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Otoya is fine. Really, he is. There is absolutely nothing wrong with him. Absolutely nothing at all!
So what if butterflies flutter in his stomach whenever Karasu smirks at him? So what if his brain short circuits when Karasu throws an arm around his shoulder when they practice? So what if his eyes have developed a deeply concerning, possibly incurable habit of trailing Karasu’s every movement: watching the way his muscles flexes, the way he effortlessly walks or how his grin curves alluringly?
…Actually ignore that last part.
It’s just… admiration! Athletic appreciation. That’s normal. Totally normal. And (most importantly) totally, completely heterosexual.
Him and Karasu? Just friends. Nothing more, nothing less.
1. Friends let their friends sleep on them, right?
Otoya wakes up. It’s dark, and he feels something warm and comfy draped on his body. Huh? He shifts slightly, and the mysterious heat source shifts with him.
His brain, stiff in his half asleep state, lags behind as memories of last night—no, not last night but today start piercing together. …Just how long did he fall asleep for? He remembers the gruelling training session, suffering through the trash-tier Blue Lock dinner with Karasu and Yukimiya, Karasu and him leaving to go watch game footage together and…
Oh.
Otoya is this close to losing his mind.
Because Karasu is asleep.
On him.
Not just on him, but fully sprawled out across his lap like he was part of the couch. One of Karasu’s long arms flung haphazardly over his stomach, and he could feel something spiky poke at his chin— oh that must be Karasu’s ridiculously gelled hair. And to make matters worse, there was definitely skin to skin contact somewhere, but Otoya was too scared to investigate.
How did this even happen? They were in a monitor room in the prison-like Blue Lock facility, previously having decided that they’ll watch game footage together in the late evening after dinner. It was fine at first, they were watching and bantering but at some point, Otoya must’ve dozed off.
And now, Karasu is asleep whilst Otoya is wide awake and doesn’t even know what the time is.
He cannot move. His arms and hands are pinned down by Karasu’s long arms, and if he just slightly twitches, he risks walking Karasu up and having to deal with the sheer humiliation of explaining the situation. His phone is somewhere on the table, but there’s no way to reach it. He is trapped. This is officially a hostage situation.
He was in the middle of silently panicking—figuring out a master plan of how to somehow get his phone to check the time—when the door of the room creaked open, flooding the room with the cold fluorescent lights of the hallways.
“Look Rin-kun, this room is free—“ Nanase’s cheerful voice cuts off abruptly.
Nanase peeked his head into the room and his eyes widened as his eyes locked on the very-not-free-room. His gaze flits from Otoya, who was stuck under Karasu, and to Karasu, who was comfortably snoozing like a clingy cat.
“What is it?” A monotonous voice spoke, soft from outside the room.
Then, with the speed of a guy who has just walked into something he should not have seen, Nanase immediately bowed his head down sheepishly. “Sorry sorry! My bad!” He squeaked, his voice panicked but whispering.
Otoya barely had time to process what was happening before he blinked and the room was dark again. He could hear Nanase’s muffled voice outside the room.
God, Otoya is never going to live this down. But it’s okay, Karasu and Otoya are friends after all.
And friends let each other sleep on them, right?
2. Friends sneak into each other’s dorms. And if people get the wrong idea, that’s their problem.
Otoya technically isn’t allowed to be here.
But he really doesn’t care, cause who believes in the stupid rules anyways? It’s not like Blue Lock is a normal place with normal rules to begin with.
And plus, he’s seen Isagi sneak into the Barcha dorms to be with Bachira, claiming that the Bastard München dorms were ‘too loud’, and that the players were ‘too nosy’. So if those two could be together, why couldn’t he be with Karasu?
He’s done this a million times anyways—sneaking into the PxG dorms isn’t even a challenge anymore. And it’s not like Karasu cares either about the rules. If anything, Karasu expects him to show up, which is why Otoya is barely two steps into the hallway before he sees that Karasu’s left his room door slightly open for him, which is completely normal behaviour.
(It is. For them anyway.)
What isn’t normal is the way Rin is standing at the walls of the dorm, glaring at Otoya like he’s a nuisance that’s just walked in uninvited.
Which—okay, fair.
Rin sighed, rubbing his temples. “You know you’re not supposed to be here.” He states, his voice flat, the kind of tone suggesting that he’s irked by the thought of talking to people.
Otoya shrugs, keeping his voice casual. “I’m visiting a friend.”
“You’re not allowed to be here.” Rin repeated, eyes sharper than daggers.
Otoya slipped his hands into his pockets lazily. “And?”
And… Rin looks two seconds away from punching him, but then another voice cuts in.
“Rin-kun, ya need to calm down,” Nanase’s sweet voice scolded patiently. “An’ plus, Karasu said he was waitin’ for Otoya-kun.”
Rin’s posture somewhat relaxes, as he stares at Otoya almost judgmentally. Then, his eyes flick to Karasu’s slightly open room door. Then back at Otoya. Finally, he asks: “… Are you two dating?”
Otoya almost died on the spot. “What—no!”
Nanase blinked at Otoya, slightly tilting his head innocently. “Huh. Karasu said the same thing.”
Otoya doesn’t know why it makes his stomach twist, but it does.
“Because we’re not,” Otoya snapped, rolling his eyes and trying to appear nonchalant but the light pink flush that crept on his cheeks betrayed him completely. He just hopes that Karasu isn’t listening to this conversation right now… “He’s just my friend.” Otoya defended again, though his voice was weaker and more quiet.
Rin raises an eyebrow, still suspicious, but thankfully his attention shifts when Nanase tugs at his sleeve, murmuring something he doesn’t catch. Rin huffs but doesn’t protest when Nanase gently pulls him away, their hands definitely lingering a little too long to be normal.
(Weird.)
But whatever. That’s not his problem.
His problem was Karasu. And the fact that Otoya keeps breaking the rules just to see him. He walked into Karasu’s room, and if Karasu noticed—he always does, that psychoanalytical genius— the way his cheeks appear a little too rosy than usual, then he didn’t question it.
Regardless, friends sneak into each other’s dorms. And if people get the wrong idea, that’s their problem!
Bonus:
The next day, Bachira happily announces to Otoya that he and Isagi were in a relationship. What? If they weren’t friends but still sneaked into each other’s dorms, then what did that make him and Karasu?
Otoya decided that Bachira and Isagi were the exception.
Otoya and Karasu were still strictly friends.
3. Friends playfully touch each other, it's totally normal.
The match is over. PxG won. Barely.
Otoya should be pissed. Really, he should. But, he’s just… distracted. Because Karasu is standing way too close, arms crossed, sweat still clinging to his neck, and smirking at him like he knows something.
"Ya guys almost had us," Karasu drawls, tilting his head playfully. "Almost."
Otoya huffs like a dejected child. "Oh shut up. If you weren’t such a pain in the ass, we would’ve won." There’s no real bitterness in his voice, just teasing banter.
Karasu grins. "Would’ve."
And it’s unfair, so unfair, how effortlessly good he looks after a match. How even when he’s drenched in glistening sweat, he’s still smug and sharp and ridiculously attractive. It should be illegal.
Otoya forces himself to focus.
"Next time," he says, flicking Karasu’s forehead just to be annoying. "I’m wiping that smirk off your face."
Karasu catches his wrist before he can pull away, his fingers warm and firm against Otoya’s skin. "Oh yeah?" he drawls, voice low, teasing. "I’d like ta see ya try."
And that’s when Otoya’s brain completely malfunctions.
Because— what the hell? Karasu’s holding onto his wrist, looking at him like that, like he’s actually daring him. And suddenly, Otoya’s face feels too warm over something so, so stupid.
Bachira, that little menace, whistles. Loudly. "Aww you guys are so cute," he sing-songs, eyes glinting with mischief. "I should start taking pictures~"
Otoya jerks his hand fast and he and Karasu whirl to stare at him.
And that’s when Otoya realizes—everyone is staring.
PXG. Barcha. Half the field is just watching them like they’re witnessing something straight out of a romance drama. Otoya turns back at Karasu, but whatever he was about to say dies in his throat.
Because Karasu is looking at him. Thinking. Like he wants to say something. Something that Otoya is not at all prepared to hear.
Otoya’s heart does that stupid thing where it flips over itself. He turns away.
"What?" Otoya said, his voice directed to the unwanted crowd, flustered and almost stuttering.
Shidou smirks. "Nothing. Just wondering when you two are finally gonna make it official."
Otoya chokes on air. "We’re not—"
Karasu—the traitor— laughs.
Like he isn’t even remotely bothered by the accusation. Like Otoya isn’t having some kind of internal crisis here. "Ya guys are so dramatic," Karasu says, shaking his head. "We’re jus’ friends."
Otoya ignored the ominous feeling in the pits of his stomach. The ugly, agonising pain and instead laughs with Karasu, albeit a bit weakly.
Friends playfully touch each other, it's totally normal.
4. Friends defend each other online. Aggressively, yet passionately. So what?
Ever since the NEL started, social media has been brutal. Otoya didn’t mean to see it at first, but it was everywhere.
Football fans from all across the world took it upon themselves to become self-proclaimed analysts, scrutinising the Blue Lock players, arguing who was better and who ‘fell off’.
Posts, comments, threads. Otoya has never seen so many jobless people in one place. Surely they had taxes to do? Children to raise? A hobby, maybe? But no—grown adults were devoting their entire existence to insulting teenagers playing football.
It was funny, really. Otoya was indifferent to all of this. He didn’t really care at all what others thought of him, he only played football for himself. He didn’t need validation from a bunch of keyboard warriors with anime profile pictures telling him what kind of player he was.
However, one thing he couldn’t help but notice was the Karasu slander. There weren't many of them, thankfully, but even one was too much for Otoya.
“mid”
“0 NEL goals”
“has a lame accent”
“got embarrassed by the ‘weakest link’ in the 3rd selection”
“moved to midfielder and stayed there”
Otoya was fuming. Who the hell were these people?!
Karasu was an important player to PxG. Karasu had humbled more players than Otoya could count. And his accent was objectively cool and endearing.
So, at 2AM, with only rage and a lack of self control fueling him, Otoya logged into his secret burner account.
It was time for war.
He started with the milder ones, replying under posts with a casual “You play for which team again? 🤨” just to bait them. But soon, he escalated.
“You’ve never touched grass, have you? Be honest.”
“Bold of you to speak when you don’t even know basic grammar.”
“Imagine getting cooked by a burner account at 2AM. Log off, loser.
Some fought back, but Otoya was too fast, too skilled, and too full of pettiness. He ratioed every single one of them.
By the time he was done, the battlefield was silent. The haters had either deleted their comments, stopped replying, or embarrassingly changed topics.
Victory.
Maybe it’s dumb, and maybe Karasu will never know. But Otoya cared. Maybe a tad too much.
Because friends defend each other online. Aggressively, yet passionately. So what?
Bonus:
Karasu wasn’t much of a social media guy. Too much drama, too many idiots. But every now and again, he liked to check what people were saying: see the reactions, the takes, and the silly memes.
But this morning… something was off.
Everywhere he looked, his name was trending alongside some random account.
@churrolover_312
Who was @churrolover_312?!
He clicked on one of the viral threads about this stranger, eyebrows furrowing as he read:
“Not even Karasu defends himself this hard LMAO”
“This churrolover guy is fighting for his LIFE in the replies 😭”
“Bro is Karasu’s #1 fan fr”
Karasu scrolled through the account, growing increasingly confused. These comebacks? This wording? The unhinged confidence? It all felt…strangely familiar.
Karasu shrugged, turning off his phone. How strange. Whoever this “churrolover_312” is, he’s grateful for them.
5. Friends comfort each other after nightmares, and snuggle together.
It was supposed to be a quiet night.
Otoya had, once again, snuck into PXG’s dorm under the guise of ‘just chilling’ with Karasu. After all, they had been chatting the night away, and, well, Otoya didn’t exactly want the night to end. And plus, Karasu was a surprisingly good listener, paying attention to whatever nonsense Otoya rambled on about.
Somehow, they both ended up falling asleep in Karasu’s bed—because of course they did. Karasu stretched out across it, arms folded neatly at his chest, and Otoya somehow managed to curl into a ball at the foot of the bed.
Everything was quiet. Until a soft whimper broke the silence.
Otoya blinked awake, his vision still blurry with sleep. He immediately looked over at Karasu. His best friend’s face was contorted in discomfort, his body jerking slightly as if he was caught in a bad dream.
“Karasu?” Otoya called softly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He was too groggy to think straight but he knew he didn’t like seeing Karasu like this.
Then came the dreaded sound again—Karasu's panicked voice, almost a whisper, muttering something inaudible.
Otoya’s heart gave a little squeeze. It wasn’t often that Karasu let his guard down like this. Usually, he was the epitome of being cool, composed, and calm. But the sight of him so vulnerable hit Otoya harder than he expected.
“Tabito.” Otoya tried again, (successfully) as he saw his friend’s body relax in the dim lamplight. Otoya shuffled closer, leaning over to gently tap Karasu’s shoulder. “Tabi, hey. It’s just a nightmare, dude. Wake up.”
At that, Karasu’s eyes shot open, wide and confused, like he was seeing the world for the first time. “‘Toya…?” He mumbled, still disoriented. “Did I… did I fall asleep on ya again?”
Otoya couldn’t help the soft chuckle that slipped out, brushing a hand through Karasu’s messy hair. God, he did love when Karasu’s hair was down, instead of it being gelled the hell up. “Yeah, and you had a nightmare so I woke you. You’re welcome.”
Karasu blinked, his face flushing instantly. “What? I didn’—”
“Totally did,” Otoya teased, but his voice softened when he saw traces of panic still present in Karasu’s eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re alright now.”
Karasu took a shaky breath, glancing around as if he’d forgotten where he was, then settled back into Otoya’s arms, dropping his head on Otoya’s shoulder. “Sorry ‘bout that. I just... it felt so real.”
“No need to apologise,” Otoya replied quietly, rubbing Karasu’s back in soothing circles, his fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt. He had no idea what was going on inside Karasu’s head but he knew how to comfort him. That was enough for now. “You’re safe here. No nightmares can get you when I’m around, okay?”
Karasu made a small, tired sound of agreement. “Yer weirdly good at this comfortin’ thing, ‘toya.”
“Well, I’ll have you know I’m a reeeaally good cuddler,” Otoya drawled, searching for Karasu’s beautiful blue eyes.
Karasu snorted, lifting his head just enough to raise an eyebrow at Otoya. “Cuddles? Bro, no way.”
Otoya gave him a look. “What? Are you saying you don’t like snuggling your best bro after a nightmare? That’s cold, Tabito. Very cold.”
Karasu squinted at Otoya in the dark, his gaze analysing him silently. When he finally spoke, his voice was smooth and devoid of surprise. “Oh? Using my given name so easily, Eita?”
“So? Got a problem with that?” Otoya teased back, sliding further into the covers. Guess he’s gonna have to sleep here tonight.
Karasu rolled his eyes, but Otoya could see the corners of his lips twitching into a small smile. “Fine, fine, I get it. Yer the best bro. Now can we jus’... get some sleep?”
Otoya chuckled, feeling his heart warm despite himself. He shifted, making sure Karasu was comfortable as he readjusted the blanket over them both. “Yeah, yeah. No more nightmares. Just sleep, Karasu. No drooling, though, okay? I’m not cleaning that up.”
Karasu groaned and leaned back into Otoya’s side with a half-laugh, half-grumble. “Don’t worry, Eita, I’ll make sure to keep my tongue away from ya. Tonight.”
Otoya smirked, resting his head back. “You say that now, but in a few minutes, you’ll be asleep and drooling again. It’s just how you work.”
Karasu only snuggled closer to Otoya in response.
The warmth of the moment wrapped around them like the blanket. They were still, quiet, with only the sound of Karasu’s breathing slowly evening out. Otoya felt his heart settle, the weight of the day fading, and with it, the anxiety that had been gnawing at him.
And as much as Otoya told himself he was just comforting his friend, his best friend, he knew that this—whatever it was—meant something more. Did it?
But for now? Otoya paused, taking a not-so-subtle glance at Karasu’s tranquil sleeping form. For now, he was happy just to be here, quietly making sure Karasu felt safe.
No big deal. Just friends.
Because friends comfort each other after nightmares, and snuggle together.
+1. Friends definitely don't think about kissing each other.
Otoya should not be thinking about this.
They’re just sitting together—like always—watching a dumb game recap on Karasu’s phone. There’s nothing unusual, nothing different.
Except Karasu is really close. Like way too close.
Otoya tries to focus on the screen, trying to drown out the rhythmic thrum of his own heartbeat in his ears. But Karasu's presence is too much. His shoulder brushing against Otoya’s, their legs inches apart, just close enough for Otoya to feel the heat radiating off him, but not enough to be too weird.
And then Otoya’s eyes flicker to his lips again.
This is insane. He shouldn't be doing this. Karasu is his best friend. They’re just friends, nothing more. He’s straight. He is.
But Karasu is so close.
Otoya feels a strange tightness in his chest, and when Karasu looks up at him, eyes sharp and knowing, something shifts. The world feels like it slows, and his heart does that stupid thing where it starts to race faster than it should.
Karasu is looking at him, like he can see right through him, like he knows exactly what’s going on in his mind. Otoya tries to look away, but it’s like his eyes are locked in a magnetic field, unable to escape the pull of his gaze.
He finally tears his gaze away, but his breath comes out too fast, too shaky. His heart is pounding.
"Hey, what’s up?" Karasu's voice is casual, but there’s an edge to it—like he’s asking more than just the obvious question.
Otoya swallows hard, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to look cool, casual, but the heat in his face betrays him once more–his own body is just never on his side, is it? "Nothing." He laughs awkwardly, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. "Just… tired, I guess."
Karasu stares at him for a long moment, then glances back down at the phone. "Ya know," he says, tapping the screen distractedly, "Yer a terrible liar."
Otoya can feel his pulse in his throat. This is ridiculous. He can’t keep acting like this. This isn’t how friends act. His eyes trail back to Karasu’s.
But then, before he can figure out what to say—what to do—Karasu suddenly leans closer, so close that Otoya’s breath catches in his throat. His heartbeat quickens again, and before Otoya can even process it, Karasu’s hand rests on his knee. It’s a simple gesture, but it feels electric.
Otoya freezes, caught in the moment.
"Karasu—"
But Karasu doesn’t let him finish. Instead, he leans in just a little more, closing the distance between them, and Otoya’s stomach flips. It’s happening.
Oh, it’s happening.
In a rush of warmth and nerves, Otoya's lips are on Karasu’s before he can think better of it. The kiss is tentative at first, just a brush, like Karasu is testing him. But then—then—when Otoya doesn’t pull away, he feels Karasu’s hand slide to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, deepening it. The world tilts, and all Otoya can focus on is the soft pressure of Karasu’s lips, the gentle pressure of his hand, the way his heartbeat matches his own, fast and frantic.
The kiss drowns out whatever lingering thoughts he has that swirls around his mind, his mind is blank.
This is… this is perfect.
Karasu pulls away, just enough to make Otoya’s chest ache with the absence, and his lips curl into that infuriating smirk. "Thought ya were straight."
Otoya blinks, his heart still pounding. "I—I am." He’s not sure who he’s trying to convince. He’s straight. …Is he?
But Karasu just ignores Otoya’s clear denial, his fingers lightly tracing Otoya’s jawline in a way that makes his mind feel all fuzzy inside. "Are ya sure?" he teases, voice smooth and low.
Otoya swallows hard. He’s not sure. But one thing he is certain of—they’re not just friends anymore.
And that’s okay. They’re still–
“By the way,” Karasu murmurs with a smirk, “It’s Tabito for ya.”
Otoya’s eyes widen slightly. “H-huh?”
“Call me Tabito, ya goddamn angel.”