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After the longest three minutes and forty-five seconds of Bokuto’s life, Kuroo finally crashes through his front door, with Kenma and a shovel in tow.
“I’m here!” he shouts. “What’s the emergency?”
Bokuto appears in the kitchen doorway, looking as if a kitchen cupboard has thrown up on him. He has flour on his cheeks, egg yoke in his hair, and a panicked expression on his face.
“Kuroo!” Bokuto cries, grasping his shoulders and shaking him. “You’re here! What took you so long? This is a disaster.”
“Kenma couldn’t find his DS,” Kuroo says. Kenma slumps against the wall and continues to click away at his game. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“The birthday cake!” Bokuto cries. “I ruined the birthday cake, Kuroo. Akaashi’s surprise party is tomorrow and I was supposed to bake the cake but I ruined it.”
“Birthday cake?” Kuroo repeats, mind racing trying to piece it together. “Wait. That’s the emergency?”
Bokuto nods. “I’ve been planning his surprise party for weeks! What is he going to say when he shows up and there’s no cake? What’s a birthday party without birthday cake?”
Kuroo sighs, leaning the shovel against the wall. “We really need to reevaluate what the word ‘emergency’ means, bro.”
“You know how to bake, right? Kuroo? Kenma?” Bokuto asks both of them somewhat desperately. “One of you has to know.”
“Not really,” Kenma says dully, now crouched on the ground.
Kuroo runs a hand through his hair. “I mean. We can try.”
Kenma sighs but shrugs his agreement. Bokuto smashes Kuroo in a bone-shattering hug.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you, I'll pay you back for this somehow, I promise!" Bokuto shouts.
"Yeah, no problem, bro." Kuroo flinches as Bokuto's eggy hair drips on his shoulder. “I mean, how hard can it be?”
Kuroo throws the baking pan against the wall. The fifth failed cake clatters on the floor, hard as a rock.
“What are we doing wrong?” he yells. Bokuto looks up from his fetal position on the floor long enough to chastise him, it’s well past midnight now. “Sorry, sorry…”
They had burned the first cake. No one had remembered to set the timer as they went to play volleyball in the front lawn. The second Bokuto ruined by opening and closing the the oven about seventeen times, leaving the bottom crispy and the middle raw. Kenma had a sneezing fit in the third's batter and they'd all had to clear out of the kitchen until the flour settled out of the air. And y the fourth cake, Kuroo had been so exhausted he mistook salt for sugar and Kenma looked like he was on the verge of tears during the taste test.
“He’s going to dump me,” Bokuto moans. “I’m the worst boyfriend in the world.”
Kuroo closes his eyes, trying to will himself not to scream. He's so tired his eyes feel raw and dry like sandpaper. He takes a deep breath and summons his nerve.
“Get off the floor, Bokuto. We're not losing to a goddamn cake,” Kuroo hisses, pointing at him. “Kenma wake up, we’re trying again.”
Kenma’s resting his head on his laptop keyboard and whimpers. “Tetsu, I want to go home.”
Kuroo almost falters at the sound of his first name.
“Last one, I promise,” he says evenly. “Kenma read off the recipe. Bokuto clean off that pan. This one’s all me.”
He makes sure Kenma rereads each line of the recipe twice. He triple checks his measurements. He sits cross-legged in front of the stove, watching the cake rise with wild eyes.
Kuroo pulls it from the oven carefully. Kenma and Bokuto hover over him.
“Did it work?” Bokuto asks, eyes wide.
It doesn’t look burned. Kuroo touches the cake briefly and the cake springs back, firm and warm. Kuroo’s heart races.
“I think we did it,” Kuroo says.
“Put it down gently,” Bokuto says. “Gently!”
Kuroo sets it on the counter.
“Do you think it tastes alright?” Kenma asks, voice hushed.
Kuroo frowns. “Only one way to find out.”
Kuroo pulls out a fork from the kitchen drawer and Bokuto hisses, “You’re going to ruin it!”
“You do it then,” Kuroo snaps, shoving the fork at him.
Bokuto’s hand trembles as he chips off the smallest, tiniest piece off the corner. He jumps up and down in excitement, fork still hanging out of his mouth.
“It tastes like cake, it tastes like cake!” he yells.
“Oh thank god.” Kuroo buries his face in his hands. Kenma slumps and lays belly-flat on the floor. “It’s over. It’s finally over.”
He checks the clock. It’s half past three in the morning. They’re going to have to be awake in two hours for volleyball practice. Kuroo’s head is buzzing with mental and emotional fatigue.
“Now we just have to frost it,” Bokuto whispers.
“No.” Kenma hooks onto Kuroo’s ankle. “We’re leaving. You can frost it yourself in the morning.”
Bokuto gives Kuroo a distressed look and Kuroo shakes his head.
“Either way, we’d have to wait for it to cool off,” Kuroo says. “We’ll frost it in the morning.”
“Will you say over?” Bokuto says, voice tiny as he hides behind his hands. “I don’t want to be left alone with it.”
Kuroo's too tired to argue with his logic. "Let me take Kenma home first. Kenma? Kenma?"
Kenma’s already asleep, using Kuroo’s foot as a pillow.
Kuroo yawns as Bokuto hushes everyone. Akaashi’s surprise party is held in the Fukurodani gym, currently filled with murmuring people and party decorations. Fukurodani’s decorated the place with owls and streamers and gold and white confetti. The managers have filled a whole table with treats, snacks, and punch. That impossible birthday cake sits in the middle, messily frosted and seventeen candles in place. There’s even a pinata in one corner of the gym.
Kuroo’s surprised at how many people have been invited; all of Fukurodani and Nekoma, the captains from training camp and even Hinata and Tsukishima have shown up. Hinata's bouncing around Bokuto, asking if there’s anything he can do to help while Tsukishima sulks in the corner, pretending to be disinterested.
Kuroo’s too sleepy to appreciate any of it. Kenma’s curled around his arm and dozing on his shoulder. Bokuto looks like he’s going to crash and pass out any minute, all jittery with tired bags under his eyes.
There’s a knock on the gym door. “Bokuto-san?”
Bokuto makes a strangled sound before, “I’m here!”
Akaashi opens the door and his remark is cut short by the sudden screaming filling the room. All of Fukurodani rushes Akaashi, Konoha and Sarukui lifting him on their shoulders. Komi tries to help, but he’s too short and ends up just reaching and cheering with Onaga and Washio. The managers hang back, clapping cheerily.
“What?” Akaashi gasps. “Bokuto-san? What is--”
Bokuto’s in the middle of a yawn as he cheers along with them. “Happy Birthday, babe!”
Konoha and Sarukui are singing horribly off-key, jostling Akaashi as they do. Komi bellows along loudest of all them, and pinches Onaga when he doesn’t join in.
“Do we have to sing too?” Kenma whispers.
“I don’t think so,” Kuroo says, watching as Akaashi turns beet-red under all the attention. “I think it’s just a dumb-owl thing.”
Konoha and Sarukui deposit Akaashi in front of the managers, who peck him once on each cheek, before he turns to everyone else in the room looking dazed. There’s a trembling look on Akaashi’s face, like he’s holding something back. He looks at Bokuto wonderingly.
“Is this what you were doing all week?” Akaashi asks, gripping the corner of Bokuto’s jacket.
Bokuto rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well--”
“Come here,” Akaashi says, tugging him down for a kiss.
Kuroo cheers along with everyone else, and for that moment alone, the bone-quaking exhaustion is worth it. Konoha’s wolf-whistle eventually breaks them apart, both blushed and looking pleased.
"Hey, hey we all helped," Komi whines. "Bokuto shouldn't get all of the credit."
"I'm not kissing you, Komi-san," Akaashi says flatly and Bokuto roars with laughter.
If Akaashi looks teary no one mentions it. He keeps himself tucked under Bokuto’s arm through most of the party, occasionally cooing over the bags under Bokuto’s eyes and showering him with small kisses. Everyone else crowds Akaashi, giving him hugs and good wishes.
Akaashi looks a little overwhelmed when Kuroo and Kenma walk up. Kuroo throws an arm around his shoulders.
"I heard you're giving out free kisses to anyone who helped," he teases. "I made the cake so--"
Akaashi shoves him off. "Nice try."
Bokuto's laugh is a little too nervous as he pulls Akaashi just a touch closer to him. "It's true though, Kuroo did bake the cake."
Akaashi looks at him appreciatively. "Thank you, Kuroo-san."
Kuroo bows dramatically and Kenma tuts in disapproval.
"It wasn't just him," Kenma says, voice a little sour. "We all helped."
"Yeah, but I made it edible," Kuroo says, smug. "I think that merits a kiss."
Akaashi rolls his eyes. "Fine."
He tipt-toes and kisses Kuroo's cheek briefly. He then turns to Kenma and does the same.
"Kisses for cake," Akaashi says, though his cheeks are a little flushed. "Happy?"
"And me, and me!" Bokuto whines.
Akaashi kisses him longest and sweetest at the corner of his mouth. "And you."
This seems to satisfy Bokuto, who nuzzles into Akaashi's hair. Kuroo feels embarrassed just looking at them, his cheek tingling.
"Alright, alright," Kuroo says. "Happy Birthday, Akaashi. Can we eat my amazing cake now?"
Amazing was probably an exaggeration. But it must be pretty good because even after Komi and Sarukui team up and smash Bokuto's face into it, people still want a piece. Lev sneaks back for seconds and gets publicly chewed out by Yaku while Inuoka fails to suppress his giggles. Akaashi kisses the cake off Bokuto’s cheeks, nose and lips while everyone politely pretends not to notice.
Lev and Hinata make a disaster over Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Owl, somehow managing to pluck Tsukishima and earning themselves well-deserved kicks in the spines. Akaashi’s happy just to watch as everyone takes a shot at the pinata. Kuroo makes a spectacular show of himself as Bokuto bobs and weaves the pinata out of his reach and it isn’t until Kenma rips the bat out of Kuroo’s hands that anyone gets any candy. Sarukui and Konoha keep fighting over who’s supposed to be the DJ and songs keep flashing between Kpop and some American band Kuroo’s never heard of, while Yaku starts up a small game of volleyball in one corner.
It’s late before Kuroo and Kenma start heading home. Hinata gives Kenma three hugs before he head's back to Lev's for for a sleepover and Yaku leaves them with a lecture about getting enough sleep before Monday’s morning practice. Kuroo’s too weary to process most of it, and it’s just happy to be heading home. Kenma’s still clinging to his arm.
“Was it worth staying up all night?” Kenma asks as they walk home. Kenma's still clinging to Kuroo’s arm.
“I think so,” Kuroo says, even though his eyes are watery with exhaustion. “Don’t you?”
Kenma nods slowly. “Yes, I think it was."
Kuroo grins.
“You’re just happy Chibi-chan showed up," he accuses.
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Tetsu,” Kenma says, leaving a kiss on Kuroo’s shoulder. “Lets go home and rest.”
Kuroo warms at the small affection and agrees.
Bokuto and Akaashi struggle to make it home. Bokuto finds it’s hard to kiss and laugh and walk all the same time and they keep having to stop and make out properly. Bokuto’s mouth already feels red and swollen as he’s pressed against a lamp-post and kissed thoroughly.
“Akaashi,” Bokuto mumbles under Akaashi’s insistent mouth. “We’re almost home, just a little further.”
Akaashi hums in acknowledgment, but doesn’t stop. He leaves sloppy kisses along Bokuto’s cheeks and jaw and chin. Akaashi's breath hitches in surprise.
“I missed some frosting,” he explains, sucking at the patch of skin. Heat curls low in Bokuto’s belly.
“Akaashi,” he whines, and Akaashi lets himself be tugged along. He’s still aiming kisses along Bokuto’s arms and chest as they clamor through the door.
“Finally,” Akaashi says, tugging off Bokuto’s coat for him. Bokuto takes Akaashi’s face in his hands and kisses him, deep and desperate. Akaashi fumbles with his own jacket.
Akaashi tenses, then breaks away, his nose wrinkled. “Is something burned?”
“Huh?” Bokuto pauses. “Oh, dammit."
Bokuto had forgotten to clean up, and since his parents were out of town for the weekend, the dishes are still undone in the sink and the five ruined cakes are still sitting in the garbage. Bokuto smacks his palm to his forehead.
“Sorry, Akaashi! Just give me a minute, I’ll take out the trash and clean up,” Bokuto says, embarrassed.
But Akaashi’s not listening. He walks into the kitchen, seeing egg on the ceiling from Bokuto’s disastrous solo attempt and dried cake batter splattered on the stove. There’s piles of flour on the floor from when Kenma slipped and dumped half of the canister on the ground and Akaashi looks at the mass of ruined cakes in the trashcan.
“Let me get that,” Bokuto says hastily, stepping in between him and the trashcan. “So not romantic, I know. But there’s chocolates upstairs and I bought roses so my room should smell okay, but I totally forgot to clean up this morning. Kuroo and Kenma were here and I was up late and I had like six missed calls from Komi and--”
Akaashi’s staring at him, an unfamiliar misty expression in his eyes. Bokuto stutters to a halt.
“--and I-- Akaashi, is-- is everything okay?”
Akaashi’s blinking rapidly, he looks away and he sniffs. Bokuto jolts in horror.
“Akaashi don’t cry! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Bokuto reaches for him. He wipes at the dampening corners of Akaashi’s eyes. “Don't cry on your birthday! Tell me what I did wrong and I’ll fix it.”
Akaashi’s laugh is nasally and wet. He shakes his head, cupping Bokuto’s face in turn.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Akaashi says. “Everything's perfect."
Bokuto watches Akaashi, lips parted. Akaashi’s soft from crying and his smile sends goosebumps along Bokuto’s skin.
"Everything's perfect," Akaashi repeats, running his thumb across Bokuto's cheekbone. "Thank you, Koutarou."
Bokuto can feel his fingers tingling, a prickling in his nose and throat. He tries to swallow the welling feeling in his chest. He kisses Akaashi's forehead.
"Happy Birthday, Keiji," Bokuto says.
And right there, with five ruined birthday cakes in the trashcan, the kitchen reeking of burned batter, and his whole body heavy with exhaustion, Bokuto agrees that everything's perfect.