#you and osamu roast spam in your dorm room at 6 am

[dinosaurtsukki]

DINOOOOOO CONGRATULATIONS ahhshsndb!!!!! May i have 3 and 4 for Osamu?

AHHHH THANK YOU ANON!! I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO REQUEST THE VODKA PROMPT AJGKSJ

Osamu + 3 + 4

3.  “Tell them to fuck off.”

4.  “It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.”

“Please tell me we’re done.”

“Okay, we are. We are. It looks good!” you said, half-crazed from the lack of sleep as you scrolled through yours and Osamu’s final paper for Biology I.

“Send it! Send it quick!” he egged you on.

“Let me change the name first!” you nudged him, renaming your document from ‘FINALFINALDRAFTAJKGJSKK.doc’ to ‘Miya_L/N_Final Paper.doc’ before sending it, one minute before the deadline.

“Yes! It’s done. Thank fucking god it’s done,” Osamu groaned, covering his face with his hands. You had crammed your final paper for pretty much the entire day yesterday and stayed up all night to finish it. 

“I hate this fucking class,” you shook your head, shutting your laptop close and leaning against your boyfriend.

“I know! What kind of professor sets their fucking deadline at six in the fucking morning?” Osamu exclaimed, his filter and generally calm personality whittled away from having to hunt down research papers with tiny footnotes and drinking nothing but black coffee and energy drinks. “Like, they knew, they knew deep in whatever it is in their chests that they use as a heart that everyone was going to cram the final and they still fucking did it.”

“Let’s never take their class again,” you shook your head.

“Agreed,” Osamu nodded, letting out one mighty yawn that practically reverberated throughout his body. “Okay. I’m going to sleep on your bed until the next day,” he said before flopping down face first into your pillows.

“Wait, Osamuu,” you whined, pulling at his shirt. “Why don’t we celebrate? It is the end of the semester after all.”

“Sleeping is celebrating,” your boyfriend mumbled sleepily into your pillows.

“Fine, I guess I’ll enjoy my secret stash by myself,” you sighed, scooting your butt across the floor to where your mini fridge was inside your dorm room. At the sound of ‘secret stash’, you could sense Osamu perk up without even turning around.

“What secret stash?” he asked, his voice clearly not sounding as if he was still mumbling into your pillow. You reached into your fridge and pulled out plastic water bottle that you had reused to sneak vodka into your room. From the sneaky look on your face, Osamu could clearly tell what the clear liquid was.

“It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.”

“I am a tired uni student who had to submit a paper for a class that I fucking hate at six o’clock in the morning. I have the right to,” you said while unscrewing the cap. “So, more for me,” you grinned, about to drink straight from the bottle before Osamu sat up.

“Wait, maybe I can have some too,” he said, rummaging through his backpack that he tossed at the foot of your bed and pulling out, of all things, a can of spam. For other people, that would be a weird thing to keep in their bag. But as Osamu’s s/o, you were all too familiar with him carrying around random cooking ingredients. The weirdest thing he carried around was actually a head of cabbage.

“Vodka and spam? That actually kind of works,” you shrugged. 

“I’m not drinking it,” Osamu shook his head, taking the bottle from you and spilling a little on the table.

“Hey!” you grabbed the bottle from him but kept watching for whatever it is your boyfriend was planning to do. Osamu went to your bathroom and returned with dental floss. Then, he plucked a pencil from your desk and sat back down. With strange precision and a lot of meticulousness that didn’t belong in the body of someone who had just pulled an all-nighter, Osamu used the dental floss to cut neat slices of spam before tying one of the slices with the floss to a pencil. Then, he used a lighter from his bag to ignite the vodka on the table and roast the spam on top.

“That’s... big brain energy right there,” you said aloud, unable to tear your gaze away at the roasting spam.

“I’ll make one for you if you want,” Osamu grinned. “Now this is a celebration.” You and Osamu took turns roasting the spam and making sure that the fire didn’t get out of hand. Finally, you had enough roasted spam and a burn mark on your table that you hoped nobody would notice.

“To the end of the semester,” you held a spam slice out.

“To the end of the semester,” Osamu nodded, toasting your spam slice. Right when you two were about to take a bite, there was a knock on the door. “Who the fuck is that?” Osamu scowled at the door, his mood quickly shifting from ecstatic to murderous.

“Hey, y/n? You awake?” you heard Atsumu’s voice come in. “Is Osamu there? He promised he’d help me train.”

“Tell them to fuck off,” Osamu told you. Most days, he pretty much tolerated his twin but he was in the mood to eating roasted spam and not dealing with Atsumu.

“He says fuck off and I agree!” you called out to him.

“Mean! Also, wait. Am I smelling spam?” Atsumu knocked again.

“No!” Osamu yelled. “Now go away we’re gonna fuck!”

“Okay, okay. Leaving!” Atsumu yelled and you sighed at the sound of his footsteps leaving.

“Did you just lie about us having sex so that we could eat spam that we roasted illegally?” you turned to look at Osamu.

“Obviously,” your boyfriend rolled his eyes. “I need my spam.” You laughed and shook your head at him before biting into your spam. It was charred and also still kind of raw on the inside, but it tasted so good after an all-nighter.

“And then sleepy cuddles?” you looked up at him with puppy-dog eyes.

“And then sleepy cuddles?” Osamu smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead and finishing his slice of spam.

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