Work Text:
He shouldn’t be bothered, Akaashi thinks.
He adjusts his legs on Bokuto’s lap. They are sitting on their sofa, with Akaashi’s laptop resting on his thighs. He is typing on the keyboard, reading emails and drafting some, planning meetings and discussing deadlines which he’s been told by several of the mangakas he collaborates with, were too short compared to the amount of work their last narrative arcs required. He slides his glasses that have started to fall from the bridge of his nose back up, sight clearing as he does.
Akaashi’s hands still, hovering above the computer as he steals a few glances in front of him ; Bokuto doesn’t notice. He has a pillow under his elbows, placed on Akaashi’s calves so he can lean on it. His gaze is directed downwards, and Akaashi follows it.
He cannot catch what’s showing on Bokuto’s smartphone.
Akaashi leans his head back, onto another pillow he has put behind the sofa’s armrest. It is soft, and Akaashi allows himself to remain in that position for a brief minute.
He doesn’t really see a reason to be bothered. Bokuto is an adult, mature and independant, after all. He is Akaashi’s lover, moreso, and the man he has put his trust in since the moment he revealed to him the deepest parts of himself, his most secret feelings.
Yet it triggers something inside him. Akaashi looks again from his spot on the sofa ; Bokuto hasn’t shifted millimetres, except for his hands holding the piece of electronics he seems just as engrossed in as seconds ago.
His eyes travel up to Bokuto’s face, scrutinising it until it stops on his lips. Bokuto is smiling.
Well, Bokuto is always smiling. He somehow always manages to put that radiant grin on his face, plastered on his lips for the outside world to see and Akaashi to admire. He seems to be smiling even when he has no reason to, as if it were a pure reflex, some strange, uplifting muscle memory. A part of him.
Akaashi’s breath is smaller when he realises it’s this exact smile that is bugging him.
Why would it ever bother him ? Akaashi ponders the question. Bokuto’s smile is easily the feature that has drawn Akaashi to him in the first place, a weak heart before a luminous grin ; the key releasing a myriad of unknown, devastating emotions inside the teenager he was then. Bokuto’s smile is like home, a comforting sight he always walks to at the end of the day. He cherishes it, that soft, genuine expression on his face.
But then again, something feels off as he stares at it now. Akaashi cannot find himself to detach his gaze from Bokuto, mind already deep thinking, searching for a cause to the bitter feeling in his stomach. He contemplates his eyes, warm and golden, with the tiniest hint of blue reflecting on their cornea. And that’s how the puzzle falls into place.
It’s not Bokuto, it’s the small phone he’s holding that has a bad taste lingering in Akaashi’s mouth. Akaashi looks at it, the lights from the ceiling concealing a part of the screen behind vivid stripes, white and yellow and annoying.
Ah, he gets the problem.
He doesn’t know the reason behind Bokuto’s attitude, focused on some text, or maybe is it a picture on the phone ? Overthinking as it is, his brain has, while he himself focused on answering one of Udai Tenma’s emails imploring him to push back his deadline to tomorrow evening instead of tonight, wondered on what could interest his significant other this much, Akaashi’s presence eventually fading in the corner of Bokuto’s vision field. The thought of it feels tinted with jealousy, and it almost startles Akaashi.
Is he really being jealous of electronics ?
He shakes his head and tries to shove the thought away. Ridiculous. He knows his worth in Bokuto’s eyes, and it is certainly infinitely superior to that of a rectangle of metal. But as he thinks it, another piece adds itself in his mental tapestry.
Somebody else.
He feels jealous of what could be another person captivating Bokuto’s attention through his smartphone while Akaashi sits beside him, their legs close to tangling together.
It sounds a little less ridiculous than the first conclusion he has drawn, but still a fair amount of ridiculousness. Akaashi has no reason to worry, as Bokuto always claimed, and still does claim him as the only human being who matters in his life. He knows it in his bones, in his skin and heart ; it shows in the way Bokuto always slips sweet words in his ear as he walks behind him, or how each of his touch on Akaashi’s body feels controlled, fearful he might lose himself and just kiss and feel him until madness settles into their minds, fully indulging in their every desire. They are known as a loving pair by the world, the fusional nature of their relationship no longer new to the press and media ; Bokuto likes to remind everyone of their love still, Akaashi’s name always falling from his lips at one point or another during interviews.
Akaashi hates himself all the more for the doubt settling in the pit of his stomach, gross and uncomfortable and there.
He shuts his laptop and puts it on the small coffee table by the sofa. He folds his legs, accidentally knocking Bokuto’s phone out of his hands in the process, before he shuffles closer to Bokuto, tentatively placing a hand on his stomach, where his shirt has creased just right so he can slip his pinky underneath the hem of it.
Bokuto’s cheeks take a pink hue as he turns to Akaashi, whose face is already so close. He rests his chin on Bokuto’s shoulder, a lazy smile curling his lips.
Bokuto opens his mouth to speak, but Akaashi is faster to press a kiss to his jawline. He hears Bokuto’s breath stutter as he kisses his way down his neck, mouthing at his pulse without a warning. A strangled “Keiji !“ escapes Bokuto’s lips, his hand coming to rest on Akaashi’s cheek, cupping his face still burrowed in his collar, and over the one teasing at his shirt, pressing it further under the fabric.
“This work is being so stressing,“ Akaashi whispers, and he mentally apologises to Udai, who is probably currently working on his manga panels as he considers selling his soul in exchange of an extra day before his deadline, the absence of an answer from his editor prompting him to do so. “I really need to forget about it for some time.“ He pauses, so the words sink into Bokuto, before his lips part again. “Perhaps you would be up to having some fun together…?“
Akaashi smiles as he feels Bokuto shudder against him, his breath now on his ear making the hair on his nape stand on end. The hands holding him move, circling his narrow waist with a little more force than necessary.
Akaashi knows he has nothing or no one to feel jealous of. He is the only one Bokuto has, and ever will have eyes for.
But a little reminder won’t do him no harm…
✾
This is definitely something that should not bother him, Akaashi tries to convince himself.
Yet there he lies, covered up to his shoulders by the bed’s heavy comforter, his head burrowed deep into his massive, extra soft pillow with his arms placed haphazardly on the back of his head, trying his very best not to indulge the urge to pull at his hair until raven strands fall off.
Though he may not look like it, sleep is a sacred ritual for Akaashi. Getting to bed at a reasonable hour, reading for an hour as he sips on a warm, camomile tea. Tucking a bookmark between the pages — an old ticket he’s got when visiting a museum — before turning the bedside lamp off. Leaning back against the cool pillows as the bed sheets swallow his drained, stiff body after hours of dedicated editing sessions ; the darkness and stillness of the room the sweetest thing, appeasing his senses.
Tap tap tap
Akaashi swallows back a curse, sighing heavily into his pillow that warms up with his breath. He rolls to his side, throwing a drowsy glare at the source of the noise getting on his nerves.
Bokuto is lying on the left side of their shared bed, the collar of his pyjama’s shirt slightly pulled to one side and seeming to press on his throat, though it doesn’t seem to bother him. His nails click as his fingers touch the screen of his smartphone repeatedly. The device’s blue light softens his features as his gaze remains on it, even as Akaashi leans on his forearms to pull himself in a sitting position.
Bokuto startles as he catches a glimpse of Akaashi’s upset expression in the corner of his eye. He quickly turns his phone off, shuffling to the side so he faces Akaashi, a bright, sleepy smile making its way to his lips.
“Keiji,” he says. “Everything okay, love ?” He moves a hand, reaching Akaashi’s face and stroking his cheekbone gently. “Can’t sleep ?” he continues, his words barely a whisper.
That’s enough for Akaashi’s irritation to churn in his stomach, swelling and travelling up to his head which begins to ring in exasperation — blame the absolutely not annoying noise which has been in his ears for half an hour.
Bokuto does not whisper. He is of those people whose indoor voice equals any other people’s outdoor voice. His loudness is a signature, a significant feature in his character that keeps showing up every time his lips part to speak. Even as they go to sleep every night just like now, he will always exclaim a joyful ’Goodnight, Keiji !’ to an already dozing Akaashi, making him jump in his seat on the bed. Always apologising, always knowing it will happen again the next day.
Bokuto doesn’t whisper.
…
Something is definitely off.
“I’d normally be asleep by now,” Akaashi answers, moving back into his initial position. He closes his eyes, enjoying the absence of any image before his tired eyes.
When he opens them again, they are directed straight at Bokuto, staring with a frown. He sees Bokuto swallow.
“But someone has decided not to go to sleep yet and keeps moving right beside me.” Akaashi lifts an eyebrow. “It’s pretty difficult to relax this way.”
He looks at the way Bokuto’s shoulders slightly slump, his smile morphing into a small pout. It makes Akaashi’s heart sting, but he doesn’t dislike seeing him taking his words seriously.
He doesn’t complain as Bokuto wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him closer. Bokuto kisses his forehead, soft and silent.
“I’m sorry babe !” he says, his voice already louder than before — Akaashi recognises him better. “I didn’t mean to keep you awake ! You could’ve told me I was bothering you.”
He places another, quick peck on Akaashi’s cheek before he pulls back.
“I’ll let you sleep, I promise,” he tells him, and genuineness drips from his words. Akaashi’s expression softens.
“You should sleep too,” Akaashi says as he rolls back onto his back, adjusting the covers on his chest. Bokuto nods.
“In a minute ! Just gotta finish something real quick-“ he trails off.
A shadow of Akaashi’s anger settles back in his guts as he watches Bokuto pick up the small screen lying abandoned on the comforter.
“What’re you doing ?” Akaashi mumbles as Bokuto’s phone lightens again.
“Writing something, don‘t worry it won’t be long !”
Akaashi’s brows furrow. Did Bokuto just… avoid the topic ?
“Can I see ?” he asks, shuffling and resting his head against Bokuto’s arm, peeking over it to look at the smartphone.
But as his eyes barely take in the sight of the green and black-coloured screen, Bokuto quickly moves it aside, hiding it from Akaashi as he shouts, “No !”
The room becomes silent for a moment ; Akaashi should have been happy about it. Yet right now the absence of words feel overwhelming rather than soothing.
Bokuto is quick to snap out of the shock and leans forward, tackling an already lying Akaashi against the mattress, snuggling close. He looks up, eyes gleaming with remorse.
“Wait, I’m sorry ! I meant- I, I’m gonna show you, of course I am, but- not now ! I can’t now ! Please don’t be mad at me !”
Akaashi doesn’t speak as Bokuto splutters apologies. His brain only partially registers all that is happening at the same time.
Eventually, his arms slide up Bokuto’s body and come to wrap around his neck, pulling him into a hug.
“It’s fine,” Akaashi whispers. “Just… let’s go to sleep, okay ?”
Bokuto nods against Akaashi’s neck, and it’s a silent response that is very unlike him. It has Akaashi’s heart clenching in his chest a little.
They fall asleep in each other’s arms this night, Akaashi’s head resting on Bokuto’s shoulder. His breath is even.
Akaashi can’t manage to forget how distraught Bokuto has sounded.
✾
It all gets clear on a Thursday evening.
Akaashi is at home, waiting for Bokuto to come back from practice. This is a routine of them ; Akaashi starting work earlier and ending just as early, while Bokuto’s practices tend to extend until the evening, his mornings slower as they often start around ten, the sun already high in the sky.
It is common for them to have a shared dinner, prepared by Akaashi as Bokuto takes public transports, coming back to his love and the mouth-watering scents of freshly cooked meals. They will eat on their small table, fond smiles exchanged as both of them tell their days in turn, soft music playing in the back — they love the cosy ambiance it provides the apartment.
Akaashi picks up the container in the rice cooker, careful not to burn himself both by using potholders and not placing his head right above the steaming bowl. He puts it on the table mat, covering the top with an upside down plate. He goes to retrieve the pan on the hotplates next, golden omelettes having his stomach making it known that it is hungry.
He sets the table, knives and chopsticks next to each other, empty bowls facing each other on both ends of the table. He fills two glasses with water, and turns the teapot on, knowing warm infusions will be welcomed after a nice meal.
He hears Bokuto a long time before he sees him. The loud thump against the front door makes him wonder if he just crashed into it by some kind of miracle. The door is being unlocked as Akaashi enters the hall, soft slippers silent against the parquet.
The door opens, and it hasn’t even slammed shut when Akaashi is being tackled to the ground — this shall not become a habit of Bokuto’s, Akaashi’s brain is quick to think.
But then he looks up, and his eyes fall on a tensed expression, worried and… sad ?
Bokuto’s brows are furrowed, the skin between them wrinkling more each second, and his lips are drawn into a tight line, yet it seems quivering. His eyes are big, pupils small. They’re shining. It’s when Akaashi realises his lover is on the verge of crying.
“Oh, Kou,“ he says, a hand sliding up and cradling Bokuto’s face. “What’s wrong ?“
Bokuto blinks, and it’s forced back, the tears that threaten to run down his cheeks. He inhales, shaking.
“Are you okay ? He didn’t hurt you ?“ It’s almost a scream, one that alerts Akaashi.
He makes Bokuto stand, thanking him when he pulls him to his feet then. Akaashi grabs Bokuto’s hands, thumbs stroking them gently as he speaks.
“Of course I’m okay. What makes you think I wouldn’t be ?“
“He told me ! He would- he would come to our house, and kidnap you, and- it’d be my fault !“ Bokuto’s voice is trembling, his shoulders shaken by the small hiccups that start to bubble out of his throat.
Akaashi is quick to react, reaching out and slipping his arms around Bokuto’s neck, pulling him in. The strength of the grip of large hands on Akaashi’s body tells him all he needs to know about Bokuto’s current state : he is terrified.
“It’s okay,“ he murmurs, stroking Bokuto’s back as a few tears dampen one of Akaashi’s shirt sleeves. “Take a deep breath with me, please.“
Bokuto nods, inhaling deeply with his nose against Akaashi’s shoulder. He follows the rhythm of Akaashi’s breathing, his body slowly drained from its state of panic. Akaashi draws back then.
“Who said this to you, love ? I can call the police and report them. Nothing will happen to me, or to you.“ Akaashi kisses Bokuto’s lips, slow and gentle, not to frighten him. “Promise.“
Bokuto’s arms fall on his sides, and he sighs, resting his forehead against the point where Akaashi’s shoulder meets his neck.
“It’s Duo.“
The name sounds familiar to Akaashi, though he can’t figure out why. Probably because it is a word, but he is pretty sure Bokuto isn’t referring to a group of two people designed by a common term, but rather one being.
“Who’s Duo ?“ he asks then, to verify it.
Bokuto lifts his head abruptly. “The owl ! You know, the green one !“ He quickly shoves his hand inside the pocket of his coat, pulling out his phone.
He unlocks it, and shows the screen to Akaashi. His thumb points to an app, its design a green, cartoonish owl. It is, indeed, of a saturated green that the bright screen emphasises. Akaashi’s eyes squint as he looks at it.
Akaashi frowns a bit. “This is Duo ?“
“Yes !“
“And Duo is the person who threatened you ?“ he continues.
“He did !“ Bokuto nods vigorously. “Keiji, are you sure you’re alright ? Did you check no one was in the apartment ?“ He grabs Akaashi by the shoulders, starting to check on him that he isn’t hurt anywhere.
“You mean someone like Duo ?“ Akaashi asks, as Bokuto lifts his shirt to check on his stomach and sides. He swats his hands away. “Hey, stop that.“
“Yes ! Duo !“ Bokuto exclaims, ignoring Akaashi’s last remark as he rounds him so he can place his hands back on Akaashi, this time checking his back, focusing on his spine.
Akaashi turns around. He cups Bokuto’s face in his hands — rather violently considering the sound his palms colliding with the skin makes — and locks their gazes.
“I hope you know that Duo isn’t a real person… right ?“
It seems he doesn’t, from the way bewilderment suddenly strikes Bokuto’s face. His eyes go wide, and his jaw slackens in Akaashi’s hold. “Duo is real.“
“He’s not. He is a mascot. Of a language learning app.“ Akaashi’s expression is blank as he tells him that. Bokuto squirms away from him.
“But, Keiji ! There are videos !“ He grabs his phone again, shoving it in Akaashi’s face no more than three seconds later. A video is playing, its main subject a greenish owl in a street, standing next to a small van as it flaps his wings on its sides. Some — honestly concerning — text is written in the description. “Told you, he’s real !“
Akaashi suppresses a sigh, allowing himself to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “That’s a real person dressed up as Duo.“
Bokuto gasps dramatically. “Is it ?!“
“Bokuto-san, do you really think green owls the size of a grown adult exist ?“
Bokuto seems to be shrinking, hiding his head between his shoulders — there has been a time hearing his family name from Akaashi’s mouth was a normal occurrence ; now though, it is reserved for occasions when Akaashi’s patience reached its limit, or at least came close to. He swallowed.
“I…“ he trails off. “Oh my god, I’m so stupid.“
The words have Akaashi’s expression softening. He strokes Bokuto’s cheek, fingertips barely brushing the skin. “No you’re not. Don’t say that.“
Bokuto shakes his head. “I’m sorry Keiji !“ His hands move around as he speaks, words mixing together. “I didn’t know about the threats and I missed my streak once- wait, no I didn’t, but it was close ! And then I got this notification and it was Duo and he told me he would hurt you if I forgot the daily lesson and- I freaked out ! I didn’t think, just came rushing home and you were there and- and I was so scared ! Oh my god I haven’t done the lesson yet-“
“Alright, Kou.“ Akaashi puts his hand over Bokuto’s mouth, muffling the last few words he speaks. “I think I understand. This is just a joke between the app’s staff and its users.“
“That’s what I just understood too !“ Bokuto’s shoulders sag, his hair seeming to deflate a little on his head as he sighs. “I just, didn’t think about it when I read the message.“
“It’s okay. Such words are scary, even from a fictional mascot.“ Akaashi pauses. “Honestly, such dark jokes shouldn’t be made on an online platform like this one. It may scare a lot of people as well, especially young ones.“
“But, Keiji,“ Bokuto retorts, and one of his eyebrows lifts up. “You have like, the darkest humour ever.“
Akaashi can’t help his chuckle. “Maybe I do. But I use it around people I know won’t misunderstand it. And I don’t joke about dark stuff around children !“
Bokuto nods, a grin starting to spread on his lips. He takes a step forward, circling Akaashi’s middle with his arms. “I know. My sarcastic, dark-humoured darling.“ He laughs in Akaashi’s neck, and Akaashi rolls his eyes fondly. “Hey, I’m sorry for coming home to you like this. I’m glad you’re safe.“
Akaashi’s lips part, but no sound comes out. He smiles, and returns the embrace he’s being given.
“It’s fine. Just tell me whenever something similar happens. So we can figure things out together, just like we did here.“
“Yeah,“ Bokuto breathes. “Yeah, I will.“
They pull back. Akaashi places a hand on his hip, a small smirk forming on his lips.
“Now, should we head to the kitchen ? Dinner’s ready, and I wanna know what you’ve been up to with those language lessons.“
Akaashi turns around, and he has time to hear Bokuto gasp before he exits the apartment’s entrance, reaching the kitchen as footsteps tell him he’s being followed. He stops at the kitchen’s threshold ; Bokuto’s chest bumps against Akaashi’s back.
“Oops,“ Bokuto says as he grabs Akaashi’s waist, stabilising them both. “Desculpe-me, love.“
Akaashi’s eyes fly to Bokuto’s face, his upper body turning in his direction as he asks, “Say that again ?“
“Sinto muito, Keiji. I keep running into you.“ Bokuto’s grin is smug on his face, and his eyes glint with a mischief that has Akaashi confused and also, he must admit it, a little warm. “Are you okay ?“
Akaashi’s lips morph into a smile. “You’ll need more than this to knock me out,“ he teases back. “Is this what you’ve been learning with Duo ?“
Bokuto smiles wider, proud to show his lover a new skill he had no idea he had developed. “I’m learning Portuguese ! For our matches away ! Isn’t it so cool ?! Hinata told me about that app to help me learn the basics and I’ve been doing these lessons for about a month now and I was planning to surprise you and-“ He stops.
“And you hadn’t planned to show me just yet ?“ Akaashi voices Bokuto’s last thought.
“Yeah…“
So that was why he hid his phone away whenever Akaashi tried to look at what he was doing on it.
“I see. But, you know, Koutarou…“ Akaashi whispers. He turns around, Bokuto’s grip gentle enough so he can make his hands slide around his waist and settle on his hips when he is facing him ; Akaashi’s hands travelling up Bokuto’s chest and shoulders until they find his nape, twirling soft, grey hair around each finger as he leans in. “This is very impressive to me.“
“You think so ?“ Bokuto’s cheeks flush a soft pink.
Akaashi moves closer, until he is sure his words will fall directly into Bokuto’s ear. “You’re amazing, my love.“ He relishes in the way Bokuto shivers.
As he drags Bokuto into the kitchen, where steaming plates wait for them, Akaashi makes himself a mental note to check out this language learning app. Perhaps he could try and impress his boyfriend too…