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“What do you like, Akaashi?”
The question came out of the blue, Bokuto-san’s expectant face meeting his gaze. They had been studying for exams in the captain’s room, books askew on the desk and bed. Akaashi paused from his chemistry work, pencil in hand. His friend was sprawled out on the bed, books and papers long forgotten around him. A pencil balanced loosely on his forehead, teetering side to side.
“What do you mean by that, Bokuto-san?” He inquired.
The owl-like boy sat up, pencil dropping into his lap. His hands moved behind him to support his weight. “I mean, ” he huffed, flopping back down onto the sheets. “Outside of volleyball, what do you do?”
“Well,” Akaashi started. “What do you do outside of volleyball?”
Bokuto groaned, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Akaashi! You can’t answer my question with a question! That’s not fair.”
Akaashi hummed in acknowledgment. “It seems that I can answer with a question since I just did.” After a moment of quiet grumbling from Bokuto, the younger boy sighed, putting down his pencil and turning to the boy on the bed. “Fine. I’ll answer your question if you answer mine, is it fair now?”
The bed creaked from the loss of weight as Bokuto jumped up, choosing to sit on the floor across from Akaashi. He sat with his legs criss-crossed, hands resting on either thigh, eyes wide and gleaming. Apparently the proposition made was fair, else he would still be sulking on the bed. Akaashi mirrored his sitting position, unfurling his legs from where they were curled up against his body. They might have looked like two grade school girls about to play a round of patty cake, but Akaashi couldn’t find it in himself to care.
“So,” he prompted. “Bokuto-san, what is it you like outside of volleyball?”
The boy seemed to consider this for a minute, although he knew the question was coming. His eyes flickered with realization, hands coming up to grip at his knees. Loudly, he proclaimed, “I like owls! Your turn, Akaashi.”
Their school mascot, the owl. While technically separate from volleyball, the symbol is still closely related to the game. The brunette let it slide, figuring that he wouldn’t get another answer out of Bokuto.
“Ah, good one Bokuto-san. I also like owls.”
A hand pressed down on his knee then quickly removed itself. “Akaashi! You can’t just say what I said! That’s not fair again!”
Although his best friend was whining, a smile could be heard through his voice. “See, those weren’t the terms. I simply said I would answer your question if you answered mine,” Akaashi said smugly.
“Don’t be mean to me! Ugh, I should have never let you and Kenma hang out, now all the both of you do is bully me!” Bokuto complained, bending down so his forehead touched the floor. His hair dangled over, practically reaching Akaashi’s lap.
He reached out and patted the hair in front of him reassuringly. “There there, Bokuto-san. Kozume-san and I are good friends now. Thanks to you we have a blossoming friendship on the basis of poking fun at you. I find it refreshing to be around someone that shares my sentiments.”
“Ugh,” Bokuto sighed, scooching over to allow his cheek to rest upon Akaashi’s knee. “I’m going to tell Kuroo. He’ll defend my honor and answer my questions. So mean to me, and for what?”
Akaashi let his friend rest in his lap for a few minutes, occasionally running a hand through the bi-colored hair. He knew that soon Bokuto would doze off to sleep, but he kept going nevertheless. He scratched gently at his scalp, running his somewhat blunt nails through the locks. His hands stopped at the base of the skull, gently tugging upwards then moving back to push hair back from his forehead. Another minute or so, then-
“How are you so good at that?” A mumbled question from the nearly asleep boy.
A fond smile appeared on Akaashi’s face. “Magic,” he whispered, feeling his friend shudder as he continued scratching.
Breath blew out against his thigh, another small huff from his best friend. His head turned, neck almost twisted like an owl’s so that wondering eyes could study him.
“Akaashi?”
…
“Yes?”
“Please answer? Pretty please? I just-” he broke off, yawning, “I wanna know.”
Curiosity killed the cat…
“I like…”
But satisfaction brought him back.
“Literature. Writing. I like springtime. Thunderstorms. I like Celery. But… I think out of all, I like you the best.”
The same hand caught his wrist before it could card through the hair again. It slid upwards, grasping at a palm for mere seconds before fingers intertwined. Warmth soaked into his hand from the point of contact. Akaashi glanced down to see golden eyes, bright, shiny. The hand connected to those eyes gripped tighter, squeezing. Not painfully, just-
His heart is beating fast. I wonder, what does mine feel like?
“Akaashi?”
“Yes, Bokuto-san?”
“You’re my favorite person in the whole entire world. No, wait- you are my whole entire world, you know that?”
“I do now, Bokuto-san.”