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To say you’d gotten accustomed to your husband’s family’s boisterous nature would be a stretch, but you knew more or less what to expect by now.
The same could not be said for Sakusa, who was looking very stiff and out of place in the living room of the Miya household. It would’ve been almost comical if you hadn’t experienced the same thing when you’d first met the family. Maybe not in quite the same way, but you could empathize nonetheless.
Deciding to take pity on your not-yet brother-in-law (neither he or Atsumu had ever mentioned anything about marriage, but that hadn’t stopped you and Osamu from placing bets on who was going to propose first. Your money was on Atsumu), you started making your way over to him. You’d only really met a handful of times, but it seemed likely that you would start seeing each other more often; might as well get used to each other’s company.
“You’re looking mighty stiff over here,” you teased lightly. “Not that I can blame you for it.”
Sakusa looked over to where the twins were bickering over who knows what in the kitchen before answering.
“It’s certainly a lot to take in,” he stated.
You chuckled. “No argument there. I’d say you get used to it, but… let’s just say there’s always something in the Miya household.” A fond but exasperated expression crossed your features. “But I guess that’s what we signed up for.”
The barest traces of a smile made its way onto Sakusa’s face.
“Yeah, I guess we did.”
The two of you fell into casual conversation from there. He was a bit prickly to start with, but Sakusa gradually relaxed as the conversation progressed. At one point Mrs. Miya joined the conversation, sharing a few stories before heading into the kitchen to get things ready for dinner (and probably to make sure her sons hadn’t wrecked the house, too). Both you and Sakusa had offered to help her, but she had declined, insisting the two of you keep chatting.
“Whad’ya think they’re talkin’ about?”
Osamu spared a glance at his brother. “How the hell should I know?” he retorted, turning his attention back to the stove.
There was a pause as Atsumu watched a bit more. “...d’ya think they’re talking about us?” he asked.
That got Osamu’s attention. He looked over to where you were chatting with Sakusa, then turned to face his brother.
“Probably,” he conceded. Atsumu didn’t answer, too intent on trying to eavesdrop on what was being said in the living room.
There was a lull in the conversation, and you noticed that the kitchen was quiet. Too quiet.
You sighed. “They’re watching us, aren’t they?” you asked without turning around. Sakusa glanced over your shoulder to see that yes, both Miya brothers were watching the pair of you, trying to be subtle and failing miserably.
“Yeah, they are,” he answered, the expression on his face somewhere between amused and irritated.
A sly grin slid over your face. “Say, has Atsumu ever told you about the rice incident?” you asked, purposefully speaking up so they could hear you.
“No, I can’t say that he has,” replied Sakusa, catching on to what you were doing.
There was a clatter from the kitchen, followed almost immediately by Atsumu nearly tripping over his own feet as he all but crashed into the living room, Osamu right on his heels. Turning to face them, you took in the wide-eyed, almost fearful look on their faces; it took a considerable amount of restraint not to laugh at them.
“Who told you about that!” exclaimed Atsumu. “And why were ya gonna tell Omi Omi about it?!”
You only batted your eyelashes at your brother-in-law. “Tell him what, ‘Tsumu? Sakusa and I have just been chatting here, right?” you said innocently, but the impish grin on your face told otherwise. Sakusa only nodded, but you didn’t miss the glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
By this point Osamu had realized that you’d baited them, but he was still wary that you’d tell the story; he wasn’t sure his dignity would recover if any more people knew about it.
“Right,” he started, a feeble attempt at changing the subject, “Well if yer done chatting why don’cha start getting ready for dinner, food’s about done.”
You nodded, still grinning as you walked past them, gently pressing a kiss to your husband’s cheek as you went by. You’d let it go, for now.
Dinner went by smoothly, the dining room full of lively conversation, lighthearted teasing and laughter, and of course good food. The Miya family might be a lot to handle, but they were always nothing short of welcoming. You’d not-so subtly promised to tell Sakusa the story of the rice incident the next time you saw him, which was met with loud protests from the brothers and amused looks from their parents.
It eventually came time for everyone to go home, and you and Osamu headed out to the car after saying goodbyes and promising to visit again soon.
Once on your way, Osamu glanced at you from the driver’s seat.
“So, uhh… who told you about the rice incident?” he asked. He tried to be nonchalant about it, but you didn’t miss the waver in his voice.
You didn’t bother to hide your laughter this time. “I have my sources,” you answered cryptically, still giggling a bit to yourself.
Osamu’s brow furrowed as he started rambling, mostly to himself.
“I certainly didn’t tell ya, and as much as ‘Tsumu can’t keep his big mouth shut I don’t think he’d tell ya either… it was probably Ma, unless Suna still has those pictures…” he trailed off.
You only smiled. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that both he and Atsumu had been the ones to tell you, and that it was only one of the many stories they had drunkenly told that night in an attempt to embarrass each other. What Osamu didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
You’d definitely be asking Suna about those pictures, though.