Archive of Our Own ^beta

Bokuto was happy to be home.

He wanted to be clear – he enjoyed traveling, especially with the national team, considering everyone was so spread out these days and really only overlapped during competitions or the off-season – but nothing beat the feeling of being back home. The only thing better than returning to Osaka was getting to go back to Tokyo, though these days that meant either returning to an empty childhood home or curling up on Akaashi’s too-small couch. (He preferred the latter.)

Coming back from Gresik this time was a little bittersweet. On the one hand, the team had totally crushed it at the Asian championships and now he got to show-off a shiny gold medal, but this was the first time in a long while his honored tradition of celebrating a return from abroad with Akaashi wouldn’t come to fruition. Udai Tenma was in danger of having his latest manga getting canceled, which meant he and Akaashi had morphed into twin stress-tornadoes who worked too many hours and couldn’t take the time off for a trip north. (Bokuto insisted he was happy to make the trip there instead, but Akaashi made the face aka the 'If I were the cause of a disruption to your life I will kill myself' face and that had been that.)

It was only kind of a major bummer. Their post-travel meetups in Tokyo started after his first Olympics in Brazil. It was the most chaotic month of his life, and he bought his return flight to Tokyo in a frantic haze, showing up at the Akaashi residence teary eyed. Akaashi-san had cooked up a storm for her son and his best friend, and they ate and watched Bokuto’s highlight reel until he felt whole again.

Even after Akaashi moved out, he made sure to always see Bokuto when he came home…except this time.

But he wouldn’t die from not seeing Akaashi just this once.

Probably.

Anyways – Bokuto really was happy to be home, and even happier to be at MSBY practice. Sure, he’d spent the last few weeks traveling with Omi-kun, but he had missed everyone else too! Tsum-Tsum was probably dying to know all the details about playing with Kageyama and Oya Masaki (and he was also definitely jealous that he hadn’t made the National team cut off for the second year in a row). Practicing with MSBY carried the same warmth as stepping off the plane and back on Japanese soil. It was comfortable, familiar.

He used his water bottle to spray himself in the face, sighing out loud at the feeling of cool washing over him. When he opened his eyes, he saw Hinata beaming at him -- and without hesitation, beamed back.

“Hey, hey, Hinata! Good practice today!” Bokuto clapped Hinata on the back with his free hand, grinning gratefully when his newest teammate handed him a towel.

“Thank you, Bokuto-san! I think I’m getting more comfortable setting,” Hinata said, looking toward Atsumu. “I kind of get why setters are, you know, like that.”

Bokuto did get it. Setters were insane -- they were the most selfish while still being selfless, they were hungry but calculating and they saw a billion things where he himself only saw a few. “I know,” he said solemnly. “But I think you start pulling off quicks with Tomas-san, Tsum-Tsum will kill you.”

Hinata snorted. So did Inunaki, who was lingering near the water station close enough to hear.

“Why 's my name being said? What're you talking about?” Atsumu appeared in a matter of moments, petulant and sweaty. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Shoyo-kun, you’re not planning on stealing my spot, are you?”

“Nooooo, Atsumu-san, I would never!” Hinata held up his hands defensively. “I’d miss hitting too much! And digging. And I guess blocking, but technically I could do that anyway, and--”

“Okay, I get it. And good, ‘cuz your sets still need some work.”

Hinata squawked in indignation, setting off a small but energetic squabble between them. Bokuto grinned as he watched, easing his way to the ground to get in his stretches. He loved good practices; the Black Jackals were a team of like-minded men who fed off each other’s energy. On this team, good moods were contagious.

“Good work today, Bo,” Meian said, jarring Bokuto out of his thoughts. He sat beside him and started to stretch. “Your hard work is really paying off. Seriously. You better keep the energy you took to Gresik into this season. ”

“HEY HEY HEY OF COURSE I WILL!” Bokuto hollered. Meian winced, but he was smiling still.

There was laughter from the rest of the team – and a few echoing “hey hey hey!” The energy of a good practice seemed to infect everyone today.

“Stretch out and rest well tonight boys, you deserve it! ” Meian beckoned for a foam roller from one of the trainers. He nodded his thanks as he caught it and started working out his hamstrings. “Sakusa, I see you slinking away. You know, if you keep running away I’m gonna think you don’t like me.”

Sakusa made a face, like he was debating the merits of arguing the point or not. “I’ve just been exposed to too much direct Bokuto lately,” he said instead. Bukuto gasped and clutched his chest, betrayed; Omi just rolled his eyes.

“You’re gonna be seeing a lot of Bo and the rest of us too, this season,” Meian grinned. “I have plans, buddy. And before you even think about – you can't get out of the annual spring Shugo Party. My wife would be crushed.”

Sakusa sent their captain a baleful look. “I don’t like parties.”

“It’s not just any party – it’s a Shugo event!”

Bokuto was pretty sure Sakusa was going to say refute again, but he was almost immediately flanked on either side by Hinata and Atsumu. They were fixing him with puppy dog eyes -- only Hinata’s were really effective, but Atsumu was convinced he pulled it off.

“Oh my god,” Sakusa groaned, palming Hinata’s face and shoving it away. “Fine, I’ll go. Stop breathing so close to me.”

Atsumu took an enormous huff of air just to piss him off, while Hinata whooped despite the hand on his face muffling the sound.

“Alright, alright,” Barnes laughed, pulling Hinata away by the back of his jersey. Barnes, Bokuto thought, was nice -- he had the deepest voice ever and enormous hands. Standing next to Hinata, he looked as if he could trip over him by mistake. His Japanese wasn’t perfect, but Hinata and his rotation of languages kept up with him just fine. They started to chatter in broken Japenglish as the rest of the team made their way to the showers.

“The last one was seriously the best party I’ve ever been to,” Tomas said. “Can we hire Hana-san as a traveling chef for away games? Seriously?”

“Only if Atsumu gets Osamu too. I mean, think of all possibilities--”

“We’ve got time to figure it out,” Meian cut in. “But the invite’s out, officially. And bring plus ones!” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Hinata and Barnes looked toward their captain at the same time. “I don’t have a date,” Hinata said with a shrug. “Could I bring my sister? She’d probably pass out from excitement.”

“Of course! All kinds of plus ones are welcome.”

Bokuto beamed -- last year’s party had been excellent, and meeting everyone’s families and significant others was so exciting! He would’ve brought his sisters, but neither had been in the country, but Meian’s wife, Hana-san, made up for it by giving him his own look-alike cupcake.

Other members of the team started chattering again-- but above the noise, Meian was trying to get his attention.

“Bo,” Meian said, “you should bring your boyfriend!”

“Yeah!” Bokuto agreed. It took several seconds for him to follow up with, “I mean, I would, except I don’t have a boyfriend?”

The noise in the gym skidded to an abrupt halt. Bokuto felt about a dozen pairs of eyes swivel on him -- usually a great feeling, but this...felt a little suffocating.

“I thought…” Barnes looked between Hinata and Tomas, at a loss for words.

“What happened to Akaashi-kun?” Tomas supplied.

“Akaashi?” Bokuto repeated. His tongue felt very odd, nearly tripping over the name he was so familiar with. “Nothing happened to Akaashi?”

Sakusa was squinting at him. Or, rather, upon closer inspection it was more like a glare. “Bokuto, isn’t Akaashi your boyfriend?”

Was it hot in this gym, or was that just Bokuto? Was it possible he had suddenly caught on fire? His face felt like it.

“No?” he said, though it came out more like a question and less like an absolute truth. Even though it was the truth.

Bokuto was not dating his best friend. He didn’t have a boyfriend, especially not a boyfriend that was Akaashi, and it was a little bizarre that everyone currently in the gym seemed to think otherwise.

“Oh,” Meian blinked. “My bad, Bo, I just thought….ah, nevermind. Bring him anyways! We’d love to meet him!”

“We only hear about him nonstop,” Inunaki grinned (except it looked a little wolfish -- what was up with that?) “It’d be nice to meet the legend himself.”

“Sure!” Bokuto said, even though he felt like he was missing something everyone else seemed to pick up. “I mean, I’ll ask him. But yeah, that would be great!”

The matter settled, Meian passed his roller back to a trainer and hauled himself up to his feet. Bokuto watched Meian book it to the showers. The captain seemed to be in a hurry all of a sudden.

“Bokkun.” Atsumu offered a hand to help him up, forcing his attention away from the captain. “You were hitting like a cannon today, man. I felt like I was setting to a machine. Glad you remember how to hit my sets.”

Just like that, he forgot Meian’s oddness, and instead preened under the praise.

“Aww thanks, Tsum-Tsum,” Bokuto beamed. He let out a quiet oof as Atsumu slung an arm around his shoulders. “I missed you too! You should come over later! Maybe we can catch a Volley Lube game before it ends?”

Atsumu pretended to think about it. He liked to do that -- play pretend, to hem and haw as if he would turn down Bokuto’s offer. He rarely did, and especially not when he was as in as good a mood as this. “You’ve got yourself a deal, buddy,” he settled on. “You also smell like ass so please don’t skimp on the shower before we go.”

He was also kind of a dick. But Bokuto was used it; he saw through Atsumu’s callous remarks and understood the affection in them. He still shoved him away, laughing.

(The other not-so-secret reason Atsumu rarely declined Bokuto’s invitations was because they were literally neighbors. It was hard to say no when Bokuto could clearly see he had no other plans. Not that this stopped Atsumu from trying it -- Bokuto just caught on quickly; the third time, he simply knocked on Atsumu’s door, pulled him forward by the hoodie, and they ended the day on his couch, yelling obscenities at a Polish league match until late into the night.)

They chatted mindlessly as they walked home together – about the Gresik tournament, Atsumu’s coveted stance as the number one server in the league, the list went on. Atsumu was talkative, once you got him out of his shell, and Bokuto could carry a conversation with a brick wall without even trying.

“By the way, Bokkun,” Atsumu said, his voice shifting into something more serious. Or was Bokuto just making that up? “You’re not -- what Meian-san said at practice didn’t bother you, did it?”

“Huh?”

“Ya know, when he said…the thing.”

Bokuto blinked.

“Damn, you forgot already? That’s...kind of impressive actually.”

“I mean…” Bokuto shrugged. “Today was a good practice! I feel great! And I told you, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m just a regular ace now, Tsum-Tsum.”

Atsumu made a peculiar face. “That’s not what I...oh forget it. I’m too hungry for this, you got any snacks?”

In his apartment, Bokuto had plenty of snacks. He was a big eater. He was also a pretty illustrious cook (Akaashi’s words, not his) and handed Atsumu a small tupperware of leftover soba. “Feel free to eat on the couch,” he said. “I gotta take care of some chores, but go ahead and put the game on.”

“Thanks – wait, aren’t you gonna eat too?”

“I’ll grab something in a sec!” Bokuto said, already walking away. “Hey, isn’t that new kid their starting setter now?”

“A newbie setter?” Atsumu looked hungry -- and not just for food. “You gotta be shittin’ me.”

Bokuto just laughed at how easily his friend could be distracted. He picked up both of their shoes and placed them neatly on the shoe rack by the door, a housewarming gift from Akaashi when he’d first moved in. There were a few dishes in the sink from that morning, when he’d been rushing to get to practice on time and didn’t get the chance to put them away properly.

After the dishes, he checked the fridge and updated his weekly grocery list. He wiped down the counters and took his bag to his room to sort out laundry. Except, maybe the laundry could wait, because there were new texts on his phone to reply to.

The group chat between him and his sisters had several unread messages in it, which he was happy to catch up on.

GROUP CHAT: HOUSE BOKUTO >:)

Aneki: Don’t forget mom’s birthday is coming up. Do you want me to send gift options?

Kazooka: omg yes!!!!!!! u are a lifesaver

Aneki: By the way, guess who I ran into at lunch today?

Aneki: [sent photo.jpg]

Kazooka: KEIJIIII  

Kazooka: HE LOOKS SO ADORABLE IN HIS GLASSES ( 灬♥ω♥灬)

Kazooka: tell him i said hi!

Bokuto hesitated for all of two seconds before opening the photo his oldest sister sent. It was a selfie -- a really adorable one! Renho was by far, the most put-together person Bokuto knew; her hair was always perfect, as was her outfit and smile, and she had found excellent lighting for the picture in whatever coffeeshop in Tokyo she took it in. And next to her, smiling reservedly but clearly content, was Akaashi.

Bokuto zoomed in. His hair looked a little messy. Was it longer? He’d video-called Akaashi a week or two ago during the tournament, but seeing his face felt important every time. Like there would be something new to uncover if he stared long enough.

Renho’s visit to Tokyo was last minute, she’d said; it was some conference she was asked to speak at, she was only flying in for the two-day event and wouldn’t have a chance to make it to Osaka. For the first time in a long while, she would be the only Bokuto in Tokyo; Kazue was still in China for the rest of her soccer season, and his parents were abroad; not that Bokuto himself minded. Well, he did mind. But he couldn’t do anything about it, except look at photos of Renho and Akaashi from hundreds of kilos away and wish he was there, if only he was there.

He refused to let that train of thought bring him down. But he felt his heart twinge when he saved the photo.

Kouchan: NOOO WAY YOU GOT TO SEE AKAASHI!

Kouchan: I MISS TOKYO :((((  

Kouchan: IM SO JEALOUS

Kouchan: So lucky!!!  

It was okay if he missed Akaashi, especially since they were missing tradition. He scrolled through his other messages: there was one from Kuroo that was just a meme of an owl with photoshopped eyebrows, with Bokuto also saved and replied with a photo of a cat with terrible jet black bedhead pasted onto it.

From: Greatest disciple  

Hi Bokuto-san! Is it ok if I come over?  

To: Greatest disciple  

HEY HEY OF COURSE! COME THRU WHENEVER!  

He kept scrolling:

From: Kaasan  

If you’re headed to Tokyo this weekend, Aunty Minho is watching the house while Tousan and I are headed to Malaysia again. We’ll bring you back a souvenir! Tell Keiji-kun we said hello : )

To: Kaasan

I can’t head home this weekend after all. Send me pictures of the beach!!!

From: Akaashi

[sent photo.jpg]

I found an owl at Starbo today.

It was the same photo Renho had sent. Bokuto grinned just as hugely seeing it a second time.

To: Akaashi

Hey hey hey at least now I know you’ve consumed some kind of food in the last week!!

I already called dibs on you!!!!

Kazue said she likes your glasses, but the way

I can’t believe I can’t be there to hang out with you two :((((

Also that photo is...10/10 adorable (´♡‿♡`)

From: Akaashi

If you call me adorable again I will be forced to end you.

To: Akaashi

Sooooooo adorable wow I could pinch your cheeks  

From: Akaashi:

You’re dead to me

Bokuto threw his head back and laughed. He forgot his laundry and tucked his phone into his pocket, returning to the couch and unceremoniously dropping next to Atsumu. “What’d I miss?”

“Newbie Russian setter pulled off a back-to-back dump and overpass hit,” Atsumu grumbled. “He’s on a fucking roll!”

“Why do you sound so mad about that, Tsum-Tsum? It’s not like you’re playing him!”

“Not yet,” he grumbled. “He’s like, barely 19! Who the fuck let’s a 19 year-old setter start?”

“Lube, duh,” Bokuto supplied unhelpfully, and laughed outright when Atsumu smacked him with a pillow. “Hinata asked to come by, he should be on his way soon.”

“The more the merrier,” Atsuma said crabbily. Which wasn’t a dig at Hinata so much as it was him continuing to whine about the Lube setter.

Bokuto’s phone buzzed, and he broke his eyes away from the Lube game long enough to check the incoming text.

From Akaashi:

Tell Renho-san I said thank you for the coffee. To be honest she caught me at a really embarrassing time, so I was reluctant to stop and chat but I’m glad I did

To Akaashi:

What’s up is everything okay?

From Akaashi:

My studio is considering making me an assistant editor on a separate project. Not a weekly manga, so it’s not a forever thing – the deadlines in a few weeks but it’s...a lot of responsibility

And they just renewed Udai-san for another volume! Which is wonderful and what we wanted, but I will be even busier as a result  

I was running late to another meeting and almost ran Renho-san over

To Akaashi:

OMG  

Renho bought you a STRESS COFFEE

THE WORST KIND

Congrats tho!!!! I guess? I mean doesn’t that mean they think you’re good at what you do?

From Akaashi:

….it was a stress coffee. My third for today.

I suppose it does, but a part of me wishes they would express their gratitude in the form of a raise. Or maybe a few compensation days. I feel like I haven’t been able to take a day off in months.

And this is the first time in years I don’t get to see you after a competition abroad.

I’m happy with the responsibility but still…

To Akaashi:

You’re such a workaholic, dude.

“Bokkun,” Atsumu said, “are you texting Akaashi?”

Bokuto’s head shot up. Right. He was in his apartment, with Atsumu, watching a volleyball game. He tapped the power button on his phone and shoved it back in his pocket. “Not just Akaashi! My sisters and Hinata too! Oh, and Kuroo– ”

Atsumu raised a thick eyebrow and jutted his chin upward. “Shouldn’t you be in Tokyo this weekend?”

Bokuto wanted to explain but he never got the chance to -- as he opened his mouth to speak, the doorbell buzzed.

“Hinata’s here!”

“Real fucking convenient,” Atsumu muttered. Bokuto took it upon himself to ignore the comment as he got up to open the door.

At the door, Hinata was grinning brightly, holding a brown package on one hand and a bag of takeout in the other. “A delivery guy just dropped this off. It’s from Akaashi-san!”

He thrust the box into Bokuto’s hands as he came inside. “Hi Atsumu-san! Hey – are you guys watching Lube? Did you see their new setter?”

“I want to kill him,” Atsumu said without hesitation.

“You are such a drama queen.”

“Shoyo-kun! You wound me!”

Bokuto stopped listening for a bit; he was too focused on the package in his hands. It was certainly from Akaashi, wrapped neatly and even had a hand-drawn doodle of an owl on the outer corner. He opened it quickly – inside was a card with a cartoon owl on the front and “YOU’RE A HOOT!” in bold letters above it.

Inside, in Akaashi’s messy handwriting, it said:

Bokuto-san,

I apologize for missing our tradition this time around. I look forward to seeing you after your competitions, but we’ll both have to settle for video calls for now.

In the meantime, I got you this as a present.

Okaeri.

–Akaashi

The prettily wrapped present turned out to be a -shirt with twin huge volleyballs overlapping, harboring flames. It…kind of looked like a butt, to be honest. The text read: KISS MY ACE. Bokuto immediately snorted out loud – for someone so serious Akaashi really had a thing for shitty puns.

“Akaashi-san has weird taste,” Hinata commented as Bokuto shook the shirt out to show off.

“He does,” Bokuto said, laughing still. “Hey take a picture of me with the shirt so I can send it to him!”

He posed with the terrible shirt and a huge smile while Hinata snapped the picture on his phone. Atsumu, looking surly from his spot on the couch, raised on eyebrow. “Akaashi got you that?”

“Yeah! He said he felt bad about not being able to see me with weekend.”

“Huh,” Atsumu said. He didn’t elaborate.

Bokuto’s ears twitched; he knew there was something Atsumu wasn’t saying, and it was going to drive him crazy. “Tsum-Tsum what is it?”

“Nothing! Really!”

“Duuuuuuuuude!”

Hinata snickered behind his hand.

“I just think Akaashi is real cute, that’s all,” Atsumu said, feigning innocence. “On an unrelated note, should I be expecting wedding invites soon?”

“I’m not marrying Akaashi,” Bokuto said with a frown. He brightened – “But hey, we’d love to go to your wedding with Ojiro!”

Atsumu flushed bright red instantly; Hinata whooped and gave Bokuto a high-ten.

“Atsumu-san, maybe you could bring Ojiro-san as your plus one–”

“Oi! Shut up already, would you?” Atsumu griped. “Loud-mouthed bastards….”

Hinata and Bokuto proceeded to chirp him about Ojiro for a while longer, but of course they completely forgot about it as the Lube game extended into a fifth set. Eventually they were screaming at the TV, stuffed full of takeout.

Bokuto was so happy to be home.

#######

Saturday morning’s were Bokuto’s favorite. He was an early riser naturally, and he could indulge himself on weekend mornings with a leisurely run. If he was early enough, he could even catch the sunrise. Today was a lucky day; he was out the door by 6:30, headphones snug over his ears, and he caught the sun peeking into the new day on his 3k around the city.

By the time he made it back to his apartment, it was barely 7. He had the whole morning to himself before he had to head to practice. Bokuto put on his morning playlist and made himself breakfast and smoothie, then planned out the rest of his routine in his head as he sat down to eat.

Keeping routines was something Bokuto hadn’t really excelled at until he’d moved to Osaka – partially thanks to Akaashi and his college coach. His playlist was a joint effort with his sisters but all the other stuff were suggestions from the team’s psychologist.

After breakfast he would do his weekly grocery run, and then come home and put everything away and clean up. He would water his plants, meditate and journal a page or two, and then either catch up on manga or watch TV until it was time to knock on Atsumu’s door so they could head to practice together.

And on their way, he would send his first text of the day to Akaashi (who slept as late as humanly possible and usually didn’t get around to replying until nearly lunch half the time.)

To: Akaashi

Morning! Don’t forget to do your laundry today

Don’t work too much!

I’m definitely wearing your gift to practice today, I can’t wait to see the look on Meian’s face when he sees it

From: Akaashi

What an ironic message, coming from you, since you didn’t know how to do laundry until I showed you

I’m glad you liked the shirt.

To Akaashi:

Holy shit why are you awake

From: Akaashi

Pulled an all-nighter with Udai again. We’re making good progress though.

To: Akaashi

BUT YOU STILL NEED TO SLEEP???

From Akaashi:

We can sleep when we’re dead.

#######

Later that evening, worn out from a long day of practice and errands, Bokuto was happy to just take a load off on his couch. He caught up on the laundry he’d forgone the day before, humming as he folded away while watching TV, and nearly yelped in surprise when the doorbell rang.

He wasn’t expecting anyone – Atsumu did show up unannounced sometimes, but he was like, 99% he’d gone on a date after practice – but the absolute last person he’d assumed would be at the door was his oldest sister.

“R-Renho?”

Bokuto’s heart hammered against his ribs. He wasn’t dreaming, he knew, but it felt surreal seeing his sister standing in the hallway outside of his apartment. She was grinning in that excited but slight way he missed; her arms were open, beckoning him into a hug, and he didn’t even remember consciously moving into it before he felt himself pressing his face into her shoulder. She was only around 6 cm shorter than him but a great deal more slender; not that it mattered, not that any of that mattered, because she was here! For real here!

“Surprise!” Renho trilled softly, and Bokuto whooped out loud as he squeezed her tighter. “You didn’t think I would come all the way to Japan and skip out on seeing you, did you, Kouchan?”

Whatever Bokuto tried to reply with was unintelligible as a result of his happy tears.

Renho rubbed his back, as if he was seven and not 23. “Okay, that’s my fault. I’m sorry I haven’t visited in so long, really.”

“It’s okay,” Bokuto forced out, and then forced himself to let go of her. “I’m just! Really happy to see you! I thought you couldn’t make it to Osaka?”

“I decided to make it work,” Renho grinned. “I changed my flight out of here for tomorrow morning. I was supposed to leave from Tokyo earlier today but I had to come see you.”

“Come inside!” Bokuto blurted out, as if possessed. He bent to grab her carry-on and drag it inside. “I can cook something! Or we could go out to dinner -- I don’t really care, I just want to catch up, and also maybe convince you to stay in Japan this time around.”

He felt, more than saw, Renho’s face fall. “I can’t stay,” she said quietly. “But I have so much to tell you about Seoul! I think you’d really like it, you know?”

“I know, like, two Korean words total,” he said. “Plus, I have been before, they host tournaments sometimes. I’m just not really that big on living abroad. How’s Luke?”

He knew two things about his sister’s fiance: one, he had proposed in the summer at the beach and was so nervous he nearly dropped the ring in the sand, and two, that he had his Ph.D in Korean language even though he was half-Japanese. Actually, three things. The third was that he was just about the smartest person Bokuto had ever met.

“He’s doing well. He’s been invited to teach a short term class at Kindai next semester, and I’ve been trying to convince him to do it,” she said. “I know I wouldn’t be able to move here with him, but I think it would be a good experience for him overall.”

Bokuto didn’t beg his sister to move to Osaka, because that would’ve been childish and he knew better. But he still wanted to, very much.

“You’d at least be able to visit him, right?” he said instead. “Tell him I vote in favor of him moving here! It’d be cool to hang out with him more.”

“I’ll do my best,” she acquiesced. “Hey, why don’t we go out instead of cooking? My treat!”

#######

They sat side by side at the bar of a restaurant Bokuto insisted on.

“Akaashi loved this place when I brought him here,” he said after they took their seats. “He still talks about it sometimes.”

“I have to be honest, Kou, I really felt like I had to come see you after I saw Keiji yesterday,” Renho said, studying her chopsticks closely. “There was something I wanted to ask you.”

Bokuto hardly paused in his meal. “What’s up?”

“Are you and Keiji...” she trailed off, and tried again, “I just think he makes you really happy. I’m glad you two have stayed so close for so long.”

“Yeah!! Me too,” he said happily

“That kind of friendship is rare, you know?” She looked at him; they had eyes of twin colors, molten gold, shimmering. “I know it’s not really the same thing, but you two kind of remind me of myself and Luke.”

For the first time since they’d sat down, his sister had caught him by surprise. “Huh?”

“When we first met, I had no idea how much he would mean to me,” she explained. “I thought he was just some handsome graduate student who made good conversation. And then before I knew it, I couldn’t imagine life without him.”

His chest felt tight. Bokuto knew what that felt like. He couldn’t imagine his life without Akaashi in it, even though they were apart in distance.

“Ah,” Bokuto said, failing to complete the rest of his sentence, because he had no idea what to say.

For some reason, talking about Akaashi suddenly felt...heavy. An old and familiar feeling was trying to rear its head up within him, and Bokuto kept squashing it back down.

He pushed the food around on his plate, trying to figure out why it felt like there were rocks in his stomach.

He knew his sister well enough to know where she was going with this – and he also knew better than to try and stop her, if she’d already made up her mind to talk about it.

“You told him how you felt, didn’t you?” Renho said it gently, but they both knew she already knew the answer.

Still, Bokuto didn’t want to give in so easily. He loved his sister dearly, but she was bringing up something he hadn’t thought about in years.

“Akaashi and I are just friends,” Bokuto said firmly. He didn't expect his voice to sound so harsh. It was just that, he didn’t understand why this was coming up now. Nothing had changed between the two of them….not that he was aware of.

Renho looked at him as if she could see straight through him, like rice-thin paper. “Kou, if you have feelings for--”

“I don’t!” Bokuto said quickly. He didn’t want the words to make it out of her mouth. They would have too much power. “What the heck, Renho?”

“I don’t understand why you don’t want to talk about this. You know Kazue and I are always here for you, no matter what? We just don’t want you to let something great slip through your fingers.”

Bokuto felt choked. “I know,” he gritted out, trying his best to keep his voice cheery. “And thank you! Really!! But there’s nothing to talk about.”

And that was the truth! It was weird that this had come up twice in the last few days; as if everyone in his life suddenly wanted to play a much greater role in his friendship with this best friend than ever. Usually, Bokuto would appreciate the attention, but this just felt like he was getting put under a microscope and inspected from all angles.

But that said, Bokuto really didn’t like lying to his sister. So he dug deep within himself and found the guts to say –

“Akaashi already rejected me when we were like, still in high school, and I moved on, so it’s okay, seriously. We really are just friends.”

When Renho didn’t say anything, he added, “And I’m okay with that, I swear.”

Bokuto wasn’t a good liar, and the words came out confidently. Renho tilted her head, but she didn’t shoot him with a scathing look, so clearly she didn’t think he was trying to get away with a lie.

“Okay, Kou,” she said, voice soft. “I’m not trying to push, I just...I just want you to be happy, you know that.”

Suddenly panicked, Bokuto turned to his sister. “You didn’t say any of this to him, did you? Because Akaashi is busy with work and I don’t want him to think something’s up–”

“No,” she shook her head. “But I feel like I should’ve. I hate to meddle, but I worry about you two.”

Bokuto looked down at his plate, face twisting in confusion. “There’s nothing to worry about, though,” he said firmly, but he kind of felt like a little kid. “I’m not a baby anymore, Renho, you don’t have to waste time worrying about me!”

Renho gave him a solid once-over. She must’ve seen something in the look on his face, because she just sighed and folded her napkin over her lap. “Right,” she said. “You’re always going to be my little brother, Kou, but you are a big kid now. You can handle yourself. Sorry I keep forgetting.”

She fidgeted with her napkin a bit longer, as if debating on saying more, but decided against it.

“Okay, now that I’ve made this sufficiently awkward, let’s talk about something else. How’s volleyball going? Tell me about the Jackals.”

And so he did. He told her about the tournament in Gresik, about playing with the national team for the second year in a row. How, according to Akaashi, Meteo Attack was still in the works for the time being, but Udai occasionally called to chat with him about volleyball and he was supposed to go to Tokyo in the new year for a proper dinner together.

He told her about how he was pretty sure Atsumu had a crush on an old teammate: “Remember that Inarizaki third year who was below me out of the nation’s top 5? He plays on the Tachibana Falcons and last time we played against them I’m pretty sure Atsumu had a total meltdown about seeing him.” He told her about Sakusa’s grudging but very touching approval and their budding friendship. He told her about being a normal ace, and how good it felt to not be known as the “moody” one.

She smiled softly, nostalgically. “You know, your mood swings still weren’t nearly as bad as Kazue’s when she was your age. But I’m glad things got better for both of you.”

Renho was a perfect older sister, Bokuto thought. She was caring in all the right ways; she was kind, she was beautiful, she was gentle but tough.

She was also really, really good at pulling herself out of the equation.

“Renho,” Bokuto said, as if he was just seeing his sister for the first time.

The mood swings that plagued his teenage years. He was twelve when his parents sat him down to talk about the hormonal moods of their family; his doctor sat him down after and told him puberty could possibly make things worse. “We’ll monitor it,” she had reassured him. And they did, but the medications made him feel like a rain cloud that couldn’t rain, and life without them felt like a terrible roller coaster that would skyrocket him into the sky at a moment's notice, just to send him plummeting to the ground minutes later.

He knew Kazue had them too. There were several broken items in their home to show for it; things Kazue had snapped or smashed or thrown in a fit of unfitting rage. While his moods just left him feeling crummy and sad, hers had awashed her in ire.

And he always remembered Renho in the background. She was quiet, much more so than he and Kazue had ever been. She was calm and reserved, able to talk either sibling down from more extreme moments.

He had never thought to ask, in all his twenty-three years, about his sister. Until now. “Did you have them too?”

Renho pushed the noodles on her plate around. She clicked her chopsticks together once, twice, three times before answering. “I did,” she said quietly. “They weren’t as bad as the two of yoursl. Or, they weren’t quite so….noticeable, I guess. But I mostly had them early on in middle school, so you were too young to really know what was going on.”

The face she made was something akin to a smile, but empty, ghostlike. “I hid it better too. It made it hard to concentrate, so my grades would start to drop, and that’s how Kaasan and Tousan realized what I was going through.”

Bokuto felt like a shitty brother. “I’m a shitty brother,” he said out loud, surprised (at himself? At the truth?) “I never knew that.”

“I didn’t want you to,” she shrugged. “And you’re not a shitty brother, you were just five! You could barely write your own name, let alone medically diagnose me with a mood disorder.”

She snorted into her drink, and Bokuto couldn’t help but laugh at the unexpected bluntness. “Still,” he said, smile fading. “It sucks that you didn’t have your own Renho to help you through things like Kazue and I did! I would’ve helped if I’d known.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter, Kouchan. You helped even without knowing you were helping, just by being there.”

They ate in silence. Bokuto kept turning this new information around in his head. It was hard to wrap his head around it; he’d thought Renho had been born perfect. But she was born just like him, if to a lesser extent; her brain treated her mood like a plaything that could be toyed with like a light switch.

She was just able to handle it without being a burden on everyone around her.

Without thinking, he said, “You’re really the coolest, aneki.”

Renho laughed. “I’m glad you think so.”

She held out her glass, and Bokuto clinked his own against it.

#######

GROUP CHAT: HOUSE BOKUTO >:)

Aneki: Can confirm, Kou got taller

Aneki: [sent photo.jpg]

Kazooka: OMG YOU GUYS HUNG OUT WITHOUT ME （つ Д ｀）

Kazooka: man i miss home 

Kouchan: Come home!

Kouchan: When does your contract end

Kouchan: We’ll see each other in November!!

Kazooka: HEY HEY YEAH WE WILL UR WEDDINGS RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER NEECHAN

Kazooka: tell luke-san he’s the best for finally putting a ring on it aka giving us a sick excuse to partyyyy

Aneki: I’m not telling him that

 ######

SEVEN YEARS AGO.

#######

Bokuto didn’t know today was going to be the worst day of his young life when he woke up. In fact, he thought it would’ve the best.

You see, today was the last day of his second year of high school. Fukorudani had made it to the semifinals of the Spring tournament; he had just been elected captain for next year, and today was the day he would finally ask his vice-captain out.

Konoha knew he was going to do it, because he had pointed out rather offhandedly that “that first year really likes you, huh, Bo?” and ever since the thought hadn’t left Bokuto’s brain.

He knew Akaashi liked him, because Akaashi didn’t really like anyone but he went out of his way to talk to Bokuto. He sat beside him on bus rides and went over volleyball plays when they ate lunch together. He poked and prodded personal details out of Bokuto like a goddamn champion; he took his recently diagnosed mood dysregulation in stride and figured out how to redirect his attention. He took to Bokuto more than any other person outside of his family ever had.

It wasn’t his fault he had an enormous, hopeless crush on Akaashi. It was only natural. Akaashi was really handsome, even though he denied it. Like really handsome. His eyes were infinite and pretty, and even though he went to school with bedhead almost everyday it was easy to see his attractiveness anyways.

Akaashi also was — really nice, but more than just that. He stuck around. Bokuto noticed; he couldn’t not notice, and he couldn’t stop himself from being enchanted by it.

After their last volleyball practice of the year, Bokuto hung back (like he always did) and by extension, so did Akaashi.

“Hey, Akaashi,” Bokuto said, grinning as they took down the volleyball net together. “Let’s win nationals next year.”

Akaashi snorted. “You say that like it really is just a matter of us deciding to do it.”

“Isn’t it? You’ll be our starting setter next year, and I’ll be our ace! We’re going to be unstoppable!”

“We’ll be something, that’s for sure,” Akaashi had said calmly. Which was about as close as he ever got to real smack talking, so Bokuto grinned too.

“Hey! Hey, there’s something else I wanted to ask you too,” Bokuto said.

The way he saw it, things could go one of two ways:

1. Akaashi would say, simply but clearly interested, “I like you too” and that would date forever and be happily ever after.
2. The same as option a, except with more kissing.

Either way, they would have several weeks of summer to sort things out.

“Akaashi, I really like you.”

“That’s not a question,” Akaashi pointed out automatically. Then, “and I like you too.”

“You do!?”

“Of course I do,” Akaashi said. “You’re very obviously my best friend, Bokuto-san. Stop drawing this out just because you want to hear me say it.”

“No, I mean-- Akaashi, you're the best, and you're really, really, pretty and I like you a lot. I like-like you. Do you want to go out with me?”

The pole in Akaashi’s hands abruptly hit the ground, the resounding thud echoing through the empty gym like gunfire. When Bokuto looked up from disentangling the net, Akaashi was staring back at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“I,” he started, “you are,” and then he went slack jawed.

“‘Kaashi?” Bokuto blinked. “This is the part where you accept my confession.”

Akaashi moved his mouth without making any sound like a fish in water. And then, once he was able to find his voice, he said, “I’m sorry, Bokuto-san,” which was a weird way to agree to go out with someone, in Bokuto’s opinion.

“I like you very much,” Akaashi said again, “but I don’t think it’s the same way you like me.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t like you romantically,” he said, and the words hit Bokuto’s ears but simply didn’t register. “So….no, Bokuto-san, I don’t want to go out with you.”

I don’t want to go out with you.

I don’t want to go out with you.

Unexplored option c) get hopelessly, crushingly, rejected.

“Oh!” Bokuto dropped the net. He hadn’t broken his gaze from Akaashi’s face, and it suddenly hit him that he should. He’d just been rejected, after all -- he could at least be properly ashamed of it. “Oh,” he said again.

“That is--”

Terrible

“Okay.”

This feels terrible and I want to sink into the floor--

“It’s okay! It’s okay, really, it’s--”

--not fine at all, my chest hurts--

“Bokuto-san?”

“You’re my best friend too, Akaashi,” Bokuto blurted out, and in the same breath, “also I just remembered that I need to go home right now alone! Have a good summer, Akaashi, I’m really- sorry I--” and then Bokuto was out the door.

He had started tearing up at some point during that attempt at words, but he didn’t know when. He felt terrible. He felt more terrible than he had in a long time; he would rather get punched in the gut at full force by Washio than whatever the fuck this was. God, it was like he couldn’t breathe. Like Akaashi had sucked the life from his lungs in one split second and now he would never live again.

By the time he got home, his face was red and tear-stained, and his mom hugged him fiercely; the kind of hug that got rid of monsters under the bed, but unfortunately, did little against fresh out of the oven heartbreak.

His phone buzzed several times, enough that he put it on silent so he wouldn’t be reminded of it. Kaasan made his favorite food. It tasted like I don’t want to go out with you so Bokuto didn’t eat much of it, just went to Kazue’s room and sat on the foot of her bed like a cat.

She wasn’t home -- she was at soccer practice, like always, and he fell asleep with his legs curled up to his chest and his fists in her sheets. By the time she came home it was too late to move him, she just slept curled up on the other end.

He had approximately two dozen texts when he woke up with his phone at just a few percent battery.

From: Akaashi

Bokuto-san, are you ok?

Why did you storm out like that?

I mean, not why why, but are you ok? That was worrying

I’m sorry about what I said. I wish I could give you a different answer, but I wouldn’t want to be dishonest

I feel like I’m making this worse

Just text me when you get home so I know you made it ok?

Did you make it home?

Are you seeing these messages?

From Konoha:

Hope it went well, casanova

Shit fuck that text did not age well

From Kuroo:

Yoo. are you alive? Akaashi is texting me to check on you as if I’m an emergency contact

What the hell did you do to that first year?

Bokuto didn’t reply to any of them. He just let his phone battery die, and couldn’t help but wish he could do something similar. Just collapse under the weight of a depleted battery and sleep until he felt recharged enough to truck on. But he didn’t feel rested after a night’s sleep; it was fretful and he was cramped and his head hurt from crying so much.

“Fuck,” he said out loud.

I don’t want to go out with you.

FUCK.

“Good morning to you too,” Kazue said, and Bokuto nearly jumped out of his skin.

He’d forgotten this was how he fell asleep. He looked up at her miserably. “Sorry, Kazue.”

"What're you apologizing for, big guy?"

“Sorry for taking up your bed,” he elaborated. “And sorry I cried all over your sheets. And sorry that this is going to be a bad day, a really bad day.”

“Oh, Kouchan, what happened?”

The words wouldn’t leave his mouth. He tried really hard to say it, to say I don’t want to go out with you. I don’t like you romantically. I’m sorry Bokuto-san.

“Akaashi,” he choked out, and the rest was lost. Fresh tears squeezed out of his eyes.

Kazue patted his head and let him cry. “It’s okay, Kouchan,” she cooed. “You’ll be okay, it just hurts a lot now. But I promise, you’ll survive this.” And usually when his sisters said that to him, he believed them; but today the anchor sitting in his stomach told him otherwise.

He was right about one thing: it was a really bad day.

Bokuto successfully ignored all the texts on his phone for another two days, until Kuroo started getting sad at him and the guilt forced him to send him a message explaining what happened. Or at least, a version of what happened. The truth didn’t come out until Kuroo called him and then Bokuto had to spill his guts out over the phone like they did in bad teen movies.

It took about a week and a half for Akaashi to show up on his doorstep. He looked frantic, Bokuto thought, from where he was hidden in his room and watching through the window. His hair was mussed, which was usual, but he couldn’t stop moving, which wasn’t. He kept shifting his weight and his face was pulled taught.

The last text from him on his phone was:

From: Akaashi

How much longer are you going to ignore me?

Kaasan, the traitor, let him inside. He could hear her give directions into his room. Traitor.

Bokuto really thought about not opening the door, but Akaashi said, “Your mom told me you’re in here so you can’t pretend you’re not,” after the tenth knock, so there went that plan.

Bokuto felt like sludge sliding its way across the floor. Someone else was moving his hand and opening the door with it. The same person forced his eyes to meet Akaashi’s.

“Bokuto-san,” his self-proclaimed best friend said.

“...Hi.”

“You look terrible,” Akaashi said. “I-I mean, you look...like you haven’t slept.”

“Ah, yeah,” Bokuto said. He didn't elaborate.

For some reason, Akaashi looked like he could cry. His overall expression didn’t change much -- it never really did -- but Bokuto could tell. He knew these things.

“I’m really sorry Bokuto-san but the truth is I can’t stand this. Please reply to my texts. Please stop ignoring me. Please call me at ridiculous hours just to ask me a stupid question like you always do. Please talk to me about volleyball. Please talk to me about nothing, or everything, or anything, but I’m sick of this.”

Akaashi curled his hands into fists. “I didn’t know I would miss you this much, but I do. So. Can we go back to being best friends?” He scrunched his face, eyes shut tight. “I’m sorry that I don’t like you even though I like you very much, just not all the same way, but part of it is still the same, since you like me as a best friend and that's the same way I like you…” He gripped the space between his eyebrows and rambled on, “I feel like I’m not even making sense. I’m sorry I don’t get any of this, but I do get that I think I’m going to go crazy if you never talk to me again.”

This was probably more words in one go than Akaashi had spoken all year.

Bokuto could cry. In fact, he was crying -- and it was super embarrassing, crying in front of Akaashi at any given time, but especially like this.

He sniffled, and Akaashi’s eyes flew open. “I keep,” he swallowed thickly, “I keep making you cry. I’m sorry about that too.”

“It’s just been a bad day,” Bokuto assured him, wiping at his face. “Well, a bad week really. But I’ve been busy with volleyball.”

That much was true; he had started practice with the U-19 team the week before and it was awful, but Akaashi didn’t need to be burdened with that, on top of everything else.

Akaashi’s face twisted up. “Don’t do that. Stop lying and making excuses, you’re bad at it.”

“Akaashi…”

His friend looked crushed— it was rare that Akaashi showed his emotions on his face like this. “This is all very new to me, Bokuto-san. Please, just...say something real.”

Bokuto sniffed. He couldn’t stop himself; he was an honest boy, through and through. “I miss you too.”

The relief was visible in Akaashi’s face. His shoulder’s loosened. His fists unfurled.

“I’m sorry I ignored your texts,” Bokuto said quietly. “It was just…” he trailed off, too embarrassed to admit out loud.

He didn’t want to admit to having his heart broken by his best friend, and he didn’t want to lie but he also didn’t want to make said best friend feel bad. So he just stared at the ground and hoped that Akaashi could fill in the blanks on his own.

He could. He always could.

“I’m sorry, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi was picking at his hands.

“Stop apologizing,” Bokuto said, partially a whine. “Just, stop it. I don’t even blame you, I mean, you can’t help your feelings. I’m just being a big baby like always.”

It was stupid to think someone like you would like me anyways. It was stupid. I’m stupid.

Akaashi looked at him closely, and for a harrowing second Bokuto thought he was reading his mind. But all he said was, “You are a big baby, but please never ever ignore me again, that was terrible.”

“O-okay.”

“I’m sorry I apologized so much.”

Bokuto snorted. “Okay.”

Quietly, as if scared of the words, Akaashi asked, “Am I still your best friend?”

“Duh,” Bokuto said, and then wrapped his around around Akaashi in a huge bear hug. Akaashi yelped, but let it happen. That was okay; Bokuto appreciated being indulged after almost two weeks of starvation.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said as he endured the hug, “I really do hate seeing you this sad, and I’m sorr– er, I hope that I never make you this sad ever again. Promise me you’ll get over me quickly, so you can be happy again. Promise?”

“I promise,” Bokuto said automatically, because Akaashi could ask anything from him and he would say yes every time.

#######

So.

So, the Bokutos, as a family, were peculiar; Bokuto knew this, and loved this. His oddities were normal among his family; accepted, appreciated. He was normal Koutaro with them and he didn’t have to think about it too much.

So, the thing was, when separated from his family, it became obvious that Bokuto was odd. He didn’t act like everyone else, he was...a lot. That was what Konoha said once in second year; that he was a lot, and the thought sat heavy in Bokuto’s head for a whole 24 hours until Akaashi shook him free by teaching him how to rebound off blocks.

His dad was a quiet man. He was also the most doting person Bokuto has ever known. In all his memories, that’s what sticks out -- his mother’s boisterous energy charging forward and his dad leisurely following behind, passing out gifts and affection and indulgence to not just his wife, but his kids as well.

Bokuto took after his mom in almost every way. He had her salt and peppery hair, her volume, her exuberance, her impatience, her mood swings, her smile, her naivete. From his dad, he took that carefulness with others, his observance, his overwhelming fondness for people close to him.

“Kou,” his dad told him, “in this family, we keep our word. If people can’t trust your promises, what good are they?

That made sense, and he tried to maintain it. He didn’t lie, he was borderline incapable of doing so. Bokuto was an honest boy who shared his feelings where everyone could see them, and did his best to keep his word.

So. Bokuto was a normal boy, in the context of other Bokuto family members, and he was an honest one, and a loud one but he tried, he tried really hard, so no one could say it was his intention to break his promise to Akaashi.

He was seventeen and swallowed his crush whole; he grated it down and kept it in a locked box, and he never ever let it out because that went over like a lead balloon when he tried.

Promise you’ll get over me quickly, okay?

It wasn’t for lack of trying, but it was a broken promise nonetheless.

#######

Bokuto’s first year of college was a whirlwind. Being almost entirely on his own for the first time was a test of fortitude at the very least, and for the first time he had to carve out his own routines alone. His team was likeable and they played well together, but they were no Fukurodani. On the bright side, it was also the first time he played on the same team as Kuroo.

Between classes and practice, Bokuto tried to make time for homework, but it was borderline impossible when his phone kept ringing and distracting him.

“Hey hey, Romeo,” said Kuroo’s voice when Bokuto picked up his phone.

“Kuroo! Who is Romeo?”

“You, dumbass. How’s Reo?”

Bokuto smiled, even though Kuroo couldn’t see him. He read somewhere once that it was easier to feel happy if you smiled, even if you didn’t really feel like smiling. Something about tricking the chemicals in your brain. “Reo and I broke up,” he said, and he was smiling without really wanting to smile. “I thought I told you?”

“Dude, no? Literally the last time we talked you couldn’t shut up about her! What happened?”

What happened was that Reo, like those who came before her, realized that Bokuto was exactly who he appeared to be on the surface. He was loud and excitable and emotional, he was caring and polite and disciplined. Except. It was just that, there was something missing; not that his actions were half-assed, but rather, that he was distracted.

Koutaro, it feels like you’re looking at something just past where I’m standing, it’s like I can never get your full attention. Why is that?

He didn’t have an answer, and so Reo broke up with him. She did text him for one last night together afterward, and even laying together naked and sweating she still huffed that his mind was somewhere else.

“It just didn’t work out,” Bokuto said lightly. “She was really nice, but I think it’s for the best.”

Kuroo was silent on the other end of the line. If he were here, he would see how well Bokuto was handling it. He hadn’t cried at all, and he’d even paid the tab for their drinks at the coffeeshop where Reo had ended things. He walked her to the train station and he didn’t dip into that dark, sad place even once.

“Bo,” Kuroo said with a sigh. “Is everything alright? No lies allowed.”

“Kuroo--”

“Because this is like, your third break up this semester, and I’m not judging, I'm just worried that maybe this is some kind of pattern? And you don’t seem phased at all?”

“I-” Bokuto felt a little lost. “I’m doing so well! Dude, I didn’t even lose sleep over it this time. Aren’t you proud of me?”

“This isn’t a competition, Bo.”

It was. “I know that,” he lied, pitifully. “It’s just that, I’m not a total baby about getting dumped. How is that not a good thing?”

“You’re allowed to have feelings, you know that right? Just because they’re big feelings doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have them!”

“But -- yes it does? I mean, it means that I should learn to keep a level head, which I’m doing and that’s a good thing--”

“Kou,” and that was Kuroo’s serious tone. Shit. Bokuto didn’t even know what he’d done wrong. How was he getting the serious voice? “Keeping a level head and numbing yourself from feeling anything are two different things. Why did you even ask Reo out in the first place?”

“Because-”

Because this is what people did, right? He sought out people who captured his attention, people who he thought were pretty or handsome and would take up his focus, people who could distract him.

“Because I liked her!”

Damn, he really needed to get better at lying.

“That’s bullshit. What the hell, dude? You know you’re a bad liar. Just tell me the truth.”

“No!” That was not what he meant to say. “I mean, I did tell you the truth!”

“Bo, you literally just admitted to lying!”

“If I tell you the truth you’re gonna get mad at me,” Bokuto said in a rush, “and I’m probably going to cry, and I really, really don’t feel like doing that, Kuroo. I’m doing so well.”

“Repressing yourself from feeling anything is not doing well.”

“Dude -- I just -- it’s like you want me to be a mess! I hate feeling that way! I don’t care if Reo breaks up with me, she thought I was a volleyball idiot anyways, I’m not going to lose sleep over her, she was nice and I liked her, for real, but it was never going to be--”

What I felt for Akaashi, he didn’t say. But Kuroo was smart. He could fill in the blanks.

“I fucking knew it,” he said, and if he didn’t stop immediately Bokuto was going to end up sulking in his dorm room all night. He didn’t want his roommate to see that. “This is about that stupid promise you made, isn’t it?”

The warm, sharp feeling in the back of his throat warned of waterworks. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Oh my god, Bo, if you don’t quit trying to lie to me I’m going to punt you across campus! Why are you torturing yourself, you big dumb owl!”

“I’m just keeping my word,” he said, voice cracking.

“This isn’t healthy, dude. If you do want to really move on from Akaashi you have to confront your big feelings, not bury them.”

Bokuto inhaled deeply. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he snapped. It was rare that Bokuto got angry, but these feelings inside were getting bigger and bigger, and it was getting harder to keep his composure when Kuroo kept poking him. “I mean – there’s nothing to think about. I made a promise, and I’m keeping it! I moved on and it doesn’t matter what you think because it’s the truth. Listen, I’ll see you at practice, okay? I can’t do this right now. I can’t.”

He waited long enough for Kuroo to huff out a very unhappy fine before hanging up.

Practice went fine, because Bokuto was an ace now, after all. Superficial things didn’t ruin his game, no matter how much Kuroo kept trying to stare him down during blocking drills.

Bokuto didn’t fall apart. He didn’t shed a single tear.

And he definitely did not think about Akaashi.

#######

After Reo there was Kento, the boy from Kyoto who ghosted him over the summer, and Anuman who kissed him so sweetly Bokuto never noticed how flaky he was. After him there was Leila, the British exchange student who told Bokuto in broken Japanese that she liked his hair dye. He wasn’t sure if she ever really understood his answer that this was his natural hair color, but Leila had her own apartment, and they ended up doing a lot more fucking than talking anyways.

By his fourth year, Bokuto gave up on dating. He could be honest with himself; he didn’t like being dumped. He didn’t like being discarded and left behind, and trying to juggle those feelings while also trying desperately to fall out of love with his best friend and focusing on volleyball was just too much hassle.

His MSBY contract also came in fourth year. He got the email during lunch with Akaashi. They met up halfway between the city like they always did, at that noodle place Akaashi loved. It was only fitting that Akaashi was the first person to know that MSBY officially wanted him to play full time; he’d been the one to walk Bokuto this far, after all.

“I knew it,” Akaashi said earnestly. “Congratulations, Bokuto-san. I’m really proud of you.”

Immediate affection filled  Bokuto’s chest, and he ducked his head. “Akaaaashiiii,” he pouted, “you’re gonna make me cry!”

“But it’s the truth. I am really proud of you. I knew you could do it, I knew you would do it. I never doubted for a second.”

“Gahh!” Bokuto yelled, smushing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Thank you! But seriously stop it or I’m going to cry like a big baby in this restaurant!”

“You are a big baby,” Akaashi teased, smiling. Truly smiling, Bokuto realized when he moved his hands away; a rare, wide smile on his best friend’s face. It was brilliant; warm. Like sunlight.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Bokuto said before he could think better of it. But it was true, and his gaze bore into Akaashi’s as he said. “Your sets really are the best, ‘Kaashi.”

“You deserve the best,” Akaashi said, equally as earnest. He broke his eyes away first, changing his focus to flag down a waiter. “Excuse me, but I would like to order a dessert for my friend. We’re celebrating.”

“I’ll take the chocolate croissant!” Bokuto’s heart swelled. He felt so full of happiness, and it felt natural. If not for the table between them he would’ve pulled Akaashi into a bear hug. “Thank you!!!”

“You’re welcome, Bokuto-san.”

It was hard, Bokuto thought, to picture himself without an Akaashi-shaped spot in his heart. Impossible, even. But he would do it, with time, because he promised. He swallowed that thought down like a pill, and even though he was sitting across from Akaashi and his affection with the sweet taste of chocolate on his tongue, the mood felt a little more bitter than it had before.

#######

Bokuto realized two things:

1. The MSBY Black Jackals were based in Osaka. That felt close to home, compared to Kazue all the way in Shanghai, and Renho in Seoul. At least he got to stay in Japan! Tokyo would always be his home, even if he had to leave it.
   
   
2. Akaashi had another year left at Chuo, meaning he would be in Tokyo for another year and this would be the first time he and Bokuto didn’t live in the same city. But that was okay, because Akaashi would always be his best friend, no matter how far apart they were and no matter what happened. He would miss Akaashi of course, but the pain in his chest would fade with time once he adjusted to Osaka. Their friendship would truck on, and Bokuto would never want anything more than that.

No matter how much he had to shove down his feelings – eventually, he would never want anything more than that.

…Eventually.

#######

PRESENT DAY.

#######

The following weeks were busy -- not more so than usual, but that was Bokuto’s life. There was a lot of volleyball, always, but also a lot of little things. His routine was well-structured, and suited him well. He called his family members at least once a week; Kaasan and Tousan were going to Singapore for a business conference-and-wedding, so they’d be gone for a week.

“You two travel too much,” Bokuto whined, balancing his phone as the pots on the stove boiled and simmered. “How come you can go to Singapore but not Osaka?”

“Huh. Maybe we should go to Osaka,” Tousan said, stroking his chin.

“Our son doesn’t need his parents dragging their feet behind him,” Kaasan trilled. “Besides, this is what getting old is for, Kou! But you know you could travel too, if you wanted to.”

“I already travel a bunch for volleyball,” Bokuto frowned. “And I like Japan. Plus I’m pretty sure I’m like, incapable of learning other languages.”

“HEY HEY,” his mom said. “You? Incapable? We don’t use that kind of language in this household, you know that.”

“I’m not in your household,” Bokuto pointed out. “You guys are barely in your household!”

The call ended in laughter, with that certain twinge in the back of Bokuto’s palette, reminding him that this was how things were now. Spread out, apart, distanced, all the time.

He video-called Kazue; Renho let them know ahead of time she wouldn’t be able to make the next handful of calls, she and Luke were neck deep in wedding plans and she couldn’t escape.

“You still have meeee,” Kazue said, and then proceeded to enthrall him on her tales for the week: how her teammates had surprised her for her birthday with a cake in the shape of her face, how she met a K-pop star at the bar they went to after and got thousands of likes on her instagram selfie together, how their goalie had seen his picture and now harbored a terrible crush on him.

“I think you’d like her,” Kazue said, with a look and then burst out laughing as Bokuto pouted.

“I’m just kidding,” she laughed. “I know you’re already spoken for.”

“I’m - what?”

“I mean,” Kazue said airily, “you’re too busy to date. Because of volleyball.” She coughed into her hand, and he could’ve sworn it sounded like and Keiji but he decided to ignore that.

“Hey,” he said instead, “how’re things going with Wei?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you -- that’s, uh, good now.”

“Good?”

“Great, even!” said Kazue. “Becuase guess what, Kouchan? I have A GIRLFRIEND. HEY! HEY! HEYYYYYYY!”

The rest of the conversation was excited chatter that got louder and louder and louder, so loud that when Bokuto ended the call, the silence felt deafening.

He video-called Akaashi too, which was like pulling teeth because he’d been working long hours for nearly two weeks straight. When he picked up, Bokuto was surprised to see the bright, fluorescent office lights behind him.

“Akaashi!” he cried, which was about as good as saying ‘hello’. “It’s already 8 o’clock, you should be home by now!”

“I know,” Akaashi sighed. He sounded so tired. “But this new project just keeps getting bigger and bigger every day, and I’m not at a stopping point yet. Though I am taking the morning off tomorrow, so I can sleep in after this.”

“I guess that’s better than the alternative but -- wait, you’re not just going to work from home are you?” Bokuto asked suspiciously. “Because tomorrow is Thursday, and you always have your weekly meetings with Udai-san and the senior editors on Thursday morning.”

Akaashi didn’t say anything. For some reason, the camera was no longer pointing to his face, but at the ceiling above him. Bokuto gasped dramatically as he put two and two together.

“You are just going to work from home! You’re incorrigible -- did I use that right?”

Akaashi slumped, head falling into his hands. “You did. And you’re right. But as soon as this new project is over, I’ll be able to rest. I think.”

“What happened to the deadline being just a few weeks away?”

“It got pushed again. To January.”

“That isn’t fair, ‘Kaashi. You gotta put your foot down.”

Akaashi made a sour face. “I will,” he said unconvincingly. “Or rather, I wish it were that easy. But for the time being, you’ll have to endure seeing my office during our calls.”

“Well...I’ve never seen your office before, so I guess that’s okay. Do you have anything to make it, you know, personal?”

There was a pause, and then Akaashi swiveled the camera around to show off his desk. It was cluttered, first of all; between the two of them, Akaashi was the messier one (surprise!) and apparently that also extended to his work desk. Strewn across his laptop were several sheets of loose paper, highlighters and pens and multicolored sticky notes. Behind the mess, a few figurines sat on shelves. Luffy, Ichigo, Alphonse’s suit of armor-- and then rows of pictures.

There were a few of Akaashi’s mom, one with his grandma, the Fukurodani volleyball team, a few people Bokuto didn’t recognize and then-- himself. Again, and again, he saw his wide smile; sometimes next to Akaashi’s soft one, sometimes alone, one with Kuroo and Kenma.

“I like your photos!”

“That’s because half of them are of you,” Akaashi grumbled, turning the camera back around. “I feel like putting up photos of my mom and grandmother was a mistake. Whenever I stick around too late, it’s like they’re scolding me.”

“That’s just your conscience, dude.

“Ugh,” Akaashi sighed again. “Please, stop reminding me. I picked up the phone so you could distract me, not scold me too.”

“Hmm,” Bokuto pressed his lips together in thought. “Something distracting...oh! I’ve been doing some super secret spy work.”

“What?”

“Getting intel,” Bokuto wiggled his eyebrows. “I heard that Myaa-sam is opening a Tokyo branch soon! There’s no official date set, but he's aiming for spring next year.”

Akaashi didn’t say anything at all. And then, after several seconds, his eyes misted.

“You’re soooo weird, ‘Kaashi. I’m screenshotting this.”

“Stop,” Akaashi covered his face.

“You’re about to cry over onigiri! You have a problem!”

“It could be worse. I could be addicted to drugs. Or saying “hey hey hey” too much.”

“HEY.”

Then Akaashi was laughing, so of course Bokuto ended up laughing too. They trailed off into comfortable silence; the smile on Akaashi’s face was small, but fitting.

“Oooh, you want to know what else? I’m pretty sure Tsum-Tsum is going on a date tonight.”

He threw his head back and cackled at Akaashi’s dubious expression. “I know right! But seriously! I think he finally did it!”

Atsumu’s horrible, terrible, somehow endearing crush on Aran was getting a little out of hand, in Bokuto’s opinion. And after explaining the whole thing, Akaashi agreed. It was little things that most people who didn’t know Atsumu wouldn’t be able to tell, but Bokuto could.

Like how Atsumu’s face lit up differently when he texted Aran, and he complained about him differently too. It was...whinier. Not the way he complained about Osamu or Sakusa; when it came to Aran it was always, he goes around acting like he’s so mature and good at everything so annoying and Aran always texts me back but he’s not fast enough today and it’s getting on my nerves.

“I knocked on his door earlier, and when he opened he was dressed up a little, you know? Just a little. And he kept playing with his hair even though I told him he looked fine.” Bokuto grinned. “It was so adoooorable~.”

“I’m sure Atsumu-san would hate to hear you say that.”

“Ha! He would! But seriously, it was!”

Akaashi smiled thinly. “Do you,” he cleared his throat. “Have you been on any dates lately, Bokuto-san?”

Ha.

…Wait, what?

Bokuto’s brain stuttered. A very quick factory reset occurred. When he spluttered back to life, Akaashi was still watching him expectantly through the phone, face carefully blank.

“Uh, no?” he heard himself say. “I haven’t really had time to date. Besides, everyone already thinks that I’m dating you.”

The ensuing silence was lethal. It made his ears itch. Akaashi was making a peculiar face, one that Bokuto couldn’t understand.

“That’s--” Akaashi seemed to lose his grip on his phone; the camera view drifted slightly off to the right, showing more of the ceiling and a hint of a slightly reddened ear. 

“Funny, right?" Bokuto barreled on. "I don’t know why everyone thinks that, but it was a whole thing! Anyways, I’m too busy with volleyball for that.” Not a lie.

“Plus, I don’t think anyone really wants to date me,” he added, and that too, wasn’t a lie. “I’m...a lot better now, I think. I try really hard. But sometimes it’s still a total mess in here-" he gestured to his head - “you know? I don’t think anyone’s really interested in dating someone with all that, uh, baggage.”

The camera adjusted again, showing all of Akaashi’s face once again. His expression was different now. Somewhere between frustrated and concerned.

“Bokuto-san…do you….do you really believe that?”

“It’s honest,” he said simply. “You know I’m not very good at lying, ‘Kaashi.”

“But –”

“Ah, ah, I’m not listening,” Bokuto sang. He didn’t want to talk about it, seriously; there was no point dwelling on it, and he didn’t want Akaashi to get worked up about something so unimportant right now. He thought about flipping the question around, but his stomach swooped low at the thought of hearing about Akaashi’s love life. Which was silly; this was his best friend, and he was interested in all aspects of his life.

Bokuto pried apart his clenched teeth. “What about you, then?” he heard himself ask, somewhat alarmed at how tight and distant his own voice sounded. He hoped Akaashi didn’t notice.

If he did, Akaashi showed no signs of it. “I suppose I’m not much better. I...haven’t had much time for anything besides work.” He counted on his fingers, “I talk to my coworkers and my seniors, my mother, and you. That’s about all I have time for.”

For some reason, that made Bokuto feel like someone had knocked the air out of his lungs. He wanted to lean into it, like a puppy, and pry out more from Akaashi -- me? Me? Really, me?

He didn’t.

That would be childish and burdensome and it would make the feeling in his chest absolutely erupt. His brain panicked, searching for anything to say, and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Kazuchan finally got together with that girl she posted on her Instagram!” And then he winced at the abrupt change in subject.

“Oh, good for her,” Akaashi said, riding with it, like he always did. It was nice to have someone who would pivot alongside him. They were always on the same page, no matter how scattered the words were. “Have you met her yet?”

“Kinda, just on facetime, but not like, really met her. Hopefully I get to meet her in person soon, though! I wonder if she’ll bring her to Renho’s wedding?”

They talked about the wedding -- about how horrendous planning events were, about what kind of cake Bokuto would like to eat, and then Bokuto reminded Akaashi to eat dinner, to get some rest, and bid him goodbye.

It was late by the time they ended the call. For a moment, Bokuto wondered what it would be like there was someone else he had to divert his attention too; a pretty girl who would hang over his shoulders, or a handsome guy who would drag him by the waist and claim Bokuto’s time as his own. Not Akaashi’s.

To be honest, he didn’t like the thought very much. It reminded him of the people he’d dated in college. They had all drifted in and out so quickly, blending together; unimportant faces in his memory that lingered just long enough to decide to reject him.

Akaashi’s face was bright and fresh in his memory. Endless snippets of his small expressions, his soft smiles, his furrowed brows.

I talk to my coworkers and my seniors, my mother, and you. That’s about all I have time for.

Bokuto carried on his nightly routine, unable to stop Akaashi’s words from rattling around in his brain, over and over again.

#######

Bokuto had a brilliant plan.

“You should come spend the weekend in Osaka after your project ends!” he said, beaming at his phone screen. He was still sweaty from practice, making the video call in the quietest place in the locker rooms he could find. It had occurred to him between drills and he was too excited to wait even a moment longer before sharing it.

Akaashi blinked owlishly. The fluorescent lights from his office shone brightly. “Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly. “I don’t want to add to your plate.”

“Whaaaaat? Of course I’m sure! I love hosting you, you know that,” Bokuto laughed. “And I haven’t gotten the chance to in so long. And we’re behind a visit! I promise I’d make it super calm and relaxing for you!”

The corner of Akaashi’s mouth tilted up. “You? Calm?”

“I can be calm, Kaaaaashiiiii,” Bokuto whined. “You deserve to get some time away from Tokyo after the project from hell. I’ll take care of everything, so all you have to do is chill out.”

“That’s a lot to ask of me,” Akaashi said, somewhat self-consciously. “At this point I feel like I’m physically incapable of chilling out.”

“All the more reason why this is a great idea!”

“....Okay,” Akaashi said. His tone sounded happy, even though his face didn’t change too much. But Bokuto just knew. “You convinced me. Not that it was hard to – I do miss you, after all.”

He felt his heart swell in his chest. Akaashi, for all of his reserved nature, could be rather blunt – including when it came to his feelings. Sometimes Bokuto wondered what he did to be entrusted with such honesty.

For now, the excitement made him grip his phone with both hands, energy surging through him. “I miss you too!” he said, and right away knew it was a little too loud – but didn’t really care. “I’m putting it in my calendar right now. This is going to be awesome! I can’t wait!”

Akaashi smiled, for real this time, though it was still small. “Neither can I. I have to go now, I’ll talk to you later.”

After hanging up, Bokuto couldn’t stop beaming. He was finally going to see Akaashi!

“Oh, Bo, you look happy,” said Inunaki. He was smirking – why was he always smirking?

Bokuto yanked his shirt off in one swift motion. “I’m always happy, Wan-san.”

“Quit calling me that. I’m not Atsumu, I don’t want a nickname.”

Atsumu– who was nowhere in sight, but clearly within earshot roared, “YOU SOUND JEALOUS, WAN-SAN.”

Inunaki chose to ignore him. Instead, he tapped his chin on his finger. “You know, now that you mention it, how come Akaashi-san doesn’t get a nickname?”

“Huh??”

“I mean, you clearly love them. And you clearly love…” he made a terrible face that Bokuto couldn’t read for the life of him. “...talking to Akaashi-san. Put two and two together…”

“Akaashi-san would hate that,” Hinata piped up. Miracle child. He said exactly what Bokuto had been thinking. He was toweling off his hair, one hanging around his hips. “He’s known Bokuto-san for like, seven years and still calls him ‘Bokuto-san’.”

“So do you?”

“But I’m not–” Hinata immediately shut up, shooting a harsh look at Inunaki. “It’s different, I mean.”

Bokuto was thinking hard. He did like nicknames – not for everyone though, and certainly not for Akaashi. He would kill him. One time he’d tested out a tentative Kei-Kei and was nearly suplexed for it – Akaashi could be fast when he wanted to. The fact that he got away with “Kaashi” was nothing short of a miracle.

“Yeah, Akaashi would probably plot my death if I gave him a nickname. He’s kind of serious like that,” he admitted. “My sisters get away with it though.”

“Your sisters?” Inexplicably, Sakusa –uninvited! – hailed the question. “Your sisters know him?”

“Duh! Akaashi is definitely their second favorite person ever, right after me.”

“My girlfriend has met my family too,” Inunaki said sagely.

Hinata laughed before quickly slapping a hand over his mouth. “Inunaki-san, you’re–”

“Hey!” Atsumu poked his head around the corner. “What’s this I hear about a girlfriend?”

“Shut up, Miya,” said Sakusa, turning his back to the conversation as he laced up his shoes. And, yeah, that was much more in-character. Bokuto still privately preened that he’d even shown any interest at all.

“I said, like, two words!”

“We weren’t talking about anyone’s girlfriend,” said Inunaki. “But we were talking about Bokuto’s ‘friend’, Akaashi.”

Bokuto frowned. “Why did you say “friend” like that?”

“He’s coming in January!”

“Oh, cool! We finally get to meet him.”

“You’ve already met him, Tsum-Tsum, he was my setter in high school,” Bokuto pointed out. “And besides, he came to our game when Hinata joined! He just had to leave the same night so he couldn’t hang around to chat much.”

“But he’ll be around for a whole weekend in January!” Bokuto lit up. “It’s gonna be great! I miss him so much!”

“I get it,” Inunaki said solemnly. “I miss my girlfriend too.”

Bokuto tilted his head at him. “Wan-san, it sounds like you need to talk about something. Is everything with your girlfriend going okay?”

Inunaki covered his face with his hands.

For some reason, Sakusa groaned loudly something that sounded like “he’s hopeless.”

Huh. Bokuto wondered who he was talking about – but the curiosity passed as he prepped for the showers, already planning out all the things he could plan for just one weekend.

#######

Time barreled until November arrived. The days in between were familiar and constant; Bokuto played volleyball; spent a great deal of his time joined at the hip with Atsumu and Hinata - and lately, miraculously! - Sakusa; he talked to the people he loved over the phone, and he counted down the days until his flight to Seoul.

When the time finally came, Bokuto could hardly contain his excitement. It didn’t help that when he blinked awake, the first thing on his phone was a notification from Akaashi.

From: Akaashi 7:05am

Safe flight, Bokuto-san. Send my congratulations to Renho-san

And regards to Kazue-san too, of course

He was floored. For one – Akaashi was the most notorious night owl he knew, which meant that a 7 am text from was a result of him staying up as opposed to waking up yet again.

From: Bokuto

AKAAAAASHI OF COURSE I WILL

They miss you so much!!

But not more than I do!

AND GET SOME SLEEP

He spent the morning texting excitedly with Kazue – who was in a similar boat, having to fly in from Shanghai – and his parents. He never got a reply from Akaashi, which was good because that meant he fell asleep.

To be honest, and there weren’t many people who knew this about him – but for Bokuto, there was never an itch within him to leave Japan; he liked it, he wanted to stay. He couldn’t quite figure out what pressed everyone around him to leave.

But that didn’t matter; all that mattered, really, was the amount of pure, unresisted joy he felt when he saw Kazue at the airport. They’d done everything they could to align their arrival times, and now the payoff was the greatest hug ever of all time just outside of airport security.

Bokuto felt like he was dreaming. He hadn’t seen Kazue in person for two years – the longest of any of his family, thanks in part to their rigorous training schedules. But here she was, all 173cm of her, squeezing him around the middle with a boisterous scream matching his own bubbling out beneath her face mask.

The hug lasted long – because Kazue, like him, understood the full feeling of being embraced and wasn’t in a rush to let go. But eventually they did, and Bokuto felt one step closer to…something. Something like peace. Peace-adjacent.

“Where’s Wei-san?” he asked, still beaming.

“She had to take a later flight, but she’ll be here in time for dinner,” Kazue was babbling as she hauled her suitcase off the carousel. “I can’t wait for everyone to meet her, she’s the fuckin’ cutest, and she’s hilarious and super pretty and she’s always talking about how much she wishes she could have a big family—”

Kazue rambled all the way to the taxi and hotel – a steady stream of commentary, compliments and praise, questions and breaks for Bokuto to jump in. It was seamless. It felt like coming home after a long, long time away. He and Kazue had always been a duo of mirroring personalities; like Kaasan, their emotions burned hot and bright and fast, like shooting stars arcing through life.

(Although Bokuto kept a little quieter than usual. Truthfully, he had gotten so used to hearing Kazue’s voice over the phone, it was nice to just listen.)

The day flew by in a whirlwind of last minute planning and partying. Bokuto met the other groomsmen – Luke’s twin (and best man), and his two best friends from childhood and college – and crushed Renho in a double-teamed hug with Kazue – and tourist endeavors throughout the city. It was rambunctious, to be surrounded by family. To not have to think about every action; nothing was measured, but he was careful. He was always careful.

His parents—and Wei— flew in that night and they all got dinner together. Bokuto pinched himself. He was squished between his sisters and Kazue’s girlfriend, with Luke and his parents on Renho’s other side. His family felt big, big enough to match him. He didn’t have to shrink himself down at all; he fit right in perfectly.

He made it about two bites into his rice before he realized that the feeling in his chest was peace. Really real peace. Something tangible, so solidly in place it felt like it had been there forever.

Compared to Kazue, Wei was tall – but still shorter than both of the remaining Bokuto siblings. Her hair was dyed blonde and she blushed easily, even as she kept up with Kazue’s boisterous energy. Her Japanese was also practically perfect.

“Koutaro-kun,” she said, doing a poor job of hiding the fact that she and Kazue were holding hands under the table, “Did Kazue tell you our goalie has a crush on you?”

Kazue immediately snorted into her drink, half-choking, half-laughing as she swatted at Wei. “I did but I told he’s – well he’s not taken, but he’s kind of taken. Ugh,  it’s…complicated?”

Bokuto blinked. “It is?” he said, lost. “I am?” 

He didn’t miss how Renho and Kazue shared a look. “Wei-san,” Renho interrupted, “I’m really happy you were able to make it. How’s your family?”

The conversation carried on, as both sets of parents started chatting and reminiscing and Renho leaned over to whisper something to her fiance. Luke tried to hide a laugh behind his hand, but his shoulders were shaking; Bokuto knew something was there, but Kazue kicked him under the table to get his attention before he could ponder on it more. 

“Ignore Wei,” she said quietly. “She’s just teasing.”

“I know!” Bokuto said brightly. “It’s all good, Wei is really nice. I’m glad she’s here! You two are cute. It’s kinda gross.”

“Oi,” Kazue said, offended, shoving at him with the hand not entwined with her girlfriend’s. “Buzz off. I’m going to give you so much shit when you bring….someone home.” 

She sat back, looking smug. Bokuto squinted at her – she had definitely hesitated there. He hated when Kazue tried to be mysterious and evasive.

“Nah,” he shrugged. He thought about his failures in relationships. Yeah, he wasn’t really in a rush to get kicked to the curb like he was trash on recycling day. “I’m good, I think.” 

“Kou, I know you think you’re Maturer-than-everyone-san, but you’re only 23. You don’t know as much about shit as you think you do.” Suddenly, Kazue’s teasing tone turned serious. “There’s nothing to be scared of, I promise.”

“I’m not scared. I’ve got volleyball,” Bokuto pointed out.

“And I’ve got soccer and Wei,” she responded, making a duh face at him. “What’s your point?”

Well, his point was – 

It was that –

Okay, maybe he didn’t really have a point. Maybe he hadn’t really considered the fact that volleyball wasn’t the sticking point

But he didn’t want to admit that, so instead he just stuck his tongue out at her, and Kazue just grinned back smugly.

#######

Renho and Luke opted out of a strict, traditional wedding – they wanted to keep things unique. But they also wanted it to be grand. At heart, even if she was quiet by nature, Renho was a Bokuto, and she lived for the spectacle. There were outfit changes. There was a tea ceremony. There were a lot of tears.

Bokuto cried no less than three times; especially as Renho came down the aisle, and for the first time he realized just how lucky Luke was. That was the girl who used to put bandaids on his scraped knees when he fell too many times outside. At some point since then, she’d grown up. Standing in his tuxedo, Bokuto realized…he had grown up too.

He should’ve recognized something was amiss, because as the tears streamed steadily down his cheeks, as he surveyed the room to observe his family weeping happily too, the only thought that came to mind was: I wish I could’ve brought Akaashi.

The after-party was boisterous to say the least. Kazue’s signature was written all over it – the venue, the music, the fact that the women were gifted comfy shoes to change into. And, of course, the freely-flowing alcohol.

Bokuto didn't drink often, in part because of volleyball, but also because he didn’t really like the after-feeling of having your brain squeezed from the inside out. But on special occasions, the hangover would be worth it.

So – he drank like a damn fish. And Kazue, despite her small stature, could hold her liquor to an almost scary degree.

The chaos of a drunk Koutaro-Kazue due was a sight to behold.

“ANEKIIIII,” Bokuto cried, fawning over his oldest sister, who still looked picture-perfect despite the long day. “YOU’RE MARRIED.”

“YOU’RE A WIFEEE,” Kazue butted in, equally as emotional. “YOU LOOK SO BEAUTIFUL!! I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!”

Renho was fighting back an amused smile. “Thank you very much! I love you both.”

“WE LOVE YOU MORE!”

“You’re so married,” Kazue continued, trying to pitch her voice quieter. “Holy shit. You’re the most married of all of us!”

“For now,” Renho winked, and then feigned confusion. “Where’s Wei-san again?”

Kazue immediately flushed red. “Shuuuut up, she’s getting another drink and I love her a lot, but shut upppppp.”

“Renho,” Bokuto said, suddenly serious. “I’m going to think about your vows and cry for the rest of my life.”

“Renhooo,” Kazue sobbed, “I want to be like you when I grow up!” 

“You have about 8 cm to go then.” 

“HEYYYY.” 

#######

That night, when Kazue deposited a drunk Bokuto back in his hotel room, things felt oddly familiar. They shared snacks together, sprawled out on Bokuto’s bed and giggling between words. 

The world was spinning, tilted on an axis, and Bokuto could not for the life of him get it to stop. “I’m never drinking againnnn, nee-chan,” he whined, cramming chips into his face. 

Kazue cackled. “You’re too young to talk like that! Now’s the time to get pli–plo– plastered . When you get older it’s not worth it.” 

“Ughhhh.”

“But you had fun, right?” 

“The most I’ve had in forever ,” Bokuto confirmed. “Forever ever.” 

He was quiet, chewing, and drinking the water Kazue handed to him.

“How come you’re not with Wei-chan?” 

Kazue just shrugged. “I get to be with Wei all the time,” she said, a little sad. “But I only get to be with my little brother every once in a while.” 

He blinked, and for a second he wasn’t in his rumpled tuxedo, nor was Kazue in her soft pink bridesmaid dress. Instead they were two kids with bandaged knees and missing teeth, sitting with their knees tucked under their chin and sharing fruit snacks. It felt like the summer – the rare opportunity of no looming responsibilities. Simply put: children, again.

And with that feeling, a pure, unselfconscious honesty. 

“I wish Akaashi was here,” he said, a little sadly. The same feeling was tugging at his chest as when Renho and Luke were giving their vows. His eyes went wide as he got an idea. “Hey hey hey – let’s call him!” 

Perhaps sober, Kazue would’ve pointed out that it was 3am. But she just echoed Bokuto’s excited cries as the video call rang.

Akaashi answered. The lights were still on in his apartment, meaning –

“Akaashiiii!”

“Hi Keiji-chan!”

Akaashi blinked. He looked…well, blurry wasn’t the word, but he was certainly out of focus. Maybe Bokuto was just having trouble not swaying. “Bokuton-san, it’s late.”

“Ah ah ah,” Kazue chimed in, “there’s two of us here, you gotta use first names, Keijiii.”

“Uh–”

“Kou-ta-ro,” Kazue chanted, “Kou-ta-ro! Kou-ta-ro!”

“Shhhhh,” Bokuto hissed at his sister. “Quit being so loud, you’re gonna wake up Akaashi!” He blinked at his phone. “Fuck, he’s awake, I told you!” 

Akaashi’s lips twitched – not the annoyed way, but the ‘trying not to smile’ way. “I was already awake,” he pointed out.

“Whyyy? It’s a Sunday night!” 

“Insomnia,” he said after a small pause. 

“Whaaa!? You?? Dude, I’ve seen you fall asleep standing on the train!” 

“You’d better not miss your flight tomorrow,” Akaashi scowled, turning the conversation on him. “Why are you calling me this late?”

“Because I miss you,” Bokuto said plaintively. He sighed, wistful. “I wish you came, you would’a loved it! A lot!! I love love, Akaashi.”

He didn’t hear Kazue’s sudden silence. He was too busy staring at Akaashi’s face, trying to will it into his focus. “I love love,” he said again. “Renho’s gonna be in love for the rest of her life, you should’ve seen her and Luke! Their vows were right out of a book, I swear!”

Akaashi said, “That sounds lovely.”

“And Wei-chan is the best and she and Kazuchan are gonna get super lady married one day I think.”

“OI!!!!” Kazue wailed. “Quit spreading rumors!” 

Bokuto cackled, then stopped to take a swaying swig of water. A solid amount of it ended up on his shirt; less actually made it into his mouth. “You don’ think anyone’s gonna wanna marry me too, huh Akaashi?” 

If he wasn’t so drunk he would’ve registered that the wide-eyed look Kazue was giving him was, at the very least, suspicious, but as it were – he simply slow-blinked at her and returned his focus to the Akaashi on his phone screen. 

“Bo - Kou -“ Akaashi tripped over his words. “Kazue-san please talk some sense into your brother.” 

“I know I look like a goddess, Kei-chan, but I am not a miracle worker.” 

“I’m full of sense!” Bokuto squawked. “Also full of baggage. Like a plane!!” 

Kazue snorted loudly, dissolving into giggles. Bokuto crumped next to her, laughing too hard to sit up straight. 

“I’m jus’ saying,” Bokuto tried, slightly out of breath. “Wait what was I saying? Oh, yeah - it would be kind of cool if someone did want to marry me? You’d come to that wedding, right, Kaashi??”

“....I would,” Akaashi said haltingly. And then, “Bokuto-san, I think you need to go to sleep.” 

“WHAT! But I’m awake!! Totally awake!” 

Bokuto had in fact nearly fallen asleep sitting up, but that wasn’t important. 

“Okay, big guy, Keiji’s right,” Kazue said, surprisingly subdued.  She stood up suddenly, swaying on her feet. “I’m gonna head to my room. Goodnight, and don’t stay up too late, okay?” 

She was gone before Bokuto could really process the words. 

“Akaashi,” he frowned, “you called me Bokuto-san anyways.” 

“It’s…habit.” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead pressed his lips together tightly. 

“Booooo,” Bokuto hissed. “So distant. Sucks.” 

Akaashi started worrying at his fingers, but he didn’t say anything. 

“Hey,” Bokuto said, around a yawn. He was sinking back into the bed. “Stay up with me? I don’t wanna hang up.” 

“You need to sleep,” Akaashi said reasonably. 

“So do you,” Bokuto said shot back. “…but don’ sleep yet, I wanna keep talkin’ to you,” he added after a pause. 

“I wish you were here for real, Akaashi,” he said quietly, the words slipping into mumbles as his eyes drifted shut. “You would’a loved it, I’m tellin’ ya…” 

“I know,” Akaashi said, just as softly. “I….wish I was there too.” 

“Twoooo more months,” Bokuto said, with the very last bits of his energy. 

And Akaashi smiled, tiredly, but a smile nonetheless. “Two more months,” he said back, reverently. 

Bokuto fell asleep, hand clutching his phone.

#######

Kaasan and Tousan saw him, Kazue and Wei off at the airport. Bokuto didn’t want to dwell on the goodbye, because he would cry on the plane if he did and give himself a headache. But it was a different kind of hurt, saying goodbye to his sister and his parents again. The time they’d shared felt so short, fleeting. He blinked and it was gone.

Kazue went back to being 1300 kilometers away. Renho went on her honeymoon with her new husband. His parents stayed behind to help the new couple adjust and take care of their home while they went off on their honeymoon. 

Bokuto returned to his life in Osaka. Things went back to normal quickly. 

He ticked off days on the calendar. Kuroo and Akaashi’s birthdays came and went, as did the first month of Renho being the most married Bokuto sibling. Christmas came – Bokuto made it home for the week. Akaashi, his mom and grandma went to Kyoto to stay with his aunt, so Bokuto caught up with Konoha and the other Fukurodani alumnus instead.

From: Bokuto

10 more days!!

From: Akaashi

Hopefully my seniors don’t kill me before then, but if they do, tell Udai to give me his fucking drafts on time

He played volleyball. He ate, bathed, and breathed volleyball. He went to Atusmu or Hinata’s places more often than not; but nights alone in his apartment felt different in a way he didn’t like. He’d spent so much time crafting his apartment to be a place of comfort, a place he could relax in. He kept it clean and tidy, he kept his schedules regulated, he was so careful careful careful all the time– but it was empty!

It was so lonely, being in his apartment with just his thoughts. Something felt different within himself. Different in a bad way, in a huge way, in a ‘bigger feelings than he can truly handle’ way.

So. The truth.

The truth was, after Bokuto had left Seoul he spent the plane ride reflecting on his sister's wedding reception and the call he made to his best friend in the middle of the night to wax poetic about wedding vows. He didn’t really remember the entire conversation, but he remembered the feeling. The reason why he’d called Akaashi in the first place.

For the first time in two years, Bokuto had been surrounded by his family – the hole in his heart left behind by his sisters and parents felt full at last, but, but something else was missing.

Because all he could think, despite everything, was that he missed Akaashi. 

Akaashi Keiji. His best friend, who he was platonically attached to. Except, it certainly wasn’t platonic in any way to picture how Akaashi would’ve liked the ceremony, or think about how Akaashi would write his own wedding vows, or think about how it always came back to Akaashi somehow.

Well, not somehow. This wasn’t a mystery. Bokuto wasn’t so dumb as to misunderstand this – well, maybe he was, just a little bit, but not because he couldn’t recognize what was staring him in the face. More-so because he had fought it for so long and expected everyone else around him to believe it too. 

He felt 17 again, overwhelmed by his heart and unable to see straight. He had tunnel vision, and the only thing he could think about was Akaashi and his propensity for bedhead, which he still made attractive somehow; the way he smiled so gently it could be easy to miss unless you were hunting for those rare moments day after day; the way his heart felt ready to explode at the sound of “Bokuto-san..."  

This felt familiar. This felt like…like… 

Oh.

Oh!  

Oh NO!!

He would move past this. He had to, he made a promise. He was a Bokuto! Bokutos kept their promises!

It didn’t matter if the size of his crush had only swollen since he’d buried it in high school. There was no time like the present to swallow your big ugly romantic feelings whole and never let it see the light of day.

And this was how Bokuto’s nights played out: arriving home from practice or errands or hanging out or whatever method he was using to distract himself. He would pretend for as long as he could until the time came to actually go to bed, and then he would lay awake, mind racing with thoughts and feelings and emotions he hadn’t confronted since he was in high school. 

He felt like he was going to burst. 

After agonizing through a fitful sleep, Bokuto woke up almost fifteen minutes late, which was not a good sign. He had to cut his morning routine slightly short as a result, exchanging his smoothie for a protein bar instead, and foregoing his morning meditation completely. He still played his morning playlist, but Atsumu texted that he had already left for practice, which meant Boktuo was going to have to take the train alone. 

It was freezing, and he was shivering despite his many layers. The train ride was incredibly bumpy and uncomfortable Bokuto rubbed sleep out of his eyes and tried not to think too hard about how everything just felt slightly off. A bad omen, really. 

As he ran into the training center, he realized he forgot his compression knee pads, meaning he would have to use his backups, and those kind of itched because he kept forgetting to replace them with a better brand. 

He made it just in time to have to warm up by himself, bursting with apologies. “Sorry! Sorry – it won’t happen again, I swear!” 

“Just don’t skimp on your warmups,” Coach Foster told him sternly. 

By the time they were set up for serve-receive drills, Bokuto felt like he was going to vibrate out of his own skin. The knee pads itched so much and he couldn’t stop adjusting them. His eyes were dry. And if he wasn’t vigilant, his mind would unhelpfully remind him that he had recently discovered he was in love a.k.a unknown territory a.k.a terrifying and directly breaking his promise. 

Barnes served; Sakusa dug it up for Kuboyama to set down the middle to Tomas. Bokuto, Atsumu and Meian enclosed on him for a bunch block, except as he was going up, Bokuto remembered that his knee pads itched and everything was so bright – and the ball bounced harshly off his widespread arms and out of bounds.

“Bo?”

Bokuto blinked, slowly. Turning his head, he saw Inumaki giving him a weird look. “Earth to Bokuto,” he said. “Tighten up your block, I can’t see the net when your arms are too far out.” 

“Right, sorry, Wan-san.” 

Losing himself in the middle of practice was not an option. Bokuto shook out his shoulders, recentering himself as he they rotated to the back row. His head felt like lead, heavy from lack of sleep, but volleyball always gave him energy and that wasn’t about to stop now. 

Coach blew the whistle. Hinata sent off a heavy-handed jump serve on the other side of the net; Inumaki picked it up and Bokuto set himself up for a pipe shot. Shifted his feet, adjusted his angle for the run up, didn’t think about the rock sitting on the bottom of his stomach – 

“Bokkun!” Atsumu set him up nicely, up high and just over the attack line the way he liked. 

The moment he jumped, Bokuto knew it was off. His timing was wrong, and he twisted in the air as best as he could to make up for it. As a result, he lost his balance completely and barely grazed the ball with his fingertips – a pathetic tap that fell to the ground long before reaching the net. 

“Shit!” he said as he went down. It was nothing short of a miracle that he didn’t fuck up his ankles on the landing, just rolled forward to absorb the impact on his knees, and stayed there for just a second.

Why is this happening? 

“--kuto, are you good, man?” Meian was saying, leaning down above him. 

Bokuto looked up at his captain and nodded. He got up quickly, before Meian could lend a hand to help him. “I’m okay!” he said in a rush. “Sorry, that probably looked way worse than it actually was. I’m good!!” 

Something about Meian’s expression made Bokuto look away; it was disbelieving, and if he looked any harder he would see the remnants of the expressions on people’s faces from when he was in high school. Disappointment, irritation, here we go again, Bokuto’s emo-mode is back … 

His stomach sank, and he clenched his fists to distract himself. “Let’s run that again,” he said, firmly. “Sorry about flubbing that set Tsum-Tsum, gimme another and I’ll–”

“Don’t waste my sets, Bokkun,” Atusmu shot back sharply. 

He faltered, for a second, spinning to look at Atsumu. “I didn’t mean–”

“Yeah, yeah, save the apologies and just put that shit away the way I know you can.” 

Meian watched the exchange, his expression getting more and more unhappy. “Ease off, Miya. Bo, you’re looking a little green, you sure you’re good?” 

“I swear,” he said, nodding his head enthusiastically.

“Okay,” Meian said. “Let’s run it again. You say something if you need a break though, yeah?”

Bokuto did not say he needed a break, because he was not a baby; he was grown enough to be able to handle himself. So he ignored the looks of concern from his teammates and the swelling, twisting, horrible wrench in his gut and doubled down his focus as they reset for another serve-receive drill. 

Hinata served again; it hung right, veering toward him and Bokuto reacted a split second too late. 

His bump went wide, far off from Atsumu’s awaiting hands, and his first thought was Quit fucking this up.

Fuck up, fuck up, fuck up—

His hand immediately went to his forehead, the sting of his palm smacking against it startling enough to distract from his spiral of thoughts, at least for a moment.

“Bokuto, take five,” Meian said, voice cutting through the noise building in Bokuto’s head.

“I said I’m good,” he tried.

You’re fucking up, his brain said. You’re fucking up, and everyone is sick of it.

“I know,” Meian said, crossing his arms. “But to be honest, you look like you're about five seconds away from throwing up on my shoes.”

“I’m just,” Bokuto said by way of explanation. He couldn’t come up with the words, not through all the noise and the heaviness of his head, so he just waved his hand around. “You know.”

“Bokuto, this isn’t a fight you’re about to win,” Coach Foster said from the sidelines. “Meian’s got a hard head about this stuff.”

Humiliation built up in Bokuto’s chest as he let Coach walk him off the court. “I’m fine,” he said again, even as one of the trainers was shoving water into his hands.

“I hate to say it, but Meian’s right. You don’t look well,” Coach said. “I wouldn’t bullshit you, you know this.”

Bokuto didn’t say anything.

Coach sighed. “I’m not trying to be a jerk, I’m just telling you I think you’re testing your limits a little too far.”

He’s sick of you. They're all sick of you.

Bokuto wanted to say something, but at that moment his stomach seized and he made an extraordinarily speedy beeline to the trash cans instead, where he proceeded to vomit everything he’d eaten until he felt light-headed. 

He could hear – 

“Shit, Meian, you were right–” 

“How the fuck did he go from 120% to projectile vomiting–” 

“Bokkun what the hell–” 

Bokuto stopped listening. He felt like death warmed over. Vomiting had given him a splitting headache and burned his throat, and even with the cold water he felt too warm, and the lights were too bright, and he kept replaying the flubbed spike in his head – 

“Bokuto,” Meian’s voice, gentle but urgent, “you gotta breathe, man.” 

Oh. Was he hyperventilating? When did that start? 

It took a few tries but he slowed his breathing down, took another swig of water, and avoided the eyes of Meian and Foster crouching beside him. 

“How ya feeling?” 

“Bo, if you try to tell me you’re fine, I’m gonna blow a gasket,” Meian said. 

“Pretty awful,” Bokuto he admitted. 

“I thought as much,” Foster chuckled. “It’s virus season, so this isn’t too surprising. It gets at least one of you boys every year.” 

Bokuto slumped. “Sorry,” he said. He felt pretty shitty overall; his head was pounding and between his burning stomach and throat, he felt like he was on fire from the inside. But even still, the reasonable part of his brain was getting drowned out by the humiliation that wouldn't let go. 

“Get checked out by the trainers before you head home,” Foster said. “Miya and Hinata look like they’re gonna lay eggs, so I’ll have one of them make sure you get back alright.” 

“But–” 

“I’m not putting you on a train like this. MSBY can afford a measly Uber, okay?” Foster held out his fist. “Good work today, hot shot. Take it easy and we’ll see you when you’re feeling better.”

“Coach–” 

“Bo, it’s alright,” said Meian. “You’re a good kid, you know that? But there’s no use in running yourself into the ground. Rest up and take your time.” 

He turned over his shoulder. “Miya, Hinata – help Bokuto to the trainers, and then call an uber and ride home with him. Yeah, you can take off practice early, but I expect to see you two at 9am sharp for conditioning tomorrow…” 

Things went by in a blur after that; Bokuto could feel himself get sandwiched between Atsumu and Hinata as they helped him to the trainers. The trainer got him a face mask, some gatorade and over the counter medicine, and echoed Foster’s concerns about virus season. Bokuto did his best not to dry-heave in the Uber, and whenever he tried to speak Atsumu hit him with a withering look that shut him up quickly. 

Hinata was radiating the same concerned energy, but at least he was nicer about it. “I got really sick at nationals in first year,” he said. “It was awful. So don’t worry, Bokuto-san, I get it.” 

“‘M sorry–” 

“Bokkun,” Atsumu said severely, “if you even think about apologizing right now I’m gonna knock the gray out of your hair.” 

Bokuto decided to stay silent until they got to his apartment. 

Hinata had gathered his stuff from the locker room, and fished around for his keys to open the door. He and Atsumu took off their shoes, then helped Bokuto out of his and had him set up on the couch with water, a blanket, and a gatorade in record time. 

“I’m going to get some soup delivered,” Hinata said. “Nothing too heavy, but we gotta make sure you can eat something.” 

“Get some anti-nausea and cold medicine too,” Atsumu bit out. 

“I don’t think I’m gonna throw up again,” Bokuto said. 

“I didn’t ask.” 

“Tsum-tsum,” Bokuto whined, “I already feel like shit, you don’t have to be such a dick about it.” 

“Actually, I think I do,” Atsumu said, his voice pitched. Hinata looked up in alarm. But it was too late, Atsumu had gotten started, “Cuz for some reason, you don’t know wanna take care of yourself, so now we’re doing it for you.” 

Bokuto twisted his face up. “Tsumu, I’m sorry, I know I’m a pain, okay? I already know!” 

“The only thing that makes you a pain is keeping your mouth shut so tight you have to be physically removed from a gym before you admit something’s up. Why the fuck do you insist on hiding things from everyone until you snap? Friends take care of friends,” Atsumu spat. “And we’re friends, Bokkun. A-aren’t we?”

The falter in his voice made Bokuto’s anger disappear in an instant. He forgot, sometimes, that Atsumu’s prickly exterior was only to protect his soft underbelly. “Of course we’re friends,” he said, and then sniffled. 

Atsumu looked like he was torn between running away or cuddling closer. “Fuck yeah we are,” he huffed, as if he hadn’t just questioned it. “So stop being such a stubborn ass. We’re helping you through this, quit fuckin’ crying about it.” 

“You’re not a pain, Bokuto-san. Atsumu-san is just worried about you,” Hinata said. “I mean, we all are.” 

What Bokuto instinctively wanted to say was “I don’t need to be taken care of” but he was pretty sure Atsumu would jump across the couch and strangle him if he said that. So instead he just groaned softly and nuzzled deeper into the blanket. He felt too shitty to argue anyways. “Thanks,” he said quietly. Defeated. “I mean, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry.” 

“You wanna tell us what’s up now, or do I have to beat the info outta ya?” 

“Atsumu-san, you really gotta tone it down. Just a little,” Hinata scolded. But he was clearly trying not to laugh. 

Bokuto sniffled again, and a moment later Hinata was handing him a packet of tissues. It made his heart lurch. He was sitting on his couch, taking up space and his two great friends were doing everything they could to make sure he wasn’t going to wither away from them, he could stand to be a little more grateful for their efforts. 

“I just,” he started, hesitantly. “Haven’t been sleeping that well, is all. Nothing serious.” 

“Bokkun you are such a shitty liar, how many times do I have to tell you that?” 

Bokuto huffed. “It’s not serious,” he maintained. “But I guess it’s a little more than not sleeping well. It’s been….tough. Being alone. Since my sister’s wedding.” 

Atsumu and Hinata stayed silent, waiting. 

“I just – I finally got to see my family all together after like, two whole years, and it lasted a single weekend. And then this apartment is just so quiet and there’s so much space to think and–” He hesitated again. “...and then Akaashi.” 

Atusmu leaned forward. “Akaashi?”

Bokuto could feel his face warming up, and it wasn’t from a fever. He sank down, turning his head. “Things are different now. Maybe? I don’t know. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Hinata gave him a sad look.

Atsumu mostly just looked lost. He fidgeted around for a bit. “I didn’t realize,” he said finally. “Now I feel like a dick for pushing so hard.”

“You are a dick,” Bokuto pouted. “But it’s not your fault. I didn’t want to talk about it. But my brain knew, and I couldn’t get any sleep at all, and then I flubbed your set today and I felt really crummy. Um, not because I’m sick, but like, up here,“ he waved lazily at his head. “It’s a whole thing, but the routines help. I’m totally normal now, except for when I’m not.”

His two friends stared at him as if he started speaking Mandarin. “Bokkun,” Atsumu started hesitantly, “You…you’re not really normal.” 

“Hah!?” 

“I just mean – you’re you. You’re unique!” Atsumu turned to Hinata, panicked. “Help me out here!” 

Hinata drove an elbow into Atsumu’s ribs, shooting him an uncharacteristically severe look. “Bokuto, what do you mean by normal?” 

“Regular,” he said. “Capable. Steady. Dependable. Someone who isn’t gonna…fall apart just because things get tough.” 

Hinata tilted his head. “I don’t think all that stuff counts as ‘regular.’  Not everyone can be super capable and steady – but you’re already all those things, and that’s not really all that “normal.” Atsumu-san is right. You are really unique.” 

He blinked wide, heartfelt eyes. “If you were normal, you wouldn’t be you, Bokuto-san. I wouldn’t trade all the good, great, special things about you for anything.” 

Bokuto went quiet, processing the words. “You really think so?” 

“We both do. I’m just no good with words,” Atsumu reassured. “You’re a good guy, Bokkun. And I don’t just mean like, volleyball-good, I mean, like, good in all the ways that really mean something.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, looking supremely uncomfortable, but earnest. 

That pushed him over the edge. Bokuto was too tired, physical, emotionally, to even try to pretend to not be affected. “You guys are the best,” he said, sniffling pitifully. And because he couldn’t help it, he asked, “Does this mean you’re not mad I flubbed the set?” 

“I wasn’t mad you flubbed the set. I was mad that you were acting like everything was peachy-keen when it clearly wasn’t .”

“You don’t have to always be okay, Bokuto-san,” said Hinata. “You’re still a person, you know?” 

Funnily enough, at this exact moment Bokuto felt especially shitty – but he also hadn’t felt so human in a long, long time. “Yeah,” was all he managed to choke out. 

The dinner delivery came not too long after; all three of them hunched over his coffee table and ate together, Atsumu and Hinata chatting lightly to fill up the silence. They stayed until sunset, clearly reluctant to leave. Not that they really had a choice. They still had to go to practice the next day, after all.

“We’re here to talk whenever you need, Bokuto-san!” Hinata reminded him cheerily as he bid him goodbye. “And good luck with Akaashi – whatever it is, I think you two will be okay. I really do.” 

“You’re the best disciple ever,” Bokuto replied earnestly, and Hinata beamed. 

Atsumu lingered a while longer; he had only a few meters commute, and he was clearly still worried. “If even my shitty brother can pick up the phone every now and then, I’m sure your sisters wouldn’t mind talking to you,” he said seriously. “Being sick sucks. Being sad and sick sucks even more.” 

“Thanks, Tsum-Tsum,” Bokuto told him, and wrapped his blanket even tighter around him. “Hey – I’m glad we’re friends.” 

Atsumu smiled like a sunbeam peaking through rain clouds; rare, hopeful. “Me too.” 

Bokuto locked the door behind him and shuffled off to bed. 

From: Sakusa 

I’m only going to say this once: you already know how I feel about taking care of yourself. And you do a better job of that than most people I know. There’s no shame in a little rest. Feel better soon, Bokuto.  

He knew Omi-kun loved him; he made a mental note to give him a very heartfelt fist bump at their next practice. 

From: Bokuto 

Thank you Omi you are the BEST  

Despite how tired and sick he felt, Bokuto couldn’t sleep. It was awfully late, but his thoughts were still swirling and Atusmu’s parting words wouldn’t go away. 

With a burst of fervent energy, he pulled his phone close and called Renho before he could chicken out. He felt bad doing it, but he also felt crazy. Like if he didn’t talk about this right now it would burst forth from his chest, ugly and raw.

When Renho answered, she sounded tired, but awake. “Hello?”

“I’m sorry it’s so late,” he started, and then he couldn’t stop -- “And I’m sorry I lied, and I’m sorry I shut down when you wanted to talk about this last time you were here but I have felt really, really bad since your wedding and then today I got sick and Astumu and Hinata took care of me but they also got so fed up with – but that’s not really important right now. You were right, Renho, you were just trying to help me and I was such a dick about it--” 

“Whoa, Kou, what--” 

“I like Akaashi! Of course I like Akaashi,” he erupted. This was the first time he said it out loud.

He half expected the walls to start caving in or something, but the only thing that happened was that the dam within him broke. His locked box full of feelings imploded, and out came all its contents.

“I thought I was okay but I’m losing my mind,” he went on, voice catching. “I can’t – I can’t go through this again, I finally stopped being the world’s biggest burden, I can operate without Akaashi, really, I can – except maybe I can’t at all. I don't even want to -- a-and I know he doesn’t like me, and I just buried these feelings for the longest time because I thought I would go crazy if I didn’t, and I was right because I’m going super crazy right now.” 

His chest was starting to burn. “This is going to slip through my fingers, isn’t it? Be honest. Be really honest because I don’t think anything you say could hurt more than this.” 

She was quiet for several seconds, then sighed. “Kou,” she said warmly, “this isn’t going to slip through your fingers, okay?” 

He nodded, and then realized she couldn’t see him and squeaked out a pained “okay.” 

“Hang on - I'm calling Kazue too.” 

“But she has practice in the morning!” 

“So?” Renho’s unimpressed tone pierced through the line. “You need us right now. It won’t kill her.” 

Renho, like most times, was right - Kazue answered on the second ring, a little sleepy, but attentive. “Hey hey you two, what’s up?” 

Renho filled her in quickly and listening to it made Bokuto want to hide under the covers forever. 

“Oh,” Kazue said, the sleepiness in her voice replaced with concern. “Oh, man, I’m so sorry, big guy. This must feel enormous.”

It did. It felt so gigantic and overwhelming he was completely beside himself. 

Something about having both his sisters on the line in the middle of the night, knowing full well they had early morning schedules made his eyes burn. 

“I’m sorry this is so painful,” Renho agreed. “This is why I worry about you sometimes…” 

Kazue hummed. “I get that it’s just a natural defense or whatever, but stamping out your feelings isn’t going to make them go away.” She snorted. “Trust me, I tried! It just made me feel pretty shitty.” 

Understatement of the year. 

“I thought I was dealing with it,” Bokuto said quietly. “I thought I could just…not think about it, and eventually all my feelings would go away for good. But now that all came back to bite me and I got sick and I just feel like an even bigger burden than usual.”

Both of his sisters made twin noises of distaste, but it was Renho who found the words. “Kou, it’s really important to me that you understand that you are not, nor have you ever been a burden. The people in your life care for you because we all really, really love you,” she said.

Fuck – Bokuto’s heart swelled, and the tears threatened to spill over. “But – but I’m so–”

“So what, Koutarou?” she sounded serious. 

“So needy,” he spat out bitterly. “I know it, and I know everyone knows it, it’s the worst thing about me and I’m trying to be better, I swear–” 

“Needing people isn’t a bad thing! It’s human! It’s natural – would you say that I’m needy because I called you to complain about wedding planning? Or that Kazue is needy because she needed advice on how to ask out Wei?”

“Well, no, not really, but that’s different –” 

“It isn’t!” Renho said, gaining steam. “You can’t do everything on your own, and there’s no reason to! There’s nothing you could do to make any of us care about you any less. And Keiji-kun of all people is not going to complain about you needing him, Kou; that boy thinks the world of you and I’m pretty sure he’d start hanging stars up if you asked him to.”

Heat rose to Bokuto’s cheeks. It’s both nice and awfully embarrassing to hear, especially from his sister of all people.

Renho’s voice softened. “I know this is overwhelming, but you will get through this, okay? You’re best friends. That counts for more than you realize.”

“Exactly, Renho, he’s my best friend and I promised him a bajillion years ago I would get over feeling this way about him–” 

“Wait –” Renho interrupted. “I married Luke because above everything else, he is absolutely my best friend. I wasn't scared about feeling this way about him. I mean, sure, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but it's made our relationship a thousand times stronger.” 

“Wei was my best friend on the team too,” Kazue pointed out. 

“Exactly! It’s not an either-or situation.” 

“But I promised —“

“Bokuto Koutaro, listen to me very carefully,” Kazue said sternly. “Fuck the excuse you’re about to make. Feelings are scary, especially big ones, but you’ve come so far and I really, really think you can face them.No more buts, no more ‘what-ifs’ – you like Keiji, and that’s wonderful! It’s not a bad thing, no matter how much your brain tries to tell you it is. You can either push through the fear and get something great out of it, or you can keep literally making yourself sick with worry and bitch about it for the rest of your life. Which one do you think will suck less?”

“I - “ he sniffled, “The first one.”

“Fuck yeah the first one,” Kazue said. “I know things didn’t go how you wanted to in high school but it’s been a while. Both of you have grown, yet somehow, you’re still closer than ever. I vote you tell him how you feel. I think he might surprise you.”

“Tell him, Kou,” Renho echoed, voice gentle as ever. “We’re both rooting for you two.”

Feelings stuck themselves inside his throat. “Okay,” he choked out. “I’ll…think about it.” Picturing confessing feelings to Akaashi made him feel like passing out – but that was fine. He could do it. Maybe. “Oh my god, I think I’m gonna be sick again. 

“Sooooo dramatic,” Kazue said, but it sounded like she was smiling. Bokuto tried to smile himself, though it was forced. He felt a little wrung. 

“Try to get some rest. You can do something about it tomorrow, but if you don’t sleep you’re just going to feel even worse,” said Renho. “And make sure you take the medicine your teammates got you! Honestly, they sound like such sweet boys — you have some great friends.”

“Yeah,” Bokuto let out a stuttering breath. “Yeah, I do.” 

“I really do hope things work out between you two, but I’m still going to kick Keiji’s ass for this,” Kazue said. “All this heartbreak and he hasn’t even kissed you!! Waait, right? You two haven’t done anything before have you—“ 

The mental image that popped into his mind Bokuto burn bright red. “Please shut up.” 

“Sooo that’s a no?”

“Kazueeee,” Bokuto whined. “It’s obviously a no!”

She was laughing, and even though Bokuto kind of felt like his world was crumbling around him, it warmed his chest. Just enough to make the distance feel a little more bearable.

“Thanks,” he said again. And maybe it was the fact that the sickness was messing with him, but he added – “I miss you guys so much.” 

“Of course we miss you too,” Renho said.

The line went quiet for a moment – until Bokuto could hear a shaky, wet inhale that, for once, didn’t come from him. Neither of his sisters were particularly stoic, but it was still shocking to hear Kazue’s voice sound so broken; she was always so bubbly. 

His heart lurched when Kazue finally spoke, voice creaking. “Sorry, now I’m being a baby. It’s just that…No one warned me that being an adult meant that I’d live a billion kilos away from my whole family,” Kazue admitted, voice thick with tears. “I knew going pro wasn’t going to be easy, but it still gets to me sometimes. It’s been even worse since the wedding, to be honest.” 

Bokuto’s heart burst – at last, the tears exploded out of him, raining down his cheeks in hot, wet streaks. “It has! It’s been awful, I didn’t think it would be this bad still, and then with the whole Akaashi thing I’ve felt like ass lately. I miss you guys! I want things to go back to the way they were when we were kids.” 

To his surprise, Renho sniffled on the other end of the line. “Sometimes, I do too.” 

“Wait, really? But you’re whole life is so perfect now, Renho – you’ve got Luke and your residency and –”

“I’m happy, don’t misunderstand, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss what life used to be like.” Renho let out a breathy laugh. “I’m 30 years old, of course sometimes all I want to do is turn back the clock when my biggest concern was how many hours I could spent on the playground.” 

“Oh,” Bokuto breathed out, wiping away his tears with the heel of his hand. “Right.” 

Kazue let out a rip of laughter. “Nee-chan, do you remember that time in high school when Kou and I totally wrecked that electricity model you made?”

Bokuto felt a smile growing on his face. “I thought you were going to kill us,” he said, laughing. “Seriously, I’ve never seen you that angry in my life.” 

“Of course I remember – you two were such pests,” Renho said. “My physics sensei never believed me when I told her my siblings broke my homework.” 

“You almost tackled Kaasan trying to get to me,” Kazue said through peals of laughter. “And then Tousan tried to get between us–” 

“And Kou ended up flipping that tray of cookies on the counter–” 

“And it totally nailed Tousan in the head!” Bokuto interrupted. He couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling through him, and the three of of them dissolved into a fit of joy so strong they couldn’t breathe for several minutes. 

This wasn’t really how he expected to spend his night. It was almost 2 am – and he was laughing so hard with his sisters, they were all in tears. 

“Thanks, guys,” he said as he caught his breath, feeling significantly less miserable. “Sorry for making you cry in the middle of the night. And for being such a mess.” 

“We’re all a mess sometimes,” Renho said warmly. “We love you, okay? And I mean it– you’re doing great. I’m really, really proud of you. Feel better soon.” 

“Sweet dreams, Kouchan! I’m gonna kick the ball hard as fuck tomorrow and pretend it’s Keiji’s face, just for you..” 

That startled a laugh out of him. “Th-thanks. I love you guys too. Goodnight.” 

For the first time in several days, Bokuto gave in to his exhaustion, falling asleep within minutes of his head touching the pillow.

#######

Bokuto woke up to his phone ringing. He blinked blearily as he answered the call, not even checking the caller ID. “Hello?” he croaked.

 “Bo,” said Kuroo’s voice. “Oh, wow, were you sleeping?”

“Sort of,” Bokuto huffed, sitting up and rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“It’s almost 11, you never sleep in this late.”

“Ah,” Bokuto hummed. “Yeah. I didn’t even realize…”

“Are…are you okay?”

“Just a little under the weather,” he said, trying to sound cheery around a yawn. “I kind of, um, had a rough day and got sick at practice yesterday so coach gave me a couple days off.”

“Oh?” 

“And then I stayed up talking to Renho and Kazue until late and maybe cried a lot?” He winced. “...It was a long night.”

“Bo, what the hell!? Did something happen?”

“It’s….kind of a long story,” Bokuto said around a sigh. 

“Why don’t you tell me over lunch,” Kuroo said. “I’m in town today, so I’ll come by. Don’t worry about getting anything, I’ll bring the food. But I think we should talk.” 

Bokuto slumped into his sheets. “...do we have to?” He coughed pitifully. “I’m still sick, so maybe you should stay away.”

“Bo…” 

“Ugh, you’re such a worrywart. Fine. Just, call me when you get here. I’m gonna go back to sleep.” 

For once, Bokuto wasn’t lying; after Kuroo hung up, he flopped over and fell back asleep. This time though, he did dream; of Fukurodani, of volleyball, of the summer before his third year. 

When he woke up the second time, his mouth felt like chalk. The sun was streaming through the curtains and shining right into his eyes. He felt more rested, but overall still pretty shitty. He wanted to be at practice, but getting out of bed was a struggle on its own; he was so sluggish, the congestion made his head feel so heavy. At least the nausea had run its course. 

It was almost noon. Shit, he’d practically slept the day away. He shuffled to the bathroom and tried to pull himself together; brushed his teeth, washed his face, stared at his hair and ultimately decided against trying to gel it up, and as he caught his own gaze in the mirror he thought Akaashi is going to see me like this next weekend. 

He dropped his head into his hands. What the fuck was he going to do? 

He didn’t feel hungry but he wanted the distraction of focusing on literally anything else besides the twisting feelings in his gut, so he shuffled to the kitchen and made a smoothie. Carefully, he chopped up fruits and poured in juice. Flicked the blender on and listened to the cacophonous sound – it felt more calm than listening to his racing thoughts.

He wanted to do his morning routine, but he couldn’t muster up the energy. It just…too much right now, no matter how familiar things felt. He just wanted to suck on his smoothie and wallow for a little bit, so he tried – he sat down on the couch and flicked on the TV, surfing channels in an attempt to numb his brain completely, but – 

He couldn’t stop thinking! It was like his brain was on fast-forward, racing through thoughts as fast as possible. Combined with the overal malaise of feeling sick, he thought his skull was going to burst from pressure.

He knew what his sisters – and Atsumu and Hinata– had said, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being so troublesome to everyone. It was like high school all over again. Everyone felt like they had to give him attention to placate him, otherwise Bokuto was going to spiral out of control like some child, and they would have to pick up the pieces. 

And – how the fuck was he supposed to confess to Akaashi! He didn’t want to get rejected for a second time; he didn’t think his heart could recover from that. 

Ugh. The TV wasn’t working. He didn’t care if he felt like shit, Bokuto had to preoccupy himself. 

Which was why he decided to deep clean his apartment. He put on his morning playlist as loud as he felt like he could without disturbing his neighbors. Threw his sweaty bedsheets in the wash, busted out the vacuum and mop, sprayed down the counters – and that was how Kuroo found him when he arrived around 1. Bokuto was so caught up in folding the cleaned sheets he didn’t even hear the doorbell. 

“Oi!” Kuroo started banging on the door. “Bo, open up already!” 

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, flinging the door open. “Hey, hey, hey! I was just getting some cleaning done.” He immediately focused on the food in Kuroo’s hands, taking the bags and spinning on his heel to the kitchen. “Thanks for bringing lunch, you didn’t have to! I could’ve cooked.” 

“Bo,” said Kuroo, a little overwhelmed by the flurry of movement. 

“Why’re you in Osaka anyways? I thought you weren’t coming until next month!” 

“Last minute meeting got scheduled for this morning,” Kuroo said dismissively, toeing off his shoes and following Bokuto inside. “Wow, this place is spotless, dude.”

“Yeah it was getting dirty, so I cleaned after I finally got up.”

“Really? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I slept all morning,” Bokuto whined. “If I sleep anymore I’m gonna fuse into my bed.”

Kuroo raised one single, disbelieving eyebrow. “Uh huh,” he said, sliding into one of the barstools in the kitchen. 

Bokuto started bringing out plates and unpacking lunch. “We can eat up here if you want – or on the couch. I’m good either way.”

“Here’s fine,” said Kuroo.

“Cool!” The tension was thick, but Bokuto was going to ignore it. He’d spent the whole morning doing a lot of ignoring and he wasn’t about to stop now. “You want something to drink?” 

“Just water’s fine.” 

“You sure? I don’t really drink it much, but I have some sodas because Atsumu likes them and he’s over a lot so–” 

“Bokuto, what are you doing, man?” 

Bokuto stuttered, for just a second, nearly dropping the plate in his hand. “W-what do you mean?” 

“You’re acting like I’m about to take you to the guillotine,” Kuroo said, irritated. “You can relax. I’m not going to jump you.” 

Bokuto just blinked at him. 

“But I do think we should talk,” he added, watching his friend carefully. “I’m worried about you.” 

Bokuto looked at his toes. “Yeah,” he said sullenly. “Maybe we should talk.” 

Kuroo was gentle and kind and caring. For an instigator, he could be such a damn dad. “So …what’s going on with you, man?” 

Bokuto dished out the food onto plates. The stir-fry noodles first. Then the side dishes. Chopsticks for both of them. A water for him, and a water for Kuroo, and a Sprite just in case he changed his mind. 

And then…

And then there were no more distractions. There was nothing left for Bokuto to fuss with, nothing left to clean or set up. Just his friend and his…feelings. 

His stomach churned – and it wasn’t from hunger. Even looking at the food, Bokuto still didn’t have much of an appetite. 

He was so tired. He was tired from sleeping, he was tired from not sleeping, he was tired from cleaning and from being sick as hell. He was tired from seven years of repressing his emotions and then two consecutive days of dealing with the fallout of his choices. But mostly, he was tired of lying. 

So he spilled it all. He told him everything he’d said to Atsumu and Hinata; about his conversation wtih his sisters – all of it. This was Kuroo, after all, the guy who’d more or less bodily carried Bokuto to the finish line of getting his college degree. Honesty was the least he owed him. 

“And Akaashi’s coming next weekend,” he heard himself say. “...and I’m gonna tell him I’m in love with him. Again. You think I’ll be the first loser in history to pull off getting rejected twice by the same guy?”

Kuroo didn’t say anything; just silently reached over and smacked Bokuto lightly on the back of the neck. The bastard. 

“Okay, fine, sorry – I’m just freaked out! Like, I don’t know if I can go through with it after all,” Bokuto said with a groan. “Akaashi is just too important to me, and if he winds up hating me I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“I’m pretty sure Akaashi is physically incapable of hating you.” 

“You’re wrong,” Bokuto said. He wanted to be angry, but he was too tired. “He can totally hate me. Akaashi is so…he’s over thinks things a lot, but he doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean. He asked me to move on to preserve our friendship, and I didn’t, even though I promised him I would.” 

“Still not seeing where the hate comes in.” 

“He doesn’t feel the same way, and it’s going to make things so fucking awkward and I’m going to ruin our friendship and that’s the one thing neither of us wanted! ” 

“Huh,” Kuroo said, slumping his chin onto his elbow to rest. “I never noticed how really, really scared you were of being in love.” 

Bokuto froze. He felt his hands turn to fists. 

“So what if I am?” he shot back. The statement hung in the air for a moment. It was embarrassing how much this was frustrating him. “You saw me get dumped a trillion times in college – it sucked. There’s a long list of evidence that I just fuck up when it comes to love.” 

“Bro, those people didn’t love you. They were using you,” Kuroo said. 

Bokuto blinked. “Huh?” 

“Yeah man. Your type back then was ‘people who thought you were hot’ – which was pretty much anyone with eyes, but the ones you messed around with weren’t interested in all the good stuff in here,” Kuroo pointed to his chest. 

“My pecs?” 

“Your heart, you meathead. If any of them were worth anything they would’ve fought tooth and nail to keep you.” 

“Kuroo,” he said, feeling his breath stick in his chest, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me this back then?” 

“You didn’t want to talk about real shit back then, Bo. You were repressing the hell out of everything,” Kuroo pointed out.  

Bokuto tilted his head back and groaned again. He sniffled, wishing at the very least, he didn’t feel so damn sick while parsing through all of this. “This sucks. I suck.”

Kuroo hummed quietly, pressing his lips together. “You don’t suck,” he said at length. “You’re just going through something tough. Akaashi is really important to you, it makes sense why you’re scared. But I think you know you can’t chicken out of telling him how you feel.” 

Bokuto nodded, wiping at his nose. “You’re right. That sucks too, though.“ 

“You’re an optimistic guy, usually at least. Focus on the good thing,” Kuroo said. “I think what the two of you could have is worth a little risk.” 

“Maybe,” Bokuto said quietly. “But the issue is that this isn’t a little risk. It’s a big one. The biggest one.” 

“Big risk. Bigger reward,” Kuroo said, smiling. “If it’s any consolation to you at all – I think Akaashi already loves you a lot. The reason why people think you two are dating is because it’s all so…even.” 

“Huh?” 

“So reciprocal,” Kuroo elaborated. “You pour into Akaashi and he pours back into you. I get why you’re scared of losing him, I really do. It’s just that, from where I’m looking, I think you’d have to do a lot worse than loving Akaashi out loud to lose him.”

As if he didn’t just drop a metaphorical bomb in front of Bokuto’s feet, Kuroo picked up his chopsticks and started eating the stir-fry like everything was regular. Like Bokuto wasn’t being forced to rethink the last several months of his life in his overly cleaned kitchen, staring at the crystalline white counters. 

It was true, wasn’t it. Bokuto and Akaashi already showed a lot of love for each other. Akaashi never hated him, even though Bokuto gave him plenty of reasons to. 

The thought was almost scary–after all this time, was it really possible that Akaashi felt… 

Heat rose to his cheeks. Akaashi was pretty doting, the last few months of his project not withstanding. He remembered so much about Bokuto, he took care of him, and he’d been doing it for years. 

And Bokuto wasn’t quite as smart as Akaashi was about seemingly everything, but he did everything he could for Akaashi always, without hesitation, and the reason for that was pretty simple: it was Bokuto’s absolute pleasure to love Akaashi Keiji. 

Maybe this was a shared quicksand they were drowning in. And even if it wasn’t reciprocated, even if he couldn’t hide it, even if Akaashi took one look at him and knew right away that Bokuto’s heart belonged to him, and it had since he was 17 – that was scary, but it would be okay. Because it was Akaashi. 

Abruptly, Bokuto’s stomach growled. 

“You sound hungry, bro,” Kuroo pointed out, cheeks bulging. 

And at last, Bokuto beamed back at his friend. It was a real smile, one that felt easy on his face.

It was the best lunch ever.

#######

THE NEXT WEEKEND.

#######

Akaashi didn’t get taller, but the bags under his eyes were puffy and a little dark. Bokuto could tell even though his glasses were thick enough to distract from it. His hair was longer too, and unruly as always. 

He was beautiful. 

Bokuto was just a kid when he first realized how attractive Akaashi was. Since then he’d been surrounded by friends who were, for all intents and purposes, hot –  but no one ever sent goosebumps down his arms like Akaashi. He blinked several times behind his glasses, and then grinned.

“Hi, Bokuto-san.” 

Bokuto had discussed the concept of restraint with Kuroo. But he forgot about that entirely as he wrapped his arms about Akaashi’s middle and pulled him in close. “You’re here! I missed you so much!” 

Akaashi laughed lightly, patting Bokuto on the back. Sweet indulgence. “I missed you too, but you nearly elbowed that woman in the face just now.” 

“She’ll live!” 

“Bokuto….” 

“Sorry,” Bokuto said, and struggled to peel himself away. “It’s just – it’s been so long! You look…” 

Halfway through the sentence, Bokuto realized he was standing in the middle of the station with his arms around the boy he was in love with. The color drained from his face and he reared back, laughing overly loudly out of sheer discomfort. 

“I look?” Akaashi prompted. His face didn’t change– he just shuffled to put his scarf back on from where Bokuto had knocked it loose. 

Bokuto was going to say incredible, but then the alarm bells went off in his head and he said instead, “Really tired.” 

“Wow. Thanks.”

“And cold!” Bokuto added, as if that would make it better. “Let’s get back to my place so you can put your stuff down before dinner. I made reservations.”

#######

This was a mistake.

Bokuto was so not prepared to see Akaashi in his space. He wasn’t ready for his heart to seize – all he wanted to do as keep Akaashi in his home forever, keep him safe and close by, holding, touch, never let go – 

Akaashi gently put his roller bag next to the couch, assessing Bokuto’s apartment. “You cleaned,” he said. 

Bokuto flushed, trying to stop his thoughts from spiraling further. “I did!” 

Akaashi gave him a wary look. “You stress-cleaned?” 

Abort mission! How was Akaashi so good at that? Was it so obvious that Bokuto hid his emotions in cleaning of all things, what the hell. 

“It was a regular, normal amount of cleaning,” Bokuto frowned, turning his face to make his lie a little more believable. It was also a relief to not look directly at Akaashi. He didn’t realize it would be like this. Now that he had reconciled his feelings with himself, it was impossible to be certain of them; but the anxiety crept its way back, the doubt. What if….what if… 

“If something is stressing you out, you can talk to me about it,” Akaashi said, with a small frown. 

Usually he would be right. But right now he was the object of said stress. 

“Maybe later,” Bokuto promised, shifting his gaze. 

“Actually,” Akaashi said. He shifted into that tone – the one that Bokuto would like to describe as bitchy, but that was mean, so he refrained. Usually. “I think now is a good time. Kuroo stopped by recently, didn’t he?” 

“Whaaa? How did you know that?” 

“I know everything,” he said, and Bokuto seriously would’ve believed him. “But also, he posted it on his Instagram story.” 

Bokuto felt warmth beside him, too close, and when he looked up it was Akaashi. His expression was soft, open – unlike his typical sour-face. Fuck. His cheeks and nose were still ruddy from the cold, and his eyes were so piercing. He was beautiful, really. Too much. 

“I had a bad day at practice last week,” he admitted. “And then I got sick and Coach told me to take some days off, so Kuroo stopped by to make sure I was okay.” 

Akaashi’s eyebrows raised. “A bad day?” he repeated.

“A bad day,” Bokuto forced his eyes down and pointed absently at his head. “You know.” 

Embarrassment kept Bokuto from looking up to see the look on Akaashi’s face. He did know. He of all people was intimately acquainted with his meltdowns; it was always his sisters and Akaashi hosting him from the fallen edge, or soothing his emotions into a more tolerable rain storm. 

He wasn’t perfect. But, he was working on accepting that that was okay. 

“What’s been bothering you? I’d like to know.” 

“I’m not a baby, Akaashi,” Bokuto deflected on instinct, laughing uncomfortably. 

“No, you’re not,” Akaashi agreed. “But even still, you’re allowed to be upset about things.” 

“Um,” Bokuto said. “We really should make it to dinner, and I kind of don’t want to talk about it in public.”

He gave Akaashi a look that meant ‘I don’t want to get super emotional in public, that is SO embarassing dude.’ 

Akaashi returned it with a look of his own that meant ‘you’re not getting out of this so easy.’  

“Change it to a delivery order.” 

“Wha – seriously?” 

“Yes, seriously. That project took up so much of my time and energy, and you made sure to reassure me – but I didn’t return the gesture. So, forgive me for being late, but I’d like to know everything you’re thinking, please.” 

Bokuto had to shut his eyes tight – he was afraid that if he made eye contact his face was going to give him away. Because that was certainly love; he could feel it coating every word, and it was ridiculous how it made his stomach swoop. Was his heart fluttering? More importantly, when would Akaashi quit being so goddamn sweet to him? What on earth had he done to deserve this? 

“Akaashi,” Bokuto said, prying the words from his lips pressed tight. “You – you don’t have to apologize.” 

“I think I do. What are you going to do about it?”

Finally, he opened his eyes. Akaashi was looking at him with on eyebrow raised sharply, looking up, batting his lashes and –

Bokuto was going to break if this kept up. 

“I’m going to order dinner before I forget, you must be starving! This weekend is about taking care of you, after all. I got that wine you like too,” he rattled off quickly, taking several quick strides into the kitchen. “Why don’t you get comfortable and I’ll pour you some?”

“Bokuto–”

“What kind of udon do you want? I wanted to surprise you since it’s cold outside, but–”

“Why are you–” 

“Put your order in or I’m going to get you the spiciest option they have!” 

That won out, if only briefly. Akaashi looked irritated as he shucked his coat. He took Bokuto’s outstretched phone and tapped his dinner order in. His facial expression was still, but Bokuto could feel the anger in his movements. Uh oh. 

“I’m going to hang up my coat. Please pour us some wine.” 

Definitely angry. 

Bokuto poured Akaashi extra, secretly hoping maybe the heavy pour would make his best friend a little less scowly. 

Akaashi frowned into his glass, swirling the wine around until he finally sighed. “I really am sorry, Bokuto-san. I didn’t realize things had gotten this bad.” 

“Things are…bad?” 

“I’m not fragile,” Akaashi said, sharp. “I was stressed out, yes, but never so much that I wouldn’t want to know what’s going on with you. Whatever it is, it’s important enough to have affected volleyball. You stress- cleaned. You’re being so…cagey. I know something is the matter, why won’t you tell me what I did?” 

“What you – but you didn’t do anything?” 

“Oh? So you’re keeping whatever this is from me because it doesn’t involve me then?” 

Fuck. Akaashi could be a chessmaster, with the way he played several steps ahead. Bokuto watched him drink his wine. His mouth felt dry as a desert as warmth climbed up his cheeks. 

He ducked his head. “It does involve you,” he finally admitted, barely more than a mumble. “But not in the way you think. You didn’t do anything, Akaashi, I swear.” 

“Then why are you trying so hard to avoid the topic?” Akaashi countered. “I - I don’t want us to fight about this. You can tell me whatever it is. Really.” 

Bokuto flushed – it was so hard to not just word-vomit all his feelings all at once. “It’s…well, there’s something I gotta tell you but - it’s too embarrassing, I feel like I’m going to throw up if I say it.” 

“Embarrassing?” Akaashi peered at him over his glass, brows raised. Thrown off guard. Gorgeous . 

“So embarrassing,” Bokuto reiterated, putting his face in his hands. “Because, because we already did this once before, Akaashi. I know how this ends, I think. Or maybe I don’t. But I feel like I’m so obvious, I’ve been obvious, but at the same time saying it all out loud feels impossible.”

It was rare that Akaashi looked so thoroughly confused. “I don’t understand.” 

“Ugh, I – I broke my promise!” 

Bokuto flung his hands out and promptly knocked over his glass. Red wine spilled everywhere, glass shattering as it hit the floor. And, just like the glass, Bokuto felt himself shatter too. He couldn’t keep this in any longer, and he was a fool for thinking it could. 

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the spill.

“It’s okay. We can clean this up,” Akaashi said, already standing.

The red stood out on the white countertop and light gray flooring. It would be okay, with a little mopping. No stains. 

But maybe it would also be okay if it did stain. If things got a little ruined. 

“I never moved on from you,” he heard himself say. 

“Hand me a paper towel,” Akaashi said. And then he froze. 

He didn’t say anything, but Bokuto didn’t need him to. The words were coming now, uninhibited, flowing freely like the wine dripping off the counter. 

“I never moved on when you ask me to,” Bokuto said. “I tried for a really long time, but I just don’t think I was ready to face the idea that no matter how beautiful or funny or sweet someone was, they would never be you.” 

Now that he’d started, the words kept coming and wouldn’t stop – “I still really, really like you, okay? I should've opened my big, dumb mouth and said so ages ago but I was too scared because…because I don’t ever want us to stop being best friends, and I’d never forgive myself if I ruined what we have… but you have to know that for the rest of my life the only person I’m really ever going to eyes for is you. That’s never gonna change. I don’t think I can get over you, Akaashi, even if I wanted to. And, to be honest, I don’t really want to. So. Please… please don’t ask me to.” 

Bokuto’s breath hitched. “And I don’t know, part of me thinks that maybe you like me too? But I’m also really scared that you don’t and I’m just making a fool of myself in front of you again. I really do like being your best friend, okay? So…please don’t hate me for fucking all of this up.” 

He wasn’t crying. Maybe he’d already cried all his tears over Akaashi Keiji, and now laying all his cards out was simply his final act to achieve total peace on the subject. Still, he refused to look up from the spilled wine. Is that what he looked like, right now? Shattered and with deep, loving red spilled all over the floor?

The silence was deafening. This was a mistake after all. Bokuto heaved out a shuddering breath –maybe laughter, a sick version of it. What if he was wrong after all? He couldn’t keep his big mouth shut for just one day, and now the whole weekend would be ruined, their whole friendship would be ruined, and of course it was his fault.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi’s voice was so gentle. So warm. “Please look at me. I want you to look at me.” 

And Bokuto could never deny Akaashi, never even wanted to. 

As he brought his gaze up, Akaashi’s hands – firm, tender – reached out to cup his face. He was leaning across the counter. His shirt was going to be stained by red wine. 

“I - I feel,” Akaashi started clumsily. He bit down on his lower lip. “I can’t sleep because of you.” 

“W-what?” 

Akaashi looked frazzled. Not like high school, when his jaw had dropped to the floor and he looked confused. Now he looked… vulnerable, his cheeks faintly red and his eyes boring into Bokuto’s. 

“I mean,” he said, never breaking eye contact even as his voice shook, “I mean, the insomnia isn’t random, it’s because - it’s because you’re right. I also…have feelings for you, Bokuto-san. Romantic ones, that is. I like you too. A lot. I know I’m not - I’m not really good at this, not the way you are – and this is absolutely terrifying to say out loud. Please interrupt me.” 

“Holy shit,” Bokuto said, his hand shooting up to grab onto Akaashi’s. “Holy shit, Akaashi – what? What!?”  

Akaashi blushed terribly, but didn’t move away. “Say something else,” he said, choking on the words. 

“What the fuck!?” 

“Bokuto.” 

“Are you for real, Kaashi? Can I kiss you? Can I please kiss you–MMPH .” 

Akaashi leaned forward and Bokuto practically jumped to his feet, pressing their lips together shyly at first, and then all at once allowing themselves to be consumed by the newly unearthed feelings between them. 

He was kissing Akaashi. He was making out with Akaashi, across his kitchen counter, was this real life!? 

Bokuto pulled away, possessed. He wanted to be very clear.  “I love you,” he said urgently, forcing himself to look away from Akaashi’s lips long enough to get the words out. “I – I can’t – I’ve always loved you, Akaashi, couldn’t you tell?” 

“Couldn’t you?” Akaashi fired back, and brought their faces together again. He looked ready to climb the counter, red wine be damned. 

Bokuto instead pulled away and hopped over the counter in one, clean jump. Akaashi yelped quietly, and grunted as Bokuto crashed their bodies together, wrapping his arms around him. 

This time, as he gathered Akaashi in his arms, there was nothing holding him back. He pushed his face into the crook of his neck, centering himself, breathing in Akaashi. After a moment of recovering from the shock, Akaashi threw his arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and it took everything in Bokuto to not howl in utter delight.

“I’m afraid if I let go of you, I’ll wake up,” Akaashi said softly. “And this will all be a dream.” 

Bokuto laughed. He clutched on a little tighter. “I am too,” he admitted. “Like, is this really real? You’re not going to run away?” 

“Of course I won’t,” Akaashi whispered. “What makes you think I would?” 

Bokuto’s swallowed heavily. “I’m just…scared of losing you, you know? You’re really important to me.” 

“You’re important to me too. If I hadn’t asked you to keep that stupid promise, you never would’ve felt like losing me was an option. It was a mistake,” Akaashi said morosely.  

“‘Kaashi—“ 

“You’re not being fair to yourself,” he interrupted, firmly. “I hurt you. Why are you still refusing to acknowledge that?”

Bokuto was silent. The truth was – he didn’t know. Or rather, he didn’t realize that being hurt was something he was allowed to be upset about. Being hurt felt like comeuppance; a natural progression of enormous ill-placed feelings being forced onto a person where they did not fit. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault but his own for being hurt. It couldn’t be.

“I deserved it,” he said slowly, “And I don’t deserve you, because how could I? You’ve been putting up with me for so long. I deserve a little payback for all of that. Just a little.”

“Bokuto, you don’t deserve to be hurt - not by anyone, and definitely not by me. Nor do I put up with you; I love every moment together, even the tough ones, even the ones that aren’t pretty, precisely because we’re together. You will never be a burden to me,” the words were firm, undeniable. Being on the receiving end of Akaashi’s honesty would never not be an intense experience. Akaashi tightened his grip. “Please don’t forget it, but I will remind you as much as I can. Whenever you want.” 

Oh. 

Bokuto was blushing all the way to his hairline, it felt like. Akaashi’s words made him feel as if they were the only two people in existence. Two protagonists of the entire world.

He tried to speak but only managed to come up with a strangled sound. 

Akaashi laughed, breathily. “I’m happy that I can finally tell you this out loud,” he said. Then he sighed, a sound so worn it must’ve come from deep within him. “Can I be honest with you about something?” 

Bokuto, still struggling to process the pleased flush of embarrassment shooting through his entire nervous system, just nodded. 

“I,” Akaashi breathed out, “thought I had lost my chance with you. I believed that you moved on, and I was simply hanging on to a memory.” After a moment’s hesitation, as if he were mentally preparing to get the words out, he went on, “and then you said everyone already thought we were together, but you didn’t want to talk about us, and I assumed…it was your way of confirming that there was no chance of anything developing between us. But even still, I couldn’t bring myself to let go. So I thought I could just give you everything I’ve always wanted to give you anyways, and I would be content, even if you found someone else.” 

“Akaaaashii,” Bokuto choked out, at last able to speak again, squeezed tighter. “That’s so unfair to yourself.” 

“I suppose,” Akaashi said quietly. “I guess in a way, I felt like it was only fair. I broke your heart, I know I did, and I’m not some narcissist who thinks everyone around me will rearrange their lives because I’m finally caught up to my own emotions. I figured it was only right I got my heart broken too.” 

“I never want to break your heart,” Bokuto said seriously. “And to be super honest I would wait for you for a million years. There’s no one else for me, and there never will be. Really, it’s only you, it’s been you for as long as I can remember. You’re it for me!” 

Akaashi found himself on the receiving end of adoration, and he froze for a split second before pressing his face tighter into Bokuto’s chest. “Me too,” he said, face muffled. Bokuto thought, for a second, that a wet patch was growing on his shirt where Akaashi’s face was. 

Several words tried to burst out of Bokuto all at once – but he was abruptly interrupted by the sound of rapt knocking on his door. 

They probably looked insane, opening the door for the delivery man, with matching teary faces and wine-stained clothes. 

At least the udon was good.

####### 

After dinner, Bokuto looked at Akaashi dead in the eyes and said, “I like you and I haven’t been sleeping, and you like me and you haven’t been sleeping – what is wrong with us?” 

Akaashi blinked. And then he smiled, slow at first, until it grew and he was hiding quiet laughter behind his hand. “When you put it like that, we sound pretty stupid.” 

“I know!” Bokuto tackled him in an embrace, sighing contentedly as Akaashi adjusted himself to get comfortable. “We have so much sleep to catch up on. If I spend one more night staring at my ceiling I’m gonna lose my shit.” 

Akaashi snorted. “I have watched,” he said slowly, “so many terrible anime in the last few months. I hate them, but it was better than just laying awake in the dark.” 

“Wanna watch one of them now?”

One of items Akaashi had recommended he buy when he first moved in was a small flatscreen TV for his bedroom – at the time, Bokuto thought it was kind of a waste, but now he couldn’t be more thankful of the purchase. On a whim, he plucked Akaashi up in his arms, carried him bridal style and dumped him on his newly cleaned bedsheets. 

Two things – one, Akaashi definitely had been skipping meals lately, he was light as a feather, and second, his face was flushed adorably pink as he laid out on his bedsheets. He looked frazzled, like he had no idea what to do with himself. 

“Don’t,” he pushed his glasses up. “Don’t do that again.” His face turned brighter red. 

Bokuto beamed. “I dunno, Kaashi, you kinda look like you liked it.” 

Akaashi slapped both hands over his face. “Please just put the show on so I can hopefully suffocate while you’re distracted.” 

Laughing, Bokuto flicked on the TV. He hopped into the bed, lifted Akaashi up for just a moment to squeeze in underneath him, and settled comfortably. Akaashi had not lifted his hands from his face, but if his ears were any clue, he was probably alarmingly red under there. 

“Sorry,” Bokuto whispered. “No more picking you up….starting now.” 

He let Akaashi pick the show – something called High Rise Invasion, which was…just really bad – but Bokuto was only half paying attention. Maybe paying around 30% attention. Maybe less. 

Most of his focus was on Akaashi, who had settled between his legs and was laying on his chest as if he’d been doing it his whole life. Bokuto had initiated this, but he hadn’t really thought it through; now he was sucking in choked-off breaths because he wasn’t fully equipped to handle this much feeling all at once. He could feel Akaashi all over him. When he looked down he was greeted by the top of his bedhead. 

This still felt like a dream. Not in a bad way – it was just surreal, that he was cuddled up so close to Akaashi, who radiated ‘don’t touch me’ vibes even when he wasn’t doing it on purpose. He had to pinch himself on the thigh just to prove he hadn’t fully lost his marbles and given into a hallucination. 

The locked box he’d shoved his feelings into had burst open magnificently, and buried inside was the high school kid who got rejected and spent a week crying around his house. Bokuto just wished he could’ve seen the future, so he could tell his past self to hang in there, it would all work out!! Eventually! 

“Thanks for not rejecting me,” he whispered, not really thinking. “I was so scared that you would…just thanks, I guess.” 

To his surprise, Akaashi jumped – nearly knocking him on the jaw. He didn’t turn around, and said quietly with his face to the TV, “Bokuto-san, you don’t have to thank me for not rejecting you.”

“Well – then thank you for taking care of me all these years. Thanks for letting me be super needy. Thanks for being here with me. Thanks for putting on this terrible show for us to watch.” 

Akaashi hummed a quiet laugh. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said again. He took one of Bokuto’s hands, playing with his fingers. 

“Thanks for inviting me this weekend,” he said back so quiet, it was hard to hear him. “Thanks for dinner. Thanks for making me get out of my head all these years. Thanks for being my best friend even when I made you sad.” 

They were quiet, and then Akaashi spoke again. “My thoughts are so calm when I’m with you.” 

“Yeah?” Bokuto smiled, wrapping his arms around Akaashi’s upper body and hugging him close. “Tell me more.” 

“I can’t even describe it,” he said, reaching up to rest his hands on Bokuto’s forearms. “It’s like all the what ifs have been muted. I can tell they’re still there, but its not taking over my every waking moment.” 

He let out a small huff. “I’ve spent months doing everything to make my thoughts stop racing, and all it took was getting manhandled by you into bed and suddenly it’s all fine.” 

Bokuto snorted. “Are you saying you want me to carry you all the time? ‘Cuz I can! I’ve been PRing in lifts like crazy lately!” 

“I noticed,” Akaashi said primly. His ears were pink again. He cleared his throat. “Um, I – I’ve been meaning to say this, but I’m sorry I was the reason for your slump.” 

“I think I was the reason for my slump, dude,” Bokuto said good-naturedly. “Kazue basically ripped me a new one when I told her I was just bottling everything up. I got so in my head about everything that my body had to take the reigns and force me to slow down.” He smiled, slightly. “If I didn’t have a total meltdown I probably wouldn’t have gotten my shit together. Think about it, ‘Kaashi – we probably wouldn’t even be here right now!” 

“Ugh,” Akaashi said, disgust in his tone as he yawned hugely. “What a nightmare.” 

“Are you tired? I can set up the pull-out couch for you.” 

“Bokuto-san, if you kick me out of this bed I will never forgive you.” 

“O-okay!” Bokuto let out a startled laugh. “Do you at least want pajamas?” 

He did– but not his own pajamas, even though there were packed carefully in his roller bag in the room over. No, Akaashi wanted whatever was in Bokuto’s drawers – which turned out to be the KISS MY ACE shirt from what felt like years ago. 

It was huge on him. He looked so cute in it made Bokuto’s head spin. 

“If you call me cute,” Akaashi said, eyeing him sourly, “I will make you sleep on the pull-out couch.”

“Noooo,” Bokuto crooned, trying to hide his laugh. “But, c’mon, it’s just – you got me a shirt that said “kiss my ace” and now I know you actually wanted to kiss me? You’re not subtle! How the heck did I miss that?” 

Akaashi scowled fiercely. “It was subtle enough,” he said. “You didn’t catch on.”

“That’s not the flex you think it is,” was all Bokuto said, and was met with a pillow to the face for his troubles. 

As they laid back in bed, under the covers, simultaneously caught between extreme excitement and nervousness, Akaashi broke the tension by surging forward to kiss Bokuto suddenly. 

“You–!!” 

“Don’t say it,” Akaashi said. “It was just a goodnight kiss.” 

“Are you sure you didn’t just want to ‘kiss your ace’–” 

“GoodNIGHT, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi interupted, flipping over so he could press his back into Bokuto’s chest. 

Bokuto threaded an arm over his waist, laughing so hard he shook the whole bed. 

They fell asleep eventually – inseparable. The emotional whirlwind left them exhausted, so they pressed themselves against each other as close as they could and passed out intertwined. 

Bokuto had promised a relaxing weekend, and he had every intention of keeping his word. He cooked up a storm in the morning, while Akaashi showered and got dressed, and they ate across from each other at the kitchen counter. Bokuto couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering all over Akaashi’s face, marking every inch of it to memory. This was how Akaashi looked the morning after I told him I loved him. This was the meal we ate together after he told me he loved me. 

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked. 

“Wonderfully,” Akaashi hummed. “You make an excellent pillow, Bokuto-san. We should sleep together all the time.” 

He smirked behind his mug of coffee, and Bokuto felt his face grow warm. That sounded like the greatest idea Akaashi had ever had, but he had a goal for today, dammit. 

“I have a surprise for lunch,” Bokuto said resolutely and not at all petulantly. “And I know it’s cold, but I figured you’d enjoy a day at the aquarium? Or we could just stay in and – watch movies. And talk.” He tilted his head, imploring, and snaked their fingers together. “This is a weekend of whatever you want to do, after all.” 

Akaashi’s eyes widened – it was adorable, how shocked he looked. So unlike him. “All of that sounds lovely,” he said, cheeks reddening. “Um, the aquarium would be nice. I rarely get to go out and do things I actually enjoy in Tokyo.” 

“You’re such a workaholic,” Bokuto teased, lips wrinkling in a fond smile. 

“Well,” Akaashi said haltingly, “it’s easier to work than it is to think about…everything else, like all the ways I wish my life was different.”

Bokuto looked at their joined hands. “Well, your life is different now,” he pointed out.

Akaashi smiled faintly. “And it likely wouldn’t have been if you hadn’t made a move,” he said. “You know, when I first said yes to coming this weekend, I think I clocked in a 10 hour shift the next day. I didn’t want to think about it.” 

It was Bokuto’s turn for his eyes to widen. “Wait – you were nervous ?” 

“Of course I was,” Akaashi said. “The idea of being doted on by you for a weekend was…and still is a little…overwhelming.” He flushed again. 

“In a good way?” 

“A really good way,” Akaashi agreed, blushing hard enough that he had to avert his gaze. “Let’s go to the aquarium.”

#######

The aquarium was awesome and barely busy, thanks to the cold weather. Akaashi looked really cute bundled up, though he’d forgotten his scarf, so of course Bokuto wrapped his own around his face.

“You can keep the scarf,” Bokuto said. “You look really cute wearing it.” 

Akaashi did not hesitate to jab his fingers into Bokuto’s sensitive side – drawing out squawking laughter. “One day you’ll remember that the only person in this world who can call me cute without repercussions is my grandmother.” 

Bokuto pouted. “Not even your boyfriend?” 

He watched as, though Akaashi’s face didn’t move, every single wire in his brain seemed to fry all at once. Bokuto could just tell. “Is that what you are,” he said dazedly, “my……boyfriend?” 

“Is that what you want me to be?” Bokuto hesitated. “Sorry, I just kind of jumped to conclusions there. I’m not trying to rush you, I swear –” 

“Of course,” Akaashi cut him off, looking up at him through his lashes, “I want you to be my boyfriend, Bokuto. Of course I do. Can we,” he cleared his throat, “can we hold hands?” 

Bokuto did not have to be asked twice. 

They had their surprise (late) lunch at Onigiri-Miya’s; Osamu hooked them up with some free rice balls and a private booth. His face was usually less smug than his twins, but catching sight of their joined hands made Osamu grin hugely. “Finally,” he said. But he didn’t drag it out – just served them their food and let them have their space together. Alone. 

“Akaashi, you gotta stop crying over onigiri,” Bokuto said as he snapped several pictures of the scene in front of him. “I feel like I’m enabling an addiction.”

“You are,” Akaashi informed him. He dabbed at his eyes with a napkin. “But if you stop, I’ll have to kill you.”

“I dunno, it kinda feels like you like onigiri more than you like me....” 

Akaashi shot him a look that was so comically affronted, Bokuto almost choked on his rice ball. “Bokuto-san, I like you more than most things,” he said hotly. “You just wanted to hear me say that.” 

“Maybeee,” Bokuto said sheepishly. “So if you had to give up either me or onigiri for the rest of your life, you’d give up the onigiri?” 

Akaashi held his gaze for an impressively long time before looking down, pushing his glasses up his nose, and primly saying, “Well, when you put it like that…” 

“Kaaaaashi!” 

####### 

GROUP CHAT: HOUSE BOKUTO >:)

Kouchan: [sent a photo.jpg] 

Kouchan: Akaashi and I got matching shark hats at the aquarium!!!

Kouchan: OH WAIT I FORGOT TO TELL YOU 

Kouchan: AKAASHI IS MY BOYFRIEND NOW!!! 

Kazooka: !!!!!!!! 

Kazooka: FINALLY!!＼(◎o◎)／ 

Aneki: I am SO happy for you ! 

Aneki: You two look so happy together!! 

Aneki: Tell Keiji we said hello! 

Kazooka: tell kei-chan im gonna kick his ass if he makes u cry ever again 

Kouchan: (._.) 

Kazooka: i love him dearly but he must pay for his crimes

Kouchan: Kazue I’m not going to tell my boyfriend that, that’s rude!

Kouchan: Hello, Kazue-san and Renho-san. This is Keiji. I have no intention of hurting Bokuto-san again, and thank you both for being supportive.. -AK 

Aneki: Keiji, that was so sweet! You’re very welcome 

Kazooka: threat rescinded, kei-chan is the cutest person alive 

Aneki: Kazue please stop teasing him, you’re going to scare him 

Kouchan: No, it’s okay. I’m here to stay -AK 

Kazooka: MY HEARTTTTT ⊂二二二（ ＾ ω ＾ ）二⊃ 

Kouchan: WHAT DID AKAASHI SAY HE DELETED THE MESSAGES SO I CAN’T READ THEM 

Aneki: Don’t worry about it, Kou 

Aneki: I’m sure Keiji will tell you when he’s ready 

Aneki: Now stop texting us and go have fun with your boyfriend!

#######

For dinner they ate a nightmarish (at least, Bokuto’s nutritionist would think so) combination of leftover onigiri, popcorn and wine, and watched a sci-fi movie that Akaashi chose. Bokuto got the bright idea to massage Akaashi’s supremely tense back during the movie, which lasted all of ten minutes before things took a hard left, and they didn’t watch the movie or eat the popcorn so much as they did make out like horny teenagers on the couch. 

Bokuto had never had sex with someone he was in love with, and he wasn’t really fully prepared to take that step. Not because there was something wrong – but rather, there was too much that was right. He was pretty sure he’d come in his pants long before either of them even got the chance to undress. 

“Akaashi,” he moaned, as Akaashi climbed on top of him to straddle his hips. “Holy shit, ‘Kaashi, you’re so– fucking – hot —” 

Akaashi smiled delicately. He brought his face down to nip at Bokuto’s neck, trailing kisses down to his collarbone. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he said breathily, between pecks. “You don’t even know, Koutaro.” 

An electric jolt went down Bokuto’s spine. He was not going to last like this at all. “‘Kaashi!!” He grabbed both of Akaashi’s shoulders and pushed him away, holding him at arm's length, and blinked wide, panicked eyes at him. “Can I – can I call you Keiji?”

“Um,” Akaashi blinked at him, growing redder by the second. “I suppose. Yes. You can do that.” 

“Keiji,” Bokuto said immediately, and grinned in pure delight at the way Akaashi – Keiji blinked owlishly back at him. “Keiji, I am so in love with you. I’m gonna keep saying it, because I’ve been holding it in for a while and now I gotta let it out.” 

“Okay,” Keiji said, looking like he was going to combust. 

“And by a while I mean, like, seven years, even though I guess I was kind of in the dark for a chunk of it,” Bokuto went on, leaning forward to nose under Keiji’s chin.  

“I can’t really say I’m much better,” Keiji gritted out, wringing Bokuto’s shirt in his hands as he tilted his head up. “I’ve felt this way about you since my third year.” 

“Wait –” Bokuto stopped abruptly, despite Keiji’s clear frustration; except he couldn’t really focus on that now because it felt like a bomb just got dropped on the whole event. “Of college?” 

Keiji went from alarmingly red to alarmingly pale in the span of a moment. “Yes,” he said, and it was clear from his stiffness and dark eyes that he was lying. Very poorly. 

“Third year,” Bokuto said, voice pitching upward, “of high school!? ” 

“Oh my god,” Keiji groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “Please forget I said anything.”

“You know I literally can’t do that!!” 

Keiji groaned again. “I was so caught off guard when you confessed, I didn’t know what to tell you,” he said into his palms, “so I figured it would be better to tell you the truth. And I didn’t realize that everything I was, er, thinking about you actually was a crush until you already graduated, but then I figured it would be better if we just stayed friends and Bokuto-san, if I keep talking about this I’m going to want to crawl into a hole somewhere and live there for the rest of my life.” 

Yikes, “Bokuto-san” had come back, like a last ditch effort to save his dignity. “Hey, hey,” Bokuto said, trying not to smile as he gently pried Keiji’s hands away from his face. “Okay, I’ll drop it. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he said, ducking his head to avoid making eye contact. “I’m the one who’s the idiot here. It’s not your fault.” 

“No, no you’re not. And sorry for pushing, I mean,” Bokuto said gently. “I know I – I can be pushy, and demanding, and too much, so you gotta tell me when to cut it out, and I swear I will.” 

Something in Keiji’s demeanor changed. He didn’t look quite as self-conscious, but instead rather scowly. “Stop doing that,” he said bluntly. “Seriously.” 

Bokuto blinked. “Doing what?” 

“Putting yourself down. You are not too much, you will never be too much for me. I know you need a little help staying grounded, but you consistently sweep me off my feet. I float when I’m with you, and I like it when you show me what it's like up in the sky where you get to be all the time, among all the stars.”

He forgot, sometimes, that Keiji was a writer. A poet really, and a relentlessly honest one; a rare combination of a person both intentional and lyrical with their words. The words flowed off his tongue smooth and easy, like running water, but hearing it made Bokuto feel like steam was pouring out of his ears. 

Now it was his turn to blush so hard he lost basic motor function. 

At least it made Keiji smile. “I spent the last several years thinking far too much instead of acting,” he said, confidence returning, cupping Bokuto’s chin in his hands, “I’d like to make up for lost time. Can we get back to what we were doing?” 

“Mhmm!” Bokuto was speechless. He was in love. He was so in love it was stuck in his throat, and he could only hope Keiji would drink it in as their mouths came together once again. 

“And,” Keiji said, sotto, adoring, “I love you too, Koutaro.” 

It reverberated through his head, on a perfect loop. I love you too. Just as he was, no more and no less.

#######

On Sunday, Bokuto woke up at his usual time. The sun hadn’t risen yet, and Keiji (after being adamant about being the big spoon, only to still wind up curled into his chest) was still sleeping. Tomorrow, Bokuto would have to return to his regular routine – wake up, play his morning playlist, make breakfast, get to practice, and then volleyball, volleyball, volleyball. Tomorrow, Keiji would be back in Tokyo, spending too much time at work and not enough time sleeping.

But things wouldn’t go back to the way it was before. Bokuto had slept like a damn angel the last few nights, finally ridden of the anxieties and insecurities that meshed into devestating insomnia. No more slumps. He could tell Keiji how much he loved him now, not just suffer in silence. 

Maybe the fear of losing Keiji wasn’t entirely gone; maybe the tenuous grip on his self-esteem was still a little slippery, but for the first time in a long while, Bokuto didn’t feel like his feelings were drowning him. And they were enormous feelings, the ones he harbored for Keiji – feelings like love and lust and adoration and everything swirled together. 

And it felt overwhelming but – in a good way? Like the first plunge into a cool pool of water; stinging at first, and then refreshing, wonderful, comfortable, after some adjustment. 

He’d accomplished what he’d thought was impossible. He had Keiji as his best friend still, and as his boyfriend; he’d taken the risk and as a reward, he got to spend his morning cuddled up close with his favorite person in the world.  

Bokuto was not going to make a habit of breaking his promises. But maybe, just this once, it had been worth it.

########

EPILOGUE. 

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Bokuto loved spring. It meant the cold clutches of winter were at last, letting go; international tournaments were right around the corner. Trees and flowers started to blossom, the days lasted a little longer.

This year, it was also a season of really good news. Renho and Luke had gotten the family together on a big video call to announce that after so many years away, now that Renho’s residency was over, the couple decided they wanted to start their new lives together in Japan. Luke was taking a full-time job at Kindai, and a private practice in Osaka had extended an offer to Renho.

Renho beamed at her family brightly, like a rocketing star hurtling through space on its way back home.

Absolutely nothing on the planet could’ve stopped Bokuto from beaming back.

Spring also meant it was time for the annual Shugo dinner party, and this year’s was going to be even better than before.

Hinata brought his sister; no one was really shocked to discover he and Natsu were twin suns, orbiting around each other and lighting up the room wherever they went. It also didn’t hurt that she was as much of a volleyball junkie as her brother, and couldn’t help but look at all the professional players surrounding her with wide-eyed admiration.

Despite all odds, Sakusa showed up. He didn’t just lurk in the corner either, Bokuto definitely caught him getting swept up in the Hinatas hurricane, but he looked like he was having fun. Or at least, he didn’t look miserable. He shot Sakusa two happy thumbs-up, and Sakusa rolled his eyes but held up a thumb in response.

You’re doing amazing, bestie, he mouthed to him.

Omi-kun flipped it into a thumbs down.

Bokuto laughed. Baby steps!

Atsumu did not bring Osamu this year. Instead, he brought Aran, practically hanging off him, glowing and smug about the whole thing. It was a little obnoxious, but incredibly endearing to see the delighted flush to his cheeks every time Aran cracked a joke clearly meant for Atsumu.

The rest of the team let themselves be wined and dined, which Hana-san was incredibly gracious about.

Meian’s eyes lit up when he finally caught Bokuto, just before they were all called to eat.

“Bo!” he said cheerily, greeting him with a happy pat to his back. “I’m so glad you made it, big guy.”

“It’s lovely to see you again, Koutaro-kun,” Hana-san said sweetly. “And who’s this with you?”

Bokuto grinned hugely. He couldn’t help it. “This is Keiji!!”

Keiji pushed up his glasses. He was nervous, but not overwhlemingly so. “Akaashi Keiji. Nice to meet you, Meian-san, Hana-san,” he said with a little bow of his head. “Thanks for having me.”

He smiled a little easier – thanks, in part, to the fact that Bokuto had entwined their hands together. “I’m Koutaro’s boyfriend,” he added.

The world didn’t stop. Time didn’t slow.

Meian said, “That’s great, you two!” Though he was making a face eerily similar to Bokuto’s dad when he was proud of him and really emotional about it.

Bokuto was pretty sure he heard someone who sounded like Inumaki say “about damn time” and someone else who sounded like Atsumu say “how the fuck did I not notice this, we’re literally neighbors” and then a yelp when someone else (likely Omi-kun) smacked him.

Bokuto didn’t say it out loud, but a huge feeling seized him in the moment. It felt like walking off the court after winning a close match; or maybe that first breath of spring air that didn’t chill your lungs. It felt like coming home after a long time away, to people you loved, and who loved you back.

He squeezed Keiji’s hand – he knew his boyfriend didn’t read minds, not really, but when Keiji looked back at him and smiled, really smiled, he wondered if maybe he understood it all anyways.