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They’d lost the game. Atsumu had been so sure of himself on the court, but then he’d flubbed the ball at the last minute, costing them the final score. He was gutted, as he was always hard on himself if he displayed any skill less than perfection. But he knew there was one thing he could always count on at times like this: Onigiri Miya. He wanted to drown his sorrows in Osamu’s katsudon dinner special, to forget about volleyball for just one night. He headed straight for the diner as soon as he had showered and said goodbye to his dejected MSBY teammates, looking forward to the katsudon sauce that Osamu made in-house; surely that would improve his mood.
It was only late afternoon when he arrived, as they’d played a game during the midday time slot. This was the time when the neighborhood mothers visited the shop with their babies and young children after picking them up from preschool. Atsumu wasn’t interested in kids, but he nodded politely at the mothers who recognized him and took a seat at the end of the dining counter.
“How’s it going, Tsumu?” Osamu called out. “Be there in a sec.”
Atsumu smiled, his mood lightening as he watched the gentle way Osamu interacted with the women. Osamu’s sous-chef emerged from the kitchen and knew immediately what Atsumu wanted, so the blonde played with his phone and sipped on a beer as he waited for his order. One beer turned into another, and then one more as he drowned his sorrows over the game.
“Watch yer drinks, ya scrub,” Osamu said when he finally pulled himself away from the ladies to serve Atsumu his katsudon.
“Yeah, yeah…” Atsumu replied. “I’m fine. Can I get that strawberry cheesecake ya make? Two slices.”
Osamu raised an eyebrow.
“Rough game?” he asked.
Atsumu nodded. “The worst.”
Osamu understood. He sent out the cake and some hot sake for after dinner while he served his regular customers. Atsumu consumed the sugar and rice liquor gratefully, enjoying the masochistic experience of overindulging in food on the rare occasions that he did; he was relieved that his twin always knew what he needed before he knew it himself.
He might have thought that, but he woke up in the middle of the night with a splitting headache. Was it the alcohol? Maybe the excessive amount of sugar?? The fried food??? Curse Osamu for giving in to his childish desires as always, he thought as he reached for the bottle of water on his bedside table. He drank thirstily but still felt unwell after he’d finished. Finally, feeling very sorry for himself, he fell asleep but woke up in the morning with a woozy, clouded mind.
When he tried to get up, he felt weakened and was sweating profusely. He flopped down in the sheets and reached out with his hand, scrambling to find his phone wherever he had tossed it on the bed. After texting his coach that he was sick, he drifted off to sleep again. When he woke up still feeling hot and sticky, it was dark already. He tried to get up, but his head was foggy and his body clammy. He flopped onto his side and passed out again. The following morning, after what felt like an entire day asleep, he woke to sunlight shining through open curtains and a breeze filtering in through an open window. He flinched and tried to turn away.
“Yer awake.”
Atsumu turned to see Osamu picking up a hessian bag full of medical supplies.
“What’s that for?” Atsumu asked.
“Bokuto called me to look after you—told me you were sick and not answerin’ yer phone.”
Atsumu looked at his phone to find numerous messages from Bokuto and Hinata and a few missed calls. It seemed that two days had passed.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, so I’m here ta look after ya. Drink this hydrating formula.”
Atsumu sat up in bed to accept the glass of lemon drink. He sipped it gingerly.
“I’ll make use of your kitchen. Why don’t ya take a shower?”
“Ugh,” Atsumu said to Osamu’s back as his brother left the room.
“Shower!” Osamu called out as he disappeared down the hallway.
Atsumu didn’t want to shower; he was feeling sick. But he was soaked in sweat, so he unwillingly stumbled into the bathroom and took a tepid shower because he felt overheated. Afterward, he changed into the fresh t-shirt and sleep pants that Osamu had laid out for him on the bed. By the time he had lay down and pulled up the covers, Osamu was back.
“Here’s a new remedy I’m tryin’ out—samgyaetang. It’s supposedly good for colds.”
Atsumu realized he was ravenous as he looked at the bowl filled with broth and young poached chicken. Osamu had been experimenting with Korean food, which he was all for, as he picked up some kimchi from the side dish with his chopsticks and popped it into his mouth.
“What’s in this soup? Is the chicken stuffed?”
“There’s lotsa stuff. Ginseng. Garlic. Rice. Jujubes.”
“Oh…I should get better fast from it then.”
“Yup. Why didn’tcha call me for help?”
“I didn’t think of it. I’ve been asleep this whole time,” Atsumu said as he tore into the tender meat with his chopsticks.
He managed to swallow down some of it and drank the soup, then felt an unpleasant head spin.
“Urgh,” he said as he lay back down and closed his eyes.
A moment later, he felt gentle hands smooth out his sweaty forehead, then stick a cooling patch on it.
“You look like ya have the flu,” Osamu said. “Sit up for a sec and take this for the fever. Stay hydrated. I’ll be back to check on you after lunch.”
“Hrrmn?” Atsumu replied as his eyelids felt heavy. “Ya don’t hafta do that….”
“I want to.”
“Okay….” Atsumu replied sleepily.
He lay down to rest his eyes, then quickly passed out. When he woke up, Osamu was back, changing the sheets around him.
“Roll over,” he said.
Atsumu felt slightly embarrassed as he rolled over to the side so that Osamu could remove the soaked sheet and tuck in a new one. He felt a pang of sadness; since leaving home, he’d never really been cared for like this. Only their mother looked after them when they were sick, and when Osamu did it, it felt…good. He didn’t have anyone to care for him, but he felt grateful that someone could help in his weakened state. His heart fluttered unexpectedly as Osamu covered him with soft sheets and a blanket.
“Yer like a mother hen,” he teased rather than admit that Osamu’s behavior was very much welcome.
“Ya can’t look after yerself. Never could,” Osamu replied as he passed Atsumu a bowl of congee. “Eat up. I’ll come back after the shop closes.”
Atsumu nodded at Osamu’s retreating back, heard the front door shut, then turned his attention to the food.
That night, Osamu arrived with an overnight bag.
“Samu, you can’t stay here; you’ll get sick.”
“I’ve been wearing a mask, and I’m washing my hands often,” his brother said as he checked his temperature. “Another fever. It’s pretty high.”
Atsumu felt himself burning up. He fell asleep just as Osamu climbed into bed beside him. Shortly after that, he dreamt he was in a demonic hell. The temperature in the room was suffocating. He could hear the evil invocations and saw the ghastly spirits trapped on his bedroom walls. When he rolled over in bed, he somehow rolled up onto the wall, closer to the spirits near the ceiling.
“AGH!” he screamed as he woke up.
He turned to his side to see Osamu’s sleeping back.
“Hm? Tsumu?” Osamu mumbled as he woke up.
He turned to check Atsumu’s condition.
“I’ll get ya some water. You haven’t been drinkin’ many fluids,” he said.
Atsumu lay on his side as he waited for Osamu to return, eternally grateful that he was there.
Osamu gently supported his back to give him a sip.
“Thanks, Samu,” Atsumu said quietly as he felt overwhelmed with an unfamiliar emotion.
“Anytime, Tsumu,” Osamu said as he kissed his temple.
Atsumu shivered inside from the featherlight touch, felt Osamu squeeze his hand to reassure him, and felt at peace as he drifted off to sleep again. When he woke up during the night, Osamu was spooning him. It felt so pleasant, so perfect, he thought as he snuggled closer to his sleeping brother.
After a few days, Atsumu recovered and was ready to return to practice. He praised Osamu’s cooking and nursing skills at the gym and thanked his friends for sending him his carer. When he returned to Onigiri Miya after practice, he was overjoyed to see the brother who had so kindly looked after him. Osamu was serving a little girl a glass of barley tea. Atsumu’s heart melted when he saw that Osamu had made seaweed faces on the onigiri he handed her. He was so proud of his brother!
He took a seat in his usual spot at the end of the counter and accepted the salted tuna onigiri Osamu passed him.
“Glad to see yer better,” Osamu said with a lopsided, fond smile.
“No thanks to you. Nah, really. Thanks for lookin’ after me.”
“Anytime.”
Atsumu felt suddenly shy and awkward when he thought about how they had become closer over the past week. He decided to change the topic but couldn’t help the desperate craving for Osamu’s full attention.
“Will ya show me how to make those cute kids’ onigiris? Maybe I can make them to impress the ladies.”
“Oh?” Osamu replied with a smirk. “It’s quiet right now, so yeah, I can show ya.”
Atsumu followed him behind the counter as Osamu held out an apron; he shivered as his twin tied the bow at the back, accidentally brushing his hand against his ass.
“Samu!”
“Oops, sorry.”
“Yer forgiven. Now show me the secret.”
“It’s nothing, really.”
Atsumu knew the basics as they each took a handful of rice from the cooker. Then, as they shaped smaller onigiri, Osamu covered Atsumu’s hands to show him exactly how to squeeze the rice.
“Ahhh…haha…um…thanks,” Atsumu said as his mind felt blown by the casual physical contact, something new and different from his usual reactions to his brother.
Osamu spread some seaweed on the counter and handed Atsumu a knife.
“What? You actually made the faces yerself?”
Osamu nodded, took the knife, and cut the face shapes from the seaweed. As he concentrated, Atsumu admired his profile. Since when had Osamu been so stunning? His eyelashes were long, and his eyes focused. Atsumu couldn’t help admiring his twin’s lips, not even listening as Osamu explained the process.
“Your turn,” Osamu said as he handed the knife back, shocking Atsumu out of his reverie.
“Uh, yeah.”
Atsumu self-consciously cut the seaweed shapes as his brother watched.
“No, like this,” Osamu said as he held Atsumu’s hand to cut the outline of a face.
“Ah—AH!” Atsumu said as he felt an electric tingle under his skin where Osamu’s skin touched his own. “Thanks for showin’ me!”
He pulled away abruptly, made a poor effort to cut the seaweed, then presented Osamu with his work. Osamu smiled as he placed the seaweed on the onigiri.
“Very cute, Tsumu. You’ll impress a lotta girls with that.”
Atsumu blushed at the compliment.
“Y-yeah,” he said as he untied his apron.
Osamu leaned in close to lift it over his head, and as he felt Osamu’s breath on his cheek, Atsumu’s heartbeat sped up, and his breath hitched. Osamu had no idea what effect he was having on his brother, and after he hung up the apron, he held a bite-sized onigiri up to Atsumu’s mouth.
“Taste yer own cooking,” he said.
“Uh, no! You eat it!”
“Okay.”
Atsumu instantly regretted that decision as he watched his brother eat his work but smiled when Osamu seemed to enjoy it.
“That face you created made it taste amazing,” Osamu said as Atsumu scooted back out into the restaurant and sat down on his usual stool.
Atsumu quickly steered the topic to something safe—the women who would like eating the onigiri—and he felt things returned to normal between them. However, when he returned home, he turned on his phone camera selfie and looked at his appearance critically…He studied the same face that Osamu had and felt nothing about it. Why was he attracted to Osamu when they looked the same? Was it ego? Why had Osamu paying attention to him changed how he reacted to being spoken to? Was he that attention-starved? But lots of people liked him.
“The fuck?” he said as he irritably tossed his phone onto the bed.
When he woke up in the morning, Atsumu couldn’t remember the dream he had. Instead, he snuggled deeper into his blankets, remembering the sweet sensations of being aroused, hot, and intoxicated by lust. He sleepily reached down to palm the insistent erection in his sleep pants so as not to lose that erotically charged mood.
“Mmm….” he murmured as he slipped his hand under the elastic waistband of his sleepwear.
What had he dreamt about? Sex, obviously…
He rolled onto his back, trying to chase the dream as he stroked himself, feeling so needy so early in the morning—as he often did—and desperate to get himself off. He remembered being pinned down by a hot guy in the fantasy and wondered if he’d dreamt about Bokuto again. Sometimes they fooled around in the locker room when no one was there, and Atsumu did dream of him occasionally because of those sessions. But this dream was different, so much more intimate…He’d felt enveloped, completed, and so alive as some other man held him. He’d been Strong, Possessive, and Safe. Who had it been?
Atsumu grumbled as he lost the thread of the dream, but he still had to deal with his arousal.
“Ngh, ah…” he whispered as he let his head fall back in delight as he pleasured himself.
The feel of excitement from his dream had each stroke of his hand rippling powerful sensation through him, building up as he continued to drag out the feeling of surging sex. It built up like a tidal wave, thick and rolling.
“Ah…AH!” he cried out with surprise as he came unexpectedly, spilling onto his hand and t-shirt.
He groaned as he wiped his hand on the sheets. Why did he do that in bed?
“Messy…” he murmured.
After a pleasant afterglow basking in the nest of sheets, he forced himself to get up and begin his day. When he saw himself in the mirror, he confirmed that the confusion he felt around Osamu the night before was nothing, shrugged, and headed to the MSBY gym.
The following night, he felt irritable. Out of sorts. He couldn’t even be mad at his twin. He was seated at his usual seat at the counter of Onigiri Miya, watching Osamu flirt with customers. He knew that it didn’t mean anything; Osamu was just being polite. He was too unguarded, unaware that the salaryman ordering sushi seconds had his eyes on him. Atsumu didn’t know if his twin had had any gay experiences…It certainly didn’t look like he knew the first thing about it because he was ignorant about how the customer ogled his face and pecs. Atsumu clenched his fists and took an angry sip of green tea. There was only one way to deal with this type of inappropriate behavior.
He stood up and joined the man, who blinked when he noticed the resemblance between him and his twin.
“How’s yer night?” Atsumu said before he nodded to Osamu.
The stranger looked from one of them to the other before noticing Atsumu’s sidelong cruising glance at him.
“It’s good…” he replied slowly.
Atsumu ordered them two glasses of sake. Osamu raised an eyebrow as he watched him strike up an unexpected conversation with the man. Atsumu ignored his brother’s quizzical glances as he dropped subtle hints of interest and flirtation toward the stranger. There was no way this man could have his Osamu—he’d intercept before that could happen. He could tell that his fury and jealousy meant he wasn’t thinking clearly, simply reacting to the situation before him, but he didn’t care; he had to stop the man!
They barely spoke as Atsumu stared his prey down. The man wasn’t his type, but who cared? What was his type? His thoughts felt so disordered; he wasn’t even eating his onigiri as the tension between him and the stranger mounted. Atsumu knew he’d won when the man excused himself to go to the bathroom. When Osamu parted the kitchen noren to talk with the sous-chef about the following day’s menu, Atsumu finally had his chance—he hurried to follow the salaryman to the back of the diner and caught him as he exited the washroom.
“Stop right there,” he said as he pushed the man back into the small bathroom and locked the door behind them. “Ya don’t touch Samu,” he growled.
The salaryman’s eyes widened.
“Uh…fine. What about you?”
Atsumu eyed him with contempt and thought he just might take advantage of a man who’d eyed his precious twin.
“On yer knees, then,” he replied as he pulled down the waistband of sweats to release his cock.
“Mmm, big…” the stranger said appreciatively as he opened his mouth.
Atsumu tapped his cock on the stranger’s awaiting tongue, then pushed his way in between the man’s lips.
“Get it nice and wet,” he commanded softly.
The man nodded. He was experienced, and Atsumu moaned under his breath, thinking about Osamu and how he was protecting him. His thoughts settled on Osamu’s unguarded face as he was sucked off, and he let those thoughts wash over him. It made the whole experience hotter as he pushed himself deeper into the salaryman’s mouth. Just as he was grunting and nearing release, thinking of the beautiful body that the salaryman wanted—Osamu’s—they heard a sharp rap on the door.
“The fuck are ya doin’, TSUMU?!” his twin snarled through the wood.
“Shit!” Atsumu exclaimed as he tucked his cock back into his sweats. “Be out in a sec!”
“OPEN UP, YA CUNT!” Osamu shouted from the other side of the door.
Atsumu knew he couldn’t get out of this one, so he slowly opened the door. He was surprised when Osamu dragged him out by the front of his shirt as the salaryman stood up.
“Thought you were actin’ fishy! Don’t fucking do that shit in my restaurant!”
“I’ll leave my payment on the counter!!!” the salaryman said as he hurried down the hallway, stumbling in his rush to leave.
Neither twin cared about his role in the situation.
“I’m protecting you, ya ungrateful jerk!” Atsumu shouted.
“Yeah? Well, don’t let anyone touch you!” Osamu yelled back.
“Me? What?! Why?”
Atsumu didn’t understand Osamu’s reaction; shouldn’t he be worried about himself? He had no idea what to do when Osamu wrapped him up in his arms and buried his nose in his hair.
“Just…Don’t.” Osamu whispered.
As Atsumu stood there silently with Osamu holding him close, the dream from the previous morning came back to him…The man he had dreamt of was Osamu. Osamu…his own brother…who had completed him and made him feel sinfully erotic. Osamu’s arms around him triggered the fantasy memories he was now unsure what to do with. He shivered with the realization, which only made Osamu pull him in closer. After a long, drawn-out, and very confusing hug, Osamu finally let go.
“Behave yourself, Tsumu,” he said solemnly. “You get yerself inta some silly situations, ya scrub.”
“Um…Okay. Thanks, Samu,” Atsumu replied meekly.
He wasn’t sure what he’d done to calm Osamu down, but he was relieved that his brother’s anger had passed. Osamu kissed his temple, and Atsumu felt the softness of Osamu’s lips against his skin. He didn’t want to leave his brother’s side after that and returned home with a heavy heart, a takeaway dinner, and a bottle of sake tucked under his arm. As he caught the train home, he realized, with a sickening feeling, that he was in love with his twin.
A couple of months passed. Once he had established that he loved his other half, Atsumu had vowed to visit him less often until he got through this ‘phase’, but he ended up at Onigiri Miya every single night of the week instead of the usual two or three nights out of seven. He stayed late, glared at all the customers who lingered with his brother, and tried to find as many excuses as possible to ‘help’ in the kitchen to stay there longer. Osamu had been surprised at first but was very happy for Atsumu to help; he spoiled Atsumu even more because of it, which was most welcome. Atsumu wishfully read hidden meanings into all of the extra attention, imagining romantic scenarios at home when he was up late at night thinking about his brother.
As the weeks passed, he began to believe that his feelings were reciprocated…It was the subtle touches, the lingering glances, and the unguarded way that Osamu looked at him, as though every day he was seeing him for the first time. He let Atsumu sleep over at his flat on the weekends and allowed ‘brotherly’ cuddling on the couch—Atsumu fell deeper in love with Osamu with each hair ruffle and affectionate punch on the shoulder, leaned on him and pretended to fall asleep in his arms during movies just to be close.
Soon, Atsumu decided that he had to make some sort of first move. At this point, he was sure that the love he felt was returned. On the train on the way to the diner on a cold evening, he glanced at the ads hanging above him and noticed that Valentine’s Day was approaching. Perfect! It was a date that could be seen as a friendship event or a romantic holiday. He’d give Osamu a gift and just see how it was interpreted. He wanted Osamu to wrap him in a hug and proclaim his love for him, and that motivated him to spontaneously duck down to the shops on the eve of the thirteenth to look for chocolate. He found an expensive chocolatier still open where he hand-selected a small gourmet assortment fit for a king, then returned home with the package to wait for the day to come.
Valentine’s Day was sunny, and a weekend, so Atsumu did his regular morning training and then dressed to head over to Onigiri Miya. He had hyped himself up during his reps at the gym and felt utterly smitten as he wrapped the chocolate box in some colored paper. As he left home, he checked his appearance in the mirror and was confident in his looks that day because Osamu was drop-dead gorgeous in his eyes; he was certain Osamu would find him hot, too.
It was nearing lunchtime when he disembarked at the train station near Onigiri Miya, brimming with excitement. He walked up the familiar street, past the bakery where he bought Osamu pastries for his breaks, past the supermarket where he bought snacks for video nights with Osamu, and past the Korean restaurant they ordered delivery from. He slowed down when he noticed a few ladies milling in front of the store. What was going on? He saw the door to the diner slide open and thought it wasn’t opening hours yet…
The women outside were regular customers of Onigiri Miya, holding pretty boxes or shopping bags, and had a sinking feeling that they’d had the same idea as him…because Osamu was nice to everyone. As he watched Osamu bow his head and accept gifts from his female admirers, Atsumu’s heart broke into tiny pieces. He wasn’t special to Osamu! Nothing was right or normal about what he’d been thinking or imagining doing with his twin. He hid behind a lamppost until Osamu slid the door shut, probably to get the restaurant ready for service.
Taking the next few steps to the alley beside the restaurant, Atsumu bit his lip to keep from crying as he tossed the chocolates he’d lovingly wrapped straight into the dumpster beside the building. He wiped away the stray tears running down his cheeks as he regretted every sick thought he’d ever had about his twin and cursed his confused heart. Nothing about this situation was okay—he had to hide and lick his twisted wounds before seeing Osamu again. With a heavy heart and a rising sense of hysteria, he turned in the opposite direction of the shop and vowed to take some time away to get himself back into order.
After a busy Valentine’s Day, Osamu locked up and carried the bags of rubbish out to the back. He was just about to throw them into the dumpster when something caught his eye. A brightly packaged box, sticking out like a sore thumb among the sea of black. He almost didn’t want to fish it out—aside from the fact it was already garbage, Osamu had a suspicion its contents contained a sweet he was tired of seeing.
Osamu was grateful for all the gifts he received today, he really was, and it warmed his heart to know that so many people thought of him and his restaurant on this day, however… It was really too much. One or two boxes might’ve been okay, but multiple? He had more chocolate than he could do with. He’d given most of them away to his employees, but saved some for his pig twin. He should’ve been grateful that the owner of this box took the initiative to throw them out. Instead, he was incredibly curious as to who the intended giftee was, and who it was from.
When Osamu looked at the note carefully stuck onto the package, his heart sank.
‘Happy Valentine’s Day, Osamu.
From your twin, Atsumu.’
Atsumu? But Osamu hadn’t even seen him today, he surely would’ve noticed if…
Before he could even think, Osamu’s feet started taking him towards his brother’s apartment. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind. When had Atsumu come? Why didn’t he say hello? What made him throw the chocolates away?
Osamu took the box with him—if he was going to confront Atsumu, he needed proof. As he waited for the traffic light, he tore open the wrapping and lifted the lid. His eyes widened when he recognised the chocolates, he knew they couldn’t have been cheap. It made everything all the more confusing. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around why Atsumu would want to gift him chocolates in the first place, never mind why he picked such expensive ones.
He took his frustration out on Atsumu’s door, knocking with tremendous force.
“Oi, open up, ya scrub!”
The door was pulled open at once, and Osamu barely caught himself in time so that his next blow didn’t land on his brother’s face.
Atsumu looked like utter shit. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he didn’t seem happy to see Osamu at all. “Whaddya want?”
It didn’t appear as though he was going to invite Osamu in, so Osamu took it upon himself and shouldered past his twin, stepping into the living space. Osamu was relieved to find that it wasn’t a mess, but he spotted a bunch of crumpled tissues on the couch, and the TV paused on some romance movie.
“Really, Tsumu?” Osamu couldn’t help but tease him. When they were growing up, Atsumu was adamant he didn’t like the genre. He would deny it to anyone who asked, pretending he hadn’t seen the latest releases. Osamu, having lived with him his entire life, knew exactly how big of a lie that was. Particularly as he was the one Atsumu dragged along to watch those movies. In hindsight, it was probably weird to watch a romantic film with your twin brother, and maybe that was why Atsumu always kept it a secret, but Osamu didn’t know. It seemed he didn’t know much about his brother.
Atsumu only looked away, not rising to the bait for once. He repeated, “What do you want?”
Osamu frowned. What was going on with him? Seeing that his brother wasn’t his usual talkative self, he decided to cut to the chase. He held out the box he found in the trash. He didn’t say anything, simply waiting for Atsumu to notice it.
Once he did, his eyes widened. He reached out to grab it, but Osamu pulled it back out of reach. “Wha— Where’d ya get that?”
“So ya recognise it.”
“Of course I—” Atsumu bristled. “It’s got my fuckin’ name on it, Samu.”
Usually, once Atsumu got angry, Osamu’s temper would quickly flare too. But not today. He was going to control it, because he was going to get some answers. “It has my name on it too. So what was it doing in the trash?”
Atsumu stayed silent. He looked away again. It was as if he couldn’t bear to look Osamu in the eyes—that whatever his reasons were, they made him want to hide from Osamu. And that… That made Osamu furious, quite frankly. Because they were supposed to be able to tell each other anything. More than anyone else in the world, they should’ve been able to trust and confide in the other.
What, then, could Atsumu be hiding?
Despite Osamu wanting to stay level-headed, he felt his composure slipping away with each second that passed. Each second of Atsumu not looking at him, of Atsumu’s lip trembling, as if he was going to cry. Osamu had had enough.
“Answer me!”
The outburst startled Atsumu. It was so loud, in the previously silent room. He finally turned to Osamu, and this time he held nothing back. “Whaddya want me to say, Samu? Why do ya think I wanted to give ya chocolates? Why does anyone give chocolates on Valentine’s Day?”
Osamu’s head spun. He knew there was some deeper meaning behind Atsumu’s words, but he couldn’t find them. It made him frantic—once upon a time he and his brother were on the same page for everything, once upon a time it felt like they could read each other’s minds.
“I don’t know,” he confessed, when he couldn’t come up with a better answer. “Because it’s tradition? I received a whole buncha chocolates today.” He held up the bag he had been carrying with his other hand. “Look, I even brought some home for ya.”
Atsumu knocked them out of Osamu’s hand and crushed them beneath his feet. It made Osamu see red. Even if the chocolates had been too much and he ended up giving most of them away, he still appreciated the gifts. They were store-bought, sure, but there was thought behind them. Every person who gave Osamu chocolates today put their time and money into it.
This was something Atsumu should’ve understood—he went out and bought chocolates for Osamu, after all. And just because he decided not to give them to Osamu, did not mean he got to destroy the ones that had been given.
What right did he have?
Osamu grabbed the front of Atsumu’s shirt. While Atsumu was often loud with his speech, Osamu spoke with his actions. Most of their physical fights had been started by him, provoked by Atsumu’s words. He wondered whether this would end up the same.
“What the fuck is wrong with ya?”
Atsumu screamed back, “What’s wrong with you! Why can’t ya see what’s right in fronta ya! Those women gave ya chocolates because they want ya!”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Osamu immediately replied on instinct, annoyed. “All they wanted was—” But then he stopped, finally taking a moment to think. Just now, Atsumu had said… And before, too… He was— He talked about the women’s motivations, but they were really his motivations, weren’t they? Why does anyone… Those women…
Atsumu.
Oh.
Atsumu watched as the realisation dawned on his face. Then he clapped, voice devoid of any joy or humour when he said, “Congratulations. Ya figured it out all on yer own, I didn’t even haveta say anythin’.”
“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, Tsumu!” The weight of the revelation was overwhelming. Osamu found it hard to breathe. “How was I s’pposed to know— any of this?”
“I don’t fucking know, actually, because I started to think maybe ya felt the same way!” Atsumu threw his hands up and walked a few steps away. His voice was smaller when he continued, “Because you kept… touching me and looking at me.” He scoffed. “Guess I know I was wrong now.”
Osamu stalked up to Atsumu and forcibly turned him around. “Tsumu.” His voice sounded dark and dangerous even to himself, and it made Atsumu flinch. “I’m not the one foolin’ around with every second person that looks my way.”
“Why do ya think I do that!” Atsumu exclaimed. He looked so frustrated, and Osamu could see tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “This isn’t new, Samu. At first I thought… But no. It’s been a pattern our whole lives. I love— I’m in love with—”
Osamu kissed him. He couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t hold himself back when the one thing he wanted his entire life was right there within his grasp. Atsumu was right, it had been a pattern. Which was why Osamu was under the impression he never stood a chance. He resigned himself to his fate long ago. He thought if he and Atsumu were truly attuned to each other, then surely Atsumu would’ve known how Osamu felt. And if they were truly in sync, then surely Atsumu would’ve felt the same way.
But years went by with not an inkling of Osamu’s feelings being reciprocated. They went by with Atsumu having one-night stands, hooking up with new people every other week, and eventually Osamu stopped bothering to learn their names.
“I’m in love with ya too,” Osamu confessed when they next broke for air. It felt so good to say out loud, his heart felt like it was going to burst.
“Fuck.” Atsumu captured Osamu’s lips with his own again. He slipped his tongue inside Osamu’s mouth, and it felt every bit as good as Osamu had imagined.
Osamu slowly backed Atsumu against a wall, kissing him with renewed vigour, reaching down with a hand to palm his brother through his pants. Gods, he was touching Atsumu’s cock. Not directly, but still. Osamu felt his own cock harden at the thought. He needed more.
“Suck—” Whatever Atsumu wanted to say got swallowed up by a moan. It was such an erotic sound, and Osamu wanted to drink it from him. Atsumu put a hand on his chest, however, stopping him from moving any closer. And then he flexed his fingers, as if groping Osamu’s pectoral muscles. “Fuck, yer tits are so— Suck my cock, Samu.”
Before Osamu could comment on Atsumu being bossy even now, he was being pushed down onto his knees. Atsumu unceremoniously shoved down his pants and underwear, and all of a sudden, a cock was right in front of Osamu’s face.
Not just any cock, but Atsumu’s erect cock.
Osamu licked his lips and immediately enclosed his lips around the head. There would be more opportunities for him to admire it, he was certain. For the time being, he was content learning the shape of it, figuring out how to take it all in his mouth. Osamu heard a thunk from above—Atsumu must’ve hit his head against the wall.
“I was imagining this,” Atsumu revealed moments later. Osamu had begun bobbing his head, sucking his twin off in earnest. He wasn’t really focusing on what Atsumu was saying. “When ya walked in on me and that guy that time, I was picturin’ you sucking me off.”
That got Osamu’s attention. He pulled off Atsumu’s cock, ignoring his whine of protest. He jabbed a finger into his thigh and said, “Don’t fuckin’ do that again.”
Atsumu was watching Osamu’s expression carefully. And then, it looked as though a lightbulb had gone off in his mind. “You were— That was jealousy, wasn’t it?” Osamu glanced away, ashamed. It hadn’t been one of his finest moments. “If I’d known, I would’ve gotten caught more often. Or at least earlier.”
Osamu’s blood boiled at the thought. At the fact that even now, his brother wasn’t seeming to care about his health or well-being. “Do ya know how it feels, to see ya engage in such reckless behaviour like that? To walk in on ya hookin’ up with someone else, in my restaurant? Or to see ya drink yerself to abandon, to not know where ya were for two days? I would keep a leash on ya if I could, I would—”
“Enough.” Atsumu cut in.
It shocked Osamu back to clarity. When he replayed his words back in his mind, he was horrified. A leash? What had he been thinking? He wouldn’t blame Atsumu if he no longer wanted him, but wanted to apologise regardless.
Before he could, however, Atsumu pulled him up and began pushing him towards the couch. “Come on, I wantcha to fuck me now.”
Only then did Osamu realise that Atsumu liked what he said. Of course. Osamu let out a small laugh. Even if they struggled to understand each other now, they were still the same person deep down. In other words, they were both just as fucked up.
Atsumu pointed Osamu towards the sex drawer he kept in his living room, then quickly discarded his clothes and got himself in position. He held onto the back of the couch, knelt on the cushion, and pushed his ass out. Osamu’s cock leaked in his pants, and he swiftly undressed as well.
Pulling open the drawer, Osamu was met with condoms, lube, and a variety of sex toys. Fuck. He wondered how much of it was simply used to masturbate. Did Atsumu ever put porn on the TV and play with himself in front of it? Or perhaps he used it as a mirror, watching himself in the reflection, possibly even imagining it was Osamu. He would have to ask later. The thought that Atsumu kept the items nearby for convenience when he had people over also crossed his mind, but he didn’t let himself dwell on it for too long.
Still, he couldn’t resist telling Atsumu, “No more stupid shit, okay? If we’re gonna do this, it’s just gonna be me.”
Osamu slicked up his fingers and pressed two inside Atsumu at once. The sound his brother made in response went straight to Osamu’s cock. Osamu then began fingering his brother, watching his reactions, making note of the spots that seemed to make him moan particularly loudly.
“Whore,” Osamu whispered, somewhat affectionately. A whore for Osamu only, starting now.
“Yes, yes,” Atsumu said in a rush. “Just you, Samu, come on, put yer cock in me, I wanna be fucked, I want—”
The sound of Osamu opening a condom packet interrupted Atsumu’s rambling. He turned his head back to look at Osamu, confused.
Osamu was unfazed, rolling the condom onto his cock and giving himself a few tugs to get to full hardness. Once he lined himself up with Atsumu’s entrance, the blunt head of his cock making its presence known, he acknowledged his brother’s expression.
“I’m not fuckin’ ya raw till ya get tested.” It was plain and simple. Atsumu looked a bit sheepish and also offended, but Osamu wasn’t going to put his health at risk. Before Atsumu could complain, Osamu pushed himself inside.
It was everything Osamu ever imagined, and more. A hole was a hole, and Osamu would always get pleasure from that regardless of who or what it belonged to, but the fact it was his twin’s hole he penetrated, something so forbidden and immoral and taboo… Osamu’s cock was harder than it’d ever been, and he also felt as though he was going to blow his load faster than when he wrapped a hand around himself for the first time.
Luckily, he was an adult now, and had more control over when he ejaculated. He steadied himself once his cock disappeared fully inside his brother’s body, taking a few moments to compose himself. It was surreal, seeing Atsumu’s blond hair in front of him, connected to the torso and waist he was holding. He almost couldn’t believe it, that his wildest dream had come true.
“Samu.” Atsumu’s voice saying his name and squeezing around him was a reminder that it really was happening, that this wasn’t just another one of Osamu’s sick fantasies. “Move already.”
This time Osamu called Atsumu out on being bossy. “Give me a second, fuck. I haven’t— done this in a while.”
It would be a foolish notion for Osamu to save himself for Atsumu, when he’d been certain it would never happen. And frankly, pining after his twin made Osamu more sexually frustrated than he knew how to deal with. He didn’t particularly want to sleep with other people, but he had to get his urges out somehow.
In more recent months though, he hadn’t had to. Because he was spending more time with Atsumu. He let himself indulge, touching him here and there, doing more than he usually would’ve let himself, but Atsumu hadn’t seemed to mind. The minute Atsumu left, Osamu was jerking himself off furiously, or fucking his one fleshlight, until he came with his brother’s name on his lips.
Osamu might not have liked his brother’s proclivity for sleeping around, but he was sure it did wondrous things for his stamina. That, and the fact he was a professional athlete. Osamu had his work cut out for him, he was certain.
He dragged his cock out of Atsumu before thrusting it back in. He repeated this a few times until he built up a steady rhythm, fucking Atsumu with all his might. Just because he didn’t have sex often, didn’t mean he wasn’t any good at it. Once he got going, he got going.
And Atsumu was so receptive. He took Osamu’s cock like he was made for it, he cried out for it. Osamu would’ve thought all of his lewd sounds were just for show, but he was slowly coming to the realisation that his brother was just like this. He really was a slut.
“Yeah, ya like that?” Osamu wasn’t really one for dirty talk, but Atsumu was really stroking his ego. “Tell me how much ya like my cock.”
“Mn— I love it, Samu. I love yer cock, it fucks me so good, ya fuck me so good, I’m—”
“Ya like taking yer little brother’s cock, don’tcha?”
Atsumu nodded, letting out a sob.
“I wonder how many other big brothers cry on their little brothers’ cocks.”
“I— We’re twins, Samu.”
“Funny time to bring it up, when ya usually won’t shut up about yer older sibling status. Then, do ya think that other twins fuck like this too? That they’ve begged for their twins to put their cocks in them?”
Atsumu’s response was unintelligible, even to Osamu. He pretended to understand, anyway.
“You’re right, it’s only you. You’re the only one that’s deranged enough to do it.” Osamu groaned. He was getting close. “But you’re lucky I’m just as fucked up. Ya get that now, don’tcha? There’s no one else for us in the world.”
“No one else,” Atsumu repeated, sounding breathless. “Only— Samu, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—”
Osamu wasn’t sure if this was another one of their weird twin things, but they came at the same time. For a moment Osamu regretted using a condom, he wished to feel his come flood Atsumu’s insides, and watch it drip out of him after. On the positive side, at least he wasn’t contributing to the mess Atsumu had already made on the couch. He wondered how Atsumu was going to clean it.
They stayed connected for a moment longer, basking in the afterglow of their orgasms. Then Atsumu twisted around, Osamu’s cock falling out of him. He removed Osamu’s condom and tied it off, but didn’t immediately discard it. Osamu narrowed his eyes, however he wasn’t going to ask—he did not want to know what his twin was going to do with it.
Atsumu lay back on the couch after and beckoned for Osamu to join him. It wasn’t very comfortable, squishing their two adult bodies onto the narrow piece of furniture, but they made it work. Osamu was already starting to drift off, the fatigue of the day setting in.
Before closing his eyes he spotted a calendar on the opposite wall, and mumbled, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Tsumu.”
Osamu felt nervous, waiting for Atsumu to finish practice. He fiddled with the box of chocolates in his hand, second-guessing himself for the hundredth time today. They didn’t have much of a chance to talk last night. Nothing that wasn’t pertaining to sex, anyway.
Sex, that Osamu had, with Atsumu. Gods. What had they done?
They headed their separate ways in the morning—they still had to carry on with their ‘normal’ lives, despite the momentous event that had transpired between them. It kept replaying in Osamu’s mind though, to the point he couldn’t focus on his work. So he left early and came up with a plan. The first thing he had to do was find the same chocolatier Atsumu got his chocolates from and purchase a box. Then, Osamu would give them to his brother. He needed Atsumu to know that he meant it. When he said I’m in love with ya too, he meant every word.
Atsumu was chatting happily with his teammates as they exited the building, and Osamu felt his heart rate pick up. He knew he should call out to his twin, make his presence known in some way, but he felt stuck to the spot. What if Atsumu regretted it? What if it was all some kind of sick joke?
Soon Atsumu spotted Osamu, eyes widening with surprise. He turned to his teammates and waved goodbye, before jogging over to Osamu. He had a frown on his face, looking Osamu up and down.
“Samu? What’s wrong?”
Instead of replying like any normal person, Osamu instead thrust out the box of chocolates he bought towards his brother.
Atsumu took it slowly, still watching Osamu, still lost. When he finally glanced down and recognised where the chocolates were from, however, his expression changed into one of understanding. He smiled at Osamu, eyes shining with tears. Osamu gave him a small grin back.
“Why’s it that everyone gives me chocolate but doesn’t expect to receive any in return?” Osamu asked when Atsumu kept staring at the box with wonder.
“Because it’s the wrong holiday, dumbass,” Atsumu responded distractedly. “You’re meant to return the favour next month, not the next day.”
Osamu hummed. “But technically, ya didn’t actually give me chocolates. I did, even if they were a day late, so you’re the one who’ll haveta return the favour on White Day.”
Atsumu rolled his eyes at him.
“Can we…” Osamu began nervously. “Can we go back to mine? To talk?”
“Yeah, sure.”
They began heading towards Osamu’s place. Atsumu was saying something—how training went, going by his hand gestures, but Osamu wasn’t comprehending any of it. He was trying to figure out what to say, what to do. He wasn’t going to let go of Atsumu now that he finally had him, but they would need to work out boundaries. They both had careers they were putting at risk, and as Osamu started listing all of the potential troubles that could arise in his head, he started to wonder whether it would be worth it after all.
At that moment, Atsumu bumped his shoulder against Osamu’s. When Osamu looked at him, Atsumu put his hand next to Osamu’s. It was just a brush, a fleeting moment, but Osamu felt the imprint of Atsumu’s hand in his own. And then he felt his pinky, not quite linked, not quite disconnected.
A promise, all the same.
Everything would be okay.
They would be okay.