Archive of Our Own

"Seriously. What kinda person takes someone's gloves on the coldest day of the year without askin' first?" Osamu grumbles. He brings his fingers to his lips, in the hopes that any warm air he can exhale will somehow help them to regain feeling.

Whoever started the saying that anger makes your blood run hot is a damn liar. Because if anger could increase someone's body temperature, Osamu wouldn't be freezing his ass off right now. Also include anyone who's ever said that they were so jealous that Osamu had a twin, he must be so lucky in the damn liar category. It's his stupid twin's fault he's in this mess in the first place.

Osamu is a simple guy. Sharing is a part of life, and doing it really doesn't bother him all that much. But sharing without asking first is just stealing, and that really gets under his skin. And Atsumu knows that it gets under his skin, but he does it anyways just to piss Osamu off. Damn bastard.

Suna's cutting glance is almost as icy as the wind whipping against Osamu's cheeks.

"Didn't know that hypothermia in your hands made it impossible for you to walk at a reasonable pace."

That's easy for him to say, since he actually has gloves and a scarf. Hyogo doesn't usually get that cold, even in January, but they've been in a hellish cold snap for a whole week. The temperature's been in the single digits, but this early in the morning, without the sun to help bring the temperature up, it might as well be in the negatives.

"Why's it matter? Not like yer ever on time anyways."

The cold is, perhaps, making Osamu slightly bitter, but he's still right. Suna's always the last one to get to practice.

"It matters because if we miss the bus, then we're gonna miss training camp. Kita will leave without us, and I don't know about you, but I don't have 'taxi to Kyoto' money."

"Ya don't get it." Osamu begins exaggerating the drag in his feet, the cold piercing all the way into his joints. "It won't matter if we make it to trainin' camp if I don't have fingers anymore."

"Osamu."

Osamu stares forlornly down at his hands, already mourning their inevitable amputation once the hypothermia becomes irreversible.

"No more two man blocks for us. The ball's just gonna go right through where my fingers used t'be. Good luck blockin' all by yerself from now on."

"Osamu."

"I bet Tsumu'll even set to me more today since he knows my hands're all fucked up from the cold."

"Osamu."

Suna rolls his eyes, extends his hands forward …

"That scrub. He has a million pairs of gloves, ya know. Stupid setters and their stupid, obsessive nail c —"

And grabs Osamu by the cheeks to press their lips together.

It's short. The whole thing lasts no more than a few seconds. Entirely innocent, except for the way Osamu finally feels warm. His cheeks, his chest, the palms of his hands — all of it burns without abandon. Blood thrums against his eardrums as he short circuits. His brain attempting to comprehend what all of his senses are telling his brain that they just felt.

Did Suna just … kiss him?

Osamu's lips tingle. He doesn't want to lick them, just in case the feeling goes away if he does.

"Come on," Suna says as though nothing happened. "We're gonna be late."

He takes off at a jog, attempting to make up for lost time.

For several long seconds, Osamu is incapable of moving. Surprised beyond measure. As the time drags on, all of the heat that Suna provided begins to fade away. Like a warm quilt being yanked back come morning, taking with it the sweet dream he was in the middle of.

Osamu chases after him.

/////

The closest school worth their time to train with is Inubushi High. They trade off every year which school hosts for the weekend and which school travels. This year, it's Inarizaki's turn to make the trip out to Kyoto.

They do manage to make it to the bus on time. They somehow get there before Atsumu, which is weird since he left earlier than they did. Osamu makes sure to rub it in when Atsumu sprints through the door of the bus, still panting from running the last kilometer.

The bus ride passes in the blink of an eye. Osamu and Suna can both sleep anywhere, so they always sit next to each other when traveling. That way they can just nap the whole time. When he hears Kita announcing to the bus that they've made it Osamu gently starts moving the shoulder that Suna's cheek has come to rest on. This is far from the first time that one of them has fallen asleep on the other, but some small voice in the center of his chest is sad to have to wake him.

Osamu must still be tired.

He locates the locker room thanks to muscle memory from previous training camps. There'll be time to deal with their overnight stuff later, but for now Osamu is just ready to move. The grip the cold still has on his muscles, even inside, and being cooped up in a bus for three hours have him ready to shake off the creaky feeling that's overtaking him.

Stretching and warm ups all feel perfunctory. Just going through the motions until they're allowed to start playing. They'll do just one match tonight since it's a travel day, but for the rest of the weekend, it's as many sets as they can until they drop.

Exhausting, but good practice.

Inarizaki loses the coin toss, so they're serving first. Atsumu's practically jumping out of his skin with excitement as the takes the ball to the back of the court, the damn dweeb.

The whistle blows. The game starts.

Osamu tries to stay focused, but his thoughts keep drifting until it's like he's watching the game happen to someone else.

Did Suna actually kiss him today? This morning could have been days ago, or just mere seconds. It's hard to keep track. His memory of it is still sharp. The soft skin of his lips and the smell of his conditioner and the twitching in his own hands as he wanted to do anything but stand still. And he feels like there's something else he should be remembering right now, but his brain just keeps repeating Suna kissed me Suna kissed me Suna kissed me Suna kissed —

"Samu!"

Oh, right, he's in the middle of a game.

Atsumu just set to him, again, and he's already a half step behind. Osamu knew Atsumu would set him more today, the damn bastard. His knuckles still feel creaky from the cold, so the spike hurts like hell. It certainly isn't his best work, but he gets them the point, which is really all that matters.

Keeping his focus for the rest of the game continues to be an uphill battle, but Osamu (mostly) manages. It's considerably easier when he's in the back row and Suna is swapped with Akagi. The two of them always talk during games. Sometimes out of necessity, to discuss strategy. Other times to just to shit talk the other team. It's harder than normal to follow Suna's words. His eyes end up lingering on Suna's lips so hard that his ears miss the sounds coming out of them.

Osamu surprises himself with how focused he is during the second two sets. Granted, it's not like he has much of a choice, since plotting how he's gonna strangle this first year line judge and not go to prison for it takes a surprising amount of mental fortitude.

Inubushi's got some second stringers helping keep the camp running. Line judging, filling water bottles, sweeping the floor between sets — whatever the coaches need a hand with. The kid line judging their first game was fine, but they swapped for some reason at the top of the second set, and this other kid can't see shit.

He's calling all of Osamu's hits out when they're nowhere near the line. Accusing him of touching a ball on a block that Atsumu's busy yelling at him for not jumping high enough to touch. He even gets called for a foot fault on a serve at one point.

A foot fault.

On his jump serve.

His jump serve that starts five steps behind the line and he spends most of in the fucking air.

It's not the whole Inarizaki team he's calling like this either. It's just Osamu — which pisses him off even more. He has no idea what he possibly could've done to upset this first year off so bad, but he's clearly paying the price for it now.

They end up losing the next two sets 27-25 and 25-22. The games being as close as they are makes the muscles in Osamu's jaw clench so tight his back teeth grind against each other. That stupid first year called him for bullshit way more times than points they lost by. If they'd had someone who actually knew what they were doing line judging, they easily could've won.

Osamu makes it to the locker room without tearing the kid's head off solely out of fear of what Kita will do to him if he tries. Suna's presence at his side is also a deterrent, but in a different way from Kita. It's more … comforting. Which is weird, because Suna's just as much of a bitch as he is. Probably more so. Maybe that's where the comfort comes from. Knowing Suna isn't judging him for being angry. That he isn't going anywhere because of it and doesn't think less of him for it.

They're the first two into the guest locker room. Osamu slams his locker open, letting the metal rattle at the force.

"That first year they had line judgin' needs to get his eyes checked. No, better yet — he should just pick a different sport entirely."

"Osamu."

Other members of their team begin to trickle in. Their side conversations all background noise to Osamu's venting.

"Preferably one that doesn't require eyes. Or other people."

Kita's voice is easier to pick out. Only that he's speaking though. Not what he's actually saying. Suna's eyes are darting around. All cunning and pretty.

"Osamu."

Osamu can always make out Suna through any haze. (Don't think about making out with Suna. Don't think about making out with Suna. Do. Not. Think. About. Making. Out. With. Suna.) His voice is grounding.

"I got a fuckin' foot foul, Suna. A foot foul! He called it while I's still in the air. How do ya even —"

The first thing Osamu thinks is, Mmm, this is nice.

The second thing Osamu thinks is, Holy fuck, Suna is kissing me again.

By the time he gets around to his second thought, the kiss is already over, but it's after effects still linger. His brain to mouth pipeline has fully gone offline. Words failing him as his whole face overheats.

Osamu hopes that Suna doesn't think he's a bad kisser just because he loses the ability to move properly when he kisses him. It's not his fault he's caught off guard. He's still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Suna, apparently, kisses him now.

"The game's over. There's nothing you can do about it now." At the sound of Suna's voice, Osamu feels himself physically relaxing. Tension from the loss dissipating. Muscles no longer painfully clenched. "Just win the next one."

Suna's right. He can always just try again tomorrow. Training camp just started, it's still …

His thoughts trail off as Osamu realizes that the whole locker room has gone quiet. And that everyone's staring at him. Osamu stares back that them.

Expressions range from mild surprise to wide eyed bewilderment to nuclear distress. The latter end of the spectrum is, of course, occupied exclusively by Atsumu, who is gonna start catching flies if he keeps his mouth open that wide for much longer.

The whole room takes a collective breath as Osamu can feel his teammates all preparing a rallying cry of questions.

Which, any questions they do have, Osamu can't help them answer because he's just as confused as they are. If they really want answers, they should turn their attention towards Suna and ask him what the fuck is up. Osamu'll even lead the charge. He has just as many questions as they do.

"As I was saying." Kita's voice is sharp as it redirects the team's focus to their captain. "Dinner starts in ten minutes over in the main building. It would be rude to our hosts if he were late."

Osamu sighs in relief. No one's gonna dare make a scene of interrogating him under Kita's watchful eye. He's safe until at least after dinner.

Suna is the first to leave, Gin and Akagi trailing after him with half babbled questions. That's good. Let Suna deal with that.

Osamu decides to change out of his practice uniform, hoping the fresh clothes will help him shake off the last of his anger towards that dumb first year. By the time he finishes, he's the last one in the locker room. Hopefully he can make it to the main building before Kita yells at him. He heads out of the locker room, towards —

"Oh, no ya don't!"

Atsumu jumps out from the hidden side of the doorframe and shoves Osamu back into the locker room. There's just one way in or out, and Atsumu stands in it like a refrigerator, effectively trapping Osamu inside.

"Ya didn't tell me ya started datin' Sunarin!" Atsumu bellows. "Yer such a shit twin, Samu!"

Why is he so upset? His words are brash, but he looks on the verge of tears.

"First of all, yer the shit twin for stealin' my gloves this mornin'. Second of all, I ain't datin' Suna."

"Then why's he kissin' ya?"

Osamu's face pinches. He doesn't really have a good answer for that. The closest thing to one he can come up with is a tossup between because I don't hate it and because it's Suna, but both of those feel like they'll just make the Atsumu yelling/interrogation situation worse.

He's in the middle of stuttering out a response when Kita makes his presence known behind Atsumu. He doesn't even have to say anything to do it. The temperature of the whole room just drops several degrees with his arrival. Almost like he's a vampire or something.

"Atsumu. The rest of the team is on their way to dinner. You should be with them."

Atsumu grumbles like he might try to talk back, but thinks better of it. Heading down the hallway with a lumbering trudge in his walk.

"Thanks, Kita."

"It's no problem." Kita starts to leave, then turns to face him again. "Although it might not have been the most traditional approach to telling the whole team, I am proud of you and Suna for finally getting on the same page. I wish the two of you well with this new development." He nods once, then heads off.

Osamu stares at the spot where Kita just was for a very long time and wonders what that means.

/////

Osamu decides that surely he must've imagined the whole thing. That Suna kissing him (twice) was just a training camp blip. That now they're back to real life, and Suna doesn't kiss him in real life.

The first time he sees Suna back at school, it's easy. Natural. They walk to school together and go to class and then to practice and walk the same path home and stay up too late texting and wake up and do it all again tomorrow. Nothing about his relationship with Suna changes.

(Except the way he's always extra aware of how close Suna is to him. Except the way Osamu notices his gaze lingering on Suna. Except the way his breath hitches when he catches Suna staring back. Except the look in Suna's eyes when Osamu catches him staring first.)

It's exactly the same, really.

Which is why Osamu is so caught off guard when it happens again a few days later.

They're out seeing a movie together. A few of their other friends were supposed to go with them, but they all flaked last minute, so it ended up being just the two of them.

The worst of the cold snap has subsided, leaving a much more tolerable chill in its wake. The kind that can be almost pleasant with a warm drink in hand and good company to keep the cold at bay. Osamu stops and buys hot chocolate for him and Suna without thinking.

The cinema near them is doing some series on horror movies that Suna's been really excited about. Osamu looked at the info on their website, and it actually sounded pretty cool. They're showing different horror movies — from super old ones to more recent ones — basically non-stop every weekend this month. Horror isn't exactly Osamu's genre of choice, the way it is Suna's, but it had made Suna so happy when Osamu said that he'd go, he couldn't possibly refuse him.

Suna buys the tickets and Osamu buys them snacks. Popcorn with extra butter and M&Ms and a coke to share. Their theater's mostly empty so they get to sit right in the middle and put their feet on the seats in front of them without bothering anyone.

"Did you get napkins?" Suna asks, holding his butter-covered fingers up as explanation.

"Nah, I forgot."

Suna huffs, then licks them clean one at a time. Osamu's too busy staring at his mouth to notice the mischievous glint in Suna's eyes as his now saliva-covered fingers are wiped Osamu's pant legs to dry them off.

"Yer disgustin'." Osamu chastises.

"Oh, please," he smirks. "You love me."

Suna sounds like he's teasing. And he definitely is.

So why does Osamu's heart feel like it's about to beat out of his chest?

The room around them darkens as the trailers come to an end and the movie begins. Osamu trains his eyes forward. If he pays extra close attention to the movie, then nothing can sneak up on him and scare him. He's just gotta focus. That's all.

Suna makes it hard. Sometimes in ways he can control, like throwing popcorn at Osamu right as the zombie jumps out just to scare him. Other times it's just because he can't look away.

The movie ends on a cliff hanger. The protagonists just figured out what will cure the zombie apocalypse they're in the throes of, but still have to find a way to administer it to all of humanity.

Suna stretches his arms over his head.

"Wanna watch the next one?"

Osamu shrugs. "Sure. Why not."

They wind up staying for two more movies.

The first movie they watched was actually the first of a trilogy, and by the time they got through the second one, they were too invested to leave before figuring out how it ended. The second film in the series was by far the best. Adding onto the world building and introducing new side characters and keeping Osamu on the edge of his seat.

That last one though …

"What the everlivin' fuck was that endin'?"

It's darker outside than Osamu expects it to be as they leave the cinema, but then again time always passes weird in movie theaters. The streets are full of people — some heading home for the day, others just starting their night. Osamu does his best to avoid them as he keeps ranting.

"They've been chased by zombies for three whole movies, and you're tellin' me that the main character hadn't figured out that 's probably a bad idea to leave the compound without a weapon to go investigate a weird noise?"

Suna yawns beside him. He'd spent most of the third movie with his head resting on Osamu's shoulder. Small gasps or grumbled responses to Osamu's outbursts the only sign he was still awake.

"Osamu."

"Her sacrificin' herself in't even worth it cause everybody's too busy watchin' her get eaten to make a run for it. 'N then the zombies just get to win? What the hell!"

"Osamu."

"If we're ever in a zombie apocalypse, Suna, you gotta promise me that ya won't let me die in vain if the zombies eat me while I —"

Suna cuts him off with a kiss.

The first thing Osamu does is smile.

The second thing he does is turn tomato red.

Because they're in public. There are strangers around. And Suna kissed him like it was nothing. Like it's normal and casual and something they do all the time. Like they're an actual couple. Like he might thread their fingers together as they walk and ask him what he wants to do for their next date.

Oh god — what if he does? Suna's kinda been doing anything lately. He really might just hold Osamu's hand and ask him on a date. His palms clam up. He can't hold Suna's hand if his hands are all sweaty. He starts rubbing both hands on his pant legs, making sure to —

Wait.

Hang on.

Does Osamu want Suna to hold his hand? It kinda seems like he does — but that doesn't make any sense.

"Can we go home now?"

"Yeah." Osamu blinks the haze from his eyes. "We can go home."

Suna nods wearily, more like he's trying to stay awake than affirm that he heard him, then starts walking towards their bus. Osamu shoves his hands in his pocket and walks after him.

/////

Osamu's relationship with Suna is exactly the same as it was before training camp. With one small exception.

Suna will not stop kissing him.

It's becoming a daily occurrence.

It happens when they're staying late for class duty and Osamu offers to change out the gross mop water so Suna doesn't have to touch it. It happens when Osamu is explaining how he got the chicken in his bento to stay crispy all the way to lunch. It happens when they're working on homework and Suna asks him what he got for number four and Osamu lets him copy his answer. It happens when they're walking home from practice and Osamu is saying anything to avoid having to say good night.

It happens and happens and happens, and every time it does, Osamu is sure that'll be the last time, but then it never is.

Nothing else is different, they just kiss now. Or — Suna kisses Osamu now. Osamu still hasn't figured out if he's allowed to kiss Suna back.

And one would think that with how often his thoughts drift to kissing Suna, he'd have come to some kind of conclusion about that by now, but no such luck. Instead he's just thinking about Suna all the time. It's like he's seeping into all corners of Osamu's mind. Every thought coming back to him.

Osamu's losing it. He knows he should probably do something about it, but, for the life of him, he can't figure out what that something is.

Talking about it with his mom sounds mortifying, so that's definitely out. Talking about it with Atsumu has all of the same downsides of talking to his mom about it (because he will absolutely snitch on Osamu), plus the inevitable bullying, so that's out. He couldn't possibly talk to Suna about it. Among his other friends, Gin's a great guy, but he's even worse than Osamu when it comes to piecing together social situations. Talking about it with Kita feels like going to a monk for life advice, and Osamu doesn't think he can say the word kiss in front of Kita as many times as explaining this requires without exploding.

So, that just leaves Aran.

Who is, all things considered, a great person to go to when it feels like your world is exploding and nothing makes any sense anymore. He's got a good head on his shoulders. He's thoughtful, compassionate — a really solid, lifelong friend that Osamu knows has his best interests at heart. Someone who has always been there for him, with sage advice and a calm, cool demeanor.

"Osamu, what the fuck?!"

But even he has his limits.

"What do you mean you've been kissing Suna?"

"Weren't ya listenin'? Suna's been kissin' me."

Osamu scrubs his hands down his face.

It's hopeless. If even Aran can't figure out what to do, Osamu might as well throw in the towel and accept that he's gonna be kissed by Suna Rintarou every day for the rest of his life.

Wait.

That doesn't sound that bad.

Why did he even come here to begin with?

Osamu stands up to leave.

"Sit," Aran says without looking at him, eyes trained firmly at the ceiling. The old bench wobbles slightly as Osamu sits down next to him. Aran tilts his chin to one side, the confusion in his eyes too heavy to let his head remain upright. "You have to talk to him about it."

"I can't do that."

"Well, tough luck, because I'm not offering you any other advice."

Osamu knows it's childish to pout, but he can't help it. He came here for advice he couldn't think up himself. Not to be told the most obvious thing to do ever — which also just so happens to be something that he can't possibly go through with.

"Look." Aran places a comforting hand on the back of Osamu's shoulder. "If I knew what Suna was thinking, I'd tell you. But the fact is, I don't. The only one what can tell you that is Suna himself."

Osamu chews at the inside of his cheek. He'll never say this out loud, but he's a little scared of Suna's thoughts. He doesn't even know what he's scared of Suna thinking, he just knows that finding out makes him want to crawl out of his skin, so he'd like to avoid it for as long as possible.

Aran uses the hand on Osamu's shoulder to jostle him a little bit, forcing Osamu to look at him instead of thousand yard staring somewhere off in the middle distance.

"No matter what he's thinking, you two are friends. You'll figure out whatever it is that's got him kissing you all of a sudden."

Aran stands to leave and Osamu is once again alone. In the silence, Aran's words linger, bouncing around Osamu's head as bouncing thoughts try to solidify into a coherent path forward.

Suna is his best friend. They can talk about anything and come out the other side side fine. Osamu isn't worried that one conversation will make things go so poorly he loses Suna forever. Suna's stuck with him — anything else literally isn't an option. Plus, some clarity would be nice. Maybe he should just bite the bullet and take Aran's advice.

It's the logical thing to do.

/////

Fuck being logical.

Suna didn't have any logic when he started kissing Osamu. Why should Osamu have to use any sort of logic now? And, really, its not like Osamu minds that Suna kisses him all the time.

He'd never really kissed anyone before this started, and, frankly, didn't get the hype. It seemed like it'd be too wet or saliva-y, and he didn't really understand the desire to make out. Shouldn't one kiss be enough? What could possibly be the reason to want more?

Well, Osamu thinks he's found the answer now. It's the butterflies — the cliché little fuckers who make his stomach go all loopy and his brain start buzzing the second Suna's lips are on him. He can't imagine it feeling this ok — this good — with anyone else. But if it's Suna, then it's alright.

And, maybe, hopefully, it's alright for Suna too.

Osamu wonders about that sometimes. If it feels the same for Suna as it does for him. If he thinks about what it'd be like to kiss until their lips are swollen and their pupils are blown wide and they can't catch their breath. If he thinks about things other than kissing. Like holding hands or falling asleep next to each other or giving him his jacket when he's cold.

Suna's face is frustratingly impassive though. He doesn't crack the same way around the edges that Osamu does. That might just be because he always knows the kiss is coming. He never gets caught off guard the way that Osamu does.

Osamu has also started to catch on to the fact that it usually happens when he's rambling. That Suna uses it as a way to get him out of his head and back to reality. So that could also be why Osamu is always so surprised by it.

The day that Osamu figures this out is also the day that he stays up until two in the morning reading every WikiHow article with the word conversation in the title.

How To Start A Conversation. How To Be A Good Conversationalist. Things To Talk About In A Conversation. List Of Conversation Starters. How To Keep A Conversation Going.

He's never considered himself much of a conversationalist. Osamu doesn't talk just to hear the sound of his own voice the way Atsumu does. He speaks when it's needed or he has something to say and that's about it. It's something he appreciates about his friendship with Suna. How much they're able to understand each other without having to spell it out.

Recently though, Osamu has been wanting to tell Suna everything. Thoughts slip out as he has them, because he can't imagine Suna not knowing everything about him.

Sometimes, on days where his brain is all jumbled and his words don't come as easily, he gets disappointed that he doesn't have enough sentences to string together for Suna to interrupt him with a kiss. But Suna kisses him anyways. Softly and sweetly and in a way that says I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere.

Those days are Osamu's favorites.

/////

Osamu is about to head back into the club room after practice when he hears someone say his name.

"So, did Osamu ever end up talking to you?"

It's Aran's voice. And he's talking to …

"About what?"

Suna.

He's talking to Suna.

Osamu could go into club room. Could interrupt and ask Aran what the hell he's talking about and why he's going to Suna about it, not Osamu. But, he's got to admit, he's curious too. So he stays put, bringing his ear closer to the opening of the door, and prays no one walks by and sees him like this.

"Oh … ya know." Aran's voice shoots up two octaves. Osamu knows Aran well enough to know what he sounds like flustered, and this is clearly it. "How you've been, well, I mean that you guys — ugh, come on man don't make me say it."

Suna huffs a laugh.

"Oh, that. Nah, not really."

There's a few seconds of silence.

"Dude."

"What?"

"You can't just keep … doing that and not talking about it!"

Osamu, personally, doesn't have the same issue with this as he does, but that's been Aran's stance from the beginning, so he isn't exactly surprised.

"It's fine," Suna says. "We don't need to talk about it. He knows I mean it."

It's only as Osamu finds himself nodding along to Suna's words that he realizes he does know that Suna means it. Because Suna doesn't do things he doesn't want to. Ever. So if kissing Osamu is part of his daily routine, it's because it's something he wants to do.

The thought isn't some world shattering revelation.

It's like hearing the start of a nursery rhyme his parents told him as a kid and reciting the rest even though he hasn't heard it in years. Something innate and intrinsic that he didn't need to learn, but merely be reminded of.

Suna means it when he kisses him. Suna wants to kiss him. Suna wants him.

Osamu turns and heads the other way down the hall. The muscles in his cheeks pull the corners of his mouth into a smile as he thinks to himself, I guess Suna and I are dating. I guess Suna Rintarou is my boyfriend.

/////

Osamu decides to celebrate this new development by taking Suna with him to his favorite farmer's market on Saturday. He's pretty sure that Suna would've gone with him no matter what, but the promise of buying him coffee and cooking him lunch with whatever they buy definitely sweetens the deal.

He likes to get there right when they open, since it gets so crowded later in the day. When there's less people, it's easier to wander and flit between stalls as soon as something new catches his eye. He's come so often that all the vendors know him by name and offer him advice on the best cooking methods for their ingredients, or just cooking in general. Their wisdom flowing through him and making him itch to get in the kitchen.

This part is definitely more fun for Osamu than it is for Suna, but he tries to find ways to keep him included. He stays close to Suna, guiding him through the market with a hand on his low back. Making sure to point out anything he thinks he might enjoy and buying Suna anything he stares at for too long.

Osamu doesn't know much about how to be a good boyfriend yet, but he's pretty sure this is a start.

"Osamu!" A familiar voice calls out.

Osamu smiles and steers Suna towards the stall of the old woman calling his name. Hanako was one of the first of the farmers at the market to recognize Osamu and commit his name to memory. She could tell how much Osamu enjoyed cooking from just talking to him and gave him his first chef's knife for his birthday last year, an old hand me down the she didn't have space in her kitchen for anymore. It's his prized possession.

"Good mornin', Hanako."

"Good morning, Osamu," she parrots. "How did the cabbage turn out last week?"

"It was ok. The seasonin' turned out nice, but it didn't crisp up in the pan as much as I wanted it to, so it ended up bein' mushy."

She tilts her head to the side. "Did you do it in small batches like I said, or did ya put it all in the pan at the same time?"

Osamu sighs and stares down at his shoes. "The second one."

"I don't tell you things just cause I like the sound of my own voice, ya know?" She chastises. "I'd like for you to have edible food at the end of this."

Suna snickers under his breath and Osamu elbows him in the ribs. At least he's trying to get better at cooking. Suna forgot to put water in the cup with his mac and cheese before microwaving it last week and almost set his house on fire, so maybe he should be the one paying attention to Hanako's advice.

"And who's this?" Hanako asks, her eyes drifting to Suna at Osamu's side.

"Oh, this is my boyfriend, Suna Rintarou."

Next to him, Suna makes a sound like he's choking on his own spit. His face is also redder than Osamu has ever seen it.

"Y'ok?"

Maybe he's choking on something? Or swallowed air down the wrong way? Osamu thumps Suna firmly in the center of his back a few times, hoping to dislodge anything that might've gotten stuck. After Suna coughs a couple more times, Osamu swaps to rubbing large circles over the expanse of Suna's back. Checking him over to make sure he's alright.

"Yeah," Suna manages. "I'm good."

He smiles softly, if a little sheepishly, but Osamu is distracted by the warm glint in his eyes and the way that his smile makes his cheeks rounder. It's a rare kind of smile. One he doesn't see Suna wear often. One that's just for him.

Osamu threads their fingers together, then turns back to Hanako. She's looking fondly at them. Osamu has a feeling this moment will be important when he looks back on it, but can't place why.

Hanako makes an effort to involve Suna in their conversation from then on. Asking him what year he is in school and if he ever cooks for Osamu and what his parents do and promising to come watch the two of them play the next time Inarizaki has a home game. She puts all of the produce — radishes and sweet potatoes and a fresh head of cabbage for Osamu to try again with — and hands them to Suna.

"Osamu's a good boy, ya know. And very dear to me." Her hands are wrapped around Suna's, making sure she has his full focus. "You better be good to him."

Suna blushes. Osamu feels himself do them same.

"I will," Suna nods.

The market has started to pick up speed. More people milling about between the stalls now that the morning is well and truly on it's way, the sun settling high over the mountains. Osamu carries all his bags in his left hand so he can hold Suna's hand with his right. Suna does the same, hooking the bag Hanako gave him on his elbow so he can drink his coffee and hold Osamu's hand while still carrying it.

Their bus stop isn't far from here. Just a block or two over. They walk leisurely in that direction, neither of them in any rush. With the sun shining brightly and the clean, clear air of spring feeling well on its way, Suna by his side, recipe ideas zipping and buzzing around his head like a halo, Osamu wishes he could live in this moment forever. The happiness that exists on the precipice of preparing a meal for someone he loves.

"So, boyfriend, huh?"

Suna's voice and expression give nothing away, but it makes Osamu bashful nonetheless. He really had just said that, hadn't he?

"'s that alright with you?"

"Very."

Suna looks pleased with himself. An easy grin settling like victory over his face.

Something in his response makes Osamu feel brave.

"How about this?"

Their pace has slowed to nearly a stop, but Osamu takes it the rest of the way there, turning to face Suna. He's never done this before, but he really, really wants to try.

Osamu tilts his head to one side, leans in, and kisses Suna for the first time.

It's just as quick and gentle as all of the kisses Suna's given him. Something about knowing that he's kissing his boyfriend makes it even sweeter.

When he pulls away, Suna's eyes flutter open. The slightly stunned look it gives him is one that Osamu could very much get used to. Is that what Suna sees every time he kisses him?

"That's definitely alright with me."

Osamu can't stop smiling the whole bus ride home.

When they finally make it back to his house, Suna holds the door open for him and asks, "So, what're you making me for lunch?"

"I thought ya promised Hanako ya'd cook with me at the market."

"After you woke me up at the crack of dawn —"

"Nine."

"— to go to the farmer's market with you? Honestly, Samu, the least you could do is make your boyfriend lunch."

Suna blinks slowly and Osamu feels like he's being hypnotized. He looks incredibly pleased with himself, and Osamu is kicking himself internally for how easily he folds when Suna looks like that.

He doesn't need to say anything for Suna to know he's already won, he can just tell. After depositing his bag of produce on the kitchen table, Suna hoists himself onto the kitchen counter.

While Osamu starts chopping vegetables and pulling out pans, Suna supervises. His discerning eyes taking in all of Osamu's prep work. Watching as he sets about making them lunch. Teasing him to not put too much cabbage in the pan this time.

Once the first round of it's through in the pan, Osamu picks up a piece with chopsticks and extends it towards Suna.

"Alright, give this a try."

Suna wraps his lips around the chopsticks, taking the cabbage into his mouth. "Oh my god, Osamu that's —"

"Disgustin'!" Atsumu yells from the doorway.

Huh. He's back early.

"Why're ya feedin' him? He's got ten fingers, let him lend a helpin' hand."

"Tsumu!" Osamu gnarls. Twin telepathy is bullshit, but in this one moment he wishes it was real so he could tell Atsumu to shut the fuck up.

"What? 'm I interruptin' yer date or somethin'?" He snorts like he's made the funniest joke his two brain cells have ever come up with.

"Yeah, actually, yer interruptin'. Can't ya go over to Aran's or somethin'?"

These words seem to confuse Atsumu's pea sized brain.

"Huh?"

"We get it, you're painfully single." Suna's tone is lazy, unaffected. "Doesn't mean you have to make those of us in relationships suffer to match."

"Y'ain't datin' anybody either Sunarin. I don't know what yer on about."

"I am dating someone."

"Who?"

"Your brother."

His bluntness catches even Osamu off guard, and he already knows that he's dating Suna. Atsumu, who clearly did not expect this news, is even more flustered and even worse at hididng it.

"My … — yeah right! I ain't fallin' for that. If that two of ya were datin', Samu would told me …"

Oh, shit.

Osamu vaguely remembers Atsumu asking if they were dating weeks ago. And that he told him no. He also remembers that he hadn't told Atsumu anything changed after he figured out that he and Suna were in fact dating.

Oops.

"What the hell, Samu?!" Atsumu explodes, voice echoing through the whole house. "I knew ya lied about not datin' him when I asked!"

"When ya asked, we weren't datin' yet!"

"And how long after I asked did it take ya to get yer shit together?"

Osamu thinks. Hard.

Today is Saturday. Technically, he overheard Suna talking to Aran in the club room on Tuesday, so that would've been the first time he thought the word boyfriend. So maybe that's the day it started? But the thing that they'd been doing that made Aran think they were boyfriends had been going on for weeks before that. So does that mean they've been dating since before training camp? They didn't talk about it together until today, but that feels way too late. Should he just pick a random day in the middle and say that's when it started? Split the difference?

"Just … after."

Atsumu looks at him like he's an idiot.

"I don't know when we started datin', ok!" Osamu says defensively.

"What do ya mean ya don't know when ya started datin'!"

"It just kinda happened."

Now Atsumu turns his gaze to Suna. It's caught somewhere between can you believe this guy and he's your boyfriend, do something about this.

Suna shrugs. "That basically sums it up."

There are several long seconds of silence where Atsumu looks between the two of them in absolute bewilderment. Eventually, he realizes that neither of them particularly mind the nebulous start of things and crosses his arms over his chest in frustration.

"Well, the two of ya sure were made for each other."

Suna leans in closer to Osamu, giving him a look through half lidded eyes. "Yeah, I think we are."

The sincerity in his voice makes Osamu blush.

"Gross! No flirtin' in my house!"

"'s my house too!"

"My house three," Suna says. "And I say that Osamu and I can flirt in the kitchen, so I guess you're outnumbered."

"You don't live here, Sunarin!"

"Wow, so you're being rude to a guest?" Suna pulls out his phone, his thumbs already moving across the screen. "Your mom's gonna hate to hear about this."

Atsumu snatches Suna's phone out of his hand. Suna immediately responds by tackling him to the ground, the two of them wrestling over the device.

It's so stupid. Like, truly one of the dumbest things he's ever had to watch.

Osamu can't remember a time he's laughed harder.

/////

"Your mom's gonna figure out we're dating sooner or later, you know." Suna says after watching Osamu press end on a call to his mom, where he almost slipped up and called Suna his boyfriend no less than three times. "I don't think she'll mind or anything. She took Atsumu being bi well, so it'd be weird if she was homophobic to just you."

"I know she'll take fine, but she'll stop lettin' ya sleep over if she finds out we're datin'."

Suna gasps like he's been scandalized.

"My, my, Miya Osamu. How forward. Trying to get me into bed right under your poor mother's nose."

"Shut up!" Osamu shoves him. "Ya'd never make it to mornin' practice if ya didn't have me as your human alarm clock. This is for yer own good."

Osamu and Suna have been dating for about three months.

Or, it's been about three months since that day they went to the farmer's market and Atsumu interrupted him cooking lunch for Suna. They definitely started dating before then, but Atsumu loudly declares that as the day it started to all their friends, because that version makes Atsumu the first person they told they were dating. Osamu and Suna don't mind, so they let him. Plus, it turned out to be a great bargaining chip in their continued efforts to convince Atsumu to not snitch about him and Suna to their mom.

They're in the thick of summer now. The days are long and hot, but the nights feel like they go on forever. Osamu isn't sure what life has in store for them after graduation, but in these moments before all those big decisions and changes, his days are filled with little mundanities he knows he'll spend the rest of his life looking back fondly on.

Walking to school. Passing notes during class. Sharing his lunch. Playing volleyball. Staying up too late playing video games. All of it with Suna by his side.

What could be better than that?

They're gearing up for another such night. They stopped at the konbini on their way home from practice and have every snack imaginable in their bags. Suna sets up camp in the living room while Osamu makes dinner. Even when they aren't saying anything, just knowing that Suna's in the other room scrolling on his phone is comforting to him.

Osamu brings a bowl of fresh udon to the couch for each of them. Suna brings the first bite to his lips and smiles. "I really did myself a favor, dating a chef."

Osamu smiles back.

They're driving a pickup truck off a bridge in GTA when Atsumu finally gets home after staying late to work on his jump float serve.

"Hey, losers," he calls from the genken.

"'Sup, scrub," Osamu calls back.

He can hear Atsumu walking around behind him, putting his bag away and making himself a bowl of udon with the extras Osamu left in the kitchen. He sits down on the floor in front of the couch around the same time that Suna congratulates Osamu on completing their mission with a kiss.

"If the two of ya start doin' anything gross, I'm snitchin'."

Suna throws a couch cushion at him. Atsumu spills his udon everywhere and steals Suna's as payback.

All in all, a standard issue Friday night.

Their mom comes home from her shift around eleven. At the sound of her arrival, the three of them call over their shoulder, "Hey, Momma."

"Hey, boys."

She kisses each of them on top of their head, first Suna, then Osamu, then Atsumu, as she walks through the living room towards the kitchen.

"Don't stay up too late you three," she says around around a mouthful of udon. "Ya've got practice early tomorrow."

Her words are met with a chorus of, "Yes ma'am."

"Rintarou, if they start botherin' ya or keepin' ya up late, feel free to kick 'em out."

"Tsumu, you heard her, time to pack it up."

"What! I ain't even doin' anything!"

"Your chewing sounds were bothering me."

Atsumu rears his arm back like he's gonna swing on him, then remembers that Mom's watching

"I'll try 'not to chew quieter," he grumbles.

His mom and Suna share a knowing look at Atsumu's expense and she leaves the three of them to their own devices not long after. Atsumu follows suit not too long after, deciding he'd rather lay in bed than watch Osamu fuck up the same mission another time.

(Which, rude. It's not his fault that video games are hard.)

Osamu and Suna take turns running missions. Passing the remote back and forth across the couch. Their legs are tangled together under a blanket they share, the weight of Suna by his side soothing.

Exhaustion starts to get to him. Moonlight streams in through the living room window, but he refuses to check what time it is. He's certain it's late, but knowing that for sure would only make him want to be the one to call it a night, and he doesn't want this to end yet.

His body has different ideas though. The yawns he used to be able to stifle start to cluster together. Becoming harder to ignore. His driving's getting worse too. The car drifting and stopping in places it isn't supposed to. His eyelids feel heavy.

But he doesn't want this to end. He needs to stay awake. Needs to keep his mind active for just a little while longer so he doesn't fall asleep.

"Would y'ever wanna go on a road trip together?"

Osamu's avatar drives its car directly into oncoming traffic and gets T-bone'd by a semi.

"As long as you're not the one driving."

"'m serious." Osamu yawns. "We could go once school's out. Drive out to … t'a beach or somethin'. Go surfin' …"

"Osamu."

"Or campin'. Campin's good too … 's got mountains … 'n, 'n stars. Maybe we'll go campin'."

"Osamu."

The cushions of the couch shift beneath him.

"I'on't really care where we end up, 's long … 's long 's I'm with there with ya … I wanna —"

Suna kisses him gently. Cutting off his stubborn words and telling his mind that it's ok to rest now.

"Goodnight, Osamu."

"G'night, Rin." Osamu reaches out blindly until he finds Suna, wrapping an arm around him. "Love ya."

Suna jolts in his arms, like he's been struck by lightening, before he softens. Melting deeper into Osamu's hold.

"I love you too, Samu."

The last thing Osamu remembers before falling asleep is kissing Suna's forehead and being very, very happy.