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pin-k-ink · 6 months ago

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maelstrom // miya osamu & miya atsumu (pt. 1)

tw ⇢ dub-con, mutual pining, teasing, sexual content, strong sexual tension, suggestive themes, polyamory/threesome implications

wc ⇢ 12.3k

part one | part two

The summer heat enveloped you like a warm embrace, thick and heady in the late afternoon air. Your skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat as you chased after the twins, breathless laughter tumbling from your lips.

Atsumu glanced back at you over his shoulder, a mischievous grin stretching across his face. "C'mon slowpoke, you're fallin' behind!" he teased, dark brown hair whipping in the breeze as he ran.

Osamu shot you a playful smirk, easily keeping pace with his brother's longer strides. Even at nine years old, the competitive spark between the twins burned bright.

You huffed out a breath, cheeks flushed from the exertion as you willed your shorter legs to move faster. The sound of Atsumu and Osamu's rambunctious laughter echoed through the park as you gave chase.

Finally, you caught up to the twins under the broad canopy of an old oak tree. Doubling over with your hands braced on your knees, you gulped in deep lungfuls of air.

"You jerks...waited up..." you managed between pants, shooting them a half-hearted glare.

Atsumu propped his hands on his hips, eyes dancing with poorly concealed glee. "If you can't keep up, maybe you shouldna played tag, (Y/N)-chan."

"'M faster than you," Osamu piped up, sticking his tongue out at his brother in a show of childish teasing.

You watched the familiar bickering unfold with a fond smile, their back-and-forth already an ingrained fixture of your childhood. Atsumu and Osamu had been your best friends for as long as you could remember, partners in crime and constant companions through thick and thin.

The first day of your senior year started off like any other. The piercing trill of your alarm sliced through the heavy silence of your bedroom. You groaned, blindly reaching out to slam the snooze button before reluctantly peeling yourself out from under the cocoon of warm blankets.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you trudged over to your closet and began the familiar routine of getting ready for school. You pulled on your uniform skirt, smoothing the soft plaid fabric over your thighs. Next came the crisp white button-down, which you tucked neatly into the waistband before fastening each button one-by-one.

As you stood in front of the mirror putting the final touches on your look, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of melancholy. This marked the beginning of your last year of high school - your last year before everything changed. Soon you'd be going off to college, leaving behind so many cherished memories and faces.

The sound of the front door opening and closing echoed up the stairwell, followed by a muffled "I'm here!" Sparing one last glance at your reflection, you grabbed your backpack and hurried downstairs to find the Miya twins waiting in your entryway.

"Well don't you look as radiant as ever?" Atsumu purred by way of greeting, leaning casually against the wall. His dark blazer hung open to reveal the trademark navy sweater vest, sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

You felt your cheeks warm at his bright smile and unabashedly appreciative once-over. Even after all these years, Atsumu's shamelessly flirtatious remarks never failed to flustered you.

"Ignore him," Osamu chimed in with a good-natured roll of his eyes. The gray haired twin stood beside his brother, hands tucked into the pockets of his neatly pressed trousers. "Ya know he's always been a smooth-talkin' little shit."

"Oh c'mon 'Samu, don't be jealous that I actually know how to compliment a lady," Atsumu shot back with a devilish grin.

You bit back a laugh at their playful back-and-forth, shaking your head in amusement. "You two are too much. Are you ready to go?"

With a final shared look, the twins followed you out the door and down the all-too-familiar path towards Inarizaki High for the last time. You couldn't help but savor each familiar sight and sound - the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, the rhythmic tapping of your footsteps, Osamu and Atsumu's animated chatter.

These small moments had been the steadfast backdrop to your life for as long as you could remember. And soon, everything was going to change. You tried not to dwell on how much you'd miss this comfortable routine...and how much you'd miss the twins.

The walk to school passed by in a warm, familiar rhythm. Atsumu and Osamu bickered good-naturedly as they always did, trading barbs and insults that held no real bite. You chimed in occasionally with a teasing comment of your own, relishing in the easy camaraderie between the three of you.

All too soon, the gates of Inarizaki High came into view, signaling the end of your short reprieve. The open courtyard buzzed with students carrying on conversations and laughing amongst themselves as they began to filter inside for homeroom.

You lingered back, letting the twins stride ahead a few paces as you drank in the atmosphere around you. This grand entrance, these precisely trimmed hedges, the cherry blossom trees lining the walkway - they had become such ingrained sights over the past three years. You wanted to commit every detail to memory before it all slipped away after graduation.

"You comin', (Y/N)?" Atsumu called back to you, snapping you from your reverie.

You blinked rapidly, offering him what you hoped was a convincing smile. "Yeah, I'm right behind you."

As you moved to catch up with the twins, Atsumu fell into step beside you. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body as your arms brushed together with each stride. Up close, you noticed the strong line of his jaw had become more chiseled, his cheekbones sharper and more refined. He really had grown into a handsome young man.

"See something ya like, (Y/N)-chan?" His voice was a deep rumble laced with amusement. When you turned to face him with furrowed brows, Atsumu's piercing eyes danced with mischief. "You were starin' pretty hard there."

You felt your face grow hot with a blush. "W-What? No, I wasn't staring! I was just...lost in thought."

The lie tumbled clumsily from your lips as you averted your gaze, silently cursing your inability to be honest - with Atsumu or with yourself. Because the truth was, you had been drinking in every detail of his appearance, admiring the way his perfectly tousled hair seemed to glow like sunlight in the morning rays.

Osamu scoffed from your other side. "Sure ya were. That's what they all say."

You shot the gray-haired twin a halfhearted glare. "Oh, put a sock in it, 'Samu."

The three of you continued your playful banter, but you were hyperaware of Atsumu's presence beside you. The cadence of his voice, the subtle spicy aroma of his cologne, the casual brush of his arm against yours - it all flooded your senses in a dizzying wave. You swallowed hard and tried to push away the fluttering feeling blossoming in your chest.

Was it possible you were developing feelings for your best friend, after all this time?

The thought was dizzying...and more than a little terrifying. Atsumu and Osamu had been permanent fixtures in your life for as long as you could remember. To complicate that bond with romantic feelings felt like an overstep, even if Atsumu's own flirtatious behavior seemed to egg you on.

No, it was better to just bury those confusing emotions. Your friendship with the twins was too precious to risk over a passing infatuation that may not even be reciprocated.

The school day passed by in a whirlwind of lectures, notes, and mindless doodling for Atsumu. His thoughts kept drifting, wholly consumed by you and the inexplicable pull he felt in your presence.

During lunch period, he spotted you walking across the courtyard alongside Osamu, deep in conversation. Atsumu's breath hitched in his throat as you threw your head back with unbridled laughter at something his twin had said. The way the sunlight kissed your features, illuminating the jovial crinkles around your eyes and the bright flush in your cheeks - you looked positively radiant.

Atsumu felt that all-too-familiar ache blossom in his chest as he watched you from afar. An ache that had plagued him more and more over the past couple of years. At first, he mistook it for typical teenage infatuation, but lately the feelings had only intensified into something deeper...something he couldn't quite put a name to.

All he knew was that he never wanted to miss another moment of your smile, your laughter, your easy way of existing in the world. You were his harbor, the one thing that kept him grounded amidst the chaos of school, volleyball, and the looming pressure of an uncertain future.

"You're starin' again, ya big creep," Osamu's gruff voice dragged Atsumu from his reverie. The gray-haired twin slid onto the bench across from him, already digging into his perfectly triangular onigiri lunch.

Atsumu felt a rush of heat flood his cheeks at being so brazenly called out. He tried to play it cool with a nonchalant shrug. "I wasn't starin'. Just...observin'."

"Is that what yer callin' it these days?" Osamu quirked one brow skeptically before taking another massive bite of his rice ball.

Atsumu's eyes drifted back over to where you still stood near the vending machines, laughing at something on your phone. The sound was light and airy, so full of pure, unbridled joy - he wished he could bottle it up and keep it safe forever.

With a resigned sigh, Atsumu dragged his stare away to meet his twin's knowing gaze. "It's nothin', okay? Don't go readin' into it."

But even as the words left his lips, they both knew it was a lie. There was no use denying the truth any longer - Atsumu was well and truly enamored with you.

The realization should have been earth-shattering. You were his closest friend, his confidante, the one person who knew him inside and out and stuck by him through everything. To risk that connection by developing romantic feelings seemed like the highest form of idiocy.

And yet...Atsumu couldn't bring himself to regret it. Not when every shared laugh, every brush of your hand against his, every softly murmured inside joke set his heart aflame with purpose. Being around you simply felt right in a way he couldn't explain.

Maybe there would never be a way to act on these feelings. Maybe he was destined to keep them locked away, a melancholic ache to carry through life.

But still, he decided as he watched you rejoin them with that brilliant smile, it was worth it to bask in your light...even if doing so risked getting burned.

The final weeks of senior year passed by in a bittersweet blur for Atsumu. Each familiar routine and milestone carried a melancholic weight, knowing it would all be ripped away after graduation.

As he strode through the halls of Inarizaki for the last time, memories seemed to assault him from every corner. There was the spot under the old oak tree where you used to enjoy lunch together, trading jokes and playful barbs. The student lounge where he and Osamu would lounge around after practices, making up ridiculous games to stave off boredom while they waited for you.

And then there was you - an omnipresent force that had been woven inextricably into the fabric of Atsumu's high school experience. Your radiant smile, your effervescent laugh, your quiet strength that grounded him even in his most unhinged moments.

He tried not to dwell too hard on the ache that blossomed in his chest whenever you were around lately. The nagging feelings that had started as a tiny spark but had grown into a raging inferno, threatening to consume him whole.

Atsumu knew, in that deep part of himself he refused to acknowledge, that his feelings for you had long surpassed the boundaries of a platonic friendship. You weren't just his closest confidante, his partner-in-crime of sorts. You were...everything. The very axis around which his world seemed to pivot and spin.

But he could never admit that out loud, could never even entertain the notion of exposing those feelings to the harsh light of day. Because to do so would be to risk fracturing the precious bond you'd all cultivated over years of shared history. You were too important - what you had was too important.

So Atsumu carried his burden silently, stuffing those unruly emotions down until they plaqued his very bones with a dull, relentless ache. He watched from the sidelines as you laughed and joked with Osamu, intimate in a way that simultaneously warmed and shattered Atsumu's heart.

Did his brother feel the same forbidden longing that seemed to consume Atsumu more with each passing day? He could never tell - Osamu had always been the quieter twin, opting to express himself through subtle gestures and lingering looks rather than brash words.

All Atsumu knew was that with each tender brush of Osamu's fingers against your arm, each murmured private joke you shared, another tiny fissure seemed to splinter his foolish heart wide open.

He couldn't begrudge either of you for something so inexplicably human as emotional attachments. You had both been the two pillars propping him up for as long as he could remember. To lose one of you would reverberate through his entire world like a flash-bomb detonation.

So Atsumu simply swallowed down the persistent lump in his throat and basked in your presence for as long as he was permitted. He drank in the sight of you crossing the courtyard, head thrown back in uninhibited laughter at something Osamu murmured in your ear. He committed the melody of your voice to memory as you cheerfully called out to him during breaks, always including him.

Because as long as he could revel in these small moments, maybe the hollow ache of unrequited love wouldn't completely devour him. Maybe he could subsist on the lingering crumbs of your friendship and admiration from afar.

As their high school years faded into memory, a new looming question began to worm its way insidiously into Atsumu's mind:

What would he do when simply being near you was no longer enough to satiate the relentless hunger burning inside him?

The day of graduation dawned bright and cloudless, the perfect sunny backdrop for the class of Inarizaki to bid farewell to their high school years. As Atsumu donned his crimson gown and mortarboard hat, he couldn't help but feel a surge of melancholy.

This moment marked the end of an era. No more shared classes or inside jokes scribbled onto desk tops. No more rambunctious locker room celebrations after winning the championships. Atsumu's indelible memories were forever trapped behind these walls, preserved like insects in amber.

As he made his way across the manicured quad towards the auditorium, award-winning volleyball skills moving his long legs with an innate grace, Atsumu scanned the milling crowd for your familiar face. His breath hitched in his throat when he finally spotted you.

You looked positively radiant swathed in the rich burgundy robes, the sunlight catching on your glossy tresses as you laughed at something one of your friends said. Atsumu felt that familiar swooping sensation in his stomach as you tossed your head back, entire body alight with uninhibited joy.

In that moment, he made a silent vow to etch every curve, every plane of your face into his memory forever. The delicate sweep of your lashes fanning across flushed cheeks. The dimples that appeared whenever your smile stretched wide enough. That lopsided grin he'd fallen tragically in love with over the years.

Atsumu wasn't naive enough to think this wouldn't be one of the last times he saw you look so unburdened and carefree before the pressures of the "real world" came crashing down. He wanted to soak in this moment for as long as he was permitted.

A gentle hand on his elbow pulled Atsumu from his reverie. He blinked rapidly, only then realizing he'd been unabashedly staring. Osamu stood beside him, dressed in his own graduation robes with an inscrutable look on his features.

"You're doin' it again," was all he said, letting the unspoken words hang heavy between them.

Atsumu swallowed hard, feeling a flush of embarrassment warm the tips of his ears. Before he could formulate a pithy retort, you suddenly appeared in front of them, all sunshine smiles and breathless excitement.

"There you guys are!" you exclaimed happily. "I've been looking everywhere for my two favorite people."

You reached out to playfully swat at Atsumu's bicep, and he was struck by how utterly at ease you seemed - as if the joy of this momentous occasion coalesced around you in a glowing aura. How he longed to bottle up that radiance, keep it tucked away for himself to admire whenever the world drained the color from his periphery.

"Aw, ya know ya don't gotta flatter us like that, doll," Atsumu drawled out with a roguish wink. "We were always the favorites, even if you won't admit it."

You stuck your tongue out at his teasing, eyes sparkling with mirth. And just like that, the familiar song and dance resumed between you three. Banter and jokes filling the empty spaces, temporarily soothing the sting of all that was ending.

As you pulled both twins in for a group photo, arms looped casually around their shoulders, Atsumu was struck by the sudden realization of how small you seemed tucked into his side. He breathed in the intoxicating floral notes of your shampoo, allowing it to temporarily saturate his senses and blot out the rest of the world.

This was the feeling he longed to chase endlessly - the comforting warmth of you beside him, both temporally and physically close. With you tucked against him, nothing else seemed to matter in that moment. Not the pressures of the future or impending loss of this routine. All that existed was your smile, your laughter, your essence.

As Osamu's hand came to rest on the small of your back, pulling your trio into an even tighter warm embrace, Atsumu couldn't ignore the dull flare of _something_ igniting in his chest. It was a spark threatening to raze him from the inside out if he allowed it to fully fan into flame.

Jealousy? Longing? Desperation?

He wasn't sure, and he was too afraid to inspect that conflagration any closer. All Atsumu knew in that moment was that he didn't want this feeling to ever end - even if the fire consuming him was the only thing keeping him warm.

With a few clicks and flashes, the impromptu photoshoot came to an end. You stepped back from the twins, smoothing down the sleek crimson fabric of your gown with a beaming smile.

"I can't believe this is really it," you said, letting out a slightly breathless laugh tinged with disbelief. "The end of an era."

Atsumu felt his throat constrict slightly at your words. You weren't wrong - the life and routines you'd all become so accustomed to were coming to a definitive end today. The demon of change loomed on the horizon, refusing to be ignored any longer.

Before he could dwell too much on the creeping sense of melancholy, Osamu was suddenly there, his larger hand engulfing your smaller one in a warm grip.

"C'mere for a sec," the gray-haired twin murmured, voice pitched low enough that Atsumu had to strain to catch the words.

You shot Atsumu a quizzical look over your shoulder as Osamu began to gently tug you away from the crowd of meandering graduates and their families. Atsumu could only offer a halfhearted shrug, that ever-present lump forming in his throat once more.

He watched with a strange sense of detachment as Osamu guided you under the secluded alcove of a tall oak tree, its thick canopy of leaves providing a sheltered respite from prying eyes. You came to a stop before him, the two of you bathed in shards of filtered sunlight as you stared up at Osamu with clear confusion.

But Atsumu knew his twin, could read the set of Osamu's shoulders and the slight downward quirk of his lips. He was working himself up to something, expending that extra energy to gather his thoughts in a way Atsumu had never been able to do himself.

Slowly, reverently, Osamu lifted his free hand to cup your cheek, calloused thumb tracing the delicate curve of bone there. You seemed to freeze under the tender ministration, lips parting slightly on an exhale. Atsumu found himself holding his breath right along with you, the world around him reduced to a dim buzzing while he waited for whatever would happen next.

Then, as if in slow motion, Osamu leaned down to press his lips against your forehead in a lingering, achingly intimate kiss.

The gesture was shockingly gentle, a sweetness Atsumu didn't know his rough-edged twin was even capable of. He couldn't tear his widened eyes away as you lifted your own hands to settle against Osamu's chest, fingertips lightly bunching the fabric of his gown.

For a fragmented heartbeat, it was as if Atsumu wasn't even there - just two bodies frozen in a private embrace, conveying everything words could never hope to fully encapsulate. It was beautiful and heart-rending all at once.

Just as quickly as the moment began, it was over. Osamu pulled back ever-so-slightly, eyes flickering over your features as he drank in your awestruck expression with an indecipherable look of his own.

Then, the spell was broken by the sound of Atsumu's mother calling out to them, gesturing with her camera for the trio to regroup for more pictures.

You stepped backwards, mouth still hanging open as if to speak before visibly collecting yourself. Osamu's expression had already smoothed back into his usual impassive mask, but that muscle in his jaw ticked with some undefinable emotion as he followed your lead out from the shade of the tree.

All three of you rejoined the crowd without a word spoken about what had just transpired. Atsumu fell into step beside his twin, throwing furtive glances towards Osamu's stoic profile out of the corner of his eye.

What the hell was that? The thought battered around his skull like an insistent, droning pulse he couldn't ignore. Did Osamu have feelings for you too? Unrequited, seemingly unspoken feelings if the tortured longing in that chaste embrace told Atsumu anything.

The realization that your friendship may have permanently shifted should have been earth-shattering. But in that moment, Atsumu couldn't bring himself to process the full weight of it. Not when you stood there looking so bewildered and ethereal, the last rays of afternoon sunlight setting your very skin aglow.

Change was inevitable, he supposed. And no amount of clinging to the nostalgic innocence of the past could stop the inescapable march of time.

So he simply closed his eyes, letting the radiant warmth of you sear itself into his memory alongside the phantom imprint of Osamu's lips against your forehead.

It was a picture he knew, deep down, that he would never be able to recreate or find again.

A few weeks after the bittersweet pomp and circumstance of graduation, you found yourself standing in the cozy kitchen of the Miya household. The air was thick with the aroma of simmering rice and freshly chopped vegetables as Osamu methodically prepped ingredients.

"Told ya I was gonna put ya to work," he called over his shoulder with a teasing lilt. "Can't have ya leeching off my hospitality for free, (Y/N)."

You stuck your tongue out at the back of his head, momentarily forgetting he couldn't actually see the childish gesture. In the weeks following your high school sendoff, the three of you had fallen back into that familiar, effortless rhythm. Spending time together was as natural as breathing - a fact you were infinitely grateful for.

"I'm happy to help however I can," you replied easily, tying one of Osamu's spare aprons around your waist. "You know I'd do anything to support your dream of opening that onigiri shop."

Osamu's shoulder hitched in a half-shrug, but you caught the way the tips of his ears tinged pink at your earnest proclamation. For all his put-upon gruffness, the gray-haired twin had a surprisingly soft underbelly when it came to vulnerability.

"Just don't go gassin' my head up too much," he finally muttered, turning to face you with a bashful smile. "I'll start to think yer tryna butter me up for free food or somethin'."

You opened your mouth to refute his teasing claim, but your retort died on your lips as Osamu closed the distance between you. He moved with that same innate grace he exuded on the volleyball court, casual confidence rolling off him in waves until you were cast in his looming shadow.

Up close, you were struck by the intensity simmering in his half-lidded gunmetal eyes, the slight protrusion of his sharp cheekbones accented by the strong angles of his jawline. All boyish softness had faded from his features, giving way to an arresting maturity that stole your breath.

When did Osamu become...this? You found yourself wondering with no small amount of bewilderment. Sure, you'd always known the twins were outrageously handsome, but that acknowledged fact had seemed almost irrelevant in the grand scheme of your close-knit friendship.

Now though, as Osamu's broad palms settled on the counter on either side of you, effectively bracketing you against the solid line of his body, you were hyper-aware of how big he was. How undeniably masculine in a way you'd somehow missed until this very moment.

The barest whisper of his sandalwood cologne infiltrated your senses as he leaned closer, deep timbre reverberating against your skin.

"A'right, enough flirtin'," he murmured, the barest hint of a smirk playing on those full lips. "Let's get cookin' before this rice gets any older."

You could only nod dumbly as he guided you through the familiar rhythm of onigiri preparation, his body a scorching presence against your back. Each brush of his calloused fingers against yours as he adjusted your hand positioning sent electric jolts of heated awareness dancing along your nerves.

And when he bent even closer, the deep rumble of his laughter ghosting across the sensitive skin of your neck while he murmured instructions, you struggled not to shiver. The dizzying blend of cedar musk and the salty tang of dried seaweed filled your senses until Osamu was all you could perceive.

In the periphery of your vision, you caught a glimpse of Atsumu lingering in the kitchen entrance, watching your intimate exchange through narrowed eyes. You tamped down the slight lurch of guilt at the realization he'd witnessed your proximity to his twin.

Surely there was nothing untoward happening here - just Osamu teaching you a skill he'd perfected through hands-on guidance. This closeness and physical ease was natural for your long-standing friendship... Right?

Still, you couldn't help the shiver of heated awareness that trickled down your spine at Osamu's every touch, igniting your nerve endings like driftwood catching the first lick of flame.

This felt decidedly new, unfamiliar...and more than a little thrilling in a way that should have been deeply unsettling. Yet you found yourself sinking into the unfurling warmth of Osamu's proximity with little protest, chasing that smoldering spark of tension.

As the rhythmic kneading and shaping of the onigiri filling continued, the heavy silence that blanketed the kitchen only seemed to grow thicker with tension. You were hyperaware of every minute shift in Osamu's body behind you, the whisper of his exhales fanning across the back of your neck.

His hands felt searing against yours as he firmly guided your movements, broad palms engulfing your smaller ones entirely. You struggled to focus on his softly murmured instructions, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through you with each rumbling syllable.

"There ya go, just like that..." Osamu's praise was a low purr against the heated shell of your ear. "Yer a natural at this, doll."

You bit back a full-body shiver at the endearment, all too aware of how easily those simple pet names rolled off his tongue nowadays. There was an undeniable undercurrent of suggestion woven into each word, blatant flirtation thinly veiled behind their usual banter.

When had his teasing comments started to evolve into something more heated, more weighted with implication? You couldn't pinpoint an exact moment, but the shift was unmistakable now.

A large, calloused palm skated up the length of your arm to splay possessively against the dip of your waist, effortlessly drawing your bodies into complete alignment. You felt surrounded, enveloped by Osamu's solid heat and earthy, intoxicating scent.

"Gettin' a lil handsy there, aren'tcha 'Samu?" The familiar lilt of Atsumu's voice shattered the heated tension like a bucket of ice water.

You startled slightly at the sudden intrusion, tearing your eyes away from the expanse of tanned forearms bracketing you against the counter. Atsumu stood in the kitchen doorway, hip cocked lazily as he regarded the two of you with an inscrutable expression.

There was an edge to his Usually playful smirk that bordered on something darker as his piercing gaze slowly raked over the suggestive lines of your bodies. You suddenly felt unbearably overheated under the weight of that stare, heat licking up the back of your neck in a flush.

"Can't have my favourite taste tester gettin' cold feet now," Osamu replied without missing a beat, not even bothering to extract himself from your intimate position. In fact, his fingers flexed ever-so-slightly against your waist, pulling you somehow even closer in a subconscious gesture of possession.

The air felt weighted, charged with an undercurrent of challenge that had your pulse thrumming in your ears. Osamu's confident indifference only seemed to sharpen the intensity of Atsumu's regard.

When the blond finally spoke again, his voice carried a strained edge that had your mouth going dry with unnamed tension. "Is that how yer plannin' to taste test? Gettin' real...hands on with the process?"

It should have been an innocuous statement, laced with Atsumu's trademark cockiness that you'd come to expect. And yet tingles of heated awareness sparked along your nerve endings at the subtle growl woven into those last few words.

You were abruptly, viscerally reminded that these were not the same unruly teens you'd grown up alongside all these years. Somewhere along the way, the easy camaraderie and roughhousing had evolved into something darker, heavier - an intricate magic act of push and pull and simmering, unspoken tension.

Osamu simply cocked one brow in response to his twin's barb, the barest of smirks playing at the corner of his lips. "That a problem for ya, 'Tsumu?"

The challenge hung thick and palpable in the air as Osamu let his palm splay even wider across the dip of your waist, thumb grazing the exposed sliver of skin where your shirt had ridden up.

You felt like you were suspended in the eye of a storm, caught in the crosshairs of some secret battle waged entirely through subtle physicality and heated stares. The energy swirling between the brothers was suffocating, heady, triggering your fight-or-flight instinct.

Part of you wanted nothing more than to flee this suddenly stifling kitchen and catch your breath. But the other part - a deeper, primal part of your psyche - was entranced by this unfurling dance. You were transfixed by the raw, unbridled maleness suddenly radiating from two men you'd known your whole life.

"Y'know, on second thought..." Atsumu's voice dragged you from your daze, lower and edgier than you'd ever heard it. He pushed off from the doorframe with one last lingering look, jaw flexing subtly. "I'll leave the two of ya to it."

Then he was gone, disappearing back down the hallway from whence he'd come. Yet the heated imprint of his stare seemed seared into the very air around you, an inescapable phantom presence.

The tension didn't dissipate even after he departed. If anything, it ratcheted up several precarious notches as Osamu's gunmetal gaze slid over to you. A beat passed where you simply stared at each other, the weighted silence stretching taut.

Then, before you could even process his next move, Osamu dipped his head until his nose brushed against the sensitive skin just below your ear. His gravelly exhale fanned across your throat as he murmured, "Where were we, doll?"

Osamu's words seemed to release whatever fragile hold you'd maintained on keeping this heated situation at arm's length. The rough timbre of his voice coupled with the scorching brand of his body against yours proved to be your undoing.

You couldn't resist leaning back into the solid wall of his chest, seeking out that blissful fusion of hard planes and masculine warmth. A quiet, needy sound escaped the back of your throat as Osamu's hands roamed with more insistence - one splaying across your lower abdomen to tug your hips flush against him, the other skimming featherlight patterns up your ribs.

"That's it, sweetheart," he rumbled in approval, lips brushing the shell of your ear with each ragged syllable. "Don't overthink this..."

His palms felt scorching even through the thin cotton barrier of your top as they mapped every dip and swell of your torso. You shuddered at the overwhelming rush of sensation sparking along your nerve endings, body instinctively arching into his touch like a flower seeking sunlight.

This went against every sensible part of your being that understood intimate moments like this between friends could lead nowhere good. That little voice of restraint had been drowned out entirely by the molten lava flow of want and need thrumming through your veins.

All you could perceive was the hot brand of Osamu's body weighing you down, the dizzying amalgam of his cedar musk and the salty tang of rice. The rough pads of his fingertips skating higher, higher, until you were certain he could feel the frantic staccato beating of your heart.

"So responsive for me," Osamu growled in approval, sounding almost awed. "Been wantin' this for a long time, haven'tcha doll?"

Had you? The question should have given you pause, allowed some semblance of rationality and self-control to creep back in through the hairline fractures.

But Osamu didn't give you that opportunity. His palm finally cupped your breast in one scorching caress, kneading the soft flesh with confident surety. The brush of his calloused thumb over your pebbled nipple right before he pinched it punched a shuddering gasp from your lips that he instantly swallowed in a searing kiss.

There was nothing gentle or tentative about the way Osamu's mouth moved against yours. Just raw, unbridled hunger and need as his tongue swept between your lips in a blatant claim of dominance.

You surrendered to the dizzying onslaught of sensation without a shred of resistance. Fisting your hands in the front of his shirt, you pulled him even closer until there was no space left between your bodies. Just prussian lines and valleys molded seamlessly together in a perfect, blissful fit.

Osamu's free hand threaded through your hair to angle your head, deepening the kiss until your shared breaths mingled in harsh pants. His taste, his scent, the dense weight of his body crushed against you - it all blended into a mind-numbing, euphoric loop.

Only the jarring thud of something clattering to the tiled floor penetrated the hazy lust-soaked pocket you and Osamu seemed to have crafted. You startled slightly at the sudden noise, lips parting with Osamu's on a shallow gasp as you blinked back to reality.

Atsumu stood frozen in the kitchen doorway once more, eyes blown wide and jaw slack in astonishment. One of the ceramic canisters that usually lived on the counter had fallen from his grip, rolling across the tiles in his wake.

For a beat, the three of you simply stared at each other through the thick silence, tension crackling like a livewire. Then Atsumu seemed to visibly collect himself, scooping up the fallen canister as he slowly backed out of the kitchen without a word.

Only the dull thud of the pantry door slamming down the hall gave any indication of his hasty departure. Yet in the stillness that followed, you couldn't fight the premonition that the earth had irrevocably shifted on its axis - consequences be damned.

Several days had passed since that heated, unforgettable encounter with Osamu in the kitchen. Yet no matter how hard you tried to go about your daily routines and pretend nothing had fundamentally shifted, you couldn't quite meet either twin's gaze directly.

The memory of Osamu's calloused palms mapping every swell and valley of your body, his demanding kiss swallowing your shuddering gasps - it all replayed through your mind in vivid flashes. Stoking an insistent, smoldering burn low in your belly whenever you dared dwell on the implications.

You knew you should have been mortified by your lack of self-restraint, disgusted with yourself for nearly throwing away a lifetime of close friendship over some sordid tryst. But you couldn't seem to muster up that sense of appropriate shame or regret. If anything, some deeper, more primal part of your psyche only ached for more.

That confusing internal tug-of-war came to a head when Atsumu texted you late one evening, asking if you were free to come by Osamu's new onigiri shop the next day. Apparently, he needed an objective third party to blindly taste test some new menu items he'd been working on.

You really should have said no, claimed you were too busy or had other plans. Put some healthy distance between yourself and the tangled web of heated tension now straining your connections to both brothers. Yet the words of refusal couldn't find purchase on your tongue.

Which was how you found yourself sliding onto a barstool across the service counter from Atsumu the following afternoon, stomach aflutter with an undercurrent of trepidation you refused to examine too closely. Osamu was conspicuously absent, having said he needed to run some errands and leaving you both alone with a veritable buffet of onigiri prototypes.

"Aren't ya a sight for sore eyes," Atsumu purred by way of greeting, all traces of his typical shit-eating grin notably absent. Instead, his honeyed gaze roamed over you with an unsettlingly weighted intensity that raised gooseflesh across your skin.

You tried your best to swallow down the sudden lump of nerves clogging your throat, mustering up an awkward chuckle. "Don't go getting fresh with me. Your flattery won't sway my taste bud honesty."

That, at least, earned a quiet huff of laughter from the setter. "Wouldn'ta it any other way, sweetheart."

God, that pet name should not have sent a shiver of heated awareness skittering down your spine the way it did. Yet here you were, unable to tear your eyes away as Atsumu methodically rolled up the sleeves of his fitted black tee to expose tanned, corded forearms and the flex of sinewy muscle.

He caught you staring, lips ticking up ever so slightly at the corners.

With a subtle shake of your head, willing away your treacherous thoughts, you nodded toward the array of rice offerings spread out before you. "So, where should we start?"

"Let's start with this lil number." Atsumu slid a plate with a beautifully shaped onigiri towards you. "New flavor combination 'Samu’s been wantin' to try out."

You reached for the rice ball, but Atsumu's hand shooting out to wrap around your wrist stalled your motion. You glanced up sharply to find him regarding you with an indecipherable gleam in his eyes.

"Allow me, (Y/N)."

The deep rasp of his tone sent tingles sparking across your nerve endings like licks of flame. You could only mutely nod in assent as Atsumu brought the onigiri to your parted lips, gaze boring into yours as he murmured, "Open up for me, sweetheart."

Electricity crackled down your spine at those loaded words, a visceral thrum of heated want coiling low in your abdomen before you could stop it. But you refused to shy away from his challenge, parting your lips to allow Atsumu to slowly feed you that first succulent bite.

As your teeth sank into the fluffy rice, flavors exploded across your tongue with dizzying complexity. Savory soy sauce notes mingled with the brine of salted plum and whispers of toasted sesame in a harmonious fusion. It was heavenly and utterly sinful all at once.

"Oh my god..." you breathed around the bite, eyes fluttering closed in order to better focus all your senses on the flavors. "Atsumu, that's incredible."

When you reopened your eyes, the blond was keenly watching you from beneath hooded lids. There was a tension wired through every harsh line of his body, thrumming in the corded tendons of his wrist as he clutched the onigiri in an almost punishing grip.

"Got a lil carried away there for a sec, didn'tcha doll?" His timbre dripped like molten honey, viscous and weighted with undisguised heat.

You swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond beyond giving the slightest shake of your head. There was a frisson of something dark and intoxicating swirling in the depths of Atsumu's piercing gaze that threatened to rob you of rational thought.

As if slowly waking from a trance, Atsumu brought the onigiri to his own lips for a tantalizing bite. He held it between his teeth while reaching for another one, making a soft sound of approval around the mouthful.

"Try this one next."

You didn't miss the challenge glinting in his eyes as he brought the new rice ball to your mouth. Nor the scorching graze of calloused fingertips along your jaw as he cradled your face with his free palm, thumb swiping blatantly over your bottom lip.

The soft whine that spilled from your throat was utterly involuntary, as was the way you instinctively leaned in to chase the tantalizing scent of Atsumu's cologne mixed with the briny sweetness of the rice.

"That's it, sweetheart..." His rumbling purr seemed to reverberate through you, stoking the steadily mounting embers of want low in your belly. "Let go and just feel for me."

You were utterly intoxicated by this side of him - self-assured and ravenously potent in a way you couldn't help but crave. So you readily obliged when Atsumu guided the onigiri between your parted lips in a torturously slow glide, eyes locked with yours in a scorching display of dominance and challenge.

What should have been an utterly innocent affair - taste testing new menu items alongside a friend - had swiftly devolved into something far more sinister under the dual onslaught of Atsumu's seductive ministrations and your own inability to keep those floodgates of hunger tightly sealed.

Another breathless moan spilled against the pad of Atsumu's thumb as the flavors burst over your tongue in a euphoric explosion. You didn't even register the complexity of the seasonings, too thoroughly subsumed by the spell his mere proximity wove over your senses.

In that heated trance state, you reached for the next rice offering with a steadier hand than you felt. But instead of simply proffering it to Atsumu, you found yourself mirroring his earlier move - cradling his chiseled jaw to swipe a maddening path over the lush swell of his bottom lip.

A punched-out sound rumbled from the setter, pupils swallowing up the warm honey of his irises as you guided the onigiri between his parted lips. You didn't miss the way his lids fluttered or the sharp flare of his nostrils as you stroked the pad of your thumb over that lush expanse of plush skin in a blatant tease.

"What did I tell ya about sweet talkin' my customers, ya sleazeball?"

The rough growl of Osamu's voice felt like a bucket of ice water down your spine, effectively shattering the ephemeral bubble of heated tension you and Atsumu had spun trance-like between you.

You sprang apart with a harsh jolt, whipping around to find the gray-haired twin observing you both from the end of the counter. His expression was unreadable beyond the faint twitch of that muscle feathering along his jaw - a nearly imperceptible tell that betrayed the depths of his tightly controlled displeasure.

An oppressive silence seemed to blanket the small shop, thick and loaded like the calm before a storm. You felt suspended in its grip, caught between twin infernos of intensity radiating from Osamu and Atsumu.

The weight of your actions - the heated flirtation, the flagrant disregard for boundaries - crashed over you in searing waves of guilt and something far more primal that you couldn't put a name to. Part of you wanted to slink away in mortified shame. But another part felt locked in the thrall of that precarious simmer, utterly unable to look away from the unfolding confrontation.

"This how you been tastin' yer new menu items?" Osamu finally spoke again, a ragged edge fraying the depths of his gravelly timbre. His gunmetal gaze pierced into you with laser focus before sliding over to pin his twin with equal scrutiny. "Gettin' real hands on with the process?"

There was a challenge laced into those words that raised the fine hairs along your nape. You found yourself momentarily frozen, mouth working soundlessly as your brain struggled to formulate a response, an excuse, anything.

Of course, leave it to Atsumu to recover his wits and asshole bravado first.

"Maybe if ya finally learned how to properly season things, I wouldn'ta had to get creative," he countered with a blasé shrug, full lips quirking into a smirk that bordered on taunting.

The muscle in Osamu's jaw ticked dangerously, but otherwise he didn't so much as flinch at his twin's barb. You, however, felt like the floor had dropped out from underneath as dread and arousal swirled nauseously in your gut.

"That so?" he murmured after a loaded pause, low and lethal in a way you'd never heard from the typically unruffled twin before. "'Cause from where I'm standin', looked an awful lot like ya were just tryna get yer rocks off with our best friend."

The bluntness of Osamu's accusation hung viscous and weighty in the air. You were paralyzed, every rational brain cell screaming at your damning silence in the face of such inflammatory words.

Yet still, you couldn't seem to find your voice. Couldn't will your limbs into action and flee from the escalating situation like any sane person would.

It was almost as if some primal, id-driven part of your psyche was reveling in the heated tug-of-war unfolding between the Miyas - being the focus of their piqued attention and unresolved tension in a way you never had before.

"Maybe I was," Atsumu countered at last, straightening to his full towering height with a boldness bordering on bravado. His smoky gaze slid over to scorch a path across your body, from the flush blazing high on your cheekbones down to where your thighs strained against the thin cotton of your shorts. "Ya got a problem with that, 'Samu?"

The sudden forcefulness of his regard, coupled with the molten heat dripping from Atsumu's words, sent a thrill of pure, undiluted arousal sparking down your spine. You watched, utterly transfixed, as the brothers stared each other down from across the counter.

The air felt charged and heavy, loaded with the promise of an impending storm front about to break. You shouldn't have wanted to remain tethered to that maelstrom any longer. Should have fled before this rapidly escalating situation obliterated the final tattered remnants of the world you once knew.

But as Osamu slowly rounded the counter towards you and Atsumu with a look that could peel paint, the only thought reverberating through your lust-addled brain was how grateful you were to finally be feeling the full force of the tempest.

No more skirting the edges of that swirling vortex, content to simply catch glimpses through the fractures of the world you'd built around yourself. You were about to become fully subsumed by its churning intensity - consequences be damned.

When Osamu finally came to a halt mere inches away, you could feel the raging heat of his stare like a brand searing your very bones. His pupils were blown wide, swallowing up the pale silver of his irises almost entirely as he drank in your flushed, parted lips and subtly heaving chest.

"I think," he began slowly, each word seeming to catch like gravel in his throat. "The real question here's whether our best friend's got a problem with it. Don't ya think, (Y/N)?"

Both twins swiveled their heated stares your way in uncanny tandem, effectively trapping you in the crosshairs of their unspoken stand off. You felt like a gazelle cornered between two starving lions, completely at their mercy yet unable to summon up any rational sense of self-preservation.

Because the plain truth was, surrendering to the raging storm of want consuming you sounded like bliss itself. All you wanted in that moment was to succumb to its swirling chaos completely, no matter the consequences awaiting on the other side.

Your lips parted around a trembling exhale, the sound seeming to echo loudly amidst the fraught stillness. Then with an audible swallow, you allowed your gaze to drift between the two men, barely daring to hope at the spark of undisguised hunger mirrored on each of their handsome features.

"No," you finally rasped, surrendering to the inevitable pull of their combined gravity. "No problems here."

The stifling tension that blanketed the onigiri shop in the wake of your breathless confession stretched on for several beats, loaded and electric. You watched with bated breath as the twins silently sized each other up before Osamu ultimately turned back and left.

Then, as if an unspoken decision had been made, something inside Atsumu seemed to detonate. In the span of a blink, he surged forward with unchecked purpose, muscular forearms bracketing you bodily against the counter. The solidity of his frame crushed against yours punched all the air from your lungs in a harsh exhale.

"Fuck, sweetheart..." he rumbled, voice already wrecked with need as he cradled the nape of your neck. "'M gonna make ya feel so good, yeah?"

Any coherent response you might have mustered was effectively swallowed by the punishing crush of Atsumu's mouth against yours. There was nothing gentle or tentative about the devouring slide of his tongue sweeping past your lips to lick hotly into the cavern of your mouth.

You could only whine against the unbridled onslaught of sensation, hands fisting in the front of his shirt as if to anchor yourself against the riptide threatening to pull you under. Everywhere your bodies melded together felt feverish and electric, stoking the steadily mounting blaze of arousal smoldering in your core.

Atsumu was all sharp angles and wiry power as he pinned you with his weight, one calloused palm drifting down to catch the flare of your hip and grind your hips flush. The undulating roll of his lower body against yours in tandem with the harsh suction and nips of his teeth against your bottom lip punched a broken keen of pleasure from your very core.

"That's it, let go for me sweetheart," he growled against the swollen seam of your lips before dipping back in for another dizzying taste.

There was no room for conscious thought beyond chasing the euphoric haze of sensation after burning sensation. Your very nerve endings were lit up in a constant loop of overload, every inhale filled with the heady, masculine blend of Atsumu's cologne and sheer musk.

You were utterly consumed, strung out by the steady build of blinding want coiling ever tighter and hotter at your center. Nothing else seemed to exist in that endless stretch of moments beyond Atsumu's sculpted body weighing you down and his punishing mouth claiming you as his own in a blaze of possession.

Only the harsh clatter of something solid striking the tile underfoot finally allowed the smallest fragment of clarity to pierce the lustful fog. With a broken gasp, you wrenched your mouth away to glance wildly over Atsumu's shoulder.

Osamu stood frozen in the entry to the kitchen, the plastic crate he'd clearly dropped at some point now lay scattered across the floor along with its contents—a selection of carrots and rice balls spilled haphazardly.

His pupils were blown wide in shock, pale irises swallowed up almost entirely as he watched you and Atsumu slowly untangle from your fervent embrace. The air felt supercharged and stiflingly heavy, weighed down by the newfound awareness and implications of what he'd just witnessed.

For several dragging beats, nobody spoke or even dared to move a muscle as the three of you simply stared at each other through the weighted stillness. Then, with a measured inhale, Osamu bent to slowly retrieve the scattered items with jerky motions, gaze averted.

"Don't mind me," he muttered once the crate was repacked, voice tinged with an undercurrent of something that made the hair on the nape of your neck prickle. "Just...carry on."

With that, the gray-haired twin pivoted on his heel and stalked back through the kitchen without another word or backward glance. You and Atsumu remained frozen in place watching his retreating form, the atmosphere between you now so fraught and overpoweringly awkward, it was practically suffocating.

The air felt viscous and stifling, as if you were both suspended in an airless vacuum that sucked all residual heat and excitement from the confined space. After another weighty moment, Atsumu finally cleared his throat and shifted away, careful to maintain a respectable distance while straightening his rumpled clothes.

"I should..." he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck while stoically avoiding your probing gaze. "We'll pick this up another time, yeah?"

And just like that, the subject seemed to shut with an almost resounding finality. Whatever simmering, unspoken tension blazing between you just moments prior was swiftly smothered and packed away without ceremony. No acknowledgment, no discussion - just a desperate pivot back towards the familiar status quo as cleanly as possible.

You could only mutely nod your assent, still reeling from the emotional whiplash of the past few minutes. With one last indecipherable look, Atsumu collected his bag and swept out the door, leaving you alone in the empty shop to vainly attempt collecting your scattered thoughts and tremulous emotions.

It took some time for the harsh pounding of your pulse to finally recede, thrumming in your ears like the steady beat of retreating waves. As the swirling chaos quieted, it brought with it a sudden, sweeping ache - an insidious phantom longing that had taken root deep in your bones.

You were utterly unprepared for the hollow, aimless melancholy that would linger even after the smoke and heat dissipated entirely. A melancholy that was only sated by continuing to greedily chase those ephemeral moments of blinding, tempestuous bliss.

No matter the inevitable devastation that awaited in the aftermath.

In the days following the emotionally charged encounter with Atsumu at the onigiri shop, you found yourself perpetually off-kilter, like the very ground had shifted beneath your feet.

Interactions that should have been lighthearted and routine felt weighted down by countless unspoken words, lingering glances filled with undisguised longing neither party dared voice aloud. An inescapable tension blanketed every moment the three of you occupied the same space.

You tried in vain to stem the rising tide of heat that furled low in your belly whenever you were near Osamu. The memory of being consumed by Atsumu's passion was still so viscerally fresh, every graze of his calloused palms against your oversensitized skin replayed in high definition.

But it was more than that – your reawakened desire also thrummed with flashes of Osamu's masculine presence surrounding you that day in the kitchen while crafting onigiri. The memory of being utterly enveloped by his cedar musk and the scorching brand of his solid frame pressed flush against yours was enough to have you trembling.

Worst of all were the times Osamu would catch you watching him from across the room, gunmetal eyes boring into you with an intensity you couldn't decipher. In those infinitesimal pockets of stillness, you could have sworn his pupils blew wide in a mirror of your own hunger. As if he was an inch away from abandoning his rigid self-control entirely.

The atmosphere was a powder keg just waiting for an inevitable spark to detonate it. So perhaps it was foolish, but some deeper desire within you found itself carelessly fanning those smoldering embers whenever you could. Offering Osamu lingering glances through your lashes, or pressing just a bit closer into his space under the guise of tasting a new menu item.

If he noticed your provocations, the twin gave no outward indication. Stoic control was second nature to Osamu, an unbreakable dam allowing just the barest trickle of turbulent undercurrents through the cracks. Yet for the first time in your life, you found that steadfast composure began to grate under your skin in a viscerally infuriating way.

You recognized the spiral of your behavior, the desperate goading to elicit a reaction – any reaction – from Osamu. It was like poking a slumbering beast, shoving and prodding until it lashed out in snarling hunger. Conscious thought took a backseat to compulsion as you rapidly gave yourself over to that primal hunt.

The breaking point came, inevitably, one sweltering afternoon in the cramped supply closet tucked behind the kitchen. You'd ducked inside to retrieve some extra rice containers only to nearly run headlong into Osamu's solid frame, ensconced in the tiny space.

"Shit—" you started, instinctively flinching backwards as muscular forearms shot out on either side of you to brace against the shelving units. The sudden cloying proximity of his sheer mass surrounded you in an inescapable cage, radiating heat like a furnace.

Osamu watched your startled reaction impassively, seemingly unruffled. However, his pupils had blown wide, irises reduced to smoldering iron rings locked on your own.

"You're gettin' reckless," he growled after a drawn pause, deep baritone reverberating over your heated skin like a physical caress. "Those little stunts o' yours ain't as subtle as ya think."

Your breath stalled somewhere high in your chest at the dark promise in his tone. In that moment, this close and utterly trapped in his orbit, the twin was not nearly as unaffected as he liked to project. You could practically taste the hunger bleeding out beneath those hairline fractures in his control.

"Maybe I'm getting tired of being subtle," you heard yourself replica before rational thought could kick back in. Having him so near, caging you in, sent a frisson of blatant challenge licking like flames over your nerve endings. That same feral, desperate compulsion to break through his composure drove you to keep pushing.

"Ya don't know what yer asking for, princess." The pet name rasped off Osamu's tongue, completely devoid of its usual lightheartedness. He seemed to swell even larger in the confined space as you watched that muscle in his jaw tic in agitation.

Fuck, he was going to consume you – a conquering king who refused to be denied his due any longer.

The notion shouldn't have been nearly as electrifying as it was, sending a spiral of molten arousal thrumming hotly outward from your core. You surged forward on pure reckless abandon to meet him halfway, searching for any type of friction.

It was Osamu's turn to inhale sharply through his nose at the sudden contact, every rock-solid plane of his torso now sealed flush against your softer curves. Neither of you spoke or dared to move any further as the miniscule space crackled with unbearable tension.

"How'dya know what I want?" you finally provoked, lifting your chin boldly despite the way your pulse thundered in your ears. "Maybe this is exactly it."

The implication hung hot and heavy between your bodies for all of a split second before Osamu's carefully leashed restraint finally shattered. With a guttural growl that reverberated straight to your center, he roughly grabbed your jaw in one large palm and crushed your mouths together.

Every ounce of pent-up hunger and yearning seemed to explode forth all at once in a clash of lips and teeth and questing tongues. The shock of it all momentarily robbed you of higher brain function as you jolted against the steel shelving at your back. Pinned between two scalding, inescapable surfaces with no hope of reprieve.

Osamu swallowed your resulting gasp with another plundering sweep of his tongue, cradling the back of your head with rough possession to angle you deeper into the maelstrom. His lips claimed yours in a searing brand you could practically feel etching into your very bones.

Not to be outdone, you quickly recovered enough dexterity to wind your arms around his neck and draw his weight more fully onto you. This time it was Osamu's turn to groan at the steady friction of your bodies meeting in an instinctive, rocking tandem.

You were utterly consumed from all sides by his scorching heat, the earthy cedar musk and briny tang of dried seaweed filling every fraught inhale. It should have been suffocating, that level of utter possession. Yet all you craved was diving deeper into the tidal wave's undertow.

Only the unmistakable creak of the main shop door being eased open from the front room shattered the electrified bubble you'd constructed. With a wounded noise, Osamu wrenched his mouth away as if burned, eyes blown wide and wild in the shadowy dimness of the storage closet.

For a handful of harrowing moments, you both remained frozen, sharing rapidly shallowing breaths as your straining ears caught the telltale thud of Atsumu's heavy footfalls somewhere out front.

"Yo, Samu! Ya back here?" the blond's smooth call ricocheted down the hallway preceded by the sound of more of his swaggering steps moving towards the kitchen.

You and Osamu sprang apart like repelling magnets, chests heaving as if coming up for blessed air. There would be no speaking of this, no dissecting the maelstrom currently ravaging every logical brain cell left to you both.

With twin looks of wild desperation, Osamu turned and eased the door open just wide enough to admit a sliver of illumination from the kitchen. Then with one last anguished look over his shoulder, he disappeared back towards the front to greet his twin.

You remained rooted in place for several minutes after, back pressed against the shelving units and hands fisted at your sides to quell their incessant trembling. Each labored inhale flooded your system with the lingering traces of cedar musk and sweat that felt seared into the very lining of your lungs.

Only once the thunderous pounding of your heart eventually subsided to a dull throbbing ache did you finally feel stable enough to emerge from the shadowy closet on shaking legs, purposefully avoiding the kitchen and front room entirely until your body no longer vibrated with need.

As you settled adrift in the churning seas of the unknown, one excruciating fact became eminently clear - there was now no possible way to turn back from that hairline fracture which had first allowed the darkness to creep through.

You'd irrevocably shattered the dam holding everything at bay. And the resulting flood waters would drown you all without mercy unless you surrendered to their relentless pull completely.

Despite your best efforts to maintain some semblance of normalcy in the aftermath of that heated encounter with Osamu, an undercurrent of heated tension seemed to permeate every interaction between the three of you.

Simple, innocuous moments that should have passed without second thought now felt loaded with unspoken implication and promise. Like the powder keg you'd inadvertently lit was still smoldering, waiting to detonate once more at the slightest spark.

Which was likely why your pulse kicked up a furious staccato when you found yourself alone in the kitchen with Atsumu a few nights later, wrist-deep in sudsy dishwater. The familiar domestic scene should have been comforting in its mundanity. Except the blond setter didn't seem interested in keeping things light.

"Y'know, I've been thinkin'," he began conversationally, sliding up to lean one hip against the counter beside you. "We never did finish that little taste-testin' session properly, did we?"

You did your best not to visibly react, keeping your gaze trained on the ceramic plates you were rinsing with poorly-feigned nonchalance.

"That was years ago, 'Tsumu. If I recall, your brother walked in on us getting a little too...comfortable with each other," you replied, mouth dry. Out of your periphery, you watched Atsumu's smirk deepen at the obvious implication.

"Yeah? Well, what 'Samu don't know won't hurt 'im."

The blatant suggestion in his tone raised a flush of heat along the back of your neck. You struggled not to dwell on the mental imagery of Atsumu slowly stalking closer like a predator sent your arousal thrumming in your veins.

"That so?" you croaked out, pulse kicking up another notch when the cotton of his t-shirt brushed your upper arm thanks to his proximity. "Whatever happened to keeping things professional, Miya?"

Atsumu simply chuckled, deep and wicked against the heated shell of your ear as his chest fitted snugly against your back. You drew in a sharp inhale at the brand of his torso pressing flush with yours, palms stalling in the dishwater.

"Does this feel very professional to ya, sweetheart?"

The low rumble of his words vibrated straight through you, searing pleasure lancing bright and hot to your very core. You fought not to shudder at the barely-there rasp of Atsumu's early-evening stubble trailing down the slope of your neck.

"'Tsumu..." The plea fell in a trembling whisper as your eyelids fluttered closed of their own volition. You were undeniably powerless against this all-consuming riptide of tension he'd steadily mounted, body singing in electric want.

Warm, calloused palms settled at your waist, fingers flexing possessively as Atsumu's nose skated across the rapid flutter of your pulse point. The sensation of every exhale fanning blistering heat across your damp skin robbed you of all coherent thought.

"Let go for me, sweetheart," he rasped in your ear, the words more a physical caress than verbal command. "We both know ya want this as bad as I do..."

And suddenly you were seventeen again, young and reckless and utterly enthralled by this beautiful boy with the sly smirk who'd watched you grow up. How many times had you privately longed for him to turn those heated golden eyes on you in the way you craved? For Atsumu to finally shuck off those layers of carefully curated aloofness and claim you as his own?

The answer was too many to quantify. But in that moment, it no longer mattered.

With a needy whine that may as well have been torn directly from your soul, you leaned back to finally fully seal your bodies flush together. Atsumu let out a punched-out sound of approval as your back arched instinctively into the solid planes of his chest and abdomen.

"That's my girl," he crooned in a low, wrecked rasp before finally sealing his mouth over the thundering pulse in your throat.

You cried out at the first scorching sweep of Atsumu's tongue, hands scrambling wildly for purchase. One fist caught in the front of his shirt while the other knocked a few remaining dishes from the counter with a telling clatter.

There was nothing tentative or gentle about the way Atsumu kissed you - just pure liquid heat and consumptive want as he staked his claim with lips, teeth and questing tongue. You were utterly, blissfully adrift in the roiling tides of sensation.

A desperate, broken noise very nearly punched its way past your lips when Atsumu's large palm settled at the nape of your neck, angling your head for even deeper exploration. It was wildfire, molten lava being pumped directly into your veins, and you willingly, greedily burned from the inside out.

Everything beyond the scope of Atsumu's questing mouth, the heavy drag of his teeth scoring delicious friction as he mapped every soft plane, simply ceased to exist. You floated outside the mortal realm of space and time, enveloped in a lush, honeyed vacuum of pure blinding pleasure.

It could have been seconds or eons before Atsumu eventually slowed the maddening pace, gradually reducing you both to panting, open-mouthed exhalations against bruised lips. You struggled in vain to come back down to earth as the setter slowly, reverently brushed his nose against yours in an intimate eskimo kiss.

"Good god, darlin'," he husked out on a ruined exhale, "the things I wanna do to ya..."

His bestial words seemed to momentarily fracture whatever daze you'd slipped into. The lingering echoes of reality, of inescapable consequences, finally began to pierce through the lustful haze swirling around you.

With a tortured mewl, you pushed half-heartedly at Atsumu's shoulders in a silent plea for respite. The precipice you both currently teetered on was far too dizzying to grapple with right now.

Atsumu, bless him, seemed to instantly grasp your sudden reluctance. He cleared his throat roughly before easing back, peppering one last torturously soft kiss to the corner of your swollen lips.

"Easy there, sweetheart," he gentled, calloused palms skimming up and down your ribs in a soothing caress. "We don't gotta take the plunge just yet..."

Chest still heaving from the overwhelming intensity, you watched with a swirl of conflicting emotions as Atsumu slowly backed away and straightened his disheveled appearance. The atmosphere between you thrummed with the echoes of your heated exchange, alive with lingering arousal and unspoken questions.

"For the record..." Atsumu rasped out, voice utterly wrecked in a way that raised goosebumps along your skin. His honeyed gaze burned with undisguised hunger as it roamed your flushed, kiss-swollen features. "Soon as you're ready to let me drown ya proper, just say the word."

You could only nod shakily, fingers still gripping the edge of the counter for stability as Atsumu's suggestive promise seemed to caress every raw nerve-ending. With one final, searing look that pierced straight to your soul, the blond pivoted on his heel and strode from the kitchen without a backwards glance.

You remained frozen in place for several moments, struggling to regain your equilibrium as the phantom echoes of Atsumu's passion slowly started to dissipate. Only once you heard the soft thud of the back door swinging shut did you finally sag backwards against the counter, chest heaving with steadying inhales.

Unbeknownst to you, Atsumu barely made it a few paces down the darkened hallway before a solid weight slammed into his shoulders, propelling him back against the concrete wall with a harsh grunt.

"What the fuck d'ya think you're doin', 'Tsumu?" Osamu growled, stormy eyes glinting like steel as he pinned his twin with one forearm braced against his collarbone. "Fuckin' around with (Y/N) like that right under my goddamn nose?"

Atsumu glared back defiantly even as his windpipe strained against Osamu's unrelenting pressure. "Since when did I need your permission, huh?"

"Don't play stupid, you little shit." The muscle ticked rapidly along Osamu's clenched jaw as he pressed closer until they were nearly nose-to-nose. "We both know what's really goin' on here."

A tense silence stretched between them, electrically charged and weighted with too many unspoken truths. Osamu's glare bored into his brother's unflinchingly as his free hand fisted in the collar of Atsumu's shirt until their foreheads nearly touched. When he spoke again, his deep timbre emerged barely above a gravelly rasp.

"She doesn't just belong to you, 'Tsumu. I've loved that girl just as long as you have."

The raw admission seemed to detonate the fragile tension encasing them both like a powder keg. Atsumu's piercing stare dimmed briefly with something that looked remarkably like resignation before his lips peeled back in a sneer.

"Yeah, well at least one of us finally found the balls to make a move," he spat back with no real bite.

Osamu's eyes slitted dangerously at the jab, but he made no move to further escalate as the brothers simply glared at each other through the weighted stillness. A strange sense of defeat seemed to gradually wash over them both like an outgoing tide, leeching the residual anger away until only a weary brand of acceptance remained.

With a measured exhale, Osamu slowly loosened his grip until he could fully step back, straightening his broad shoulders as if physically shrugging off the confrontation. Atsumu watched him cautiously, throat working around a dry swallow.

"We can't keep goin' like this," the older twin said at last, scrubbing one large palm over the back of his neck as he purposefully avoided Atsumu's probing stare. "Sneakin' around, steppin' on each other's toes over her every damn minute..."

He trailed off with a mirthless chuckle, shaking his head as he finally locked eyes with his silent counterpart. "It ain't right, and you know it. No matter how we twist ourselves up tryna make it okay."

Atsumu held his twin's gaze for a long moment, every muscle in his chiseled jaw and throat working subtly beneath the surface as the painful truth settled in his bones with leaden finality.

Finally, with a deep, shuddering inhale, he gave the barest dip of his chin in assent. "What're you proposin' then?"

The challenge was clear in Atsumu's carefully neutral tone, an obvious gauntlet thrown for Osamu to pick up and take the reins. And for a fleeting second, the blond could have sworn he glimpsed naked longing warring with resignation in his twin's pale eyes. But then it was gone, shuttered behind that same impenetrable wall of impassivity.

"We deal with this thing head-on," Osamu answered at last, tone resolute and free of its earlier bite. "No more sneakin' around, no more holdin' back - we put it all on the table and let the pieces fall where they may."

He held Atsumu's alarmed stare with an inscrutable mask of his own, leaving no further room for argument or avoidance.

"Either we go for broke and finally have it all out...or we walk away from this for good."

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