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Osamu rarely ever let himself get drunk anymore.
He felt like he was a little too old for it now, being 30 and married. Long gone were the days he and the Inarizaki crew would sneak alcohol and drink their hearts out, or the days that he’d get drunk with the MSBY boys after a game; now, he preferred a quiet evening with his husband, sipping on wine or beer and watching a movie. Plus, tipsy sex with Kiyoomi was way better than drunk sex. Waking up without a headache and dried cum between his thighs was also a bonus.
Yet despite that, here Osamu was: sitting on Atsumu’s balcony, his fourth beer in hand. Inside his twin’s apartment were both of their husbands, cleaning up after their quiet birthday celebration. Osamu had offered to help, but Atsumu had all but dragged him outside, a twelve-pack in hand. He’d tried to refuse, but surprisingly it was Kiyoomi who’d told him to go.
“Go relax, baby. We’ll take care of this,” he’d said softly, pressing a quick kiss to his husband’s cheek and smiling at him. Even four years into their marriage, Osamu’s heart still fluttered when Kiyoomi smiled at him like that.
“Yeah, Samu, let’s let loose!” Atsumu cheered, making Osamu roll his eyes, “Sho, we’ll be out there. If ya need anythin’, just call, ‘kay?”
Shoyo only waved them off with a smile, letting the twins slip out onto the balcony. Osamu sat on the ground, leaning against the glass door, while Atsumu groaned.
He whined, “Samu, what’s the point of us havin’ seats out here if yer gonna sit on the ground?” Atsumu complained, kicking his twin lightly in the knee.
Osamu glared, “Yer seats are uncomfortable as shit. I ain’t sittin’ there when the floors comfier,” he huffed.
Atsumu sighed, before hunkering down next to his twin. He was quick to pull out the beers, opening the first one and passing it over to Osamu, who took it readily. He took the first sip, letting out a pleasant sigh as he swallowed.
“Just so ya know, I ain’t gettin’ shitfaced tonight. I wanna get fucked and if Kiyoomi ain’t drunk too, he won’t fuck me,” Osamu warned, making Atsumu screech.
“I don’t wanna fuckin’ know that, ya scrub! Don’t tell me about yer sex life with Omi!” Atsumu yelled, shoving Osamu’s shoulder so hard he almost fell over.
The chef just rolled his eyes, unamused, “You’ve told me so much shit about yer and Shoyo’s sex life over the years, I don’t wanna hear it.” Atsumu just whined, chugging the rest of his beer in one go, before cracking open another.
“Well, fuck. Here’s to our thirties, scrubbie. Hopefully we die ‘fore we turn forty, or at least before we start goin’ bald,” Atsumu said, clinking his can with Osamu’s forcefully.
Osamu shoved his twin but laughed, “Fuck you, I ain’t goin’ bald. That’s all you, ya blonde bitch.”
Despite saying he wouldn’t get drunk, Osamu was weak when it came to his twin and his whims. The easiest way to get Osamu drunk was to either challenge him to a drinking game (he almost always won against his lightweight of a twin) or by getting him talking. Osamu was, unfortunately, a gossip, which meant that if you got him started or you started telling him anything interesting, well then. He was hooked. He blamed this trait first on his twin brother, the motormouth, and then on his husband. He couldn’t help that his lover was great at wringing out information from other volleyball players!
All this to say, the twins were yapping away, throwing back drink after drink, until there was only one left for each of them. It was then that Osamu finally realized how drunk he’d gotten.
“Ah, fuck. ‘M hammered,” Osamu complained, sniffling. He looked over at Atsumu, who was red and giggly, the bastard, “This is yer fault. ‘M not gettin’ dicked down tonight cause of you,” he accused, pointing a wobbly finger at his twin.
Atsumu grinned, “Happy ta cockblock when I can, Samu,” he said happily, narrowly avoiding the empty beer can Osamu threw, “Sides, ain’t ya too old ta be fuckin’ after midnight? Even Sho and I don’t fuck this late anymore,” Atsumu mumbled, squinting at his brother.
“That’s cause the two of ya are health nuts and’ve probably read some fuckin’ lame-ass study about night sex bein’ bad fer you or somethin’. Plus, ya don’t even stay up past eleven anymore. Ain’t this way too late, what with yer bedtime?” Osamu taunted, making Atsumu frown.
“Shut the fuck up, Samu. I ain’t boring! Yer one ta talk, anyways, when Omi-kun is the most boring man I have the displeasure of knowin’. He’s a stick-in-the-mud, ‘cept he would never let mud touch him, fuckin’ annoying-ass –“ Atsumu cut himself off, taking another swig of his beer. He leaned his head against the glass door, looking up at the night sky and the bright moon instead.
Osamu glared, “Kiyo’s jus’ proper, but he ain’t boring. You and Shoyo on the other hand act like yer seventy-five.”
Atsumu shrugged then, “Well, we’re almost there, ain’t we Samu?” he said, making Osamu turn to look at Atsumu properly then.
“What’s with ya? Gettin’ sentimental all of a sudden?” Osamu asked, raising a brow at his twin.
“Ain’t this the time to? We just turned thirty, Samu. When we were seventeen, we thought thirty was old as shit,” Atsumu said, earning a snort from the brunette.
“Well, to two seventeen-year olds, thirty is ancient.”
“Yeah, I thought I’d be witherin’ away at thirty.”
“Ya kinda are, Tsumu. If ya don’t stretch before ya sleep at night, ya end up with a cramp the next day.”
“Okay, fuck you, Mr. ‘I can’t go up the stairs without panting’.”
“Well I’m not a professional athlete!”
“That might make two of us pretty soon,” Atsumu said suddenly, making Osamu freeze.
He turned to look at the setter then, exclaiming, “What the fuck’re you talkin’ about, Tsumu? You injured or something?”
Atsumu shook his head, “Nah, nothin’ like that. I just – I can’t play forever, can I, Samu?” he asked, looking up at the stars and the moon for guidance.
Osamu just jostled his twin with his shoulder, “Course ya can’t scrub, but ya ain’t there yet. Stop talkin’ like this is late in yer career. There’s lots of players who play well inta their thirties, and yer gonna be one of ‘em. I better get another gold metal ta hang in the restaurant in three years, ya hear?” Osamu said lightly, making Atsumu huff a laugh.
His teasing worked, making Atsumu giggle, “Yeah, yeah, shut yer trap. Yer right, though, I dunno why ‘m talkin’ like this. I guess gettin’ older is makin’ me all existential or somethin’.”
“It’s cause yer drunk, and you get all whiney and sad when yer fucked up. Remember listenin’ to ya cry over Shoyo durin’ his first year, you were so annoyin’,” Osamu huffed, smiling at the fact that his twin was back to normal. He did not want to deal with a crying Atsumu on his birthday, thank you very much. Helping his twin was just a bonus, Osamu told himself. Getting to tease him about his husband? The icing on the cake.
“At least I don’t turn inta a slut,” Atsumu sneered, nose scrunched up, “I remember when we’d get drunk while you were in college. Ya’d start dancin’ with random fucks and sleep with some of ‘em,” he recalled, making Osamu’s face flame.
He swiped at his twin, who laughed gleefully, “Shut yer trap! I didn’t sleep with that many people,” Osamu huffed.
Atsumu shook his head, “I even remember when ya hooked up with Meian-san. Ya woke up the next mornin’ and called me in a panic, cause one: ya fucked my captain. And two, cause ya had the biggest crush on Omi-kun, and ya thought this would ruin yer chances,” he teased, shoulders shaking as he retold the story.
Osamu groaned, remembering how panicked he’d been when he woke up naked next to Meian Shuugo. It had been a few months after Kiyoomi had joined the Black Jackals, and Osamu had not been coping with his crush well. After weeks of flirting with the spiker and getting nothing in return, Osamu had gone with the team to a bar, where he’d gotten shitfaced. The next thing he knew, he woke up in Meian’s house with a bunch of hickeys and sore tits.
“God, I thought it was over. Thought Kiyoomi’d never look my way again,” Osamu moaned into his hands, his cheeks burning as he remembered the frantic and teary phone call he’d made to Atsumu as he hauled out of Meian’s house.
Atsumu laughed, “Yer lucky that Omi-kun’s the jealous type, and that that was the kick in the ass he needed ta finally confess,” he said, thinking about how Kiyoomi had cornered him in the locker room the day after and asked him if Meian and Osamu were serious. When Atsumu had all but laughed in his face and said no, the spiker had beelined it for Onigiri Miya, and the rest was history.
Osamu smiled as he remembered his now-husband’s confession. Kiyoomi had been out of breath when he came in and all but spilled his guts out to Osamu, telling him how much he really enjoyed his company and how pretty he thought he was (it was the first time someone had referred to him as ‘pretty’. It was still Kiyoomi’s favorite thing to call him, since it always made him blush as it did that first time). Apparently, the spiker hadn’t realized that Osamu’d been flirting with him the entire time. At least now, they could laugh about it, gold rings on both of their fourth fingers.
“Hmm, it was funny watchin’ him and Meian-san interact after that though. Poor Meian-san was on the receivin’ end of Kiyo’s glares fer a while,” Osamu said, giggling.
“You don’t know how many times Bokkun and I’d laugh at ‘em durin’ practice fer the first month. Never thought Meian would be scared of anyone, but Omi-Omi’s feral about ya,” Atsumu laughed, both twins giggling together about it.
“Ya know, I always knew you and Shoyo would get together. The two of ya circled each other fer years,” Osamu said, making Atsumu give him a skeptical look, “Okay, I didn’t know when ya met in high school, but I knew back then that he’d be fillin’ my spot,” Osamu conceded.
Atsumu rolled his eyes, “No one took yer spot, scrub.”
“Not like that, stupid. Not as yer brother, but as yer partner in volleyball. When we played against their team in second year, I remember watchin’ Shoyo and thinkin’ that he’d be perfect fer ya. He had all the drive that I didn’t, and he was hungry for it. I knew that he was exactly what you needed, especially when I knew I was quittin’,” Osamu confessed, smiling at the memory. He remembered the look in Shoyo’s eyes even now; how much he wanted to be there. How badly he wanted every point, every spike. It was the same look Atsumu had, and Osamu knew that this was someone who could actually be at his twin’s level. Someone that would make Atsumu flourish.
Atsumu smiled, “Ya knew he’d be my partner from then on?”
“Well, I knew he’d be a good match. Didn’t know he’d be this good of a match until later on, but,” Osamu said simply, giggling at his own words. Atsumu chuckled, his cheeks warming up too as he recalled the day Shoyo joined the Jackals. He’d been so excited to see him again; and from then on, from that very first play, he’d been hooked. Atsumu knew almost immediately that he’d marry the guy.
“The two of us ended up alright, didn’t we?” Atsumu said softly, staring up at the stars.
Osamu agreed, “Yeah. We found people who’d put up with our asses. Suna owes us, he betted that we’d both be alone forever. And now that bastard is dancin’ around his own feelings, the idiot.” Atsumu shrieked with laughter as they talked about Suna’s, frankly, embarrassing crush on Komori, who was none the wiser. They could only hope that Suna would continue to humiliate himself for a little while longer, for blackmail’s sake.
“Can’t believe we’re the ones married, and the rest of Inarizaki are still scramblin’ and single,” Atsumu laughed, making Osamu giggle along, “Suna and Kosaku are bitchless, Gin is fumblin’ ta try and propose to his girlfriend, and Aran-kun and Kita-san are still datin’ and waitin’. Waitin’ fer what? Who the fuck knows,” Atsumu groaned, while Osamu kept laughing.
“I know high school them woulda been flabbergasted that we ended up like this,” Osamu giggled.
Atsumu pretended to flick his hair over his shoulder, “Well, when yer this good lookin’ and talented and hot, how’re ya supposed ta stay single and sad?” It was quiet for a moment, before –
Osamu’s giggles got even louder, and Atsumu fell over with laughter too, “Yer so stupid. Ya called us handsome twice!”
“Well, why deny the truth?”
“Yer an idiot, Tsumu.”
“So are you, Samu. Yer just as dumb as me. Dumber, actually, if we go by school.”
“Fuck school.”
“See? Dumber than me.”
The chef shoved his twin again, laughter peeling out of both of them. As their laughter faded out, the pair looked up at the sky, a comfortable silence falling over them.
It had been a while since they’d done something like this, just the two of them. Usually, there was always someone else around, whether it be their husbands or other volleyball players. The twins hadn’t gotten a lot of bonding time in a long while, so it was nice to do this for their special day. Osamu was enjoying the peace, when Atsumu interrupted per usual.
“Hey, Samu?” Atsumu asked, still not looking at his brother.
“Yeah, Tsumu?” Osamu responded, closing his eyes as a cool breeze passed over them.
There was a moment, before, “Do you think we’re twins in every lifetime?” And there goes all of the peace.
“Hah? What’re ya talkin’ about now?” Osamu asked, giving his brother an incredulous look. Atsumu was still refusing to look at him, instead watching the stars with a wistful gleam in his eyes.
“Ya know how people say that we get reincarnated every time we die, and we can come back as anythin’? Like, in this lifetime, the two of us are twins, but d’ya think we’d be twins in every lifetime?” Atsumu pondered, making Osamu stop and think for a moment. Now, he’d admit; he felt too drunk to have this philosophical of a conversation. Yet, it didn’t seem like one he could avoid.
Osamu jostled his twin, trying to lighten the mood at first, “What, ya think I gotta be stuck with you in all my lives? I thought ya said you wouldn’t get all sentimental, Tsumu,” he said. When Atsumu gave him no reaction, he sighed, before looking up at the same, dark sky, before speaking.
“I dunno, Tsumu. I’ve never really thought about what happens to us after we die,” Osamu said honestly, “I dunno if we’d be twins in every life. But - “
“I know I’d wanna be,” Osamu declared, smiling at the glittering night sky as he spoke, “I hope that in every life, Tsumu, the two of us’re together. I hope that I always gotcha in every life, from now until the gods decide that we can’t be reincarnated anymore. Even if it’s jus’ makin’ the two of us stones in the ocean that sit next to each other fer eternity, I hope that we’re always together, Tsumu. Yer my best friend, of course I wanna be with ya fer all my lives,” Osamu said softly, huffing when he heard his twin sniffle.
He knocked their shoulders together again, “What, ya cryin’ now, after askin’ that question yerself? Come on, Tsumu, I thought we didn’t wanna cry on our birthdays anymore,” Osamu teased, refusing to look at his twin. He knew that if he looked at Atsumu, he would automatically start crying too, and the last thing either of their husbands needed were two blubbering twins sitting in the cold, drunk.
Atsumu managed to collect himself, clearing his throat then, “Yer such a fuckin’ sap, Samu.”
Osamu only laughed at him, “Says the one who begged fer an answer, and then sobbed over it,” he teased, laughing again when Atsumu shoved him blindly.
There was more silence, before, “I really hope that in our next life, we’re twins. Even if we’re not humans, I hope that we’re twin frogs or foxes or flowers or somethin’. I hope that we always come inta this world together, Samu. I’ll always protect ya, in any world, in any lifetime,” Atsumu said softly, his words melting around them. Osamu smiled at his brother’s words, trying to conceal his own sniffling, to no avail.
“Crybaby,” Atsumu teased back, knocking his shoulder into his brother.
“Right back atcha, crybaby,” Osamu said, fondness sweeping over him as he watched the night sky with his brother, his favorite person.
The twins sat there for a little while longer, before Atsumu finally broke it, “Let’s go in. ‘M freezin’ my balls off, and ‘m sure Omi-kun wants ta go home by now. I’m honestly surprised he lasted this long in my house,” he said, making Osamu snort as he moved to stand up.
He offered a hand to the setter, pulling him up, “By the way, why the fuck didja only say ‘F’ words as things we’d turn into in our next life?”
“What?”
“Hey, don’t treat me like ‘m weird. You said flowers ‘nd frogs ‘nd foxes!”
“I did? Damn, that alliteration.”
“That what?”
“God, Samu, how didja even graduate high school?”
‘“Shut the fuck up!” Osamu said, laughing as he pushed the door into Atsumu and Shoyo’s apartment, seeing that the living and dining room had been cleared. On the couch was Kiyoomi and Shoyo, who was slouched over, half-asleep.
Kiyoomi looked up at the noise, smiling at his husband, “Well? Are you drunk?”
Atsumu snorted as Osamu replied, “Yeah, kinda. Sorry Kiyo,” he giggled, making Kiyoomi shake his head as he stood up.
He wrapped his arms around his lover, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “Sorry for what? It’s fine, baby. I’ll get you all ready for bed when we get home and then I’ll fuck you in the morning.”
“Okay, fuckin’ gross. Jesus, have some fuckin’ decorum, ya nasty little shits!” Atsumu hissed, covering his ears as Osamu and Kiyoomi smirked.
Atsumu walked the couple to the door, berating them the whole way, “I can’t believe that I had to deal with this shit on my birthday. I mean, come on. The last thing I ever wanted ta know is that you two have sex!”
“We’ve been together for seven years. What, do you think we just hold hands in bed?” Kiyoomi deadpanned, snorting as Atsumu covered his ears, whining.
It was after they’d put their shoes on, a bit clumsily on Osamu’s part (Kiyoomi had to hold his hand as he did it), Atsumu pulled his brother back in for a hug, making Osamu startle.
Before Osamu could say a word, Atsumu whispered, “Happy birthday, Osamu. Love ya.”
Osamu was stiff for a moment, before melting into his brother’s arms, whispering back, “Happy birthday, Atsumu. I love ya too,” he said, smiling into his brother’s shoulder.
They pulled away after a moment, Atsumu waving at them before going back to the couch and lifting his husband into his arms, carrying Shoyo into their bedroom. Osamu quietly locked the door behind them, a smiling Kiyoomi looking at him as he turned.
“What?” Osamu asked, a small smile on his face.
Kiyoomi just shook his head, “Nothing, you just. You look really happy, Samu,” he responded, making Osamu giggle. He held out his hand for his husband, who eagerly accepted it, giggling as he leaned into Kiyoomi’s broad frame.
“I am, Kiyo. ‘M really happy,” he said, sighing as he felt Kiyoomi kiss his temple, leading them to their car.
“Good, I’m glad. Happy birthday, baby,” Kiyoomi replied, looking down at his husband with nothing but love and affection in his eyes.
Osamu could only look up at him, and then at the pitch-black sky, and smile.