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Bokuto is no stranger to love letters. He’s the star of Fukurodani’s boys volleyball team, after all, and in addition to being tall, athletic, and handsome, he is generally a kind and honest person, the sort people feel comfortable around despite his overwhelming stature. To say he has had his fair share of confessions throughout his two and a half years of high school is an understatement. He’d declined them all, graciously, of course. He had no time for relationships with tournaments coming up. He loves volleyball and he loves his team and he wouldn’t want to be with anyone who wasn’t as into volleyball as he is.
But this? This is new.
[unknown] (18:21): you spiked that match point straight into my heart <3
The random text comes to his phone after an intense match against Itachiyama that they narrowly won. The third set had gone into the 30s, the final point dragged on through a lengthy rally, but a clutch receive by Konoha allowed Akaashi to give Bokuto the perfect set for a beautiful cross shot that the Itachiyama blockers misread as a straight. His hand still tingles with the memory of the spike and his heart starts racing again.
He’s a little thrilled by the strange message. The language isn’t all that different from the dozens of confession letters he’s received over the years, but the directness stuns him. He isn’t really sure how he is supposed to respond in this sort of situation, if he should respond at all, but he musters up some bravado and decides to play along.
Me (18:24): oh no! i hope i didn’t hurt it too much!
He finishes getting changed and heads out to the bus. His phone vibrates before he gets there.
[unknown] (18:26): you could never hurt me
Bokuto scrunches his lips at that. He thinks this has to be a prank.
Me (18:27): ok who is this?
He boards the bus and settles into his usual seat towards the back. Konoha leans across the aisle to ask what’s wrong just as his phone goes off again.
[unknown] (18:28): a secret admirer ★⌒( ● ゝ ω ・) ｂ
“Dude, I got the weirdest text.”
He turns the screen so Konoha can read it. His teammate scowls at the exchange. “I dunno man, that’s kinda sus. You probably shouldn’t reply anymore.”
Bokuto pouts and tucks the phone into his jacket pocket. “What’s the harm? Clearly they’re a fan.”
“What if they’re a stalker?”
“What if who’s a stalker?” Akaashi asks, walking up the aisle to his usual seat next to Bokuto.
“No one!” Bokuto cries at the same time Konoha points accusingly at him and says “He’s texting some rando who texted him after the match.”
Akaashi frowns at Bokuto in that way he has that sometimes reminds Bokuto of when his father is being stern with him about his grades or one of his mood swings. He doesn’t even have to say anything; Bokuto pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it over. Akaashi reads the conversation with a neutral expression. “I agree it’s a little strange, but I don’t see any harm in it.” Konoha makes a strangled sound. He hands Bokuto his phone back as he slides across him into his seat. “But please keep us informed if there are any further communications.”
He doesn’t want to make Akaashi mad, so he promises to tell him if it happens again. He’s glad Akaashi agrees with him about it being harmless, though. He trusts Akaashi, so if he says it’s fine, there’s no reason to worry. After a couple days, he’s forgotten the whole thing anyway.
The next text comes a week later, before a match against Shinzen.
[unknown] (15:08): good luck today. i’ll be cheering you on! o(*^ ▽ ^*)o
Despite his promise, he doesn’t tell Akaashi right away. It’s just a good luck text. He doesn’t even respond to it. He has a match to prepare for. Still, he can’t help himself from scanning the crowd during warmups, wondering if he’ll be able to spot them. Wait. That’s dumb. Even if they are here, he doesn’t know what they look like. He wouldn’t recognize them even if he did see them. He turns his attention back to the court for his next warmup spike and his eyes lock with Akaashi’s.
It isn’t weird that the setter is focused on him. It’s his turn to spike, after all. But Bokuto gets a sinking feeling in his stomach all the same. Akaashi raises an eyebrow in question and Bokuto wonders if he knows. He flushes. Akaashi always knows, and if he doesn’t, he always finds out. He says nothing as he sets the ball in Bokuto’s favorite spot, though. For his part, Bokuto shifts gears and spikes it normally.
As he passes by on his way back to the lineup, Akaashi regards him with a contemplative look. “Wondering if your admirer is here?” Bokuto tries not to squirm under his scrutiny. He nods. Akaashi spins the ball in his hand as he considers him. After what feels like an eternity he says, “Well then I hope you will focus and give them a great game.”
Relief floods through him. He grins, wide and beaming. “Of course, Akaashi! I’m the ace, after all!”
And he does. He’s in top form throughout the entire match. And they win in straight sets. Victory fills him to the brim with confidence, and he makes the rash decision to text his admirer back.
Me (17:19): hope you enjoyed today’s match! :D
The response comes while he’s boarding the bus.
[unknown] (17:43): it was incredibly satisfying. you truly are a star ( ☆▽☆)
The message stirs something warm in the pit of his stomach. It must show on his face because Konoha asks him what he’s so giddy for. He hides his phone in his pocket like a kid caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “I’m just happy we won!”
Konoha narrows his eyes skeptically. “Someone texted you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His fingers tighten around the device in his pocket, though. He thinks Konoha is going to let it slide, but then Akaashi boards the bus and he’s tag-teamed into admitting he got another text from the admirer.
“Well, I guess they were here after all,” is all Akaashi says. Konoha’s eyes flicker between the text and Akaashi, like he can’t understand why the setter isn’t scolding Bokuto for breaking his promise about telling them when he was texted again. “They’re right, of course. You played very well today.” Bokuto forgets all about his admirer as he basks in Akaashi’s praise.
At least, he does until the texts start coming a few times a week. They’re all innocuous things, like well wishes for the day, reminders to stay hydrated, more good luck texts before matches. He tells Akaashi, because he promised, and the setter is so pleased with him, he starts looking forward to the texts just so he can tell Akaashi all about them.
This goes on for a few weeks. Then one day, after a late night of ill-advised online gaming with Kuroo and Kenma, he gets a text that changes things.
Admirer-kun (8:53): you look tired today. please make sure you are getting proper rest! ヾ( •́д•̀ ;) ﾉ
Komi catches it from over his shoulder and calls an emergency intervention at lunch.
“Bo, I think you really should block that number,” Sarukui advises. “It’s been what, two months now?”
Bokuto shrinks into his shoulders. “So? They’ve never been rude or anything.”
“It’s creepy,” Konoha insists. “They know where you go to school.”
“Duh, they follow our team at the very least.” Bokuto tries not to wince as he realizes he isn’t helping his point.
“What if it’s some weird old dude?” Komi shudders. “We’d just really hate to see anything happen to you.”
“Akaashi, please talk some sense into this idiot,” Konoha cries.
Bokuto looks up at Akaashi with watery eyes. He doesn’t want to hurt his admirer’s feelings by ceasing all contact, but Komi’s point is kind of freaking him out. For his part, Akaashi listens to their arguments and gauges Bokuto’s reactions. He pinches his chin thoughtfully as he considers the facts. “I don’t think they’re a stalker.” Konoha makes a frustrated sound and Akaashi placates him with a wave of his hand. “The most likely culprit is a student. It’s probably a younger classman who bribed Bokuto’s number from someone and is just too shy to confront him normally.”
Bokuto exhales his relief. Akaashi is really smart. If he says there’s nothing to worry about, then he won’t worry anymore. Saru and Komi accept this logic, though Konoha still isn’t convinced. It’s kind of endearing how much he cares. Bokuto goes back to class feeling lighter than he has all day.
Of course, the texts still come. He doesn’t respond to all of them. He really doesn’t have the time to be flirting with a stranger who may or may not be a student he knows. Still, the almost daily affirmations and reminders brighten his day.
Another week passes and the messages get bolder. They start complimenting his looks, which is a little weird because it’s not like his uniform is any different from anyone else’s. They mention how his disregard for wearing his uniform properly is kind of hot. Especially his habit of rolling up his sleeves. His admirer really admires his forearms, though everything is fair game. He has texts about his hair, his eyes, his back.
The text that breaks him, that really gets him blushing, is a veritable ode to his legs. Specifically, the spot where his kneepads just meet up with his shorts, and how sometimes when he leaps, they catch a glimpse of heaven in that small strip of exposed skin. It sends heat radiating through his entire body and he can’t take it anymore. They’ve been watching him practice? He doesn’t remember seeing anyone new lingering around the gym. He has to get to the bottom of this before he loses his mind.
Me (20:37): i’m actually speechless. seriously, who are you? i need to know
He’s lying in bed, homework forgotten in lieu of his looming romantic crisis. He cannot focus with his admirer’s words bouncing around his head. He isn’t even sure if a name will help, but he wants something, a name or a face, to put the words into context. He swallows thickly when his phone goes off with a new message.
Admirer-kun (20:39): meet me?
Bokuto’s heart thuds in his chest. His brain is screaming bad idea, bad idea, BAD IDEA, but he really, really wants to know. He wonders if he should consult with the team first, then immediately reconsiders. Komi and Saru and Washio would advise against it. Konoha would probably call the cops or something. Akaashi?
Akaashi had said there was nothing to worry about. He trusts Akaashi. He hasn’t told him about all the thirst messages he’s gotten, but he is at least aware of some of them. If anyone could convince him this is a bad idea, it’s Akaashi.
“Bokuto-san?” He answers the phone with a sigh. “Shouldn’t you be studying?”
“Sorry, I know you’re studying too, but I need your help.”
“What don’t you understand?”
“No, no. Not with homework or anything like that.” He rubs the back of his neck. He can almost see the younger boy’s eyebrow raise in question at the pause. “They want to meet. My admirer.”
“Oh.”
“I shouldn’t do it, right? That’s too dangerous?”
Akaashi hums thoughtfully on the other end of the line. “If I felt like you were in danger, I would have discouraged you from allowing it to continue months ago. If you feel like you want to meet this person, then that’s up to you.”
“What if you’re wrong, though?” He’s ashamed to even voice that concern. Akaashi has never steered him wrong.
“Would you like me to accompany you?”
Bokuto freezes as he considers that option. It hadn’t occurred to him that he could bring backup, just in case. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. I trust you,” he says, “but I’ll feel even better having you at my back.”
“Understood. Text me the details and we’ll go from there.”
He sighs with relief. “Thanks, Akaashi. You’re the best.”
His admirer wants to meet him behind the gym after practice. His nerves are on fire all day. He has so much restless energy the team even comments on it during practice, wondering if he’ll even be able to expend it all. He tries. He makes a lot of mistakes, and coach asks what is wrong with him. Akaashi apologizes on his behalf and assures coach it’s just an off day and he’ll be back to their normal ace tomorrow. Bokuto hopes he’s right.
After practice, they don’t stay for extra spiking drills. Bokuto is antsy the whole time they get changed. “Bokuto-san, please relax. Everything will work out just fine and you’ll wonder why you were so worked up about it in the first place.”
“Akaaaashi, how do you know these things?” he whines, earning a reproachful look from Konoha.
“You said you trust me, right?” Bokuto nods lamely. “Then it will be fine.”
They make their way towards the back entrance of the gym. Akaashi excuses himself to duck around the side. He says it’s so that he doesn’t scare off the admirer when they arrive and that he won’t go anywhere. He promises to intervene if anything seems off.
And then Bokuto is alone on the sidewalk behind the gym. He checks the time on his phone. His admirer should arrive any minute. His heart hammers in his ears. This is nothing like the confessions he is used to. He’s certain his heart is going to give out before the admirer even shows up. Then he remembers Akaashi is waiting just around the corner, and he relaxes.
The agreed upon meeting time arrives.
And then passes.
After two minutes he starts bouncing on the balls of his feet.
After five, he begins to pace.
When it’s ten minutes past the meeting time, he fishes his phone out of his jacket pocket and checks the text from last night. He had the right place and time. Maybe they got cold feet? He decides to text them.
Me (18:41): you meant today, right?
A few seconds later he hears a phone chime. He whips his head around. Akaashi didn’t warn him they were coming that way. He sprints around the corner to find Akaashi alone, leaning against the wall with his phone in his hand, grinning at him like the fox that got in the henhouse. His brain thoroughly shuts down and he can only make garbled noises for a solid 30 seconds. Akaashi tucks his phone in his pants pocket and watches him with amused eyes.
“Akaashi!” he cries, when he finally gets his vocal cords back under his control. “You’ve been messing with me this whole time?!”
He at least has the decency to appear slightly abashed. “Well, yes and no,” he says, absently tugging at his fingers in the way he does when he’s nervous. That touch of normalcy grounds Bokuto again. “I didn’t mean for it to go so far. I really thought you would figure it out.” He actually frowns at Bokuto with a touch of disappointment.
He scratches the back of his head in frustration. Why was Akaashi mad at him for not knowing something he couldn’t possibly have known? “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Akaashi shrugs. “I didn’t think you’d take me seriously if I went the traditional route.” He says it so casually, like he’s talking about the weather.
Wait, traditional route? “So, all that stuff you texted me? You meant it? All of it?”
“Of course.” He tilts his head to the side and, shit it’s really cute, and he smiles and Bokuto’s stomach does a weird little swoop as he watches Akaashi’s lips move. “I really like you, Bokuto-san.”
His eyes must be impossibly wide. Akaashi is giggling at his reaction and he’s once again wondering if this is still part of the joke. But he knows Akaashi, and Akaashi wouldn’t just take a joke this far. He plays back all of their conversations about the admirer, every text the admirer sent, and he puts together the pieces himself. Do you trust me?
Bokuto starts laughing too. To think the person he most admired felt the same way. “You’re kinda weird, you know that, Akaashi?”
“Takes one to know one,” Akaashi says, stepping away from the wall and closing the space between them.
Bokuto steps toward him to meet him in the middle. He quirks an eyebrow as he looks down at his setter. “I like weird.”
“I know.” Akaashi grabs the collar of Bokuto’s jacket and pulls him down, lips crashing and noses bumping together. It’s clumsy, but commanding, and it gets the message across, leaving Bokuto breathless. When Akaashi pulls back, his eyes shine like emeralds and his cheeks are a lovely shade of pink in the orange of the setting sun. “Please take care of me, Bokuto-san.” His lips quirk up and Bokuto wants to kiss him again.
He cups Akaashi’s cheeks in his hands, like they’ve always belonged there, and he grins. “You’ve been taking care of me all this time, I suppose it’s only fair.” He leans in again, gentler this time, and Akaashi meets him, as if they’ve done this all their lives. Fleetingly, he wonders how it’d taken them this long to get to this point, but with the taste of Akaashi’s lips on his, hungrily pressing against each other like they’re making up for lost time, he decides it doesn’t matter. He’s just glad he took the chance to respond to a random text from a stranger all those weeks ago.
-
“What do you think the team will say?” Bokuto muses as they walk home, fingers laced together, faces warm and hearts light.
“Oh they know,” Akaashi says. Bokuto opens his mouth to question it but he goes on. “Konoha cornered me the other day to make me convince you to stop texting your admirer, so I came clean about it.” He purses his lips in a pout. “He actually gave me an ultimatum to tell you the truth or he would tell everyone. I’m not entirely convinced he hasn’t already.”
Bokuto laughs. “You are such a shit.”
“You like it.” Akaashi squeezes his hand.
“Mmm.” He does. He likes Akaashi. Especially this new side of Akaashi that has always been there, lurking beneath the surface, recently come to light. He’s intrigued to see more. He grins. “So, you really like my legs, huh?”
Akaashi’s ears turn crimson, and he buries his face in his hands. He doesn’t take anything back, though, and later he shows Bokuto just how deep his admiration runs.