ઇଓ 𝐏𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 [𝕆𝕤𝕒𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕒]

𝔑𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔪

"Ya worry a lot," Suna grumbled, running his fingers through Osamu's grey hair.

His roots had started to grow again, but he was too lazy to color it.

Instead, the older Miya twin nuzzled his cheek into Suna's chest, one leg on top of the blocker's, resting on his side while the two watched porn.

There was no particular reason for it.

It was just kinda fun.

Surprisingly, neither of them were really turned on by the fake orgasms and decent acting.

Osamu sighed.

"What?" Suna asked.

"... Nothing."

"Oh really it's nothing okay never mind—" Suna murmured in a high pitch voice. "Out."

Osamu chewed his lip. What was he supposed to tell Suna?

"I'm tryna ween my brother offa drugs," Osamu started. Suna snorted.

"Why the fuck would ya want ta do that?"

Osamu was quiet. Suna's finger crawled down to brush Osamu's cheek.

"He..." Osamu bit his lip. "He's bein' reckless... like always." Osamu sat up and rolled onto Suna, resting his chin on his chest and dropping his eyes. Suna wrapped his arms over Osamu's lower spine. "Y'know... I look out fer 'im and I make sure he's okay... and he still tries to-to just... make everythin' harder fer 'imself! He has a freakin' future ahead o' him but he fucks... he's tryna fuck everythin' up! Why can't he jus' see how much of a chance he's got in life? I can't let 'im ruin his life, turn inta me!" Osamu closed his eyes.

"What's wrong with ya?" Suna wondered. Osamu cocked an eyebrow.

"Um... lemme think-oh yeah, I killed a guy."

The two became quiet. Osamu straddled Suna's hips and sat up straight.

"I went ta prison. I sell weed to make a living, and I have no motivation to go anywhere once I graduate high school. If I graduate high school. I have no dreams-" Osamu faltered. "No realistic, possible dreams. I'm not gonna go 'nywhere, Rin. I'm gonna be a fat ol' drunk and watch all my friends get on with their lives. But I'd rather be alone than have 'Tsumu chugging beer with me at the same bar."

Suna stared up at him.

"Addicts are assholes," was all he said. Osamu frowned. "They only care 'bout themselves. So when ya try to sober 'em up, keep 'em clean, yanno why they always pop another pill? Shoot up again, take another drink?" Osamu couldn't answer. "I know why. The only thing they think about, in that moment? How fuckin' good it's gonna feel when they take it." Suna sat up and Osamu nearly fell back but the blocker caught him. "The rush, or the numbness, how much of a high they're gonna get. That's all they care about." Suna tilted his head. "He's hooked. He's never goin' pro."

"Shut the fuck up," Osamu whispered. Suna cupped his face.

"Hey," he said. "He's not gonna, so don' beat yerself up. At least y'all have each other."

Osamu felt his lip quiver.

"No... he still has a chance." Osamu looked up. "He can get... he can stop doin' em. I know it." Osamu fidgeted with his hands. Suna sighed.

"Whatever. Get yer hopes up fer all I care," the blocker muttered, flopping back down.

"Ya don' care?" Osamu wondered, getting off of Suna and laying next to him.

"Why should I?" He shrugged. Osamu stared.

"Well... I'm yer boyfriend."

The two were silent.