Work Text:
“Oh my God, Kuroo, he’s gorgeous. ”
“What, the professor? I dunno, Bo, he’s old, but if receding hairline is your thing--”
“ No, Kuroo, him. ” Bokuto Koutarou gestured wildly at… somewhere in the classroom, and Kuroo struggled to keep up with the wild movement. “Second row, third from the left. Black hair, dreamy green eyes.”
“Bo, we’ve been in this room for two minutes.”
“And I’m in love, Kuroo!” Kotarou argued, glaring at his dark haired best friend. Kuroo’s light, cat-like eyes glimmered in the artificial light, reflecting back mirth and a clear desire to make Kotarou’s life miserable.
“Have you ever talked to the guy?” Kuroo asked, side-stepping into the fourth row, much to his gray haired friend’s chagrin.
Kotarou felt caught in between a rock in a hard place, and Kuroo seemed to know it with the way he grinned gleefully up at him. “Well… not yet, ” the third year whined, “but I will! I’ve never seen him before but--”
“You’ll see his face every night in your dreams, yada yada, I get it.” Kuroo finished with a teasing eye roll. “Whatever, Bo. Shoot your shot if you want.” The black haired boy lolled his head to the side.
“Fine. I will. Watch this.” Kotarou exclaimed, putting both his hands on his hips to betray the way his heart physically deflated in his chest at the dare. What did Kuroo know about dating anyway? As far as he knew, his tall best friends had never been on a date in his life. Kotarou had… dated, albeit unsuccessfully, but that was neither here nor there.
He was going to talk to this piece of eye-candy in literature class if it killed him.
He started down the walk of shame from his row to the other boy’s seat, hoping nobody saw the way his neck flushed to his dark roots or how he rubbed his hands on his athletic shorts. Why had he dressed like a slob today in his worn out volleyball shirt and shorts? He would never be taken seriously like th--
“Akaashi, right?”
Kotarou found himself drawn to the conversation like a moth to a flame. A young woman, who couldn't have been older than him, brushed a dark strand of hair behind her ears and smiled down at Akaashi. Kotarou almost swooned at the way it rolled off her tongue. Akaashi was such a… beautiful name for a beautiful boy and--
And whoever this girl was, she was stealing Kotarou’s moment with him!
“Yeah.”
Akaashi spoke one word and Kotarou died right there on the spot.
“Ayo, Bo, you good? You took like… two steps then froze.” Kuroo hummed from only a few feet away. Kotarou whipped around, a red-hot blush creeping up his face.
“I-I’m fine!” He declared, and Kuroo smiled that shit-eating lazy smile again that told him that his feline-esque friend didn’t believe him in the slightest.
The truth was, in fact, that Bokuto Kotarou was not in any way, shape, or form ‘good.’ Akaashi had the structure of a god, the eyes of an emerald, and a voice like silky butter. There was no way in hell that Bokuto could talk to him now!
“--so I’ll see you then.” The dark haired girl spoke again, and Kotarou snapped his focus back to her conversation with Akaashi which had just ended. Kotarou felt the inane disappointment that he didn’t know what the two had talked about. What if she had confessed to him? What if they were going on a date?
Heart in his hands and his stomach in his throat, Kotarou turned and trudged back to Kuroo’s side.
“No dice, lover boy?” Kuroo laughed as Kotarou slid into his seat with a huff. The gray haired boy just shot him a look at read very clearly ‘shut up.’ “Alright, alright. So talking to him isn’t gonna happen.”
“He’s so… perfect!” Kotarou whined, flopping his head into the plastic table then mumbling an ow with his face smushed against the cool surface. “I could never talk to him.”
Kuroo grinned, but didn’t press the subject. “Then how will you date him, huh? Woo him with love letters?”
Kotarou shot up like he had been electrocuted.
“That’s genius Kuroo!” He squealed, but Kuroo spun around to look at him with wide gold eyes.
“Nonono, that was a joke Bo--”
But Kotarou was already tearing a piece of paper out of his notebook.
“So your solution to this problem is to follow him?” Kenma rolled his eyes, though his face was so buried in his phone that no one could really see it. With Kenma always hiding behind his hair, it wasn’t hard to quickly find out that you could hear the apparent annoyance in his voice with nearly everything Kuroo and Bokuto did.
“I don’t know where he lives! I can’t send him love letters if I can’t give them to him!”
“You could just--”
“Shhh, Kenma. Let him struggle.” Kuroo laughed, yelping when Kotarou elbowed him in the side. “Jeez Bo! Take it easy, yeah? Some of us don’t live in the gym.”
Kotarou opened his mouth to fire something back, but then golden eyes fixed on the beauty of literature class entering his dorm building. “Kuroo! Kenma!” He exclaimed, “He lives in our building! Our building! ”
“Mmhmm, great, Bo. Now you can play Romeo and Juliet all the time. ” Kenma drawled, looking up at Bokuto just to show him how stupid he really thought his plan was.
Kotarou barely heard him, almost sprinting into the building to watch Akaashi check his small metal mailbox. Number 472, Bokuto internalized. Akaashi was so close, and yet so far.
Akaashi left his mailbox with a click of metal, and Kotarou forced his mind to work again. Squaring his shoulders, he marched up to the box, and slid his piece of paper through the little slot.
“Now what?” Kuroo asked, stifling a yawn.
Kotarou grinned, pleased with himself and feeling an excitement humming in his veins. “We wait!”
Hey!
Your name is Akaashi, right? I’ve seen you in my classes! I’m not very good with words, but I wanted to ask you a question: what’s your favorite color? Put your response in 632!
-Your secret pal :)
“Kuroooooo!” Kotarou whined, hands coming up to dramatically grasp the biology textbook that he had draped over his titled-back face. “I hate waiting!”
“Not my problem!” Kuroo teased, finishing up his last bit of notes. “You knew you had a class today, so you need to suck it up and deal with it.”
“Class has been over for ten minutes, Kuroo. We’re literally the last ones in here. You’re the one who is taking all these extra notes, you nerd. ”
“Well excuse me.” Kuroo stuck his tongue out and pulled his black plastic rim glasses off his face.
“Yeah, excuse you Mr. four-point-o. Now can we please go? ”
“What if Akaashi is still in classes? He wouldn’t have responded anyway.”
Kotarou considered the thought for a moment, and found he had no reasonable response to the problem. With a shrug of indifference he packed up his textbook. “I’ll just keep checking it then.”
Kuroo’s mouth was open so wide in surprise and shock and he looked absolutely horrified with his best friend’s behavior, but snapped it shut with wide eyes and a wave of hands in surrender. It was strange, Kotarou thought, to see his rooster-haired friend rendered so speechless. A sense of pride washed over him. Begrudgingly, Kuroo grabbed his biology things and they sauntered off to the dorms.
“I wonder what his handwriting is like.” Kotarou hummed, hands in his pockets and backpack swinging off one shoulder.
“You’re whipped and you’ve never even talked to the guy.” Kuroo laughed, and Kotarou looked at him scandalized.
“You act like you’ve never been in love before, you heathen!” The gray haired boy gasped in a wounded tone, one hand clutching the area of his t-shirt right above his heart.
“Puh-lease. I’ve been in love before.”
“Uh huh. With who?”
It was such a strange thing to see Kuroo speechless, and yet a stranger thing to see Tetsurou Kuroo blush. A soft ‘uhhh’ escaped the dark haired boy’s lips and Kotarou almost laughed at how awkward his snarky friend was.
“Holy shit Kuroo! You’re in love!” He wheezed, doubling over in laughter. “Who?! WHO?!”
“Nuh uh.” Kuroo seemed to sober up at the questioning, “You may get some high off of telling us every detail of your personal life, but I do not.”
“But Kurooooo--” Kotarou barely noticed them pushing open the doors to the dorms and stepping into the pleasant air conditioning.
“Oh look is that Akaashi by your mailbox?” Kuroo chided, and Kotarou knew it was a trap.
“You’re trying to distract me!” He accused, pointing a long finger in Kuroo’s face. Kuroo just raised a sharp black brow.
“Huh? I’m not kidding. He was just there. Look.” He pointed over Kotarou’s shoulder and the gray haired boy couldn’t whip himself around fast enough to see Akaashi gracefully walking off down the hallway to the elevator.
Kotarou sprung into action like a cheetah who hadn’t eaten in two days, darting to his mailbox and fumbling with shaky hands to pull it open.
Hey.
Who are you? And how did you find my mailbox? You said you were a secret pal but I could easily ask the RA to tell me who is in your dorm. If you want to talk to me, you should just say something in person.
And for the record, it’s gold.
-Keiji Akaashi
“He’s awfully blunt isn’t he?” Kuroo murmured, his eyes scanning the slip of paper.
“That’s what you’re focusing on?” Kotarou frowned, lip jutting out in a pout. “He actually responded! ”
“Yeah, and he’s gonna get your cover blown in about five seconds.” Kuroo pointed out.
That seemed to snap Kotarou back to reality and then he was fumbling for a stray index card and a pen.
Akaashi!
It’s so cool that you responded!
Don’t ask the RA who I am!!!! That ruins like, the whole point of the secret! I just want to be your friend, ya know?
In other news, gold is a super cool color! My high school colors were black and gold! I was on the volleyball team. The ~ace~.
Do you like volleyball? Do you even like sports?
-Your secret pal
Ps. since you didn’t ask, my favorite color is green
Pps. please don’t get the RA.
Alright “pal,” fine. I won’t get the RA. Are you just going to keep asking me questions?
To answer, I do like volleyball. I was my high school’s setter, but I don’t play anymore. It’s cool that you were the ace. Ours was pretty good -- he was in the top 3.
Am I allowed to ask you questions?
-A.K.
Ps. green is a nice color
“Shit, Kuroo, how are you so unorganized?” Kotarou huffed, rifling through Kuroo’s open book bag that sat in his seat filling in the absent boy. Kuroo had run off to the bathroom before the literature lecture had started, leaving a helpless Bokuto without a pencil to have no choice but to steal one of his own.
“Hey.” Kotarou almost missed the calm, serene voice behind him. He jumped, knocking his knees on the desk and wincing.
Behind him was an angel in the flesh. Akaashi Keiji himself, green marble eyes, deep black hair, lightly tanned skin.
Kotarou was aware he was probably staring.
How could he not ?
“Hey.” Akaashi repeated, and Kotarou flushed, realizing he hadn’t responded.
“H-Hey!” He chirped, leaning on the desk to look as normal as possible. He placed his elbow on his open textbook, only for the thin pages to slip out from underneath him and send him careening into the desk.
Akaashi didn’t seem phased in the slightest.
“Is this seat taken?” He asked, pointing to the empty chair on Kotarou’s other side.
Kotarou’s eyebrows raised, not expecting the question (though he wasn’t sure exactly what he was expecting). “Oh, uh yeah. Go right ahead.”
“Thanks.” Akaashi hummed, placing his satchel bag on the desk and sliding into the chair. “Someone new just started this class and took my seat.”
Akaashi spoke to him so naturally. Kotarou, on the other hand, felt like his mouth was made of sandpaper and his tongue of hundred ton steel. “Dang, that sucks.” Was the best response he could come up with. He felt so stupid--
Then Akaashi laughed and he almost fell out of his chair. Lack of pencil entirely forgotten, he sat transfixed and watched Akaashi’s shoulders shake lightly as he chuckled. It was beautiful .
“Yeah. You could say that.” he mused, opening his bag and taking out a notebook to write in.
Inspiration struck Kotarou just as he saw Kuroo jog back into the room to avoid missing the lecture.
“Hey, do you have a pencil? I totally forgot mine.” He grinned, hoping he looked less idiotic than he felt.
“Yeah, sure.” Akaashi nodded, reaching into his bag and pulling out a shiny golden pencil. “Here. I normally take notes in pen anyway. Just make sure you give it back.”
“Thanks man. I’m Bokuto, by the way.”
“Akaashi.”
Kotarou accepted the pencil with a grin brighter than the sun. He felt his chest swell with pride and excitement as he caught Kuroo’s slack-jawed stare from across the room.
Suck it.
Akaashi-
You were a setter? That’s my favorite! You should totally toss for me one day! The setter on our team was okay, but no national champ. It would be cool to try some other sets! And your ace was in the top 3? That’s crazy! I was in the top 5, not to toot my own horn. ;).
You wanna ask me questions? Fine then! We can play 20 questions.
Let’s see… I asked your favorite color, you asked me who I was, I asked if you liked sports, you asked this one…
Question 5! What’s your favorite animal?
(And you can call me B.K! But no more hints!)
B.K.-
If I ever figure out who you are I’ll set to you. The conflict arises that I can’t toss to you through a letter. Nevertheless, the answer to your question is owls. My aunt works at a sanctuary.
Question 6: what’s your major?
(ps, if you know someone by the name of Bokuto, he took my pencil today in class and forgot to give it back)
Akaashi returned home from chemistry Friday afternoon feeling sluggish and tired. Hydrocarbons were the worst thing in the world, he decided, and wanted nothing more than to lie down in his bed and sleep for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, homework had other plans, and Akaashi was dreading the work without the one pencil he had lent Bokuto in literature the day before.
With a heaving sigh he went though the daily motion of opening his mailbox, and almost let out a laugh of surprise. Inside was another note made of an index card, this time with a familiar golden pencil taped on sloppily.
Akaashi!
Talked to Bokuto today and got your pen back! Hope you didn’t miss it too much! :p
Question 7: Favorite food?
Oh, and I’m a sports medicine major! Cool right?
-B.k. :)
“Akaashi!” Kotarou waved to the tanned boy as he walked into the literature lecture hall. The boy in question raised his eyebrows but waved back nonetheless, his lidded eyes crinkling in the smallest hint of a smile.
Exactly one month ago, Bokuto wrote Akaashi his first letter. Long ago they had passed 20 questions and had moved on to daily letters, stopping only for weekends and the small three day weekend in the middle when Akaashi went back home to visit his family. Kuroo would at first roll his eyes at the shenanigans as usual, but over time the Kotarou’s bed-headed friend became just as invested into the letters as Bokuto. What started as simple questions became lengthy conversations about ambitions. Kotarou learned that Akaashi wanted to be an editor and dreamed of owning cats once he got his won place, and had an unexplainable fear of heights that used to give him night terrors. He let him in likewise to the very corners of his mind, his love for his newborn nephew, his strive to be the best ace ever until a shoulder injury the summer before college. Kotarou knew Keiji like a book.
Two days later would mark the day Akaashi started to sit next to him regularly in literature class. Conversations were slow and stale at first, with Kuroo mostly nudging Kotarou’s arm to get him to talk. Kotarou refused at first, but only until Kuroo said he would sic Kenma on him if he didn’t do something. Kenma might be short, but he was as fierce as a feral cat. Then, one day, Kotarou summoned all his courage and turned to look at Akaashi, hiding Kuroo’s cackling at his awkwardness behind his own fluffed up hair.
“So, Akaashi, what’s your major?”
It was a question he’d already asked in the letters and hearing “Japanese Language Composition” was no surprise, but Kotarou faked a smile and pretended like it was the most interesting thing on earth.
If he was being honest, Akaashi himself was the most interesting person on earth.
And then, trapped in the midst of a lie and secret, Bokuto Kotarou was no longer B.K. and was falling more and more in love with Akaashi Keiji every day. And still, he pretended he had no idea who was in the letters, and feigned innocence and learned everything there was to learn about the most beautiful boy he had ever met.
“If you put as much effort into your work as you do greeting me every morning, you would have an A in literature class.” Akaashi raised a fluffy eyebrow, but his lips quirked into a little smirk.
“Eh, C’s get degrees, my man.” Bokuto laughed, “Besides, this is just a core class. I don’t really need it.”
“Oh?” Akaashi questioned, settling down with the grace of a swan, “What is your major? I don’t think I ever asked.”
Bokuto felt his heart rate pick up. If he said it, would Akaashi recognize it? Would he piece together the secret? Would he know that Kotarou was B.K. behind the pens and scraps of paper?
“Uh… sports medicine.” He choked out. Akaashi’s eyes widened, and then he nodded.
“That’s how you know B.K. then?” He asked, “Ya know, the one who asked for my pencil a few weeks ago.”
Kotarou inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. “Yup! He’s in my more important major classes. He tested out of this one or else he’d be in here too! Super smart dude!”
Stop. Talking.
Akaashi nodded again, staring pensively at his satchel bag, “I don’t know him-- well, we write letters. Childish, huh? It’s like we’re penpals. Anyway, he’s apparently in my classes, but I don’t actually know what he looks like.”
“That’s so cool dude!” The man in question cheered, but inside his stomach churned with unease. What would Akaashi say next? “It’s like…” his voice dropped as he thought of the letters he and Akaashi exchanged, “It’s like you two must know each other better than anyone.”
Akaashi stared at his bag a moment longer then nodded, looking at Kotarou with an emotion that he couldn’t decipher.
“Bokuto? Have you ever dated anyone?”
B.K--
This is what? Question thirty something? I’ve lost count.
Either way, I think I like someone, but maybe I like someone else. My mind is swimming.
How do you know if you like someone?
-A.K.
Akaashi!
If you like someone, you can’t imagine yourself anywhere other than with them. They’re the face you wake up hoping to see. They have a voice you can’t get enough of. They have a personality that keeps you coming back for more. They’re the most important person every minute of the day.
If you like them,
“B.K.” left his hand hovering over the paper. Something sick pooled in his stomach. Akaashi had feelings for someone else. Someone he couldn’t tell him about. The question from literature class flickered back in his mind. A hot burning sensation burned at his eyes but he blinked it away. His heart ached to know that Akaashi would soon slip through his fingers like grains of sand.
He couldn’t be selfish. He loved Akaashi, and that meant he had to let him be happy.
If you like them, go and get them.
-B.K. :)
B.K.--
Thank you. You may not know it, but your words helped.
You mean a lot to me.
Akaashi threw the letter into the wastebasket by his door, a soft curse escaping his lips. He couldn’t say it, or write it rather.
B.K. was… was… B.K. was the person he wanted to see everyday. That’s what he had said. He said when you liked someone they became your most important person.
Akaashi grabbed another sheet of paper and slapped it on his desk.
There was Bokuto in literature, and Akaashi thought he liked him and his goofy carefree demeanor and the way he bantered with his dark haired friend in class. Akaashi felt his heart beat quicker when Bokuto waved him over every morning, and almost always wanted to smile at his dopey grin.
And then there was B.K. B.K. who knew him better than any other person. B.K. who comforted him through a failed test and made him smile every day. B.K. who drew him little pictures and asked him what he ate and then scolded him if it wasn’t enough. He longed to see B.K. more than anything in his whole life.
Akaashi didn’t know what his heart wanted.
Your responses mean a lot.
-A.K.
Akaashi
Anytime, man! That’s what friends are for! I care about you.
-B.K.
“ That’s what you said?” Kuroo’s eyes were as wide as saucers, “Bo, you’re insane. You just let this man go and also basically told him you like him--”
“I did NOT tell him I liked him!” Kotarou argued, face falling into a pout.
“Oh yeah? So what does ‘ I care about you’ say then, huh?” Kuroo threw his hands up in the air exasperatedly.
“I don’t know !” Kotarou yelled and Kenma pulled a face from the fluffy chair he lounged in.
“Keep it down.” He mumbled, engrossed in his DS. “Besides, didn’t you tell him to get the person he likes? Why don’t you just do that?”
“I-- I just… I can’t.” Kotarou sighed, “I don’t know what he’ll say if he knows that I’m his friend as Bokuto and as B.K.”
“I don’t understand how this could go badly for you. You’re his friend either way.” Kuroo pointed out.
“Just ask him out on a date. It isn’t that hard.” Kenma paused his game, “If he says no, he says no, and you can still be his friend. What's there to lose?”
Akaashi--
Question 38: Will you go on a date with me?
The cafe across the street from campus at 5 on saturday?
-B.K.
Akaashi felt like his heart stopped beating. The little scrap of paper in his hands shook as he caught his breath.
Your most important person.
His mind flickered to Bokuto and he hesitated.
B.K.
I’ll see you there.
-A.K.
Kotarou’s breath caught in his throat when Akaashi entered the lecture hall Friday morning. Akaashi looked nothing short of stunning as always, but Kotarou felt the anticipation of the next day hanging in the air.
“Hey.” Akaashi smiled softly setting down into his seat. He seemed uncharacteristically quiet, and Bokuto wondered if it was because of him after all.
“Hey.” He answered back, “You good?”
Akaashi looked at him, emerald green eyes vibrant in the artificial light, “Yeah, just… date tomorrow. I haven’t dated in a while.”
Kotarou’s heart kicked into overdrive. “Oh really? That’s cool! Who with?”
Akaashi seemed to fidget in his seat, pulling at his fingers in the way Kotarou knew he did when he was anxious. “B.K. The guy in your classes? He asked me out.”
“Oh, cool!”
You already said that idiot.
“Well, I hope you have fun!” Kotarou settled on, only feeling in the clear when Akaashi smiled with a soft ‘thanks’ and turned to his books. His own heart thumped like a jackhammer against his chest.
One more day.
Kotarou hated waiting.
The cafe was reasonably nice. Soft yellow lighting and deep brown wood made it feel like he was stepping into some sort of cottage instead of a business. He scanned the room, seeing no one in particular he knew, and feeling a sinking feeling in his gut. This was stupid. He didn’t know what B.K. even looked like. How was he supposed to find him in here? Was it some kind of joke?
A tap on his shoulder had him turning around slowly to face the newcomer. A kindly woman with just the slightest hint of wrinkles on her face smiled down at him with pretty teeth and long blonde hair tied into a bun at the nape of her neck. “You must be Akaashi.” She smiled. “Your friend is waiting for you at the table by the window.”
Akaashi nodded, feeling a kind of anxiety creep up his spine. His right hand immediately found his left and tugged on his pinky absentmindedly as he slowly padded to the large window by the entrance.
His breath stopped short in his lungs.
There, at the table by the window, was Bokuto -- black roots, gray tips and all in his signature style, looking out the window in a way that made the sunlight cast golden yellow rays on his face as it set over the trees. He looked stunning, holding a small coffee cup and staring softly out into the street. Akaashi felt his heart swell as he pieced the scene together.
Bokuto was B.K.
“Bokuto?” He found the air to breathe. Bokuto’s gaze snapped to his, eyes wide and looking impossibly more golden in the lighting.
Akaashi loved the color gold.
“Hey.” Bokuto mumbled, looking sheepish. If Akaashi didn’t know better, he would say he could see a faint blush creeping up the boy’s neck and onto his face. He looked sinfully handsome, in his gray button down and black jeans, sitting before Akaashi with the most anxious and yet hopeful grin on his face.
“It was you? The whole time?” Akaashi asked, stepping closer but not daring to sit down. He feared he would collapse into the table if he tried.
“Yeah. From day one.”
“So then the pencil--”
“Genuinely forgot about that. Sorry.” Bokuto chuckled quietly, then paused before speaking again,“I’m sorry.”
Akaashi raised a brow. “Why?”
Bokuto’s mouth fell open. “Why?” He laughed incredulously, “ Why? Akaashi I lied to you. I pretended I wasn’t your friend and--”
“But you were.” Akaashi shook his head, “As Bokuto and as B.K. you were always there for me.”
“So… you aren’t mad?” Bokuto asked, ducking his head slightly. His golden eyes glimmered magically.
“That’s question 39.” Akaashi smiled, “And the answer is no.”
Bokuto smiled, a blindingly white and brilliant thing that sent Akaashi’s heart doing back flips.
Bokuto was truly his most important person.