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"Sunarin, ya want kids?"
It's a hot summer afternoon in Hyogo and Osamu is pretty sure the heat is starting to get to his head. Usually, he leaves the 'running your mouth without thinking' thing to Atsumu but Atsumu is nowhere to be found and Suna's wearing the shirt so he thinks he's earned the right to blabber.
Osamu revels in the ever so slight way Suna's eyes widen, clearly startled, before his lips curl into a lazy smile dripping with amusement. Osamu is pretty sure it's reserved just for him. He doesn't even have an answer to the question himself, he has no idea where he's going with this.
"What?" Suna drawls, his voice deceptively bored in a way Osamu thinks only he can make sound good. The way his eyes twinkle gives him away, though. He's anything but bored.
He's helpless to do anything but watch Suna's eyes dart to his lips for a split second the way they've been doing recently before they refocus on him. The movement is so quick that he could have imagined it. Except that would mean that he's been imagining it way too often.
His heart pounding in his ears, Osamu swallows, throat suddenly dry. He tells himself that Suna had just been distracted by the residual color of the ice cream they'd had earlier. He blinks, forcing himself to focus and pay attention to the words coming out of his best friend's mouth and definitely, definitely not just his mouth. That turns out to be a big, fat, mistake. "Looking to give a couple to me?"
Osamu stutters, caught off guard. Suna says it in a jokingly, casual way that doesn't match the subtly intense look in his eyes. He's sure he's one of the few people that would even notice.
He coughs as he registers with abject horror, that his ears and cheeks feel hot and are definitely getting red alongside God knows what. Suna's laugh is a little shy and breathless even though he teases. "No way, I'd have pinned Atsumu as the one with a breeding kink."
"Shut up, ya know that's not what I meant!" Osamu isn't sure what he expected, really. It was very on brand for Suna to make light fun of him at any chance he got and he'd all but presented this one on a golden platter. He doesn't really regret it though, Suna's full attention on him is a little addictive, he could get drunk on it.
"Ya caught me off guard, asshole." He laughs quietly, a little distracted. He takes in the way Suna's head is blocking the sun and how it almost casts a halo around his head of messy hair. His fingers itch to smoothen down hair sticking up from the way Suna's been positioned. By the time he zones back in, Osamu realizes that he's been staring at the way the light catches Suna's eyes.
He flushes in embarrassment and to his surprise, Suna seems to do the same, making no comment as he throws Osamu an almost shy smile. "Let's say I believe ya," He throws him a side glance that clearly says that he doesn't, before he continues, "Where'd that question come from?"
Osamu ignores him and shrugs, "Dunno. I just thought of it." He's not even lying. Truth be told, Osamu couldn't pinpoint a trigger for the question or what had even begun the thought process. What he can do is admit that he feels positively insane at the way Suna's gone back to normal, shy smile replaced with his customary look of nonchalance that somehow manages to look so fucking good all the fucking time.
"Ya just casually thought of breeding? That's pretty intense bro."
Suna typically fares better riling Atsumu up compared to Osamu but he's doing rather well at the moment. Logically speaking, Osamu knows that the chances of Suna not replying to his random, weird questions are slim to none because Suna was just as bad as he was. Maybe even worse. He can't find it in him to actually regret asking, though.
He gives him the finger with flourish, "Yer so vulgar, Sunarin." Osamu counters, still blushing.
"So are ya." Suna replies with a playful eye roll, flipping him off too. There's a pause where he seems to consider something before he adds, "Yer literally yerself." His voice is so soft that it confuses Osamu a little. Was he supposed to hear that? Where did that even come from? He's not sure he wants to know right now.
"What do ya mean?" He finds himself blurting against his better judgment. Suna's eyes divert away from him the way they do when he's embarrassed. Osamu's insides feel like molten lava, his palms are beginning to sweat.
"I don't know." Suna mumbles with a sheepish smile.
Osamu can't help the way he stares his best friend down, genuinely dazed at the way the very tip of his ears are as red as Osamu's feel. Suna continues, ignoring it, "It just came out, ya know.." he trails off as if Osamu is supposed to understand what he means. And to an extent, he does, nodding as a somewhat comfortable silence falls over them.
"Well, what about it? Do ya?" Suna predictably speaks first, when the silence stretches out a beat too long. For extra measure, and what Osamu assumes is a stab at normalcy, he cheekily sticks his tongue out, practically ruining Osamu's life.
He's clearly embarrassed now too. His stubborn pale skin that refuses to tan or even burn—Atsumu has accused him of being an alien because of it one time too fucking many because Osamu sort of believes the idiot— flushes as he stubbornly holds eye contact. It's kind of beautiful to look at.
Osamu finds himself shrugging, it's so shy and awkward that he wants to smack himself upside the head for it. He'd do that later. Instead, he mumbles, "Maybe? A daughter or something because living with Tsumu and Ma and then with ya in the dorms has shown me I don't want to raise boys." He tacks on the last part jokingly, wanting the mood to stop being so weird. He's had enough of this awkward air for now.
Suna seems to hum thoughtfully, "Ya don't think she'd be lonely?"
"Are ya?"
His best friend catches his eye, half smile on his mouth. "Nah, I got ya." He says, as if he's making fun of Osamu but Osamu finds that he doesn't really care. Not really, he only blushes a little more.
He clears his throat, "See? Perfect."
"I guess so." Suna says, throwing him another side glance before leaning his knee against his, closing his eyes again. "I'll just go with that answer too, I've never really thought about it." He isn't looking at him when he finally answers Osamu's question.
Osamu wills his stupid teenage heart to be still, cursing the very creator of pining and closes his own eyes too. He's due for a nap anyway.
The silence this time is comfortable, pregnant with something that can almost be tasted. Something that feels as though it is bound to happen sooner rather than later. Anytime now. Osamu allows himself to feel bashful about slowing down his breathing to match Suna's as they float in and out of consciousness, dozing under the tree.
Their fingers are close enough to touch but they don't, Osamu suspects that Suna might be just as aware of this silly little fact as he is. He remembers the almost shy feel to Suna's smile and feels himself blush a shade darker prompting him to squeeze his eyes tighter in a bid to squash the temptation to sneak a glimpse at a resting Suna.
His success only makes him feel a little silly. Later, he'll learn that it foolishly loses him the opportunity to witness a slightly bolder Suna who has a dopey smile on his face as he watches him feign sleep, carefully positioned at an angle that'll allow him to easily hide if need be.
It's a sharp contrast to the shameless grooms that grind against each other at their wedding's after party, trying to outdo the other and gross out as many of their guests as possible simply because they can.
"Shame Atsumu isn't here to puke in his own mouth," a 29 year old Suna Rintarou breathes into his newly wedded husband's ear, sweaty and delectable. He playfully tugs on the flower carefully put behind that ear by their daughter before kissing it briefly.
"Pretty sure Gin won't let him miss out on this treat and is sending him a video as we speak, babe." Osamu sweetly giggles in response, trying to catch his breath. He ignores the teasing quirk of Suna's eyebrow at his clearly reduced dancing stamina in favour of running his ring clad hand over his husband's back, relishing the feel of lean, strong muscle. He wasn't a professional athlete, give him a break.
"Good." Suna responds, conspiratorially, with a smile that drives Osamu as crazy as it did when he was 17, as though Atsumu isn't innocent this time. What, with him playing the wonderful, responsible, caring uncle to their beloved Mika-chan by deciding to miss the party altogether in favor of taking care of her and her cousins. Osamu laughs as his husband spins him, carefree and happy.
Tomorrow, they'll leave for their week-long honeymoon. Kiyoomi would send daily videos of Mika because his husband will absolutely refuse to do so if he gets those videos Gin is recording, and he most likely will.
Osamu is the happiest version of himself that he could be right now. Second year Osamu needn't lament in his head so much, he'd be fine.