Work Text:
Another chilly day rolls around in Hyogo Prefecture. A certain middle blocker, better known as Suna Rintarou, has considered maybe, possibly, perhaps, he should skip school for the day because of his... questionable state, but he'd get into a lot of trouble if he did, so he really didn't have a choice. His heavy footsteps---or what should have been heavy with his irregular sleep schedule, they were actually quite light---thumped against the wooden floor of his house. The soft shck of the door sliding against it's frame was very faint, but it still put the brunette on edge. Standing very still and sure to make no noise, he slipped out his room and hurried to squeeze his way through the front door. He casts a worried glance back, but heads on the path to the high school.
No, he sighs, quickly tip-toeing into the kitchen and making a sandwich, placing it onto a white ceramic plate in front of the upper left chair at the dining table. A sticky note is attached.
Finally, he makes it out completely, the time clocking at a less than acceptable 7:33. The pavement is old and cracked, and Suna wishes they would already fix it, but he knew they would never. They're too busy, or lazy rather, and that's understandable but it doesn't make his mind change at all. He kicks a rock while walking, watching it fall into a crevice. He doesn't bother with it and continues trudging to school, the scenery around him looking quite boring as usual.
He finally arrives and walks through the gates and to his classroom, his back slouched over, too scared to have any type of contact with it besides his clothing. He sits alone despite knowing a few people in his class, but it's only because they share the same club or another class together. Growing tired of the chatter around him, he gets up and goes to a nearby vending machine. The stupid vending machine that never works...why does he do this to himself. Hopefully it'll dispense his drink on time. He pokes a few coins in and the machine whrrs but nothing comes out. GOD FUCKING DAMMNIT. Suna kicks the annoying scrap of metal lightly multiple times, and it's almost surprising how no one is seeing him do this. Of course from the outside he looks way more calm. Finally, the bottle of desired water fell out at the bottom and he scooped it up into his hand. Uncapping it, he drank a bit, lowering the water level in the shiny plastic.
Checking multiple times to see if anyone was watching, he pulls down his tie to uncover his collared button up shirt to reveal his collarbone riddled with red marks and tiny scratches. He pulls out a handkerchief and pours a bit of water on it before dabbing the almost bleeding scars. His finger traces over the embroidered stitching of his name on the fabric that his sister did for him in his first year of high school. He snaps out of his memories to check the time on a nearby clock before buttoning up his shirt and fixing his tie, accidentally dropping the handkerchief with tiny dots of blood on it. He turns back towards the classroom only to see his classmate, his club mate, Miya Osamu walking out, but didn't take any notice to him. They just crossed paths as they switched locations. Nothing of note Suna notes. He sat back down in his seat, his bad posture and the...hits from last night not allowing him to comfortably put his back on the back of the seat---not that he had good posture to start with anyway. He then tunes himself out from the world around him and waits for the day to pass by.
The afternoon break comes around and Suna sits only at his desk per usual. He expected it to a normal day, his fingers tracing the crevices in the wood aimlessly, but today had the tiniest of twists to it.
He hears footsteps approach closer, and Suna dearly hopes it will just pass but it doesn't. He's sure lucky.
A voice broke out into the silence of his mind like a cold breath of air.
"Is this yours? I saw it at the vending machine this morning...and I just assumed..." Miya Osamu stands in front of his teammates desk with his hand out holding the customized handkerchief. Now his name is mind-your-own-business Osamu!! Not Suna's fault he's named that. His parents gave it to him.
"It's..." Suna knew how important it was to him, but didn't want to claim it because that would be plain pathetic, dropping it and having to have someone give it back. He's not some girl in a dumb shoujo manga like the ones his sister reads. Well---maybe they're not that dumb but that's besides the point.
"It's not mine." He answers coldly, maybe a bit more colder than he intended.
"Oh. If you say so." The gray-haired male deadpans, seems to be his only noticeable trait. He goes back to his usual schedule, stuffing it in his pocket as if saving it for later. Suna brings his eyes back down to his desk, but his focus is in entirely in his head. Cursing and degrading himself for making a simple mistake, he wonders how he will ever manage to get it back. For the rest of the day that's all he thought about up until practice when he saw Osamu again. Not that he was thinking about Osamu the whole day---even if hypothetically he was, it isn't his fault.
Suna held a familiar feeling of his chest tightening as if he was about to get hit again, the muscles in his body tensing up at any slight movement. It was practice and this made it especially hellish, and the glances he got from everyone else didn't make him feel any better. What did they want him to say? That he was fine? No.
He then waited for everyone to leave the club room, only to close himself in it, shaking on the floor. Why was his life so hard? He just wanted his sister and him to be happy together...why did shitty parents exist? He was so tired of coming home just to be told how worthless he is. His eyes are too dry to even form any tears, but he wanted them to badly, maybe then he would find some closure. A wave of worry and an unknown, but negative feeling had crashed, drowning and pulling him away from reality, but it was worse than reality for once. His body pressed against the door, irritating the bruises and scratches from last night on his back. He hissed in pain as his mouth opened to try for a scream out to something, but nothing came out. His voice wasn't used to being loud, or talking even. Just reading a paragraph out loud in class made his throat feel awful, so how would screaming even help? It'd just make it way worse. Maybe it was better that he couldn't. His hands wrapped around his throat and started tightening themselves, as if he couldn't control his own body. What was he even doing? It hurt but..did it really? He felt kind of numb. Maybe it would be better if he just...left. Then his parents wouldn't have to deal with him anymore and could focus on his sister that wasn't a screw up. Tears finally formed in his worn out gold orbs as he almost lost his consciousness from air loss, dots appearing in his vision, but his hands moved to his brown hair, balling it into tangled tufts. His chest heaved up and down rapidly as he slowly tried to regain his breath. He gripped his shoulders in a desperate attempt to comfort himself, only to completely and utterly fail. He tugged his shirt off in a desperate panic, not caring about any of his old scars as he dragged his nails from his upper back to the front of his shoulders. Scratching and scratching more scars onto his skin in an attempt to...just to feel something.
And it was right there, right then, where he was in his most vulnerable state, most pathetic state, most pitiful state that someone burst open the door and Suna fell over onto his knees. Osamu Miya stood at the door, hand stuck on the handle in what was probably shock and concern. Suna scrambled to flip over stare back at the new person. Wait---this wasn't supposed to happen. Didn't he lock the door? What the hell? How should he react? Should he even react? Suna couldn't hear it but all he could tell was that the younger of the Miya twins was calling out for him. His vision grew blurry, clouded, and dark--- the only warmth he could feel was the blood dripping down his back and arms before everything went black.
It was all a blur but soon enough, he woke up, but found that he was still in the locker room. He attempted to stand up, but his injuries restricted him from doing so and he was stuck sitting down. He then felt a hand gingerly touch the top of his shoulder, which startled him, and he tried to move away from the source as soon as possible only to find out it was just Osamu. Yeah, not like he was the guy who saw what he shouldn't have.
Suna's eyes widened in fear and startlement---pushing his classmates body away from his. They both look at each other, trying to comprehend the whole situation. He blinks. Osamu blinks. Suna wants to hide his face but then loe and behold, the other person in the room, Osamu, he starts talking again. Great.
"Hey...you're Suna right? We're in the same class," Osamu spoke as if Suna wasn't just covered in scratches and dry blood. Maybe it was to make the slightly taller feel better...but could Suna ever be sure? He just wanted to leave. He just wanted to forget this happen. For someone--- no other than someone he would have to see everyday, to see him in such a pitiful state. He wanted to scream, but he knows better not to. Not that he could even if he wanted to. Why did this happen? Sure, life isn't too good at home but he was getting by!
Although it sure didn't seem like that before... but!!
He didn't need anyone's help---nevertheless any from one of the Miya twins. Suna knows they're nothing but trouble which is why he always stays away in practices, only talking when he has too and staying completely quiet the rest---even when his whole body was covered in bruises, even with all the cuts, even with---
"Hey." Osamu interjects, pulling Suna out of his thoughts with a more stern tone. "You're hurt. I'm going to help you..." He begins to pull something out from a bag laid next to his leg. Oh no. Suna can't move. He can't leave. He can't go. This was agonizing---pure hell. Why was Osamu here again? He was sure he didn't have any reason and even if he did it wouldn't be valid.
"I don't need your help." Suna furrows his brows, but he is so close to crying.
"You clearly do," Osamu stated, face blank, as he brought out a wet cotton ball that Suna could only assume was to disinfect his fresh wounds, but that would hurt and he really didn't need that. Trying to scoot away, he hisses in pain, and Osamu gives him a disappointed look, or, if you could even say his face changed at all.
"No I---ouch!" Suna yelped, the stinging sensation burning as the alcohol touched his cuts. It hurt, and now Suna was sure his eyes were tearing up so he tore his gaze away in an effort to not humiliate himself further.
"Stay still," Osamu sighed, dabbing it on every cut he could see. Suna held his breath, trying not to let out any more sounds. (A/N: i know what you all are thinking and i hate it here - Milky)
"F-fine," The brunette tried to grit through the pain, wincing every here and there but soon enough, the job was finished. Osamu began to get up, packing all the supplies away and throwing the used cotton out. Suna sent a glare over, but instead of an expected snarky comment in response, a hand was outstretched in front of him.
"here, you can't get up on your own."
"...No way," Suna took his hand anyway, getting on his wobbly feet, swaying to the sides for a few seconds. Ah...his balance was off. Not to mention his wounds still stung because this gray-haired guy had the audacity to clean his cuts but not even cover them. During drills he would most definitely make an effort to 'accidentally' hit a spike that would just so happen to land on a certain twin's head. The only way he was even standing in the first place was because of the other, so maybe the volleyball hit would be lighter. Maybe.
"C'mon."
"W-what? What are you doing...Let go of my hand," And now Osamu was opening the door of the club room, tugging Suna along to do god knows what---oh no! Was he going to have to see Atsumu? FUCK NO! Osamu was always the more tolerable twin in his eyes although that was quickly changing by the sheer moment.
"Your house."
"You know where I live?" Suna raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. They hadn't even really spoke to each other before this---wait! What is Osamu was some creepy stalker? Although, that seemed more down Atsumu's alley.
"...No. Where do you live?"
"...Seriously?"
"I'm going to walk you home. Tell me where you live," Suna frowned at Osamu's words. What. He's not going to tell him where he lives---but the grip on his wrist is strong enough that his tired body doesn't have enough energy to protest, or run away. Of course.
"No way," Suna grumbles, but then Osamu completely tugs his arm so he stumbles forward and now they're walking beside each other. Why are they still holding hands? It's clear Suna can't run away.
"Then you're coming to my house," Osamu declares bluntly, turning to look at Suna with the faintest smirk. The Miyas really are annoying.
"Fine,"
"Fine what?"
"I'll show you my house, fine." Honestly, Suna just really didn't want to deal with the two brothers doing stupid things and possibly dragging him into it and he sincerely didn't need that right now. And his sister was probably home already.
"Good," Osamu shoots him something---could it be called it a smile? The corners of his lips tug upwards and why was Suna even paying attention to things like that? No reason. None! Nope. Anyway. He groaned lightly in defeat, begrudgingly leading the annoying Miya to his house which was quite the distance.
"You walk this everyday?"
"Mhm,"
"Huh..." Suna ignored him, stopping in front of his house.
"Leave me alone now," the brunette deadpanned, tearing his hand away at last. It felt disturbing to hold a guy's hand for that long, but it also...kind of...felt---well his hand is just cold now but when are they not really?
"Wait," Osamu calls out, forcing Suna to turn around and look at him again. What could the guy possibly want? He already had the absolute luxury of cleaning Rin's wounds, what more is to life? And then something hits his face.
"Hey..." Suna's eye twitched in annoyance, clawing at whatever is obscuring his vision, and lo and behold, it was the handkerchief he'd said wasn't his this morning. Wait...He blinked a couple of times, rubbing his eyes. Was it---It really was his.
"It has your name on it." The taller snapped up to look at the male who'd returned this precious object, maybe to say thanks, maybe to just stare, but no one was there. Suna didn't take him as someone who moved fast...but you never know. Of course it had his own name on it, what was he, a dumbass? How could he even think of saying it wasn't his when it so obviously wasn't? Why would Osamu even bother returning it?
Brushing that aside, he clenched his teeth in precaution. Hand settled on the smooth metal of the doorknob, he clicked it open slowly, slipping inside quickly as he tiptoed across the floor to his room.
"Suna Rintarou." His heart stops. "Where do you think you're going?" Silence. The creak of the floorboards halts to a stop itself, as Suna turns on his heel delicately, sure to not slip.
"...Why are you home late? I thought I made it clear that you are to be home as soon as practice ends. Clearly, it's past that." His mother points a finger at the clock, and Rin can only think of how easy it is to stay quiet. Stay quiet. Always quiet. Do what they tell you. Do what makes them the least displeased.
"Your mother asked you a question," His father's ice cold voice broke through Suna's own thoughts, and he began to tremble with fear. No...he hopes it isn't that bad of a day.
"I had to stay behind to clean up," He lied, they can't possibly know that someone witnessed his little...moment or seen all his scars. He would be dead for sure then. The feeling of 2 pairs of eyes watching his every movement, the way his chest rises and falls, the state of his skin, if he even fidgets, disturbs him to the core, filling his whole body with a sense of overwhelming dread.
His mom huffs, but his dad is not convinced.
"Suna Rintarou. My room now." The brunette was now shaking uncontrollably, and he is so desperate he even glances at his mother for any help. any, any, any, any, any, a
"Listen to your father."
Suna glances down the hallway, making eye contact with his little sister who is wearing a distraught expression on her face. It doesn't look good on her.
Suna smiles warmly. He tells her it's fine through lip sync, but with the way he is so close to crying and the way his whole body tremored and wavered, he clearly isn't fine but Suna just wants to see his sister smile once more before he is locked in the room again.
She looks devastated---why does she look like that? Suna wants her to smile. It's okay. Smile. See? Your big brother's smiling. It's fine. His vision is getting blurry...oh is he tearing up? Oh it looks like she's smiling. That's good. And then he's pulled inside that godforsaken hellhole.
His back against the wall, he looks away, eyes glued onto the floor. Incoherent yells and screams are directed at none other than him, but he can't hear them, can't understand the statements thrown around, he just feels empty, eyes dead and mouth drawn into a thin line.
And then he feels a stinging sensation against his cheek. And many more to follow. Suna clenches his teeth, just wanting it to be over already---it should soon anyway. It's not like he's done anything too bad this time, so his father hopefully shouldn't use that.
He's pushed onto a chair and his whole mood changes drastically, eyes widening by the second.
The sound of glass breaking.
He can feel his heart pounding, feel the way his palms begin to become clammy, notice the blood drain from his own face. He knows what's coming, what's inevitable, and he wants it to stop, wants it to end so badly and it hasn't even started yet.
The clinging of something falling to the floor---his father scoffs in annoyance. The hairs on Suna's neck rise in apprehension. The sound of rubber gloves. The sound of Suna's own harsh breathing. Gently, something cold is pressed against his back, making him shiver even more than what would be deemed possible.
"Stay still."
Suna almost cries. But his eyes are too dry. And it doesn't hurt enough. Yet.
Abruptly, the sharp object is slid across his scarred skin, making him wince terribly. He bites his lip to conceal any screams, hard enough to draw a trickle of metallic blood. It tastes better than he'd thought, but maybe he's just trying to distract himself. A few more slashes and his eyes finally form liquid, drops growing at the corners until they become too heavy and eventually roll down his cheeks. They're salty.
"Don't ever come home late ever again."
Suna nods slowly, eyes shut, hands clasping onto each other hard enough to make them grow white. The needle skids across his scar-littered complexion before pushing in at an agonizingly slow pace---hot globs of water streaming down his face stained his cheeks. Stop...make it stop...please...please please please please pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease
Another chilly day rolls around in Hyogo Prefecture. Suna's back stings horribly, but the ringing of the alarm clock is more important. Tapping the top, it halts to a stop, and Suna gets up reluctantly. It's annoying. The air is too cold. The floor is too cold. His hands are too cold. Why were they warm yesterday? He can't remember.
The morning isn't notably different, same thing every morning. Heading to the kitchen, he messily prepares rice balls and places them on a plate with another note, although the paper is blue this time.
Rushing outside, his feet thumped against the concrete, his breathing quickening slowly from the small act of jogging. It makes his cuts hurt more but at least he'll get to school on time. The school's gates up ahead brought some sense of accomplishment, so he slowed to a stop, hands resting on his knees.
"Aren't you cold?" A familiar voice called out, a puff of air escaping their mouth.
"Hm?" Suna looked up, only to stare into deep grey eyes that held purple flecks. Pretty...wait. This was Osamu wasn't it. Not again. His eyes aren't pretty at all.
"What do you want?" the brunette frowned, crossing his arms but the slight pain made him flinch. Osamu raised an eyebrow just the slightest bit---no. He did not just wince. You're seeing things.
"Nothing," The gray-haired male replied blankly, staring at Suna as if he could see right through him. It was uncomfortable under the other's gaze so he decided to take it upon himself to just leave the situation like any normal person would. Honestly, what was his deal? He should keep his warm rough hands to himself. Not that it meant anything.
"Okay," Suna shrugged, walking past---or that was what he was trying to do before someone rudely grabbed his hand again. The action made his heart flutter strangely, and he decided right then and there that 1.) whatever that was needed to go the fuck away, and 2.) he needed to avoid Miya Annoyingmu at all costs.
"What. is. it. now." Seriously, what does he want? Can't be anything good. At this point hanging out with Atsumu would be---
"Are you okay?" The words cut through his own though process sharply. Suna blinks.
"Yes."
Silence. A prolonged look. Could Osamu quit it already?
"Sure," And then he finally left which made Suna pleased, but there was also another underlying harder to detect emotion that he didn't notice. Maybe.
The bell rings, signaling the start of class, signaling the time for Suna to tune everything out again. It's been a while and now he is just so close to falling asleep and passing out on his desk, literally one step away, when something is dropped onto his wooden desk---it sounds like some kind of treat.
"Here," Of-fucking-course it's Osamu. Always. When is it not this guy? He wouldn't be surprised if he suddenly woke up and this guy's face was the first thing he saw. Wait---
"What's this for?"
"For you, duh," Suna furrows his brows, turning to glance at the strange object settled on top, but then he realizes it's a Chuppet ice pop. Chuppet ice pops...probably one of the only good things mankind has brought forth. He snatches it, and checks the clock. The bell should ring any moment now. Oh. He should probably thank him, even if he is super annoying. Or not. Suna decides not to, but a glance in the other's direction should be thanks enough, right? Wait---where'd he go? Was he some kind of ghost? Appearing only to annoy the shit out of him? The bell rings.
It's been a few days. Why does he keep giving Suna things? What's his motive? No reason probably. Maybe he just wants to embarrass and humiliate him. Getting cute gifts from a guy to another guy? That's just so wrong. Suna shakes his head.
Suna hates Miya Annoyingmu. A.K.A. Miya Osamu, but the title fits both twins respectively. He hates him. Hates how he works so well with his brother. Hates how he bought him the ice pops that one day. Hates his stupid face. Hates how he always shows up out of nowhere at wherever Suna happens to be at the moment. Hates how he makes his heart beat faster than usual. Hates it. What even is this? Suna hates it. Hates hates hates it. That's how much he hates it. Oh, he's supposed to be practicing his spikes again. He better go do that.
It's now after practice, and this time Rintarou doesn't make the mistake of staying behind when he thinks everyone has gone home. But he's stopped once more. Guess who. Yup. By now, Suna is tired of this. It's become a routine. Somehow. Osamu stops him from leaving, they chat a bit, he's given food for some reason, Atsumu gives him a stupid look, and repeat. But it seems a little different today. Maybe the air.
"Hey, Suna," He starts, and Suna shoots him a glare. Osamu stops. Just leave him alone!! He had an especially bad day yesterday, he needs to check his wounds. It stings everywhere, you know. Not that he knows though.
"Hey," Suna brushes past him, walking, his steps slowly picking up the pace before he is in a full-on sprint.
"Hey! SunaRin!" He chokes. What the fuck. Unfair. A nickname? Really?
"What did you just call me..."
"SunaRin. Do you like it?" Osamu deadpans, although Suna is 99% sure that he is smirking.
"No. Bye." He starts to walk off.
"Hey. I wanted to show you something."
"What." Twin number 2 pulls out his phone. Yes, he has demoted Osamu in his mind.
"It's you, look," Osamu shows Suna a picture of a particular fox. It's kind of cute. In a stupid way. In a mind your own business way. He supposes they share similar traits. Wait---did Osamu seriously look at the picture and go 'yeah that's Suna.' as if he's been thinking about him all day? He doesn't say anything, although the thought that Osamu was thinking about h-
"Want to get something to eat?" What. He can't. He'll get in trouble. Right? He checks his phone---it might come off as rude, but Suna is actually considering it and that's...It's friday. His parents will be home later today...about 7 pm. That gives him about 3 hours.
"Fine,"
"That's a yes?"
"No," It's a yes. Why is he doing this? Why risk his entire life for this...whatever he is?
"Let's go," Osamu tugs at Suna's hands once more, warming his cold fingers, and also his face for some odd reason. Maybe that's why. Maybe because Suna would make him his official hand warmer. Why are Miya's hands always so warm? Rin wants to keep holding them.
They arrive and walk into the store, Osamu finally letting go of the taller's hand. Suna is left with an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach, and his palm as well. More than usual. He ignores. Or at least tries to.
"You brought me here? So fancy," Suna rolls his gold orbs, but he is already down an aisle, checking out what they have.
"You say that..." Osamu doesn't have to say more, Suna shoots him a tiny glare, telling him not to say another word. He shuts up thankfully. Osamu doesn't talk that much though, right? Kind of like himself...Maybe they have more in common than he thought. Not that he wants to get to know the other more. Nah...that'd be a waste of his precious time away from home. But here he was anyway---
The brunette's hands thumbs over a few boxes, before stopping at a long red one. He picks it up and rolls it around in his taped hands gently.
"Pocky?"
"Duh, what else could it be?" Suna snickers.
"Do you want it?"
"Nah," He lies, placing it back down before continuing his browsing. It seemed awful carefree---and he can't help but feel like something bad will happen. Will it? Honestly, it wouldn't be surprising...what's it like not having to worry about everything you do all the time? To be able to go to stores like this without having to be back in a few minutes? To have casual outings with friends? Wait. Osamu and him aren't friends. To have casual outings with other people?
It's getting later. Suna has decided nothing here is good enough for him to buy with the money he pretends he has!! How fun. Osamu has something in a little bag so he is forced to wait for him to pay for it. The gray-haired male told him not to look so Suna is very curious although he wouldn't admit it ever. His back faces the other male.
"What's in there?"
"Nothing."
"...mhm. And that's why you're paying for it?"
"Sure." Suna's eye twitches. Is it that hard to just tell him what the mystery item is? It's almost time to head home too...
"Kay. Let's get you home now." Damnit... He'd forgotten that he knows where he lives.
"You're going to walk me home? What a gentleman," Suna scoffs, but his legs feel weak, and it's cold, and his hands sting and his back hurts and his whole body throbs painfully and
"Yup. No objections," A bag is thrust into his arms, forcing him to try to catch it as it almost falls.
"What."
"It's for you. Check inside. Or don't. Whatever you want," Of course he's going to check. So he does. Crinkling the sides of the plastic bag, he pulls out the single item at the bottom. It's the Pocky from earlier. Hey...
"Why?" There has to be an ulterior motive.
"hm?"
"Why." has to be.
"Do I need a reason to give you that?"
"Why." Suna repeats.
"'Cause you wanted it."
It's a simple thing. A small gift. But it makes Suna's heart swoon with adoration. No, that's not gay. No way. Suna's not gay. Nah. Osamu just...okay. He'd admit it. He and Osamu are kind of friends---that would explain it, right? This new feeling in his chest? It's because he's never had friends before. Must be it. Yeah.
"Okay." Suna looks at the ground, embarrassed. Was he supposed to say thank you? Was he supposed to open it and eat it right now?
"Hey...have you even tried pocky?" Osamu deadpans, completely serious. Of course Suna has! Who hasn't?
"...no," The words come out involuntarily!! He's lying!! He's obviously tried it before.
"Then...how about...I teach you how to eat it?" Huh? There's a certain way to eat it?
"What do you mean," Osamu steps closer, and Suna freezes. What the hell was even happening? Was he supposed to stop it? He didn't even know what he was supposed to stop!
"Just say no if you...change your mind," What. What. What. What. Say no? What was he even saying? He's pressed up against the wall now, hands trembling. Was the box even open?
"I'll get it for you," He still wears a straight face. Deadpan Osamu. Suna's supposed to be deadpan too. Supposed to be.
Look what you've done. Are you happy now?
The sound of cardboard ripping. The sound of wrapping ripping. The sound of something being picked up.
"Open your mouth," Suna obeys. Why does he obey? Is it because he's so used to following orders? Or is it something else? Is it both? Is it because-
A small portion of the cookie is between his teeth, the other larger part is sticking out. This seems like a rather uncomfortable way to eat.
"It's a game."
"A game?" The unbelief in his voice cannot be hidden. Suna curses inwardly.
"...Yes. We both take the ends of the cookies in our mouths..." Suna does not like where this is going. But how can he get out of this situation? This is definitely gay, right? Suna's not gay. It's not right. That's how it's always been.
"And we each take bites...and whoever ends up with the last piece is the winner," Osamu finishes, and now he's so close that what ever in the living fuck he described can take place. Suna would never agree. Outrageous.
"Okay."
It's a little strange. Suna knows how this will end. He's smart enough to figure it out. So why did he say okay like an absolute idiot? He's. Not. Gay. Is Osamu gay? What even is this? His thoughts are too busy and swarming on the topic of right now, and he doesn't consider what the clock reads.
Suna closes his eyes, face flushing a bright red. He wonders what Osamu looks like right now. Is he taking advantage of the ordeal? Is he as straight-faced as ever? His heart hurts. He hopes that isn't the case. He hopes Osamu is just as nervous as he is, hopes that his face is burning like his, hopes that his heart is as fast as his, hopes that-
Hopes?
"You can still say no."
Silence. A hand snakes it's way up to cup his cheek.
Soft. It's soft. Lips. Lips pressed against his. Warm. It's warm. Isn't it cold out? Why is it warm? Wait. Osamu. Him. Osamu and him. Osamu and him kissing. Suna Rintarou kissing Miya Osamu. I'm kissing him, his mind calls.
That's wrong, another part echoes. It's not right.
So why does it feel so right?
It feels like the whole world has slowed down...just for them.
"SunaRin..." A voice calls, but it's not his own, or his mind. The voice is smooth like honey, tantalizing.
"Rintarou," A shiver goes up his back. He's too focused on the moment that he lets go of his thoughts just for a moment.
"Osamu," His mouth is moving on his own. Osamu. Osamu. Osamu. Osamu?
He pulls back as fast as he can.
This isnt right. It isn't right. He isn't supposed to kiss him. He isn't supposed to like him---is that what this is? Oh no. His parents will actually kill him if they find out. His parents. His parents. Oh god. What time is it? What time is it? Whattimeisitwhattimeisitwhattimeis
"Rin?"
"Leave me alone,"
"Rin."
"Don't call me that."
"...Suna."
"Goodbye."
He runs. His legs carry him wherever, he doesn't know where he's going to be honest. Just somewhere away from Osamu. He needs to get away. Far away from him. He's dangerous. He's known this. He should have been more careful.
"Suna."
He keeps running, puffs of air escape his mouth as he tries desperately to keep a steady breathing pattern.
"Suna!"
He can't do anything. There isn't anything more to do. He's fucked it all up. It's all ending. If it's ending, he wants to see his sister. He wants to apologize. He rounds the corner.
"RINTAROU!!!!"
Suna whips around. No! He wasn't supposed to do that! But with how Osamu has called his given name with such a desperate hurt tone, how can he not?
Osamu has yelled his name. Osamu who never yells.
"Rintarou." His legs are weak, he can't run. Can't walk. Can't stand. He falls onto his knees.
"Rintarou..." A hand touches his cheek. He slaps it away.
"Don't touch me."
"...okay."
"leave me alone. Why won't you leave me alone...can't you tell? Can't you tell that all I do is cause awful things to happen? CAN'T YOU TELL?" His eyes water, vision blurring, his voice sounds horrible. But he can't help it, the words keep spilling out.
"I'm nothing good. Not special at all. Why do you keep giving me gifts? Why do you always talk to me? Why do you still hang around? WHY HAVEN'T YOU LEFT ALREADY!?" Suna cries out, he doesn't bother trying to stop it anymore. He's humiliated, breaking down in front of someone, a guy, a guy he kissed. A guy who he likes who he's not supposed to like.
"SOON I'LL COME HOME AND I'LL BE BEAT! AND IT'LL ALL BE YOUR FAULT!" It's not Osamu's fault. Suna knows this. He knows this very well.
"Rintarou..."
"Stop it...Stop it! STOP TALKING TO ME IN THAT GENTLE TONE! SAVE IT FOR SOMEONE ELSE!" He's a mess right now. His hair is messy, he has heavy eye bags, his hands are all damaged and bandaged, don't even mention the rest of his body.
"It's my fault...all my fault..." He sniffles, wiping his nose and eyes with his sleeves, but the tears won't stop.
"I h-hate you...I hate that I like you...I hate that I'm blaming you...I hate your handsome face...your pretty eyes...the way you make my heart flutter...the way I---" He chokes, unable to bring himself to look up from the ground.
"I don't d-deserve your company..." His voice cracks, and now he can't say anything more.
" I love you."
"W-what?"
"I love you."
He's got be kidding right? No time for jokes. Seriously. Suna stares at him, but now he's finally facing Osamu.
Don't say that to me when you look like that. Don't tell me those words. Don't give me hope.
"I love you," His hand is being lifted. Soft lips are pressed against his knuckles. His ugly ugly hands. No. Don't do that...
"I love you..." Osamu's other hand traces Suna's face, wiping his tears lovingly with his thumb.
I don't deserve you, Suna wants to say. But he can't bring himself to. Not when he's looking at Suna like he's more than anyone could want. Not when he's looking at him like he sees the world. Not when he's looking at him so gently with those eyes.
"I love you Rin..." He whispers, tipping Suna's chin up so he's forced to stare into those purple grey orbs.
"You have such pretty eyes..." Osamu smiles. Smiles. Smiles. Osamu smiling. Suna's breath hitches. The gray-haired male closes his eyes, prompting Suna to do the same. His own eyes flutter shut tightly, and a soft pressure is felt on his mouth, but it lasts for only a second. He opens his eyes.
"I want to help you," Osamu states. Suna sniffles. How could he help him? It's all over now. He picks up the brunette's hand again. Osamu looks sad. Suna hates it.
"Why didn't you get help?"
"I couldn't, even if I wanted to."
Silence.
"Stay at my place tonight."
"You mean yours and Atsumu's."
"I'll kick him out," Suna laughs for once, laughs. Osamu's eyes widen. His face flushes, and his mouth opens, but no words come out. Suna looks at him funny.
"I like your laugh," Suna melts. He can't just say things like that. His lip quivers.
"Shut up," He leans his head onto Osamu's shoulder.
"Is that a yes?"
"What do you think?"