Thread by @ejpnigiri

#sunaosa / body image issues, insecurity, hurt before comfort

it’s happening again.

osamu stares at himself in the mirror, an unpleasant feeling growing in his chest.

it hadn’t been a good week- business has been low lately. he’s been working overtime to make up for the +

decreased revenue, giving everything he has and yet it’s just enough to scrape by.

he breathes out a sigh, hardly managing to meet his own gaze in the reflection. dark circles so heavy they’re almost purple, eyes bloodshot from allergies and lack of sleep. his skin has been +

breaking out from all the stress, and his body is lethargic and dense. he’d been so busy lately he hadn’t managed to work out at all this week, and it’s left him oddly sluggish, weighed down by an invisible force.

osamu swallows, looking down. his shoulders are looking +

a little rounder than usual, he realises, and his stomach tone is almost entirely gone. he does a lot of lifting around the store, sure- but that’s just all in the arms.

he jolts when he meets his own eyes in the mirror, murky with barely concealed horror. he’s gained weight.

the realisation grabs him by the throat, choking. he hardly dares to breathe when he takes a step back from the mirror, unable to tear his eyes away from the unfamiliar softness clinging to his thighs and hips.

osamu let’s his eyes shut, briefly. there’s nothing to panic +

about, he rationalises in an attempt to calm himself down. it’s two, three kilograms at most. and he knows he usually gains weight around certain body parts more easily, anyway. it’s not like it’s anything that serious, if he sticks to his workout schedule for the next couple +

weeks it should go away.

he takes a deep breath and opens his eyes.

oh, fuck. dread drips cold down his neck, resting heavily at the bottom of his stomach. it’s even worse than the first time he looked, his body shaped all wrong, curving at all the wrong places, +

dipping in at all the wrong-

“what are you doing?”

osamu nearly jumps, so distracted he hadn’t heard the keys in the lock. “nothing,” he says immediately. “welcome home,” he offers, trying for a smile.

rintarou looks at him for a long moment before crossing the room, his +

gaze catching on the mirror in front of osamu.

“i think i’ve gained weight,” osamu rushes to explain, his mouth running off before his brain can catch up. “i‘ll have to put more hours into the gym, i don’t know how i let it get like this.”

for a long moment, rintarou doesn’t say anything, watching osamu in the mirror.

osamu swallows. they’ve had this conversation before, osamu feeling unfit. but he’s not sure if rintarou will understand what it’s really about this time, when osamu himself doesn’t know.

he’s never really had this feeling before; at least not as intense. a deep sense of disgust radiating from his very core, scratching at the underside of his skin. he would rip himself apart and tear his organs down to the very last cell, if it would allow him to cease to exist.

“what do you mean, let it get to this?” rintarou says at last.

“well- i shouldn’t have let myself become like this,” osamu explains, flabbergasted. “i used to have abs, rin. you can barely see where they were, now.”

“no,” rintarou says. “i mean why did you imply you let yourself go?”

and all of a sudden, osamu is furious, the irritation that’s been lodged inside his chest since he stripped down to his boxers in front of the mirror bursting into flame. “of course you wouldn’t understand,”

he hisses, whirling around on rintarou. “you’re a professional athlete, you look perfect. not fat and ugly like me!”

he spits out the last part, hot tears prickling at the corner of his eyes.

ah, he thinks numbly, of course. of course he went and blew up +

on his boyfriend, who was just trying to be sympathetic; over some stupid issue about his body. rintarou probably doesn’t even like the way osamu looks anymore. he’s so gorgeous, he could have anyone of his pick. someone fit and hot who has their shit together, +

someone who is decidedly not osamu, who can’t even deal with his problems without crying.

the last part cuts deeper than osamu thought it would, eyes stinging as he tears up properly. pathetic.

he deflates. “sorry i yelled at you,” he mutters. “i’m just in my own head. i’ll get over it.”

he starts to turn away, wanting to grab his towel so he can take a long, hot shower; when rintarou grabs his wrist.

“osamu,” osamu stills. rintarou sounds absolutely pained, desperation slicing into his voice. “do you really think that?”

osamu’s breathing quickens, quickly casting his eyes up to the ceiling so his tears don’t fall. “yeah.”

rintarou’s fingers burn around osamu’s tainted skin, goosebumps crawling their way up his arm. and then they’re pulling, pulling osamu close to him.

“osamu,” rintarou says, and osamu has to shut his eyes. rintarou’s voice is gentle like a knife to the stomach, so tender it hurts. “my love. will you look at me, please?”

and maybe it’s because he’s been so, so /tired/ lately, or because hating himself is draining, or +

because rintarou only calls him “love” when he really feels it, but osamu obeys.

rintarou smiles slightly when osamu’s eyes meet his, a little rueful, a little sad. his hands go to cradle osamu’s jaw, eyes roving all over osamu’s face. “did someone say something to you? +

or, did-” rintarou’s delicate features twist- “did i make you feel like this?”

osamu takes a shuddering breath. “no,” he says, hand going to cover rintarou’s; “never you. i just- i’m so tired, rin,” he confesses quietly. “the store isn’t going well, and i don’t look like what +

i used to anymore. everything’s slipping out of control, and i dunno what to do.”

rintarou brings his forehead to osamu’s, and the closeness makes osamu look up. “did you know i’m amazed by you every day?”

it catches osamu so off guard he nearly splutters. “what?”

“everyday i look at you and am so impressed by you, samu.” rintarou says, eyes wide. “you’re barely twenty, chasing your dreams. in an industry so competitive, no less. and it’s so tough, but everytime there’s a problem you grit your teeth and soldier ahead anyway.” rintarou’s +

gaze goes soft when he hears osamu’s breath hitch, thumb going to stroke the side of his face. “so brave, so talented. and i’m blown away everytime i eat your food, baby. do you know how incredible you are? how every time i look at you i can hardly believe you’re mine?”

the tears well up again, but the bitter, nasty edge is gone, replaced by a kind of fullness that tugs at his heart. “you’re obligated to say that,” osamu protests, albeit weakly. “you’re my boyfriend.”

“and do you know why you’re my boyfriend?” rintarou counters, releasing +

osamu’s face only to hold his neck, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “because i fell in love with you, all of you. your determination, your conviction. how you’re funny and kind, always so sweet and considerate to everyone you meet. you’re so wonderful, osamu,” rintarou says,

a little breatheless. his eyes are shining, and osamu is pinned, barely able to react to so much fondness, so much love. “you make me so happy, and i’m so happy that you’re mine, and i’m happy that i get to go through life with you by my side.”

he presses another kiss to the spot he’s kissed before, like he can’t help it. “i don’t care how you look,” rintarou murmurs next to his ear, hugging osamu close. “because no matter what you look like, you’re still the beautiful soul i fell in love with.”

“i don’t think i’ll ever stop falling for you, osamu,” rintarou says, hands stroking soothingly along osamu’s sides. “you’re so hot i hardly know what to do with myself.” osamu blushes, opening his mouth to argue when rintarou sends him a /look/. “don’t you even try, mister. +

“you know how many people try to hit on you on the street. but they can’t have you,” he says, and osamu shivers a little at the possessive intent. “do you have any idea how irresistible you are? this insanely handsome face,” rintarou wrinkles his nose in mock dissatisfaction, +

grabbing osamu’s face and smacking a kiss to his mouth with an obnoxious muah!. “these strong arms,” he sighs dreamily, running his hands down osamu’s shoulders. “makes my stomach go funny when you pick up the bags of rice like they weigh nothing, +

“samu, want you to have your way with me.”

“rin,” osamu protests, face aflame.

“what?” rintarou says, nonplussed. “i can’t tell my boyfriend he does things to me? and these, ooh,” he grins, squeezing osamu’s pecs. “you’re so /broad/, dearest, it’s so hot. you’re so hot,” +

rintarou compliments. “have i ever told you how much i love it when you hold me from behind? you’re always so solid and warm, makes me feel so safe. loved.” rintarou smiles at him, kissing the crown of his head. “i love you so, so much, osamu, and nothing can change that.”

osamu shudders. because there’s nowhere to hide, now; not when he’s trapped in rintarou’s firm arms, when he’s looking at osamu with so much love. “really?”

“baby,” rintarou murmurs, and the look on his face makes osamu’s knees go weak. “how could i be anything else?”

and it’s there when osamu loses his grip on tightly held tears, letting them fall as he drops his head on rintarou’s shoulder. “i dunno,” he says, muffled. “i was scared. i felt alone.”

“well, then i’ll just have to remind you more often that you’re not.” rintarou says,

easy as breathing. he hugs osamu tighter, like he’s trying to leave a physical imprint on osamu so he aches with the reminder of rintarou’s presence for days and weeks, the sweetest pain. “if you really hate the way you look, we can +

look into ways to make you feel better about yourself, and i’ll support you through any goals that you have. but you have to remember that i love you as you are, okay? and i’m always going to be on your team.” rintarou finishes with a kiss the side of osamu’s face.

and osamu shakes, trying to hold himself upright, before he remembers that he doesn’t have to. so he lets himself melt, a bag of bones and blood, only defined by his dreams and this person, his person, who kisses strength into his soul and tells him he’s okay to just be.

THIS TOOK SO LONG this was again going to be a cute fluffy little idea why does it always end up this way

a/n (shut up!!!): i just. really love the idea of sunaosa being the person mos in each other’s corners, who just are each other’s biggest fan they’re just SO !!!! they make me so happy