Chapter Text
The story about the oversized jacket.
“I want to say it.” Konoha says after the brief pause that settled in the gym. He gave a glance to the perpetrators. There’s a certain degree of idiocy that he could take. He can acknowledge it from Bokuto. It was normal, a given, that their captain is a hopeless idiot.
He is not expecting it from their smart setter.
“It’s… it’s only been a semester since Akaashi joined us… give him some slack.” Komi is not sure himself. They all keep on glancing at the spectacle. The managers are having a heart attack right now because of the scene. He does not know which is more important.
“There’s a limit, Komi.” Washio feels a headache coming. It had been occurring every time they create this. How dare they make them feel so single? How dare they make googly eyes at one another and have the audacity to act like it is platonic?
Konoha clenches his fists when Akaashi makes the barest sound of a giggle. This is total blasphemy. He glares with all the spite he could muster and hopes that all his feelings could manifest and trip the two.
“Are you still cold, Akaashi?”
He hates how easy his captain could flirt without even knowing he is flirting.
“Not as much as before. You’re really warm, Bokuto-san.”
He hates how Akaashi, their innocent beautiful setter, could smoothly respond to such horrendously naïve flirting.
“This is killing me.”
“Hold yourself together, Konoha.” Washio placates, patting his teammate’s back with a defeated look. Konoha clenches his teeth before grabbing Washio’s collar.
“If we don’t do something now, we will regret it. Just look at them, Washio! LOOK!”
“Maa, please calm down.” Sarukui tries but is ignored by the two seething regulars.
.
.
It all started when Akaashi realizes that he forgot to bring his jacket. He was having an awful day so far—he had woken up late which means Bokuto will wake up late as well (he should not have agreed on calling him every morning to wake him up), he had to skip breakfast, almost trip on a stray bump, drifted to sleep in Japanese Literature (can you believe that?), and now, he had forgotten his jacket.
He frowns. The weather has been getting colder and colder. He could use his uniform jacket but that would be quite a hassle. Besides, they will be practicing so he will be warmer. But—
“I can feel myself freezing even now.” He says mostly to himself. For Bokuto to hear it, even if he was a meter away, is quite nosy of him. Akaashi watches as Bokuto leans his back on the locker next to his.
“So… I heard that you are freezing cold.”
“Yes. I just said that.”
Bokuto coughs in his hand before continuing, ignoring Akaashi’s concern about his health, “Well, wear your jacket then, Akaashi.”
“I would have if I have not forgotten it.” There has been a certain someone who has been whining to him for waking up late so he has to mollify that someone which made him forgot the jacket he has meticulously folded on his desk. But Akaashi did not say any of those. He does not want to let his captain descend into one of his downtrodden mood before practice even started.
“You can borrow mine!” The enthusiastic shove of said jacket surprises Akaashi. He reluctantly receives it, noting that it’s actually clean, “Wouldn’t you be cold, Bokuto-san?”
They proceeded to the gym. Akaashi’s earlier concern momentarily suspended.
“Hmmm? I wouldn’t. I have a higher temperature, you see.” Bokuto gesticulated, hands waving at the length of his body, flexing his arms for emphasis. “It’s the muscles.”
“Then… I will wear it. Thank you, Bokuto-san.” Bokuto ruffles his hair in response. He throws him a bemused stare, brushing his hair with his fingers to fix the mess his captain made. Staring at the jacket for a second in brief contemplation, he finally made a decision.
The jacket is a little too big for him. His fingers barely poke out. The disconcerting feeling of being drowned by mere textile makes him shifty. He articulates his concern.
“It looks good on you though.” Bokuto tilts his head, blinking owlishly at him. “Here, let me.”
Akaashi couldn’t even protest as Bokuto already shifted closer. Gingerly, Bokuto adjusted the sleeves until they were rolled to his wrists. Akaashi smiles at the gesture.
“I could have rolled it myself.”
“But I did anyway.” Bokuto pauses, hands finding Akaashi’s, “Whoa! Your hands are freezing!”
“I did say that I get cold really fast.” It tingles. Bokuto’s touches make his stomach do summersaults. He schooled his expression to a neutral, passing the light blush crossing his cheeks as the result of the winter wind slipping through the window.
“Yours are really warm in contrast, Bokuto-san.” Bokuto beams at him and intertwines their fingers. “Yeah! Because of—”
“The muscles?”
Bokuto nods. “Yes, because of these guns.”
.
.
“You can let go of my hands now.” Akaashi says after a minute. Bokuto only shakes his head, eyes slanting in concern, “I’ll hold it as much as I can so you won’t grow cold.”
.
.
“You’re right, Bokuto-san.” He concedes.
.
.
Washio grabs his collar as well in retaliation, snarling, “You think I don’t see it myself? That even when I close my eyes I could still imagine that! That I don’t feel the sheer emptiness in me when they walk in! I want to be like them too, Konoha!”
“Washio…”
“Konoha…”
“And Komi!”
They all sigh.
The world is truly unfair.
.
.
There will be a large amount of regrets in the future. Konoha would often come back to this very moment and wonder what would have happened if they just said something. Anything. Before it was all too late.
But for now, they are just blissfully ignorant fools with nothing to lose.
.
.
.
.
“GODDAMMIT, BOKUTO. LET GO OF AKAASHI’S HAND ALREADY AND SERVE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SERVE.”
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Next prompt: University days. Bokuto punches the wall and claims, “I’m so gay.”