Thread by @erisabesu3

i made rice tonight and whenever i do i can't stop thinking about osamu and #osaomi and how good their house must smell all the time, the clean, comforting scent of rice in the rice cooker permeating the air when omi comes home from practice, something he looks forward to +

after being around the stink of the gym and the locker room, so many voices and personalities to contend with over long hours and punishing drills and workouts. there's fuzz in his brain but omi opens the door and that aroma cleanses it all away.
and on nights osamu works late +

and the rice cooker hasn't been turned on yet, the house still smells fresh and good, like home. osamu has a way with rice, honed over years of practice and routine like omi's spikes, his receives. omi's not as good with rice but he's a dedicated learner, and his efforts +

by this point are more than passable. he stands at the sink and washes the rice, counting off the seconds in the silence of the kitchen. he repeats this as needed, letting his mind clear and his heart settle into a steady rhythm. when the water runs clear, he sets up the +

cooker and presses the button. he's got a few recipes he favors when it's his night to cook, and after looking through the fridge and checking what they have on hand he chooses a few items and gets to work. it's nothing particularly special - see, that's one of the nice things +

about rice. it can pair with anything, it can become any sort of dish, it can change into something robust and decadent or it can be the soft breath in-between bites of eye-watering spice. it can stand solo on the stage, or be hidden in the wings. it transcends the limits +

of cuisine.

when omi comes home from practice and the house smells like rice and whatever dish osamu's whipped up for them that night, after taking off his jacket and shoes and putting away his practice things, the first thing omi does is come over to osamu's side and +

lean in. osamu will put down anything in his hands, wipe them on the dishtowel or his apron and pull omi into a hug, where omi can press his lips to osamu's temple and smell the lingering scent of rice in his hair. he looks forward to this moment all the way home from +

practice. the simple gesture and scent of home, of osamu, of their life.

when omi hears osamu come home after work and join him in the kitchen, the first thing osamu does is take a deep breath and comment on how good everything smells, slipping his arms around omi from behind +

and kissing the side of omi's neck. omi doesn't stop what he's doing - he has to finish everything first - but he relishes the gesture and when the meal is ready and he's washed his hands, he finds osamu, sometimes sits in osamu's lap at the kitchen table to kiss him hello +

in a proper greeting. then together they set the table and eat.

osamu is fairly quiet and reserved, but he's also sickeningly clever, and unconsciously competent at just about everything. with osamu, omi laughs a lot, the both of them snarky and opinionated though where +

omi is blunt to a fault, osamu can be more tactful, except when it comes to his twin. osamu can indulge in hours of slow, sensual lovemaking, but he can also sizzle with spontaneous passion - omi's needs are more than met, in every way imaginable.

he's well fed. and he does +

what he can to satisfy all of osamu's hungers too. like rice, their life together is rich in aroma and flavor, a never-ending combination of different ingredients that are infinite in variety, and yet made of the same, simple grains, hearty and wholesome, pure and nourishing. 💖

@threadreaderapp unroll, please