Chapter Text
“Have another, Suna-san!” Their manager guffaws, pouring more alcohol into his cup. He’s so drunk that the majority of it sloshes out onto the table, but he still manages to give Rintarou yet another full glass.
Osamu grimaces, nursing the same drink he’s had all night. No one’s even attempted to fill his drink again, thankfully. He watches Rintarou, smirking slightly at the dour expression on his face. He derives no joy from watching him deal with their drunk manager, but the way he stubbornly keeps drinking is pretty entertaining. Nothing else is happening anyways, so it’s the closest thing he has to entertainment.
“Poor Suna-san…” The coworker next to Osamu shakes her head in concern. “I wish the manager would stop choosing someone to pick on at these parties.”
“He’ll be fine, you should be grateful it’s him and not you.”
“I guess you have a point, but someone should really stop him before Suna-san gets sick.”
That someone is Osamu. He should’ve stepped in sooner, but the manager was only just now drunk enough that they could make their escape unscathed.
Osamu sets his glass down, rising from his seat and crossing to the other side of the room. He leans over, taking the glass out of Rintarou’s hand and placing it on the table. “Sorry sir, I promised someone I’d get him home at a reasonable hour tonight.”
“Oh, is that so~?” The manager asks with a devious glint, and Osamu silently apologizes to Rintarou for saddling him with yet another issue. If they’re lucky, the manager won’t even remember on Monday.
Osamu helps him up, leaning his weight against himself. He wraps one of Rintarou’s arms around his shoulders, then his own arm around his waist, before guiding him out of the bar.
“You’re heavy.” He complains once they’re outside, and Rintarou takes some of his weight off of Osamu.
“Sorry. I feel like shit.”
“You shouldn’t have drunk that much.” He chides him in a gentle tone. “You gotta learn how to fake it.”
“Show me later.”
“Alright. Can you walk? Where’s your apartment?”
Rintarou stands there for a moment, staring at something in the distance. “I don’t think any trains are running right now.”
“There’s probably a couple, but we’ll never make it with you in the state you're in. I’ll just take you to my place.” He hoists his weight again, hailing a taxi. Rintarou leans his head on his shoulder while they wait, and Osamu tries not to feel too happy about it.
The cab drive is quick, and Rintarou doesn’t vomit on the seat or Osamu’s clothes.
He drags him out of the cab and up to his apartment, fumbling for his keys.
“I’ve never been to your apartment before.” He muses as he stands on his own for a moment, letting Osamu finally get a grip on his key and unlock the door.
“Next time you get drunk, do not expect me to babysit you.”
“I didn’t expect it in the first place.” Rintarou places a hand on Osamu’s waist, walking on his own into the apartment.
Rintarou collapses on the couch, and Osamu grabs some electrolyte drinks from his fridge. He sets them on the coffee table, cracking open one and handing it to Rintarou. “Drink at least one before you go to bed. If you throw up, drink both.”
“I’m not going to throw up,” Rintarou swears as he sips the sports drink.
“I don’t believe you.” Osamu jokes, watching Rintarou for a minute. “You want a shower or anything? I have a toothbrush you can use, and I’ll lend you something to sleep in.”
“Sure.” Rintarou nods, to what in particular Osamu doesn’t know.
“You can use my bed too. I’m not even drunk so I’ll survive sleeping on the floor.” “You sure?” Rintarou looks up at him, with a curiously soft expression.
“Yeah.” Osamu nods, positive that he’s mirroring that look.
“You’re so doting.”
“I’ve been told.” Osamu looks off in the distance, sighing a bit. It’s his nature to worry, especially about people he cares for. “Anyways, I’ll help you to the shower.”
“I like it.”
It’s so quiet that Osamu isn’t sure he heard Rintarou right, so he doesn’t respond.
“I can probably walk on my own now.” He stumbles as he stands, and Osamu immediately reaches out to catch him. Rintarou grabs onto his hands, waiting a moment for his apparent dizziness to fade.
“You sure?” He only shrugs, so Osamu leads him by the hands to the bathroom.
“Don’t fall or I’ll feel super guilty.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“I’ll leave some clothes on the counter.”
Rintarou nods, shutting the door behind him.
While he’s doing that, Osamu grabs whatever might fit Rintarou, which ends up being a t-shirt and a pair of sweats. It’ll be fine. He leaves them on the bathroom counter, then spends the duration of his shower setting out his futon.
As much as he would like to share the bed, he’s not that crazy.
The door to the bathroom opens, and Osamu looks over to make sure Rintarou isn’t bleeding from the head or something.
Whatever he originally meant to do has completely vanished from his mind, instead replaced with the image of Rintarou in his clothes. It’s like a vision of an angel, and the rational part of Osamu’s brain is reminding him that it is literally just a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, the most sexless thing he could have grabbed out of everything in his closet. It’s not even that particularly ill-fitting, the shirt is a little big but they’re not so different in body type that Rintarou’s swimming in it.
Still, he looks good.
“Hey.” Rintarou greets him.
“Hey.” Osamu replies, swallowing whatever jumped into his throat.
He’ll never drink again.
(He only had one drink.)
“I feel a lot more sober after that.” He lingers before moving closer to Osamu. He still seems pretty drunk, so Osamu reaches out to stabilize him again.
“That’s- good. I’m glad.” He nods, glancing down at their hands. He doesn’t want to pull away. “You’ll still wake up with a hangover, unless you have a superhuman metabolism. It’ll help if you finish those electrolyte drinks.”
“Mm.” Rintarou hums in agreement, staring at their hands too. “Thanks.”
“You wanna sit?”
“Sure.” Osamu guides Rintarou back to the couch, only letting go of his hands to give him one of the bottles again. When he sits, their thighs press together. He has to twist his body to face Rintarou, so he doesn’t completely invade his personal space. “I’ll only force you to drink one.”
“You’re so kind.” He laughs quietly, drinking more. If he minded the touch, he would’ve said something, so Osamu doesn’t bother to move.
He’s not so clueless that he’s completely misreading the situation, but he’s not going to do anything. Even confessing wouldn’t be right. Even if it was reciprocal. There's a tiny part of him doubting that it is, but that’s not what’s stopping him. He’d rather Rintarou be sober.
So he watches as he finishes off the sports drink, barely registering it when Rintarou turns to face him. Their thighs press together even more.
“Are you this doting to everyone?”
“No.”
“Then I’m lucky.”
“Mhm.”
They stare at each other for a moment, and everything around them moves slowly. So slow that Osamu doesn’t notice when Rintarou starts to lean in. If he had, he’d have pulled away. But that would be an equally bad message to give.
Instead, he rests his forehead on Osamu’s shoulder. It makes his body tense up in a pleasant way, his breath on his skin a welcome sensation.
“I like you.” He says softly, but there’s no chance for Osamu to misinterpret his meaning now.
He doesn’t respond, instead bringing a hand up to brush through his hair.
Almost as immediately, he feels Rintarou’s breath even out.
He can’t help but laugh.
“Who falls asleep after confessing?” He asks, carefully lifting Suna from the couch and carrying him to the bedroom.
Whether it’s the pounding in his head or the awful taste in his mouth that wakes Osamu, he has no clue. But he’s awake, and miserably shuffling to his bathroom for his toothbrush and some medicine.
The medicine doesn’t help, not immediately anyways, but a clean mouth does. The door to his bedroom is still shut, so Rintarou is probably still asleep.
Osamu gets to work on breakfast, guessing what Rintarou would like. Based on what he liked the most out of the bento boxes, and the fact that he would have a raging hangover, Osamu decides to make some ochazuke.
He starts brewing some tea while preparing the toppings. He throws some salmon under the grill, placing the dry toppings on the table, then making some rolled egg and toast. He’s not hungover, after all, and ochazuke isn’t going to fill him up. Rintarou might be hungry enough for it, anyway.
When the door to his bedroom opens, he glances over, placing the bowls of hot rice on the table.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like hell.” Rintarou grumbles, taking a seat at the table.
“What do you want to drink?”
“Tea.”
“Really? I would’ve assumed you were a coffee guy. I’ll have to get you canned tea from now on.” He gets out some cups, setting one on the table. “If you’re fine with genmaicha, that’s what’s in the pot. I can make you something else if you prefer.”
“I’m pretty sure I fell asleep in your apartment, but I guess it was at a restaurant.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Osamu raises an eyebrow.
“It means sit down.”
Osamu laughs softly, sitting across from Rintarou. “Sorry.”
Rintarou pours some tea into his cup, then over his rice. He picks through the toppings, adding a bit of everything before stirring it all together. "Do you do this for everyone?"
“Only for guys who pass out drunk in my apartment.” He grabs a piece of the rolled egg, eating it as he pours hot tea over his rice. The saltiness of the ochazuke is perfect, and it’s gentle enough that it shouldn’t make Rintarou feel sick.
He glances over his bowl at Rintarou, who’s mirroring him. He looks pretty tired.
“You have a headache?” “Mm.” He nods weakly.
“I’ll get you some medicine after breakfast.”
“I can take care of myself.” It sounds more like a reminder.
“I don’t mind.”
Sitting at the table with him feels right. He could wake up next to Rintarou forever, even if he technically didn’t wake up next to him.
He doesn’t want to let this moment of simple domesticity slip from his grasp.
“I like you.”
Rintarou, unmoved, lifts the half eaten rolled egg to his mouth. “Yeah, it’s really good.”
Osamu glances upwards, imploring the heavens to give him strength. “No, I like you.”
His hand stops, mouth hanging open. “You.. you what?”
He stirs his ochazuke before bringing the bowl to his lips. He sets it back down on the table, looking at Suna again.
“I like you.” He repeats. “I have feelings for you.”
“Has anyone ever told you how romantic you are?”
“I think that was a better confession than whispering it and passing out in my arms.” He gestures with his chopsticks as Rintarou’s cheeks color.
“Good point.” They finish their breakfast without much fanfare, and Osamu gets up to clear the table. Rintarou joins him, bringing the dishes to the sink where they wash them together. He washes, Rintarou dries. It’s quiet, beside the sound of him sloshing around in the sink.
How romantic.
Once everything is cleaned, he dries his hands on a dish cloth. He turns to Rintarou, intending to ask him something, but forgets whatever it was.
He’s close. Really close.
Osamu realizes belatedly that he could kiss Rintarou.
He should kiss Rintarou.
Rintarou stares right back at him, parting his lips softly as if he wants to say something. Instead, he leans his head in, tilting to the side softly. A question and an invitation.
Osamu leans in to meet him halfway, closing his eyes as he brings their lips together.
For a moment, he has no idea what to do with his hands. He settles on Rintarou’s waist.
It feels like it lasts forever, but it was just a few seconds. When he pulls away, Rintarou’s smiling like Osamu just gave him the world.
“Are you… busy today?” He asks softly, glancing down at his lips.
“Mm… nope.” He can feel Rintarou’s breath.
“Do you want to stay?”
“For how long?”
Osamu thinks about it for a moment, then he smiles stupidly. “Forever?”
Rintarou laughs. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah.” He leans in again.