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In the gym where the MSBY Black Jackals held practice, there was three main closets that the team used as storage. The first, and most important, held all of their volleyballs, carts, spare nets; any kind of equipment they would need. Due to its importance, it was located inside the actual gym itself. The second housed brooms, cleaning supplies, anything they would need for maintenance purposes. This one was in the hallway right outside the locker rooms for easy access. The third closet had no distinction. It was simply a place for anything without a place to be, and thus was rarely used. And because they almost never needed to access it, it was located in between two nondescript offices on the opposite side of the building from where practice was held.
A fun quirk about all the closets in their building was that they all locked from the outside. Meaning you never let the door shut behind you, because you wouldn’t be able to get back out without help. It wasn’t usually a problem considering they played a team sport and usually if someone was getting supplies, there was someone else to go along.
Usually.
–
Today just so happened to be Kiyoomi’s unlucky day.
After an endless night of tossing and turning, Kiyoomi had given up on sleep and decided to start his day, only to realize that he had run out of eggs, meaning he couldn’t eat breakfast. Trying to stay as positive as possible, as to not fall into despair, he thought he’d head over to the gym and stretch, maybe set up the net and work on his serves. But his car was in the shop and the train he needed wasn’t up and running yet, so he was forced to walk the thirty-five minutes.
Not the ideal start to his day, but it was still salvageable. At least that’s what he thought.
The gym had a padlock with a password that only the team and coaches knew. Coach Foster called it incentive for them to come in and practice whenever they needed. At the time Kiyoomi could not have cared less, but now he was beyond grateful.
Kiyoomi allowed himself a warm morning shower before starting his stretches. It was once he was done and he realized he still had over an hour before people started showing up that he decided to get out the net and a cart of volleyballs.
His bad luck persisted when he realized the net was missing screws. Cursing to himself, he rifled through the entire supply closet only to come up empty handed. Not a single fucking screw in the entire room.
And that was how Sakusa Kiyoomi found himself in the MSBY’s third closet, at five in the morning, with his back facing the door; his grumbles masking the quiet croaks of the door slowly closing.
–
Bokuto Koutarou wouldn’t go as far as to say he had a sixth sense or anything, but he definitely got feelings about things. And half the time those feelings ended up being right, so he tended to listen.
On a random Tuesday morning, Bokuto woke up five til five with an itch. It was an itch that screamed “practice practice practice”. So he did the only thing he knew would scratch it, and he went to the gym. He was out of the door and on his way in under five minutes.
Bokuto was surprised to see that the lights were left on and that one of the nets was halfway out of the closet. Given the time and the fact that there were no cars out front, he figured he was the first to arrive, but unless whoever left last was incapable of cleaning up after themselves, he must’ve had company.
Throwing his duffle toward a nearby bench, he jogged over to finish putting up the net for whoever had started. Once he realized it was missing a few screws, he quickly decided he would head over to the far away supply closet. He’d gotten into the habit of always checking there first since it had a lot of weird stuff. He figured if he didn’t find the screws he’d at least find something. Once, he found ten packs of cool mint chewing gum in a filing cabinet marked “rocks/ stones”. Right next to it, there was a set of dentures.
The screws were bound to be in there somewhere.
–
Kiyoomi was going to kill himself.
There was no other option. At this point he must’ve been stuck in this stupid closet for what felt like an hour, but, truthfully, he wasn’t sure because he left his phone in the locker room. He was practically kicking himself, and to top it all off he couldn’t find any of the goddamn screws he had come in here looking for in the first place.
He had officially given up on the day. He was half asleep with his head resting against the back wall when he heard it. More specifically, the door. He quickly looked up to see someone standing in the door way.
They looked like a superhero with their hands on their hips, their chest broad, and the backlight from the hallway making them positively glow.
“Thank fuck,” he said, scrambling to his feet as the person stepped into the closet light.
“Omi-omi? What’re you doing in here?” Bokuto tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy as he continued to step further into the room.
Kiyoomi practically huffed, “I was looking for screws for the stupid fucking net, but then I got locked in. Now if you’d move aside, I’d like to leave.”
“Oh!” Bokuto perked up. “Did you find the screws then? That’s what I was looking for, too. Great minds and all that,” he chuckled to himself.
Kiyoomi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “No,” he said through clenched teeth. “I didn’t.”
“Well they’ve got to be in here somewhere. Let’s keep looking!”
“Let’s not, Bokuto.” He tried to keep his annoyance and frustration out of his voice, but it didn’t work. “I’d rather just leave considering I've been stuck in here for god knows how long and you are entirely in my way, so if you’d just move then I’d gladly let you take a look.”
“Yah, of course-”
It was at that moment, with Bokuto starting to turn around, that Kiyoomi got a glimpse over his shoulder to see that the door that had been wide open not even a minute ago was fast approaching being all the way shut, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He was stuck behind what was essentially a giant marble block of a human being, and all he could do was watch as the door closed.
“Oh shit.” Kiyoomi dropped his head at Bokuto’s words. “I’m real sorry, Omi-omi.” Kiyoomi just sighed in reply before turning around and retaking his seat against the wall with his arms crossed. “Hey, at least the team is gonna get here soon! You know Meian always gets here a good half hour before practice so theoretically he could be here any minute.”
That caught Kiyoomi’s interest.
“It’s 6:30 already?”
“Well,” Bokuto scratched and the back of his head before laughing sheepishly. “Not exactly. But he might be earlier than usual. I can text him!” He quickly started patting himself down. Once he found his phone, he opened his contacts only to find that he didn’t have any service. “That’s weird,” he mumbled.
“What,” Kiyoomi arched an eyebrow. “No service?”
“No service,” he confirmed. “How’d you know?”
He sighed, “Lucky guess.” Kiyoomi watched Bokuto’s eyes drift around the room. He watched the way they refused to stay on any one object for more than a second. He watched a beat of sweat form above his brow. He watched as Bokuto’s hands carelessly tossed his phone back and forth. “What time is it,” he deadpanned.
“Oh, it’s around 5:40.”
“...”
“Give or take ten minutes.”
“...”
“Take. Take ten minutes.”
“...”
“It’s 5:14.”
“Oh my god,” he groaned, letting his head fall back and hit the wall.
“Hey hey hey, at least the time is gonna pass super fast.”
Kiyoomi’s head fell back forward, making direct eye contact with Bokuto. “And what makes you think it’s going to pass so fast? I’ve been sitting in here for apparently only like fifteen minutes and I was ready to attempt using that vent over there,” he gestured with his chin, “as a means of escape. So what exactly is gonna change in the next hour and a half.”
“Well, I’m here now, so… at least you won’t be alone?”
“Ah. Misery loves company,” he grumbled to himself.
“Exactly,” his smile seemed to brighten the room for a second before dimming and looking to the empty spot along the wall next to Kiyoomi. “Can I sit?”
Kiyoomi sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to ask to sit down, Bokuto. You can just do it.”
Bokuto put his hands up in surrender, “Just wanted to make sure.” He stepped over and slide down the wall until he hit the floor. There wasn’t a lot of room, but Bokuto still managed to leave a few inches between them.
“Can you just be quiet, okay? I have a headache.”
“Of course, of course... Is it like a stress thing or,” he trailed off.
“I didn’t sleep and I didn’t eat breakfast so.”
“Oh, right. That would do it,” his laugh had a tremor in it. Almost like he was nervous.
Silence enveloped them and Kiyoomi was able to breathe a little easier. He really did have a headache, but it’s not like it was super bad or anything, he was just irritated. He knew he couldn’t realistically blame Bokuto for getting them locked in here. After all, he’d also let the door shut behind him.
“Oh, hey! I have some protein bars.” Kiyoomi watched from his peripherals as Bokuto dug around his jacket pockets before pulling out four protein bars. “Would that help?”
Kiyoomi felt his eyebrows pinch at the earnesty. Honestly, it was a little hard to be angry at someone who was trying their best. “Yes, thank you.” And he wasn’t really. He was just mad at the situation. He silently reached over and grabbed one of the bars, his fingers briefly grazing Bokuto’s.
It startled him how warm Bokuto’s hands were. Of course his own hands got warm over the course of practice, but outside of volleyball, his hands were always ice cold. When he was a kid, his doctor told him he had poor circulation, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it. But Bokuto’s hands were hot. He briefly wondered if Bokuto had already warmed up before joining him in the closet.
Although, realistically if he had, it would be more obvious. His breaths would be shallower, he’d probably be a little sweatier. Not that he thought about Bokuto sweaty and panting. Because he didn’t.
He shook the thoughts from his head as he unwrapped the poorest excuse for a breakfast he’d ever seen. What must be done must be done, he told himself as he took his first bite.
“Did you get to practice anything before getting stuck in here,” Bokuto asked.
“No,” he sighed, resigning himself to conversation. “I just showered and stretched.”
“Ah. Honestly, I wish I had done that,” he laughed again. “I would kill for a hot shower right now. I think I might’ve pulled a hamstring or something yesterday,” he said grabbing at his own thigh, massaging the muscle lightly.
The comment, along with the visual, brought up the mental image of Bokuto, specifically his thighs, wet and naked in the shower. Water so hot that the steam choked you… He inhaled, “Can we not talk about volleyball, please.”
“Yah, sorry. I know I talk a lot.”
“It’s fine,” he sighed. He sure was doing that a lot today. “Really I don’t mind, I just…” He looked up into Bokuto’s eyes, and something he saw there lit up at the confession.
“Have a headache?” Bokuto supplied.
He was still a little lost in his eyes. “Something like that, yes.”
“I get it.”
Kiyoomi nodded, turning his head back to the closed door. Honestly, he was just really tired. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back against the hard wall, keeping his arms crossed over his chest.
He couldn’t believe that he’d somehow gotten himself stuck in a closet with Bokuto of all people. Really. Of all the people on the team who could’ve, for some god for saken reason, come to practice this early and just so happen to find him, it had to be the one teammate he had non-platonic feelings about.
Just his fucking luck.
Bokuto has been on Kiyoomi’s radar since high school, but it wasn’t until he saw him play professionally for the first time that he ever saw him as attractive. He was magnetic on the court. Everyone’s eyes were drawn to him, and it was obvious he loved it that way.
When Kiyoomi joined the Jackals and saw how Bokuto was, he realized that they had nothing in common besides volleyball and decided to move on. And while his head was 100% in for this plan, his heart still gave a little flutter sometimes when he smiled a certain way. When he’d brush his fingers through his hair in the middle of a set. When he’d practically jump Kiyoomi after a win.
It made him smile. Bokuto made him smile.
The next thing he knew, he was slowly regaining consciousness.
He nuzzled into the soft heat under his head. It wasn’t until his nose bumped into something solid and decidedly NOT inanimate that he remembered where exactly he was and, more importantly, who he was with. He slowly looked up, making eye contact with Bokuto. Extremely close eye contact. Like “I’ve never seen the pattern of golden brown flecks in your eyes before,” extremely close eye contact. He wanted to memorize them. Study them like an astronomer would a constellation.
Just like everything else about Bokuto, his eyes were inviting. They were practically begging Kiyoomi to lean in. To get a closer look. To let himself fall, because surely Bokuto would catch him. He quickly flung himself back.
“Good morning. You get a good nap in?”
“I, um,” he didn’t know how to respond. “I-”
Bokuto glanced at the phone in his hand. “It’s still only 5:58. If you want to go back to sleep you can. I’ll wake you up whenever someone opens the door.”
Kiyoomi shook his head, “No, that’s quite alright.”
“As long as you’re sure,” he smiled.
Kiyoomi chose not the say anything and kept his focus entirely on the wooden door in front of him. He tried not to think about how nice it was; leaning on Bokuto.
Fuck, they had nothing in common, he had to remind himself. And Bokuto was so happy and excited about life. He would never look at Kiyoomi like that. At the end of the day it was pointless to even consider potentially having feelings for the guy next to him. He knew that.
He knew that.
“Do you like pop music?”
Kiyoomi looked over, “huh?”
“I just thought I could play some music to pass the time, but I’ve mainly got J-Pop downloaded.”
“Oh,” Kiyoomi nodded to himself as he turned his head back to the door. “Pop music is fine.”
“Okay!”
Kiyoomi could hear the enthusiastic smile in his voice. It warmed his heart to think that he was a part of the reason for that smile, even if he refused to look at it.
Soft music began to fill the room as Kiyoomi leaned his head against the wall. After a song or two Bokuto spoke up. It seemed to him that Bokuto always had something on his mind. There was always some thought to be shared; some memory or question. Honestly, it made Kiyoomi feel important. Like he was someone that Bokuto could confide in. It was nice to pretend.
“You know how Meian got that blackberry? The one that goes in your ear?”
Kiyoomi felt his eyebrow twitch, “Yes?”
“I was thinking he kind of looks like inspector gadget.” The reference shocked a laugh from him. “You know the-”
“Yah, yes. I know who inspector gadget is, I just wasn’t-” he was cut off by his own laughter. “He does look like that,” he paused. “We just need to get him the coat.”
“And the hat,” Bokuto added.
“Oh yes, can’t forget the hat.”
“We should suggest that as his next Halloween costume,” Bokuto perked up, moving his whole body to face Kiyoomi.
“No, no,” Kiyoomi turned his head towards him. “We should just get it for him for his birthday and not tell him what it is.”
“Oh boy, could you imagine if he came into practice one day wearing the coat with the blackberry? I wouldn’t be able to keep it together.” Bokuto moved his body so loosely when he spoke; it was like he had so much energy in his body it was trying to escape by any means necessary.
“But it would be amazing.” Now that he was looking at him, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. Everything about the man in front of him was mesmerizing. And maybe he was still a little groggy from his impromptu nap, but for once, he didn’t feel like suppressing his thoughts. He just wanted to exist around him without effort.
So he allowed himself to drink his fill. To watch those big eyes move. To take in the slope of his nose and imagine what it would be like to touch. He wanted to follow the lines of his face with his fingers. He wanted to be gentle. He wanted to cup his cheeks and feel the softness against his skin. He wanted to live solely off the air he breathes. To be so encompassed by him that nothing exists aside from them. He wanted the only word in his head to be Bokuto. Bokuto. Bokuto.
Or better yet. Koutarou. Koutarou. Koutarou.
“It would be amazing,” Bokuto agreed, sighing wistfully. Kiyoomi’s eyes finally landed on his lips. Something he could never have, but he wanted nonetheless. Even if it was just once, he wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss them. To feel them kissing back. “Who do you think is going to get us out of here?”
“Hmm,” he smirked. “The inspector probably.” He relished the rhythm of Bokuto’s laugh, watching it form. “Maybe Miya.”
Bokuto’s face scrunched up, “Really?”
Kiyoomi sat up straighter, finally looking away from his lips, “What? You don’t think so?”
“Well, I guess sometimes he gets to practice real early, but I don’t think he would end up looking for us. Not unless someone else suggested it.”
After a beat Kiyoomi asked, “Are you calling Miya dumb,” amusement lacing his every word.
“What? No! I’m just saying he wouldn’t think about it.”
“So you’re calling him absent-minded.”
“Yes! That’s it. Absent-minded.”
“Bo, you know that’s just another way of calling someone dumb right?”
A red flush crossed his cheeks as he stammered out, “N-No, it’s not!”
“It totally is,” Kiyoomi laughed. “You think Miya’s dumb.”
“Okay, well, not DUMB. Just a little not all there all the time.”
“A himbo,” he suggested.
“Yah! Wait, no! That just means dumb. I never- Stop laughing.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said as he continued to laugh, borderline hysterical. “It’s just funny how hard you’re trying to not call him stupid.” He lifted his hands as if in surrender, “He’s not here, it’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”
Bokuto worried his lip between his teeth as Kiyoomi’s laughter started to die out. Kiyoomi couldn’t take his eyes off the movement.
“I trust you.”
That snapped Kiyoomi’s gaze back up to Bokuto’s eyes. “You do?” The words came out with a lot more awe than he was expecting.
Bokuto’s answering smile was a soft thing. Intimate. Something just for them. “Of course I do.” Bokuto wasn’t meeting his eyes. His gaze landing somewhere lower on Kiyoomi’s face; holding his breath, he dared not to think about where. Bokuto closed his eyes and shook his head lightly before meeting his eyes again. He leaned in a little as he spoke, like he was sharing a secret. “I think if it does end up being Atsumu who finds us, he’s gonna somehow make it about how good his sets are.”
For the second time since being locked in, Kiyoomi found himself genuinely laughing along with Bokuto. “How would he even do that?”
“I don’t know,” he laughed, still slightly leaned in and getting closer with the way his body swayed. “But he’ll find a way.”
“So you’re calling him dumb AND narcissistic? Got it.” Which caused them to just get louder.
Bokuto’s laughter was contagious. And Kiyoomi couldn’t help but get lost in the freeing feeling of it. Every time he thought he was calming down, he heard Bokuto gasp for breath and it started up again. He felt lightheaded, leaning towards other for some semblance of support. In the midst of his fit, Bokuto even dropped his forehead to Kiyoomi’s shoulder and Kiyoomi just kept shaking.
When the laughter finally died, Bokuto took his head away, but he didn’t go far. Kiyoomi could feel the intensity of his gaze on him, and he made the mistake of meeting it.
“You know, you have a really nice laugh,” he said. “I haven’t gotten to hear it a lot before now, but it’s really,” Bokuto swallowed, his smile flickering, “It’s really something.”
Kiyoomi felt his cheeks heat up further and could only pray that he could pass off his blush as exertion from their laughter. “Thanks. I- um, I like yours, too,” his voice barely above a whisper.
He knew it wasn’t a confession in any meaning of the word, but he felt stripped bare all the same. Like Bokuto will somehow know that he likes so much more than just his laugh. That he likes the way he dresses, the way he always smells like coffee, and the way he insists on sitting in the third row from the back for every away game. He likes him loud and quiet and everywhere inbetween. He’s scared Bokuto will know that Kiyoomi likes the way the world is shaped around him. That he feels drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
“Can I tell you something, Omi-omi?”
There was a slight waver to Bokuto’s voice. Like whatever he wanted to say was insurmountable, even for him.
“Of course. You don’t have to ask.”
Bokuto nodded to himself before sighing heavily, bracing himself. “I like you.”
Kiyoomi felt his jaw slacken.
“I, um, I have for a while. And I know it’s kinda stupid because we don’t hang out a lot or anything and I don’t want to make things awkward, but- I don’t know, I just got the feeling like I should say it, so,” he trailed off.
Kiyoomi’s brain couldn’t comprehend the words. He knew what each word meant individually, but all together it just didn’t make any sense. His hearing had to be going out. There was no way that Bokuto Koutarou, the human embodiment of all things good, liked him. It was like he always told himself, they had nothing in common.
Except, apparently, their feelings for each other.
“Say something?” He seemed confident, but that waver was still there, giving him away. “Hey, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. Honestly, I’m not expecting you to, I just wanted to put it out there.” He looked down at the hands in his lap, his voice full of thinly veiled disappointment as he mumbled, “Be honest and all that.”
“I, um. I’m sorry, I’m just having a hard time. I-” like you too, he wanted to say, but it was like his throat had swollen shut.
“You don’t have to apologize, like I said it’s not a big deal that you don’t feel the same-”
“It’s not that.”
“-I just don’t want you to feel obligated to-”
“Bokuto,” he said firmly. “I,” he sighed, the words once again not knowing how to make it past his lips. So he did the next best thing he could think of. He closed the distance and kissed the corner of Bokuto’s mouth.
“Oh.”
“Yah,” his voice was airy and light, his breaths coming in heavy despite the fact that it was just a peck.
For his troubles, Kiyoomi had the pleasure of watching a smile grow across Bokuto’s face, before they met in the middle.
The kiss itself was kind of bad because Bokuto couldn’t stop smiling, but to Kiyoomi it was perfect. He pecked him one, two, three more times before finally pulling away.
“How long is a while?”
Bokuto just hummed in response, his eyes dazed.
“You said you’ve liked me for a while. How long is a while?”
“Oh,” Bokuto brought his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck as he laughed lightly. “Not too long or anything. Just since, probably high school.”
“What,” Kiyoomi deadpanned.
“Yah, I know,” he strained another laugh. “I just thought you were so cool, you know? And I never really stopped thinking that. The more I learned about you, the more I couldn’t shake it. And then you joined the jackals and I don’t know, I just fell for you. You’re,” he sighed, “everything.”
Kiyoomi surged forward without another thought, taking Bokuto’s face between his hands. The weight of his lips on his was all he needed in that moment. He didn’t know what to say to Bokuto’s confession, he didn’t even know how to process it, but he could show him that he felt the same. As he pulled back to breathe before leaning back in, he was showing how “everything” Bokuto was to him, too.
And he finally got to experience the singular joy of having Bokuto’s heavy hands on his body. He felt the weight of them on the nape of his neck and his waist, but he wanted more. He wanted them everywhere. He wanted to touch everywhere.
He slipped his right hand into Bokuto’s hair and couldn’t help but pull when he felt his waist being squeezed. Bokuto groaned into his mouth and Kiyoomi was insatiable. He wanted more of that sound, so he pulled again. And it worked, only this time Bokuto pulled away.
“I’m gonna need you to stop doing that,” his eyes practically black with how dilated they were. “Or we’re gonna start something we can’t finish in here.”
Kiyoomi was panting. He didn’t want to stop, but he understood what Bokuto meant. They still had practice, and even if they didn’t there was barely any room in this stupid supply closet. Even then, someone could find them any minute now. Speaking of.
“What time is it,” he asked.
“Um,” Bokuto fumbled with his phone before showing him his lockscreen. “6:28.”
Sighing, Kiyoomi dropped his head to the crook between Bokuto’s neck and shoulder. And just because he could, he dropped a kiss there as well.
“Now don’t start that,” Bokuto said somewhere above him. His one hand was still at his nape, but the other had snaked its way around to rub his back. Honestly, the position was uncomfortable for Kiyoomi, but nothing short of a fire could pull him away from it. He had the strange feeling that if he pulled away now that he would wake up and this would all be one big dream. A beautiful, wonderful dream that left him aching for days.
Bokuto leaned his head against his and whispered, “After practice, do you want to come over?”
Kiyoomi couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “That depends. Does this mean you’re my boyfriend?”
“Well, obviously.”
“Then yes. I’d love to.”
“Cool, cool.” Bokuto started scratching at the hair on the back of his neck and Kiyoomi just hummed contently. “So how long have you liked me?”
“Hmm?”
“How long have you liked me?”
“Oh,” Kiyoomi gently pulled out of his grasp. “Since-”
Suddenly they were doused in foreign light. And a large figure walked in. “Hey! I knew I’d find y’all in here. Didn’t I tell ya that, Sho-kun?”
“Actually, it was Meian’s idea.”
“Nonsense! That was all me.” Atsumu turned towards the pair on the ground, “So y’all getting up and outta here or what?”
Kiyoomi cleared his throat as he made his way to his feet. “Did you guys find the screws for the net?”
“Oh, yah! There was some in the coach’s office,” Hinata replied.
“Great, so we got stuck in here for no reason?”
“Sure seems like it, doesn’t it?” As Atsumu started to walk away, he added, “I know y’all are aching to hit my amazing sets so hurry up, will ya?”
Kiyoomi quickly snapped his eyes to Bokuto, who was still sitting on the ground. Upon making contact, they both burst out laughing. “Oh my god, I can’t-” Kiyoomi’s giggles cut himself off. “I can’t believe he actually-”
“What are y’all laughing at, huh?!” Atsumu demanded, hands on hips.
They only got louder. “I totally told you he would!”
“Wait, what’s so funny?”
Bokuto stood up and walked past Atsumu, patting him on the shoulder as he went, laughter still filling his words, “Don’t worry about it, man.”
“It’s too late, I’m worryin’,” Atsumu pouted.
“Really, Miya, it’s nothing,” Kiyoomi said as he finally left that stupid supply closet and they all started towards the gym.
Honestly, he never wanted to step foot in there again. It was some unique kind of torture being in solitude with nothing to do but stare at the walls. But then he caught a glimpse of Bokuto smiling at him from over his shoulder and he thought, maybe it wasn’t too bad. Maybe he’d get stuck in there again, as long as it was with Bokuto.
“Bokuto,” he called, catching up to his new boyfriend.
“Bo.”
“Huh?”
“You called me Bo before,” Bokuto blushed looking down at his feet. “You can call me that again, if you’d like.”
“Right,” he nodded. “Bo,” he liked the feeling of it on his tongue. It made him smile. “Since I first saw you play for the Jackals.”
Bokuto’s eyes connected with his, “Really?” Kiyoomi just nodded in reply. “Wow. Guess we could’ve been together for a while then, huh?”
Kiyoomi huffed a laugh. “Yah, probably, but I don’t think I would change anything.”
As they continued to walk, Bokuto looked at him as if he were the moon and the stars and Kiyoomi wondered how he’d missed it all this time. But he didn’t want to miss anything else, so he leaned over and left a peck on his boyfriend’s lips as he tangled their fingers together. In the background, he could hear Atsumu and Hinata yelling, assumingly about them, but he didn’t care. He just smiled under the warm gaze of Koutarou.
Koutarou. Koutarou. Koutarou.
He couldn’t wait for practice to be over.