the nights we share
Sep. 4th, 2021 12:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
softpunkssuna rintarou/miya osamu, sakusa kiyoomi/miya atsumu // ~2k
> piece for How to Love a Miya; Suburbia AU
The electricity is busted because of the storm, according to Kiyoomi. Suna just gives him a dubious look. “You don’t think it’s because this place is haunted, do you.”
Kiyoomi shrugs and gently pushes the creaking door open. The floorboards and walls are discolored and ancient, possibly crawling with bugs just waiting to jump on them, two seconds away from crumbling but somehow still standing. Suna knows that the twins would say that it adds to the appeal.
He glances through the window of the room they’ve stepped into. The storm isn’t as terrifyingly loud as it’d been for the past half hour, though they’re stuck here inside the old mansion until the storm passes, much to Suna and Kiyoomi’s chagrin, because they don’t want to be here to begin with. It doesn’t help that they didn't exactly come prepared for this impromptu adventure, but at least Atsumu and Osamu brought sleeping bags for the occasion; they planned on staying overnight regardless of what Suna and Kiyoomi did.
Sleeping arrangements weren’t difficult—Atsumu with Kiyoomi and Osamu with Suna—but Kiyoomi proposed that he and Suna go explore the house a bit to see if there were any extra mattresses they could use instead so they won’t have to share the same miserable air. Kiyoomi hasn’t said it yet, but Suna knows that the only reason Kiyoomi suggested it was because he wanted to see if there was a way to somehow get out of here without the twins stopping them.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” Kiyoomi asks instead.
The mansion they're in resides in the outskirts of the town, a place Suna didn't even know existed until now, as if it just popped out of nowhere. It has the same eerie feeling of haunted areas in movies, and the European-themed interior only makes it more unnerving. Foreign stuff are rare in their suburbia.
Still, it's not enough for Suna to start believing in ghosts and the supernatural. Not yet anyway.
“Not right now, no.” The stairwell to the second floor of the house is destroyed, so their only options are the rooms. The twins are in what might be the living room, which is right by the front door, but they wouldn’t really know due to the lack of furniture. The idea that Suna and Kiyoomi could find an extra mattress is ridiculous, and even if they could, it would be unusable; Kiyoomi definitely said it to just try and get out.
Suna wonders why Kiyoomi agreed to go in the first place, but that also means asking why Suna himself went, and he doesn’t have a good reason for doing it besides the fact that Osamu asked him to over lunch earlier, right before they met up with Atsumu and Kiyoomi. He probably would’ve refused if he wasn’t preoccupied with trying to eat all the food Osamu was shoving into his mouth, insisting that he had to try everything the restaurant had to offer. “I don’t think there’s any way to get out of here but through the front door.”
“Probably.”
Suna’s flashlight is distinct because Osamu had placed these really ugly onigiri-face stickers on it, which he apparently worked hard to make. When he shines it ahead, the light lands on a new door on the other side of the room. There’s a large spider that sits on the knob, the size of his palm and enough to freak out new folks like Suna and Kiyoomi who only moved into town a few years back and not the twins who have been here all their life and who have seen stranger things. It’s probably why they’re convinced that there are ghosts around.
Suna turns to Kiyoomi. “You’re not going to freak out, right?”
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. “I’m not actually a weirdo, you know. We can get rid of it easily.”
What Suna expects is for Kiyoomi to get a stick and swat the spider. Instead, he takes out a small spray bottle from the backpack he refused to leave behind with Atsumu and sprays it at the insect.
Suna stares at the spider that crumples to the ground, now thoroughly drenched and dead. “Do you just carry spray bottles like that with you all the time.”
“Atsumu said he wanted to reenact a summer ad with Bokuto and Hinata.” Kiyoomi shrugs. “He said he needed to be wet for it. One of those bottled iced tea ads, I think.”
“So you went along with his weird idea and squirted water at him while Bokuto and Hinata videoed him for some 'summer sexy feel'?”
“I’m trying to be supportive.”
Suna can’t help it; he makes a gagging sound. At least it explains why Kiyoomi stuck around. Then again, it seems like the kind of thing boyfriends should do. Suna wouldn’t know.
Kiyoomi’s lips slightly quirk up as he tucks the bottle back in, like there’s something he knows that Suna doesn’t. “At least Atsumu and I are honest with ourselves, and it’s gotten us somewhere.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s okay though,” Kiyoomi continues, as if Suna hadn’t said a thing. “I was shy at first too, so I guess it just takes time.”
Before Suna can reply, Kiyoomi walks past him, ending the conversation
It’s because there are strange, wet sounds echoing in the bare room, distinct enough that Suna is certain that the source is from Kiyoomi and Atsumu’s sleeping bag.
“They got bad taste in places to make out,” Osamu grumbles, breath tickling Suna’s cheek. Though it’s a tight fit in the sleeping bag, the warmth is welcoming. Since the electricity isn’t working—whether it’s from the storm or from the house’s age or from some kind of supernatural entity, they don't know—the heater doesn’t work, so the cold hair hangs around them. Osamu lets out a shaky breath, shivering, and Suna lifts his chin without question so that Osamu can lean closer and bury a portion of his face into his neck for warmth. “Let’s never stoop to their level of doin’ PDA.”
Suna frowns. Osamu’s phrasing throws him off, and he recalls what Kiyoomi said earlier. Implying that Osamu and Suna are together is one thing, but it’s another for Osamu to make a comment like they actually are, when they aren’t, as far as Suna is concerned. Ghosts are more likely to be real than them.
“You know,” Suna starts hesitantly, because it still sounds stupid to him. “Sakusa thinks we’re dating. Weird, right? I told him he was weird. Maybe that’s why he and Atsumu are so perfect for each other.”
“Oh.” When Osamu falls quiet, Suna wonders what he’s thinking. “I thought we were.”
He doesn’t really hear the words at first. When it hits him though— “Wait, you did?”
“Why dontcha know?”
“Why do you know?”
Osamu pulls back and looks at him like he’s stupid. There’s enough moonlight that slips through the window that Suna can see him, and he half-wishes he can't even though it also means he can acknowledge that Osamu has a really nice face despite sharing it with Atsumu. “There ain’t anythin’ straight ‘bout us, Sunarin.” Suna opens his mouth to protest, but Osamu continues. “I feed you food even though everyone complains that I’m too greedy to even let anyone touch it. We’re cuddlin’. In a gay, tender way. And I gave you my special stickers.”
Despite the apparent evidence that they’ve apparently been doing not-platonic things for a while—Suna actually has no heterosexual explanation for the way Osamu buries his face in his neck, after all—he blurts, “The stickers are supposed to be a couple-y thing? Osamu, they’re hideous. It looks like actual dog poo.”
Osamu kicks him in the shin. “I hate you.”
Suna winces. “I thought that was just you being weird.”
Osamu kicks him again.
“Okay, I deserved that,” Suna admits. “I guess I just thought that it was just us being… us.”
“Which is bein’ gay, gross, and datin’? I thought you would’ve known by now. Then again, it makes sense why you never commented on it. I know you’re kinda lazy, but even you would’ve said somethin’ about a six-month anniversary.”
“Six months?” This time, it’s Suna’s turn to kick Osamu. “You knew that and you decided to spend it in a haunted house?”
“We’re unique that way?”
Suna groans. “We’ve never even kissed. How was I supposed to know?”
“It’s normal for couples our age to not immediately kiss, y’know,” Osamu argues. “‘Cept for ‘Tsumu, maybe, but—we’re in high school. No rush. ‘Sides, I thought it’d be cool to just… wait for some special and romantic moment to do it.”
“Like on a six-month anniversary. Stuck in a half-baked haunted mansion.”
“How was I supposed to know it wasn’t actually haunted? But... y'know, if you still wanna do it, I wouldn’t be opposed to it if you wanted to kiss. Now. Special or not.”
“Stop being coy. It’s—you’re stupid.”
“Is that a yes?”
Suna leans a bit closer to Osamu, something pulling him to not even give him an answer but to just straight up kiss him even though he hates this place and they could really do this someplace better because this is Osamu, and Suna realizes that he likes him enough to want to kiss him, to want to just be with him, anywhere.
Then Atsumu’s voice suddenly cuts through the air, saying, “Would you both stop makin’ so much noise? Omi-kun and I can’t sleep if you keep on makin’ those stupid soppy sounds over there.”
Suna and Osamu freeze. They’d been whispering at most, but even if that got loud, it isn’t enough to warrant the impression that they’d been making out. “I thought that was you two. All we did was talk.”
“We were cuddling.”
Huh.
Suna sits up, half-emerging from the sleeping bag. Kiyoomi is up too, hand fisted in Atsumu’s shirt like he pulled him to get up. Osamu follows shortly after with a rustling movement. Suddenly, they’re very aware that they can’t hear or see the thunder from the storm. They stay quiet, as if anticipating the other group to crack and reveal that they’re just fooling around and that there isn’t actually anything there.
Then the moaning sounds echo the room once more, and all four of them snap their heads towards one another. Their mouths are shut, and they can’t detect the specific source of the noise because it’s suddenly just everywhere.
“I’ve had enough of this,” Kiyoomi exclaims, practically yanking himself out of the sleeping bag in haste. “Let’s get out. I’d rather get hit with a spray bottle than spend one more minute here.”
“Definitely,” Suna agrees, already standing up.
“Goddammit, Suna, I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts,” Atsumu whines.
“At this rate, I’ll take any excuse just to leave this shithole.”
“But—” Osamu protests, only for Suna to grab his wrist.
“I’ll kiss you when we get out of here.” He promises. “Because there’s no way we’re sinking to their level of PDA, right?”
Osamu grins, and the mirth almost makes Suna impatient enough to kiss him then and there, despite his words. “‘Course.”
They ignore Atsumu squawk, “PDA? What are you talkin’ ‘bout? We didn’t even do anythin’!”
> piece for How to Love a Miya; Suburbia AU
The electricity is busted because of the storm, according to Kiyoomi. Suna just gives him a dubious look. “You don’t think it’s because this place is haunted, do you.”
Kiyoomi shrugs and gently pushes the creaking door open. The floorboards and walls are discolored and ancient, possibly crawling with bugs just waiting to jump on them, two seconds away from crumbling but somehow still standing. Suna knows that the twins would say that it adds to the appeal.
He glances through the window of the room they’ve stepped into. The storm isn’t as terrifyingly loud as it’d been for the past half hour, though they’re stuck here inside the old mansion until the storm passes, much to Suna and Kiyoomi’s chagrin, because they don’t want to be here to begin with. It doesn’t help that they didn't exactly come prepared for this impromptu adventure, but at least Atsumu and Osamu brought sleeping bags for the occasion; they planned on staying overnight regardless of what Suna and Kiyoomi did.
Sleeping arrangements weren’t difficult—Atsumu with Kiyoomi and Osamu with Suna—but Kiyoomi proposed that he and Suna go explore the house a bit to see if there were any extra mattresses they could use instead so they won’t have to share the same miserable air. Kiyoomi hasn’t said it yet, but Suna knows that the only reason Kiyoomi suggested it was because he wanted to see if there was a way to somehow get out of here without the twins stopping them.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” Kiyoomi asks instead.
The mansion they're in resides in the outskirts of the town, a place Suna didn't even know existed until now, as if it just popped out of nowhere. It has the same eerie feeling of haunted areas in movies, and the European-themed interior only makes it more unnerving. Foreign stuff are rare in their suburbia.
Still, it's not enough for Suna to start believing in ghosts and the supernatural. Not yet anyway.
“Not right now, no.” The stairwell to the second floor of the house is destroyed, so their only options are the rooms. The twins are in what might be the living room, which is right by the front door, but they wouldn’t really know due to the lack of furniture. The idea that Suna and Kiyoomi could find an extra mattress is ridiculous, and even if they could, it would be unusable; Kiyoomi definitely said it to just try and get out.
Suna wonders why Kiyoomi agreed to go in the first place, but that also means asking why Suna himself went, and he doesn’t have a good reason for doing it besides the fact that Osamu asked him to over lunch earlier, right before they met up with Atsumu and Kiyoomi. He probably would’ve refused if he wasn’t preoccupied with trying to eat all the food Osamu was shoving into his mouth, insisting that he had to try everything the restaurant had to offer. “I don’t think there’s any way to get out of here but through the front door.”
“Probably.”
Suna’s flashlight is distinct because Osamu had placed these really ugly onigiri-face stickers on it, which he apparently worked hard to make. When he shines it ahead, the light lands on a new door on the other side of the room. There’s a large spider that sits on the knob, the size of his palm and enough to freak out new folks like Suna and Kiyoomi who only moved into town a few years back and not the twins who have been here all their life and who have seen stranger things. It’s probably why they’re convinced that there are ghosts around.
Suna turns to Kiyoomi. “You’re not going to freak out, right?”
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. “I’m not actually a weirdo, you know. We can get rid of it easily.”
What Suna expects is for Kiyoomi to get a stick and swat the spider. Instead, he takes out a small spray bottle from the backpack he refused to leave behind with Atsumu and sprays it at the insect.
Suna stares at the spider that crumples to the ground, now thoroughly drenched and dead. “Do you just carry spray bottles like that with you all the time.”
“Atsumu said he wanted to reenact a summer ad with Bokuto and Hinata.” Kiyoomi shrugs. “He said he needed to be wet for it. One of those bottled iced tea ads, I think.”
“So you went along with his weird idea and squirted water at him while Bokuto and Hinata videoed him for some 'summer sexy feel'?”
“I’m trying to be supportive.”
Suna can’t help it; he makes a gagging sound. At least it explains why Kiyoomi stuck around. Then again, it seems like the kind of thing boyfriends should do. Suna wouldn’t know.
Kiyoomi’s lips slightly quirk up as he tucks the bottle back in, like there’s something he knows that Suna doesn’t. “At least Atsumu and I are honest with ourselves, and it’s gotten us somewhere.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s okay though,” Kiyoomi continues, as if Suna hadn’t said a thing. “I was shy at first too, so I guess it just takes time.”
Before Suna can reply, Kiyoomi walks past him, ending the conversation
==
Sleeping is hard, not because of the storm outside, which feels quiet and muted despite the thinness of the walls, and not because of the sleeping bag’s flimsy material that barely provides any cushion against the hard floors.It’s because there are strange, wet sounds echoing in the bare room, distinct enough that Suna is certain that the source is from Kiyoomi and Atsumu’s sleeping bag.
“They got bad taste in places to make out,” Osamu grumbles, breath tickling Suna’s cheek. Though it’s a tight fit in the sleeping bag, the warmth is welcoming. Since the electricity isn’t working—whether it’s from the storm or from the house’s age or from some kind of supernatural entity, they don't know—the heater doesn’t work, so the cold hair hangs around them. Osamu lets out a shaky breath, shivering, and Suna lifts his chin without question so that Osamu can lean closer and bury a portion of his face into his neck for warmth. “Let’s never stoop to their level of doin’ PDA.”
Suna frowns. Osamu’s phrasing throws him off, and he recalls what Kiyoomi said earlier. Implying that Osamu and Suna are together is one thing, but it’s another for Osamu to make a comment like they actually are, when they aren’t, as far as Suna is concerned. Ghosts are more likely to be real than them.
“You know,” Suna starts hesitantly, because it still sounds stupid to him. “Sakusa thinks we’re dating. Weird, right? I told him he was weird. Maybe that’s why he and Atsumu are so perfect for each other.”
“Oh.” When Osamu falls quiet, Suna wonders what he’s thinking. “I thought we were.”
He doesn’t really hear the words at first. When it hits him though— “Wait, you did?”
“Why dontcha know?”
“Why do you know?”
Osamu pulls back and looks at him like he’s stupid. There’s enough moonlight that slips through the window that Suna can see him, and he half-wishes he can't even though it also means he can acknowledge that Osamu has a really nice face despite sharing it with Atsumu. “There ain’t anythin’ straight ‘bout us, Sunarin.” Suna opens his mouth to protest, but Osamu continues. “I feed you food even though everyone complains that I’m too greedy to even let anyone touch it. We’re cuddlin’. In a gay, tender way. And I gave you my special stickers.”
Despite the apparent evidence that they’ve apparently been doing not-platonic things for a while—Suna actually has no heterosexual explanation for the way Osamu buries his face in his neck, after all—he blurts, “The stickers are supposed to be a couple-y thing? Osamu, they’re hideous. It looks like actual dog poo.”
Osamu kicks him in the shin. “I hate you.”
Suna winces. “I thought that was just you being weird.”
Osamu kicks him again.
“Okay, I deserved that,” Suna admits. “I guess I just thought that it was just us being… us.”
“Which is bein’ gay, gross, and datin’? I thought you would’ve known by now. Then again, it makes sense why you never commented on it. I know you’re kinda lazy, but even you would’ve said somethin’ about a six-month anniversary.”
“Six months?” This time, it’s Suna’s turn to kick Osamu. “You knew that and you decided to spend it in a haunted house?”
“We’re unique that way?”
Suna groans. “We’ve never even kissed. How was I supposed to know?”
“It’s normal for couples our age to not immediately kiss, y’know,” Osamu argues. “‘Cept for ‘Tsumu, maybe, but—we’re in high school. No rush. ‘Sides, I thought it’d be cool to just… wait for some special and romantic moment to do it.”
“Like on a six-month anniversary. Stuck in a half-baked haunted mansion.”
“How was I supposed to know it wasn’t actually haunted? But... y'know, if you still wanna do it, I wouldn’t be opposed to it if you wanted to kiss. Now. Special or not.”
“Stop being coy. It’s—you’re stupid.”
“Is that a yes?”
Suna leans a bit closer to Osamu, something pulling him to not even give him an answer but to just straight up kiss him even though he hates this place and they could really do this someplace better because this is Osamu, and Suna realizes that he likes him enough to want to kiss him, to want to just be with him, anywhere.
Then Atsumu’s voice suddenly cuts through the air, saying, “Would you both stop makin’ so much noise? Omi-kun and I can’t sleep if you keep on makin’ those stupid soppy sounds over there.”
Suna and Osamu freeze. They’d been whispering at most, but even if that got loud, it isn’t enough to warrant the impression that they’d been making out. “I thought that was you two. All we did was talk.”
“We were cuddling.”
Huh.
Suna sits up, half-emerging from the sleeping bag. Kiyoomi is up too, hand fisted in Atsumu’s shirt like he pulled him to get up. Osamu follows shortly after with a rustling movement. Suddenly, they’re very aware that they can’t hear or see the thunder from the storm. They stay quiet, as if anticipating the other group to crack and reveal that they’re just fooling around and that there isn’t actually anything there.
Then the moaning sounds echo the room once more, and all four of them snap their heads towards one another. Their mouths are shut, and they can’t detect the specific source of the noise because it’s suddenly just everywhere.
“I’ve had enough of this,” Kiyoomi exclaims, practically yanking himself out of the sleeping bag in haste. “Let’s get out. I’d rather get hit with a spray bottle than spend one more minute here.”
“Definitely,” Suna agrees, already standing up.
“Goddammit, Suna, I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts,” Atsumu whines.
“At this rate, I’ll take any excuse just to leave this shithole.”
“But—” Osamu protests, only for Suna to grab his wrist.
“I’ll kiss you when we get out of here.” He promises. “Because there’s no way we’re sinking to their level of PDA, right?”
Osamu grins, and the mirth almost makes Suna impatient enough to kiss him then and there, despite his words. “‘Course.”
They ignore Atsumu squawk, “PDA? What are you talkin’ ‘bout? We didn’t even do anythin’!”