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It was funny, because the only people that ever had any doubts about their relationship were everyone else around them.
“Long distance never works out.”
“How do you guys even do it?”
“Aren’t you scared he’s looking at other people?”
Akaashi had never paid it any mind. They were kind of in their own little bubble back then.
The way they started talking had been pretty standard. There wasn’t really any magical chance encounter.
They’d interacted before, briefly, at tournaments and whatever other volleyball conventions they’d coincidentally been involved in together, training camps and away games. Akaashi knew who he was by reputation. The quieter more mysterious twin, because everyone knew Atsumu as Inarizaki’s hottie setter/captain who had this sexy accent and was going straight to the pro league after grad.
Akaashi had always found Osamu cuter.
It was just a cute little photo Akaashi had posted on his Instagram story, eyes closed while smiling brightly, curls shining, in a Todai crewneck.
He’d captioned it committed! and tagged the university. Osamu had been following him at that point, finding his account through mutuals, because of the whole mutual volleyball network thing.
Osamu had replied to his story with just a cute, simple: me too!!
omg congrats 💙💛
for volleyball i’m guessing?
business actually
not continuing vb after hs
oh shit why not?
And they’d just started talking. Mostly about university. A little bit about the city of Tokyo. Senior year of high school. Their commonalities, which were surprisingly many in number.
have u been to campus yet?
only seen it from the outside but i’m touring next week
send pics, Osamu requests.
And Akaashi gladly says yes because it gives him an excuse to text Osamu again.
Akaashi sends him a couple pictures of cool places he was shown on his tour, like the library and the central square with all the students lounging about. He also adds a little selfie. He’s smiling and his lashes are done and his cheeks are rounded with blush and he thinks he looks pretty.
blue looks good on you
hahaha ty for noticing 🤭 i coordinated with school colors
r u guys playing at the tournament in a cpl weeks?
yesss
first seed currently 💪
i’ll see you then!!
oh cool
i’m looking forward to that
i think u somehow managed to get prettier since the last time i saw u irl
🙈🙈 i’m blushing
And that’s a thing that happens sometimes. The flirty comment tacked onto the end of a conversation train.
They talk at all hours of the day. About everything.
rate the visual of this onigiri
6/10
i could 100% make it better
He confides in Osamu that he never really wanted the captaincy, he kind of just accepted it out of obligation, and Osamu assures him he’s doing an amazing job anyway, and he admires him so much for being able to balance that on top of all the shit that piles in senior year of high school.
Osamu tells him he’s happy he’ll know somebody once they get on campus. He’s been friends with the same people since forever, so the whole social aspect of uni kind of intimidates him. Akaashi assures him they’ll stick together.
Osamu convinced him to download BeReal and it turns out he’s the most active on there of all his socials. Akaashi screenshots one of his sweaty post practice thirst traps before he realizes BeReal displays screenshots, and he panics about that for a good two hours.
Osamu’s more animated than Akaashi thought he would be. He entertains the possibility that it’s because Osamu’s comfortable with him now that they’ve been talking for a while, but he shuts it down immediately. It’s probably just because they’re talking over the phone.
He comes to learn Osamu’s schedule by heart, just by the times he’ll answer his phone and when it’ll take him longer. He knows what time his lunch break is at school, when he starts and finishes practice, when he goes to the gym.
One day, Akaashi works up the nerve to text him:
we should ft someday
i can call u after gym today?
ok 😍
enjoy ur workout
And so he doesn’t just get a post-workout pump picture but a whole ass phone call where he can stop giggling at everything Osamu says. His sweaty hair tucked under a cap and this tank top that covers less than it shows.
“Your voice is different than what I thought it’d be,” Osamu tells him.
He’s walking home after the gym, with his airpods in.
“In a good or bad way?”
“Definitely good,” Osamu says, nodding.
There’s a pause where Osamu just looks at him, up and down. Then the plush red of his tongue flicks out to lick his bottom lip, and he takes it in between his teeth, canines glinting sharp.
Akaashi can’t even begin to explain how flustered this makes him.
“What is it?” he gets out, suppressing giddy laughter.
“Nothing, Keiji,” he says, smirking at him.
It’s the first time he’s ever heard his first name from Osamu’s mouth, and it makes him feel feverish.
He loves listening to Osamu’s voice as well. The Kansai accent was never so sweet as it was around the syllables of his name, or when he was saying something stupid to make Akaashi laugh.
And so the facetime calls become part of their routine. Akaashi always runs to the bathroom to wash his face, fix his hair, and put on tinted chapstick right before Osamu calls, that is if he doesn’t have time to set up his ring light or for a little no-makeup makeup routine.
are you free for a call tonight? Osamu texts.
ahh i can’t tn i’m going to a party 😖
and my friends are here rn getting ready
dw about it
a party sounds fun 😋
r u drinking?
maybe a little hahaha
enjoy it keiji 😋
be safe tho
Akaashi’s blushing so hard. What the fuck.
He loves when Osamu shows he cares like that. When he asks, how was your day? and if Akaashi gives him a slightly off answer, Osamu always asks what’s wrong?
He also won’t push or nag when Akaashi isn’t up to talking about it, letting him decide when he wants to be vulnerable. It makes it so easy to talk to him.
And he thinks that Osamu might like talking to him just as much, because he rarely turns down an invitation to call, especially if he’s at home alone. Even when it’s late and he’s tired, he may be shy to show his face a little bit at first, but he’ll take Akaashi’s calls even when he’s already brushed his teeth and is in bed in his sleep tank top, or not wearing a shirt at all, which is always a delight.
Today, he knows Osamu was up at five because they had morning practice today. And he’s still on call with Akaashi at 11PM because Akaashi was stressed about some plays he had to draw up before tomorrow. They’d gotten distracted and began to talk about other stuff though.
But he’s nodding and humming as Akaashi talks but he cuts off with what must be his third yawn in the last minute, rubbing the tears from his eyes.
“You’re so sleepy, Samu, maybe you should go to bed,” Akaashi says, cocking his head with a fond smile.
“Yeah, but I wanna talk to you,” Osamu answers, cracking a crooked smile. His voice is throaty with sleepiness and it makes Akaashi’s chest tighten up all sweet.
It’s at moments like these that Akaashi realizes what he feels for Miya Osamu is nothing less than a big fat crush. He’s halfway in love with him, at this point.
If strangers ask for his number he turns them down politely with Osamu in mind. He’s dry in DMs with anyone else with Osamu in mind. Technically there’s been no verbal communication that Osamu likes him back like that. Osamu’s not his man or anything, even if sometimes they text each other like he is.
Osamu sends him a post workout gym selfie wearing tiny gym shorts and nothing else.
i like your outfit 😍😍
i’d let u take it off me 😋
don’t make me get on the train rn
Akaashi’s pretty sure his most used emoji is 😋. It’s one of his few red flags.
When he’s feeling bold, he sends Osamu good morning selfies. He makes sure his collarbone shows but not that he has his whole tits out and snaps something cute with a silly face. Osamu always sends him one back. Sometimes it’s after his shower and Akaashi will be horny for the rest of the day.
i’m counting the days till the tournament
same
just bc i wanna see u tho
same
hahaha v irresponsible of u mr. fukurodani captain
can u blame me 🙈
nah i cant
Inarizaki is hosting their spring tournament, and Akaashi makes the trip over with his team by train.
He texts Osamu once he arrives and panics when he doesn’t get an instant reply.
He thinks to himself that he wants to greet him with a hug, he thinks they’re probably close enough for that, and he tells himself that he’ll definitely initiate if Osamu doesn’t do it first, because he has to make some kind of move.
He doesn’t see Osamu until after the opening ceremony, when all the teams are lounging around in the foyer. But when they do finally meet eyes, Osamu comes over and gives him a big squeeze.
Akaashi holds him just as tight and laughs a little, trying not to notice how big and broad Osamu’s back is in his arms. Their hug only lasts a couple seconds before Osamu’s launching them into conversation about the tournament.
They haven’t played Inarizaki yet so Osamu teases him about that, and this is when Akaashi finally starts to feel shy, tucking his hair behind his ear. He realizes Osamu might as well have him pinned to a wall in some private corner, the way he has Akaashi stuttering as he flirts without even trying to.
“I’ll see you tonight? Do you wanna have dinner together?”
“I think it’s best if I have dinner with the team,” Akaashi says, trying not to forget entirely that this tournament is about volleyball and Akaashi has a team he’s in charge of. “Maybe we can hang out after?” he suggests.
Osamu nods. “I’ll wait for you.”
When Osamu approaches him after dinner, most of the tables have cleared out, and Akaashi’s sitting with a cup of tea with a few of his lingering teammates.
“You wanna take a walk with me?”
Akaashi nods yes with a pink blush high on his cheeks.
Osamu shows him all these cool spots around the Inarizaki campus, which is so much bigger than Fukurodani, just because of all the land they have not being tucked into a huge metropolitan city. They’ve got big sports fields and brick paths lined with bougainvillea, and Osamu also points out their dormitories as well. Their hands don’t brush or anything like that but Osamu makes him laugh – a lot. Keiji thinks it is still quite romantic.
Osamu takes him to the playground on the other side of campus. Akaashi can guess that it’s the kind of spot couples go to to hook up. The squeaks of the swings and the starlight. But he squashes the thought immediately.
Osamu pushes him on the swing, the smile never leaving his face as he looks at Osamu over his shoulder, before they settle on a bench, side by side, swinging their feet and nudging each other, suppressing butterflies every time they make eye contact for more than three seconds.
“It’s so pretty,” Akaashi says, eyes turned to the sky. “We can’t see any stars in Tokyo because of the light pollution. I think I could look at them for hours.”
He’s talking to fill the silence mostly, vaguely aware that Osamu hasn’t taken his eyes off of his profile.
“Keiji,” Osamu calls.
Akaashi turns to face him, realizing his heart is pounding.
Osamu reaches out to cup his cheek, his touch feather light. Then Osamu asks him softly, barely more than a whisper, “Is this okay?”
Akaashi nods, just slightly so as not to stir the moment, giving Osamu permission to lean in. Osamu moves closer bit by bit, so slow. He stills, just an inch away from Akaashi’s face, so close Akaashi can tell he’s holding his breath, and then he’s leaning in to close the distance between them.
Their first kiss is soft and timid, neither of them entirely sure if this is okay, neither of them quite able to comprehend the boatload of sheer feeling being suppressed at the margins. Akaashi’s heart is beating so fast.
He presses them together again, and Osamu sucks Akaashi’s bottom lip gently, a pause before he breaks away. Akaashi breathes him in, leaning into his space once more. They’re kissing and kissing and suddenly it’s neither too much nor nearly enough, but somewhere so perfect in between.
“I’ve been waiting for you to do that the entire fucking night,” Akaashi admits, breathless.
“I’m gonna do it again then.”
Akaashi doesn’t even get the second to nod before Osamu’s putting his lips over Akaashi’s once again.
Their parted lips move against each other and this time it gets further from gentle with each passing second. Osamu threads his fingers through Akaashi’s soft curls, and Akaashi grabs his shoulders, clinging to him as he tilts his head to deepen their kiss.
Their rhythm gets hotter, faster, and soon Akaashi is forgetting everything but the plush warmth of his lips and the heat of his tongue moving against Akaashi’s own. Akaashi’s never been kissed like this before, but he doesn’t even have time to feel overwhelmed because he just wants to kiss him back, kiss him like he wants to melt into his mouth. They pull away only to breathe before they’re throwing their mouths against each other again. And again and again. Akaashi feels like he’s melting.
“Osamu—”
They’re panting when Akaashi pulls away. And still, Akaashi knows they wouldn’t have stopped if he didn’t call his name. But this is something he has to get off his chest, and he’s finally got the confidence to do it after Osamu’s just kissed him like that—
“I wanted to tell you that…” Osamu takes his hands in his and squeezes. In the moment, there’s suddenly not even an ounce of fear. Akaashi takes a shaky breath, smiling shyly as he says, “I like you a lot. It makes me really happy to talk to you even if it’s through the phone. And I love spending time with you like this,” he breaks off blushing, hoping Osamu knows he means more than just kissing. And Osamu nods, never looking away from him.
“And I know that it’s gonna be hard because of the distance, but if you feel the same as I do…”
“I do.”
“Do you wanna be my boyfriend?”
“Yes,” Osamu’s face splits into a grin, white teeth glimmering even in the dark, and it makes Akaashi’s heart soar. “Yes, Keiji. ” He runs his hands over Akaashi’s arms, the both of them laughing breathlessly.
“And don’t worry about the distance, baby. It’s only a few months till we’ll be together in the fall,” Osamu says sometime between more soft kisses. “And I can come visit you in Tokyo,” he offers.
Osamu’s his boyfriend. Osamu’s his boyfriend and he’s kissing him. Osamu’s calling him baby, and he’s his boyfriend, and they’re kissing.
“Maybe we should slow down,” Osamu breathes.
“Yeah, yes, okay.”
But then Osamu leans in again and they’re kissing again and Akaashi’s crawling into his lap.
They’re making out. What the fuck, they’re making out.
And the wet sounds coming from their kissing make Akaashi so fucking embarrassed, even if he never wants them to stop ever.
Osamu gasps into their kiss when Akaashi starts to grind on him, so shaky and timid, until Osamu puts his hands on his waist and forces him to do it properly, and this shiver goes down his spine that he wonders if Osamu can feel, because that feels so so so good.
Osamu’s hands are all over him, his waist, his arms, his thighs. The chill from the evening fades as Osamu moves to slide his fingers under the hem of Akaashi’s shirt, faintly tracing the dimple of Akaashi’s spine. And he swallows every whimper and every soft moan, kissing him like he wants to drink him up entirely.
When he pulls away his lips are tingling, and it’s quite possible that they’ve been nibbled cherry red.
In the dark, Osamu can’t see the blush on his face, though he surely must be able to feel it as he cradles Akaashi’s face like that.
Osamu kisses his nose and Akaashi would kiss him again for real if he wasn’t too busy laughing, these butterflies in his chest making him feel like he’s floating.
They make it back to the dorms eventually. Osamu kissed him goodnight at his doorstep, and they’d somehow managed to keep it chaste-ish. Probably because Akaashi was aware of how close they were to a bed at that point and he wasn’t exactly ready to do that with Osamu yet. Not the very first night they got together.
It’s almost a coincidence that his friends ask him about it the next day. They’re not really in the habit of talking about Osamu and him on the daily like that. But Akaashi must’ve been a little too distant from the conversation, because Osamu had texted asking where he was, then that he was gonna come over there now. Yes, they were being annoyingly clingy, but they only had a week where they could be this close.
“Who are you texting, Akaashi-kun?”
“Ah, just Osamu,” Akaashi replied. Osamu. Not Miya-san. Not even Osamu-san or Osamu-kun. Big mistake.
“How are things with you two?”
“Are you guys official yet?”
Akaashi’s blush had told them all they needed to know. And then came the barrage of questions.
“Since when?”
“Are you serious about him or are you guys just…messing around?”
“Keiji, how am I just finding out that you have a boyfriend?”
“He’s coming over here.”
Akaashi jolts up at that one.
“What?”
“Yeah, he’s walking over here.”
And before Akaashi can smooth out his hair or whip out his chapstick—
“Hey.”
He gives Akaashi’s friends a polite smile and waves, and Akaashi blushes watching them hold back giggles.
He puts a hand around Akaashi’s shoulder. “When’s your next game?”
“It’s not till five.”
“Should we grab a snack?”
“Yes, sure,” he replies.
Akaashi doesn’t know why he was expecting a little bit of awkwardness. He’s aware that this was kind of the natural progression in their relationship, judging by the way it was going. Osamu has been treating him like his boyfriend for months.
But Osamu in person sometimes makes him so shy. Osamu’s taller than him than he remembered, and he thinks he’s gotten bigger too. It was also so much easier to keep it a secret when it was just him and his chat and calls with Osamu. Now it’s suddenly like everyone knows and everyone looks at them whenever they walk into a room together.
It’s different when they’re alone though. Neither of them shy from physical affection, it’s always been the easiest part for both of them.
The huge interval between Keiji’s morning game and the subsequent one means he has time where he doesn’t have to be glued to his team’s side.
So they decide to get this massive haul of onigiri and fried chicken and iced tea from the convenience store across the street from campus, which they bring all the way to the field, where they sit together in the shade under a tree, taking their shoes off to feel the grass.
Akaashi's wearing his Fukurodani hoodie, and Osamu's in his track jacket and shorts.
Osamu lies on Akaashi’s thighs and tells him how they were resting Gin in the last match because he got injured, so Osamu played additional minutes in both of those games, which were back to back, and he’s sore all over and they’ve still got one more.
“You’re playing well though,” Akaashi assures him. “I saw your stats.”
“You were checking up on me?” His tone is light, teasing but touched underneath.
“Scoping out the competition,” Akaashi covers, though yes, he had wanted to make sure Osamu was okay. And the subtle teasing smile as he says it tells Osamu all he needs.
Osamu tilts his head to the side so he can kiss his thigh.
Osamu manages to get to the swag booth in the early morning before him, because Akaashi has a captains’ meeting with a few of the organizing staff. Atsumu is giving him a look across from him, like he knows Akaashi is texting his brother under the table.
Osamu sends him pictures of two t-shirts.
1 or 2?
i think 2
u want a matching one?
okay 🥰🥰
M-L is fine
copped.
thanks osamu
😘
come pick it up when you're done i’m at the bleachers in gym 2
He’s been putting it off because Osamu’s been glued to his guy friends, who are sometimes just kind of intimidating. They’ve only ever been nothing but kind to him, but their teasing looks or the way they rough Osamu up when he comes back from Akaashi’s table in the dining area just make Akaashi a bit shy around them.
Thankfully, when he sees Akaashi coming (because he’s starting to build this habit of looking for him in every room), he gets up from where he’s seated with his friends to meet Akaashi halfway.
“Here.” Osamu hands off the bag of goodies. “I got you a few other things as well,” Osamu says, and he’s holding a tote bag with a waterbottle, baseball cap, and towel inside.
“You’re the best,” Akaashi says, and he presses a quick kiss to Osamu’s cheek.
“Gimme a real kiss.”
“Your friends are right there,” Akaashi says shyly, looking over at the bleachers. Atsumu is blatantly judging them, looking unimpressed. Suna’s on his phone, pretending to be disinterested, and Gin is ogling a little, wide eyes darting between them.
Osamu, however, hasn’t looked away from Akaashi once. “Are they watching us?”
“I think maybe a little bit,” Akaashi murmurs.
Osamu takes his jaw in both his hands and pulls him in.
It’s a kiss that brings heat to flare inside him, and Akaashi feels a little bit like the room is spinning.
And so the tournament leaves Akaashi more smitten with him than ever. Miya Osamu, his boyfriend.
And they talked about the distance. Akaashi feels optimistic about it, especially because they know it’s gonna be finite. They’ll have four years to be together in college, and he’s definitely worth it.
did my makeup at 2AM cuz i was bored
no one to see it so u get a selfie
Actually Akaashi had also taken close to fifty slightly riskier photos where he was significantly less clothed. In various positions all over his bed, with the golden lights dimmed low. A little archive of sorts. He’s sure he’ll find an occasion to send a few of them to Osamu eventually.
Osamu responds less than 10 minutes later.
wow 😍😍😍😍
Then he sends him a screenshot of his new wallpaper.
omg samu 🤭🤭
you’re so beautiful keiji <33
how come i’ve never seen u wearing it?
i’m kinda shy to wear it in public i guess
maybe if u took me out somewhere nice 🤞
They can’t stop talking about graduation. They’re both so excited.
Osamu is trying to plan his grad outfit over a facetime call with Akaashi.
“Do I even need a tie?”
“Yes, you do, Samu,” Akaashi insists.
He manages to convince Osamu eventually, and then Osamu is showing his options asking him to help choose one.
“Are you sure you’re not bummed that I’m not coming to yours?” Akaashi asks, a little out of the blue.
Osamu assures him there’s no point; their graduations are only a couple days apart and he’s thinking of coming there anyways.
But when Osamu posts his grad/prom dump to Instagram the week after grad, Akaashi almost wishes they could’ve gone to prom together. Finding some quiet corner in the middle of the party to make out. And he’d tug at Osamu’s tie and feel up his bulge that leaves his trousers tight.
He knows Osamu shares a bunk bed with Atsumu. He also knows Osamu would insist he come over anyway. They'd have to be quiet, Osamu holding his hand over his mouth as they did it under the covers, from behind with Osamu's face buried in the crook of Keiji's neck, Atsumu steadily puffing in his sleep above them.
“Keiji?”
“I like the Yohji tie,” Akaashi says, pointing as he flushes shamelessly.
Osamu had brought it up on one of their calls sometime last week. Akaashi had been brushing his teeth and Osamu was turning in an assignment last minute.
“I’m thinking I could come to Tokyo the weekend of your graduation,” he says.
And once Akaashi had gotten over the initial rush of excitement, asking Osamu if he was sure and if it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience, he’d said:
“Do you need to stay at mine?”
“No, I can get a hotel.”
Akaashi thinks it would probably be a nice one too. Akaashi knows how much Osamu’s parents are paying in tuition for that bougie ass school, twofold for the twins.
“Are you sure?” he asks, nonetheless. “I think my mom wouldn’t mind.”
He can already imagine how that would go. He’d tell her they met at a tournament (because online friends are harder to understand) and they’ve been talking ever since. He’d tell her Osamu’s just a friend and they’ll be going to Todai together, and maybe he can stay in the guest room. He imagines tiptoeing over to his bedroom in the middle of the night and Osamu would be tucked in shirtless on his phone and they’d have to be quiet and hold back all their giggles.
“It could be nice if you stayed at mine.”
“Yeah, but a hotel room to ourselves would be nice too.”
Oh. Akaashi can also imagine how that would go.
He’s already thinking of the excuse he’d give his mom that would allow him to stay out all night. He’s never snuck out before, though he supposes it wouldn’t be that hard, considering how early his mom goes to bed. But the guilt would fully eat him up. No way. Sneaking out to spend the night with his boyfriend and coming back with hickeys the morning of his graduation? No way.
Sex with Osamu. Of course he’s thought about it before. When he’s masturbating, obviously, but they also make jokes about it all the time. But this is kind of the first time it’s felt like this real, inevitable thing that’s gonna happen. Either because he realizes that Osamu’s thinking about it too, that it’s something they both want, or because it’s just that obvious what he’s implying. Why else would Osamu prefer the hotel room?
Closer to Osamu’s visit, which he’s been counting the days until for at least two weeks now, Akaashi brings it up for real.
“So…I bought condoms today,” he confesses, playing with the sleeves on his sweater as he cradles the phone to his ear.
He’s expecting Osamu later that week. At that point they’d been dating officially for three months, talking for two more before that. Then it was three months until they’d be college students together.
“Cool,” Osamu replies casually. “I was debating whether or not I should bring any, but if you got us covered I won’t bother.”
Fuck. He clearly doesn’t have any idea that Akaashi’s hands are shaking, and he physically cannot stop fidgeting.
“Osamu, you know that I’ve never done that before, right?”
There’s a second’s worth of quiet.
“I didn’t know that,” Osamu says evenly, not evidently surprised but not teasing either. Akaashi holds his breath as Osamu asks, “Are you ready to? Because there’s no pressure, Keiji.”
“I want to,” he says firmly. “With you,” he adds, softening.
There’s a pause only broken when Osamu takes a deep breath, making the line between them crinkle.
“I’m gonna make it really good for you,” he says softly. “I promise you, Keiji. And I’m happy you’re trusting me with this.” Akaashi’s heart squeezes. “But I’m also okay taking things slow if that’s what you want,” he adds.
Immediately, Akaashi replies, “It isn’t.”
“Okay,” he breathes. “Okay, Keiji.”
“I can’t wait for you to be here,” Akaashi says. He feels good being vulnerable with him. So fucking safe.
“Me too, babe,” Osamu answers, laughing a little. “I’m excited.”
“To see me or to have sex with me?” Akaashi asks, turning his smile down to his lap.
“Both,” Osamu confirms.
Osamu shows him what sex is when it’s with someone who cares about you, about making you feel good, and someone who knows how to do it.
Akaashi touches himself a lot. It’s kind of become a part of his weekly wind-down routine on Fridays, late Saturday mornings if he’s busy Friday night. He’ll have quick sessions throughout the week if he’s stressed or can’t sleep, but he takes his time with it on the weekends. He’s made a little ritual of it. He knows what he likes, how to make himself cum and he likes so much the way it feels even when he’s alone.
He wants that with Osamu. He’s pictured Osamu doing all the things he likes to him, and that makes them even better.
When he’s stuck he’ll take out whatever picture Osamu sent him last. He’ll touch himself slowly, building a little fantasy in his head. On nights like those when he cums he’ll call out Osamu’s name.
i jerked off to ur pics last night
hope that’s okay
what do u think i send them to u for?
next time u could give me a call, if you’d like. wouldn’t even have to be ft
okay ;))
hahaha
cute
The sexting becomes a new part of their relationship.
Neither of them have worked up the nerve to actually facetime and jerk off together, but they send dirty messages and sometimes they call each other in the middle of it.
osamu
wyd
just finished dinner
i’m in bed
and i want you next to me
call me
He hears Akaashi’s breathlessness on the phone, the muffled whimpers of pleasure as he listens to Osamu speak, his voice throaty and deep.
“Are you touching yourself?” Osamu asks. His voice is so low, alone in the bedroom Akaashi knows he shares. Atsumu must be out or in the living room, and he pictures Osamu fresh out the shower, shirtless with a hand absentmindedly down his boxers.
“Two fingers inside and it’s not enough,” he whispers into the phone, his voice shaking. He pushes his fingers deeper, practically sighing, “I want you.”
“Fuck, Keiji, I can hear you,” Osamu breathes. Each thrust of his fingers makes a thick wet sound that makes him want to blush. He’s already so stretched out, lube dribbling out of him and all over his inner thighs. “Must be so wet for me,” Osamu says.
“I am, Samu, I want you inside me so bad,” he whines, eyes pinched shut as his fingers reach for that spot inside him that makes him gasp into the telephone line.
“The sounds you make are so pretty, Keiji. I can’t wait to hear you moan for me when I fuck you for real.”
“Fuck,” he breathes. “Do you— think about it sometimes?”
“All the time, baby,” Osamu answers, and Akaashi barely suppresses a soft moan. “I think about all the ways I’m gonna make you come when we’re together. With my face between your legs, or you on all fours.”
“Osamu,” he cries out, suddenly so close much too fast.
“Let it out, baby.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he pants, his dick throbbing in his fist.
Osamu curses as he listens to Akaashi come, soft whimpers barely heard over the fast slick sounds of him jerking himself through it.
“Gimme one sec,” he gets out shakily, cutting the line as he stands to head to the bathroom and clean himself up.
Akaashi’s ready to text him that he’s sorry for leaving so abruptly, the post-nut clarity just made him super embarrassed all of a sudden.
But then Osamu sends him a video.
It’s shaky and the sound is muffled but on, so Akaashi can hear the way he groans as he cums. It splatters everywhere, shooting out of his throbbing cock as he pumps it out of him with slick wet strokes, and his abs flex as he pants. He smears his cum over his abs once he finishes, and Akaashi holds his breath through all of it.
fuck i’m hard again
i want that inside me
i wanna fuck u on your bed
every time u lie there alone i want u to think of me
and the way i made you scream as u came untouched
His first time with Osamu is even better than he’d imagined. When he’s overwhelmed, Osamu slows it down for him. When he needs more, more, more, please, Samu, more, Osamu gives it to him. He feels so damn lucky to have him.
Osamu’s experience used to be a thing that intimidated him a bit. It wasn’t even like he’d been with a ton of people.
“My ex boyfriend and a fleeting sneaky link,” Osamu summarizes neatly.
What Keiji gathers from this is that Osamu is comfortable having casual sex. More importantly though:
“How long were you together?” he asks.
“We dated for eight months, were hooking up for maybe three before that.”
“Oh.”
Presumably Osamu has been having sex regularly for at least a year already. That’s quite enough time to get good at it. What if Akaashi isn’t good at it? What if he can’t make Osamu come or something?
Regardless, the day Osamu arrives he tells his mom Bokuto is treating him and the team to dinner and the reservation’s late enough that he’ll miss the last train and he’s just gonna crash at Bokuto’s place. She texts him a thumbs up emoji and that covers it.
It’s not that his anxieties evaporate the second Osamu puts his hands on him. In fact, he’s quite tense at first, because even if they’d shared kisses like this, feverish kisses that make him feel like he’s physically burning up from the inside, so hot he feels dizzy, he knows it’s different. And Osamu notices, because he’s physically more rigid than usual in his arms.
“You okay?” Akaashi nods, keeping Osamu close to him. “Let’s just slow it down, okay?” Osamu tells him.
“I feel so lucky it’s only me who gets to have you like this,” Osamu whispers, slowly kissing down his neck. Akaashi warned him no hickeys though.
This somehow escalates into Osamu biting hard into the flesh near his shoulder.
“You won’t even be able to look at anyone else once I’m done with you.”
At that, Akaashi’s climbing on top of him, stripping his shorts before shoving his mouth against Osamu’s.
He thinks about the quiet moments afterwards.
“How was that for you?”
Akaashi literally cannot hold back a grin, though he cups his hands over his mouth to hide it.
“Really good,” he admits, voice shaky.
“Yeah?”
Osamu looks up at him, his own smile just as bright.
“Yeah,” Akaashi nods, blushing furiously. “It felt really good, Samu.”
He means it. He doesn’t think he’ll stop thinking about it for the next week. Maybe longer.
Until Osamu’s asking him, “You wanna do it again?”
Akaashi giggles like Osamu’s crazy, but when Osamu gets on top of him to give him a kiss, Akaashi kisses back twice as hard.
Graduation is one of the happiest days of Akaashi’s life. Maybe it’s a cliche but he wonders if he’s ever felt more accomplished, more proud of himself. And he feels so loved, watching Osamu stand and clap for him next to his mom and Bokuto when his name is called. The smile doesn’t leave his face once the entire night, nor does the perpetual ache in his cheeks when he runs into Osamu’s arms afterwards, when his mom is chatting with Bokuto.
Osamu looks so handsome, with the first three buttons on his shirt undone and the chain underneath. His dress shirt is a crisp blue and tucked in neatly behind his belt. His suit jacket’s come off though. Akaashi’s so happy to show him off.
“I’m so proud of you,” Osamu whispers in his ear. His arm is over his shoulder, perpetually keeping them pressed together. “You’re gonna go on to do so many brilliant big things.”
How to tell Osamu that Keiji wants him there to see him accomplish every single one?
Sometime later Osamu confesses to him, “Also, your mom asked how long we’d been together.” Akaashi blanches. “I didn’t mind and I told her, but I thought you told her we were just friends.”
“She just asked you outright?” Akaashi says, eyes wide. “I guess she just figured it out,” he decides.
With immaculate timing, Akaashi’s mom swoops in just then to interrupt their little moment.
“Congratulations, baby,” his mom tells him for the umpteenth time that night, giving him a big hug and wet smooch. “I’m so proud of you.”
Akaashi’s mom is wearing black Louboutin pumps and a pantsuit whose jacket cuts a V down her chest. She carries a DSLR camera that’s strapped in around her wrist.
She straightens Akaashi’s medals and chords, which came with the salutatorian and honors awards.
“You guys want a picture together?”
“Yes please,” Osamu says, at the same time that Akaashi says, “Sure.”
Osamu slides his arm around Akaashi’s waist and pulls him close to him. Akaashi puts his hand around his shoulder.
She steps back and aligns them in the frame, counting down from three and calling out ‘smile!’ like they’re five again. She takes another with the camera horizontal, and Osamu turns to look down at him. Akaashi looks up, but he can’t hold his gaze for long enough before he breaks away laughing.
“One more,” she calls, and this time Osamu plants a kiss on Akaashi’s temple as the camera gives a flash.
“So cute!”
“Okay,” Keiji squeaks, so embarrassed he’s starting to sweat. “Thanks Mom.”
She gives him a knowing smile, like she knows she’ll be showing these photos to her grandkids in some twenty years.
Osamu’s decision to go back to his natural color is one he makes all on his own. In fact he’d informed Akaashi about it a few hours before his appointment, so he didn’t even have any time to get any details. Instead Osamu had just texted afterwards:
just got home
Akaashi calls him immediately.
“What do you think?”
Akaashi watches him run a hand through his hair, freshly cut and now dyed a dark shade of brown closest to black, cool toned and shiny.
“You look so much older,” Akaashi tells him, trying to suppress the pounding in his ribcage. Holy shit.
Osamu laughs it off. “Really? Tsumu says the opposite,”
He can hear Atsumu in the background, fiddling with something in the kitchen, though Osamu’s wearing airpods.
If Osamu notices that Akaashi’s literally drooling on camera, he doesn’t say anything.
“I like it a lot,” Akaashi says. “You look…really fucking hot.”
Osamu starts to laugh at that, flustered like he doesn’t even know how serious Akaashi is, and he runs a hand through his hair, looking away from the camera shyly. Akaashi screenshots him serially.
They don’t see each other all summer. Osamu’s vacationing in Shanghai where his father has relatives, and Akaashi’s mom takes him on a trip to Hawaii for a couple weeks. So they don’t find the time to make a visit happen. But they’re doing good. Better than ever really.
Akaashi sends him pictures tanning on the beach in brightly colored swim trunks, and sipping from coconuts with a hibiscus flower tucked in his sand-dusted hair. Osamu sends him pictures of all this yummy food, spicy hot pots and dim sum. They’re both so optimistic and excited for college in the fall. And the end of their little LDR era, which they take advantage of from the very first day they arrive on campus.
my roommate went to dinner
come over?
That first night in the dorm…Osamu’s never fucked him like that before. Osamu always gives him good sex but it was just different that first night. Akaashi doesn’t think they’ve ever gotten more lost in each other. The squeaking of the bed underneath them, the sweaty sheen on their naked bodies.
Osamu puts a hand on his throat and drives into him over and over, the bed squeaking underneath them. Akaashi wraps those long toned legs of his around him, clinging to him, and Osamu takes that as his cue to move them up over his shoulders, Akaashi’s hips curling off the mattress. He clutches his thighs to keep his legs in place as he fucks him like that until they both come, Osamu deep inside him and Keiji all over their chests.
Akaashi had made him take off the condom in the middle of it. After a short conversation afterwards, they decide not to use condoms anymore.
They take full advantage of the lack of distance between them and the fact that neither of them are living with parents anymore.
It gets to the point where if they don’t do it for longer than four days, they’re both itching for it to the point where they’ll throw themselves at each other any thirty minutes they get alone. And then they’ll struggle to make it last longer than ten.
“Wait, wait, wait—”
“Pause?”
“Yeah,” Osamu breathes, nodding. Because he’s already close and Akaashi only just started to move his hips. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says, his face flushed so pretty.
“It’s okay,” Akaashi murmurs, breathlessly through a smile, and he moves to lay against Osamu’s chest.
He inhales sharply, probably because that little movement adjusts his dick still inside him.
“Ah, slowly,” he blurts, choked, and Akaashi laughs a little as he begins to kiss his neck.
They cut class (it’s the gen ed math and the professor doesn’t even take attendance is how Akaashi justifies it to himself) to make out in Akaashi’s dorm, because his roommate is in that very same math class.
They’re both half naked and they have some playlist on in the background because that feels safer when they’re in the dorms, and Osamu’s stroking him with a hand down his boxers.
He breaks their kiss, eyes hazy and hair a mess, lips a little swollen as he whispers to Akaashi, “I wanna fuck you doggy.”
When Osamu has him on all fours, drawing his fingers out of him, Akaashi looks over his shoulder, already breathless, eyes a little wet.
“You can—” He catches Osamu’s eyes raking over his body, his gaze heated and low. “You can rough me up,” he says.
“Yeah?”
He nods, barely suppressing a whimper at the way Osamu’s watching him.
Akaashi doesn’t even realize how long Osamu’s actually wanted to do it like this.
Because Osamu yanks him by his hair to pull him back for a kiss. He slaps his ass as he’s fucking him only to make it tighter when Akaashi clenches around him, crying out loud.
Akaashi came into his own fist as Osamu gave him a facial, and it’s the hardest he’s come in a long time.
He tells Osamu he wants them to be open about things like that. Every time they’ve ever tried anything it’s gone well, so… Akaashi decides to ask him one day, in the middle of another little make out sesh.
“Would you ever be okay with letting me tie you up?”
“Shit, baby,” Osamu replies, breathlessly. “I’d do whatever you asked me to.”
Osamu fulfills all the promises he’d made from before.
Osamu plans nice dates for them because he knows Akaashi loves an excuse to dress up, and he waits at the front of Akaashi’s doorstep. He texts Akaashi that he’s outside and watches him bound down the stairs, unable to hold back a big smile, before he stops in front of him.
He’s wearing makeup and the scarf Osamu bought for him just for fun a few months ago.
“Wow…”
He scoops up the flowers Osamu brought for him, beaming.
Akaashi has him speechless for long enough that he starts to blush, even as he throws his arms around Osamu’s shoulders.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Osamu blurts out. “I’m in awe of you.” When Akaashi leans in, Osamu stops them. “It’ll smudge,” he says, watching Akaashi’s lips.
Akaashi gives him a kiss that shows exactly how little he cares.
(He does fix it in the car mirror and does his best to rub it off Osamu’s lips before they walk into the restaurant).
Once around campus Akaashi finds him talking to one of his professors.
It’s his capstone mentor and sometimes he babysits his kids for him for a bit of extra cash. Osamu’s parents have enough money for Osamu to live off his debit card, but he thinks it’s important for him to be financially independent. Akaashi supports him either way.
He comes to pick Osamu up in the evening, once he’s picked the kids up from school and spent the afternoon with them.
Akaashi can see them from the driveway. Osamu shakes the father’s hand, then gives their mother a hug. Then one of the kids is asking for a hug too, then the other one, and then he’s got one of them in each of his big arms. The husband starts to say something, probably inviting Osamu to stay for dinner. He imagines Osamu telling them, I’d love to but I have plans with my boyfriend. He’s here to pick me up.
Osamu squats so the kids can get down, but clearly they don’t want to, clinging to him with all their tiny limbs.
But he makes it to the car eventually, sliding into the passenger seat with a long sigh.
“Sorry I made you wait, they didn’t wanna let me go,” Osamu says, sounding winded but happy. Akaashi watches him run a hand through his hair.
“You’re really good with kids, Samu,” he says. “I really like that about you.”
“You want kids someday?”
“Yes,” Akaashi replies firmly. “I think just one though.”
Osamu’s the furthest thing from an only child and Akaashi is very much a stereotypical only child. He hopes this will not be an issue since Akaashi will be having his only kid with Osamu. As for his baby’s name, he thinks she’ll have to have the kanji they share in her name too. Unless Osamu wants to name her after Atsumu. All four of them would be Miyas, after all.
“You’d be an amazing dad,” Osamu tells him. When Akaashi starts to laugh, half embarrassed half disbelieving, Osamu insists, grabbing his thigh, “You would.”
“Says you.” How caring and dedicated and selfless Osamu naturally is.
“I could see us doing it together.”
“What? Being parents?”
“Yeah.”
“Samu, we’re twenty two,” Akaashi says, a reminder for the both of them, because he’s grinning so hard his cheeks hurt at the mere idea of it.
“Yeah,” Osamu says. “But still. In the long term, I mean.”
Osamu’s been his family for long enough already. By the time they move in together into their first permanent place, one they spent a year searching for together after graduation, even Akaashi’s mom is accustomed to it.
“How’s Osamu? You guys looked gorgeous in those pictures you sent. You’re glowing, sweetheart.”
Yes, they’d done an impromptu photoshoot in their new house a few hours before the housewarming party (that Akaashi refused to call a party) they were hosting. Akaashi wore a green chunky knitwear piece and he’d even managed to get Osamu into trousers instead of sweats.
Akaashi propped the phone up, put the timer on, and recorded a few videos too. Them slow dancing in their new kitchen and Osamu kissing him super romantic in a dip. Cheesy shit that Osamu couldn’t even pretend he didn’t love because he was a romantic like that. But they’d taken a few standard pictures too, holding each other, smiling at each other, kissing each other. And Akaashi had sent a couple of the most family friendly ones to his mom.
“Should I be on the lookout for my mother-of-the-groom dress?”
“Mom!”
He’s scolding to play coy honestly. He’s loved the idea of being Miya Keiji since high school really.
“Obviously you guys have talked about it?”
“Yeah, but we’re both so busy getting our lives on track right now,” Akaashi replies, being reasonable. “I don’t think it’ll happen for another few years. And anyways, we’re not in a rush.”
“That’s good, baby. That’s good.”
He’s grown up with Osamu through so many pivotal years of his life. Osamu’s become part of him at this point. He’s never been more in love with him, or prouder of who both of them have come to be, and it’s only getting better day by day.
It doesn’t mean they don’t have their rough patches. The transition to living together full time had been a bit hard on Akaashi at first, who definitely struggled finding ways to have his moments alone, moments that have always been necessary for him.
It hurts Osamu when he gets distant with no warning.
Their place is quiet except for the sounds of him in the kitchen, the soft easing sizzle as he brings his pan off the heat, the dull latch of the rice cooker being released as Osamu lifts it open. He’s in shorts and a t-shirt, making dinner for them at home. He plates the stir fry in a dish then scoops just one portion of rice into a smaller bowl, bringing that to the table. Akaashi’s already finished the miso soup Osamu brought out first.
“Where’s yours?” Akaashi asks, when Osamu has set down Akaashi’s bowl in front of him.
“I’m gonna wash the dishes first,” Osamu says.
Akaashi’s stomach drops.
Meals together are sacred to them. Food is the love language that comes most naturally to him.
“No,” Akaashi says, immediately chasing after him. “Please, Samu, I’m sorry,” Akaashi says, and he’s hugging Osamu from behind and he fills the pot with soapy water. “Please eat with me.”
Osamu sighs through his nose, but complies when he sees the sheen in Keiji’s eyes.
They pass dinner silently. The clang of his utensils and his chewing all feel too loud, even if it’s no different than usual.
“Is it okay?” Osamu says eventually.
“Yes,” Akaashi says, nodding. “It’s good, Samu, thank you.”
Akaashi begins his apology when Osamu’s finished, scraping the last few grains of rice in his bowl to one side.
“I know that making time for you is a bare minimum thing and even if I was busy I should’ve found the time, especially since our plans came first. I know it’s not the first time either and we’ve talked about this,” he says.
“If you know all this, why is it so hard for you to make the effort?”
“Osamu, please don’t be angry at me.”
“I’m not angry at you. I’m just frustrated that this keeps happening.”
“I’m not gonna let it get this bad again, Samu, I promise,” Akaashi says, holding his hand tightly. “I’m sorry.”
At this point, Osamu’s guilt that he’s made Akaashi feel bad outweighs all the anger or frustration.
“It’s okay, baby, don’t be upset,” Osamu says softly, gently running his hands over his face. “Let’s go to bed.”
“I’ll help you clean up,” Akaashi offers, eyes flitting around their kitchen.
“Don’t worry about it. Just— wait up for me?”
He nods and retreats to their bedroom with a kiss to Osamu’s cheek. After he’s washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen, Osamu returns to give him an apology blowjob about an hour later, and Akaashi sleeps so good that night.
Honestly, whenever Osamu’s mad at him it usually comes out as he’s cooking. Another time, Akaashi had missed an insurance appointment they were supposed to go to together that Osamu had already rescheduled twice for him.
He apologized and said he wasn’t mad, he understands Keiji was busy and something came up last minute, but Osamu can be petty when he wants to be.
“How do you want your eggs?”
“Scrambled is fine.”
“Well, we’re out of milk so I’m frying them.”
“That’s fine,” Akaashi will say.
Akaashi’s learned that the quickest way to diffuse him is to just be nice, be a pacifist. Eventually he’ll get tired of fighting with himself. Akaashi has this technique down pat, and Osamu never manages to stay mad at him for more than four hours. It only becomes difficult when he feels Osamu’s in the wrong. Because Akaashi can certainly give him attitude when he wants to.
It was late enough in January that Akaashi was seeing all sorts of Valentine's gift ideas on his explore page. He’d seen a red lingerie set that he thought about seriously for a good while, even though he knows black is Osamu’s favorite and what he feels sexiest in. Something special for V-day, he was thinking. He was excited.
Until Osamu had asked if it was okay if they kept it lowkey this year, because he’d be meeting with potential partners and his accounting people that whole week. It was when he was first thinking of making Onigiri Miya into something more serious.
“It’s okay,” Akaashi had said, fighting demons not to let his expression show how crestfallen he was. “We can do something chill at home. Maybe we could stay in and you could make dinner for us?”
Yeah. He’d get the candles out and he’d splurge on an imported wine or champagne, and maybe Osamu would surprise him with roses. That would be enough.
“Thanks for understanding, Keiji, I’m sorry,” Osamu had said.
Except the whole thing fell through when Osamu came home late from a late lunch that stretched into a business nightcap, and he hadn’t had time to run to the grocery store for the steaks Akaashi had asked him for, and as he came home, furiously tugging at his tie, kicking off his shoes, Akaashi could tell that he wasn’t really in the mood for it anyway.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Osamu had said.
“It’s okay,” Akaashi replied, setting his glasses on the nightstand. “It’s not like we agreed to anything special.”
But Akaashi had been pissed that entire week. Gave him attitude when Osamu asked him simple things. Curved his kisses and complained a little too much when Osamu slapped his ass in the kitchen.
“You can’t tell me one thing and expect me to do another,” Osamu says impatiently. “I can’t read your mind like that.”
“Stop making excuses, Samu, you’re just being lazy.”
He’s walking around the house in a tank top and sweats moving his hips about and honestly Osamu would be super turned on right now if they weren’t in the middle of a fight.
This has no influence on Osamu’s realization that Keiji actually has a point.
“When’s the last time you carved time out of your schedule so we could do something special?” he speaks reasonably after they’ve both cooled down a bit, still an edge of annoyance in his voice. When Osamu blinks dumbly at him for a second too long, he snaps at him again. “See what I mean? You don’t even realize how long it’s been. You don’t even feel the need to make an effort for me anymore,” Akaashi says, crossing his arms. “And you’re getting mad at me for even pointing it out.”
Osamu winces, realizing Akaashi’s going off on him for real.
“Okay, baby,” Osamu says. “I’ll plan something for us next weekend, okay? You won’t have to think about any of it.”
“I don’t wanna have to force you to spend time with me,” Akaashi says, rolling his eyes.
But Osamu’s patient. “I want to take you out, Keiji,” he promises. “I wanna see you dressed up for me and I want to treat you to something nice. I do,” he insists, when Akaashi gives him a look. “I’m sorry I’ve been an ass about it, okay?”
The timer for the food Osamu has in the oven goes off then, and Osamu starts to stand.
“Let me get that,” he says.
Akaashi follows him into the kitchen, taking on his usual sous chef role, which includes munching on all the food before it’s off the burner under the guise of tasting if there’s enough salt. Normally he’ll let Osamu feed it to him.
They talk about it as Osamu finishes up dinner. Osamu promises he’s gonna make it up to him. Akaashi lets the thing about the lingerie slip out accidentally but not actually accidentally, so Osamu knows exactly what he missed out on, and he does feel a little smug watching him stutter.
“I just— wanna feel like you’re wooing me again,” he confesses, leaning against their spotless countertops. Osamu makes a ritual out of scrubbing them every evening. He’s got magic with his cleaning products that make them look new.
“Is that what I was doing when we were 17?” Osamu’s tone is teasing now. “Wooing you?” he echoes.
Osamu crowds him in, hands on either side of him.
And Akaashi knows he’s making fun, but he can’t help but insist.
“Yes,” Akaashi says firmly. “You were so fucking charming and you always took care of me.” 17-year-old Samu was such a good boyfriend. He’s so nostalgic. “I used to love it so much when you were protective over me,” Akaashi says, reminiscing a little. “I still do,” Akaashi reminds him.
When Osamu guides him to the inside when they’re walking on a sidewalk, or when he puts his arm around him at a club where he was getting looks that made him uncomfy. Even simple things like pulling him away from the hot stove when he was leaning a little too close. What would Akaashi give to have that again…
“Jeez, I’ve been a real shitty boyfriend lately, huh?”
“Not shitty,” Akaashi says.
“But I could do better,” Osamu concludes, wrapping his arms around him in a hug. “I’m gonna do better, baby, I promise. I want you to feel like my biggest priority again. Because you are the most important thing in my life, babe,” he says. “Always will be.”
Akaashi doesn’t have anything else to say but, “I love you, Samu.”
“I love you too, baby. More than anything.”
Center of his whole world. Love of his life.
That kinda thing.