Chapter Text
“You have to tell him. It wouldn’t be right not to.”
“I know, I know!” Bokuto hisses, peeking from his safe spot behind the shelf. “He’s not even going to arrive today, so it’s fine! I’ll tell him after, okay? After!”
“Again, do I have to remind you why setting firecrackers off inside the apartment is a very ba-“
“It’s not going to take very long!” Bokuto says reassuringly, waving his hand in the air as Konoha sputters next to him. Bokuto clicks the red button on his camera, grinning as the screen comes to life and the tape begins.
“Bokuto, you’re doing something very illegal-“
“I’m starting the countdown!” Bokuto darts forward and lights the rope, tripping over his shoes on his way back. He yelps, grabbing onto Konoha’s arms for support as the other tumbles down with Bokuto’s additional weight and nearly knocks the camera over. They freeze as the camera teeters dangerously on the tripod, tipping sideways left and right until coming to a stop, thankfully, upright. They exhale in unison.
“Good evening, professor.” Konoha clears his throat before drawling in a monotone voice, reading off the script on his phone. “This is Bokuto Koutarou and Konoha Akinori demonstrating our summer project for our second-year advanced physical chemistry course. We’re conducting an experiment calculating total heat transmission and loss into the system within an exothermic reaction by using firecrackers. The starting weight is 180 grams.”
“Alright, six seconds.” Bokuto grabs his notebook off the table. “Five.”
“You know, Bo, it’d-“
“Four,”
“-be pretty bad-“
“Three,”
“-if your roommate were-“
“Two-“
“-to move in right n-“
“What the hell is going on?”
“One- wait, what the fuck-?!”
The firecrackers explode right as the front door opens, the newcomer yelping in shock as twenty-five firecrackers light up in his face. Bokuto’s eyes widen and he nearly kicks Konoha in the stomach as he runs frantically to the kitchen, grabbing a pail of water as he screams over the explosions, “Konoha, stop the camera!”
Konoha, the psychopath he really is, doesn’t stop said camera and watches in gleeful amusement as Bokuto runs back and chucks the pail of water right at the stranger. He wears a malicious ‘I told you so’ expression on his face that Bokuto tries to ignore.
It takes a good few seconds before the crackers stop exploding and once the last one sets off, Bokuto and Konoha turn expectantly to the guest at the door of Bokuto’s dorm room.
Bokuto’s heart pounds loudly in his ears in the eery silence. Konoha looks like he’s stopped breathing.
The smoke clears and Akaashi Keiji, newly elected university student council president now covered head to toe with red flakes, water, and grey soot, sends his ugliest glare to the two cowering boys.
-
“You’re telling me you pissed off Prez even before your first day of class?”
“Well, he wasn’t really pissed off-“
“He was totally pissed off.” Konoha interrupts, waving his pen in the air. “The amount of swearing he did is indecent.”
“That’s amazing, really,” Kuroo grins maniacally as Bokuto whines in protest. “Good going, Bo.”
“I didn’t think he’d move in so early!” Bokuto protests. He recalls the shock and slanted gawk on his face when the air cleared to reveal (a very angry) Akaashi standing with a ruined sweater and bits of red paper stuck in his hair. The other boy had taken a deep breath, seemingly to calm himself, before saying in a dangerously steady and sweet tone, ‘Nice to meet you, Bokuto-san. I’m assuming you got the results you needed?’
Bokuto had never felt so many chills in his entire life. “It was a whole week before school started!”
Kuroo freezes and places a fist against his chest in mock anguish. “Oh, wait, so this happened a week ago and you blatantly decided not to tell me-“
"In my defence, Kuroo, he didn't officially move in until yesterday! He was staying somewhere else!" Bokuto protests. "He stayed with his friends for, like, the entire week! I'm so embarrassed. It must've been because of my experiment."
"I mean, I'd stay away too," Konoha quips.
"Hey, about that experiment- did you guys actually manage to get it done?" Kuroo frowns, pulling up his report card grades. "I got an A... is that normal?"
Konoha and Bokuto glare angrily at the wooden surface of the library table as they recall the fat 'B+' that currently sits comfortably in their grade book.
“I’m struggling with my chemistry homework.” Konoha interrupts again. “Kuroo-senpai, help me out.”
“We are in an ADVANCED CLASS-“
“Kuroo-chan-“
“Yes, what do you need help on?”
Bokuto snorts at their banter, pulling out his laptop from his bag and scrolling through his emails and messages. The familiar flooded inbox fills his screen (394 unread emails, Bokuto notices happily. That’s a new record!) and Bokuto hums to himself as he delightedly deletes email after email without reading a single one. The incomprehensible sound of their chemistry unit drones on in the background before Bokuto’s laptop pings with an incoming message.
He opens up Facebook and shrieks so loud that he catches the attention of twenty other students within the perimeter.
“Bokuto, what-“
“He sent me a friend request!” Bokuto shouts.
Konoha leans over to read his screen.
‘Akaashi Keiji sent you a friend request on Facebook.’
Konoha accepts the request.
Bokuto falls off his chair.
-
“First, I blow up his face and now he’s sending me a friend request?! The universe is toying with me, Konoha, I swear!”
The other person looks strangely unbothered. He bites down on a piece of popcorn, eyes glued to the movie playing on his laptop as he says, “He sent me one, too. You’re not that special.”
“And what did you do about it, huh?” Bokuto demands.
“Accepted it as any normal person would.”
“You know, I’m still not over you controlling my every digital action like some obsessive parent.”
A piece of popcorn comes flying his way. “You would’ve left the request to rot for months.”
“I would not-“
Konoha arches an eyebrow. “You’re overthinking this, Bo. It’s just a friend request. He’s probably not even going to text you. Besides, he’s your roommate. You might as well get to know each other.”
“I wanted to start off on the right foot.” Bokuto pouts, casting a glance at the many plants lined up against the windowsill in his room. “I’m scared of him. I was going to give him a Venus flytrap as a welcoming gift.”
An ugly snort escapes Konoha’s lips. Bokuto stares at him, flabbergasted. “Oh, excuse me, sorry about-“
“What’s so funny about a Venus flytrap?!”
“Nothing, nothing!” Konoha throws his hands up defensively, popcorn crumbs tumbling down his shirt and onto the floor. “I just didn’t expect you to give him a carnivorous plant, that’s all! It’s a little odd but I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”
“I have a Venus flytrap-“
“Usually, people give cute, harmless succulents-“
“I picked out a Venus flytrap so we can bond over something, you know? I’m actually pretty genius, being able to come up with that myself-“ Bokuto crosses his arms and leans back against the couch proudly.
“Hate to break it to you, Bo, but strangers usually don’t bond over Venus flytraps-“
“I’d appreciate a Venus flytrap.”
The two of them freeze, their eyes slowly crossing the living room to the front door wide in view from their position on the couch. The door’s open and the familiar black-haired student council president stands in the doorway, busy using his feet to push his shoes neatly against the wall. A smile rests easily on the curve of his mouth.
Bokuto’s heart is hammering in his chest because this is the first time he’s taken a proper look at his roommate since the smoke and soggy red paper and he suddenly forgets how to act like a normal human because Akaashi is really, really intimidating but he also really, really likes the colour of Akaashi’s eyes-
“It’s in his room,” Konoha says. “On top of the yaoi manga.”
-
“I’m sorry about that,” Bokuto says, closing the front door behind him. He’d just walked Konoha out, the two of them going a pretty far distance as Bokuto demanded an explanation for Konoha’s nasty comment back in the living room (“He knows I’m kidding!” Konoha had laughed in defence). Bokuto had taken the long walk of shame back to the dorm room, wincing at how he could’ve possibly messed up every encounter he had with Akaashi despite only knowing the other guy for a little over a week. Bokuto toes off his shoes begrudgingly before looking up and noticing that most of the lights are off. He comes to an abrupt stop in the doorway.
Akaashi is sitting on the couch, watching the TV wordlessly as he munches on the leftover popcorn from the bowl.
“Hm? About what?” Akaashi doesn’t look up, reaching into the bowl for another handful.
“W-what Konoha- ah, my friend who I did the experiment with and who was on my couch, that is- said earlier. The, uh, the yaoi manga. I don’t… I don’t actually read those. I don’t have them, either.” Bokuto stutters out with great difficulty.
He mentally slaps himself on the face. What was that?! That could probably be the most embarrassing moment of his entire life. He’s never awkward around other people so why’s he awkward now, especially around his underclassman?! He stuttered. He freaking STUTTERED-
He’s also your student council president, a small voice in the back of Bokuto’s head reminds him, that you find very attractive. Bokuto responds by reaching up and slapping his ear.
That catches Akaashi’s attention. “Was there a mosquito, Bokuto-san?”
“Ah, no-“
“And in regards to your apology…” Akaashi looks up this time, shooting Bokuto an easy grin. Bokuto’s heart pounds like it’s doing rapid construction. “Thank you for the welcome plant. I took it to my room already but I just wanted to mention that I’ve been told I have quite the green thumb. I’ll be sure to keep my plant good and healthy so we can have lots to talk about.”
He's clearly making a jab at Bokuto’s comment from earlier. Bokuto chooses not to mention that (or the many late nights he’d spent awake reading through Venus flytrap proper-care manuals). “Oh, it’s no biggie.”
“Would you like some?” Akaashi shakes the popcorn bowl gently. “Sorry that I ate some… most of it. I had so much work to do and I just got back to the dorm without realising that I completely skipped a meal. I’m really hungry.”
Bokuto’s heart happily knocks itself against his chest and he has to force his fingers to stay still and his breath to stay even. He’s secretly excited, grinning as he sits down next to Akaashi. “No problem! What are we watching?”
“‘Kitchen Nightmares’. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I love Gordon Ramsay,” Bokuto says in response.
Bokuto tries to resist it, he honestly does, but he eventually finds himself blabbering noisy commentary at every scene in the show, raising his voice in indignation at disturbing scenes and laughing loudly when Ramsay pummels chefs with insults. He’s always been a big overreactor in any situation anyway and he can’t help himself, he’s just so excited and Akaashi’s encouraging him by responding, even though Konoha always reminds him to read the atmosphere in case people start to find him overbearing. A part of him reminds him constantly that Akaashi might find his yakking annoying but every time he glances over at the underclassman, he’s wearing nothing but an amused grin.
So Bokuto keeps up with the commentary, anyway.
Akaashi smiles.
They clean up at around 11:30, Bokuto washing the bowl and cups in the sink while Akaashi wipes the table and vacuums the floor. He comes up to Bokuto after he’s done, resting the vacuum cleaner against the wall.
“Bokuto-san?”
“Yeah?”
“About earlier. It’s okay to read yaoi. I don’t judge-“
“I DON’T READ YAOI!”
-
Bokuto finds Konoha in his living room on Saturday morning.
To his dismay, the blond is sitting right next to their student council president at the coffee table as they laugh at something playing on Konoha’s laptop.
(Bokuto can tell it’s Konoha’s laptop because of the scratching from the speakers sounding eerily similar to the voice of a chain smoker, courtesy of when he and Kuroo spilt cream soda over the keys during their third year of high school. Konoha never got it fixed.)
That’s not even the worst part.
The worst part, undeniably, is that the video blasting at full volume sounds strangely, chillingly, and uncomfortably familiar.
“-calculating total heat transmission and loss into the system within an exothermic reaction using firecrackers. The starting weight is 180 grams.” The computer chokes out.
Bokuto’s eyes widen.
He cautiously walks up behind them where, sure enough, his and Konoha’s first take for their summer experiment is playing on full screen on Konoha’s laptop. He sees himself dash forward to light the firecrackers, wearing a manic grin as he runs back.
“Alright, six seconds!” Bokuto’s voice hollers from the video. The speakers squawk in protest. Bokuto cringes.
“Konoha-“ he starts, ready to ask how in the world the sight of Konoha and Akaashi sitting together in his dorm room could possibly be considered normal, but Konoha turns around, a finger to his lips (“Shush!” Konoha hisses, eyes wild with glee).
“Please pause that!” Bokuto ignores him, wiggling in-between Konoha and Akaashi as he sets his cup of water on the coffee table and reaches out to stop the video.
Akaashi, the world’s biggest traitor, pushes the computer further away. Bokuto gawks at him in indignation, hurt that he’d sacrificed their delightful evening of Gordon Ramsay for Bokuto and Konoha’s embarrassing evidence of a science experiment. Akaashi smiles innocently. “Let me watch this one more time, Bokuto-san.”
“One- ‘one more time’?! So you’ve seen this before-?!”
“-it’d be pretty bad if your roommate were to move in right now-“ Konoha’s voice crackles from the speakers.
“No!” Bokuto yells as video-Akaashi opens the door.
The scene unfurls in slow motion. Akaashi’s brows are furrowed in confusion, one of his hands resting on the doorknob, the other on the handle of his suitcase, before firecrackers explode in front of him, spewing ash and red paper into the air. There’s one split-second that displays a very horrified, very alarmed expression on Akaashi’s face before he’s engulfed with grey and red firecracker vomit, Konoha’s laptop screaming with cracks and buzzes as video-Bokuto darts to the kitchen for a pail of water (an anguished “Konoha, stop the camera!” can be heard in the background amidst the chorus of a certain someone’s annoying wheezing). The three of them, two in great amusement and one in traumatised horror, watch as a figure stumbles to the door and chucks a bucket-full of water at the unsuspecting underclassman. A yelp is heard before the splash as video-Konoha cackles in the background.
The smoke clears and video-Akaashi looks livid.
“I’m- I’m sorry!” Video-Bokuto squawks, arms extended to keep a safe distance between himself and Akaashi before the video comes to a stop. Modern-day Konoha howls in laughter, leaning back and clutching his stomach as he wheezes. Modern-day Akaashi is sporting a similarly wide grin, covering his mouth with his fist as he covers the laugh with a few coughs. Bokuto stares at both of them.
“Traitor!” Bokuto shouts, pointing at Konoha before turning back and meeting Akaashi’s amused stare. “Konoha, I told you to stop the camera!”
“Why would I stop the camera?!” Konoha protests. “It was our experiment-“
“Because Akaashi would’ve been embarrassed-“
“I wouldn’t have been embarrassed,” Akaashi pipes in.
“That’s not even the biggest of my concerns! Why are you here, hanging out with Akaa-“
“Akaashi can hang out with whoever he wants!” Konoha swats Bokuto’s outstretched hand away. “He and I are best friends!”
“You nearly blew his face-“
“Wrong. You nearly blew-“
Akaashi clicks replay on the computer and Konoha’s monotonous voice drifts again from the whining speakers. Bokuto and Konoha stare at each other for a long two seconds in silence before Konoha’s laughing again.
“I’m sending this to Washio!” Konoha screeches. “This is amazing!”
“Can I send it to Komi?” Akaashi asks.
“No, no, you can’t send it to anyone!” Bokuto cries.
“Too late! I sent it to Kuroo-“
“BO!” The front door slams open as Kuroo darts in, holding out his phone where the exact same video of Bokuto and Konoha’s failed chemistry experiment blasts on full volume (extracted from the depths of Bokuto’s rapid thoughts: What is this coincidence?! Am I some sort of protagonist in a movie?!). Bokuto could only squawk in terror as Konoha dies beside him, Akaashi extending his hand in a small, innocent wave. “You didn’t tell me your experiment went so bad!”
“How many people did you send this to?!” Bokuto demands.
Konoha’s crying, he’s seriously crying. “I don’t think you want to know-“
A cup of water comes hurtling his way.
Konoha and Kuroo leave after twenty minutes of howling and screaming, accompanied by Bokuto’s protests of distress as Akaashi pats his back reassuringly. The dorm is eerily quiet after the departure of the two backstabbing bastards and Bokuto is mopping the floor begrudgingly as Akaashi washes the cup in the kitchen. They share a comforting silence as Bokuto calms his nerves (Akaashi looks perfectly impassive but Bokuto hears little snorts disguised as coughs the whole time he washes the cup, which reminds him- it doesn’t take two minutes to wash a cup, does it?!)
“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi starts.
“Yeah?”
“If it makes you feel any better, I found the video very endearing.”
Bokuto nearly trips over the mop.
“Well, I wouldn’t describe that video as very endearing, Akaashi-“ Bokuto starts, ignoring the hot red flush that’s crawling up the back of his neck. Sirens are blaring in his head as all functioning brain cells run in circles, shouting and slamming into each other under the influence of Akaashi’s careless compliment.
In other words, Bokuto cannot focus.
Akaashi, Prez, you should NOT be starting conversations like that with random people, even if said random person is your roommate, because it leaves them in a very flustered and uncomfortable situation, despite how pretty you may be-
“It’s funny how your first instinct was to chuck water at me,” Akaashi continues. “It’s a good defence mechanism.”
“Uh, thanks!”
“But I have a question.”
Ah, here it is.
Bokuto braces himself for the impact of any insult readily thrown his way. After years of torment from befriending Kuroo and Konoha, he’s ready for anything. Would it be about his boisterous personality? Would it be about his unending yak of protests? Would it be about-
He doesn’t hear Akaashi approach him and yelps when Akaashi taps him on the shoulder.
Akaashi’s holding out his phone. Some wild part of Bokuto’s imagination thinks Akaashi’s about to ask for his number, which he is very ready to give, before the familiar scene of a drenched Akaashi standing in the doorway registers in his brain. Bokuto stares at the screen.
More specifically, the black object on the floor on the screenshot.
“Why did you use the rice cooker pot, Bokuto-san?”
-
He quickly learns that Akaashi is a busy person.
A very, very busy person.
He sees Akaashi a total of fourteen hours during the weekdays. He always stumbles into the doorway sometime past ten, heavy shadows under his eyes as he slowly and tiredly toes off his shoes by the door. Bokuto used to greet him by the door with a cheerful “Welcome home!” but he doesn’t do that anymore, not after Akaashi winces every time as if the words were like a fist to his face. Bokuto knows he doesn’t mean to flinch because there’s always the flash of guilt across his features before he straightens up and heads to his room to change, but Bokuto doesn’t miss the way Akaashi’s bag is dropped sloppily on the ground and the way his shoes are never straightened (Bokuto starts straightening them after a few days of the untidy pile, something that Akaashi is secretly grateful for, shown in his soft knocks before class in the morning). He sleeps quietly, not a single sound slipping from under the crack of his door as opposed to Bokuto’s noisy snoring that Konoha calls ‘gorilla-like’. However, Akaashi’s not that subtle in keeping other sounds secret, and after a week of Akaashi’s stomach grumbling during odd times when he sits down to finish whatever homework he has left for the day and Akaashi (very reluctantly) admitting that he hasn’t had time to eat, Bokuto starts leaving meals for him and heating them up when he hears the door click open.
“Why are you always so busy?” Bokuto asks one evening as Akaashi wolfs down his plate in front of him.
Akaashi politely swallows and clears his throat. “I’ve been doing a lot of part-times during the week.”
“Part times already? It’s only September!”
“I have to be prepared. Besides, student council work takes up a lot of my time, too. Which reminds me…”
He digs a hand into his pocket and pushes a flyer across the table. Bokuto picks it up with interest.
It’s a sketch messily done, rough lines marking out what appears to be a school fair. There are little stalls drawn around the perimeter of the paper and stick figures beside the messy rectangles. Large red letters across the top spell out ‘School Winter Fair!’ in an overexcited font. Akaashi coughs awkwardly.
“That’s what I’m thinking as our yearly fundraiser,” Akaashi explains. “The problem is that I don’t know if people will like it. I’m not sure if I should propose the idea.”
“I don’t see a reason why people won’t.” Bokuto shrugs, ignoring the perplexed expression Akaashi wore shamelessly. “How are you going to organise the stalls?”
“I don’t know…” Akaashi frowns. “I was thinking of just letting people who want to have a booth sign up in their own groups, but my biggest worry is that no one will.”
“I mean, as long as you let them pick whatever they want to do, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be an issue.”
"I guess you're right... but I'm just scared that people will choose something stupid, you know?"
Bokuto laughs. "We're in college. I don't think anyone has the time or the effort to do something that abides by the rules."
A smirk kicks up a corner of Akaashi's mouth. "I suppose you're right again."
"More importantly, do you have a theme?"
"Yeah. How does 'winter wonderland' sound?"
Bokuto grins. "I love it."
He hands the flyer back to Akaashi, who stuffs it into his bag with a sigh. “Dude, lighten up! Have you been stressing over this for the whole day?”
“The whole week, actually.” Akaashi stands up and heads to the kitchen. “But thank you. I’ll probably just stick with this idea.”
“If you want, I can ask some upperclassmen if they’d be interested in manning stalls for you since I’m, uh…” Bokuto breaks off the end of his sentence, scrunching his face up as he tries to phrase it nicely. The last thing he wants to do is offend Akaashi at any rate, and when Akaashi turns around and arches an eyebrow asking him to continue, he feels the phrase dry up uncomfortably in the back of his throat. “Uh…”
“Just say it.”
“Since I’m less shy.”
He expects Akaashi’s plate to come hurtling his way, maybe even for the Prez to go off on an angry rant, but instead, he receives a gentle laugh from the sink. He blinks twice before Akaashi comes back, shaking his head.
“That’d be great, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says sincerely.
-
In the end, Akaashi’s idea receives wide approval. The news comes to Bokuto in the form of a tired wave at ten in the evening, an outstretched hand holding a thick stack of papers as feet awkwardly toe off dusty sneakers.
Bokuto’s eyes widen at the beautiful, clean design on the pages. “Did you draw these yourself, Akaashi?”
Akaashi coughs awkwardly. It’s been a while since anyone has done anything close to complimenting his work and he’s almost forgotten how to act. “Yeah. Um, I’m a digital design major so… it’s expected of me.”
“It must’ve taken you a long time!”
“Not really. I just spend lunchtimes drawing. It got done pretty fas-“
He doesn’t finish speaking before Bokuto interrupts, grabbing the flyers and staring at the design with a wide gawk. It’s unbelievable how the drowsy and expressionless underclassman next to him could come up with something as fervent as the design on the flyer. The colours were bright and cheery, hues of blues and beige and white that mix well next to each other, a comfortable design to look at as Bokuto marvels at the tiny details imprinted onto each individual stall and student that Akaashi painstakingly drew out. “Akaashi, these are so nice! Whoa…. How did you do it?”
But Bokuto doesn’t even wait for his answer before he drops a flyer onto the table and snaps a picture, all the while throwing awed compliments over his shoulder. “Wow! I’m seriously impressed! I can’t believe…”
Akaashi snorts, dropping his bag beside the umbrellas and walking to his room, shutting the door softly behind him. He can still hear Bokuto’s boisterous exclamations as he gets changed, clicking his tongue softly at the energetic upperclassman marvelling over paper posters in the living room.
“Akaashi!” Bokuto calls out after Akaashi walks back into the living room. “I posted these on the sophomore Facebook page. I hope you don’t mind.”
Akaashi’s eyes widen, completely startled. “Well, you didn’t have to do that-“
“The notice will just get spread faster,” Bokuto says. “You should consider asking if you can post a digital scan of it on the school page! Besides, even if none of them shows interest in the stalls at the end, they’ll still be won over by your amazing drawing!”
A red blush creeps up Akaashi’s neck. “Bokuto-san, you don’t have to compliment me.”
“I’m not! I’m stating facts!” Bokuto turns back to the posters. “These are seriously cool. Can I keep one?”
Akaashi lets him, and the flyer sits, framed, on the shelf above Bokuto’s bed.
-
Bokuto spreads the flyers around, shoving it into the unsuspecting hands of his friends and classmates. When asked, he shoots them cheerful grins and asks (forces) his flustered victims to consider signing up for a booth during the winter fair. He’s met with skeptical glances and sarcastic responses, but from Akaashi’s relieved grins whenever he checks the sign-up document in the evenings Bokuto can tell that he’s not failing, not even close.
A week later, Akaashi runs up to him in the courtyard after school. Bokuto sees his flustered roommate, half-sprinting and half-keeping-a-normal pace, beckoning frantically with his hand at him from the entrance. He shouts Bokuto’s name several times, inevitably catching the attention of the rest of the students walking home as well.
Konoha raises an eyebrow. “Forgot a special date with Prez?”
“Shoo!” Bokuto barks, turning around completely to walk back to Akaashi. “I’ll catch you later!”
Komi snorts under his breath. “He’s whipped.”
Bokuto squawks defiantly as Konoha bursts into laughter. “I am not! I don’t even like him like that. He probably just has some really good news to tell me-”
“Yeah, right-“
“I’m serious!”
“Go get him, Kou,” Komi manages to add in-between Konoha’s annoying wheezing. He shoves Bokuto forward with the push of a hand. “Tell us how the date goes!”
“For the last time-“ Bokuto starts, but they’re already heading away together, nudging each other's shoulders as they gossip (very obviously) about Bokuto and the dark-haired underclassman at the entrance and their supposed “date” that Bokuto missed.
Akaashi runs up to him, red-faced and slightly out of breath but eyes shining nonetheless as he shoves his phone at Bokuto. Bokuto stumbles, catching his footing as he reads the display.
His eyes widen. “Akaashi!”
“I know, I know!” Akaashi all but squeals, now unable to contain his usual calm composure as he hops up and down. “It’s approved! We have enough stalls and volunteers! We’re having a winter fair!”
“We’re having a winter fair!” Bokuto repeats, equally as happy and excited. His heart feels like it’s about to combust with the sheer amount of joy he’s feeling at the moment, the pounding in his chest lighting up his face to stretch into a wide, wide grin. Finally, after two tiring weeks of Akaashi staying up late and organising his proposition for the winter fair, it’s approved and his roommate and finally take a break. Not even thinking twice, he leans forward, arms outstretched, pulling Akaashi into a-
Oh.
Oh, no.
Bokuto freezes.
Just as he realizes what he’s about to do, what form of otherworldly disaster he’s about to unleash on his roommate and new friend, Akaashi bounces forward, throwing his arms around his neck and dropping his chin onto Bokuto’s shoulder as he laughs along with him.
Bokuto short circuits. What the hell what the hell what the hell he’s hugging me he’s hugging me hE’S HUGGING ME-
He comes to his senses and unabashedly hugs Akaashi back, circling his arms around the other’s waist as they whoop and hop and cheer in the courtyard under the flabbergasted stares of their classmates, one thought rolling through everyone’s heads except their own at that moment: What a sight to witness.
And what a sight to witness it is, the quiet and reserved student council president yelling into the ears of the boisterous advanced physical chemistry student known for notoriously blowing up the chem lab in his first year.
“And someone here thought that no one would like his idea!” Bokuto says jokingly, earning a gentle punch to the chest.
“Thanks for encouraging me, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, dropping his arms from Bokuto’s neck. “I’m glad you didn’t tell me to drop the idea.”
“Looking forward to helping you with the stalls, Prez.” Bokuto gives him a mock salute. Akaashi rolls his eyes.
They curl up on the couch to watch another episode of ‘Kitchen Nightmares’. This time, Bokuto carelessly flings his commentary and suggestions without fearing Akaashi’s harsh judgment. Akaashi throws popcorn at him.
Just before going to bed, Bokuto receives a text from Konoha. He opens it and nearly drops his phone, gawking at the large image filling up his screen.
“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi peeks his face through the doorway into his room. “I heard your scream. Is everything okay…?”
His voice trails off when he sees the phone lying (very conveniently, Bokuto might add) face-up on his floor, the picture of Akaashi and Bokuto embracing in the courtyard shining bright and clear as day in the dim room. His eyes widen slightly as he clears his throat, a shy red tint growing on his cheeks.
Bokuto, on the other hand, is resembling something vastly similar to a stop sign.
“This is very embarrassing,” Bokuto laughs awkwardly, running a hand through the back of his hair. He is pointedly avoiding meeting Akaashi's questioning gaze. “Uh… I’m going to ask Konoha to delete that. It’s embarrassing.”
“Is it? I think it’s very cute.” Akaashi says nonchalantly, ignoring the furious coughs Bokuto emits in response. He stares at Bokuto in concern. “I’m going to get you some water.”
“Yeah, yeah, thanks, Akaashi.”
Akaashi places the cup on Bokuto’s nightstand as Bokuto furiously types away on his phone. He can almost hear Konoha’s jeering voice as the demon on the other side of the screen refuses to delete the picture.
Bokuto doesn’t feel Akaashi sit down beside him on the bed until the latter says, quietly, “Bokuto-san?”
“AGH!” Bokuto shouts, startled. He jumps, his phone falling out of his hand and onto his lap, where it bounces once before hitting the floor. The two of them stare at it in silence.
“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi breaks the silence first. He leans down and picks the phone up.
“Tha-“ Bokuto starts before watching in confusion as Akaashi opens up his keypad. His eyes widen. “Uh-“
He snaps his mouth shut when Akaashi types a number into the screen and adds it to Bokuto’s contacts. He then pulls up Bokuto’s text chain with Konoha and proceeds to forward the picture to the new number, now sporting a nice ‘Akaashi Keiji’ where the numbers used to be. Bokuto gawks.
“Now you can delete it.” Akaashi hands the phone back, smiling confidently as if he didn’t just so casually give Bokuto his phone number. “Yeah, that was what I was going to ask you to do. Thank you! Tell Konoha it’s a nice picture. Does he like taking pictures, by any chance?”
Bokuto swallows the millions of questions and blaring sirens screaming/wailing in his system. “Uh- yes, he does. He took photography in high school.”
“Makes sense. The picture is extremely well framed and well positioned. I don’t even have to do much editing.” Akaashi stands up and bows. “Thanks, Bokuto-san!”
He leaves Bokuto sitting, wide-eyed, in silence with a funny feeling in his stomach.
-
“He gave you his phone number?”
“Yeah! I’m still so shocked, dude, I didn’t even have to ask for it-“
“I honestly thought you guys would’ve done some sort of confession last night, but I guess this is okay, too.”
“C-confession?!”
“Yeah, since it’s so obvious you guys find each other attractive-“
“…confession?!”
"What? Don't you like him-?"
"CONFESSION?!"
“Damn it, Konoha, you broke Bokuto.”
“Don’t you think so, too, though?!”
“I don’t have a crush on Akaashi! He’s just really, really nice- hey! Don’t laugh!”
“Komi, how much do you want to bet that Bokuto’s going to ask Akaashi out before the winter fair?”
“Movie and dinner.”
“Deal.”
“Don’t make bets on me!”
-
The realization dawns on Bokuto during class while he’s completing a lab.
Konoha is next to him, blinking tiredly as he changes the positions of their polarizers. He unleashes a ghastly yawn while removing a mirror from the front of the device. “Hurry up, Bo. Tell me you dissolved the sucrose.”
“I did that.”
“15 millilitres, right?”
“Yes, Konoha, I can read-“
“When did you do it?”
“An hour ago! 1:57!”
“Perfect. Give it to me.”
Bokuto picks up the solution obediently, turning around to find the flask when suddenly he makes eye contact with another student in the building next to the chemistry labs.
Akaashi’s eyes widen when their gazes connect through the glass and a faint red blush skates across his cheeks. He blinks twice before raising a hand in a small wave.
From Akaashi’s perspective, Bokuto, in the chemistry room one level higher from his classroom, is staring wide-eyed in surprise down at him. From Bokuto’s perspective, however, Akaashi’s not even half as plain.
The gentle afternoon sunlight casts a yellow tint over Akaashi’s window, shrouding him in gold and blinding white. Akaashi’s sitting right next to the window, the angle from Bokuto’s floor completely hiding everyone else in the classroom. All Bokuto could see is Akaashi, only Akaashi, Akaashi with his face tilted upwards and fingers stretched in a wave. Akaashi, with his dark, dark hair and bright green eyes, blushing profusely at Bokuto’s prolonged eye contact. A smile pulls the sides of his lips into a small grin and he shifts in his seat to get a better look at Bokuto.
Bokuto, completely stunned out of his mind by the sheer beauty of the scene before him, gawks.
He can only process the distant screaming in the back of his head until it becomes reality in the familiar whines of Konoha Akinori.
“What are you doing, you big idiot?” Konoha’s voice sounds from behind him. “Bokuto, our experiment is timed!”
Bokuto’s still staring at the student council president, who’s now gesturing with his fingers and wide eyes to a furious Konoha behind Bokuto’s back.
“Bo-“
Konoha stops as well when he notices who caught Bokuto’s attention. His previous glare is replaced with a bright, bright smirk as he pats Bokuto on the back, taking the flask from his fingers and heading back to the station, all the while muttering, “Not a crush, huh?”
Someone beside Akaashi asks him a question and Akaashi’s gaze lingers for a second longer before turning to the student next to him. His smile lingers.
Bokuto stares.
That is, before exclaiming, “He literally looks perfect! Konoha, Konoha, take a picture!”
Konoha laughs and shakes his head. “No, you pervert. You hopeless romantic.”
-
Akaashi comes home that night with a flower in his hand. It’s wrapped in newspaper, Prez carrying it delicately as he gently sets it above the shoe closet. He catches Bokuto’s curious expression and shoots him a grin in response. He toes off his shoes and drops his bag on the ground before walking up to Bokuto at the dining table, extending his hand to Bokuto’s chest. Bokuto looks down.
One single delicate carnation with frilly yellow petals meets his eyes, looking so gentle and delicate in Akaashi’s fingers that Bokuto could only think that it belonged there and only there, pinched in Akaashi’s grasp, in the fingers of his smiling roommate.
“For you,” Akaashi says innocently. “The lady at the store who ordered a bouquet asked for too many carnations, so we all took one home. It’s yours.”
“No, no!” Bokuto waves his hands frantically. “I’m going to kill it!”
Akaashi looks up and peeks at the dining table. “Your flytrap looks very much alive.”
“I’m going to kill this though, I swear!”
“You just need to keep it in water, Bokuto. Change the water every few days and keep it away from the sun.”
Bokuto gawks as Akaashi closes Bokuto’s hand around the flower. He’s grinning ecstatically. “It suits you!”
Bokuto’s hand tingles where Akaashi touched him.
When Akaashi leaves to shower, Bokuto takes a tall glass cup from the cabinet, fills it halfway with water, and drops the flower in. He places it at the centre of their dining table, right between the small candles Akaashi brought with him as decoration and Bokuto's Venus flytrap. He takes a few steps back, admiring the single flower sitting on the table.
He grins.
It looks like it belongs.