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softpunkssuna rintarou & miya osamu // ~1.5k
> Sentiments shared while it rains.
“If you don’t change the song right now,” Suna begins. “I’ll throw your phone out the window.”
Osamu gives him a long look before his hand reaches for the phone and hits the playback button, effectively rewinding the song to the start. He lies down on the hard wooden flooring that’s so old that it makes creaking sounds and Suna can’t believe it’s still considered stable despite the years that have passed. Osamu closes his eyes and pointedly ignores the sour look Suna gives him because this is the fifth time they’ve been listening to this song and—
“This shit is depressing as hell,” Suna complains, but despite his words and his threat, he doesn’t move an inch, too comfortable with his current position to move. He pulls his knees close to his chest and perches his chin on top, watching the downpour happening outside like it's actually something interesting and not an often occurrence. This is not how he planned on spending his Saturday afternoon, but it's not like he can go outside until the rain has dissipated.
"Matches the weather," Osamu reasons casually. Suna's eyes trail to the careless way Osamu's legs dangle off the edge, fearless not only in the face of the height but also from how the lower half of his body is being hit by the rain. Suna wonders if people can catch holds from only a portion of their body getting wet. Then he remembers that Aran said idiots can't catch colds. "Dontcha know the importance of settin' up the vibe, Rin?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Suna says, frowning as he continues staring at the rain. The music is grating. "This is so boring. What do you even do up here?"
"Not go pining for the sky, for one," Osamu replies hotly. Suna gives a dry look. "I dunno. Whenever 'Tsumu and I would fight with Mom and Dad, we'd hide out here 'till they told us to come out. We had lots of screamin' matches here too." He points to the wall. "'Tsumu and I used to write down all the shit we wanted to do there."
Suna stands up and makes his way to the tree house's wall to see what Osamu is referring to. The wood is old. At first glance, Suna sees nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that makes it particularly different from everything else here. He squints, trying to find any words, and finally stumbles across some, carved into the wood roughly with poor penmanship. It's easy to see their growth through the text though—the sloppy jobs telling of the fact that they'd been younger when they wrote them down, and the more precise writings evident of how they'd been much older.
"The marks have faded," Suna comments, running a hand over one of the carved texts. He can't make out everything there, and he thinks some of the ones he thought he'd found are just scratches made by accident instead of anything intentional. Fly a kite. it reads. Prank a teacher. Get a dog. Go abroad.
"Kiss a boy," He reads aloud. "Bold. Was that you or 'Tsumu?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," Osamu says, before sneezing abruptly. Rain always gives him allergies, to the point where sometimes he'd even miss class depending on how bad the downpour would be that day. He never tells Suna when he'll be absent, so Suna has to look at the sky and figure out from there. Osamu has never made things easy for him, but maybe Suna likes it, deep down, because he's still here.
The song is still playing. Outside, the rain is subsiding, slowly but surely. Suna doesn't mention the fact that engraved beside the words 'kiss a boy' is the question, how 'bout Suna? He doesn't think about where it might have all started there, here, in this place that Osamu had taken him to.
Instead, Suna turns to him and nudges his head with his foot. Osamu immediately turns and bats it away, muttering something about how gross Suna is. Suna ignores him. "Hey," he says.
Osamu groans. "What? I'm tryna enjoy the weather."
"The weather that's making you sick. Sure," Suna deadpans. "You dick. You dragged me all the way here when there's nothing to do."
Osamu sticks his tongue out at him. Suna rolls his eyes. "Stop whinin'. Stuff like this, you gotta find ways to kill time instead of lettin' it come to you." His eyes glance at the world outside. "We can't do shit 'till the rain stops anyway. And I got a few beer cans lyin' 'round here somewhere. If you're that bored, you can drink those."
"How long have they been in here?"
Osamu shrugs. "Dunno. A year?"
"Gross." Suna pulls a face, which makes Osamu laugh. "You just want to poison me, don't you?"
"Will I get some inheritance if I do?"
In response, Suna grabs him by the collar, lifting him up. Despite his position, Osamu is quick to retaliate, and pulls Suna down hard enough and immediately pulls his leg back from the edge so it's safe for the both of them. They tussle a bit, but it's Osamu who ultimately gains the upper hand, finally managing to pin Suna to the ground. The latter groans when he feels something wet stain his pants because Osamu's legs are holding him down.
"I'm gonna catch a cold," he says.
"Idiots don't catch colds," Osamu points out. Suna tries to wiggle his way out of Osamu's hold, but it's half-hearted at best because Osamu's grip on his wrists feels warm and it's not a bad feeling. Grinning, Osamu dips his head, and Suna almost thinks he's about to kiss him. Instead, Osamu rests his head right next to his own before sighing. "You're right," he eventually says, letting go of Suna's wrists.
Even with some freedom, Suna doesn't move, hands still splayed above him. "About what?"
"This really is a sad song." Osamu sighs. "Maybe too sad for a one year anniversary."
"Why do you think I wanted something else?"
"We're gonna graduate soon though," says Osamu. "I dunno. It fit the mood."
"The fact that you were getting mopey about it?" Suna questions. Osamu doesn't say anything, and Suna nudges him to lay on his side. After a second, Osamu does, and it's only now that Suna realizes how uncomfortable it feels to lie down on the wood. He ignores it and turns his head to Osamu. "Graduating doesn't mean it's the end, stupid."
"I know that." He still looks sullen though.
"That's not a cute look on you," Suna tells him, but he pinches Osamu's cheek anyway. Immediately, Osamu scowls and pushes Suna's away. It makes Suna laugh, because at least he got to wipe off that look on the other's face. "Hey."
"What?"
"Play a happier song," Suna insists.
"Why should I?"
"Because," he starts. "I'm happy."
Osamu is quiet. Suna almost thinks he's left Osamu speechless by the honest admission, but then he says.
"You were just complainin' 'bout how there was nothin' to do."
Suna closes his eyes. He doesn't know why he even tries. "Just shut up and do it before I chuck your phone out the window."
"Fine." He can hear Osamu get up and shuffle to wherever his phone is. "Suna."
"What?"
"I'm happy too."
Suna opens his eyes and looks at him. Osamu smiles slightly. Just as a happier tune starts to float in, a brighter light filters in the room, and the rain has finally cleared.
> Sentiments shared while it rains.
“If you don’t change the song right now,” Suna begins. “I’ll throw your phone out the window.”
Osamu gives him a long look before his hand reaches for the phone and hits the playback button, effectively rewinding the song to the start. He lies down on the hard wooden flooring that’s so old that it makes creaking sounds and Suna can’t believe it’s still considered stable despite the years that have passed. Osamu closes his eyes and pointedly ignores the sour look Suna gives him because this is the fifth time they’ve been listening to this song and—
“This shit is depressing as hell,” Suna complains, but despite his words and his threat, he doesn’t move an inch, too comfortable with his current position to move. He pulls his knees close to his chest and perches his chin on top, watching the downpour happening outside like it's actually something interesting and not an often occurrence. This is not how he planned on spending his Saturday afternoon, but it's not like he can go outside until the rain has dissipated.
"Matches the weather," Osamu reasons casually. Suna's eyes trail to the careless way Osamu's legs dangle off the edge, fearless not only in the face of the height but also from how the lower half of his body is being hit by the rain. Suna wonders if people can catch holds from only a portion of their body getting wet. Then he remembers that Aran said idiots can't catch colds. "Dontcha know the importance of settin' up the vibe, Rin?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Suna says, frowning as he continues staring at the rain. The music is grating. "This is so boring. What do you even do up here?"
"Not go pining for the sky, for one," Osamu replies hotly. Suna gives a dry look. "I dunno. Whenever 'Tsumu and I would fight with Mom and Dad, we'd hide out here 'till they told us to come out. We had lots of screamin' matches here too." He points to the wall. "'Tsumu and I used to write down all the shit we wanted to do there."
Suna stands up and makes his way to the tree house's wall to see what Osamu is referring to. The wood is old. At first glance, Suna sees nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that makes it particularly different from everything else here. He squints, trying to find any words, and finally stumbles across some, carved into the wood roughly with poor penmanship. It's easy to see their growth through the text though—the sloppy jobs telling of the fact that they'd been younger when they wrote them down, and the more precise writings evident of how they'd been much older.
"The marks have faded," Suna comments, running a hand over one of the carved texts. He can't make out everything there, and he thinks some of the ones he thought he'd found are just scratches made by accident instead of anything intentional. Fly a kite. it reads. Prank a teacher. Get a dog. Go abroad.
"Kiss a boy," He reads aloud. "Bold. Was that you or 'Tsumu?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," Osamu says, before sneezing abruptly. Rain always gives him allergies, to the point where sometimes he'd even miss class depending on how bad the downpour would be that day. He never tells Suna when he'll be absent, so Suna has to look at the sky and figure out from there. Osamu has never made things easy for him, but maybe Suna likes it, deep down, because he's still here.
The song is still playing. Outside, the rain is subsiding, slowly but surely. Suna doesn't mention the fact that engraved beside the words 'kiss a boy' is the question, how 'bout Suna? He doesn't think about where it might have all started there, here, in this place that Osamu had taken him to.
Instead, Suna turns to him and nudges his head with his foot. Osamu immediately turns and bats it away, muttering something about how gross Suna is. Suna ignores him. "Hey," he says.
Osamu groans. "What? I'm tryna enjoy the weather."
"The weather that's making you sick. Sure," Suna deadpans. "You dick. You dragged me all the way here when there's nothing to do."
Osamu sticks his tongue out at him. Suna rolls his eyes. "Stop whinin'. Stuff like this, you gotta find ways to kill time instead of lettin' it come to you." His eyes glance at the world outside. "We can't do shit 'till the rain stops anyway. And I got a few beer cans lyin' 'round here somewhere. If you're that bored, you can drink those."
"How long have they been in here?"
Osamu shrugs. "Dunno. A year?"
"Gross." Suna pulls a face, which makes Osamu laugh. "You just want to poison me, don't you?"
"Will I get some inheritance if I do?"
In response, Suna grabs him by the collar, lifting him up. Despite his position, Osamu is quick to retaliate, and pulls Suna down hard enough and immediately pulls his leg back from the edge so it's safe for the both of them. They tussle a bit, but it's Osamu who ultimately gains the upper hand, finally managing to pin Suna to the ground. The latter groans when he feels something wet stain his pants because Osamu's legs are holding him down.
"I'm gonna catch a cold," he says.
"Idiots don't catch colds," Osamu points out. Suna tries to wiggle his way out of Osamu's hold, but it's half-hearted at best because Osamu's grip on his wrists feels warm and it's not a bad feeling. Grinning, Osamu dips his head, and Suna almost thinks he's about to kiss him. Instead, Osamu rests his head right next to his own before sighing. "You're right," he eventually says, letting go of Suna's wrists.
Even with some freedom, Suna doesn't move, hands still splayed above him. "About what?"
"This really is a sad song." Osamu sighs. "Maybe too sad for a one year anniversary."
"Why do you think I wanted something else?"
"We're gonna graduate soon though," says Osamu. "I dunno. It fit the mood."
"The fact that you were getting mopey about it?" Suna questions. Osamu doesn't say anything, and Suna nudges him to lay on his side. After a second, Osamu does, and it's only now that Suna realizes how uncomfortable it feels to lie down on the wood. He ignores it and turns his head to Osamu. "Graduating doesn't mean it's the end, stupid."
"I know that." He still looks sullen though.
"That's not a cute look on you," Suna tells him, but he pinches Osamu's cheek anyway. Immediately, Osamu scowls and pushes Suna's away. It makes Suna laugh, because at least he got to wipe off that look on the other's face. "Hey."
"What?"
"Play a happier song," Suna insists.
"Why should I?"
"Because," he starts. "I'm happy."
Osamu is quiet. Suna almost thinks he's left Osamu speechless by the honest admission, but then he says.
"You were just complainin' 'bout how there was nothin' to do."
Suna closes his eyes. He doesn't know why he even tries. "Just shut up and do it before I chuck your phone out the window."
"Fine." He can hear Osamu get up and shuffle to wherever his phone is. "Suna."
"What?"
"I'm happy too."
Suna opens his eyes and looks at him. Osamu smiles slightly. Just as a happier tune starts to float in, a brighter light filters in the room, and the rain has finally cleared.