face are any indication.

While that sight may have amused him, the other has a completely different effect. Osamu is curled up next to him, still so close despite the extra room. His hands are tucked close to his chest with his right hand loosely holding onto a corner of the blanket. His face is the picture of innocence, Suna thinks, mouth slightly parted, eyelashes fanning over his face prettily, and his usual unimpressed expression smoothed into one of contentment.

Suna lays back down beside him, not moving an inch, and closes his eyes. They’ve got at least another hour. Might as well use it.

The three of them wake up to Suna’s alarm. Osamu had stayed in that curled up position, stretching out when Suna turns off the alarm. They make eye contact, Suna’s mind immediately flashing back to the night before. 

“G’morning.” Suna says.

“Mornin’.” Osamu replies, sitting up and looking to the ground at Atsumu.

Atsumu is lying on his side, staring up at them.

“Morning boys.”

None of them say much after that, too sleepy to joke around. Suna’s mother had put all of their wet clothes from yesterday in the wash, so they have clean uniforms to wear for the day.

They don’t talk about it. Not that Suna would know what to say. Remember last night when you rubbed my back? Is that considered cuddling? Also, what the fuck? But Osamu acts like nothing even happened.

Suna has been casting quick glances at Osamu the whole morning. Osamu is acting perfectly natural, goofing off with Aran at practice and making fun of Atsumu. It’s as if last night had never happened.

At lunch, Osamu is late. He had to stay behind to talk to their teacher about a quiz, as Suna informs everyone. When he finally gets there he plops down beside Suna, easy grin on his face.

“That took forever.” he complains with a sigh.

Suna’s frozen in his seat. Not only had Osamu sat down so they were pressed side by side, but he hooked his ankle against Suna’s.

“What didja do?” Atsumu asks, grabbing at some of the grapes in his brother's lunch.

Osamu goes on to continue but Suna can hardly hear him. All of his focus has shifted onto their connected ankles. Everytime Osamu moves in his seat as he eats, Suna can feel it. He’s staring down at his mostly finished lunch with a tense expression. He can feel his cheeks heating up. He looks up, and Atsumu is looking at him. Atsumu doesn’t say anything to him, but Suna’s face heats up even more.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom.” Suna says abruptly, standing up in a rush.

Their friends turn to look at him in confusion.

“Huh? Oh, okay.” Osamu says, “I’ll just meet ya back in class.”

Suna nods, his heart beating in the same off rhythm as last night. The rest of the day he feels the same way, only worsening when Osamu looks at him.

Later that night Suna is back in his room, sheets still messed from this morning and blankets still strewn across the floor. He sits at his desk to try and get some homework done.

It’s futile, because his thoughts are consumed with Osamu.

Okay, Suna can be logical about this. Obviously, he’s attracted to Osamu. There’s really no way around that. His heart has been fluttering when they’re near each other, he was interested in the boy from that first day of practice.

However, it’s not like he has a crush. No, no Suna wouldn’t go that far. He can admit that Osamu’s attractive but a crush? 

There’s no way. His feelings are strictly platonic, even if he can acknowledge he’s good looking.

Whatever happened last night…that was fine. It was just a little bit of back rubbing, who would pass up on a massage anyway? And, Suna reasons with himself sternly, Osamu knows how much strain Suna puts on his core everyday. There’s really no need to overthink any of this.

Suna sighs and pushes his textbook further away from him, resting his elbows on his desk and putting his head in his hands.

“It’s fine.” Suna breathes out.

The voice in his head points out that people who talk to themselves generally aren’t fine. Suna metaphorically flips it off.

He stands up from his desk, pacing over to his bed and picking up the forgotten blankets. He starts to fold them in an attempt to distract himself.

Okay, look. Osamu is attractive. He just is. There’s no crime in Suna acknowledging that. In fact, Atsumu is hot too! Suna yells at his subconscious, but they both know he’s reaching.

The twins might have the same face, but Atsumu has never captured Suna’s attention quite like his twin. Their shared cocky grin seems so conceited on Atsumu but unfairly charming on Osamu. And while Atsumu seems to exude a smug attitude, always so proud, Osamu’s passive expression makes it seem like he couldn’t care less sometimes. And dammit if Suna didn’t find it incredibly intriguing.  

So.

Osamu is attractive. Yes. As long as Suna keeps that fun fact to himself, there’s no need to worry. He’ll get over whatever issue his brain is having when he’s near him, and he’s sure everything will be business as usual.

-=-=-=-

A few weeks later, Suna finds himself squeezed into the bathroom at the Miya’s house, the twins crowded around the mirror with boxes of bleach and hair dyes scattered about the sink.

The twins are shirtless, much to Suna’s dismay, not wanting to get bleach or dye on any clothing. It makes sense but the bathroom is small and Suna really has nowhere to look but at them, but he doesn’t want to stare at Osamu because…he doesn’t want to. And he doesn’t want to stare at Atsumu because he actually doesn’t want to. To say he’s a little stressed would be an understatement.

“Why can’t you guys just go to a hairdresser?” Suna asks, eyes flitting about the room.

“Because we want to get it done now, and the salon doesn’t have any openin’s for another week.” Osamu answers, rubbing more product into his hands.

“And you can’t wait for a professional to do it because…?” Suna asks again.

“Because the Inter High Tournament is comin’ up and the team still keeps gettin’ us confused.” Atsumu answers this time.

“Sunarin can always tell us apart.” Osamu points out, gloved hand smearing bleach across his hair.

“Well yeah, but he’s Suna,” Atsumu seems to think about it for a moment, looking at Suna through the mirror, before asking, “how did ya figure it out so easily anyways?”

Suna is stumped for an answer. Because I’ve spent so long staring at Osamu’s face that I could never get you two confused again? I’ve been mesmerized by Osamu from the moment we met?

“Easy to tell when you never shut the fuck up, Tsumu.” he settles on instead.

Osamu lets out a snort of laughter while Atsumu loudly voices his objection. Suna ignores them both, trying to ease the nerves that have exploded inside of him.

“Can ya get the back fer me? I don’t trust Tsumu.” Osamu asks, looking at Suna and looking away quickly.

Suna nods, grabbing a pair of gloves for himself before lathering his hands with the bleach. His hand is shaking, he realizes, and frowns. He maneuvers behind Osamu, keeping his arms close to his body so he doesn’t touch him. He’s slightly taller than Osamu so he can see a few spots on the top of his head that the other boy has missed. His heart is beating unnaturally yet again.

He stalls for a moment, his hand inches from Osamu’s head. His mind is racing a mile a minute. His mind is flooded with possibilities of his secret coming out.

Will Atsumu notice?

Will Osamu?

“How much do you want done?” Suna asks, his voice softer than he wanted.

“Just the top. Keep the undercut black.” Osamu answers, voice equally as soft.

Suna stares intently, noticing Osamu’s basically gotten it all covered already. Instead of saying that, he reaches out again and drags his hand through the back of his hair, the longer locks picking up the bleach.

Osamu sighs softly, and Suna glances at Atsumu quickly.

He’s lost in his own world, working the bleach into the strands of his bangs carefully.

Suna reaches out and tentatively smears a glob into roots at the back of Osamu’s scalp. Osamu shivers, goosebumps appearing all down his back.

Suna freezes. In the mirror, he watches Osamu stare firmly at the sink.

“S’cold,” Osamu offers in the same soft voice.

“Sorry,” Suna whispers back.

Suna continues, careful to avoid getting bleach onto the wrong sections. He’s almost mesmerized by the sight of his hand carding through Osamu’s hair. Even if it’s covered in product he’s still delicately playing with his friends hair, watching his fingers disappear in the strands.

He doesn’t stop even when there’s nothing left to be done. His hand is basically out of bleach and now he’s simply stroking at the back of Osamu’s head.

“We should probably cover it now,” Suna murmurs, hand still moving despite himself.

“Probably,” 

Neither of them move. Suna wonders if Osamu will ask him to help with the dye too. He hopes he does.

“Why’re ya whispering all a sudden?” Atsumu’s voice cuts through the air, a shrill and loud interruption.

Suna’s eye twitches.

“Wouldja pass me a cap? Don’t wanna fuck it up now.” Atsumu continues, motioning to the shower caps they had laid out.

Suna drops his hand from Osamu’s hair and reaches for a cap with his clean hand.

“How’s the back look, Sunarin?” Atsumu asks, turning around and pointing at his hair.

Suna stares at it for a moment before combing a clump out and dispersing it more evenly.

“Seems alright.”

“Hell yeah! We’re gonna look so cool, Samu.”

“Can’t wait.” Osamu responds dryly but he’s fighting back a smile and his eyes are shining in obvious excitement.

Suna hides his own grin behind his hand.

They set a timer for ten minutes and leave the bathroom to grab a snack while they wait. Once the time is up they all head back upstairs.

The twins rinse off their hair one at a time, both coming back with mostly satisfactory bleached hair. Slightly orange, but successfully bleached regardless.

“Alright, tomorrow we’ll dye it. For now we gotta let it rest.” Osamu says.

Atsumu nods, excitement palpable. 

They head back to the twins room, starting to get ready for bed.

“I’ll go get the extra futon.” Osamu says, not looking at either of them before he goes back downstairs. A few minutes later he comes back, no futon in sight.

“I dunno where it is.” he explains, still not looking at anyone.

“Didja check the front closet?” Atsumu asks in confusion, “I swear it was there last time I looked.”

Osamu shakes his head quickly, “No I definitely looked. It wasn’t there. We’ll just have to share, it’s fine.”

“Alright,” Atsumu shrugs.

Osamu still won’t look at Suna, and he knows something is up, but if Atsumu isn’t going to mention it then neither is he.

Suna leaves to go brush his teeth next. When Suna comes back to the twins room, Atsumu is already settled on the top bunk and Osamu is sitting up on the bottom.

“Ya want to be closer to the wall?” he asks Suna, who nods.

Osamu scoots further up, letting Suna crawl into bed, and then spreads his legs out while he finishes typing whatever on his phone.

Suna lays down, trying not to think too much about it. They’re sharing a bed again. No biggie.

And it wasn’t even up for discussion. He wonders if Atsumu had called not sharing, or if Osamu offered.

“Night, boys.” Atsumu calls from the top bunk.

Suna and Osamu answer, still settling in.

Osamu lays down properly, his head close to the edge of the pillow by Suna’s own.

Suna shifts closer.

“You smell like bleach.” Suna says softly, wrinkling his nose.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Osamu snorts and they both struggle not to laugh too loudly.

The two of them lay there on their backs. There’s enough space between them that they’re not touching. To Suna, it feels like a great chasm compared to the last time they shared a bed. He wonders if Osamu is thinking about it too.

With as much uncertainty as Osamu had that first night, Suna softly bumps his leg against Osamu’s. He waits, holding his breath, for Osamu to move away.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he shifts his leg closer, their thighs down to their calves connecting.

Suna lets out a shaky breath. He doesn’t know how long they lie there, legs touching. Long enough for Atsumu’s breath to even out. Suna decides to make his next move.

He hooks the leg that was beside Osamu’s over him. His heart is beating erratically. He doesn’t chance a glance at Osamu, not wanting to see whatever expression might be on his face in the dim light from the window.

Osamu begins to turn—the biggest movement so far—and Suna’s heart flies to his throat. He’d taken it too far.

But no. Osamu doesn’t move away. He moves himself closer, turning on his side to face Suna and keeping one leg under him and throwing his other one over Suna’s top leg.

The position is reminiscent of a koala, completely wrapped around him–minus the arms. Osamu keeps those tucked against his own chest.

This is cuddling , Suna thinks to himself. This is definitely cuddling. The last time he could sort of write off but this? It’s completely deliberate.

And Suna only wants more.

He shifts himself into a slightly more comfortable position, one where Osamu’s knee isn’t digging into his thigh. As he moves closer Osamu wraps a hand loosely around his bicep. In turn, Suna places a hand over his.

Suna closes his eyes, keeping his hand on Osamu’s and taking deep breaths. Neither of them move more after that. They both eventually drift off.

Suna wakes up the next morning feeling entirely well-rested. He and Osamu had moved further apart in the night, but their legs are still tangled together under the blankets. 

“Mornin’, Rin.” Osamu murmurs.

Suna glances up, Osamu is staring down at him with a soft smile. Suna hums in response, snuggling further into his pillow.

Osamu chuckles, ruffling Suna’s hair.

“What time is it?” Suna asks hoarsely, turning back to Osamu.

“Not too late, just past nine.” Osamu answers, still running his hand through Suna’s hair.

Suna hears someone walking up the stairs and immediately Osamu’s moving his hand off his hair and under the blanket.

Right after that, the door swings open and Atsumu is standing in the doorway.

“Ma’s makin’ eggs, she wants ta know if yer awake.” Atsumu says through a mouthful of bread.

Still groggy from sleep, Suna feels bolder than he ought to. Under the cover of the blankets he snakes his hand across Osamu’s stomach and clasps their hands together.

Osamu’s breath hitches but he holds on just as tight as Suna.

“What kind?” Osamu asks his brother. His voice is higher than normal.

Atsumu shrugs, “I dunno, they’re eggs. Ya want ‘em or not?”

Osamu turns to look at Suna, and it’s unfair really, that Suna gets to see him like this.

Hair messed from sleep, eyes puffy and lips red. His left cheek has an imprint of his pillow. Suna wants to trace the lines down his face, run his hands through his soft hair.

Only after another moment does Suna realize he’s supposed to respond.

“Uh,” his voice croaks, “that’s good with me.”

Osamu turns back to Atsumu and Suna can breathe again.

“Eggs are good,” Osamu runs his thumb across Suna’s knuckles, “we’ll be down in a few.”

Atsumu stares at them for a moment. Either he hasn’t noticed or he’s politely ignoring what’s going on.

Only one of those sounds like the Atsumu Suna knows.

“‘Kay.” and Atsumu is walking out and shutting the door.

Osamu continues to gently run his thumb over Suna’s knuckles and Suna is so content he could drift back off to sleep.

“We better get up before Ma comes up here herself.” Osamu says.

Suna nods, and they both sit up, Suna heading to the bathroom first. He immediately misses the contact.

Suna spends most of the day at the Miya’s. After they eat breakfast they continue their makeshift hair salon. Suna helps both twins with the dye.

So what if he takes a little longer on Osamu?

It’s a little past noon when it's time for the boys to rinse their hair. They make Suna stay in their bedroom, claiming he can’t see the color until they’re completely styled. Suna sits on the bottom bunk, listening to the sound of the blow-drier and the twins squabbling.

Finally, the door cracks open and Suna looks up. Atsumu walks in first, beaming and puffing out his chest. The golden blonde hair perfectly styled against his forehead.

“Whaddya think!” he asks.

“Wow,” Suna lets out as he stands, “it actually looks really good.”

“Right!” Atsumu moves towards the mirror in their room, allowing Suna to finally get a look at Osamu.

And oh, does he look. Osamu is less expressive than Atsumu, but undoubtedly just as excited. He’s watching Suna’s reaction intensely, and Suna can’t help but gape, jaw dropping open. To be perfectly honest, he wasn’t sure why Osamu had chosen grey. He knew he wouldn’t have picked something as flashy as his twin, but grey just seemed boring.

But looking at him now, Suna couldn’t have been more wrong. He looks incredibly handsome, the color a perfect match for his complexion. Same with his eyes, which had seemed dark and brooding with his black hair, now show off the mirth that’s always been just under the surface. Osamu carefully swipes a hand through his bangs, looking at Suna expectantly.

“Well?”

“Good,” Suna gulps, “you look good.”

Osamu smiles, one of his soft ones Suna’s only seen a handful of times.

“Really good.” Suna whispers, not even sure it was loud enough to be heard.

“Look at that, we got Sunarin speechless! Toldja we’d look hot, Samu.” Atsumu says. He comes back around, slinging an arm around his brother.

Seeing them side by side is odd. They obviously still have the same features, but the new hair color completely transforms them both. They seem more like themselves, weirdly enough.

They hang out for a few more hours until Suna has to leave. He gathers his bag and looks around for his jacket before asking Osamu where he’d put it yesterday.

“Front closet.”

Suna goes to the closet Osamu had motioned to. He looks around the hangers, recognizing his jacket easily, but then something else grabs his attention. Just barely hidden away, shoved haphazardly in the corner, is the extra futon.

Suna grabs his jacket with a rush, shutting the closet a little too forcefully.

He says goodbye to the twins, not able to meet Osamu’s gaze. 

Suna walks home thinking about Osamu snuggled against him. Seeing the extra futon, basically hidden in plain sight, meant Osamu had lied about not being able to find it last night. And that’s why he was being so shifty about the whole thing. Which also meant he had wanted to share a bed with Suna again.They were cuddling the whole night. Suna doesn’t do that. He’s not an overly affectionate person, not touchy with his family. He certainly doesn’t cuddle with his friends at night to fall asleep.

And Osamu never acts like something is unusual, and Suna’s come to learn he’s just in general a more affectionate person than Suna is. So maybe it is all perfectly natural to Osamu.

The whole day Osamu had been nothing but normal, nothing to insinuate they had done anything out of the ordinary last night. A wave of deja vu crashes over him. Just like last time, Suna wasn’t sure if he should bring it up.  What would he even say? Hey, how come we cuddled all night again? Do you do that with all of your friends? It sounds ridiculous, even to him. So if Osamu isn’t going to make a big deal out of it, neither will Suna.

-=-=-=-

It’s the little moments that make it harder for Suna to deny his feelings.

Osamu is more considerate than he leads people to believe. It’s a quiet kind of consideration that makes Suna’s heart soar.

“Gooood mornin’, Rintaro-chan.” Osamu sing-songs as he walks into class, morning practice having been canceled that day.

Suna’s face scrunches up in distaste at the name and Osamu grins.

“Before ya yell at me, here,” Osamu says, reaching into the pocket of his bag, “fer yer troubles.”

An ice cold juice—grape, Suna’s favorite—is placed on his desk.

“Stopped by the vending machine on my way here, figured I’d grab ya somethin’.”

Suna smiles slightly at the unexpected gift, “Oh, thanks Samu.”

“Eh, don’t mention it.” but Osamu is grinning wider, staring off to the side to try and hide it.

Suna can’t look away.

Another day, another moment Osamu unknowingly shows how he cares.

“Ya ready to go?” he asks Suna once Suna comes back from his cleaning duty of the day.

Suna shakes his head, “I told Shiba-kun I’d bring these to the office for him.” He points to the papers on his desk.

“Ah okay, I’ll go with ya then.” Osamu says, as if there was no way he wouldn’t.

They both know they’re going to be late for practice. Neither mention it. They wither under the stare Kita gives them and the disapproving speech from the Coach, but when Suna glances at Osamu and he’s already looking back, Suna doesn’t regret it.

Later in the week when it’s Osamu’s turn to bring the papers to the office, Suna goes with him too.

They share their lunches, everyday, without question. It had started innocently enough.

“I don’t even like green peppers.” Osamu had said with a frown.

“I do.” Suna said and quickly swiped one out of Osamu’s bento. Not that Osamu tried to stop him.

The next day it was Suna with a complaint, “I don’t know how anyone can eat raw carrots.” 

Osamu snatched them with a gleam in his eyes, saying through a mouthful of food, “I’ll take ‘em.”

It only grows from there. These days it’s like second nature for them to place their lunches in between one another, picking and choosing from each. Suna makes sure he always pack extras of Osamu’s favorites (carrots and spring rolls) and Osamu always has extras of Suna’s (green peppers and jelly sticks)

Atsumu pouts in the beginning, “Samu never shares his food with me, no fair.”

But now he just steals an apple slice or two, and keeps his mouth shut. Because, well, it’s kind of an Osamu Suna thing.

And the final piece that solidifies Suna’s feelings is how touchy Osamu is. It’s not even the cuddling that does it. It’s the casual type of affection that’s entirely new to Suna. Both the twins are much more outwardly affectionate than he is. Not just with Suna, but with all of their friends. They don’t hesitate to throw an arm around their friends or pull them into hugs. It took Suna some time to get used to it but he’s gotten better at receiving it. From Atsumu.

But with Osamu it feels different, it always has. Atsumu will throw an arm over Suna’s shoulder, throw his legs over his own when they’re watching a movie on the couch, but it never makes Suna’s insides twist the way it does with Osamu. Atsumu could probably fall asleep right on top of Suna, and it still wouldn’t get him a fraction as flustered as a simple brush of Osamu’s hand against his does.

Like earlier that week, Suna was completely thrown off by Osamu. Suna was being a brat, because Osamu had spilled his drink all over Suna’s notebook while they were studying. He’d already apologized multiple times but Suna’s notebook was still soggy, so he hasn’t forgiven him yet.

“C’mon Sunarin, don’t be like that!” Osamu whines while they walk home. Suna’s ignoring him in favor of talking to Atsumu. 

Osamu huffs from beside him and Suna doesn’t have to look at him to know he’s pouting. Then Osamu wraps Suna’s hand in his own like it’s nothing, swinging Suna’s palm in his and tugging him closer. 

“I said I was sorry, what more do ya want? I promise to never eat when we’re doin’ homework again, how’s that?”

Suna knows that’s a damn lie but he can’t find it in himself to argue. He’s stumbling in his step, Osamu’s hand tightening in his.

Suna stares at their interlocked fingers in shock. They’ve held hands before–once, under the cover of blankets and the haze of sleep. But now it’s out in the open, under the setting sun, beside a busy street and Atsumu.

Suna snaps his head to the left, Atsumu is watching them, his mouth twisted and eyebrows furrowed. Suna flushes and looks away.

After that, Osamu links their hands together when they walk home from practice often. Atsumu never says anything but Suna catches him staring at their locked hands every time.

-=-=-=-

“Oh, Sunarin, ya busy Friday?” Osamu asks as they leave the club room one morning, “Aran’s comin’ over and I wanted to know if ya could join.” Osamu continues, sticking his hands in his pockets nonchalantly, “He’s been comin’ over every Friday for like, ever. So we figured you should come too.” 

“He usually spends the night, if ya wanna stay too.” Atsumu adds.

He’s being invited into a tradition, Suna notes. They’ve known Aran since middle school and Suna for just a few months. And they want him to be a part of their years-long tradition.

But, that’s normal. They’re friends and it’s fine. No need for his heart beat to quicken or for his chest to feel tight.

“I’ve gotta check with my mom, but I’m sure she’ll be fine with it.”

Osamu grins happily, knocking their shoulders together as they walk.

Friday rolls around and after practice Suna, Aran, and the twins make their way to the Miya’s house. When they arrive, Yumiko is making dinner in the kitchen.

“Boys! How was school? How was practice?” she asks, pulling her sons into tight hugs and placing a kiss on their cheeks. The twins answer her through mouthfuls of food they’ve already somehow gotten their hands on.

She wraps Aran into a hug as comfortably as she did her own sons. Finally she turns to Suna. He doesn’t have time to contemplate whether he should hug her as well, because Yumiko is reaching up and pulling Suna into his own tight hug.

“Rintaro-chan, so happy yer joinin’ us.” she says with genuine affection.

“Me too. Thank you for having me.” Suna answers politely. 

“Yer dad’s just finishing up in his office, the four of ya go wash up. Dinner in ten.”

The boys listen and go upstairs to get ready. When they come back down, Makoto is helping his wife set the table.

They all sit around the table, Osamu pulling Suna next to him.

“You boys have been in high school for how long and this is the first time yer having yer favorite teammate over for us to meet?” Makoto says, raising an eyebrow at his sons.

Both of them immediately begin stumbling over their words, denials and complaints on their tongues.

“They talk about ya all the time, Rintaro-chan.” Makoto says over his sons.

“It reminds me of when they first met Aran-chan,” Yumiko says with a smile, “they would talk our ears off about him.”

Suna can’t help his grin, turning to Osamu who is still animatedly denying everything.

“I have no idea what they’re talkin’ about.”

“Me neither. We probably only mentioned ya both, like, twice. If that!” Atsumu huffs.

Both twins are red in the face, and Suna feels his chest clench when Osamu looks back at him. 

“Samu-chan was tellin’ us you just moved here, how’re ya likin’ it so far?” Yumiko asks, sparing her sons a bit of embarrassment.

“I like it. It took a little while to get used to the area but I like the school and being on the team.”

“And what about yer family? Siblings? What do yer parents do?” Yumiko continues, placing a scoop of rice onto Suna’s plate for him.

“My mom.” Suna corrects. “She’s a hairdresser.”

“Ah, that must be why the boy's hair came out so well.” Makoto interrupts, giving a small nod of approval.

Suna smiles, “I’ve got a sister too, she just turned eleven.”

“That’s lovely. Are ya close?” Yumiko asks,

From beside him, Osamu lets out a disgruntled sigh, “Yah, Ma, this isn’t an interview.”

“Nonsense, we’re just getting ta know yer friend!” Yumiko says the same time her husband says, “What, we can’t get ta know yer friends anymore?”

Suna can’t hide his smile. It’s obvious where the twins get their attitudes from.

Once they finish dinner the boys clear the table and wash the dishes.

Aran comes up next to Suna to dry the dishes, grinning as he says, “They did the same thing to me when I first visited.”

“Weren’t you like, eleven?”

Aran shrugs, still grinning.

Suna grins to himself. The Miya’s are all loud, abrasive even. But Suna has never felt more welcome in a space so quickly.

The boys head into the living room once they’re finished. Osamu runs upstairs to grab some throw blankets while the other three decide on a movie.

“I call the end seat!” Aran yells, rushing to the long part of the sectional, Atsumu cursing and hot on his heels.

They both pile onto the seat, refusing to move an inch and simply maneuvering around each other until they settle against one another.

Suna sits in the middle of the couch.

Atsumu starts scrolling through Netflix, Osamu coming back with an armful of blankets. He throws one at his brother and Aran and then sits down beside Suna.

“I figured we could just buddy up,” he says, unfolding the blanket.

Suna nods, butterflies in his stomach just by the thought.

They decide on some robot fighting movie and after Suna and Osamu come back with snacks for everyone (Atsumu and Aran both refusing to stand up and lose their seat) they press play.

As the movie progresses, Suna looks over to Aran and Atsumu. Aran has his arm around Atsumu, and Atsumu is nestled against his side. But it doesn’t look romantic. Just comfortable.

Beneath the cover of their own blanket, Suna and Osamu have had their arms intertwined for the entire length of the movie. It was almost instantaneous. As soon as the blanket was over them they had both reached for one another at the same time. They’re both sitting cross legged, with Osamu’s thigh on top of Suna’s. They couldn’t be sitting closer if they tried.

They finish the movie and head upstairs to get ready for the night. 

“I’ll get the futon.” Osamu says as he leaves the room.

Suna tries not to feel whatever emotions he feels when Osamu comes back, actually carrying the futon (smugness? pride? anxiety?).

“I don’t mind sharin’ a bed.” Osamu offers with a shrug. 

“Same,” Suna responds quickly. He hopes he sounds casual.

“Alright awesome! Aran, take the futon and I’ll take top bunk.” Atsumu says with a grin.

“Fine with me. Beats sharin’ with one of the twins.” Aran says, which causes both Miya’s to complain.

They all get into bed, Osamu letting Suna get the side by the wall without a word. Just as they did the last time, as soon as they’re laying down Suna is throwing a leg over Osamu’s and pulling him closer. Osamu complies eagerly, getting as close as he can.

They stay up late, all four struggling not to laugh too loudly and wake up the twins’ parents. It’s some of the most fun Suna’s ever had. Slowly, they start to drift off one by one. Atsumu’s the first to go, then Aran. And then it’s just Suna and Osamu. Osamu drapes an arm across Suna’s stomach, gently running his hand over his side.

“Night, Rin.” he murmurs.

“Night, Samu.” he whispers back.

There’s no way to deny it now.

Suna has a crush. 

A giant, mushy, inescapable crush.

-=-=-=-

The weeks grow colder, ushering in autumn and shorter days. Suna continues going to the Miya’s almost every Friday. If he doesn’t, they usually come over the next day and sleep at Suna’s. At this point, Suna has slept beside Osamu at least once a week for over a month. Which also means it’s been over a month of weekly late night cuddles and not talking about it.

It’s fine.

Suna’s fine.

He’s been pretty good at keeping his crush in check. Sure, sometimes his stare lingers on Osamu at practice or in class. Sometimes when Suna watches him he feels like he can’t breathe. His chest feels tight and he has to clench his fists to stop himself from going up to Osamu and pulling him in close.

It happens at the most random times too, which drives Suna crazy. They’ll just be standing around talking and Osamu will make a face, that same bored look that had intrigued Suna from the start, and he’ll feel like his heart will explode with how much he likes the other boy. Or he’ll be watching Osamu out of the corner of his eye in class and he’ll brush his bangs out of his face, using a delicate finger to sweep them away, face scrunched in concentration. Suna’s unable to focus for what feels like hours after that one.

But he hasn’t slipped up. Isn’t planning on telling Osamu. Why bother? If Suna’s lucky, this crush will sort itself out and he’ll be back to normal in no time. It’s only at night that he lets himself picture them together, usually while wrapped up in Osamu’s arms.

After every sleepover, Suna feels Osamu’s warmth all over him the next day. He can feel the weight of his arm around his neck, gentle and sure. His hands carding through Suna’s hair. He traces his own hand over where Osamu’s had been and has to bite down a smile.

He’s thinking about it while pretending to study, Osamu sitting beside him. Atsumu is across from them, lounging on Suna’s bed.

“Ah, I gotta get goin’.” Atsumu says abruptly, sitting up and staring at his phone.

“You’re not staying over, Tsumu?”

“Nah, Aran told me he got the new Plague Healers, we’re plannin’ on stayin’ up all night to play.” Atsumu says casually, packing up his books from earlier.

Suna’s heart skips a beat.

“Oh, alright. Have fun.” he says.

“Don’t break his game again,” Osamu says.

“Fuckin’…it was one time. And by accident.” Atsumu grumbles. He gathers the rest of his stuff and all three of them walk to the door.

“See ya in the mornin’, try not to be awful to Sunarin.” Atsumu says and pulls his brother into a hug. Osamu’s response is muffled by his twin.

“Night. Sunarin. Try not to miss me too much.”

Suna rolls his eyes but hugs Atsumu anyway. 

“Good night. Text us when you get to Aran’s.”

Atsumu nods. Then he pulls on his shoes, casts a glance at Osamu and calls out a final goodbye and walks out the door.

“Didja want to watch a movie?” Osamu asks.

“Sure.” Suna’s heart beats faster.

It’s not like they’ve never hung out one on one before. But they’ve never hung out one on one with the prospect of being alone all night together. Even Keiko isn’t here, she’s having her own sleepover at a friend's house.

They walk back towards the living room, going through the kitchen when Osamu pauses.

“Got anythin’ to snack on?”

Suna thinks for a minute. He and Keiko had eaten the last of their chips yesterday after school. They’ve got fruit, but who wants to eat an apple when watching a movie?

“Mom bakes a lot from scratch, but I think we’ve got some mixes? Not sure about anything already made.”

Osamu’s eyes light up at that. “Can we make somethin’?”

Suna nods, surprised at Osamu’s enthusiasm. He leads him to the cupboard with all of the baking supplies. Osamu looks around, moving things back and forth until he finds what he’s looking for.

“You in the mood for brownies, Sunarin?” He asks with a gleam in his eyes.

Suna can’t help but mirror his excitement, nodding in agreement.

Osamu moves around the kitchen quickly after that. He takes out different things, eggs, cocoa powder, milk, all while Suna watches and takes out a bowl and the mixer.

“Ma taught me a special recipe and lucky fer us, I’ve got it memorized.”

“I didn’t know you could bake.”

Osamu nods, measuring out the sugar, “I love it. Cooking too. I usually help cook dinner on Sundays, since we’re always at volleyball otherwise. You got vanilla extract?”

Suna nods and goes to the cabinet again. He feels warm, and not just because the oven is preheating. Osamu is sharing something personal, something he obviously cares a lot about.

Osamu finishes making the brownies with little help from Suna. They set a timer for forty minutes and head back to the living room.

Instead of watching a movie they watch a few reruns of a variety show.

“I could totally do that.” Osamu says. 

The people on screen have to get a bullseye on a target.

Suna scoffs, “Yeah, because you’ve got perfect aim from playing volleyball. You should be disqualified for even trying it.”

“Those are two totally different sports!” Osamu argues.

Sune shakes his head, “You should have to do like, dancing or something. Something that doesn’t rely on skills you’ve already got.”

“How do ya know I don’t have dancing skills?” Osamu asks, puffing out his chest and looking completely serious.

They lock eyes and burst into laughter. The timer goes off in the kitchen and both boys get up eagerly, the delicious smell having been taunting them for what’s felt like hours.

“They’re gonna be hot, so we need to let them settle.” Osamu says as he puts on an oven mitt and reaches into the oven.

Suna frowns, “Can’t we just eat them now? They smell really good.” his stomach growls.

Osamu lets out a small laugh, his eyes bright as he stares at Suna. Then he goes to the fridge, opening up the freezer.

“Can we use some of this?” he asks, holding a carton of vanilla ice cream.

Suna nods and Osamu gets down two bowls for them. Then he gets a spatula (Suna is not at all affected by the way Osamu knows his way around his kitchen. Not at all) and cuts two big slices of the brownie.

He places one in each bowl, steam coming off them both, before adding a scoop of ice cream on top. He hands Suna a spoon and a bowl, watching him expectantly. Suna takes a generous scoop.

The brownie is mouth wateringly good all on its own but with the added chill of the ice cream it’s too good to put into words.

“Holy shit, Samu.”

“Ya like it?” he asks, nervous smile on his lips.

“Like it? You better make this everytime you come over.”

Osamu has a pleased smile on his face and Suna can’t get over how right this feels. How cute Osamu looks, standing in his kitchen and blushing over the fact that Suna likes what he made.

They bring their treat into the other room, this time actually putting on a movie with a bizarre summary. Neither of them care much to watch though, more inclined to talk over the movie and point out random things happening in the back. They’re lounging on the couch side by side, Osamu’s arm thrown over the top and Suna tucked comfortably into his side. 

They watch the sequel to the movie which is just as disastrous as the first, before they’re both yawning. They go up to Suna’s room, his heart beginning to flutter, and get ready for bed. It’s as if they’re both rushing to get into bed, because they’re in pajamas and teeth brushed in what feels like record time.

It’s darker in Suna’s room than in Osamu’s. Maybe that’s what gives them more confidence. Or maybe it’s the privacy, no Atsumu to peer over and see them.

Whatever it is, they’ve never been so blatant even with each other, about what they’re doing.

“C’mere,” Osamu whispers, pulling Suna against him.

Osamu has his right arm underneath Suna’s pillow, tucked out of the way for both of them. Suna is laying as close as he can be, snug against Osamu’s side, their heads mere millimeters apart. Their legs are tangled together, have been from the moment they laid down.

Osamu reaches out without a hint of trepidation, his left hand cradling the right side of Suna’s face. His thumb rests on Suna’s cheekbone, comforting and sure, while his fingers play with the longer hairs at the base of his neck. His arm is resting against Suna’s chest to be able to reach where he wants it, and it would be so, so easy for Suna to do what he desperately wants to and leave a soft kiss against his skin.

He doesn’t though, and instead focuses on not forgetting this moment.

Osamu has moved his hand further down, his thumb warm behind his ear. His fingers run gently— he’s always so soft when it comes to Suna— through his hair, smoothing it out. His blunt nails scratch lightly at his skin. Each movement, every caress sends Suna into a free fall, his stomach swooping, heart skipping, breath slowing.

Suna reaches through the pitch black for Osamu. He rests his hand against Osamu’s wrist, barely closing his fingers around so he can feel the soft movement as Osamu cards through his hair.

Everything feels like so much, it’s knocking the wind out of Suna. The tenderness behind the action, the quiet breaths against his temple. He wonders if his old inhaler is still around, should he need it.

Osamu is warm everywhere. Their intertwined legs, Suna’s thigh snug underneath Osamu’s knee, Osamu’s side pressed against his side with absolutely no room in between. Osamu’s hand against his neck, Suna’s hand against his wrist, and Osamu’s arm against his chest. Suna could live in this moment forever.

Osamu pulls Suna impossibly closer, slowly, and Suna thinks with a stuttering breath he’s going to kiss him.

But no, Osamu lifts his chin at the last possible second, tucking Suna’s head against his chest. It's like this, with Suna’s face against his neck and Osamu’s hand in his hair, that they fall asleep.

-=-=-=-

As has become routine, Suna finds himself at the Miya’s that Friday. Aran’s not able to make it tonight, but the tradition still stands with Suna. The twins’ parents are out so the three of them are spread out across the living room, music blasting, pizza box precariously placed on top of snacks on the coffee table, Street Fighter tournament playing out on the screen.

“Yes!” Atsumu yells, landing the final blow against the opponent.

He finishes celebrating, grabs his plastic cup from the table and asks, “Anyone else need a refill?”

Osamu and Suna nod, Suna taking the controller for his turn. He selects his fighter while Osamu hands the other two cups to Atsumu.

“Cherry, grape, or cola?”

“Two grapes.” Osamu says, already knowing what Suna wants.

It makes him smile as he starts up the round.

Neither of them talk as they wait, eyes glued to the television as Suna throws punches and dodges attacks.

Suna doesn’t look away from the screen when he hears Atsumu come back in. He listens to him shuffle over to the couches. Suna’s eyes dart over when, without warning, Osamu is jumping up and cursing at his brother.

“Ugh, fuckin’ hell Tsumu!” He grips his shirt, pulling it away from his chest as the soda drips down his front, “are ya kiddin’ me?” he grumbles as he rushes out of the room.

“Sorry bro,” Atsumu says, placing the two still full cups on the table. Suna glances at him and frowns. Atsumu has his ”my plan is working” face on. Suna turns his attention back to the screen as Atsumu cleans up the scattered spill on the ground.

Once he’s done he plops down on the couch beside Suna. He lets out a huff of air, sinking down into the couch further and stretching his arms out in front before letting them fall to his side.

“So what’s goin’ on with you and Samu?”

Suna freezes, his grip on the controller tightening. “Excuse me?”

“Y’know,” Atsumu continues, “are ya together?”

Suna stays frozen and watches his character on screen take a fatal hit from his opponent. The video game sounds of Suna’s defeat, the bright red font casting an eerie glow across the room.

“What do you,” Suna swallows, “what do you mean by that exactly?”

Atsumu sighs. He sits up and turns to face Suna.

“I like ya a lot, Sunarin. I really do.” Atsumu’s face turns cold. “But I love my brother. I know somethin’s goin’ on with the two of ya but Samu won’t tell me what. Which, fine. He’ll tell me when he tells me. But if yer screwing with him, I don’t care how much I like ya. I’ll kick yer teeth in.” Atsumu’s face is more serious than Suna has ever seen it. There’s not a trace of insincerity in his voice, no hint of a joke. 

Suna’s eyes widen at the threat, mouth going dry. He has no idea how to respond. He doesn’t even know what’s going on between them so how could he possibly explain it to Atsumu?

The silence between them is deafening. Atsumu’s stare hasn’t let up. He’s piercing through Suna’s eyes with his own, his usual cocky smirk drawn into a tight line.

Footsteps from down the hall alert them of Osamu’s presence just before he’s back in the room. Suna tears his eyes off of Atsumu, staring at the now dimmed television.

“Are ya stayin’ over tonight, Suna?” Osamu asks, oblivious to what’s just happened

“Uh…I actually promised Keiko I’d help her build that new bookshelf.” Suna says. Not technically a lie, but he’d never promised to do it tonight.

Osamu looks disappointed but he says, “Ah, okay. Tell Keiko-chan I said hi.”

Suna nods, feeling a pit in his stomach. “I should probably head out now anyway. Mom’s gonna be home late.” Suna continues.

He can feel both twins staring at him as he packs up his bag. His hands are shaking.

“Is everything okay?” Osamu asks, seeming to finally sense the odd energy in the room.

Suna nods, waving a hand in dismissal, “Yeah, I just don’t want to leave too late and have Keiko alone. But I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” and he’s heading to the genkan to put on his shoes.

“What happened?” he hears Osamu asking his twin.

He finishes tying his shoe, tugging his bag higher on his shoulder. Osamu is in front of him when he looks up, frowning in concern.

“What’s wrong? Did Tsumu say something to ya?” Osamu whispers.

“No,” Suna lies, looking away from Osamu’s eyes.

A mistake, because Osamu is stepping closer and reaching out, taking one of Suna’s hands in his own.

“Rin…” he starts, barely audible.

Suna’s frozen in place. He simultaneously wants to rip his hand away and melt into the touch.

“I’m fine, really.” Suna says nervously, squeezing Osamu’s hand before letting go. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” and he’s walking out the door.

He gets home in half the time, practically running from the Miya's house to his own. Keiko gladly accepts his help with the bookshelf. He listens to her talk about her day, complaining about one of her friend’s, offering his advice while she rambles. The whole time Suna still feels keyed up. Has Osamu been struggling because of him? Atsumu obviously noticed a change in his brother. But how is Suna supposed to explain what’s happening when even he doesn’t understand it?

“Do you want to talk about something too?” Keiko asks after a while.

“Like what?”

“Like why you're sad right now.” 

Suna can’t help but let out a small laugh. Somehow, he always forgets how observant his sister is. Especially for an eleven year old. 

“It’s kind of hard to explain.” Suna answers. 

“That’s okay, you can still try.” Keiko gives him a small smile, her tongue poking out where her front tooth is missing.

Suna takes a breath.

“I think one of my friends is mad at me. But I can’t talk to them about why they’re mad, because it involves…a situation between me and our other friend. I don’t know how to explain that situation because we’ve never talked about it.”

Keiko listens intently, her eyebrows coming together as her face scrunches up in concentration.

“And I’m not sure how to talk to that friend about our situation because I don’t want to make things weird between us.”

“But if you talk to Friend Two about what's happening, you can tell Friend One they don't have to be mad.”

“It’s not that simple.”

Keiko lets out an exasperated huff, “Nii-chan! Of course it’s that simple. Mom always tells us to speak up when we’re sad, and if you and your friends are all sad, you need to talk to them.”

She punches him on the arm, emphasizing her point with a pout.

“Hey!”

She turns her nose up at him, “You know I’m right. 

Suna frowns. She is.

“Fine. I’ll talk to them.” The thought makes him feel sick.

They move on, decorating the bookshelf with Keiko’s belongings before Suna tells her it’s bedtime. Suna gives her a kiss on the head before heading to his room.

He lies in bed as sleep evades him. He turns over, sighing, picking up his phone for the millionth time. He scrolls through his socials but nothing new comes up. He puts his phone back down. He stares up at the dark ceiling.

He doesn’t even know why having a crush on Osamu is sending him on such a downward spiral. If anything, he should be feeling giddy, happy. Isn’t that how people usually react?

But no. It’s a distressing discovery. Suna doesn’t want to have a crush on his best friend. He doesn’t want things to change. And in movies, things always change when feelings are involved. Someone ends up hurt no matter how you spin it. Not only does Suna not want to hurt Osamu, but he doesn’t want to get hurt either.

To face rejection would be…unbearable. Osamu’s only been in his life for a few months but the thought of losing him is enough to make Suna’s eyes water. He closes them tightly, refusing to let the tears pool. 

And he’s been sloppy, obviously, if Atsumu has noticed it. And now that it’s been spoken about, Suna can’t pretend nothing is happening. He really, really, likes Osamu. And you would think with everything that's happened, all of the cuddling and hand holding, Suna would be confident that Osamu likes him back.

But he’s not and it’s horrible. It’s like every interaction he thinks might mean something, he can explain anyway with Osamu just being Osamu.

A buzz from his phone pulls him out of his thoughts. He sighs, checking his phone and his heart stops at the notification.

Osamu

I think this is the first time in a while you’re not here on a friday night lol

A minute passes where Suna just stares at his screen. Then another text comes in.

I miss you

Those three words are like a punch to the gut. Does Osamu have any idea what he’s doing to Suna?

What he feels for Osamu, he’s never felt for anyone before. The crushes he’s had in the past had been fleeting, not lasting longer than a month before he lost interest. But with Osamu it’s different. Osamu makes his heart ache in the best and worst ways possible. He makes him feel like he’s floating while simultaneously keeping him rooted in reality.

It hits him suddenly why this crush is affecting so much. The problem is, the problem is that to Suna, they’re already acting like they’re dating. They buy each other snacks all the time, never keeping track of who owes who. They both pack extra of each other's favorite lunches without talking about it. They’re constantly around each other, and when they’re not they’re texting. They literally cuddle every night they’re together. It’s like all they’re missing is just telling each other they’re dating. And kissing.

And fuck, does Suna want to kiss him.

What he feels for Osamu is intense and all encompassing. It’s terrifying.

He stares down at his phone, completely lost for a reply. He thinks about not replying, but that would be cruel. He does miss him too. But saying that out loud is a paralyzing thought. The minutes continue to pass until it's been ten minutes since Osamu’s sent his message and Suna’s simply stared at it.

Finally, he musters up the courage to respond, kind of. He hearts the second message, heart beating erratically. 

Osamu doesn’t send anything else.

Suna tosses and turns all night. When he wakes up he feels like he hasn’t slept at all. He wants to stay in bed moping. But he can’t. The team wants to celebrate their success at the Spring tournament and spend the day together. He’s already agreed to hanging out with them, going to the mall and then Aran’s house. So Suna’s up early and out of the door before ten. He waits at the bus stop alone, scrolling through his phone absently, face tucked into his scarf.

Keiko’s words play on repeat in his head. But the thought of talking to Osamu about what’s going on between them is vomit inducing. Suna climbs aboard the bus and quickly finds a seat, sinking low and sighing. He made sure to get an early bus so he wouldn’t run into the Miya’s on the way there. It pays off, even if he’s at the mall about thirty minutes before everyone’s supposed to arrive.

His friends start to arrive after a bit, Gin first and then Kita and Aran being dropped off together. The rest of the team arrives quickly. Atsumu catches his eye and says hello but all Suna can hear are his words from last night. Osamu smiles happily, genuinely, at him and it just makes Suna’s heart hurt more. There’s no way he’s going to be able to fake enthusiasm around Osamu all day. Maybe it would be better to avoid him entirely, Suna thinks sourly. He quickly turns to Akagi and strikes up a conversation. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Osamu falter in his step before turning to Aran.

Suna let’s Akagi talk, knowing he won’t find it suspicious if Suna gives his usual one word answers. Soon enough, Akagi is swept up in the raucous nature of the group.

They’re loud, verging on obnoxious, as they travel throughout the mall. Atsumu and Gin lead the charge. Suna feels like crap, lagging behind everyone else. He falls in step with Kita, knowing he won’t strike up a conversation unless Suna does. He tries to look like he’s not part of the group. The effort is futile when they’re all wearing their Inarizaki jackets, but at least Suna can pretend. 

He window shops as they walk towards the movie theater. There’s flashy colors and bright lights coming from all angles. Suna’s attention is not caught by any of that however. Instead, he’s captivated by the couple walking a few feet ahead of them.

A man and woman, older than the group of them but still young. The man has his arm around the woman, holding her by the waist. In turn, the woman has her arm wrapped around him, with her hand tucked into his right back pocket. To Suna, it looks incredibly intimate. He almost feels as though he shouldn’t be looking yet he can’t seem to take his eyes off of them.

The man says something to make the woman laugh, and Suna watches as he reflexively pulls her closer. They’re both smiling brightly, and the woman puckers her lips at the man, who happily complies and gives her a soft peck.

Suna finally looks away, only to look for Osamu. He’s walking beside Aran, arms swinging at his sides and laughing along to whatever he’s saying. Suna wonders what it would be like to walk like that, like that couple, with Osamu. Would he put his hand in Osamu’s pocket? Would Osamu want to put his in Suna’s? They’ve held hands when they’ve walked but that seems far too intimate. Yet Suna can’t help but picture it.

They reach the movie theatre and Suna knows he’s flushed, can feel the warmth all over him. He keeps to the back of the line, away from Osamu.

“Are you feeling alright, Suna?” Kita asks once they’re in line to purchase tickets.

“I’m fine, s’warm in here.” Suna mumbles.

Kita only stares at him in response. It’s like he knows Suna is lying. Suna drops his eyes back down until it’s his turn to buy a ticket. The group has broken up a bit, people heading to buy different snacks. He watches as Osamu begins looking around, standing on his toes to search the crowd. Suna tries to shrink himself smaller. Maybe he can sneak into the bathroom while they get their seats. Then he can just claim the aisle seat.

He starts heading in that direction, trying to blend in to the crowd.

“Hey, Sunarin! Where ya goin’?” Osamu calls out. He rubs the back of his neck, tense smile on his face.

Suna recognizes it immediately as one of Osamu’s tell-tale nervous ticks.

“Just the bathroom.” Suna answers.

“Oh,” Osamu breathes out, “I’ll wait fer ya.”

Suna nods, unable to ask him not to. He goes to the bathroom and washes his hands, splashing some water on his face and just staring at his reflection. He looks pale, more than normal, and the bags under his eyes are dark. It’s clear to him he was up all night thinking and he knows Osamu can tell too.

When he comes out the rest of the team is mostly back together. Gin and Kosaku are on the snack line, the others holding their purchases in hand.

Osamu is next to the bathroom entrance, leaning against the wall and scrolling through his phone.

“Hey,” Suna says.

Osamu looks up, his eyes softening as soon as they make eye contact.

“Hey, where’ve ya been all morning?” Osamu asks, trying to sound casual but Suna can hear the concern through his voice.

“Oh, Kita-san and I were trying not to be associated with you guys.” Suna tries to joke.

Osamu let’s out a humorless laugh, “I thought ya were, like, avoiding me,” 

“Ha. Nope,” Suna coughs.

All at once, Suna regrets even thinking about ignoring Osamu. He’d never want to hurt Osamu, and that's obviously what he did.

“Sit by me during the movie?” Suna asks, a metaphorical olive branch for his behavior.

Osamu nods, looking relieved, and his shoulders finally ease back down. Suna wants to smack himself.

“Didja want popcorn?” Osamu asks as they go to rejoin the group.

“Maybe a slushie.”

They tell the others they still need to buy snacks which causes all sorts of grumbling in response. 

“We’ll meet ya in there, holy shit.” Osamu says.

“Not our fault ya couldn’t separate for five fucking minutes.” Atsumu shoots back.

“Watch yer mouth.” Osamu glares.

Atsumu turns his nose up at them, taking a long sip out of his soda.

By the time they purchase their snacks and make it into the theatre, the previews have already started. There’s two seats left in the row which they quickly take, Suna sandwiched between the twins.

Just his luck.

The lights in the theatre dim even more once the movie starts. Suna is engrossed in the opening, already featuring the silent killer on the loose. The killer peers around a tree, stalking a group of friends. A hand on his knee makes Suna jump, jostling the bucket of popcorn he’s holding.

Osamu snickers beside him, rubbing soothing circles over Suna’s leg.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

Suna scoffs in response.

Osamu’s hand stays there for the whole film. Slowly, the unease Suna has felt all day begins to dissipate. With each delicate press of his thumb, Osamu drives away worry after worry until Suna is relaxed in his seat, horror movie be damned. 

Suna thinks he is well and truly fucked.

The boys are once again loud as they make their way out of the theatre.

“I thought fer sure the main guy was gonna survive!” Akagi exclaims in disbelief.

“No way, they totally foreshadowed it from the start. That whole prophecy thing.” Gin says.

“Oh, excuse me, I forgot you were a filmmaker.” Akagi huffs, rolling his eyes.

“Fuck off.”

Suna grins at his friends stupid antics. They’re annoying, but they're still his friends.

Aran’s mom is waiting for them outside, the boys cramming into the car for the short ride to Aran’s house.

“Can ya move yer fucking hips–sorry fer my language–so I can actually sit on the seat?” Atsumu grumbles, squeezing next to his brother.

“Why dontcha just sit on his lap? It’s only, like, five minutes away.” Omimi suggests from behind them. He’s currently squished between the window and Kosaku, Akagi perched on his lap.

“No way! I’m older, I deserve the seat. Sunarin can sit on his lap.” Atsumu argues.

Suna, who had already claimed a seat as close to the opposite door as possible, raises an eyebrow.

“Someone please move so we don’t take up any more of Ojiro-san’s time.” Kita says, voice leaving no room for discussion.

“You heard the boss, up ya go.” Aran says from the front seat, turning to look at Suna.

Suna sputters, annoyed that he’s being forced to move, as Osamu wraps his arms around him and begins lifting. Suna has no choice but to follow the movement, Osamu sliding further down, and Suna landing unceremoniously on his lap.

“Isn’t that better?” Atsumu remarks, smirking at Suna.

Kita piles in last, sitting beside Atsumu. Suna wants to kick him, yell at him, do something rude, but Kita is right there so he doesn’t.

Osamu’s arms are tight around his waist, and he’s leaning his head against Suna’s bicep. Suna doesn’t have to check to know they’re friends are watching them. He feels put on display. But with Osamu’s arms around him, it doesn’t feel quite as daunting.

They arrive at Aran’s five minutes later, thanking his mother and climbing out of the car. They spend the remainder of the afternoon in his backyard playing volleyball and just having fun. As the sun starts to set, they all chip in to buy an absurd amount of food from the local pizza shop, carrying it back to Aran’s house in carefully stacked bundles.

They eat in the living room, music blasting, munching happily on the greasy food. It’s the perfect way to celebrate how hard they’ve worked, everyone laughing loudly and uncaring as they make fools of themselves dancing and singing off key.

Suna watches Osamu step into the kitchen, then slide open the door to the balcony. He knows with an intense certainty that now is his time to talk. He follows Osamu’s path, heart thumping against his chest.

Suna lets the glass door slide into place, the music from inside muffled into unintelligible sounds, the thrum of the bass vibrating against the door. He doesn’t say anything as he sinks down onto the couch beside Osamu.

Osamu doesn’t either.

There’s space between them, not much, but it's there. Suna stares at the sliver of rattan twining separating their legs and wills it to disappear. Far below them, toads and crickets and other wildlife are singing their own tunes, oblivious to the tension above them. The last of the lightning bugs are flying past, illuminating every few seconds and making the sky glitter. Osamu shifts slightly, his thigh bumping against Suna’s briefly before he readjusts, the space now minuscule yet still there. Suna moves the final millimeter, letting his leg rest against Osamu’s, thigh to knee. His left hand twitches where it rests on his thigh, his bicep already nestled beside Osamu’s. Then he looks to the front and watches the shadowed trees sway in the breeze.

Suna inhales deeply. He lets it out slowly before blindly reaching out to clasp Osamu’s hand in his, finding it like second nature.

An owl hoots. A muted laugh is let out from inside. A breeze flutters through the space, just cold enough to prickle their skin.

“I’m scared,” Suna says eventually. He keeps his gaze locked on the stars.

Osamu’s hand tightens in his and Suna’s breath hitches.

“So am I,” Osamu breathes out.

“I’m scared because I’ve never…because I’ve never liked someone this much before. And I don’t know. I don’t know what we’re doing.”

“Neither do I.”

“But I don’t think I can handle just being your friend, Samu. Because…when I think about you doing what you're doing with me, with someone else…” Suna takes a deep breath, “I hate it. I don’t want that.”

“I don’t want that either.” Osamu whispers, clutching Suna’s hand even tighter.

Suna can’t stop now that he’s started, all of his thoughts and feelings from these past months rushing out of him. “I haven’t said anything because I didn’t want to lose you. But I also can't just be your friend if it means we keep doing what we’re doing. I just can’t. I like you too much.”

“Rin.” Osamu murmurs, turning to face him.

Suna turns too, and Osamu’s face is drawn up in a pout. Suna wants to reach out and smooth out the lines.

He does, cupping his cheek and running his thumb down Osamu’s face.

“The last thing I want to do is make you unhappy, so I just never said anything. But I–Atsumu made me realize that not talking about it is probably just hurting us both. And this is fucking terrifying, Osamu, but I need to let you know.” 

“Rin. Stop.” Osamu puts his hand over Suna’s. “You’ve never made me unhappy. Ever. I’ve been too selfish to tell ya how I feel, because I didn’t want to lose what we already had. And if ya didn’t feel the same way I knew there was no way I could just be yer friend.”

He smiles softly, “I’m already crazy about ya, Suna Rintaro. And I’d really like to kiss ya right now.”

Suna doesn’t wait, surging forward and connecting their lips. It’s pure bliss, it’s everything Suna has pictured and more. It’s short, both of them pulling back to see the other’s face.

Osamu is smiling, radiant. Suna kisses him again.

“I can’t believe I waited so long to do that.” Suna murmurs against Osamu’s lips.

Osamu giggles, and it’s the cutest sound Suna has ever heard.

“That night, last week, I almost kissed you.” Osamu confesses. 

“I wish you had!” Suna pushes him lightly, but immediately chases after him so they’re not apart.

“I was going crazy trying to figure out if I was making it all up in my head or if you liked me back. You are so hard to read.”

Osamu lifts an eyebrow, “I literally made you cuddle me, like the first week we met. How is that not obvious?”

Suna huffs, dragging Osamu’s hands into his lap, “I thought maybe you’re like that with all of your friends.”

Osamu laughs, dropping his head onto Suna’s shoulder. “Rin, I’ve had dozens of sleepovers with Aran and you, have I once cuddled him?”

Suna just shrugs. He drops his face onto Osamu’s hair, breathing in the smell that’s become permanent in his pillowcases.

“I guess I was too scared to get my hopes up.” Suna answers quietly.

Osamu hums in response, removing one of his hands from Suna’s to run it softly down his back. Suna sighs at the contact. They stay like that for a moment, listening to the sounds of the night and breathing each other in.

“As romantic as this is, I think my ass is gonna freeze to the seat if we stay out here any longer.” Osamu says, pulling back just enough to look Suna in the eye.

Suna laughs but Osamu is right. They untangle themselves from their seats and head back in.

When they go back inside, Suna pulls Osamu over to Atsumu and taps him on the shoulder.

“I kissed your brother,” he says, “and I’m gonna do it again.”

He does, pulling Osamu against him and dipping his head back slightly. Osamu smiles against the kiss.

“Fucking finally! ” Atsumu exclaims. He turns around to where some of the team is lounging in the other room.

“Hey everyone! Suna Rintaro finally planted one on my lousy brother!”

“Fuck you!” Osamu yells, but he’s got the biggest smile on his face Suna’s ever seen.

The boys not in the kitchen scramble to their feet.

“What!”

“When did they get together?”

Suna finds Kita in the shuffle, a pleased smile on his face as he watches the commotion. He nods to Suna. Suna ducks his head, trying to cover the blush that’s only gotten stronger.

“Does this mean we don’t have to suffer through Suna drooling over Osamu’s spikes anymore?” Omimi mutters.

“As if. They’re probably gonna be more insufferable.” Aran chimes in.

“I don’t drool…” Suna protests weakly.

“Don’t stress, Suna-kun.” Gin starts, “Yer nothing compared to Osamu. He practically eye fucks you in the locker room.”

Now Osamu is stuttering, stammering out his own weak denial.

“At least you guys get a break! I gotta put up with this twenty-four seven.” Atsumu groans. His eyes are bright though, and there’s been a permanent smile on his face ever since they walked back in.

Suna rolls his eyes and reaches his hand out to hold Osamu’s. He holds it tight, and the rest of the team gives a mix of reactions to the affection.

They stay at Aran’s for a little longer before heading out to get the bus home. Suna, Osamu, and Atsumu all get on the same bus and head to the back. Suna finds himself once again squished between the twins.

Osamu’s hand finds his, and Suna takes it happily.

Another hand lands on his knee, palm up.

Suna raises his eyebrow at Atsumu, who’s pouting at him. 

“Oh, Sunarin, please hold my hand. I’m so lonely.”

Suna chuckles, and lightly wraps his hand around Atsumu’s.

“Are you ever not an ass?” He asks, but there’s no bite to his words.

Atsumu shrugs and knocks their hands against Suna’s knee.

“Here I thought I’d start gettin’ left out, but I’m fittin’ right in. Just don’t except me and Samu to do anything freaky for yer fantasies, Sunarin.”

“What the fuck? Gross, Tsumu.”

“That’s foul.” Suna says, tugging his hand free from Atsumu’s.

“I was saying not too! I’m agreeing it’s gross! Baby, come back to me!” Atsumu says. He’s trying to grab Suna’s hand again but Suna is evading him.

The three of them break into laughter. Thankfully, the only other patron on the bus is sitting at the front, so they’re not being too annoying. They’re nearing their stop so the three stand up. They thank the bus driver and get off, starting their walk home.

“You guys want to come over tonight?” Suna offers. It’s Saturday, after all.

“And cockblock my brother and my best friend? I’ll pass.” Atsumu says with a grin.

He wraps his arms around both their shoulders, pulling them in close. 

“I’ll see ya in the mornin’.” 

The other two say their goodbyes. Atsumu breaks off, heading to their house while the other two head to Suna’s. The walk back is pretty quiet, just the two of them holding hands and enjoying each other's presence.

They get back to Suna’s, greeting his mom and heading straight to Suna’s room. They follow their usual routine, washing up and Osamu borrowing pajamas once again.

“About what Atsumu said,” Osamu’s face turning red, “I don’t want to—uhh, not tonight.”

“Me neither.” Suna agrees, also flushing.

“I just want to hold ya.” Osamu says softly.

Suna’s heart melts.

“Me too,” he breathes out. 

Osamu isn’t looking at his face, and Suna’s heart melts even more.

“What? Are you getting shy on me now, Osamu?”

“Shut up,” Osamu smiles, finally looking Suna in the face, “I’m still in shock.”

“I can help with that.” and Suna’s leaning in, pressing a soft kiss against Osamu’s lips.

When they break apart, Osamu is smiling so gently Suna’s heart has officially turned into a puddle. He’s not sure how much more his heart can take. They crawl into bed, holding each other the whole time. 

Suna pulls Osamu against him, finally not overthinking the move. Osamu follows more than willingly, tucking himself into the crook of Suna’s neck and breathing in deeply.

Osamu wraps an arm around Suna’s torso, his usual move, and runs his hand like usual over Suna’s side. Suna tightens his hold around Osamu’s shoulders, his fingertips under the fabric of his shirt to brush gently over Osamu’s bicep.

“This is already way better.” Osamu whispers against Suna’s skin.

Suna couldn’t agree more.