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As a general rule, Otoya Eita was a chill guy.
Life? He’s breezing through it.
Worries? He’s not thinking about ‘em.
Hotel? Trivago.
Really, he was the epitome of nonchalance. It was something that became even more obvious back in Blue Lock, when he was surrounded by guys who compared the football pitch to battlefields and charged into matches with ferocious abandon. Otoya, on the other hand, preferred a more laidback approach. He was cool, made things look effortless, and he went with the flow to become the world’s best. That’s just the way he’s always been.
Right now though?
Right now, he's losing his goddamn mind.
It’s been twenty minutes and he’s still staring at the same Twitter post, mind blue-screening and thoughts leaking out of his ears and onto a sad, pathetic puddle on the floor. There’s probably a poor fly or two feeling confused as hell in his digestive system, and more to come if he doesn’t shut his damn mouth soon.
(But that’s asking too much of him when he doesn’t think he could even recall his own name right now. He could already hear his ancestors cringing in their graves.)
Because his boyfriend―his perfect, loving boyfriend of four years who he wouldn’t trade for the world―was staring up at him through the screen with a look that could only be described as sultry and a denim jacket thrown over abs that would make a washboard weep.
Oh, and the catch?
Calvin. Klein. Boxers.
Otoya bites back a scream.
He knew his boyfriend was hot. Has known it since they were both hormonal teenagers trapped together in a closed-off facility with tensions running high and skintight suits galore. But an eighteen year old Karasu Tabito was miles different from his twenty-two year old counterpart. An eighteen year old Karasu did not pose for a magazine half-naked with a cocky smile and bedroom eyes that threatened to set Otoya’s insides on fire.
Countless questions race through his mind.
When did this advertisement even happen? Who approved this? Why did his abs look so shiny? And more importantly, which underwear set was he wearing and did he get to bring them home?
He had always assumed Karasu would partner with a snobby, high-end clothing brand before anything else. Clearly, he had been dead wrong and his boyfriend was still full of surprises even after all these years.
Swallowing hard, he rakes his eyes over Karasu’s perfect body one last time (it lasts several minutes) before getting up with a vengeance to look for his passport and overnight bag.
[◉°]
On the plane, Otoya decides to scroll through Twitter to ease his boredom.
Big mistake.
Karasu’s name is trending, and the ad is all everyone can talk about. Normally, Otoya would be beyond proud to see his boyfriend’s accomplishments plastered all over his timeline, but not like this.
Not like this.
@krsverse
retweet if you’d happily let karasu break your back like a glowstick
6,9K Retweets 10,6K Likes
@tabination
I want him to [REDACTED] me while I have his [REDACTED] in my [REDACTED] and he can [REDACTED] [REDACTED]
2,2K Retweets 4,8K Likes
@ohmycaw
one word. TIDDIES.
345 Retweets 1,5K Likes
@hourlytabito
I can be the doormat he steps on im being so serious karasu just one chance PLEASE
1,1K Retweets 2,7K Likes
@karasusmole
can otoya eita fight
1,9K Retweets 3,3K Likes
That last tweet is what ends up pissing him off the most. Because who the fuck did they think he was? Of course he could fight; he didn't spend the formative years of life in a dojo for nothing. He could throw a shuriken in his sleep! He could beat them up with the lights turned off! And he was not about to lose his man to a bunch of perverted twitter users.
He doesn't even realise he’s been biting his lip until the taste of iron floods his tongue. He wipes it off with a tissue, and then quietly debates on the pros of jumping out of the plane when the passenger over on aisle 3 won't stop sending worried glances his way.
[◉°]
There's only one thing stopping Otoya from power-walking out of the airport.
As if the gigantic Calvin Klein store located coincidentally in between the arrivals hall and the exit wasn’t enough, there just had to be a life-sized standee of his boyfriend standing right outside it.
Oh, and he was half-naked too. Go figure.
Otoya doesn’t know how long he spends just staring longingly at the standee, but he does know that it’d look right at home in his living room. He also knows, for a fact, that sooner or later someone is going to recognise him and upload his picture to Twitter and the ensuing embarrassment that’s sure to follow is what eventually tears him away from the store.
Besides, he’s got the real thing waiting (unknowingly) for him anyway.
He hails a cab and spends the entire drive there fantasising about how their first meeting in weeks will go. He’s memorised Karasu’s schedule to know that he didn’t have any training or important meetings right now, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be out running errands or with friends. By the time they pull up to his apartment though, none of it really mattered anymore since Otoya had the spare key and a fiery determination to see his boyfriend even if meteors started raining down on Earth.
The doormen all know him well, so getting into the lift and onto the correct floor is a breeze. What stops him in his tracks though, is the earth-shattering revelation that the only thing separating him and his gorgeous, chiseled, underwear model of a boyfriend right now is that damn door.
(The doorbell doesn’t stand a chance.)
It takes a couple seconds, but the door eventually swings open, revealing Karasu dressed in an old jersey, too-short sweatpants, and a comical look of surprise.
“Wha―Eita?”
Otoya doesn’t give him a chance to finish before he’s jumping straight into his arms, overnight bag falling out of his hands and onto the floor with a graceless ‘thunk!’. To his credit, Karasu doesn’t falter, instead lifting him up and carrying him across the threshold in an impressive show of strength. It makes Otoya giddy with happiness, and he expresses his appreciation with a heated kiss.
“Not that I’m mad,” Karasu says with a small chuckle when they both come up for air. “but what’s got ya here on such short notice?”
“Can’t you guess?”
Karasu gently sets him down on the couch. “Last I checked, our anniversary is still four months away.”
Otoya pulls him in by the collar.
He pouts. “The ad, stupid.”
“Oh.” Karasu stills, looking at him thoughtfully. “Ya saw?”
Otoya scoffs. “Yeah. Me and the entire world. Twitter’s already starting a fundraiser to get you fully naked in the next ad―which I don’t approve of, by the way.”
“Ya don’t have ta take them too seriously.” Karasu says with a growing smirk on his face. Otoya can’t decide if he wants to punch him or tie him down to the bed. “Are ya really that jealous?”
That’s it. Punch to the face it is.
Green eyes narrow menacingly. “You try waking up to see the entire Internet thirsting over your boyfriend’s abs. Do I need to lock you down to get them to back off?”
Karasu sits up straight so he can gape at him. “The fuck? Eita, are ya only proposing ta me out of jealousy?”
Otoya glares up at him. “Tabito, I’ve wanted to marry you ever since first selection when you threw a ball at my head and called me an idiot in your stupid Kansai accent. I’m just speeding up the process here.”
Karasu huffs out a laugh and falls back against the cushions.
“Yer incredible.” He shakes his head.
“And you didn’t tell me about your ambassadorship.” Otoya says sulkily.
“Ah.” Karasu rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry about that. I’ve been so busy it slipped my mind. How can I make it up ta ya?”
Otoya ponders over this.
“Well, if you insist.” Karasu rolls his eyes at that, but before he can make a snarky remark Otoya is already seated on his lap, caging him in and trailing a lithe finger down his chest.
He bats his eyes, lashes fluttering innocently. “Did they let you take the boxers home?”
Karasu’s hands immediately gravitate towards the shorter man’s waist, leaving indents across his skin that will take forever to fade. “They sent me the entire collection actually.” He replies, a wicked glint in his eye. “Why? Ya want it?”
Otoya hums. “No thanks.” His fingers drop to toy with the drawstring and, at the slightest pull, dips down to reveal the brand’s infamous white band.
He licks his lips, green eyes darkening.
“I think they’d look better on the floor.”
Hours later, the Internet is in uproar.
The cause? A single, blurry Instagram story on Otoya Eita’s account.
In it, Karasu is sleeping peacefully. Otoya can be seen smiling cheekily at the camera, head resting against a hard pec and arm slung strategically over his boyfriend’s abs. They’re both shirtless, and a particularly dark bruise, among many others, is starting to form on Karasu’s neck.
Written below it is the caption:
can confirm. #CalvinKlein boxers rule🤘