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Akaashi tries not to regret a lot of things. Really, it’s the truth; he’s a spring wound up so tight in many ways that the last thing he needs to add to the very long list of things he needs to worry about along with remembering Bokuto’s weaknesses and reasons behind his depressive slumps is regretting things.
Sure, sometimes he’s pretty bad at it. Sometimes he’ll spend a whole night replaying about what went wrong and what he needs to do better and figuring out what to do to just fix it (even when realistically it was out of his own control). Sometimes, he tries to pretend that it didn’t happen at all; out of sight, out of mind, or something to that effect — and sometimes that works well enough and he gets on with his day and focuses on the important things.
Important things being: how Bokuto has been gaining a tan with how long he’s been spending under the sun because he was getting jealous how often Karasuno gets to spend outside, even if they’re technically doing these as penalty laps after— how many losses has it been? Konoha said they were at the forty-eighth lap the last time they looked at the updated list. But Bokuto for some reason is jealous, so he somehow convinced the coach to start their warm-ups in the sun, while Saitama is sitting at a hellish 34 degrees celsius.
The rest of the team was unhappy. But Bokuto was thriving just being under the sun, and it shows how it has kissed his skin to this beautiful shade of brown.
The tan makes him look warmer, and in some strange way, softer in places where the sun highlights the high rise of his cheeks then down the line of his throat. It also emphasises how the meat of his thighs — those powerful, toned, and beautiful thighs of his — is delicately squeezed by his new compression shorts. He was adamant on breaking them in, especially since his sisters decided to drop by Shinzen as they were driving out of Saitama to continue their summer road trip through the Kanto region, thereby picking up these as a gift for their precious baby brother before they drive off into the sunset.
Important things also being: how Bokuto is currently drenched head to toe because he had been hit by a perfectly thrown water balloon courtesy of Karasuno’s starting setter. Kageyama’s pinpoint accuracy in his sets is already a threat on the court, but in this battle between all the attending schools, for the seat of Summer Camp King through an impromptu water fight and for some free pudding for their entire team.
(Nekomata-sensei calls it a team building exercise, Akaashi and even Kozume can both agree that this is just some poorly made excuse to hide the fact that half of the coaches were too hungover after trying to out-drink him. They saw Coach Manabu tucked away into the corner of the dining hall with the most ominous aura surrounding his crumpled body. In all fairness, Akaashi can at least admit that it was a smart idea. It cools them all down enough and it’s actually pretty fun and fulfilling to get a hit in against Kuroo and Konoha.)
Bokuto’s shirt clings to his skin like a lifeline; the fabric is soaked through and has made his white shirt almost transparent from how sheer it is. The cotton hugs the shaped muscles of his torso, highlighting the depth of his collarbone as if an open invitation for someone to drag their finger across the plane of the clavicle and follow the path down, down, down between his pectorals, and makes him pause at how the muscle seemingly juts out. Akaashi wonders how it would feel if he were to reach out and dig his finger into Bokuto’s flesh— it looks so soft, how could anyone not think of how it would feel in their hands?
Surely — surely — someone has thought the same, right? It’s not just Akaashi possessed with these thoughts, right? He’s not insane or weird for thinking about how Bokuto’s entire physique is presented before him as he’s preening underneath the raging summer heat, right? Just looking at Bokuto, sun-kissed and boyish and bursting from the seams with an infectious joy, has Akaashi’s chest feel like it has those little strange alien plants that he’s seen Kozume play on his PSP that make weird little sounds and run like their life depends on it. Maybe somehow they’ve actually jumped out of Kozume’s game and planted themselves between his rib cage, and they’re doing somersaults and cartwheels and marching with their tiny feet doing a ta-tap ta-tap ta-tap that sound too close to a ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump—
But Akaashi can’t even think about the schematics of what’s considered impolite and polite thoughts about his best friend slash idol slash senior slash volleyball captain because the argument right next to him is too loud to even get his thoughts in order.
And this is where it all loops back to regret.
Because right now, he really regrets that he decided to sit next to Kuroo and Haiba at the steps of Shinzen’s third gym, watching as the rest try to vie for their rights to the name of Summer Camp King and to that hoard of delicious, free box of FamilyMart milk souffle puddings.
Because at this very moment, he has to listen to them go on and on about how—
“—It doesn’t count as a kiss, Kuroo-san! Just because I shared my bottle with Hinata doesn’t mean I wanted him to kiss me! How does THAT even work?! ”
Akaashi can already hear Kuroo’s smirk just from his next reply, and honestly? He’s so smug about it that even Akaashi feels a little ticked off, even if it’s not directed towards him.
“Oh, you don’t have to play dumb when you’re with your senpai, Lev-kun,” Kuroo coos, and he’s definitely turned up the ‘bastard-o-meter’, as he had heard Nekoma’s starting libero said once from the first camp they had together this year, with how he’s switched to a different name altogether for Haiba. “I get it. Chibi-chan is just too cute to say no to. I mean, if I were in your position and he asked me like—”
His voice rises in pitch.
“—Oh, it’s soooo hot and I’m sooo thirsty, won’t you let me have a drink, Lev? You won’t let me die from dehydration right? I’m too cute for you to say no.”
It’s a horrible impersonation of Karasuno’s tiny freak of a fledgling crow (as he’s heard Sarukui describe him once). Akaashi even wonders if that is Hinata because he knows for a fact that’s now how Hinata talks at all. It’s probably Kuroo’s way of trying to tease his poor kouhai. He’s not looking at them directly, but from the corner of his eyes, Akaashi can see the way the tip of Haiba’s ears are burning bright red.
“KUROO-SAN!” Haiba’s voice breaks. Kuroo is laughing like a hyena and Akaashi swears he sees Kozume and Hinata look their way as Haiba tries to strangle his senior before he says anything more. Kozume is already urging Hinata to just walk away, to which Akaashi offers a mental nod to.
Yes, walk away. Walk away from this madness.
Nobody can really mistake that embarrassed squawk as anything else but some oblivious boy who’s unaware of his own crush on his supposed ‘destined middle blocker rival’. Akaashi is pretty sure that everyone in their little ragtag group of birds and cats is aware of Haiba’s infatuation of Karasuno’s one-half of the freak duo, and Haiba even calls Hinata his ‘destined middle blocker rival’.
(Apparently that’s a Nekoma and Karasuno thing, being destined rivals because of some lore related to Coach Nekomata and the legendary Coach Ukai Sr. It’s little wonder why everyone from Nekoma looks like they have new life blazing behind their eyes when they go toe-to-toe with Karasuno.)
He’s been hearing that sound more often ever since their little practice matches of owls versus cats has them hanging out more, and Haiba has been spending more time with the actual definition of a sun bounding with endless energy and leaves anyone that comes close burning with this desire to compete, to prove themselves to Hinata, and to somehow get even closer to feel his warmth.
In a way, Akaashi pities Haiba, because he somewhat understands the feeling. Bokuto has that same effect on people after all.
Bokuto has this gravitas to him, intertwined in the threads of his character that people often describe as too energetic, too enthusiastic, too over-eager and moody and childish when in fact it’s simply how he experiences life, as far as Akaashi has understood from what he’s observed in the year he’s spent with him. He is a star held together by the gravity of his own confidence, of his own wisdom that only a boy of eighteen summers who has only known how to keep running and smiling even if he was farther ahead than everyone else, and that self-assurance in his own abilities (despite his mood swings) draws in anyone that reach their hand out in hopes of holding that star.
Then, when you fall into their path — whether they be a sun or a star or a comet or a meteor — you couldn’t hope to pull yourself away from their gravitational pull. You become part of their system. You revolve around them, as much as their image is something that haunts you rather than how people would say that your world would revolve around them. They cling to every fiber of your being so that you never forget the feeling of how they draw you in.
It’s why even now, Akaashi’s eyes are still drawn to Bokuto, radiant in summer, shining amidst the onslaught of water balloons and hose alike, and his brain processes the scene before him:
The way his laughter ebbs like the tide of waves — a resounding echo that crashes onto your very being, drags you under into the depths — is a siren song that Akaashi thinks any sailor-souled individual could fall into if they listen long enough. It could be the perfect summer horror story, romanticized with rose-tinted lenses, but there is nothing horrific about knowing the sound of Bokuto’s laugh. It’s honest, innocent and leans to the fairy-tale ending that children dream about. It’s a laugh that chases Akaashi even to the waking world.
Without even realising it, Akaashi finds himself smiling.
It’s only Haiba’s panicked attempts at trying to rationalise the situation about the whole ‘sharing-a-bottle-and-therefore-having-an-indirect kiss-with-your-destined-rival-who-is-also-maybe-or-rather-more-than-likely-someone-that-you-have-a-big-fat-crush-on’ situation that finally puts a stop to studying Bokuto in the prismatic light refracting from the spray of water all around. It’s at that moment that Akaashi finally gives his full attention to Haiba crumpling to the ground about the schematics about what counts as a proper kiss, if sharing a water bottle really is how he gets his first kiss, and it’s with Hinata with all people.
(Haiba makes it sound like it’s an issue when everyone, and he means literally everyone — even Tsukishima agrees with this notion if he was vehemently against the idea — can agree that there is nothing inherently wrong with being fond of how Hinata tries in all his 163 centimetre glory, and that Haiba should even be lucky that he has that opportunity to have his first kiss be with Hinata since he’s so infatuated in the first place.)
“My first kiss— taken away from me in an instant?!” Haiba is pallid, almost as if he’s been possessed by some sort of evil spirit with how he’s pacing to and fro. Akaashi thinks he might be going through the five stages of grief. He’s already at the bargaining stage. “I mean, it’s not like our lips actually touched, right? Right?! It shouldn’t count, should it?!”
All the while, Kuroo is keeling over. What a horrible senpai he is, watching his kouhai go through the motions of his teenage angst just for the bit. If the others haven’t noticed him laughing just yet, they certainly are now. Kozume is already glaring from across the field while tugging on Hinata’s jacket as if trying to make sure he doesn’t catch wind of whatever is going on at their end. He quirks a brow up at Akaashi, a silent question that he knows all too well that could be interpreted either as ‘what is he doing this time’ or ‘do I really want to know’. Akaashi can only shake his head. He does not have an answer to either.
“L-Lev, holy—” Kuroo is wheezing. He may be losing oxygen to his brain. Yaku may have a reason to rejoice. “—ohmygod, you can’t be fucking serious.”
“I’M BEING SERIOUS, KUROO-SAN?!”
Ah, Hinata finally decides to look over.
He’s saying something to Kozume. Akaashi can’t quite make it out. But before Karasuno’s little middle blocker decides to do anything about it, Kuroo’s breaking out into laughter again.
“Lev! You do— You do realise, right,” he’s trying to gesture to the offending evidence that has rocked Haiba’s entire world as he’s known it, in all it’s Potari Sweat Blue with a sticker of Russia’s flag and some strange looking… creature that looks vaguely like a yellow mouse that resembles one of those little animal-esque monsters Kozume has a game of. (Tekachu? Is that what it’s called?) There’s something poetic about something that’s meant to refresh its drinker, well-trusted by most athletes across all of Japan, also advertised in various health ads to help avoid heat stroke, has somehow brought so much anguish to a faithful consumer just from the fact that Haiba is ready to pass out at any moment. How awful. “That you have to put your mouth around the nozzle. ”
It’s true. Most of them here have water bottles designed with nozzles instead of a wide opening to drink from, and the only way to actually drink the contents is to take the whole nozzle or squeeze the contents directly into your mouth. Based on context clues, Akaashi can figure out that Hinata and Haiba probably drank from the same bottle through the former method.
But Haiba — oh bless this guy, really, he tries — does not pick up on it.
“... So?! What does that have to do with anything?!”
“Lev. Okay, Lev, listen to me, okay.”
Haiba goes quiet. Akaashi is dreading what explanation Kuroo has this time.
Kuroo takes his own water bottle, takes a long sip from the nozzle as he stares at Haiba. Slowly. Loudly.
The slurping is grating and awkward and why the hell does Kuroo have to stare at him like that like it’s some sort of contest? then lets go with a wet pop.
It has Akaashi cringing because he knows exactly what Kuroo is implying. Every hormonal teenage boy knows what it is from the crass, almost blatant wanton disrespect, way Kuroo sucks on his bottle that if he even thinks about the excruciatingly graphic attention to detail Kuroo has given to the motion, Akaashi is pretty sure that Kuroo is either a very hormonal teenager or just a plain bastard.
It is so very tempting to take one of the water balloons still untouched from his side and just… throw it, point blank.
From the corner of his eye, Kozume is filling his toy gun with something that is most definitely not water.
Well, it must be some sort of liquid at least. No one is allowed a real gun here. What kind of place would they be without proper gun regulations? Akaashi would rather not think about that kind of possibility, thank you very much.
But with how he’s loading the thing, it might be a live round. He’s opening the barrel with quick gestures and almost practiced ease that it’s like he’s done this countless times before. Kozume’s eyes are still trained on Kuroo, and it doesn’t take a genius to know Kuroo will be getting his just desserts.
Akaashi will simply pretend he does not see anything. Nope. Not a thing. But he still keeps his eyes open long enough to try and study Haiba’s reaction.
Even after that though, Haiba shows no signs of getting it.
So Kuroo puts his case to rest with a resounding argument: “You realise you practically swapped spits with each other doing that, almost like you were sticking your tongue down Hina—”
Akaashi barely blinks before everything just happens all at once. One second, Kuroo is standing in all of his 187 centimetres (not counting the six centimetres that his hair adds), hands in a grandiose manner as he tries to enlighten his precious kouhai the nature of indirect kisses. Then just a fraction of that second, something zips past him with an accuracy that’s meant to kill. In all fairness, it was a beautiful shot. Quick yet silent. It almost puts Kageyama's pinpoint accurate sets to shame.
By the time Akaashi finally registers the scene that just unfolded, Kuroo is already on the ground, a suction dart stuck to his forehead as the offending Energon water bottle lays lifelessly next to his own corpse.
Haiba screams bloody murder. Not because of his precious senpai getting shot squarely in the head by a rubber suction bullet.
Hinata is just laughing next to an all too proud Kozume.
Akaashi makes a mental note to not piss off an experienced gamer, especially whose repertoire of completed games is as vast as Kozume’s, because you never know just how many first person shooter games he’s actually managed to place top of the board of.
Kuroo’s eyes are completely lifeless. He might actually be gone.
(He sends his condolences to Nekoma.)
Akaashi nudges his foot. Once. Twice. It’s been long enough without a response from Kuroo for Kozume and Hinata to actually approach and take a look too, and Haiba is far too obvious with avoiding any sort of contact with him.
Ah, well. He’ll learn eventually.
“Don’t listen to whatever he says, Lev,” Kozume tilts his head to the middle blocker, slinging the toy gun over his shoulder. “He doesn’t know what he’s actually saying. I should know, because he’s never even thought of kissing anyone, much less kissed anyone before—”
—That gets Kuroo rising from the grave and almost lunging at Kozume with an embarrassed yell. “KENMA, WHAT THE HELL?!”
Kozume dodges the jump with ease, already dragging Hinata away with his final words, a vengeful Kuroo on their heels. “—And if you really wanna get a proper answer, you could just Yahoo Answer it. See ya.”
The swift exit finally affords Akaashi some kind of peace and quiet for a moment. Just enough time to let out the long sigh he’s been trying to withhold for the past twenty minutes from that entire exchange. Haiba is still shell-shocked, but he’s sure he’ll make a swift recovery.
This really should be the opportunity for him to take his own leave. Get himself properly dried even if the only damage he received from this water fight is Konoha’s poorly aimed hose spray that was set on the mist setting rather than the shower one, and that in turn made him vulnerable to Washio’s dual itty-bitty water bursts from these comically tiny shotguns that are too small for someone as big as him.
But he’s stopped by the sight of Bokuto running up to him, somehow even more drenched than he was before. His hair has lost its significant volume and fluff and droops over his eyes, bouncing with every step he takes.
Akaashi has to also politely look away from staring at his chest has clung to his pectorals.
“Ah-gaashi,” Bokuto drawls all the while wearing that big, boyish grin of his. The one that’s all teeth and has his canines just pressing slightly down on his bottom lip from how they jut out. It makes something in Akaashi’s chest twist that he doesn’t even bother correcting the pronunciation. “You guys looked like you were having fun here! I saw that head shot Kuroo got. That was nasty.”
Akaashi hums, before he tilts his head to where Kuroo is assaulted by a barrage of water balloons and well-timed jets of water from both Hinata and Kozume. Somehow Tsukishima has gotten himself involved. He never seems to miss an opportunity to get involved with one-upping Kuroo.
“I think it was well-deserved after what happened to Haiba-kun.”
Speaking of Haiba, he’s now sitting with his long legs tucked underneath his chin, fiddling with his phone as if he’s trying to look for something. With how his brows pinch together, his own mouth pouting as if deep in thought, Haiba actually looks his age: fifteen and still learning about the world slowly yet surely, and that includes the world of his own affections and sexuality.
Bokuto lets out another one of his boisterous laughs. The kind that shakes his shoulders and has the whole room alight in this soft glow. The natural gravity of this star has Akaashi smiling too, before eventually, he’s hiding his own laugh into his palm.
“It looks like they’re having fun!” Chirps their captain, dragging a palm through his white-black hair to look at Akaashi better. All sharp edges of his boyish smile soften for a moment. It has the little creatures in Akaashi’s chest running and tumbling and swimming and yelling like headless chickens when he notices. “You wanna join them? I haven’t challenged Kozume or Hinata yet! I think once I take both of them down, I can get the free pudding the coach promised us!”
“Ah, I’ll pass. I was about to go and shower,” Akaashi jerks a finger in the direction of their building. “I want to get dried off properly before lunch.”
For a moment, he fears that his rejection to his invite would activate his depression mode: his head seems to deflate three times its natural volume, and there’s a wobble to Bokuto’s mouth that’s almost a tell-tale sign of some whining. But surprisingly, he doesn’t get into a mood. He lifts his shoulders as if nothing happened, wearing that grin that’s all teeth. “Mmkay, ‘Gaashi. Go get some rest! Oh, but,” he points to Akaashi’s water container. It’s nothing like the ones the school provides since Akaashi prefers having his own for his own peace of mind. Unlike Kuroo and Haiba, he doesn’t have a sticker to decorate the bottle, but it does have the neat kanji of his name written on label paper. “D’ya have any water left? Yukippe already left with my bottle to fill it up but hasn’t come back with it and I’m really thirsty!”
Now, in most cases, with most people, Akaashi would say no.
Bokuto is not categorised as most people. He’s Akaashi’s best friend.
(His best friend who he has been thinking a little too much about in excruciating detail, but that's normal, isn't it? Right? Right.)
So he finds himself making an exception for him, already offering his bottle, albeit with small hesitation given the conversation that he just overheard from the two Nekoma teammates from earlier.
That small gesture has Bokuto buzzing with some sort of newfound energy. He must have been really thirsty if just getting water has somehow made his mood better than it was before. He even stands there drinking longer than he had thought, leaving Akaashi to watch how his mouth fits around the straw, lips puckered as he takes sip after sip after sip. (There’s a small sheen to his lips. Is he wearing lip balm? Where did he get lip balm from? Perhaps from his sisters?)
Like this, too, he can’t avoid looking at his face and all the smaller details: the length of his eyelashes, the same white as his hair. It’s reminiscent of snow, contrasting against his gold irises. Across Bokuto’s tanned cheeks is the smallest hint of freckles, splattered across his skin like paint smattered with the flick of a brush. He can make out the constellation of Ursa Minor just underneath Bokuto’s left eye, Virgo by his temple, and even his own image of an owl down the length of his nose.
Akaashi doesn’t exactly know how long he stands there, just watching Bokuto drink. He doesn’t even truly digest when Bokuto finally finishes off the rest of his water, giving back his bottle to Akaashi with a smile that shines brighter than Vega. He could’ve sworn that the ace had said something about eating lunch together once he’s done getting his rightful throne of being the Summer Camp King. It doesn’t even look like he waited for his response, as he’s already sprinting ahead as he wont often do.
Well. The answer would always stay the same regardless. Akaashi always has lunch with Bokuto. Today is no different.
… Now, he really should get going. He’s already turning on his heel, swinging the bottle to and fro with his fingers. Akaashi barely makes a step further before Haiba is latching onto him like he’s his only hope and that wet glimmer of tears in his eyes only spells trouble.
“A-A-A—”
“Ah-kaa-shi, yes, you’re almost there,” Akaashi replies dryly.
That just makes Haiba burst into tears. Oh boy.
“AKAASHI-SAN DID YOU JUST GIVE AWAY YOUR FIRST KISS TOO?!”
His second sigh of the day has to be the longest one yet.
“Haiba-kun, I think it’s time you stop believing in Kuroo-san.” Akaashi just wants to have lunch. Is that so hard? “... Will asking on Yahoo Answer give you some closure?”
So that’s how Akaashi ends up with Haiba in one corner of the Third Gym, looking through Yahoo Answers as if it could hold all the secrets of the world. It proves nothing more than a fruitless endeavour given it does nothing to assuage any of Haiba’s worries about his opportunity for his perfect first kiss has slipped between his fingers.
Somehow, Haiba has also convinced Akaashi to post his own question on Yahoo Answers, probably worried about the sanctity of his first kiss now that it’s stuck in his head that sharing a bottle could mean something romantic. Thank Kuroo for putting that idea in Haiba’s mind. Anyway. He doesn’t really think much about it, he just finds himself putting out the first thing that comes to mind. It did end up being just another question to ask on behalf of Haiba, but somehow, the words… kind of got away from him.
Akaashi Keiji
asked in Family & Relationships > Singles & Dating • 5 minutes agois it gay to share a water bottle with your friend from a rival team?
for transparency’s sake: this question isn’t for me this is for someone who is currently going through his own crisis.
but more specifically for me: is it gay to know about indirect kisses and still share your water bottle with your best friend who you’ve been thinking about quite often especially how they smile and they look drenched after a water fight. surely it’s not just me, right?
right?
Well. It’s not like Bokuto would find that question right? He’s barely on his phone, much less on the internet. He’s like an old man trying to figure out half of the apps that are on there because all he’s ever wanted to do was sports and something with his hands and his phone is just something to save numbers and call people and send wall after wall of kaomojis to the Fukurodani VBC members. Akaashi is at least sure in this regard. He is so sure that Bokuto wouldn't be able to see this, and has nothing to worry about when he hits the button to post his question.
(This of course, will have dire consequences in the future.)
He spends the night thinking about the light pink sheen of lip balm, of how it makes a boyish smile shine just a little brighter than usual with the sun behind him. At night, just like it is in the waking world, Akaashi’s dreams are haunted by sun-kissed skin and a pathway of stars.
(If the dream becomes too vivid, taking the shape of Bokuto in all his glory, the world held between his fingers as he leans for a kiss – Akaashi tries not to think about how soft it is, as the world morphs into himself, as the star that is Bokuto pulls him into his orbit with just the touch of his mouth against his.)
(As if some god had decided to ruin his day by playing a prank on him, Akaashi wakes up the next day to a reply from Bokuto. On his very specific Yahoo! Answers question. About him. About the moment they shared a water bottle and how much he's been thinking of him.
His only saving grace is the fact Bokuto does not realise it's about him.
Bokuto Koutarou
2 minutes agoagaashi i think ur thinking too much bout this cuz why dont u just ask urself if u like kissing that person! aklso why didnt know bout the other person u shared a bottle with who else was there?!?!?!!?
Akaashi Keiji
1 minute agoDon’t Worry Bokuto-san. It’s Nothing. Nothing At All.
Akaashi gets to wallow in his pining for just a little longer it seems. This time, he stares a bit longer at Bokuto's lips, covered in a different lip balm. Or is it lip gloss? Well, it looks nice. And Akaashi thinks that maybe it would be oh so awful if it left a stain on his straw. Yes, wouldn't it be better for lips like that to touch something else? He is most definitely not thinking about kissing him. No sir.)