"Osamu, you packed the sandwiches I made, right?" Chuuya says from where he lies on his tummy, towel beneath his body and the sun shining down on him. He props his head in his hands and peers at Osamu, a pair of sunglasses on his face and his long, wavy tangerine hair tied back in a half-ponytail half-braid. His upper torso was bare; his beautiful, sun-kissed, freckled skin in all it's glory for Osamu to admire and gaze upon. For a moment, Osamu doesn't even answer Chuuya. He's too distracted by the elegant slope of Chuuya's shoulders; too drawn to the moles on Chuuya's sharp collarbone; too enamored by Chuuya being Chuuya.

However, after Chuuya stares at him, expression expectant and a bit irritated at his lack of answer, Osamu jolts to the present. He laughs softly, leaning forward in his red-and-white fold up chair and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Sorry Chuuya ~~" Osamu shimmies out of his chair and plops down onto the sand next to Chuuya's towel, draping himself over Chuuya's side and throwing his arms around Chuuya's shoulders. "O great one, will you forgive this forgetful fellow ---"