Chapter Text
Akaashi takes a deep huff of his cigarette as he looks to the sky above him. The vibrant pink and oranges weave seamlessly with the pastel blues and purples, creating a symphony for the eyes to revel in. The bustling city noise quiets to a hum, as if it doesn’t want to disturb the orchestral masterpiece that settles above it. It’s a rare day when the sunset, looking this beautiful, and the city around them, seemingly vacated and quiet, coincide. So Akaashi decides to make the executive decision of turning his 15-minute break, into a 30. He’ll deal with Kita’s quiet wrath later; he can’t miss this. So, for now, he watches.
However, just like most things, serenity doesn’t last forever. And, for Akaashi, it’s abruptly brought to a premature end as he gets doused with a spray of liquid flower fertilizer. He looks over furiously to the culprit, though he doesn’t need to see them to know who it is.
“Bokuto, you absolute ass! What the hell is your problem?!”
Bokuto looks up at him innocently, “Oh, whatever could you mean? I’m just out here, doing my job, minding my business.” He continues to spray the flowers next to Akaashi, once again getting him completely soaked. “Something that maybe you should take pointers from, considering you’ve been standing out here, doing jack-shit, except make my peonies smell like tobacco, for the past 20 minutes.” Bokuto is smiling, but the only thing behind his eyes is pure, unfiltered rage.
Akaashi throws his, now unlit, cigarette to the ground. He brushes the liquid off his arms and wrings out the bottom of his t-shirt.
“It’s my fucking break, I’m gonna do what I damn-well please.”
“Then stay away from our shop.”
“I’m on our side! It’s your fault for having your flowers grow this close to border. Just move them!”
Bokuto scoffs but moves on to the next flowers to feed. “I wouldn’t have to if you just listened the thousand other times I told you to stop smoking those cancer-sticks next to our merchandise.
Akaashi is about to snap back at him when Suna sticks his out of the studio and calls for him.
“I just finished my last appointment and she’s saying she wants a lip piercing now.”
“Just get Daishou to do it or something, I’m on break.” Akaashi huffs back, still wringing out his shirt.
“Technically, your break ended 5 minutes ago, I didn’t say anything earlier because I was in the middle of a piece, but hurry up and clock back in, I can’t leave till you do.” When Suna makes a command, he is unrelenting, nonnegotiable. Since Akaashi knows it’s useless to bicker with him, he just turns back around to look at Bokuto, still standing there with the spray in hand, humming some obnoxious show tune, and looking like the picture of innocence.
“Hm, well look at that, guess you better get back to work after all.” Bokuto gives him the fakest smile known to man. Akaashi just settles on flipping him off before storming inside.
He walks past Kunimi, who is sterilizing and prepping his tattoo chair for his next appointment, and looks at Akaashi with a deadpan expression, “Why do you smell like ass.” He says with absolutely no hesitation.
Akaashi just glares at him and keeps moving. He hears Daishou snicker behind him. Whatever, he just has to finish this last appointment and all he’ll to deal with the rest of his shift are walk-ins, which they hardly ever have on a Tuesday evening.
His day only gets worse as, right when he’s about to clock out, Kita stops him and pulls him into his office. He gets a very long lecture about professionalism and how their shop thrives on their customers feeling secure in the cleanliness of their environment and how he can’t have his employees smelling like chemicals. Needless to say, Akaashi is mortified, pissed off, and now brings an extra change of clothes to keep in his work locker.
Then next time Bokuto sees Akaashi is on his day off. But it’s only in passing, as Akaashi walks into the flower shop while Bokuto walks into the tattoo studio next door. There’s an unspoken agreement between the two that’s been in place ever since Bokuto started working at the shop a little over a year ago. Him and Akaashi never go to the other’s shop while the other is working. Neither of them have very much trouble following it since they desire nothing more than to never see each other outside of when they’re forced to. Anytime the other is planning to make a visit to the other’s shop, they get their schedule from the Miya twins, one of each working at either shop makes this very convenient.
Bokuto doesn’t know the reason Akaashi is visiting the floral shop for, nor does he care. Bokuto’s just here for the latest session for his big, shoulder piece. If he remembers right, this session’s all about the shading and filling in of the top half. It’s gonna look kind of awkward for a couple weeks but then he’ll have his last session and finally have a finished piece. He’s absolutely ecstatic; he’s been planning for this one since he turned 18 but kept putting it off until he had a stable job and income and could comfortably save up without having to forgo meals for that week.
“Hey, Kunimi! You’re working register today? What happened Teru?” Bokuto pulls his ID out of his wallet for their obligatory verification process. Kunimi just looks at it for half a second, probably just to say he did, without lying, if anyone asked.
“He bailed last week, something about a sports scholarship and his girlfriend paying for anything he needs.” He pulls out a waiver, “Sign this and go sit over there.”
“Aw, that’s too bad. Hope he comes back; he was a real fun dude.” He hands back the pen and signed paper and moves to make his way to the waiting area.
“Wait,” He calls back for Bokuto. “Would you mind if Suga does your session today? It’ll take me forever to get everything set up and cleaned and switch with him, only to switch back right after you.” Kunimi was technically asking, but honestly, to Bokuto it sounded more like he was telling him that this was just how it was going to be today. And Bokuto really didn’t want to risk having an annoyed tattoo artist with full reign of his body, to wreak whatever havoc he so desired. Plus, it’s not like Bokuto minded much, I mean the line work was already done, all he had to do today was get it filled in. Anyone could do that, really.
Kunimi seemed to notice the slight hesitation from Bokuto, so he reassured, “Suga used to work here back in the day; he helps out every now and then when we’re short staffed. He’s got loads more experience than me, you’ll be in good hands.”
Bokuto won’t lie, that did reassure a bit more. “Yea that works, don’t worry.” He sees the slight sigh of relief escape Kunimi’s lips as he makes his way over to the couches to wait for this Suga guy to be ready for him.
He’s only been waiting for about 25 minutes when they call for him.
“Hey! Bokuto, right?” The man, who Bokuto presumes is Suga, speaks with a soft, friendly voice. For some reason Bokuto feels like he could spill all his doubts and worries and insecurities and Suga would listen to him with attentive eyes and drink tea with him and tell him everything would be okay. He shakes the image out of his head when he’s noticed he’s paused for an unnatural amount of time.
“Yep! That’s me!” He tries to smile widely to cover up the awkwardness of his stupid long pause to confirm his name. God, he’s so embarrassing.
“Perfect, it’ll just be this way.” He leads Bokuto to the chair in the back, “Sorry you don’t have your usual artist. I promise I’ll work to the best of my ability to offer you exactly the results you’re looking for.” The line feels canned, like it’s an instinct as natural as breathing. Bokuto’s never heard it before so he assumes it’s an old one that they don’t teach the younger artists anymore.
“That’ll be great, thanks!”
Overall, the session last two and a half hours, at which Suga offers to finish him off, seeing as the appointment after Bokuto had canceled, so he doesn’t have to have another session. Bokuto politely declines, saying he needs to head home and get ready for his shift soon.
Bokuto pays up front with Kunimi, leaves a nice tip, and waves them off with a thanks. He strolls into the Flower shop exactly 4 and half minutes early; not his best, but definitely something to be proud about. Leagues better than his usual sprint to the employee room in the back of the store to clock-in before he’s technically a minute late.
He’s doing his usual early-shift prepping, when he hears Sakusa and Kiyoko talking. He tunes them out until he hears his boss utter a very familiar name. A very unwelcome name to Bokuto’s delicate ears.
“—ince Akaashi’s been around.”
“Has it really? It doesn’t feel that long.”
“Well time just passes on by when you’re occupied, I suppose.”
Bokuto has definitely stopped what he’s doing to, very obviously, eavesdrop on their conversation. He’s not sure why, but he’s got to know what they’re saying about his arch nemesis. Ready at the drop of a hat to agree or disagree with them. Bokuto realizes that they’ve stopped talking now so he turns to see why, and he’s suddenly met with Sakusa’s icy gaze.
“Did you need something, or did you just decide listening to gossip was more worthwhile than the job your being paid for.” Sakusa’s voice was cold and held no room for compromise.
“No, sir! I very much appreciate this job and the work I do here. I was just… well, I mean,” He struggles to find an excuse, so he just decides to tell the truth. “I heard you mention Akaashi and wa—”
“Oh lord, not this again.” He rolls his eyes, probably even grimacing under his mask. “Just get back to work Bokuto,” He walks past him, presumably on his way back to his office. “And please, for the sake of your career as a horticulturist, drop this childish schoolyard duel.”
Bokuto flushes in embarrassment at being told off by his boss to stop acting like a child.
“Yes, sir.”
It’s a slow day in the studio today. So slow, in fact, this is Akaashi’s third time wiping down his chair, when nobody had been within a twelve-foot radius of it all day. It’s days like these that Akaashi wished he was more in tune with the youth and hopped on the latest social media craze. He’s always gets pressured into downloading the ‘next big thing.’ So, he makes an account, mindlessly scrolls, because they all just scroll, and finds himself greatly uninterested. He has so many dead accounts for absolutely nonsense socials all over the web that he hasn’t been able to keep them straight long enough to remember his logins to be able to go in and delete them. So he just settles for deleting the app off his phone and pretending it never happened.
Since he doesn’t have any socials whatsoever, he settles for pulling his phone out and just scrolling back and forth on the 3 pages of horribly disorganized home screen. Maybe he should just bite the bullet and get himself a flip phone already. And he would prefer it, really, but the social pressure of fitting in has too great of a hold on him. He’ll just have to come to terms with technology being the only thing that’ll never be organized in his life.
His brain finally comes online, who knows how long later, when he hears that familiar jingle signaling the door being opened. Being the only one at the studio—Kita’s in his office doing manager things and Suna’s on his 30—he rushes to the register.
“Hi! Welcome to Kitsunari Ink. Are you here for a tattoo or a p—” His automatic response halted when he actually looks up at who just walked in. “You.” Venom coats his words.
Bokuto momentarily forgets why he’s there in favor berating his least favorite person in the world. “Why are you here?! You don’t work today.” Bokuto says in outrage. How dare his precious eyes have to be subjected to the torment that is looking at Akaashi Keiji.
“I’m covering for Kunimi, not that you need to know. And how did you know I wasn’t supposed to work today?” He crosses his arms, a smug smirk spreads across his cheeks. “Tormenting me wasn’t enough, you had to resort to stalking?”
“I get my info from the same place you do so get off your pedestal.” Bokuto huffs and shakes his head, “You know what, never mind. It’s not worth it.” He starts to leave the shop, the door jingling as he opens it.
“What? You really chicken out just because you don’t want your feelings hurt?” Akaashi delivers the last half of his statement with and overexaggerated baby voice, just to really send the message home. “Some adult you are.” He laughs.
Bokuto turns back around in a frenzy. “I am an adult, thank you very much! And, as an adult, I know when and where certain actions are appropriate—”
“Oh, really? I couldn’t tell.”
“—and I came here to ask Kunimi about something going on with my tattoo he’s been working on and came by the unfortunate act of having to see your ugly face so excuse me as I go since you have nothing to offer me.” Bokuto makes a dramatic scene of stomping to the exit when, right as his hand connects with the door handle, Akaashi speaks up.
“Hey dipshit, not sure how it’s slipped your mind, but I’m also a tattoo artist… I also work at a tattoo shop. Anything Kunimi knows, so do I. Probably more so honestly, considering I’ve got at least a few years of experience on him.”
Bokuto briefly toys with the idea of ignoring Akaashi and leaving but his break is almost over, and he really needs to know if this is something serious, the internet is telling him he needs to have his arm amputated and he’s really starting to believe it.
He eventually decides that he’ll deal with Akaashi’s evil smirk and smug torment over only having one arm. He rolls his sleeve up as far as it will go in order to show his area of concern.
“I got this done like a week ago but the past couple days it’s started to scab painfully and it’s super red around it. I’ve never gotten a tattoo before so I’m not really sure if this is normal or not.” He doesn’t look Akaashi in the face, too embarrassed to see his demeaning glare all but say, ‘What? You got a tattoo that big when you’re such a crybaby about the pain,” and, ‘HAHAH, that’s the stupidest tattoo I’ve ever seen!’ Or even, ‘Wow, you really screwed up the cleaning. There’s no saving it now, you’ll be lucky to end up with only an ugly scar.’
What he absolutely does not expect is what actually comes out of Akaashi’s mouth.
“Yikes. Yeah, that does not look terribly comfortable.” Bokuto looks up at Akaashi and doesn’t see the demeaning glare he was expecting, but instead a concentrated, almost bored, expression.
“So, good news, the scabbing is normal, and it actually looks to be healing up pretty nicely. Of course, it looks a little scary to any tattoo newbie, especially for a first piece of this size,” Akaashi falls fully into work mode, talking out of instinct, briefly forgetting who it is he’s speaking to. “Now, what’s a little concerning is the redness surrounding it, it’s swollen in a few areas too.”
“Is that bad?” Bokuto asks, trying to contain the panic he’s feeling from showing in his speech.
Akaashi leans back now, arms crossed and looks smugly at him, “Well it’s definitely not good.”
“Obviously I know that!” the frustration at having such a prolonged interaction with the devil-incarnate, “I mean how do I fix it.” He spits through a gritted teeth smile.
“Ah, well you probably just have a mild sensitivity to our ink and are having a little allergic reaction,” Akaashi sees Bokuto’s eyes widen at this. He laughs at the expense of his discomfort, “It’s not a huge deal, just put some hydrocortisone on it a few times a day until it feels better. You don’t need to cry about it.”
“I am no—you know what, I got what I came for so now I’m leaving. Have a terrible day.” And with that, Bokuto turns and leaves, successfully this time.
On his way out Akaashi waves him off, “Please don’t come back soon.” He yells out to Bokuto, but he’s already gone.
And like the work of a cruel miracle, Kita steps out from the back room. “Did you really just tell a customer to not come back?” He asks in a bit of disbelief.
The color drains from Akaashi’s face. He cannot believe his luck. There’s some cruel, cruel god up there that is just dead set on Akaashi losing his job.
When Akaashi gets home all he wants to do is cry. Even though he know Kita only lectures him out of love and a desire for Akaashi to be the best he can, he still does not take criticism well at all. It’s just so humiliating. What’s even worse is that he was still going when Suna came back from his break. How’s Akaashi ever going to face him again. He decides what he really needs right now is a warm bath while watching a really adorable animal documentary.
So he does just that.
When he gets out, his eyes are red and puffy, because he did, in fact, end up crying. He curls up on the corner of the couch with a heated blanket and just pouts. God, he’s acting like he just went through a bad breakup. To be fair, Akaashi actually feels worse about this today, than he ever did during a breakup. To pout and cry and wallow, you’d have to first actually care about the person and Akaashi just didn’t fall in love that easily. Or at all. But he really respects and appreciates Kita; he doesn’t want to disappoint him. He will forever be grateful to Kita for picking him up as a lost teenager and teaching the beauty of body modifications and, unintentionally, how to love himself again.
Akaashi does let himself briefly think about how he wouldn’t feel this bad if he had more friends around him instead of just Kita. He’d spent that last few years reinventing himself, after cutting himself off from his parents in a rush, that he hasn’t really made any friends outside of work. He’s felt ready for a little while now to open himself up, but he just doesn’t know where to start.
Like a sign from the gods themselves, he gets a text from Kunimi. It’s a picture with a message attached. Akaashi opens it hesitantly, praying to anyone up there who’s listening that it’s not an accidental nude.
Kunimi (work): hey thanks a ton for covering for me today i really needed that today lol. anyway as a show of my gratitude im gonna let you in on the exclusive invite to this really sick underground concert. there’s a bunch of… extra-legal, activities going on, so you need to bring a mask to disguise urself. Its super exclusive so be grateful
Attached is a barely visible picture of a flier with the dress code and address in some hideous font that makes Akaashi wish he’d never taken that semester of graphic design. Yea, he sure is so very grateful for this blessing. Akaashi can’t believe he really thought this was a sign from the universe or something. He could almost laugh at how ridiculous this was.
Another text comes through
Kunimi (work): thsnks again
This time he does laugh. Kunimi is so grateful that he forgot how to spell check. It’s not like he expected anything in return when he chose to cover for Kunimi, but he honestly feels like he deserves something more than an eyesore of a flier to compensate him for having to deal with Bokuto in any capacity. Akaashi clicks his phone off and tosses it to the opposite end of the sofa. He can’t believe that underground raves, or whatever this was, were really a thing and not just something poorly written movies used as an excuse to move the plot forward.
What would a place like that even look like? Maybe Akaashi should check it out, purely to see if the movies were right. He quickly shakes the thought out of his head. He can’t believe he was actually entertaining the idea of going for a moment. It’s okay, we all have moments of weakness every now and then.
Except… was it really a weakness to have a general sense of curiosity about a new experience that just presents itself in front of you on a silver platter, begging to be devoured? No, Akaashi supposes. Just because it’s convenient and a bit odd doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a poor idea. In fact, maybe it’s just the undiscovered possibility Akaashi’s been looking for.
Akaashi realizes where this line of thinking is going to go so he spares himself the effort and makes plans to stop by the party store this week to pick up a mask, because this is just the way his life appears to be going right now. It’s ridiculous—absurd, even—but honestly, Akaashi had just spent the last hour, damp and sweating while sitting in tepid water and ugly-crying as he watched a baby deer take its first steps.
It’s not like he has any pride left to lose, so he might as well jump in the deep end while he’s at it and go. Who knows, maybe he’ll have a good time?
Akaashi laughs at this notion. Who is he kidding…
He’s probably going to get arrested.