Work Text:
Akaashi contemplates whether setting fire on his work desk is worth going to jail for. Arson isn’t really his thing—it’s way too messy, he believes—but hey, there’s always a room for trying new things.
He leans back on his work chair, thankful for the divider that conceals the way his face contorts away from his prying co-workers. It’s not that he minds the concern he will sure be getting once they see how disheveled the raven has become, but he isn’t really in the mood to fake a smile and assure them that he’ll be okay, especially if it’s far from the truth.
He’s blaming all of these mostly on his boss, and partly on himself. His boss, because that old fart knows nothing but stack work on top of another, as if his workforce are comprised of machines and not humans who still need to eat three meals a day and have at least seven hours of sleep. Himself, because despite being a stellar employee who finishes his tasks right before the deadline, he has allowed himself to accept more work when he could’ve been resting right now.
Not that he has something better to do with his free time except read books and maybe go to the favorite tea shop he likes to pick up new leaves. But, really, he should cut himself some slack.
While trying to prevent thoughts of setting himself on fire, he hears a slight thud. He looks up, only to see a mess of a hair sporting a questionable smirk, his hand on Akaashi’s desk for some reason. His eyebrows shot up, mouth opening to ask, when the stranger beats him to it.
“You look like you needed this.” The man simply says, pointing to the styrofoam cup he has set on the desk.
The man, despite the messy bedhead he has, looked downright attractive with his well-sculpted features and the vibrant glow of his honey gold eyes. Even the easy-going smirk he has on his lips looks good on him, as if it sits naturally with him, and he has a perfect body build on top of it all.
Before Akaashi could drool over, he has important matters to attend to. First, who is this man and why has he never seen him before?
Keiji was about to ask when the man straightens up, giving him a flash of a smile again before turning away and walking off in the direction of the Editorial Head’s office.
Keiji can only blink, eyes falling back on the cup that was sitting on his desk.
He reaches for it, lifting the lid up to see its contents, even if he can already smell it. Coffee.
“I don’t even like coffee.” He mutters, setting aside the cup when he notices the yellow note that was stuck underneath it.
The paper reads, ‘Loosen up! You look way too pretty to be stressed. xoxo, Kuroo’, written in a horrible handwriting.
Keiji blinks some more.
Pretty.
No one has ever called him pretty before… Good-looking, sure. Attractive. Handsome. Sharp and defined features. But never pretty.
He really, really doesn’t like coffee. He’d take tea over coffee any day.
But he doesn’t mind the extra kick the caffeine would bring. Or that’s what he tells himself, at least.
He lifts the cup up to his lips, and if someone looked close enough, they could see the small smile that appears behind it.
For the following days, now being the fifth one, Kuroo has continued to stop by and give Akaashi coffee.
He never stays long enough for chat, although. He just smiles at Akaashi. Which Akaashi doesn’t mind, since he isn’t even chatty in the first place nor did he have the time for it. Keiji is only able to mumble a quick ‘thanks’ before Kuroo saunters off again. The only communication they share is through Kuroo’s scribbled notes that always accompany the coffee he brings.
It’s just simple words, mostly complimenting Akaashi in any way: ‘nice shoes’, ‘you look lovely in that shirt today’, ‘your hair looks good slicked back’, ‘you look good in glasses’, and, for today, ‘you have a beautiful smile’.
Keiji can’t remember when he showed the man a smile. Unless he saw the one he sports whenever he reads the notes…
Akaashi looks around suspiciously. Despite receiving coffee from Kuroo for almost a week now, he still has no idea who he is. His mother would be disappointed if she knew he’s accepting gifts from a stranger, but there’s something in Kuroo’s aura that Akaashi knows he could be trusted. He wanted to know who Kuroo is, but he always forgets to do so with the immense workload he has to finish.
Looking down on his watch, he sees that it’s break time. He hasn’t taken a break ever since the onslaught of tasks, but right now, he deems that it’s about time to give himself one. So, he stands up and springs off of his desk, in search of the dark-haired man with that mess of a hair.
Before he could make it any farther, a familiar silver-haired co-worker blocks his way. Sugawara looks at him with a big smile, then takes his wrist to drag him off to somewhere before Akaashi could even react.
Suga only stops when they reach the break lounge, immediately pushing Keiji down the couch and takes the seat beside him, palms on the raven’s shoulders to shake him vigorously. “Akaashi! Give me the deets!”
“Deets?” Keiji bats an eyelid.
Suga rolls his eyes in return. “The details! Tell me, what’s with you and the new chairperson? He’s been stopping by your desk everyday! I’m sulking, you haven’t gone out with me because you said you were too busy, but here you are, hiding such a juicy secret!”
“Chairperson?” Keiji’s eyes widen, his hands on top of his lap as he fiddles with his fingers. He is at loss of words. Surely, Sugawara was only mistaken—
“Don’t pretend that you didn’t know.” Suga snorts in an unrefined fashion, leaning back with his arms crossed. “Your boyfriend is the son of the previous chairperson, the title was passed to him just a week ago!”
Akaashi shouldn’t be surprised that Koushi knows a lot. But he is wrong at one thing, so he immediately corrects him for it. “He is not my boyfriend. I don’t even know his given name.”
“What?” Suga looked genuinely shocked, putting his hands down. He is about to protest, but obviously, he is aware that Akaashi never lies. Not to him, at least. “So you’re telling me that the new chairperson has just randomly started giving you coffee?”
Keiji nods. “Pretty much. He gives me notes too.”
“Notes!” Suga perks up, happy that the gossip isn’t as stale as it was bound to have been. “Did he give his number? Is he asking you out on a date?”
Akaashi rummages his pocket, taking out the note he has gotten for today. “Not really, he just tells me what he finds nice about me.”
Suga reads the note that was handed to him. He gasps. “He is totally flirting with you! You should go out with him!”
Akaashi rarely blushes. The rare moment was today. “Don’t say that. Maybe he’s just being nice.”
His silver-haired friend only does the same abrupt snort, as if done derisively. “Sure. If he’s nice, he would’ve bought the whole department coffee, not just you. And you don’t even like coffee, as far as I could remember!”
Sugawara is right, and Akaashi knows it. However, no matter how sweet the gesture Kuroo was doing, he has never gone far with the simple coffee-and-note giving. On top of that, Akaashi isn’t even free for three more days. And now that he knows that Kuroo is technically his boss as well…
Suga, ever with his motherly instincts, picks up on the anxiety that was just starting to bud inside the younger and doesn’t even hesitate to crush it. “Before you could think that far ahead, at least get to know the guy first. He wouldn’t be doing what he shouldn’t do, now that he’s practically the head of this company, would he?” That gains a nod from Keiji. “Good. Have a little faith! And besides, a little illicit work romance sounds sexy, doesn’t it?”
Akaashi rarely laughs as well. The rare moment, again, was today.
The next time Kuroo stops by, Akaashi has decided to set his foot down. Kuroo will not be going away with these mere, shy advances. If he has intentions, he shall be direct with it.
That is exactly what he does when Kuroo was just setting the cup down.
“What do you want from me?” Akaashi asks before he could even think it through.
He wasn’t intending for it to sound so harsh. But surprisingly, it makes the tall man in front of him smile, amusement dancing behind his eyes. “Besides from taking away at least a shred of that stress you’re balling up? A date. Preferably when you’re done with all of your work.”
Keiji was equipped with his next question when he realizes what Kuroo has just said. “A… A date?”
The amusement doesn’t die down from the man’s golden eyes, eyebrows rising as if Keiji was the ridiculous one. “Do you think I give you coffee just for fun? And tell you that you have a nice smile? That’s, like, top on the list of What to Say to a Person You Fancy.”
Keiji hates the way that his cheeks betray him as he flushes a bright red. It’s silly how he has turned into a blushing school girl with a man he barely even knows yet. “Then why didn’t you ask me upfront about it yet?” He asks. There is no reason for him to beat around the bush when Kuroo is just as direct as he is.
For some reason, this makes Kuroo flustered. His previous confident stance rescinds into an awkward, unsure one. He even tries to casually lean back on the divider, only for him to stumble back. Keiji immediately presses his palm over his mouth to prevent the laugh that the action gets out of him, and Kuroo swiftly whipped his head to see him snicker to himself.
“I was just—” The young chairperson stammers, only to stop and raise his arm to cover half of his face. Akaashi is pretty sure he was hiding his blush, which only made the raven smile fondly in return. “Look, I don’t want to come off as a stalker, but I will come clean and say that I may have asked for your schedule and saw that you were loaded for the whole week.” Kuroo seemed like he didn’t know what to do with his hands, stuffing and un-stuffing it from his pockets. “So I figured that the date has to wait. That is all.”
It feels very odd, but Keiji was already feeling so comfortable with Kuroo’s company. They only met recently, and Kuroo was supposed to be his superior, yet everything about Kuroo’s demeanor just coaxes Keiji to relax in his presence. He was almost tempted to say that he didn’t need the coffee when Kuroo’s presence alone does this to him, but then he figures that it is way too sappy, and he has never been—and never will be—a sap.
“I don’t like coffee.” Akaashi decides to come clean as well. Kuroo evidently deflates, almost looking like a dejected puppy, when the shorter man continues to talk. “But I like the idea of a date. See you in two days, then?”
Kuroo perks up as fast as he has deflated, nodding, the grin he has so bright it was honestly so endearing. “Gotcha. No more coffee, but yes to the date.” The tall man makes an awkward throw of finger guns, which makes the both of them laugh. “I-I guess I’ll go. See you, Keiji!”
Keiji smiles as he watches Kuroo’s back disappear off to the hallway, then he realizes that he was smiling so he immediately drops it. It was too late, though. The divider wasn’t enough to conceal what just happened, so all faces were turned to him, including Sugawara’s who was beaming brilliantly from four desks away.
For the remaining days before their date, Akaashi receives cups of tea from Kuroo this time. He throws a suspicious glance at Sugawara’s desk, who pretends to be immersed in his paperwork when Keiji does so. He sighs, but then it’s all good, since he doesn’t have to deal with the dryness that coffee leaves on his tongue anymore.
Kuroo stays longer than he usually did, too, engaging in small talks with Akaashi that mostly are just about random things. From the talk alone, Keiji already has learned a lot of things from the young chairperson. He finds out that Kuroo is older than him for a year, that he was raised by his grandmother and has just moved to the city during college to learn about the art of handling their business and assume his father’s position, that he used to play volleyball in high school, that he loves cats with a passion, and that his given name is Tetsurou.
Akaashi decides to test how the name rolls around his tongue when he says it on the day of their date.
Kuroo was just on the way to his desk when Akaashi stands up to greet him. He hands a small paper bag to the elder, who blinks in surprise at what he’s been handed with. “Tetsurou,” He starts, already making Kuroo’s eyes widen even more. “You have been so kind and generous towards me. It’s time that I repay the kindness.”
“You didn’t have to—” The words died down in Kuroo’s lips as Keiji throws him a glare, so instead of protesting more, he just gives a grateful smile. “Thank you, Keiji.” He opens the bag, seeing a rather thick pad of sticky notes on it. He takes it out, spotting that there was something written on its pages, but Akaashi moves faster and stuffs the pad back in the bag.
“Read those later!” The blush is evident on the younger’s cheeks, which made Kuroo chuckle softly, nodding as he keeps the bag. He then takes Keiji’s hands in his, giving it an affectionate squeeze and brings his hand up to his lips, pressing kisses on each of the knuckles.
“Let’s go, Keiji?” Tetsurou asks. Keiji responds with a simple nod, not bothering to take his hand off the tall man’s big and warm one, even if they garnered attention as they walk out of the office.
Their first date hasn’t even started yet, but Keiji is already looking forward to their next ones.
“Hand over the money, Morisuke.” Suga says to his brunet officemate, who reluctantly fishes for his wallet and takes a few bills off of it, slapping it on the silver-haired’s table. “I told you, my boy would be dating this year!”
Yaku only huffs, now 1000 yen-less and exasperated. “I didn’t know Akaashi had it in him. That man dives into paperwork like he’s a freaking scuba diver. I wish I had the same enthusiasm.”
Suga eyes the pile of papers that sits untouched on Yaku’s desk and nods. “Yeah, I wish you really did or you’ll get fired. Get to work, now!”
Yaku grumbles as he pulls out folders and flips them open, throwing a glare at his smug senior from time to time. Suga remains unfazed, happily counting his fresh new bills.