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Summary
Instead of answering, Suna asked in the languid tone customary to him, “I could ask the same to you.” A ghost of a smirk pulled on his lips and the amber from the overhead streetlamp shining down on them, illuminated the greens of Suna’s eyes
Osamu jutted his thumb towards the machine, “Tsumu’s slavin’ me around.” Suna raised a single thin eyebrow. “And you agreed just like that? My, my, its gonna hail.” —What if we were both teammates and we cuddled together outside an inn by a vending machine? ft. Miya Osamu and Suna Rintarou. originally written for SunaOsa Fluff Week 2021
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