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It starts in Aran’s apartment, too hot and too small for so many of them. Rintarou hadn’t drank in a while with the season underway, but now that it was over, Atsumu was more than eager to get his friends drunk before they headed out for the night.
“You’re so red, Rin,” Osamu chuckles, grazing his knuckles against Rintarou’s cheek to feel warmed skin. Rintarou feels his lips spreading in a slow grin that Osamu laughs at again. His friend nurses a beer, offering a sip that Rintarou takes.
“Thanks,” he murmurs, handing the bottle back. His hand lingers against Osamu’s, too inebriated for any of his limbs to move quickly.
He watches the amused look on his best friend’s face, not entirely as familiar as it should be. They video call often, but they haven’t seen each other in person in a while. It’s different seeing him here than on a phone screen.
Without thinking, Rintarou reaches up and flattens his palm against Osamu’s face before tracing his fingers along his brow bone and down the slope of his nose.
“Ya miss me?” Osamu snorts, jolting Rintarou a little. He hadn’t realized how close their faces had gotten. He frowns before flicking his friend square on the forehead. Osamu makes a funny noise that Rintarou chuckles at.
“No,” he lies, stepping out of Osamu’s space. He looks like he’s about to argue, so Rintarou deliberately turns around to call for Atsumu, hiding his amused smile when Osamu inevitably huffs at him.
Their group eventually makes their way to the club, rowdy and louder than they should be. Osamu sticks by him quietly like he usually does, an arm slung around his shoulders and sharing a look when Atsumu says something stupid.
It’s a busy Friday night and almost impossible to stick together as a group on the dance floor. Bodies come between them until Rintarou finds himself alone with Osamu, lights flashing over the disbelief on the other man’s face.
“What the hell is everyone in Tokyo doin’ here tonight?” Osamu yells over the music. Rintarou laughs, letting himself get shoved around by the people around them. His chest bumps against Osamu’s and practically stays there when the crowding doesn’t let up.
“Maybe it’s us,” he calls back. “Tokyo wasn’t ready for a former high school volleyball team from Hyogo.”
He feels Osamu’s chest when he laughs more than he hears it over the thumping bass. A warmth spreads through him, and it would be more confusing if he wasn’t so drunk. It only makes him revel in it more, liking the way it clouds his thoughts.
Rintarou’s eyes trace Osamu’s face the way his fingers did earlier, cataloguing the features he’s known for so long now. Osamu’s grown well into himself, newly dark hair flashing blue and red under the club lights. He notices Osamu’s eyes on him too and catches it when his gaze drops to his lips. His heart thunders in his ears, almost rivaling the song’s beat.
He doesn’t like dancing that much, but he likes how it feels to sway when the room catches up to you a second later. His limbs are loose when he reaches for one of Osamu’s belt loops to pull their bodies flush against each other. He notes the way Osamu falls forward so easily, arms wrapping around Rintarou’s waist like it’s normal for them to do this.
Rintarou’s other hand goes up to Osamu’s jaw, cupping it as he keeps studying his face. He really is as handsome as everyone claims he is, Rintarou realizes. He wonders if he noticed it before or if this really is the first time he’s truly considered it. He did always think Osamu was the better looking twin, though.
“Ya really think so?” Osamu asks. Rintarou didn’t know he spoke out loud. Can’t even remember it. But it makes Osamu lean closer and brush his lips over his teasingly. It’s charming. It’s clearly an invitation.
Something stirs inside Rintarou and the sudden urge to take all of what Osamu can offer is overwhelming. He isn’t thinking at all when he surges forward and kisses Osamu.
It’s practically bruising. It’s messy and desperate right from the start. So dizzying that Rintarou doesn’t even have the capacity to process that he’s kissing his best friend since high school. Even if he could, he doesn’t care because it feels so good.
One of Osamu’s hands tangles into his shirt, lifting the fabric enough to graze his fingers against his skin. The other travels to his hair and tugs him into an angle so perfect, Rintarou can’t help but let out a moan. Osamu tastes like liquor and some kind of candy he probably sucked on during the walk to the club. Rintarou seeks it out, sliding his tongue along Osamu’s for more.
Rintarou uses his fingers hooked around Osamu’s belt loop to pull him in for a dirty grind. He relishes in the groan Osamu lets out, an almost growl that gets Rintarou harder in his jeans.
“We have to get out of here,” Osamu pants against his lips and Rintarou is more than inclined to agree.
He feels Osamu’s own bulge pressing on his crotch and loses his last bit of control when he cups him and mutters, “Yeah. So you can put this in me.”
Osamu blinks at him, a bit dazed before he wildly grins in agreement. “Yeah. Hell yeah.”
He plants one more chaste kiss to Rintarou’s lips before leading him out of the club. It’s all very amusing to Rintarou, completely disregarding how bad of a decision this might be as he follows Osamu. Especially when he catches sight of Atsumu and Aran across the club chatting with the bartender, looking away before they can see him, too.
They squeeze their way through the crowd before the cool night air hits them in the face. The smell of cigarettes makes Rintarou’s nose wrinkle, feet following along as Osamu takes his hand and guides them away. They’re breaking into a jog before he knows it.
He looks down at their joined hands and listens as the sound of their shoes slapping the pavement grows louder than the music from the club. Suddenly, something bubbles up in Rintarou’s chest and he’s laughing, loose and unbidden.
Osamu looks back at him, grinning already before he follows suit in his laughter. It stops them from running, leaving them to look like two fools giggling on the street.
“Dude,” Rintarou says as he tries to calm down. “Where are we going?”
Osamu snorts. “No idea. No way we’re goin’ back to Aran’s though.”
They stare at each other for a moment before Rintarou suggests, “Hotel?”
The other man gives him a knowing look that makes Rintarou’s stomach twist into knots, all too aware of his hand in Osamu’s when he tugs him to start walking again.
As soon as they’re in their room, neither of them waste much time before they’re all over each other. Osamu kisses like he’s hungry, more heated than in the club with no eyes watching. He sucks on Rintarou’s tongue and Rintarou lets him, tangling his fingers in Osamu’s hair to pull him closer.
Shoes get taken off and kicked haphazardly as they cross the room to the bed and Osamu’s hands get braver as they travel up Rintarou’s shirt. The way his hands skate up his sides and squeeze his waist has Rintarou gasping, pushing further into Osamu’s touch for more.
They pull back for a second just so Osamu can take Rintarou’s shirt off for him. He can’t return the favour when he gets pushed onto the bed, sitting on his elbows and bouncing a little until Osamu’s fingers against his chest stabilize him.
“Wanna make you feel good,” Osamu murmurs, eyes shining as he crawls over Rintarou. His fingers start trailing down his abdomen before dipping teasingly below his waistband. Rintarou shivers, heart beating louder when Osamu’s fingertips slide a fraction lower before dragging all the way back to his chest. “Can I?”
Rintarou stares at him, a little dumbfounded as he nods. Osamu smiles and kisses him, almost as if he intends to turn him completely into putty before he has his way with him. And Rintarou allows it, sighing quietly in pleasure when Osamu starts mouthing down his neck.
He tilts his head to give him more room, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. He revels in the warmth of Osamu’s tongue against his skin soothing the bruises he sucks into it. Rintarou wonders if he can feel his pulse thrumming when he latches his mouth to it.
He’s too distracted by his lips to realize Osamu’s hand has travelled back to his waistband. Only this time, he undoes his jeans and his fingers go further until he can get a hand around Rintarou.
A wanton moan escapes Rintarou’s throat from the touch. He doesn’t even have the chance to be embarrassed because Osamu pulls back to look at him with a newfound hunger. It makes Rintarou’s skin buzz in anticipation and he doesn’t break eye contact as he rolls his hips, biting his lip at the slightest bit of pressure around his cock.
”Osamu,” he breathes, mostly to break him out of his stupor so he’d get back to work, but also just to test it out. God knows he’ll be saying it a lot tonight.
“Fuck,” Osamu mumbles. “You’re gonna kill me, Rin.”
He leans in for another kiss and Rintarou feels his head spin as he tries to breathe. Osamu pumps his fist around him and swallows the hitch in Rintarou’s breath. When his thumb sweeps over his tip, Rintarou whines low in his throat, feeling Osamu swipe precome down his length as it beads out.
He does it a few more times, devouring the small noises of pleasure Rintarou makes with his kisses. The slide is easier with how wet he’s gotten, arousal growing as Osamu starts to stroke him more deliberately.
It becomes impossible to kiss Osamu back when his rhythm picks up speed, and Rintarou’s practically panting against his lips as he chases his pleasure.
Instead of allowing him, however, Osamu lets go of his cock and Rintarou curses pathetically. He reaches out for Osamu, but he realizes he doesn’t have to pull him back when Osamu lowers himself to his knees.
He stares at him with his hooded gray eyes, pupils blown out as he licks up the side of Rintarou’s cock. Rintarou can only stare back, feeling a little dazed as he slides a hand in Osamu’s hair.
His cheek rests against his inner thigh as he pulls his pants all the way off. Suddenly, Rintarou feels overly exposed, naked while Osamu’s still fully clothed.
“You’re not taking your clothes off,” Rintarou vocalizes, heart doing a strange flip when he sees the tender expression on Osamu’s face. The other man tilts his head to kiss the sensitive skin of his thigh and Rintarou has to swallow a lump in his throat.
“Wanna take care of ya first,” Osamu answers, and Rintarou knows he’s heard his friend say this to him many times throughout the years, just not in the context of sex. “Is that okay?”
Rintarou bites his lip as he nods, not trusting himself to say anything out loud. Osamu smiles at him and continues, placing a hand on the side of his cock before pressing his tongue to the underside. He doesn’t know how Osamu already knows what sets him off, but the way he licks up and sucks gently at the tip drives him crazy.
Rintarou keens, trying to keep still as Osamu repeats the move. His entire body feels like it’s on fire, one hand tangling in the sheets and the other gripping Osamu’s head as he takes him apart.
After a few more licks, Osamu’s jaw falls open slightly and takes more of Rintarou into his mouth. The wet heat of Osamu’s mouth has Rintarou’s head tipping back with a moan, knowing he’s leaking down his throat when Osamu swallows.
When he looks back at him, the sight of Osamu’s wet lash line and hollowed cheeks has Rintarou’s toes curling. He knows that if Osamu starts stroking where his hand is wrapped around the base of his cock, he’ll spill over easily.
And even if the thought of coming in Osamu’s mouth is incredibly appealing, he thinks they both want more than that tonight.
“Osamu,” Rintarou gasps out, tugging the strands between his fingers gently. Osamu pulls off with a pop, lips shiny and cheeks ruddy. Rintarou wonders what he must look like right now. “Thought you were gonna fuck me.”
Osamu very obviously perks up in interest before a smug grin spreads across his face. “What? Can’t handle all this?”
Rintarou snorts at him before falling onto his back and draping an arm over his eyes. “Dude. I’m still drunk as hell. I’m already surprised I can get it up at all.”
He hears Osamu chuckle and feels him leave the space between his legs. His feet pad along the floor to the bathroom to likely rummage through the amenities. Rintarou shivers a little at the loss, but at the sound of Osamu returning and clothes dropping to the floor, he knows he has more coming shortly.
“Are you really that drunk?” Osamu asks as he returns between Rintarou’s legs. His knee makes the mattress dip down and Rintarou lets him lift and spread his thighs.
“Mm,” he hums noncommittally. His head swims so he knows the alcohol is still raging in his system.
“So tomorrow mornin’, are ya gonna regret this?”
Rintarou takes his arm off his face and looks at Osamu pointedly.
“No,” he says. He notices the way Osamu’s shoulders relax minutely, so insignificant that Osamu himself might not have noticed. He adds, “I won’t. I’m not that drunk. But I’m drunk enough to know that I’m coming once and going to sleep.”
At that, Osamu chuckles, leaning forward to nudge their noses together in an oddly sweet gesture. Rintarou idly thinks about the morning after but opts to push it to the side for now when Osamu opens a bottle of lube.
He sits back up to coat his fingers and Rintarou watches with more focus than is probably needed. It feels like he knows them well from playing volleyball together for so many years, from scratching pencils on paper as they did homework, and from watching those hands make countless dishes for everyone to eat.
“Whatcha starin’ at?” Osamu asks, rubbing his fingers together to warm up the gel. Rintarou blinks out of his stupor and stupidly says, “I know your hands.”
Somehow, Osamu seems to understand after a few seconds of processing because he smiles fondly at him. Rintarou feels his cheeks warm, feeling more vulnerable now than when Osamu was kissing him.
Osamu probably senses that, too, because he wiggles his fingers and says, “Well, you’re about to get to know them even better.”
Rintarou makes a face and Osamu laughs, and the bit of tension he felt eases when he backhands Osamu’s shoulder lightly.
“So gross,” he reprimands but he can’t help his smile at Osamu’s mischievous chuckle. He lets himself get kissed deeply again before he feels Osamu’s finger slide over his hole.
He hums into Osamu’s mouth when he circles the ring of muscle and lets it turn into a quiet moan when he pushes one digit in.
“You don’t have to be so gentle,” Rintarou mutters against the other’s lips. Osamu pumps his finger almost shyly, curling up to find that bundle of nerves.
“Oh yeah?” Osamu replies, pressing a little harder and getting braver with his thrusts. “Not gonna come right away if I go too hard?”
He feels his shit-eating grin before he sees it and Rintarou bites Osamu’s bottom lip in retaliation.
“Ow,” Osamu laughs, but his finger doesn’t stop. He adds a second and after he sinks his fingers in a few more times, he curls them just right and deep enough to get Rintarou to see stars.
His back bows when he rubs at the spot and Rintarou has to dig his nails into Osamu’s skin to stop himself from coming too soon. Osamu must know because he can feel the smile he presses into his neck.
“Asshole,” Rintarou hisses. He can’t say much else before he’s cut off by his own groan. Osamu becomes relentless, switching between scissoring his fingers to prep him and teasing his prostate with lingering presses. When he adds a third finger, Rintarou feels his eyes start to water from how hard he’s trying not to completely unravel.
He’s breathless and strung up like a tight coil by the time Osamu finally deems him ready. He feels restless, hole clenching when he slips the digits out and tears open the condom wrapper. Rintarou realizes he’s pretty sober now, evident from the fact that he could hold himself together through all that.
He wonders if Osamu’s sobered up now, even though he’s fumbling with the condom a bit. Rintarou snorts and reaches out to help, his pulse racing when he thinks about what it means for both of them to have sobered up and not tap out yet.
It no longer is a drunken desire to sleep with his best friend. Rintarou realizes this as Osamu lays him down gently, attentive and caring like he always is. Has he always wanted this?
“Rin,” Osamu murmurs, his clean hand swiping at Rintarou’s bangs before sliding it down to cup his cheek. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” Rintarou replies breathlessly, trying not to let his recent revelation show on his face. He pulls Osamu in for a kiss and doesn’t hesitate to melt into it. It’s too late to question that now. “I want it.”
Osamu leaves a soft kiss to his nose before he looks down, bracing himself above him as he guides his cock between Rintarou’s legs. They both groan when he slides in and Rintarou keeps his hands locked behind Osamu’s back. His legs do the same as he adjusts to the feeling, staring up at Osamu’s shining eyes.
“Osamu,” he whispers, leaning up for a quick kiss. He doesn’t know why he can’t stop kissing him but Osamu indulges him every time. “You can move.”
Rintarou braces himself when Osamu hinges his hips back and thrusts back in. He gasps, head tipping backwards as he relishes in the feeling of being full. Osamu picks up a steady pace that Rintarou likes, and it doesn’t take long before he’s moaning at every drive of Osamu’s hips.
“Fuck, Osamu,” he keens when he slows down into a deep grind. It has his cock leaking onto his stomach, the coil inside him threatening to snap loose soon. It feels too good to stop and Rintarou is suddenly desperate for Osamu to make him come.
“Feel good, Rin?” Osamu murmurs, sliding a hand up to the side of Rintarou’s head. He tilts his cheek into Osamu’s palm as he nods. “You wanna come?”
Osamu’s thumb sweeps across his cheekbone before his hips slowly start to pick up speed. Rintarou moans before he nods quickly again, squeezing his eyes shut as he starts hurtling closer to the edge.
“I’ve got you,” Osamu says gently. The hand cupping his cheeks disappears, wrapping around his cock instead. He pumps in time with each drive of his hips, bringing him closer and closer to the precipice.
Rintarou cries out, back arching into the feeling as he starts chanting Osamu’s name. Pleasure pools low inside him before it overflows and he spills into his hand. It makes his breath catch, chest heaving as Osamu strokes him through it.
He hears Osamu groan lowly before he stills, following not too far from him. They stay like that for a bit. Not speaking — just catching their breaths until it’s too uncomfortable and Osamu has to pull out.
“You can shower first,” Osamu says, massaging Rintarou’s hips and then running a hand through his sweaty hair. It makes him feel too relaxed, so it takes a second before Rintarou finally sits up, wincing as he stretches.
When he comes back from his shower, he immediately gets into the bed. Osamu sits at the edge of it, his lips slightly quirked as he watches Rintarou get comfortable.
“Bathroom’s all yours,” Rintarou yawns, scrubbing a hand over his face before he looks at Osamu again. He has that fond look that he had on earlier that makes Rintarou’s heart beat louder. But his eyes threaten to close, so he resigns himself to thinking about it tomorrow.
“Thanks,” Osamu replies, leaning closer instead of standing to leave. He gets close enough for their noses to touch, and before Rintarou knows it, they’re kissing. It’s long and lingering and sweet. It leaves him a little dazed when Osamu pulls away and says, “Night, Rin.”
The next morning, he wakes up to find Osamu already watching him, a sleepy look on his bashful face. Rintarou’s grogginess almost beats out the awkwardness he suddenly feels.
“Hey-”
“I-”
They stare at each other for a moment before their quiet laughter eases the tension. Osamu reaches a hand out to move Rintarou’s hair out of his eyes and a knot loosens in his chest. He can’t imagine this ending badly when Osamu’s looking at him like that.
“You go first,” Osamu offers, features softening as he gazes at him.
“Okay,” Rintarou mumbles, his own hand moving to rest on Osamu’s hip. “I meant what I said last night. I don’t regret it. I realized halfway through that maybe I’ve wanted this for a while.”
Osamu grins, toothy and almost boyish as half of it gets squished into the pillow. Rintarou thinks it’s nice that he’s known Osamu’s smile since it was boyish.
“Me too,” he says. “More of this and more of ya sound good.”
“Just good?” Rintarou teases. He’s about to pinch Osamu’s hip before a phone rings, loud and blaring and very clearly Atsumu based on the obnoxious ringtone assigned to the caller.
Osamu rolls his eyes before he turns over to grab his phone. He spreads an arm out invitingly and Rintarou shuffles over to tuck himself into it.
“Yo,” he answers, putting the call on speaker. Atsumu scoffs.
“Okay, so you’re alive. Guys they’re alive.” A chorus of hungover affirmations follow. “Where are you and Sunarin?”
“Uh,” Osamu blinks and grimaces when he realizes he has to tell the truth if they want someone to pick them up. “Hotel.”
“Gross. Thought so,” Atsumu replies. Rintarou hears packaging being unwrapped and the sound of Atsumu taking a big bite out of something. “About damn time.”
“Wait, how do y’know Rin and I are together right now?” Osamu asks. Rintarou furrows his brows in his own confusion.
“Hah? I’m not stupid and I got two workin’ eyes. All of us knew somethin’ was gonna happen eventually,” Atsumu replies, food in his mouth as he speaks. “Also, someone came up to me last night and said he just saw me makin’ out with a tall guy and asked how I’d gotten to the bar so quickly. Figured it was you and Sunarin.”
“Oh,” Osamu says dumbly. He waits a few beats before he asks, “Can one of you come pick us up?”
“Hell no,” Atsumu snorts. “Get a taxi. And pick up breakfast. I ate the last bun. Thanks.”
He hangs up with no preamble and Osamu can only sigh as he puts down his phone. Rintarou squeezes his middle a little tighter, kissing his collarbone.
“They can starve,” Rintarou murmurs, planting another kiss against Osamu’s throat. The other man looks at him with interest, a smile spreading across his face as he pulls Rintarou in for a proper kiss.
“Oh yeah? You makin’ up for tappin’ out so fast last night?” he teases. Rintarou gives him a flat look and starts to squirm out of his arms.
“Fuck you. I’m leaving.” Osamu laughs as he tries to keep him from escaping and Rintarou has to fight to keep himself from breaking his façade.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Osamu chuckles. “Forgive me, my dearest lover.”
He moves until he’s on top of Rintarou, pinning his wrists above his head as he ducks down for a kiss. Rintarou feels the thrill travel down his spine and knows he’s already starting to tent in his robe.
“You think you’ve earned ‘lover’ status?” Rintarou jests, sliding his leg up between Osamu’s thighs. He pushes a little at his groin, pleased when he finds he’s already hard.
“Have I not?” Osamu grins like he’s being challenged. He dips down to nip at Rintarou’s neck. “Then I better work harder.”
Rintarou tries not to smile too much but it’s impossible when he realizes how much he likes doing this with Osamu. It’s all their familiar back and forth but with a lot more kissing, and Rintarou can only be happy that this is their new normal.
“Yeah,” Rintarou sighs, threading his fingers through Osamu’s hair. “Lots of hard work ahead of you.”
“For you?” Osamu starts to slide down his body, and Rintarou feels his heart pounding all over again when he spreads his legs. “I’ll do it.”