Archive of Our Own

Akaashi Keiji had a plan.

It was a complicated plan. Probably a lot more complicated than it needed to be. There were a lot of moving parts, a number of different unknown outcomes and disastrous possibilities. And for someone like Keiji, all of that unsteadiness was terrifying.

But Keiji was determined to see it through.

It was mid-March. Meaning, Keiji’s best friend in the entire world, Bokuto Koutarou, would be graduating from university in just over a week. And less than a week after that, the man would be picking up his entire life and moving to Osaka to start his career as a professional volleyball player.

Landing a spot on the MSBY Black Jackals, a Division I team that had been on a winning streak for the past few years and consistently produced National Team members, was a momentous achievement. Keiji was aware of his biases—he’d known that Bokuto was a star since he first laid eyes on him, after all—but he truly believed it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person.

Sighing, Keiji looked down at his planner. The dates leading up to and immediately following Bokuto's graduation were completely filled. In his distinctive script were reminders about packing his suitcase, wrapping gifts, making dinner reservations for Friday, and more. He’d jotted down an outfit schedule in the margins. There were other reminders to help Bokuto with his move, and putting together a solid meal plan for his first month in Osaka.

And, in the smallest print imaginable at the bottom of the week, Keiji had written a single line:

Practice your speech every day!

It had to be perfect. Flawless. He’d worked on this confession for months, choosing each word meticulously and allowing himself to be more vulnerable than ever before. After all, his feelings had been building for over five years now. What was the point of holding anything back?

Again, Keiji sighed, leaning in to jot down one last reminder for Saturday morning about purchasing a bouquet before the ceremony. He had a vague idea of which flowers he wanted to include in the arrangement. No daisies, of course, due to Bokuto's allergies. Lilies would also be a problem. He might like something with baby’s breath, or sunflowers. Maybe he should just—

“This is excessive, Keiji.”

Keiji startled and shut the planner. He shot a scowl at Kenma, who had suddenly appeared at his elbow without a single sound. Seriously, his roommate could land a career as an assassin with how quietly he moved around a room!

“Shut it,” Keiji snapped, trying to push down his embarrassment. “I’m trying to cover all of my bases here.”

“You don’t have to, though. Deep down you must know that.”

Keiji frowned as his friend continued.

"All this planning, this proving your feelings for him, you don't need it."

"Ken—"

"You could flick Bokuto on the nose and scream, ‘Date me, you idiot!’ and he’d immediately fall at your feet.”

Keiji almost scoffed. “You don’t know what you're talking about."

Kenma groaned, long and drawn out, before retreating back to their shared kitchen. Keiji heard the sound of the refrigerator opening and closing, and a cup of something being poured into a glass. He remained still, staring down at the front of his planner as he pondered his friend’s words.

Nothing about Bokuto's behavior warranted Kenma’s assurance. Sure, the man had come out as bisexual a couple of years ago. He'd actually told Keiji first, and asking for advice on how to explain his identity to other friends and family.

But since then, Bokuto had only briefly dated one person—a young woman from one of his college classes—and he never really mentioned who else he found attractive, except for the occasional comment on a celebrity or other public figure.

He’d given little to no indication that he liked Keiji in that way.

And why should he? 

Keiji was fairly confident in his looks. He’d been called hot, handsome, beautiful even. He was tall and maintained an athletic physique, despite not playing volleyball anymore, through occasional jogs and a daily yoga practice. Even his recent adoption of prescription glasses had only increased the amount of propositions by people of all genders.

But the thing is, well, if Keiji was being honest with himself…

None of those people are Bokuto Koutarou.

“Listen,” Kenma said, once again interrupting Keiji’s turbulent thoughts. “I know you’re scared. I get that. But even if Bokuto doesn’t like you in that way, which I don't believe for the record, it’s not like he’s going to stop being your best friend. If he did, you know I’d beat him up.”

Keiji laughed nervously, the tension in his shoulders lessening a bit.

“Anyway,” Kenma added, leaning down to send Keiji a pointed look. “Isn’t it worse to have never said anything at all?”

“Akaashi! I’m over here, 'kaashi!”

Unable to stop his heart from skipping, Keiji spun on his heel. Bokuto was hurrying towards him across the train platform, frantically waving his arms. Keiji winced as the man nearly ran into a small elderly person with a cane, and also narrowly missed whacking someone else in the face.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto called out again, and the closer he got the more Keiji felt like the thick storm clouds above him were parting. His best friend’s smile was the sun, full stop, and Keiji didn’t even care how cliche the comparison was anymore.

There were only a few train stops between his and Bokuto's universities. Keiji had seen him just a few weeks ago. But every single time they met, he was floored with how much the man had grown into himself. Physically, mentally, emotionally… Keiji was so proud, and completely head over heels.

The hug was tighter than usual. Keiji wheezed as the man’s massive biceps enveloped him. But Keiji didn't care. He was in heaven, with his nose buried into warm skin. He inhaled deeply. Crisp mint and lemongrass filled his senses.

“I missed you!” Bokuto cried. 

“Yes,” Keiji nodded into his neck. “Me too.”

They arrived at the apartment to find Kuroo splayed across the couch, looking altogether exhausted. Moving boxes covered the floor and nearly every other flat surface, most of them taped shut but some haphazardly packed, with items spilling out the top. 

“Finally!” Kuroo groaned, moving so that he was practically upside down on the cushions. “Bo, you bastard, you left me to finish packing the heavy shit!”

“I told you I was going to pick up 'kaashi!”

“You’ve been gone for almost an hour!”

“Yeah, well,” Bokuto cleared his throat, glancing at Keiji furtively. “I was just excited so I got there sort of early! But I’m back now!”

They bantered a bit more, and Keiji couldn't help but grin at the familiar display. The two had been roommates since their first semester of college. He knew how much they were going to miss each other once Bokuto moved away. Now Kuroo would be getting a smaller place near the JVA headquarters, where he'd be interning soon.

Eventually, with a promise to help Kuroo after lunch, Keiji followed Bokuto down the hall to the former’s bedroom. Keiji was eager to go over their weekend schedule. He wanted to be sure things aligned so he could move forward with his plan.

I'm going to do it, he silently proclaimed to himself, I'm going to tell him—

Keiji stopped dead in his tracks as they entered the room. His jaw dropped in shock as he scanned the space.

“Bokuto-san...”

“Um, yes?”

“Have you even started packing up your room?!” 

Only a few boxes were full, the rest still flat and leaning against the wall. Said walls were covered in posters and photos. His bookshelf was filled with textbooks, manga and video games. Thanks to half-open drawers, Keiji spotted how the dresser was still stuffed with clothes.

“Gwaah! I know!” Bokuto whined dramatically, falling back onto his bed (which was just as covered in plushies as the last time Keiji visited). “I’m just so overwhelmed! I don’t even know where to start!”

Keiji sighed. He’d planned for this, of course. He’d made sure his own schedule was completely free and taken the earliest train possible. They had plenty of time before their dinner reservation later.

“We’d better get to work, then,” Keij said, moving towards the man’s overflowing closet. "Come on."

Bokuto looked up. He blinked. His mournful expression quickly melted, and the smile that stretched across his face was so wide it revealed that elusive dimple on the right side of his face.

Keiji allowed himself to smile back as wide as he wanted. After all, there was no reason not to anymore.

I’m going to confess to this man, Keiji affirmed to himself. I’m going to tell him I love him. 

When Bokuto accepted his diploma, he immediately turned to beam at Keiji.

The eye contact nearly sent Keiji toppling over onto the damp grass. It was akin to the feeling Keiji had when he first saw the boy flying through the air, that fateful day years ago. A blast of cold water to the face, he’d described it as then. A shock to the system.

But now, after five years of getting to know the man, learning all of his quirks, experiencing his kindness, his passion...

Unlike in high school, Keiji was now entirely, devastatingly in love with his best friend. He felt like his emotions were close to boiling over, like a tea kettle ready to scream. Under Bokuto's intense gaze—paired with that megawatt smile—the pressure was overwhelming.

Keiji refrained from hurrying to Bokuto before his family got the chance. He didn’t want to seem too eager. It would look odd, right? He hovered on the sidelines as the entire Bokuto clan (parents, sisters, a cousin and two grandparents) lined up to congratulate their youngest member on his accomplishment. A group hug developed, with Bokuto—Koutarou, that is—in the middle of it. Keiji heard him laugh, boisterous and free.

And then—

“Keiji-kun! Get over here, sweetheart!”

Two sets of strong arms grabbed him and suddenly, he was gently thrust into the large group. Bokuto's mother kept her hands on his shoulders as the rest of the family made room. Touched, he glanced up to find his best friend looking down at him softly, eyes glistening just a touch.

“Congratulations, Bokuto-san,” Keiji muttered shyly. He knew for sure his ears had turned pink. The man just smiled back.

They eventually found some alone time.

They took a stroll around the large campus, inevitably ending up in front of the college’s large volleyball gym. For a moment, Keiji thought his friend was going to ask him to sneak into the closed building and set him some tosses.

Instead, Bokuto stopped in front of the gym doors. “Osaka isn’t that far,” he stated. Keiji looked up, surprised, to find Bokuto only a couple of paces away, looking down at Keiji quite seriously. The man’s brow was set in a firm expression. “It's only a quick trip on the Shinkansen.”

Keiji blinked. “Two and a half hours. I know.”

“Good,” he replied, nodding. “I don’t plan on us losing touch, Akaashi.”

Keiji nodded back. 

“Because, well,” Bokuto shuffled in places awkwardly, visibly swallowing. “You’ve done so much for me! I wouldn’t have gotten to this point without you. I don’t want us to ever grow apart, okay? I can’t not have you in my life...”

For a moment, Keiji could only stare. He knew this wasn't a confession. It couldn’t be. But Bokuto's obvious devotion to their friendship felt close enough to one to make him breathless.

“B-Bokuto-san,” he stuttered. “Of course we won’t. I… you…” 

You mean the entire world to me, Keiji almost blurted out, but instead he fell silent. He couldn’t say it right now. Not yet. He had a plan. Bokuto Koutarou deserved the best. The most heartfelt, earnest confession ever.

Tomorrow he’d tell Bokuto everything. No matter his answer, he would finally reveal to his best friend how much he loved him.

“Great!" Bokuto's serious face melted into a silly grin. Then, of course, he cocked his head in the direction of the gym. "So, wanna give me a boost up into the window? We have a whole hour before maintenance usually shows up."

Keiji sighed.

"Fine."

“You drink too much coffee, ‘kaashi.”

Keiji scowled over the rim of his cup as he took another sip of latte. “I’m a double major, Bokuto-san, who also works part time and tutors on the side. I need this to stay cognizant.”

Bokuto silently mouthed the word cognizant with a focused look. “Hmm,” he said, tapping his nails on his soda bottle. “That’s fair.”

They were currently at the local shopping mall, running through some final lists for Bokuto’s move. The outing had somewhat gone off the rails—a few random detours that put them behind schedule. Keiji was starting to stress. They didn’t have much time before Keiji had to be back home and preparing for the next step.

“Since Kuroo’s taking the vacuum, you’ll need to get one as soon as you arrive in Osaka,” Keiji said. “I emailed you some recommendations.”

"Okay."

“Also, you should get a backup set of linens,” Keiji added, mentally cycling through his list. “And a rice cooker.”

“Right.”

“Have you thought of getting a calendar for your entryway? It’d be handy to keep track of your schedule, and when bills are due.”

“Sure…”

“Phone reminders are also a help. I always make sure to…” Keiji trailed off when he saw the expression on his friend’s face. Bokuto was grinning warmly, head tilted to the side. Keiji blinked. “W-what is it?”

Bokuto shrugged. “It’s just sort of sweet, you know? How worried you are for me.”

Keiji blanched. Sweet? Bokuto called him sweet? What?

“But you know,” Bokuto continued, “that It'll be okay, right? I keep telling you, I’m a normal ace now!”

Keiji had wondered, for years now, why his friend kept calling himself “normal.” Bokuto was the least normal person Keiji had ever met, and he meant that as a compliment. If Bokuto had been “normal” Keiji wouldn’t have fallen in love with him.

“I just… want to help,” he admitted honestly, pushing down his blush. “You’ll be in a brand new city, in your own apartment for the first time, with new responsibilities, and…”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I have no doubt you’ll succeed,” Keiji cleared his throat. “You’re amazing, Bokuto-san. I just…” He trailed off, unsure what he wants to say. This conversation wasn't planned. He had wanted to spend today showing Bokuto that he was supportive, organized. Someone that he could depend on, even from far away.

Instead he was stumbling over his words awkwardly and—

"You know,” Bokuto said. “I will really miss your cooking."

Keiji blinked. "My cooking?"

Bokuto nodded. "Yeah! Especially your miso soup. It's almost as good as my mom's! Maybe you could... I don't know... bring me some of your homemade dishes sometime? When you visit."

"Oh," Keiji bit his lip to keep from grinning like a loon. "Yes. Of course I could do that."

Bokuto took a swig of his soda, lips grinning around the neck of the bottle as he continued to gaze at Keiji. And Keiji was buzzing, on fire, wanting so badly to turn and leap into the man’s arms without a second thought. But he kept himself in check. They had a lot more to do.

Ripping his gaze away from the human sun next to him, Keiji pointed to a store just ahead.

"Let’s find some new house slippers for you, Bokuto-san. Your current pair are full of holes...”

Bokuto Koutarou’s send-off party to Osaka was a massive affair.

Like every event hosted by the Bokuto family, it was not only chock full of family members and friends, but influential people from the local community. Their massive house was decorated to the hilt. They’d even hired a jazz band and a professional photographer.

Keiji had been completely blindsided, the first time he attended one of these events. It was for Bokuto's 18th birthday. Keiji had stupidly shown up in jeans and a pair of beat-up loafers. The family hadn’t seemed to care, welcoming him warmly and never showing an ounce of judgment. It signaled to Keiji that their home was open to all. A safe space. Somewhere he could be himself.

This time, though, Keiji made sure to come prepared.

He’d spent a week straight coming up with his outfit: A pair of dark slacks, high-waisted to show off his long legs. A white button-up, tucked in with the top three buttons open, exposing part of his collarbones. A pair of suede ankle boots. A new pair of silver wire-rimmed glasses. He’d artfully tousled his hair with gel for the first time in months. 

It wasn’t just any occasion, after all. Keiji was planning to confess tonight. In the most romantic way possible. He had to look the part.

When Keiji arrived, Bokuto's eldest sister gasped and literally twirled him in place. “Keiji-kun!” She squealed. “Oh my gosh! You look incredible!”

He grinned proudly. “Thank you, Kai. You do, as well.”

“Kou is busy helping mom with the appetizers! Oh my gosh,” she said again, “I need to be there when my brother sees you in this outfit…”

The man did not disappoint. As soon as Keiji stepped into the kitchen, there was a loud crash as Bokuto dropped an entire platter of utensils. 

“Koutarou!” His mother chided, but immediately her disposition softened as she saw Keiji. She cooed at him and made him bend down so she could kiss his cheek. Keiji smiled, then looked up to find his best friend staring at him with wide, wonderstruck eyes.

“Keiji,” he visibly gulped. “Wow. I mean, um, h-hey.”

Keiji bit back another smile. “Hi.”

The entire night, Bokuto stuck to his side like glue. He fetched Keiji drinks and snacks. Gossipped with him about the other guests. Whenever they ran into someone Keiji didn't know, Bokuto introduced him excitedly with a gentle grip on the shoulder. At one point, as they maneuvered through the party, he slid his hand down to the small of Keiji’s back. The touch sent a familiar shiver down Keiji’s spine.

It was encouraging behavior. Hope-inducing. Keiji tried his best not to get ahead of himself.

You don't know for sure how he feels...

At 9 o'clock sharp, Keiji put the final part of his plan into motion. He first mentioned he needed some fresh air. Unsurprisingly, Bokuto followed him upstairs and onto the back balcony, which overlooked a small plot of gardens behind the house.

They settled in, leaning forward on the rail side by side. The air was cold but Keiji felt like he was burning up. Perhaps it was the two cocktails he’d just consumed. The warm fabric of his dress shirt. Or maybe it was the fact that that Bokuto's shoulder was suddenly pressing into his like a branding iron.

This is the moment.

It was absolutely perfect: A beautiful setting, with jazz music from the band playing in the distance. They both wore fancy party clothes (Bokuto looked dashing in a brown pinstripe suit jacket). Even the stubborn storm clouds had parted, giving them a dazzling view of the bright, half-full moon.

Everything he'd planned, led up to this. All his years of pining, his months of practice, the schedule he'd concocted meticulously over the past week.

Now is your chance, Keiji reminded himself. Right now.

But Keiji was hesitating. Like he always did. He could feel his anxiety strangling him, messing with his once solid resolve. It was doing what it did best—making him second guess everything.

“Um, Akaashi? Are you okay?”

Keiji sucked in a breath and nodded. Swallowing down his fear, he slowly pushed himself up and turned to face Bokuto, who followed his lead. Suddenly, they were toe-to-toe. Keiji could see the yellow lights of the house reflected in his friend’s shining, curious eyes.

Oh, those eyes. They had always been one of Keiji’s biggest weaknesses. He remembered the first time he’d been on the receiving end of Bokuto's gaze. It had nearly stolen the breath from Keiji’s lungs. It often still did, all these years later.

What would he even do without those eyes? That beautiful smile? Would Keiji still be Keiji without the privilege of Bokuto Koutarou’s attention? What would be left of him?

You could lose it all.

“Seriously, 'kaashi, you’re kinda freaking me out,” Bokuto chuckled nervously, rocking back on his heels. “Is there something wrong?”

Keiji shook his head. “Yes! I mean, no!” He cleared his throat. “I’m fine. Really.”

Bokuto didn’t seem convinced. His brow furrowed, and Keiji’s fingers twitched, wanting to smooth out the little crease there. He loved that little crease. He loved everything about that handsome face.

Keiji opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

He took in a shaky breath.

The words “I’m in love with you” were on the tip of his tongue when suddenly, devastatingly, the balcony doors were forcefully shoved open. 

They both flinched and stepped back. A gust of cold air seemed to shoot through the space between them, and Keiji nearly choked in despair.

“There you guys are!” Kana, the middle child, was standing in the doorway. “Kou, Mom’s been looking for you for ages! She wants a family photo! Keiji can join, of course. Hurry! The photographer is only hired for another half hour!”

Kana said everything in one breath and was gone again in a flash. For a few beats, Keiji and Bokuto were both silent. Keiji was aware that he was in shock. He’d been so afraid a few minutes ago, but pushed down all of that fear so that he could confess. He’d been about to!

“Sorry,” Bokuto cleared his throat. Keiji glanced up and saw the man smiling weakly. “Did you want to say..?”

Shaking his head, Keiji tore his gaze away. "No, um. It's nothing. Really."

Bokuto went silent again before sighing. "All right," he muttered, and Keiji wondered if he was imagining the disappointment in his voice. "Guess we'd better head downstairs, then." 

Dejected, Keiji could only nod and follow his friend back inside.

Bokuto was leaving in three days.

Bokuto Koutarou was leaving for Osaka in just three days, and Keiji still hadn’t confessed to him. 

Keiji’s determination had completely crumbled by the end of the family’s party on Sunday. He just couldn’t get Bokuto alone again, and the more he saw how happy and excited he was for his new adventure, the more Keiji felt guilty.

What if he’d ruined his friend's good mood? Whatever his response to Keiji would’ve been, they’d be separated for the foreseeable future. If he'd rejected him, they'd have more than just miles straining their friendship. And if he'd accepted? A long distance relationship. Which could easily become messy and unstable.

What was the point of complicating things?

Keiji glared down at his daily planner. The stupid thing that was supposed to have made everything work out. He’d taken so much care and written everything down! He'd committed! Promised himself! And yet, when the time had come, Keiji chickened out.

Will I ever have another chance?

Keiji paced his living room. Kenma was hanging out with Kuroo, so he was left alone in the apartment with his nerves. Never a good thing. He’d already burnt a boxed mac ‘n cheese dinner, and picked his nails raw. He cursed, kicking the back of the couch. He winced as he stubbed his toe. Seething, he limped over and flopped down face-first.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?!” He yelled into the cushions. "I'm pathetic!"

It took quite a while, close to an hour, but eventually Keiji’s head started to clear. It wasn’t totally hopeless, right? He just had to create a new plan. He could regroup, and come up with some ideas.

Maybe he should scan through his calendar for a new milestone, or holiday, or wait for a special accomplishment that Bokuto wanted to celebrate. Or could even take a trip to Osaka and romantically confess to him over a homemade dinner.

They were still young. Keiji had plenty of time. He could figure this out and then they would—

Buuuuzzzz.

Keiji blinked. Was that his doorbell? He sat up and stared at his door for a few moments, just to be sure.

Buuuuzzzz.

Okay. Yeah, that was his door. Keiji sighed. It was probably just a neighbor or delivery driver. Had Kenma ordered something? Grumpy, Keiji shuffled to the door and yanked it open.

He gasped. 

"Bokuto-san?!”

“Hey, 'kaashi.” Bokuto, looking altogether exhausted, grinned. “Mind if I come in?”

Shocked, Keiji just nodded, stepping back to make room. He was suddenly very aware how cluttered the apartment was, and of the fact he was wearing a pair of ratty old yoga leggings and a cheese-stained t-shirt.

“I, um, wasn’t expecting you tonight...” Keiji hurried over to clean up the unsightly mess in the kitchen. It was so embarrassing! “We had plans for tomorrow, right? A konbini run and a reservation at that new owl cafe?”

“'kaashi.”

 “I can order some noodles tonight, if you want. Or pizza? We don’t have much food to cook in here.”

“Akaashi…”

“Kenma won’t be back till later, so we could probably use his console to play the new—”

“Keiji!”

Koutarou’s voice was very close. As Keiji spun around, he nearly crashed into his friend’s broad chest. “S-sorry,” he stammered, but Bokuto only chuckled, reaching out to steady him. The warmth of his hands on Keiji’s forearms and their suddenly proximity sent Keiji’s heart racing.

“Keiji,” Bokuto said his first name again, and this time, Keiji took a moment to properly look at him. The man was wearing a soft-looking but threadbare sweater. His hair was down, not styled, and slightly damp. Keiji resisted scolding him for not drying off properly.

He looked so cute and cozy and real—

“You have something to tell me, don’t you?”

Keiji blinked dumbly. “Huh?”

“On Sunday. You were going to say something to me. At the party.”

Oh. 

Keiji’s heartrate kicked up another notch. He couldn’t tell him now, right? No, it wasn’t the right time! Keiji was flustered, his thoughts were everywhere, his toe was still throbbing. He was altogether unprepared.

So, he shook his head. “It was nothing, like I said—”

“No," Bokuto said at once. "It was important. I could tell.”

“Bokuto,” he pleaded.

“Don’t you know?” He chuckled again. “I’ve become pretty good at reading you, Akaashi Keiji. I know when you’ve got something on your mind.”

Keiji deflated. He didn’t really have a retort for that. The silence stretched between them for a while, and Keiji tried to rearrange his thoughts. He might not be able to get out of this. Was there something else he could tell Bokuto? No, he didn't want to lie. That would make things even worse...

"I haven't slept much the last couple nights," Bokuto admitted, prompting Keiji to glance up in concern. "I've been so busy with the move, and family stuff, but every night... I can't stop thinking about how you were looking at me on the balcony, Keiji. I've never seen you look at me like that."

"Sorry," Keiji breathed. "I'm so sorry I worried you." 

The man shook his head. "You didn't! I just want you to say what you were going to say back then. Can you do that for me, Keiji?"

Could he? Keiji wasn't so sure. It still didn’t feel right. He wanted this confession to be perfect. To be worthy of the amazing man standing in front of him. The man he cared for and loved so much.

“I know you can do it.” Koutarou moved even closer into his orbit. Suddenly, he was reaching out for Keiji hands, easily sliding their palms together. “Go ahead.”

Keiji froze. He blinked. He stared down at their joined hands, and then back up at Bokuto. The man seemed nervous but resolved, and his eyes shone with a strange kind of mirth that Keiji had never seen from him before.

Keiji narrowed his own eyes, brain processing for a few tense moments.

Why does he look like he...

All at once, everything clicked.

“You know!" Keiji exclaimed, gasping. “You already know what I was going to say to you at the party on Sunday!"

“I mean...” Koutarou replied, his crooked grin widening.

“You knew that I’ve been trying to c-confess to you?"

"Well, yeah, for a while now."

"Dammit, Bokuto!”

Koutarou winced. “I’m sorry! Really! I just didn’t want to interrupt or ruin your plans! I know you love making plans...”

Keiji glared. “You are absolutely insufferable,” he hissed, though there wasn't much heat to it. He could never stay mad at the man for long.

“Sorry,” Bokuto repeated. Slowly, he threaded their fingers together, and Keiji’s entire body rejoiced at the new sensation. Bokuto's hands were rough with callouses, but the pads of his fingers were soft to the touch. Keiji couldn’t believe he was actually holding them. Feeling them. Bokuto was holding his hands!

“Is this real?” Keiji asked, swallowing harshly. He felt himself shaking. “And do you actually..?”

“Mhm,” Bokuto nodded simply.

Keiji could cry. He didn’t, but he could. Bokuto knew that he was trying to confess? For how long? And he actually liked Keiji back? Was that what was happening? Keiji was completely overwhelmed. He wasn’t sure what else to say, so he just took deep breaths and squeezed Koutarou’s hands like his life depended on it.

Eventually, Koutarou spoke again, and his words were beyond what Keiji could have ever imagined.

“You’ve been so distracted,” Bokuto stated simply. “So distracted writing all your little notes and helping me with everything and planning a perfect, romantic confession and driving yourself half-crazy with it... that you didn’t even notice.”

Keiji blinked. “Notice what?”

“That I'm just as crazy about you, Akaashi Keiji.”

"Oh. You guys finally figured it out. Good."

Keiji and Bokuto froze. Kenma stood in the front doorway, wearing an exasperated expression as he took in the sight of the other two. Keiji scowled from his perch on the kitchen counter. Unashamed, he pulled the man who was currently slotted in between his legs even closer.

"This has nothing to do with you," Keiji said in a clipped tone.

"You're defiling my kitchen," Kenma said. "But congratulations I guess."

"Thanks, Kenma!" Bokuto grinned. In one easy motion, he lifted Keiji up and back down to the floor. "We're really happy!"

"I'm glad. I told Keiji that he had nothing to worry about."

Scoffing, Keiji smoothed out his rumpled shirt. "You didn't know shit. I had every reason to be skeptical that Bokuto returned my feelings."

"Right," Kenma drawled sarcastically. He nodded at Bokuto, who'd taken to hugging Keiji from behind and nuzzling into his neck. "Bokuto, please help him with that anxiety of his. It nearly drove us both insane this year."

"Will do!" Bokuto nodded. "Keiji sure overthinks a lot, doesn't he? He really needs to chill out!"

"Why are you guys ganging up on me?" Keiji pouted. "I'm not Kuroo."

"Well, he's not here right now," Kenma shrugged.

"Oh shit!" Bokuto cried, "I need to text Kuroo about this! He's totally gonna freak out!"

Keiji tutted, reaching to grab Bokuto's wrist. "Not now. Kenma, we'll be in my room for the rest of the night. Don't bother us."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Also, gross."

“Oh! I totally remember this!”

Keiji hummed, glancing up from his current spot sprawled over Bokuto's chest. They were cuddling in Keiji’s bed following a long, emotional conversation (and even longer make-out session). Bokuto was flipping through an old photo album from high school.

“I should hope you remember,” Keiji muttered. “You only graduated high school once, after all.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t just that!” Bokuto exclaimed. “This was the first time that I realized, you know…”

Keiji studied the photo. It was a simple shot of the two of them in front of Fukurodani Academy. Bokuto held his diploma proudly in one hand as he hugged Keiji tightly around the shoulders with the other. Bokuto's eyes were fixed on him, not the camera. A soft expression graced his usual exuberant features. Keiji, meanwhile, wore a ghost of a smile. A light blush dusted his sharp cheekbones.

“It was always so confusing, when you looked at me like that,” Keiji muttered into the other man’s shirt.

“Huh?”

“I was head over heels for you. Completely infatuated. And I didn’t think I'd ever have a chance with you. But then you’d give me this look of, well, devotion that I didn’t know what to do with." He pointed down at the young Bokuto in the photo. "I mean, look at that!”

“Sorry,” Bokuto muttered, pulling him in closer. “I didn’t know what I was feeling back then! Like I was saying, the day of my graduation was when I first realized… I thought you were pretty. So pretty! I’d never thought that about another guy before.”

Giddy, Keiji bit his bottom lip, turning to nuzzle even further into the man’s side.

“I remember seeing you all dressed up for my ceremony, you weren't even graduating yourself, and your hair was so curly with some pink sakura petals caught in it… and your eyes!” Bokuto groaned dramatically. “Keiji, I was obsessed with the color of your eyes and I had no idea why!”

Keiji chuckled, craning his neck to meet his now-partner’s gaze. “I suppose we have that in common, then. Your eyes are beautiful as well, Koutarou. Like a pair of burning suns.”

The man groaned again. “Stop talking so poetically, Keiji! My emotions can’t handle it!”

Keiji laughed fully this time, rolling himself over to straddle the man’s hips. Bokuto gasped, reaching out to settle his hands on Keiji’s in response. “I love you,” Keiji said, leaning down until their lips were barely brushing. “I love you so very much, Bokuto Koutarou.”

The kiss was quite chaste—at least compared to what they were doing half and hour ago. Keiji melted into it, delighting in how Bokuto's lips couldn’t seem to not twitch up into a smile. They both huffed a laugh, awkwardly bumping noses.

“I love you too,” Bokuto breathed. "So much."

They kissed again, and again, and again until Keiji’s knees nearly gave out. Finally they settled for facing each other, limbs entwined and pulses close. Neither spoke; they’d said plenty for now.

In less than seventy-two hours, Bokuto would be heading to Osaka. They would be separated for most of the foreseeable future. Keiji had a year left of university and no idea what to expect after that.

But if Keiji had learned anything that week, it was that worrying too much about the future was pointless. Because plans changed. Circumstances shifted. And opportunities presented themselves in completely unexpected ways. 

Especially when sharing your life with one Bokuto Koutarou.

Keiji grinned.

He would gladly go along for the ride.