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Bokuto had gotten used to meeting fans in public. Being a naturally social person, it never made him especially uncomfortable. As long as they were respectful and didn’t touch him by surprise, he was happy to take pictures with them.
Being touched was the only thing that really bothered him. A tap on the shoulder was fine, but a stranger’s unexpected hug or pat on the back could shut him down immediately. Akaashi was careful with him in public, always keeping a steady hand on him and making sure he didn’t get overwhelmed.
Akaashi didn’t have much to worry about. Most of the fans they ran into were kind and patient, never demanding anything that Bokuto wasn’t willing to give.
“Kou?” Akaashi knocked on the bathroom door. “You’ve been in here a while, are you okay?”
Bokuto unlocked the door and hugged Akaashi close, breathing into his hair.
“What happened?” Akaashi rubbed loving circles on his husband’s back.
Bokuto didn’t respond, looking sad all the way up to the ends of his hair.
Akaashi led Bokuto to their bed and flipped on a movie. Bokuto rarely had moments like this, but Akaashi was always prepared for it. The pro volleyball player was only a human sometimes, things got too much for him. His cheery and hyperactive demeanor had to go down once in a while.
“Did something happen, or are you just tired?” Akaashi asked after a few minutes of silence, massaging Bokuto’s scalp.
“I got a weird message.” Bokuto wiped his eyes on his husband’s shoulder.
“Can you show me?” Akaashi was on alert. Bokuto was frequently bombarded by DMs on social media that he was told not to check. “You know you’re not supposed to check those.”
“It was to my phone number.” Bokuto curled into Akaashi, his shoulders trembling.
“Can I see?” Akaashi carefully scratched behind Bokuto’s ears.
Bokuto nodded, shakily opening his phone and giving it to his lover. He started crying and couldn’t stop, shivering and biting his nails.
“Stop that,” Akaashi demanded absently, holding Bokuto’s hand as he scrolled through his phone. “Dear? This has been going on for a week, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to worry you.” Bokuto sobbed.
“You need to tell me these things; you’re so worked up now. I’m going to call the police, okay?” Akaashi kept his voice steady, leaving no room for Bokuto to assume random things.
Bokuto nodded. “Am I in trouble?”
“Not at all, Kou.” Akaashi hung the ringing phone to his head. Bokuto hid in his husband’s chest, wailing. “Kou, shh, Kou.”
Bokuto bit his lip to stifle himself.
“Hello? Yes, I’d like to report a threat my husband received online. He’s very upset, could you send an officer to our location?” Akaashi tried his hardest to calm the man in his arms. “Thank you very much.”
“Thank you.” Bokuto wiped his eyes and sat up.
“Koutarou, I’ll never let anyone hurt you,” Akaashi stated, fully confident in the fact.
“I know.” The 6’1” professional volleyball player melted in his husband’s arms, closing his eyes as he waited for a visit from the police.
Their moment of tranquility was interrupted by a violent crash. Bokuto shot up first, tensing at the noise.
“That came from downstairs.” Akaashi turned to investigate the sound, but Bokuto’s arm blocked him.
“Let me go first.” Bokuto’s footsteps were loud; he was too heavy to be stealthy.
Standing in the middle of the living room, surrounded by broken glass, was a man neither of them had ever met. Despite the circumstances, Akaashi couldn’t help but hope that insurance would cover the window.
“Who are you?” Bokuto grabbed a decorative candleholder Akaashi had gotten at a garage sale and brandished it like a sword.
“I’m your biggest fan!” The man couldn’t have been older than either of them. Bokuto didn’t recognize him as someone in the crowds during his games.
“Nuh-uh.” Bokuto’s arm shook. “Get out of my house.”
Akaashi pressed a comforting hand against Bokuto’s back, steadying him. “The police will be here soon.”
The man carried no weapons, but his manic expression and lack of respect for their privacy were threatening enough. They had no way to gauge his motivation or how far he would go.
“I looked everywhere for you!” The man got closer. “I looked through the windows of everyone in this neighborhood to find you. Once I get that husband of yours out of the way, we’ll be together forever.”
Bokuto shook harder, his bottom lip trembling as he tried to appear tough. “Nuh-uh!” He repeated. “I don’t want you.”
Akaashi remained calm. “Kou.” He whispered, “The police will be here soon. Don’t panic.”
“There’s someone in my house, how am I supposed to not panic?” Bokuto snapped. “Sorry, sorry.”
A knock on the door ended their standoff. Akaashi ran to the door as Bokuto lunged at the man, catching him before he could escape out the window.
The police arrested him on the spot. Bokuto was happy to see Sawamaru, a captain for a rival team, back in high school. He was still shaken but steady enough to give a report. Once it was all over, Akaashi drove them out to the beach and parked them in the sand.
“What are we doing there?” Bokuto asked.
“Calming you down. You’re still tense.” Akaashi leaned against his husband.
“How are you so calm?” Bokuto wondered.
“I’ve been mentally preparing for something like this to happen. I expected it would come eventually.” The sway of the waves and the gentle aroma of salt pacified Bokuto.
“I didn’t like it.” He said.
“I know.” Akaashi sighed.
“You’re the only one I want to be obsessed with me.” Bokuto pouted.
“Good thing you’re stuck with me, then.” Akaashi admired the glint of his wedding ring in the dying sunlight.
“Yeah,” Bokuto smiled. “Good thing.”