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“Akaashi, tell me a secret!”
Akaashi stops picking at his food and turns to look at Bokuto sitting next to him, his eyes wide, a big smile on his face. They’re the only people on the roof this afternoon, and it’s quiet except for the pigeons cooing in the rafters.
“What do you mean, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi tries hard to keep the exasperation out of his voice. He’s not mad at Bokuto, he’s just been having a bad day in general—he’d had too much coffee last night trying to study for today’s test, had slept for less than three hours, rushed to the bus stop with a pounding headache and fingers raking through his straggly hair that he hadn’t had the time to run a brush through, only to arrive at school to the announcement that the test had been postponed. He’d made too many bad tosses during morning practice, strained his neck trying to sleep on his desk in recess, and tumbled down the stairs to the roof along with Konoha, who was ardently yelling at Bokuto not to run up them. Akaashi runs his thumb over his bruised elbow thinking about it, but he knows it would be unfair to take out his irritation on Bokuto.
“Well, I mean, tell me something you’ve never told anyone before,” Bokuto says through a mouthful of food.
That doesn’t necessarily mean ‘secret’, Akaashi thinks, extending his arm to flick a grain of rice off Bokuto’s chin. Bokuto seems to freeze for a moment, but Akaashi’s too tired to consider what that means.
“All right, then,” he says, popping a slice of hard-boiled egg into his mouth. “I haven’t finished my English homework.”
“Akaaaaaashi, that’s not a secret!” Bokuto whines.
“It was something I hadn’t told anyone.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s what you told me you meant.”
“You take things too literally.” Bokuto pouts, and his lips look soft and pink and glossy under the sun.
Akaashi tears his gaze away and decides to take pity on him. “Fine,” he says, resting his head on the wall behind them. It somewhat helps dull the throbbing in his skull as he picks which secret to spill. “I stepped on an injured butterfly once. It wasn’t a pretty sight.”
Bokuto gasps, and his hand flies to cover his mouth. “Oh my god, Akaashi,” he says. “That’s cold.”
“I still feel guilty about it,” Akaashi says, a little defensively, and looks away from him. “Anyway, it’s your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Tell me a secret.”
“Hmm.” Bokuto scrunches his face up as he thinks, and Akaashi utilises this time to pick off the green beans from his lunch box, the ones Bokuto doesn’t like, and put them in his own. He doesn’t think about how cute his nose looks all scrunched up like that, definitely not.
Bokuto finally looks up. “You remember Sawamura from Karasuno?”
“Of course.”
“Well, you can’t tell him about this the next time you see him.”
Akaashi knows he’s hit the jackpot. “I won’t tell him.”
Bokuto takes a deep breath and blows it all back out. “Phew, okay, where do I start—so Kuroo and I were practicing late one night when we were at the training camp, and when we were clearing up we found these old hockey masks in one of the gyms, and Kuroo had this brilliant idea, it was pure genius—so we put on these masks, yeah? We waited for a bit and put them on, and we managed to sneak into the classroom where Sawamura’s team was sleeping, and it was probably around… two in the morning, I don’t remember, you’d have to ask Kuroo for the particulars—so we snuck up to Sawamura’s futon, real quiet, and I poked him in the ribs a few times before he woke up and. God. Akaashi, you should’ve seen his face—how would you feel if you woke up in the middle of night to a pair of hockey masks staring down at you?”
Akaashi is smiling despite himself. “Terrified,” he says.
“Right?” Bokuto’s eyes are gleaming. “But the thing is, Sawamura didn’t even scream or anything, he literally just—whimpered, and crawled back on his futon, and I guess part of me was glad because that meant no one else would wake up, but that was so not the reaction we were expecting! It was kinda disappointing, I guess, but Kuroo and I got a good laugh out of it once we were out of the room and back in the gym, but the next day Sawamura looked like he hadn’t slept in half a year and Kuroo and I felt so bad about it, man. I even asked Hinata if his captain had said anything about weird things happening at night but he just… looked at me like he didn’t know what I was talking about? Kuroo gave Sawamura half his grilled meat during the barbecue because he felt like shit about it. It didn’t even seem like he’d told anyone, Akaashi, imagine having to carry a burden like that.”
Akaashi just looks at Bokuto as he sighs, his eyes downcast. And for some reason, he feels a laugh bubbling up in his chest, one he can’t just suppress. It’s not like him to laugh at others’ misfortunes, but he can’t help it this time, not when there’s Bokuto in just his socks and pajamas and a hockey mask tiptoeing up to Sawamura’s futon involved, and poor Kuroo pushing meat off his plate and onto Sawamura’s.
Bokuto turns to look at Akaashi in surprise, and Akaashi’s shaking with laughter as he leans to his side and rests his forehead on Bokuto’s shoulder. Of course it’s just like Bokuto to feel bad about a prank he pulled, and a flood of affection rises in Akaashi’s chest, making him feel a hundred times lighter than just a few minutes ago.
“I came close to telling him about it,” Bokuto continues, “but I remembered Hinata telling me something about how mad Sawamura can get, and I didn’t want to take any chances.”
Akaashi doesn’t raise his head from Bokuto’s shoulder, and for some reason he can’t will himself to pull the smile off his face. Suddenly, Bokuto’s fingers are in his hair, gently rubbing circles onto his scalp. It’s not an uncommon practice for them—Akaashi finds it an effective method to help Bokuto feel better after an upsetting match—but Bokuto’s never done it before. Akaashi leans into the touch, his eyes shutting close. Their lunches sit abandoned in front of them, and their knees are pressed together in a way Akaashi finds oddly comforting. He vaguely registers the muted sound of pigeons cooing. It’s peaceful. He’s still smiling.
“Your turn,” Bokuto says softly.
Akaashi wonders what he means before he realises they’re still playing the game. And he doesn’t know why, maybe it’s the unexpected rush of fondness for Bokuto speaking, but he just feels so light and heady at the same time and he releases his breath against Bokuto’s shoulder and says, “I want to kiss you.”
Bokuto’s fingers still against his scalp, and that’s enough, enough for Akaashi’s mind to jump to conclusions—I fucked up, I fucked up bad—and the headache is back, that annoying hammering against his brain; bile rises in his throat, and his pulse is so, so loud in his ears but he raises his head and looks Bokuto in the eye. “I want to kiss you,” he repeats.
It’s an understatement to say that Akaashi didn’t expect Bokuto to launch himself at his face. His eyes fly wide open when Bokuto’s nose collides with his own, hard, his fingers still in his hair, and Akaashi does his best not to yelp.
“Shit, Akaashi, sorry—” Bokuto looks absolutely appalled that he’d just hit Akaashi with his nose.
“No, wait,” Akaashi says, breathless. He gets to his knees and takes Bokuto’s face in his hands, and his eyes are wide and hopeful and Akaashi can’t help but smile as he leans forward and presses his lips against his. His angle is only slightly better—their noses are still smashed together, and Bokuto gasps when Akaashi’s teeth knock against his, but Bokuto slides his hand back into Akaashi’s hair, pulling him closer, and Akaashi needs to stop smiling so hard if they’re going to kiss properly, this isn’t working—
They jump apart when the school bell rings, signifying the end of lunch hour. Pigeons start flying out of the rafters, startled by the sound, and Akaashi just stares at Bokuto, who looks dazed but happy, and it baffles Akaashi that he’d never given a thought to the possibility that Bokuto might want this as well.
“So what was your secret?” Bokuto asks as he wraps his lunch up.
Akaashi looks at him incredulously from the stairwell doorway where he’s waiting for him. “That was my secret, Bokuto-san.”
“Oh,” Bokuto says, joining him, and he’s grinning. “Oh.”