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If there’s anyone to blame, it’s Kuroo.
Almost every major thing that has happened in Bokuto’s life so far, both good and bad, lead back to Kuroo one way or another. Usually, the end results in either Bokuto thanking Kuroo profusely for the amazing life-altering event, or Bokuto sulking dejectedly for at least an hour before doing about fifty spikes while imagining it’s his best friend’s face he’s slamming down onto the other side of the court.
It’s always been this or that.
But.
This time, Bokuto is still undecided as to whether he wants to thank Kuroo, or to not speak to him for at least ten months. The reason for this is because Bokuto still can’t figure out whether his situation is a good one or a bad one.
After all, how does one react to suddenly getting a stranger for a boyfriend, and one as stunningly pretty as Akaashi Keiji at that? Bokuto sure doesn’t know.
And, honestly. It was all supposed to be just a harmless prank.
~
It happens a little over a week after the start of classes.
“There,” Kuroo says, tilting his head towards two students descending the staircase.
First years, Bokuto thinks. He’s never seen them before. One’s got a headful of dark and messy hair, head turned towards the shorter of the pair who has obviously-dyed blond hair with the roots already showing, head ducked down and focused on a PSP game.
“Which one?” Bokuto asks, wiping his palms down the front of his school slacks and mentally preparing himself.
Kuroo hums thoughtfully for a second, and Bokuto glances at him. His lips are already pulled into that mischievous grin that unsettles mostly everyone but Bokuto, eyes sharp as he examines their targets. Finally, after a short pause, he decides, “The taller one.”
“Okay.” Bokuto nods, plastering on a wide smile. The two first years are nearing them now, and Bokuto steps out into the hallway with a confident grin. They’ve done this countless of times before, done a whole bunch of other little, harmless things for laughs, enough to gain a reputation of sorts. He’s a pro. “Hey, hey, hey!” he calls loudly, and he sees some of the older students roll their eyes at him knowingly.
The first years stop walking. Bokuto doesn’t give them much time to react or appraise the situation. He immediately raises his hand for a high five, which the dark-haired boy returns confusedly after a second’s pause, seemingly out of reflex more than anything else. Blondie doesn’t even bother looking up from his game.
Bokuto can hear Kuroo snickering behind him, so he initiates phase two and tangles his fingers with the first year’s, before lowering their hands and grinning even wider. “Surprise! We’re dating now!”
Only then does he take a proper look at the first year’s face in order to gauge his reaction.
Half-lidded, disinterested eyes stare back at him, slowly blinking. The boy’s hair isn’t really messy, Bokuto realizes, instead curling slightly at the tips to frame his face, and his lips are parted in the slightest hint of surprise. He’s… really pretty. Like, incredibly pretty.
Bokuto has seen a lot of pretty faces in his lifetime, but none of them have been as pretty as this boy’s. And he’s not the over-the-top, too-obvious kind of pretty, either, but rather a simple, quiet, and unassuming kind of pretty. Bokuto is almost tempted to call him beautiful.
Pretty Boy blinks again, glances down at their joined hands.
And then, he says in a quiet and calm voice, “Alright.”
Bokuto, perhaps for the first time in his entire life, is actually speechless. This is not the reaction he was aiming for, no. This is the last thing he expected. He was aiming for surprise, maybe indignation or protest, or a laugh. Not… not acceptance. Bokuto feels at a loss of what to do now.
Kuroo, bless him, probably senses his best friend’s predicament and steps in to save the day.
“Excuse me,” he says, voice and smile pleasant. Bokuto faintly notices Blondie glancing up to cast a brief, disinterested glance towards Kuroo’s direction, before returning to his PSP. “I need to have a word with him. Class stuff and all. If you’ll excuse us.” And then he pulls Bokuto away.
Except Bokuto’s still holding hands with Pretty Boy, and they kinda stumble a little because apparently, Bokuto’s lost physical control over his own body parts too. Kuroo has to physically shake Bokuto’s hand off of the first year’s, because for some unknown reason, Pretty Boy doesn’t make an effort to let go either.
“Ah, there we go, sorry for the bother,” Kuroo says once their hands are free, tone polite. Bokuto doesn’t really pay much attention beyond that as he’s dragged away from the scene, still at a loss for words.
He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even notice when they stop. Kuroo has to grab him by the shoulders and shake him just to get him to pay attention. “Bokuto, bro. Are you okay?”
Bokuto blinks. They’re in the comfort rooms, he notes. “What just…” he trails off, blinks. “Did Pretty Boy just agree to be my boyfriend?”
Kuroo’s eyebrows climb up his forehead. “Pretty Boy?”
“You know”—Bokuto makes an impassive face in a poor imitation of Pretty Boy’s, before shaking his head quickly and looking at Kuroo with wide eyes—“that first year. He’s pretty. Did you not see his face?” He blinks. “Wait, did I just get a boyfriend? He knows it was a joke, right?”
Kuroo just shrugs and solemnly pats him on the shoulder in response.
~
“Don’t look now,” Kuroo begins the following day, whispering lowly, “but your boyfriend is walking over here this very moment.”
Bokuto chokes on his food, which prompts a series of violent coughing. Kuroo thumps him on the back uselessly, and Bokuto’s just beginning to convince himself that this is how he’ll die when there’s suddenly a hand holding a glass full of water in front of him.
Bokuto doesn’t question it. He’s dying and whoever this person is has come in to save him like some kind of guardian angel. He grabs the glass (and the hand of the person holding the glass) and downs the water, sputtering unattractively as he releases a breath. Kuroo has gone uncharacteristically silent beside him, which is odd because usually he’d be making fun of Bokuto by now, but Bokuto doesn’t ponder over it as he looks up to thank his guardian angel. Hmm. The person’s hands are soft.
When his gaze finally finds the face of his savior, Bokuto wishes whatever piece of food got stuck in his throat just choked and ended him for real because of course it had to be Pretty Boy. Of course.
“Um,” he says intelligently, blinking.
Kuroo loses it. “Bro, gods, that was so lame what the fuck bro—”
Bokuto hisses at Kuroo to shut up.
Kuroo just laughs harder, almost wheezing. “Bro, bro – you’re still – his hand.”
It takes a second for Bokuto to understand what Kuroo is trying to say, and then he jolts and pulls his hands away from Pretty Boy’s. “Ah, sorry, sorry. Um, thank you.” He scratches the back of his neck, willing his blush down because Pretty Boy is still staring at him. “Uh. Do you need anything?”
“Your name,” Pretty Boy says, voice still as calm as it was yesterday.
“Eh?”
“Your name,” Pretty Boy repeats, frowning slightly now. “It’d be weird if I didn’t even know my boyfriend’s name, right? I’m Akaashi Keiji, by the way. Nice to meet you.”
Bokuto stares, gaping. Kuroo has stopped laughing now. “Uh… boyfriend?”
Pretty Boy’s – Akaashi, Bokuto corrects himself – frown deepens. “Yes. Did you not say yesterday that we’re dating now?”
“I…” Bokuto trails off, glancing at Kuroo and silently asking for help. Kuroo just pats him on the shoulder once, as if to say good luck, before getting up from the table and leaving.
“May I sit down?” Akaashi asks. Bokuto just nods dumbly, and Akaashi sits. “You still haven’t told me your name.”
“Bokuto Koutarou,” Bokuto answers automatically.
Akaashi nods, just a small dip of his chin. “Pleased to meet you, Bokuto-san.”
They stare at each other from across the table. The first thing Bokuto can think of is that Akaashi is pranking him back for yesterday by keeping up this whole boyfriend thing, because there’s no other rational explanation to this, right? No one just agrees to date a complete stranger for the heck of it, right? At least, Akaashi doesn’t seem like the type to do so. Make irrational decisions in regards to dating, that is.
So, obviously, this is a prank back.
Bokuto isn’t going to lose to anyone when it comes to pranks, even if they’re pretty boys with soft-looking hair and quietly intense eyes.
So, obviously, there’s no other choice for him other than to play along.
~
Being Akaashi’s boyfriend (pretend-boyfriend? Not-quite-boyfriend? Prank-boyfriend? Bokuto doesn’t really know and he doesn’t really understand) is, well. It’s surprisingly nice.
Lunch somehow becomes routine over the next two weeks, and Bokuto learns quite a few things about Akaashi. Just small things. Mostly bits of information that Akaashi has shared, like what he’s studying and what his favorite food is and when his birthday is and which high school he came from. But Bokuto also learns other things, things that he’s observed himself (and Bokuto’s not really a guy that pays close attention to things, but for some reason he finds himself doing so with the younger boy), like how he can tell how Akaashi’s feeling through his eyes and how he speaks so formally most of the time and how his tone, for some reason, gets softer whenever he says Bokuto-san.
It’s all driving Bokuto a little mad. Yet at the same time, he finds that he genuinely enjoys Akaashi’s company. Bokuto’s a pretty sociable guy, he gets along well with almost everyone and can handle a crowd on his own because he’s awesome, obviously, but… there’s something about Akaashi.
Bokuto (and Kuroo) also learns that Blondie’s name is Kozume Kenma, an acquaintance-sort-of-friend of Akaashi’s from when they were in high school. They had been setters for their respective teams and had played in a lot of matches, both for practice and officially, and they’ve developed this quiet kind of rivalry between them for their entire high school volleyball career.
Of course that prompted a lengthy conversation about the sport, since both Bokuto and Kuroo have been playing since middle school, too. Somehow, they agreed on a friendly match by the end of the month. Kinda like a group date, except with friends.
Except – are they friends? Bokuto isn’t sure.
The only thing he’s sure of is that Akaashi has a pretty smile. This much is obvious, even from just the few times Bokuto’s seen the younger boy’s expression slip into something other than indifference.
~
One important, obvious thing that has slipped from Bokuto’s mind is the teensy tiny fact that boyfriends usually do couple things. Which primarily involves, but is not limited to, kissing.
Right.
They’re going home together for the first time, since they found out that morning that the apartment buildings they live in are within the same area. Usually Bokuto catches a ride with Kuroo, who lives right next door, but he’s been claiming to be busy with afterschool activities quite a lot lately, and today is no exception.
Bokuto doesn’t really buy into it, since he knows Kuroo isn’t the type to do extra academic work, and as far as Bokuto knows, Kuroo isn’t part of any organization either. But he doesn’t question it. Like, sure, he’s a bit stumped that his best friend appears to be hiding something from him, but.
Bokuto has Akaashi for the meantime.
The train is packed that Friday evening with all the seats taken, so they’re forced to stand close to each other. They’re both tall enough to be able to reach the metal bar overhead with no problem, but Akaashi chooses to hold onto the sleeve of Bokuto’s uniform to steady himself instead.
Which, cool. Bokuto is cool with that. Akaashi is cool.
Okay, no, actually.
Akaashi is warm. Bokuto makes that realization in a jam-packed train, with Akaashi pressed close to his front so that there’s only maybe an inch or two of space between them. Akaashi is real and solid and warm, and Bokuto finds himself leaning closer, seeking more of that warmth.
Akaashi glances up at him, and Bokuto realizes how close their faces are.
Wow. Akaashi is really pretty. Bokuto’s already established the fact since the very first time he laid eyes on the younger boy, but with his face this close, it’s a lot more breathtaking. Bokuto could probably count Akaashi’s eyelashes if he just leans closer—
Someone bumps into him, suddenly. He takes a step forward and Akaashi stumbles a step back, nearly getting pulled into the press of bodies in front of them. Bokuto reacts quickly, though, reaching out to wrap an arm around Akaashi’s slim waist to steady him, pulling the younger boy into his chest.
He feels more than hears the small hitch of breath that comes from Akaashi’s throat, and Bokuto’s cheeks warm. He loosens his grip, giving Akaashi the option to slip out of his hold once he’s regained his footing, but the younger boy just steps closer and clutches onto the lapel of Bokuto’s uniform to steady himself more.
Okay, then.
Bokuto fixes his grip around Akaashi’s waist and resolutely looks away, past the heads of the other passengers and out of the glass window towards the blur of city scenery. He’s not that much taller than Akaashi, just enough for him to catch a sniff of the younger boy’s shampoo where Akaashi’s hair brushes over his nose. He smells clean, with the faintest hint of something sweet. Bokuto’s stomach does a small flip.
Prank boyfriends, he reminds himself, frowning aggressively. This is all just a joke, and they’re both just waiting for the other to give in and give up and call it quits. Bokuto won’t be that person. He won’t give up on their fake dating and let Akaashi have boasting rights over him, even though as each day passes, he’s more and more tempted by the idea if only so he could for real ask Akaashi to date him.
And, okay. Isn’t that a revelation.
The train stops at a station, the doors slide open, and people bustle out in a frenzy as even more push inside. The lady sitting in front of them stands, leaving the seat empty. Bokuto waits to see if Akaashi would sit down.
He doesn’t.
So for the rest of the ride, even after more seats get empty (if only for a second, just until a new passenger claims them, but it’s still enough time for either or both of them to sit down, which they don’t), they stand close to each other. Almost hugging. It’s pretty intimate, definitely a boyfriend thing, enough PDA for them to get a few looks from some of the older passengers.
Bokuto finds that he doesn’t really care.
And when they finally get off the train and stand outside the station, they both pause and turn to look at each other. There’s only the faintest hint of light left in the sky that washes Akaashi’s skin in orange. He looks a little ethereal like this.
“I’ll see you on Monday, Bokuto-san,” he says. He smiles, wider than the all of the ones he’s given Bokuto so far, and before Bokuto can properly marvel at it Akaashi is leaning forward and lightly pressing his mouth to Bokuto’s in a simple, sweet kiss.
His lips feel warm and soft, just like the rest of him. They’re gone in an instant, and Bokuto is left standing there with flushed cheeks and a wide smile as Akaashi waves goodbye and starts walking away.
After a few minutes have passed, Bokuto finally shakes himself out of his Akaashi-induced trance.
The first thought that comes into his mind is: this isn’t a prank at all.
~
“He kissed me.”
Kuroo doesn’t even look up from his phone. He’s starting to act a lot like Kenma. “That’s what people in a relationship usually do.”
“No, bro.” Bokuto stares at his reflection with a frown. His hair is a tragic mess today and they’re meant to go to that volleyball friendly group date in about half an hour. “I mean – okay, yes, that’s what couples do, but? Akaashi and I aren’t a couple?”
This time, Kuroo does look up. “But you are?”
“Yeah, but.” Bokuto gives up. Both on the conversation and on his hair. “My hair is hopeless today, dude. It won’t go up.”
Kuroo makes a sympathetic tsk. “Not all of us can have naturally good hair like me, unfortunately.”
“You mean bedhead,” Bokuto says.
“Owl face,” Kuroo fires back automatically. “Now come on, we’re gonna miss our train.”
Everyone is already waiting at the public gym when they get there. And by everyone, that includes – apart from Akaashi and Kenma – Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime, Bokuto’s sort-of-friends from the volleyball club who agreed to tag along with the promise of ice cream after and the temptation of getting past Kuroo’s blocks and absolutely destroying him (Oikawa’s words), and a ridiculously tall and ridiculously enthusiastic half-Russian named Haiba Lev who Kenma brought along.
“He followed me here,” Kenma deadpans.
“That’s only because you promised to practice receives with me, Kenma-san!” Lev protests. He’s a third year in Kenma’s old high school, Bokuto learns. Why is he already that tall.
Kenma side-eyes Lev. “Whatever. You’re not playing anyway. We need someone to keep track of the scores.”
Lev looks like someone’s just shot him. They decide to draw lots to determine the teams, and Oikawa quips about how there are three setters present, which would make things interesting. Lev volunteers to play and have one of the setters take the scores instead, but is immediately shot down.
Oikawa’s wish to destroy Kuroo is immediately crushed when they’re teamed together, along with Kenma. Which means Iwaizumi is in a team with Bokuto and Akaashi.
“Can we redo?” Oikawa pouts. “I want Iwa-chan on my team. And I really want to beat this guy”—he jerks a thumb at Kuroo—“to the dust.”
Kuroo rolls his eyes. “You’re not even the one who’s gonna be spiking.”
“Yeah, but I’m gonna be the one setting. For Iwa-chan, of course.”
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at Oikawa.
Bokuto considers their situation. Iwaizumi had been an ace in high school, just like Bokuto, so they might have a bit of trouble with the ball. They’d both want to spike it, after all. But then again, he might not get Akaashi on his team if they do another draw, and he really wants Akaashi to set for him.
“How about Iwaizumi and Kuroo just switch?” he suggests, to which Kuroo immediately replies with, “No.”
Kenma glances at him. Kuroo glances back. They stare at each other for a while, and then Kuroo sighs, relents. Bokuto doesn’t understand what just happened.
The game is nice. And intense. Oikawa wasn’t kidding about wanting to beat them, and his serves are downright terrifying. Iwaizumi is a good spiker too, and Kenma is a calculating kind of setter that works quite well. Kuroo is good with his blocks and receives, as usual, but what really surprises Bokuto is Akaashi.
Bokuto has been told before that it’s hard to keep up with him. He tends to get into mood swings and sulks when a game isn’t going their way, and he becomes uncooperative with the team. Setters, especially, have trouble matching with his pace when they’re not used to each other, but somehow, Akaashi manages to send him good tosses.
Akaashi manages to send him really good tosses, considering this is the first time they’ve played together. It only took three tries before Akaashi got the hang of what Bokuto likes in a toss, just where he likes to hit and what timing he prefers.
They win at 25-23, and Kenma and Akaashi agree to give Lev a few chances to spike. It’s nice. Making friends is nice.
“This should be a regular kind of thing,” Lev says once they’re all done and changing out of their sweaty clothes.
“For once I agree with you,” Kuroo nods.
Kenma hums. “Maybe not a weekly kind of thing, though.”
“How about twice a month, then?” Oikawa suggests, throwing an arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulders and making a peace sign, which Iwaizumi quickly slaps down. “Ow, Iwa-chan!”
“Don’t you play enough volleyball during and after club?” Iwaizumi grumbles, before adding underneath his breath, “You barely get enough rest as it is.”
“Aw, Iwa-chan, you do care!”
“Don’t make me hit you for real,” Iwaizumi says. Oikawa playfully runs away, and Iwaizumi sighs, before turning to Bokuto. “Speaking of club, have you considered that thing I asked you the other day?”
Bokuto shrugs. “I told you, I’m in if Kuroo is.”
“And I told you,” Kuroo pipes in, “I’ll think about it.”
Iwaizumi frowns slightly, but nods. Bokuto can see Akaashi looking at them curiously, but refrains from asking what they’re talking about. Bokuto gets the feeling that it’ll come up in a future conversation, though.
As promised, they go for ice cream after, and then part ways – Oikawa and Iwaizumi claiming they have things to do (with Kuroo giving them a grin and a thumbs-up, which Oikawa returns enthusiastically while Iwaizumi pointedly pretends not to notice the exchange), and Lev somehow managing to convince Kuroo to practice serves and receives with him at some park, and Kenma reluctantly tagging along.
Bokuto and Akaashi are left in front of the ice cream shop, just standing there.
Bokuto doesn’t quite know what to do. Does he say goodbye? He doesn’t really have anything planned for the rest of the day so he wouldn’t mind having a look around, but he’s not sure if Akaashi is up for that. Before he can decide, Akaashi does it for him by reaching for his hand and saying, “I think there’s a good bookstore near here. Would you mind accompanying me, Bokuto-san?”
Somehow, it turns into an actual date.
After having a look around the bookstore (and about five other shops on their way there), they end up having early dinner at a café. Akaashi seems more open, particularly with his expressions, Bokuto’s noticed. It’s not a too drastic kind of change, because by now Bokuto’s pretty much figured out that Akaashi isn’t really an expressive kind of guy, but.
He still notices.
He notices the softness around Akaashi’s eyes and the easy way his lips pull into tiny smiles and the lightest tinge of pink on his cheeks. Bokuto notices everything with and about Akaashi.
It’s when they’re heading for the train station that Bokuto realizes one thing with sudden clarity: this isn’t a prank anymore. Maybe it never was, at least not for Akaashi.
The realization leaves a heavy, sinking feeling in Bokuto’s stomach, but it’s neither dread nor panic. In fact, apart from that one feeling, Bokuto feels pretty happy.
They kiss again before finally parting ways. It lasts longer than their first kiss, and when they pull apart Akaashi leans in to press one final lingering kiss against the corner of Bokuto’s mouth.
“Thank you for today, Bokuto-san,” he murmurs softly.
And then he’s pulling away and smiling his small, reserved smile, the one that’s only meant for Bokuto to see.
It’s not until Bokuto finds a text message from Akaashi on his phone as he’s getting ready for bed that night, just a simple ‘I hope you sleep well, Bokuto-san’, that he realizes what the sinking feeling in his stomach was.
Guilt.
~
“He’s, like, serious about us.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“For real serious.”
“I’ve gathered as much.”
“I feel a bit bad. I got into this thinking it was all one big prank, but he was serious all this time.” Bokuto gets a look of wonder on his face. “But… he likes me. He actually likes me.”
Kuroo pats him on the shoulder.
~
It’s a Friday.
“Hey, Akaashi,” Bokuto begins, stopping in his tracks. This is usually where they go their separate ways, but Bokuto is feeling a little braver today.
Akaashi turns his head slightly. “Yes, Bokuto-san?”
“Do you, um.” Bokuto scratches his cheek, glancing off to the side for a second before turning to Akaashi determinedly. “Do you maybe want to come over?”
Akaashi blinks. “To your apartment? Won’t your roommate mind?”
Bokuto shrugs. “Nishinoya’s a cool guy, so no, he won’t mind. He can be pretty loud, though.”
“I’m used to loud,” Akaashi says, before his lips pull up a little, and. Is that a smirk? “I’m dating you after all, Bokuto-san.”
Bokuto’s mouth drops open, his eyes widening for a second before he bursts into laughter. Akaashi is smiling at him, small and – dare Bokuto think it? – fond, and something warm settles in Bokuto’s chest. “Is that a yes, then?”
“Yes, Bokuto-san. I’d like to come over.”
Akaashi’s fingers fit perfectly between his, Bokuto thinks.
~
Nishinoya stumbles out of his room, wrestling with the buttons of his shirt. He’s dressed quite nicely today. Bokuto realizes why even before Nishinoya says, “Bokuto, I’m going out – oh. Hello.”
Akaashi bows slightly. “Pardon the intrusion.”
“Ah, Noya, this is Akaashi Keiji.”
Nishinoya bows briefly, and then does that thing where he points at himself with his thumb and stands like he’s someone cool. Which he is. Bokuto only rooms with people as cool as him, after all. “Nice meeting you! I’m Nishinoya Yuu. Are you Bokuto’s classmate?”
“No,” Akaashi says. “I’m his boyfriend.”
Nishinoya blinks. “Oh.” Then he grins and turns to Bokuto. “Man, you never mentioned a boyfriend!”
“It never came up in conversation,” Bokuto says, and then there’s a knock on the door. They all pause.
“That would be my own boyfriend,” Nishinoya says after a second, fixing his shirt and running a hand through his hair to further push it up. He walks past them and grins, patting Akaashi casually on the shoulder and shooting Bokuto a thumbs up. “I’d probably be staying at Asahi’s tonight. Make yourself at home, Akaashi.”
Bokuto fights down a blush at Nishinoya’s insinuation. He waves at Azumane when Nishinoya opens the door and steps out, who smiles and waves back. And then they’re leaving, and Bokuto is officially alone with Akaashi for the rest of the evening.
A brief moment of silence passes between them, until Akaashi clears his throat and Bokuto snaps back into reality.
“Would you like something to drink, Akaashi?” he asks.
“Tea is fine,” Akaashi says, and Bokuto leads him into the kitchen.
They don’t say anything to each other as Bokuto makes them tea, and he wonders if Akaashi is just as nervous as he is. It doesn’t really seem like it, since the younger boy still looks as calm and composed as ever, but once or twice Bokuto catches him glancing around shiftily and worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says after a moment.
“Yes?”
“What was that thing Iwaizumi-san asked you?”
Bokuto hands him his tea, and Akaashi murmurs a soft ‘thank you.’ “Ah, he was just asking me if I would return to the club.”
“The volleyball club?”
“Yeah. I joined last year. I’m still technically a member, I think. At least on paper. But I don’t go to practice anymore.”
“Why so?”
“Eh. There was an issue between me and one of the setters – not Oikawa. Just.” Bokuto waves a hand, not really sure how to explain it. “I’m… a moody person, I’ve been told. And one of the setters and I couldn’t manage to get along and make it work because he thought I was childish and he didn’t want to deal with my moods. So I left. I’ll admit I was in one of my dejected moods when I made that decision, but yeah. I haven’t come back since.”
“Oh,” Akaashi says.
“Kuroo left when I did, too, because we’re best bros for life and where one goes, the other follows,” Bokuto adds to try and lighten the mood, but Akaashi’s face remains serious. Contemplative, almost.
Then, “I’ll set for you.”
“Huh?” Bokuto asks, sure he’s heard wrong.
“I’ll set for you,” Akaashi repeats. “I haven’t decided on a club yet. It’s quite late to join one now, but they usually accept applications again come the second half of the academic year, right?” Bokuto nods, and Akaashi continues, “If you decide to come back by then, I’ll join the volleyball club and set for you.”
And then he smiles.
Bokuto realizes with a sudden jolt of panic, quickly followed by the fluttering of maybe a thousand butterflies (or owls, more like) in his stomach, that he’s falling.
Afraid that he’ll spill too much if he says anything, he just settles with a simple, “Okay.”
~
They sit on the couch and turn the television on to some program, Bokuto only half-paying attention to it. He’s more aware of Akaashi’s presence, sitting close beside him but not close enough for them to be touching. Neither of them have changed out of their uniforms yet, and Bokuto wonders if Akaashi would be open to the idea of staying the night. Bokuto would have to lend him some of his clothes if ever. Hm. He’d look good in that one owl sweater Bokuto has.
He feels Akaashi shift closer after a while, and Bokuto turns his head to find Akaashi looking at him through half-lidded eyes. Bokuto slowly sets the remote down.
The television program is quickly forgotten then in favor of trading lazy kisses on the couch, Bokuto pressed against the armrest with Akaashi on his lap. There’s a hand tugging lightly on his hair and another pressing warmth against his chest. Bokuto wonders if Akaashi can feel the thud of his heart beneath his palm.
Bokuto presses his lips against the side of Akaashi’s neck, and the younger boy hums quietly. He’s probably smiling. Bokuto pulls back and cups the side of Akaashi’s face, and the look on the younger boy’s face is the most genuine Bokuto’s ever seen it.
Bokuto watches as Akaashi’s lips part slowly, words spilling from his tongue one by one.
“I like you, Bokuto-san.”
I like you, too, Akaashi. The words sit on the tip of Bokuto’s tongue, but he can’t say them. Not yet. He can still feel the lingering traces of guilt, and he needs to come clean about everything first, needs to be completely honest. “Akaashi, there’s something I have to tell you.”
A flicker of an emotion passes in Akaashi’s eyes, but it’s gone before Bokuto can figure out what it is. He slips back onto the empty space of the couch, off of Bokuto’s lap, and waits.
Bokuto takes a deep breath and sits up properly. He already misses Akaashi’s warmth. “Remember what I told you the first time we met?”
Akaashi blinks slowly. Bokuto watches the way his lashes sweep over his pale cheeks with the movement. “Yes. You said we were dating after you asked me for a high five.”
“And – and you just agreed.”
“Yes.” Akaashi blinks again. Bokuto likes to think that over the weeks he’s known Akaashi, he’s gotten good at reading what the younger boy is feeling through the small, barely-perceptible changes in his expression. They’re such opposites in that manner, really. Bokuto is an open book with his emotions, loud and easily gets into mood swings where Akaashi is collected and guarded and quiet.
This time, Bokuto hasn’t the slightest clue what Akaashi is thinking. Nothing on his face gives him away.
“Uh,” Bokuto says, after a pause. “What did you think of that?”
Akaashi doesn’t answer immediately, as though he’s thinking of what to say. And then, “I thought it was… a strange way of confessing to someone.”
There are about a hundred other places Bokuto would rather be than here, right now. But he has to do this if he wants to properly date Akaashi. He takes a deep breath and decides to just get it over with, says, “Yeah, that. It wasn’t a confession.”
Akaashi doesn’t react at first. He just stares.
And then, in a quiet voice, “Oh.”
Bokuto waits for him to say more, but instead Akaashi just stands up from the couch and straightens his shirt. He turns his body towards Bokuto but doesn’t actually look at him, bowing slightly and saying, “Thank you for the tea. I’ll see you around, Bokuto-san.”
And then he’s leaving. Bokuto scrambles up from the couch and follows him to the door. “Wait, Akaashi, wait. Don’t leave yet, I need to—”
Akaashi turns and smiles, but it’s not a real smile. Bokuto can tell that much. “It’s alright, Bokuto-san.”
It’s not, but before Bokuto can say that, Akaashi is stepping out of the door and shutting it close. Quietly. Firmly.
Bokuto isn’t sure how long he stands there, waiting for Akaashi to come back.
He doesn’t.
~
Not speak to Kuroo for at least ten months. That’s what Bokuto is going to do.
That’s what he’s supposed to do, at least.
So naturally the first thing he does, once he’s managed to pick himself up enough to initiate communication with another human being, is to call Kuroo.
“Bro,” Kuroo answers after the third ring.
“This is all your fault,” Bokuto mumbles into his phone.
He can imagine Kuroo’s eyebrows lifting. “What is?”
“Akaashi told me that he likes me. Outright.”
“You’re welcome?”
“I’m not done yet,” Bokuto mutters. “Then I felt guilty about, you know. So I told him. He didn’t know it was a prank at first, he thought it was some weird kind of confession.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“Yeah. Then he walked out on me.”
Kuroo whistles lowly. “That’s rough. Need me to come over with some comfort food?”
“It’s the least you could do. This is all your fault, after all.”
“Bro, I’m already stepping out of my door. Be there in thirty seconds.”
~
Monday is weird.
Akaashi still greets him with a polite nod whenever they pass each other, and each time Bokuto wants to stop and reach out and explain himself, but he doesn’t.
Tuesday and Wednesday are awkward.
Apparently, Kuroo and Kenma are close buddies now who need to eat lunch together everyday. Bokuto tags along because he doesn’t really know who else to eat with – he doesn’t want to intrude on Oikawa and Iwaizumi who are sitting by a table by the far end of the room, acting grossly couple-like (Bokuto doesn’t mean that in a rude kind of way, he just doesn’t like third-wheeling). But then it somehow slips his mind that Akaashi is friends with Kenma, which means he also joins them for lunch. They don’t talk, and Kuroo is far too engrossed in Kenma to notice the tension.
(If Bokuto weren’t feeling so dejected, he would’ve been suspicious of that behavior).
Thursday is just downright depressing.
Akaashi starts talking at lunch, but not to him. He quips in small comments in Kuroo and Kenma’s conversations, and Bokuto glares at his supposed best friend the entire time. This is even worse than third-wheeling. He briefly considers getting up and joining Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s table, but when he looks over Iwaizumi’s got Oikawa in some kind of chokehold and he’d rather not get in the middle of that.
Friday, Bokuto snaps quietly and comes to a decision.
He’s going to make things right.
~
“Hello?”
“Hey, Akaashi. It’s me.”
“Oh.” A short pause. “Bokuto-san.”
It sounds strange. Almost foreign. It doesn’t sound right at all.
Bokuto pushes on, anyway. “Can we meet up somewhere? I have something I really need to tell you. We can have coffee if you like coffee.” He laughs, humorless, nervous. “I don’t even know if you like coffee, what kind of boyf—” He stops. “Just. Please?”
Another pause, longer this time. Bokuto almost convinces himself that Akaashi is going to say no and hang up, really, Bokuto wouldn’t blame him, when a sigh crackles through the phone speaker, followed by a soft, “Okay.”
Bokuto counts it as a good sign.
~
Bokuto has been sitting by a table located in the corner of the small café for about fifteen minutes before he sees Akaashi step inside. He freezes, wondering if he should call or wave the younger boy over, but before he can decide Akaashi’s gaze lands on him and he starts walking over.
He looks soft and comfortable in his thick sweater, but his expression is guarded. Bokuto misses having him close, misses him so much.
“I hope you weren’t waiting too long, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says in lieu of a greeting, taking the empty chair across Bokuto.
“No, I – hi.”
“Hello.”
Neither of them speak. Bokuto catches one of the baristas glaring daggers at him, a grumpy-looking tall boy with mean eyes. He hasn’t exactly ordered anything since he got here, and he briefly wonders if they’re going to get kicked out.
“Do you want anything?” he asks Akaashi, at the same time the younger boy asks, “What did you want to talk about?”
They both stop. Close their mouths. Stare at each other.
Then, “Coffee would be okay.”
“Okay. Uh, wait here.” Bokuto gets up and approaches the counter to order. Mean Eyes’ coworker, a small guy with a shock of orange hair, is the one to take his order. Mean Eyes is the one who makes it, and Bokuto alternates between glancing at their table to make sure Akaashi is still there and glancing at Mean Eyes to make sure he doesn’t put anything suspicious-looking in their drinks.
He returns to their table after and hands Akaashi his coffee, slipping back into his own chair. He clears his throat, watches as Akaashi takes a sip of coffee, and looks down at his own drink. “I need to apologize.”
Akaashi hums in acknowledgement, and Bokuto takes it as a cue to go on.
“Kuroo and I, we always do pranks, yeah? Ask all the second and third years, we’re kind of notorious for that. But they’re all harmless jokes, I swear, but you – you didn’t react like you were supposed to.”
“So this is my fault?” Akaashi asks, an edge to his voice, and Bokuto quickly shakes his head.
“No, that’s not what I’m trying to say. Shit, I’m so bad at this.” He groans and rubs a hand over his face, muttering lowly, “So not cool, Bokuto. You’re not awesome at all, come on, get yourself together.” He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly, before looking up with brand new determination and staring straight into Akaashi’s eyes.
Akaashi doesn’t look away, though Bokuto detects a brief flicker of surprise that passes over his face, gone in an instant.
“At first, I thought you were only trying to get back at me, and I wasn’t going to let myself get out-pranked. Or, whatever. So I decided to play along until one of us gave up, but I eventually realized that it wasn’t a prank to you and soon enough it wasn’t to me, either, because I genuinely enjoyed being with you. When you told me you liked me, I decided to come clean about it because the guilt was eating away at me and I wanted to date you properly, but then I’d have to be completely honest because trust is important in a relationship or something, Nishinoya’s always been going on about that, but…”
He pauses, takes another breath. “I’m bad with feelings. I told you I get into these awful moods and never know how to properly handle my emotions, and that’s my problem, but. I want to try. With you. I didn’t manage to tell you all of this before you left and now I am. And I’m really sorry.”
Akaashi doesn’t say anything for a while, just stares. His eyes look a little wide, a little stunned. It’s the first genuine emotion that Bokuto’s gotten out of him in the span of their conversation, in the span of the past week.
Then Akaashi’s face composes itself, settles back on a more neutral expression, though his eyes remain troubled. “Bokuto-san, do you know what made me so upset?”
Bokuto swallows, speaks past the lump in his throat. “What?”
“When I told you I like you, you didn’t say it back.” Akaashi’s mouth twists, like he’s going to cry, and it’s startling. “I’m not stupid. I knew it wasn’t a completely serious thing at first, but I thought, why not give it a shot and see where it leads to? Because you – I was interested. I found you interesting. The more I spent time with you, the more I found myself liking you. And I thought you did, as well.”
“But—”
“Please let me finish, Bokuto-san.” Bokuto shuts his mouth, and Akaashi takes a deep breath, downs about half of his coffee. His hands are trembling slightly, Bokuto notices.
Akaashi sets the cup down and takes another deep breath, as though he’s steeling himself. “When you told me that it was a joke, I felt. Stupid. And I never feel stupid. Except with you, I guess. You make me stupid. The fact that I agreed to come meet you here shows just how stupid I am for you. I think the entire time, I knew it was a joke, but you – it felt genuine. Even on your part. So I held out hope.”
“And it was genuine,” Bokuto insists, wincing. “Eventually, at least. I told you, I want to date you properly. I’m being genuine right now.”
“You still haven’t said it outright,” Akaashi murmurs.
“Said what?” Bokuto asks, confused, because what else is there to say? Akaashi looks at him, really looks at him, face open and expectant and – oh.
Oh.
Bokuto feels something click into place. “Akaashi.”
“Yes, Bokuto-san?”
Bokuto allows himself a small smile. “I like you. I like you so much. I like you a stupid amount.”
Akaashi, after a second, returns the smile, and it’s real. Bokuto suddenly feels light, like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders, like everything will be alright.
“Bokuto-san?”
“Yes, Akaashi?”
“Come back to my place.”
~
“Nice receive, Kuroo!”
“Akaashi!”
Bokuto waves, screaming even though he knows it’s not necessary. Akaashi will toss to him, no matter what. Even if there are three other spikers on their side of the court, Akaashi will set for him as much as possible.
“Bokuto-san!” Akaashi tosses to him, easy as anything, and Bokuto hits a perfect straight down the other side of the court, ending their practice match.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto yells, victorious. “That was so awesome, Akaashi, did you see that?” It’s a pointless question. He knows Akaashi always watches him. They both know it.
Still, Akaashi answers, because he always answers Bokuto, “Yes, Bokuto-san. I did.”
Their teammates thump Bokuto on the back, and then Bokuto is racing towards Akaashi, arms open. Akaashi just stands there with the flattest expression ever, but Bokuto knows. He can see the smallest of twitches by the corner of Akaashi’s mouth, the faintest beginnings of a smile.
Bokuto scoops him up into his arms and spins him around, ignoring the others’ fake groans. They should be used to this by now, anyway. And it’s not like Bokuto and Akaashi are the only couple in the club fond of PDA, Oikawa and Iwaizumi are on their team, come on, those two are far worse and showy.
“Tone down the PDA, guys, seriously,” Kuroo says.
Bokuto sets Akaashi down and sticks his tongue out at Kuroo. “You’re not one to talk, Kuroo! Your boyfriend always shows up whenever we have a match.” He points at Kenma, who quickly ducks behind his PSP as though it can hide him. Kuroo just sticks his tongue back out at Bokuto and runs off to Kenma.
Bokuto still can’t believe all the time his best friend’s been suspiciously absent was spent with Kenma, of all people, and that they’ve been off romancing themselves while Bokuto and Akaashi were off falling in love.
Falling in love. Wow.
Later, when Bokuto and Akaashi are tucked away in the privacy of Bokuto’s bedroom, Akaashi whispers a few words that make Bokuto feel like he’s just experienced the greatest, most wonderful crash of his life.
“I love you, Koutarou.”
This time, Bokuto’s response is immediate, the words easily falling from his lips like they’re the most natural thing in the world.
“I love you, too, Keiji.”
~
(Begrudgingly, Bokuto reminds himself to thank Kuroo, after all.)