Work Text:
track one
i got to hide my feelings
cause what i really want to say is-
When does it start?
One night, Tsukishima comes to him after practice, during training camp, and asks if he and Bokuto are together. Akaashi frowns and tells him no.
“Oh,” Tsukishima says, and Akaashi’s good enough at reading people to see panic in his eyes, anxiety like static in the back of his throat. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry,” Akaashi says, and he means it. He’s not worried. Tsukishima looks at him, and Akaashi nudges him gently, smiling ever-so-faintly just to show that it’s cool, it’s fine. Tsukishima audibly sighs, visibly relaxes, and walks over to help Kuroo finish cleaning up.
Akaashi walks to the dining hall, walks to the showers. He makes small talk with Yukie in the dorms’ hallway, he lies down in bed, he closes his eyes.
In his dream, he tucks his chin over Bokuto’s shoulder, in the curve of his neck. In his dream, they kiss, and the way it makes dream-Akaashi feel makes real-Akaashi wake up, his eyes sticky with tears and heavy with sleep. He sits up slowly, wipes off drool from his cheek, and waits for the realization to hit him.
The rest of the night is barely sufficient time for him to digest it all. He stands up, walks to the window in the corner of the room, walks back to his mattress. A couple of times, he feels sick to his stomach, but he just sits down and drinks some water, waiting for it to go away.
The deal is, he hadn’t thought about it, not consciously. He’s not shocked to have dreamt of Bokuto like that, he just doesn’t like it. He realizes, a couple of hours deep into his insomniac nightmare of an evening, that he’s been in denial. That he hasn’t let himself think about how he admires Bokuto as more than a role model, thinks about him as more than a friend. Akaashi’s been so busy liking Bokuto and not allowing himself to feel it, that he didn’t have time to think about it. And God, does he take his time.
He gets in a two-hour nap before the sun rises and everyone heads off for breakfast. When he wakes up, it’s to Bokuto crouched down next to him, head tilted, eyebrows furrowed.
“Hnn… Morning, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi slurs. His head hurts, and it’s too early, he’s too sleep-deprived for his brain to already want to process all of this. He hasn’t got the energy to let his heart indulge itself in this moment.
“You slept in.”
“Hm? What?”
“You woke up late. But you look tired.”
Akaashi looks around the room, and notices they’re the only ones there. He sits up slowly, rubbing his forehead, trying to get his brain to work again.
“Are you okay, Akaashi?”
“Yeah,” he sighs. He’s confused, he’s stressed. He’s tired. “I’m fine. Must’ve overworked myself last night.”
“...Okay,” Bokuto says, standing up, and Akaashi can hear the disbelief in his voice. Akaashi’s chest hurts. His stomach hurts. There’s this pain, all over his body, and he doesn’t know if it’s soreness, if it’s exhaustion or if it’s Bokuto. “Don’t take too long.”
In a second, Akaashi’s alone again; in a second, he scratches the back of his neck and stands up, groggy.
This isn’t gonna work, he thinks, he tells himself. It’s been one day of feeling like this, and it’s already ruining my life.
He thinks of kissing Bokuto in-dream. He thinks of Bokuto crouched down next to him, and how easy it would’ve been to just push him off his balance and cuddle him back to sleep. He thinks of Bokuto’s big, big smiles, and the way he turns around after a good play just to see what Akaashi’s thought of it.
Well, he definitely can’t walk around feeling like this.
Akaashi pulls on a clean practice shirt, and it’s definitive. He’s gotta get over him.
track two
smitten’s a bad look on me
It takes Akaashi one month to realize that getting over someone is way harder than other people have made it out to be.
It takes Akaashi one month of, to put it simply, pining horribly, to realize that he’s in deeper shit than he thought. Takes him one month to realize that he cannot do this alone, because his self-control seems to take itself to the back burner when it comes to Bokuto.
It’s ridiculous; at one point, Akaashi’s heart races when he sees Bokuto walking down the hall in his direction. And Akaashi can’t stop thinking of him. Can’t stop thinking of the balance and strength in his back, in the middle of a game. Can’t stop thinking about what his hair looks like when it’s down, longer than you’d expect, softer than it should be, frosted tips and all. Can’t stop thinking about his pout when they study together, the way he kicks Akaashi’s shins lightly to try and get him to go outside and practice some more volleyball, because grammar’s boring . Akaashi starts losing focus during class, looking down at his notebook and recalling sweet, funny, lovely Bokuto.
It’s when Bokuto notices there’s something off, when Bokuto follows him after practice, that Akaashi knows he has to put an end to this soon, one way or the other.
“Akaashi?”
Akaashi turns, and his knuckles turn white, the grip on his bag so strong it might just rip the strap to pieces. “Bokuto-san.”
“I know we don’t have anything planned for today, that’s why you were already leaving, but I just- are you okay?”
“Huh?”
“I don’t know, Akaashi,” Bokuto shakes his head, and breathes deeply. He looks straight into Akaashi’s eyes, brimming with determination, and Akaashi’s lower intestines twist and turn with anxiety. “I can tell you’re not okay, alright! I can tell when something’s troubling you, I know you!”
Akaashi sighs. His chest hurts, a pressure on his sternum, like someone’s trying to break his heart with rib shards. “I’m fine, Bokuto-san. Just tired.”
“Akaashi...”
Akaashi smiles, and it hurts. He’s being torn to pieces, by himself. “It’s hard to keep up with you sometimes, that’s all. Somebody has to put a stop to Fukurodani’s ace, he’s too good.”
Bokuto smiles, tentative, then he grins, he laughs. “You know I mean it, though?”
“What?”
Bokuto shrugs, “I know something’s up. More than just being tired. And you can tell me, you know that, right?”
Akaashi feels like crying. He inhales deeply, because he can’t cry. He won’t allow himself. “Of course, Bokuto-san. Wouldn’t think twice about it.”
track three
because i dream of you in colors that don’t exist
and i think it’s high time for you to know
i like you, i like you, i like you
and i hope you like me too
Getting over Bokuto gets harder, because Bokuto won’t let Akaashi get away. Akaashi forgets, too busy thinking about his crush, that Bokuto’s his best friend. Akaashi stops hanging out with him because maybe that’ll help his affections die out, but he doesn’t think about how that affects Bokuto. Doesn’t think about how selfish it is of him, doesn’t think about how he’s Bokuto’s best friend back. All the advice in the uncountable self-help columns he looked up online, how to get over a crush, how to stop liking someone, what should i do if i like someone i shouldn’t , they’re not that much help when the person is your person. When the person is your closest friend in the world.
Bokuto rings his doorbell once, on a Wednesday afternoon. Akaashi opens the door and his breath gets stuck in the back of his throat; he wasn’t ready for this. Bokuto looks sad, looks actually miserable, and barges in without asking. He stops to take off his shoes, but doesn’t answer when Akaashi asks what’s going on. He walks inside, sits down on Akaashi’s couch, and looks up at him.
“Stop avoiding me. I miss you, and I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.”
“Bokuto-san…” Akaashi sits down beside him, feeling inappropriate in shorts and a T-shirt, feeling so many things. There’s anxiety somewhere in his lungs because he didn’t have the time to prepare for this situation, there’s an unsteadiness somewhere in his stomach because he’s shaking, he’s trembling, and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, there’s a pressure somewhere in his heart because he can’t stand to see Bokuto like this.
“I tried to give you time. I swear, I really did. I know I already asked you what’s up, and you said it was nothing, so I tried to give you more time, tried to leave you alone- But I can’t stand it, Akaashi!” Bokuto shakes his head, and his voice sounds strained, like he’s keeping himself from shouting, like he’s keeping himself from crying. “Goddamn, Akaashi, we talk every day! We used to! I knew everything that was going on with you, I looked forward to school every day just ‘cause we’d be able to hang out! You’d always- I always knew I could count on you, because you’d always be there! You’re my best friend, Akaashi!”
Bokuto pauses, and he takes the shakiest breath of his life. Akaashi’s hands are shaking, and so he keeps them tight in his lap. His throat hurts, his eyes hurt. He can’t even imagine speaking, right now. There’s no words he feels appropriate. He can’t stand this, he can’t do it. He feels empty, feels hollow. He swallows, hard, and squeezes his eyes shut.
“Akaashi,” Bokuto starts again, and his voice is so quiet, so soft. Akaashi hurts, he hurts. “I miss you. So much. I want my best friend back.” Akaashi opens his eyes, and he can’t breathe, can’t feel anything. He goes numb, his heart beating in his chest like hummingbird wings. Bokuto’s not all smiles and jokes, or crazy mood swings and hyperbolic slumps, he knows when to be serious, too. He’s just never been as serious as this. “Please, talk to me.”
Akaashi swallows, and digs deep into his gut to find words, any words, that can even try to make sense in this situation. His hands come up bloody, dripping, shaking with the cold that he feels down there. They search inside a black hole, and come back wounded.
“I like you, Bokuto-san.” He strangles out the words; he cannot stand it. He wasn’t ready. “I know I shouldn’t. I’m trying to… to stop. I just need more time, I guess.”
Bokuto’s eyes are a very specific shade of light brown, like cinnamon, maybe like oak wood. Akaashi’s had time to look at them before, had staring contests, had dreams. He doesn’t want to look at them right now, so he closes his eyes and braces for impact.
“Akaashi… Why didn’t you tell me sooner!”
He opens his eyes; Bokuto’s looking at him, soft, and he’s smiling.
“What?”
Bokuto reaches for his hand, and Akaashi can’t react, can barely move, so he lets him take it. Lets him unfurl it from a fist, so gently, like he’s made of fine, fine crystal.
“You could’ve saved yourself a lot of suffering, y’know! Could’ve saved me a lot of worry, too!”
Akaashi thinks fast. Akaashi can make decisions on the spot. He can analyze a situation and sort it out in fractions of seconds.
He takes five seconds to understand Bokuto’s smile, and accept the truth that it tells him. In five seconds, he goes from sad, to confused, to surprised, to ecstatic.
And God, he feels so stupid.
track four
you are my number one, baby
i like you lots
If you take out the time of a little over a month in which Akaashi hates himself, hates how he feels, hates how he can’t help it, then it doesn’t seem like there’s been much of a change in their relationship, it doesn’t seem like any sort of rupture of the continuum.
They don’t really change from being best friends.
They talk all day, every day, but they already did that. Bokuto adds an entire arrangement of heart emojis to Akaashi’s name on his phone - that’s new. Bokuto comes over to Akaashi’s nearly every day, be it on his way home, to study, to watch a movie, to hang out, but they already did that. They lock the door, sometimes, and kiss and kiss and kiss - that’s new. They work like gears in a single engine, they excel in practice, they communicate without speaking, but they already did that. Bokuto winks at Akaashi in the locker room, after practice, and Akaashi rolls his eyes but feels his pulse quicken - that’s new.
“What does it mean for us to be boyfriends?” Bokuto asks, after he’s spent the last hour pushing Akaashi’s notebook, inch by inch, further away, and instead taken its place with his head on Akaashi’s lap. Akaashi can’t get himself to fight it, anymore. He’s gone soft.
“What do you mean?”
Bokuto sighs, and sits up; Akaashi’s legs feel cold where his head used to be, and so he shifts, changes position, sits a little closer to Bokuto. “We’re just like we used to be! We’re like… Like… Like best friends, who make out.”
Akaashi chuckles, and reaches for his notebook. Bokuto whines, but stops as soon as he notices that Akaashi just went to close it, and put it away. Instead of a whine, he grins, big and satisfied. Akaashi kisses his smile away, shaking his head. “Maybe that’s what being boyfriends is. For us, at least. Being best friends who make out.”
Bokuto frowns, “Akaashi…”
One hour later, they’re watching a movie on Akaashi’s bed, laptop balanced in both of their laps, when Bokuto sits up, all of a sudden. Akaashi has to make a sudden and sharp maneuver to keep his laptop from smashing to the floor. He doesn’t get the time to ask Bokuto why he did that, because he turns around, a crazy, excited glint in his eye, and says, “Let’s go on a date.”
track five
i think i was blind before i met you
Bokuto can’t choose just one thing for them to do on their date, so he decides that it’s better if they take a whole day to do all the things. In the end, it’s not like Akaashi’s busy, it’s not like he cares. And, most of all, Bokuto argues that “a whole day of romance isn’t even close to getting even with all the time you spent getting sad over me!”, with an annoying, confident smile on his face, and Akaashi really can’t disagree.
They meet just at noon, and when Akaashi walks outside to see him, it’s like he’s seeing him with brand new eyes. Bokuto’s wearing this nice polo that he got for his birthday, and he looks so good, warm and fresh all at once. Akaashi feels something different in his chest, not a pressure or an ache, but like a warmth, like flowers blooming, like vines spreading the nice, cosy feeling all throughout his body.
Bokuto takes him for lunch, takes him to his favourite café, downtown. Holds his hand under the table, talks and laughs and smiles like Akaashi’s never seen. They walk through Tokyo, the streets endless but still familiar, take the subway and go to a park, go to an aquarium, go to a shopping mall. Bokuto convinces him to watch a horror movie in the cinema even though the afternoon sky is just turning golden, and the poster already makes it look cheap; they get to hold hands again, hidden by the darkness of the theater, and Akaashi kisses Bokuto’s temple when the jumpscares make him a bit too jumpy.
They go back to Bokuto’s for dinner, because his kitchen’s nicer, because he wanted to cook. They make food together, though, Akaashi checking on the rice while Bokuto fries the cutlets, and they laugh and make jokes like they don’t have to worry about anything. (They don’t. For the whole day, Akaashi can’t think of anyone, anything but Bokuto. This time, it’s nice.)
While they eat, Bokuto keeps putting his feet on top of Akaashi’s, doing it again and again even though he wriggles his toes to get out of it. They eat, and Bokuto keeps making faces, because there’s a mirror on the wall behind Akaashi and he can’t stop laughing. For a second, Akaashi wonders how he’s fallen in love with him, how this is what makes fondness twist like caramel in his insides, but ah; it’d be stupid not to. How could he not fall for him, after everything? How could he keep himself from falling?
bonus track: what it feels like to be in love
Maybe it’s about how Akaashi stays awake long enough to notice the change of rhythm, the change of force, in Bokuto’s breathing when he falls asleep. Maybe it’s about how Akaashi looks at him, sprawled all over the mattress on the floor, and it makes him feel sleepy, soft, warm, safe.
Maybe it’s how Bokuto always opens his eyes before Akaashi, after they kiss, and Akaashi gets that one second of looking straight into his eyes. Maybe it’s the fact that he gets used to it, it stops embarrassing him, he stops wanting to look away. Maybe it’s the one time they kiss and Akaashi opens his eyes before Bokuto pulls away, just to know what it feels like. Bokuto grins, like he was caught, like he doesn’t mind it. Bokuto comes in for another kiss.
Maybe it’s the way they work together better than ever when there’s truly no barrier left. Not the denial Akaashi never even knew he was in, not the repression of the feelings he didn’t want to have. Before the whole crush ordeal, Akaashi thought there were no further secrets, no further fun facts. He thought he knew all there was to know about Bokuto, that everything new that came along the way would be things happening in real time, Bokuto changing during the time that they knew each other. As his boyfriend, he quickly finds out that’s not the case, he quickly finds out that Bokuto’s a matryoshka doll he’s barely started to get into.
Maybe it’s being on the phone until they fall asleep when they can’t sleep over at each other’s houses, maybe it’s rewarding Bokuto with a kiss when he’s doing good with studying and ending up only getting him more distracted. Maybe it’s making tiny little braids throughout all of Bokuto’s hair, and not even having to undo them because his hair’s too short, too soft, and they just unscramble themselves naturally. Maybe it’s borrowing one of Bokuto’s hoodies and never really feeling like giving it back; maybe, actually, it’s the fact that Bokuto lets him keep it. It’s the fact that Bokuto doesn’t ever complain to see him in it.
One way or another, fact is - God, Akaashi’s in love.