Work Text:
Akaashi shivered on the doorstep, pulling his scarf above his nose. Bokuto had passed his house, not being able to read the numbers in the snow, and was presently backing up into the driveway.
The heat from the vents stung his cheeks as he got in the passenger seat. He tore off his mittens first, then got to work wiggling out of his coat.
“Happy birthday Keiji!” Bokuto yelled, a huge grin on his face. His hair was tufted up, reminding Akaashi of snowy mountain tops.
“Thanks,” he said, wadding up his coat and throwing it to the ground. Eighteen, such a big number. An entire childhood behind him now.
He remembered when he thought it was so far away. And then those years when he thought he’d never see adulthood. How had he gotten here? Slugging through his late teens following behind Bokuto, that’s how. It made his stomach churn to think about.
Bokuto typed on his phone wildly, and soon a Sufjan Stevens song was playing from the radio.
“Thanks,” said Akaashi, pressing his hand to the speakers, feeling the bass beneath his palm.
“You had that eyebrow crinkle,” said Bokuto, shifting the car into reverse.
“Eyebrow crinkle?“
“Yeah,” said Bokuto. “You get this cute little crease on your forehead when you’re thinking too hard.”
Akaashi couldn’t help but smile. Bokuto knew his nuances better than he himself did. He spent all his time on the court trying to manage Bokuto and his moods.
It took Akaashi years to realize Bokuto had been doing the same for him.
“Want to know what I have planned?” Asked Bokuto, nearly bouncing in his chair. The car skittered at the stop sign, and his face went sheet-white.
“Hopefully not an ER visit,” said Akaashi, clutching the handle on the door.
“Definitely not. Actually wait, I’ll surprise you.”
“Okay,” said Akaashi. He shut his eyes and leaned his head on the door, humming to Visions of Gideon as Bokuto crawled through the snowy streets of the neighborhood.
When they arrived, Bokuto made Akaashi stand with his eyes shut in the mud room as he rushed into the kitchen to set up. Akaashi shed his coat again, having put it back on before exiting the car. He always ran hot or cold, never quite feeling comfortable.
Except when Bokuto held him. Hot or cold, all he could focus on was the rise and fall of his boyfriend’s chest. The legato rhythm of his breath. That was the only time Akaashi’s mind was truly silent.
“Come on in!” Said Bokuto.
The first thing Akaashi noticed was the tower of dishes in the sink, all splattered with orange.
“No! Don’t look there!” Bokuto slid across the wood in his socks, blocking Akaashi’s view of the sink. “I’ll clean it later! Look there!”
Akaashi followed the point of his finger to see a pyramid of muffins, stacked at least eight layers tall.
“Oh my god,” he said, covering his mouth. “Bokuto, who the hell is going to eat all of these?”
“Shh,” said Bokuto, putting a finger to Akaashi’s lips. “Just appreciate its beauty.”
“I’m appreciating it,” Akaashi promised. “How long did it take?”
“Don’t worry about that either,” said Bokuto. “Come here.” Bokuto stretched onto his toes to pull the top muffin from the structure, and they both breathed a sigh of relief as the tower stayed in place.
He pulled a candle from a drawer along with a book of matches, and made quick work of sticking it in and lighting it. “Voila,” he said, gesturing to the muffin.
Akaashi studied the flame. Pink wax began to drip down the side of the candle.
“You have the crinkle,” said Bokuto. “Just wish what your heart wants.”
‘Us,’ Akaashi thought. ‘I want us to stay like this forever.’ He blinked, surprised by what his mind had cooked up for him, but shut his eyes and blew out the candle regardless.
“What was it?” Asked Bokuto, golden eyes glowing. “Wait, don’t tell me, then it won’t come true.”
“This one’s special,” said Akaashi. “I want to make sure it comes true.“
Bokuto studied him for a moment, but didn’t ask him to elaborate. “Well, tell me how it tastes!”
It was still warm. It crumbled on his tongue, filling his mouth with sugar and autumn. Whatever his face showed, Bokuto looked pleased by it.
After opening his present (two concert tickets and a sweater decorated with owls), they wound up on the couch watching a movie. Akaashi put his head on Bokuto’s chest, eyes barely open to the screen.
“Are you sleeping?” Asked Bokuto, running a hand over Akaashi’s back.
“No,” he mumbled. “I didn’t nap today.”
“Oh,” said Bokuto. “Sorry.”
“Not your fault,” said Akaashi. He pushed himself to his elbows to kiss the stubble on Bokuto’s jaw. “You’re better than sleep.”
“You too,” said Bokuto, his eyes flicking from Akaashi’s eyes to his mouth. Akaashi closed the space between them and pressed their lips together, and the hours melted along with all the stress of the day.
“It’s eleven,” Akaashi mumbled into Bokuto’s neck.
“How can you tell?”
“There’s a clock on the nightstand,” he said. “I have to go home.” He checked his phone, squinting against the bright light. “Oh, man.”
“What is it?” Asked Bokuto, sitting up. His hair was a mess from Akaashi’s fingers raking through it.
“The snow,” he said. “We got like three feet.“
“No way,” said Bokuto. “For real?”
“For real,” said Akaashi. “There’s no way we can drive.”
A boyish grin spread across Bokuto’s face. “Would that be so bad?”
“Yes,” said Akaashi. “I have a curfew.”
“You’re an adult now,” said Bokuto.
“Don’t remind me,” Akaashi groaned. “I’ll call them.” He dialed his sister and put the phone to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” he said. “The streets are wrecked and I’m at Kou’s, help me.”
“Got it,” she said. “You’re at Aunt Suki’s and you left your phone at Bokuto-kun’s. Leave it there when you come home then get it in the afternoon.”
“You’re the best,” said Akaashi. Being the oldest and more rebellious, his sister had figured out every trick in the book for sneaking around their parents’ guidelines. And she loved her brother enough to share her wicked talents.
“Course,” she said. “Have fun, stay safe.” She had a mischievous lilt to her voice as she spoke.
“Gross,” said Akaashi, making a face at Bokuto. He laughed, clutching a hand to his bare stomach. “Love you.”
“You too, happy birthday kiddo.” With that, the receiver clicked.
Akaashi threw his phone aside and crawled atop Bokuto, straddling his hips. He kissed his mouth, his jaw, his collarbones and chest.
When finally they curled up, sweaty and exhausted, the weight of the day hit him. He was an adult. He could vote. All too soon he’d be off to university, with or without Bokuto. Time was slipping away and there was so little he could do to stop it.
“Your breathing gets shallow when you’re thinking too much,” said Bokuto, gently squeezing Akaashi.
“I don’t know how not to,” said Akaashi. “Some nights I just can’t get rid of it.”
“Think out loud,” said Bokuto. “Or hum. Or let me tell you a bedtime story.”
“The third one, please,” said Akaashi.
He relished the vibrations of Bokuto’s chest as he spoke, relaying a story of kingdoms and dragons and two princes who could overcome anything. Sleep was still far away, but his anxiety eased, and he felt as though he were floating atop Bokuto’s mattress.
“Follow me,” Akaashi said when Bokuto’s story lulled.
“Hmm?”
“You know how I followed you to your high school?” Said Akaashi.
“Yeah?”
“Follow me to Uni,” said Akaashi. “Promise it.”
Bokuto tensed against him. “My grades.”
“Fuck grades,” said Akaashi. “You can play, I won’t go anywhere crazy. Just promise me.” Even if Bokuto broke it later, all Akaashi needed was reassurance in that moment. The year stretched out like an endless road; he wouldn’t be able to get to nineteen without Bokuto beside him.
“I would’ve anyway,” said Bokuto. “You didn’t even need to ask.”
Akaashi sighed. Of course. Why would he have expected anything different? Even when his brain was mean to him, the one thing it could never uproot was he and Bokuto’s relationship. The two of them were set in stone.
“Want another story?”
Akaashi nodded into the dark. He drifted off to Bokuto’s tale of two volleyball players, going off to college together, going pro, and then taking them wherever life took him next.
Akaashi thought about his wish. He already had magic in his life. He felt it must’ve been fate that he and Bokuto met, they just fit so perfectly together.
A million candles couldn’t change the fact that they would never be separated, of that Akaashi was sure.