Work Text:
All things considered, Bokuto Koutarou was having a good day.
He woke up next to the love of his life, snuggled in his arms, pouting so cute when he tried to convince you to come on his morning run that he ended up staying in bed with you until it was time to go to training. Training went awesome, as always. Kuroo and Akaashi stopped in for lunch, and the afternoon practice matches were won easily.
You were still at work when he called on his way home, but you said you’d be finishing up soon. It gives him enough time to clean the house a little and start on dinner.
He’s humming along with the music coming from his phone as he washes the carrots and begins to chop them when you step through the door.
After being with you for so long and living with you for almost a year now, Koutarou has gotten good at reading your behaviours and habits, particularly when you came home from work.
For example, if you sung a teasing little “honey, I’m home~!” as you flung open the door with a flourish, you’d had a good day.
If you smiled at him with a “hey baby,” you’d had a reasonable day.
If you said nothing, dropped your bag and immediately went to him for a hug, you’d had a bad day.
Today is a new one that he’s never seen before.
Slam!
Koutarou just narrowly misses slicing his finger instead of the carrots when he jumps at the loud slam of the door. You’re kicking off your shoes and flinging your coat haphazardly on its allotted pin, hair a wild mess and hiding your face. He puts down the knife and calls your name softly as you start into the house, but you don’t even look in his direction as you stomp through the house, and a moment later, he hears the shower start.
Figuring the best he can do right now is give you some space, he continues preparing dinner. You’d tell him when you came out. Hopefully. He wouldn’t let you go to sleep without telling him what was wrong. You’d work this out, together.
The yakisoba goes cold as Koutarou sits at the dining table, waiting for you to join him. You were done with your shower, but the bedroom door had been locked when he’d gone to check on you. So he’d knocked on the door, let you know that dinner was ready, and waited.
And waited.
His stomach growls angrily, but he won’t eat without you. Even if his hard work goes cold.
An hour later, he’s resting his chin in his hand, head dipping as he tries not to fall asleep in his still-full plate, when you finally emerge from the bedroom. His smile brightens when he sees you, as it always does, in your matching flannel pajamas, your still-damp hair tied up, you look so cute. But he falters when he sees your red-rimmed eyes, the way you hunch in on yourself. His heart breaks seeing you sad, and he’s out of his seat in an instant, wrapping you up in his arms.
Koutarou’s hugs are your home. He puts all his love into each hug, in the way his arms wrap around you tight and his chin rests on the top of your head. One hand strokes soothingly up and down your back, and you press your face into his chest, never wanting to let him go, wanting to drown your sorrows in him.
“Hey, hey, what’s with the waterworks, babe? Did something happen at work?” He asks gently, his free hand tilting your face up. You resist and he lets you as you shake your head minutely, hiding your face in his chest again. “No? Hm, something after work then?”
This time you nod, and he seems to make up his mind, scooping you up into his arms and moving to the couch, letting you curl up on his lap with your teary face in his neck, arms protective around you. “Wanna talk about it, or do you want some distractions to calm you down?”
It had taken him a few times to learn this, but you’d appreciated it with your whole heart. Whenever you were upset, sad, anxious or just generally not feeling up to scratch, he had figured out to ask you this question. If you couldn’t voice what was getting you down, you’d pick distraction, and he’d utilise his boisterous personality to take your mind off your problems and have you smiling in no time, and once you’d calmed, you’d be able to tell him what was bothering you.
This time, however, you want to talk about it – if you don’t, you feel like you’ll scream. You draw idle circles on his chest with your fingertip, your other hand curled to your chest, like you were trying to protect your heart. What little good that had done.
He doesn’t push you to answer, lets you take your time as you work yourself up to speak. One hand runs up and down your leg soothingly, the other wrapped around your shoulder, keeping you held to him. You feel safe in his arms, safe enough to speak, voice quiet. “Do you remember those girls I used to hang out with in school? Not Yukie and Kaori, the ones from elementary? We’d been best friends for years.”
He recalls them, vaguely. They hadn’t come by the Volleyball Club that often, and they’d only come out with your group maybe twice. They hadn’t come to the housewarming your friends had thrown when you and Koutarou had moved in together. He was sure you’d still been talking to them, you mentioned one of them last week, didn’t you? What was her name… Suki? Sayori? Something starting with S, for sure. In any case, he hums an affirmative.
“I asked them last week if they wanted to go out for dinner tonight. Catch up. They said they were all busy.” Your eyes well up with tears again, and you do your best to keep the whine out of your voice, not wanting to sound like a child. You keep your gaze locked on Koutarou’s chest as you keep drawing aimless shapes with your fingertip, willing it to calm you down. “So I said, no problem, let me know when you’re all free. And they said okay. And I stopped at the dessert place on the restaurant strip to get something for you on my way home.”
Koutarou’s heart drops – he knows exactly where this is going.
“And just before I walk in, I see them all. They were going to that French place. All of them. Without… without me. It-it was the wh-whole group, ex-except for m-me.” Your words stutter as the tears spill and your breath hitches, and Koutarou pulls you tighter against him, kissing the top of your head as his heart fills with sorrow. “I don’t… I don’t understand, Kou. What did I do wrong? I was always th-there for them. When Sayori’s mom was sick, I was over every day. When Mika had an anxiety attack and a breakdown, I helped her through each one, even if I was in the middle of one myself. When Hina got dumped, I was the first one there, and I…”
Your voice trails off as the sobs overtake you momentarily, Koutarou rocking you gently in his arms. He wants to find every one of these girls and tear them to pieces for making you cry like this. He senses you’re not finished, though, so he stays quiet, letting you seek comfort in his arms.
“They don’t even ask how I am.” You whimper into his shirt, and his heart shatters. “I… I make it a point, to ask them how they are, how their day was, t-to check on them. I give them s-so much of myself and it’s never returned and I’m-I’m left, l-like this. A-alone. Almost s-seventeen years of friendship, of me giving pieces of myself to them until there’s nothing left and I’m alone-“
“You’re not alone.” It’s not like Koutarou to interrupt you, especially when you’re upset, but as you look up at him, there’s a wild sort of panic in his eyes. His hands rest on the sides of your face gently, thumbs wiping away the tears. “You have me. You have Yukie and Kaori, Hinata, all of us. You don’t owe those girls anything. If they can’t see your worth, then they don’t deserve you. You give everything you have because you love with your whole heart and soul, and they’re dumber than a bag of rocks if they don’t return that love.”
Until there’s nothing left. That’s what you’d said that had caused that panic in his eyes, had caused his heart to drop out of the bottom of his stomach. There was something about the way you’d said it that terrified him, that raised an unbidden thought in the back of his mind that maybe you were suffering worse than you’d let on, that maybe one day you would leave him and the world in a way that would hurt much, much more than breaking up with him would.
“My love, please, please listen to me, okay?” His thumbs haven’t stopped moving on your cheeks, and he kisses your forehead and the tip of your nose. “You are not alone. Fuck those girls, who needs friends like that? You have better ones, people who know your worth and who will give as much to you as you do to them. Most importantly, you have me. I love you, with everything I have. You can take everything from me, I will give it willingly. Just because you have seventeen years of friendship with these people, you aren’t obligated to stay friends with them if it’s only hurting you. I know it’s hard, baby, I know.”
He pauses as your tears start afresh, and pulls you close again, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, the soft cadence of his voice washing over you. “I know it’s hard to let go of people who’ve been in your life for so long, but if it’s only going to hurt you more, isn’t it better to let go now?”
It’s a rhetorical question, and you know he’s right. Later, you’d muse on when Bokuto Koutarou got so wise. For now though, you let his words sink in as he murmurs soft words of love, comfort, letting you cry into his shoulder as he rocks you gently in his arms.
The yakisoba has gone long cold on the dining table, and you apologise meekly for ruining his hard work, and for scaring him when you’d come home. He brushes it off with a bright grin and says your punishment is one kiss, due and payable immediately. You oblige without hesitation, pouring all your love and gratitude into the touch.
The dopey, dreamy look on his face as you pull back makes you giggle and chase another kiss.
After you’d reheated the food and eaten (and boy, had watching Koutarou eat been a sight – he’d practically inhaled it, you were sure you blinked and the food had gone), you sit in bed, waiting for Koutarou to join you for some well-needed snuggles.
As you wait for him to finish his shower, you check your phone, meaning to scroll social media, when a message from one of your group chats dings. The messages must have been coming through all night, because the chat shows a +12 notification.
Fukurodani Wranglers~
Kaori: Hey girls! I’m gonna be in town next week. I miss you both! Dinner?
Yukie: YES
Yukie: I MISS YOU
Yukie: HOW ARE YOU
Yukie: WHERE’S MY LITTLE JUNIOR WHY ISN’T SHE ANSWERING
Yukie: EXCUSE ME
Kaori: She’s probs all wrapped up in that big owl’s arms the lucky duck
Kaori: excuse me tiny junior we miss you
Kaori: I’m so sorry I haven’t messaged either of you in a while I’ve been so swamped
Kaori: I kept meaning to and then forgetting and I’m a terrible friend pls forgive me
Yukie: FORGIVEN
Yukie: oi miss junior stop banging the Ace and answer usssss we miss you
Your heart sings. Maybe Koutarou was right.
You’re so busy smiling at the message that you miss Koutarou sliding into bed behind you, stealing your phone and taking a selfie (shirtless, hair down and damp from his shower, beaming) and sending it to the group.
By the time you’ve wrestled your phone back, you’re lying across his midsection, both of you giggling as you read what he’d sent.
You: 1 img attachment
You: HEY HEY HEY MY LADIES
You: im currently holding her hostage for cuddle time but she’ll bethere next week
Yukie: PLS NEVER WEAR A SHIRT AGAIN ^^
Kaori: Hiiiiiii Bokuto~~~~~
You: hiiiii Kaorifdfgblfnjg@#!@!
Yukie: what
Kaori: you good bokuto?
You: sorry girls, he stole my phone. I’ll be there next week. Sleepy time now, I’ll talk to you tomorrow?
Kaori: LOVE YOU!!~~
Yukie: goodnighttttttt~~~