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The reflection in the window is distorted and wobbly. He hiccups more frequently now and can’t walk straight. The mix of drugs and alcohol makes him want to throw up.
It’s getting late, and as the club he is in is starting to close, Suna realises that it’s time to go home. His night started out like shit and he only had one goal; not sleep alone. Looking around, he couldn’t find the guy he was chatting with earlier. The other had looked him up on the dance floor and only seconds after they were grinding against each other.
Now he was all alone again. He has a certain guy in mind, but he isn’t around, having denied his invitation in the first place. Suna is longing to be by his side.
Their relationship was…how could one put it…difficult. Osamu and Suna had met in high school and immediately became friends. Throughout the years their bond only became stronger, until they kissed at a training camp. Since then, they repeated the same action over and over again, longing for the other’s closeness and lips.
Drugs and alcohol ruined it for him. Suna was getting high almost every night since they graduated and wouldn’t stop. Not even after Osamu begged him to think over what it would do to him, one time he had to pick him up from a club. He couldn’t. It gave him a kind of rush that couldn’t be replaced by anything else.
So he continued to wreck himself until Osamu drew the line and stopped answering late-night calls. He started denying the hook-up request and didn’t answer his messages late at night. In the day, he kept acting like they were best friends.
To Suna, it only seemed fair. Shitty, but fair.
Back in the club, Suna frantically moves his head around seeing Osamu at the bar, dancing with another guy that was not him, taking shots with random people. Even in his drunken state, he knows that it is all in his imagination.
Osamu had denied another one of his club requests, telling him he had to be up bright and early for his job. He had started at a restaurant only a few weeks prior and now spent more time in the kitchen than anywhere else.
Taking out his phone, he takes a few moments to lean against a wall and looks at the time. Was that a two or a three? It didn’t matter anyway. It was late and he needed someone to pick him up. His first choice was Osamu, but he knew his best friend by day, acquaintance by night would not answer anymore. He tried either way. Once. Twice. A third time. Over and over again, until the phone got picked up.
At first, he couldn’t believe that Osamu would actually pick up, but the voice on the phone was someone else. Once he realised that he actually typed the wrong contact, he immediately ended the call.
Maybe if Suna had a legitimate question, Osamu would be more likely to respond, but the latter knows he is out of it and just wants to hook-up. The problem was that this was a frequent thing. The only time Suna calls Osamu was when he was high or drunk and feeling lonely.
It was around three in the morning now and he was standing in front of the closed club. His heart was racing and his vision still blurry. He tried calling Osamu again, but his stupid voicemail answered every time. Typing out a message had failed miserably, as he was not able to tell a difference in the letters.
He slumped down on the wall and had a sudden urge to throw up. Bile was rising in his throat and he was frantically trying to swallow it down until it got the better of him and he painted the sidewalk with the meagre dinner he had earlier; one of the instant ramen soups so that the drugs would kick in faster.
People were walking past him laughing and kissing. A certain type of longing filled him again. He tried telling himself he would stop the drugs and the alcohol and every messed up decision he made, but only ever turned up on a sidewalk every time.
It needed to change. He needed to change.
Getting out his phone again he called Komori, a guy on his volleyball team that knew of his condition and had offered to pick him up once. He hoped he could rely on him again. In fact after only two rings he picked up and promised he would get him.
Twenty minutes later he was laying against the window of the passenger’s seat. Komori was nice enough not to talk and even offered to help him up, dragging him into his apartment. Suna had been over a couple of times already, but only for team-related stuff.
“-the guest bedroom. It’s over there. I already got everything ready for you. There’s an unused toothbrush in the bathroom. Good night.“
Komori turned and left Suna standing in the living room. The lights weren’t on and he was stumbling to find the mentioned room. When he found it, he got halfway out of his pants until he collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep.
He awoke in the same position, jeans half down his legs and drool all over his face. His head hurt, but it had been worse before. Besides the bed, he could make out a glass of water and gulped it down. He fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
Once again he told himself it would be different this time. For himself. For Osamu. For everyone around him. He sat up slowly and immediately wanted to throw up. Running out of his room and into Komori’s bathroom just in time until the contents of his stomach decorated the toilet. He took deep breaths trying to calm himself. He could hear Komori talk through the door.
“Hey man, you ok? I made some breakfast. You should get some solid food into you.“
With the words, his stomach started grumbling and he slowly heaved himself up, one hand on the sink for support. He took a look in the mirror and was not surprised by what he saw. Sunken in, bloodshot eyes, hair all over the place sticking up to both sides and his shirt rumpled and ripped. He let his head fall against the mirror.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This needs to stop. This needs to fucking stop.“
He told himself the same words over and over again until Komori knocked on the door again. Quickly he took heaps of water in his hands and washed his face, pulling his hair back as he went.
In the living room, the table was set with various kinds of food. Suna didn’t know Komori could cook, but he had the feeling the other probably told him when he was drunk once.
“Thank you, Komori. For… you know. Everything. I’m really sorry.“
“It’s ok. I offered. Not to be too… intruding, but did you ever think about rehab?“
Suna huffed. Of course, he had. Just thinking about being stuck in some cheap hospital, where everyone was always smiling, made him sick. He wanted to do it on his own. Wanted to show everyone that he was capable of doing it on his own.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it. As long as you don’t mess up before training.“
He did sometimes. Took some shots the night before a game to cool down or smoke outside of the changing room before practice. Nobody seemed to notice though. Or maybe they did, but so far no one had said anything.
Once they had tested him on drugs and he was out for a few games and got a huge scolding from his trainer, but that was it. He managed to minimise the amount he took before games and it never happened again.
“No. You’re right. I should. I just- I can’t.“
He lowered his gaze, shoving food around on his plate.
“I can help you. If you want. I understand not wanting to go away and admit it. I-Someone close to me had to go through the same thing and if you want-“
“Yes.“
The word left his mouth before his brain caught up. Surprise lined Komori’s face and showed exactly what he was thinking.
“Oh. Cool. Ok. Uhm… that’s good. Admitting something is wrong is the first step.“
He huffed again.
“Thanks, Komori. So. What do I got to do?“
“Before we start with all of this. It will take time. You will have to be patient with yourself. You will have to restrain yourself. You have to believe in yourself. So before we start, I want you to think about why you want to stop. What are your hopes? Dreams? What do you want to achieve?“
What did he want to achieve?
First and foremost, he wanted Osamu back. He wanted their relationship back, maybe even more than that. He wanted to spend his nights with him high on each other and life; not on drugs. He wanted them to be boyfriends. Boyfriends. It was the first time he actually allowed himself to think of it. To give in to the thoughts he tried to push to the back of his mind. He told Komori as much and the latter started to advise.
They set up some ground rules.
1. No more partying.
Suna didn’t mind it that much. Most of his activities were done beforehand anyway, so not going out anymore was just a small change. A relief really, since he didn’t have to see hallucinations of Osamu grinding on other people anymore.
Komori also forbid-no advised him to not go out with teammates anymore, saying that even the smallest temptation could dissuade him. To his luck, Komori offered to deny every after practice meet-up with him.
2. Whenever he felt the need to take drugs or get drunk, he would have to call Komori.
This seemed logical to him. When such a thing occurred, he would be talked through things he could do instead, keeping himself busy. When it would get really bad, Komori would come by and keep him off the thoughts. In order to make it easier to not think about it in the first place, they removed every trace of alcohol or drugs in his apartment and deleted his seller’s numbers.
3. Set up a routine
He didn’t really understand what Komori meant by that. The other just gave him a list and made him write down everything he did every day and then add everything he wanted to do every day.
The list got longer and longer and turned into some kind of bucket list. He felt weird writing down his most personal desires such as wake up next to Osamu or go out to eat with Osamu or hold hands with Osamu. The other’s name graced the page more than once. Nearly every sentence had it in him.
Komori didn’t even look surprised or awkward or showed that it was weird, which made it a little bit better. He even went so far as to tell him that it was nice to have that one person you would do everything for.
Their whole weekend got filled with removing every trace of Suna’s, what Komori likes to call it, old sucky life. They washed all his sheets, opened all the windows to remove the smell, and as that didn’t help, he hung up air fresheners and bought flowers to disguise the smell. Cleaning up his whole apartment took nearly the whole day, but it was worth it. He felt like a new person and he didn’t even do anything yet.
They set up even more ground rules. The list growing longer and longer, but Suna accepted everything, the thought of doing it with Osamu filling every one of his thoughts. He hadn’t talked to the other yet and was nervous to do so. When the time was right, he would show up at his door, sober and healthy.
Turns out that time was nearly a year later.
He had gone through ups and downs.
Crying to Komori at three in the morning, after searching his whole apartment for anything that would ease his mind. Komori just kept on repeating Osamu until Suna started sobbing into his shoulder.
Laughing with Komori, sitting in the other’s living room and watching some stupid movie about penguins.
Shopping together and having a bottle of beer ripped out of his hands after he tried to smuggle it into the cart. Komori did not let him go grocery shopping alone again after that.
Hating Komori for torturing him through these awful months but being more than grateful for the constant pestering and gaining one of the best, most reliable friends he ever had.
Smiling at Osamu, while at one of the other’s family dinners, looking away when the other caught his eye. He had tried to keep it a secret from him. The late-night calls stopped though and it wasn’t like Osamu hadn’t noticed that.
He hadn’t said anything yet and it made Suna jittery now that he was standing in front of the older’s apartment door. His hands were sweating, his heart beating fast. He knocked. No going back now.
The door opened and showed Osamu with only a towel around his lower half and another one around his neck. His hair was still wet and drops were slowly making it down his chest.
“Suna? What are you doing here?“
He swallows once and Osamu motions for him to come inside. Suna follows behind him, closing the door. Scared to look the older in the eyes, he keeps his gaze on his hands, fiddling.
“I just took a shower and was about to eat. Do you want anything? I can make us something. The other day at the restaurant-“
Suna was grateful for the other to not dig too deep into his reason to come over, but he had to get it off his chest.
“I’m sober.“
Osamu just looked at him, brows furrowed.
“For nearly a year now. Eleven months and twelve days actually.“
“You. You are sober.“
It was a statement but sounded like a question. He moved to the couch grabbing a pair of joggers and pulling them on. A hoodie was on him only a second after.
“Yes. I haven’t had anything to drink or took anything. Komori helped me. I was scared to tell you. Couldn’t be too sure of myself, you know.“
Osamu just let him talk. He moved to the kitchen and started on dinner.
“I realised back then that I couldn’t keep on living like that. Living…,“ this was the moment he was scared of, “Living without you.“
He could see Osamu tense and waited. The other’s shoulders raised and lowered slowly. When he didn’t turn around Suna kept talking.
“Komori picked me up. I was staying at his place for a while and then we cleaned mine. You always hated how it smelled. It doesn’t anymore. I even bought flowers,“ he chuckled quietly.
Even though the other hadn’t said anything yet, he felt a weight lifted off his chest. It felt good to tell him. He felt proud of himself. Proud that he was able to change. Proud that he was able to tell Osamu now.
“It was hard. I am not going to lie. I wanted to give up so often. I wanted to crash and burn and die. I wanted my life to be over,“ it was hard admitting this; to Osamu and to himself, “but do you want to know what helped?“
Osamu still hadn’t turned around but his hands were frozen on the countertop and he hadn’t moved in the last few minutes. Suna stood up slowly.
“You ‘Samu. The thought of you helped me. Every time I was trying to end it, to give in, I thought of you. I thought of what we could be, what we could have. I know you told me that you would never want to go back to being really close. Being together.“
Suddenly, Osamu moved. Tears were making their way down the older’s face as he was turning around. He took a few big steps and engulfed him in a hug. His shirt was being soaked with the others’ tears and he could feel his own salty tears.
It felt like it had been forever when Osamu moved back. He was still holding him tightly like it might all be a dream and he would lose him the minute he blinked.
“I do. I really do, Rin. I…I am so unbelievably proud of you. Of what you’ve achieved. I-It would be an honour, an honour to be able to be with you, call you mine.“
And then they were kissing.
After restraining himself for nearly a year and even longer with Osamu, he felt like this might be his new addiction. Kissing Osamu.
He always laughed about when other people would tell him it felt like fireworks or butterflies or whatnot. This moment proved him wrong. He felt like he might never be able to move back, sucked into his own world, where it was just him and Osamu. Just the two of them.
His hand moved to the nape of his neck and grabbed at the hair there. Osamu groaned and it was over for him. He had been longing for this since forever now. Not kissing him directly, but just being close with him. Holding him. He tugged at his hair again and the noise Osamu made, made him see stars.
This was better than every drug he had ever taken, every beer he ever poured down his throat. This was what he had gone through for. This was heaven.
When they both pulled back, heavily breathing, he couldn’t help but grin. Osamu’s eyes were lust-filled and nearly closed. His heart was beating rapidly against the hand he held on his chest.
“Would you do me the honour and be my boyfriend?“
Osamu let out a heavy breath and chuckled. Instead of answering he just pulled Suna in for another kiss.
“Is that a yes?“, Suna asked against his lips, slightly bruised.
“Nah, Rin. It’s a hell yeah.“
They both laughed and Osamu pulled him back into the kitchen.
“Now. Do you want dinner or not? I could think of other things we could be doing instead if you want.“
He was wiggling his eyebrows while he said it, and Suna punched him in the shoulder lightly.
“I would like dinner a lot. Like a real date,“ he thought about it for a moment, then, “Actually no. I want to take you out. Do it right this time. This is just a casual hangout between friends.“
“Boyfriends.“
“Yes. A casual hangout between boyfriends.“
“I like the sound of that. Boyfriends. Now, come on, I’m starving. Let’s make dinner and I can show you all the tricks I learned at the restaurant.“
This was all he could ever dream of. Kissing Osamu. Making dinner with Osamu. Probably falling asleep next to Osamu later on. He blinked, not quite believing his luck, but Osamu was still standing in the kitchen, watching him with his tear-stained hoodie and a smile gracing his lips.
And just because he could, he stepped closer and kissed him again.