Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was early November, and an unusually cold night in Osaka when Bokuto woke up. He blinked his eyes opened and looked around. Akaashi was gone. His eyes adjusted to the dark and he saw the clock said 3 AM.

Confused, Bokuto called out, “Keiji?”

No answer. He sighed and tried to go back to sleep. Five minutes later Akaashi wasn’t back yet.

They’d gotten into an argument again before they went to bed. There had been a lot of those lately. About big things and dumb things too. Bokuto hated it.

Akaashi was still in his last year of college in Tokyo, a two-and-a-half-hour bullet train away, and his weekend visits had been becoming less and less frequent and more and more tension filled. In the last few months there had been days when they didn’t call at all or sometimes didn’t even text.

If you asked Bokuto, tonight hadn’t felt anything out of the ordinary, even if the ordinary wasn’t what he wanted it to be. Bokuto had been watching Akaashi do homework and trying to think of something to say. Akaashi had snapped, “Why are you staring at me?” Bokuto said he was bored. Akaashi said he couldn’t help being busy. Bokuto started sulking, and Akaashi rolled his eyes. Bokuto complained that it was pointless for him to even visit if they weren’t gonna talk. Akaashi said it was pointless to talk if they had nothing to say.

That turned into something else which turned into something worse. They’d gone to bed without making up.

Bokuto had reached for his hand under the covers. Akaashi had squeezed it back, and Bokuto had tried to pull his body closer. That usually worked, but this time Akaashi took his hand back, rolled over and said, “not tonight.” Bokuto hadn’t replied, just sighed and rolled away and went to sleep.

Feeling uneasy, he got up and left the bedroom. The lights were off in the living room and under the door to the bathroom. “Keiji?” he called again. “Where are you?”

He started to panic for a moment that he was gone, but then he turned around and saw a figure on the balcony. Akaashi had his back turned and was looking out at the city.

Bokuto slid the door open. “Keiji what are you doing? It’s freezing out here.” Akaashi didn’t respond. “Keiji come on. You ok?” Bokuto wrapped his arms around himself. The wind was blowing in from the water. He waited another second then sighed and started to go back inside when Akaashi turned.

Bokuto froze. Akaashi was crying. And not just a few leaking tears. His face was wet, and his nose was running. He looked like he was holding back a sob.

“Hey…” Bokuto started to take a step towards him.

“Wait!” Akaashi held a hand out. Bokuto stopped. Akaashi turned his face up towards the sky and sniffed. He took a shaky breath and tried to blink away the tears. “Koutarou, I can’t do this anymore.”

Bokuto didn’t move. “What do you mean?”

“I mean us,” Akaashi gasped out. “It’s not working anymore. We can both feel it.”

“Are… are you serious?” Bokuto felt his heart start to drop.

“Yes. I’m sorry.” Akaashi wiped his face on his sleeve. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and tonight I just…I couldn’t deny it anymore. One of us had to say something.”

“Keiji it was a fight…”

“It’s not though! It’s not just a fight. It’s one more fight in a long string of fights about the same stupid stuff that never go anywhere. We’re out of sync. We have been for a long time. When was the last time we managed to go a weekend without pissing each other off? We’re constantly fighting. And we don’t talk anymore.”

Bokuto sat down on the little bench he had on the balcony. “I don’t… you’re actually serious.”

“Kou, you can’t tell me you thought things were going well.”

Bokuto put his face in his hands. He couldn't. He’d known it was bad. He’d known it was really bad. He was always frustrated, and things hadn’t felt the same for a long time. Whenever he looked at Akaashi, he felt scared. But he thought they’d find a solution soon enough. It was him and Keiji. There had to be a cure. Ending things hadn’t crossed his mind.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know. But to actually break up? There’s gotta be a fix. Or something. We can try harder.”

Akaashi turned away again and wiped his face on his sleeve. “Maybe. But we don’t make each other happy anymore, Kou. Maybe it’s time to admit that.”

“So that’s it? It’s too late?”

Akaashi started crying again. “I’m just tired. I’m so tired. It hurts too much.”

“I’m tired too,” Bokuto admitted. “But this feels…I thought we’d…” He put his face back in his hands. This was happening too fast. His brain couldn’t come up with anything to say.

“We’re not ourselves anymore,” Akaashi said. “I make you angry, Koutarou! You’re never angry. I’m the only thing that makes you angry. I don’t wanna do that to you. We say things to each other we should never say! And…and…” He broke off and sat on the ground against the railing. “Please say something.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t. I feel numb.” Bokuto felt assaulted by the waves of shock pulsing through him. He worried he would pass out if he tried to speak or move. The tears finally came, and he cried into his hands. “Everything you’re saying is right. I know it is! I just didn’t… I thought we’d work it out. Keiji, I never wanted this.”

Akaashi was quiet now. He pulled his legs into his chest and stared at the ground in front of him. Bokuto could see the muscles in his jaw trying to hold back tears.

Bokuto couldn’t take it. “Are you sure? Is this…is this really it?” He said through a sob, using his fist to wipe the tears away.

“I don’t want to say it out loud,” Akaashi whispered. “But… I don’t see another option.”

Bokuto took in a shaky breath of the freezing air and raised his face to the sky. “I feel like…I feel like I need to say more. But I don’t know what.”

“I know.”

“Five years.”

“I know.”

“And now it’s all over. Just like that.”

Bokuto instinctively braced himself for Akaashi to say it wasn’t ‘just like that.’ But he didn’t. He just kept staring down. And somehow the lack of argument made it clear to Bokuto that this was really happening.

A fresh wave of shock hit him when he realized he had nothing to say either. They really had stopped communicating, and he didn’t know how to talk to him anymore. Try as he might, his brain couldn’t come up with any reason Akaashi was wrong.

Bokuto looked up at him and blinked the tears out of his eyes. Akaashi was still staring at the ground. “I really loved you,” Bokuto whispered. “The whole time.” There was nothing else to say.

Akaashi finally looked back and held Bokuto’s gaze through his tears. His eyes searching his face for something Bokuto didn’t think he could give anymore. “I loved you too.”

They sat on the balcony a while longer until the tears had slowed. Bokuto rubbed his face on his sleeve and stood up off the bench, holding onto the doorframe. Akaashi stood too and wrapped his arms tightly around himself.

“I’m… I’m gonna pack my stuff up.”

Bokuto felt a chill at the finality of that statement. Akaashi walked past him, and Bokuto almost reached out to grab him and hold their bodies together again. But instead he just followed him back inside.

He glanced at the clock. The first train back to Tokyo left at 6 AM, so somehow they’d have to get through the next couple of hours. He stared at the wall as Akaashi went into the bedroom.

Bokuto sat down on the sofa and hugged his knees into his chest. He’d moved to Osaka right after he graduated college and joined the MSBY Black Jackals in April. If he was honest, he and Akaashi hadn’t been themselves since before even then. He wondered if subconsciously the need for space was why he’d picked a team in Osaka despite having an offer from the D1 team in Tokyo. He hated that idea and pushed it out of his mind.

During the summer, Bokuto had been traveling the world with Japan’s national team for the international season. They’d hardly spoken while he was gone. Scheduling phone calls around time differences had proved to be too much effort. Even when he was in Tokyo for training, Bokuto had opted to stay in the team dorm rather than go back to their apartment. He regretted that choice now.

But despite the tension, their lives were still fully intertwined. Slowly Akaashi’s things had started appearing around the Osaka apartment. He had drawers of clothes and a toothbrush and plates and appliances he liked. He’d picked out half of Bokuto’s furniture and hung the photos on the wall. They’d talked about him finding a job in Osaka and joining him here. But Akaashi liked Tokyo. That had been one of the fights they’d had over and over again.

Bokuto was tired. The numb feeling in his chest hadn’t gone away yet, and he wondered when it would really hit that the relationship he’d been in since he was 18 was actually over.

He started crying again. A large part of him wanted to run into that room and wrap Akaashi in his arms and never let him go. Kiss him until he agreed to stay. But he didn’t. Because Akaashi was right. They were miserable. And deep down he knew there was another part of him looking forward to letting go and trying life on his own.

He’d thought before, in some darker moments, about what his life would be like if he didn’t have Akaashi. What he would do differently. He realized that was real now. He could do those things. But it didn’t feel good.

He wiped his eyes, stood up, and walked to the bedroom. Akaashi had changed out of his pajamas, and his duffel bag sat packed on the ground by the door. He was standing up and staring at the closet with his thin arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

Once high school volleyball had ended, it hadn’t taken long for his body to change. When he'd stopped exercising, Akaashi had only gotten thinner. His muscles shrank, and he’d started to look more and more waif like. He’d always been beautiful, but as he’d gotten older, he’d become truly striking. And he’d gotten better at presenting himself too. His closet was curated with pieces that highlighted his long limbs and angular frame. He styled his soft wavy hair so it hung just right over his forehead. He wore mascara and filled his brows in every morning. He wore contacts instead of glasses when they went out.

As Akaashi had gotten prettier and prettier, Bokuto had gotten more and more insecure. Depending on his mood, he had alternated between being proud Akaashi was his and wanting to start a fight every time he turned a head on the street. Akaashi had hated the jealousy.

“Can… can I do anything?” Bokuto asked softly.

Akaashi looked over at him. He looked like he’d been crying too. The redness only brought out how blue his eyes were. It wasn’t fair. “No, um. It’s ok. I just realized that I have a lot of stuff here. Clothes and things. I can’t…I can’t take it all now.”

“Do you want me to send it to you?” Bokuto could barely hear his own voice. “Or I could just bring it when I come back for Christmas.”

Akaashi sniffed and wiped his face on his sleeve. He had the cuffs pulled down over his hands, hiding his narrow palms and jutting knuckles. “Yeah, um. Sure. Whatever’s easier for you. Honestly just send the clothes. Don’t worry about anything else. Um, all of it’s yours too. And you need it here.”

“Ok,” Bokuto breathed. The silence was unbearable. “Keiji…”

“Yeah?” Akaashi turned to look at him, and his beautiful eyes locking onto Bokuto’s sent a shiver through him.

Bokuto sniffed and quickly broke eye contact as his eyes started to water. “Sorry. I don’t actually have anything to say I just…fuck.”

Akaashi looked back down. “Yeah.” The silence returned. “I think I’m just gonna go to the station early.”

“You don’t have to. I can just…go to the other room. I was gonna drive you anyway.”

“I can get a taxi,” Akaashi said and pulled his phone out to start dialing.

Bokuto exhaled, too shellshocked still to argue. “Ok. Sure.”

Ten minutes later they were at the door. They tried to look at each other but neither could hold the other’s gaze. Neither knew how to say goodbye. Neither knew how final this goodbye actually was.

“I’ll let you know when I mail your stuff,” Bokuto said awkwardly.

“Yeah. Sure. Same.” Bokuto had just as much stuff at Akaashi’s Tokyo apartment. They’d shared it for three years during college after all.

“Have a safe train ride.”

“You too. Wait. Fuck. Sorry.” Akaashi winced. He wasn’t thinking clearly either it seemed.

Bokuto didn’t know what the protocol was here. Did he hug him? Did he shake his hand? Did he kiss him one last time? Did he just say goodbye and close the door?

Akaashi hauled his bag tighter on his shoulder. “Well, um. I should go.”

“Ok.”

“You should try and sleep.”

Bokuto didn’t say anything.

“Sorry,” Akaashi sighed.

“It’s ok.”

“Goodbye Koutarou.”

“Bye. Keiji.”

Their eyes met one more time before Akaashi turned and walked past the door frame. Bokuto waited until he was down the hall before closing it behind him.

Chapter Text

Akaashi didn’t cry on the train. He did homework. And filled out job applications. He shut down his mind from replaying the breakup and focused on his tasks. His meaningless essays and cover letters. Because if he thought about it, he would cry again.

He felt like he was living in a dream. Or more likely a nightmare. Over the last six months, he’d had that conversation in his head a hundred times. But he never thought it would actually happen. He never thought he’d work up the courage to leave, no matter how much he knew deep down that he wanted to.

The last year had been heartbreaking. He’d felt them slowly coming apart and been powerless to stop it. What do you do when you wake up and the person you promised to love forever doesn’t feel like forever anymore? What do you do when you’re angry and sad for no reason, and the person who used to make it better now can’t figure out how?

When he’d gotten on the train to Osaka 36 hours before, he’d told himself not to do it. He’d said to stick it out and wait. It’ll get better, it’ll get better. But then they’d fought again, and he didn’t have the energy left to convince himself it was worth it.

In bed that night he’d lain awake and frozen as Bokuto’s breathing evened out in sleep. Tears had started to come out of his eyes, and he’d rolled towards Bokuto and kissed his beautiful back and shoulders as he slept, savoring the warmth of his body and tracing the outlines of the muscles in his arms that he knew so well. Then he’d climbed out of bed before his sobs got too loud, and he’d gone to sit on the sofa to think.

He’d loved Bokuto Koutarou since he was 15. And his brain replayed the last seven years of knowing and loving him. Then it played the fantasies he’d had over the last six months of what life would look like without him. For the hundred thousandth time, he’d gone through his pro-con list in his mind. Traced every aspect of his life, imagining it with and without Koutarou. Everything that would get worse without him and everything that would get better.

And he’d arrived at the same conclusion he always did. The conclusion he always ignored and pushed away despite what the evidence suggested. But this time, for some reason he couldn’t name, he was finally ready to accept it. No more trials needed.

And then he’d sobbed. It got too hot inside, and he’d went out onto the balcony so he could breathe fresh air and stifle the cries with cold. He’d been standing there when he heard Bokuto’s voice. A lump had risen in his throat in the way he’d always read about but didn’t believe actually happened. And for a few seconds he’d been unable to speak. So he’d made himself look at him instead, and when he saw the weariness and concern on that face he’d loved for so long, his heart broke.

But he’d managed to get the words out, purely from memory from all the times he’d said them in his head. And once they were out in the world, he couldn’t take them back. And so he’d kept going.

The whole time, a part of him had been screaming inside for Bokuto to fight back. To tell him no. To fight for him. But he hadn’t, and that had made the whole thing worse. They were broken to begin with, Akaashi had just been the one to deal the final blow.

He got off the bullet train and onto the train that would take him back home. He pushed his way through the door at 9:30. His roommate Nishinoya Yuu was in the kitchen eating breakfast.

“Keiji?” Nishinoya shot off his stool as Akaashi walked through the apartment on the way to his room. “Why are you back so early? I figured you wouldn’t be here till tonight.”

Nishinoya had been Bokuto and Akaashi’s roommate for the last three and a half years. Before graduating high school, the Karasuno libero had been offered a volleyball scholarship to Bokuto’s college. For most of the winter, he hadn’t been planning to go, but he changed his mind at the last minute. He was lucky they’d still agreed to sign him on such short notice. But one of the coaches was sure he’d be a perfect fit for the team and held tightly to his recommendation.

A week before Akaashi’s high school graduation, Noya had called Bokuto saying he’d be moving to Tokyo after all. A week later they’d all signed a lease. Akaashi and Bokuto had been grateful to get a roommate. Tokyo apartments were barely affordable for three college students, let alone two.

As he looked at him now, Akaashi had no idea what to say. Over the years, the three of them had become best friends. Now that was probably over. He’d been dreading this part.

“Yeah, um,” Akaashi didn’t meet Noya's eyes. “Change of plans.”

Noya frowned. “Yeah ok… You good? How’s Kou?”

Akaashi felt his heart speed up and started to get the feeling he was watching himself from above. “Um. Yeah. I’m good. Koutarou is fine. We, um, we kinda broke up. But, uh, yeah—” he started to retreat to his room again.

“WHAT??” Noya shouted, and Akaashi winced. “Sorry,” he said in a softer voice. “Did you say you broke up?!”

“Yeah. Like… six hours ago.”

“Oh shit. Are you ok?”

“Yeah. Um. We both agreed to it. I’m good. He’s good. Sorry, I don’t really wanna talk about it, I’m gonna go to my room. Sorry.”

Noya blinked. “Uh, yeah. Sorry man. Whatever you gotta do…”

Akaashi tightened his jaw and left his friend standing in the kitchen as he closed his bedroom door.

~

Nishinoya was stunned. After living with Bokuto and Akaashi for over three years, he’d thought they were unshakeable. He’d known things had been rough lately, but he’d assumed it was just the distance, and they’d get through it. He had no idea what to say as Akaashi turned and speed walked to his room and closed the door.

He went back to his breakfast and scarfed it down before quietly sneaking onto the fire escape and closing the window behind him. He called Bokuto.

“Hello?” Bokuto sounded exhausted.

“Koutarou!” Noya yelled. He yelled everything. Much like Bokuto. It was a miracle Akaashi had made it three years without killing them.

“Hi…what’s up?”

“Keiji just got back.”

“Oh…”

“Is it true? You guys broke up?”

“Yeah.” Bokuto’s voice indicated his mind wasn’t fully present. “Yeah, it’s true.”

“Oh my god…” Noya couldn’t believe it.

“What did he tell you?” Bokuto asked.

“Nothing. Just that it happened. Then he went to be alone.”

Bokuto didn’t say anything.

“Are you ok?” Noya asked softly.

“No. Fuck. No, of course not. I haven’t moved since he left.”

“Oh fuck… what happened?”

“I don’t know. We got in a fight last night. Then I woke up in the middle of the night and found him on the balcony, and he ended it and left.”

“I’m sorry. Was it a bad fight?”

“Not really. No worse than usual at least. We’ve been having… a rough few months. Year actually. It’s just been worse lately. He said it was too much, and he didn’t want to keep going.”

“Do you agree?”

Bokuto was silent for a while. “I…I don’t know. I didn’t fight him on it. I get what he was saying, and he’s probably right. It’s been bad. But I hate it.”

Noya sighed loudly. “I’m really sorry man.”

“I know. Thanks. I don’t think it’s really hit yet.”

“Do you want me to come out there?” Noya offered.

“No. You should stay with Keiji. I’m ok. I have friends here.”

Noya didn’t say anything, but he wasn’t sure that was true. Bokuto had had tons of friends in Tokyo from high school and college. He liked his new teammates on MSBY well enough, but the season had just started, and it didn’t seem like he had a solid support system there yet. Noya was worried about him, but he didn’t want to push it. “Ok well, call if you need anything. Really, I can come right out.”

“I will. I’m gonna try and sleep. Been up all night. Thanks for calling.”

“Ok. Hang in there man. Here for you.”

“Thanks. Bye, Noya.”

“Bye.” Noya hung up the phone and sighed. He climbed back in through the window and walked to Akaashi’s room. He hesitated outside the door and reminded himself that Akaashi wanted to be alone. Noya wondered how long it would be before he came out of his own accord.

He went to his room and called his girlfriend. Noya and Mori Midori had been together since their first month at Karasuno High School. Their third year, Midori had gotten an Artist scholarship to a university in the States for her singing voice and skills on the classical harp. They decided the opportunity was too good to pass up, so she left Noya in Tokyo and climbed on a plane. One month later she got discovered on SoundCloud, and soon put out a record that won her a Grammy for album of the year along with best new artist.

One day Noya had been just an idiot college athlete chilling at home and skipping class, the next he was the boyfriend of a cultural sensation in the making, taking the western hemisphere by storm.

Noya didn’t regret going to college. The last four years had been fantastic, but he was looking forward to graduating. He still hadn’t given up on his dream of traveling the world, and he’d get to see Midori more. Long distance was rough. Even when one of the people is an international superstar.

But right now, he had some terrible news to deliver. Since American colleges started in September and Japanese ones in April, Midori had moved with him to Tokyo for the six months after high school graduation. She and Akaashi had become especially close, finding that they had a lot in common. Noya knew that Akaashi would need comfort soon, and she was the best person to do it.

“Yuu-chi, it’s the middle of the night here, what’s going on?” Midori answered the phone in a groggy voice. She was currently on tour in Europe.

“It’s important,” Noya said.

Midori could tell from his tone that he really meant it. “Ok. What is it?”

“Keiji and Koutarou broke up.”

Midori was silent for a few seconds. When she spoke, she sounded fully awake. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Keiji got back from Osaka just now, and he told me. I called Kou, and he confirmed it.”

“Oh my god. Oh fuck…”

“Yeah.”

“Is Keiji locked in his room?”

“Yup.”

“I’ll call him later.”

“Maybe call Kou too. You’re better at talking than I am.”

“Yeah, I will. Fuck, I can’t believe it.”

“I know.”

“Do you know who did it?”

“Keiji,” Noya told her. “Koutarou says it was mutual though.”

“Oh wow. Things must have been really bad.”

“I guess so. Did you know?”

Midori sighed sadly. “I suspected, yeah. Keiji always tries to pretend everything’s ok when we talk, but it was obvious things weren’t great. I didn’t think it was bad enough to actually break up though. He never said anything like that.”

“It’s Keiji,” Noya said. “He never said anything to me either.”

Midori murmured in agreement. She loved Keiji to death, and they were extremely close, but some things still couldn’t get past his wall. “Baby,” she said softly. “I really need to sleep. But thank you for telling me. I’ll call Keiji tomorrow. He probably needs to rest.”

“Yeah no problem. Sleep well. I love you.”

“Thanks. Love you too.”

Noya ended the call. He knew full well that Midori would stay up the rest of the night trying to figure out how to comfort their friends the next day. But he also knew she could do her show in her sleep. He hadn’t been surprised at all when she found success. He’d known it would happen since he’d first heard her sing at Karasuno’s culture festival when they were 15.

Noya walked across the apartment to Akaashi’s room. He had a suspicion that his roommate hadn’t eaten breakfast on the train, and even if he was heartbroken, he needed to eat.

He softly knocked on the door. “Keiji? Can I get you anything? Food?” There was no response. “I’m gonna come in, ok? Yell if I should leave you alone.” He gave Akaashi another few seconds to respond before opening the door. Akaashi was lying on his bed curled up around a stuffed owl. He didn’t say anything when Noya walked in.

“Did you eat today?” Noya asked.

Akaashi shook his head no.

“Did you eat dinner last night?” Noya asked with a slight frown.

Akaashi shook his head again.

“I’m gonna get you something.”

Akaashi nodded, and Noya went to the kitchen. He came back with a plastic container of takeout katsudon he’d been planning to eat for dinner and set it on Akaashi’s nightstand. Akaashi sat up, put the owl plushie on his pillow, and started to eat.

Over the years, Noya had learned that if you didn’t remind Akaashi to eat food, he had a tendency to skip meals. Especially when he was stressed. They sat in silence while Akaashi ate. When he was done, Noya took the bowl back. “Is there anything else I can do?”

Akaashi shook his head again.

“Are you gonna be ok if I leave?”

Akaashi nodded.

“Ok. Just call me if you need anything.” Noya started to walk towards the door.

“Thank you,” Akaashi said softly.

“Yeah. No problem. I’ll be in my room, ok?”

Noya closed the door and walked back to his room. He sat down at his desk and started tugging on the blonde streak in his hair. He had a feeling things were going to be rough for a while.

Exhaustion hit around noon, and Akaashi fell asleep. He was still clutching the owl. Bokuto had won it for him at a festival when they were still in high school. At the time, he’d thought it was stupid. Even Bokuto had given it to him as a semi-joke. But he’d kept it on the shelf in his room ever since. He woke up in the evening still holding it.

That night he got a call from Midori. He was so spent that he debated ignoring it, but he knew hearing his best friend’s voice would make him feel better.

“Hey,” he answered softly.

“Hey! You ok?”

“Noya told you?” Akaashi wasn’t surprised, and he didn’t mind.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, Keiji.”

“I know. Thanks.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to yet,” she said. “I just wanted to call.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

There was a pause where neither of them said anything. Midori broke the silence. “It wasn’t a mistake.”

Akaashi winced. In that moment he had, in fact, been worrying that he had done the wrong thing. Midori had always been deeply in-tuned to the feelings of people around her. And she knew Akaashi well to begin with, so he could rarely keep anything from her.

“How do you know?” He asked.

“Because I know you,” she said. “And there’s no way you did this without thinking about it for months from every possible angle. I know you probably have a pro-con list written out somewhere. I know you don’t do things without being sure. Especially this. So if you actually went and did it, then I know it was the right choice.”

“Thanks Midori.” Akaashi felt himself start to tear up. She was right. He’d thought about this so much for so long. And he needed an outside voice to tell him it was ok. That he wasn’t horrible for leaving Bokuto behind.

“And I love you,” she said firmly. “And I know you’ve been unhappy for a long time.”

“What if he was the one though?” Akaashi let his deepest fear slip through his lips.

“He wasn’t. At least this version of him wasn’t. And you know I love Koutarou too, so I really mean that.”

Akaashi breathed slowly so he wouldn’t cry. He’d hit his limit of how much he could discuss this at this point. “Do you have a show tonight?” He asked instead.

“Yeah.” Midori let him change the subject. “But I have a couple hours till call.”

“Where are you right now?”

“Prague. Wanna come? I’ll fly you out right now.”

Akaashi let out a laugh that was half a sob. “No. But thank you.” He paused before adding, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. I’m sorry.”

“I think I’m gonna go,” Akaashi murmured. “I just need to think for a while.”

“Ok. Call if you need anything. I’ll add an intermission to the concert if I have to.”

Akaashi almost smiled. “I will. Have a good show.”

“Thanks. Love you. Goodnight.”

“Yeah, yeah you too.”

Akaashi hung up the phone. He wished Midori were here. For the two of them, it had been love at first sight. Or rather love at first 2AM encounter looking for a forgotten dinner in the kitchen while their athlete boyfriends slept.

They were two witty, overthinking “gifted children” in love with two loud, brazen, daredevil hotheads. She’d been the first person to make him laugh so hard he couldn’t breathe and his favorite person to have philosophical debates that made Bokuto’s eyes glaze over with. If she were here right now, he might be able to let himself wallow. But she wasn’t. So he locked the key on his heart, put the stuffed owl back on the shelf, and started doing his homework.

Chapter Text

Two weeks later the boxes started to arrive. Bokuto had simply addressed them to the apartment with no name. Nishinoya helped Akaashi haul everything up to apartment 7C. The boys lived on the seventh floor of an old building with no elevator. It was a big apartment near a big train station with two bedrooms and enough space for Bokuto and Noya to throw out of control house parties. The extreme inaccessibility was the only reason it was affordable.

“Sorry,” Akaashi groaned when they finally got the last of the boxes up the stairs. “I don’t know what all this stuff is. I told him to just send my clothes. Didn’t think it’d be this much.”

Noya suspected the boxes contained much more than clothes. “Don’t mention it,” he gasped before collapsing on the ground.

After they chugged several bottles of water, Akaashi started slicing through the tape on the first box. Noya stood awkwardly by, unsure if this was something he should watch. The first box contained clothes. Akaashi set it aside and started opening the next one.

“What the fuck…” he muttered as he pulled out a biology textbook. It wasn’t even his. It was from a gen ed class Akaashi had helped Bokuto struggle through during college.

Nishinoya watched him shake his head as he looked through the rest of the contents. With a sigh Akaashi started cutting through the tape on a third box. He sat back on his heels when he pulled out a sheet of paper sitting on top of the contents and curled his legs under him to read it.

A few seconds later, Noya realized he was crying. Akaashi inhaled sharply and wiped a tear from his face where it had started to fall off his sharp cheekbone.

“Hey what happened? What’s it say?” Nishinoya stepped forward.

Akaashi handed him the paper before standing up and running to his room.

Noya looked down at the paper and saw it was a hand written note. The handwriting was messy, as if the words had been scribbled out in a frenzy, but it was undeniably Koutarou’s.

I know you said to keep everything but I can’t. I don’t want any of it. I can’t even look at it anymore. I look at it and I see you shouting at me. But then I see all the good times too, or at least what I thought were good times, and it all gets mixed up. We’re done now and I can’t really believe it. But I don’t want any of our things. I don’t want the memories. Or anything that reminds me of you. Because it’s all broken now and I want it out of my life. If you haven’t sent my stuff yet then don’t bother. Just take what you want and get rid of the rest. There’s no reason for me to keep anything of us. I’m just gonna forget it all.

Noya tried to control his breathing as he read through the note. “Damn it… Keiji?” He ran to Akaashi’s room and knocked on the door. “Keiji let me in.”

Akaashi opened the door, then turned and hugged himself tight as he sat down on his bed.

Noya put the paper down on the desk. “That was fucked up. I can’t believe he wrote that.”

Akaashi just shook his head and hid his face in his hands. Noya sat down next to him and put his arms around him. Even fully grown, he was still seven inches shorter than Akaashi, so he had to get up on his knees while Akaashi cried into his shoulder.

“It’s fine,” Akaashi sniffed. “He has a right to be pissed. I don’t really want any of it either. I haven’t even been able to go through his stuff here yet.”

Noya let him go. He knew crying in front of anyone must make Akaashi extremely uncomfortable. They were great friends, but Akaashi was still Akaashi. “Still. Look, um, don’t worry about it. I’ll put everything in my room. You can just hang out in here. Go through it whenever you’re ready.”

Akaashi nodded. Noya took the paper on the way out. He took a picture of it and sent it to Bokuto. This was fucked up man… he texted.

He got to work moving the rest of the boxes to his room, checking each one for more notes, but luckily none showed up. It was mostly Akaashi’s clothes, lots of pictures, carelessly packed bowls and mugs. Not all of which were still intact. There was one box of what Noya was pretty sure were gifts Akaashi had given Bokuto over the years. He was glad he’d been the one to unpack that one.

He checked his phone once everything was hidden away in his room. Bokuto had texted back. Shit. I didn’t think I actually sent that. I thought maybe I’d dreamt it.

Noya rolled his eyes. It ended up in the boxes of shit you sent. Keiji found it.

Bokuto texted back, Fuck. And then, I got really really upset going through his things then I got drunk and I guess I wrote that and put it in there. And a third. Is he mad?

Would you be mad if he sent you a box of your old presents with a note attached saying he never wanted to see you again? Noya knew he was being harsh. Bokuto was one of his best friends in the world, but seeing Akaashi cry had really pissed him off.

Bokuto took a few minutes to respond. Should I call him?

I don’t know

Bokuto didn’t text back, and Noya winced when he heard Akaashi’s voice coming from his bedroom. He could only hear bits, but walked closer to listen at the door in case he had to intervene.

“…Yeah,” Akaashi’s voice said. “…it’s ok…no…do you really not want me to send anything…ok…yeah I’m ok…bye.”

Noya had a feeling he wouldn’t be seeing Akaashi for dinner that night.

~

Bokuto was curled into a ball on the floor of his room. He couldn’t bring himself to actually read the words in the note when Noya had sent the picture. He remembered it well enough to know he didn’t want to see it again.

He had started by trying to gather Akaashi’s clothes from his bedroom. That had devastated him, so he’d gone to get a drink. While grabbing a glass, he’d seen all of Akaashi’s eclectic coffee mugs in the cabinets. He’d poured tequila into one of them and drank it straight. Then he’d started crying. Then he’d looked around and realized he saw Akaashi on every surface of his apartment. Every mirror had his reflection. Every chair he had sat in. Every wall they had kissed against. Every plate was a meal they had shared. Bokuto poured more tequila into Akaashi’s mug, and the night got fuzzy after that.

The next day he’d loaded all the hastily and messily packed boxes into his car and dropped everything off at the post office before he had time to reflect on what he’d done. When he got back, his apartment looked bare. But still Akaashi was everywhere. He gathered up the pillows and blankets off his sofa and threw them in a pile on the ground. He’d take them to the thrift store later and get new ones. Ones that didn’t smell like Akaashi’s skin.

Three weeks after the breakup was Akaashi’s 22nd birthday. As always, he did not want to celebrate. And for once his friends obliged. He spent the whole of December 5th working on a term paper and wondering if Bokuto would call. He didn’t.

That evening there was a knock on his door. Akaashi opened it and found a bowl of nanohana with karashi mustard dressing on a tray on the floor. There was also a plate of karaage and a slice of cake. Noya had left a note with the food. It’s stupid that your favorite meal is salad but here you go. Eat the chicken too because flowers are not a meal. Happy birthday.

For the first time that day, Akaashi smiled. He took the tray into his room to eat. As he ate he texted Midori. I know there’s no way Noya remembered my favorite food. Thank you.

She texted back, You got me. Happy birthday, Keiji. I love you.

He smiled again as he started eating the cake. I love you too.

~

Bokuto had a game on Akaashi’s birthday. He played in the first set and was taken out for the second. Afterwards he got a well-deserved lecture about needing to focus. He went home that night feeling miserable and ended up on his sofa tossing his phone in his hand and debating if he should give Akaashi a call. He didn’t. He called Nishinoya instead.

“Hey Kou,” Noya answered.

“Hey,” Bokuto said. “You with Keiji right now?”

“No, he’s in his room.”

“Oh. Is he ok?”

“I think so.”

“Should I call him?”

“Probably not.”

Bokuto’s heart sank. “Did he have a good day?”

“I don’t know Kou.” Noya sounded a little frustrated. “He didn’t want to do anything, so I just got him dinner and left him alone.”

“Oh. I see.”

Noya sighed.

“He’s 22 today,” Bokuto said.

“Yeah…I know.”

“I’ve always been with him on his birthday.”

“I know.”

Bokuto’s voice dropped low. After a pause he said, “I miss him.”

Noya took a deep breath before replying. “I’m sorry Kou,” he said gently. “It sucks. It really does.”

“This all feels really wrong,” Bokuto said. When he spoke there was a chill in his voice.

“What…what do you mean?” Noya asked.

Bokuto shook his head to clear it. He shouldn’t have said that. It’s over, he reminded himself, You agreed to it. “Nothing,” he said. “Never mind. I just wanted to make sure he had a good birthday. That’s all. We’re still friends so…yeah.” Are you really friends? asked the voice in his head. He ignored it.

“Kou…” Noya sounded concerned now. “It’s ok. You can talk about—”

“No really it’s ok!” Bokuto forced his voice to be brighter. “I’m ok. Just weird. But it’s fine. I should go. Don’t tell him I called. Bye Noya.”

“Yeah…bye…”

Bokuto hung up the phone. His heart was pounding in his chest. You weren’t happy. He wasn’t happy. This is the right thing. It’ll get better. It will.

Chapter Text

The weekend after his birthday, Akaashi got a call from Azumane Asahi. Asahi was in his final year of fashion design school, having taken a gap year between high school and college. Through a strange set of coincidences, he had reconnected with Akaashi and Bokuto through the fashion world.

In the middle of Akaashi’s freshman year, he’d been approached by a girl in his English class who asked if he would consider being a model. She had a friend who went to an art school in the city and needed models for the school’s upcoming runway show. She’d promised to pay him, and Akaashi was broke so he accepted.

As it turned out, he was really good at modeling. And also really liked clothes, and over the last three years, he’d made a decent amount of money off of the fashion and photography students at Tokyo’s various art schools.

Bokuto had been waiting for him after one of the shows when he ran into Asahi. He’d come with friends from his own school and said he’d been shocked when he saw Akaashi on the runway. Bokuto explained Akaashi’s side gig, and Asahi had been using him as a model ever since. Akaashi didn’t charge him since they were old friends. The work was fun and got him out of the house, and he considered that plenty.

“Hey,” Asahi said on the phone. “How are you?”

Akaashi could tell from his tone that he knew about the breakup. Noya must have spilled the beans. “I’m ok,” he sighed. “What’s up?”

“Um, well…” Asahi was still a nervous wreck sometimes, and Akaashi could picture him sweating on the other end of the line. “I just wanted to see if you’re still good for the show next week. It’s totally ok if you don’t wanna do it. I can find someone else.”

“No, Asahi, come on,” Akaashi said. “Of course I’ll do it. It’s your last year, I’m not gonna flake.”

“Ok good.” Asahi sounded relieved. Finding a last-minute model would have been a nightmare, especially since all the clothes were made with Akaashi in mind. “If that’s the case, can I come over later today to do final fittings and stuff?”

Akaashi agreed, and two hours later Asahi showed up at Akaashi and Nishinoya’s apartment with Yachi Hitoka in tow. They had gone to the same art school, Asahi for fashion and Yachi for graphic design.

The three Karasuno expats chatted while Asahi pinned clothes on Akaashi’s body. He kept having to take things in. “Sorry,” Akaashi said. “I know I’ve lost weight.”

An awkward silence fell over the room. “It’s ok,” Asahi tried to smile. “Easier to fix than the other way.”

“How are you doing?” Yachi finally asked.

Akaashi shrugged with his eyebrows so as to not disrupt Asahi’s work. “Ok I guess. He didn’t live here, so it’s not really that different. And I’m busy with school and stuff.”

No one responded for a few seconds. Noya spoke finally, “Keiji… it’s ok to talk about it.”

“I don’t have anything to say!” Akaashi tried to stay calm, but he could hear a frantic edge in his voice betraying his feelings. The truth was, if he even thought about Bokuto these days he started to cry. “It’s over. And it sucks. But that’s it. I can’t just wallow in it.”

Noya crossed his arms and frowned but didn’t say anything. Akaashi, Yachi, and Asahi were all lifelong members of the social anxiety/avoid your problems club, and Noya didn’t want to fully ruin the afternoon by pushing them beyond their bounds.

Luckily Asahi finished his measurements shortly afterward. “Ok, I think I’m done. Thanks Akaashi. And sorry for…you know.”

“It’s fine. Sorry I got upset.”

“You call that upset?” Noya muttered sarcastically from across the room. Akaashi ignored him. “You know what?” Noya suddenly jumped up. “We’re going out to dinner. All of us.”

The other three stared at him. “Keiji,” Noya sighed, “you haven’t left the apartment in three weeks except to go to class. And I’m not gonna let you get any skinnier before the show.”

“Noya…” Akaashi said wearily.

“Nope! You’re going. Don’t even try and argue! You guys too!” He threw a sharp finger up at Yachi and Asahi who both jumped like they were being scolded. “I’m getting dressed, and then we’re leaving. You’ll feel better if you get out a bit. I’ll fucking pay for everyone if that’s what it takes, but Keiji you are leaving the house today if I have to drag you by the balls!” Noya spun and slammed the door to his room.

“I guess we’re going out,” Akaashi muttered.

The next weekend was the fashion show. Akaashi had three looks from Asahi and another three from a second student who’d hired him. It would be the first show he did without Bokuto in the audience.

As he sat in the makeup chair, his mind wandered back to the first show he’d walked in. He’d begged Bokuto not to come, but of course he had shown up anyway. Akaashi had been so embarrassed for Bokuto to see him in the outfits. It had been summer, and the students had done some very out of the box designs. But after the show, he’d walked out of the backstage area only to be swept up in Bokuto’s arms while he told him he’d been perfect and beautiful, and he wanted photo prints to frame on their walls.

Akaashi had been annoyed that Bokuto had ignored his requests, but simultaneously overjoyed by his response. He’d continued to be nothing but supportive of Akaashi’s amateur modeling career, even when he did drag shows and provocative photoshoots. He’d sit in the audience, ignore the rules of high fashion society, and pump his fists in the air every time Akaashi stepped onto the runway. He’d tell people “My boyfriend is the best-looking person in Tokyo! And the hardest working and the most talented and the smartest! I’m the luckiest guy in the world!”

Akaashi shook his head to push the memories away and got yelled at by the makeup student attempting to contour his nose. He apologized and tried to shove Bokuto’s smile out of his mind. Better an off-kilter nose than tear stains in foundation.

Bokuto saw the pictures from the show as he scrolled through Instagram that night before going to sleep. He zoomed as close as he could onto Akaashi’s face. Keiji looked like he always did on the runway. Confident and stunning and ice cold.

Bokuto had loved those shows. Akaashi was always gorgeous and spectacular, and he got to sit and watch him knowing that while everyone there thought he was beautiful, he’d be the one taking him home. Even after moving to Osaka, he’d come back for every one of them at the end of each term. He’d debated coming back for this one, but Nishinoya had said it was a bad idea. It was Asahi’s final show, and it would be bad if anything distracted Akaashi from the walk.

Bokuto scrolled through every photo he could find. He checked Akaashi’s tagged pictures, the pages of the designers, other models, all his friends, even the school’s official account. Asahi had posted photos of all the looks he designed. In one photo, he and Akaashi were posed together. Akaashi wore a tiny black vest with feathers for a collar and white pleated pants. It was a perfect outfit for him. Sexy and androgynous but classy and elegant as well. Asahi knew exactly how to dress him.

Bokuto noticed how much skin was showing. The pants were low rise, and the vest didn’t cover much. It was the type of outfit Bokuto would have loved to take him out of once they got back home.

He felt a pain in his chest and pushed that thought out of his mind. In the picture, Akaashi had a big smile on his face, which was rare, and Bokuto desperately wanted to know what had prompted it. His hair was gelled up and his face covered in makeup that Bokuto didn’t understand.

The unpleasant ache in his chest persisted as he looked at the pictures. He missed him. He missed doing things with him. As he stared at the photo, he also found himself thinking back on the first time Akaashi had modeled.

Summer, 3 1/2 years ago

“Hey I’m back.” Akaashi closed the apartment door behind him.

“Hey baby,” Bokuto said from his seat at the kitchen table. He was drinking a protein shake and watching videos on his phone.

Akaashi kicked his shoes off and went to set his backpack down in their room. “Noya and Midori home?”

Bokuto shook his head as he paused his video. “Noya’s meeting Midori at work, then they’re going out.”

Akaashi nodded and joined him at the table.

“Hungry?” Bokuto asked. “We’ve still got leftovers.”

“Nah I’m ok. Maybe later.”

“Cool. How was your day?”

Akaashi furrowed his brows in a contemplative look. “Actually, weird thing happened.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Akaashi paused for a moment. “There’s a girl in my English class. I’ve only talked to her a few times. But after class today she asked me if I’ve ever modeled before.”

“Modeled?” Bokuto raised an eyebrow. “Like fashion model?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Akaashi shrugged. “Apparently she’s got a friend in design school, and they need models for a runway show at the end of the summer term. Anyway, she asked if I’d do it. I guess they’d pay me.”

“Oh!” Bokuto wasn’t sure what else to say. “You gonna do it?”

“I don’t know. I mean it’s weird, right? Why would she ask me out of nowhere?”

Bokuto almost laughed. “Keiji… look at yourself.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes.

“I mean it! It makes total sense she’d ask you. Come on. How many times have I said you could model?”

Akaashi scoffed. “You’re my boyfriend, you’re supposed to say that.”

“Ok, but for you it’s actually true!”

Akaashi sighed. “Whatever. I told her I’d think about it.”

“Do you want to?” Bokuto asked. “Regardless of if you think you could.”

“I don’t know,” Akaashi sighed. It was clear he still thought this whole thing was ridiculous. “Do you think it’d be a good idea?”

“I don’t see why not. Especially if you’d make some money off it. How much time would it take?”

“I’m not sure exactly. She said I’d need to talk to her friend. But probably fittings and then the actual show.” Akaashi rubbed his face. “I can’t believe I’m actually considering this. I mean it’s me! On a runway! In high fashion stuff! That’s weird!”

Bokuto smiled and rubbed Akaashi’s perfect cheekbone, which was so sharp it looked like it could cut you. “Not really. I can see it.”

Akaashi’s expression softened, and he touched Bokuto’s hand. “Like I said, that’s just cause you love me.”

“And like I said, it’s not. I mean, I do love you. But this is objective. You love me too, but I bet you can’t picture me as a model.”

Akaashi tried to picture it and laughed. “Ok no, maybe not.”

Bokuto did his best impression of what he thought was a fierce model smolder. “What about now?”

Akaashi giggled. “No. Stop.”

“This isn’t hot?”

“No, it really isn’t.”

“What about this?” Bokuto stood from the table and did a duck face while attempting to strike a pose.

“Oh my god stop, this is painful!” Akaashi buried his laughter in his hands.

“You try now!”

“No!”

“You’ll need practice if you’re gonna walk. Modeling is hard.”

“I haven’t even agreed to do it yet!”

“What if I wanna see?”

Akaashi shook his head.

“What’s the point of having a model for a boyfriend if I don’t even get my own at home shows?”

“I’m not a model!” Akaashi protested.

“Not yet.” Bokuto walked around the table and stood next to Akaashi with an awed look on his face. “Damn this is amazing! My boyfriend is so fucking hot that he’s randomly being asked to model in shows! That’s incredible.”

“Koutarou… come on it’s not that big a deal.”

“It is though! Everyone wants you! But you’re with me! That’s awesome!”

Akaashi smiled now. “Yeah I am.”

“My boyfriend is sexier than everyone else’s boyfriend.”

Akaashi laughed and shook his head. “Shut up.”

“Nope. Can’t.”

“You’re ridiculo—”

But Bokuto had already scooped him up and carried him laughing to the bedroom.

The show was two months later. Akaashi had refused to let Bokuto come, and had not even let him see any pictures of the looks he’d be wearing. He claimed it was to protect the student designers, but Bokuto was pretty sure he was just embarrassed. He had, however, told Bokuto they could go on a date night afterwards, so Bokuto was currently standing outside the building waiting for the show to finish.

He was extremely early. Which was rare for him. Subconsciously he was still hoping for a chance to see Akaashi on the runway, so he’d arrived after the show had only been going on for about 15 minutes. Akaashi wouldn’t even be out for at least another hour.

He could hear the music inside and was bouncing around reminding himself that Akaashi had told him no. After he’d been lurking for about 10 minutes, a security guard came up to him.

“Hey kid,” he said. “You can’t just stand around here. Either go in or go somewhere else.”

Bokuto looked up. “Sorry. My boyfriend is in the show. I’m just waiting till he’s done.”

The guard looked at him like he was stupid. “Well, you’re a little early to pick him up. Just go inside. Or come back in an hour.”

“Um,” Bokuto hesitated. “He didn’t want me to watch…”

The security guard sighed. “Just go in. With the lights he won’t even see you from the stage. But I can’t have you loitering out here.”

And so Bokuto ended up inside. He snuck to the back of the auditorium so as to not disturb the audience. He felt awkward and underdressed amongst the rest of the crowd. This atmosphere was certainly new for him.

But then Akaashi walked out, and his heart skipped a beat. In a moment all worries were forgotten.

The boy on the stage looked…like Keiji. But not. He was wearing his usual serious, disinterested look, but without the underlying self-doubt. He looked confident and proud. Almost bored, but in a way that said, “I’ve done this a million times. I know what I’m doing so don’t question it.”

He was wearing a shiny purple shirt that cropped just below his ribs, showing off his flat stomach. It was paired with black pants that cuffed at the bottom, a long, light-colored patterned jacket that flowed out behind him like a cape as he walked, and gold boots with a heel. His hair was parted on the side and Bokuto was pretty sure he was wearing makeup. He got to the end of the runway, posed for a few beats, then turned and walked back. Just as elegantly as he’d come in.

He had already disappeared backstage by the time Bokuto realized his mouth was still hanging open. He’d have bought that security guard a year’s supply of food if he could. He would have to kill Akaashi for asking him to miss this. Even if it meant revealing he’d snuck in.

Akaashi had two more looks throughout the rest of the show. Bokuto desperately wanted to ask him if he could take the clothes home. Especially the outfit that was practically a one shoulder mini dress over tights. (Bokuto made a mental note to check out more men’s fashion magazines.)

When the lights came back on and people started to leave, he found himself stuck to the wall utterly dumbfounded. Had that really been his Keiji up there? He could barely believe it. Eventually he stood and went to wait by the backstage door.

Akaashi walked out 20 minutes later. Back in street clothes with the makeup washed off. His eyes widened when he saw Bokuto.

“Hi…”

“Hey!” Bokuto felt breathless. It was all he could do not to pounce on him right there.

Akaashi frowned. “You watched, didn’t you?”

Bokuto nodded slowly.

“Even though I asked you not too?”

Bokuto continued nodding.

Akaashi sighed and looked away. Bokuto stared. Had he always moved like this? It was like he was still on stage. So smooth and intentional. “Well,” Akaashi shrugged, gently lifting a hand in defeat. “What did you think?”

“Good. Very good.” Bokuto had apparently lost the ability to form sentences.

Akaashi sighed but his eyes were softer now. “Thanks. It was kind of a blur.”

“It was very good.”

Akaashi smiled now. Bokuto’s brain melted. “Well thank you. I’m glad you liked it.”

Bokuto nodded passionately. “I liked it very much.”

“Well, come on let’s go. I’m done now.”

“Can you keep the clothes??” The words burst out before Bokuto could stop them.

Akaashi laughed now. “No, of course not. They were for a class, they have to be turned in to be graded.”

“Oh.” Bokuto looked down dejected.

Akaashi raised an eyebrow. “You liked them that much?”

Bokuto continued staring at the ground. “You looked so good…”

His beautiful boyfriend smiled and steered him towards the exit. “Come on let’s go.”

The next day Akaashi had gotten an email with still shots from the show. He was surprised himself to see what he looked like on the runway, and he felt a little pride and excitement deep in his chest.

“Hey Kou!” He called as he looked through the pictures. “Come here!”

“Yeah?” Bokuto walked out of the bathroom. He’d just showered and had a towel around his neck. He leaned over the back of the sofa, and, without a word, Akaashi simply turned the laptop screen to face him.

“Holy shit…” Bokuto leapt over the back of the sofa and picked up the laptop, scrolling through the photos. “Holy SHIT. Good fucking god Keiji! How do I get these on my phone???”

After that the offers from other students had started coming in. He even did a few professional photoshoots. And he loved every second.

Present Day

As he remembered that night, Bokuto scrolled back through all the photos he had of Akaashi’s shows over the years. He stopped on one that Yachi had taken of Bokuto lifting Akaashi up in the air. Akaashi had been wearing a striped jumpsuit with a cinched waist and mid-thigh length shorts. Bokuto had thought it was adorable.

In the photo, he held Akaashi up with his arms around his thighs, and Akaashi’s hands rested on his shoulders. They were laughing and grinning at each other. It had been one of Bokuto’s favorite pictures. He’d mailed the framed one he had back to Akaashi in his frantic cleansing binge. Now he wanted it back.

He felt his heartbeat starting to rise, as it had been doing periodically since the breakup. He knew it meant another round of heartbroken tears was threatening to burst out. He closed his photos app and put his phone away. He rolled onto his stomach and put a pillow over his head, taking deep breaths against the mattress until his heart rate slowed.

Chapter Text

A few days before Christmas, Bokuto was leaving practice when he stopped by the front desk of the gym. The girl working there was named Akari. She was a junior in college and hoping to get into sports management. She was on her college’s dance team, and it definitely showed. Bokuto found himself staring at her ass as she dug around under the desk on her hands and knees looking for a dropped pen.

He felt the familiar feeling of guilt that he always got in these situations and averted his eyes. But then a voice in his head reminded him he was single now, and his eyes slid back.

Even up till the end, he had Akaashi had done it a lot, and the sudden lack of sex was starting to get to him. The final few months had been full of constant make-up sex and apology sex and a bit of just plain angry sex as well. And while he certainly didn’t miss the fighting, the horniness was starting to get pretty bad.

“Hey Akari-chan,” he said as he leaned against the desk.

She turned around. “Oh, hi Bokuto-kun. Help me find my pen.”

Bokuto pointed to the cup of pens sitting next to her computer.

“I don’t want those pens,” Akari said, as if he’d just insulted her whole family. “I want my pen. It’s my favorite pen and I won’t use a different one.”

Bokuto laughed. He liked Akari. He didn’t like her. But they’d become something like friends since he joined the team. She kept up with his banter and never got annoyed when he came by to talk. “Fine,” he said and leapt over the desk and onto the ground with her. They quickly located the pen and she got up and finished the note she’d been writing. “Long day?” Bokuto asked.

“Yeah. It’s always busy before Christmas.”

“Why would a private gym be busy before Christmas?”

“I don’t know, that’s just something people say.”

Bokuto shot her an amused look. “You’re a weird girl, Akari-chan.”

“As are you. Well weird boy. Not weird girl. Weird man? Wait how old are you?”

“23.”

“Ah. Man it is. Anyway, I’m finishing up here. Wanna get a drink or something?”

Bokuto blinked. I’m single now… “Yeah. Yeah sure.”

Bokuto and Akari went to a bar. They got drinks and ate yakitori. Bokuto wasn’t drunk, but his head was buzzing enough to lose a bit of inhibition. The next thing he knew, he’d invited Akari back to his apartment. She shrugged and said sure why not. He kissed her in the kitchen and on the sofa. She pushed him back and said this was fine, but she didn’t want to date him. Bokuto agreed. He swallowed any remaining guilt and nervousness and sadness as he climbed over her on his bed and unbuttoned her shirt. Akaashi’s face flashed through his mind, and he almost stopped, but Akari slid her hands into his pants, and he pushed the image away.

Thirty minutes later, Bokuto lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. He tried to put a label on what he was feeling, but couldn’t quite place it. Was he nervous? Restless?

He’d just slept with someone. He thought he would feel more afterwards. Maybe super happy or super sad, or at least just different. But as he stared at the ceiling, he realized the lack of emotion was because it had meant nothing. And that was making him uneasy.

The longer he thought about it, and the further from the post-orgasm high he got, the more Akaashi’s face pushed its way back into his head. He tried to push it back down, but now that the horniness was out of his system, it wouldn’t retreat anymore.

Now he was nervous. Definitely nervous. Maybe guilty. Probably more.

Never good at dealing with his emotions alone, he looked over at Akari who was scrolling through Instagram on her phone.

“Was that ok?” he asked.

“Huh?” She looked over at him. “Like the sex? Yeah, it was good. Why?”

“Just wanted to make sure.”

“Was it good for you? I mean, you did seem kinda nervous.”

Bokuto sighed. “Oh sorry. Yeah, it was… it was good.”

Akari sat up and turned to look at him. He tried not to stare at her boobs. They were the first ones he’d seen in real life. “You ok man?”

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About what? Talk to me.”

Bokuto sighed again. Akari was cool. He didn’t have anything to lose by opening up about this. “I was just nervous ‘cause I haven’t really done that before.”

“Done what?”

His eyes dropped to where her body was hidden beneath the sheets.

Her eyes widened. “Wait are you a virgin?? Or were you a virgin,” she glanced at the clock, “30 minutes ago?”

“No! No. Not a virgin. I just haven’t done it…with…” his voice started fading. “With a girl before.”

Akari paused while she processed that. “Wait are you telling me you’re gay?”

“No. I like girls too. Obviously.” He gestured to her chest which she then covered. “I just haven’t slept with one.”

“Ohh,” she said gently. “So this was, like, a really big deal for you.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Are you ok?”

“I think so.”

“So you’ve only slept with men before?” she asked. “Why girls now?”

“Um. Well. Not men exactly. Just one. I, uh, I just broke up with my high school boyfriend. Like last month. And he was my first so…” It felt wrong to refer to Akaashi as just ‘his high school boyfriend,’ but he didn’t know what else to say.

“Oh wow…” Akari raised her eyebrows. “So this was like a really, really big deal for you.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Maybe I should have told you before.”

“No, don’t worry, it’s fine.” She looked at him curiously for a moment. “But I guess I’m surprised I didn’t know. You’ve never mentioned a boyfriend to me before when we hung out.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Things were kind of rough for a while, so I didn’t want to talk about it. Now it’s over. So…” he trailed off again.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Akari frowned at him. “You look really stressed. It’s ok if you weren’t ready for this.”

“No, I was. I think. I definitely wanted to.” Akari waited while he tried to process. “Yeah, it’s fine,” he stated, trying to sound resolved. “I don’t regret it. I think it’ll hit more when I actually start to fall in love with someone else. No offense.”

“None taken…”

“We were together for a long time.” Now that he’d started talking, it was hard to stop.

“Was it a bad breakup?”

“Not really. Maybe? I don’t know. We don’t really talk anymore. But it’s fine.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

“No no! Keiji is great! Yeah! He’s totally great. It was mutual. Just didn’t work out. It happens. I’m good. Totally good.” Bokuto had to force himself to shut up.

Akari was staring at him with nervous pity on her face. Bokuto felt himself flush. “Look Bokuto. Um. It doesn’t seem like you’re over this guy.”

“I…I am. I want to be. We’re friends.”

“I thought you said you weren’t speaking.”

“Well I mean…yeah not really. But…”

“Do you still love him?”

“No! Well, maybe. I don’t know. Fuck.” Bokuto sat up and put his head on his knees. “I’m sorry. This is really embarrassing.”

Akari put a hand out to rub his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. But maybe you should try and talk to your friends about this or something. I think you might need more closure.”

“Yeah…” He folded his arms across his chest and stared ahead at the wall. “Honestly it’s a little easier to talk to you about it. All of my other friends are mutual friends with him, so it’s been kinda hard.”

“I see. Well if we’re gonna do a heart to heart, I’m at least gonna put my boobs away.” She got up and started getting dressed.

Bokuto told her about Akaashi. He told her about how they got together and their college days. He briefly touched on what they had started arguing about, but when it got to the breakup, he started to have trouble. He tried to tell her it was mutual. That they decided they were better as friends. That he was ok with it and hoped Akaashi was doing well.

“Like really I’m good. I’m over it,” he said. “And I don’t wanna bum you out. Keiji is great! It sucks. But it’s fine. I’m fine. Yeah...” Akari just stared at him. Bokuto’s smile faded. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok.”

“It’s kinda late,” he said, mostly just to change the subject. His heart was starting to race again, and he realized that he really didn’t want to be alone. “Do you wanna stay over? Like as a friend?”

Akari smiled gently. “Ok sure. If that’s what you want.”

Bokuto gave her one of his t-shirts to sleep in. He tried not to remember what Akaashi had looked like when he borrowed that shirt. He made a mental note to get rid of it the next day.

Before she turned the light out, Akari turned to him. “Hey Bokuto? I say this as a friend. You need to talk to someone. Honestly. Doesn’t have to be me. But I’m serious. Cause I don’t think you’re as over it as you say you are.”

Bokuto sighed. “Yeah. Ok.”

Akari smiled at him. “Good. That’s all. You’re gonna be ok man.” She turned off the light and flipped away from him to go to sleep. Bokuto rolled to the other side of the bed and pressed his palms to his eyes.

The next day he said goodbye to Akari and apologized for dumping all his baggage on her. They agreed to be friends, and said maybe they shouldn’t do this again until Bokuto was more stable in his feelings.

He took a shower and made himself breakfast and, still unable to sit still, he called Nishinoya.

“Hey Kou,” came Noya’s voice.

“Hey!” Bokuto sat up on his sofa. “Can Keiji hear you right now?”

“Um, no…I’m in my room,” Noya answered.

“Ok.” Bokuto decided just to jump right into his questions. “Do you think that I’m over him?”

Noya was silent for a second. “What?”

“Am I over Keiji? Like have I moved on?”

“I don’t really know that, Kou. Do you feel over him?”

“I mean I’m not mad at him or anything. I think he’s great! Like sure I miss him. But I know we’re not…we’re not together anymore so…”

“Hold up,” Noya cut him off, “Why are you asking this now? What happened?”

“Um…” Bokuto hesitated. He and Noya had talked about sex before, but only concerning vague things about their respective long-term partners. Somehow this seemed way more embarrassing. “I… I kinda hooked up with someone last night. And she said I don’t seem like I’m over him yet.”

“Wait what?!?” Noya shouted.

“I said I—”

“No! Fucking hell man, I heard you! I’m just taking a second. You hooked up??”

“Yes.”

“Like you had sex with them?”

“Yes.”

“And that person was a she?”

“Yes…”

“And you told her about you and Keiji?”

“Yes…?”

“Ok well…that’s a lot of information,” Noya sighed. He was also a bit out of his element here. “First off. You slept with someone! Who isn’t Keiji and is also a woman. That’s a big deal. Are you ok?”

“Yeah…I’m fine. It was definitely different. But not bad or anything.”

“Who was she?”

“She works at the gym we practice at.”

“Are you dating her?”

“No.”

“Ok. One night stand?”

“Yeah I guess. I mean she’s cool. We’re friends.”

“Ok.” Noya decided to let that go and get back to the more pressing matter. “Well anyway, about Keiji. Honestly no, I don’t think you’re over him.”

“Why not?” Bokuto’s heart started to speed up.

“Because you basically won’t talk about him, but clearly want to talk about him all the time. And every time you do say anything it’s all compliments and good stuff and reassurances that you’re fine when in reality you sound like you’re about to start screaming.”

“Oh…really?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t wanna be angry at him or anything,” Bokuto insisted. “And he is great.”

“Kou!” Noya cried in frustration. “This is what I’m talking about! You won’t actually talk about the breakup. You were together for five years! That’s a fucking long time, and I saw you guys together every day of it, and there is no way you’re just ok. You need to let yourself think about it. Get mad or something! Break stuff!”

Bokuto frowned. He was scared to think about it. He was scared that if he let himself actually think, he’d never be able to stop. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Dude. You have to. Or you’re never gonna move on.”

Bokuto didn’t respond for a few seconds. In a small voice he said, “How is he?”

“Keiji?”

“Yeah. Is he ok?”

Noya let out a massive sigh. “I don’t know what I should tell you about that. I don’t know what he’d want you to know.”

Bokuto started to feel sad. He hated feeling sad. “That means he’s either totally happy or not fine at all.”

“Keiji is Keiji. He doesn’t wanna talk about it either.”

“Has he slept with anyone else?”

“Not that I know of,” Noya said hesitantly. “But, fuck, I shouldn’t be telling you that!”

Bokuto felt a rush of relief. Then he felt guilty given what he had done the night before. “I’m gonna get over him. I promise.”

“That’s not really what I told you to do…”

“I gotta go. Gotta get to practice.”

“Bro, I know you don’t practice on Saturday! Why are you lying to me?”

“Bye Noya!” Bokuto hung up.

Chapter Text

Mori Midori’s family had never owned a home, so when she suddenly had disposable income, the first thing she did was buy a beautiful townhouse in downtown Tokyo. She lived mostly in Los Angeles, but whenever she was back in Japan, she loved having a place of her own in what she considered the best city in the world. Noya’s name was also on the lease, and he could have stayed there permanently if he wanted to, but the 7^th floor apartment was closer to his college, and he liked having roommates to keep him company. Midori was happy about that. The idea of her wild and outgoing partner in a big house by himself made her extremely sad.

She had a break from tour during the holiday season, and she flew back to Tokyo a week before Christmas. Normally when she returned to town, she and Nishinoya stayed at the townhouse, but this time she climbed the apartment’s seven flights of stairs and dropped her designer bag onto the old floors before running into Akaashi’s arms.

The three of them spent the next week watching movies and eating expensive takeout and talking about everything except Bokuto. When Midori disappeared for the day two days before Christmas, Akaashi knew that she had gone to see him at his parents’ house. MSBY gave the team a couple days off for the holiday as well.

She didn’t say anything about it when she got back, and Akaashi didn’t mind. She was Bokuto’s friend as well, and he knew she always would be. But that didn’t stop him from desperately wanting to ask if Bokuto had said anything about him, but he knew it would only make things worse, so he left it alone.

He’d spent every Christmas Day with Bokuto’s family since he was 17. They’d basically adopted him during their relationship, and he felt super guilty when he thought about how nice they’d been. He wondered if he should still get them gifts. Christmas shopping had always been something he and Bokuto had done together, and presents had been signed, “from Keiji and Koutarou.” It was very domestic.

He and Bokuto had felt dangerously close to building a life together. It had been one of the reasons he’d ended things when he did. Any longer and he would have been in too deep. At least they hadn’t already combined finances.

Akaashi already felt like he’d broken up with Koutarou’s parents and sisters as well as with him. Things had been rough with Akaashi’s own parents since he’d first come out in high school, and they hadn’t spoken since he had moved in with Bokuto. So the Bokutos had practically become a second family in the years they’d been together,

Eventually he decided to mail the Bokuto family a card reading, “Merry Christmas. Sorry I can’t be there this year. I hope everyone is doing well and best wishes always for the New Year.” His fingers were shaking when he put the letter in the mailbox.

Christmas Day he spent with Noya and Midori. He wondered what excuse they gave to Noya’s sisters and grandfather for not returning to Miyagi for the holiday. But when he curled up with Midori on the couch watching the terrible American teen dramas she loved until 4 AM, he decided just to be grateful he had friends. He rested his cheek on her head, and for the first time, felt tears in his eyes that weren’t entirely sad.

~

Bokuto’s Christmas break was spent dodging awkward questions from his parents and sisters about what happened with Keiji. He couldn’t tell them anything besides, “It just didn’t work out. It’s fine.”

“He still sent us a Christmas card,” his mother showed him. “That’s very nice. We hope you two can stay friends.” Bokuto’s heart started to race as he looked at Akaashi’s tiny, neat handwriting.

“Yeah,” he passed the card back. “Yeah, we are.”

Midori had come to see him a few days before. She’d been dropped off in a beautiful, black car directly outside the old, rundown building the Bokuto family lived in. He’d swept her up in a hug at the door, and they’d gone up the tiny staircase to his room.

“You ever gonna redecorate in here?” She asked, looking around at the childish posters and old volleyball trophies that had been on the shelf for a decade.

“Probably not. I think my parents like it like this.” If Bokuto ever got rich enough, he planned to buy his parents a big house somewhere nice. He hadn’t grown up rich. To this day he had no idea how his family had found the money for equipment and club fees until he got his first volleyball scholarship to a private middle school. The least he could do was use his earnings to say thank you.

With her expensive clothes and hair, Midori looked out of place in the cramped apartment complex, but Bokuto knew she didn’t care. She’d grown up even poorer than he had.

Bokuto had first met Midori over FaceTime one night at summer training camp. The boys had been hanging out in the gym doing extra practice after the matches that day when Nishinoya’s phone started ringing. Midori had been visiting family in Connecticut and FaceTimed Nishinoya after getting completely wasted at a high school house party. Everyone in the gym heard an eruption of noise and Noya’s stressed shouting, so they had come over to see.

There had been a lot of yelling and laughing, and Noya had a small panic attack after a tall, white, American boy took Midori back into the party, leaving her phone with her cousins who barely spoke Japanese. The volleyball boys had all gathered around Noya trying to catch a glimpse of the screen while he attempted to communicate in his rudimentary English. Eventually Suga gave in and translated, not that Midori’s drunk cousins were making much sense to begin with.

Midori had come back ten minutes later and started drunkenly yelling at Noya how much she missed him in very explicit terms. The other boys heard everything before Noya managed to overcome the shock and embarrassment and plug in his headphones. Bokuto had liked her instantly.

They’d first met in person at the Spring Tournament his final year of high school. She’d been standing on the side of the court with Yachi between games when he and Akaashi had come to say hi. Upon seeing her in the flesh, he’d been fully dumbfounded. Much like Akaashi, Midori was the type of beautiful that made your brain go blank just looking at her. And that was when she still had self-cut, undyed hair and secondhand clothing. The glam wasn’t necessary. She was an undeniable force in and of herself.

Bokuto had thought it was no wonder she was with Nishinoya. Only another person that wild and fearless could have held onto her. But once they’d started living together, he’d learned she was actually firmly grounded and unendingly kind and gentle.

He realized with a start that he’d actually known her before he and Akaashi had started dating. That seemed crazy. He could barely remember a time when he and Akaashi weren’t together.

“How are you doing?” Midori asked. She must have noticed his face fall.

He tried not to let out a massive sigh and gave her a weak smile instead. “I’m ok. It’s weird but…” he couldn’t figure out how to end the sentence, so he just shrugged.

She nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry Kou. I wish I had something better to say than that, but it just sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“You sure you’re ok?”

Bokuto frowned at the floor. He wanted to say no. He wanted to say he felt like he was drowning. He wanted to tell her he was worried if he didn’t get his heart under control he’d have a coronary at 23 years old. But what would be the point of that? He and Akaashi were done. The relationship had run its course and stopped making sense a long time ago. He was fine because breaking up was the right thing to do. That’s what he should be saying.

“Yeah. I’m ok. I’m sad of course, but it was the right choice.”

Midori’s eyes were such a dark brown they were practically black. It was almost unsettling when she gazed at you. She could tell Bokuto was full of shit and didn’t bother to hide it on her face, but she didn’t push. “Have you talked to him at all since?” She asked.

“Just once. When I sent his stuff back from Osaka.” Bokuto’s insides clenched as he thought about that night.

When he’d called to apologize, Akaashi barely said a word back. And Bokuto’s own throat had frozen up as soon as he’d heard his voice. Akaashi’s beautiful voice, so smooth and soothing, had been quiet and broken. And it had broken Bokuto to listen to it.

“Oh right,” Midori murmured. Bokuto was sure she’d heard about the incident. Noya told her everything. “Just give it time.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “We’ll be ok.” But would they? he wondered. Without the romance, what was there holding him and Akaashi together? Bokuto had come to the realization over the last few weeks, that at some point they had let their friendship slide. They were two boys in love with nothing else underneath. The camaraderie and comfortableness had disappeared along the way.

Akaashi had stopped sharing his thoughts with him. They’d stopped laughing and making inside jokes. Bokuto had stopped making plans with Akaashi and instead was finding ways to squeeze time with Akaashi around his plans. He loved him, but he didn’t really know him. He gazed at him from afar and ran his hands and lips along his skin. He whispered ‘I love you’ in the dark. But without those things, he had nothing to say. And Akaashi was always too smart not to notice that, even if Bokuto hadn’t.

Bokuto scowled. Normally Midori coming back to town was the best. It meant fun nights out and laughing till your sides split. The best version of Nishinoya and an Akaashi who came alive around his kindred spirit. Now it was quiet conversations in old bedrooms where all the words were lies, but their true meaning mutually understood. He knew she was staying at the apartment, and they were only meeting here because he couldn’t be around Akaashi right now.

“Hey,” he said, his voice purposefully light. “I don’t really wanna talk about this. Tell me about tour. When am I getting my tickets?”

Midori smiled. Her eyes said, ‘I know what you’re doing,’ but she loved him too much to make him sad any longer.

“Tokyo shows are in August,” she said patiently. “Pick a date, and I will get tickets to you.”

“How many do I get?” he grinned.

“It’s my fucking show you get however many you want.”

On New Year’s Day, Akaashi went on a shrine visit with Noya, Kuroo, and Kenma. For the last three years they had always gone together with Bokuto and the Fukurodani alums. As they climbed down the stairs, he almost asked why they were alone this time, but realized he knew the answer. The others were probably with Bokuto at a different shrine. He registered that they all must have planned it out beforehand who would take who. He felt a sudden pressure behind his eyes.

“Hey guys,” he said softly.

“What’s up?” His friends turned around to look at Akaashi who had paused on the steps.

“I’m sorry. For breaking up the group.”

Noya just paused and looked back up at the temple before continuing down. “Don’t worry about it Keiji.”

Akaashi pressed his lips together. He looked back down at the New Years fortune he’d received. Very good luck. He balled the little paper up in his fist. The year would have to go absolutely wild for that one to come true.

That night, Noya and Midori went to the townhouse for some much-needed alone time, and so for the first time since the breakup, Akaashi was really by himself. He spent his days in silence filling out more job applications and working on his thesis. Sometimes it got hard to breathe. Sometimes a few tears made their way out of his eyes. Some nights he didn’t sleep at all.

~

Bokuto, Konoha, and Komi did do their shrine visit together. Being around old friends helped him relax. And the long span of time since their last get together gave them plenty to talk about that wasn’t Akaashi. His fortune said, “slightly good luck.” He went back to Osaka the next day.

A few days after New Years, Midori sat at her keyboard working on a song for her next album, but she kept getting distracted by the thought of her friends.

Bokuto had looked haunted whenever she’d seen him. He’d FaceTimed her and Noya that evening, and the despair in his eyes was so contrary to his normal self that it broke her heart just to see it. But of course, he was in denial, so he was doing his best to overcompensate and hide it.

Meanwhile Akaashi was Akaashi. In the days she’d spent with him in the apartment, her best friend had been even more sullen and quiet than usual. They hadn’t had any big laughs like they usually did, and even their conversations had felt more surface level than they had been since they’d met.

They were both so broken, but neither seemed to have any idea how to process what they were feeling.

Midori suddenly turned around from her piano bench and closed the book she’d been writing lyrics in. “Hey Yuu?”

Nishinoya was sitting on the sofa playing on the Playstation. He looked up from his game and pulled off his headset. “Yeah?”

“Can we talk about Koutarou and Keiji?”

Noya paused the game and put his controller down with a frown. “What about them?”

“They’re not ok.”

“Yeah clearly. But what can we do about that?”

“Get them to talk? They’re both bottling. For Keiji that’s not surprising, but Kou is literally going to explode if he doesn’t stop.”

“How are we supposed to do that?” Noya asked. “Believe me, I’ve been trying with Keiji, and he will not open up. It’s driving me nuts.”

“I think I can handle Keiji,” Midori said. “And I’m pretty sure once Kou starts talking, he’s just gonna unravel. So you just need to get him to break.” She punched a fist into her other palm.

“That seems…violent.”

“I’m serious Yuu! They’re not dealing with it. And sooner or late they’re gonna have to.”

“Is that really our place though?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. But you saw Kou today. He looks awful. I think he’s really, really miserable. But he won’t admit it, even to himself. It’s like he thinks he has to be perfectly fine with it. I just want him to know it’s ok to talk about it and feel something. You know how bad he is with negative emotions. And with Keiji it’s… I don’t know. If he’s not talking to us, then he’s not talking to anyone. And if he’s not talking to anyone, then he’s spiraling in his own head. He’s probably telling himself he’s a horrible person.”

“I don’t know,” Noya said. “I think he’s just becoming a workaholic so he doesn’t have to think about it.”

Midori came to sit next to him. “Yeah. Also a strong possibility.” He put an arm around her, and she leaned her head back against his shoulder. “Keiji doesn’t let people in. You and I are about as close as anyone can expect to get. But there was only one person he actually showed himself to. And now that person is gone. He’s gotta be reeling. Even if he was the one to end it.”

Noya frowned. “I know. He is. But I don’t know if it’s smart to push him.”

Midori didn’t say anything. She knew pushing Akaashi Keiji out of his comfort zone was dangerous. But she also knew that letting Akaashi Keiji fester in guilt and loneliness was probably worse. He’d broken up with Bokuto for a reason. He wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t want to move on. But he’d stopped after the first step. He wouldn’t be ok until he told himself he deserved to be. And that started with a night of truth.

“I think I can handle Keiji,” she said again.

Chapter Text

That Friday, Kuroo and Nishinoya drove to Osaka. They knocked on the door to Bokuto’s apartment and said ‘surprise!’

Bokuto was ecstatic, and they spent the night playing games and eating takeout before falling asleep in the living room. The next day they went around downtown Osaka and took tourist photos and ate the regional foods.

Unbeknownst to Bokuto, his friends were here with the intention of helping him process his breakup with Akaashi, and Noya and Kuroo whisper shouted at each other while Bokuto ran to buy food from a street cart.

“How are we doing this?” Noya asked.

“I thought you had a plan!” Kuroo smacked his arm.

“I figured we would come up with one on the drive over, but then we didn’t!”

“Oh my god,” Kuroo groaned. “Noya, what the hell?! So we’re literally just here to visit now?”

“We’ll bring it up tonight.”

“How??”

“I don’t know. I’ll improvise something.”

“You are straight up useless without your girlfriend, aren’t you?”

“Wait, shut up, he’s coming back!”

On the car ride back to Bokuto’s apartment, Noya asked from the backseat, “Hey Kou, have you talked to Keiji at all?”

“Uhh no I haven’t,” Bokuto said. “You told me not to. Remember?”

Noya ignored Kuroo’s disappointed eye roll and kept going. “Oh. Right. Just seeing if you ignored me.”

“Why? Does he wanna talk to me?” Bokuto turned his whole body around in the passenger seat. The hope in his eyes made Noya want to fling himself out of the car in guilt.

“Um. No, I was just asking ‘cause you keep saying you guys are good, but like… you’re not.”

It took everything Kuroo had not to slam his face into the steering wheel. This was painful. “Ok listen Bo, Noya is an idiot. But yeah, we’re worried about you. So we want to help you acknowledge that you’re not ok so that you can start to move on and actually become ok. Ok?”

“Guys…I don’t…I don’t know what you want me to say.” Bokuto started to curl into a ball in his seat.

“Anything!” Noya exclaimed. “Just talk about it! Think about it!”

“I can’t! It’s hard! And why does it matter to you if I do or not? Can’t I just deal with this my way?”

“Of course it’s hard!” Kuroo turned in the driver’s seat to look at him. “We know it’s hard. You broke up with your boyfriend of five years. And it matters to us because we care about you. Even though you’re an idiot. If you keep bottling, it’s gonna kill you.”

Noya leaned forward and clapped Bokuto’s shoulder. “Yeah, just let it out man.”

“I can’t let it out!” Bokuto exclaimed. “Do you know how much is in here???” He pointed at his chest, eyes frantic. “I can’t. It’s too much!”

Kuroo pulled the car up to Bokuto’s apartment. As soon as the engine was off, Bokuto shoved the door open, climbed out, slammed it shut, and started pacing around outside.

Kuroo turned around to glare at Noya. “Nice going man. Fantastic improvisation. Flawless!”

“Shut up! At least he’s acknowledging that there’s something to let out!”

“And saying he’s gonna keep it all in!”

“Ok fine, I probably shouldn’t have done it in the car,” Noya admitted. “He’s all claustrophobic and jumpy now.” Bokuto liked to hide in small places when he was at his low points. It usually took getting him out of them before anything started to get better.

Kuroo frowned. “Yeah, good point. Ok new plan.” He opened the car door and yelled at Bokuto.

“Come on. Get in the car.”

Bokuto stopped pacing but didn’t come back.

“What are you doing?” Noya asked. Kuroo ignored him and continued to speak to Bokuto.

“Ok, look, we’re sorry. That was the wrong time to bring it up. But we’re not giving up on this because you’re our friend, and we love you even though you’re a disaster. So please get back in the car.”

Bokuto pouted but climbed into the passenger seat.

“Ok, here’s what you’re gonna do,” Kuroo said. “You’re gonna sit here, and we’re all gonna be quiet. All of us.” He pointed at Noya who rolled his eyes. “And you’re gonna think about Akaashi. Everything good, everything bad, everything that went wrong, how you feel about it, and what you want now. Ok?”

“Where are we going?” Bokuto asked warily.

“You’ll find out.” Kuroo put the car in gear and pulled out of the street.

At the same time, Yachi and Midori walked up the stairs to apartment 7C. They exchanged one last glance before Midori knocked. Akaashi frowned in surprise when he opened it. “Hey… I didn’t know you were coming over. Forget something?”

Midori shook her head. “Nope. We’re just gonna hang out.”

“Okay…?” Akaashi stepped aside to let them in. “Why?”

“Because Yuu is gone, and Hitoka and I haven’t hung out in forever, and we wanted to see you.”

“Where’s Noya?”

“Osaka,” Midori answered. “He and Kuroo went to see Koutarou for the weekend.”

Akaashi blinked in surprise at the drop of his ex’s name. “Oh… That’s nice.”

“Yup! Here, eat.” She handed him a red and white takeout box.

“You got KFC?” Akaashi stared at her. Midori was a tiny, millionaire pop star who was often photographed at Michelin star restaurants.

“Well obviously security picked it up for me, but yes we got KFC.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted KFC,” she retorted with a smirk. “Don’t question it.” She pulled a drumstick out of the bucket and sat crossed legged on the floor. “Don’t worry, I also brought pepto.” She tossed a pink box at him. Her aim was terrible, but Akaashi’s volleyball reflexes hadn’t totally disappeared yet, and he reached out to snatch it out of the air before it fell to the ground.

He shot a questioning look at Yachi who just shrugged and grabbed a biscuit. Akaashi rolled his eyes and sat down across from them. He picked up a piece of chicken and started peeling the skin off.

Thirty minutes of light conversation later, Midori’s phone buzzed. She opened it and laughed.

“What is it?” Yachi asked.

“Oh, it’s from Yuu. Look.” Midori showed it to Yachi.

“Ohh that’s cute!” Yachi exclaimed.

“Can I see?” Akaashi asked.

“Yeah sure.” Midori showed him the phone. His heart stuttered a bit. It was a photo of Noya and Bokuto posing like idiots in front of Osaka Castle. They were both holding takoyaki. “Oh. Nice.”

“Yeah, they always have fun,” Midori said fondly. She put her phone away and went back to dinner.

When they were done, Midori was packing away leftovers when she suddenly said, “Oh I almost forgot! Keiji, Yuu said that Kou wanted something from the stuff he sent back, but he forgot to bring it. I was just gonna mail it to him. Yuu said it should be in his room. Do you mind if I look?”

“Oh, uh, yeah no problem…” Akaashi frowned. She was clearly up to something. Once she’d slipped into Noya’s room, Akaashi turned to look at Yachi who was doing her best to not look suspicious. She looked very suspicious. “Ya-chan,” Akaashi said carefully. “Do you know what she’s grabbing?”

“Um. No?”

Akaashi narrowed his eyes. Midori walked out of Noya’s room with a box. She set it down outside the bedroom and started unpacking the contents. Akaashi found his eyes drawn over, and soon he was walking closer. His eyes glazed over the box, and inside he saw framed photos Bokuto had hung on the walls, clothes Akaashi had left there, his favorite coffee mug…

“Sorry, I thought it’d be in this one,” Midori said quietly. “I’ll go back.”

She went back into the room, and Akaashi could hear her moving boxes around.

Yachi came over to look into the box as well. “Oh, I remember this! You got it on that trip to Kyoto!” Yachi was holding the coffee mug from the first box. Akaashi looked back. It was one Bokuto had bought for him from a tourist shop when their friend group took a weekend trip together. It was painted with famous lines of poetry by authors from Kyoto. He loved that mug. He’d missed it.

Akaashi felt an uncomfortable pressure rising in his throat, and he couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad or embarrassed. He found himself walking closer, until he reached a sweaty hand into the box and pulled out a book he’d given Koutarou last year to read on bus rides to his matches. There was a bookmark still sitting halfway through it. Akaashi stared at the bookmark.

He didn’t finish it yet. He sent it back, and he didn’t even finish it. He told me he liked it.

The pressure continued to build in his jaw and behind his eyes.

“Are you ok?” Yachi asked.

“Sorry,” Akaashi put the book down. “Sorry.” He stood up and started pacing around. Just then Midori emerged from the bedroom holding another box, but she stopped in the doorway.

Akaashi looked over. Then he went and took the box from her hands and set it on the ground before continuing to pace. A few seconds later he walked back over and peered into the new box. He saw more picture frames. “Shit,” he muttered, and a tear started to make its way out.

“Midori?” Yachi looked at the other girl with a question in her eyes. Midori pressed her lips together but didn’t move.

Akaashi huffed and another tear leaked out. “Damn it!” He wiped it away and hugged his arms around himself. “Sorry,” he said again.

His body started humming with energy. He had to move, or he was going to break down. Without thinking he walked quickly into Noya’s room and grabbed another one of the boxes. He walked back out to the living room and started tearing it open.

He pulled out more of his clothes. Some of Bokuto’s clothes too. More books he’d left behind. Some books he didn’t even recognize. It was as if Bokuto had decided all books reminded him of Akaashi and therefore had to go.

He went back and grabbed another box, but before he could open it, Midori rushed over and took his hands. “Don’t,” she said. “Not that one. Keiji, stop.”

Akaashi had almost forgotten his friends were there. He pulled his hands out of Midori’s and opened the box anyway. Inside he found a stack of envelopes. He pulled out the top one and found a letter he’d written to Bokuto on their first anniversary. He looked back and recognized his handwriting on all the envelopes. And sitting below them was the jersey he’d gifted Bokuto for his last birthday. Next to that was a present from the year before. Akaashi’s throat burned. The tears were streaming now.

He stood again and started to walk back to Noya’s room to grab more stuff. Midori reached out to grasp his hand, but he shook her off and muttered, “I’m fine.”

He finally stopped when Yachi cried. “Midori!”

“What?!” Akaashi looked at her.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this!” Yachi sniffed. “We wanted you to open up because you won’t talk about Bokuto-kun at all, and it’s been so long, and you seem so sad. Midori said if we came over here and kept bringing him up and making you think about him, eventually you’d talk, but now you’re crying, and now I’m crying and…and… Midori say something!”

“I’m sorry Keiji,” Midori finally spoke. “I didn’t know what else to do. And I knew this would work.”

“Fuck.” Akaashi sat and pulled his knees into his chest. He buried his head in his arms and said, “Well, you were right.”

Kuroo stopped the car. He had driven them up into the mountains north of Osaka. It was beautiful even in winter. For miles and miles around them, there were no other people. Just the rolling, snowcapped hills and the towering trees and absolute silence. Kuroo pulled the car onto a lookout where they all got out.

It was nighttime, and the headlights of the car made two eerie, piercing, yellow beams through the darkness. In the distance you could see the lights of the city, far enough away that it looked like a small town.

The three friends got out of the car and walked towards the edge of the lookout. Bokuto pulled his coat around him and walked ahead. It was January and freezing. No one else was driving up these trails. They were alone.

“Ok,” Kuroo said. “Let it out.”

“What?” Bokuto turned back to look.

“Let it out,” Kuroo repeated. “Just say it into the air. No one can hear you but us, and you can pretend we’re not here.”

Bokuto hesitated. He turned around and looked at his friends. Kuroo had his hands in his pockets, and his face had none of its usual snark. Noya was leaning against the side of the car with his arms crossed and his eyebrows furrowed.

“I don’t know how to start,” Bokuto said.

“Do you still feel fine?” Kuroo asked.

“No,” Bokuto admitted with a broken laugh.

“Why not?”

 Bokuto threw his hands up. “Because it was Keiji, you know! I thought… I thought we’d always be together. And now we’re nothing! And that sucks! How did we go from everything to nothing that fast?? Fuck!” He rubbed his face in his hands and started pacing along the lookout. “I know it wasn’t actually fast. We’d been dying all year. But I never thought it would end.”

His heart rate was picking up, and he felt the tears coming. He didn’t stop them this time.

“Are you ok?” Midori asked.

Akaashi shook his head. “No. No, I’m not. I haven’t even been able to go through these boxes yet. You hit the nail on the head.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. He could tell she meant it.

“I’m not mad,” he told them. “Really. I mean, that was kind of fucked, but it sure worked,” he said as he wiped the tears away. “And I get why you did it. Because it’s me, you know? I can’t talk about this stuff. Even with you guys. Even though I know I should.”

Midori rubbed his arm.

“It’s not that I don’t wanna talk to you! You’re my best friends! It’s just like I can’t. I think about it constantly, but I can’t put it into words.”

Yachi ran to grab a box of tissues off the table. Akaashi took one. “Thanks Ya-chan. Fuck, I’m sorry. This sucks. I’m so uncomfortable! I’m jumpy and stressed all the time. And I feel so guilty. I know it’s not my fault, and I know why I left him, but I keep seeing his face. He was so. So. Sad. And I did that to him.”

“I know, Keiji. It’s ok to miss him.”

“I do miss him! I really miss him! More than I thought I would. How do I miss him when I was always mad at him?”

“Because you weren’t always mad at him,” Midori said softly. “That’s just the part you were thinking about at the end.”

“He was perfect! And sexy and smart, and he made me laugh, and I did everything for him!” Bokuto was crying. He turned away from his friends and yelled into the night. “But FUCK!!! He drove me crazy too! He was so sarcastic and moody, and I always felt like he never took me seriously! And he made these little fucking comments about stuff like everything was a joke even though he knew it was important to me. And he said sorry constantly to everyone else but never to me and never when it actually mattered!” Bokuto paused to wipe his eyes on the cuffs of his coat. He was furious now too. Finally letting himself think all the thoughts he’d been suppressing for months. Maybe years. “FUUUUCCCKKKKK!!!!!!!” He yelled off the mountain, screaming into the night. He’d been holding it in for so long.

“I’m not saying I was perfect, but why do I keep feeling like it’s all my fault when I know it was his fault too! I keep saying he’s great and we’re friends, but we’re not. And he’s not. He made me feel like an idiot! And I hated it because I’m not stupid, but I was so scared he’d think I was stupid! Do you know how stressed I was all the time?? I spent every day trying so hard not to make him mad at me, but he always was!” Bokuto stopped. It felt wrong to say bad things about Akaashi. He hated it. But he couldn’t deny a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “But you know what the really fucked part was? I loved him so much. Even though we sucked. I still do! I think he made me miserable. But I also think I’m always gonna love him. And that’s so scary because he’s gone! He’s just gone! He was everything, and now he’s gone. And I feel like I’m dying. But it was so bad! Everything was bad! We fought all the time, and he drove me crazy, and I drove him crazy, and we needed to break up. I know that! I know all of that! But I miss him so much!” Noya and Kuroo stood in silence while Bokuto raged and cried. So he kept going.

Yachi and Midori held Akaashi on either side while his body shook. Akaashi wasn’t like Bokuto. He didn’t need to yell the words out. He just needed to let it go.

Akaashi was the type of person to live only in his own mind if given the chance. He needed to be pulled out or he’d get lost in the maze of thoughts and ideas. He needed someone to remind him he existed, and that he had a place in the world. That he was allowed to take up space, and that his voice mattered. That it was ok to rely on people. To stop forcing himself to be alone.

“He was a perfect boyfriend. I just wasn’t happy. And I don’t know why. I think it’s probably all my fault. I’m the one with all the problems.”

“That’s not true,” Yachi murmured. “You know that’s not true.”

“I keep thinking I should have stuck it out. Because how could I ever find someone better than that?”

“That’s not a reason to stay with someone when you’re unhappy,” Midori said.

“I know. I know that. That’s why I left when I did. I just keep having these thoughts. That I fucked up. That it was selfish and all my fault. That I’m awful and stupid.”

“You’re not, Keiji. You’re not. You’re brave, and you did what was best for you in a really, really hard situation.”

“But it shouldn’t have been hard!” He cried. “We were good together! Why couldn’t I just be happy? And fuck. Before you say it, I know I’m just romanticizing him. There were real problems that weren’t just me. I know all that. And he was unhappy too. I just… somehow if I blame myself for everything, it hurts less. How fucked is that?”

Akaashi cried. He cried out how much he’d loved him and how much he missed him. He cried out the loss and the pain and the loneliness. He cried for the things he regretted saying and the plans for their future he had to let go of. He cried for everything left unsaid as well, and for the tainted memories sitting scattered around him in boxes he’d been too scared to unpack. He cried for the letters he’d written and the clothes that smelled like Bokuto. He cried for the bookmark, frozen in time, that would stay forever where it was left behind.

Yachi and Midori held him tight. They let him be loud and angry and heartbroken. They held his arms and his head so he remembered he had a body that needed to be taken care of. They sobbed alongside him so he knew he was loved.

“You know what the truth is?” He whispered. “I know I was unhappy, and I know I wanted to leave. But somehow, it’s easier to tell myself that I’m stupid and selfish. It’s easier to shit on myself so I can focus on that instead of…” He took a deep breath. “Instead of admitting that I just didn’t want him anymore. Because that makes me even worse.”

“He said he’d love me forever. He promised me! And I believed it. I just don’t get it! That’s the problem is I don’t understand what happened! How the fuck did we get here?! What did I do wrong?! How did I lose him?! When did I lose him?! How long before he ended it did he stop loving me? I just wanna talk to him. Because I don’t understand. We never even talked! He said he wanted to break up, and I just said ok. I didn’t fight back or try and change his mind. My mind went blank, and I just said ok! Like an idiot! I feel like he did it on purpose. He sprang it on me like that because he knew I couldn’t keep up. He thought I was so stupid I wouldn’t be able to argue with him. And he was right! By the time I realized what he was saying, he had already ended it.” Bokuto cried into his hands, and hot tears stung his freezing fingers. “He got to process it beforehand. I didn’t! Why couldn’t we have talked it through? Why did he do it like that? Even if we had to break up, why did he do it like that?? How am I supposed to move on if he didn’t tell me what I did wrong? I don’t know what to do,” Bokuto gasped. “It hurts so much. How can I stop loving him? How long is it gonna take?” He turned to look desperately at his friends. Noya was crying now too. He hadn’t been ready for this. Neither had Kuroo, but he managed to keep a straight face. “You guys can talk now! Please!”

“I don’t know, Kou,” Noya said. “I wish I did. But I know he really, really loved you too. And he didn’t think you were stupid.”

“Is he ok?” Bokuto asked. “You get to see him every day. Is he ok?”

Noya shook his head and sniffed his leaking nose as he wiped his eyes. “No. No he isn’t. I don’t know if telling you this is gonna make it better or worse, but he’s devastated too.”

Bokuto sobbed. “Then why did he leave me?”

“Because it was time Bo,” Kuroo said. “You know that.”

“Can I say the worst thing?” Akaashi whispered. “I’m looking forward to living without him. I want to know who I am without him. I was 15 when we met, and I never got to figure all that out. I felt suffocated. And trapped. And now…” He didn’t finish the sentence.

Yachi and Midori didn’t ask him to. They just nodded quietly, and Midori held his hand while Yachi curled up and leaned against his side.

“That’s all,” he said. And they sat silently on the floor until Akaashi was all cried out. Then he curled up on the sofa and put on an old movie while Yachi made hot chocolate and Midori returned the boxes to their home under Noya’s bed.

“Thank you, guys,” Akaashi said softly. “For coming. I’m glad I have you.”

The girls scooted closer on either side and threw a blanket over them.

“I know this sucked,” Midori said. “But we’re here because we love you, and we know this was killing you. We knew you had to be saying the worst things to yourself, and we wanted you to tell us so we could tell you that those thoughts aren’t true. That no matter what, you are amazing, and you shouldn’t blame yourself.”

Akaashi nodded, and Yachi added, “It’s ok for you to want to be happy. It’s ok for you to want more than what you were getting.”

“Exactly,” Midori agreed. “You didn’t leave because you’re a bad person. And I know deep down you know that. So trust yourself. And let yourself be happy. You deserve that.”

Akaashi let a few more tears leak out of his eyes. “Thanks guys.”

Midori fell asleep before the film was over, and they decided not to move her. Yachi threw her arms around Akaashi one more time before she went into Noya’s room to sleep. “Goodnight Aka-kun. Sleep well.” Akaashi smiled and hugged her. Despite their good friendship, he’d never switched to calling her Hitoka, so she had started calling him Aka-kun instead of Keiji.

“You too Ya-chan. Goodnight.”

The ride back down the mountain somehow felt even quieter than the one up. The air was thicker, and the atmosphere felt like it was weighing on them. Bokuto stared out the window, periodically sniffing and wiping his face on his sleeve as the dark trees turned into the bright lights of the city.

Noya sat in the back, arms still crossed tightly across his chest and an intense frown wrinkling his forehead. Bokuto wondered what he was thinking about. Would it be strange for him to go back to the apartment he and Akaashi shared after this? Kuroo was expressionless as he drove, glancing at Bokuto only when he stopped the car outside his apartment.

Bokuto got out without a word and unlocked the door for them. He marched straight to the kitchen and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. Kuroo stopped him before he could open it. “It’s a bourbon kind of night.”

“I don’t buy bourbon,” Bokuto muttered.

“I know.” Kuroo grabbed a dark glass bottle out of his duffel bag and poured liquor into three water cups. Bokuto didn’t own nice glasses. Not anymore.

The boys clinked them together and drank.

“Oh fucking hell,” Noya grimaced. “I know it’s supposed to be manly and all, but I could never get used to this stuff.”

Bokuto secretly agreed, but he didn’t complain. Kuroo was right. Somehow it did feel like a bourbon kind of night. “Sorry I lost it,” he said.

“We wanted you to lose it,” Kuroo replied. “That was the whole point. You needed to.”

“I know,” Bokuto took another sip and winced. “It sucks. I don’t like being sad. I don’t know how to deal with it.”

“That’s ok. That’s why we’re here. As long as you can admit you’re hurting to yourself, we’ll do our best to make you feel ok.”

“I know. I’m really fucking sad. I don’t like saying bad stuff about him. It feels wrong. Even when it’s true.”

“I know, Bo. It’s ok.”

“Hey Noya,” Bokuto asked. “Midori dumped you once, right? How long did it take to get over it?”

Noya sighed remembering the few months in their first year of high school when he and Midori had taken a break. “I didn’t,” he said. “That’s why we got back together. But I think that’s a really different situation Kou. We were 15.”

Bokuto sighed. “Right. How long was it till you were back together?”

Noya didn’t answer that. He just sighed and said, “You won’t be sad forever, Kou.”

“I hope you’re right. But I guess we’ll find out.”

Chapter Text

“Hey. Whatcha listening to?”

Akaashi looked up to see Midori standing in the door to his room. He hadn’t heard her come in, only noticing because light had come in from the doorway. He was sitting at his desk with his headphones on. It had been a few days since the night of truth, and he didn’t feel as burdened anymore, but he couldn’t seem to stop self-isolating.

Midori picked up his phone and checked the screen. It was playing “Ivy” off Frank Ocean’s Blonde. “Oof,” she said. A breakup song if there ever was one.

Akaashi couldn’t hear her, but he understood enough from the look she gave him and glared. Midori sat down on the ground next to him. Reluctantly he pulled his headphones off and sighed. He looked at her but didn’t know what to say.

Midori pulled her own phone out of her sweatshirt. She put it down on his desk, and Amy Winehouse’s “Rehab” started playing out of the tinny speaker.

Akaashi gave her a weak smile. She looked up at him and started softly singing along, bobbing her head back and forth.

The song was an inside joke. Their first year of college, Midori had walked in on Akaashi singing it to himself at full volume while making himself dinner. Bokuto and Noya had been at practice, and he’d thought he was alone. Midori had nearly given him a heart attack when she suddenly began harmonizing behind him. But of course, that song was amazing, so they’d kept pulling it out over the years.

Akaashi let out a little laugh and rolled his eyes. He gave in and started to sing.

“I ain’t got the time
And if my daddy thinks I’m fi-ine”

Midori grinned, and they let their voices get a little louder.

“They tried to make me go to rehab but I won’t go, go, go!”

Midori stood and pulled him from his chair, and they danced hand in hand. Halfway through the song, Noya burst into the room having heard them from the other side of the door. Midori let go of Akaashi’s hand and brought him into the circle, and the three of them sang and danced together.

At the end of the song, Akaashi was breathless and smiling. He was still sad, but he felt better than he had in a while. “Thanks guys,” he said softly.

Noya and Midori grinned back at him. In their smiles he saw their love for him and their joy at being together and their desire to bring him happiness. He felt a tickle in his throat. It was still so hard for him to be loved.

~

Midori came to find him again late that night. Akaashi was a night owl, and her sleep schedule was fucked from constant touring.

“Hey.” She knocked on Akaashi’s door at 2AM. “You want tea?”

Akaashi pulled his headphones down. He slid his phone into his pocket before she could see he was back on Frank Ocean. “Sorry what?”

“Tea?”

“Oh. Yeah sure.”

Midori came back five minutes later and handed him a steaming mug. “What are you working on?”

“Nothing really.” Akaashi flipped the journal he’d been skimming through closed. Should be doing homework, but I’m just looking at stuff.”

Midori sat down on his bed, and he turned around in his chair to face her.

“I’m ok,” he said before she could ask.

“I know.”

“It just sucks.”

“I know.”

Akaashi sighed and looked down at his hands where his fingers were fiddling in front of him. He stilled them by grabbing the warm tea mug and inhaling the steam. For a minute, they sat in companionable silence.

“You still write?” Midori asked and gestured to the journal sitting open on Akaashi’s desk.

Akaashi nodded. That journal was full of poems he’d written recently. He’d picked up writing poetry when he took a class on it his first term at college. Try as he might, most of what came out was existential dread, but it was a comforting outlet for him. A way to express his thoughts and deeply buried emotions that appealed to his structured and organized mind.

He wasn’t embarrassed by his work, but even still, Midori was the only person who really knew he wrote at all. He’d never even showed any to Bokuto. But Midori appreciated art and words and creation in the same way he did. So one day when she’d been sitting at her piano working on songs, he’d offered a suggestion for the lyrics. And one thing led to another, and he’d showed her one of the notebooks that had been hidden in his desk for a year.

“Yeah. I try to,” he said. “It’s all depressing as hell though lately.”

“More depressing than usual? Can’t imagine.”

Akaashi laughed under his breath. “Are you asking if you can see any?” He asked with a slight smile.

“No,” she said with a head shake. “But if you want to show me, I’d love to read it.”

Akaashi blinked and grabbed the book off his desk. He opened to a page he’d written the week before and passed it to her. “These days it’s mostly about me and how I don’t know why I’m here or what I’m doing. Here.”

Midori took it and read.

TThere was a path once
And I had a map in hand
But it was lost in the night
And now I am still
I see a hundred doors before me
But without the map, my hands tremble
The wind is blowing me, urging me to walk
’I cannot choose for you’ it whispers
But every door is nameless
And I’m colder than I ever thought I’d be

“I’m tempted to say at least there are doors,” Midori sighed. “But that’s probably really unhelpful.”

Akaashi almost smiled. “Yeah.” He took the journal as she passed it back. “I’m just… I feel…”

Midori waited to see if he’d finish the thought.

“I’m bored,” he said. “I feel like I was hibernating, but I woke up before Spring got here. So I have nothing to do but lie awake in my cave.”

Midori nodded. Akaashi had a couple months left of school. He was ahead in all his classes, and he already had a couple job offers, even if they weren’t his top picks. He was single, but too tired to go out and socialize. He was lonely, but too bitter to want anything else. She understood why he felt aimless.

“What do you want to do?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” he frowned. “If I did, I wouldn’t be so stuck.”

“No. I mean in this exact moment, what do you feel like doing?”

Akaashi sighed and shrugged. “Lying in bed and listening to sad music?”

“Then do that,” she said. “And for the rest of this time, ask yourself that and just do it. Whatever it is. Even if all you want to do is lie in bed for three months, you should let yourself.”

“That feels so lazy,” he said.

“That’s the point. Keiji, you always push yourself so hard to be productive. Whenever I ask you stuff like this, you say ‘I should be doing this.’ It’s never I want. But you’re kind of in a situation now where you really can do whatever you want. So maybe you should practice that.”

Akaashi was silent for a few seconds. “I wanna stay up all night eating Doritos and rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

Midori grinned. “Now would you like to do that alone or with company?”

Chapter Text

Midori went back on tour, and Akaashi and Nishinoya got back into a routine of school and preparing for graduation. But on his friend’s advice, Akaashi started to ask himself what he wanted. And one day he realized — though he was embarrassed to admit it — that he missed sex. It hadn’t hit him as instantly as it had Bokuto, but a few months after their breakup, he could no longer deny that his body was starting to get very frustrated. And that upset him.

He thought about Bokuto’s strong arms and warm chest and beautiful legs and the way they made him feel. He thought about touching them and being touched by them. He wondered what it would feel like to touch another person like that. He wondered if he’d ever be ready.

With him and Bokuto, sex had always felt natural. They were both ferociously attracted to each other, even when things were bad. It had come to them like breathing. They knew each other so well, exactly what worked and what didn’t, exactly what would speed things up or make it last. Akaashi wondered how much of their relationship had been built on that, and it made him angry.

He thought about what things had been like at the end. Their fights had had three outcomes. First, they might actually talk it out. Like mature adults. Then Akaashi would straddle him across the couch, and Bokuto would touch his skin under his shirt, and if they were lucky they’d make it to the bed in time.

Second, they wouldn’t talk it out, and after a few hours Bokuto would find him wherever he was pouting and wrap his arms around him from behind, one across his chest and the other on his stomach. “I’m sorry,” he would say as he kissed Akaashi’s neck. “I’m sorry,” as he slid his shirt off his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” as he dropped a hand into the front of his pants. Then Akaashi would turn around and say “I know,” as he kissed his lips. “It’s ok,” as he took his shirt off. They’d go to the bedroom and tangle themselves up and gasp out “I love you, I love you, I love you,” as their bodies moved together, and pretend that was a resolution.

Third, they would never apologize. They’d get into bed that night, angry, and lie there in silence until one of them said “wanna do it?” and they would. Never looking each other in the eye or even taking off anything but the necessary clothes. The next morning they’d look at each other and sigh and say, “don’t worry about it.” Bokuto would kiss Akaashi’s forehead, and Akaashi would get on the bullet train back to Tokyo, and they wouldn’t talk about it again.

Present day Akaashi closed his eyes. It was so toxic…how did that last for so long…

He knew the answer of course. It lasted for so long because, underneath it all, they really did love each other, for much more than their bodies. Akaashi loved Bokuto even as he ended things and even as he drove away. He loved him when he cried in his friends’ arms and when he eavesdropped outside Noya’s room when he called. He loved him enough that if Bokuto had looked at him on that balcony and said ‘It’s not over. Don’t go,’ then Akaashi would have stayed forever.

But Bokuto didn’t say that. And one morning in early February, Akaashi looked at his phone and realized that, for the first time in five years, the date didn’t mean an anniversary. And that didn’t make him want to cry. Upon introspection, he found that he was sad, but not heartbroken. He was disappointed, but not devastated. He looked at photos of Bokuto on his phone, and he was able to smile.

He grabbed the boxes of their things out of Noya’s room and was able to unpack all the stuff he wanted to keep. He drank coffee out of the mug and put the clothes into the laundry. He pulled the bookmark out of the unfinished book and put it onto his own shelf. He organized the letters and the photos into files and threw away the things he could let go of. Then he sat down and started his homework. And he breathed in and out again. He felt lighter.

At the end of February was a mixer for the literature department at Akaashi’s university. It was a moderately fancy event where the honors students and faculty got together, dressed up, ate hors D’ oeuvres, and talked about books. Akaashi hated these events, but he always went anyway. He may have been a socially anxious introvert, but he also knew networking was an unfortunate necessity. He made his rounds and ate his food and did his best to smile at people.

It was reaching the part of the evening when he would normally try and sneak out unnoticed, but he didn’t want to tonight. Instead, he was watching another student talk confidently to a professor across the room. The student’s name was Sagawa, and he was the year below Akaashi in school.

Back when Akaashi a sophomore, he’d suspected the other boy had a crush on him. But Sagawa wasn’t out, and Akaashi would never ask. Akaashi wouldn’t call them friends, but they’d spent enough time around each other for Akaashi to know he was friendly and handsome and much better at connecting with people than Akaashi was.

Akaashi’s careful gaze followed his underclassman as he sat down on a bench on the edge of the room to check his phone. What do I want? Akaashi checked in with himself one more time before he left his table to follow.

He walked across the room. “Hi Sagawa,” he said as he sat down next to him.

“Oh! Hi Akaashi-senpai,” Sagawa said as he put his phone back in his pocket and gave Akaashi a friendly smile. “How are you?”

“Just Akaashi is fine. I’m doing well. You?”

“Good!” Sagawa said brightly. “I think Ishikawa-sensei is gonna let me into his seminar next term. It’s filled up, but I told him how interested I was, and he said he’d try and get me in.”

Akaashi smiled. “I was in it last year. It’s a good class. You’ll enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard! Hopefully it works out.” Sagawa leaned back on his hands.

“I’m sure it will. Ishikawa-sensei is pretty chill. And I can always vouch for you.”

“Oh wow, thanks!”

“No problem,” Akaashi said softly. And as soon as there was silence, he followed Sagawa’s lead and sat back on his hands, but he let his left hand rest onto Sagawa’s right.

Sagawa slowly turned to look at him. Akaashi said nothing, just let the corner of his mouth turn up in a smile. Sagawa grinned, and they looked back out at the room, chatting about books and classes while they laced their fingers together, hidden behind the bench.

They walked in the same direction after the party, Akaashi to the train station and Sagawa to his dorm. In the entry way to the dorm, Sagawa turned to say goodnight, and Akaashi leaned forward and kissed him. Sagawa tensed but started to kiss him back.

Akaashi broke the kiss and looked at him. “Do you wanna come to my apartment?” He asked.

Sagawa’s eyes widened. “Akaashi-san… I…um. I think… maybe I do. But— I don’t know. I’m not really sure if I…” he trailed off.

Akaashi let go of his hand. “That’s ok. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you around. Have a good night.”

“You— you too! Goodnight Akaashi-san.”

Akaashi waved and continued his walk to the station. As soon as he was on the train, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. It wasn’t that he desperately wanted to hook up with Sagawa. Or anyone in particular. He just wanted to try. And he was practicing pursuing what he wanted. Well, one thing he wanted these days was sex, and he’d found it was easier to kiss another person than he thought it would be. As soon as their lips had touched, Akaashi had known he could do it, and more.

Mastermind that he was, he’d planned it out beforehand. He’d practiced keeping his face neutral so no one else could see the fear and the turmoil underneath. He’d picked Sagawa because he was kind and cute and low key. But he hadn’t known until that moment if he’d be able to go through with it. But he hadn’t felt guilty. He’d felt calm, maybe even a little excited.

He’d been with Bokuto since he was so young, and he hadn’t been able to explore that side of himself during college. While everyone around him had been dating and breaking up and trying new things, he’d been following behind his bundle of personality boyfriend. He didn’t think he regretted it. He’d heard his friends and classmates tell him for years how lucky he was that he’d never have to attempt dating. That he should hold onto Bokuto tight because not many people were lucky enough to stay with their first love. But when things started to go south, he had stopped feeling lucky. He’d started to wonder what else was out there. And soon staying with Bokuto when they weren’t very happy to begin with had felt like the cowardly thing to do.

He’d had nearly five years of heaven, but now he’d been single for over three months. He was about to graduate college, and he wanted to start his new life with everything in the past. Somehow dating someone new felt like a good means of doing that.

He didn’t have to wait long. A week later, Sagawa had made up his mind. He found Akaashi in the library on a Friday night. Akaashi understood, and they went back to his apartment and into his room.

Akaashi asked what he wanted to do. It was Sagawa’s first time, and Akaashi told him everything he needed to know. What to do with his hands and his fingers and his mouth.

They kissed in the bedroom that used to be Bokuto’s bedroom, and Sagawa slowly unbuttoned Akaashi’s shirt. Akaashi undid Sagawa’s belt and tugged his pants off his hips.

Sagawa said he thought he was a bottom, so Akaashi fucked him. He didn’t care either way. Sagawa stayed the night, but the next morning he went back to his dorm. They didn’t make more plans. They both knew what this was. Each had their own reasons for wanting this to happen, and those reasons had a lot more to do with themselves than with the other person.

Nishinoya came home that afternoon and walked right up to Akaashi’s desk with his arms crossed and a question on his face. As he’d ridden the train home with Sagawa the night before, Akaashi had sent his roommate a single text. Can you stay at the townhouse tonight? I’m bringing someone home. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Purposefully not leaving room for more questions. Noya had texted back a simple, ok.

“A kohai from the literature department,” Akaashi said by way of greeting. “I’m not dating him.”

Noya nodded. “You good?” was all he asked.

Akaashi nodded, and something in his eyes told Noya he could believe him. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he just patted Akaashi’s shoulder and said he was gonna make ramen.

Nishinoya Yuu was one of the loudest people Akaashi had ever met, but they’d spent enough time together for Noya to know when he should just be quiet. As long as Akaashi was ok, he didn’t need to say anything else. And Akaashi realized that, shockingly, he was ok. Thinking about Bokuto still hurt, but it wasn’t the same pain it had been before. Now it was mostly sadness and regret at how they had begun to treat each other.

As he heard the door close behind Noya, Akaashi sighed in relief. He’d slept with someone else and felt good about it. And his friends knew, and they were ok with it too. He felt at peace.

Akaashi hooked up with Sagawa two more times before he graduated. He hoped the other boy’s old feelings for him were gone. He felt a little guilty using his underclassman for his own personal growth. But it was clear between them that this was casual, and Sagawa didn’t seem to have a problem with it. He still wasn’t out yet.

When they said goodbye at graduation, Akaashi left him with a thumb drive containing his notes and papers from classes and an invitation to call if he needed any study tips. Sagawa said he’d keep it in mind. Akaashi wasn’t sad. He felt good. And free.

Years later, Sagawa was a happy man living a very openly gay life in Kyoto. When people asked, he’d tell them he came out after a senpai he’d had a crush on had picked him up in the cutest way possible. No words, just a subtle hand hidden behind a bench at a boring mixer full of other nerdy people. He had no regrets.

The rest of Bokuto’s winter passed by in a haze. He went to practice, and he played in games. The world moved around him, and he moved through it. He watched as the snow melted and the days grew longer. The wind less bitter and the colors brighter. He smiled at girls, and he smiled at boys, and sometimes he kissed them, and sometimes he took them home. He trained, and he cooked meals. His body grew stronger, and his cut shots sharper. He made his teammates laugh and their fans cheer. He got crowds on their feet and lit up every room he entered. He posed for pictures and sold merchandise. He inspired and he charmed and he smiled. He went to restaurants and parties, and he walked through parks. He watched the boats go in and out of the harbor and the first Spring flowers start to grow in the grass. Through tears that no one saw but the walls of his bedroom. Inside, he hadn’t moved in months. His heart and his mind still frozen in time on a balcony in November. On a mountain screaming into the night.

Chapter Text

In late April, a small reunion happened in Miyagi. Midori, Nishinoya, Akaashi, Yachi, and Asahi packed into a car and made the four hour drive up north for Kiyoko and Tanaka’s wedding.

It was a small event. After all, the couple was still very young and couldn’t afford a big party. Tanaka, being Tanaka, had proposed when he was only 19, but Kiyoko had made him wait a few years until they were more stable in their jobs. Even now he’d only just turned 22. Akaashi couldn’t imagine getting married at this age, but he realized with a jolt that at the age of 19, he’d also been certain he would love Bokuto forever. And he’d told him as much.

He folded his arms in the backseat and tried to prepare himself. This was the first time he’d be seeing Bokuto since their breakup five months ago.

“Mi-chan how much longer?” Noya was on the other side of the backseat from Akaashi. Yachi was squished between them, and Asahi was in the passenger seat. They’d tried to organize by size. Midori was the smallest person in the car, but unfortunately she was also the only one with a driver’s license. Akaashi’s long legs granted him the seat behind her.

“Yuu shut up we’re still like two hours out,” Midori retorted.

“Can we stop soon? My legs hurt.”

“We can trade places, I really don’t mind!” Asahi suggested.

“Asahi stop. Don’t be a pushover,” Midori said. Asahi jumped in his seat when she held a finger out at his face. “He’s like a foot shorter than you. Besides, if Keiji is fine back there, then you should be too.” She whipped her hand behind her to point the finger towards Noya. “Stop complaining.”

“Hey! Whoa! A foot is a gross exaggeration, I am 5’5”!” Noya lied. He unbuckled his seatbelt and swung his legs across Yachi and Akaashi’s laps. Yachi’s eyes went wide but she didn’t complain. Akaashi just rolled his eyes. “Also!” Noya continued. “Keiji is fine because he’s behind you, so he has more leg room than me!”

“I can try and scoot further up,” Asahi offered. He reached down to try and pull his seat closer.

“Asahi!” Midori snapped. “No! He’s just being a little bitch, don’t enable him!”

Asahi nervously took his hand off the seat lever and sat back up.

“Don’t call me a bitch!” Noya snapped back. “Bitch!”

Midori flipped him off without turning around.

Akaashi couldn’t help but snort under his breath. Nishinoya and Midori were a good match. They were both more than a little intense, but somehow balanced each other out. Despite the crazy lives they led, they were always perfectly in sync when it came down to it. They’d always been more stable than him and Bokuto.

They did stop 30 minutes later so Midori could pee.

“You knew we were gonna be in the car, why’d you drink so much water?!?” Noya shouted.

“You’re the one who wanted to stop anyway!” She shouted back as she slammed the car door. “Go stretch or something!”

She walked into the building while Noya ran around the rest stop in circles. The remaining three sat in the car in silence. Eventually Yachi spoke. “They were like that in high school too. Always arguing, but they really love each other.”

Asahi smiled. “Yeah. I don’t think either could find another person who could keep up with them.”

Akaashi agreed. After the wedding Nishinoya was jetting off to Bangkok to start his solo tour of Southeast Asia, and Midori was going back to LA to start working on her next album. But they didn’t seem worried at all. Meanwhile he and Bokuto hadn’t survived the three-hour distance from Tokyo to Osaka.

Akaashi swallowed a lump in his throat. Of the four of them, he’d soon be the only one left in Tokyo. He suddenly felt desperately inadequate. What did that say about him that the three people he’d been closest to had all jetted off to pursue their dreams, and he was staying behind? Asahi was right. He’d never be able to keep up. Even for love. Bokuto had run too far ahead, and Akaashi had found he no longer had the will to chase him.

When they finally arrived in Miyagi, Midori dropped Asahi and Yachi off at their homes before heading to Nishinoya’s house where the three of them would be staying. Noya’s grandfather Mineo helped them carry stuff up the stairs. Akaashi felt both very awkward and very tall. Mineo was the same height as Midori.

That night, as always, Nishinoya fell asleep first. College volleyball had forced him and Bokuto into stringent sleep schedules while Akaashi and Midori had a tendency to stay up all night if given the opportunity. At 2 am they were still sitting downstairs watching reality tv. They knew they’d regret it in the morning, but that never seemed to matter at night.

“Kou will be there tomorrow,” Midori said softly as the credits rolled between episodes. “You gonna be ok?”

Akaashi sighed and sipped his tea. “I think so. I guess I’ll know when I see him.”

“Are you looking forward to it? Or nervous?”

“Nervous, I think. Definitely not looking forward to it. I might just wanna get it over with though. I know we’ll have to be back in each other’s lives eventually. You and Noya can’t keep doing this go-between shit forever.”

Midori leaned her head on his shoulder. She was a very touchy person, but despite his own awkwardness, Akaashi didn’t mind it anymore. “It’s up to you guys,” she sighed. “I’ll always be his friend too. But we’d never force you to be in the same room if you didn’t want to.”

“I just want it to be a non-issue though. I want us both to move on. So that us being in the same room isn’t something you even have to think about.”

“Have you moved on?”

“I think so,” Akaashi sighed. “I hope so.”

“Maybe you’ll know when you see him.”

“Yeah,” Akaashi sighed. “Maybe.”

“What are you hoping happens?”

“I don’t know.” Akaashi let his head fall onto the back of the sofa. “That we say hi and then spend the rest of the day on opposite sides of the room?”

“That is a possibility you could make happen.”

“I’d feel bad though.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s all just so weird.” Akaashi didn’t know what he wanted from Bokuto these days. He didn’t want to see him, but he also felt that being at the same event as him without exchanging any words would be far too strange.

But at the same time, talking to him sounded dangerous. He wasn’t sure if he’d see him and want to fight, or if he’d feel like a stranger, or if they’d get along well, or if he’d fall in love with him again. And Akaashi didn’t like uncertainty.

“Yeah,” Midori murmured. “It is weird.”

He knew she didn’t mean anything by it, but he still winced. For four years it had been him, Koutarou, Noya, and Midori. Inseparable. Now it was the opposite. And the fracture of their group hit him almost as hard as the breakup.

“Sorry,” he couldn’t help saying.

“Don’t be,” she said. “It’s better if you’re happy.”

Akaashi whispered a thanks, but the truth was he wasn’t sure he really was happy. He didn’t want Bokuto back, of that he was sure; but now his heart was bitter and floundering, unsure what to do next.

A similar conversation had played out in Daichi’s home that evening. Bokuto sat on the floor of the guest room with Kuroo, Daichi, and Suga.

“Asahi just texted me,” Suga said. “I guess they arrived.”

“Who’s they again?” Daichi asked.

“Asahi, Nishinoya, Midori-chan, Ya-chan, and Akaashi.”

Kuroo’s eyes flicked to Bokuto to see if he responded. Bokuto was trying so hard not to react that he may as well have leapt to his feet. “You gonna be ok?” Kuroo asked.

Bokuto looked up and nodded. A flash of guilt crossed Suga’s face, but Bokuto didn’t blame him. All he knew was that they’d broken up. They hadn’t kept that close of contact with all the guys in Miyagi.

“I’ll be fine,” Bokuto said. “I knew he was gonna be there, so…” he trailed off and shrugged.

“How are you guys?” Daichi asked.

“We’re nothing,” Bokuto answered honestly. “We haven’t spoken since we broke up.”

“I’m sorry,” Suga said. “Do you wanna talk about what happened?”

Bokuto shrugged again. “We just decided we were better as—” he had been about to say friends, but then realized they weren’t that at all. “The relationship had run its course,” he said instead, switching to another vague cliche. “It just wasn’t working anymore, so we decided to call it.”

Bokuto didn’t know why he always said we. Pretending it was a mutual decision was easier than admitting that Akaashi had blindsided him, even to himself. Besides, it wasn’t like he had fought at all to keep them together. So, it may as well have been mutual.

Kuroo, who had a better idea of what actually happened, decided to keep it to himself.

The Karasuno alumni nodded sympathetically. “Sorry Bokuto,” they both murmured.

“What do you think it’ll be like seeing him then?” Suga asked.

“I think it’ll be fine. I doubt we’ll even talk that much, so it’ll probably just be an awkward greeting.” Bokuto knew that was what was most likely to happen, even if it wasn’t what he wanted.

Akaashi still lived with Noya, and Midori was his best friend, which bummed Bokuto out more than he wanted to admit. Noya was his best friend. It would kill him if he stuck with Akaashi at the wedding and didn’t come hang out with Bokuto instead. Then again, Noya and Midori were both in the wedding party, so they wouldn’t be around to buffer until the end of the reception. Meaning he and Akaashi most likely would stay away from each other.

He wouldn’t admit it to his friends, but he’d been looking forward to this day for months. He hoped that seeing Akaashi again would be easy. That their eyes would lock, and they’d smile at each other across the room, and Bokuto could walk up to him, and they’d talk, and it would be fun and flirty, and the right words would just fall into place.

But he knew that was likely just a fantasy.

The ceremony went off without a hitch. Bokuto sat with Kuroo and the other Karasuno alumni from their class. Suga and Asahi were both in tears by the end. Daichi just politely smiled like a proud dad at an elementary school theater production.

The first thing Bokuto had done when he walked in was look for Akaashi. He’d spotted him sitting on the other side of the aisle with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. He was wearing a simple, well-fitted black suit with a skinny black tie. He looked thin — the pants of his suit seemed to have been altered to taper with his legs — but he was still achingly handsome. As the newlywed couple walked back down the aisle, Bokuto watched Akaashi as he clapped with a polite little smile on his face.

Despite the rosy image he’d hoped would happen upon seeing him again, when he looked at him, Bokuto’s stomach hardened into a knot, and he started remembering all the bad things that had happened, and the anticipation was replaced with fear. What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if we fight again? What if he’s already dating someone new?

“—kuto? Bokuto?”

Bokuto looked up. They were in the reception hall now. Bokuto was sitting at a table with Kuroo and Kenma when he had spaced out staring at Akaashi again. Akaashi was standing across the room holding a glass of water and leaning his elbow against a tall cocktail table. He’d been talking to Kageyama about something, but the other setter had just been pulled away by Yachi to take a class reunion photo with Tsukki and Yamaguchi. Hinata, sadly, was still in Brazil. Bokuto would have loved to see him.

“What?” he asked.

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Just asking if you want more food. The buffet is still open.”

“Oh. No, I’m good.”

“Dude.” Kuroo’s eyes followed Bokuto’s gaze. “Don’t go over there.”

“Why not?”

“Because you look insane right now.”

“I do not!” Bokuto protested. “Kenma, do I look insane right now?”

Kenma glanced up from his phone. His long hair was tied up in a bun, making his large eyes look even bigger. Bokuto noticed he’d gotten a lot more attractive since he had found his YouTube and Twitch success. He wondered whether money simply made people try harder, or if skincare products were just the first thing they tended to reach for when cash became expendable.

“Not any more than usual,” Kenma replied. “But you still shouldn’t go over there.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ll say something stupid. If he wanted to talk to you, he would have by now.”

“Fuck, Kozume, that was harsh.”

“Sorry,” Kenma said, not sounding very sorry at all.

“Well, I’m getting food.” Kuroo stood up and walked back towards the buffet line. “Don’t be an idiot.”

Bokuto let his eyes drift back to Akaashi. He was checking his phone now, and Bokuto thought he still looked like he belonged on a runway. He sighed loudly.

“If you go, I won’t stop you,” Kenma said softly next to him.

“Really?”

“I already told you what I think. If you still wanna go, then that’s on you. I’m just predicting how it’ll play out. Feel free to try and prove me wrong.”

Bokuto looked back at Akaashi. He wondered how long he had left to decide. Akaashi didn’t like to approach people, but people liked to approach him, so this window of opportunity probably wouldn’t remain open much longer.

Bokuto stood.

As Bokuto got closer and closer, Akaashi breathed to calm his nerves. He had, of course, been aware of him the whole day, wondering if this would happen. He still looked like Bokuto. Which meant he still looked like the person Akaashi had fallen asleep with every night for years and the person he’d thought he’d spend the rest of his life with.

Akaashi still thought he was beautiful. His muscles might have gotten even bigger. Akaashi tried to force away images of his naked shoulders and back and bring his mind back to the present enough to have a conversation with him.

“Hey,” Bokuto gave a little smile as he came to stand next to Akaashi.

“Hi,” Akaashi tried to smile back, but it felt more like he was just pursing his lips.

“How are you?”

“Fine. How are you?”

“Fine.”

Awkward silence ensued.

“Um,” Bokuto rocked back and forth on his toes. “It’s good to see you.”

Akaashi glanced up at him. “Yeah. Yeah you too.”

They made awkward small talk about the wedding and their friends and MSBY. Bokuto’s first season in the V. League had just come to a close. Akaashi was grateful it gave them something to talk about. He started to feel a little more relaxed, and Bokuto also seemed to be loosening up. But soon the silence hit again. Desperate for something to say but for some reason reluctant to walk away, Akaashi turned and asked, “Is that a new suit?”

Bokuto glanced down at himself. “Oh yeah. My old one didn’t really fit anymore. Like up here,” he pointed at his shoulders and upper arms. “My legs too.”

“Oh. I see.” So he was even bigger. Akaashi tried not to sigh. He himself seemed to get slimmer every day, even with Noya constantly reminding him to eat. “Where’s it from?”

“I’m not sure actually. Somewhere in downtown Osaka. I forgot to make sure I had something to wear until way too late. And most places don’t have anything in my size just sitting out, so we had to look around. A friend took me.”

“Ah. Well, it looks nice.”

“Thanks! Yeah, she knows the shopping district really well, so I got lucky.”

Akaashi’s mind froze on the word ‘she’. He’d inferred from conversations with Nishinoya that Bokuto had started hooking up with girls after they broke up. He knew it shouldn’t make a difference. He’d always known Bokuto was attracted to both. But he couldn’t shake that it bothered him. And he didn’t wanna think about Bokuto sleeping with anyone. Not that he had a right to complain. He hadn’t exactly been celibate himself. “Oh. Yeah cool.”

“Yup.” There was silence again. “You ok…?” Bokuto asked slowly.

Akaashi realized he’d been frowning and biting the inside of his cheek. He deliberately relaxed his face. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure? You look annoyed.”

“I’m not annoyed.” Although now he was annoyed that Bokuto had noticed and pointed it out.

“Wait are you bothered that I went shopping with someone?” Now Bokuto sounded annoyed too.

Fuck, Akaashi thought. “Nope.”

“She was a friend, Keiji. Not that that should matter.”

Are you sleeping with her? Akaashi had to fight to keep the words from slipping out of his mouth. “I didn’t ask, Koutarou.”

“I could tell you wanted to.”

“But I didn’t. Maybe you just wanted to share.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“You broke up with me remember?”

“Haven’t you been telling people it was mutual? Guess it’s only on me when we’re arguing and you’re trying to absolve yourself of blame.” Shutupshutupshutup! Akaashi shouted at himself.

Bokuto was exhaling loudly beside him as if trying to hold something back. “So we’re arguing now?” His voice was sharp.

“I’m just saying you should be honest.”

“Like you were honest about being bothered by me clothes shopping? I’m allowed to move on Keiji.”

“So which is she? You having a friend or you moving on?”

Bokuto’s hand balled into a fist. “You don’t get to ask me that.”

“Just saying, you don’t seem to want to clarify. Earlier you said—”

“Can you not do that!” Bokuto snapped. “For once can you please just not argue every little fucking detail? How hard is it to let something go? We’re not even fucking together anymore so why do you have to be right about everything?!”

Akaashi seethed and turned his whole body towards him. “You’re right, Koutarou. We’re not together anymore. So why are you even—”

“Okokokok hold up!”

Akaashi felt a hand push hard on his chest. He looked down and saw Nishinoya actively shoving him and Bokuto away from each other. “Guys can you not?” Noya sounded like he was trying very hard to keep his voice calm and his face neutral. “We’re at a fucking wedding, remember?”

Properly chastised, Akaashi and Bokuto let a little of the air out of their lungs and took a step back.

“Sorry,” they said in unison.

“I’m gonna go.” Akaashi put his hands up and started to walk away. “Bye Koutarou.”

“Yeah. Bye.”

Akaashi left Noya with Bokuto and went to collapse at a table beside Asahi. “Fuck,” he groaned. He put his face on the table in his arms.

“It’s ok. Don’t worry about it,” Asahi said politely.

Akaashi glared at him through a gap in his arms. “Are you saying that because it actually was ok or because you’re scared of drama?”

Asahi looked nervous. Daichi and Suga, who were also at the table, deliberately looked away and pretended to be enraptured by a centerpiece. “Um, both? I don’t think anyone really noticed.”

“I hope so,” Akaashi said as he put his head back down. “Fuck, I suck so much. I think that was my fault.”

“It’s ok. It happens.”

Akaashi gave himself ten seconds to wallow before snapping his head back off the table and attempting to put a normal wedding guest face back on. “Ok. I’m fine.”

Bokuto wanted to throw the glass he was holding. He muttered one more sorry to Nishinoya before spinning and walking outside. The wedding was in Sendai, and the reception hall was right on the coast. It was golden hour and absolutely beautiful. Bokuto hated it.

“What happened?” Noya had followed him outside.

“I don’t know!” Bokuto pouted as he kicked a rock into the air. “I said hi, and we were fine just talking about volleyball and random shit, and then I said I went shopping for a suit, and he got mad cause it was with a girl, but it wasn’t even really about that, we just started arguing about nothing. It was stupid.”

“That is stupid.”

“I know! Damn it! He just drives me nuts! Always has to be right and shit!” Bokuto gave in and flung the glass as hard as he could into the ocean. He’d add an extra 1000 yen to his wedding present.

He was furious at himself. He’d wanted to talk to Akaashi for months, and as soon as he’d gotten the chance, they’d reverted right back to their old selves. No wonder they had broken up. After months of romanticizing, the truth of it was all coming back to him.

“Why’d you even go talk to him?” Noya shouted. “I could have told you that would happen!”

Bokuto stopped kicking things in the dirt and stood still. “I wanted to,” he said softly. “I wanted to talk to him.”

Noya crossed his arms and stared off at the horizon. Bokuto looked and remembered how intimidating he was on the court. In every game they played, he had always been the smallest one there, but his energy had a huge presence. Other teams had always said, ‘damn that libero was cool. Can you believe he’s 5’4”?’

Noya and Bokuto had been amazing together. Bookending their team with passion and enthusiasm on both offense and defense. Bokuto missed those days a lot.

“Do you still have feelings for him?” Noya asked.

“Yes,” Bokuto answered honestly. There was no point in denying it. Despite what had happened just minutes before, his heart and body were already wanting to go chasing after Akaashi again. He wanted to be next to him.

“Well, you either gotta tell him that and say you wanna get back together, or you gotta leave him alone until you can move on.”

“I don’t…I don’t know if I wanna get back together. I mean we can’t even be in the same room with each other.”

Noya threw up his arms, exasperated. “Then what do you want Koutarou??”

“I don’t know!” Bokuto kicked another rock. “I wanna make him know how much he hurt me. I want him to apologize. I want him to hurt. I want him to love me again. I don’t know what I want, I just miss him!” Bokuto collapsed into a squat on the ground. When Nishinoya didn’t say anything, he turned to look at him. “What do I do?”

Noya rubbed his face. “I don’t know, Kou. I wish I did, but I’m not good at this either. We’re both idiots, you know! I have no idea what to tell you.”

“Fuck.”

“Sorry.”

“Should I get back together with him?”

“I don’t know man!” Noya threw his hands in the air again. “I’m not your love guru, I just want you guys to stop fighting.”

“What would Midori say?”

“I don’t know, probably something wise. But you know how she and Keiji are with each other.”

“You think she’d take his side?”

“I think she’d tell you there aren’t sides. Because the argument was stupid.”

Bokuto groaned into his knees. “I hate this. Did Ryuu and Kiyoko see us arguing? I’d feel really bad.”

“I don’t think so. But they’d understand.”

Bokuto released his legs and stood back up. He brushed dirt off his new suit and turned to face Noya. “Thanks for listening,” he murmured.

“Yeah, no problem.” Noya ran his hands through his hair. They hadn’t had many conversations like this in college. Their friendship had been built on volleyball and a mutual love of screaming and getting drunk at clubs and commiserating about their overly ambitious partners. But they loved each other. And they’d do their best to be emotional support when needed. “Sorry I wasn’t more help.”

“Sorry I’m a mess.”

“Nah, you’re good. Getting dumped sucks.”

“Agreed,” Bokuto sighed as they walked back inside.

It was a quiet ride back to Nishinoya’s house. Akaashi stared out the window of the backseat while Noya and Midori spoke quietly to each other up front. Akaashi hadn’t spoken to Noya since he’d gone after Bokuto. He wanted to ask what they had talked about, but he was terrified Noya would be upset with him too. They’d gotten much closer in the past year when it was just the two of them in the apartment, but Bokuto and Noya had always been more natural friends.

“Hey Noya,” he said softly.

“Yeah?” Noya turned around in the passenger seat.

“I’m sorry.”

Noya pursed his lips. “It’s ok man. Don’t worry about it.”

Akaashi nodded. “What did Koutarou tell you?” It was out before he could stop it.

He saw Noya shoot a glance at Midori before speaking. But she pointedly continued looking at the road. “He felt bad too. He doesn’t wanna fight.”

Akaashi looked down and fiddled with his fingers. “I don’t want to either. I thought it’d be ok. Seeing each other. We didn’t even make it ten minutes.”

“Yeah. Well,” Noya was clearly getting out of his comfort zone. “There’s a lot of feelings there. So it’s natural I guess.”

“Feelings?” Akaashi frowned.

Noya winced. “Shit. Just. You know. Residual tension and stuff. Cause you haven’t seen each other. And it was like, a clean break and everything.”

Akaashi could see Midori making a disappointed face in the drivers seat. He suspected Noya had just dropped something he wasn’t supposed to and made a mental note to talk to her later. “Right. Still, I’m sorry. It was really immature. I should apologize to the Tanakas later.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Noya said. “Honestly it wasn’t bad. I only noticed because I was looking for it.”

Akaashi winced. “Well, that makes me feel like shit. You had no faith in us to be civil?”

Noya looked down. “It’s not that. I was just ready for it. In case.”

Akaashi leaned his head against the window. “Damn. That’s embarrassing.”

Later that night he went to find Midori once he was sure Noya was asleep. “Hey,” he said as he came down the stairs and entered the kitchen.

“Hey.” She looked up at him from where she’d been eating leftovers directly out of the fridge. “Don’t judge me.”

Akaashi responded by wedging himself in next to her and grabbing the chopsticks out of her hand. They passed them back and forth as they ate cold noodles out of Tupperware. “I’m awful,” he said.

“No, you’re not. But what happened?”

“I started thinking about him having a girlfriend, and I got angry.”

“Did he say he has one?”

“No. It was more the idea that he might.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I thought I was moving on. But maybe I’m just pretending to.”

“It’s ok, Keiji. It takes time.”

“I don’t love him anymore. But it still sucks to think about.”

“He doesn’t have one by the way. A girlfriend. Yuu is sure.”

Akaashi felt some of the tension leave his body. Then he felt guilty for feeling relieved. “Oh. Ok.”

Midori looked at him. “It’s ok to be happy about that. As long as you don’t say anything to him. Or make him feel bad about it.”

Akaashi nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me, honey. Or Yuu. Or Ryuu and Kiyoko.”

Akaashi winced and leaned back against the counter by the fridge. “Right.”

Midori took the chopsticks from him. “It’s ok, Keiji.” She closed the fridge door and threw them in the sink. “But moving on has been really hard for him. I think he was hoping that he’d see you today and suddenly everything would be fine. He’s fragile, you know? And he cares a lot.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“You don’t have to take care of him or walk on eggshells or anything. Just be kind. You owe him that at least.”

Akaashi nodded. “Think he’s still awake?”

Midori laughed. “It’s Kou. If we’ve reached the eating out of the fridge part of the night, he’s probably been asleep for hours.”

“Right,” he smiled. “Imagine having a sleep schedule.”

“Couldn’t be me.”

Akaashi rested his chin on her head and hugged her. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” She hugged him back. “You gonna be ok?”

He nodded.

“Ok. If I don’t sleep soon, Yuu’s gonna kill me. We’ve got a lot of people to see tomorrow before going back.”

Akaashi smirked at her and shook his head. “Ugh. People who were popular in high school.”

She exaggeratedly tossed her hair over her shoulder. “And what about it? Don’t be bitter Keiji.”

He laughed. “Shut up.”

She smiled at him. “Goodnight. I love you.”

He shook his head again. “You say that too much. You’re back in Japan you know.”

“They don’t say it enough here. I love you, and I want you to know that. Now get some sleep.”

“I’ll try.”

Akaashi went up to the guest room and climbed into bed. He typed out a message.

Hey. I’d call but I know you’re probably sleeping. Just wanted to say I’m sorry. It was good to see you.

Akaashi hit send with a sigh and put his phone away. He rolled over and tried to sleep.

Chapter Text

Bokuto had been staring at the text for 30 minutes. He’d grabbed his phone off of the side table of Daichi’s guest room right after waking up. Upon seeing Akaashi’s name, he’d practically fallen out of bed, and he’d been typing and erasing ever since.

“Kuroo!” He whisper shouted at his friend sleeping on the floor. “Kuroo wake up!”

Kuroo moaned in his sleep.

“Wake up!” Bokuto threw a pillow at him.

“What the fuck?” He groaned.

“I need your help.”

“With what?” Kuroo asked groggily.

“Help me text Keiji back.”

“Bokuto, oh my god.” Kuroo put his head back down, but he gave in with a sigh. “What did he say?”

Bokuto scrambled out of bed to show him. Kuroo read the message then turned and glared. “That’s it? Dude, just say thanks and you’re sorry too.”

“You don’t think I should say more?”

“Probably not. I mean,” Kuroo checked the date on the previous text in the chain. It was in November. “It’s not like you guys are really talking.”

“Dude, what the hell?!”

“Oh sorry, is that a sore topic?”

Bokuto hit him with the pillow. “Should I call him. He said he’d have called me, so maybe I should call back.”

Kuroo shot him a knowing look. “I think you should probably just text.”

Bokuto sighed. “Fine.” He typed out Hey Keiji! Thanks! I’m really sorry too. And don’t worry you can always call. It was nice to see you too! He showed it to Kuroo.

“Fine.”

“You sure?”

“I mean the ‘you can always call’ is a bit much. But it’s ok.”

“Really?”

“And it’s a lot of exclamation points.”

“Shit. I’ll fix it.”

This went on for another 30 minutes. Eventually he settled on. Thanks, I’m sorry too. It was good to see you. Glad you’re doing well.

“Ok,” Kuroo exhaled in relief after he hit send. “Can I please get dressed now?”

“Yes. Fine. Thank you.” Bokuto was still staring at the message waiting for Akaashi to text back.

Kuroo stood up, then looked back at him, then facepalmed. “Bo. Come on. Relax. Let’s go eat breakfast.” Bokuto didn’t move, so Kuroo reached out and grabbed the phone from his hands. “And I’m keeping this.”

“Kuroo—” Bokuto reached out from his seat on the floor and tried to snatch the phone from Kuroo’s grasp.

“You need to chill! It’s been almost six months. You’re never gonna move on if you keep doing this shit. And I say that from a place of love.”

Bokuto was still fighting the urge to leap for his phone. But reason won out, and he gave up. He sat back on his heals, and rubbed his face with his palms. “I know. I can’t help it. I feel like I’m going crazy. Why do I still love him this much?”

Kuroo paused on his way to his overnight bag. “What?”

“I said I’m going crazy.”

“No no. The other part. You still love him?”

Bokuto looked up. “Yeah. I thought that was obvious.”

“Aw fuck, man. I’m sorry.” Kuroo walked over and hugged Bokuto’s head against his hip. “I thought it was getting better.”

“So did I.” Bokuto’s voice was muffled against Kuroo’s leg. “Then I saw him again, and he’s still perfect, and I really, really miss him.”

“You guys weren’t happy together Bo,” Kuroo said gently.

“I know. But now I can’t remember why.”

Kuroo let him sit in his feelings until Bokuto pulled his head back. “Sorry. It is better honestly. I’m dating people, and I’m trying not to think about him as much. I’ll get there.”

Bokuto was not, in fact, getting there. That evening he flew back to Osaka, and when he turned his phone back on at the airport, Akaashi still hadn’t texted him back. Bokuto couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d never been good at forcing his mind onto or off of things it didn’t want to be on, and his mind was often on Akaashi to begin with.

When he got home, he sat on his sofa and flipped his phone around in his hand a few times. Eventually he hit call. Just when he was starting to lose hope, Akaashi picked up.

“Hello?”

“Keiji! Hi!” Bokuto’s hand gripped the sofa cushion.

“Hey…” Akaashi sounded confused. “What’s going on?”

“Um. I just wanted to call. Make sure we’re ok.”

“Oh,” Akaashi said. “Well, yeah, we’re ok.”

“Cool. How are you?”

“I’m…fine. I’m still at Noya’s house.”

“Oh nice.”

There was silence for a few seconds until Akaashi spoke, his voice nervous and shaky. “Look um, I promise I’m not trying to start something or anything like that. But…why are you calling me?”

Bokuto winced and keeled over on the sofa. “I guess I just…I don’t know…wanted to talk?”

“About what…?”

“Nothing really. But in your text you said you would have called if I wasn’t sleeping, so I figured I should call you. And maybe you wanted to talk?” Bokuto tried not to curse aloud as he rolled off the sofa and hit the ground hard.

“Oh I see,” Akaashi said. “Well, no, I just said that because I thought it would be better if I apologized on the phone rather than in a text. But that’s it.”

“Oh.”

“Koutarou, I feel like you’re not telling me something.”

“No, it’s just, I don’t know what to say. I spent like an hour trying to figure out how to respond to that message and then all day trying to decide if I should call you or not, and now I can’t think of anything to say, but I don’t wanna hang up. So I’m rambling. You can tell. You can hear it. I can too. I don’t know, that’s all. I’m sorry.” FUUUCKKKK

“Did you have something you wanted to talk about?” Akaashi asked slowly. “That is making you not want to hang up?”

It was killing Bokuto how confused Akaashi sounded. He just wanted to talk to him. About anything. And not fight. He missed his voice. “I don’t know, Keiji.”

Akaashi sighed. Bokuto could picture him pacing around the room with his thin shoulders hunched up. “Were you just trying to chat again?”

“Maybe?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Koutarou.”

“Why not?” Bokuto rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

“Because it’s kind of weird right? We haven’t talked in months.”

“What if I want to be friends?”

“Is that…is that actually what you want?”

Bokuto shrank into a ball. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “Do you not want to be friends?”

“Kou—” Akaashi cut himself off. He was starting to sound frustrated and took a deep breath. “I don’t think we’re ready for that.”

“When will we be?”

“How am I supposed to answer that? When we can go to a wedding without yelling at each other. How about that?”

Bokuto rolled onto his side in the fetal position. “I’m sorry. I really wanted it to be ok. I didn’t want to make you mad. I just wanted to talk to you.”

“I know. I wanted it to be ok too. I got angry at something I don’t have a right to be angry about. And I really am sorry. But I guess we’re not quite over it yet.”

Bokuto felt a glimmer of hope at that. Did Akaashi still have feelings for him too? He unfurled his body and rolled onto his stomach. “If we’re not over it, should we…should we talk about us?” There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Bokuto started to panic. “Keiji?”

“Sorry. What are you saying? You wanna talk about us?”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“Koutarou…” Akaashi sounded sad. “What would we even say?”

“Maybe we broke up too fast! It’s been almost six months and I still…” he stopped himself before he could say ‘I still love you.’ “I still want this. I wanna see if maybe we can fix it. I don’t think I was ready to end things.” Bokutuo squeezed his eyes shut as he braced for the response.

“But… We weren’t happy anymore. We both wanted out.”

“I don’t know if I did though.”

“Kou,” Akaashi said gently. “How long after we broke up did it take for you to sleep with someone else?”

Bokuto felt like the wind got knocked out of him. “What?”

“I promise I won’t get upset. Please, just tell me.”

“A month,” he whispered. “About.” Bokuto winced and put a fist to his forehead when he heard Akaashi’s long slow exhale.

“That’s not very long.”

“I’m sorry.” He curled back into a ball on the floor.

“You don’t have to be,” Akaashi said. “But that’s kind of my point. You moved on so fast. It’s like you were ready for it.”

“That’s not…that’s not how I saw it.”

“Kou…”

“How long was it for you?” Bokuto asked and held his breath.

Akaashi paused before responding. “Three months.”

Bokuto felt his heart break again. “Oh,” was all he could say. Until that moment, he’d been able to hold out a little hope that he was still the only person Akaashi had been with. He wanted to ask more questions but didn’t think his heart could handle it.

“I’m sorry Koutarou,” Akaashi said gently. “But I don’t wanna get back together.”

“Ok.” Bokuto curled into a tighter ball.

“But I don’t think we’re ready to be friends yet either.”

“So what does that mean?”

“Maybe we should just stay away from each other for a while. I think trying to talk will make it worse.” There was a moment of silence where Bokuto couldn’t think of anything to say. “Koutarou?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Ok.” He squeezed the words out around the lump in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Akaashi said softly. “I really am.”

“I know. Me too.”

“I’m gonna go, ok? Good luck with everything.”

“Yeah…you too. Bye Keiji.”

“Bye.”

Bokuto waited until he heard the call drop. Then he started to cry. He wanted to call Noya or Midori, but they were in the same house as Akaashi right now. He was worried if he called Kuroo he’d just say “I told you so.” So he did the worst thing possible and texted MSBYs brand new setter.

Can we go out tonight? I wanna get fucked up

Miya Atsumu texted back, LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOO

A week after the wedding and the phone call that had felt like a second breakup, Akaashi went with Nishinoya to the airport. Noya had packed up all his things into boxes which he left in the corner of his room. He told Akaashi if he ever needed the space, he could just send them to the townhouse, but Akaashi had no plans for the room. And he wanted Noya to stay there whenever he came back to visit. They said their final goodbye, and Akaashi watched his last remaining roommate disappear into the security line with no return date. It felt like a final closure on his old life.

Not quite ready to return to his empty apartment, he went to Yachi’s place and ending up helping her edit her graphic design project. Keiji wanted to make the background more opaque so the images popped more, but he couldn’t figure out the setting. He opened google to look it up, but as soon as he opened the browser he froze. “Hey Ya-chan…” he called out behind him.

Yachi trotted out of the kitchen where she’d been getting snacks. “What is it?”

She found Akaashi staring at the computer screen. He had clicked on an article entitled “Actress Ono Aoi spotted in Osaka with national volleyball team player Bokuto Koutarou.”

“Oh no…” Yachi sat down next to Akaashi as he scrolled through the paparazzi photos of his ex-boyfriend making out with a famous drama actress in a parking garage outside a club. “How’d you find this?”

“It just came up as suggested on the google homepage,” Akaashi said.

“Oh dear…” Yachi put her face between her hands. “I still follow volleyball news. And I just watched one of Aoi-san’s shows! That’s probably my fault. Stupid targeted ads! You ok?”

“Yup,” Akaashi muttered as he skimmed the article. “Just fine.”

The article mostly focused on the actress and what a hit this would be to her career, but they wrote a description of Bokuto too.

“Bokuto Koutarou, 23, is an outside hitter on Japan’s National Volleyball Team and ace of the division 1 club team MSBY Black Jackals.”

Akaashi saw that Miya Atsumu appeared in a couple of the photos too. They had clearly been partying.

Too frustrated to look anymore, he closed the tab, grabbed a gyoza off the plate Yachi was holding, and roughly tore into it with his teeth. “How do I make this darker?” He pointed back at the project he’d been working on.

“Aka-kun,” Yachi said softly. “It’s ok to be upset.”

“I know,” he huffed. “I am.”

Yachi took the mouse from him and darkened the corner of the page. “Oh, that does look better. Thanks.”

“I mean that’s so trashy, right?” Akaashi grabbed another gyoza. “He’s just out on the street!”

“Yeah it’s…not a great look,” Yachi admitted.

“You know he wanted to get back together?!” Akaashi struggled to keep his voice under control as he started to fume.

“What?”

“Yup. A week ago. One week! He called me.”

“I’m sorry,” Yachi looked at him sadly.

“Don’t be,” he scoffed. “Clearly I did the right thing saying no.”

“Yeah, I guess… but still…”

Akaashi sat back and tried to calm down. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Aka-kun,” Yachi tried. “He’s probably not actually dating her.”

“Oh I know. He’s just ho-ing his way through the Kansai region. Not sure if that’s better or worse.”

Yachi pulled her legs into her chest. “Maybe you should try and meet people too. It might help you move on.”

Akaashi sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t really think I’m that type of person.”

Yachi reached out and grabbed his hands. “That’s ok! We can still try it. Remember what Nishinoya-kun said! We do stay home too much, and we let ourselves spiral. We should try and go out. It can help get your mind off things. I can call Asahi-san!”

Akaashi almost laughed. “You, me, and Asahi don’t exactly make a good ‘going out’ group.”

Yachi grimaced. “True. All our exciting friends moved.”

Akaashi smirked.

“Well, we could try and go to a party at my school!” Yachi continued optimistically. “I’ve heard they have them.”

Akaashi laughed. “Ya-chan it’s a college, they definitely have parties. I’ve been to them after runway shows. Arts kids go pretty wild.”

“Oh right,” Yachi looked nervous. “Well, I’m willing to give it a try if you are.”

Akaashi sighed.

That Friday they gathered up all the social capacity two anxious introverts could muster at once. They met up with some of Yachi’s classmates and boldly walked into the drama circle’s club house.

It was loud and gross, but Akaashi just looked down and made his way towards the drinks table. While he was there, he ran into one of the fashion design students he’d worked with in the past. And after one drink he started to comfortably talk to her and get introduced to her friends.

Akaashi was graduated and working now, but he still found himself making deals with two new photography students to pose for their projects. He was flattered by the requests and feeling a little spiteful as well.

Akaashi had another drink and continued to make his way through the house. Alcohol was giving him confidence and increasing his desire to be noticed. If Bokuto was going to show up in the tabloids for bringing Japan’s elite under his spell, then Akaashi would sure as shit use his own charms to part the crowd at some stupid college party.

Attractive as he was, he soon found himself getting hit on by a sculpture student who said he wanted to make him out of clay. And Akaashi flirted back.

He danced with the students and flirted with boys and even with girls just for the hell of it. He just wanted to feel alive. Akaashi didn’t hate partying, despite what one might assume. He just ran out of energy quickly, and getting in the door in the first place was the hardest step.

At the beginning of college, he and Bokuto had gone out a lot. Then he got busier with classes and didn’t feel like it as much. Not to mention college Bokuto partied a little too hard for his liking sometimes. Akaashi had begun to associate going out with a frustrating night of sitting by the toilet while Bokuto puked and then a frustrating fight trying to get him to go home. By the start of junior year he had refused to go out at all unless Asahi promised to stay with him, and Noya agreed to be responsible for Bokuto. Not that Noya was much better himself. Akaashi had loathed being woken up at 3 in the morning to the sounds of them coming home.

But as he danced around tonight, he began to remember why this had once been fun. Alcohol felt good, and so did moving his body again. He liked the confidence that came with being noticed. Akaashi wasn’t a stranger to his own allure. He knew he was gorgeous but was usually too tired to use his beauty off the runway. But not tonight.

He drank a little too much. He found himself on the edge of a crowd with a film student he’d met in the bathroom. They’d chatted for a few minutes — or rather heavily flirted with no pretense — and then kept flirting and dancing together. As Akaashi ground on him in the middle of the floor, the guy had leaned in and told Akaashi, “I’d make a film with you. But we couldn’t show it to anybody.”

Akaashi was the perfect combination of drunk, bitter, and horny that made the stupid line work, and next thing he knew he was up against the wall with the guy’s tongue down his throat. He wasn’t particularly into him. If he wasn’t drunk and angry, then he would never have gone for this guy, but hooking up was feeding into his self-satisfaction at knowing Bokuto wasn’t the only one who could effortlessly garner attention. And the film student was a surprisingly good kisser. Akaashi let his hands drop to the guy’s ass and pulled him closer.

Things were starting to approach the critical moment where he’d have to decide if he was actually gonna go home with him. Akaashi settled on yes and pulled back to ask to go back to his place; but then he spotted Yachi out of the corner of his eye, and he was quickly pulled out of his stupor.

Before he could open his mouth to speak, he saw her curled up on a chair alone in the corner of the room. She was holding a cup of punch and lightly tapping her foot to the music. He could tell she was tired and uncomfortable, but he knew she was staying because she wanted him to have a good time. Akaashi felt a little guilty. Sure, the point of going out was for him to deal with his feelings, but looking at Yachi, suddenly Bokuto and the actress didn’t seem like such a big deal anymore. Who cares if his ex was publicly moving on? It’s what he’d asked him to do anyway.

Akaashi thought about his options, and realized he already felt much better. He also decided he would probably have more fun having a sleepover with his friend than a drunken one-night stand, so he made up his mind. He sighed and leaned in to kiss the film student a few more times. “Hey,” he groaned.

“Yeah?” The student murmured as he sucked a red mark onto Akaashi’s throat.

 Akaashi gently pushed him away. “I’m really sorry. This was so fun, but I’ve gotta go help my friend.”

The guy sighed and pulled away. “Ok. Sure. Can I get your number at least?”

Akaashi bit his lip as he thought about it. “Sorry. I’m not really looking to date right now.”

Luckily the film student understood and let him go.

Akaashi went back to the bathroom to wait for his boner to go down, then made his way over to Yachi.

“Hey,” he said, pulling her out of the chair. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You sure?” Yachi looked up at him. “You looked like you were having fun.”

He shook his head and smiled. God bless Ya-chan. She was trying so hard. “Nah I’m good. Thanks for making me go out though.”

She smiled up at him in relief, and they walked out arm in arm into the night.

Chapter Text

Bokuto’s Instagram followers doubled overnight following the Ono Aoi incident. In truth he had very little memory of meeting her at all. Atsumu tried to tell him they had run into her and the rest of the cast of her latest show when they’d accidentally stumbled into the VIP section of the club they were at. But all he knew was that he’d woken up naked the next morning in a love hotel with a pounding headache and an NDA on the nightstand. The NDA was rendered essentially useless once the paparazzi photos got out.

He walked into practice Monday morning to a round of cheers from his teammates. “BO-KU-TO! BO-KU-TO!” They were all successful athletes, but hooking up with Japan’s hottest actress and making your way into the tabloids was a line none of them had yet crossed.

Bokuto played along as much as the NDA allowed him to, and soon the incident was forgotten. But something had changed. It was summer now, and that seemed to make the world feel bigger.

In May, he was overjoyed to hear that his old friend Hinata Shoyo had successfully earned a spot on MSBY’s roster. Hinata had come back from Brazil a changed man, ready to have a good time, and he, Bokuto, and Atsumu spent their free time exploring all of Osaka’s offerings for the young, wild, and successful.

As a member of the National Team, lots of the summer was spent traveling for international tournaments. Hinata was still a new name in Japan, so he hadn’t been called up yet, but Bokuto and Atsumu had the times of their lives traveling and playing games all over the globe. They went to France, Brazil, Italy, China and more. They played volleyball, they partied, and they explored enough countries to lose track of what day and what time zone it was.

As long as they played well and didn’t humiliate Japan in any magazines, the team management essentially let them do as they pleased on their days off. Luckily for Atsumu and Bokuto, Sakusa Kiyoomi was there with no minced words to make sure they never missed any flights or warmups.

Between tournaments in June, Bokuto joined Nishinoya and Midori on vacation in Cabo, and he spent the week lying on the beach drinking pina coladas and playing beach volleyball with Noya and strangers. Midori tagged him in an Instagram post the next week, and his following doubled once again.

When he got back to Japan, deals started pouring in from companies asking him to collaborate on ad campaigns and sponsorship deals. He started to get overwhelmed with MSBY’s manager calling him constantly to go over contracts and scheduling. Suddenly playing volleyball wasn’t his only job anymore.

It clicked quite abruptly for Bokuto, as he was being ushered onto a commercial film set, that he might have at some point become famous. For him, getting to the V. League had always simply meant getting to play more and more volleyball. He hadn’t fully considered the possibility that fame and publicity might come with that.

The thought terrified him for a few moments, but when the first check came in, he decided the only real option was to embrace it.

It felt good to be noticed, and it felt good to be recognized. He had always loved the spotlight. Nothing felt better than a crowd chanting his name and telling him he was amazing. That spotlight had simply grown bigger as he’d gotten better. He had stepped up the game and was living his life to the greatest potential. What wasn’t to love?

He started going out even more. When he and Atsumu weren’t at practice or games, it was parties and meetups and more parties. Bokuto also loved experiencing new thrills. He liked going out and meeting new people and getting drunk and dancing until the morning. He was a natural born entertainer, and suddenly there were thousands more people who wanted to be entertained. Who wanted to get closer to him. He was 23 years old and single and successful and beautiful, and he was taking the world by storm.

In July, the National Team was put up in a dorm in Shibuya to start preparations for the World Championships. Bokuto was happy to be back in Tokyo, and he had fun taking his friends out to all the spots he’d loved in college. One night during a rare free evening without an early morning practice looming, he and Atsumu went to Suna Rintarou’s apartment to pregame before hitting a club.

Bokuto was drinking soju as he checked his phone. Midori had posted a series of pictures from her show in Singapore the night before. Bokuto fondly scrolled through the photos of his friend on stage, but he froze when he got to the 8th one. Midori had included a candid photo of Akaashi backstage. Bokuto realized she must have flown him out for the weekend.

Bokuto took another drink. He hadn’t realized it until that moment, but the crash of disappointment upon seeing the picture showed him that, since he’d arrived in Tokyo, he’d been hoping deep down that he might run into Akaashi. Upon seeing he was out of the country, he felt a massive drop in his mood.

“What’s wrong?”

Bokuto looked up to see Atsumu looking at him over his glass.

“Oh. Nothing. Just saw Keiji’s in Singapore.”

Atsumu narrowed his eyes. “You Instagram stalking him?”

“No, it just came up. Midori posted pics from her concert, and he was there.”

“Ah. Well, why do you look so upset about it?”

“I don’t know,” Bokuto shrugged defensively. “Not trying to.”

“Kou-kun,” Atsumu said patiently. He loved his nicknames. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Bokuto shoved his phone back in his pocket.

Atsumu paused for a moment and frowned. “You know you talk about him a lot, right?”

Bokuto frowned back. “I do?”

“Yeah. Like you just randomly bring him up. I’ve never said anything cause I figured you’re just doing your own way of moving on and stuff, but it’s kinda strange.”

Bokuto hadn’t noticed. He tried to think back on their past conversations. He supposed he did talk about Akaashi, but he didn’t think he ever indicated still having feelings for him. “Oh. I hadn’t really noticed.”

“Are you still into him?”

“I mean…yeah, I guess so.” Bokuto figured there was no point in lying. “But he doesn’t wanna get back together so…” he shrugged and took another drink.

“What happened between you guys anyway?” Atsumu asked. “You don’t have to tell me, but do you know what went wrong? Like why it ended?”

Bokuto shrugged. “It’s fine. And yeah, I know why. He was emotionally unavailable. I was too sensitive. He was too smart for me. I was bored too much. We were really bad at long distance. We didn’t make time for each other. We’d fuck instead of actually solving our problems, cause I hate conflict and he couldn’t compromise. Basically we were just two completely opposite people. It never really made sense to begin with.” Bokuto took a long drink.

All of that stuff was true, and he knew it. It was what he reminded himself of constantly in his head. Bokuto could be objective and practical when he needed to, and with time and distance he had managed to gain some perspective, but that didn’t stop the inner turmoil. Sure they made no sense. Sure they were terrible together in the end. But he couldn’t escape how drawn he was to Akaashi every time he saw him. Or how much his chest still ached when he thought about him. But Atsumu didn’t need to know that.

“Oh,” his friend exhaled. “Wow. I guess you aren’t totally in denial.”

Bokuto felt the pressure starting to build in his chest and he thumped his heel on the floor to distract himself.

“Yeah. I know why we broke up. I know why we should have broken up. But it still sucks. Five years together and all.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry man. Can’t imagine.” Atsumu rubbed his shoulder. “Well hey, let’s try and have fun tonight. You don’t have to go though.”

“Nah, I want to,” Bokuto swallowed the last of the soju and stood up. “Let’s go.”

Bokuto was still thinking about Akaashi as they made their way into the club. He’d been here before. He’d been to most clubs in Tokyo. In the early days of their relationship, he’d managed to convince Akaashi to come out to places like this. And they’d had fun. Bokuto would hold him tight in the swarming crowd, and they’d get drunk and make out on the dance floor until their friends took them home. But at some point during college, Akaashi had tired of it, and Bokuto had started going alone.

He would stumble back to their apartment late in the night, and Akaashi would put his headphones on while Bokuto threw up in the toilet and Noya passed out on the couch. The next morning he’d apologize, and Akaashi would just sigh as he made him a hangover cure breakfast.

Bokuto didn’t want to be sad, but the drunker he got, the more he started seeing Akaashi everywhere. He forced a smile onto his face, and he danced around with his friends and closed his eyes and tried to let the loud music take the pain away.

They’d been there an hour or so when he spotted a man several meters away with dark hair that curled around his ears and at the nape of his neck. The man was tall and thin as well. Bokuto stared over the crowd. At 6’3” he could see over everyone anywhere he went. Bokuto subconsciously made his way towards him, willing him to turn around. Soon enough he did. And he had blue eyes…

Bokuto’s heart skipped a beat, and he tried to catch the man’s gaze. When he did, Bokuto let his lip curl into a sexy half smile, and he winked. The man grinned and winked back. Up close, he didn’t really look all that much like Akaashi. His hair curled in a different pattern, and his eyes were wider. He wasn’t as beautiful, although almost no one was. But Bokuto still moved closer.

He didn’t say anything, but they continued to eye each other through the crowd as they danced. Eventually the man was dragged away by a friend. He smiled at Bokuto one last time before disappearing, and Bokuto made his way back through the crowed to Suna and Atsumu, feeling annoyingly disappointed.

An hour and another few drinks later, he saw him again, smoking in a small hallway near the restrooms in the corner of the club. He walked over to him.

“Hey,” he said as he leaned against the other side of the narrow hall.

“Hey,” the guy smiled. He put his cigarette out against the stone wall. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too,” Bokuto smiled back. He could feel tension building in the air.

The guy cocked his chin up and poked his tongue out between his teeth. Bokuto laughed under his breath and let his eyes run over the man’s body before raising his eyebrows in a question.

Two minutes later they were going at it against the bathroom wall. Bokuto had his hands in the other man’s shirt while he groped Bokuto’s cock over his jeans. “What was your name again?” The guy asked between kisses.

“Koutarou. You?”

“Akira.”

“Cool.” Bokuto pushed Akira into the nearest stall and locked the door behind them. He kissed his way down his body, licking a wet stripe up his abs before getting on his knees and undoing his pants. He pulled Akira’s cock out and put his mouth around it, deep into his throat. As he started to suck, he heard Akira groan, “oh fuck…”

Bokuto let his body take over. He could feel Akira’s hands in his hair and hear the unrestrained noises coming out of his mouth. Bokuto savored it, taking him in even deeper and moaning into him as he moved his head and twisted his tongue. Before long hot, thick liquid was shooting into his throat, and Akira’s legs started to shake with the effort of staying upright.

When the dick in his mouth had stopped throbbing, Bokuto pulled away. He briefly debated turning to spit into the toilet, but he just swallowed and wiped his mouth on his shirt.

“Fuck you’re really good at that… holy shit,” Akira groaned when Bokuto stood back up and started kissing his neck.

“I know,” Bokuto growled and bit his earlobe. He was good at it, and he knew it.

They switched positions, and Akira quickly got Bokuto out of his pants. Bokuto leaned his head back against the stall door and closed his eyes.

“Fuck yes…” he moaned.

Bokuto loved sex. He loved any physical sensation. Slamming a volleyball into the ground. Jumping off cliffs into the ocean. Loud music with the windows down in a fast car. People’s bodies against his in a club. His dick in someone’s mouth.

He reached down and grasped the hair at the nape of Akira’s neck. It was soft, and he could feel the curls around his fingers.

Keiji… his brain said before he could even think. Keiji Keiji Keiji. Bokuto gasped as he got closer, desperate heat roiling in his core. He gently rocked his hips back and forth as he pictured blue eyes and thin hands and a body he still knew every detail of. Keiji. Oh god Keiji! Please Keiji fuck… He bit his lip to keep the name from bursting out of his throat as he moaned and grasped Akira’s shoulder while he came.

Akira swallowed too, and before standing, he pushed Bokuto’s shirt up to run his tongue over his abs and grasp at the thick, hard muscles in his back. As Bokuto came down from the high, he could tell those hands weren’t Keiji’s hands. Keiji’s hands were smooth and bony, and when they touched him it was deliberate and sensual and perfect. This wasn’t that. And when Akira stood up, and he saw his face, a wave of sadness hit him when it wasn’t Keiji’s.

“You’re really fucking hot, Koutarou,” Akira moaned into his neck.

“Thanks.” Bokuto nuzzled his head and brought their lips together again. As their tongues swirled together, he could taste himself there. “That felt really good.”

They kissed a little more as they left the stall, but no more really needed to be said or done. Akira left the bathroom first, and Bokuto stayed to lean against the wall and try and escape the self-loathing threatening its way out.

He didn’t feel bad that he was hooking up with people. He was single, and Akaashi didn’t want him anymore, and he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He just hated that he couldn’t seem to stop going after guys who looked like him or thinking about his face. He hated how much influence Akaashi still had over his sex life. It took all the enjoyment out.

It didn’t happen every time. Normally Bokuto loved dating, if what he did could be called that. He loved meeting new people and having relationships that burned hot and bright and perfect, even if they only lasted a few days or a few hours or a few minutes. But sometimes it was like this. Akaashi would weasel his way into his mind, and he’d end the night depressed and so lonely it was unbearable.

Bokuto took a few deep breaths before straightening his clothes in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair, splashed water on his face, and walked back out.

When he left the bathroom, he pushed his way to the bar where he found Atsumu and Suna sitting with a couple of their other teammates. “Hey,” he said as he sat down.

“Hey,” Atsumu said. “Where you been?”

Bokuto shot him a meaningful look.

“Oh.” They’d spent enough time together for Atsumu to understand. He rolled his eyes. “How many club bathrooms have you had sex in now? Are we still able to count on one hand, or do I have to put this drink down?”

Suna blinked a few times before turning to another of their teammates and starting a new conversation.

Bokuto almost laughed. “I don’t know anymore.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Atsumu said as he turned towards the bartender. “Can we get two more shots, please? Thanks.” He looked back at Bokuto. “Who was it? You see them?”

Bokuto turned to scan the crowd. He spotted Akira and pointed. “Him. By the stage. Blue and white shirt.”

Atsumu looked. His brow furrowed, and he looked back at Bokuto. “Kou…”

Bokuto also understood from the look. The shots arrived, and Bokuto drank his before answering. “I know. You don’t have to say it.”

“I think maybe I do! Bro, you gotta stop doing this.”

“It’s only been one other time.”

“You mean you only succeeded one other time! But if the Venn diagram of dudes who look like Keiji and dudes who want to have sex with you had any more overlap, you’d be doing this every night.” He turned to the bartender again. “Hi, sorry, I think we’re gonna need two more over here.”

Bokuto chewed his cheek as he leaned back against the bar. Atsumu wasn’t wrong. Luckily when he found himself going after Keiji lookalikes, they usually didn’t turn out to be gay, so he just brushed it off and moved on. But tonight he seemed to be steadfastly stuck in his feelings. Maybe getting drunk while already feeling bitter about your ex was a bad idea after all.

“I was lying earlier,” Bokuto said stonily as he stared at the crowd. “I don’t know what happened or why we broke up. I mean, I do,” he sighed, “but I can’t believe it. It feels so wrong. Nothing has ever felt this wrong. We belong together. That’s what I believe. I can’t understand how he left. Or how I let him. I should have fought back.”

The shots arrived. Atsumu took them, but he hesitated this time to hand one to his friend. Bokuto glared at him and took the glass from his hand and downed the liquor.

“Kou, hey. Come on.” Atsumu looked concerned. He elbowed Suna and passed the other shot glass to him. “Dude, are you ok? Should we go?”

Bokuto tensed his eyes. He focused on a corner of the stage until his vision started to blur. The first shot was starting to hit, and he was worried he might cry if he moved. He’d already been plenty drunk when he pulled Akira into the bathroom. He gave himself a few seconds before inhaling deeply. “I’m fine.”

“Ok well, either way I think the fun part of this night is over, so I’m gonna take you home.” Atsumu turned to let Suna know they were leaving. Bokuto felt more tears prickling, but this time from embarrassment. Atsumu was also a monster. He was selfish and wild and headstrong and proud. But he’d somehow become one of Bokuto’s best friends over the last few months. And despite his own absurdity, he had a reasonable head on his shoulders, and he cared about people more than he liked to admit. Bokuto knew he was lucky to have him, and ashamed of himself for putting him through this.

Atsumu paid the tab and dragged him out of the club and onto the train. Bokuto spent the ride talking about Keiji. Incoherent ramblings about their fights and their best days and his blue eyes and his delicate hands. They barely made it back to the team dorms before he started throwing up. Bokuto wasn’t sure when he’d started crying, but he didn’t have the energy to hold it back anymore.

“He was perfect! He was so fucking perfect!” He sobbed as he leaned against the wall by the toilet. “Why doesn’t he love me?? Why did he stop loving me??” He put his face in his hands and curled into a ball. Atsumu moved from where he’d been sitting on the side of the bathtub and joined him on the floor. He hugged Bokuto’s head into his chest.

“I’m sorry Kou-chan. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“How do I stop loving him?!” Bokuto cried. “When does it stop?!” Atsumu just stroked his hair. “I wish I hated him,” he continued to sob. “I hate saying that, but I really wish I did. But I can’t. I love him so much. I don’t know what to do.”

Bokuto woke up the next morning with a terrible headache. Once he’d stopped crying, Atsumu had put him into bed, and he’d fallen asleep almost instantly. The night was a little blurry, but he hadn’t been quite drunk enough to fully black out. In the light of day with a clear head, he looked back on the events in shame. He was a grown man crying over a boy on the bathroom floor. He needed to get it together.

He got up for water, careful not to wake Atsumu who was sleeping on the floor by his bed. Bokuto realized with a pang that he hadn’t even gone back to his own dorm room, choosing instead to stay by Bokuto’s side all night.

Bokuto lay back down and opened Midori’s Instagram. He stared again at the photo of Akaashi. His ex was backstage at the show, leaning forward with his elbows resting on some large piece of equipment, staring off with a half-smile on his face. Midori must have taken it without him noticing.

Bokuto sighed. This stupid photo had somehow ruined his whole night.

He closed the app and put his arms across his face. He was still in love. There was no other explanation. Completely in love with a boy he’d barely spoken to in eight months.

When Atsumu woke up, Bokuto apologized profusely and thanked him. “I’m really embarrassed man. I don’t know what happened.”

Atsumu awkwardly sighed. “It’s cool. It happens…I guess.”

“I’m gonna get over him. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

“Yeah. Cool. Just be careful. And stop hooking up in bathrooms!”

Bokuto half laughed. “I don’t think the bathroom itself was the problem.”

“It’s still a problem,” Atsumu protested. “This team’d be fucked if ya got a staph infection or some worse shit!”

“Guess you got me there.”

“Yeh I do!” Atsumu’s Kansai accent was starting to come out stronger now. “Forget Keiji, let’s start with getting yer dick under control! For real, ya like a fuckin’ animal!”

Bokuto laughed now. “Fine, I’ll work on it, geez!”

They got dressed and went down to the dorm cafeteria for breakfast. Bokuto hoped none of their other teammates had heard anything the night before. That would be embarrassing.

They tried to sit with Sakusa, but he got up after a minute. “You both need to shower,” he said as he stood up and switched tables. Atsumu and Bokuto looked at each other and laughed.

“Fine but you owe us dinner Omi-kun!” Atsumu turned and yelled.

Things were normal again.

Bokuto kept his promise. He stayed happy. He didn’t go after any more Akaashi clones. He worked hard at practice and had fun with his friends when time allowed. He talked about Akaashi less, and he tried his best to embrace everything else his life had to offer. He reminded himself how lucky he was to be there. He’d worked hard his whole life for exactly this, and he’d finally made it to the top. It would be a waste to spend it hung up on a boy.

When Midori’s show came to Tokyo, he took Atsumu and Hinata, and they watched from the floor. Midori winked at them from the stage, and Atsumu nearly passed out in starstruck awe. He went to more countries and got more sponsorships. He got better at volleyball. He told his friends and himself that it was the summer of his life. He was doing what he loved every single day. Going 100% all the time, pedal to the metal, with no holdbacks. He didn’t need anything else.

If Akaashi’s face still came to his mind every time he took off another person’s clothes, he pushed it away. If he felt a tightness in his chest every time he saw black hair and blue eyes, he ignored it. And if he still went to sleep at night looking at Akaashi’s pictures, he told no one.

Chapter Text

Akaashi didn’t feel lonely, but he was a naturally lonesome person; and with his best friends gone oversees, he’d been settling into a solitary routine of wake and work. He still texted his remaining Tokyo friends, but he didn’t meet up with them, content keeping to himself. Work was all he really needed to keep himself occupied, but he wouldn’t say he was happy. More just floating along. Not really awake and fairly aimless.

He was settling into his new job as a manga editor. It wasn’t exactly the path into the publishing world that he had hoped for, but he still got to work for a prominent company and make connections with other storytellers. He enjoyed bouncing ideas around with his assigned mangaka Udai Tenma, of former Little Giant fame.

They’d met briefly years before when Hinata had introduced them at a Spring Tournament back in high school. Tenma was a brilliant, albeit slightly chaotic creator, and Akaashi felt that a large portion of his job was simply harassing him for pages and reminding him of meetings.

On the bright side, most days he was able to work from home as long as Tenma was on schedule. He only went into the office for meetings and presentations. They’d gotten the news last week that their current series was ending soon, so they were working hard finding ways to wrap up all the storylines in a couple of chapters. It had been rough.

He was currently working at his favorite coffee shop down the street from the apartment. A seventh-floor apartment in July was a terrible place to be during a Tokyo heatwave, so he had been trying to find other places to work. He picked up his iced black coffee and found a table in the back where he spread out the drawings around him and opened his laptop. He’d been there about an hour when he heard a voice.

“Akaashi?”

Akaashi looked up to see a handsome young man looking down at him. “Hashimoto,” he said. “Hi.”

It was Hashimoto Kousuke, one of the other student models Akaashi had met during college. They’d done quite a few shows together over the years and been friendly coworkers, if not particularly close.

“How’s it going?” Hashimoto grinned. He gestured to Akaashi’s table. "What’s all this?”

“Oh,” Akaashi looked at the mess in front of him. “I’m a manga editor now believe it or not. Working on notes. The artist just sent me pages.”

“Hey that’s awesome! What’s it about?”

“Zombies,” Akaashi rolled his eyes. “I don’t get it either.”

“Zombies?? Interesting.”

“Yeah sure. It’s definitely… something.” Akaashi would be lying if he said the topic of the story he spent 10 hours a day with was particularly in line with his interests. “How are you? Wanna sit?”

“Sure thanks!” Hashimoto took a seat across from Akaashi, who stacked the pages in a neat pile and put them back in his bag, grateful for a break. “I’m good! Just started working at a gallery. It’s been good so far. Mostly contacting artists and making meetings happen. But I like it.”

Akaashi remembered Hashimoto had been an art history major. Much like Akaashi, he had been recruited out of class to model. Akaashi remembered him being a fantastic model. He was a warm and happy guy who had smiled the whole way down the runway. Akaashi had been quite the opposite, holding his face in a cold smolder as soon as the lights hit him. “That’s great,” he smiled. “I can see you being good at that. Is it nearby here?”

“Yeah, it’s just up the street,” Hashimoto said. “I’m on lunch break. I walk by this place all the time, but I’ve never come in. Figured I’d check it out today.”

“I see,” Akaashi nodded. “I live like two blocks that way, so I’m here a lot.”

“Oh nice! You should come by the gallery sometime then. It’s a cool place. Lots of modern stuff. Very new age.” Hashimoto paused to appraise Akaashi for a moment. “Actually, on second thought you might hate it. I know you like the classics.”

Akaashi found himself smiling. “Hey come on, I’m not that bad!” He protested with a laugh. “You’re making me sound like a douche.”

Hashimoto grinned. “You would literally sit backstage reading Dickens while covered in body paint and wearing a dress made of tulle and sequins. If you remain a douche through that outfit, you’re a douche anywhere.”

“Oh god,” Akaashi groaned remembering the most outlandish outfit he’d agreed to wear for a show. It was basically a short, fluffy, pink dress and sheer tights. Bokuto had made it his phone background for a year. “Ok I’ll take that.”

“Honestly, you kinda pulled it off. Pretty impressive.”

Akaashi just shook his head. He was still smiling which was strange. Although he remembered Hashimoto had always seemed to have that effect on people. “Thanks. They made me shave my legs for it, so I’d better have looked tolerable.”

Hashimoto laughed. “College, what a time.”

“It really was.”

“So how are you otherwise? Oh! I saw your boyfriend in a commercial the other day! That’s gotta be pretty wild.”

“Oh,” Akaashi’s smile finally dropped. “Yeah…” The last time he’d seen Hashimoto was the show in December a month after the breakup. He hadn’t been close enough with the other models to mention it. Of courses he’d assume they were still together. Bokuto had always made his presence and relation to Akaashi very known, whether Akaashi liked it or not.

“Oh shoot,” Hashimoto tensed when he sensed the drop in Akaashi’s mood. “Did I say something weird?”

“No, no you’re fine. Sorry.” Akaashi was actually pleased since this meant Hashimoto didn’t keep up with tabloids. If he did, he’d have seen Bokuto in much more than just commercials. “We actually broke up. Last winter. So I haven’t talked to him in a while.”

“Oh shit. I’m sorry.” Hashimoto’s eyes widened.

“No, it’s good. It’s been a while so,” he shrugged, “I’m moving on.”

“I see. Well, cool, glad you’re doing ok.”

“Yeah me too. What about you? You seeing anyone?”

Hashimoto shook his head. “Not right now. I went on a few dates with a guy I met online, but it didn’t go anywhere.”

“Yeah, it’s tough out there.”

“No kidding.”

“What else are you up to?” Akaashi asked. “I didn’t see you at any of the spring shows.”

“Oh yeah. It was a busy term. I had to finish a bunch of projects I got behind on. And my senior recital was coming up, so I was practicing nonstop.”

“Recital?” Akaashi asked.

“For violin. Had to do a showcase.”

“Oh right!” Akaashi remembered Hashimoto had been a music student as well. He’d never heard him play, but he knew he had to be pretty good to get into the program. He’d attended one of the most prestigious art schools in the country. “A solo showcase sounds tough. I don’t blame you for cutting back on modeling.”

“Thanks,” Hashimoto smiled. “I did miss it.”

They chatted for another 20 minutes until Hashimoto’s lunch break ended. By the time he left, Akaashi had been convinced to go back to the counter and order a drink he thought sounded ridiculous but Hashimoto promised was amazing. He’d also agreed to ask his supervisor for a deadline extension. Hashimoto was persuasive like that, and always reminded his friends to put themselves first.

“It was great seeing you,” he said as he stood up. “Glad you’re doing well.”

“Yeah you too!” Akaashi said, and he really meant it. “Um, I’m always here, so if you come back, you’ll probably see me again.” He blinked, surprised at himself. He never suggested people try and find him again. He usually hid behind his laptop so they wouldn’t spot him to begin with.

Hashimoto grinned. It seemed to be a permanent fixture on his face. Even when he wasn’t smiling, he looked like he was about to. “That’d be cool. It’s a nice place. I’m sure I’ll be back.”

“Yeah. See you then… I guess.” Akaashi couldn’t seem to get the awkward smile off his face.

“Bye Akaashi,” Hashimoto grinned back at him and waved. “Don’t work too hard, I mean it.”

Akaashi blinked after his retreating form. His heart was pounding a bit, and he didn’t know why. Was Hashimoto always that cute? he wondered.

As he sat in his chair, he started pondering why they hadn’t become better friends when they were in college. Hashimoto Kousuke was kind and smart and one of the only other gay people Akaashi had met.

He wasn’t even sure why he still called him Hashimoto. Nearly everyone else had called him by his first name Kousuke. But Akaashi had never made the switch.

That’s kind of strange, he thought. He had always enjoyed their conversations, however brief. They probably would have gotten along well.

Akaashi pursed his lips. Oh. Maybe that’s why…

He had probably subconsciously decided that getting close to a handsome, intelligent, gay man wasn’t the best idea for a guy with a jealousy prone boyfriend.

Akaashi frowned now. That wasn’t something he had to worry about anymore. He typed the name of Hashimoto’s gallery into his phone and started scrolling the website.

~

Akaashi never worked up the courage to go to the gallery, and Hashimoto hadn’t asked for his number. He put the thought out of his mind until two weeks later when he saw him at the coffee shop again. Akaashi had been there most days, and he’d found himself eagerly looking up whenever he heard the door open.

They ate lunch together again, and Hashimoto told him he could come by later that evening after the gallery closed to the public. As he was leaving Akaashi suddenly called him back. “Wait! What’s your number?” He asked.

Hashimoto turned back to look at him.

“So I can text you,” Akaashi explained. “When I’m on my way.” His heart was pounding again.

Hashimoto smiled. He took Akaashi’s phone and entered his contact info. Akaashi smiled when he took it back. “Thanks. See you tonight.”

“Yeah. See you tonight.” He held Akaashi’s gaze for a moment as put his hands in his pockets and turned back towards the door. Akaashi looked down at his phone. He didn’t text much — he was very bad at it — but he liked seeing the number in there.

That evening Hashimoto greeted him at the door to the gallery and showed him around. It was a unique space. Not only was it a gallery, but also an art studio. Half the space was dedicated for artists to come in and paint or do pottery or more. Hashimoto told Akaashi it was a new place founded by a couple of friends trying to make more creative spaces in the busy city. Akaashi was impressed. It was a very Hashimoto place to work. Artsy and boho and welcoming.

Hashimoto told him about the pieces and about the artists that created them. Which of them were divas and which were cool and which were insane.

Akaashi laughed. “I don’t really know that much about art if I’m being honest.”

“That’s ok!” Hashimoto said with a wink. “I know a lot, and unfortunately, I love talking about it. Ask me anything.”

“Anything?” Akaashi asked.

“Sure. If I don’t know the answer, I’ll make something up, and you can try and guess when I’m lying.”

Akaashi grinned. He walked around the room trying to think of something to ask. He paused in front of one of the paintings. “Well, I’ve got nothing specific yet,” he said, turning around to look back at Hashimoto, “but I like this one, and I don’t know why. So tell me about it.”

“That I can do!” Hashimoto trotted up to stand beside him. Akaashi thought it was cute, and then pushed the thought away.

As Hashimoto talked about the painting, he rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, and Akaashi found himself looking at the tattoos on his forearms. He’d seen them before. There wasn’t a ton of privacy at college runway shows, but he’d never really let himself look.

Most of Hashimoto’s skin was covered in ink. Akaashi wouldn’t have been able to describe the designs if he tried. His left forearm looked like a conglomeration of different pictures and words that somehow all came together as one piece. Akaashi wanted to stare until he understood it. His brain was naturally inclined to solve puzzles and find answers. He wanted to touch the lines to see if he could feel them, but he forced his eyes away before it became too obvious he was staring. Unfortunately his gaze just ended up on his face instead.

Hashimoto Kousuke was tall and thin. Not quite as tall or as thin as Akaashi, but they had a similar build, which made sense given how they’d met. He was handsome too, with tan skin and deep brown, upturned eyes on a long, narrow face. His hair was long on top and unruly. He usually wore it parted and pushed back so it floofed over his head. Stray pieces kept falling into his eyes, and he would throw his head back to toss them off.

Akaashi squeezed his own hands together, worried they might try to reach out and touch the loose strands of their own accord. He was starting to feel nervous. He didn’t like the way his heart was beating or the heat building up in his chest. It felt very dangerous.

He forced his brain back to what Hashimoto was saying. He could stand to know more about art. It was a gap in his knowledge, and he always liked to close those when he found them.

~

They didn’t see each other again for a few weeks. Hashimoto didn’t call, and Akaashi was too nervous to. But soon enough Akaashi saw him one day as he was on his way home from work.

He’d actually gone into the office that day, and he was tired after several long meetings, but he perked up when he stepped out of the train station and heard Hashimoto’s voice.

“Akaashi! Hi!”

Akaashi whipped back around and saw him leaning against the wall next to the station entrance he’d just come out of. He was smoking a cigarette but quickly put it out on the wall as Akaashi approached.

“Hey,” Akaashi grinned. “Do you use this station?”

“Yeah,” Hashimoto nodded. “My apartment is three stops west on the S line. Just needed a smoke before I go home. What about you? I haven’t seen you here before.”

“I usually work from home. But I come through here when I go to the office.”

“Oh cool.”

There was silence for a few seconds. Akaashi realized too late that he’d been staring at Hashimoto’s face without saying anything.

“Um,” Hashimoto smiled. “Well, as long as we’re both here, do you wanna get a drink or something?”

Akaashi nodded. He hoped not too quickly. “Yeah sure.”

Hashimoto smiled, and Akaashi automatically smiled back.

They went to an izakaya and both got ID’d when they tried to order drinks. Akaashi glanced at Hashimoto’s foreign resident card when the server handed it back.

Hashimoto was ethnically Japanese, but he was born and raised in Italy. He’d only moved to Japan before college, and his slight accent made him stand out. People always assumed he was American.

“Does that say Kousuke?” Akaashi asked. He could read the Roman alphabet pretty well and was quite sure the first name line didn’t match. He regretted the question as soon as the words were out, worried that was really invasive to both look and ask.

“Huh?” Hashimoto looked at him before glancing back down to the ID card. “Oh this? No, it says Lapo. That’s my actual name. Kousuke was my grandfather’s name. I just use it when I’m here.”

“La-po…” Akaashi sounded it out, relieved he didn’t seem bothered by the question. “Why?”

Hashimoto laughed. “Because if I went by Lapo here, everyone would say it like that.”

Akaashi winced. “Was it that bad?”

“I’ve heard worse. It’s the “L” sound. Hard for Japanese people, I guess. Could be worse though. At least they didn’t name me Aureliano or something.”

“Do you miss Italy?” Akaashi asked.

“Yeah a lot!” Hashimoto said. “Japan’s great, but it’s really different than back home. I miss the food too. Haven’t had baked ziti in years.”

“What’s that?”

Hashimoto described the dish.

“That’s… a lot of cheese,” was all Akaashi could say.

“It’s so good though! Maybe I’ll make it for you sometime.”

“I’m pretty lactose intolerant.”

“Oh. Damn.” Hashimoto’s eyebrows furrowed in genuine pity and concern. “That really sucks.”

“Sorry.”

“No worries. I’ll make you…” he pondered for a second. “Oh god we really do eat a lot of cheese…I guess osso bucco or something.”

Akaashi grinned. Something about this boy’s upright, honest way of speaking and excited sincerity was really drawing him in. He found it refreshing. And adorable. “Sounds good.”

~

But it seemed Hashimoto was pretty bad at actually making solid plans, and Akaashi was still too scared to text, so they left each other once again with no plans to meet up.

Akaashi was sitting at home one day staring out the window when he was supposed to be editing. His supervisor had granted the extension, but somehow he was still behind. Instead of working, he was thinking about the first time he and Hashimoto had met.

It had been second year of college at a dress rehearsal for the Autumn show. During a break he’d stepped out to get some fresh air and nearly hit someone with the door as he’d swung it open.

Three years ago

“Whoa holy shit!” A voice shouted.

“Oh sorry!” Akaashi gasped. He’d just thrown open the door from backstage to outside, and he looked up and saw another model standing there with a lighter in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

“It’s ok,” Hashimoto smiled. “You didn’t hit me. Akaashi right?”

“Yeah. And you’re Hashimoto?”

“Yeah.” They stood for a moment in silence. Akaashi was suddenly self-conscious of the outfit he was wearing. They had him in a red jumpsuit with loose pants and a completely open back.

“Don’t worry, you look fine,” Hashimoto said. “Better than me.” He was wearing a pale blue suit with a peplum blazer and ruffles on the sleeves.

Akaashi laughed, wondering how the other boy had known what he was thinking. “No, you look fine. I’ve seen weirder.”

“It’s interesting though,” Hashimoto smiled, looking down at his outfit. “Not a very seasonally appropriate color choice. I think I’d like it significantly better in a gold. Or if they really wanted blue, then navy would have been the way to go. To have this color on in October just makes me feel like an Easter Bunny who wandered into the wrong storybook.”

Akaashi gazed at him quizzically then laughed. He’d never given much thought to the outfits the student designers put him in. But after hearing Hashimoto’s analysis, he was suddenly inspired to start. “Wow that… is actually a pretty accurate description.”

“Aw,” Hashimoto scoffed pretending to be hurt. “You don’t have to agree so readily!”

“Sorry,” Akaashi smiled. “Really, you look great. It’s a nice outfit. Even if it’s out of season.”

Hashimoto grinned for a second before asking nervously. “You don’t happen to have a light do you? Mine’s out of juice I think.”

“Oh, um. No. Sorry.”

“Ah. I was hoping I wasn’t the only one who came out for a smoke break. Oh well.”

“Yeah, uh,” Akaashi hesitated. “Just needed to escape the hairspray smell for a minute.”

“Oh shoot, that’s embarrassing,” Hashimoto said. “You wanted fresh air, and here I am asking you to light my cigarette. Sorry.”

Akaashi let out an awkward laugh. Hashimoto seemed fully comfortable making conversation with him. Even when Akaashi was giving nothing back. “It’s ok.”

Hashimoto had smiled at him, and Akaashi found it hard to hold eye contact. Soon enough they went back inside. They didn’t talk again for the rest of the show, but they saw each other on and off for the rest of their college years. Akaashi had learned that he was Italian, that he was gay, that he was talented, and that everywhere he went people seemed to adore him. Every time he saw Akaashi, he was kind and always willing to carry a conversation and pull him into pictures.

Present day Akaashi was regretting things.

Present

The next time they ran into each other was mid-September, and before he could second guess himself, Akaashi told Hashimoto to come over after work. He made dinner, and they ate it sitting on the floor in front of the sofa.

“You have a pepper flake on your lip.” Hashimoto pointed to the corner of his own mouth.

“Oh sorry.” Akaashi tried to wipe it with his thumb.

“Still there.”

“Damn it.” He tried again.

“Still there. You just moved it to the left.”

“Oh my god.” Akaashi pulled out his phone and used the front camera as a mirror to get it off.

“There you go.”

“Sorry.”

“You know you apologize too much,” Hashimoto commented.

“Hm?”

“You said sorry twice just now. For what?”

“I’m not sure.” Akaashi put his phone down and pulled his sleeves over his hands.” It’s just a reflex I guess.”

“It’s cute when you do that,” Hashimoto said.

Akaashi laughed nervously. “Do what?”

“This. With your sleeves.” He demonstrated, pulling his own sleeves down over his palms. “You do it a lot.”

“Oh. Yeah I guess so.”

“It’s cute,” Hashimoto said again.

Akaashi laughed once more, surprising himself. He covered his mouth with his hand to hide it, but the grin was still there. He tried to force it away.

“What are you doing?” Hashimoto asked, a little laughter behind his voice.

“I don’t know,” Akaashi said into his hands. “I don’t know why I’m laughing. Sorry. Wait not sorry! Sorry. Shit!” He pressed both hands to his mouth now.

Hashimoto started laughing too. “Keiji, oh my god.”

Akaashi started at the use of his first name. But he found he didn’t mind it. He might have even liked it. “Kousuke,” he said to himself, testing out how it felt on his tongue.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing.”

Kousuke grinned and reached out to pull Akaashi’s hand away from his face. Akaashi blushed and turned away. Why couldn’t he stop smiling?

“Why are you hiding?” Kousuke laughed. “You’ve got a good smile.”

“You said I was cute.”

“You are cute.”

Akaashi shook his head.

“You don’t think so?”

“No, it’s not that. Just funny to hear it. So directly.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“Can I say something stupid?” Akaashi laughed through his fingers.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“I thought you were gonna get the pepper off my lip. Like I thought you’d do it. With your hand.”

Kousuke’s eyebrows lifted. “Did you want me to?”

“Did you want to?” Akaashi shot back.

Kousuke’s grin faded a bit. “A little yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Would that have been ok?”

Akaashi felt the smile persistently tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

Kousuke slowly reached out and touched the corner of his mouth, wiping away a phantom pepper flake. “I like you,” he murmured.

Akaashi didn’t move. “You do?” He breathed. He felt like his voice was shaking.

“Yeah,” Kousuke dropped his hand back to his side. “I kinda did back then too. In college. But you had a boyfriend, so I never said anything.”

“Oh,” Akaashi breathed again.

“That’s not the only reason I’ve been hanging out with you though!” Kousuke said quickly. “It really was cool just running into you. And I’m glad we’re friends, regardless of anything else. But yeah. Full disclosure. I do like you.”

Akaashi’s heart was racing. He checked to see if his smile was still there. It was.

He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Full of giddy anticipation and the excitement of possibility. “Ok,” he whispered.

“Ok?”

“Yeah. Ok.”

“What do you—”

Akaashi kissed him. And it felt good. It felt really good. He’d kissed people since the breakup. But this was the first time he felt a spark. A real, tangible, toe-curling, heart-stopping spark. He kissed him again. Kousuke gripped his arm and kissed him back. Akaashi raised his hands to cup his face and started to push him back until they were against the sofa.

Just as Akaashi slipped a hand down to grasp his waist, Kousuke suddenly pushed him back. “Wait hold on. Brief pause.”

“What is it?” Akaashi said, more out of breath than he’d realized.

“This is really great, but I don’t just…I don’t just wanna be a rebound.”

Akaashi’s eyes widened. Rebound? It felt like ages since he’d been in a relationship. He hadn’t thought that at all. “You’re not! You’re not,” he reassured him. “Believe me. It’s been almost a year. Already been there done that. I like you too. Really. I like you a lot!”

Kousuke smiled. Akaashi really liked that smile. “Ok.” He kissed him again.

Chapter Text

Akaashi couldn’t decide if the next month felt like waking up from a dream or falling into a new one. For a year, he had been slipping further and further away into his own nihilistic solemnity. But he couldn’t be sad around Kousuke. Akaashi had seen before how clever and charming he could be, but once they started dating, he quickly got an education on every other incredible thing that made up Lapo Kousuke Hashimoto.

His new boyfriend was a mesmerizing montage of passion and genius. They talked about art and books and politics, and he was perceptive and confident enough to call Akaashi out on his contrarian bullshit. He was curious about everything and had a knack for finding new things to do that got Akaashi out the door and into the world every week, be it festivals or markets or day trips from the city.

He seemed to have countless friends who were constantly at his apartment, and Akaashi would listen quietly while they vented their problems, and Kousuke offered well-meaning, if questionable, advice over coffee and homemade croissants.

When Akaashi would go over in the evenings, he would find him singing as he made fancy dinners and set the table with candles like it wasn’t a random Tuesday night. But he wasn’t just romance and charm. He was capable and smart, and he made Akaashi feel like he had a lot to learn about the world. He owned nearly as many books as Akaashi did, but unlike Akaashi, he had actually read them all.

Being around him gave Akaashi the distinct feeling that he had been pulled off a cliff, but instead of crashing to the ground below, he was somehow floating through the clouds. Everything that had mattered before had flown out the window. Akaashi was completely obsessed and out of control. His days were spent dreaming about Kousuke, and his nights were spent tangled up in his sheets. He couldn’t seem to stop kissing him or trying to find every tattoo and crevice and sensitive spot on his well-toned body and cover them up with his mouth.

But deep beneath the bliss, he was terrified he was falling too fast and worried he’d say something to scare him away. His normally closed off heart was threatening to burst open and start pouring emotional drivel out of his mouth to a boy he’d only just started dating. He was utterly infatuated and maybe a little desperate, but for the first time in months, Akaashi was smiling every day.

He FaceTimed Midori after two weeks.

“Hey Keiji!” She answered brightly on her laptop. She was seated at a makeup table, and her hair was pushed back with a fluffy headband. Akaashi watched as she delicately blended foundation on her jawline, glad she seemed to be alone.

“Hey,” he said.

“What’s going on? You look happy.”

“Is that weird?” He asked.

“A little.”

“Rude.”

“Sorry,” she said, a teasing smile pulling at her lip. She put her blending sponge down and turned to face him. “Tell me why you’re happy.”

He started smiling and brought a hand up over his mouth. He really couldn’t help doing that. “I do have something to tell you.”

“Ok…” Midori raised an intrigued, half-filled in eyebrow. “What is it?”

“I’m kind of… I’m kind of dating someone.”

Her eyes got huge. “Wait Keiji what?? Who?? And what do you mean ‘kind of’?”

“Ok, not kind of,” he admitted. “I am dating someone. Like officially. His name’s Hashimoto Kousuke. I actually knew him in college. He went to Tokyo U of the Arts, and we walked in a couple shows together. I hadn’t seen him in a while though.”

“Wait that’s awesome!” Midori exclaimed. “I’m happy for you! How long has it been?”

Akaashi told her about running into each other at the coffee shop, and how they’d been hanging out for a while before making it official. He did his best to describe him without gushing and blushing too much, but he couldn’t hide how happy he was.

“Oh my god Keiji,” Midori now had a hand covering her smile too. “You’re giggling. You’re actually giggling.”

Akaashi pulled the neck of his sweater up to hide his face. He was giggling. And he couldn’t stop. “Shut up, I know bitch! I feel like a fucking teenager, it’s embarrassing!” At some point during college Akaashi had started overusing the word bitch. Especially when talking to people he was comfortable with.

“This is so cute…” Midori started hitting her hand on the makeup table and bouncing in her chair. “I wanna meet him! Wait, what’s his Insta? Ask if I can follow him!”

Akaashi gave her his handle and blushed furiously while she gushed over the photos. “Keiji he’s gorgeous! And he’s Italian! Holy shit…” She held her phone up to her laptop camera showing a shirtless photo of Kousuke on the Amalfi Coast.

Akaashi pulled his legs into his chest and hid his whole head. “I know!”

“Are you taller than him?”

“A little yeah.”

“Well, you should still try and borrow his clothes,” Midori said. “His style is incredible. And he’s got tattoos! God Keiji, well done.”

“Yeah, he always looks really good.”

“No kidding, this is a sexy ass man.”

“He really is,” Akaashi agreed. “Like he really is. Like it’s been… yeah bitch… it’s good…” he trailed off, and a distracted haze settled over his eyes.

Midori’s eyes sparkled. She leaned closer to her computer and said in a lower, mischievous voice, “So, I take it you’re sleeping with him.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes but still laughed. “Yes. Yes I am.”

Midori squealed. “Aah! When’d you start?? How is it??

Akaashi rubbed his brow. “Ok, don’t judge me.”

“I’d never,” she declared with mock seriousness.

“It was the, uh, the same day we admitted we liked each other. Like…right after.”

Midori gasped. “Keiji!”

“Hey!” He laughed. “Remember I’ve known him for over three years!”

“Still, putting out on the first date? I’m impressed.”

“Technically it was before the first date…”

“Now come on how was it?!!” She asked again. “Your ass holding up?”

“Midori, oh my god…”

“Shut up, we’ve talked in way more detail than that before.”

“Fine. It was fucking amazing. And my ass is fine! He’s verse too, so we’ve been switching.”

“Very nice, very nice. For real though, glad you’re getting some. You needed it.”

“Shut up,” he laughed and looked away.

“Have you told anyone else yet?”

Akaashi shook his head. “I’m getting lunch with Ya-chan this weekend. I’ll tell her then. And other people soon too. But…um… maybe don’t… well…”

“I won’t say anything to Kou,” she said, quickly picking up on his implication. “If that’s what you want.”

Akaashi smiled gratefully. It was great to have friends who knew him to the point of predicting his sentences. “Thanks. It’s just, it’s still new, and I’m not ready for him to know yet.”

She nodded. “Yeah. That’s fine. Just wanted to make sure. Can I tell Yuu?”

Akaashi said yes. He wanted his friends to know. But at this point he was still deep in the honeymoon bliss, and he didn’t want anything to jeopardize that. He’d figure out the Bokuto of it all later.

~

On a warm evening in October, Kousuke was sitting on his fire escape playing classical violin and dragging on a cigarette with his eyes closed and his brows slightly furrowed. From inside the apartment, Akaashi was staring at him, captured in a reverie. He was supposed to be editing pages, but he couldn’t take his eyes away.

Kousuke was usually full of energy. His natural state seemed to be surrounded by friends whom he loved on and made laugh. But sometimes he’d have these quiet moments where Akaashi could see his surprisingly brilliant mind working as he closed his eyes and drew his bow across the strings in a way that suggested some deep inner conflict or far-reaching dream.

Akaashi’s heart burned. How had this happened? How had this beautiful, romantic, deep-thinking, chain-smoking wonder of a man managed to appear in his life? What had he done that made this boy look twice at a sheltered, closed off loner like himself? Why of all people did he have the privilege of witnessing this quiet side of him?

Akaashi gave up on work for the night. With Kousuke looking like that, he knew he wouldn’t be able to focus anymore.

He got up and walked towards the window. Kousuke opened his eyes and took the bow off the strings. He smiled at Akaashi around the Marlboro in his mouth. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Akaashi smiled back. He climbed through the window and sat on the sill. “How long have you played?”

“Since I was three. Forced into lessons for my whole life. But now I love it.”

“You’re really good.”

“Thanks,” Kousuke said as he gently laid the violin back in its case. “The music scholarship got me through college. Had to double major, but it was worth it.”

“How long have you smoked?” Akaashi asked.

“Oof,” Kousuke winced. He took the cigarette from his mouth and held it between his fingers. “Started at 15.”

“Yikes.”

Kousuke laughed. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a very blunt person?”

“A few here and there.”

“Does it bother you?” Kousuke asked seriously. “I can try not to smoke when you’re here.”

Akaashi shook his head. Kousuke looked more like Kousuke with a cigarette between his lips. And Akaashi was ashamed at how much he liked it. “No. I mean, I’m worried for your health and all. But it doesn’t bother me.”

Kousuke looked a little relieved, but he still leaned forward and put the cigarette out on an ashtray. “I’ve tried to quit a million times,” he said, “but it never sticks. The ad campaigns need a new strategy. You can’t convince people that smoking isn’t cool and fun. Smoking is cool and fun!”

Akaashi laughed. “How’d you start?”

Kousuke sighed and looked up at the sky. “I started going out really young. Too young really. I thought I was old enough to date and meet people and start gaining life experiences and whatnot. I learned a lot and had a lot of fun, but I also did some really stupid stuff. Like flirt with grown men by taking their cigarettes.”

“Wow.”

“It was stupid. But it felt good at the time.” Kousuke smiled up at him. “You ever do stuff like that?”

Akaashi shook his head. “Not even close. Sorry. I’m kinda boring.”

Kousuke reached out and grabbed his hands. “Stop apologizing. And you’re not boring.”

“You sure? You’re so free and outgoing. You’ve done way more living than me, and everybody wants you. I’m kinda worried you’ll get bored of me.”

As soon as the words were out, Akaashi wanted to take them back. It was too early to be saying these types of things and showing this much of himself. He was letting insecurities surface that he’d normally keep buried deep.

But Kousuke just pulled him closer. Akaashi slid off the windowsill and moved to stand between his legs. Kousuke put his arms around his waist. “I’m not gonna get bored. Because you aren’t boring. You’re brilliant. And awesome. I like you a lot.” Akaashi smiled, and Kousuke kept talking. “And everybody wants you too by the way. You might not see it, but I do.”

Akaashi blushed and scoffed.

“But I think I want you most,” Kousuke murmured with a smile. “More than anyone.”

Akaashi wanted to cover up his smile — a smile he’d almost forgotten how to make until Kousuke had sat down with him at that coffee shop — but Kousuke had grabbed his hands again. It’s too early for this… he thought. What am I doing…? But he said it anyway.

“I want you the most too.”

August and September were a whirlwind for Bokuto. By the time the regular club season rolled around, he was utterly exhausted. It was his third year on the national team, but in the previous seasons he hadn’t played as much, and he definitely hadn’t gone out as much.

Summers had been practice, eat, go to sleep early, get on a plane, play a game, and wake up to do it all over again. This time he’d had Atsumu and a few other good friends with him, and they’d really let themselves go with the sightseeing and the afterparties.

He was ready for a break. The standard club season was a lot simpler. Traveling around Japan each weekend was nothing compared to the constant flights and time zone changes.

“I’m glad you guys are back,” Hinata said. The friends were lying sprawled on the sofa in Bokuto’s apartment after eating an extravagant welcome back dinner prepared by Miya Osamu.

“Me too man,” Bokuto sighed. “I mean don’t get me wrong, it was fucking awesome. But I’m tired.”

“Think I’ll get to go next year?”

“Yeah totally!” Bokuto exclaimed. “I’m sure you’ll get called for it.”

“He hasn’t even played in an official club game yet,” Sakusa muttered from the table. “Don’t give him false hope.”

Sakusa had been on the national team since he was 18, even before Bokuto had been recruited. For him the travel and the tiredness were all old news. He had his life down to a minute-by-minute routine, and professional sports were just a job at this point. He’d rolled his eyes every time Atsumu and Bokuto had sat around the breakfast table attempting to pick sights to visit in each country. Not that they ever managed to stick to their plans. Sakusa would tighten the straps on his mask and tell them they should just go to the hotel and rest. They hadn’t listened once.

“Shut up Omi!” Atsumu shouted. "You never played a game against Shoyo in high school. He’s a fucking monster out there.”

“Thanks Atsumu-san,” Hinata grinned.

“I got you. So what’d you do all summer when we were gone?” Atsumu asked.

Hinata shrugged. “Train mostly. Gotta make sure I’m ready if I wanna get a starting spot. I’ve never played opposite before, so it’s been kinda weird getting used to it.”

“That’s it? You just spent the summer in the gym?”

“I’m a serious player!” Hinata protested. “I mean, yeah, I went out too, but I wasn’t partying too much.”

“I feel like the Brazil definition of ‘not too much’ is different than the Japan one,” Bokuto threw in. He and Atsumu had really loved Brazil.

“Volleyball comes first,” Hinata insisted. “But I did enjoy the weekends. It’s a new city for me, so I wanted to meet people. I went to some parties, fell in love a few times. Just normal stuff.”

“Oh just ‘a few times’?” Atsumu repeated sarcastically. “You’re ridiculous Shoyo.”

“I mean it!” Hinata insisted. “Like multiple dates with people. I saw this one guy five times! That’s a lot for me.”

“I don’t think you know what love means…” Osamu said slowly.

“Wait, did you say guy?” Bokuto shot up off the sofa. “I didn’t know you liked guys! How has this not come up?!”

“Oh yeah,” Hinata said nonchalantly. “I’m like you, I like both. Or I guess both is the wrong word. I like everyone. Regardless. Didn’t really figure it out till I’d been in Rio for a while though. Japan doesn’t exactly support being queer.”

“True that,” Bokuto sighed. “Well cool, that’s good to know. Atsumu what about you?”

“Sorry man. Unfortunately for you I am just straight.”

“I think you mean unfortunately for women,” Osamu corrected under his breath.

“Shut up dick!” Atsumu retorted. “Omi! You gay?”

Sakusa just shot him a look of disgust and did not answer the question. “I’m going home,” he said in response, and he promptly got up and left.

“Bye Omi-Omi!” They all yelled. It was a miracle they’d even convinced him to come over. Sakusa was not the human interaction type.

“I’m gonna go with aro/ace,” Atsumu announced after he left. The others nodded in agreement.

Bokuto fell back on the sofa. He was definitely on the right team. Having Hinata and Atsumu around made everything fun. There weren’t many people who could match his energy or his love for volleyball, but they definitely could. He was surrounded by like-minded souls and was starting to feel more like himself again. He had a feeling this would be a great season.

Chapter Text

In late October, the Black Jackals were sitting in a team meeting going over game footage from the night before. At the end of the meeting the team manager said he had an announcement.

“By the way guys, we got a request from a shonen magazine for interviews. Would any of you like to volunteer? It’ll be after the Adlers game in Sendai next month.”

Bokuto’s head shot up. “What magazine?” he asked a little too eagerly. A few teammates gave him funny looks.

“Uhh,” their manager checked his notes. “Shonen VAI something…”

“Who’s interviewing?” Bokuto could feel disappointment radiating off of Atsumu next to him. He ignored it.

“I’m not sure…”

“I’ll do it!”

“Well ok then!” Their manager said. “Thank you Bokuto-kun. I’ll send you the details later.”

Bokuto nodded. What are the chances? Probably small. But it’s not zero.

“Who’s playing?” Akaashi tried to keep his voice neutral. He and Tenma were standing in their supervisor’s office and had just been informed of the interviews.

The supervisor checked his notes. “The Schweiden Adlers and MSBY Black Jackals.”

Akaashi’s heart sank.

Their supervisor continued, “You’ll be interviewing…” he listed off a couple names Akaashi vaguely recognized, and then, “…and Bokuto Koutarou.”

Akaashi’s heart stuttered. He hadn’t seen or spoken to Bokuto since the wedding and follow up call last April. This might be bad. “Oh. Cool.”

“Yeah, I figured it’d be good for you guys to do it. Since you’re both into volleyball.”

Akaashi sighed. This was the second time high school volleyball had bitten him in the ass in his professional career. The only reason his company had him working in the manga department and not literature like he wanted was because shortly after getting hired, he’d let it slip that he knew Tenma from the high school volleyball circuits. The higher ups had taken that as a sign they’d be perfect partners, and the next thing he knew Akaashi had been transferred full time to the manga side of the office. Now he was heading up to Sendai to conduct an interview with his ex-boyfriend. He needed to sit down.

“You good?” Tenma asked as they walked out of the office.

“Yeah. I’m good,” Akaashi lied.

“Do you know any of the players?”

“Yeah, a bunch actually. From nationals and stuff. Hinata and Kageyama are on those teams. I know Miya Atsumu a little too. We were both setters. And, um…I went to high school with Bokuto Koutarou actually. So…yeah.”

“Oh nice! You’ll be able to interview him then.”

“Yeah…sure.”

Bokuto had read the email over 20 times.

Magazine representatives: Udai Tenma and Akaashi Keiji.

He’d nearly shouted with excitement when he saw it. The gamble had paid off. He was reading the name again as he sat on the floor of his living room.

“You’re an idiot,” Atsumu yelled from the sofa where he was playing Smash with Hinata. He’d been repeating this over and over since he saw Bokuto’s face upon receiving the email. “Ex-boyfriend remember? If you get drunk and start puking and crying in the club again, I refuse to pull you off another bathroom floor.”

“One time man!” Bokuto yelled back. “That happened one time! And yes you would.” That specific incident had only happened one time, but it hadn’t been the only night that summer where he gotten too drunk or got triggered by a memory and started talking about Keiji. Atsumu had usually been on the other end of those breakdowns, though he politely never brought them up again.

“I’m just saying, you’re still a disaster, and a healthy person would not be that eager to do an interview for a teen magazine on the off chance that their ex is gonna be there.”

“I’ll take your place if you change your mind, Bokuto-san!” Hinata added.

“I’m not gonna change my mind!” Bokuto shouted back.

Akaashi called Kousuke as soon as he left work.

“Ciao bello,” he answered. Hey beautiful. Kousuke slipped random bits of Italian into his speech. Akaashi found it adorable, and he sighed out a little of his stress.

“Hey…”

“What’s that tone?” Kousuke asked. “You sound nervous.”

“Yeah…um. So, I got some news today.”

“What news?”

“I’mgoingtoSendainextmonthtodointerviewsforthemagazineataV.LeaguegameandoneofthemisKoutarou,” Akaashi blurted.

“Ah. Ok.” Kousuke sounded like he was thinking, and Akaashi was relieved he didn’t need to repeat himself.

“Is that ok?” He asked. “I can try and get out of it.”

“I’m ok with it as long as you are,” Kousuke said slowly. “Keiji, you don’t need my permission. It’s for work. I get it. It’s weird, but…I mean I trust you.”

Akaashi sighed. “Thanks. I…I feel really weird about it. I’m nervous.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“April. At a wedding.” He winced at the memory. It had not been his finest hour.

“I see. Well, don’t worry, we can talk about it tonight.”

“Are you sure it’s not weird for me to talk about this stuff with you?”

“No, not at all. You’re my boyfriend. I wanna know what you’re thinking.”

Akaashi smiled and thanked the heavens for sending him such a good boyfriend. He tried to imagine what Bokuto would have done in this situation. Probably panicked. Or said he wanted to go with him. Either way, Akaashi knew that this was one of those things that he, himself, would have gone out of his way to avoid talking to him about. He had always done everything he could to keep Bokuto as low stress as possible. That included hiding a lot of stuff from him. It had caused problems.

He pushed that thought out of his head and said, “Thanks. You’re really great. I’m glad I’m with you.”

“Thanks Keiji. I’m glad I’m with you too.”

“I’m heading home now,” Akaashi said in a softer voice. “Do you wanna come over tonight?”

“Yeah!” Kousuke said. “I’ll bring you dinner. See you soon.”

In November of 2018, Akaashi sat in the Sendai gymnasium with Tenma watching the incredible Adlers x Jackals game play out. Akaashi liked watching Bokuto play. He always had. He’d fallen in love with him at first sight as he watched him hover in the air. Akaashi had loved his wide yellow eyes and open mouth and outreached arm as he hung suspended waiting for the ball. He loved the thrill he got when that ball came slamming into the ground with more force than anyone should be able to exert on it.

Bokuto was beautiful when he played. Captivating and hypnotic. Akaashi remembered how much he had loved sitting in the stands and watching Bokuto draw in the crowd until they all fell in love with him too. He’d been so proud. So happy that this incredible man was his.

He wasn’t his anymore. But he was still incredible. And he was the same. The same jumps and cheers and wild laughs and celebrations. He was good too. Even better than the last time Akaashi had seen him play a year ago. Better and bigger and stronger and smarter. Akaashi felt his heart start to pound as he watched him. He was smiling. It felt wrong to smile.

Bokuto knew Akaashi was there in the crowd. He tried his best not to look for him so he could focus on the game. He was playing well. Really well. But his mind still wandered to his college days where he would score a miracle point and turn and point to where Akaashi was sitting in the stands, hiding his face from the attention. He wondered what Akaashi would do if he did that today. He pushed the thought from his mind.

For the last week, the upcoming interview was all he’d been able to think about. He hadn’t come up with any answers to the questions yet. His brain simply knew that he would be seeing Akaashi again and was too focused on that to do anything else.

He was also excited about what was coming after the match. Kuroo had texted and said that they should all go out afterwards since so many of their friends were in town for this game. He didn’t know yet if Akaashi would be going. He knew he’d been invited though. Noya was out of the country on one of his trips, so Bokuto couldn’t ask him. And he wasn’t desperate enough to pose that question to any of their other friends. No one else had remained as neutral.

MSBY won the game, with Bokuto scoring the winning point. He did his greetings with the fans and his friends until his scheduled time to talk to Akaashi and Tenma. He was still riding high from the game when he entered the interview room, and he kept the smile plastered to his face as he flipped the chair and sat down backwards, finally looking up to face Akaashi for the first time.

He’d steeled himself inside beforehand, but his heart still fluttered a bit. Akaashi looked as perfect as always. He was in a stylish black sweater and tan coat. His hair was longer, and he was wearing his glasses. Bokuto remembered helping him pick out those glasses. He looked far more relaxed than the last time Bokuto had seen him, carrying his long thin body with poise and a soft smile on his face.

The interview went well. Bokuto made a comment at the beginning about hurrying up the interview so they could go eat. He tried to keep his voice casual, but he was actually trying to judge by Akaashi’s reaction whether or not he’d be going to the after party. Akaashi smiled at him. Bokuto smiled back. They kept it light, and even though it stung a bit when Akaashi called him “Bokuto-san” instead of “Koutarou,” he seemed to understand him just as well as he always had. Tenma didn’t say a word. He just sat quietly by and let them talk. Bokuto was thrilled. It may have been a formal interview, but it was the best conversation they’d had since before their breakup almost exactly a year before.

After the interview he met up with Kuroo who was talking to the Karasuno alumni. Bokuto hugged them as well. Akaashi came up shortly afterwards and started talking to Asahi. He didn’t speak to Bokuto, but he nodded at him in acknowledgment. Bokuto grinned back. They packed up in cars and headed to a pub in Sendai’s entertainment quarter.

After an hour or two of chatting and laughing and catching up with old friends, Bokuto found himself staring at Akaashi across the bar. Akaashi was standing in the corner holding his phone. It looked like he was texting. His long tan overcoat hung loose by his legs.

Bokuto noticed that he’d put his earrings back in. Two tiny gold hoops in each ear that he’d taken out while working. Bokuto’s heart started to pick up. He’d always found the earrings incomparably sexy. Akaashi had had them done after high school, and Bokuto had held his hand while the needle went through. More for his own sake than Akaashi’s who had insisted it didn’t hurt at all.

By the time he was three drinks deep, Bokuto was starting to forget how Akaashi had asked for space in the Spring. It’s been seven months. I can talk to him now, right? Bokuto watched him a little longer as he stood alone typing on his phone. Soon enough he was walking towards him again. As he always did. It didn’t matter if it was a high school gymnasium or a bar 300 miles from home. Ever since he was 16 years old, every time he entered a room, he searched for familiar dark hair and blue eyes on a beautiful, unsmiling face. And when he spotted him, his own smile lit up, and he was pulled towards him like gravity.

“Hey,” he smiled at him. “That interview was fun!”

Akaashi looked up from his phone in surprise. He quickly shoved it in his coat pocket. “Yeah, I think it went well,” he said politely. “Thank you for doing it.”

Bokuto shivered and had to bite his lip to keep from grinning. He loved Akaashi’s smooth voice and the way he folded his long, thin fingers together and held them laced in front of him. “Did you know it was gonna be me before you signed up to do it?” He asked.

“Actually no,” Akaashi said with an awkward smile. “We didn’t sign up for it, the company just chose us since we have volleyball experience. Weird coincidence.”

“Oh,” Bokuto sighed and tried not to appear disappointed. “I see. Well, how are you?”

Akaashi took in a deep breath before replying. “Good! I’m good. Been busy with work and stuff.”

“Same. This summer was crazy. I think I went to eight countries.”

“Which was your favorite?”

“I don’t know! Maybe Brazil. Or Indonesia.” Bokuto was fully grinning now. Akaashi was speaking to him, and his already great night was now significantly better.

“That’s great, Koutarou.”

Oh thank god. No more Bokuto-san. He hadn’t liked the formality of the interview. “Yeah, I loved it! Did you do anything exciting this summer?”

Akaashi glanced away before answering. “No. Not really. Just been busy with work.”

Bokuto nodded. “I saw Udai-san left already. You guys must be pretty overworked.”

Akaashi shrugged. “It’s not terrible. I have time for one night off.”

“Cool. I saw you in the corner over here and thought maybe you were working. Editing on your phone in a bar is something only you would do.”

Akaashi almost smiled. “No. Not working. And I’m choosing to believe that’s a compliment.”

Bokuto leaned back against the wall next to him. “So that’s it? Nothing else going on?”

Akaashi’s smile faded and he crossed his arms over his chest. “No,” he exhaled. “Just the same.”

“You should try and go out more. There’s a lot to do in Tokyo.”

“I know. I do try. More lately.”

“That’s great! But really, it’s ok. I know you like to be home.”

Akaashi exhaled sharply through his nose. “Yeah.”

Bokuto wondered if he’d said something wrong and pivoted. “I’m glad it’s going well. I know you were nervous about getting a good job.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m happy for now. MSBY looks like it’s gonna have a good year.”

“Oh dude, we’re gonna be awesome!!” Bokuto was always happy to talk about volleyball. “The Adlers won the championship last year, and we just took them down, so I think we can win it all!”

Akaashi smiled a real smile. “I’m happy for you, Kou. You earned it.”

Bokuto beamed. “Thanks, Keiji.”

Just then Tanaka walked up to them.

“Bokuto!” Tanaka hugged him. “Bro you were awesome out there! I got chills at that last hit! Super sick!”

Bokuto laughed. He had scored the winning point of the game after they’d tricked the blockers into following Hinata. “Thanks! Shoyo was a good decoy.”

“Always was!” Tanaka laughed.

“Um, I’ll see you guys later. Gonna go talk over…there. Um. Yeah. Nice to see you Tanaka. And Koutarou.” Akaashi awkwardly tucked his hands into his pockets and walked across the bar to where Yachi was standing.

Bokuto followed him with his eyes, though he wanted to do so with his body. But he turned back to Tanaka and kept talking.

~

Bokuto went back to his hotel that evening and spent longer in the shower than usual. It had been an amazing day. He’d played one of the best games of his life and seen so many old friends. He should have been on top of the world. But as he stood under the water, he realized he was sad. And labeling the sadness as such made it worse.

He’d been so happy seeing Akaashi and so happy talking to him. But the longer he stood next to him, the harder it became to deny that his feelings were still there. Because Keiji was still Keiji. The same as he’d been when he was his Keiji. He’d felt his steadiness and wit and intelligent perceptions. And they still pulled him in and made him want to be with him and made him want to touch him. And that was terrible.

He’d loved him and shared a home with him and planned a life with him. But now all they could do was make small talk like awkward acquaintances. How depressing it was that he’d been elated at their just being able to say hello when he used to pull Akaashi’s body into his every night.

Bokuto turned off the water and stepped out to look in the mirror, wiping the condensation away with his hand to see his own face. He wondered what it was like for Akaashi to look at him. Did he also remember loving him? Did Bokuto have the same qualities he did when Akaashi fell for him all those years ago? At some point along the way had he lost those things, and was that why Akaashi had left?

He could see the uncharacteristic somberness in his own eyes as he looked at himself. His wet hair was falling onto his forehead, and he brought his fingers up to touch it. Akaashi had always said he liked his hair long and when he wore it down. But Bokuto had continued to put it up in spikes every day. And it was shorter now.

He felt a growing frustration in his chest and had a sudden desire to pull hard on his hair until it grew longer and fell into his eyes the way Akaashi had liked it most. Would that have changed the way he looked at him tonight? What would it take for that to happen? What would it take for Akaashi to look at him again with love in his eyes? If he changed his clothes or his face or pierced his ears or became MVP of a tournament. Would that bring him back? His thoughts started to spiral. If he got kidnapped or jumped off a building or almost died in a car crash would Akaashi come running?

Bokuto left the bathroom before he started to get any truly terrible ideas. He tried to remember the best parts of the day. Scoring the winning point. Playing with Hinata in an official match for the first time. Seeing so many of his favorite people again. But the best he could do was bittersweet. Because Keiji was still Keiji. But he wasn’t with Bokuto anymore. And he didn’t want to be.

After the celebrations, Akaashi stayed with Asahi overnight at his parents’ house. “Sorry. I think I’m gonna call Kousuke,” he said after Asahi got him set up in his sister’s old room. “Before he goes to sleep.”

“Yeah, no problem!” Asahi also knew Kousuke through the modeling connections. He remembered Kousuke as being kind, talkative, and lighthearted. All things he wanted more of for Akaashi. So when he had told him they’d started dating, Asahi had been happy for them. “Night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Night,” Akaashi smiled as Asahi closed the door behind him.

He sat down on the bed and called.

“Hey, Keiji,” Kousuke answered.

“Hi,” Akaashi felt himself relax at the sound of that voice, the remaining stress of the day fading. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I was up,” Kousuke said. “It’s not that late. How are you?”

“I’m fine. It was good to see everyone.”

“I’m happy for you. Thanks for keeping me posted all day.”

“Yeah, no problem. I…I miss you.”

“Keiji,” Kousuke laughed. “I saw you off at the station this morning.”

“I know, but it’s been a long day.”

“Well, I miss you too.”

Akaashi smiled. “It feels weird that I’m gonna go to sleep now, and you aren’t here.”

“I guess I do come over quite a bit,” Kousuke said. “Your apartment is just so close to my job. Cuts the commute in half.” He paused and said in a softer voice, “Also, I like you an awful lot.”

Akaashi grinned to himself and curled into a ball. This boy was going to kill him. He felt 17. Giddy and special. “I like you an awful lot too.”

Chapter Text

The morning after the game, Akaashi rode the train back to Tokyo together with Yachi and Asahi. They talked about how good it had been to see everyone. Even Yachi had been convinced to go out to the bars afterwards.

“I saw you talking to Bokuto,” Asahi said carefully after a long pause of introvert friend group silence. “Were you ok?”

Akaashi exhaled slowly before answering. “Yeah. It was fine.”

“That’s good,” Asahi smiled. “I’m glad you guys can be friends.”

Akaashi looked down. “I’m not sure I’d call us that. But yeah. At least we didn’t fight.”

Akaashi felt that calling him and Bokuto friends was a bit of an exaggeration. They didn’t speak unless they had to. Akaashi hadn’t told him about Kousuke even though the rest of his friends knew. He’d lied directly to his face. Or at least intentionally omitted the truth. That didn’t sound like friends. But when he tried to imagine a world where Bokuto knew he was with someone new, he couldn’t do it. Not even after a year.

It was the way he looked at him. Bokuto wasn’t good at hiding his emotions, and Akaashi knew him well enough to see even beyond what most people could. And in Bokuto’s eyes he saw something desperate. A hope and sadness that was too painful for Akaashi to look at for more than a few moments. It reminded him of when they’d been together and how much he had hurt him by ending things.

When Bokuto had walked up to him, he’d hidden his phone in his jacket mid-text as if Bokuto might be able to sense who the person on the other end was. And Akaashi didn’t want him to see. He didn’t want to hurt him again. But it was selfish too. Things with Kousuke were going so well, and an ex-boyfriend who might still have feelings for him was a large complication he was still too scared to think about.

“I think maybe I should have told him,” he murmured. “About Kousuke.”

Asahi frowned. “Maybe yeah. It’ll be hard, but he has to find out eventually.”

“I wish…I wish he would meet someone too,” Akaashi admitted. “I know that’s selfish. But it would make it easier. I feel guilty, even though I know I didn’t do anything.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Asahi agreed. “And he’ll know that. Regardless of how he still feels.”

Akaashi looked up quickly. “You think he still has feelings for me?”

“Don’t you?”

“Yes. But I hadn’t told anyone. I was kind of hoping it was in my head.”

Asahi shook his head sadly. “I saw how he looks at you. Also, he still went to go talk to you. Even after what happened at the wedding. I don’t think he can help it.”

Akaashi glanced at Yachi who had been sitting in silence listening to this exchange. She smiled gently and shrugged. Akaashi roughly laid his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. “But you think he could handle it if I told him?”

Asahi was silent for a few moments. “I don’t know. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. And if he can’t handle it, that’s not your fault.”

Akaashi just stared out the window as the hills rolled by.

“It’s probably harder than most people think,” Asahi mused quietly. “To not love someone back.”

Akaashi looked at him. He was looking out the window too. “Maybe yeah. With me and Koutarou… it’s just tough. When I’m around him, or even when I think about him, I’m so uncomfortable. I don’t want to hurt him anymore, but I also don’t really want to see him. And then I feel guilty for that. Maybe someday I’ll want to be his friend, but right now I don’t think I can.”

Asahi let out a long exhale. “That really sucks, Akaashi. I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok. It is what it is.” He didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to be home. He wanted to feel Kousuke’s warmth against his body and in his chest. He wanted to feel a love strong enough to push out and replace the bad feelings he got when he thought about Bokuto.

He looked out the window again, and his mind wandered back to a night the month before. They’d been lying in bed, and Akaashi was lazily tracing the tattoos on Kousuke’s skin. He had a lot of them. Little ones on his arms. Bigger ones on his torso and legs. Tiny words between his fingers. As Akaashi drew his fingers across the black lines and pictures, he asked Kousuke about each one and the stories behind them. Kousuke had smiled.

“A lot of them are stupid. Done on a whim or something. Or I did them myself.”

“I still wanna know,” Akaashi replied as he kissed a violin painted behind his ear. “Tell me. What was the first one you got?”

Kousuke pointed at a little sword on the inside of his left forearm. It had been worked into the other designs surrounding it and blended right in. “This one.”

“How old were you?”

“16. An old boyfriend did it with a stick and poke kit.” Kousuke shook his head at the memory.

“Why a sword?”

“I don’t know,” he laughed. “I guess cause it’s easy to draw, and we thought it was cool? Like I said, a lot of them are stupid.”

“What’s this one?” Akaashi pointed at a mountain on his chest. It was a beautiful drawing. Detailed lines depicting the peaks and clouds. It had words written in calligraphy across it.

“That’s from a poem,” Kousuke explained. ““Mont Blanc” by Percy Bysshe Shelly. I drew that one.”

Akaashi marveled. “You drew this?”

“Yeah. I actually drew a lot of these. Just gave the picture to the artist.”

“They’re amazing… I didn’t know you made art too. I thought you just studied it.”

“When you go to art school, they make you learn a little at least. I can draw, but I wouldn’t call it art. I’m not that good.”

Akaashi disagreed. “What does it mean?” He traced the words written across the mountain.

“‘I seem as in a trance sublime and strange, To muse on my own separate fantasy’,” Kousuke translated.

“Hm,” Akaashi mused.

“That actually sounds kind of like you,” Kousuke murmured as he dragged a hand through Akaashi’s hair. “You’re always thinking about your own worlds. Lost to reality in that genius head of yours.”

Akaashi blushed and leaned into his touch. “So are you.”

Kousuke smiled. “I know. That’s why I got it.”

Akaashi laughed. “I’ll have to read the rest of the poem.”

“I’ll read it to you if you want,” Kousuke offered.

Akaashi let his eyes get lost on his boyfriend’s face. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

They went through the rest of the tattoos. An enormous crow that stretched from his upper arm across his shoulder and onto his back. Abstract plants on his calves. A music staff with first notes of the first concerto he performed. More quotes from stories or poems he loved and designs he thought went with them. Lots really were just silly. Kousuke put his face in his hands when they got to one of a Pokémon. “That was a dare. Can’t believe I went through with it.”

“No, it’s cute,” Akaashi giggled. “Which one hurt the most?”

Kousuke rolled onto his stomach and pointed over his shoulder. “My spine.”

Akaashi ran his fingers along Kousuke’s lean back. From the base of his spine, nearly up to his neck, was an enormous and gorgeous image of two sea serpents fighting amongst crashing waves.

“Wow.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Either that or my shin.” Kousuke flipped over and pointed to an adorable pinup of Dolly Parton on his left leg. “Dolly’s worth it though.”

Akaashi laughed. He lay back down on Kousuke’s chest. “I think you’re beautiful.”

Kousuke blushed. “Really?”

Akaashi nodded. “You’ve got your life painted on your skin. It’s cool.”

“I… I was actually worried,” Kousuke admitted softly. “I wasn’t sure what you’d think when you saw me like this.”

“I knew you had them,” Akaashi said as he read the words ‘always love’ written in Italian along the inside of Kousuke’s middle finger. “I saw the makeup team trying to cover them up for shows.”

“Still,” Kousuke said softly. “I’m relieved. A lot of people here don’t approve.”

“Well, I do. So you can’t go to hot springs, who gives a shit? You’re beautiful.”

Kousuke laughed. “You’re beautiful too.”

He put a finger under Akaashi’s chin, tilted it up, and leaned forward to kiss him. Akaashi smiled against his lips and kissed him back.

Akaashi’s phone buzzing woke him from the memory. He checked it to see a message from Kousuke.

Let me know when you’re close and I’ll meet you at the station. I heard about a new restaurant today and I wanna go out. You could stop to change first if you want though it’s not far from your place.

Akaashi smiled. Sounds good. he texted back. I’ll at least drop my bag off.

It wasn’t like him, but he’d been smiling a lot these days. Akaashi sent another text. When we get back you should read me something. Anything you want but pick something good.

Kousuke replied. Scanning my shelves now. I’m feeling American short story collections. Get excited.

“What’s funny?”

Akaashi looked up and saw Asahi eyeing him.

“Nothing,” he replied. “Just talking to Kousuke. About nerd stuff.” It was true. Taking turns reading to each other was about as nerdy as a couple could get. Akaashi knew it was a miracle he’d found someone who was not only willing to do that with him, but actually suggested it first.

Asahi laughed. “I’m glad you’re happy, Akaashi.”

“Me too. I am happy.”

Two weeks later, Bokuto was lying on his bed scrolling through Instagram, already in a poor mood. He had had a bad game that day and been benched in the third set.

He hit the explore tab and mindlessly clicked through posts. Suddenly he froze when he saw a picture of hands. Two sets of hands holding each other on a table. Male hands.

Bokuto’s heart started pounding as he zoomed in. One of the hands had a word tattooed down the middle finger in a language he didn’t recognize. It was holding a hand that was slender with long, thin fingers and bony knuckles. Bokuto knew those hands.

He looked for a caption. It just said ‘life lately.’ No one was tagged. He flipped through the rest of the photos in the set. They were just random photos from the guy’s life. His face was in a few. Bokuto didn’t think he recognized him, but he was a good-looking guy. Tall and thin with a big smile.

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Bokuto sat straight up in bed and found himself walking out of his room. He started pacing as he clicked on the profile.

lkhashimoto

The name didn’t ring any bells. Then he clicked on their mutuals. ‘Followed by midori, azumaneasahidesigns, kodzuken, and 4 others.’ He clicked on others. There, at the bottom: akaashikeiji.

Bokuto’s vision tunneled. He opened his phone app to call Noya before remembering he was in Europe. He hit FaceTime audio instead, hoping that wherever Noya was he at least had wifi.

“Hey Koutarou,” he answered, sounding half asleep. Bokuto had forgotten about time zones. “What’s up?”

Bokuto didn’t bother saying hi. “Does Keiji have a boyfriend?”

He heard Noya mutter “fuck…” under his breath before bringing the phone back to his face. “Yeah. Yeah, he does.”

Bokuto felt his heart drop into his stomach. “Why…why didn’t I know? Who is it? How long?”

“Look Kou, he wasn’t ready to tell you yet.”

“Do I know him? Who is it?”

“No, you don’t know him. At least I don’t think. It’s a guy he used to model with back in college. It’s been a couple months.”

Months…and he knew the guy when we were together… “Is…is it serious?”

“Dude, I don’t think I should be telling you this. I’m sorry, you know I love you, but Keiji asked me not to.”

“Does everyone else know? Noya come on, how serious is it??”

“I’m not telling you that! How’d you even find out?”

Bokuto was starting to get angry. “Instagram. The guy’s post came up in my feed cause apparently, we have a bunch of mutuals. His face wasn’t in it, and he wasn’t tagged but… I recognized his hands.”

Noya sighed, and Bokuto could picture him tugging on the blonde streak in his hair. “I’m sorry Kou. I really am. I know it sucks, but it’s been a year! He moved on. You should too.”

“I saw him last month!” Bokuto shouted. “In Sendai! We talked! We hung out! How could he not tell me??” He flung a volleyball at the wall of his apartment. It bounced off and almost hit his tv.

“Hey hey Koutarou stop! It’s Keiji’s choice.”

Bokuto deflated. “I know, I know. Damn it! I don’t wanna be freaking out, but I am.”

“It’s ok. I get it. You know you’ve dated too though. Keiji knows that.”

“I haven’t gotten a new boyfriend yet.”

“Yeah, but you will someday.”

Bokuto was barely listening. “I’m in Tokyo next week for the holidays. I’m gonna call him.”

“Kou… I wouldn’t…”

“If he doesn’t wanna see me that’s fine, but I’m at least gonna ask.”

Noya just sighed. He was too tired to argue. “Fine. I think it’s a bad idea, but I can’t stop you.”

“I’m not gonna do anything stupid.”

“I know you, and you sound like you are.”

“I’m not. I promise.” Bokuto took a second to breathe. “You coming home for Christmas?”

Noya paused, but he let it go. “No, I’ll be in LA.”

“Alright. Call when you’re coming back next.”

“I will. And be careful. I’m serious.”

“You too. Bye.”

Akaashi woke to a text from Noya the next day.

Noya

Heads up Koutarou knows about Kousuke. Guess he instagram detective’d it out.

Akaashi

Shit. How’d he take it?

Noya

Bad. He might call you. He wants to see you over Christmas. I told him not to but I don’t think he was listening.

Akaashi

It’s ok. Thanks. I’ll figure it out.

Noya

He’ll probably be ok. I think it just surprised him to find out like that. He seemed more mad no one told him.

Akaashi

It’s not my job to tell him. It’s been over a year.

Noya

I know. Sorry man. Want me to call him back and say don’t do it?

Akaashi

No I’ll handle it. I already feel bad you’re in the middle of all this.

Noya

Ok. Just let me know. And it’s ok, you’re both my friends.

Akaashi

Thanks. I’ll keep you posted.

Akaashi didn’t know what to do. He figured probably nothing until he actually heard from Bokuto. And if he did then… his brain started formulating plans. Should he talk to him? They’d been fine in Sendai, but if Bokuto wanted to talk about Kousuke then Akaashi didn’t know if he was ok with that. What would he say if he did see him? What could he tell him? It depended on what he wanted.

Akaashi closed his laptop and got up to walk around. He was wishing he had just told him in Sendai. How much of a scene could they really cause in a bar amongst all their friends? He paused to wince remembering what had almost happened at the wedding. But then again, neither he nor Bokuto were completely unreasonable people, and he wanted to believe that they’d have been able to have a mature conversation about it if he’d just told him.

But the thought of telling him still made Akaashi’s insides start to melt. He couldn’t even rationalize it in his own head, but for some reason he did not want to acknowledge that Kousuke and Koutarou existed in the same world. He didn’t want Bokuto to think about him or even know of his existence. They’d loved each other too much once upon a time for Akaashi to admit to him that he’d fallen for someone new, especially when Bokuto hadn’t. It was like he’d told Asahi. Friendship just didn’t seem like a viable option, or even an appealing one. He didn’t want to think about him at all.

Akaashi shook his head and tried hard to push Bokuto out of his mind. He wanted to talk to Kousuke. There was no point in thinking about this until he heard from Bokuto for sure. Maybe he’d change his mind and leave it alone. Akaashi hoped so.

Bokuto had spent the night scanning every detail of Kousuke’s Instagram for more signs of Akaashi. His profile picture was him in a suit holding up a peace sign.

Lapo Hashimoto (Kousuke)
23
Milan and Tokyo

His bio also had a link to a gallery downtown. Bokuto clicked on it and saw it was three blocks from Akaashi’s apartment. From their apartment.

He had scrolled back years into the photos. He’d found several from the fashion shows. Akaashi was in a couple, always group pictures. But there was one post where the sixth photo deep had Kousuke kissing Akaashi on the cheek, and Akaashi’s head was thrown back laughing. The kiss wasn’t at all out of place in the context of the photo. The rest of the models were also doing silly poses with each other, still in their outfits and makeup. It was probably supposed to be a joke. But Bokuto saw red. He saw another man kissing his boyfriend at a time when they had still been together.

Around 3 AM he’d finally passed out from mental exhaustion. He dreamt of Akaashi, as he often did, but this time when Akaashi smiled and whispered “come here,” it wasn’t Bokuto who walked forward into his arms.

He woke the next morning, unrested and angry that it was a Sunday because there was no game or practice to distract him from his roiling insides. He had had his finger over the call button all day. He knew he shouldn’t do it. But he had to know. It was killing him.

He always tried as hard as he possibly could not to imagine it, but he’d known deep down on a practical level that Akaashi had to be dating. But knowing he had an actual new boyfriend was a different story. Before, he could imagine that the people he might be seeing were as meaningless as the hookups Bokuto himself was having. Now that luxury was gone.

It felt like Akaashi was actually, truly slipping out of his life. And taking their friends with him. Bokuto typed and retyped a message ten times over. He put his phone away and came back to grab it again. He went back to Kousuke’s Instagram.

He looked at the group photo in the light of day, and it still made him just as angry. He knew then that he wouldn’t be able to take it. He’d never been good at turning his mind off from things. Without thinking anymore, he sent a text.

Hi. I’m going back to Tokyo for Christmas. Do you wanna hang out?

He stuffed his phone under a pillow and stood up to make dinner. He came back to check it every ten minutes. Akaashi didn’t respond. Three hours later he was ready to throw himself off his balcony when his phone finally buzzed. He dove over the back of his couch to grab it.

Hang out?

That was it. Disappointment hit like a truck. It had taken three and a half hours for Akaashi to send back two words. Bokuto stared at the screen trying to figure out what to say. He came up with nothing and called Hinata instead.

“Bokuto-san?” Hinata answered.

“Hinata! Hey!”

“What’s up?”

“I need your help.”

“Ooh ok! What is it?”

“If your ex-boyfriend had a new boyfriend, what would you do?”

“Uhh. I don’t know.”

“Ok, you hook up with a lot of people, right?”

“I wouldn’t say a lot…”

“Hinata you’re the team slut, everyone knows it.”

“Goddamn Bokuto-san…”

“Well anyway. Is there any chance you could date someone for two months and have it not be serious?”

“I don’t know…” Hinata sounded nervous. “Probably not. Two months is a while. I don’t think I’ve ever dated anyone that long.”

“Shit.” Bokuto curled into a ball.

“Does Akaashi-san have a new boyfriend?”

“Apparently.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Yeah. I’m kinda freaking out.”

“Yeah… hold on. Atsumu-san!” Hinata yelled.

“Oh fuck…” Bokuto muttered. Hinata and Atsumu lived in the same apartment complex. He hadn’t thought this through.

“Kou-kun! What’s up?” Atsumu was now on the line.

“Hey ‘Tsum.”

“I hear you’re being stupid again.”

“Keiji has a boyfriend.”

“No offense man, but you’ve been broken up longer than Shouyou and I have even been on MSBY. You just need to move on.”

“I have moved on.”

“Right. This is the type of phone call a person who’s moved on would be having. Of course.”

Bokuto pouted. “It’s bothering me.”

“Kou come on.” Atsumu was not having this. “You’ve stuck your dick in half of Osaka by now. I don’t think you really have a right to be upset.”

Bokuto resisted the urge to throw his phone at the wall. “I’m not that bad! I’m not Hinata!”

“Hey!” Hinata shouted.

“True,” Atsumu conceded. “Shouyou-kun has also fucked half of Brazil. But he doesn’t have an ex-boyfriend he’s panicking over. Don’t you think Keiji deserves to get some too? Get. Over. It.”

Bokuto fumed. Atsumu was a tactless asshole. But he was also right. “Fine. Thanks for the advice. Bye.”

“Bye Bokkun!”

“Bye Bokuto-san!” Hinata shouted.

“Fuck you, Hinata!” Bokuto hung up.

He stared at Akaashi’s message again. Then he looked back at the Instagram photos. Atsumu might have been right, but that didn’t mean Bokuto had to listen.

Akaashi was waiting for a message back from Bokuto with more cortisol rushing through his body than he got during finals week. Kousuke was eyeing him nervously as he smoked out the window. Eventually he put the cigarette out, ran over, and grabbed the phone out of Akaashi’s hands. “Keiji, maybe you’re a little too panicked about this.”

Akaashi looked at him. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Kousuke said as he sat down on the sofa next to him. “I mean, I don’t love seeing you spiral about an ex. But I mostly just wanna make sure you’re ok.”

Akaashi winced and pressed his face into Kousuke’s chest. “Sorry. You’re right, it shouldn’t be this big a deal. I talked to him last month, and it was fine. This isn’t fair to you.”

Kousuke rubbed his neck. “You don’t…you don’t still have feelings for him, do you?”

Akaashi sat straight up in a panic. “No! No, I promise. I’m with you now! It’s just that it’s been so weird every time we’ve seen each other. He tried to get back together with me in April, and I turned him down. Sendai was fine, but I think it’s cause so many other people were there, and we didn’t actually talk about anything.”

Kousuke let out a long sigh, and Akaashi could see the gears turning in his brain. “Listen caro,” he said eventually. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think maybe you should go see him.”

Akaashi stared. “What?”

“I believe you when you say you’re over him. I know you wouldn’t lie about that. But I think you’re bothered because you never got closure. I think you need to get to a place where you can talk to him and know it’ll be fine. And I get it. He was in your life for forever, and all of your friends are mutual. Of course you wanna get along. So if going to see him now is what it takes, then I think that’s what you should do.”

Akaashi got up on his knees, put his hands in Kousuke’s hair, and kissed him. He tasted like lip balm and Marlboros. “You’re amazing. And thank you. And you’re probably right. But I don’t know if I even want to see him. I’m scared.”

Kousuke put a hand on Akaashi’s waist. “That’s ok too. It’s whatever you decide.”

Just then the phone buzzed. Akaashi glanced back at Kousuke before he checked it. He leaned back against his boyfriend’s chest, and they read it together.

Yeah. It’d be cool to see you.

Bokuto got a text back 10 minutes later.

Ok. You can come to the apartment, just let me know before.

He nearly cried.

Chapter Text

On Christmas Eve Bokuto texted Akaashi that he was on his way over. Akaashi’s hands shook as he tried to finish eating dinner, but he was so nervous that he couldn’t get any more down. He texted Kousuke that it was happening, and Kousuke wished him luck.

Kousuke and Akaashi were celebrating Christmas together this year. While not as big a deal in Japan, it was a huge holiday in Italy, so Kousuke had been pretty bummed that he couldn’t go home to see his family. But international flights during the holidays were way out of his budget, and unfortunately he’d spent all his money on concert tickets for Akaashi’s birthday and an impulse purchase Versace jacket. Akaashi was beginning to realize that Kousuke could definitely use a personal manager. And was finding he was happy to be that for him.

Secretly he was a little grateful for Kousuke’s terrible planning skills as that meant he’d be right there in case things went poorly tonight and Akaashi needed the support. Kousuke had been right. The thought of seeing Bokuto scared the shit out of him. It brought up too many feelings that he wanted left in the past.

Towards the end of their relationship, he’d begun to feel that Bokuto’s presence simply drowned him out until he faded into the background. In the last few months, he’d finally been coming back to life, and he was starting to feel happy with himself. He didn’t want to become a shadow again. And deep, deep down, a part of him worried that he’d see Bokuto, and feelings would come back. That he’d smile, and Akaashi would fall under his spell again and revert to the anxious, irritable, wallflower he’d been when they were together. Nothing scared him more than that.

~

Bokuto knocked thirty minutes later, and Akaashi realized with a start that he’d never actually asked him for his key back. He could have just walked right in. Akaashi appreciated that he didn’t.

Bokuto smiled at him when he opened the door. He was wearing a big winter coat and a knit hat over his spiky hair. Akaashi was shocked again at how large he was. It had caught him off guard in Sendai how different he looked when he walked out onto the court. Even compared to the other players, Bokuto’s muscles were enormous. When they’d stood next to each other at the bar, Akaashi had felt like a 12-year-old. It was remarkable what a year could do when one person had a team of personal trainers and the other spent his days eating plain spinach out of the box.

“Hey Koutarou,” Akaashi said as he closed the door.

“Hi,” Bokuto smiled as he hung up his coat and hat.

That smile still made Akaashi feel things. Except now those things weren’t love and joy, but guilt and dread. “How are you?” he asked.

“Good! How are you?”

“Fine.”

“Thanks for saying we could hang out,” Bokuto said as he walked towards the kitchen.

“Yeah. Sure.” Akaashi was still hovering in the doorway. He had thought the familiar setting would be a good choice. At least they were comfortable here. It had been their home once after all. But as Bokuto began to look through his refrigerator, he started to think it was maybe too comfortable. “How long are you in town?” He asked.

“Just a few days. Got a game in Nagoya on the 27th.”

“That’s rough.”

“It’s not bad. I’m used to it.” Bokuto pulled out a Tupperware containing Akaashi’s remaining dinner out of the fridge and popped the lid open. Akaashi tried not to make a face. It was leftover Milanese style polenta and pot roast that Kousuke had made for him.

“You have like no food in here,” Bokuto commented. “Are you eating enough? You look skinny.”

Akaashi sighed. Why is he commenting on my body…? He had actually gained a little weight since he started dating Kousuke and was feeling pretty proud of himself. “I’m always skinny. Maybe you’re thinking that because you’re huge now.”

“I hope that’s a compliment,” Bokuto laughed. “Hey, this is really good! What is it? Did you make this?”

“Um,” Akaashi flushed. “No, I didn’t. It’s polenta. It’s made from corn.”

“Oh. Cool.” Bokuto kept eating.

“Sorry,” Akaashi said softly, before Bokuto could ask where he got it from. “I should have gotten something ready. I don’t know why I assumed you’d already eaten.”

“Oh shit!” Bokuto put the food down as if suddenly realizing how weird it was that he’d just walked in and started eating out of the fridge. “No, don’t worry about it. I did eat. This was just habit, I guess.”

Akaashi laughed a little, and Bokuto looked relieved. “Habit,” Akaashi repeated. “Right. It’s ok, eat whatever you want.”

Well, Koutarou was certainly still Koutarou. And Akaashi didn’t seem to be back under any spells yet. Feeling a little more relaxed, he sat down on the sofa. Bokuto microwaved Kousuke’s food and joined him.

Bokuto was smiling. He was here, and they were hanging out. And they weren’t fighting. Akaashi looked adorable in a dark, cable knit sweater and gray jeans, and Bokuto wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss him so badly he could barely listen to what he was saying. Despite everything, he might have gone ahead and kissed him anyway if he hadn’t known he had a boyfriend.

He has a boyfriend… the thought took the smile off his face. He’d shown up here with no plan. All he knew was that he didn’t want Akaashi to be with anyone else. And the part of his brain that was stupid and insane thought that maybe if he got him alone he could somehow stop him from having a boyfriend. The part of his brain that wasn’t stupid knew that this was ridiculous, possessive behavior. He wasn’t sure yet which part would win out.

He made it about 30 minutes before he broke. “By the way, um, I heard you’re dating someone.”

Akaashi chewed the inside of his cheek and pulled his knees into his chest. Bokuto let himself think about how cute it was.

“Yeah, I know,” Akaashi said. “Noya told me.”

Damn it Noya… “Oh. What did he say?”

“He said you found Kousuke’s Instagram.”

“Yeah…I did.” Bokuto hadn’t been prepared for how much it hurt to hear Akaashi say the other man’s name out loud. “By accident,” he added. “I wasn’t, like, trying to stalk you or anything.”

Akaashi nodded. “Ok. Well, yeah, I am.”

Bokuto nodded slowly. “Ok,” he said in a small voice.

Akaashi let out a long, slow sigh. “Is that why you actually came to see me?”

Bokuto couldn’t get the logical part of his brain to work anymore, and he couldn’t think clearly enough to come up with any excuses, so he just said, “Yes.”

Akaashi put down the mug of tea he’d been holding. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his palms before putting them back on. “Kou,” he shrugged. He sounded frustrated. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

“I don’t know.”

“We’ve been broken up for a year.”

“I know that!”

“We’re barely even friends!”

“I know!”

“So what do you want from me??”

“I just want you!” Bokuto exclaimed, surprised by the intensity in his own voice. “I want you, ok? I miss you, Keiji!” He started to move closer and reached out a hand to touch him. “I miss you, and I love you, and when I saw you had a boyfriend I—”

“Stop! Just stop!” Akaashi got up off the sofa and walked around the living room. He turned to face Bokuto and threw his arms up. “What are you doing?!? Koutarou what the fuck?!? You can’t just come here and start saying that!”

“Keiji, please, ok?” Bokuto stood up too. “I can’t do this anymore! It’s killing me. I—”

“You can’t do this anymore??” Akaashi shouted. “What do you mean you can’t do this?? You don’t have to do anything!” His eyes were huge, and his normally soft voice was starting to lose control. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now! I mean, what did you think would happen?? Did you actually think you could come here and say that, and I’d just be like ‘Yeah sure! Forget everything that’s happened! Let’s go around again!’”

“I don’t KNOW!” Bokuto shouted back. “I don’t know! I just didn’t know what else to do!”

“NOTHING!!! You do nothing!” Akaashi’s voice was frantic now. ”You don’t get to say anything to me about this, Koutarou! I don’t belong to you anymore!”

“How could you hide it from me?” Bokuto said, quieter now.

“What?”

“How could you hide it from me? We talked a month ago, and you didn’t say anything! Then I find out you told all our friends and made them hide it from me too. That is so fucked up.”

“I hid it because of this!” Akaashi shouted. “Because of how you react and how you are! Because I didn’t have the energy to deal with you anymore! Not when I’m happy. Not when I’m finally happy!”

“‘You don’t have the energy to deal with me’??? Keiji, what the FUCK, that is a messed-up thing to say!”

Akaashi exhaled and fisted his hands in his hair. “Ok fine. I’m sorry. That was mean. But look at us! Look at you! What is happening right now?!” He paused to breathe and took his glasses off again. He threw them on the sofa and put his fists to his eyes for a moment while he collected himself. “Do you know why I agreed to see you?” He said firmly. “Because I thought we needed to talk. Because Kousuke, my boyfriend, told me I should see you. To clear the air or get closure or whatever. Because the thought of seeing you still stresses me out, and he cares enough about me to try and fix that. And look at what you’re doing to me!”

“Do you love him?” Bokuto asked. “Wait. Shit, I shouldn’t have said that. Don’t answer.”

“Yes,” Akaashi stated, his voice calm. “Yes, I love him. I’m in love with him.”

Bokuto felt like he’d been punched in the chest. That had been the breaking point. “Fuck!” He cursed and turned around, wiping the tears that started to pool in his eyes.

“You don’t love me, Koutarou.”

“Keiji I do!” Bokuto spun back to look at him, and his heart broke again. “I love you. I love you so much! And I’m so sorry!” He ran to him and reached out, desperately grasping Akaashi’s beautiful hands, then his shoulders and his face as he said, “I think about you all the time. I wish I didn’t, but I just can’t get over you. No matter what I do, I still love you. I’m always gonna love you.” He ran his fingers through Akaashi’s hair and started to bring his face closer. “Keiji—”

“‘No matter what you do,’” Akaashi repeated. He wrenched himself out of Bokuto’s grasp before he could kiss him. Bokuto froze when he heard his voice start to break. “Do you think I don’t see what you do? You’re a fucking public figure, Koutarou! People take your picture when you’re out there on the street with the models and the actresses, and I have to see it! I have to see it constantly. And you’re angry at me for not telling you about Kousuke? At least I had the decency not to broadcast it!”

Bokuto blinked. A wave of horror and shame hit him in the gut. It hadn’t occurred to him at all. He’d had no idea that Akaashi knew anything about what his disastrous personal life looked like. He wanted to tell him it didn’t matter. That none of those people had meant anything to him. That he was just desperately trying to replace him and distract himself. But he knew that would be pointless. “I…I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t know!” Akaashi cried. “You never know because you don’t think. You don’t think about your actions and how they impact people. You just do. You say you think about me, but you don’t. You didn’t even consider that I might be happy. You didn’t think about how much it would suck to have to do this with you again. So please, Koutarou. I can’t be around you right now! I’m happy. He makes me happy. So please just leave me alone.”

Bokuto’s heart was in pieces. He was furious and devastated at the same time. He wanted to scream at Akaashi while he kissed him and held him close. He wanted to punch a hole in the wall while he curled up on the floor and wept.

He watched as tears leaked out of Akaashi’s deep blue eyes around thick lashes and ran down his thin face. His long fingers clenched at his sides and his knuckles white, strained from maintaining his composure. Bokuto hated how beautiful he still was. As he stared at him, he thought he saw the ground start to warp by his feet. Like the world was coming apart. “Keiji…”

“Koutarou please,” Akaashi said, his voice high but firm. “Please go.”

Bokuto wiped his face with his sleeve. He turned and grabbed his coat off the rack and opened the door. “I’m sorry,” he said one last time before closing it behind him.

When he was certain Bokuto was gone, Akaashi ran to Kousuke. He ran outside and cried on the street and on the train. Being around Bokuto was so hard. Until now, whenever he saw him, he remembered everything. All the reasons he loved him and all the times they’d been happy. Even while they screamed at each other. But tonight had been different. And the fear he’d felt before was replaced by a frightening but exhilarating sense of release. Tonight, for the first time, he knew for certain it was over. There was no going back. And he didn’t want to.

He ran up the stairs to Kousuke’s apartment and frantically knocked on the door. When it opened, he threw his arms around him before the door could close behind him.

“Keiji, whoa what happened?” Kousuke hugged him back.

Akaashi grabbed his face and kissed him, hard. “I love you,” he gasped as they broke apart. It was the first time he’d said it out loud, but when Bokuto had asked, there wasn’t a part of him that hesitated to answer.

“What?” Kousuke stared at him, his face a mixture of shock and concern.

“I said I love you.”

“I…I love you too. But are you ok?”

“I shouldn’t have seen him. It was stupid. I should have been with you.”

“Keiji…” Kousuke wiped a tear off Akaashi’s cheek. “What happened?”

Akaashi shook his head. He kissed him again. He kissed him harder and harder through his tears. “I love you…” he murmured. He pushed him backwards, his hands groping his body and trying to slide under his clothes.

“Keiji,” Kousuke pulled his lips free. “Hey hold on. Wait!”

Akaashi just kissed his neck instead. He pushed him towards the bedroom and started undoing his belt.

“Keiji stop. Baby.” When Akaashi didn’t relent, he grabbed his face and forced it up so they faced each other. “Keiji stop! I’m not gonna have sex with you while you’re crying. Now what happened?”

Akaashi’s frantic mind finally slowed, and he reached up to hold Kousuke’s hand where it rested on his cheek. “He said he’s still in love with me. He wanted me back. I got angry. We both yelled and cried. It was awful.”

“I’m sorry, Keiji…” Kousuke whispered. He rubbed his face with his thumb. “That’s—”

Akaashi fiercely shook his head. “No,” he interrupted. “No. It’s ok. It’s fine. Because I have you.” He meant it. He couldn’t even explain the tears anymore. It was just energy rushing through him and needing somewhere to escape. He thought he could just as easily start laughing. “I don’t need him in my life. I’m done. I know it for sure now. I have you. And I love you. I think I’ve loved you for months. I’m crying because I feel… I feel free.” Akaashi could hear the fervor in his voice. He felt he might truly start laughing. And he didn’t want to stop it. He felt a little out of his mind. “Kousuke… please.”

Kousuke stared back. His brown eyes were wide as he searched Akaashi’s face. Akaashi drove him a little out of his mind too. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. Completely. I love you. And I want you really bad right now.”

“Ok,” Kousuke whispered. “I love you too.”

When he kissed him, Akaashi felt something shift. The final lock on his heart broke, and he felt brave and strong. And when Kousuke went inside him, and their bodies rocked together, he thought they must be glowing bright enough to drive out all the darkness in his heart. He held him tight, and he let his voice cry out, finally letting everything go.

~

The next morning Akaashi woke up holding someone he loved. Kousuke kissed his face, and Akaashi smiled.

“Good morning,” Kousuke whispered. “Amore mio bellissimo.”

“What does that mean?” Akaashi whispered back.

“My beautiful love.”

“My love…” Akaashi repeated. He kissed him again and pulled his body down to cover him. “My love.”

When they got up, they celebrated Christmas. Kousuke made breakfast, and they exchanged gifts and saw no one but each other. Akaashi deleted Bokuto’s number.

Bokuto had gone to Kuroo’s apartment. When Kuroo let him in, he pushed passed him, grabbed a glass off his counter, went out to the fire escape, and threw it as hard as he could against the wall of the next building. He watched the shattered pieces fall into the empty alleyway below. He turned around and walked back inside. “I’ll buy you a new one,” he growled, taking a seat in Kuroo’s kitchen.

Kuroo just frowned at him. “What did you do?”

Bokuto didn’t say anything.

“You went to see Akaashi didn’t you?”

“Did you know?” He asked with a glare.

Kuroo sighed. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he was talking about. “Yeah. I knew.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You know why.”

“I feel so stupid!” Bokuto hit the table with his fist. “I mean what am I that my friends all decided they had to keep that from me? Why is everyone on his side?! Do I still seem that fragile?!”

“In our defense, you just broke one of my glasses.”

Bokuto buried his head in his arms. He’d never hated himself more than in this moment. “I’m sorry.”

Kuroo pursed his lips and grabbed a bottle of whiskey out of the cabinets. He poured two glasses and set one in front of Bokuto. “Koutarou, listen to me.” Bokuto looked up at that. Kuroo almost never used his first name. “First, there are no sides. You know that. Second, a year ago you told me you were glad you broke up. You said it was for the best. That you guys didn’t work anymore. Six months ago you said you were gonna let go. Remember that?”

Bokuto nodded.

“So why are you acting like this?”

Bokuto whispered, “Because I still love him.”

Kuroo nodded sadly. “You should drink that.” He pointed at the glass of whiskey. “Because I’m about to give you some tough love.”

Bokuto picked up the glass and drank.

“If you love him,” Kuroo said, “you gotta leave him alone. I mean it. You’re just hurting him now. He’s happy, and he moved on. You need to let him.”

Bokuto started to cry again. It was just like Akaashi had said. Maybe he didn’t actually think about him. He’d only been thinking about what he wanted, regardless of anyone else’s happiness.

He wanted another drink. He poured it himself and drank it down, savoring the burn in his throat. “I know,” he said. “It just hurts so much. When does it start to hurt less?”

“I don’t know. I wish I could tell you.”

Bokuto broke, and the tears started to stream. As he cried, he understood what misery was. He cried for Keiji and for his own stupidity and broken heart. Kuroo rubbed his shoulder, and he cried some more.

~

The next morning he went back to his parents’ apartment. He celebrated Christmas. He played with his nephew and held his baby niece. He deleted Akaashi’s number.

Chapter Text

Two weeks later Bokuto got a package in the mail. It contained his winter hat and a note scribbled on a scrap of paper.

You left this. Happy New Year. —Keiji

Bokuto felt a thrill run through him. Akaashi couldn’t completely hate him if he went through the trouble of sending this, right?

He ran his fingers over the words. Akaashi’s writing was small and deliberate. Bokuto remembered him complaining that professors always assumed it was a girl’s handwriting.

He pressed the hat to his face. It was his favorite one, and he had thought he lost it. He was happy to have it back, but he also knew it would always be bittersweet now. He wouldn’t be able to wear it without thinking about Akaashi. Although that seemed to apply to most of his things.

Without thinking he pulled out his phone and started to dial. Deleting Akaashi’s number had been more symbolic than anything. He’d had it memorized since he was 18. But before he hit call, he remembered Akaashi’s final words to him. Koutarou, please just leave me alone.

The rush of misery came back. That had been devastating to hear. He tossed the hat on the sofa and turned the paper over in his fingers, trying to decide what to do with it.

He ended up tossing it on his nightstand, pretending he’d deal with it later but knowing full well it would sit there for months until the next time he knocked something over and was forced to clean.

He went back out to the living room to eat dinner which he did while curled up on the sofa. As he ate, he found himself thinking about the worst fight he and Akaashi had ever had.

Two and a half years ago.

It had been a few months into Bokuto’s final year of college. Akaashi had come home one Saturday and murmured, “hey,” before walking straight to their room.

Bokuto got up off his seat in the kitchen and followed him. “Hey! You ok?”

“Yeah I’m good,” Akaashi said. He was looking at himself in the mirror but turned away when Bokuto walked in.

“Keiji?”

“Kouta,” Akaashi said calmly with his back turned. “I did something. Don’t freak out.”

“Okay…?”

Akaashi slowly turned around and crossed his arms tightly around his waist. He looked at Bokuto with his face set into hard lines.

Bokuto frowned. “Whoa… what’s with your eyes?”

Akaashi’s eyes looked red and puffy, and a thick black line ran across his lashes.

“It’s permanent makeup,” he said. “It’s swollen right now so it won’t always look like this. It’ll go down over the next few days.”

“Permanent makeup…” Bokuto repeated. “What does that mean?”

“It’s called microblading. It’s basically a tattoo. But eyeliner.”

“Oh.” Bokuto’s eyes widened as that set in. “Oh my god! You tattooed your eyelids??”

“Kind of.”

“Keiji… when??”

“An hour ago.”

“Wh— what? Why?”

“I wanted to.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know.” Akaashi shrugged. He was barely meeting Bokuto’s eyes. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it, but I knew I wanted to, so I just decided to go for it.”

“I…” Bokuto was speechless. “Ok.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I guess. You could have told me.”

“Are you ok with it? I thought you’d probably tell me not to.”

“I mean…” Bokuto hesitated. “I do like your untattooed eyelids.”

Akaashi nodded. “Right. Well. This was something I’ve been thinking about for a long time and, well, today I just decided to do it. Sorry.”

Bokuto was having trouble keeping up. Akaashi didn’t “just decide” to do anything. He must have been planning this for several weeks at minimum. “Did… did someone else go with you at least?”

“Midori. She had hers done at the same place last year, so she took me. She dropped me off just now cause she knew I’d have to tell you.”

“Oh… Ok.” Now he was a little irked at Midori too.

“Are you angry?” Akaashi asked.

“Would it make a difference to you if I was?”

“I mean, I want you to be ok with it.”

“Even though you would have done it anyway.”

“Yes,” Akaashi admitted.

“Ok well, yeah, I guess it’s fine. As long as it’s safe.”

“It is. Lots of people do it.”

Bokuto nodded. “Really? Ok. If you’re sure.”

Akaashi relaxed a little and flashed a half smile for a second. “Good. Thanks. Sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Yeah. It’s ok.”

It wasn’t. But Bokuto didn’t have his thoughts fully formed yet, so he let it go.

Akaashi walked up to him and kissed him. “I love you,” he said quietly, and he let his fingers trail along Bokuto’s chest.

Bokuto looked at his eyes. They looked pretty normal. Like when he put normal eyeliner on, just redder. And Akaashi had said it would go down. He exhaled and put his hands on Akaashi’s body too, instantly relaxing as soon as they touched. Touching Akaashi made everything better. “I love you too.”

Over the next few days, they didn’t talk about it much. Midori went back to the States before Bokuto had a chance to talk to her. Akaashi cleaned his eyelids meticulously every morning, and everything else felt normal. But Bokuto found himself making random comments throughout the day that gave away his residual annoyance. “Don’t worry I won’t be mad if you tell me what you planned for dinner.” “Just letting you know I’m buying new kneepads. Unless you’d rather I didn’t tell you.”

Akaashi ignored them. Until one day a week later when they were coming back from grocery shopping. As they reached the top of the stairs Bokuto said, “My stipend should post tomorrow so you can just add this to my rent share for the month. Unless you have a secret bank account I don’t know about.”

Akaashi let out a long, tempered exhale before shoving the door open and kicking his shoes off. He walked to the kitchen and started putting things away. Bokuto followed him and opened the fridge to start unloading cold items.

“You know what Koutarou?” Akaashi suddenly turned around and faced him glaring. “Maybe instead of whining about how I didn’t tell you, you should think about why I didn’t tell you.”

Bokuto roughly threw a packet of udon noodles at the back of the fridge and closed the door. “Keiji, you permanently altered your body and purposefully didn’t talk to me about it. I think I have a right to be upset by that.”

“For the love of god, Kou, it’s not permanently altered! It’s like an eyebrow tint! I don’t fucking tell you every time I do that.”

“This is way more than an eyebrow tint. And you clearly knew that based on how you told me.”

“Well you already make fun of me for tinting my eyebrows, so I had a pretty good reason to do this alone.”

“I don’t care if you tint your eyebrows! What the fuck, when have I made fun of you for that??”

Akaashi rolled his eyes and finished putting the groceries away. “I can tell how you feel about it. And I know you don’t like this either. But it’s my body, and I didn’t want to be made to feel bad about it by you.”

“Keiji I think you’re projecting.”

“Projecting what? If I’d asked, it would have turned into a whole thing, and you would have tried to convince me not to. You don’t understand stuff that you wouldn’t do yourself, and you get all hurt when I disagree with you.” Akaashi walked into the living room.

“Ok whoa!” Bokuto followed him, his temper rising. “What’s that mean?”

What happened next was a blur. Bokuto and Akaashi rarely fought, but somehow the eyeliner served as a crack in the dam that exploded into everything they’d been holding against each other for the last four years.

“I’m fucking tired Koutarou! I’m tired of doing everything for you! When was the last time you even paid a rent check? Every month I just take the money out of your account! Would you even know how to do it without me?!”

“You never asked me to! I’m not an idiot, I think I could do it if you gave me a chance!”

“You never said you wanted a chance! You can’t even ask to help on your own! Are you seriously trying to defend yourself by saying I have to remind you to ask me to teach you how to help me? That’s fucking stupid!”

“Keiji shut up! That is not what I meant, and you know it! You’re not fucking better than everyone just because you do laundry more than me!”

They started going off about things they hadn’t even realized they were angry about. Things they had always said were fine. Words they never thought they could say to each other were suddenly flying out of their mouths.

“You are so controlling! I can’t do shit without you looking at me like I’m stupid. You’re mad at me for not having opinions, but every time I have one you shut it down anyway. You’re fucking suffocating, Keiji!”

“I’m suffocating??? How the fuck am I suffocating when all you do is go out and play your games and go to your parties like you’re the fucking center of the universe while I spend every day here taking care of things you don’t even know about?! You know you’d be fucking lost without me, right!”

The argument went into a million incoherent directions. The words grew sharper and the attacks cut deeper. Bokuto was shouting and Akaashi was seething, even if his voice stayed calm.

“Can you stop yelling?”

“No Keiji! No, I can’t stop yelling! I’m angry! People fucking yell when they’re angry!!”

“Well I’m pretty fucking angry right now too and I’m not yelling. Because I actually have some semblance of self-control.”

“No, because you’re a fucking psycho Keiji!!!”

An hour later Bokuto was exhausted. This took more emotional energy than he had. And arguing with Akaashi was an impossible task. He was too smart and fought too dirty and could make you question everything you knew.

“You can’t see anything that isn’t 6 feet in front of you. You turn into some pouty brat until I apologize and bend over backwards to make you feel better even if I did nothing wrong—“

“Keiji STOP!” Bokuto grabbed a coaster and flung it at the wall, hard enough to leave a dent. “You wanna talk? You’re a self-righteous asshole who’s so fucking sad all the time that you argue about everything just to pretend you’re smart! How do you hate yourself and still have a god-complex at the same time? Why do you think you don’t fucking have any friends?!”

Akaashi’s eyes were pits of ice. He glared, and Bokuto felt like he was looking at a stranger.

“Grow up Koutarou. Nothing you’re saying makes any sense. You’re just flinging words out because you don’t know how to make an actual argument. You’re not even worth fighting with right now.”

Bokuto steeled his own face. “I feel like you actually hate me. Like why the fuck are you even with me if your opinion of me is that low?”

“Why the fuck are you with me if I make your life so miserable?”

“I don’t know anymore.”

“Me neither.”

After a few moments of heavy silence, Bokuto turned towards the front door. “You know what, fuck this, I’m leaving!”

“Whatever.” Akaashi grabbed his laptop off the end table and opened it to his readings for class. He didn’t look up again.

Bokuto grabbed his keys and slammed the door behind him.

He went to Kuroo’s apartment for a few hours to cool off. He didn’t tell him any specifics, just that they got into a fight and he had to get out of there. Kuroo didn’t ask questions. He just did work on his computer while Bokuto glared at the wall with his arms crossed tightly across his chest.

When he went back to the apartment late that evening, the lights were off, and he sighed in relief. He wondered if Akaashi had gone somewhere too. Maybe it would be best if he had. Bokuto had no idea what to say and wasn’t sure how he could just go to sleep in the same bed as him. Maybe they needed more time before they had to see each other again.

As he was taking his shoes off, he heard the door to Noya’s room open. Bokuto’s heart stopped. He hadn’t even considered that their roommate might have been home. If he had…

“Hey,” Noya said.

Bokuto turned to look at him as he walked towards the living room. “Have you been home all day?”

Noya nodded.

“Fuck,” Bokuto groaned and collapsed on the sofa. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well, I thought it would end!” Noya exclaimed. “And then it didn’t. But by then it would have been even more awkward if I just popped out, like, during. Also I wasn’t gonna get in the middle of that.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Noya sat down on the sofa next to Bokuto. He turned his whole, compact body to face him and pulled one leg into his chest. “So, do I still have roommates?”

Bokuto rubbed his face. “God. Yeah. I think so.”

“You gonna go talk to him now?”

“I guess. He’s here?”

Noya nodded. “Do you want me to leave? I can go to the townhouse.” He asked without any judgment, and Bokuto felt a rush of shame.

“No. It’s ok. It won’t happen again.”

Bokuto leaned his head back against the back of the sofa and rolled it to look at his friend. His sharp brown eyes stared back. It was unusual to see him this serious. Normally Noya was the loudest in the room. Normally they both were. Normally when they were sitting on this sofa at night it was because they’d just thrown a party and were laughing and whooping and fucking around before going to sleep.

If Akaashi wasn’t there, it was because he’d locked himself in their room or gone to Yachi’s apartment to escape the chaos. Bokuto realized he hadn’t thought anything of it. Now he felt terrible.

“I’m really sorry, man,” he said quietly to Noya. “I don’t even know what to say. I don’t know what happened. It feels like such a haze.”

“Yeah… that was weird for both of you. Are you ok?”

Bokuto let out a weak laugh. “No. I’m not. I mean, come on, you were there.”

Noya nodded. “I, um, I did talk to Keiji. After you left.”

Bokuto raised his eyebrows. “What did he say?”

“Um,” Noya reached up and pulled the blonde streak of his bangs down over his forehead. He did that when he was nervous. “I think you should probably just go talk to him. He’s just as shocked as you that it happened. And he feels bad.”

Bokuto nodded. “Ok. Here goes.”

“Good luck,” Noya said before standing and walking back towards his room.

Before he could go, Bokuto called, “Noya wait!” He ran after him and hugged him from behind. He wasn’t sure why, but he just needed to feel someone. He was terrified, and physical contact was always reassuring for him.

Noya turned around and hugged him back. Their nearly one-foot height difference meant Bokuto’s chin could rest on his head. Bokuto held him close. “Thank you. For talking. And putting up with us.”

“Yeah. You guys will be ok,” Noya said into his chest.

When Bokuto finally opened the door to their room, he saw Akaashi sitting at his desk with his headphones on. He had one knee tucked under his chin and was twirling a pencil around in his long, nimble fingers with a notebook open in front of him. When he heard Bokuto enter, he quickly closed the book and pulled his headphones down around his neck.

“Hi,” Bokuto said.

“Hey.”

Bokuto sat down on the bed, and Akaashi put his headphones away before turning in his chair to face him. For nearly a minute they sat in silence. Bokuto wanted to cry. Keiji looked like Keiji again. Only sadder and even more tired. And so beautiful it ached. He was so beautiful it was impossible to blame him for anything.

“Keiji,” he said softly. “That scared me.”

“It scared me too.”

“I don’t know what happened.”

“Me neither.”

“What do we do?”

Akaashi sighed. “I guess try and talk it out.”

“I don’t know where to start. I don’t even remember what we were fighting about.”

“Permanent eyeliner,” Akaashi murmured.

Bokuto looked at him sadly. “It wasn’t about the eyeliner.”

“I know. It was about the why of the eyeliner. Which was somehow everything.”

“Yeah.”

“Look Kou,” Akaashi pulled a second knee into his chest and bent his head. “I know I have… problems. I can be really mean. And closed off and controlling. Everything you said about me was right. But, I think, maybe, so was everything I said about you. The problem is we shouldn’t think that stuff about each other.”

“It wasn’t right,” Bokuto insisted. “We were both blowing things way out of proportion.”

“If something can be blown up, it means at least a bit of it really is true. You can’t make a mountain out of a molehill if there’s no molehill to begin with. And just because something isn’t a mountain doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.”

Bokuto sighed. “It’s things like that Keiji. You kinda talk in a way that makes other people feel stupid. Even if you don’t mean to. Like, I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Fuck. I know. Sorry.” Akaashi sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“I feel really bad,” Bokuto said slowly. “That you didn’t think you could even tell me about the eyeliner. It scares me a little. I don’t want to give you the impression that you can’t tell me things. I may not understand it, but I’d never try and control you. It shouldn’t matter what I think if you wanna tattoo your eyelids. Or your eyebrows. If I’ve said things that make you think it upsets me, you have to tell me.”

“Ok. I’ll try,” Akaashi agreed. “I’m sorry. I think I’m still just used to doing everything alone. I’m stubborn and too independent. And I’m sorry for blowing up about chores and shit. I think I’ve just been building resentment for so long that it all came out in a rush like that.”

“No, you’re right. I rely on you too much. And I don’t thank you enough. But I do see it. And I’ll try and be more proactive. And responsible.”

Akaashi nodded. “Thanks Kouta.”

There were silent for a while again. There was so much more to get through. But how do you work through an hour of screams and insults and accusations said in the heat of the moment?

“I’m kind of tired,” Akaashi said softly. “Can we just say we’ll try and be better? And communicate more?”

Bokuto nodded. He didn’t know what to say either. So many of the arguments felt like things that couldn’t really be resolved through talking. “Yeah. Ok.”

Akaashi stood up and walked over to Bokuto. He put his arms around his neck and stepped between his legs.

Bokuto melted into him with a sigh and pulled him closer, resting his head against his chest and finding his heartbeat. He rubbed his hands over the outline of his ribs on his sides. “I’m so sorry sweetheart. I love you. I love you so much.”

“I’m sorry too, Kouta. I love you.” Akaashi took Bokuto’s face in his hands and bent down to kiss him. The kiss felt like life being breathed back into his body. Bokuto could feel its warmth rushing through him from his lips to the tips of his fingers and toes.

He squeezed Akaashi’s body tighter and lifted him into his lap. Akaashi knelt on the bed with his knees on either side of Bokuto’s hips. He kissed him deeper, his tongue slipping into his mouth.

Bokuto moaned. “Mmm I love you. I love you.” He kissed him harder and deeper and faster, suddenly desperate. “Fuck, I love you,” he groaned and pulled Akaashi’s sweater off over his head and pressed his lips against his smooth, bony chest.

Akaashi let his head roll back, but his hips rocked forward. Bokuto felt his hardness rub against his own and used one arm to flip them over, and he settled between Akaashi’s legs. He got up on his knees to take off his shirt while Akaashi’s hands undid his belt.

Bokuto kicked off his pants and threw himself down on top of Akaashi, kissing him frantically, his hands roughly grasping his face and neck. Akaashi shoved his hands between them to take his own pants off, and Bokuto helped tear them away. His kissed his way down Akaashi’s body, and when he got to his stomach, he pushed his thighs up and took Akaashi’s dick in his mouth.

“Kouta!” Akaashi panted. “Fuck! Oh god!”

Bokuto moaned into him and dug his fingers into his hips. He swirled his tongue around in the way he knew Akaashi liked and bobbed his head up and down. He hadn’t felt this type of desperation in a long time. He needed him. He needed him badly. He wanted to make him scream his name and feel him so deeply they might never separate again. He didn’t care that Noya was next door. He’d already heard them fight, he could hear them fuck too.

Akaashi seemed to feel the same way. He was already reaching over to grab lube out of the nightstand. Bokuto pulled his mouth away with a pop and took the bottle from him.

When his fingers were wetted, he moved to sit on the side of the bed and pulled Akaashi back into his lap. Akaashi took Bokuto’s cock in his hands and stroked him as Bokuto reached around to press his wet fingers inside Akaashi’s hole. Akaashi groaned and put his other hand on Bokuto’s shoulder to steady himself as he ground deeper against his palm.

“Keiji, you’re so fucking sexy,” Bokuto moaned into his chest. He worked his fingers quickly, rubbing the best spots inside him to open him up.

“I love you,” Akaashi whispered. His mouth was pressed into Bokuto’s head, and he kissed him to stifle his cries and gasps. His hands tore into Bokuto’s hair, holding his face and gripping the back of his neck.

Bokuto moaned too. He loved when Akaashi pulled his hair. He did it when he felt desperate for him. Soon Bokuto couldn’t wait anymore. He pulled his fingers out and reached towards the nightstand for a condom.

“Just leave it,” Akaashi shuddered, his lips by Bokuto’s ear and a hand pushing back on his chest.

“You sure?”

Akaashi nodded. “Just fuck me.”

Bokuto met his eyes, and his breath stopped. He surged forward and kissed his lips for a few passionate moments, roughly rubbing his hands down Akaashi’s spine and chest. He brought his hand to Akaashi’s hips and lifted him up. Akaashi grabbed Bokuto’s cock to coat it in lube and brought the tip to his entrance.

Their arms came around each other as Bokuto slid inside. Akaashi started to move up and down, slowly and then faster. Bokuto savored every sound that came out of his mouth, tilting his chin up to kiss him and letting the vibrations rush down his body.

Akaashi kept his hands locked in Bokuto’s hair as he rode him, holding onto the gray locks as he threw his head back. “Kouta,” he moaned. “God, fuck, ahhh!”

Bokuto kissed his shoulders and the hollow of his collarbone. He listened to Akaashi’s pants and moans and felt the sweat on his back and the softness of his thick hair and the wet warmth where they were joined. “Keiji… Keiji… you feel so good…” He tried to grip the floor with his feet and meet Akaashi’s movements with his thrusts. He knew he hit a deeper spot when Akaashi cried out his name.

“Yes! Like that, like that! Right there!” His grip tightened in Bokuto’s hair, and he brought their mouths together again. He whimpered in desperation as he tried forcing his skinny thighs to slam him down even harder.

Bokuto wanted nothing more than to keep going, to feel Akaashi cum in the space between their chests, but he could feel himself getting close, so he picked Akaashi up again, turned, and laid him down on his back. He pulled out of him and hovered over him. Akaashi looked at him in surprise, and Bokuto’s heart clenched. Akaashi’s hips trembled, and his eyes flooded with frustration. He reached for Bokuto’s cock and tried to rejoin them, but Bokuto moved his hand away.

“I’m sorry baby,” Bokuto explained. “I know you liked that. But it feels too good. I need to slow down.” He pressed desperate kisses to his neck and slipped his hand between them. “Just let me touch you.”

Akaashi clung to his body as Bokuto stroked him. He put his hands on his back and dug his fingers into the thick muscles at his waist. moaning and arching up into him until their chests met.

Bokuto left tender love bites across his shoulders and ran his thumb along the sensitive underside and slit of his cock. He whispered to him, “You can be as loud as you want. I wanna hear how good you feel.”

Akaashi obliged and let out a long moan as his hands returned to Bokuto’s hair. He tightened his grip on the back of his neck until Bokuto moaned too. Then he spread his legs wide and thrusted into Bokuto’s hips.

“Kou,” he begged. “Please.”

Bokuto couldn’t say no, and he fucked him again. They made it last as long as they could. With every touch painting over the words they had said.

Later they lay together, Akaashi in Bokuto’s arms with his head on his chest.

“That was amazing,” Bokuto murmured.

“Yeah it was.” Akaashi kissed his throat.

“I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you too.”

Bokuto wrapped his arms tighter around him and rolled them over. He nuzzled his face into Akaashi’s neck before resting his cheek on his chest. He wanted to feel Akaashi holding him. He wanted his fingers gently stroking his hair. He wanted to feel loved.

Akaashi pressed a kiss to his head and put his arms around him. Bokuto closed his eyes. He thought he could stay there forever. In that moment, he told himself it wouldn’t matter if they fought like that every day. He’d still stay if it meant he got to end his nights like this. It was heaven to be held in Akaashi’s arms.

Present

Present day Bokuto remembered that day as he sat alone. With perspective, he knew that they had never fully recovered from that fight. They never fought that violently again — all future arguments were more contained — but it had left a wound that they were never able to heal. It revealed the cracks and flaws in their relationship, and neither had been willing to address them. So they argued about little things and made up with their bodies but never their words. Distance grew between their hearts. And while Bokuto chose to bury himself further and deeper into denial, Akaashi had chosen to leave.

Bokuto wondered if Akaashi now felt that heaven was in Kousuke’s arms. If he’d found in someone else what Bokuto had found in him. If Bokuto had mistaken what they had for what Akaashi had now. Something real without a fractured cornerstone, never to be repaired.

He wondered what type of man Akaashi’s new love was. What he had that Bokuto didn’t that made Akaashi love him more. Would they ever fight the way they had? Would he take care of him and keep him warm? Would he tell him that he loved him as often as Bokuto had? Was it even possible for there to be someone else out there who loved him as much?

Bokuto realized with a gasp that he didn’t just miss Akaashi loving him. He missed being able to love someone. He missed having a person around that he adored and worshiped. A person he could do things for and shower with affection and beautiful words. He wanted someone to pick up presents for on the way home. A person to wrap his own arms around. To make warm and feel safe. He had so much love inside him with no one to put it on. He wanted someone to love again.

Chapter Text

At the end of the month. Bokuto came home to a stack of papers slid under his door. He picked it up and saw that it was his lease renewal, reminding him his lease expired at the beginning of March, and he had to decide whether he’d stay or go.

He looked around the apartment. It was small but nice. He’d only lived there for a year, and it was just a few minutes’ walk away from his practice gym. Akaashi had chosen it for him, and it was everything he needed. But for that same reason it was tainted now.

Bokuto walked to his bedroom and sat down with the lease renewal in hand, flipping through the pages without actually reading anything. He knew the easiest and most practical thing would be to stay where he was. He had no reason at all to move other than a broken heart, and even Bokuto realized that wasn’t the best thing to make such a big decision off of.

He was distracted by his phone ringing and dropped the papers on his bed. He pulled his phone from his pocket and saw it was his older sister Ayumi who lived nearby.

“Hey Nee-chan,” he answered.

“Hi Kou-chan! Sorry to bother you, but I have a huge last-minute favor to ask.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Do you think you could watch Rio tomorrow evening? I’m supposed to get dinner with friends, but Hiroshi got called to work.” Rio was Bokuto’s two-year-old nephew.

“Maybe. What time?”

“Just from 5-9 or so.”

“Ok. Yeah I can do that. I’ll have to come right from practice though.”

“That’d be great!” Ayumi sounded relieved. “Thanks Kou.”

“No problem.” Bokuto was a little nervous. He’d never been solely responsible for watching Rio before. Usually he just played with him until something went wrong and he could give him back to his parents. But spending time with the toddler always brought him joy, so he decided to do it anyway.

He tossed the lease renewal on his nightstand, where Akaashi’s note still sat.

~

The next day he showered at the gym after practice and quickly headed over to his sister’s apartment.

“Uncle Kou! Uncle Kou!” As soon as she answered the door, Rio ran towards him.

“Rio-kun!” Bokuto reached down and swept him up onto his shoulder. The little boy squealed with laughter. He loved being so tall. “How’s it going buddy?”

“Great!”

“Thank you so much Kou!” Ayumi hugged him. “I can take the baby with me, but Rio would hate it, and he can’t just stay in the carseat anymore and…”

“Dude don’t worry about it we’re chillin’!” Bokuto swung Rio back down and tucked him under his arm. The boy laughed hysterically as he was held upside down.

“Still thank you!” Ayumi said. “I know you’re so busy. Call if you need anything, ok, I’ll be right back. The restaurant isn’t far!”

“Yeah yeah, sounds good. We got this.” Bokuto set Rio on the ground and waved at his sister to get going. “Go have fun! Rio say bye to Mama!”

“Bye bye!” Rio waved.

Ayumi kissed him goodbye, picked up the baby’s carriage, and ran out the door. Bokuto turned around and smiled. He crouched down and pretended to jump forward. Rio shouted and started to run while Bokuto chased him around the house.

Bokuto loved his nephew. From the day he was born, he’d been completely obsessed with this child. He could play with him for hours and not get tired. And Rio adored his uncle too. He was endlessly entertaining and never upset. He always had games to play, made funny faces, sang stupid songs, and read his books with the best acting. Ayumi used to joke that Uncle Koutarou was his favorite toy as a baby.

Rio had eaten dinner before Bokuto got there, so he just had to keep him entertained for two hours until his bedtime at 7. Bokuto used his bottomless energy to dance and play tag and make the same jokes over and over until Rio was so tired out that putting him to bed was no problem at all.

Bokuto sat next to him and read his going to bed books in as soft a voice as he could until the little boy dozed off. Bokuto stroked his hair and gently kissed his head before getting up to turn off the light.

He went back out to the living room to wait for his sister to get home. He found himself scrolling through apartments on his phone. His budget was much bigger than it had been a year ago. When he and Akaashi had picked out his current place, they’d been frugal since Bokuto had just been signed as a rookie to MSBY, and Akaashi was still paying for the Tokyo apartment. With how well he’d done this season and all the sponsorships that had come in, Bokuto was in a much more comfortable position now to look for a new place.

Getting used to managing things on his own had been one of the unexpected challenges of suddenly being single. Akaashi had set up all the automatic payments for his rent and utilities, and Bokuto had had to change all the names and accounts for everything on his own while completely heartbroken. He couldn’t even ask Akaashi for help since they weren’t speaking. Any unavoidable communication had gone through poor Nishinoya.

As he looked at potential new homes, Bokuto started to think that maybe a fresh start was a good idea. A place that was completely his own, that had no connections to his old life, might be the right first step.

He was making a list of places to tour when Ayumi got back. Bokuto reported the smooth evening and how Rio had had fun playing and then gone right to sleep.

His sister put the baby into her crib and came to join him on the sofa.

“Thanks for doing this Kou. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course! I don’t mind at all.”

Ayumi leaned back and said with a sigh, “By the way, the basement flooded again. At home.”

Bokuto frowned. “At Mom and Dad’s, you mean?”

Ayumi nodded. “Yeah. A pipe burst. Took the laundry machines out, and I guess a bunch of stuff got ruined.”

Bokuto sighed. The Bokuto family lived in a small, run-down, old apartment in east Tokyo. The building that held his childhood home had to have a decent amount of structural damage at this point.

They’d lived a happy life despite being so poor, but over the years they’d dealt with many problems due to the low-income housing. Bokuto remembered being 10 years old and racing down the stairs and literally diving into the basement to try and get his bike out of the storage room as a typhoon poured in water up to his neck.

“They’ve gotta get out of there,” he said. “It’s not safe anymore.”

“I know. But they’re really attached to that place. They don’t seem to want to move.”

“Do they have the money to if they did?”

“I don’t know,” Ayumi said sadly. “They’ve lived there for so long they’re getting it way below the market price. If they move it might be hard for them to find something nicer without a huge increase.”

Bokuto thought back to the apartment he’d been scanning earlier that evening. Most of the options he’d been looking at for just himself were bigger than his parents’ current place. “What if I bought it?” He said.

Ayumi turned to look at him. “Kou…”

“I’m serious! Nee-chan I have money! A lot of it. I could buy them a house. Somewhere great!”

Ayumi smiled sadly at him. She sat up and leaned over to kiss his head. “Kou you are the kindest soul and the best son. But they’d never let you.”

“Why not?”

“No parent wants their child to have to do that for them. And Dad is proud, you know.”

“I want to though. They got me into volleyball and let me keep with it. I know that was expensive. If I can help them, I should.”

“I know, but you’ll have to think of another way.”

Bokuto sighed deeply and chewed the inside of his lip. “That building is gonna collapse. I’ll get them out somehow.”

“I can tell them to start looking,” Ayumi offered. “See how open they are.”

“Yeah. Thanks. I’ll talk to them too.”

Ayumi looked over at her little brother. His expression was unusually serious as he thought about their parents. Ayumi smiled and softly said, “In some ways you’re so grown up.”

“I’m 24,” Bokuto replied.

“Yeah. That’s crazy to me.”

“It’s crazy to me that Rio is two,” Bokuto said. He remembered so clearly when his nephew was born. He and Akaashi had gone to visit Ayumi a few weeks later to see the baby. He had a whole series of photos of a terrified Akaashi holding him for the first time. Ayumi had whispered, “Rio, this is your Uncle Keiji and Uncle Koutarou!” Everyone had been so sure they’d stay together.

“I know,” Ayumi smiled. “I’m glad you’re here Kou-chan. It’s really good for him.”

“I’m glad too.”

“But are you happy?”

Bokuto looked at his older sister, surprised. “Do I seem happy?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “It’s hard to tell. I mean you’re definitely… living. But I wonder how long you can keep this up. You used to be so happy-go-lucky and everything. Now you seem… pressured.”

After a long sigh Bokuto leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling. He could see why she thought that. Since going pro, his life, both personal and professional, had been a carousel that never stopped spinning. It was probably out of control. But for some reason he couldn’t imagine trying to get off. It still never felt like enough.

“I know it’s probably not sustainable long term,” he admitted choosing his words carefully. “But right now… I’m ok. Maybe this is just what 24 is.”

Ayumi laughed lightly. “Yeah maybe. We just worry about you, you know.”

“I know. Sorry if you’ve had to read about me doing anything too weird.”

“It’s ok Kou.”

They sat in silence for a minute. Then Bokuto winced and took a deep breath. “Keiji has a boyfriend.”

Ayumi looked up with a little inhale. “Really?”

Bokuto nodded.

“Are… are you ok?”

He laughed. “Not really. But I guess that’s fine. I mean…” He shrugged. “What do I have to complain about?”

Ayumi reached out to hug him and he rested his head on her shoulder.

“Really,” he continued. “Other than that, everything is great.”

His sister laughed out loud now. “Always so bright. You’re still Kou-chan.”

He pulled his head back up with a grin. “Someone has to be.”

“Listen Kou,” she said seriously. “Just take care of yourself, ok? You don’t have to worry about appearances, or mom and dad, or being perfect. Everyone just wants you to be happy. No matter how that looks.”

“Thanks Nee-chan.”

~

When Bokuto got home that night, he picked the lease renewal form up off the nightstand and flipped through it.

The new rent increase was still significantly cheaper than any of the places he’d been looking at, but he realized that didn’t matter to him now. He’d made it, just like he always knew he would. And after the year he’d had he deserved to live however he wanted.

He went to find a pen and then sat down on the floor by his bed. He hovered over the ‘not renewing’ line and worked up the courage to sign his name.

As he thought about it, he remembered Akaashi’s note still on his nightstand. He reached over and picked it up, staring and running his fingers over the words.

You left this. Happy New Year. —Keiji

Bokuto let out a long sigh and unconsciously brought the paper to his mouth. As it touched his lips, he squeezed his eyes shut. You can’t do this, he told himself. You have to let go.

With the note still pressed to his lips, he picked up the pen and signed the paper confirming he’d be moving. But when he stood up to bring the lease back to the living room to drop off tomorrow, he held Akaashi’s note in his hand; and when he went back to his room, he tucked it away in a box under his bed, with the few photos and letters he hadn’t yet been able to part from.

Chapter Text

At the end of March, Midori turned 23. She always said she was probably younger than believed. She told Akaashi that the reason she was half the size of the other kindergarteners was because her parents wanted her out of the house quicker, so they lied and gave her the latest possible birthday to qualify for the school year. Akaashi said she’d have a better case if she wasn’t still half the size of all her peers.

Regardless of the truth, Midori loved to host a good party. And the Japanese government believed she was born on March 31st, so on March 31st the Tokyo townhouse was filled to the brim with balloons and loud music and high society guests mixed with old friends from high school and college. The party was privately catered, and there were multiple open bars. Everywhere you looked there were beautiful faces and famous faces mixed in with the familiar ones. Extravagance was abundant. By the time Akaashi and Kousuke arrived, things had already gotten pretty wild.

Kousuke looked around in wonder after they dropped their coats off at the door. “Holy shit…”

“Yup,” Akaashi agreed. Normally he tried to show up to these parties early so he could actually hang out with Noya and Midori before anyone else arrived and things got crazy. But he’d had a work deadline earlier that evening and had been editing down to the last minute, so they weren’t able to get there till later.

“It’s not that I didn’t believe you when you said your best friend was Midori Mori,” Kousuke said. “I just didn’t fully comprehend what that meant.”

Akaashi sighed. “Yup. It means this.”

“Holy shit…” Kousuke said again.

They got past the crowd in the first room before spotting the birthday girl herself.

“KEIJIII!!!!!”

She started running towards him and leapt into his arms. She was wearing 8 inch heels and a tiny metallic pink skirt with a matching halter top. Her copious amount of thick silver hair was gathered on top of her head in two buns. She looked like a fairy.

Akaashi laughed and gently set her back down on the ground. “Hi. Happy birthday.”

“Kousukeeee!” She proceeded to jump into Kousuke’s arms too. He eyed Akaashi over her massive buns, brown eyes wide in shock. It was the first time they’d met in person.

“Hi! Nice to actually meet you!” He said brightly. “Happy birthday!”

“You too! Oh I’m so glad you guys are here!” She hugged Akaashi again.

“Thanks for having us!” Kousuke grinned. “You look amazing!”

“Thanks! There’s two pounds of silicone holding my tiddies up right now.”

“Oh…um…ok…”

“Midori…” Akaashi groaned.

“Get food! Get food!” She started pushing them towards the kitchen where an extravagant buffet table was waiting. “I’ve gotta say hi to people, but I’ll find you later! Thanks for coming!!”

“Holy shit,” Kousuke said again as she skipped away, somehow staying upright in the giant shoes. “That was Midori Mori.”

“Oh I know, bitch,” Akaashi said as he took his hand. “Come on let’s get food. Lots. It’s probably gonna be the most expensive meal you ever eat.”

Bokuto walked into the party with Hinata and Atsumu in tow. They got a similar hugging treatment from Midori when she spotted them. Bokuto aggressively swung her around, and one of her shoes almost took Atsumu out.

“You’re so tall!” Bokuto exclaimed. “You’re almost up to my shoulder!”

“I know! It’s amazing!” Midori kicked a heel up to show off her platforms. Atsumu just stared at her, still slightly starstruck. They’d met before at her concert, and he’d barely been able to speak. Bokuto had been worried he’d pass out. Luckily Hinata was there to speak excitedly to her. He’d known Midori even longer than Bokuto had. Speaking of which…

“SHOOOOUUUYOOOOOUUUUU!!!!” A voice boomed from nearby.

Bokuto looked up eagerly, his grin getting even bigger.

“NOYA-SAAAAAN!!!” Hinata ran from the group, and he and Noya leapt at each other. They met in midair and crashed to the floor in a heap.

“KOUTAROOOUUU!!!” Noya pointed a finger at him from under Hinata’s body. Bokuto grasped his hand and pulled him up and into a hug. He hadn’t seen him since the summer, and he lifted him straight up off the ground laughing aloud. He reached out and pulled Midori into the circle.

“Oh I missed you guyyyyys!!!!” He held his tiny friends tight.

“Ahem.” There was a cough behind them.

Bokuto turned and released them. “Oh sorry. Noya, you remember Miya Atsumu.”

“Do I ever,” Noya reached out to clap hands with him. “I hate this guy. How you been?”

Atsumu gave him a wicked grin. “I been good. And I’m still playing volleyball. So I win.”

“I’m married to this,” Noya pointed at Midori. “So I think I win a little more.”

“Wait you’re married??” Hinata gasped.

“Not legally,” Noya answered.

“Baby, I gotta go,” Midori kissed Noya on the cheek. “I’ll find you again later. You guys get food!” She waved as she disappeared back into the crowd.

Noya started to lead them deeper into the house. The group pushed past crowds of celebrities to get to the kitchen. Bokuto was tall enough to see over the crowd, and he almost laughed at how unrecognizable the townhouse was with so many strangers in it. Noya managed to get them to the food, but he froze in the doorway between rooms.

“Actually wait,” he said quickly. “Let’s get food later, there’s a big line.”

“But I’m hungry!” Hinata protested.

Bokuto kept walking, but Noya reached an arm across his chest before he could go further. “Kou.”

Bokuto looked up, and his mood instantly collapsed. Akaashi and Kousuke were chatting with Kenma and Kuroo as they ate by the bar. Bokuto’s whole body shuddered. It was the first time he’d seen Kousuke in person. Akaashi had a hand on his boyfriend’s lower back. And he was smiling. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry man,” Noya said.

Bokuto sighed. “It’s ok. I get it.” He turned back towards Hinata and Atsumu. “You guys go ahead. I’ll find you later. I wanna say hi to some people.”

His friends nodded and went to go eat. Bokuto turned and started walking towards a different room. Noya followed behind him. “Kou! Wait! I’m sorry, ok?”

“You on guard duty or something?” Bokuto asked, a little more harshly than he intended.

Noya frowned and crossed his arms. “Don’t say it like that. Midori wasn’t gonna just not invite one of you but…you know.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Don’t worry about it,” Bokuto sighed. And he meant it. He didn’t blame them. “I’m gonna get a drink.”

Akaashi and Kousuke took their full plates to a small corner of the kitchen counter where Kuroo and Kenma were standing. Kousuke had grabbed as much of the western food as he could find, anything that vaguely reminded him of home. Akaashi had filled his plate with onigiri and vegetable side dishes.

Kuroo was trying to push Kenma to go talk to people. Kenma looked about one second away from putting on his headphones. Akaashi smiled. Unlike him, Kenma truly hated parties, and was only here because Kuroo had forced him, probably with a promise of a new game at the end. Not that Kenma needed any help buying games these days. Other than Midori and Noya, he was by far the richest of their friend group. Most new releases were just sent to him as PR.

Kousuke and Kuroo immediately started up a conversation. They were both people that could talk to anybody at any time. Before Akaashi knew it, they’d poured shots of some terrible flavored vodka, and he had one in his hand.

Kuroo toasted to having rich friends, and the four of them threw the shots back.

“Nope,” Kenma groaned with a full body shudder. He put the shot glass as far from himself on the counter as he could reach. “I’m done. Bye guys.” He turned around and started to walk away.

“No, Kenma come back!” Kuroo begged. “One more! There’s gotta be an apple flavor somewhere! I’ll get you a new keyboard too!”

But Kenma just shook his head and disappeared into the house, probably to find a room with a locking door.

“Damn it,” Kuroo sighed. “Worth a shot.”

“He gonna be ok?” Kousuke asked.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Kuroo said with a grin. “Wanna try the peach one?” He reached back onto the counter and grabbed another questionable bottle.

Kousuke shook his body out like he was about to run a race. “Hit me.”

Akaashi grinned. He wrapped himself around Kousuke’s side and raised a finger. “I’ll do it with you. Pour it up Kuroo-san.”

The peach was even worse than the first one, and the group decided they were done with shots for a while. Kousuke heard a song he liked playing from the other side of the house, so they finished up their first round of food, said goodbye to Kuroo, and made their way over.

The room was full of people talking and dancing. Akaashi spotted Asahi and Sugawara. Suga was chatting with a girl that Akaashi vaguely recognized as an up-and-coming singer. Asahi was standing by nervously nodding along.

Akaashi took Kousuke’s hand and pulled him towards them, ready to offer Asahi a moment of relief.

Bokuto heard a crowd start shouting in the next room, and he went to see what the commotion was. There was a circle of people forming around one of the sofas. He saw Kousuke standing in the middle of it holding a bottle of Smirnoff Ice. He was grinning and slowly spun around pointing a finger at the crowd that had gathered with him in the center.

Bokuto glanced past him and saw Akaashi standing with Asahi at the front of the crowd a few feet away. He was looking at Kousuke and laughing with a hand over his mouth.

“ICE! ICE! ICE! ICE!” Yelled the room. Kousuke pulled a key ring out of his pocket, popped the bottle open, got down on one knee, and drank.

The room roared, and the chant turned to “CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!”

Kousuke downed the whole bottle smoothly in a matter of seconds before standing and spinning around holding his arms out like a goddamn action movie hero.

Bokuto’s jaw clenched. He had to admit it was impressive how likable this guy seemed. He was the type of person your eyes followed around a room even if you didn’t want them to. He radiated confidence and warmth from every pore. Bokuto hated him. And he wanted to be him.

Kousuke walked towards Akaashi, and with the arm that wasn’t holding the empty bottle, he swung him down and kissed him on the mouth. The crowd cheered even louder. When he swung him back up, Akaashi looked shocked and bright red, but he was laughing with his whole face. Kousuke tightened the arm around him and turned back to the room. He started jumping to the music, and the crowd followed his lead, the circle closing up as people began dancing. Akaashi’s eyes never once left Kousuke’s face.

Bokuto quickly turned and left. He had no destination in mind other than anywhere else, and he ended up walking upstairs into one of the guest bedrooms where he found Yachi with Kiyoko, Tsukishima, and Kenma. Great. He’d found the ‘terrified of parties’ crowd.

“‘Sup,” he said as he sat down on the bed next to Yachi.

“Hi Bokuto-kun.” Yachi tried and failed to keep surprise out of her voice.

“Y’all still alive in here?” Bokuto asked.

“Unfortunately,” Tsukishima muttered. Bokuto wondered what strings Noya had pulled to get him here. He must have gone through Yamaguchi.

Kiyoko nodded at him politely. Bokuto imagined her husband was probably downstairs destroying furniture with Noya. But she didn’t seem to mind.

“So how’s everyone doing?” He asked.

“Bokuto,” Kenma said, not even looking up from his game. “This is not your crowd. Go back down, you’re killing the vibe.”

“What vibe? You’re all sitting here in silence.”

“Exactly.”

“Fine.” Bokuto got up and headed back downstairs, leaving the anxious loner room behind. Halfway down, he had the realization that when they used to go to parties, Akaashi had usually ended up in that room, waiting out the night until he eventually pulled Bokuto — probably completely trashed and dancing on a table — away towards the door and said he wanted to go home. But with Kousuke, he was in the middle of the crowd, never letting go of his arm.

Bokuto paused on the stairs. Maybe there were signs. Even if I didn’t see them at the time. He kept walking, not wanting to unpack that right now.

Akaashi watched from the corner of the room as Kousuke made his way through the crowd. He’d gone to grab them more food and kept getting distracted by conversations as he made his way back. He’d known these people for two hours and was already more comfortable with them than Akaashi was after six years. Kousuke had been nervous before they arrived, but Akaashi had had no doubts that he’d be able to blend right in.

Watching him now, Akaashi wondered if he’d always fall in love with men who were more pure light than they were human. The scene had made him realize Bokuto had had a similar quality. They were both outgoing and energetic and obnoxiously magnetic. But they were very different too. While Bokuto was passionate and wild and loud, Kousuke was warm and charming and engaging. Bokuto was summer and Kousuke was spring. Bokuto a rollercoaster and Kousuke a carnival funhouse.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by Midori collapsing into the seat next to him. She put her feet in his lap, and he tried not to wince as her pointy heel dug into his leg.

“Keiji, I love him,” she stated.

“Huh?”

“Kousuke. I’m obsessed. He’s amazing.”

Akaashi smiled. “Good. I’m glad. I agree.”

“He’s so fun. And smart! I think he might know everything.”

“He honestly might. And even if he doesn’t, he could convince you he does.”

Midori grinned at him. “So whatcha doing over here?”

“If you were an amusement park ride, what would you be?” Akaashi asked without preamble.

Midori didn’t question it. She simply pursed her lips for a moment while she pondered the question. “I’m a Ferris wheel. But only the top half.”

“And what am I?”

“You’re the information booth.”

Akaashi snorted. “Bitch.”

She laughed. “I’m kidding. You’re actually the planetarium that no one visits. But for those who are smart enough to stop by, it’s the only thing they still remember a year after the trip.”

He smiled at her. “Thanks. I think. What do you think Noya is?”

“Oof,” Midori threw her head back and sighed. “Something that would kill you if you tried to ride it. Like the zipper. Or one of those god-awful drop towers.”

Akaashi chuckled. And after taking a few moments to work up the courage, he asked, “And what about Koutarou?”

Midori pondered. “Tilt-a-whirl,” she said.

“Really? Not a rollercoaster?”

“No, I don’t think so,” she said with a contemplative expression on her face. “Yuu is closer to a rollercoaster. Kou is too… sensitive. He’s classic carnival. Fun. He’s a tilt-a-whirl.”

“Hm,” Akaashi bit his lip and frowned. “Kousuke’s probably something like Flight of Passage,” he said softly. “Or a house of mirrors.”

Midori looked at him as he fiddled his fingers in front of his chest. “You ok?” She asked, her voice serious now.

He nodded. “Just thinking about stuff.”

She let him think, and they sat in silence for a minute. That had always been their friendship. She was outgoing and charismatic too. But underneath all the glamour, she was a lot like Akaashi. Brilliant, quick witted, trapped in her own head full of deep thoughts and feelings that never quite felt right to say out loud. Her music was how she expressed herself. And she’d found millions of people around the world who connected to those thoughts and feelings. Akaashi hadn’t found his outlet yet.

“You ok?” He asked her.

She nodded too. “Yeah. You know, I’m pretty sure I only know about half these people.”

“Half??” Akaashi laughed. “Bitch, his place is fucking packed! I’m surprised you even know a quarter.”

Midori sighed. “You might be right. I’m trying to be a good host though.”

“Yeah, you’ve been running around all night. I’ve seen you. It’s impressive.”

“The small talk gets rough after a while,” she admitted.

“And so you came to me,” Akaashi said with an amused spark in his eye.

“Of course!” Midori played along. “I know you adore small talk.”

“Yeah, I’m the master. The weather has been rough lately, huh? And is God dead?” He turned to smirk at her.

She grinned. “I love you, Keiji.”

“I love you too.”

“And no, God is not dead.” She shot him a challenging look.

“We’ll discuss it later.”

Midori squeezed his hand. “Well, this has been nice. But I should probably go make sure no one’s having sex in my bathtub.”

“Eww!” Akaashi said. “Happy birthday to you.”

“Having the absolute time of my life,” she said with her arms out as she got up and walked away.

Akaashi watched her disappear into the next room as Kousuke returned to take her seat. “Hey! Sorry that took so long. Here you go.” He passed Akaashi a plate of appetizers.

“Thanks,” he said as he bit into an onigiri. “Was worried I was gonna lose you out there.”

Kousuke laughed. “Sorry. This place is fucking nuts. I think I just exchanged numbers with a kpop idol.”

Bokuto was drunk. Very drunk. A game of rage cage had broken out on one of Midori’s dining room tables. Bokuto bounced the ball again and, miraculously, it went into the cup. He passed the stack to Suga next to him. It soon made its way around the table, and the game came down to whether or not Noya could get the ball in before Hinata.

Hinata was panicking hard, but eventually the tiny ball bounced into the cup, and he collapsed on the ground, practically weeping in relief, while everyone cheered. Noya let out a deafening yell as he reached for the center cup in defeat and chugged. When he was done, he threw it across the room with a shout and leapt onto Hinata who was still on the floor. Bokuto was pretty sure he’d forgotten that it was his own house being trashed.

They rolled around until Kuroo stepped in and dragged them up. Bokuto fell laughing against Tanaka who was also in hysterics. The second Kuroo released him, Noya leapt four feet into the air demanding a rematch.

Bokuto decided he was too wasted to play another round, so once he could breathe again, he stumbled back to the kitchen and grabbed another plate of snacks. He made a wrong turn on the way back and ended up in a different room.

It was crowded, and people were chatting and drinking and dancing. Bokuto paused when he saw Akaashi leaning against the wall. His face was red, and he was clearly drunk. He’d never been very good at holding his alcohol. Kousuke was leaning against him with a hand on the wall by Akaashi’s shoulder. Bokuto couldn’t see his face. Akaashi’s hands were playing with the hem of Kousuke’s shirt, and they were laughing loudly about something.

Bokuto stood and stared. He didn’t mean to, but he was too drunk to do anything else. He hovered for too long, however, and Akaashi soon spotted him over Kousuke’s shoulder. Bokuto still didn’t move. He felt dizzy. Kousuke, with his back to where Bokuto was standing, didn’t seem to notice anything had changed, and he leaned forward and kissed Akaashi on the lips. Bokuto’s heart dropped, and something burned in his stomach. He didn’t think it was the alcohol. But he still didn’t look away.

Akaashi’s blue eyes stayed locked on Bokuto’s as he grabbed Kousuke by the back of the neck and kissed him back. Bokuto watched as Kousuke put his hands on Akaashi’s waist and kissed him hard again and again. Akaashi stared at Bokuto around the back of his boyfriend’s head for too long to not be deliberate, before closing his eyes and leaning into Kousuke tighter.

Bokuto’s body and eyes remained frozen even while his heart thundered. Akaashi’s eyes opened again, and he looked directly at Bokuto to see if he was still there, his open mouth never leaving Kousuke’s. Bokuto thought he could see his tongue, even from where he was standing.

Akaashi closed his eyes again and slid one hand up Kousuke’s shirt onto his back. Bokuto felt a roaring in his ears. Where the material lifted, he saw a large tattoo on Kousuke’s spine that traveled up and across his back. He couldn’t tell what the design was with Akaashi’s thin fingers grasping the flesh it covered, but he felt a tear of jealousy.

Did Akaashi like those tattoos? Did he put his mouth on them and say they were sexy. Did they make him think about how Bokuto was nothing but a child? Did they make him forget him entirely?

The world moved around him. But sounds faded away, and his vision remained tunneled on Akaashi and Kousuke as they tangled around each other. Akaashi’s beautiful hands held Kousuke’s face, and his fingers twisted in his clothes and his hair. Kousuke’s hands were tearing over his ribs and groping his hips. Bokuto’s heart was on fire now too. He watched Akaashi throw his head back and his mouth fall open as Kousuke’s lips found his throat. His face hiding nothing of how much he loved it.

Bokuto knew that face. He had savored it every night. When he was the one touching him. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Now it was tearing him apart.

He didn’t know how long he stood there. Time had stopped. Everything had stopped. Everything but the sight and sound of another, better man touching and loving the man Bokuto loved. Finally someone bumped into him, and the world snapped back into focus. He turned around and left the room.

Akaashi’s brain was swimming, and his body was aching, and he was starting to want to do a whole lot more than make out against a wall. They’d have to stop soon, or he feared he might be the one who ended up having sex in Midori’s bathtub. Luckily Kousuke seemed to be thinking the same thing, and he broke his lips away from Akaashi’s and pulled his hips back as he said breathlessly, “You ok?”

Akaashi nodded. “Yeah. But you’re really turning me on right now, so we should probably stop.”

Kousuke groaned. “Sorry. You’re just really fucking sexy right now.”

“You too.”

Akaashi glanced over Kousuke’s shoulder. Bokuto was gone. In truth, Akaashi had forgotten about his presence altogether once things had really started heating up. Kissing Kousuke was an all-consuming, reason-devouring, mind-boggling experience that hadn’t seemed to get any less so in the six months they’d been together. But as he stared at the spot where Bokuto had stood, he felt a tightness start to form in his throat.

What was I doing? That was probably cruel. But why was he just standing there?

“You sure you’re ok?” Kousuke asked again against his cheek.

“Yeah,” Akaashi said slowly. “Sorry.”

He felt guilty. He’d already been very clear with Bokuto that things were over between them, but this had probably been over the line. He had nearly always staunchly refused to kiss Bokuto in public, and now he’d just flaunted getting to second base with his new boyfriend in a room full of people right front of him.

Even in his drunken state, Akaashi knew the expression on Bokuto’s face would haunt him. Betrayed and furious and devastated. Like he would have started wars and battled gods to pull Akaashi and Kousuke away from each other.

Akaashi put his head on Kousuke’s shoulder and grasped his waist, burrowing himself into the comfortable, reassuring solidness of him in an attempt to assuage the guilt. Kousuke put his arms around him, and Akaashi breathed a little easier.

“Keiji? What’s wrong?”

Kousuke sounded concerned, and as Akaashi pressed his face into his boyfriend’s neck, guilt started to turn into anger. How dare Bokuto use Akaashi to make Kousuke feel upset. It didn’t matter how indirectly. They’d been having a great time, and then Bokuto had appeared, and now Kousuke was sad. Akaashi knew that was irrational, but he still fumed. What right did Bokuto have to dictate any of their actions or feelings? How dare he intrude on their life any further.

Akaashi took Kousuke’s face into his hands and pressed a long, deep kiss to his lips. “Let’s get another drink.”

Chapter Text

Midori loved hosting parties, but this one was getting a bit out of control. It was supposed to be a birthday party with her friends in Japan, but somehow word had gotten out, and now her beautiful house was being torn apart at the seams. She’d even had to call in last minute to get more food delivered.

“Yuu!” She yelled gratefully as she spotted Noya. He was always easy to find, being the loudest person in any room you put him in. Midori grabbed his arm and rested her head against him.

“Hey baby.” He turned and started pressing kisses all over her face. He was decidedly not sober.

“Yuu, stop, you’ll mess up my makeup!” Midori dodged out of the way and pushed back on his chest.

“Sorry.” He turned back and clapped a hand on Tanaka’s shoulder. “So listen man. All I’m saying. You. Totally killed it. Like. Totally. Like fuck. And so good to see you! And like. You were so good. Babe. Wasn’t he great? In that thing?”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Midori asked.

“You remember. You know. The thing. With… with the gym.”

“Thanks bruh,” Tanaka said sincerely. He was just as drunk as Noya. “You too man. You’re totally killing it. Totally.”

Midori rolled her eyes and left them behind to bask in each other’s awesomeness. She ran up the stairs and found Yachi and Kiyoko still sitting in one of the only quiet rooms in the house.

“Hey!” Kiyoko greeted when she ran in and collapsed on the bed. “Holding up?”

Midori put her forehead on Kiyoko’s shoulder. They’d been friends since Midori had started leaving school to go to Karasuno’s games in high school. During the first Spring Tournament she’d hitched a ride to Tokyo in Saeko’s van and nearly given Yachi a heart attack when she snuck into the hotel through the bathroom window. “I just need a minute.”

Kiyoko rubbed her hair. “It’s a good party Midori.”

“Thanks. Our drunk husbands are downstairs incoherently complimenting each other.”

Kiyoko laughed. “I’m glad they’re having fun.”

“How you doing Hitoka?” Midori glanced at Yachi.

Yachi let out a nervous laugh. “I’m great! All good!”

Midori smiled. “Right. It’s ok, you can stay up here. I won’t be offended.”

Yachi breathed in relief. “Thanks Midori.”

After taking a few minutes to catch up with her friends and decompress, Midori headed back downstairs. Chaos seemed to increase the later the night went. In fact she was surprised no one had called the police on them yet. Although that might have been because all her neighbors had just shown up at the party instead. Midori frowned in disbelief when she saw Kuroo chatting with the old lady across the street who always sunbathed naked on her roof. How she was going to get everyone out of here at the end of the night, Midori had no idea.

She passed through the kitchen again and saw that Akaashi and Kousuke had joined Noya and Tanaka and were slamming shots of vodka together. Midori winced when Noya dropped into a squat with his tongue hanging out and started screaming like he was going to war. They’d been together for eight years, and she always thought she must be used to his wildness by now, only to be surprised every time. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t like it though. Despite how absurd he was, whenever he had fun like this, her heart still fluttered.

She ran to join them and wrapped her arms around him from behind, kissing his neck. Noya finally stopped screaming and turned around to hug her too.

“IT’S MIDORI’S BIRTHDAY!!!!!!” He shouted. “LET’S DO SHOTS OF MIDORI FOR MIDORI!!!!” Noya stumbled back to the corner when the liquor bottles were being stashed and grabbed a bottle of the sweet, green alcohol. He tried to fill everyone’s shot glasses and spilled almost half of it in the process.

Kousuke started laughing as he hung off Akaashi’s body, and the two of them almost slipped on the spilled drink. They managed to steady themselves at the last second, only for Tanaka to then collapse against the counter. Luckily he popped right back up again. Midori sighed in relief. She had no idea what she’d do if someone cracked their head open in the middle of her birthday party.

Noya clumsily passed out the shot glasses, and the five of them clinked them together and shouted, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIDORI!!!”

The entire section of the house burst into cheers as they threw back the shots. All their faces were wincing as they looked back up.

“Oh shit,” Kousuke grimaced. “I don’t think you’re supposed to do shots of that. Holy crap!”

Akaashi started laughing, and in his drunken state he began a barely coherent speech about how midori was usually a mixer due to how sweet it was. Even wasted he was still the “um actually” guy. Kousuke nodded along to his words, clearly not absorbing any of them.

Midori grabbed a handful of chips to counteract the sweetness, kissed Noya one more time, and left the group to check on some more of her friends and make sure no one was dead. As she passed the bathroom, she didn’t notice Bokuto slipping out with his pants still unzipped, followed by an equally drunk girl a moment later. The two went opposite ways as soon as they left the bathroom, probably already forgetting what they’d done in there.

Once she’d confirmed that the doors to the master bedroom and reserved guest rooms were still locked, Midori made her way back towards her friends. This time she saw Bokuto. He was standing with Kuroo rambling on about something with a lot of hand gestures. He had a bottle of beer in hand, and it was far from his first.

Midori felt her face fall as she watched him. Bokuto Koutarou was one of the most beautiful souls she’d ever met. She loved making him laugh and seeing his bright smile. She loved how much he loved on other people. But right now, he looked decidedly unhappy.

She started to make her way over towards him when she heard shouting from the next room. The shouting soon turned to cheering and laughing, and she heard a shout of “Akaaaaaaashhhhiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!!!!”

Midori frowned and walked towards the commotion.When she peeked her head in, her jaw dropped and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

Akaashi had climbed on top of the long dining room table and was singing at the top of his lungs to Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” as it blasted from the speakers. He was pointing at Kousuke as he sang and dancing in an absurd, overly seductive way that was only sexy because Akaashi Keiji was the one doing it.

Based on the crowd’s reaction, it sounded like he had just gotten up there.

“Gonna give you all my love boy
My fear is fading fast
Been saving it all for you
Cause only love can last”

Midori started to laugh despite herself. He was clearly blacked out. She knew Akaashi’s levels of drunkenness well, and if he was at this point, there was no going back. She looked at Kousuke who was still on the ground but staring up at Akaashi with unbridled joy and incredulity. She wondered if this was his first experience with drunk Keiji. If so, he was in for a real treat. An inhibition and insecurity free Keiji was a fountain of absurdity.

As the song progressed, Akaashi got down on all fours and leaned towards Kousuke, writhing his body around as he sang the suggestive lyrics.

Midori recognized the look on Kousuke’s face. She’d seen it on Bokuto at parties, as well, when Akaashi got to this state or when he strutted down a runway in full drag and managed to be the prettiest girl in the room. But Bokuto would probably have gotten up on the table with him and taken over the singing and dancing. Kousuke seemed to be a little better at letting Akaashi have the spotlight sometimes.

”Touched for the very first time
Like a vir-ir-ir-irgin
When your heart beats next to mine”

Midori thought about the song. Despite the fact that the song was basically a meme at this point, the lyrics actually described pretty well how Akaashi probably felt about Kousuke. She’d seen new life born into him as soon as they started dating. Love and passion showed clear on his face whenever he looked at or talked about his new man. Not that the current display was anything indicative of the seriousness of their relationship. Akaashi was running his hands all over his body, and his eyes were closed as he sang the chorus. It was a miracle he was staying upright on the table. Kousuke was hovering in front of it ready to catch him if he fell, but Midori didn’t think he was in any state himself to be of much assistance.

The crowd of people was singing along and cheering Akaashi on. She recognized most of them as people who had known him in high school or college, and who definitely understood what a remarkable thing was happening here. Midori pulled her phone out and started recording. She would want record of this later. Especially since she was pretty sure Akaashi himself would have no memory of this tomorrow.

The song ended and Akaashi slid off the table into a heap on the floor. Kousuke pulled him up and they started making out again. Midori put her phone away and started to leave, but then she saw Bokuto and Kuroo leaning up against the wall in the corner of the room. Apparently they had also followed the noise.

Bokuto was frowning, and his arms were crossed tightly over his chest. Midori’s heart ached a bit. That couldn’t have been easy for him to see. Bokuto had adored drunk Akaashi. And clearly still adored Akaashi himself. It broke her heart to see him like this.

He and Kuroo were whispering to each other, and she hoped Kuroo was providing words of comfort, but based on the level of inebriation both of them were displaying, she doubted it.

Kuroo was smirking about something, and Midori got a bad feeling in her chest as she saw him start walking towards the sound system. She watched as he started typing on the laptop connected to the speakers. A few seconds later she sighed when she heard the opening bars of “Like a Prayer.”

Akaashi Keiji was usually very cool. He was calm and collected and put together, and usually if you checked his headphones, he was listening to hiphop artists with the cleverest flow and the best beats. But he was also a gay man. And he fucking loved Madonna. And he was absolutely plastered. There was no hope for him.

Soon enough he pulled away from Kousuke’s lips and looked up. The rest of the crowd was doing the same as the haunting intro played, suddenly cutting off the song that had been going before. Midori winced as she watched Akaashi scramble out of Kousuke’s arms and back up onto the table; and as the beat dropped and the chorus came around, he started to sing.

”In the midnight hour I can feel your power
Just like a prayer you know I’ll take you there!”

As Akaashi started in on the second verse, Midori looked back at Bokuto and Kuroo. She saw that Noya had joined them. He was just as drunk as Akaashi and was doubled over laughing and singing himself though he barely knew the lyrics. Thanks for your help, babe. Midori sighed to herself.

Kuroo and Bokuto were watching Akaashi. Kuroo was smirking again. Midori hoped they weren’t intending to be malicious. That Kuroo was just being Kuroo. And in truth, most of the partygoers were also wasted, so no one was really thinking about how embarrassing this was for Akaashi. Luckily he wasn’t a bad singer to begin with, and he was beautiful enough that everything he did still seemed cool.

Midori watched Bokuto’s face. He was staring at his ex with an expression that said, ‘oh my god what are you doing,’ but there was a hard to read emotion underlying it. Heartbreak or anger or guilt she couldn’t tell.

She looked back at Akaashi who was now lying down and rolling around on the table as he sang the lyrics at Kousuke who was holding his hand.

”I hear your voice, it’s like an angel sighing
I close my eyes
Oh god I think I’m falling
Out of the sky I close my eyes, heaven help me!”

As the chorus started, he got back up and continued belting and swaying on the table. The crowd was laughing, and Midori noticed several of his other friends were recording videos now.

Midori closed her eyes for a brief moment. Then she started pushing her way towards him, her tiny body easily shoved aside and crushed even in her platform shoes. But she kept pushing forward. When she was close to the front, she opened her mouth and started to sing.

”Like a child, you whisper softly to me.”

When her strong, beautiful voice hit the air, the room exploded in a roar, and the crowd parted like the Red Sea to let her through. Midori had been 11 the first time she had sang in public at an elementary school assembly. Since then, the crowds had gotten bigger and bigger as her voice got better and better. It was clear and angelic and powerful all at once. It was a blessing and an oracle and a weapon. She used it now for Akaashi.

When he heard her sing, his eyes opened, and he smiled widely as she climbed onto the table. She reached out a hand, and he held it as she stood up. Akaashi closed his eyes and turned his head up towards the ceiling as he listened to her, a look of euphoric joy settling over his face. Midori felt her smile grow wider. She held his hand and let her whole voice out as they sang together.

”It’s like a dream, no end and no beginning
You’re here with me, it’s like a dream
Let the choir sing!”

When the chorus hit again, they let their bodies go, getting lost in the song and the roar of the crowd below. Akaashi danced with as much grace and beauty as was possible in his current state, his arms curling over his head and his hips swaying back and forth. Midori spun around and jumped and skipped across the table.

”When you call my name it’s like a little prayer
I’m down on my knees, I wanna take you there”

She opened her eyes and looked out at the sea of people filling her house to a level far above fire safety code. A sea made of her friends, friends of friends, and plenty of strangers. She saw Akaashi who she loved more than herself, an unrestricted smile across his face, moving loose and fluid and completely free. She looked to the back of the room at Bokuto, who she also loved. He was smiling now, and a wave of relief washed over her. Next to him was Yuu, the man she’d loved since she was 15 years old, and he was staring at her with as much love and admiration as he had the first time he’d heard her sing.

She put her hands in the air and twisted to let Akaashi sashay down the table beside her. He was sweating and laughing, and together they were young and sexy and beautiful. And the world was fun again, their troubles forgotten in the music and the joy.

Akaashi jumped into his falsetto for the ’just like a prayer I’ll take you there’s and Midori harmonized and let her voice run through the ’oh yeah yeah yeahs’ She saw Bokuto put a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh, and she twirled and laughed aloud as Akaashi danced beside her with his thin hips moving and long arms flailing about.

”Just like a prayer, your voice can take me there
Just like a muse to me, you are a mystery
Just like a dream, you are not what you seem
Just like a prayer, no choice your voice can take me there!”

As the song ended, Midori reached for Akaashi and pressed her face into his side, his arm settling around her shoulders as they looked out at their audience, who cheered and screamed for them. They laughed, breathless, and Akaashi kissed her head, and she raised an arm into the air as they took a sweeping bow before leaping off the table.

Akaashi fell into Kousuke’s arms, and Kousuke held him tightly like he was the most incredible thing in the world. And he was.

“Hold on to him now,” Midori said to Kousuke as he rocked Akaashi back and forth. “Before someone puts Britney on.”

Kousuke nodded at her before kissing a barely upright Akaashi on the cheek. Midori let the crowd part around her as she walked back to where Noya was waiting.

“Nnnnhuugghhh…”

Bokuto was puking. He barely remembered making it to the bathroom. He just knew the party was finally over and he was on the floor of his friends’ gorgeous washroom heaving over and over into their toilet.

“Yup. Get it out. All out my dude!” Noya yelled. The owner of said bathroom was lying in the bathtub, with enough alcohol in him that he really shouldn’t be alive.

“Shut up,” Bokuto groaned from his spot on the floor. “How are you not puking right now?”

“I am built different, babyyy!” Noya shouted in a singsongy voice.

Bokuto swore as another round came up, and he stuck his face back in the toilet. Noya inexplicably started singing the chorus to “Can’t Take My Eyes off You” by Frankie Valley at the top of his lungs.

“I! LOVE! YOU! BABY! AND IF ITS QUITE ALRIGHT I NEED YOU BABY…”

When the last of the alcohol made its way out of Bokuto’s stomach, he groaned miserably, flushed the toilet, and collapsed face up on the floor. “You know I had sex in there earlier,” he mumbled.

Noya just cracked up, too drunk to be bothered.

“Actually no,” Bokuto tried to piece memories together. “I think it was the sink.”

“PICTURE THIS WE WERE BOTH BUTT NAKED BANGING ON THE BATHROOM FLOOR!” Noya changed songs instantly, word association sending him into “It Wasn’t Me.”

“Oh my god,” said an exhausted voice at the door. Bokuto rolled his head to find Midori standing there. She had finally discarded her absurd shoes. Her makeup was removed as well, and she was wearing a giant sweatshirt. “Guys what the fuck?”

“HOW COULD I FORGET THAT I HAD GIVEN HER AN EXTRA KEY?” Noya was still singing.

“Yuu…” Midori sighed.

“Midoriiiiiiii!!!!!!” He slurred out, finally noticing her. “IIIII looooveeee youuuu!!!!!”

“I love you too,” she muttered. “Now get the fuck out of the bathtub and go to bed.” She walked over and started pulling Noya upright. “Please don’t puke on me.”

“Iron stomach, baby!” Noya tried to wink as he made his way out of the tub and tumbled promptly onto the floor. He popped right back up and started pawing at his long-suffering girlfriend. “You’re so pretty I love you so much.” His open mouth crashed into hers.

“Yuu!” She shouted, muffled by his clumsy lips.

“Please don’t try and have sex in front of me!” Bokuto yelled from the floor. “I’m still right here.”

Noya was now hanging off of Midori’s neck as she tried to push him towards the door. “Go to bed I’ll be right there!”

“Okayyyy. I love youuuu!!! I’ll be waitinggg!” Noya released her and started stumbling towards the door. Bokuto could hear him pick Frankie Valley back up as he went up to the master bedroom. “TRUST IN ME WHEN I SAAAYYYYYY.”

Midori walked over to Bokuto and stood above him with her hands on her hips. “Kou, do you remember where you’re sleeping?”

He nodded.

“Do you need help? If so, I cannot lift you.”

He shook his head.

“Ok well, you need to get up now because I’m not going to leave you on the floor. So come on.” She bent down and started tugging on one of his hands. It was a pointless task. He was over a foot taller than her and twice as heavy.

Bokuto groaned as he rolled over and pushed up onto his arms. He slung one arm around her tiny shoulders, and they made their way to the guest room he was staying in. Bokuto fell face first onto the bed.

“You ok?” Midori asked.

He nodded.

“Ok, let me know if you need anything. I’m going to bed.” Midori turned and started to walk towards the door.

Before she could disappear, Bokuto raised his head up and yelled out, “Mi-chan!!”

She turned back. “Yes Kou?”

Bokuto’s face crumpled. “Why doesn’t he love me?”

Midori sighed, and her features softened. “Oh Kou…” She walked back over and sat down next to him. He pressed his face into the pillow, and she stroked his arm. The image of Akaashi and Kousuke came back into his head, and he started crying.

“Damn it,” he sniffed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, Kou.”

“I promised Atsumu I wouldn’t do this again!”

“Do what?”

“Get drunk and cry over Keiji on the bathroom floor.”

“Oh honey…” she scooted closer and pulled his head into her chest. “You’re not in the bathroom anymore at least.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

“He kissed him in front of me. On purpose. He looked right at me.”

“That sucks.”

“I don’t wanna love him anymore.”

“I know.”

“But I don’t want anyone else.”

“I know.”

“I want him to love me again.”

“I’m so sorry, Kou.”

“Why does he hate me?”

“He doesn’t. I promise.”

“I don’t wanna lose you guys too.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you love Keiji more than me, and Noya will always choose you, so I’m worried you’ll leave me.” These were fears he could never have confessed if he wasn’t completely plastered. But as the distance between him and Akaashi grew, the worry had been building deep in his heart.

“Kou! No no no, honey, hey!” Midori hugged him tighter and kissed his hair. “We are never gonna leave you! You are kind and strong, and I love you so much, and I always will. I promise. And Yuu loves you too. And if you ever need me, just call, and I will fly there right that minute. And I will stay with you here all night if you want me to. Even though you’re gross and covered in puke and snot. I’ll never let you be alone.”

Bokuto rested his head against her chest. “I love you too, Mi-chan.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry I threw up.”

“It’s ok.”

“Also I’m sorry I had sex on your sink.”

“WHAT??”

“I’m sorry!”

Midori sighed. “Kou…”

“I’ll clean it tomorrow.”

“Fine. Thank you. Also with whom?”

“I think… I think her name was Yuna. Do you know a Yuna?”

“I do not.”

“Fuck.”

“It’s ok.” She kissed his head again. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m tired.”

“I know.”

“I’m ok now.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

Bokuto hesitated. “Will Noya be ok?”

“I guarantee you he’s already passed out.”

“Ok. Then maybe. Happy birthday by the way.”

“Thanks Kou,” she whispered, and Bokuto rapidly fell asleep in her arms.

Chapter Text

Midori was gone when Bokuto woke the next day. He felt like death as he made his way down to the kitchen. He found her and a few of her housekeeping staff gathering up bags of trash, trying to make a dent in the hellscape left from the party.

“Hey,” Bokuto nodded towards Midori’s personal assistant as he walked towards the refrigerator for water.

She stared at him. Bokuto remembered she only spoke English, so he just waved as he poured his glass.

“Hey Midori,” he said, taking a seat at the kitchen counter.

“Hi Kou. You ok? How’s your head? Can I make you food?” Midori put down the trash bag and started to wash her hands.

He tried to smile, but it was more like a wince. “I’m ok. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure? You should eat. I’ll make you anything. Yuu is gonna want food anyway, so you may as well.”

“No, really I’m ok. You don’t have to.”

Midori glared at him for a moment with narrowed eyes. “I’m making you food.” She turned around and walked towards the fridge, leaving no room for argument.

Bokuto let out a little laugh. Midori was a bit like a tiger mom without any children. Protective, loving, and nurturing but with a little too much intensity for comfort. “Fine. But don’t work too hard. Also can’t you pay people to do this?”

“It’s just heating stuff up. There’s leftovers from last night. Unless you want something else.”

“Whatever is easiest for you,” he said accepting defeat.

Midori grabbed a pan and refried last night’s expensive tiger shrimp and wagyu beef with some eggs. She handed him a plate alongside a couple of bagels she’d gotten from the States. “Here. Breakfast sandwich.”

“Thanks.” Bokuto loaded the bagel and started eating. He had to admit it was delicious. “By the way,” he said after a few bites. “I, uh… I just wanted to say I don’t really remember what all I said last night, but I’m sorry. And thank you for taking care of me.”

She exhaled and smiled up at him. “Of course. Anytime. I’m sorry you had a rough night.”

“It’s ok. Not your fault.”

Midori nodded. She walked a few steps towards the counter and frowned. Looking down she asked, “Did he really kiss Kousuke in front of you?”

Bokuto sighed but nodded. He took another bite of his sandwich.

Midori looked away with a sad grimace on her face. “That really sucks. I’m sorry.”

“I get it. I haven’t been great the last few times we saw each other. And he was drunk.”

“Still. That’s unlike him. And not an excuse.”

“I don’t really wanna think about it,” Bokuto said. “Please don’t say anything to him.”

She reached out and rubbed his arm. “Ok. Whatever you want, Kou.”

Bokuto nodded and thanked her again. They looked up when Noya stumbled into the kitchen looking about as good as Bokuto felt.

“You puke yet?” Bokuto asked by way of greeting.

Noya collapsed in the chair beside him and started loading a bagel. He was wearing nothing but boxers, and his hair was sticking up at all angles. “The iron stomach continues to hold strong. But also, I’m dying.”

Midori kissed him good morning and put on a pot of coffee.

~

That afternoon they were all hanging out in the living room. Noya and Bokuto were trying to toss peanut butter cups into each other’s mouths while Midori talked to Yachi on the phone.

While most people might get up and take a call in a different room, Midori had a longstanding habit of taking and making phone calls wherever she was, simply curling up into a ball and muttering softly into the mic no matter what the topic.

She had just gotten off the phone with Kiyoko, who had called her from the road as she and Tanaka rode back up to Miyagi. Apparently Kiyoko had gossip from the night before, because as soon as they hung up, Midori had called Yachi to report. It must have been juicy because Midori’s voice was dropped low, and her fingertips were squeezed together in a point as she talked.

“Is that not the most stressful thing you’ve ever heard?” she said softly, clutching her phone to her face. “Hitoka. I swear I’ve never been more stressed in my life. I’m telling you, as soon as she said that? Instant diarrhea.”

Bokuto snorted, and a peanut butter cup hit him in the face. He picked it up off the ground and threw it back at Noya. He loved Midori’s phone calls. Somehow they were always ridiculous, and not knowing what was happening on the other end just made her statements funnier.

“Hitoka. I’m not kidding. Like I’m clenching.”

Noya shook his head. “Midori…” She held up a hand to silence him. Bokuto laughed and threw another candy at him, hoping to catch him off guard. Noya dove to his knees and swung his body around so it landed perfectly in his mouth.

“Dammit!” Bokuto jumped in frustration. “Stupid libero skills!”

Noya winked and flipped him off as he got back on his feet.

“I still don’t get why you didn’t go pro,” Bokuto said.

“Kou, this is your first day off in months!” Noya said as he tossed. “I can do whatever I want. I’m the most free person in the world.”

Bokuto tripped over a chair but managed to catch it. “Ok that’s valid. But still.”

They’d had this conversation several times over the years. During college, Bokuto had hoped they’d play together forever. But Noya never wanted that life. Bokuto understood it, but he still missed him a lot when he was gone.

They realized Midori had stopped talking. “Everything good?” Noya asked in a way that they all knew meant he did not take these conversations seriously but was trying to play along.

“Oh my god,” Midori shook her head. “You don’t even wanna know. I’m so upset.”

“Sorry Mi-chan,” Noya said and tossed her a peanut butter cup. It bounced off her forehead and onto the ground. She ate it anyway.

Akaashi woke in the early morning. He was still drunk, and his head was swimming. He rolled onto his other side and reached out. His fingers brushed Kousuke’s back, and he dragged himself closer.

“Keiji?” Kousuke murmured, still half asleep.

“Sorry,” Akaashi whispered back as he pressed his lips to Kousuke’s shoulder. “Just wanted to touch you.”

“Mhm.”

Akaashi put his arms around him and pulled his naked body into his own. “Goodnight.”

He woke again a few hours later and saw Kousuke standing beside him.

“Scusa amore,” Kousuke said softly. He bent down to kiss Akaashi’s forehead. “Didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

Akaashi’s eyes closed, but he reached out with his hand to touch Kousuke again. He ran it up and down his body a few times before drifting back to sleep.

When he finally woke up for real, he was alone. He pushed up onto his elbows and winced to block out the light. He tried to piece together the end of the night. Everything after shots with Noya was a blur. He knew they had left and gone back to Kousuke’s apartment. He was naked, so he knew they must have done it, and he’d fallen asleep right after.

His head was pounding, and he felt woozy. It had been years since he’d blacked out like that. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand to check the time. It was past 3 in the afternoon. “Shit…” he groaned. “That’s embarrassing.”

He climbed out of bed and threw on a pair of boxer shorts.

When he opened the bedroom door, he saw Kousuke standing in the kitchen with his back turned. He was holding his phone between his ear and shoulder as he grabbed something out of the oven. Whatever he was making smelled incredible. He was speaking Italian in a quiet voice, and Akaashi knew it was because he was worried of waking him, even this late into the day.

He leaned against the frame of the bedroom door and felt an overwhelming tenderness fill his heart. To him, Kousuke still seemed too good to be true. Smart and funny, kind and insightful. He wasn’t flawless by any means. Over the last eight months, Akaashi had learned he was too carefree, overly optimistic, and scared of conflict. Bad with money, desperate to please, and hopelessly addicted to nicotine. He had a heart too hopeful to be held back by any fear or doubt, even when it went against reason. He was talented and brilliant and accustomed to coasting through life on charm and good intentions. But despite all that, when Akaashi was around him, he felt sane. He felt all his own darkness start to fade, as if Kousuke was pulling him out of it and back into the light.

But as he watched him now, he wasn’t smiling. His heart was fluttering too much for that. He wasn’t good at opening his heart to people, but with Kousuke it had been easy. He’d taught him true romance and artistic passion. And Akaashi had fallen hard and fast. Before he’d known what had happened, he’d been over the cliff with no safety net below. But Kousuke had fallen with him.

“Si. Ti voglio bene, Mamma. Ciao.” Kousuke put the phone down. Akaashi padded up behind him and put his arms around his waist.

“Who were you talking to?”

Kousuke turned his head and smiled at him. “Hey! You’re up. Just my mom.”

“What time is it there?”

“7ish. She’s one of those up at dawn people.”

“Crazy,” Akaashi murmured.

“I know.” Kousuke turned around and put his arms around Akaashi’s neck. “Good morning.”

“Sorry I slept so long.”

“It’s ok. I know you needed it. You’ve been working really hard.”

It was true. Tenma had just finished the final draft for the first few chapters of his new volleyball manga, and he and Akaashi had been crunched for time to the last minute. He’d had many sleepless nights.

“I guess so. Thanks.” Akaashi leaned in to kiss him. He inhaled deeply and kissed him slowly a few more times, gently running his hands along Kousuke's waist. They broke apart, and Kousuke hopped up on the countertop, and Akaashi stepped between his legs. “You sound really sexy when you speak Italian.”

Kousuke grinned and ran his fingers through Akaashi’s bedhead. “Thanks. I don’t really think about how I sound different. It’s my native language after all.”

“When you think, are your thoughts in Italian or Japanese?”

“Italian. Almost always. But I guess it depends what I’m thinking about.”

“Hm.” Akaashi leaned forward again and started kissing his chest over his shirt. “Teach me to say something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Something I can say to you.”

Kousuke thought for a moment. The he smiled said a long string of words that to Akaashi sounded lively and melodic. He also made lots of exaggerated hand gestures.

“What does that mean?”

“It means ‘Lapo, your cooking is amazing and your fashion is unmatched!’”

Akaashi laughed. “I might need some time to work up to that.”

Kousuke softened his smile. “Ok. How about ‘ti amo, Kousuke?’”

“What’s that one.”

“It means I love you.”

“One more time?” Akaashi listened intently.

“Ti amo,” Kousuke repeated.

“Ti amo, Kousuke,” Akaashi said slowly.

Kousuke’s smiled widened. “Anch’io ti amo, Keiji. I love you too.” He kissed him again. “Oh!” Kousuke leaned over and grabbed the plate he’d been holding earlier off the counter. “Here. Eat.”

The delightful aroma turned out to be slices of focaccia with tomatoes and olives. Akaashi grabbed a piece and took a bite. “Thanks. You are a good cook.”

“It’s just reheated from yesterday. I figured you’d need food when you woke up.”

“How’d you know I was waking up soon? It’s right out of the oven.”

Kousuke shrugged. He grabbed a piece for himself. “I don’t know. Figured it had to be soon. Also I was getting hungry.”

Akaashi smiled now. He reached up and touched Kousuke’s cheek. “You know sometimes I think you fell straight out of the sky and right into my lap. Are you sure you’re a real person?”

Kousuke started to blush, and Akaashi’s heart stuttered. To fluster Lapo Kousuke Hashimoto was a formidable thing.

Kousuke ran a finger along Akaashi’s bare chest over his heart. “As real as you,” he said softly.

Akaashi brushed their lips together before pushing back and grabbing another piece of focaccia.

“Have you showered yet?” He asked when they were done eating.

“No not yet,” Kousuke said as he packed up the leftovers.

“Wanna join me then?”

Kousuke’s eyebrows raised in excitement. “Hells yes.”

~

After they got dressed, Akaashi checked his phone, and his heart stopped. The Madonna videos had started circulating. He sat on the bed in dumbstruck horror, and Kousuke held him tight, whispering words of comfort and reassurance as he tried not to laugh.

“Hey guys, what’s Keiji’s boyfriend’s like?”

Noya caught the volleyball he and Bokuto had been passing back and forth. They always ended up playing, even hungover. “Dude what?”

“Come on. Just tell me.”

Noya sighed and tossed the ball again. “I don’t know. He’s cool.”

“Have you hung out with him a lot?”

“Not really. Just over FaceTime a couple times. Then a bit last night.”

“Midori?” Bokuto looked at her. She was sitting on the sofa next to them responding to emails.

“He’s really nice Kou,” she said.

Bokuto pursed his lips.

“Why are you asking?”

“I just have to know.”

“What do you wanna know about him?” Noya asked cautiously.

“What’s he like? What does he do?”

“Um…” Noya scratched his head. “He’s a curator for an art gallery. He’s Italian. I guess he’s like super smart. I don’t know. Babe what else?” Noya looked over at Midori.

She inhaled and crossed her arms. “He’s really outgoing. He likes fashion and cooking. He plays the violin. He’s… kinda hippie, kinda boho. He reads a lot.”

“So basically he’s fucking perfect,” Bokuto muttered.

“No. Kou come on,” Midori sighed. “Yes, he’s a cool, interesting guy. But he’s just a guy.”

“He has so many tattoos!” Bokuto continued. “You know Keiji told me not to get any, and now look at him!”

“He told you not to get any because the V. League wouldn’t allow it,” Noya reminded him.

Bokuto ignored that. “Ok tell me something bad about him.”

“Dude. We’re not gonna do that,” Midori said.

“Please?”

“No! I’m not gonna badmouth Keiji’s boyfriend just to make you feel better.”

“Noya?”

Noya rolled his eyes. “Some of his tattoos are kinda stupid. But that’s all I’m giving you.”

“I’m at least better looking than him, right?”

His friends made identical pained faces.

“Ok, you’re both dead to me.”

“Kou,” Midori laughed. “I’m sorry ok! But he’s a good guy, and Keiji really likes him! It sucks, and I’m sorry, but that’s what happened. And I know that this is a super hard situation. I do. But you can’t do this.”

“I know. Dammit. I’m sorry. It’s just… I hate it.”

“Didn’t you hook up with someone last night?” Noya asked.

“Yeah, but that’s just…that. I’m not dating.”

“Do you want to?”

Bokuto shrugged. “Not really.”

“Why not?”

“Who would I date?” Bokuto said. “Also I don’t have time.”

“Kou, you’re a young, successful athlete in one of the country’s biggest cities. Maybe if you tried actually dating people—”

“No,” Bokuto cut Midori off. “It just wouldn’t work.” He couldn’t explain it, but the idea of opening his heart again made him feel sick. Somehow being in love with an ex you could never have again seemed easier. “Maybe I’m not the dating type.”

“Ok,” Midori sighed. “If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. That’s fine. But you just seem unhappy.”

“I’m not!” Bokuto insisted. “My life is great. I have nothing to complain about.”

“Kou,” Noya said. “Bro. Just loosen up. You don’t have to say that shit.”

“I’m not sure anyone’s ever told me to loosen up before,” Bokuto laughed. “They usually say to get it together.”

“That’s cause they don’t know you,” Noya said.

“What do you mean?”

Noya shrugged. “You act so stupid most of the time that no one realizes you’re actually a really intense person.”

“I am?”

“Yeah! Like you work harder than anyone and push yourself more than anyone. You fight harder, play harder. Everything.”

Bokuto sat back and frowned. He hadn’t thought of himself like that before. But it sounded right when he heard it.

“He’s right,” Midori said. “You put a lot of pressure on yourself. To be everything you can be. And you expect everyone else to work just as hard as you do. That’s why you’ve gotten as far as you have, Kou.”

“I guess so. But I don’t know. I mean in high school I was super streaky. Everyone had to make up for me all the time. I feel bad about it now.”

“Well maybe that’s part of it,” Midori countered. “You aren’t that person anymore, and you don’t want to be. Because you also love harder and believe harder than anyone. That’s why it’s so hard for you to be sad. You spend your whole life being the summer sun for everyone else. It’s ok to not be sometimes.”

Bokuto spun the ball in his hands. “Wow,” he said softly. “Kinda weird how well you guys know me. I hadn’t even thought about myself like that.”

“How could we not?” Noya said. “You never shut up.”

Bokuto smiled and tossed the ball back. “It just feels shitty, you know? Why would I want to be unhappy?”

“No one wants to be unhappy,” Midori said. “But it’s inevitable. So you have to deal with it. You used to get super depressed and wait for other people to cheer you up. Now you refuse to acknowledge your feelings at all for fear of inconveniencing others. You’ve overcorrected.”

Bokuto thought as he passed the ball back and forth. He’d always felt that between the two of them, it was Akaashi who had trouble with emotions. And he definitely did, but maybe Bokuto did too. Akaashi had a tendency towards insecurity and depression. So for five years Bokuto had been nervous about upsetting him or overburdening him with his own problems. Meanwhile Akaashi had ignored all his own issues to focus on taking care of Bokuto. Until neither of them could stand it anymore and they’d snap.

What a mess, Bokuto thought. “To be honest, guys, my emotions are terrifying. If I let myself feel my feelings all the time, I’d be the most self-absorbed person in the world.”

“Like I said, you’re super intense,” Noya said. “You feel harder than anyone else too!”

“I don’t wanna be known as some overdramatic mess.”

“You’re not overdramatic Kou,” Midori insisted. “You’re passionate. There’s a difference. And this last year you’ve stunted all that passion. Your life is completely different than it was in college. In so many ways. But you’re processing that in a weird way. You’re channeling all that passion into partying and sleeping around and being obsessed with Keiji. Saturn is trying to return for you. Just let it.”

“Do I look like I know what that means?”

Midori rolled her eyes. “It’s time for a change. Just give in and let yourself grow.”

“Ugh but I don’t wanna!” Bokuto complained.

She smiled. “Don’t worry, you’re definitely still Koutarou. You always will be.”

“So you just want me to be a better Koutarou.”

“Not better. Just more at peace.”

Bokuto shook his head. “What even is peace?”

“You’re really pushing the limits of my wisdom.”

Bokuto grinned. “Fine. Enough self-reflection for today. But thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Noya said as he got into a squat. “Now hit me.”

Bokuto laughed and spiked the ball.

Chapter Text

A few days later Akaashi and Kousuke were sitting in Akaashi’s apartment with Yachi trying on makeup. Midori had dropped off a giant bag of promotional products the day before on her way to the airport. She received a constant influx of PR boxes from brands and usually sent them to Akaashi if she thought he’d like them. She said she’d meant to give them to him at the party, but they’d ended the night in no state to do an exchange of goods.

“What do you think?” Yachi asked. She was trying on two different shades of blush and kept turning her head back and forth so the boys could see.

“Hm,” Kousuke pondered. “I like the peach one. The pink is too dark for your skin.”

“Got it.” Yachi added the peach blush to her pile and passed the pink to Akaashi who was currently applying lash glue.

Kousuke had bright, glittery going-out makeup all around his eyes. He’d tried lots of different colors and looked more like he was coming back in for the night rather than heading out.

“Ya-Chan, there are clothes are in Noya’s room if you wanna try them too,” Akaashi said once his false lashes were secured. He frowned in the mirror as he decided he didn’t like them and pulled them off.

“I guess I’ll try! Thanks!” Yachi stood to head to the bedroom. Midori had also dumped a bunch of sample pieces she’d been sent. She and Yachi were similar sizes, so she’d left them for her.

Yachi returned a few minutes later wearing a long, light-blue, skin tight Dolce and Gabbana dress. Her face was bright red. “This is way too much right? Where would I even wear it?”

“Hitoka, it’s gorgeous!” Kousuke said. “You could wear it when you go out or to big events.”

“I don’t know if that’s smart,” Yachi said. “I never really go out, and my closet isn’t that big.”

“Well, what kind of clothes would you like to add to your wardrobe?”

Yachi looked torn. “Um… maybe… date… clothes?”

Akaashi looked up. He had two shades of lipstick on each side of his mouth. “Wait are you dating someone??”

Yachi was notoriously single. She hadn’t been on a date since high school when she’d dated Yamaguchi for most of their second year.

“Not… not really,” she said in a small voice.

“But you want to?” Kousuke asked.

Yachi nodded. “I think so.”

“That’s awesome! Yeah, let’s update your closet!”

Kousuke pulled Akaashi up, and they went into Noya’s room to look for outfits. They eventually settled on several pieces that flattered Yachi’s small frame and pale skin.

“These are great!” Kousuke said, holding up a pair of wide legged linen pants. “You could wear these with so many tops, even in the summer.”

“Ok,” Yachi nodded as she held the pants to her waist.

Akaashi handed her a tiny, cropped shirt to match. Her eyebrows raised as she saw the neckline.

Akaashi smiled. “Just give it a shot. If you don’t like it, we’ll find something else.”

Yachi steeled herself and took the shirt. She’d been wearing the same style of clothes since middle school. Akaashi knew she’d need a push to start dressing like an adult.

Kousuke found a couple of less ostentatious designer pieces that were understated but still screamed expensive. Yachi tried everything on, and the boys sat back for a mini fashion show and gave the feedback and encouragement of two amateur college models.

An hour later they sat down in the living room again. Yachi was wearing a mid length, sleeveless Dior dress with a floral print.

“So Hitoka,” Kousuke said. “Where do you wanna meet guys? Do you wanna go to clubs, or coffee dates, or try online dating?”

Yachi turned a little red. “Well, to be honest I already tried apps a bit.”

“Wait really??” Akaashi was surprised. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“It’s embarrassing,” Yachi mumbled.

“It’s not embarrassing,” Kousuke said. “Everyone is on apps these days. Which ones are you trying?”

Yachi looked away. “Well… I downloaded Tinder.”

“Oh Ya-chan no…” Akaashi sighed. He’d never tried online dating himself, but he knew Tinder wasn’t the place to start if you actually wanted an actual relationship.

“I know!” Yachi put her face in her hands.

“Well, did you meet someone? Or people?” Kousuke asked hopefully.

Yachi nodded, but her face looked nervous.

Akaashi narrowed his eyes. “What’s that face?”

“I sort of… met a bunch of guys,” she said slowly.

Akaashi and Kousuke frowned. “What do you mean by met?” Akaashi asked followed by Kousuke asking, “what do you mean by bunch?”

“I’ve been on 8 dates.”

“Since when??” Akaashi sputtered.

“Since I downloaded Tinder.”

“Which was…”

“…two weeks ago?”

“Ya-chan,” Akaashi groaned.

“Did any of them go well?” Kousuke asked, ever the optimist.

“I mean…yeah! Sure. I guess. I saw one of the guys twice.”

“Wait so all those other dates were with different guys??”

“Yes,” Yachi squeezed her eyes shut.

“What did you do on them?” Kousuke asked warily.

“Well, usually we met at a restaurant. Or a bar. Then went back to one of our apartments…”

“Ya-chan NO,” Akaashi gasped.

“I know!” She put her whole head under her arms. “It just kept happening!”

“Please define it,” Kousuke murmured.

Yachi did not speak.

“Hitoka, please tell me you didn’t have sex with seven different guys in the space of two weeks.”

“Aahhhuughhhh!” Yachi moaned.

“Ya-chan.” Akaashi calmly laced his fingers together and raised them to his lips. “Explain how this happened.”

“I don’t know!” she cried. “I wanted to start dating again, and then I kept matching with people, and after it happened the first time, I just kept thinking ‘well might as well!’ and next thing I knew we were here!”

“Oh my god,” Kousuke looked shocked. “I’ve done some dumb shit but this is… I mean holy shit Hitoka.”

“Please tell me you at least like…used condoms and stuff,” Akaashi awkwardly groaned into his hands. “Do we have to get you STI tested?”

“No! I mean yes, I did! Condoms, not STI testing. Oh my god this is so embarrassing!” Yachi fully curled into a ball on the floor.

“This is why people need to date more,” Kousuke mused. “You go long enough with nothing and this happens.”

Yachi responded with incoherent whimpers.

“You don’t have to answer, but when was the last time you actually slept with someone?” Kousuke asked.

“Four years,” Yachi said quietly. “Not since high school.”

“Wow, that’s a long time with no sex,” Kousuke said. “I take it back, I can’t blame you that much.”

“Wait only four?” Akaashi asked. He was pretty sure it had been longer than that since she and Yamaguchi broke up, and he hadn’t heard about anyone else.

“Yeah,” Yachi admitted. “I hooked up with Hinata right before we graduated.”

“WHAT??” Akaashi shouted, then quickly collected himself. “You never told me that.”

“Yeah. It just kinda happened. Only the one time. We never dated.”

“Ya-chan…” Akaashi sighed. “I think you might have some problems. In the dating department.”

“I know. I do really want a boyfriend though.”

“Well, this probably isn’t the best way to go about finding one.”

“It’s hard Aka-kun! Not all of us just meet people in coffee shops!” Yachi sat up and crossed her arms.

“Do you want me to introduce you to someone?” Kousuke volunteered. “I have some single straight friends.”

“Ok!” Yachi said eagerly, her face brightening.

“Tell them they’re not allowed to bone her on the first date,” Akaashi said.

“Keiji, oh my god!” Kousuke scolded. “If Hitoka wants to fuck let her fuck. Put it here bitch!” Kousuke gave her a high five, and Akaashi rolled his eyes.

~

“Hitoka this is tragic.”

Kousuke was looking through Yachi’s Tinder profile. It featured several basic photos, most of them from high school.

“Ok, I’ll get new pictures!” She said. “But I don’t have any.”

“Then we’ll take some!” Kousuke offered.

“He does take great photos,” Akaashi said. “Actually Ya-chan, I bet Midori has some too. I’ll text her.”

He pulled out his phone and typed, Hey do you have any good pictures of Ya-chan? We’re updating her dating app profiles.

Midori FaceTimed him back instantly.

“Oh my god.” Midori looked nearly as intense as Bokuto did before games, and Akaashi started to worry this was a mistake. “Ok, tell me more. Hitoka. What vibe are you going for?” Midori started looking around as if that would make Akaashi point his phone at Yachi.

“I don’t know!” Yachi answered, embarrassed. “Nice, cute, girlfriend material?”

“Ok great. You’re gonna look so good. Lemme see what I have.” Midori started checking her phone for pictures.

“I was gonna take some too if you can’t find any now!” Kousuke said, coming up behind Akaashi and resting his chin on his shoulder.

“We really don’t have to do it now,” Yachi said weakly.

“No it’s perfect!” Kousuke encouraged. “Since we have the makeup and outfits here and everything.”

Midori gasped. “Oh. My. God. I love that. Yes! Hitoka show me what you’re wearing!” Midori had gone into full manager mode.

Yachi sighed and stepped on camera to show her the dress.

“You’re literally so pretty. Oh my god. This is gonna be amazing. Kousuke, do you have a photoshoot location in mind?”

“What about the corner on the south side of the building?” Kousuke said. “Where that little tree is. I’ve taken pictures of Keiji there before, and they turned out really good.”

“Yes! Perfect! And it’s golden hour there right now, so the lighting will be great. This is amazing. Literally meant to be! Hitoka, you’re gonna look so good!”

“It doesn’t have to be that good!” Yachi protested again. “It’s just a picture.”

“Ok Kousuke,” Midori said. “What I’m hearing is that it has to happen right this second. And it needs to be the best picture you’ve ever taken.”

“I can do it,” he said, just as seriously. “Let’s go.”

Akaashi laughed under his breath and shot Yachi a sympathetic look. She wasn’t getting out of this one.

~

“Hitoka that looks so good! You’re so beautiful! Now do one with your hand on your hip. Gorgeous! Keiji, go move that piece of her hair back.” Kousuke was taking pictures on his phone.

“Ugh I’m so awkward!” Yachi whined. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Yes you do. You look amazing. I’m not even having to try right now; you just take great pictures. Like I don’t think I’ll even need to edit them. And we were right, this spot is perfect!”

Akaashi couldn’t stop smiling. Kousuke was so good at this. He complimented her so openly and abundantly without ever sounding disingenuous. It was a true talent. Akaashi watched Yachi slowly gain more confidence as he encouraged her. He gave her suggestions for what to do with her arms and face and gushed with each photo he took until Yachi couldn’t stop smiling either.

In fifteen minutes they were back inside, and Midori was FaceTimed, and the photos were sent.

“Ok Hitoka, I’m just doing a few edits,” Midori said. “But literally these are so gorgeous they don’t even need them. So I’ll just fix a couple flyaways and maybe add more hair volume, but that’s literally it. You look stunning.”

“Doesn’t she??” Kousuke added. “Hitoka, these are great, and I didn’t even do anything! They already look edited. But that’s just you, that’s how good you look. What do you mean you can’t pose!”

Yachi was blushing and begging them to stop, but she also looked very pleased. Akaashi handed her a glass of iced tea and told her it was pointless. He sat down next to Kousuke and rested his cheek on his shoulder.

After Midori was done with her edits, she sent them back to Kousuke so he could work on the lighting and deleting a fire alarm off the wall in the background. Neither stopped making comments about how beautiful Yachi was the whole time.

Akaashi briefly considered the idea that he had managed to fall in love with the male version of his best friend, but quickly dismissed it. Both were intelligent, artistic, too giving, and more than a little vain. But Midori was more intense and goal oriented. She got things done and was confident in her abilities. Kousuke was a dreamer. He stayed true to his feelings and needed someone to steer him in the right directions or he’d flounder in a sea of hidden meanings. Both of them brought out Akaashi’s inner depths. Both made him think less and feel more. Both charmed out of him the key to his heart.

He smiled to himself, grateful that he’d found such incredible people. He smiled at Yachi too. Unlike Midori and Kousuke, she fully understood his neuroticism and deep-rooted introversion.

“Ok, Hitoka, which of these is your favorite?” Kousuke scooted closer to Yachi, and Akaashi rolled his eyes when his head slipped off his shoulder. “I’ll send you all of them, but we’ll put the best ones on your profile.”

“Hmm,” Yachi blushed as she took the phone from him. “Wow they’re all so good… you guys are amazing.”

“Hitoka, I told you it’s all you! We are just bringing out what is already there!” Midori’s voice came out of the phone.

“Ok… I like this one.” Yachi pointed at a photo.

“I love that one!” Kousuke eagerly agreed. “Any others?”

Between the three of them, they soon had Yachi set up on Bumble and Hinge with stellar profiles and bios. Akaashi and Kousuke also promised to set her up with some of their straight friends. Midori offered to mention her to some big names in the music industry, but Yachi quickly shook her head no. One famous friend was all she could handle.

~

Once that was done, Midori had to go, so Kousuke, Akaashi, and Yachi packed up all the makeup and sample pieces and went out for dinner.

Akaashi was put in charge of holding Yachi’s phone so she couldn’t obsessively check it during the evening. But he felt a little smile appear on his face every time it buzzed in his pocket. Yachi was one of his favorite people. He hoped she found someone who would be able to see just how amazing she was. In the meantime, he’d be there to make sure she had some confidence in herself and made it safely back to her apartment every night.

Akaashi had so little dating experience himself that he didn’t feel qualified to give her any real advice, but he held Kousuke’s hand while his outgoing boyfriend recounted some of his best and worst date stories. Akaashi laughed and shook his head in affection. They were the same age, but Kousuke had lived so much more life in 23 years. Akaashi’s own world had seemingly doubled in size just by dating him.

That night they gave Yachi back her phone after setting up a reasonable daily time limit on her new apps. She nervously checked her notifications and got their opinion on which ones to match with before heading home for the evening.

“Hey,” Akaashi said after she left. “Thanks for everything today.”

Kousuke turned and raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Thanks for helping her. It was very impressive.”

Kousuke smiled. “Thanks caro. It was fun for me too.”

“I could tell,” Akaashi said with a light smile. “I like watching you have fun.”

“You’re so cute.”

Akaashi shook his head with a giggle. “You’re cute.”

Kousuke put his arms around Akaashi’s neck. “I love you, Keiji.”

“I love you too.”

They kissed, and Akaashi held him tight.

“Hey,” Kousuke murmured. “Feel like fucking me tonight?”

Akaashi breathed out. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

They went to Akaashi’s room and threw their clothes to the ground. Kousuke lay back so Akaashi could climb over him. As he pressed inside him, Akaashi couldn’t help the groans that came out of his throat. He kissed Kousuke furiously as he started to move.

“I love you… fuck I love you so much…”

Kousuke gasped out a response, and Akaashi buried into him deeper. It felt so good. It felt impossible.

His thoughts got wilder as his breath grew ragged. Love me forever. Don’t leave me. Let’s be like this always. Stay stay stay.

Kousuke cried out his name, and Akaashi held him tighter. Don’t stop! I’ll always love you. Love me too. Love me like this my whole life. Please. Let this last forever.

“Kousuke!” He said aloud. “Love you! You’re perfect!”

“I love you! Love you so much!”

Akaashi cried out as he started to reach his peak. He still couldn’t understand what Kousuke saw in him. It didn’t make sense.

“I’m gonna cum baby!” He gasped and locked his arms around him. Feeling if he held him this tight, if he came inside him like this, then Kousuke would always be his. Would always want him and love him too. Akaashi came with a loud moan and final plea. You’re mine. You can’t leave me. I need you. Need me too! I’ll make you need me just as much…

Akaashi panted into the pillow by Kousuke’s head. He felt a hand come up to stroke his hair. Talented fingers playing up and down his spine like a rare violin.

Without pulling out he reached between them to stroke Kousuke. He needed to make him cum too. Kousuke whimpered as Akaashi’s hand found a rhythm.

“Amore, amore… Cuore mio! Ti amo ti amo! Non fermarti Keiji!”

Akaashi let the foreign words wash over him. He couldn’t believe he could send this man back to his native language with his body alone. It was too much. He leaned down and whispered into his ear, “Ti amo Kousuke. Per sempre.” He knew his accent was likely awful. But he did his best to make the meaning clear. It must have worked, because Kousuke gasped and came into his hand saying the words back. I love you for all time.

It sounded so much smoother on his tongue, and Akaashi shuddered into him. I don’t deserve you… he thought. Tell me how to keep you with me. I need to be better. I need to be so much better for you. I can’t ever lose you.

“Where did you learn to say that?” Kousuke sighed.

“I looked it up,” Akaashi admitted. “To say to you.”

Kousuke kissed his shoulder and spoke a long string of words in Italian, far more than Akaashi could understand, but with enough passion that he could feel their meaning in his heart. Kousuke loved him too. And it was shattering his mind. In that moment Akaashi thought he would do anything. Anything in the world for the miracle in his arms. Anything to keep this going. Kousuke was the most important thing in his life. He’d be anything. And nothing else mattered.

Chapter Text

The summer passed uneventfully. Bokuto traveled with the National Team again, and Akaashi continued to work in Tokyo. The hot, sticky days passed them both in bliss.

Bokuto had another incredible summer playing volleyball with his friends on the biggest international stages. He was getting better all the time and generating so much positive press that his personal fan base almost doubled. He was a player that the whole team relied on. Not just for his spikes, but his spirit as well. He was known for his unwavering joy and enthusiasm. And everyone was in love with him, from the crowds to his teammates to everybody he took home. And he was happy. With Atsumu and Hinata at his side, he lived out his dreams, and it was better than he could have imagined.

Akaashi spent his time with Kousuke, falling more in love every day. His job was going well too. Tenma’s volleyball manga had impressed their supervisors enough to confirm a new series, and now Akaashi could experience the joy of pouring work into a project he was passionate about. Everything was wonderful.

Until one morning in early August while Akaashi was sat at Kousuke’s kitchen table. Kousuke was sitting on the sofa on his own computer when suddenly he set it down, stood up, and walked over to Akaashi. He had an unfamiliar look on his face. He looked tense and nervous, two things he almost never was.

“Keiji,” he started slowly. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Akaashi frowned, a nervous tremor starting in his chest. “Yeah of course. What is it?”

Kousuke sat at the table. He wouldn’t look Akaashi in the eye. Akaashi started to sweat. “Hey. What is it?”

“Um,” Kousuke rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “My work visa expires October 1st.”

“Oh!” Akaashi felt a hint of relief. He wasn’t being dumped. At least not yet. “Do…do you need help renewing or something?”

Kousuke winced, and Akaashi’s heart picked back up again. “Actually I…I was thinking I might…not.”

Oh…

“Wh…” Akaashi stuttered. “Why not?”

Kousuke finally looked at him. He looked scared. “Keiji, I…I never meant to stay in Japan. I always figured I’d go back after college. Then I stayed another year. Now I’m about to commit to even more, and I just…I don’t know.”

Akaashi’s heart stopped. “You…you wanna go back to Italy?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “I think I do.”

“Oh,” Akaashi breathed. “Oh.”

“But I also don’t want to! I’ve been trying to decide for months, but I have to file these forms in a few weeks. I’ve been putting it off because it’s really scary to think about. But I’m out of time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Akaashi asked even though he knew the answer. Kousuke wasn’t great at dealing with tough situations. He’d procrastinate until things got out of hand and then have a breakdown trying to figure it out. He tried so hard to make everything so easy for other people that he wasn’t used to things not being made easy for him. When things didn’t work out, he would just pivot and do something else. But this wasn’t something he could get out of.

Kousuke looked at him sadly. “Because you’re the reason I’d stay.”

Akaashi put his head in his arms. This was too much information to process so suddenly. “Am…am I the only reason?”

“Yes. No. Mostly. I don’t know! I’ve liked it here. I did! But I wanna go home. I’ve been here for over five years, and it’s never really felt like home.”

“I see…” Akaashi felt like he was dreaming. Or falling off a cliff.

“Also, I think I wanna go back to school. You know I’ve talked about getting my doctorate before, and the more I think about it the more I wanna do it now. But I don’t wanna do it in Japan. I keep finding myself going back to look at programs, and they’re all in Europe.”

“Ok…” Akaashi’s vision was blurring. He’d always encouraged Kousuke to pursue higher education thinking he was helping him. Now he was kicking himself.

“And I have no family here, and I miss them a lot, and I think they’re starting to get worried I won’t go back. My little sister is about to start her last year of high school, and thats crazy because I’ve barely seen her since she was a kid, and that really just breaks my heart. I just…I’m sorry Keiji.” Kousuke put his head in his hands. Once he’d started talking, the words had just spilled out.

Akaashi breathed slowly trying to keep from panicking. “No. No, it’s ok. I get it, I really do. Um. Fuck.” He put his face in his hands and tried to get his rational mind to kick back into gear. Calm down. Just think. We need a plan. “Ok. How much longer do you have to decide?”

“Two weeks,” Kousuke said in a small voice.

“Shit… Kousuke… are you serious??” This was even worse than Akaashi thought. Two weeks was ridiculous. He was gonna kill him.

“I’m so sorry! I wanted to tell you everyday! I just couldn’t.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I know.” Kousuke winced.

“But I want you to be happy. I know…I know you don’t like it here.”

“That isn’t totally true.”

“Do you have a…pro con list or anything?”

Kousuke almost laughed. “That is so you. And so not me.”

“Do you want me to help you make one?”

“I already know it hon,” Kousuke reached out and rubbed his cheek. “It’s pro Japan: Keiji. Pro Italy: everything else.”

“What…what about the con side?” Akaashi knew that was a pointless question, but he asked it anyway.

“Keiji come on. Just flip it. That’s the list.”

Akaashi let out a shuddering breath. “Ok. I see. So…you’d start school in a year, right?”

“Yeah. I still have to apply and everything.”

Akaashi nodded. “So, could you stay here until then? Renew your visa now and then just go back when the program starts?” Kousuke didn’t say anything. Akaashi looked up and saw he looked close to tears. “Kousuke?”

“I don’t know Keiji. I want to. I do. But it’s not just about school. I’m sorry… I don’t wanna sound like some homesick kid, but… I know it’s stupid.”

Akaashi grabbed Kousuke’s hand across the table. “It’s not stupid! Of course you wanna go home. I get that…” he trailed off, unsure what else to say.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” Kousuke murmured as he stared at their joined hands. “I wish I could stay with you. I wish that was what I wanted. It is what I want. I love you so much, Keiji! But…”

“I don’t wanna lose you either!” Akaashi exclaimed. He squeezed his hands harder. “And we don’t have to! We could do long distance, right? People do that!”

Kousuke’s gaze shot up to meet his eyes. There was a glimmer of hope there. “You want to?”

Akaashi nodded emphatically. “Yes. Yes I do. I don’t wanna lose you.” His mind was still reeling. This had happened so fast.

Kousuke got up and hugged him. “It’s a really, really long distance. But I think we can do it.”

Akaashi squeezed him back. “We can. I believe it.”

Kousuke pulled his chair closer so he could sit and lean his forehead against Akaashi’s. “I…I haven’t actually decided yet. I just wanted to talk about it. I felt so guilty that I hadn’t said anything. I was just so scared to bring it up.”

“It’s ok. I get it. Thank you for telling me now.”

“I still have two weeks to decide for sure. I’ll…I’ll keep thinking.”

Akaashi nodded. “I love you. I want to be with you. But I also want you to be happy. Do what’s…do what you think is best for you. We can keep talking about it.”

Kousuke kissed him, and Akaashi poured his whole self into it. Everything Kousuke made him feel. Love and hope and desperation. He climbed out of his chair and into Kousuke’s lap.

“What can I do?” He asked, holding him close. “How can I help you?”

Kousuke pressed his face into Akaashi’s chest. “Can you just be normal? I wanna live in denial a little longer. Until the last second.”

“I’m not very good at that,” Akaashi whispered.

“I know,” Kousuke murmured, nuzzling against his neck. “You’re an over-thinking, over-planning, future-obsessed anal retentive. And I love you so much.”

“You’re a procrastinating, free-spirited, open-hearted dreamer. And I love you too.”

~

Two weeks went by, and Kousuke didn’t renew. He gave his notice at the gallery, and Akaashi helped him pack up his apartment and start mailing his things back to his parents’ house. They lived in the mountains of northern Italy, an hour outside of Milan. Kousuke had shown him pictures. It was beautiful.

He moved his remaining things into Akaashi’s place, and for the next month they tried to spend every second they could with each other. It was a month of deep conversations and shared dreams and holding each other tight.

On the last night, Akaashi lay down, and Kousuke bent over him with a needle dipped in ink. “Are you sure?” He breathed.

Akaashi nodded. “Yes.”

Kousuke bent forward and poked the needle into the skin over Akaashi’s heart. Akaashi ignored the pain and stared up at the boy he loved and memorized the details of his face as he concentrated on his work.

When he finished, Akaashi took a shaking breath and looked down at the Latin words etched permanently into his skin.

Alter idem***

“Are you ok?” Kousuke asked.

“Yes. I love you.”

“I love you,” Kousuke said back, and he kissed Akaashi’s forehead.

When the bandage had been placed, they switched places, and Akaashi stilled his shaking hands enough to write “Tamquam” on Kousuke’s chest in the same place. He had practiced for a week on orange peels before feeling confident enough to put the needle to skin. Kousuke had wanted it in his handwriting.

Tamquam alter idem. As if a second self. 

~

On September 15th they went to the airport. Akaashi wanted to go with him to see his home before they said the final goodbye. It was also their one-year anniversary. So they gave up the last two weeks of Kousuke’s visa to spend it in Italy together. Akaashi had cancelled all his in-person meetings for the next month. He told his boss they could video call him, but he wouldn’t be in the office. “What are they gonna do, fire me?” He’d told Kousuke as he sent the emails. “Place would fucking fall apart.”

Over the next two weeks Akaashi swam in the Mediterranean. He hiked Mt. Vesuvius. He went to Rome and saw the beautiful ruins. He rode in a gondola in Venice. He took lactaid pills and ate pizza and gelato. He understood why Kousuke loved Italy. When he saw his eyes light up and the way he spoke to the people, Akaashi saw that he belonged there. And that part he tried not to think about.

On the morning of the 21st, he opened Instagram and saw his friends posting pictures from a party. It looked like a blowout. They were all captioned ‘Happy birthday Koutarou!’ Akaashi blinked and checked the date. Huh, he said to himself. Look at that.

Bokuto had turned 25 the day before, and he hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t thought about it at all.

Akaashi scrolled slowly through the pictures. In them he saw Bokuto smiling and laughing and celebrating with all their old friends. Akaashi found himself smiling too. Bokuto looked happy, and Akaashi realized that made him happy. It was a strange feeling, but not unwelcome. He clicked to Bokuto’s profile and scrolled through the recent posts. He didn’t follow him anymore, so he’d missed a lot of the news from the last few months. But as he saw his ex-boyfriend’s achievements and his blinding smile, Akaashi was only proud. He didn’t feel jealousy or anxiety or anger. And he was relieved.

I’m happy for him, Akaashi thought. I hope he’s happy. He deserves to be happy.

With that peaceful thought, he smiled and closed the app. He walked out to where Kousuke was waiting on the balcony of their hotel in Capri, with coffee and pastries and a smile warm enough to put the beautiful view to shame.

“Oh my god. This is fucking awful. I hate everything.” Atsumu Miya was lying on Bokuto’s sofa with a hot pack pressed to his face.

“Dude, stop talking you’re making it worse!” Hinata fretted.

“Hrrnnnnngggn,” Atsumu groaned through clenched teeth. At Bokuto’s birthday party the night before, he had drunkenly tried to prove he could bite into three of Osamu’s onigiri at once and promptly locked his jaw.

Bokuto couldn’t stop laughing. Atsumu was so easy to laugh at. “It’ll get better soon, just keep massaging it.”

“Shouyou!” Atsumu sat up a little. “How long does it take for this to get better?”

“Huh?”

“You said this happened to you before, right?”

“Uhh yeah. Usually a day or so? But I don’t know, it varies. I had to see a dentist once.”

“Dude, how often has this happened to you?? What are you doing?”

Hinata just stared while Bokuto laughed incredulously at Atsumu.

“What??” Atsumu shouted. “Do you chew food wrong or something.”

“No…” Hinata hesitated. “It’s from…”

“It’s from sucking dick you idiot!” Bokuto cackled.

“WHAT???” Atsumu shot straight up. His jaw popped as he shouted, and it opened it too wide. He slapped the hot pack back on and flopped back down. “Oh fuck. That hurt. But what the hell, are you serious??”

“Yeah!” Hinata shouted back in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“That happens??”

“Yes it happens!”

Atsumu turned to look at Bokuto. “Bokkun. You’re fucking with me, right. Does that actually happen?”

“Yes!” Bokuto laughed.

“It’s happened to you?”

“Yes!”

“Oh my god…” Atsumu stared at the ceiling looking like his life had permanently shifted. “That’s insane.”

“Think about how big you have to open your mouth!” Bokuto tried to explain. “And for how long! Your muscles get tired! And then it’s just like ckkk! and locked!”

“Holy shit! For how long? What do you do?”

“Usually like a night,” Hinata jumped back in. “And you just tell them ‘Sorry I gotta stop...’”

“Well yeah you gotta stop!!!” Atsumu exclaimed. “Are you kidding me???”

“I’m dying!” Bokuto gasped out. “How did you not know this??”

“Samu!” Atsumu shouted at his brother as the other twin emerged from the kitchen. “Did you know you can get lock jaw from sucking dick?”

“What the fuck are you guys talking about in here…?” Osamu shot a wary, confused look around the room.

“Shouyou and Bokkun have both locked their jaws by sucking dick, and they’re trying to convince me it’s common knowledge. It’s not, right? You haven’t heard that?”

“Tsumu…” Osamu gave his brother a scathing look. “That and tetanus are the only things I do know it from.”

“WHAT??” Atsumu yelled as Bokuto howled. “I feel like I’m not the weird one here! I’ve literally never heard that before!”

“Dude,” Osamu said. “All you’re doing right now is telling us how little you’ve gotten your dick sucked.”

“HEY!!! I get it plenty.”

“We all know you’re lying.”

Bokuto went to the kitchen while Atsumu kept trying to defend himself. This was a pretty standard level of conversation amongst the members of MSBY. He was sad Sakusa wasn’t there. But Bokuto’s birthday parties weren’t the type of event an antisocial germaphobe was interested in. And the rest of them knew better than to push him. Besides maybe Atsumu.

Bokuto sat at the counter and ate leftovers from the breakfast Osamu had made for all of them. He pulled out his phone. The desperate part of his brain had held out hope that Akaashi might show up last night. He hadn’t of course. Bokuto hadn’t invited him, and none of his friends were that stupid. He’d mentioned it to Kuroo after a few drinks and been informed that Akaashi was in fact in Italy with his boyfriend. He’d had a lot more drinks after that.

He pulled up Kousuke’s Instagram page and tortured himself by looking at a post from the day before. They were in Capri, and Akaashi looked tanned and beautiful and extremely happy. He could tell Kousuke must be a pretty good photographer, because every photo of Akaashi looked well thought out and framed with intention. Although Akaashi had enough experience behind the camera that he always looked good in pictures to begin with.

Bokuto tried not to be too jealous. When they’d been together, Akaashi had never let him post that type of picture of him. He stopped himself from looking at Kousuke’s story, knowing his name might appear if he decided to check viewers. Not that it probably would have mattered. Kousuke had close to 4000 followers. Because of course he did. Meanwhile Akaashi’s account was private, and Bokuto didn’t follow him anymore. Not that he ever posted anyway. Bokuto closed his phone, swallowed the last of his food, and went back to the living room.

“I don’t know why you’re asking me,” Hinata was saying. “Koutarou-san sucks way more dick than I do.”

“You talking ‘bout me?” Bokuto asked as he kicked Atsumu’s feet off the couch and sat down.

“He wants to know if there’s tricks to making it not happen,” Hinata explained.

“Oh. I don’t know, it’s only happened to me twice.”

“Really?” Hinata asked. “I feel like I do it a lot.”

“Then I think you’re sucking dick wrong,” Bokuto said.

“Well you are the expert.”

“The dick-sucking expert?” Osamu asked sarcastically.

“Yeah, he’s the best!” Hinata confirmed.

His friends stared at him, waiting for him to realize what he’d just said.

“Wait!” Hinata sputtered. “I’m not speaking from experience! I’ve just heard! From others!”

They continued to stare.

“Ok look, the gay community here is not that big!” Hinata explained. “I’ve heard things! People talk!”

Bokuto snorted.

“Bokkun,” Atsumu groaned. “How much dick have you sucked that you’ve literally made a name for yourself as the best dick-sucker in Osaka?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t counted!”

“Enough for it to get back to Hinata apparently,” Osamu deadpanned.

“I don’t know why,” Atsumu said. “But for some reason it makes me very uncomfortable knowing that my two best friends have probably hooked up with a lot of the same people.”

Hinata and Bokuto exchanged a glance. They had not considered this.

“I mean for real,” Atsumu went on. “Bokkun does it not bother you that when you put a dick in your mouth there’s a good chance that dick has been inside Shouyou’s asshole?”

Bokuto shrugged. “Not unless it bothers Shouyou that whenever he eats ass there’s a good chance my dick has been in there first.”

Hinata choked on his tea. “Oh my god…” Atsumu pressed the hot pack closer to his face. Bokuto gave a wicked grin. Atsumu was unendingly fun to tease.

Just then they heard a throat clear by the doorway and looked up to see Sakusa standing there looking like he wanted to kill himself.

“Omiii!!!” They all shouted. Bokuto and Hinata raised their arms in the air.

“This is why I don’t come here,” Sakusa muttered. “Happy birthday.” He tossed a small present at Bokuto who snatched it out of the air.

“Thanks man!” Bokuto turned it over in his hands. “Want me to open it now?”

“Whatever you want,” Sakusa sighed. “I’m leaving.” He padded his way back out the door.

“Bye Omiiiii!!!” They all yelled after him.

When the door closed Bokuto set the present down and said, “Ok, I’ll admit that was an unfortunate moment for him to walk in. I apologize.”

The others nodded in agreement.

After a pause, Atsumu asked, “Do we talk about dick too much?”

“For a guy who claims to be straight, you do talk about dick an awful lot,” Bokuto said.

“My two best friends are bi and super slutty, what do you expect?”

“Ok fair enough.”

“Maybe you should try sucking dick too,” Osamu suggested. “Might have better luck.”

Atsumu threw the hot pack at him.

Chapter Text

Midori called Bokuto that afternoon. He was attempting to clean up after the party, but motivation was very low, so the call was a good excuse to take a break.

“Hey Midori,” he answered, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he stuffed a stack of plastic cups into the trash. A few fell out, and he didn’t bother to pick them up before jumping over the back of his couch to lie down.

“Hey Kou! Happy birthdaayyyy!”

Bokuto chuckled. “It was yesterday, man.”

“I know I know! But I was stuck in meetings, and by the time I was free I knew you were probably wasted, so I waited till today. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“Dude it’s 5 PM what do you think of me?”

“Sorry, sorry just making sure! How was your party? I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.”

“Don’t worry about it. And it was good! Pretty tame compared to yours.”

“Oh god…” Bokuto could hear Midori rolling her eyes, and he grinned. “Well I’m glad for you there. Do you feel older?”

“Not yet.”

“You’re 25 now. No quarter life crisis?”

“Holding off so far.”

“Then I guess you’ll live past 100.”

“That’s still the plan.”

“I believe in you,” Midori said. “So how you been? It’s been a while.”

Bokuto took a big breath and looked up at the ceiling. “Good! Summer was crazy, but that’s normal. Just got back from a tournament in Poland. We played so well man! Weren’t able to cinch the win, but still, I’m happy. Hinata is CRAZY on the court. We had him start in our game with Germany, and they did not see him coming!” Bokuto gave her a step-by-step replay of the matches. Thanks to being with Nishinoya since high school, she had a pretty good understanding of how volleyball worked. She also knew that getting Bokuto to stop talking about volleyball was practically impossible.

“That’s great Kou, I’m happy for you!”

“Thanks! Dude, it was such a good summer! Atsumu and Omi…” he went on to describe what an amazing duo those two were. Bokuto really loved the international season. “We're for sure going to the Olympics! Qualifiers are in November, and if we play as well as we did the last few months then I think we’ll be in a good seed. You got tickets right??”

“I will I will,” Midori laughed. “As soon as I can.”

Bokuto rambled about his games and teammates for a while longer before asking, “What about you, how are things?”

“Things are good. Yuu is in Romania. I think. Maybe Bulgaria, I can’t quite remember. I’m in LA but flying to New York tomorrow. Album is basically done just needs a little postproduction work.”

“Sick! When will it come out?”

“Oh not for a couple months at least. This industry is unbelievably slow.”

“Cool. Send it to me when you can!”

“Will do!”

“Damn it’s kinda crazy. You’re in America, Noya is in Europe, I just got back from traveling for months. Even Keiji is in Italy, I saw. Apartment 7C is everywhere these days!

Midori laughed. “I guess so!”

“Is Keiji visiting Kousuke’s family?”

“Oh. Yeah. He’ll be there another week or so. Uh, Kousuke’s actually moving back there, so he’s helping.”

“Oh,” Bokuto’s heart leapt a bit. “Like permanently?”

“That’s the plan right now,” she confirmed. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bokuto said. “Uh. Guess that kinda sucks for Keiji.”

Midori paused before answering. “Yeah. I don’t know, he seems ok? But you know Keiji, it’s hard to tell.”

“Yeah.” Bokuto both very much wanted to keep talking and also immediately stop talking about his ex, so he changed the subject. “When you coming back?”

“December,” Midori said. “For Kenma’s thing.” Kenma was being forced to host a launch party for some new project he’d been working on.

“Oh right! By the way can I stay with you for that? I haven’t found a place to crash for the night yet.”

Midori chuckled. “Yes, of course, I figured you would.”

“Cool. So—” Bokuto broke off because his phone started ringing. “Oh look at that, Noya’s calling.”

“You can answer,” Midori said. It’s like 2 AM here, I should go to sleep anyway. Happy birthday! Love you!”

“Thanks, you too! Bye!”

Bokuto hung up and answered Noya’s call. “Yooooooooooooo!”

“Yoooooooooooo!” Noya responded.

On the first of October, Kousuke took Akaashi home to Milan to meet his family. They were greeted at the door by his siblings and parents who hugged them tight and cried. Akaashi tried his best to say ‘hello’ and ‘nice to meet you’ in Italian. He’d been trying to learn.

His heart fluttered a bit when he saw Kousuke tear up as he held his siblings tight. They all flocked around him. As if they’d been missing the cornerstone of themselves and could finally be whole again. Kousuke looked right with them. He looked where he was supposed to be.

That evening Akaashi came to see that the other kids had clearly not taken Japanese school as seriously as Kousuke had. Either that or his fluency only came from his years of living there. He had five siblings. An older brother and sister and a younger brother and two younger sisters who all did their best to communicate with Akaashi. They managed to get across that they had been dying to meet him, but there was a serious barrier for any actual conversation. So Akaashi mostly spoke to his parents.

“We’re so happy Lapo is home,” his mother said with tears in her eyes as they cleaned up from dinner. “It’s been so long.”

“Yes,” Akaashi smiled. He’d offered to help clean. “He’s happy to be back.”

“And thank you for coming, Keiji! We’ve heard so much about you!”

“Of course! You as well. Kous—, er, Lapo talks about you a lot. I know he really misses you.”

“He’s a good boy,” his mother said as she looked at her son playing around with his siblings. “We were worried about him for a while there. In high school he kept floundering around and couldn’t decide on anything to do. When he told us he was going to Japan, we almost didn’t let him go. But I’m glad it all worked out in the end.”

“Yeah,” Akaashi said quietly. “Yeah, it did.”

~

Next came Kousuke’s friends. They went to a welcome back get together at one of their houses, and Akaashi came to see what an Italian dinner gathering is really like. The answer was loud. They all sat around a long table covered in food, and the whole house seemed to be yelling at each other and over each other with their whole bodies.

Kousuke was on cloud nine. He was telling stories and making jokes and hugging his friends, and his voice was at a volume that, to Akaashi, seemed twice as loud as it was when he lived in Japan. But he was still Kousuke. Kind and happy and caring; and Akaashi could tell from the way they looked at him that these friends loved him infinitely.

Kousuke seemed to fall naturally into the role of holding people together. Akaashi had seen it with his family, and he’d also seen it in their friend group back in Tokyo. People were drawn to him in a way that Akaashi couldn’t rationalize but could only feel. He wondered if it was the same for this group of friends he’d left in Italy. Had they been incomplete without him too?

Kousuke was doing his best to make sure Akaashi felt included, even though he didn’t know anyone and didn’t speak the language, translating as much as he could and trying to interpret jokes. Akaashi was grateful, but he felt bad. He wanted Kousuke to be able to simply enjoy the night with his friends without worrying about his awkward, antisocial boyfriend. They all seemed like good people as far as Akaashi could tell.

Later in the night, Akaashi was sitting in the corner having found a brief, quiet respite amongst the yelling. One of Kousuke’s friends came over and sat next to him.

“Konichiwa!” She said awkwardly.

Akaashi smiled back. “Ciao.”

“Nice!” She gave him a thumbs up, and Akaashi nodded his thanks.

“Um. No Italian at all?” She asked slowly.

Akaashi replayed the sentence in his head a few times, trying to remember what little of the language he’d crammed into his head in the last month. “Uh. No. Sorry?” He tried to apologize.

She laughed a little. “Bene bene!” Good good!

Akaashi laughed too. This was painful.

“English?” She asked.

Akaashi breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes! A little,” he said in English. “But not very good either.”

“Same with me. But better than Japanese. Or your Italian.”

They managed to talk a bit about how the trip had been and a bit about Kousuke. Or rather Lapo as Akaashi tried to remember. The name felt foreign on his tongue. Like he was talking about a different person whom he didn’t really know at all.

It was well into the night when they left, and Akaashi’s social battery had been empty for hours. But he didn’t have the heart to let Kousuke know that.

“Thank you for coming, love,” Kousuke whispered to him as they rode back to his parents’ house in a taxi. He was a little drunk. Italians really liked wine.

“Of course. I’m glad you had fun.” Akaashi was not drunk. He’d been too anxious to risk losing any bit of his inhibitions.

“Did you have fun too?”

“Yeah. I did.”

Kousuke pressed his face into Akaashi’s neck. “Are you lying? You’re lying, aren’t you? I’m sorry.”

“No. Really. It was good to see you so happy. Your friends all seem nice.”

“Grazie amore,” Kousuke said into his throat as his eyes closed. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Akaashi hugged him and kissed his head. He had hoped the anxious feeling would fade once they were alone, but it was still pressing on his heart. He squeezed him tighter, as if that would keep him there.

~

A few days later, once Kousuke was all settled, it was time to go. Akaashi gripped his boyfriend’s hand tight as they walked into the airport. He checked in his suitcase, and they made their way towards security.

Kousuke reminded him of a couple Italian phrases he should know to successfully get through onto the airplane. Akaashi repeated them as best he could. He had most of it already written down on a piece of paper in his pocket. And he was in too much emotional turmoil to really memorize anything anyway.

Outside the security checkpoint, Kousuke turned and wrapped his arms around Akaashi. Akaashi squeezed him back. He was trying his best not to cry.

“It’s ok,” Kousuke whispered. “It’s ok.”

“I know. Thank you for the last few weeks.”

“Of course. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Kousuke held him tighter. “I’m gonna miss you so much…”

“I’ll miss you too. I really, really will.”

For a few moments they rocked back and forth in each other’s arms.

Then they let go.

Akaashi took in a breath and wiped away the tears that had managed to escape his eyes. “Tamquam.”

“Alter idem,” Kousuke finished the phrase. “I’ll see you in a few months.”

Akaashi nodded with a weak smile. Kousuke was planning to visit for his birthday in December. It seemed like an age away. “I’ll see you then.”

Akaashi turned to walk away, but before he went into the line, he ran back and threw his arms around Kousuke’s neck one more time.

Promise me this is forever… Akaashi stopped himself from saying it out loud. But in his head he begged to Kousuke and any god that might listen.

~

He stopped in Romania on the way home to meet up with Nishinoya who was staying there for a month.

“How do you and Midori handle the distance?” He asked. His friends had been in a long-distance relationship for over five years at this point. He didn’t know how they did it. It had been two days, and he already missed Kousuke so much.

Noya raised an eyebrow. They were sitting in the tiny restaurant he was working at for the time being. He didn’t have to work when he traveled, but he said it made the experience more fun. He liked meeting new people and seeing what the culture was like up close.

“I think our situation is a little different,” he said. “I can see her whenever I want. Just have to call and say ‘book me a ticket to wherever you are’ and I’m there in the morning. I have no responsibilities, and she has endless money.”

“What about before? What was your plan?”

Noya shrugged. “We didn’t really have one. But when she left for college we assumed she’d be coming back to Japan afterwards. And if not, then I’d move out there. Didn’t work out that way, but we always knew we’d end up together somehow.”

“Right,” Akaashi nodded. “You’d have really moved to the States?”

“Yeah, I would have. Why, what are you thinking?” Noya frowned.

“I’m trying to decide if I could move to Italy.”

Noya breathed out a long ‘hoooo.’ “You actually thinking about it? You guys just started the long distance.”

“Of course I’m thinking about it! Kousuke wasn’t happy in Japan. I couldn’t ask him to move back. And he wants to go back to school next year. In Italy. So that’s at least another five years of long distance. Even if we make it through that, his whole family is there, and they need him. You should have seen him there Noya. He belongs there. He’s got this whole massive family that loves him and needs him, and all his friends too. If we want to have a future, then I have to move there.”

Noya just sipped his drink.

“You lived in Italy for a while,” Akaashi said. “Can you see me there?”

Noya shrugged and made a face like he didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know Keiji. I can see you with Kousuke. Beyond that…” he shrugged again.

“Why do you say that?” Akaashi frowned.

“You love Japan, man! It’s clean and organized. Everything’s on schedule. Not to mention you work in manga.”

“That last part’s definitely negotiable…”

“Well anyway. Europe is really different. Food is different. People are different. You don’t speak the language at all. I’m not saying you couldn’t do it. But come on, we both know if it weren’t for Kousuke you’d be planning to live in Tokyo your whole life.”

Akaashi put his face in his hands. “You make me sound so boring.”

“You’re not boring, Keiji, you just don’t like change. And you’re comfortable with your life.”

“I always wanted to travel! I really liked Milan. I wanna see more places.”

“Seeing is different than living. Trust me I would know.”

Akaashi stared out the window.

“Again” Noya said. “I’m not saying you couldn’t. Just think about it. It’s still super early to—”

“I’ll lose him if I don’t move.” Akaashi didn’t care that they’d long been long distance for two days. They’d been together for a year. And he wanted to be with him forever.

“Hm,” Noya made a noise under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing it’s just,” he took a deep breath. “You wouldn’t even move to Osaka.”

Akaashi looked at him sharply. He wanted to say that wasn’t true. That it was different. When Bokuto moved away, their relationship had already been falling apart. But he felt a pang of guilt in his chest and remained silent.

“Sorry,” Noya said. “I probably shouldn’t have said that. It’s just, it’s actually making me think that maybe you should do it. I mean if you’re actually considering moving like ten thousand miles for a guy, you must really love him.”

“Yeah,” Akaashi sighed. “Yeah I do.”

You also loved Koutarou…

Akaashi blinked to clear his head. He wasn’t going to get anywhere comparing his two relationships.

Noya looked at him pondering. “Just think about it Keiji. Really think about it.”

“I am. Believe me. And I’m not planning to go right away or anything. We can do the long distance for now. I’m ok with that. I’m just thinking down the road.”

Noya nodded. Akaashi saw his nimble fingers drumming patterns on the table. His friend could never sit still for long.

“Ok,” Akaashi pushed his chair back to stand up. “Whatever outlandish adventures you have planned for me, let’s get them over with.” He gave Noya a smile to let him know he was joking. He’d told him to plan whatever outings he wanted to show off the country while Akaashi visited. And knowing Noya, it was gonna be jam packed with thrills.

But Noya just grinned. “Oh you wait and see, we’ve got quite a day ahead of us!”

Chapter Text

In December Kenma’s manager forced him to have a launch party for some collaboration or merch or game or something he’d been working on. If you asked Kenma he’d just sigh and say he didn’t even know himself. Akaashi and Bokuto would both be there. So would Kousuke who was in Tokyo for Akaashi’s birthday.

Akaashi didn’t want to lose one of their few nights together at a party that even the host didn’t want to be at. But Kousuke loved parties and told Akaashi he needed to be more supportive of his friends. So they went.

The party was a big deal. Even Nishinoya and Midori would be there. Midori’s presence assured the paparazzi’s even more than Kenma’s did. Kousuke held Akaashi’s hand as they climbed out of their taxi and walked through the flashing lights on the street. They sat down at their table as dinner came out.

They were seated with Noya and Midori. Yamamoto and Yaku from Nekoma were also at their table. Noya and Yaku quickly started making conversation about libero related things with Yamamoto. Midori and Kousuke wrapped each other up in conversation. They were both loud, outgoing, brilliant artists who could individually talk to anyone for hours. Akaashi knew he could sit back and relax.

He found himself looking around the room and soon spotted Bokuto. He was at a table with Hinata, Kuroo, Kageyama, and Tsukishima. He looked good. He was wearing a simple but elegant black suit, and he’d let his hair down, parting it to the side so it flowed in a shiny silver wave across his head. Akaashi could see that he was clearly in his prime. Tall and handsome with thick muscles and perfect control of his body. Akaashi looked at him, curious to see if the old feelings of discomfort and fear and tension would arise. But they never did. He felt calm. And maybe a little proud. Of himself or Bokuto he wasn’t sure. Probably both.

Yeah, he said to himself. He’d known it for many months, but seeing him in person again was the final proof he needed. He’s him, and I’m me. And we’re gonna be ok.

Bokuto tried his best not to laugh as Kenma gave his speech. The poor guy clearly just wanted to go home. He let out a long, audible sigh as he flipped to the second page. Bokuto made eye contact with Kuroo across the table, and they had to hide their laughter behind their hands.

Once the demonstration was over, the event turned into a standard party for the rich. Bokuto left a conversation with Yaku and started to walk through the crowd towards Noya and Midori. On his way over he happened to see Kousuke talking to Kenma by the bar. He was speaking excitedly about something and using his hands a lot when he talked. Bokuto remembered it must be the Italian in him. But he was a little worried the drink he was holding was going to spill all over Kenma soon.

He registered that Kousuke was not with Akaashi, and he reflexively glanced around the space to find him. He almost jumped when he saw that Akaashi was standing against the wall about ten feet away and looking straight at him.

He was wearing a light pink, collared jumpsuit made from a shiny, smooth looking fabric. It was cut to highlight his waist and long thin frame. Bokuto thought he could have been posing for a photoshoot, and his heart leapt into his throat.

After a few seconds of eye contact, Akaashi started to smile. Bokuto let his own lips curl up into an awkward grin. If it was anyone else he’d spotted like this, he would have walked over to say hello. But they weren’t speaking. So he remained rooted to the spot.

“Hey,” Akaashi raised a hand and waved.

“Hey…” Bokuto said, and his body turned towards him of its own accord.

“How’s it going?” Akaashi said in a tone that said, ‘why are you just standing there?’ But the half smile remained, so Bokuto let his feet carry him forward.

“Sorry,” Bokuto said as he approached. “Why are you tall?” Akaashi was the same height as him, maybe even taller, which was deeply unsettling. It made him feel even more out of control than he already did.

Akaashi kicked a foot out towards him. The pants of his jumpsuit were tucked into a pair of chunky, metallic silver, heeled combat boots. “I’m cheating.”

Bokuto laughed. “Wow.”

“I’m kind of into it to be honest,” Akaashi said as he looked down at his shoes. “Might do this more often.”

Bokuto realized that he himself was more than kind of into it. It wasn’t just seeing Akaashi in stylish, polished clothes. It was seeing Akaashi loving himself in them. And off the runway too. He was wearing a full face of makeup as well. His eyelids were painted with sparkly pink and silver shadow, and the inner corners were lined with bright turquoise, the contrasting colors helping his blue irises pop. He also wore black eyeliner, glittery mascara, and blush and contour highlighting his high cheekbones.

Why do you have to be so beautiful… Bokuto’s heart ached. Akaashi had only gotten more stunning. He’d just turned 24, and he looked like a man, even with the makeup and clothing. An irresistible, striking, elegant man. And Bokuto still loved him. He wanted to kiss him. He wasn’t going to. But he wanted to. He wanted to press his boring, ordinary lips against Akaashi’s pink ones and taste whatever gloss he’d put on them to make them that shiny and full.

But he realized with a happy sigh that Akaashi looked relaxed. More relaxed than he’d been around Bokuto in the two years since they’d broken up. Bokuto wanted to keep it going. “You should. You look good.”

“Thanks. You too.”

Bokuto shook his head. He knew there was no way he looked on the same level as Akaashi, and he felt a little self-conscious without his signature spiky hair. “Thanks. Happy birthday by the way.”

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.”

“Do anything fun?”

“Yeah, uh, Kousuke’s…here…so we just went out. Nothing fancy.”

“Cool.”

“How’s volleyball?”

“Good! We’re doing really well. Olympic qualifiers finished up last month.”

“Your second Olympics. That’s really awesome, Koutarou.” Akaashi smiled at him.

Bokuto grinned back. “Thanks, Keiji.”

A few minutes of polite conversation later, Bokuto pointed across the room to where Hinata was very publicly making out with a girl neither of them recognized. “Hey, look at that.”

“Oh my god,” Akaashi grimaced. “Remember when we met him, he seemed like a fucking toddler.”

Bokuto cackled. “Yeah, he really found himself in Rio.”

“I think you mean he found out spiking a ball isn’t the only way to get a dopamine rush. Better hope he never learns about crack.”

Bokuto snorted. “Good to know you’re still a judgy asshole.”

“Thanks,” Akaashi chuckled. “Now look at that.” He pointed to the bar where Kageyama was sitting next to Tsukishima and staring at Hinata with daggers in his eyes.

“Oh, he looks pissed,” Bokuto said. “More than usual.”

“Yeah. He’s definitely in love with Hinata, he just hasn’t figured it out yet.”

“For real??” Bokuto gaped.

“Yeah, bitch, look at him!” Akaashi stuck a hand out towards Kageyama before crossing his arms over his chest. “He squeezes that glass any harder, we’re gonna need EMS on site.”

Bokuto laughed.

“Hey!” A bright voice interrupted. “How’s it going? You ok?” Kousuke had just run up to them and slipped a protective arm around Akaashi’s waist. He was wearing white bell bottom pants and a magenta dress shirt made of sequins. He was also in platform boots. Bokuto was beginning to understand where Akaashi’s new fashion confidence was coming from.

He watched as Akaashi turned his head to look at his boyfriend. His features instantly softened, and he gave him a cute smile. Bokuto’s smile faded, and he felt like he should probably look away.

“Hi!” Akaashi said. “I’m good. You having fun?” Bokuto’s heart clenched at the intimate tone of his voice.

“Yeah. You?” Kousuke said again. Even Bokuto picked up on the underlying question in Kousuke’s voice, and he cringed.

Do you need to be rescued from your ex?

Bokuto knew Akaashi must have told Kousuke all about him, but hearing the nervousness in Akaashi’s man’s voice did not make him feel good.

“Yeah,” Akaashi confirmed, his tone light. “I’m fine. Um. This is Bokuto Koutarou.” He pointed at Bokuto. “We’re just talking.”

Bokuto put on an awkward smile. “Hey,” he waved. He knew the introduction was just for show and wondered what the ratio of bad to good things Kousuke had heard about him was.

“Hi! Nice to meet you, man. I’m Lapo. Or you can call me Kousuke.” Kousuke smiled as he held a hand out, not a hint of malice or distrust in his voice. Akaashi had managed to reassure him with just a few words, and now he was back to his normal open kindness.

“Yeah, you too,” Bokuto shook his hand and tried to match his friendly tone. Ugh this would be so much easier if you were a dick, he thought to himself. Why do you have to be the nicest person on the planet?

“Oh, caro, here. Sorry that took so long.” Kousuke handed Akaashi a glass. “I got distracted.”

“You always do,” Akaashi said with affection. He held the glass in both hands and took a sip of the clear cocktail through the straw. Cute… Bokuto thought.

“What are you guys talking about?” Kousuke asked.

Akaashi leaned their heads closer together. “Ok you see him?” He pointed at Hinata.

Kousuke nodded. “He’s kinda hard to miss with that hair and the girl attached to him.”

Akaashi laughed. “Ok well, that’s Hinata. We knew him in high school, and he’s on Koutarou’s team now.”

Kousuke nodded to show he was following along.

“Now you see that guy at the bar?” Akaashi continued. “That’s Kageyama. Also from high school. I think he likes Hinata.”

“Oh I see, I see.” Kousuke glanced at Bokuto. “What do you think, Koutarou?”

Bokuto looked up. He hadn’t been sure if he was still a part of this conversation. He took a step closer to Akaashi’s other side, careful not to actually touch him. “It’s possible. Hinata is definitely clueless though.”

“Think they’ll ever get together?” Kousuke asked.

“Not sure,” Akaashi said, as if it was a scientific hypothesis. “My current theory is that one day they’re gonna get really drunk, accidentally fuck, and then have no idea what to do about it so they just never speak of it again.”

“Oh come on,” Bokuto protested, ready to defend his friend. “I think they could work it out. Maybe they’ll get drunk, fuck, then realize they love each other and live happily ever after.”

Akaashi laughed. “Good to know you’re still unrealistically optimistic.”

“Hey, hey Keiji hold on,” Kousuke cut in. “I agree with Koutarou. I have faith in them. Not that I’ve ever met these people, but I’d like to believe in a happy ending.”

“Thanks, man.” Bokuto held out his fist, and Kousuke bumped it.

In between them, Akaashi rolled his eyes. “Both of you are very silly.”

Kousuke shot him a look so soft he may as well have kissed his cheek. “My cynical, Keiji,” he sighed.

“Why is Kageyama even here?” Bokuto very much wanted that to end. “I thought he moved to Italy.”

“No clue,” Akaashi shrugged. “Maybe the author of this story just really wanted a way to set up for a KageHina fic.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Wait Keiji, you have a friend who lives in Italy?” Kousuke asked. “We should go see him next time you visit!”

“Oh, uh, maybe yeah. He’s not a very social guy though.”

“Well, then we should definitely go see him! Make sure he has some friends.”

Akaashi smiled at him. “Baby, you can’t adopt everybody. But if there’s anyone who could make him talk it’s you.”

Bokuto wasn’t sure if he should stay or not. He wanted to stay because that meant he got to be around Akaashi. But that also meant being around Kousuke, who Bokuto was worried he was starting to like.

He didn’t think they were trying to be rude by flirting with each other in front of him. They probably just couldn’t help it. Akaashi clearly loved him. Probably more than he’d ever loved Bokuto. And the way Kousuke looked at Akaashi told Bokuto more than he ever wanted to know.

He hung out with them for another twenty minutes or so. It was nice. And awful. And refreshing. And terrifying. Akaashi was Akaashi but better. And Bokuto felt that was because Kousuke was there. He wondered if he was coming off as Bokuto but better.

“Hey guys, I think I’m gonna head back out there,” he said when there was a break in conversation. “Haven’t had a chance to catch up with some people yet. But hey, it was really great seeing you,” he said to Akaashi, hopefully casually. “And it was nice to meet you, Kousuke.”

“Yeah you too!” Kousuke reached out a hand to Bokuto again, and the next thing he knew they were bro-hugging. “See you around!”

“Yeah see ya!” Bokuto made eye contact with Akaashi one last time. Akaashi waved and smiled at him, just a slight upturn of his mouth. Bokuto nodded and waved back, committing the beautiful look to memory before turning around and walking back into the crowd.

“He seemed…really cool,” Kousuke said as they watched Bokuto disappear. “You sure you’re ok?”

Akaashi leaned his head back against Kousuke’s shoulder and pulled his arms so they wrapped around his waist. “Yeah,” he let out a big sigh. “Yeah, I’m fine. He does seem good. I’m glad.”

Kousuke kissed his jaw. “Me too. I got a little worried when I saw you guys talking. Was it obvious when I interrupted? I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No! Not at all. You were fine.”

“Good,” Kousuke sounded relieved.

“But thank you for worrying.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Koutarou is…honestly a really good person,” Akaashi said. “And I probably owe him a thousand apologies. We just…I don’t know. I think we did a lot of damage to each other. Maybe we’ve finally gotten past it. I hope we have.”

Kousuke held him. He could tell when Akaashi just needed to get something off his chest. “You are also a really good person. And I love you.”

“Thanks.”

“Now come on and dance with me.” He pulled Akaashi out towards the dance floor.

“Or we could go home.”

“Keiji, come on,” Kousuke laughed until he saw the meaningful look on Akaashi’s face. “Oh.”

“Yeah. You’re only here for a week, and I intend to get as much in as possible before I can’t have sex again for another three months.”

“Oh my god, you are so blunt sometimes,” Kousuke shook his head. “But yeah let’s go.”

Akaashi grabbed his hand. “Time to Irish exit this bitch.”

Kousuke laughed as they ran towards the door. “Wait!” He suddenly stopped. “Shouldn’t you at least say congrats to Kenma first? He’s over by the—”

“Kousuke I swear to god…”

“Sorry I’m coming, I’m coming!”

As soon as he left Akaashi and Kousuke, Bokuto’s nerves started to go off, worried he’d said something weird or betrayed his feelings in any way. He walked up to where Noya and Midori were laughing about something on the opposite end of the room.

“Hey guys.”

“Hey Kou,” Noya said.

“I’m surprised you’re not dancing,” Midori added.

“Oh,” he said absentmindedly as he sat down at the table with them. “I’ll probably get there.”

“You ok?” Midori asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good… Just met Kousuke.”

“Oh.” Noya and Midori exchanged a not-so-subtle glance.

“Don’t worry it was fine,” Bokuto said, a little annoyance at their lack of faith in him slipping into his voice. “For real he seems actually very cool.”

“Yeah, he’s a good guy,” Noya said.

“But are you ok?” Midori asked again.

Bokuto looked at her gratefully. “I am… alright,” he sighed. “Yes, it’s a little weird. But I’m ok. I’m happy for him. And I’m not gonna do anything. I’m past that.”

“Good,” Noya said as Midori scooted her chair closer and looped her tiny arm through Bokuto’s massive one.

“You’re a good person, Kou,” she said.

Bokuto reached a hand out and pulled her head towards him and kissed her hair. “Thanks Mi-chan. I’m trying.”

She laughed and went back to lean against Noya.

“How long is Kousuke in town for?” Bokuto asked.

“Just the week,” Noya answered.

“How often does he visit?”

“This is the first time since he left. I don’t know though. Keiji says they’re gonna try and trade off going every couple months if they can.”

“Sounds tiring.”

“It’ll be harder next year,” Noya mused. “Kousuke’s gonna start his PhD, and they don’t get much time off. So Keiji will probably be going more.”

“Oh damn,” Bokuto nodded. He’d forgotten that Akaashi was now dating someone even more academically ambitious than he was. He tried to push off the memory of his 2.4 college gpa. Just above the minimum required to remain an athlete. “That sucks.”

“Yeah,” Noya sighed. “We’ll see what happens. He’ll have to decide soon.”

Bokuto frowned and noticed Midori was also doing the same. “What do you mean? Decide what?”

“Oh, just that—”

“Yuu,” Midori said softly, but Bokuto saw how hard she was gripping his arm.

“It’s ok, you can tell me,” Bokuto said. “I promise not to freak out. What is it?”

Noya looked at Midori before saying anything. She just smiled weakly, tension around her eyes. “Ok. Go ahead.”

“Keiji might move,” Noya exhaled. “To Italy. They’ve been talking about it.”

Bokuto suddenly remembered a day in middle school science class when they’d been learning about electricity. The class had stood in an open circle holding hands, and their teacher had touched the first student’s hand with a minor shock. The voltage had rippled down the line of students from one hand into another. Bokuto had felt the shock wave pulse through his body making his insides jolt even as he stood perfectly still. That’s what this felt like.

“Oh.”

“It’s not certain yet!” Midori held a hand up in reassurance. “Not at all. They’re like, barely starting to talk about it.”

Noya shot her a look that indicated to Bokuto it was more than barely. “You don’t…you don’t have to sugar coat it for me.” But inside he was reeling. The thought of Akaashi leaving was nauseating. He was finally ok with the idea that Akaashi was dating someone else. The only solace had been that even if they weren’t together he could at least still talk to him and see him at events. Now that was being taken away too.

“Kou,” Midori said sadly. “I’m sorry. Shit, we shouldn’t have said anything.” Noya grunted sharply. She had probably kicked him under the table.

Bokuto put his face in his hands and rubbed them up and down. “It’s ok. Don’t worry about it. Um. I’m ok…” His friends sat quietly while he tried to absorb this new blow. After a few seconds he put his hands down and took a deep breath in and out. “It’s ok. I want him to be happy so, if that’s what’s best for him then…that’s what he should do. And I’ll be ok with it. It’s really got nothing to do with me anyway.”

Midori reached out and grabbed his hand. He squeezed it back. “I think I’m gonna go.” He stood up. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna do anything stupid, I promise. I just need to think. I’ll see you guys at the house.”

They just nodded.

“I’m sorry, man,” Noya said seriously.

Bokuto tried to smile at him. “It’s ok. I’m sorry too. Goodnight.”

He turned and walked back towards the exit.

Chapter Text

Dear Keiji,

I used to start these things with ‘to my Keiji,’ but you’re not mine anymore. You haven’t been for years. You belong to someone else now, and maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it’s good that I can see you be happy. Even if it feels like it’s being shoved down my throat and I’m left alone trying not to choke. It’s good because it’s the only thing that could force me to do this now.

I’m writing this to let you go. A year ago we stopped speaking, and a year before that we called it quits. But I saw you tonight, and it made me want to die, because against all reason and through all the pain and the bullshit, I’m still in love with you. I’m hoping if I put all these feelings on paper they’ll get out of my head and out of my heart, and I’ll be able to move on. For so long I’ve been telling myself and everyone else that I already have, but it’s a lie.

Seeing you be in love with someone else tonight broke my heart all over again. You’re telling our friends he’s the one, and I can see why. He’s everything you wanted and everything you need and everything I couldn’t give you no matter how hard I tried. Do you know how hard it is to see that? To want so badly to just be happy for you, instead of hating myself for not being able to be that person for you? To live with the knowledge that I could never figure out how to make you happy?

I think that’s the hardest part. The realization that all of me wasn’t enough for you. That I could never be what you needed. It can’t all have been for nothing right? All the time we spent together and all the love we had for each other. How horrible would that be? I’m haunted trying to find an answer for that.

I wonder what it would take for me to forget your face and the way you walk and what your laugh sounds like. How long would you have to be out of my life? Or will I just miss you forever? How much of my life is going to be wasted just thinking about you?

I keep replaying the old days. Just staring at the wall trying to figure out where it all went wrong. But I keep seeing that moment on my balcony when you told me you were tired. Tired of me. Tired of trying. Tired of pretending you still loved me. You look better these days. Your eyes are bigger, and you smile more. You let me go and became who you always should have been and couldn’t be when you were with me. You’re not tired.

But I still remember when you felt like home. I remember everything. Making you laugh and seeing you smile and holding you when you cried. You were more broken and lost than I realized, and it breaks my heart thinking I probably just made it worse. I got distant and tried to give you space when I should have protected you and held onto you tighter and loved you harder. Because you were everything to me. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I wanted you.

Even now, when I’m in your city that used to be our city, I just wanna run to where you are. I see your face in the stands at my games, on the train, on random waiters. I hear your voice too. I convince myself that it’s calling to me, or replay it in my head at night saying the things I wish you’d say. Your beautiful voice that was the first thing I noticed about you. I pick up my phone to call you and put it down again over and over and over. I just want to hear your voice, because you feel so far away. And I’m desperately clinging to any scrap of you I have left.

Do you remember too? Do you think about me and remember why you used to love me? Are you as haunted as I am? Or have you forgotten? The worst thing I can imagine is that you don’t think about me at all. I’d almost rather you hated me.

It happened so fast. There was no real end or goodbye. One moment you were mine and the next you were gone. And we’ve barely spoken since. And I feel like I’m just frozen in time, waiting for you to come back and say it wasn’t real. I want to see you walking up to me and hear you say you remember. I used to wish I could hear you apologize. Now I dream of you saying you forgive me for everything.

I want to stop loving you so badly. But I can’t seem to turn off how I feel. I loved you so much, and I wish I’d said something. I keep thinking that maybe if I’d just known the right thing to say, I’d still have you now. Scenes play out in my mind of what I could have done differently. Back then and now. I lie awake trying to come up with the words that will bring you back to me. And I feel so guilty for thinking about that. So selfish, like I’m trying to trick you into loving me for longer. I didn’t think I could ever lose you. I was so stupid. Even after all those years we could never quite get it right with each other. And now I’m just supposed to let it go. Like you did.

I’m jealous of you too. I want to fall in love again, so somehow I have to move on. How did you do it? I wish I could ask you. Maybe I can’t because the way I loved you was messed up. Too possessive and desperate and all consuming. Maybe it was a perverted way of loving someone and just screwed me up. Because I can’t imagine actually loving someone else after what we had. I think I’m too used up and damaged to be given to someone new.

You’re the only one that I have ever wanted. I think to me there are only two people in the world. You and everyone else. Every guy I want is just some clone trying to be you. But they’ll never come close.

Every time I try and be with someone, it just falls apart because I’m thinking about you. Because I’m still holding out hope that we might be together in the end. Because I’m permanently heartbroken, and I can’t give my whole self to someone when most of me still belongs to you. I feel so gross. Why can’t I leave you alone?

I wanna yell at you too. Scream at you to please just let me go. To stop taking everything from me. Or just beg you to pretend you still love me for a night and let me kiss you and hold you and feel you against me again. I don’t know what you did to me. No matter how bad things were and how much we sucked together, I loved you through all of it. I still love you so much. And I wanna hate you for that. But I can’t because I know it’s all on me. You’re not responsible for anything I’m feeling. And I could never hate you.

Do you think we only get one real love? Because I think you were mine. But he’s yours. And I know you’re probably leaving. You’re gonna go to Italy and marry him, and I’m gonna call Kageyama and go visit him in Rome in hopes a miracle might happen and I see you on the street. Because I’m that crazy. Because the thought of never seeing you again terrifies me to my core. Because twice a year is so much more than never. Because I would follow you anywhere.

You probably think I got rid of everything I had of you. And most of it I did. But the truth is I kept a couple of your letters. And when I miss you too much I read, over and over again, the parts where you tell me how much you love me. I know the version of you who wrote those things is gone. And the version of me you wrote them to is gone as well. But I can’t help but hold onto the times when you said you would love me forever. I still feel that way about you. And it kills me. Which is why I have to stop.

I know you’re never gonna read this. No one is. Which is the only reason I can write it. I’m gonna let you go, Keiji. For real this time. It’s over now. It’s been over. My heart’s the only one who hasn’t realized it yet. Even if there’s a part of me that is always going to be yours, I owe it to myself and to you and to everyone else to try and lock it away. So this is the last night I’m gonna pretend you’re still mine. The last night I’ll fall asleep picturing you. It has to be.

Yours, hopefully for not much longer,

Koutarou

Chapter Text

Bokuto went back to Osaka the day after Kenma’s party. He said goodbye to Noya and Midori and met up with Hinata at the train station. His friend had definitely hooked up with the girl he’d met and was still pretty disheveled.

“Did you have to walk of shame back to Kenma’s house before this?” Bokuto asked as he took in Hinata’s appearance.

Hinata winced, embarrassed. “Yup.”

“Worth it?”

“Oh yeah.”

Bokuto chuckled. “Good for you man.”

“Thanks. How was your night?”

“Not as good as yours.”

“Really? Sorry.”

Bokuto ruffled his messy orange hair. “I’ll tell you on the train.”

~

As the bullet train sped across the country, Bokuto confessed to Hinata that he’d left early after hearing the news about Akaashi. He didn’t tell him about what he’d written. That was for his heart alone. But he let him know he was more disappointed than he thought he would be.

“I’m sorry Koutarou-san,” Hinata said. “I didn’t know it was still that bad.”

“That’s the thing,” Bokuto responded. “It’s not. It hit me really hard last night. But now in the light of day I realize it’s fine. I just needed to wallow for a while.”

Hinata nodded.

“Like,” Bokuto continued, “Yes it sucks. But really I just want what’s best for him. And that isn’t me anymore. And honestly, he isn’t what’s best for me either. I think I was just too scared to admit that.”

“Why were you scared?”

Bokuto pondered the question. “I think I didn’t know how to live without him. We were together for so long. And I was completely dependent on him even before we got together. To have him suddenly gone? I didn’t feel safe. It was easier to keep loving him than it was to stop. Because stopping meant change. And learning about myself. And what if I didn’t like what I found, you know? So I just…wouldn’t let him go.”

“What about now?” Hinata asked.

“Now?” Bokuto sighed and leaned back in his seat. “I think I still love him. But it’s starting to get more exhausting to keep loving him than it would be to give up. So… I guess I’m glad he’s moving? That feels wrong to say. But I’m glad I’m tired of loving him.”

Hinata nodded. He’d never had a real boyfriend or girlfriend, so his ability to relate was limited. But he knew how hard the breakup had been on Bokuto for the last two years, and he was happy to hear that things were changing.

“I think that’s really great Koutarou-san!”

“Thanks,” Bokuto smiled. “Me too. I feel lighter now.”

It was true. What had poured out of him last night was the darkest and worst thoughts and feelings from the last two years finally being dumped out. The love he felt for Akaashi — the sadness, the anger, the jealousy — he’d forced it into a little ball of pain in the depths of his heart and never given himself a moment to process the feelings.

Seeing Akaashi and talking to him again. Seeing him with his lover. It had been a wakeup call. The little voice that always said, “you can’t be happy without him,” every time something good happened seemed much less intimidating. Bokuto’s life was so much bigger than Akaashi. What had he been thinking for so long to be delaying his own growth for a boy who didn’t want him anymore?

That said, everything he’d written had been true, even if it was only half the story. But admitting it to himself had given him the freedom to finally move forward. He might still love Akaashi. Maybe he always would. But he didn’t need him anymore.

~

When they arrived in Osaka Bokuto asked, “Hey can I come over? Don’t feel like going home yet.”

Hinata nodded. “Yeah sure. Anything you wanna do today?”

Bokuto shrugged. “Not really. We can just hang out if you don’t have plans.”

“To be honest my plans were to go to the gym for a bit then spend the evening scrolling Grindr.”

Bokuto laughed. “You are out of control.”

“Yeah… it’s just so fun!”

They took a taxi back to Hinata’s apartment. Hinata went to shower, not having had time the night before after his one-night stand. Bokuto was getting hungry, so explored his pantry while he waited. But Hinata cared so much about his physical health that all he had was protein powder and health foods, which was not what Bokuto wanted right now.

After giving up on finding a good snack he decided to go downstairs. Atsumu and Hinata lived in the same building one floor apart, so it was easy to go back and forth between his friends’ places. Bokuto probably spent more time in this building than his own.

When he got down to Atsumu’s apartment, he grabbed the knob without hesitation and tried to go inside. He frowned when the door didn’t open. He tried one more time and realized that, for once, it was locked. He knocked and yelled, “It’s me! You home?”

A few seconds later Atsumu opened the door. “Why didn’t you just come in?” He asked.

“It was locked.” Bokuto walked in and saw Sakusa sitting at the kitchen table. “Hey Omi-Omi.”

Sakusa sighed but waved back.

“Really?” Atsumu turned to Sakusa. “Omi, did you lock my door again?”

“Yes,” Sakusa said. “You need to lock your front door.”

“Then how would people get in?” Atsumu asked.

Sakusa stared at him. “You answer the door like a normal person.”

“Eh whatever.” Atsumu waved him off. “How was the party?” He asked Bokuto.

Bokuto walked into the kitchen and checked the fridge for food. He saw the container of Osamu’s onigiri that Atsumu always kept stocked. Bokuto grabbed three along with a couple of eggs and pulled a frying pan out from the cabinet. He poured oil into the pan and turned the stove on. He’d really gotten into pan frying rice balls lately.

“Interesting,” he said in response as the pan heated up.

“Interesting how?” Atsumu asked.

“Party was great,” Bokuto said in a casual tone. “Food was great. Saw all my friends. I met Keiji’s boyfriend. Turns out he’s the coolest person on the planet. Paparazzi was fun. Shouyou got laid. Keiji’s moving to Italy.” He threw the onigiri on the pan without turning around.

“Oh,” Atsumu said. “Shit.”

“Yup. But I’m ok.” Bokuto paused to shrug. “Well. Not really. But I’m ok with not being ok, I guess?” He flipped the onigiri over, added the eggs, and grabbed a plate. He finally looked up at Atsumu who was staring at him with a confused expression. Sakusa was looking at him too.

Bokuto turned around. He got his food out of the pan and turned the stove off, then leaned back against the counter. “So yeah. Interesting.”

Atsumu put his hands in his pockets. “What are you thinking, Kou?” He asked.

Bokuto bit into his food. It burnt his tongue but tasted delicious. And familiar. He ate this all the time in this same place. Somehow onigiri just tasted better when he ate them out of Atsumu’s fridge.

As he pondered how to answer Atsumu’s question, he started thinking about what the last fifteen minutes would look like from an outside perspective. He’d gone to one friend’s apartment and left without warning. He’d walked down the stairs and into another friend’s place unannounced. He’d gone straight to the kitchen and made himself food without asking. He’d known exactly where everything was. And his friends hadn’t questioned any of it.

Bokuto suddenly felt a little overwhelmed with emotion. He smiled as a strange pressure started to rise in his chest and behind his eyes. He looked up at Atsumu and said, “I’m thinking that I love you.”

Atsumu raised an eyebrow but waited to see where Bokuto was going with this. “And Shouyou,” Bokuto added. “You too Omi-kun. And I think that I feel good. I mean I’m fucking heartbroken. Maybe I always will be. But I have you guys. And I have all this.” He gestured around them. “And I love this. It’s simple and solid and ordinary. Just somewhere I can go to feel better when everything sucks. And this is my life. Not Keiji, not college. And here things are good. Makes me think maybe there’s hope for me after all. So no matter how easy it would be to just give up and be depressed and feel bad for myself, I know I want to keep going. I know it’s gonna get better. In fact it already is. And I’m gonna be just fine. I have a lot going for me and a lot to look forward to. When I’m here, with you, I feel safe. And I know that I can call this home. I’m not gonna give up. Not for anything. That’s what you guys are. Might seem silly, but it’s real enough to me.” With a final awkward smile he took another bite of onigiri.

Atsumu blinked a few times. “Fuck man. I love you too. Sentimental bastard.”

Bokuto laughed and tucked his chin down, a little embarrassed. He hadn’t come here planning to say all that. It had just flown out.

He remembered how he’d felt the night before. As he’d written out words he knew he’d never show another soul. That had been what he’d needed then. To give all his worst and saddest thoughts the space they deserved. To finally acknowledge them, and then to let them go. Akaashi was gone. So what? He was happy. And so was Bokuto.

As he looked at his friends, Bokuto realized how scared he’d been this whole time. He’d been so nervous to be alone that he couldn’t accept it. He’d told himself that everything would be ok so long as it was still him and Keiji in the end. He’d clung to that belief so hard that it blocked him from recognizing just how far he’d come.

Now he was sure that even if they weren’t together, he would be just fine. And that was ok. It had been him and Keiji for a long time. And when it was them, it was good. But Bokuto was good alone too. Though he saw now that he never really was. There were still people he loved and people who loved him. And he was finally ready to accept it.

Bokuto was ready to make another speech, but before another round of sentimental babbling could come out, the door opened, and Hinata walked in.

“Hey,” he said. “Figured you came down here. What’s up? Hi Omi-san!”

He also walked towards the kitchen and took one of the onigiri off Bokuto’s plate.

Bokuto grinned. He hadn’t imagined when he’d met the tiny, skinny, wild boy at summer camp all those years ago that one day they’d be so close. Real friends, not just a senpai and student. But here they were, both making a home in the same place with the same people. Comfortable and safe.

Bokuto and Atsumu exchanged a look and laughed. Bokuto put his plate down, and he and Atsumu moved to grab Hinata in a group hug.

“What’s going on?” Hinata laughed, his face squished between their chests.

“Kou-kun is making us cry with friendship!” Atsumu said.

“Omi?” Bokuto turned his head to look at Sakusa. The other spiker shook his head, but a rare smile was pulling on his mouth, and he blinked slowly in acknowledgment of the moment. Bokuto knew that meant more from him than any hug.

He squeezed his friends tight until Hinata complained they were gonna crush the rice ball in his hands.

They stayed at Atsumu’s apartment all day, only taking a break to pass a volleyball around in the park across the street. They played together every day, but there was something special about just goofing off with your friends doing something you all love without the pressure of practice or games or their careers on the line. Even Sakusa stuck around to hang out, a rare but very welcome occasion. They tried trick shots and illegal moves and ran around like kids. And it was brilliant.

Atsumu ordered takeout for dinner, and they sat around in the living room eating and watching movies, talking and laughing until well into the night.

Eventually Sakusa said he had to go home to do his nighttime routines, but he smiled again at the door and agreed to join for dinner next time they went out. The remaining three spread out across Atsumu’s living room — on the floor and on the couches — and Bokuto breathed easy and fell asleep with a smile on his face and his friends around him. He didn’t dream of Keiji.

Chapter Text

Akaashi was staring at his phone, and his hands shook as he read the name on the screen. He felt he had to be seeing things. The phone was trying to tell him there was incoming call from his father. His father he hadn’t spoken to since he was 18.

Akaashi let the call go to voicemail then gasped when his father actually started to leave a message. He waited two minutes, and then with shallow breaths he hit play and held the phone to his ear.

 “Hi Keiji,” said his dad’s voice. “It’s Aka— er, it’s your dad. Um. Sorry to call unexpectedly like this. I know it’s been a while. But um, I was talking to your grandfather about you the other day, and, well, I guess I just thought I might call. If you want to call me back then feel free. Um, yeah. I hope you’re doing well. That’s all. Bye… Keiji.”

Akaashi listened to the message twice. He hated how much of himself he could hear in his father’s short few sentences. The awkwardness and reserved formality. It made him cringe inside. He knew he’d probably sound exactly like this if he had to leave a message of a similar nature.

But also precisely because they were so similar, he knew how much it must have taken for his dad to make that call. He might have been debating it for years. Akaashi wondered what his grandfather had said to make him finally do it.

He didn’t call back. It had been six years since he’d spoken to either of his parents. In fact, he’d been pretty confident that he was never going to speak to them again unless some emergency happened.

Akaashi Souta had never shown any interest in being a part of his son’s life. For 18 years, they had shared a home but barely interacted. When Akaashi had come out to his parents in the final days of high school and told them about him and Bokuto, Souta hadn’t seemed to care one bit. Unfortunately Akaashi’s mother was a different story. She’d hated it the second she found out and been steadfastly against acknowledging she had a gay son. So Keiji had chosen to leave, and Souta had decided to stay with her.

Akaashi tried to calm his nerves enough to text Kousuke.

He typed out, My Dad called me.

He didn’t know how to elaborate more than that yet.

Kousuke responded instantly. What did he say? Did you answer?

Akaashi sent the voicemail as an attachment and waited for Kousuke’s reply.

How do you feel? Kousuke asked. Do you wanna talk to him?

Akaashi texted back, I don’t know.

That’s fine. It’s your choice. Can always call and see what he wants. It won’t obligate you to keep talking. But do what’s best for you. I have lunch break soon, I’ll call you, we can talk.

Yeah. Ok I’ll think about it. Thanks.

In truth, Akaashi was conflicted. On the one hand, it kind of sucked not having parents, especially during college when everyone else seemed to be calling theirs at the drop of a hat whenever they had a question about anything. On the other hand, Souta had never really been a parent to begin with, so it wasn’t like there was anything to restore.

Akaashi sat down to think. His father hadn’t been terrible when he came out. He’d basically just treated it with as much disinterest as he did everything Keiji did. He hadn’t been openly hostile like his mother. But when Akaashi had said he was moving out, neither him nor his father had done anything to maintain what little relationship they had. His parents had always been far more interested in each other than they were in their son, so it hadn’t surprised him when Souta hadn’t tried to convince him to stay.

Akaashi still remembered the day he left. He’d packed all his things into boxes and loaded them into Bokuto’s car. For a brief moment they had all stood in silence in the living room. There had been a final whispered goodbye. Then his mother had turned and walked away. Akaashi locked eyes with his father one more time before following Bokuto out the door. And he hadn’t seen his parents or his childhood home since.

He listened to the voicemail again in case there was any subtext or hidden clues he hadn’t picked up on. Hearing his father’s voice again was surreal. It sounded a lot like his own. He’d never noticed before.

By this point in his life, Akaashi had pretty much come to terms with his lack of parental figures. Even Kousuke only knew the detached, emotionless retelling of events that Akaashi had given him. He probably assumed there was a lot more to the story, but had never pushed Akaashi to reveal any more than he was comfortable with.

These days Akaashi never spoke of and rarely thought about his parents. In terms of family, he had his grandparents he spoke to occasionally, and that was it. His friends were everything to him. When the no-contact split had happened, he’d closed himself off and decided to just live as an island, and he quickly tried to discard any familial baggage from his life. Even when everything had first happened, he hadn’t talked to any of his friends about it.

Well, except one…

Akaashi shook his head. No. Don’t even think about it. He grabbed his phone and flicked to his recent calls. His finger hovered for a moment over Midori’s name, but he changed his mind and put his phone back down. Midori usually had the best advice, but something made him hold back.

Like Kousuke, she and Noya had come into his life after all this. Not to mention, Midori hadn’t spoken to her own parents since getting kicked out at 17, and Noya was an orphan raised by his grandfather. He didn’t know how those histories would impact their thoughts on the matter.

Akaashi knew he was behaving unusually. Normally when he had a problem, his natural instinct was to tell no one and solve it all on his own. Or at least take some time to process it in his own mind first before bringing anyone else in. But he’d buried the topic of his parents so for long that the idea of being left to his own thoughts on the matter was horrifying. Then again, so was the idea of talking to anyone close to him about it.

He winced and turned his phone over in his hands. Provided Bokuto hadn’t changed his number in the last two years, Akaashi still knew it by heart. But talking to Koutarou again…about this of all things…

He didn’t even know if Kou still had feelings for him. He couldn’t imagine how he could. He’d seemed totally normal at Kenma’s party. No hint of discomfort or residual feelings. But prior to that, they hadn’t spoken in a year. And the last time had been so awful.

Akaashi thought again about that final day. Bokuto had finished putting his boxes in the car, then he’d climbed into the driver’s seat next to Akaashi. He’d taken his hand and kissed his temple before starting the car and driving towards their first shared home.

It had been Bokuto who finally gave him the courage to come out at all. And once he did, he’d been there to pick up the pieces. Akaashi had told him everything. All the horrible things his mother had said, all the ways his life was now completely upended. He’d cried to him for weeks about his fears and his shame.

And Bokuto had held him and said, “I’m getting you out of there.”

They’d found Apartment 7C, connected with Noya and Midori, and Akaashi hadn’t looked back. It was Bokuto who had been there to help him when it all went to shit. And Akaashi hadn’t needed to rely on anyone else. Bokuto had been enough.

Akaashi thought about how different things were now. He and Bokuto fell apart. They didn’t talk anymore. And yet he still found himself dialing the number. He hesitated again before hitting call, thumb hovering over the button.

How weird was this? Extremely weird, right? And yet, Bokuto was the only person in the world who knew everything that had gone down with the Akaashi family at the end of high school. And frankly, the fact that he was pretty disconnected from Akaashi’s life at this point made it seem a little less scary to talk to him. Like pouring out your feelings to a stranger.

But then again… he was Koutarou… and everything that came with that.

Akaashi hit call.

Bokuto checked his phone. When he saw it was an unsaved number, he almost ignored it, but then the familiar pattern of digits registered in his mind, and he dropped his bag on the ground.

What the hell… Bokuto had a 5-second-long debate in his head. I should answer. He’s reaching out so I should answer. But also I should try and stay away. I just promised myself I’d get over him. But he wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important, right?

“Bokkun?” Atsumu stared at Bokuto over his locker door.

“Be right back.” Bokuto slammed his locker shut and bolted out of the room, almost tripping over a bench in his haste to get out. He answered the call while running down the hallway of MSBY’s practice gym. “Keiji?” Oh, fuck, I shouldn’t have said that. Now he’ll think I still have his number saved.

“Koutarou. Hi.”

Bokuto’s heart jumped at that voice. It really is him. Despite the evidence on his phone screen, he still hadn’t been sure he believed it. He found a private corner and sat down on the ground, trying not to breathe too hard into the mic. “Hi. What’s going on?”

“Um. Sorry…this is weird.” Akaashi sounded pained, and there might have even been fear in his voice.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. Just, uh, something happened and um… I don’t know. Sorry.”

“Keiji, what’s going on?” Bokuto asked, concerned now.

“My dad called me.”

Bokuto’s heart slowed. Whatever personal nervousness he’d been feeling before dissipated completely. This was more important than anything going on between him and Keiji at the moment.

“Oh. Oh wow. Just out of the blue?”

“Yeah,” Akaashi said in a soft voice. “I didn’t answer, but he left a voicemail. Said he ran into Grandpa, and they were talking about me, so he called. He said I could call back if I wanted. But I just…I don’t know.” Akaashi sounded uncomfortable. Bokuto could imagine him curling up and rolling his shoulders around the way he did when nervous.

“What, um. What does Kousuke say?” Bokuto knew there was no way he was Keiji’s first contact.

“That I can do whatever I want, but it wouldn’t hurt to call just to see what he wants.”

“Yeah. That makes sense…” Bokuto wasn’t sure he agreed with that, but then again Kousuke knew Akaashi better than he did now.

There was an awkward pause before Akaashi spoke again. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m calling you. You’re just the only person who was there when everything… the last time I talked to them and all.”

“No, it’s ok!” Bokuto assured him. “Yeah, don’t worry, I get it. Um, it’s just your dad, right? Not your mom?”

“He didn’t mention her at least.”

Bokuto breathed a little easier. He loathed Keiji’s mother, and Souta had always been an extension of her in his head. In high school he’d told Akaashi to cut them both out permanently. He realized now that that was probably dramatic, but he’d been so angry. Shocked and furious that Keiji’s own parents could treat him like that just because he was gay.

“Keiji,” he said slowly, making sure to choose his words carefully, “the biggest problem with your dad was that he didn’t care about you. Him reaching out is kind of…confusing.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think something else is going on?”

“I have no idea.”

Bokuto took a moment to think. He couldn’t fuck this up. “Keiji, they’re never gonna be your parents. It’s too late for that. So if you call him, it should be because you want to get to know him as a person, not as a dad. So you just have to decide if you want that.”

“Yeah,” Akaashi said in a small voice.

“Or if you want closure. Like you want to hear what he has to say about everything. But if you’ve accepted and come to peace with it on your own, then you don’t have to do it for that reason. And…I don’t know, correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you were kind of ok with the way things were. So you have to decide if bringing all that up again is gonna be good for you. Don’t do it if it’s just gonna upset you again.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

Bokuto paused again. His heart was beating a little faster now as he remembered the first and only time he’d met Akaashi’s parents when he’d gone to the Akaashi house to help Keiji move out for good. They’d packed up his things and moved him in with Bokuto. Neither of his parents had said a word.

Keiji’s mother Naoko looked exactly like him. Tall and thin with deep blue eyes and thick black hair. She was stunningly beautiful, but unlike Keiji, there was no warmth hidden underneath her blank expression. Like a perfect stature carved from marble. Souta had stood next to her. He’d remained silent, but in his eyes, Bokuto had seen the same intensity that took over Keiji’s when his brain was whirling. Like he wanted to speak up but didn’t know how.

At the time he had hated both of them for the way they treated Keiji, but the whole time, Keiji himself had been silent and conflicted about leaving. Bokuto had driven him back to his apartment, and he’d barely said a word in the car.

“Keiji, don’t, um, don’t think of it as trying to salvage anything with him. Cause there’s nothing to salvage. You’d be basically meeting someone for the first time as the person you are now. So try and figure out if you think he’s someone you’re interested in having a relationship with. Any type of relationship. Besides a parental one.”

“Right. That helps. Thanks Kouta…rou.”

Bokuto’s breath caught. Akaashi had slipped and called him Kouta. Not Koutarou or Kou. Only Akaashi had ever called him that. It was the closest he’d gotten to a pet name.

Bokuto squeezed his eyes shut. Until last month, if he’d heard Akaashi call him that, he’d have screamed the words ‘I love you I love you I love you’ over and over in his head while his heart throbbed. But his resolve to move on hadn’t faltered yet, and he was determined to be a good friend in Akaashi’s time of need. So he shoved all of that down and reminded his brain to restructure their relationship to friends, not lovers.

“Of course, Keiji. I’m, uh… I’m here for you, you know. Whatever you need.”

“Yeah. Thanks for talking.”

“Sure. I know your family stuff sucks a lot. So don’t pressure yourself to do anything. I don’t wanna pressure you either.”

“You aren’t. This was helpful. Really.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

There was silence on the line for a few seconds before Akaashi spoke. “Thanks Koutarou. Really. I feel really bad calling you out of the blue like this. Sorry. I know it’s been a long time, and… well… sorry. I totally get if you don’t want anything to do with me.”

Bokuto inhaled quickly. He wasn’t quite ready for that conversation yet. “No, no it’s fine! We’re — well— we can still be friends, Keiji. Or at least I’d like to believe we could.”

“Yeah. Friends. That sounds good. If you really want to.”

Bokuto could feel the hesitation in his voice. But he suspected it was coming more from Akaashi’s doubt about Bokuto’s feelings than his own. As if he couldn’t believe Bokuto might still want to talk to him.

But Bokuto didn’t comment. Only said, “Great! So, yeah, call whenever you need. Doesn’t have to be weird.”

“Cool. Thanks. You too,” Akaashi breathed.

Bokuto knew he probably shouldn’t do that, but he said thank you anyway.

“I should go,” Akaashi said. “Thanks again.”

“Totally. Do whatever is best for you Keiji. Put yourself first, ok?”

“I’ll try. Bye Koutarou.”

“Bye Keiji.”

When the call ended, Bokuto leaned his head back against the wall. His heart started to race again, but he forced it to slow.

Friends friends friends. Keiji is my friend.

It was easier than he thought.

Chapter Text

Kousuke wasn’t able to call during his lunch break, but after he got home from work they talked for a long time. Akaashi told him about Bokuto’s ideas, but found himself hesitant to tell Kousuke where those ideas had come from. Their relationship was already in a strange spot, and Akaashi didn’t want to say anything that might make things any more awkward. And that included confessing he’d gone straight to his ex for advice. But the guilt ate away at him as they talked. He knew he’d have to tell Kousuke eventually. But he was dealing with too many other feelings right now.

They hung up well into the night Akaashi’s time, and in the end, he took the advice of both his boyfriend and his ex-boyfriend to heart, and thought for a long time as he lay in bed that night about his father, and what it would mean to connect with him again.

Akaashi Souta was an interesting man. Quiet and intellectual just like his son. But Keiji couldn’t forget that throughout his childhood they’d rarely even seen each other, interacting maybe once every few months.

However, he also couldn’t forget that a few days before he’d left, Souta had told him he was happy for him and apologized that things had turned out the way they had. It had been a short statement. And Keiji had just nodded in response with a quick thank you. And they hadn’t spoken again. But coming from Souta, Keiji knew that must have taken everything he had.

Akaashi thought about what Bokuto had said. You’d be meeting someone for the first time as the person you are now. So try and figure out if you think he’s someone you’re interested in having a relationship with.

After a couple deep breaths and lots of internal struggle, Akaashi took his phone off the nightstand. It was nearly morning. He’d been up all night talking to Kousuke and thinking. But he opened a new message and began to type.

Hi Dad. I got your message. Would you like to get coffee sometime?

Then he rolled over and curled into a ball to go to sleep, wishing he had some of the sleeping pills his mother had been so dependent on.

No, he told himself. I’m me. I’m not them.

~

That weekend, Keiji stood in the doorway of a cafe. His cuticles were raw from picking at them so much last night and this morning. His father had texted him back, and they’d agreed to meet for a quick hello.

Keiji had gotten there 20 minutes early to give himself time to prepare his heart. Unfortunately he was Akaashi Souta’s son, and they had both had the same idea.

Keiji hadn’t been there more than a minute when he saw his father’s figure crossing the street from the station. He stopped and stared. This is really happening…

Souta paused six feet away. “Keiji. Hi.”

“Hi Dad.”

~

Nerves had calmed slightly by the time they sat down. Both men studied the menu thoroughly, pretending to be deep in thought. After placing orders, they looked at each other and took a deep breath.

“So how have you been?” Keiji asked.

“Good, good,” his father replied. “Yeah, everything is fine.”

“Cool.”

“And you?”

“Um. Yeah fine. All good.” Keiji breathed through the ensuing silence. “So, um… read any good books lately?” He’d had this question prepared. Both his obsession with books and his tendency to purchase them without any hint of restraint might have been genetic.

“Oh yes!” Souta looked relieved. “Last week I finished…”

The literature conversation carried them until the food arrived. Keiji kept having to force himself to look his dad in the eye. He looked older. Six years will do that to a person. He realized Souta had turned 50 a few years ago. That seemed wild. He’d totally missed it.

He wondered what he looked like now in his father’s eyes. The last time they’d seen each other, Akaashi had still had messy hair and didn’t wear makeup or know how to dress himself. It shocked even him to realize how different he was than all those years ago, and not just physically.

After books, they moved on to jobs. Souta hadn’t heard of any of the mangas Keiji had worked on, which wasn’t surprising, but he promised to look them up. Keiji said he really didn’t have to. Souta said nothing had changed at his job. Keiji had to ask him to explain more since he’d never really known what his dad did in the first place. It turned out he was a project manager for a tech company. Keiji couldn’t really imagine his dad running a team. Then again people would probably say the same about him, and he’d managed fine as team captain in high school. Is that the same thing? He wondered.

Eventually the small talk got too difficult for both of them, so Keiji swallowed his fear and said, “Dad listen, um, why did you call me? Did something happen?”

Souta inhaled and exhaled slowly. “No, nothing in particular. I just…I don’t really know. I was with your grandparents, and your grandpa showed me a couple pictures of you and said you were doing well, and…well in the pictures you looked happy. You were traveling and attending big events, and well, to see you like that… it made me happy too.”

“Oh,” Keiji whispered, suddenly so grateful that Kousuke forced him to pose for pictures everywhere they went. “Thanks.”

“Keiji,” Souta stuttered. “I’ve… I’ve always regretted the way things happened. I probably should have said something at the time. And I’m sorry I didn’t. And I’m sorry we haven’t reached out before. I, um, I didn’t know…well…”

“Dad, it’s ok. Really. It’s ok.” Keiji didn’t want to get into the past. There might be time for that someday, but it wasn’t now. “Thank you for calling me.”

Souta nodded, still looking down at the table. “Ok. You’re welcome. Thank you for texting back.”

“Yeah sure,” Keiji murmured.

“So, um,” Souta stuttered. “Do you still have the same boyfriend? The one who came to the house?”

“Uh, no actually. We’re not together anymore. But I have a new one! He’s the one who took the photos Grandpa showed you.”

“I see, I see! Great. He is a good photographer.”

Keiji actually laughed. ”Yeah. Yeah he is.”

“What does he do?”

Keiji smiled. This was the most his father had ever asked about his life, and he was always happy to talk about Kousuke. “He’s getting ready to start grad school now. In Italy. That’s where he’s from. He’s studying art.”

“Oh, very interesting. Will he be coming back to Japan after school?”

Akaashi’s mood sank a bit. “No. Um. He wants to stay there.”

His father nodded slowly. “Oh.”

Akaashi could tell he wanted to ask more but didn’t feel comfortable yet. Akaashi appreciated that. He wasn’t quite ready to discuss the precarious nature of his relationship with his estranged dad. He tried to avoid thinking about it himself.

Akaashi gave an awkward smile. “Yeah, um. It’s complicated. We’ll figure it out.”

Souta nodded.

Keiji desperately tried to remember the other conversations topics he’d come up with, but Souta spoke first.

“Keiji, I… I didn’t tell Mom where I was going today. And I won’t. If that’s what you prefer.”

Akaashi hesitated. “I…I would prefer that.”

Souta nodded again.

“How is she?” Akaashi couldn’t help but ask.

“The same. Mostly,” Souta said, vague as ever. “She’s fine.”

“Ok.” Akaashi didn’t think he could take much more of this. “Dad. I, er, I don’t think I wanna talk about Mom right now.”

“Oh.” Souta dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok!” Akaashi reassured before things got even more awkward. “We just don’t have to talk about it. Everything that happened really. We don’t have to.”

His father blinked. “Ok. Sure. Whatever you want.”

“Thanks…” Akaashi swallowed. “Can you, uh, tell me more about that work project?”

Souta sighed in relief as well. “Of course. What would you like to know?”

~

They made it through the rest of the lunch. Akaashi left with five more books on his to be read list and completely emotionally exhausted. But he didn’t regret the meeting. Souta also seemed fully spent by the time they got up to leave, but he told his son he was glad they could do this.

Keiji said he’d keep in touch. It felt wrong, but right at the same time. When he’d left his parents at age 18, he’d been an insecure and terrified boy clinging to another boy for dear life. Now he was his own person. He was grown and, while not quite confident yet, at least a little more stable in who he was.

A relationship with his flawed father no longer felt as heavy and impossible as it had six years ago.

~

He got home and tried to read until it was time for his nightly call with Kousuke. Akaashi didn’t want to admit it, but long distance had been brutal. With the time difference they barely got to speak to each other for any extended periods of time. When Kousuke was getting ready in the morning, Akaashi was already at work. Then when he got off work, Kousuke’s day had started; and once Kousuke got off for the evening, Akaashi had to go to sleep.

They texted when they could and made time on the weekends for long talks, but it wasn’t nearly enough for either one. So they savored their weekend phone calls and FaceTime's. Akaashi would stay up late, and Kousuke would call while he made dinner, and they could chat about their weeks and all the things they’d been saving up to tell each other.

It felt right when they talked. But when they didn’t, things were harder for Akaashi than he’d imagined. He found himself lying in bed with his phone to his ear, realizing he’d forgotten stories he wanted to tell or questions he wanted to ask. It was hard to hold a conversation just talking about their day to day lives when they weren’t in the same place. Sometimes they’d read to each other. Sometimes they’d start a movie at the same second. Sometimes they’d touch themselves to the other’s voice. But the 10,000 mile gap was always there. Looming like a storm cloud that was slowly moving closer. Akaashi lived in constant fear of the day the rain would finally pour, but he was too scared to move closer or run away.

When Kousuke had come to Tokyo for his birthday, Akaashi had told him that he was considering moving to Italy, and Kousuke had been so happy it had practically broken Akaashi’s heart. But he couldn’t tell him that.

It had been a shattering moment. To make the offer out loud, only for his boyfriend’s reaction to make him realize he’d been hoping for a “you don’t have to do that.”

Akaashi was torn. It had only been a few months, but the reality of his situation had been weighing on him heavily. What he had told Noya in Romania was true. If he didn’t move to Italy, then there was no reason for him and Kousuke to stay together. But neither of their hearts could accept that.

~

“So tell me about your dad. How was it?” Kousuke asked while Akaashi lay on his bed staring at the ceiling.

He took a deep breath before replying. “It was…ok. I mean super awkward. But not bad.”

“Good! That’s a positive result, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so considering everything I’d been imagining this week.”

“I’m happy for you Keiji.”

“Thanks. I think… I think I’m happy too.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“Probably. We’ll see. He’s hiding that he’s meeting me from my mom, so I feel a little better.”

“I’m sorry hon. Your mom sucks.”

“She really does,” Akaashi agreed. “But my dad was fine. He seemed more interested in me than he’s ever been before. It was actually pretty weird.”

“Yeah. I’m glad he’s trying.”

“Thanks.” Akaashi paused then inhaled and said, “Kousuke, I have to tell you something.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“I… I called Koutarou…when I first got the text.” Akaashi winced.

“Oh.” Kousuke, ever openminded, said. “Ok. Why?”

“Um. I was kind of freaking out. And he— well, he knows more about my parents than anyone else. Even you. I’m sorry. I just don’t like to think about it, but he was there when it happened and everything.”

Kousuke took a moment to think. “Ok. That makes sense. I’m sorry you didn’t think you could talk to me.”

“It’s not that!” Akaashi exclaimed. “I wanted to talk to you too, but you were at work, and I haven’t told you as much about my family stuff.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you until now.”

“It’s ok… what did he say?”

“Um. He was actually really nice about it. He gave me some advice on how to reframe the situation so it wasn’t as scary. He told me it would be a new relationship as my current self, and that I wasn’t obligated to talk about the past if I didn’t want to. That sort of thing.”

Kousuke was silent for a moment. “Ok. I’m glad he was helpful.”

“Are you upset?”

“No. I’m not mad that you talked to him. I get why, and I know you don’t have any feelings for him anymore. I guess I’m just a little sad that I couldn’t give you the right support.”

“I’m sorry. I—”

“Stop apologizing Keiji.”

“Oh right. It’s my fault really. I chose not to tell you about my past. So you really couldn’t have known.”

“How about you tell me now?”

Akaashi started. “Oh. Uh. I don’t know, it was so long ago. And I don’t wanna dredge it all up. It’s not that I’m scared to tell you stuff. I just don’t want to talk about it.” Akaashi didn’t want to be talking about any of this. He didn’t want to waste any of his time with Kousuke on things that might make them sad. They were sad enough to begin with just being apart.

Kousuke seemed to pick up on his boyfriend’s mood and didn’t push any harder. “Ok. Well, thank you for telling me about Koutarou. And if you ever do want to talk about it, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know.” Akaashi’s voice was nearly a whisper. “Thank you.”

“I love you caro. So much.”

“I love you too. Fuck I miss you.”

“I miss you too. I wish I could be there for you right now.”

“Me too.”

“Keiji,” Kousuke said softly. “You have to talk to me about things.”

Akaashi paused. “I do!”

“I don’t mean like that. I mean that since I moved, you haven’t told me anything bad. You don’t talk about your feelings. Or your disappointments. Or anything hard. We used to talk about that stuff.”

Akaashi rolled into a ball. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t just say you’re sorry. Say you’ll talk to me.”

“I’ll try.”

“What’s wrong, love?” Kousuke asked. And Akaashi could tell he didn’t mean just at this moment.

“I just miss you,” Akaashi whispered. “This is really hard. I just feel like, if I used our talks to have shitty conversations, I’d leave them feeling even worse.”

“I get it. But please don’t just pretend you’re fine. That’s not a real conversation either.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Keiji… please stop apologizing.”

“I don’t know what else to say.”

“Tell me what’s on your mind. Right now. Anything.”

“I’m thinking I hate this,” Akaashi answered honestly. “I hate that you’re gone and I can’t be with you. I hate that I’m so bad at this. That I’m fucking everything up and not giving you what you need. I hate that I can’t have sex with you right now because I really want to. I hate that I feel this way because I know it’s so selfish. I want you to be happy. I want you to have everything you want. I want you to be there because I know it’s what’s best for you. I just… it sucks that you’re not here.”

“Keiji… I hate all that too. I can’t stand being away from you.”

Then come back! Akaashi wanted to yell. But he knew he couldn’t.

“Sweetheart?” Kousuke asked, his voice high and soft. “Were you serious? About coming to live here with me?”

Akaashi breathed through his tight throat. He knew what he had to say. “Yes,” he whispered. “I can’t stand being away from you either.”

Kousuke’s exhale was so relieved, Akaashi could feel his smile through the phone. “Then try and imagine that. This isn’t forever, baby. We just have to get through this hard part. And we can. I know it.”

“You’re right.” Akaashi’s heart was pounding. “We’ll be ok.”

“I love you, amore. You’re amazing. You’re perfect. I love you so much. I’ll love you forever.”

“I’ll love you forever too…”

“We’ll get an apartment in the city. With a terrace and a view. I’ll cook for you every day. And you can read to me. And we’ll go to sleep together again. And we’ll know it’s for good.”

Akaashi imagined it. Coming home everyday to his beautiful husband in a beautiful city. Walking the old roads and seeing the gorgeous buildings. It should have been perfect. But instead of soaring, his heart ached. And it was terrifying to not know why.

“That sounds perfect,” he said.

“I can’t wait,” Kousuke murmured. “Is it selfish to say I want you to come soon?”

“No. It’s not. I wanna be there soon.” The words came out of his mouth like a reflex. And he almost gasped at how much they scared him. But he stuffed those feelings away. Kousuke was so happy he couldn’t ruin it again.

“I just miss you so much.”

“I miss you too.” This part was true.

“I wanna hold you so bad.”

Akaashi curled into a tighter ball. “Me too. I wanna cuddle you. And kiss you everywhere.”

“Angelo… I wanna do so much more than that.”

Akaashi giggled. He was happy the conversation was moving this way. It felt safe and happy. He wanted Kousuke’s arms around him more than anything. “What would you do if I was there?” he murmured.

Kousuke laughed gently. “I’d probably… touch your cheek. Or put my fingers in your hair.”

Akaashi let his fingers drift up to caress his cheek. “Yeah?”

“What would you do?”

Akaashi flushed, but a smile was spreading across his face. “I’d… I’d kiss your collarbone. Right where those vines are.” He closed his eyes and pictured the tattoos that ran across Kousuke’s chest. Then he brought his fingers to his lips, and rubbed them across his own hand like it was the hollow of Kousuke’s collar. He imagined Kousuke in his room across the world, bringing a hand to the same place. “What would you do next?”

“I’d touch your waist. Run my hands on your body…”

Akaashi shivered as he pretended his hands were Kousuke’s delicately touching the skin of his hips. “I’d hold your face. Bring your mouth to mine…”

Kousuke exhaled. “I’d kiss that birthmark on your neck. Below your ear.”

Akaashi couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He bit his lip and whispered what he’d do next.

Phone sex was remarkable when the people doing it were two genius creatives. Akaashi’s way with words had Kousuke in tatters, and Kousuke’s artistic descriptions gave Akaashi vivid enough images that he almost forgot it was his own hands in his own room.

They dragged it out a long time. Bringing each other to the edge and back again as long as they could stand it.

“I need to cum…” Akaashi groaned. “Please…”

“Ok…” Kousuke whispered. “Together.”

Within moments they cried out in relief, picturing each other.

Akaashi’s voice was louder than he was ready for, tearing out of his throat as his hands moved inside and on him. He shook for several seconds, whimpering and moaning until it was too much to bear. Then he collapsed on the bed.

“Fuck Keiji…” came Kousuke’s exhausted voice. “I wish I could have watched that.”

“Me too…” Akaashi’s orgasm had hit him so hard he hadn’t even been able to hear Kousuke’s moans as he came too. He promised himself that next time they did this he’d let Kousuke cum first. “We should FaceTime next time.”

Kousuke laughed. “That sounds amazing. God, I wish I could hold you right now.”

“Me too.” Akaashi curled in on himself, pretending it was Kousuke’s strong, tanned arms wrapping around him. “I miss you so much…”

“I miss you too. I love you.”

“I love you.” Akaashi held himself tighter, suddenly feeling very alone. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold onto the illusion that had come so easily while he touched himself. Now that it was over, reality was crashing back in. His lover was across the world, and they wouldn’t see each other for a long time.

“Is it too much to ask if you could visit soon?” Kousuke asked hesitantly. His voice was soft, like he was scared to ask but couldn’t help it.

Akaashi sighed. He wanted to. He wanted to get on a plane tomorrow. But he knew he couldn’t. He had work and responsibilities. And plans to see Yachi next week and probably another lunch with his father pretty soon.

He didn’t know why, but a feeling almost like panic was rising in his throat. “I love you,” he said, because he couldn’t bear to say anything else. “I love you so much. I wanna see you so bad.”

“You can,” Kousuke whispered.

“March,” Akaashi said softly. I have a deadline at the end of February for the next volume. I’ll come after.”

“Ok.”

The spell of the evening was broken. Akaashi had brought work and reality into the conversation.

“I’ll look at tickets tomorrow.”

“Ok amore,” Kousuke said. I can’t wait.”

“Me too…”

Chapter Text

The rest of the V.League season carried on without a hitch. Bokuto was getting better all the time, and MSBY was quickly becoming one of the teams to watch in Japan. Bokuto and his group of friends were well used to filming commercials and posing for billboards and interviewing with magazines by this point in their careers.

Bokuto felt he was getting better at being famous too. It had been months since he’d gotten in trouble with management for being photographed with a hook up by the paparazzi. His longest streak yet.

Bokuto’s personal life was still a carousal of parties and sex and freedom, he’d just gotten better at keeping it on the down low and increasing his selectiveness. In fact, now that he was truly working on moving on from Akaashi, his outlook on dating was even more positive than before. He started to go out with people multiple times, which he’d never been able to do before. And he quickly remembered the feeling of being single and how exciting and fun it could be. A feeling he hadn’t experienced since high school.

He was debating moving again to an even bigger place. Money was no problem for him anymore, so he could get a new apartment, or even buy a place if he wanted too. He wanted to be able to host his friends and create a new space for all of them to hang out.

He hadn’t taken the plunge yet because it had been about a year since his parents’ apartment had flooded, and he’d been working with his sisters to get them a new home. They wanted to stay in the same area, but their kids had been trying to convince them they needed to at least switch buildings to something more stable. It had taken a lot of work, but eventually they’d agreed to renting a new apartment in the same ward. It had taken even more convincing to for them to let Koutarou be in charge of their rent, but he had made a good case.

He told them to think of it as a thank you gift for helping him get into volleyball, and also a gift to himself for peace of mind regarding their safety. Bokuto had gone back to Tokyo for a weekend to help them move, and his parents had assured him it would only be temporary, but Bokuto was happy to provide for his family.

The Bokuto family had always been very close. Struggling through poverty had only made them stronger, and they’d been overjoyed to see the positive changes in the not-so-little baby of the family over the last year. It gave Bokuto and his sisters a lot of comfort to see their wonderful parents finally live in a place that they deserved. Bokuto was thrilled. He’d do anything for his family, so using his success to support them brought him a lot of pride, even if his middle sister still had to explain all the details of financing to him.

He was starting to feel a little grown up. He had responsibilities that weren’t just taking care of himself, and he had ambitions for the future that went beyond volleyball.

Of course it wouldn’t be Bokuto’s life if he went too long without something ridiculous happening. He was home one evening in early March, feeling quite proud of himself after seeing the check he wrote for his parents’ rent had just posted, when he got a text from Hinata. He pulled out his phone to check it, and his eyes went wide.

Hinata : Hi Koutarou-san! Can you pick me up from the hospital? I’m fine I just need a ride.

Bokuto frowned and quickly texted back. Uhh yeah sure. Right now? Why are you at the hospital? Are you ok?

Hinata’s next message said, Thank you Koutarou-san!!! Yes now would be good. They should be letting me go soon. And I’m really ok I’ll tell you later.

~

When Bokuto got to the hospital, he asked which room Hinata was in and quickly went up to check on him.

When he got there, he saw his friend lying on the bed in a hospital gown looking extremely worse for wear.

“Dude, Shouyou you said you were fine!” Bokuto exclaimed. “What the hell happened?”

Hinata’s face reddened when he saw Bokuto enter. “I am fine. I’m totally fine. It was nothing.”

“Ok, but what happened? You don’t end up in the hospital for nothing.”

“I’ll tell you later,” Hinata mumbled.

Bokuto was about to ask again when a knock came at the door.

“Hi there!” A nurse entered the room and walked to the end of Hinata’s bed. “I just checked with the doctor, and you should be good to go! Just take it easy for a day or two. You might have some discomfort or cramping, but if you see any blood let us know right away. You should feel fine within a few days. Our bodies are pretty resilient. Do you have any questions for us?”

Hinata still looked embarrassed. “Um. No. Thank you.”

“Alright!” The nurse said brightly. “Then you can go ahead and check out. Your clothes are right here.” He placed a bag with Hinata’s folded up clothes next to the bed. “And I do have your, um—the item—if you’d like it back. It’s been sterilized.” The nurse placed a clear plastic medical bag on the table.

When Bokuto saw what it contained, his eyes widened and he had to press his lips together to keep from letting out a shouting laugh. The bag held a large sized pitch black butt plug.

Hinata froze.

Bokuto let out a shaking exhale, and only when he was sure he could control his laughter, he quietly said, “Um. Shouyou—”

“We will talk about it later,” Hinata said through gritted teeth.

Bokuto had to stare at the ceiling and bite his lips closed to keep from losing it. He just nodded.

The nurse gave a few more instructions and stepped back out. When the door closed behind him, Bokuto turned back and gave Hinata an innocent smile. “Hm,” was all he said.

The redhead turned away and quickly climbed out of the bed. He got dressed as fast as he could, stuffed the plastic bag into his jacket pocket, and stomped out the door.

Bokuto waited while he signed the discharge paperwork and remained silent until they got in the car. Then he turned to Hinata in the passenger seat.

“Sooo…” he said in a horribly teasing voice. “What happened?”

Hinata doubled over in shame. After rubbing his face a few times he sat back up. “Ok. So. Um. I was fucking this guy.”

“Yes.”

“And um. I had, uh, it in. And then it kind of just… got sucked up.”

Bokuto’s barely suppressed laughter came out in short puffs and snorts. “I see.”

“He was on top,” Shoyo continued. “Like riding me, you know?”

“I’m aware of how that works, yes.”

“And something about the way it was… like… I was kinda…” He made a quick thrusting motion, forcing another snort out of Bokuto. “And then it just…” He demonstrated what happened by making a circle with one arm and punching his fist up through it.

“Damn. That’s crazy.”

“I panicked man! It was not cool!”

“What’d you do?”

“I was just like, ‘whoa hold on I gotta stop.’”

“Good place to start,” Bokuto said. “Where is this guy anyway? What happened to him?”

“Well, uh,” Hinata hesitated. “He drove me to the ER…”

“He better have, my god!”

“Yeah, um, he waited for a while. But then he had to go to work. And there wasn’t really anything he could do anyway.”

“Shouyou…” Bokuto sighed.

“So I texted you.”

“Good lord,” Bokuto groaned. “You gonna see him again?”

“Undecided.”

“Not to give unsolicited advice, but you might wanna let this one go.”

“Yeah…”

“Can I see it again? The… you know.”

Hinata reluctantly took the plastic bag out of his pocket and held it up.

“God, Shouyou!” Bokuto cried, not sure whether to laugh or cry. “It’s not even a small one! And that base is huge! How did you even….???”

“I. Don’t. Know. It just happened, ok?!”

“What did they do? Did you have to get a fucking colonoscopy?”

“No! It was a CT to see where it was, then they gave me a fuck ton of laxatives and I just kinda had to—”

“You know what, nope! Don’t need to know!” Bokuto raised a hand from the steering wheel in defeat. “The state of your asshole is your business.”

Hinata shrunk in his seat. Bokuto let him have a few moments to recover.

“Obviously I don’t actually,” Bokuto said, “but I kinda wish I could’ve seen how much you panicked.”

“Ok, it wasn’t panic!” Hinata tried to defend himself. “Like it was a shock when it happened, but I knew what I had to do, you know, like it’s not my first—” Hinata stopped himself before he could finish the sentence.

“I might regret asking this,” Bokuto said. “But are you saying this is not the first time this has happened to you?”

“It’s the first time with a butt plug! But…no… not the first time I’ve got stuff stuck up there.”

“Fucking hell, Shouyou…”

“It was only once before! And it was back in Rio!”

Bokuto sighed. “Ok, go ahead, just tell me what happened.”

“Um,” Hinata somehow shrank even more. “Let’s just say nail extension glue is not as strong as advertised.”

“Oooh my…” Bokuto subconsciously clenched his butthole. “Bro…”

“They came out eventually!”

“God Shouyou!” Bokuto winced. “Stop. Don’t say anymore, I’m literally getting chills!”

~

Bokuto walked his troubled friend back to his apartment. Before he left he asked if there was anything he could do. Hinata said he’d be fine, but made him promise not to tell any of their teammates why he was missing practice the next day.

Bokuto reluctantly agreed, with the exception of Atsumu whom he fully intended to go downstairs and tell the second he left Hinata’s apartment.

____

Once he and Atsumu had spent a full hour laughing at Hinata, Bokuto went back to his apartment. It was pretty late into the night by now, and normally he’d go to bed. But the last few hours had been so eventful he wasn’t tired yet. So he spent some time searching apartments online to get an idea of what might be possible.

By midnight he started to get tired, so he got ready for bed and lay down. He scrolled on his phone for a while. Because no matter how often he heard it was bad to do right before going to sleep, it was practically impossible not to check things one more time at the end of the night.

So he was scrolling through Instagram again when Kousuke came up in his suggested people to follow. He hadn’t clicked on Akaashi’s boyfriend’s profile in a few months — much better than how regularly he’d checked it six months ago — but today he figured he might as well see if there was anything interesting.

He clicked on the most recent post. It was only from a few hours ago, and it was a picture of Akaashi.

lkhashimoto Just a Keiji appreciation post. Thanks for coming to see me <3

He’d posted a series of photos of Akaashi. It seemed he had just been in Italy for a visit, and Kousuke was documenting their time together. The pictures were beautiful, as were all photos that Kousuke took and all photos that Akaashi was in. It was a varied selection of Akaashi pictures. In some he was smiling or looking out at something. Both posed and candid. Some were cute, some were sexy. Kousuke was in a few too.

The last slide was a video clip. Akaashi was standing in what must have been Kousuke’s room. Bokuto could see a messy closet and a violin case on the floor amongst stacks of books. Kousuke must have been filming.

Akaashi was standing in front of the camera. He was shirtless and wearing a pair of loose, low-rise jeans with a jockstrap sticking out of his waistband. Akaashi was also wearing stilettos, not just on his feet, but his hands too.

Bokuto snorted. This entire outfit had to be part of a joke right? He could hear Kousuke laughing in the background.

”Ok ready,” Akaashi said with a smile. ”Picture like a 90s style infomercial, but I’m, like, on a ranch. Ok here we go. Akaashi dropped the smile and started speaking like an exaggerated salesman. “Are you a horse who’s tired of not being sexy enough? We are too. That’s why we made these. The Prancing Rings Couture. They’re just as effective as the classic horseshoe, but with a new and improved sexy upgrade. Everyone knows the best sounds are the buzz of nature and the satisfying click on a heel hitting the ground. So next time you go for a walk around your ranch…”

Bokuto grinned. It made sense now. Akaashi was doing a bit.

Under all the seriousness, he hid that ridiculous sense of humor and a mind that saw the world in such a unique way. Akaashi also loved writing. So when he found something funny, he started to put together ideas for little jokes and bits that sometimes turned into complete sketches. He would write them alone, secretly, or just with Midori, who shared that humor and perspective. Oftentimes the results would be something that was hilarious to them and usually no one else.

Akaashi had always been embarrassed, but Midori managed to convince him to at least perform them for their boyfriends.

Bokuto and Noya would be sat down on the sofa with the promise that it was worth it. Usually they’d get halfway through the bit before losing track of the joke, and it would end in hysterical laughter on Midori’s part and Akaashi lying on the floor, curled up, face in hands, ashamed but also uncontrollably laughing. Bokuto and Noya would just stare in confusion until they started laughing too. It was nice to not be the ridiculous partner in the relationship for however brief a time.

It had always been Bokuto’s hope that one day Akaashi might be confident enough in himself to let that side of him out when Midori wasn’t around. Unfortunately Akaashi’s insecurities rarely let anything but his calm, cool exterior be shared with the outside world. He had so much depth that no one ever got to know. Bokuto had wished that everyone could see his inner layers, because what a tragedy it was to be deprived of Akaashi Keiji’s mind. But that version of Akaashi rarely left the walls of their apartment or the four people who had lived there. Bokuto smiled now, realizing that Kousuke had managed to do the impossible and bring him into the light.

The video continued. ”But remember, this is a high class product, ok? No working horses. You still pulling a carriage in Manhattan? Uh-uh. Clop clop away bitch. This is for upper class equine only. Want to see them in action? Now for a demo.” Akaashi got down on all fours. Kousuke’s laughter got louder, and Akaashi broke character. A giant grin spread on his face, and he stuck one high heeled hand towards the camera. ”No no stop! Baby, for real I’m trying to get through this! Ok listen.” He got back on his hands and started walking in place, letting all four heels hit the ground with a satisfying click. "Does this sound intriguing to you? Well, call the number on the screen, 1-800….um…-sexyhorses and…” The camera started shaking. “Keiji!!” Kousuke’s voice wheezed out. Akaashi lost his composure again and fell back laughing, red faced and rolling on the ground. He pulled his knees into his chest, the stilettos still hanging off his hands. ”So stupid!” he gasped, and the video cut off.

Bokuto let it play again. It was so Keiji. Clever and stupid and subversive.

He read the comments.

midorimori KEIJI

midorimori I love you both so much

nishinoyayuu jockstrap jockstrap jockstrap

Suddenly Bokuto stopped laughing. Because he realized that he was just laughing. His heart felt fine. There was no pressure in his eyes or throat. No bitterness, no jealousy, no pain.

Bokuto gasped. He scrolled back through the pictures of beautiful, perfect, silly, adorable, brilliant Keiji looking as beautiful and perfect as ever. And Bokuto was ok. Keiji was happy. And he was happy for him. Keiji was himself. He was more confident and open. He was doing bits on his own. He was showing them to Kousuke and letting Kousuke show them to the world. And Bokuto was proud of him. He wanted more of this for him. He wanted him to be this happy.

He paused and tried to examine his feelings. His ever present, powerful feelings. There was happiness. There was pride. There was love. And he was ok.

Before he could think he closed Instagram and called Midori, not knowing or caring what time it was where she was.

“Hi Kou,” she answered.

“Hey,” he said, breathless.

“What’s up?”

“I don’t know,” Bokuto said. He hadn’t fully formed his thoughts yet, but he knew he wanted to talk to his friends. “But I’m ok.”

“Oh!” Midori just went with it. “Well that’s good. What are you ok about?”

“Keiji.”

“Keiji?”

“Yeah. I’m ok. And I’m happy.”

“Oh Kou…”

Bokuto laughed. He almost cheered. On the other end of the line Midori said “Yay!” and Bokuto laughed some more. It had taken two and a half years. But he’d finally done it. He’d moved on.

Chapter Text

Akaashi’s trip to Italy had been both more and less than he hoped it would be. He’d landed in Milan, and Kousuke had swept him up in his arms, and they’d hugged hard at the terminal. They went back to Kousuke’s apartment and kissed until their lips were swollen and raw from stubble. But they didn’t stop there. Kousuke took Akaashi, and their bodies came together for the first time in months.

Afterwards, Akaashi lay with his head on Kousuke’s chest, snuggled into the warmth of his tattooed skin, tracing patterns over his torso with his fingers.

“That felt so good…” he murmured.

Kousuke kissed his hair. “Yeah it did. I’ve wanted that for so long. I missed you.”

Akaashi nuzzled even closer into his chest. “I missed you so much.”

“Should we just stay in bed all day?”

“Yes please.”

Kousuke chuckled. “Did you sleep at all on the plane?” Akaashi had taken an overnight flight since it was cheaper than the more reasonably timed ones.

He rolled fully on top of Kousuke and shook his head.

“God, you’re so cute.” Kousuke hugged him tighter and brought his knees up to squeeze Akaashi’s sides. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll hold you.”

Akaashi could already feel himself drifting away. Sex had taken the last of his energy leaving him completely drained. He nodded and murmured “I love you” before going under.

~

The rest of the week had been wonderful. They’d explored Milan, and Akaashi got to see a few of Kousuke’s close friends and family again. The second meetings had been less awkward than the first. He enjoyed his time a lot, and every night he could fall asleep in Kousuke’s arms, which always felt like home, even across the world. They had long talks, read books to each other, played silly games on the floor of the apartment, ate fancy dinners they couldn’t afford, and soaked in as much of each other as they could in their short time together.

But each day Kousuke would ask if Akaashi was ok. Because Kousuke knew him better than anyone. And he could tell there was a lot going on in Akaashi’s mind that he didn’t know how to talk about.

“Keiji,” he said one night, “what are you thinking about?”

Akaashi looked at him. Kousuke was sitting by the window smoking a Marlboro cigarette. The chilly breeze was just blowing the smoke back inside, but Akaashi didn’t mind. He’d actually missed the smell of Kousuke’s cigarettes. He’d rather breathe tainted air in the same place than clean air while being alone.

“Nothing really,” he said.

Kousuke raised an eyebrow. “Come on, you’re always thinking something.”

Akaashi sighed and smiled at him. “I’m thinking… that this has been so nice. I don’t wanna go home on Sunday.”

“You don’t have to,” Kousuke said, lighthearted but not unserious.

Akaashi sighed again and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “I do though. I’ve still got a lot of stuff going on.”

Kousuke put out the cigarette and closed the window. He walked back to where Akaashi was sitting and sat next to him. “I know. Sorry.”

“It’s ok,” Akaashi rubbed his hand.

“I didn’t mean to pressure you,” Kousuke said gently. “You don’t have to move right away, love. Obviously I’d love for you to be here. I miss you so much. But I get that you need time.”

Akaashi closed his eyes again. He felt a little relieved that Kousuke seemed to understand, but he also felt anxious. He was grateful Kousuke was giving him time, but he panicked at how assured he sounded that Akaashi’s move was a definite in the future.

Of course he thinks that, Akaashi thought. You told him you wanted to.

“Kousuke,” he said softly. His heart pounded. He’d been trying for months to gather the courage to say this. Now that they were together again and he could hold Kousuke’s body and look him in the eyes, it was impossible to lie. “It, um. It might be a while. Before I can move. I… I don’t wanna abandon my current projects. Like Tenma needs me for these first few volumes. And I just reconnected with my dad and everything. So…” he didn’t know how to end the sentence. His heart was throbbing in his chest.

Kousuke nodded. “Yeah. Yeah of course. Take whatever time you need caro. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

“Thanks baby…” Akaashi whispered. After a moment he worked up the courage to ask, “Kousuke, do you ever see yourself moving back to Japan?”

Kousuke took a second to think. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “But I don’t think so. I can’t leave my family again. And the work I wanna do is here… My Italian-ness is a big part of my identity… so probably not. I’ll definitely visit, but I don’t want to settle down there.”

A phantom hand squeezed Akaashi’s throat. “Ok. Just wanted to ask.”

“Are you, erm, reconsidering your plans? Or…” Kousuke asked hesitantly.

“No,” Akaashi said, a little too quickly. “I’m just… trying to gather all my options. Get as much information as I can.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Nothing,” Akaashi tried to smile. “You’re already the biggest incentive I need. The only one I need.”

Kousuke got a strange look on his face and said, “Well, I appreciate that. But I’d also like you to move here because you like it.”

“I do like it!” Akaashi assured. “Milan is awesome! I’ve loved everywhere you’ve taken me, and I can totally see myself here. Someday. I just need some more time.”

Kousuke nodded. “Take all the time you need, Keiji. I’ll wait for you. Even if it’s years.”

Akaashi felt a stinging behind his eyes. “I hope it’s not years. I wanna be with you soon. I’m just scared.”

“What are you scared of?”

“Change. You know this about me.”

“Is it just the change that’s scaring you?”

Akaashi didn’t know how to answer that. Change seemed like such a silly concept in comparison to the amount of stress he was feeling. But he couldn’t name what else there was. It wasn’t doubts about Kousuke. Akaashi was sure he would love this man for the rest of his life. He was also sure that if it were the other way around, he’d wait forever for Kousuke to be ready.

But it wasn’t the other way around. Kousuke was staying here. He knew what he wanted and what he was doing. Akaashi didn’t. He wanted Kousuke. Beyond that he wasn’t sure. And that was a terrifying place to be in when he had to make this life changing decision.

He’s what I want. He’s the thing that makes me the happiest I’ve ever been. I’ve never wanted anything else like I want a future with him. Why am I still holding back? What’s wrong with me?

But despite the hard talks, the majority of the week was spent in happiness. They went out to clubs and restaurants. They stayed home and goofed off for hours. They felt like themselves. When they were together, they were always Keiji and Kousuke. In love, and happy, and perfectly in sync. The location couldn’t change that.

When Kousuke took him to the airport Sunday morning, Akaashi held to him tight. “I love you”s were whispered back and forth until they had to let go. Akaashi happened to glance at Kousuke’s phone background and saw it had changed to a photo of him taken the other day on the Duomo of Milan. Akaashi’s background was still a picture of Kousuke at his favorite restaurant back in Tokyo. He made a mental note to change it to a more recent one. They’d taken hundreds of pictures on this trip alone. Surely one of them had to be good enough to update his phone.

You belong here… you belong in Italy. I need to accept that… And I could belong here too. I belong with you. So I must.

“I can’t wait until we never have to do this again,” he said softly, and Kousuke brought him back for another hug.

“Me too, mi amore. Someday.”

“I’ll be back,” Akaashi said.

“I’ll be here.”

As the plane flew away, he felt a pull on his heart from both directions. He didn’t want to leave, because he had to watch Kousuke fade into the distance, but what was even worse was the relief he felt as he knew Japan got closer. The trip had made a few things clear. He wanted this man more than anything. But being with him in Italy was somehow just as stressful as being apart. And Akaashi didn’t know what to do.

Bokuto’s spring was brilliant. Nothing but volleyball and friendship and hard work and love. March and April flew by in a flash, and in early May MSBY placed 3rd in the final match of the season. Bokuto celebrated the achievement with his teammates for two days straight. And he took a trip to see Noya in Thailand for the week between the national and international seasons. When he got back, he and the other players who were called up for the national team were moved into a dorm in Tokyo where they would stay through the 2020 Olympic Games. Most of the team was made up of Japan’s monster generation of players, so it was a great time for all the old friends to catch up and hang out. Especially the ones who were back from abroad.

After a few hard weeks of practice and getting familiar with each other again, the players were ready for a night out to let off some steam. And so the men’s national volleyball team was going out!

Or at least the ones who enjoyed going out were going out.

Atsumu, Bokuto, and Hinata were going out.

“Omi come on!” Atsumu begged. “You’ll have fun! I promise we won’t go too crazy. You have to come!”

Sakusa glared at him. “Miya, we have practice on Monday. For the Olympics. I need to sleep. And so do you.”

Atsumu pouted. Bokuto was watching a similar conversation play out between Hinata and Kageyama on the other side of the room. Only there was much more yelling and punching and sexual tension. Once Akaashi had pointed it out, Bokuto couldn’t stop seeing it. They were definitely into each other, but unfortunately too stupid to kiss instead of hit.

Bokuto didn’t think he’d get anywhere by bringing it up with Hinata, so he was just planning to sit back and see how things played out on their own. Not to mention he was hesitant to recommend that anyone date Hinata longterm until he learned to keep things from getting lodged up his butt.

In the end they managed to convince Suna and Korai to come with them. They ended up in a bar downtown. It was a smaller place with a long bar and pool tables. They played a few games while they drank beer.

They’d been there an hour or so when a tall, blonde girl came over and started talking to Atsumu. She introduced herself as Sakura and waved her friends over to come chat with the guys. She had come with a large group of girls around their age.

The night got more fun after that. The girls were high school friends who had gotten together to celebrate one of them getting engaged. They were all excited to be out on the town and looking to chat and have a good time.

The girl who was getting married was very beautiful. She wore a sash that said ‘bride’ on it, and her friends kept telling everyone in the bar about the upcoming wedding. The poor girl was beet red the whole time.

The volleyball players explained they were here to train for the Olympics, and the girls were very intrigued. Korai and Hinata were overjoyed to have an audience for their ‘proud little giant’ speeches.

Sakura turned out to be married, which hugely disappointed Atsumu, but he quickly started chatting with another girl who was equally cute, and Bokuto grinned from his spot by the pool table. Atsumu was very popular when people first met him, but he usually had trouble sticking the landing once potential dates realized his beauty was only surpassed by his constant absurdity. But the rest of the girls kept pushing their friend to talk to him, so he was doing his best with this unexpected opportunity.

Bokuto was always up for meeting new people, so he considered this a win. What night isn’t made better by a group of fun, cute, drunk girls enjoying a bachelorette party? Even Suna was having fun.

After hanging out for an hour or so, the two groups decided to jump together to a different bar with a bigger space for dancing. Bokuto’s loud voice carried over the sea of jumping people, and he tried to make sure he had a chance to talk to everyone.

After they’d been there for a while, he spotted one of the girls sitting down at a table by herself. Bokuto thought this was strange. This girl had been the loudest of the girls’ group all night, and she was constantly surrounded by friends and random guys trying to hit on her. Bokuto remembered her name being Mia, and he decided to walk over to check on her.

“Hey,” he said, taking a seat next to her. “You getting tired?”

Mia looked up at him right away. “I’m never tired!” she proclaimed back with a big grin.

Bokuto laughed. She was very pretty. With large green eyes and blonde hair that touched her waist. “Whatcha doing over here then?”

“Checking on a patient. One of the nurses at the hospital just sent me an update, so I’m messaging her back.”

“Patient?” Bokuto repeated.

“Oh, did I not tell you? Sorry, I’ve been talking to so many people I lost track! I’m a medical student.”

“Oh damn, you’re a doctor!” Bokuto exclaimed. Mia didn’t really give doctor vibes. Right now she was wearing a short, skin tight black, sleeveless dress that scooped down low in the front and had a massive cutout over her stomach. She’d also been the one to lead the group to the new bar, and all night she’d been bringing her friends more platters of shots and encouraging them to dance and talk to boys. It had been why Bokuto was curious why she was sitting alone.

She laughed. “Not yet. Got another year to go.”

“Should you really be doing patient care right now? Aren’t you wasted?”

She gasped in mock offense. “How dare you, I engage in no malpractice!” Bokuto chuckled, and she smiled back again. “But actually it’s just an update. Someone else is covering my patients while I’m gone, so I am powerless. Which means I can be wasteeedddd!!!” She threw her arms up in the air.

Bokuto grinned. She was really cute. And funny too. They talked a while longer, and even though they were both pretty drunk, the doctor thing soon started to make sense. Mia was goofy and sexy, but also confident and kind, and she seemed like she could make anyone comfortable if they came to her. Bokuto knew she had to be super smart if she’d gotten into medical school, but she didn’t show it off at all, and he talked to her without any fear of being looked down on.

Bokuto even asked her how common it was for people to come into the ER with things shoved up their ass. But he made it very clear he was asking for a friend. A friend who was currently dancing on the bar. Mia had taken it in stride, laughing and telling him more often than one would hope.

They continued chatting while they watched their friends make fools of themselves on the dance floor. Atsumu was trying way too hard, and Bokuto was getting second hand embarrassment even from across the bar, but Mia assured him that the girl could handle it. Bokuto found himself laughing more than he was used to. Mia was very funny in addition to being absurdly hot. Bokuto imagined lots of people getting unusually high blood pressure readings when she took their vitals.

“What medical school are you at by the way?” He asked.

“Oh, I don’t live here!” She said. “I’m at the University of Osaka actually. Just came back for the girls’ weekend.”

Bokuto’s face lit up, and he audibly gasped. “What no way! I live in Osaka too!”

“What, that’s crazyyyy!” She grabbed the back of his chair and leaned towards him.

“Yeah totally!”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Mia whispered extremely loudly.

“What is it?” Bokuto whisper shouted back, leaning his head in closer.

“This is not a bachelorette party.”

“What??”

“Nope. It’s just a girls’ trip.”

Bokuto glanced at the supposedly newly engaged friend. “Then what’s with the bride sash?”

“I brought it as a joke,” Mia admitted with a cheeky smile. “Thought maybe we could get free drinks. I brought a tiara too, but she wouldn’t wear it. She’s super embarrassed, but it’s been totally working all weekend!”

Bokuto cracked up. “No way.”

“Don’t tell anyone!” Mia kept whispering and held a finger to her lips. “It’s a secret!” She pretended to be dead serious, but her green eyes were sparkling.

“Oh of course. Lips sealed.” Bokuto matched the tone and pretended to zip his lips up.

Mia started laughing. “Can I tell you another secret?” Bokuto nodded and brought their heads closer again. “Her name is not Sakura!” She pointed at the girl who had first approached them.

“Oh my god. What is it??”

“I’m not telling you that!”

“Did you guys all give fake names???”

Mia put her finger back to her lips. “Shhh.” Bokuto chuckled and shook his head. “Not her though.” Mia pointed at the girl talking to Atsumu. “Her name is real. We’re trying to hook her up before going home.”

“Well, I can tell you now Atsumu is definitely willing.”

“Yayyy!!”

“So is your name actually Mia?” Bokuto laughed.

She looked back at him, a little more serious now. “Close. It’s Mio.”

“Mio,” he repeated. He held a hand out to her. “I actually am Koutarou. But it’s nice to meet you.”

She shook it. “Nice to meet you too, Koutarou.”

Bokuto didn’t think he was imagining the way their hands lingered. He opened his mouth to speak.

Just then, one of the other girls from the group sat down and tried to rest her head on the table.

“No!” Mio shouted and got back up. “I’m getting you another shot!” She pulled her friend out of the chair. “No one is quitting on me yet!”

Bokuto laughed in amazement as he watched her drag the poor girl back to the bar. That’s gonna be someone’s doctor. Better stay healthy.

But by the end of the night he’d gotten her number.

Chapter Text

Bokuto called Mio the next week. He’d just had an especially productive practice and was feeling quite good about himself. Not to mention he’d ended the session lifting weights in front of the mirror and was maybe a little too impressed by what he saw.

With his hair standing tall, he got back to his dorm room and called before he lost any of his swagger. Mio answered the phone, and Bokuto grinned to himself.

“Hello?” She said.

“Hi! It’s Koutarou.

“Hi Koutarou,” Mio replied. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” Bokuto said. “You?”

“I hope you know I left a lecture to take this call,” Mio said with a laugh.

“I’m sure whatever disease you’re learning about will still be there afterwards.”

Mio laughed. “You’re probably right. Would you like some pictures of Stevens-Johnsons syndrome so you know what I’m missing right now?”

“I probably don’t,” Bokuto said.

“Good choice. I wish I’d never seen them. It’s pretty horrifying.”

“Gross.”

“Yup. So why the call?”

Bokuto put his feet up on a chair and smiled. “Do you wanna go out sometime?”

Mio paused on the phone. “Where to?”

“Dinner. Baseball game. The zoo? Could be anything.”

“Hm. Yeah, I guess I could,” she said with an audible smile in her voice. “When?”

“Well, I’m still in Tokyo, and I’m assuming you’re back in Osaka.”

“I am.”

“So…”

“But,” Mio said. “I could be convinced to go visit my parents next weekend.”

Bokuto sat up taller. “Really?”

“Sure! We could meet up.”

“I think I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

~

Bokuto met up with Mio a week later. They met on a Saturday morning at a small cafe downtown near the volleyball team’s dorm. Bokuto hugged her hello and paid for her coffee before they left to go walk around.

Mio was wearing wide leg jeans, a tight white top with thin straps, and a thin brown jacket. She also had on big glasses with light colored plastic frames. Bokuto thought she looked amazing. And so did everyone else from the looks they got on the street.

She was so feminine. Well-toned but soft-bodied with a cute smile and the best pair of boobs Bokuto had ever seen. Her look was unique. Sweet and warm, but fun at the same time. She had great curves and smooth skin with just a subtle tan typical of the season. It was a very different look than her sexy going out clothes Bokuto had last seen her in. But he liked this maybe even more. The glasses fit perfectly on her round face, and she held her latte with both hands as she walked.

They drank their coffees as they made their way towards the Tokyo Toy Museum that Mio had suggested. Bokuto wasn’t sure museums were quite his thing, but she’d promised it would be fun.

She’d already gotten tickets online, so they walked right in when they arrived.

The museum had a large variety of exhibits. Bokuto and Mio started off in the video game section, but neither of them were big gamers so they quickly moved on. Next they went to the board games exhibit and played a few rounds of simple kids games from their childhood. There was a mini golf section where Mio soundly defeated Bokuto whose strength proved to be a disadvantage in the tiny space. There was an arcade section, and they stood at adjacent pinball machines for nearly an hour trying to get the highest score. Bokuto won this one. This time the volleyball reflexes served him well. But Mio defeated him in three rounds of foosball right after. There were a couple exhibits specifically made for children to play around in. And Bokuto was quite disappointed when the staff determined he was too big to ride the children’s train and carousal. Luckily they were allowed into the interactive games session where they could play giant jenga and giant battleship.

The last exhibit they visited was the toy room, where they could look through and play with classic Japanese toys from the last 200 years. There were hundreds of toys, many of which neither of them recognized. But the cute designs and brightly colored paints made the room very exciting to look at. Bokuto wanted to play with all of them, but unfortunately many more fragile ones were locked up in display cases.

As they made their way to the exit, they passed through a hall called the Toy Hall of Fame where the most beloved games and toys of all time were proudly displayed with historical photos and plaque descriptions.

On their way out, they stopped at the gift shop, and Bokuto bought Mio a little hello kitty keychain which she attached to her purse. Then they left the museum and stood for a moment on the street outside.

Bokuto spoke after a moment of silence. “So, you hungry or anything? We could get lunch. Unless you have plans of course.”

Mio shook her head. “Nope! I’m free!”

Bokuto grinned. “Great! You know anywhere good around here?”

“Wanna just walk till we find something that looks good?”

“Sure!”

They started heading down the busy streets, chatting about the boutiques they passed and the people they saw. Bokuto decided to be brave and gently brushed the back of his hand against hers while they walked. Mio didn’t look at him or say anything, but she responded by lacing their fingers together and giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Bokuto couldn’t stop the goofy smile on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d held hands with someone. And he felt genuine butterflies.

They soon spotted a bistro with the delicious smell of slow cooked meat wafting out the windows.

“Wanna try here?” Mio asked.

Bokuto was always down for anything. “Hell yeah.”

They went inside and got a table by the window.

Once they’d placed their orders, Bokuto asked, “So why’d you wanna go to a museum? It was super fun, don’t get me wrong. I just thought it was an interesting suggestion.”

Mio looked up with a sheepish smile. “Can I be honest?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I always do something like a museum for first dates. I think they’re perfect. There’s a built-in agenda, built-in conversation topics, and most of all it has a clear end. So there’s no awkward “what do we do now” if it doesn’t go well and you want to leave. Way better than trying to make it through an awkward dinner.”

“Wow,” Bokuto said. “That’s actually really smart. So should I take the fact that you didn’t leave right away as a good sign?”

Mio laughed. “Yes, you should! This is really fun!”

“Awesome. I’m having a lot of fun too!”

“Great!”

“Any other first date tips?”

Mio thought for a second. “Wanna hear my favorite question to ask people?”

“Hit me.”

“Ok,” Mio smiled. “If someone had to summon you by seance, what items would they need?”

“By seance?” Bokuto clarified.

“Yeah. Like for me they would need a bottle of pinot grigio, a soccer ball, these jeans, a copy of Saltburn, and a sailboat. My spirit would come back so fast.”

“Saltburn??” Bokuto laughed. “Every movie in the world and you pick Saltburn! That’s crazy.”

“It’s so good! I think it’s my favorite movie of all time.”

“That’s insane,” Bokuto said. “Guy licked a drain and fucked a grave!”

Mio threw her head back and laughed. “The grave was an improvised scene! I love it so much!”

“That is so weird!” Bokuto laughed.

“Ok, you go now!” Mio said “Seance items!”

Bokuto leaned back in his chair to think. “Well definitely a volleyball. And probably one of my kneepads. Hmm let’s see… Hair gel, a platter of yakiniku, the ashes of T.O.P. because I think his death is the only thing that could successfully kill me, so if I’m dead then he must be too.”

“That’s amazing,” Mio commented.

Bokuto smiled and went on. “Also the Cell Saga arc of Dragonball Z, a big dog, and now that you mention it, I would also like a boat. Ooh I need a good soundtrack too! Ok, all those things, and Van Halen is just playing in the background!”

Mio was grinning. “This is why this is my favorite question! I already have so many things I wanna talk to you about!”

“Damn, that was a good question!” Bokuto agreed. “Like I wouldn’t have pegged you as a girl who likes soccer! But that’s awesome! Also you have to tell me about the sailboat!”

Conversation flowed easily as they ate their late lunch. Bokuto found out that Mio played soccer all throughout middle and high school, and she was still obsessed with the women’s national team. She also loved summer because it meant going to hang out on a boat with her friends every chance she got.

He told her about playing volleyball since the 2^nd grade, his favorite places to get yakiniku in Osaka, and the picture of T.O.P. he’d hidden in his desk back when he was 12.

Mio said that was adorable.

“Thanks. I’m bi, by the way,” Bokuto clarified. “So he was my first celebrity crush. I just didn’t realize it till high school.”

“Oh nice,” Mio smiled. “I get it, he’s super hot!”

“You’re ok with that, right?” Bokuto asked, nervous for the first time today.

“Of course!” Mio said. “My older sister is a lesbian, so I’ve been around queer people my whole life. And even if I hadn’t, I’m pretty progressive about most things.”

“Cool!” Bokuto smiled big. He’d dated girls in the past who weren’t happy about him also being into men, so he was relieved to hear it.

“Yeah. Besides, I don’t get how anyone who works in healthcare can be against it. Like how are you gonna just judge your patients like that? It’s terrible.”

“For real,” Bokuto agreed. “I’m glad to hear you say that. Cause so many of us are afraid to admit it to doctors for fear of prejudice and stuff. So I’m glad you’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Koutarou,” Mio said genuinely. “It’s definitely a work in progress, especially with older doctors. But at least at my school they emphasize how important it is.”

“That’s awesome!”

“I agree. And thank you for sharing with me. I really appreciate that.”

“Yeah sure. I, uh— from what I knew of you, I was pretty sure you’d be ok with it. I don’t tell everyone. With my career and everything. I’d really like to someday. I’m out to everyone who knows me in my personal life. I’m just not sure yet if I want to take on the responsibility of being Japan’s first queer male athlete.”

“I get it,” Mio said. “That’s a lot of pressure. If you don’t want to tell, it’s no one’s business anyway.”

“Thanks,” Bokuto said with a smile. “Even just in volleyball, I know there’s at least a few of us, but no one’s decided to take that on yet.”

Mio nodded. “Yeah, I can only imagine that would be a really tough choice. It shouldn’t be. But it is. My sister has been with her girlfriend for ten years, and she’s still not out at work or anything.”

“Damn. Japan’s got some work to do.”

“It really does.”

Their conversation carried on without any awkward gaps. By the time they realized they’d stayed at the restaurant for an amount of time that was slipping into rude, they hadn’t even gotten through all the seance items.

“Shoot, we should probably go,” Mio said when she saw their server shoot them a look. “I think they need this table.”

“Oh yeah.” Bokuto quickly grabbed their long paid check receipt and stuffed it in his pocket. “I guess it’s almost dinner hour.”

They made their way outside where they once again stood for a moment.

“Um,” Bokuto said. “I got nothing going on if you wanna hang out a little longer.”

Mio looked up at him. “Me neither.”

Bokuto grinned. “Whatcha wanna do?”

“You know, there’s usually live music in the park during the summer. We could walk down and check it out.”

“That sounds perfect.” Bokuto grabbed her hand, and they started to walk.

Mio was right. A band was playing at a big gazebo in the downtown park nearby. They made their way to the front of the small crowd gathered to listen. The band started playing a more upbeat song, and people around them began to dance. Bokuto swung Mio around, and they started to move. Bokuto loved to dance, and it turned out Mio did too. They held onto each other and made up moves and grooved to the beat.

Mio took off her jacket, revealing her cinched, low-cut top that left just enough to the imagination, and put her arms around Bokuto’s neck. It was a long reach, so Bokuto picked her up around the waist and put her on his feet. But despite how cute it was, it proved to be very hard to dance that way, so they separated again. By the end of the band’s set, they were tired out, and Bokuto put his arms around her shoulders from behind while they swayed to the final song.

As the crowd began to disperse, it was Mio this time who asked if he wanted to stay out. Bokuto wasn’t nearly ready to be done with this incredibly long date, so he of course agreed.

They ended up at a bar this time. And they sat at the counter to chat and watch people dance as they snacked on appetizers and sipped their cocktails. Bokuto was on cloud nine. This girl was amazing. Gorgeous and smart and funny and kind. Sociable and outgoing too. He couldn’t believe they’d been hanging out for almost 12 hours just the second time they’d met. Bokuto couldn’t remember ever getting along with another person so quickly and easily. He already felt like he had known her for months.

The only problem was that he wouldn’t be back in Osaka until September, but he found he didn’t care. So one of them was a pro athlete and the other an overworked medical student. Didn’t mean they wouldn’t be able to make time for each other. Bokuto was ever the optimist, and he wanted this girl by his side.

They left the bar around midnight. Bokuto didn’t mention he had team meetings starting at 6 the next morning. It wouldn’t have made a difference. He’d have hung out with Mio all night even if it meant he got no sleep. But there wasn’t much to do at that hour besides continue clubbing. If they’d been in Osaka, Bokuto might have been brave enough to ask her back to his apartment, but unfortunately a dorm full of volleyball players was not an appropriate place to take a date. He also felt that this could be something special, so he wasn’t sure if spending the night together right away would be the best choice, despite how much he wanted to.

They held hands on the walk back to the station, and Bokuto offered to ride the train with her back home. Mio had also grown up in Tokyo, so she felt comfortable navigating the city, but he didn’t want her to be alone so late at night. Not to mention he wanted to drag this night out as long as possible.

They soon arrived back at her parents’ house, and laughed as they stood on the doorstep.

“It’s funny,” Bokuto said. “I was so busy with sports in high school that I really don’t have any experience taking a date back to their parents’ house at the end of the night. This feels like a movie.”

Mio took his hands and gently swung them around. “Don’t worry. My parents are old, so they’ve been asleep for hours. Also we’re in our mid 20s, what would they even do?”

“True,” Bokuto smiled, and he took a step closer to her. “Mio, I had a really nice time with you today.”

She smiled back up at him. “Me too.”

“Are you going back to Osaka tomorrow?”

She nodded, and Bokuto sighed.

“Damn. Never thought I’d be disappointed to be stuck here playing in the Olympics.”

“Sorry bro.”

Bokuto chuckled and reached up to brush her cheek. “I wanna see you again.”

Her smile softened. “Me too. We will.”

“Good,” Bokuto breathed. He leaned closer and bent down to bring their foreheads together.

Mio closed her eyes and got on her tiptoes to nuzzle their noses.

Bokuto took that as an invitation and kissed her lightly on the lips.

She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and deepening the kiss. Bokuto tried pushing a bit with his tongue, and she parted her lips and let him in. Bokuto’s body was quickly heating up. He let his hands dropped to her waist and kissed her again and again. She kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm, until Bokuto was sure if they’d been home in Osaka he would’ve invited her inside no matter what. But they weren’t home, so he kissed her on her parents’ door step until he knew he couldn’t hold back anymore. Then he forced himself to slow.

“Fuck,” he murmured into her temple. He couldn’t remember the last make out he’d had that felt this nice. Kissing Mio was like coming up for a fresh breath of air, and now that they’d separated he felt like the atmosphere was three times as heavy on his shoulders.

“Yeah,” Mio agreed. “Fuck. Can’t believe this night has to end here cause I’m staying with my parents. Really am back in high school.”

“We could go to a hotel,” Bokuto offered before he could stop himself. “Shit, sorry. Ignore that.”

But Mio just giggled. “I could do a hotel.”

Bokuto’s heart leapt. “You serious?”

“Yeah. I am. If you are.”

“I am. But it’s our first date. Are you sure?”

“I think today basically counts as three dates. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.”

Bokuto squeezed her waist one more time. “Fuck it, let’s go.”

They took off running until they found a hotel. Bokuto booked a room, and they ran laughing up the stairs.

Four hours later, Bokuto pulled himself out of her arms and kissed her sleepy face. “I gotta go,” he whispered. “I have a meeting at in an hour.”

“Shit, really?” She rubbed her eyes and sat up against the pillows.

Bokuto marveled as the blankets fell away to reveal both their naked bodies. He couldn’t help it and wrapped himself around her one more time. “Sorry. This was so worth it though. I really wish I could skip.”

“It’s ok.” Mio kissed him. “I should get back to my parents’ house before they realize I never came home.”

They kissed a few more times, then Bokuto shifted off the bed to find his clothes. Mio reached towards the nightstand and pulled on her glasses. She looked so cute Bokuto was about to risk his spot on the national team to climb back in bed. But he took her hand and pulled her up too. They got dressed and made their way back down to the lobby, hand in hand. They returned the room key to the same overnight worker who’d checked them in a few hours ago and walked out into the bright early morning.

Before they went their separate ways, Bokuto decided to be bold. “Hey, um. Look this might be crazy. But I just spent like 24 hours with possibly the coolest person I’ve ever met. And I know it was technically one date, but like, if you’re ok with it, I’m kinda already thinking of you as my girlfriend.”

Mio smiled and turned to face him. “I am ok with it.”

Bokuto grinned. “Sick.”

“Sick,” Mio repeated.

Bokuto kissed her forehead. “Fuck, I really have to go. I’m sorry. I’d totally go out for breakfast if I could.”

“I know. But yes, go, you’re gonna be late.”

“Ok. Bye then. Have a safe train ride back.”

Mio stretched up and kissed the tip of his nose. “Call me tonight,” she said. “Bye boyfriend.”

They stepped back and waved before turning to head in opposite directions. Bokuto turned around at the edge of the street. Mio turned a second later. She stuck her tongue out and made a rock on sign with her fingers. Bokuto grinned and did the gesture back. They turned back, and despite sleeping for less than two hours, Bokuto felt full of energy. And he ran all the way to the train station.

A few months later, Akaashi called Kousuke. “Hey, would you be able to visit at the end of this month?”

“Uh, maybe! Why?”

“Do you wanna go to the Olympics?”

Kousuke paused. “The Olympics Olympics?”

“Yeah. Midori bought tickets last year, but Noya and Asahi decided to go on a world tour instead. She said I could give you one. They’re just for volleyball.”

“Holy shit. Yeah, that’d be awesome!”

“Cool. The first game is July 24th. Depending on how far they get, it’ll be up to a ten days after that.”

“Sounds amazing!” Kousuke grinned. “I’ll book a ticket now.”

Chapter Text

Watching Bokuto Koutarou play volleyball was a dangerous thing. Akaashi had fallen in love for the first time watching him play. At barely 15 he had walked into a gymnasium and seen another boy suspended in mid air. And that had been that. He had fallen in love at first sight without any tangible reason at all. And that was troubling because Akaashi was a very reasonable person. But he’d spent two years silently watching that wild boy from the sides of the gym, wondering if why he loved him would ever start to make more sense.

Now here he was, nearly a decade later, watching that same boy suspended even higher in the air. Akaashi smiled. Bokuto Koutarou was incredible. And Akaashi Keiji’s heart surged with pride.

“Oh my god,” Kousuke said beside him, amazement evident in his voice. “He’s amazing. They’re all amazing. I mean, I have no idea what they’re even doing, but I can still tell they’re amazing. You used to do this??”

Akaashi laughed and kissed his cheek. “Ok, let me explain…” he gave his boyfriend a two minute rundown of the rules of volleyball. Down on the court, Bokuto jumped and clapped to get the crowd on their feet.

“That was you??” Kousuke couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Akaashi used to play the same position as Kageyama.

“No,” Akaashi stated. “I mean yes, I played the same position, but Kageyama is a monster. He’s one of the best setters in the world.”

“Holy shit… and you were his senpai!”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “I gave him a couple pointers when we were in high school. But even then, he was better than me. I actually played with a lot of these guys though. Kind of surreal now.”

Kousuke leaned forward in his seat as Ushijima hit a ball loud enough to get a gasp out of the crowd. “Can you imagine that coming at your head??” He sputtered. “I mean that for real, how are none of them dead?!”

Akaashi laughed again. Kousuke’s excitable, childlike wonder never ceased to make his heart melt. “Yeah, you don’t really get used to that part. Your body just figures it out.”

Kousuke turned to look at him. Akaashi could see his brain trying to reconcile his poised, well-dressed, academic boyfriend with the intense display of brutal physicality he was watching below.

Akaashi gave him a knowing look. “It’s a very interesting game. There’s actually a lot of strategy involved. I promise it’s intellectually stimulating. Also I was actually pretty fit in high school.”

Kousuke tried to put on a cute face. “Do you have pictures?” he asked innocently.

Akaashi smiled. “Maybe.” Kousuke’s expression lit up, and he nodded eagerly. He went back to watching the game while Akaashi dug through the recesses of his camera roll and tagged instagram photos.

During the next time out, he showed him what he’d found. “Here. This was second year. During the Spring Tournament.”

It was a photo of the Fukurodani team before they played in the finals. Akaashi was standing next to Bokuto who was attempting to look extremely cool with a smirk and one raised eyebrow. Akaashi was deadpanning with his hands clasped in front of him.

“Baby, oh my god,” Kousuke gasped as he took the phone. “This is so cute! Look at your hair, it’s a mess. And that’s Koutarou??” Akaashi nodded. Kousuke looked up at modern day Koutarou on the court. “Wow. He looks different.”

“I guess so. His hair is slightly less stupid.”

Kousuke grinned. “And look at your little biceps! Very cute,” he commented. Akaashi rolled his eyes. “And I see those thigh muscles. Why aren’t you wearing kneepads?”

“They’re uncomfortable.” Akaashi was blushing.

“What if you had to dive?”

“I just tried not to hit my knees.”

“If you try and dive without kneepads you’re doing it wrong.”

Kousuke and Akaashi looked up to see Yachi and Midori returning to the seats beside them with a blonde girl he didn’t recognize.

“At least that’s what Yuu says,” Midori finished with a shrug.

“Hey guys,” Akaashi said as Kousuke greeted them with hugs.

“This is Hasegawa Mio,” Midori introduced the newcomer. “Kou’s girlfriend.”

Akaashi’s extreme self control was the only reason he didn’t raise his eyebrows. Koutarou has a girlfriend??

Mio nodded politely. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

He and Kousuke introduced themselves. Mio was gorgeous, Akaashi noticed. She was wearing a giant Japan jersey with Bokuto’s name and number on it, but she’d paired it with light wash jeans and a pair of brown shoes making her look very soft and cute. Her makeup was perfect too. Akaashi really wanted to ask what eyeliner she used that smudged so perfectly, but he decided now might not be the time.

They took their seats and went back to watching the game. Akaashi leaned backwards to try and catch Midori’s eyes around the back of their friends’ heads.

Kou’s girlfriend?? He said with his eyes. Why didn’t you tell me that’s who was joining us?

It was last minute, Midori’s eyes said back. She’s really cool!

How long?

Couple months.

Damn.

Yeah, I’m happy for him!

Does she know about me and Kou?

Yes, she knows.

Oh so she gets a heads up.

It’s been three years I didn’t think you’d care!

I don’t!

“What were you guys looking at when we got back?” Yachi’s voice interrupted their mental conversation. Akaashi and Midori both leaned forwards again.

“We were looking at pictures of Keiji in high school!” Kousuke said. “Look at this!” He passed Yachi the phone.

“Oh, I remember these days,” Midori laughed as she peered over. “I wish I had photos, but they’re not on my phone.”

“I have some!” Yachi pulled her phone out and scrolled way back to 2012. “This was summer training camp. It was right after I joined as team manager. I still have everyone’s pictures.” She showed Kousuke a group photo of a bunch of the players eating bbq and watermelon. You could see Noya jumping in the air. Akaashi was in the back looking like he wanted to go home.

“Oh wow!” Kousuke was eating this up. “You guys are so young!”

“16 I think,” Akaashi commented.

“I love them.” Kousuke handed the phone back.

“Mio, do you wanna see baby Koutarou?” Midori asked.

“Oh my god, yes!” Mio said.

Midori took Yachi’s phone and showed her the third year’s group photo from the same camp.

“Oh so cute!” Mio exclaimed. “He’s so little!”

Akaashi remembered thinking Bokuto was enormous even back then, but he supposed for someone who only met him recently, high school Bokuto would be dwarfed by his adult self. Akaashi realized  with some amusement, as he looked down at the pictures on his phone, that he had definitely gone in the other direction. He’d put so much effort into gaining muscle in high school only to rapidly lose it all once he went to college and stopped working out. He’d been self-conscious of it at first, but eventually grew to like his new looks.

Now despite his many still-present insecurities, present day Akaashi was much less self-conscious about his appearance. He loved his tousled hair and his makeup and his lanky limbs. He felt more like himself than he ever did when he was trying to change his body to a shape it didn’t want to be.

Akaashi looked back at a photo of him and Bokuto. Akaashi had wanted so badly to look like Bokuto and the other big players he saw. He’d been so obsessed with his captain that his desire for him had gotten mixed up with a desire to be like him. Akaashi had realized this when they started dating a few months later, and he suddenly cared significantly less about wanting to look like Bokuto and significantly more about making sure Bokuto liked to look at him.

Akaashi smiled. He had one more picture to show to Kousuke before the next set started. “Here.” He passed him the phone. “This was the photo they made me take my third year for the tournament brochures since I was captain.” Akaashi showed a headshot of himself in his captain’s uniform. He still wasn’t smiling for it.

Kousuke grinned. “That’s awesome Keiji. I can’t believe you were captain. That’s so cool.”

Akaashi gave him an affectionate smile. “Thanks. They were good times.”

~

Japan ended up losing the game to Argentina, but it was a close match. Akaashi and his friends caught the players’ eyes as they were leaving the court.

“Hi guys!!!” Hinata yelled excitedly and ran over to where they were standing.

They all waved back and cheered, and Hinata leapt into the air. The jumbotron focused on them, and Akaashi put on his model face while Kousuke and Mio waved to the camera. Thanks to Midori’s presence, a good portion of the jumbotron shots throughout the match had been of their group. The cameras had kept coming back to get glimpses of the popstar. She would smile and nod politely until they decided to start filming the game again.

Bokuto and a few other familiar faces ran up behind Hinata to greet them. Akaashi waved and held tightly to Kousuke’s hand. Mio threw her arms up and cheered, and Bokuto blew his girlfriend a kiss from the court. Mio pretended to catch it and gave the camera a big smile.

Akaashi smiled. It was cute. He wondered if Mio was actually wearing one of Bokuto’s spare jerseys.

Akaashi looked at all the national players smiling up at them, and took a moment to marvel at the fact that he’d had personal conversations with over half the starting lineup. His high school volleyball career wasn’t something he thought about much these days, but it was nice to be reminded that he used to be a part of something that felt this amazing.

He flashed a quick glance at Bokuto and managed to catch his eye. Bokuto looked back at him with that same dangerous grin on his face that he’d had since 17. So fearsome and powerful and joyous all at once. With his wild eyebrows in a deep furrow. Akaashi used to think that face was the hottest thing on the planet. He still loved that face.

His and Bokuto’s relationship had been deeply intertwined with volleyball for the first few years they knew each other. In the later years, Akaashi had stopped going to games as much, and the strategies Bokuto would try and talk about became too advanced for him to contribute anything to the conversation. So they lost one of their foundational connections, which had hurt both of them quite a bit.

But now Akaashi looked at that same grin on Bokuto’s face as he jumped on the court. And it was warm again. It felt right to see Bokuto like this. He’d missed it. It was unexpectedly nice to see him for the first time — without the pressure of feelings to complicate things — in the space where he shined the brightest.

Bokuto dropped his gaze from Akaashi to take a quick step back away from his teammates. He suddenly shouted and leapt into a perfect backflip, landing in a squat with both arms out and fingers pointed at Mio. The audience gasped in surprise, then cheered as he landed. Akaashi laughed when he saw Bokuto wink at his girlfriend before one of their managers ran up and started berating him for taking unnecessary risks like gainers on a hard court during the Olympics.

~

Japan unfortunately was knocked out by Brazil in the quarterfinals, but it was a great week of games, and especially fun being the host country. Midori had purchased their tickets for the whole tournament, so they stuck around to watch the rest of the matches. Hinata was of course partial to Brazil, despite being defeated by them. The rest of the Miyagi folks cheered for Argentina. Apparently they had a long history with their setter Oikawa Tooru. Akaashi had never met him, but it was hypnotizing to watch him play. He would have loved to play him in high school, and thought it a big shame that he’d never made it to a national tournament.

Once the games were over, Midori invited everyone to a hangout at her townhouse. It was an intimate gathering as most of the other olympic players were taking the days off to return to their home prefectures. So following the closing ceremony, Midori, Yachi, Akaashi, Kousuke, Bokuto and Mio gathered for a relaxed night.

They sat around the living room, just chatting, for a long time. Akaashi sat quietly under Kousuke’s arm. There was already plenty of loud conversation between Kousuke, Midori, and Bokuto. Mio was pretty talkative too, and Akaashi could see why Bokuto liked her.

She was funny and clever, smart and quick too. Bokuto had always been attracted to intelligent people, but Mio was both smart and undeniably cool. Akaashi had no doubt that she had been popular her whole life. Probably even made it through middle school without that much trauma. He wasn’t surprised to see that she got along with Midori very well. They were both absurdly blessed in both looks and talents, but had that true confidence that let them be kind to everyone else. Akaashi could tell she was still down to earth, especially since she was dating Bokuto who had been extremely uncool everywhere but the volleyball court.

Akaashi’s heart started to swell a bit. How interesting it was to be sitting here with Koutarou and their other friends. Both happy with their own new partners. He was so proud of them, and he tucked himself closer under Kousuke’s arm, feeling happy and comfortable enough to snuggle up even amongst company.

Since most of the group had known each other a long time, they soon started reminiscing, and the conversation turned to their best college memories and stories to entertain Kousuke and Mio with. Both were very excited to hear just how cute and ridiculous their partners were in their younger days.

Akaashi felt he had told Kousuke most of his stories by this point, so he nearly choked when Bokuto brought up a deep cut he hadn’t thought about in years.

Bokuto had turned to Midori who was sitting on the floor with her third glass of wine. “Do you guys think you can still do Heartbeat?”

Akaashi’s face turned red at the same time Midori gasped.

“Keiji,” she said as she turned to him, a smile spreading across her face. “I bet I could still do it.”

“I don’t know Midori…” Akaashi tried to put a warning in his voice.

“Wait, what’s Heartbeat?” Kousuke sat up straighter and turned to look at Akaashi.

“The Childish Gambino song,” Bokuto clarified, laughing a little as Akaashi winced. “They have dance routine.”

“Are you serious?” Kousuke’s eyes were sparkling.

Bokuto nodded. “They used to do this shit all the time! Noya and I would go to bed, and they’d be up all night writing these dumb as hell bits and stuff. Then they’d perform them the next day.”

“Baby, you haven’t told me about this one!” Kousuke was staring at Akaashi in a new light. He’d also thought he’d heard all of Akaashi’s stories by now.

“In our defense,” Akaashi said slowly. “Everything was funnier when it was 3AM.”

Midori had already run to her phone to play the song through the speakers. She ran back with a karaoke mic and started pulling Akaashi off the sofa as the opening hook played. “Keiji let’s do it!” She said with a little jump and spin.

“It’s been like 6 years!” Akaashi protested.

But Midori just started singing. “I wanted you to know, I that I am ready to go-o, heartbeat, my heartbeat.”

Akaashi shook his head, but he let himself be dragged in front of everyone. When the first verse started, he took the karaoke mic from her.

”I know what your boy like
Skinny tie and a cuff type
He go and make breakfast
You walkin' round naked.”

Kousuke gasped and started cheering in delight while Akaashi rapped along with the track, and Midori got in front of him and started doing a routine of exaggerated dance moves acting out the lyrics. Midway through the verse, Akaashi started smiling and joined her in his part of the choreography. He was not nearly as enthusiastic, but it seemed he still remembered all the moves.

Bokuto let out a loud laugh. It was just as stupid as he remembered. Only two people as beautiful as Akaashi Keiji and Mori Midori could do this without making utter fools of themselves. Akaashi was surprisingly not a bad rapper, especially when the songs suited his smooth, aloof voice. It was all the funnier when the lyrics were as dramatic and sexual as this song was.

”So we fuck 'til it come to conclusions
All the things that we thought we were losin’
I’m a ghost and you know this
That’s why we broke up in the first place. So…”

As they hit the second chorus and Midori took the vocals back over, Bokuto pulled out his phone and tried to FaceTime Noya. Luckily he and Asahi were available, and they answered the call from their hostel in Egypt. Bokuto turned the camera towards Akaashi and Midori without even saying hi. He cackled when he heard Noya yell “YOOOOOOO!!!!!” through the tiny speaker and started jumping along to the song.

By this point Akaashi was fully back into it. He was smiling and rapping louder and blushing less. Bokuto felt a wave of nostalgia rush over him. The first time he had seen this routine, they’d all been teenagers.

Akaashi and Midori had walked out of his and Akaashi’s room as soon as he and Noya got back from practice. Midori had said, “We have a demonstration.”

They had sat Bokuto and Noya down on the couch and played the song over a shitty bluetooth speaker while Akaashi pretended he was holding a mic. Bokuto and Noya were speechless for the whole performance.

“I’m sorry,” Noya had said at the end. “When did you learn this?”

“Last night.”

“You’re telling me Keiji learned all the words to a Childish Gambino song in one night? And you made choreography??”

“Well, I already knew the lyrics,” Akaashi said. “But yes.”

Noya continued. “And at no point during this process either of you thought maybe this is stupid and we should just go to bed?”

“I’m sorry, bitch, did you not enjoy the art you were just treated to?” Midori had retorted with exaggerated offense. But the routine quickly became a longstanding joke occasionally pulled out at parties if Akaashi managed to get drunk enough.

Bokuto firmly believed that Midori was one of the best things that had ever happened to Akaashi. They were both brilliant, and their spiraling, intellectual conversations went way over his and Noya’s heads. They both loved words and stories, and she’d helped him start to come up with his own, even if they were heady and ridiculous. They shared a lightening fast wit and dry humor and made each other laugh more than anyone else could.

Bokuto vividly remembered one month into living together when he’d suddenly heard shouting from the living room, and he’d run out to find Keiji and Midori doubled over on the floor, scream laughing about something they couldn’t explain. Akaashi kept trying to get back onto the sofa and collapsing on the ground again. It had been the hardest Bokuto had ever seen him laugh. He’d fallen more in love with him at the sight. And a little in love with Midori too for bringing out this side of him.

Akaashi with Midori had always been one of Bokuto’s favorite versions of him. Around her, he’d been truly goofy, which Bokuto hadn’t imagined was possible before, but he’d soon started to absolutely love. There weren’t many people who could get Akaashi Keiji to rap and dance in front of people. In fact, there might only be one. And he’d found her.

They were coming up on the final verse. Midori started laughing as she and Akaashi crashed into each other when he forgot the moves for a second and dipped in the wrong direction. “Shit! Sorry haven’t done this in years!” he gasped before jumping right back in.

Mio started cheering and dancing along from her seat on the sofa next to Bokuto. Yachi looked scandalized even though she’d definitely seen this before. Kousuke was curled up on the couch, hands on his cheeks, positively delighted.

”Are we datin'? Are we fuckin'?
Are we best friends? Are we somethin'
In between that?
I wish we never fucked, and I mean that!”

Akaashi and Midori ended the song by shouting the lyrics together and striking a final pose.

“But not really,” Akaashi spoke the final line. “You say the nastiest shit in bed and it’s fuckin’ awesome.”

As soon as it was over Midori cackled and threw her arms in the air while Akaashi put his face back in his hands and turned away from their audience.

“I cannot believe you guys just did that,” Bokuto laughed. “I was totally joking when I suggested it.”

“You guys are so embarrassing!!!” Noya shouted through the phone.

Akaashi turned around, bright red but grinning, and went back to sit by Kousuke who looked like a whole new world had just been created before his eyes.

Bokuto knew the feeling well. The first time he’d witnessed this performance, he had been dumbfounded. He’d thought that after a year together there was no way Akaashi could still surprise him. Boy had he been wrong.

Kousuke shifted his body so he was fully facing Akaashi. Akaashi hid his face again. “Keiji, that was amazing. I mean so stupid. But holy shit.”

Akaashi shook his head and blushed.

“You should see their rendition of “Problem,” Bokuto interjected. “Keiji does an amazing Iggy Azalea.”

“Keiji!” Midori shouted. She was back on the floor. “Do you remember Steve??”

“Oh god no…” Akaashi paled.

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!” Noya shouted through the phone while Bokuto yelled “STEEEEVE!!!!!!!!”

“Who is Steve??” Kousuke grabbed Akaashi’s leg. After witnessing “Heartbeat” he was desperate for more hidden lore of his boyfriend.

“It’s another bit Keiji used to do,” Midori said.

“Midori…” Akaashi warned. Steve was far worse than Heartbeat.

“Keiji, it’s so funny!”

Akaashi doubled over in mortification now.

“I wanna hear!” Mio chimed in. “Steve!!!” she echoed Bokuto.

Bokuto started laughing as the memories came back. If Keiji wasn’t going to reveal this, then he certainly was. “It was one of his recurring characters! He used to pretend to be a railway worker whose only goals were to go to rich people’s dinner parties and suck dick!”

“KEIJI!!!” Kousuke looked elated and put a hand on Akaashi’s back. He still had his head in his lap.

“But specifically Noya’s dick!” Bokuto wiped the tears from his eyes. “He never explained why!”

“Yeah, fuck Steve!” Noya’s voice came out of the phone.

“That was the problem, no one would!” Midori shouted.

Bokuto cackled and clapped his hands. “My favorite one is still, ‘there was a nuclear accident that made the air toxic to penises. But it’ll be safe inside my mouth!’”

“I’ve got one, I’ve got one! ‘I saw a poisonous snake bite your dick!’” Midori quoted. “‘But if we hurry I can suck the poison out!’”

“How did we get here??” Akaashi lamented with his face still in his hands. It had been years since he’d done this character.

“How have you never told me about this??” Kousuke laughed. “Keiji, this is so funny!”

“It was so stupid!” Akaashi shot straight back up with an emphatic finger pointed in the air, flustered but determined to defend himself. “It started out as a satirical commentary on societal pressures and sexual expectations! It was not—”

“Keiji, it was a guy who ate roast beef and sucked dick!” Midori gasped out. “You cannot get out of this one!”

“Ok wait!” Akaashi sputtered, trying to figure out how to preserve his dignity. “Hold on, I just… I fear I am losing the room!”

“The room is long gone, baby,” Midori yelled as the rest of the group collapsed in laughter. “Steve has returned, and you are not getting it back!”

Chapter Text

After much persuading, Akaashi was convinced to perform “Steve” for the present audience. Bokuto and Midori pretended to be a couple hosting the dinner party that Steve had somehow been invited to. The bit concluded when Akaashi — bright red and deeply ashamed — said the punchline, “I just read that penises have been made illegal, and the cops are on the way. Quick, hide yours in my mouth!”

As Bokuto pretended to run away, Akaashi got up from his stance on the ground (for some reason it was canon that Steve moved like a gorilla) and curled up next to Kousuke with his head in the sofa cushions.

“Sweetheart,” Kousuke said as he stroked Akaashi’s spine. “That was incredible. You are so fucking weird.”

Akaashi stuck a hand out to flip him off without raising his head.

Midori set Noya and Asahi up on FaceTime on her laptop so they could join in the fun as they went around the circle coming up with more potential “Steve” lines. Yachi took at least two minutes shaking in panic before uttering her contribution, which despite her embarrassment was still far less disgusting than Noya’s.

Inspired by “Heartbeat,” they took turns with the karaoke machine. Bokuto and Mio performed an outstanding, and very enthusiastic, rendition of “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” from Mulan.

Being a professional singer, the only way Midori could do karaoke without coming off as a douche was to pick an utterly ridiculous song. She got about three fourths of the way through Afroman’s “Crazy Rap” until she hit the line “fucked her until she turned into a white albino,” at which point the group begged her to stop.

Around midnight all the drinks he’d had finally hit, and Bokuto said he was heading upstairs to use the bathroom. He was on his way back down when he bumped into someone as he went around the corner. He tensed a little when he saw it was Kousuke.

“Oh hey,” he said. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” Kousuke said. “Actually, do you know how to get to the terrace? I’ve only been here once, and I’m lost.”

“Oh yeah. You almost made it.” Bokuto led him down the hall and outside to the rooftop garden.

“Thanks,” Kousuke said before pulling a lighter and a cigarette out of his pocket. He looked a little embarrassed. “I just…yeah. Another person’s house and all.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Bokuto eyed him as he walked to the edge of the terrace, lit the cigarette, and took a drag. Bokuto could have gone back inside, but for some reason, as they stood looking out at the Tokyo skyline, he felt compelled to stay. He followed Kousuke to the edge of the roof and rested his elbows on the stone wall of the terrace. Kousuke eyed him for a moment and smiled before looking back out at the city.

It was strange. Just the idea of this man had caused Bokuto so much pain for so long. But as he watched him now, all he felt was a draw of curiosity. Kousuke was a fascinating man. Simultaneously an academic scholar, a happy go lucky dreamer, and a tortured artist. It was difficult to picture the Akaashi he remembered with him, what with the tattoos and the cigarettes and the impracticality of the whole relationship. But the Akaashi he remembered probably didn’t exist anymore. And Bokuto realized that was ok.

“Keiji rapping,” Kousuke said eventually. “Never gets old does it?”

Bokuto laughed under his breath. “Yeah. You’d heard it before?”

“Ohhh yeah,” Kousuke said. ”I mean not like that. Just in the car or at home and stuff. The first time I was like ‘holy shit,’ but now?” He shrugged and smiled affectionately. “It’s just Keiji.”

“I was surprised too,” Bokuto said. “You wouldn’t expect him to listen to that at first.”

“Makes a lot of sense when you think about it though. He loves stories and talent and clever wordplay. You get more of that in rap than other genres.”

“Yeah. You’re right,” Bokuto smiled. Most people would probably assume Akaashi either didn’t listen to music or it was nothing but pretentious classical. But he had many hidden layers that almost no one else could see. Bokuto was glad to see that Kousuke clearly knew him really well. “He said it started when he was 13 and heard—“

“‘The World is Yours.’ Nas.” Kousuke finished the sentence. Then he turned back and smiled at Bokuto. “I know.”

Bokuto smiled back, and they both laughed. “How long did you lose him for when Atavista came out?” He asked. When one of his favorite artists dropped an album, Akaashi would bunker up in his room, eyes closed with headphones on, sometimes for days on end.

Kousuke laughed again, and a puff of smoke blew into the sky. “God. Radio silence for a week. Then he talked about nothing else for the rest of the month.”

“Figured as much,” Bokuto grinned. “When Kendrick dropped DAMN I wasn’t sure I’d ever see him again.”

“It actually wasn’t the biggest one though,” Kousuke said. “IGOR really got to him. Pretty sure he spent half of last summer listening to that.”

“Really? I’ll have to give it a listen,” Bokuto said with a chuckle. “No Drake though right?” He added with mock seriousness.

“Actually yeah, he’s really come around to him!” Kousuke said.

“What??” Bokuto was shocked.

“No, I’m kidding,” Kousuke laughed and took another drag. “Still hates him.”

“Oh,” Bokuto grinned. “Well that’s a relief.” Akaashi’s inexplicable distaste for the Canadian rapper was still a constant.

Kousuke closed his eyes. “He’s definitely a character.”

“That he is,” Bokuto agreed.

They fell into a companionable silence. Bokuto contemplated again how strange it was to be standing here with him. They both knew so much about the same person. A shared, perfectly intimate vault of knowledge about Akaashi Keiji gained through years of loving him. He wondered if Kousuke was jealous of the seven years of information Bokuto had from before they fell in love. Or if he was a bigger person than Bokuto and didn’t let it bother him.

Bokuto tried to imagine a world where he and Akaashi had never fallen in love. Where they’d just been friends and roommates, and one day he’d introduced Kousuke as his boyfriend. And Bokuto had been happy for him. Where he didn’t lose those two years not speaking.

Kousuke was a good man. Bokuto could admit that now. He was kind and intelligent and warm. Supportive and engaging. In another life, they would probably have been great friends.

“I know it’s weird,” Kousuke said suddenly.

“Hm?” Bokuto looked up.

“All of it. The complex history. The complex present. Just you and me standing here talking. Not knowing how much the other knows.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“It doesn’t have to be. I love Keiji. Even if we’re in a weird spot. I know you used to love him. Even if you don’t anymore.” He turned to look at Bokuto. “I hope you know I think you’re a good guy. And that’s based on what Keiji tells me. And also what I’ve seen of you.”

“Thanks Kousuke.” Bokuto blinked, unsure what to say. Kousuke really was a little hypnotic. He looked at you like he could see every little piece of you and loved each one.

He inhaled on the cigarette a few more times. “Keiji is hard, man.” Kousuke turned back and stared off into the night as he leaned on the wall. “He’s…overwhelming.”

“Yeah,” Bokuto said, surprised. “Yeah he is.”

“I mean he’s really…I can’t even put words to it.”

“I think you’re talking to the only other person who gets it without words.”

Kousuke laughed. “I guess so. I hope that’s ok.”

Bokuto nodded. “It is. You’re right, he is hard. And so complicated.”

Kousuke blew a smoke ring into the summer air. “Loving him is complicated. I can still barely breathe when I look at him. He makes me feel like I’d do anything and everything just to keep him there.”

“I know the feeling.”

“And yet here we are.”

“Yeah. Here we are.”

Kousuke’s face hardened. Bokuto could tell he was thinking intently about something terribly important. Something world ending to him. Bokuto thought he knew what it was. “Look um,” he said softly, “I know Keiji pretty well. And I think I can safely say, if it were anybody else, he wouldn’t have held on this long. He probably wouldn’t have started it to begin with.”

Kousuke closed his eyes. “Thanks Koutarou.”

For a few seconds they stood in silence. Bokuto watched Kousuke take one last inhale on the cigarette before putting it out on the wall. “It shouldn’t be this hard,” he said, and gently hit his fist three times on the wall where the ash had left a mark. “It shouldn’t be. When you find the right person, it’s supposed to all work out.” He put his face in his hands. “I mean, I love him so much. Fuck. Sorry. I probably shouldn’t be saying all this to you. But god! I found it. I found that all-consuming, desperate, passionate, can’t live without each other love that everyone talks about and never seems to get. And I’m thinking about—” He cut himself off. “Sorry.”

Bokuto stared. He could feel the heartache from where he was standing. All too familiar and terrible. “For what it’s worth, he feels the same about you. And if he didn’t think there was a way to get through this, he wouldn’t still be there.”

“We’ve both been trying to find one. A way out. But there isn’t one yet.”

“It’s a really tough situation.”

“I’m worried we’re just holding on. To…this truism we’ve all been told that love finds a way. That no matter what, it perseveres. Do you know how badly I want to believe that? But when does hard become too hard? And when does work become pain? When does…when do you…” Kousuke trailed off.

When do you let go? Bokuto filled in the end of his thought. He felt a shocking amount of empathy for this man in front of him, who was handling an impossible situation far better than he knew he himself would. Bokuto couldn’t imagine. As someone who had spent years living with a broken heart from loving Akaashi Keiji too much, he wanted to do anything he could to lessen that pain for someone else. He wanted to build a portal between continents so they could be together.

“I’m so sorry.” And yet that was all he could say. Kousuke looked at him and tried to smile before returning his gaze to the skyline. “Keep talking to him,” Bokuto added. “Make him talk. He’s always thinking, but he never likes to say things out loud until he’s sure. I’m sure you know that… But yeah. Don’t let him do that. Underneath that…hard, analytical exterior, he feels everything really intensely. And it scares him. It took me too long to realize that.”

Kousuke gave him a sad look. “Yeah.”

Akaashi had been watching this scene from inside the glass door. It felt surreal. To see the two men he’d loved standing together. Having a conversation he suspected was about him.

He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there when Bokuto glanced back and saw him. He smiled, and Akaashi forgot to smile back. He saw Bokuto say something to Kousuke before turning and walking towards the door. Kousuke looked back, and the look on his face when their eyes met was enough to break Akaashi’s heart. He looked up at Bokuto as he came in through the door.

“Hey,” Bokuto said with a slight smile.

“Hi,” Akaashi replied with none.

Bokuto looked back at Kousuke one more time before nodding and heading back down the hall. Akaashi nervously stepped out onto the terrace. He walked to the edge of the garden and stood silently next to Kousuke so they watched the city together.

Bokuto felt an eerie nervousness as he walked back down the stairs. He realized he had no idea if they would still be together by the time the night was over. He rounded the bend to descend further into the house and bumped right into Mio.

“Oh hi,” she smiled. “I was coming to find you. Thought you must be taking a shit or something.”

Bokuto snorted and gave her a quizzical look. “And so you came to find me?”

“Well, you left your phone downstairs. And if I was trapped on the toilet without mine, I’d be devastated. So I wanted to make sure you were ok.” She held out his phone.

Bokuto laughed. He took his phone from her and slid it in his pocket. She was teasing him. He could tell by her eyes. He reached out and put a hand in her hair and rubbed his thumb on her cheek. “Sorry. Not shitting. Just got a little distracted.”

Her eyebrows furrowed a bit, and she put a hand on his chest. “You ok?”

Bokuto pulled her closer until her head was against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. Her own arms were folded up between them.

“Koutarou?”

“Sorry. I’m ok.” He let her go, and she took a step back. Her bright eyes looked up at him, a confused little smile on her face. “I really like you, you know,” he said.

She blinked. And her smile got bigger even as the questioning look remained on her face. “I like you a lot too.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and started walking back down the stairs. “I’ll tell you about it tonight,” he promised before leaning down and placing a quick kiss on her cheek.

Neither of them had spoken yet, but even in the silence Akaashi could feel Kousuke’s pull. He wanted to give into it and fall into his arms. He wanted to kiss his handsome face and feel his warmth and ask what they’d been talking about. But he held back and waited for Kousuke to say something first.

After another minute of silence Kousuke spoke. “What’s going on,” he asked softly. “In that beautiful head of yours?”

Akaashi closed his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Akaashi took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out through his mouth. “I love you,” he said honestly. “That’s what I’m always thinking. I love you. And if I lost you it would kill me.”

Kousuke couldn’t hold back any longer. He closed the gap between them and pressed their bodies together. Akaashi let himself get lost in it. Memorize the way their ribs and hips fit perfectly against each other. Kousuke’s face in his neck and his cheek pressed to his ear.

“Cuore mio,” Kousuke said in a low voice. Akaashi savored the way it vibrated across his skin. “What are we doing?”

“All that we can do,” Akaashi whispered back.

“Will this always be all that we can?”

Akaashi pressed his fingers into Kousuke’s back. No. Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t want it to be. I know it can’t be. I don’t know. “I can’t answer that.”

“Keiji,” Kousuke pulled back until they faced each other. He put a hand on Akaashi’s cheek. “Please. Are you gonna move to Milan with me? Don’t say you don’t know. Or someday. Just tell me whatever you’re thinking. Right now in this moment.”

Akaashi blinked as he looked into those deep brown eyes he loved so much. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yes. If it means I get to be with you, then yes. I will.”

Kousuke started to cry. Akaashi leaned forward to kiss him, but he pulled back and out of his arms.

“Kousuke?” Akaashi frowned.

“Fuck,” Kousuke muttered as he wiped his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I was really hoping you’d just say yes.”

“I did say yes!”

“Sweetheart… I don’t want to force you. I won’t. Believe me, I want nothing more than to take that yes and start a life with you tomorrow. But not if it isn’t what you want. So don’t just say you’ll do it to be with me.”

“But I want to do it for you!”

“Keiji.” Kousuke winced and swallowed a lump in his throat. “Please. I can’t lead you into a life where I’m the only thing that makes you happy. We can’t build a home together if one person doesn’t actually wanna be there. If one person gave up everything to be there.”

“I’d give up everything for you,” Akaashi murmured as the tears started to make their way out of his eyes as well. “Kousuke, for us to be together, I’d give up the world.”

“You don’t get it!” Kousuke cried. “That’s the problem! You still think of it as giving up the world! There’s no joy in that. Don’t romanticize deprivation!” He paused to swallow his tears and calm his voice. “Keiji, I wish you saw it, not as giving up the world, but as stepping into a new one. With excitement and anticipation. It shouldn’t…it shouldn’t be a sacrifice.”

“I’m sorry,” Akaashi sobbed. “I’m sorry.”

Kousuke ran back and wiped the tears off his cheeks. “Please my love. Please try and find a way to see it that way. As something good for both of us. And tell me yes then.”

Akaashi nodded. “I will. I will, I promise.”

Chapter Text

After the Olympics, Bokuto returned to Osaka, and it felt like his relationship with Mio could finally really begin. They’d been together for four months, but it had all been long distance, and with both their crazy schedules, it had been difficult to make time. But whenever they did — after each FaceTime or quick one day visit — Bokuto was reminded why he’d jumped into this.

Mio was wonderful. So smart and so hardworking. She could explain things to him like exactly what was going on with his muscles every time he spiked, and she would do it in a way that made more sense to him than any personal trainer he’d had before. Sometimes she’d try and explain her actually daily work to him, and Bokuto would have no idea what she was talking about. It was all hormones and blood levels and tiny cell counts, and things that somehow made her even more attractive despite his complete lack of understanding. Bokuto had always been drawn to intelligent people. He always thought it was because he himself was such an idiot that when people used their brains it was doubly more impressive to him.

She was a good influence on him too. She was far classier than anyone he’d dated before, and on weekends they would visit wineries and nice restaurants. Bokuto got much better at taking pictures since Mio liked to pose for them whenever they went out. Being quite vain himself, Bokuto was happy to learn about the best angles and lighting to make you look even better.

But most nights were spent quietly at one of their apartments. Bokuto had decided to move, and he’d gotten himself a big, modern, three-bedroom apartment downtown. Mio would come over in the evening after classes, looking adorable in her matching scrub sets, and they would hang out in the living room while she studied and Bokuto watched game tapes. Sometimes they’d give up on work and go for a walk around the city. Then they’d cuddle up on the couch and watch movies late into the night.

Mio loved movies. She watched films from all over the world and across all genres. Bokuto’s knowledge expanded significantly just from time spent reading subtitles. She was good at predicting which movies he would like too, beyond the obvious action films.

He got to know her med school friends, who were excited to meet him after watching him in the Olympics. It turned out that the people who went into the healthcare professions were an interesting group. Especially those that went all the way to medical doctorates. He’d never met a group of people who better manifested “work hard play hard.” They were all brilliant type A’s who knew how to let loose as much as buckle down. Bokuto had no idea how they crammed so much into their schedules.

Mio could be up studying until midnight and still wake up at 5 to go on a run with Bokuto. Then she’d be off to the hospital for a full day of work and still have to study when she got home. Even still she made an effort to get into volleyball. Bokuto slowly taught her how the game worked, and she would do her best to make it to every home game. Her commentary quickly grew from “yay volleyball!” to “that was a smart play you did.”

Of course it wasn’t all perfect. Mio was constantly exhausted. She always said she knew her lifestyle wasn’t sustainable longterm. Often weekends were spent catching up on sleep. Bokuto would go to her tiny studio apartment and snuggle up in bed to watch tv for six hours straight. Some nights she would call him on the way home and say she wasn’t up for anything that evening. Bokuto understood, and always told her to take as much time as she needed for herself.

But one thing was for certain. Time with Mio was always fun. And Bokuto was in love. He treasured every moment they had together. From watching her sleep to goofing off at home to quizzing her on pharmaceuticals to peeling lingerie off her gorgeous body. It was a wild infatuation. And Mio felt the same. She loved Bokuto’s head-throwing-back laugh and his fierce intensity. The smell of his skin and the hardness of his muscles. Watching his games and hanging out with his absurd friends. It was pure and passionate and so, so fun. Every day a new adventure in the limits of youth.

One night they were in Bokuto’s apartment making love on the living room floor. They’d spent the day in the city, exploring and sipping cocktails and enjoying each other’s company.

“God, I love you!” Bokuto gasped. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but Mio grasped for him like it was.

“I love you too!” She said.

“I know.” He cradled her head against his chest. He was so much taller than her that it was hard to do this face to face. But he loved it. Holding her small body against him like the precious thing it was. “Feels so good…”

“Me too… baby you’re so good…”

Soon they came together, like they always did. Bodies so in sync it was almost scary. Bokuto moaned for a long time, until he pushed up on his arms to stop himself from crushing her. He gently pulled out and rolled to lie beside her. Mio cuddled into his arms.

“I’m so happy,” Bokuto said quietly.

“That’s good.” Mio pressed a kiss to his chest. “I always want you to be happy.”

“I am. You make me happy.”

“You make me happy too.”

And so Fall passed by. The leaves changed color and fell to the ground. The weather grew colder. Mio’s outfits grew even cuter with additional layers. The V.League season was well underway, along with the final six months of medical school for Mio. And the only thing Bokuto would change was to keep the days long, so they never had to end.

Akaashi visited Milan in September for his and Kousuke’s anniversary. It marked two years of loving each other and one year of loving each other from a very long way away. The prospect of him moving wasn’t brought up for the whole trip. Meaning it was absolutely perfect but also terrifying.

Akaashi could feel their conversations getting lighter and lighter. Because what can you do when the things that are real are also the things that you’re too scared to even think? They were drifting. They both knew it. But Akaashi couldn’t bring it up because he didn’t know what to say. And Kousuke couldn’t bring it up because he wasn’t ready for the answers. Akaashi flew back to Japan and spent the whole flight staring at the seat in front of him. He wanted to cry. But he couldn’t. Because that would mean admitting there was something to be cried about.

Kousuke started school in the fall, and they talked even less. The months went by, and before Akaashi knew it it was November. It was in this numbness that he found himself one night, sitting on his bed with Kousuke’s beautiful face looking at him through a laptop screen. They’d been talking for an hour, or at least been trying to.

Akaashi could feel his heart was on the verge of giving out. He couldn’t keep this up for much longer. He was out of time, and he knew it. Not because Kousuke wouldn’t give it to him, but because the longer they put off talking, the harder it became to deny his feelings.

He looked at Kousuke, who had been staring off into space for most of their call, even when he was talking. Akaashi could practically feel the gears turning in his mind. He wanted more than another to reach out and cradle his overworked head against his chest. To let the man he loved finally breathe. But he wasn’t brave enough. And bile rose in his throat as he fought off the voice telling him that he would never be enough. That he was too weak and too pathetic and scared to be someone who could make Kousuke happy. He hated himself. Why couldn’t he just say yes? He loved him. He’d always love him. Akaashi’s heart burned. Why can I never be enough…

“Listen, Keiji…” Kousuke said softly.

“What is it?” Akaashi murmured.

“We need to— we… I… sorry.”

Akaashi held his breath. “Kousuke, what’s going on? Tell me.”

Kousuke finally looked him in the eye. “I’m thinking I might go to Tokyo soon. I get a little break in two weeks. Would that be ok?”

“…what?” Normally that sentence would make Akaashi want to leap for joy. But this time something was wrong. His heart beat harder.

“Keiji, I think… I think I just need to see you.” Kousuke’s face was serious and sad. He looked like he was barely holding it together.

Akaashi’s blood ran cold. He recognized that expression. He himself had worn it three years ago on a balcony in Osaka. “No,” he said. “No, don’t. I know what you’re saying. If you come here you’re gonna end it.”

“Keiji…” Kousuke broke, and Akaashi saw his eyes well up. “We can’t keep doing this.”

“We can! We just need more time. There’s a solution here, there has to be.”

“Keiji. My brilliant, beautiful Keiji, you can’t think your way out of this one. It’s not… it’s not based in logic. It’s feelings. It’s duty. It’s love and need. It’s—”

“I’ll do it!” Keiji cried. “I’ll move to Milan! I’ll do it! Just please don’t leave me!”

“No, don’t say that! Please don’t say that now! We both know you can’t.”

“But why not?? Why can’t I?? I love you so much, please tell me!”

“The same reasons I can’t!” Kousuke said. “I love you too. I love you more than anything in the world. But I need to be here. And you need to be there! We both have things we need to do in this life, but those things are not in the same place. And I love you too much to not let you have those things. Keiji, the you I’m in love with is a you who exists in Japan! Who belongs there! But I don’t. We can’t…we can’t fix this, baby. It’s never gonna end.”

“I can’t do this!” Akaashi sobbed. “I can’t just never see you again! This can’t be it!”

“Keiji…”

Akaashi buried his face in his arms. It was over. He knew it. He’d known it for months and been too scared to admit it. The Kousuke he loved only existed in Italy. For either one to leave would be to give up an essential part of themselves. “No,” he cried. “Please. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. But—”

“I want to see you! One last time. Please. I know…I know it’s over, but can we do this in person?”

Kousuke wiped his weeping eyes on his sleeve. “Keiji, if you come here, I won’t be able to let you go. We’ll be right back where we started.”

Kousuke was wrong, but Akaashi couldn’t tell him just how much so. He was wrong because Akaashi knew if he went to Milan now, he’d never come back. He’d stay with Kousuke, and they’d start their life together, and he’d love him for the rest of his life.

And in another world — a world just a hair different from this one — that would have been the right choice.

But they weren’t in that world.

Akaashi pulled his sleeves down over his hands. He remembered that first day they’d kissed in his apartment. Kousuke had said it was cute. The memory sent a fresh wave of sobs through him. “I don’t know how to do this!! How can I say goodbye without being able to hug you and touch you?”

Kousuke looked away. Akaashi saw the tears running down his face. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and wipe them away. He wanted to dive through the screen into his arms and tattoo his own name over his heart. He swore he could feel his own chest aching where the words were written. Alter idem. A second self. That’s what Kousuke was to him. He was him. They were each other. How could they survive if they were split apart?

“I don’t know Keiji,” Kousuke whispered.

They kept talking. They talked until they’d said everything they could say. All the words and hopes and dreams and wishes they had for each other. Until there was nothing left.

“I would have loved you forever,” Akaashi whispered. And he knew it was true.

“I know. Me too.”

“When you’re done with school, in four years, if we’re both still single, I’ll go.”

“Ok,” Kousuke tried to smile. “I’ll call you then.”

Akaashi wiped his face on his sleeve. It was one final dream. One he hoped more than anything might come true. He knew it was probably just that, a dream. But he had to say it anyway. He needed something to cling to or he would break.

“Goodbye Kousuke.”

“Goodbye Keiji.”

Akaashi closed his computer. He took a shuddering breath and curled into a ball. He felt panic welling up in his chest. Grief so powerful it would shatter him into a million pieces if he let it surface. So he took three deep breaths in and out. In and out. In and out. He forced his body to relax. He stood up and put his laptop back in its place on his desk. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and opened the window. He let the cold air take his breath away and freeze the muscles in his cheeks. If he couldn’t move his face, he couldn’t cry or scream. He stood there until he couldn’t feel his fingers. Then he closed the window, brushed his teeth, and climbed into bed.

Akaashi didn’t leave his apartment for two weeks. He worked. He tried to read. He sat in silence. He steeled his heart. He pretended to sleep. Soon enough his jaw popped from the pressure of holding back tears. He got too tired to fight it, and so he started to cry. He woke in the night panicked and sat in the shower until the water ran cold.

He ran out of food, and could still barely convince himself to get through the door. But eventually he walked to the store, and without even looking up, he went right back. On the street, he caught a whiff of smoke from a Marlboro cigarette, and his heart stopped, and he froze in the middle of the road, running away only when the horn of an oncoming car snapped him out of his trance.

He told no one about the breakup, answering texts like normal and calls when he felt up for them. But when he spoke out loud, the tears started to come, so he always made an excuse to go.

After 18 days, Midori texted, Keiji are you ok? Unable to keep it in any longer, he texted her back with shaking fingers. We broke up. Then he stopped taking her calls.

The next day there was a knock at his door. It was Yachi.

“Aka-kun,” she whispered.

When Yachi saw Akaashi looking exhausted and broken, the tears in her eyes started to fall. And when Akaashi saw her crying for him, his walls broke, and he cried for himself too. They sat on the ground, and she wrapped them in a blanket. They huddled together while he sobbed in her arms. She cried too as she held his head to her chest.

When he was too tired to cry anymore, they leaned back against the sofa, and he rested his head on hers. “He was the love of my life,” Akaashi murmured. “And I lost him. I should have chosen him. But I couldn’t.”

Yachi squeezed his arm under the blanket. “I know. I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved him.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“I’m sorry Aka-kun,” she sniffed. “I wish I knew what to say. I wish I could say something to make it hurt less. But I don’t know how. It sucks so much.”

“It’s ok Ya-chan.” He huddled closer. “There’s nothing to say.”

Yachi stayed over that night. She helped him eat dinner. He’d lost weight. And he already had none to lose. Two days later, Asahi showed up. He didn’t say much — Akaashi knew he didn’t know how — but it was enough that he had come. Nishinoya followed after that, back from the other side of the world to make sure he was ok.

_____

A month after the breakup, Akaashi turned 25. He went to Kenma’s house and spent a quiet evening with him, Yachi, Noya, and Asahi. They didn’t talk about it. They didn’t sing happy birthday. They just sat with him and ate his favorite foods and let him be quiet amongst friends.

When the night was over, Noya and Akaashi went back to their apartment, and Akaashi replied to all the texts he’d gotten. He saved for last the one he’d been terrified to see.

Happy birthday Keiji. I hope you’re well.

He sent back, Thanks Kousuke. You too. Then he ran to his room, and Noya climbed into the bed and held him as he cried himself to sleep.

Chapter Text

Bokuto heard about the breakup from Nishinoya. His friend called to say he was back in Japan and would be staying with Keiji for a while. Bokuto didn’t ask questions. He almost called Akaashi to see how he was doing. But he knew the what answer would be. And he didn’t think his was the voice Akaashi needed to hear right now.

Bokuto had been nervous that if he ever got this news, a part of him would be happy. He was relieved to find that he wasn’t. All he felt was sorrow. Because Akaashi was hurting, and he loved Akaashi. He wasn’t in love with him anymore.

He went back to Tokyo a few days before Christmas to see his friends and parents. Mio stayed back to hunker down and study during her time off. She had boards coming up that summer, so it was really time to get serious.

Akaashi still wasn’t leaving his apartment, and Bokuto wasn’t sure he’d see him during this visit. But the evening of Christmas Day, Noya called to invite him over, and Bokuto knew that meant Akaashi was at least up for a bit of company.

He knocked on the door to apartment 7C and hugged Noya hello when he opened it. He entered the room to see Akaashi and Midori sitting drinking hot tea under the kotatsu. Bokuto grinned and greeted them. Midori stood to give him a hug, and Akaashi offered him a weak smile.

For a while the four former roommates sat under the warm table catching up on their lives. Midori was preparing for an album release, and was currently on a short break as well for the holiday. The record would drop as soon as she got back to the States after the New Year, and she’d be starting another world tour shortly after. They listened to the album together as Midori told them about the recording process and inspiration for the songs.

Noya had spent the last several months in South America, and he regaled them with tales of climbing mountains, working in the Galapagos, raising llamas, and eating some of the best food he’d ever had. He’d especially loved Colombia, and had spent two months in Medellín. He’d even learned to make Colombian style empanadas and buñuelos, and he made a batch for his friends in Japan. Bokuto was instantly obsessed. The snacks were warm and savory with yummy oily casings.

Bokuto told them about his own life. New moves he was working on and how things were with Mio. It was hard not to brag about Mio, but he felt a little guilty talking about his happiness when he knew Akaashi was going through heartbreak, so he kept comments about his actual feelings vague when he told them stories.

It almost felt like old times. And yet also very far from it. They’d once sat together like this every night, but today a somber atmosphere under toned the space. No one asked for updates on Akaashi’s life. There was only one thing to tell, and everyone already knew it. Akaashi would talk about Kousuke only if and when he wanted to. But Bokuto still asked him, “How are you doing?”

Akaashi shrugged and tugged his sleeves down over his palms. “I don’t know. I’m ok.”

The silence hovered too thickly. Now they all sat awkwardly, none wanting to bring up Akaashi’s heartbreak but all clearly thinking about it.

Bokuto sighed. One of them had to say something eventually. “I’m really sorry, Keiji,” he murmured.

Akaashi just glanced at him out of the corner of his eye before returning his gaze to the steaming mug of tea he grasped between his thin hands. “Thanks.”

There was silence again. Four old roommates and one ex-couple made for an unusual group. Bokuto felt a pang of sadness. There was a time, not so long ago, when he would have killed for the four of them to sit around the table like this again. Now everything had changed. He missed the easiness of the old days. Before everything got so complicated. It felt right for them to be together in this space.

“Midori, when are you leaving?” He asked.

“Right after New Years,” she said. “I’m in New York for the release. Then starting the tour in Canada.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” she smiled softly. “Then back to LA for the Grammys at the end of the month. Keiji’s gonna be my date.”

“For real??” Bokuto turned to look at Akaashi who almost smiled.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Not sure how, but she convinced me.”

“Noya, you going too?” Bokuto asked.

He shook his head. “Nah. She knows I hate the fancy events.”

“Right,” Bokuto nodded. Noya tried his best to stay out of the spotlight. Which worked well for Bokuto because he loved the spotlight. He’d been Midori’s date to the Met Gala three years in a row.

“Yeah. I’ll probably stick around here for a few months,” Noya said. “Then I’m joining the tour for the Europe leg.”

Bokuto smiled. It would be nice to have Noya around again. He hadn’t been back in Japan for a year.

Midori finally fell to jet lag around 22:00, and she and Noya went to bed. Bokuto stayed up with Akaashi. Neither said anything for a few minutes.

“You know,” Bokuto said with a quiet smile. “I think this is the first time we’ve really been alone since we were together.”

“Nope,” Akaashi said with a slight shake of his head.

“Really? When?”

Akaashi stared at him with one eyebrow raised before letting out a short, bitter laugh. “Christmas. Two years ago.”

Bokuto tried to place the year. “Oh shit…” It was the time he’d tried to confront Akaashi about Kousuke, and they’d ended the night shouting at each other in tears.

“Yup.”

Bokuto eyed him. “Sorry about that.”

Akaashi almost smiled. “No worries.”

“Well, I guess this is the first time since then.”

“Probably yeah.”

“I’m really glad we’re friends, Keiji.”

Akaashi finally looked at him. “Me too, Kou. Thanks for coming over.”

“It feels really good being back. I miss this sometimes.”

“Miss what?”

Bokuto gestured around them. “This. The old days,” he said. “Everything’s so different now. Midori is a superstar, Noya’s traveling the world, I made it to the top, you’re publishing a best selling manga. But here we are again sitting on the same floor. Same apartment as seven years ago. Kinda crazy actually.”

Akaashi snorted. “I feel like one of those success stories is significantly less impressive than the others.”

“Don’t say that man! Haikyuu is amazing.” Haikyuu was what Tenma was calling his new high school volleyball series. “You’re literally bringing volleyball back to Japan. It was dying off here, you know. Now there’s like twice as many high school clubs. That’s thanks to you.”

“What the hell, bitch, I was clearly referring to Noya,” Akaashi joked.

Bokuto laughed. “For real though, I can’t believe you still live here. You’re successful and mature and shit. You could probably get a nicer place.”

Akaashi smirked. “It used to take all four of us to pay rent here. Now I’m doing it alone. I’d say that’s a pretty big step up.”

Bokuto smiled. “Always so stubborn.”

They went silent again. “Too stubborn sometimes,” Akaashi said softly into his empty teacup. “I can’t even leave this apartment. I could never have left Japan.”

Bokuto felt his eyebrows raise in surprise. Was Akaashi actually gonna talk to him about his breakup?

“That was what happened.” Akaashi’s voice was barely above a whisper. “We couldn’t make it work. He couldn’t leave Italy. I couldn’t leave here. We always had an expiration date.”

“I…I’m sorry.”

Akaashi looked up at him. “Sorry,” he winced and rubbed his brow with his fingers. “I shouldn’t be…I don’t know why I’m talking about this with you. It’s just…it’s all I think about. Fuck.” He rested his elbows on the table and put his face in both hands.

“It’s ok, Keiji,” Bokuto said. “I don’t mind. Really. You can talk about it.”

Akaashi sighed. His voice was thick when he spoke. “I still don’t know why I couldn’t do it. It shouldn’t have been that big a deal to move. It’s not like I even have much holding me here or anything. His reasons for staying there were way more justified. And I liked it there. I really did. People move across the world for way less every day. But when it came down to it, I just couldn’t do it. Even for him. And I hate myself for that.”

Bokuto could tell he was trying not to cry. He held his breath as he tried to decide what to say. “I got an offer to play overseas.”

“What?” Akaashi took his face out of his hands to look at Bokuto in surprise. His eyes were red, and tears stained his cheeks.

“Yeah. In France.”

“Oh Kou… wow that’s—”

“I turned it down.”

“You…you did?”

Bokuto nodded. “I didn’t want to leave. Even for the season.”

Akaashi just stared at him.

“It was a really good offer too. Great team. People didn’t get why I couldn’t take it, and I couldn’t explain it to them.”

Akaashi wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I always thought you’d go as far as you could go. You always looked straight ahead and never back.”

Bokuto smiled at him. “I thought I did too. And I still wanna be the best I can be. I love volleyball! It’s given me everything I have. I wanna keep playing forever. But once I got the offer, I realized just knowing I could do it was enough. I made it. I did the things. I’ve been to the Olympics. I’ve won tournaments. I’ve met the best players in the world, and I’ve been able to keep up. But I don’t wanna leave my home. Or the people I love.”

“Kou… I don’t know what to say.” Akaashi was staring at him with eyes wide open, tears still leaking out.

Bokuto looked back gently. “I know it’s not the same thing. I know my volleyball career is a completely different thing than what you’re going through. I just want you to know that you don’t need to explain your reasons to anyone. Even yourself. I know that you gave it everything you had. If it’s you, Keiji, then I know you must have tried your absolute best to find a solution and make it work. If you went through all that and still felt deep down that staying here was the right thing, then it was. It doesn’t mean… it doesn’t mean you didn’t love him. Or that it wasn’t real.”

A few more tears made their way out of Akaashi’s eyes. He sniffed and wiped them away. Then he laughed shakily and said, “How is it you still know me better than anyone?”

Bokuto laughed too. “I don’t know. I barely know what I’m saying. I hope it helps.”

“It does. Thank you.”

“I’m glad.”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this,” Akaashi said. “You and me.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda strange isn’t it.”

“Somehow it’s actually not.”

“Huh.” Bokuto sat back on his hands. “I guess you’re right. What’s weird is that it doesn’t feel weird.”

“You got any bad breakups you wanna talk about?”

Bokuto laughed under his breath. “Not yet. But I’ll keep you posted.”

Akaashi rested his cheek on his curled up knees and smiled. “I’ll save my very best advice for you.”

“I appreciate that.”

“God, where was all this maturity when we broke up?”

Bokuto grinned at him. “Oh, don’t open that can of worms!”

~

Akaashi told Bokuto he could sleep on the sofa if he wanted, but Bokuto decided to head to his parents’.

They stood in the doorway and awkwardly laughed before Bokuto pulled him in for a hug.

“You’re gonna be ok, Keiji. I promise.”

“You too, Koutarou. You’re gonna be great. You always are.”

They let go. “Merry Christmas,” Bokuto smiled.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Did you know Koutarou had an overseas offer?” Akaashi asked over breakfast the next day.

Noya and Midori tried very hard not to look at each other.

“Yeah,” Noya said eventually. “Yeah, we knew.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Midori sighed. “It was back in the Fall. We knew you were still thinking of Italy, and we didn’t want anything else to influence your decision.”

“You thought if I knew he was leaving, it might change my mind?”

“Maybe. We weren’t sure.”

Akaashi sat down. He wondered if they were right. In those brief moments he’d thought Bokuto was moving to France, he’d started to panic. Not that Bokuto would be gone. But that he’d made the wrong choice. He’d thought that if Bokuto could leave, then he could have too. If Bokuto was gone, then he would be the only one of the four of them left in Japan. That had made him feel awful. Even if they weren’t together, Bokuto was still a pillar in his life. One of his ties to Japan that made it so hard to let go. So was Yachi and Tenma and even his father and this apartment.

He looked around him. There were impressions of them everywhere. On the wall by the door was a painting he’d hung to hide a dent made when Bokuto and Noya had decided that practicing in the apartment was better than walking through winter cold to go to the gym. Akaashi had kicked them out right afterwards.

There was a permanent scuff on the hardwood floor from when they’d moved Midori’s piano in and back out again. Noya had once been positive he could recreate the flaming shots he saw at a restaurant and left scorch marks on the kitchen ceiling. In Akaashi’s room, there was a purple nail polish stain that Bokuto had spilled on the carpet when trying to help him get ready for a photoshoot.

Other people were there too. The blinds were ripped where Kuroo had tried to kill a spider on the window with his fist. Kenma had tripped over his own feet and cracked a piece of the moulding with his forehead. He’d needed stitches.

Akaashi realized that lots of these he could have fixed by now, but he’d never bothered. The last seven years of his life were drawn out here. He still had the blanket that he and Yachi hid under while they watched American teen dramas instead of studying for classes. He ate from the hideous bowls Bokuto had found at a flea market.

He realized he was crying when Midori put a hand on his arm. He inhaled sharply and looked down at her across the counter. He looked at Noya sitting next to her. Even though they weren’t there half the time, Noya and Midori were also Japan to him. And he was desperately grateful they were here right now. His brain filled in Bokuto’s figure sitting amongst them, and he felt a sense of completion.

He got up from the table and hugged them fiercely. His face pressed into Noya’s neck and Midori’s head on his chest. Even if he couldn’t have Kousuke, or never fell that deeply in love again, even if his heart remained shattered for the rest of his life, he knew for the first time that eventually he would be ok. These were the people he loved best in the world.

He’d thought a few times over the years that Bokuto might have been a little in love with Midori. And with Noya too. And it was ok because so was he. And so were they. Maybe there were people out there who could have normal friendships. Who could love each other and laugh without it being life or death. But they weren’t that way. And he was grateful for it. He wished Bokuto was there too.

“We’re all tied together, aren’t we?” he said sadly. “Can’t do anything without each other, and yet we’re never in the same place.”

Chapter Text

Throughout medical school, Mio had solidified her place as the class party thrower. She wasn’t even a social chair. She just liked hosting events. So after he returned from Tokyo, Bokuto helped her decorate his apartment for an end of year holiday party. They’d decided to host it at his place since there was more space, and her apartment building’s community room was already booked.

They spent the morning putting up streamers and random Christmas and New Years decorations, then they took a trip to the grocery store for food and drinks. Mio pulled out a bunch of serving bowls and plates, and Bokuto helped fill them with a variety of snacks and appetizers.

“Place looks great!” Bokuto said when they finished setting up.

Mio added one more bottle of peppermint Smirnoff to the liquor counter and took a step back. “Yeah, I think we’re ready! Thank you so much again for this. I’ll try and make sure they don’t destroy your place too much.”

Bokuto walked closer and put his arms around her shoulders from behind and kissed her cheek. “No problem, it’ll be fun.” Mio had thanked him for volunteering his big apartment every day for a month. “When are people gonna start getting here?”

“I told them it starts at 19:00. We’ll see when they actually show up. It’ll probably be like Halloween.”

“Nice.” Bokuto had attended Mio’s Halloween party back in October. If he was honest, the memory was a little fuzzy. But he knew it had been awesome. And Mio’s costume had been the hottest thing he’d seen in his life.

He wasn’t to be disappointed by this party’s look either. Mio soon went to get ready and came out an hour later in loose, red, velvet pants with white trim and a matching bandeau top. It was without question the best iteration of a Santa outfit he’d seen in his life. She’d also put her contacts in and curled some neat waves into her long blonde hair.

“You look amazing,” Bokuto said.

Mio smiled and spun around. “Thanks babe.”

Bokuto really wanted to grab that ass and get it on right there, but guests would start arriving soon, so he restrained himself.

The party was well underway an hour later, and Bokuto was soon surrounded by drunk medical students letting loose after a long quarter. They’d locked the door to his bedroom, but the rest of the place was loud and crowded, just as he liked it.

In the kitchen there were future surgeons slamming shots and complaining about finals. In the living room was a large group dancing. One of the guest rooms had been dedicated to drinking games, and the shouts of glee and despair echoed down the halls.

Mio’s sister had come with her girlfriend, and they were setting up for a White Elephant gift exchange. Guests had brought gifts that would be exchanged later when everyone was sufficiently wasted. Mio had told them they could bring anything, from real presents to gag gifts, and Bokuto was eagerly awaiting to see what people had picked.

He heard a shout from the kitchen. A tall, future pediatrician was placing a shot glass into another med student’s hand.

“Yes!” He was yelling. “Futaba, come on, we gotta do shots for lab group 15!”

The girl, Futaba, stared up at him. “Taichi. Hiro and Mei aren’t even here. It’s literally just the two of us doing shots together.”

Taichi was not deterred. “It’s ok it’s ok!” He cheered. “Lab group 15 let’s goooo!!!”

Futaba laughed and decided to appease her drunk lab partner. They threw back the shots together. Bokuto grinned. He wondered if Mio’s lab group 6 would be doing that later.

At the moment Mio was playing slevens in the guest room. Bokuto made his way over to join. When he got there, Mio was throwing her arms in the air. “SEVEN! THREE AND FOUR IS SEVEN!!!” She looked around to pick someone to drink. Her eyes landed on Bokuto as he walked into the room. “KOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUU!!!!”

Bokuto melted at her big, bright smile. “Oh, am I playing now?” He sat down with them and winked at her as he went to pick up the cup. Mio started furiously rolling the dice as he chugged. He cheered as he slammed the empty cup down, and she let out a frustrated laugh before falling onto his shoulder.

“Sorry babe, no mercy,” he said as she passed the dice to the next player.

The gift exchange started soon, and everyone gathered into the living room. Mio’s sister called out numbers, and everyone waited their turn to pick a gift. Bokuto’s number got called halfway through, and he walked to the present pile to pick the one with the funnest wrapping paper.

“Hoo hoo Bokuto!!!” The med students chanted as he started to tear apart the paper. Bokuto had never been a neat unwrapper. It was way more fun to go at it with all he had.

As he threw the paper to the ground and saw what was in the box, he threw his head back and laughed aloud. “Who the fuck brought this???” He held up the present for the room to see: a brand new hot pink fleshlight.

The room erupted into laughter. “I know what I’m stealing!” Someone yelled.

Bokuto wrapped the box protectively in his arms. “Hell no bruh!”

Obviously no one was actually brave enough to steal the sex toy in a room full of their classmates, so Bokuto got to keep it in the end.

The party carried on well past midnight. Bokuto was drunk and having a great time with this wild group of healthcare professionals. He had no doubt that however smashed they were right now, they’d all be at their desks the next day with their noses deep in board exam flashcards and an empty energy drink can beside them.

By 2AM most of the crowd had cleared. Mio and Bokuto had stayed sober enough to make sure all their friends either uber’d home or got picked up by friends or partners. One of Mio’s good friends insisted she was fine, though she was clearly not. Mio decided that even an uber wasn’t a great option, so she convinced the girl to crash at the apartment and go home the next day.

The girl fell asleep on the sofa moments later. When everyone was gone, Mio unlocked the door to Bokuto’s bedroom, and Bokuto picked up the passed out future family practitioner and carried her over. With an amused shake of his head, he remembered the days when he’d been the one who needed to get carried home at the end of the night. He sent a retroactive thank you to his friends who’d had to lug his 90 kg ass up seven flights of stairs at 4 in the morning. He gently dropped the girl onto his bed, and Mio threw a blanket over her. Then they closed the door behind them and went out to sit on the couch.

“Man, future doctors go hard,” Bokuto exclaimed as he threw an arm over Mio’s shoulders.

She grinned. “It’s been a rough term. They needed this.”

“I mean holy shit they went crazy!”

“I know, I love it! It’s exactly what I wanted!”

Bokuto chuckled and kissed her temple. “Glad you had fun.”

“Did you?” She asked.

“Oh yeah totally! Everyone was cool. Also,” he said glancing over at her, “I think you’re probably the hottest Mrs. Claus alive right now.”

Mio smiled mischievously and swung a leg over to climb into his lap. He let his hands settle on her hips. “Thanks for helping out so much,” she said.

“Of course,” he smiled.

“You know, you went pretty crazy too.”

“Sorry.”

“No, I love it!” She grinned big again. “And everyone really likes you by the way.”

“Well, that’s good. You’re awesome for doing this.”

“You keep saying that. I just like parties.”

“No, I mean it! You put a lot of work into these, and everyone has a great time. It’s impressive. No one else is doing it.”

“Thanks Koutarou,” Mio said softly.

Bokuto kissed her. When he pulled back he happened to glance at the side table by the sofa. “Wait!” He exclaimed. “Where’d my present go??”

“Hm?” Mio turned to look. The pink fleshlight was no longer sitting where he’d left it earlier that evening.

“I left it right here!” Bokuto laughed.

“Oh my god, did someone actually steal it?!” Mio cackled.

Bokuto burst into hysterics. “Bro! That’s so fucking funny!!!”

“I’m literally gonna ask.” Mio grabbed her phone and messaged her class group chat. Lmaoooo who stole my boyfriend’s present?!

A few seconds later she laughed again and showed Bokuto her phone. A bunch of them had already laughed at the message, and one person had responded, “probably someone with anti-mullerian hormone!”

“What’s that mean?” Bokuto asked.

Mio smiled. “It’s the hormone that tells your body to grow a dick.”

Bokuto leaned back and laughed again. “Y’all are crazy.” Even after a party these guys remembered their reproductive physiology.

Mio set her phone down and put her arms around his neck. “We’re a bunch of nerds at heart.”

“That you are,” Bokuto agreed. “But I love you.”

“I love you too,” Mio smiled.

She leaned in to kiss him, and he surged up to meet her.

“Hey,” he murmured when they pulled apart. “I love you,” he said again.

“I know Kou,” she said softly. “I love you too.”

Bokuto felt a flutter in his chest. Something real and true that took him off guard.

“No, I mean it,” he said. “I really, really love you…”

Mio’s face softened, and her green eyes shined. She gently caressed his cheek. “I really love you too.”

Bokuto’s heart was pounding. He stared at her beautiful face, and nearly choked up when he realized how much he wanted to feel this way for the rest of his life. Slowly he rubbed his hands up and down her body and said, “Mio,” with a slight frown. “Do you wanna get married?”

Akaashi stared at his phone. This is not happening. It’s April 1st, right? Shit no it’s January. Oh my god!

He had Instagram open, and the first post in his feed was from Bokuto. It was a picture of him and Mio standing outside Osaka City Hall with their left hands up close to the camera. Hands with rings on them.

Bokuto had captioned it simply. Personal post, but I got married yesterday!!!!!!!!!! <3<3<3 @miooooo

The post already had over a million likes and thousands of comments. Akaashi chose not to click on them. He stared at Bokuto’s face instead. He was laughing big, and his hair seemed to stand even taller than usual. He looked so happy Akaashi couldn’t help but laugh. Mio looked stunning in a tight white dress and high heels. Bokuto dwarfed her completely.

Akaashi stared for another moment, still not sure he was seeing things correctly. Then he closed the app and FaceTimed Noya.

“I KNOW!!!” His old roommate yelled in lieu of a hello.

Akaashi laughed, still in disbelief. “He got married???”

“I FUCKING GUESS SO!!!!”

“Wait, you didn’t know?!” Akaashi was surprised. If Bokuto had told anyone it would have been Noya. Akaashi had called him expecting to get the whole story.

“NO I DID NOT!” Noya shouted. “HE DIDN’T SAY JACK SHIT!”

“Are we sure it’s not a prank??” Akaashi asked, incredulously running his hand through his hair.

“We’re sure!” Noya looked somewhere between shocked, furious, and inspired. “Mi-chan called him as soon as she saw, and he didn’t pick up. Then he texted us saying he’s on a fucking honeymoon in Hawaii! Besides, MSBY would never let him pull something like that.”

“Holy shit…”

“I KNOW!!!”

“How long have they been together again?”

“Less than a year!”

“Holy shit.”

“Tell me about it! Mi-chan and I have been together for a decade, and we’re not even married.”

“Well, you guys are pretty weird too,” Akaashi commented.

“Shut up. This is crazy. Kou’s fucking married.”

“That is crazy.”

“Oh shit,” Noya suddenly remembered that Bokuto and Akaashi used to date. “Are you ok? Is it weird?”

“Oh, I’m fine!” Akaashi assured him. “We haven’t been together in years. I’m just shocked!”

“Ok cool. Wasn’t sure.”

“Yeah, bitch, I’m good I’m just dumbfounded! How the fuck long has he been planning this?? Or did he somehow convince a division 1 team to let him go on an impromptu honeymoon?”

“It’s Kou!” Noya said. “No one can say no to him!”

“Fucking hell…” Akaashi looked back at the photos on his phone. He didn’t even see Atsumu or Hinata in any of them. It seemed they’d really done this on a whim. “Well, if anyone was gonna do that, it’s him.”

Bokuto and Mio got back from Hawaii after a week, the longest he could convince management to give him off on such short notice. They’d had an amazing time. Seven days of honeymoon bliss in a gorgeous setting with the euphoric rush at how wild they were being.

After he’d proposed, Mio had sat back in his lap and stared at his face. “Kou…”

“I’m not kidding,” Bokuto had said. And his face and tone matched his words.

“We’ve… we’ve been dating for…” she counted in her head. “Seven months.”

Bokuto’s lip twitched up in a smile. “So?”

Mio gave him a wary smile back. “You’re serious.”

“I am.”

Bokuto watched her mind fly through a thousand thoughts at once. Then she shrugged and said, “Ok.”

Bokuto grinned. “Sick.”

Mio laughed at that.

Bokuto laughed too and surged up to kiss her. “Damn. If there wasn’t a drunk med student in my bed I’d totally do you right now.”

Mio chuckled against his mouth. “She is blacked out.”

“Are you serious?”

“No! Keep it in another 12 hours if you can. You didn’t even give me a ring!”

“It was spur of the moment!”

Mio smiled. “I know, baby. I love you. I’m kidding.”

“We really can’t stay serious for long,” Bokuto laughed.

“Should we be worried about that?”

“No. Probably. Who cares?”

“Oh my god you’re crazy.”

“So are you. And I love you.”

“I love you too. You will need to get me a ring though.”

“Maybe you should get me a ring.”

“I’m a broke student, and you’re a pro sports player. Let’s be real.”

The next morning they’d woken up on the sofa with terrible hangovers. They got the passed out girl safely into an uber and went out for breakfast at a cafe nearby.

As they ate Bokuto asked, “Do you remember what we said last night?”

Mio said, “You mean getting married?”

Bokuto nodded.

“Do you feel different in the light of day?” She asked.

Bokuto shook his head. “Nope.”

Mio grinned. “Me neither.”

Bokuto had spent an hour on the phone with his manager bargaining about it, and they’d agreed to let him go in two weeks as MSBY was playing a lower ranked team and would be using their reserve players. He and Mio had booked flights and a hotel and run to city hall to claim a last minute wedding slot.

The day came, and they showed up at 8 AM in a dress and suit they’d already owned, and flowers they’d purchased at the grocery store on the way over. And in front of two random witnesses and a city hall officiate, they’d promised to love each other for the rest of their lives. Bokuto couldn’t stop smiling as he slid a ring onto her finger that they’d found at a flea market the weekend before. And Mio cried a little as she put one on his hand as well.

When they got back from Hawaii, Mio broke the lease on her apartment and moved in with Bokuto. Atsumu and Hinata, completely caught off guard, spent the day helping haul boxes of her stuff across the city.

The honeymoon bliss never ended, and for the rest of the winter they lived in a dream. And Bokuto was the happiest he’d ever been.

Meanwhile Akaashi still couldn’t talk to anyone. In January he flew to LA and watched the Grammy awards. He walked the red carpet with Midori on his arm and let his eyes glaze over at the flashing cameras. It reminded him of modeling which he loved, but modeling reminded him of Kousuke which made him ache. He met more celebrities than he could count and reached way back to his college English classes in an attempt to make conversation. But the night was beautiful and luxurious, and it somehow felt like stepping out of reality for a few hours. He even grinned and stood when Midori won the award for best song in a feature film.

He spent a two weeks in California with her and Nishinoya. Noya took him sightseeing, and Midori took him to restaurants and VIP lounges. But mostly they stayed home at their secluded $6 million home outside the city. It was a good distraction. Before he went back to Japan, Akaashi made his first ever Instagram post. Kousuke liked it, and he cried at the airport. He arrived back in Japan and got Kousuke’s drawing of Mont Blanc tattooed on his chest.

Haikyuu continued to get more and more popular. To the point where the publisher started letting Tenma and Akaashi essentially run the whole show on their own. This meant Akaashi could hole up in his apartment in a three month long heartbreak hibernation while he edited pages and avoided the outside world.

In March he got his cartilage pierced and grew his hair long until it fell in thick glossy waves nearly to his collar. Tenma convinced him to hire a second editor to lighten his load. Akaashi protested, knowing that would leave him with more time alone with his thoughts, but once the new guy started working, he realized how nice it was to be able to breathe a little.

In the Spring, Bokuto stood proudly at the University of Osaka stadium while Mio was officially hooded as a licensed doctor. He might have cried a little when he saw her walk across the stage.

Two weeks later Mio cheered in the stands as MSBY took home third place in the final national tournament of the season.

In May, Bokuto tightly hugged his wife goodbye as he left for Tokyo to practice with the national team. It was their first night without each other since they got married, and Bokuto couldn’t stand it. The next weekend he spent his day off on the train to see her for a few hours before coming right back.

They entered summer full of joy. Busy as ever, but looking forward to each day.

By Springtime, Akaashi’s friends had convinced him to start coming out again. Kousuke had had tons of friends in Japan, and most of them made an effort to keep up with Akaashi even after the breakup. They were a lot like Kousuke. Kind and smart and a little boho and mostly gay. Akaashi felt better around them.

In May, they went to a gay bar downtown, and he met an American businessman named Jeff who was twice his age. He knew it was stupid, but he hadn’t been with anyone since Kousuke, and since he knew it would happen eventually, he decided better a stupid, meaningless encounter than anything else. So he went to his hotel with him. Jeff went back to New York two weeks later, and he took Akaashi with him. When the thrill was over, Akaashi went back to Tokyo alone. Jeff said he’d call when he was next in Japan. Akaashi knew he’d never see him again.

When he got back, he called Yachi and apologized for dropping off the face of the earth. They went shopping, and he let himself buy everything he wanted. Clothes and jewelry and shoes and makeup and 20 new books. Yachi came and stayed with him for a week, and they watched movies and got takeout every night. On the third day, she sat with him at the hair salon while he bleached his hair ice blonde.

He went to see Asahi who was working as an assistant for an up and coming designer. He was busy but loving the work. They caught up while Asahi organized fabrics and drew outlines, and Akaashi offered his input. The two of them had fallen in love with fashion right next to each other, and it felt great to be able to talk about it again.

The designer Asahi worked for had a showcase coming up, and Asahi said he was sure he could get Akaashi into the lineup of models if he was interested. Akaashi said he’d think about it. He was still busy with work, but he knew it would feel great to get back on the runway again.

By June, he was finally able to think about being single with at least a little bit of excitement. It had never been hard for him to find people who were interested in him. He showed up at clubs or bars, and men appeared with offers and sometimes presents as soon as they saw his face.

He ran into a guy he’d known in college who swore up and down that he was straight, even after they slept together. Akaashi didn’t care. He wasn’t looking for love anymore. As he told Yachi, “That ship sailed away to Milan, and it’s not coming back.”

He decided to participate in the showcase, and worked with Asahi to prepare. The day of the show he stepped out onto the runway in beautiful, silky clothes and a cold smolder that made him look like a moving statue. When he posed at the end of the walk amongst the loud music and flashing lights, he realized he wasn’t even consciously trying to hold his face that way. After all, it was the expression he wore all the time these days.

The summer went on, and Akaashi worked and moved through life. As the days got longer and hotter, his mood got flatter and colder. Time passed and he barely noticed, until one day he picked up his phone to an incoming call. He raised an eyebrow at the name on the screen:

Bokuto Koutarou

Chapter Text

On a Friday night in late July, Bokuto called Akaashi. Akaashi was at home on his sofa editing chapter pages in his pajamas. He checked the name on his phone. Koutarou…? That’s weird…

“Hello?” He answered.

“Hey Keiji, it’s Kou.”

“Yeah, bitch, I know. What’s up?”

“You have any plans tonight?”

“No. Why?”

“Ok cool. I figured, just wanted to make sure.”

“That…sounded like an insult.”

“Don’t worry about it. Anyway let’s go out!”

“What?”

“Come on Keiji, I’ve been in Tokyo for a month, and you’re the only friend I haven’t seen yet.”

“What were you thinking?” Akaashi asked warily.

“Don’t worry, we can just go to an izakaya or something. We can hang out and eat chicken.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “Where?”

“Does that mean you’re in??”

“Fine.”

“Yes! I’ll text you an address. We can meet at the station.”

~

Thirty minutes later Bokuto’s jaw dropped when Akaashi stepped off the train. “Holy shit…”

“What?” Akaashi frowned.

“You’re blonde.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Really blonde.”

“Uh huh.”

“And why are you dressed like that?”

Akaashi stared at him. “Dressed like what, bitch?” He was wearing a shortsleeved, white lace blouse tucked into well-fitted, light purple pants that cuffed at the ankle, stylish tan shoes, and a small matching shoulder bag across his chest.

“Your pants are purple,” Bokuto said, even pointing a finger.

“What’s wrong with purple?” Akaashi frowned.

“And your bag matches your shoes!”

“So?”

“Who does that??”

“It’s a pretty standard fashion rule…”

“Do you do that all the time? Do you just have a bag to go with every pair of shoes? What do you do when you buy new shoes? Do you also have to buy a new bag?”

Akaashi stared at him, exasperated. “No. I’m just intentional about my clothing purchases.”

“You look like you’re ready to pose for Vogue or some shit. We’re literally going to a bar.”

“We’re also in Shinjuku. The real question is why are you wearing a sweatsuit?”

Bokuto looked down. He was wearing a matching, off-white sweatsuit with a designer logo. “Keiji, this is like a €600 outfit. I bought it in Europe.”

“It’s literally a sweatsuit.”

“It’s called streetwear!” Bokuto insisted. “This is what’s in these days!”

Akaashi shook his head and walked past him towards the street. “Whatever bitch. You’re wearing pajamas in downtown Tokyo. Let’s go.”

“They’re not pajamas!” Bokuto shouted as he trotted to catch up.

~

They got a small table in the back of a dimly lit izakaya and ordered beer, fried chicken, and a couple vegetable dishes for Akaashi.

“I saw you were in New York City!” Bokuto said after the food arrived. “Instagram,” he added at Akaashi’s confused face.

“Oh. Yeah.”

“What were you doing there? Was it awesome? Like the movies?”

“Yeah, it was cool.”

“I’d love to go someday.”

“I don’t know if you’d like it.”

Bokuto whipped his head away from his karaage to look at him, eyes wide open. “Why not?”

The corner of Akaashi’s lip quirked up. “It’s super cramped and crowded and loud and kinda dirty. Really dirty actually. Trains aren’t as good as here. It’s really disorganized. You like open spaces.”

“Oh. Did you not like it?”

“Oh no, I loved it.”

Bokuto grinned and took a long drink. “What were you doing there anyway? Something for work?”

“No just… just visiting.” Akaashi pulled the oily skin off the fried chicken and ate the meat under it.

“Who do you know in New York?” Bokuto grabbed the skin off Akaashi’s plate and popped it in his mouth. Akaashi curled his lip in disgust.

“No one,” he said as he drank his beer, grasping the glass in both hands.

“Oh. Solo trip?”

“Kind of.”

“Why not go with Noya? He’d be able to—” Bokuto broke off as he saw Akaashi’s embarrassed expression. “Wait, were you with someone?”

Akaashi pulled his legs into his chest and ducked his head down.

“Oh my god, you were weren’t you!” Bokuto looked unreasonably excited. “Who??”

Akaashi sighed. “You don’t know them.”

“Keiji, you gotta tell me more.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Come on. For real. You can tell me. I’m sure I’ve done worse.”

Akaashi winced. “Fine.” He kept his eyes closed as he said, “I might have gotten myself into a slight sugar daddy situation. Slight.”

“WHAT???” Bokuto shouted. Several people looked at them.

Akaashi put his face in his arms. “Please shut up.”

But Bokuto was already cackling. “Oh my god! You of all people, I did not see this coming! Who was he??”

“Just some businessman from the states. I met him in a bar.”

“Oh my god, Keiji, this is amazing! How old was he? Did he actually buy you stuff??”

“Probably like 45? Maybe?” Akaashi sank against the back of his chair in shame. “Less than 50…I hope. And he bought me a fucking trip to New York, bitch, that’s what he bought me! And a really nice coat.”

Bokuto grabbed his stomach and howled. “Oh Keiji I’m dying! You let an old man take you on a sex getaway to America in exchange for a coat! That’s the funniest fucking thing I’ve heard in my life!”

“Hey!” Akaashi tried to be offended. With anyone else he might have been, but because it was Bokuto he found himself starting to laugh too. “It was a $2000 coat! And it wasn’t just a sex trip, I got to see stuff when I was there!”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you saw some stuff!” Bokuto wiggled his eyebrows. “Did he even speak Japanese??”

Akaashi hid his face and held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

“NOOOO Keiji!! I hope your English has gotten better.”

“It’s perfectly passable!”

Bokuto had tears in his eyes. “So you couldn’t even talk to him?? You went overseas with a guy and you couldn’t even talk to him!! Keiji, that is so fucked!!!

“Oh my goodddd!” Akaashi groaned, face in hands. The alcohol was making him flush even more. “This is so embarrassing!”

“It really is. This is super embarrassing. And isn’t 25 a little old to be a sugar baby, anyway?”

“Bitch, what the hell??” Akaashi looked up.

“Just saying,” Bokuto shrugged. “You’re lucky you look like that. He probably thought you were 20.”

“Oh yeah?” Akaashi grabbed his drink and sat back in his chair. “And what is it I look like?”

“Oh shut up, you know you’re sexy as hell.” Bokuto sat back too and downed the rest of his beer.

Akaashi barked out a laugh. “Thanks. Ex-boyfriend,” he said pointedly.

Bokuto ordered them another round. “Don’t flatter yourself, I say this as a completely objective third party.”

“Sure you do,” Akaashi smirked. Banter felt good. And it was good to laugh. It had been a while. “Sure you aren’t just jealous you’re too old to get picked up?”

“I’m an Olympian with 3 million Instagram followers,” Bokuto countered. “I do the picking.”

“Right. That’s why your married ass is hanging out with me on a Friday night.”

“You should take it as a compliment. I could be anywhere right now, and yet I’m choosing to be here. Mocking you for boning a dinosaur. You’re welcome.”

“He really was a dinosaur…” Akaashi lamented. He thanked the server as she dropped off their beers and took a massive drink. “God, how is it possible that you’re married to a doctor and I’m getting reamed by Shaker Heights Retirement Home?”

Bokuto nearly spit out his beer. “Keiji, what the fuck?” he gasped around a laugh.

“Sorry. Too graphic?”

Bokuto wiped his eyes. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve had plenty of regrettable encounters too. You get over it.”

“Why does it still feel like you’re just bragging about how many people you’ve slept with?”

“I mean… it is pretty impressive.”

“I don’t think having an off the charts body count is the flex you think it is. And how does your wife feel about this?”

Bokuto grinned. “Honestly, it’s probably not as many as you think. And she is well aware and perfectly content. She’s my wife, of course I told her everything.”

Akaashi shook his head and laughed. “Well whatever it is, I’ve probably got you beat in average age at least.”

Bokuto gave him a quizzical smile. “Is that really the category you want to win in?”

“Probably not.”

“So you gonna keep seeing him? Get some gloves or something to match that coat? What’s the fashion rule there?”

“First of all, fuck you. And second, no. It was a month long lapse in judgment I don’t intend to repeat.”

Bokuto smiled. “I support that decision.” After a few moments, he stretched his arms and exhaled. “Well Keiji, I think you and I are both doing pretty good overall.”

“Yeah. You’re a slut, and I’m a whore. We’re thriving.”

Bokuto laughed. “You’re so dark. But still funny.”

“It’s a fine line.”

~

They hung out for a few more hours. Akaashi asked how Mio was doing, and Bokito proudly reported that she’d passed her boards exam and had just begun her internal medicine residency. Their 6th month wedding anniversary had passed a few weeks ago, but he’d been out of the country for it. So he’d be going back to Osaka to see her before he flew out for the next tournament.

Akaashi spilled all the drama in the manga world and caught him up on Ya-chan’s latest disastrous attempts at finding a boyfriend. Around midnight they finally left the bar and walked back to the station.

“I’m gonna take you home,” Bokuto said.

“I’m fine!” Akaashi protested as he tried to keep walking in a straight line. Bokuto grabbed his arm and pulled him back up. “We drank the same amount. Why are you not drunk?”

“Because you weigh like 100 pounds and clearly don’t drink very often.”

“I don’t weight 100 pounds. I’m at least 125.”

“Dude, that’s what I weighed in middle school.”

“Shut up.”

“For real though, this is what happens when you refuse to eat the chicken skin.”

“Shut up you greasy ass bitch,” Akaashi slurred.

Bokuto grinned and hauled Akaashi onto the train. “Keiji, your bitch count is way out of hand today.”

He kept a hand on Akaashi’s waist and held onto a pole to keep them from falling over.

“I feel like we’re back in college,” Akaashi sighed. “This is really embarrassing.”

“Back in college it was usually you trying to keep Noya and me from keeling over. This is a nice roll reversal.”

“Glad you’re enjoying it.”

Bokuto held onto him as the train came to a halt. He was pleased that the physical contact didn’t seem to bring up any old feelings, even when Akaashi leaned back into his chest.

Akaashi was a little too drunk to be thinking about this as intently. But he did notice that he had no qualms about using Bokuto as a support beam. A year ago he would have gone out of his way not to touch him. Now it didn’t seem so important.

They got back to Akaashi’s apartment, and Bokuto walked with him up the familiar seven flights of stairs. When they got inside, Akaashi lay down on the sofa, and Bokuto sat next to his feet.

“I’m really sorry, Kou. I did not mean to get this drunk.”

“It’s ok Keiji. This is actually pretty funny.”

“Honestly I’m not even that drunk. It’s just been awhile since I had any alcohol. Or left this place.”

“That’s ok.”

“I’m sorry for other stuff too.”

“Like what?” Bokuto looked up at him. Akaashi was lying down with an arm slung over his forehead. He really didn’t seem that drunk. He was right in the sweet spot where he could hold a conversation but all his inhibitions were gone. And with Akaashi that basically functioned as a truth serum.

He had so many thoughts in his head all the time. And normally he was too scared to ever say them out loud, but the alcohol took away that wall, and everything just came pouring out.

“I’m sorry for how shitty I’ve been to you. I mean you were pretty shitty too, but I’m pretty sure I’ve said some really mean things.”

“It’s ok, Keiji. I’ve definitely been shitty too.”

“Like I’m sorry for kissing Kousuke at Midori’s party when I knew you were watching.”

“That was two years ago!” Bokuto hadn’t thought about that moment in ages.

“I know, but I still think about it sometimes.”

“Well, I’m sorry I told you I was still in love with you when I knew you had a boyfriend. That was definitely shitty.”

Akaashi sat up a bit and looked at him. “You’re right. That was shitty. But I get it.” He lay back down. “If I found out Kousuke was dating someone I’d probably fly to Milan and just hang out naked in his house till he got back. So I can’t really blame you.”

“Yikes.” Bokuto didn’t know how else to respond. Truth Serum Akaashi said some absurd things.

“I really miss him.”

“I know, Keiji. I’m sorry.”

“Is this how you felt when I dumped you?”

Bokuto scoffed. Truth Serum Akaashi also had no tact. “I guess. Maybe? I don’t really know exactly what you’re going through cause it’s a different situation, but it definitely sucked.”

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“I was pretty devastated too when we broke up. I know I was the one that did it, but I really only did cause I knew you never would. So I had to break my own heart too. Along with yours.”

Bokuto blinked. He hadn’t been expecting this. He pulled Akaashi’s feet into his lap and rubbed his shins over the ridiculous purple pants. “I’m sorry Keiji. But it’s really ok. It’s all in the past. We were kids then.”

“We were kids weren’t we? You don’t still love me do you?”

Bokuto shook his head and laughed. “No. I don’t. I’m happily married now, remember?”

“Ok right,” Akaashi breathed in relief. “I just wanted to make sure. Things would be really awkward now if you did.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry.”

“Hey Kou?”

“Mhm?”

“I’m really glad you didn’t move to France. Like I know we’re not fucking anymore or anything but, like, I’d have missed you.”

Bokuto laughed. “What a way to phrase that.”

“Sorry. I’m drunk.”

“I know. And I’d have missed you too.”

“And thanks for inviting me out tonight,” Akaashi said. “I’m really boring without a boyfriend. First you then Kousuke then Jeff. That’s the dinosaur. I literally only leave this apartment if I’m sleeping with someone.”

“You’re welcome. And you’re not boring.”

“No, I am. It’s ok, you can say it. I’m boring and I’m lonely and I’m kind of a douche and I’m depressing to talk to. I barely talk to my friends even though they call me all the time.”

“Keiji…”

“Sometimes I think my only redeeming quality is that I’m attractive. I know always try and deny it, but I know I’m good looking. Like really good looking. I can step outside and people just talk to me and buy me stuff. People show up to have sex with me whenever I want. Even straight guys are interested sometimes. I know that’s not normal. But I wonder if I’d have gotten as far in life without that. I don’t think people would like me if I wasn’t pretty. See? Even now I sound douchey. Who complains about being too attractive?”

“Keiji, come on.”

“I couldn’t hang on to Kousuke. I couldn’t hang on to you either. And I’m pretty sure I’m not gonna meet anyone else because I never leave my apartment and I’m a massive loser.” Truth Serum Akaashi was in full control now. The floodgates were opened. “I have no idea what I’m doing with my life. I’m 25. I’m at a job I didn’t want. Which is fine cause it’s a good job. But I keep telling myself I’ll get out of it eventually, but I’m drunk enough right now to admit that’s probably a lie. I thought I’d get married, but I just lost him too. I only have like four actual friends. Two of whom don’t live here. I tell myself I’m smart and put together and responsible, but I just whored myself out in New York for a month because I’m heartbroken and desperate after spending two years in a long distance relationship that was never gonna end. I eat the same three meals on repeat because learning to cook anything new feels like too much work. And apparently the only person I can actually talk to is my married ex-boyfriend from high school and only when I’m drunk. That is the life of a loser. But at least I’m hot.”

Bokuto exhaled slowly. Akaashi had just listed all of this off like he was reading a grocery list. To him all of these insecurities were just simple facts.

“Oh Keiji…” Bokuto had never been great at comforting him in any meaningful way. When Akaashi had had these days during the time they’d been together, Bokuto’s main solution had just been to hug him and say ‘Stop it I love you and I think you’re perfect’ over and over and kiss him until Akaashi said ok. He felt bad now. That had probably just left Akaashi to keep trying to sort through all of these feelings on his own.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Akaashi sighed, pressing his fists to his eyes and smudging his mascara. “You just wanted to hang out, and now I won’t shut up about my problems. You don’t wanna deal with this.”

“No, Keiji I do! You’re my friend, and I wanna know what you’re thinking. You know, that might actually be your main problem. You hate yourself and so you assume everyone else does too.”

Akaashi sat up and looked at him. “You think I hate myself?”

“I mean don’t you? Listen to everything you just said. Why is your self-esteem still so low?”

He lay back down. “I don’t know. I really thought I was doing well. The whole time I was with Kousuke, I felt good about myself. Then he broke up with me, and I just… I got really depressed and reverted.”

“Well, maybe you should work on that,” Bokuto said. “Go to a therapist to something. Or just actually talk to people. Your friends love you, Keiji. And you have more than four. Give them more credit than that. Assuming they don’t wanna talk to you is one of your douchey qualities.”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Bokuto kept talking. Now that he wasn’t as worried about hurting Akaashi’s feelings he could give him some actual advice. “You’re a smart person Keiji. But you’re also kind of an idiot. And you need to get out of your head. You and I have the opposite problem. I don’t think nearly enough. I just talk at people and hope the words start to make sense halfway through. You think way too much, but your thoughts only make sense in the fucked up logic of your own head. I think once you start to say them out loud you’ll realize that a lot of what you think is actually pretty stupid.”

“You might be right.”

“I am right. Like traveling to Europe to sit naked in your ex-boyfriend’s house until he arrives with a new boyfriend is extremely stupid. But you pulled that scenario out fast enough that I know you’ve been thinking about it.”

“I mean, that one I realize is stupid… and he doesn’t actually have a new boyfriend. I’m just spiraling.”

“I know. Just giving an example.”

“Yeah. You’ve gotten very wise, Koutarou.”

“Not really. It’s just that now that I’m no longer infatuated with you it’s easier to call you out on your bullshit.”

“Infatuated,” Akaashi repeated. “That’s a big word for you.”

Bokuto laughed. “Shut up, asshole.”

Akaashi sat up fully and leaned back on his hands. His feet were still in Bokuto’s lap. “I’m not drunk anymore.”

Bokuto was pretty sure he was, but he didn’t question it. “Does that mean you’re gonna stop talking now?”

“No. It seems this a night of both stupidity and truth.”

Bokuto smiled. “Well, what else would you like to say?”

“Your outfit is still stupid.”

“Goddamn Keiji.”

“It’s true though. There, stupidity and truth in one. You go now.”

“Your outfit makes you look like a gay Joker. And you need a haircut. You’re like a blonde One Direction era Harry Styles.”

“You’re getting too big. It’s volleyball not rugby. What’s the point anymore? You look like you can’t jump.”

“You are a 25 year old man who dabs the grease off of his food. And that is the douchiest thing about you.”

“You’ve had the same catchphrase since you were 16 years old. And it’s the same word repeated three times in a language you don’t speak. Also, you are a 26 year old man with a catchphrase! There is no higher level of douchery.”

Bokuto just shrugged. “Hey hey hey,” he said quietly.

Akaashi snorted. Then he laughed. Then he couldn’t stop laughing. Then Bokuto started laughing too. Until they were both doubled over and clutching their sides with tears in their eyes.

“Oh Keiji,” Bokuto wiped his eyes. “You are the funniest person I’ve ever met. And also one of the best.”

Akaashi smiled at him, his pretty face bright red and unguarded. “You are also one of the best. And I love you. Even if we aren’t fucking anymore.”

Bokuto grinned. “I love you too. As a dear, deeply mentally unstable friend.”

Akaashi laughed. “Oh man what a night! Do you have practice tomorrow? Sorry I kept you out so late with my deep mental unstableness.”

“No, we get Saturday off thankfully.”

“You should just stay here. Noya’s room is always open.”

“Yeah, I might. Thanks.”

“Luckily you’re already in pajamas.”

Bokuto threw a throw pillow at him. “Fuck you and your fucking pants.”

Chapter Text

Akaashi didn’t hear from Bokuto for the rest of the summer. He’d popped in, made Akaashi rethink his entire life and laugh till he couldn’t stop, and then disappeared again. How very Koutarou of him.

But Akaashi tried his best to take his advice to heart. Two weeks later he called Midori.

“Hey Keiji,” she answered.

“Hey. How are you?”

“Good! Busy. I’m in Chicago for Lollapalooza.”

“La la what?”

“Never mind. How are you?”

“Fine. Listen, can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course. What’s up?”

“Can you start speaking to me in English?”

Midori didn’t reply for a moment. “You wanna learn English?”

“I mean, I kind of know it already. Like I can get by. But I wanna get better.”

“So you can communicate with your next sugar daddy?”

Akaashi gasped. “Bitch! What the hell??”

“Sorry, sorry,” she laughed. “Yes, I can help you with your English. “How’s this? Is this too fast or can you understand?”

”I think…yes I understand. But slower is better.”

”Wow, you sound different in English.”

”What?”

”I said you sound different. Your voice is different,” she repeated slower.

Akaashi remembered how Kousuke used to sound like a different person too when he switched between Italian and Japanese. A whole different persona. ”What do I sound like?”

”Hard to describe. Higher pitch maybe? Not as smooth.”

”That sounds bad.”

”No, that’s just what English sounds like! It means you’re doing good!”

Akaashi smiled. This was good. He needed to talk to his friends again. And he felt a little spark in his chest about having a new goal.

Bokuto went back to Osaka for a quick anniversary celebration with Mio. Soon afterwards he reluctantly got on a plane to compete for Japan at a tournament in Poland. Of course, once he was on the court, he was happy to be playing volleyball. He just wished his wife was there too.

Bokuto was trying to live a more balanced life than he had in the past, so he felt no guilt about prioritizing his marriage over his career. Part of the reason he’d turned down the offer to play in the French League was because he didn’t want to be separated from Mio for even more of the year. She was starting her first year of residency, and he was still traveling half the time. They already had very little time together as it was. But Bokuto Koutarou was a dedicated man. He could be more serious about volleyball than anyone else on his team and still have enough love and determination left over to dedicate even more of himself to the people he loved.

A month later he was arriving at a hotel in Seoul after a twelve hour flight from Warsaw. There were only two days until the Asian Championship tournament, so management decided it wasn’t worth it to go back to Japan, and the team had flown straight to Korea.

Japan won in their first match against China, and Bokuto sat down that evening to call Mio. They talked for a long time. Bokuto told her about the game, and Mio told him about her day at the hospital. At the end of the call Mio asked, “Baby, what day will you be home again?”

“September 12^th,” Bokuto said. “Don’t you have my calendar on the fridge?” Mio was the type of person to have everyone’s schedule memorized, so Bokuto was surprised she had asked.

“Yeah,” she said, “I do. Just…wanted to confirm I guess.”

“Everything ok?” Bokuto asked. Mio had been quieter than usual today.

“Yeah!” She exclaimed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Bokuto said as he laid back on the hotel bed. “How have I never noticed how fucking long these tournaments are until now?”

~

The next night Bokuto recounted how they beat Australia in three sets, but Mio’s mind seemed elsewhere.

The night after that, both were quieter than usual. Japan had lost to Iran, so Bokuto was a little down to begin with. Plus he was beginning to suspect Mio was keeping something from him. But he didn’t want to ask.

“I’ll be home in two weeks!” Bokuto said. “Almost there!”

“Yeah…” Mio repeated. “Another two weeks.”

Bokuto sighed. “Honey it’s ok. I know this sucks, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“No, it’s not that!” Mio said quickly. “It’s not that. Of course you have to be gone, I’m not mad about that. I fully support your career, that’s not what this is about.”

“Then what is it?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it. I just miss you, that’s all.”

“I miss you too… Mio are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah. Sorry, baby it’s nothing. Honestly I was just spacing out for a second, that’s it.”

Mio was a good actress, but Bokuto knew her well enough to sense she was trying to hide something.

“Babe, I can tell it’s not nothing,” Bokuto said in a slightly sarcastic voice.

“Sorry,” Mio sighed. “I’m just tired. Work is really busy, and I’m still getting used to everything. I’m ok, I don’t wanna worry you when you’re gone.”

Bokuto frowned. “I know. I’m sorry. Just wanna make sure you’re ok.”

“I am,” Mio assured him. “Just focus on your game for now. We can talk when you get home. I love you.”

“I love you too…” Bokuto wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. “Just be careful, ok. And let me know if I can do anything from here.”

“I will,” Mio said, and Bokuto decided to let it go.

But the next night he got his answers.

He’d just gotten back from a morning game. Japan had beaten India in a long match, and he planned to call Mio quickly before taking a nap.

This time Mio didn’t even try to hide it. They quickly got through their greetings, and she paused for a moment and said, “Listen, Kou… we need to talk.”

Around the same time, Akaashi was sitting at his desk at work when he heard some of his coworkers gossiping by the water cooler. He normally worked from home to avoid just these situations, but he’d made a new rule for himself that he had to leave his apartment at least once a week, so he’d been popping into the office more frequently.

It wasn’t that Akaashi disliked gossip. He was human. He loved gossip. It was the socializing that he avoided. But today he happened to hear one of his coworkers say, “They’ll have to hire someone fast if they want The Sidewalk to release on time.”

Akaashi’s ear perked up. The Sidewalk was an upcoming novel from one of the publisher’s most popular authors, Yamauchi Tomo, that was supposed to release in the Spring. Akaashi gathered some courage, took a few gulps of his completely full water bottle, and got up to refill it.

“Hey Akaashi-san,” his coworkers greeted.

“Hey. What’s up?” Akaashi said.

“We were just talking about what they’re gonna do about Hiro-san over in the lit department,” said the editor who’d spoken earlier.

“What about him?” Akaashi asked. Everyone at the company knew who Ogawa Hiro was. He was the longtime editor of the aforementioned author.

“Oh you didn’t hear?” Another coworker asked. “He had a massive stroke a few days ago. He’s probably gonna have to retire when he gets out of the hospital. Yamauchi-sensei’s book might get delayed.”

“Oh shit,” Akaashi raised his eyebrows. “He ok?”

His coworkers shook their heads and shrugged sadly. “Not sure,” one of them said. “Don’t know any details, just that it was bad.”

“Any candidates for a replacement yet?” Akaashi asked.

“I heard from a friend that they wanna do an inside hire,” said the manga departments secretary. “Yamauchi-sensei wants someone familiar with how the company works.”

Akaashi’s wheels started to turn. Was it terrible a man almost died? Of course. Could this also be a great career opportunity to finally switch departments? Yes.

Akaashi was suddenly very grateful he’d come into work today. He pursed his lips as he pondered his options. Haikyuu was still crazy. And Tenma absolutely needed him. But maybe some of his newer mangakas wouldn’t mind as much if he suddenly dipped.

“Wow,” he said. “They’re probably gonna move fast.”

“Yeah,” the secretary agreed. “I’d say within the week.”

“Damn. I hope they get someone good. Well, I’m gonna head back to my desk. See you guys later.”

Akaashi went back to his computer. He minimized the typesetting window he’d been working on and pulled up the company’s full directory. He took a picture of the department head of literature’s office number, and started typing up some bullet points.

An hour later he had his proposal memorized. He locked his computer and left the office, saying goodbye to his coworkers as he walked out the door. But instead of going home, he took the elevator up to the 11^th floor and made his way down the hall to the right office.

The door was slightly propped open, and Akaashi sighed in relief. He knocked gently a few times and slowly pushed the door further open. “Hello Ueda-san,” he greeted with a small bow. “I’m Akaashi Keiji from the shonen department. Do you have a moment?”

Bokuto frowned. “We need to talk” is never something you want to hear from your partner.

“Ok…” he said slowly. “What’s going on?”

Mio went silent again.

“Honey?” Bokuto said. “Hey, you ok?”

“Kou,” Mio began, “I really wanted to wait till you were back home for this. That was the plan. But I realized after we talked yesterday that it’s too long to wait. I have to tell you.”

“Mio, what is it?” Bokuto asked, nervousness increasing.

Mio went on like he hadn’t spoken. “And I’m so sorry it’s in the middle of a tournament. And I want you to keep playing, and I would die if this throws off your game really badly, but it’s important. I think at this point not telling you would be even worse.”

“Ok, then tell me!” Bokuto said. “Sweetheart, you’re freaking met out here, what’s going on?”

“I am…” Mio paused. “Likely with-child.”

Bokuto blanked.

Oddly, his first thought upon his brain returning was, Who the fuck still says “with-child?!” His second thought was, Well she’s clearly just saying that to be funny to make this less scary and awkward. His third thought was, Wait that means this is a situation that would normally be scary and awkward. What did she say again? His fourth thought was, OH.

“Um… How, uh— how likely is likely?”

~

Twenty minutes later he was frantically rambling to his managers about how he had a family emergency and needed to go home right now. Forty minutes later he was in an uber to the airport. Four hours after that he was standing in his apartment. Mio was seated on the sofa with her hands clasped as Bokuto paced back and forth.

Being Bokuto and Mio, the first hour after he got back had mostly been filled with, “Well this is unexpected.” “I mean, on some level it’s kinda funny. Right?” “How do periods work again?” “Dude imagine if we had a kid.” “Do you think we could get paid to be in a research study about people who rail through condoms?” and other such nonsense to avoid the actual issue at hand.

But even they had to admit that at some point they actually had to talk about it.

“Ok. So…” Bokuto had put his face in his hands and roughly rubbed them up and down for a few seconds. “Regardless of my…hyper virile sperm… What the fuck, man?”

Mio had sunk into the cushions next to him. “I don’t know.”

Two hours later they were well into the discussion. As sincerely as either of their sleep-deprived minds could be. Bokuto was exhausted, and Mio had just worked an overnight shift. Realizing they were going in circles, they decided to take a power nap and talk more when they had clearer heads. Mio set an alarm on her phone, and they both instantly fell asleep on the sofa.

They woke up hours later having silenced the alarm while still unconscious. Bokuto blinked his eyes open and saw Mio sitting on the opposite end of the sofa, staring off into space.

“Hey baby,” he said.

Mio flashed him a small, pained smile.

“Whatcha thinking?” He asked.

She shook her head. “That I still don’t know.”

“Me neither,” Bokuto sighed as he sat up.

They sat in silence for a long time, each deep in their own thoughts. Bokuto spoke first.

“I don’t know babe,” he said. His hair was sticking out in all directions from how much he’d been running his hands through it. “Like I can’t get passed the time stuff. Neither of us are ever home. That doesn’t…seem smart.”

Mio nodded. “And childcare is so fucking expensive.”

“But do you think we’d regret it?” Bokuto met her eyes. He didn’t clarify which choice he was talking about. It didn’t matter.

“I…can’t answer that Kou.”

Bokuto collapsed back on the sofa. “I know. I’m trying to figure out which would be worse. Regretting having a kid or regretting not having one.”

“It goes both ways,” Mio said. “You also have to ask what would make you happier? Not regretting having a kid and not regretting not having one.”

For another long pause they both sat in their own thoughts.

“Hey you know,” Bokuto said. Mio rolled her head over to look at him. He looked back and smiled. “This whole time — with all the reasons we’ve put out there of why not to have a baby — neither of us said it’s because we don’t want one.”

Mio smiled back. “I guess that’s true.”

“So,” Bokuto said softly. “Do you?”

A sparkle came back into Mio’s tired green eyes. She shrugged and said, “I…might?”

Bokuto blinked. “Really?”

Mio blushed. “Yeah I mean, well— we probably should have talked about this before we got married anyway — but, like yeah, I would like to have kids with you.”

Bokuto smiled big. “Really?”

Mio laughed. “Ok you go now! Do you? And be honest.”

Bokuto was practically giggling. “I mean, babe, come on. It’s you and me. You know it’d be, like, the sickest baby ever.”

This was as close as 26-year-old Bokuto Koutarou could come to confessing he wanted children.

Mio laughed. “Well shit then.”

“Yeah,” Bokuto grinned. “Shit.”

“Aww we want kids!” Mio said with a cute little kick of her feet.

Bokuto hadn’t felt this warm since their honeymoon. He wanted to leap across the sofa and wrap his wife up in his arms. “So that means…”

Mio took a deep breath and shrugged again. “You know, in the grand scheme of things, what’s one extra quarter of residency?”

Bokuto shrugged back. “What’s one less tournament?”

They smiled at each other from opposite ends of the sofa, a thousand sentiments lying clear on their faces. After thirty seconds of sparkling silence, Mio slowly crawled to Bokuto’s side and held out a fist. “Sickest baby ever?” She looked up at him through misty doe eyes.

Bokuto brought their knuckles together. “Sickest baby ever.”

Chapter Text

Three Months Later

“Hey Shouyou gimme the aux!” Bokuto reached towards the backseat of Atsumu’s car to pull the cord out of Hinata’s phone. “I wanna play something.”

“Koutarou-saaan!” Hinata complained. “Just keep listening, you’ll like it!”

Bokuto sighed. Ever since joining MSBY, Hinata had been on a quest to prove to his teammates that Brazilian bossa nova was the greatest music on the planet. It wasn’t that Bokuto and Atsumu didn’t like it, Hinata just didn’t seem to realize that it wasn’t the greatest pump up music for right before a game. It also was far too summery to fit the vibe on a cold December night in Osaka.

It was Thursday night, and the three Black Jackals had gone out to dinner at a new restaurant that had just opened up. They’d invited Sakusa, but he said there was no way he’d eat meat that he hadn’t seen be prepared himself. They’d offered to go for barbecue instead, but he’d responded that if he was going to cook his own food then he may as well stay home. They’d eventually left without him. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation.

“Guys shut up!!” Atsumu yelled from the driver’s seat. He was the only one that had a car in the city. And he was proud enough of it that he drove whenever he could despite the incredible public transportation system.

“No!” Hinata shouted, “He’s just gonna put Good 4 U on again!”

“Fuck,” Atsumu groaned. “You’re right. Kou-kun, leave the bossa on.”

“I was not!” Bokuto protested. He pouted and crossed his arms in the passenger seat. He might have pushed his Olivia Rodrigo phase a little too hard in the last few months.

After a minute, Hinata started singing along in Portuguese, and Bokuto also found his fingers drumming along on his legs. He had to admit, bossa nova did have a good groove.

He pulled out his phone to scroll Instagram and saw that Akaashi had posted a story of the view from a hotel room in Okinawa. Bokuto smiled to himself. Akaashi leaving the house was shocking, let alone traveling. His 26th birthday was in three days, but Bokuto couldn’t quite see him making an attempt to celebrate it. If he was, in fact, on vacation it was likely because one of his friends had forced him. Or he had a new boyfriend.

Bokuto swiped up and messaged him. Is this a birthday trip or are you doing questionable things again? Or both lol?

“Hey, what time are we supposed to be there tomorrow?” Hinata suddenly stopped singing to ask.

“Dude, how do you not know that?!” Atsumu yelled. They had a game tomorrow afternoon. “How am I the only person on this team who isn’t an idiot?”

“I can’t find the email!” Hinata sputtered. “And you’re also an idiot! Remember in the lockers last week—”

“Hey that was an accident!” Atsumu snapped. “And don’t talk to me like that, I’m still your senpai!”

Bokuto laughed out loud. “I’m older and wiser than both of you!”

“Ok that’s definitely not true!” Atsumu was getting worked up now. He gripped the steering wheel and glared out the windshield.

Bokuto’s phone buzzed. It was a response from Akaashi. Work trip. Doing research with an author for upcoming chapters. Also shut up bitch.

Bokuto laughed. A work trip made more sense. I see. That sounds more like you. Hope you at least went to the beach or something.

Akaashi: It’s literally December

Bokuto: You’re in Okinawa isn’t it still hot?

Akaashi: Not beach hot. Also you know I hate the beach.

Bokuto: Oh right I forgot you’re stupid

Akaashi: I don’t like sand. Dick.

Bokuto: Lmao. You gonna stay through your birthday at least?

Akaashi: No we go back Saturday.

Bokuto: That sucks. You should at least do something to celebrate though.

“Wait hold up you never told me when we have to get there!” Hinata suddenly shouted from the backseat.

“TEN! WE START AT TEN!” Atsumu barked. Bokuto cracked up. Atsumu had spent his whole life being babied and still wasn’t used to being the least ridiculous one in their group.

“For meeting or warmups?”

“Oh my god, read your fucking email for once!”

“I’m sorry!” Hinata pleaded. “I tried! I can’t get the Outlook calendar to work on my phone!”

Bokuto turned to look at Hinata. This was a problem he sympathized with. “Give it to me, Shouyou, I’ll do it. Omi showed me last week.” Hinata looked back at him suspiciously. “Dude, I promise not to change the music.”

“Fine.” Hinata reached for the seat back pocket to grab his phone, and Bokuto turned and reached his arm out to grab it.

Suddenly there was a flash. Bokuto looked up.

“SHIT!” Atsumu yelled, and then the world exploded.

I will be at home recovering from air travel, Akaashi texted back. If I work up the energy, there might be food. I’ll keep you posted. He hit send. The message sent, but the ‘delivered’ icon didn’t appear below it. He frowned and waited another few seconds. It still didn’t appear.

He shrugged and tossed his phone back onto the hotel bed. Guess he turned his phone off, he thought. Must be in a meeting. Akaashi pulled out his computer to start editing.

The world was ringing. “FUCK!” Atsumu yelled. “You guys ok?”

“Yeah…” groaned Hinata from the back seat. “I’m good. Shit, my forehead’s bleeding. But I’m ok. You?”

“Yeah.” Atsumu moved to get out of the car, but he gasped in pain when he tired to grab the door handle. “Fuck! Shit! Fuck!” He cradled his right arm against his body and used his left to open the door. “Kou-kun, you ok?” He stumbled out and looked back at the passenger seat. Bokuto had his eyes squeezed shut, and his left arm was crossing his body at an awkward angle. Atsumu’s stomach turned over. “Kou?”

Bokuto gave the slightest nod. “I’m ok.” His voice was tiny.

Atsumu stared as Hinata got out of the car from the back. “Kou,” he said seriously. “Are you hurt?”

Bokuto winced. “I think my shoulder’s broken,” he managed to say.

“Fuck.” Atsumu was pretty sure his own wrist was broken, but he could at least move. “Shouyou, call an ambulance.” Hinata nodded and grabbed his phone from where it had fallen on the floor of the back seat. Atsumu, still clutching his arm to his stomach, walked to the other side of the car.

They’d been T-boned at an intersection. Luckily no one had been going too fast. But Bokuto had been on the side of the car that got hit, and it looked like he had taken the brunt of the impact to his left side.

Atsumu glanced briefly at the other car. The driver appeared to be passed out behind the airbag. “Fuck,” Atsumu swore again. The caved in hood of the other car was preventing him from accessing Bokuto’s door, so he went back and climbed in through his own seat and leaned across the center console.

Bokuto’s eyes were still closed, and he was taking short, shallow breaths.

“Kou, I can’t get the door open. Can you move? Is it just your shoulder?”

Bokuto didn’t speak, but he nodded.

“Yes you can move or yes it’s just your shoulder?”

Bokuto opened his eyes and turned slightly to glare at him. Atsumu could see annoyance mixed in with the pain.

“Oh sorry. Just your shoulder?”

He closed his eyes again and nodded.

“Think you can climb out?”

Bokuto thought for a moment before shaking his head no.

“Shit. Shouyou’s calling for help, it won’t be long. Hang in there.”

Bokuto just breathed. Atsumu sat back down in the driver’s seat. He glanced over at Bokuto. The bent-in door of the car was pressed against Bokuto’s leg. Hopefully that was ok too. Atsumu attempted to move his wrist and yelped. “Fuck,” he winced. “That’s not good.”

EMS arrived two minutes later. Atsumu went to sit with Hinata on the curb while they cleared the cars away and helped Bokuto get out. An ambulance quickly took away the other driver. Atsumu knew it was that guy’s fault. They’d had the green light. The other guy must not have noticed when it turned.

After a quick evaluation by EMS, the three Jackals were put into a second ambulance, and the responders got to work splinting Atsumu’s wrist and resetting Bokuto’s shoulder. Atsumu and Shouyou had to look away when they did that. They’d given Bokuto something for the pain, but the sound of the pop couldn’t be taken away.

The next few hours were a blur. At the emergency room all three were given CT scans and X-rays and general workups. Atsumu had an actual cast put on. Bokuto got scheduled for surgery on his shoulder. He also had a concussion and would be held in the hospital for a few days for observation. Hinata had mostly gotten away free having been in the safest spot in the car behind Atsumu.

~

Atsumu was released the following morning after they determined that his only injury was his wrist. His precious setting wrist. He got Bokuto’s room number from the front desk and called Sakusa on his way over.

“Hello, this is Sakusa,” the outside hitter answered.

“Kiyoomi. Hey.”

“You used my actual name,” Sakusa said. “And you sound serious.”

“I am,” Atsumu said. “Listen, did they tell you guys what happened yet?” The team management had been informed of the accident as soon as the players had been admitted to the hospital. Atsumu had already gotten emails about physical therapy and injury compensation and legal representation. It had all gone over his head.

“No. What happened?”

Atsumu explained the situation. “So yeah, we won’t be at the game today. Just wanted to let you know.”

“Ok sure. But are you guys ok?”

Atsumu smiled. He knew Sakusa cared about them, but it was nice to have it verbally confirmed sometimes. “I think so. Shouyou’s fine. My wrist is broken, but not badly. Koutarou took the worst of it. I’m going to check on him now.”

He knocked on the door to Bokuto’s hospital room and slowly opened it. Bokuto was sitting up staring at the wall. He looked like he was thinking hard. Mio was seated next to the bed with a grim look on her face.

“Hey Kou, hey Mio,” Atsumu greeted. “Omi’s on the phone.” He set his phone on the bed and put it on speaker.

“Hey Omi,” Bokuto sighed. He sounded exhausted.

“Bokuto. You ok?” Sakusa asked.

“Yeah, I’m ok. My shoulder isn’t broken, thank god. But there’s a big rotary cuff tear. I’m getting surgery next week.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Yeah. Luckily that’s it though. And it’s my left shoulder, so hopefully I’ll be able to hit the same after.”

Atsumu glanced at Mio as his teammates talked. She looked as she often did these days. Exhausted and glum, like her mind was a million miles away.

Atsumu put a hand on her arm where it rested on Bokuto’s bed. She looked so different from what he was used to. Normally she was bright and happy and full of energy. Seeing her like this made his heart ache. “Hey,” he said gently. “You alright?”

Mio gave him a weak smile. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I’m fine. Just glad you’re all ok.”

“Me too.” Atsumu smiled back.

Bokuto and Sakusa talked for a while. But soon he had to get ready for the game, and Atsumu had a lot of phone calls to make. Bokuto also had a massive list of things he needed to get to, but he had no capacity left to deal with life right now.

When Atsumu left, Bokuto and Mio both let out long sighs. After a few seconds of heavy silence, Bokuto murmured, “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course,” Mio said. “I’ll always be there for you Koutarou.”

“I know,” Bokuto smiled at her. “You too. Promise.”

For a moment they smiled at each other. Bokuto didn’t know what to say. What had happened between them was still so fresh, and he had no idea how to act around her anymore.

“Do you…um,” Mio broke the silence, “Do you want me to come back home? I can help while you recover.”

Bokuto sighed sadly. It had been less than a week since Mio had decided to move in with her sister. He missed her desperately, but he also knew that living together again after what they’d been through the last few months would be a bad idea. “No,” he said softly. “Thank you. Really, I wish I could say yes. But I don’t think we should. I’ll be ok.”

Mio nodded. This hurt her too, but she understood. “Ok. But let me know if there’s anything I can do. We’re… we’re still family Kou.”

Bokuto couldn’t help it. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know. Thank you.” He leaned over in the bed and gave her a one armed hug, trying hard not to inhale the scent of her hair.

Mio squeezed him back and pressed her face to his chest. After a long few seconds they let go.

“Can I get you anything?” Mio asked.

“No, hon— er, no it’s ok. I’m fine. They’ll probably let me go tomorrow.”

“How about I get you some food?” Mio offered. Despite everything she was desperate to do something to help her husband. “I can bring groceries to the apartment.”

Bokuto wanted to cry, but he managed to hold it in. He reached out and gently brushed her cheek. “Ok. That would be great. Thank you.”

Mio nodded and closed her eyes. Her hand floated up to hold Bokuto’s palm against her face. Bokuto wanted so badly to say “I love you,” but he held it in.

The morning of his 26^th birthday, Akaashi woke up in the late afternoon. He made himself coffee, walked to his pile of recently purchased books, and picked one that sounded good.

He’d had a very bust few months. His bold move at work had paid off, and he’d been assigned to the editor position on a trial period. He would see the new novel through to publication, and depending on how the author felt about working with him, he would get assigned the position permanently. So far things had been good. Yamauchi-sensei was engaging to work with, and they’d already had some great conversations about potential book ideas for the future. Akaashi felt nervously confident that he might be able to finally get the job he’d been working towards since high school. He was grateful for his time in manga, but it had never been his passion. Novels and words and literature had always had his heart.

However they couldn’t immediately remove him from all the manga teams he was on. So now he was essentially working two jobs and was absolutely exhausted. But slowly new manga editors were being brought on to projects, and his workload was lightening bit by bit. He couldn’t wait till the day the transfer was complete. His only regret was that he might not be able to see Haikyuu to its end. It was the one story he’d been on that had actually found a place in his heart. And he would miss Tenma too.

His conversation with Bokuto last summer had really affected him. He was making a real effort to work hard and prioritize what he wanted. He and Kousuke had been broken up for a year now, and Akaashi was determined to get his life back on track. He’d chosen this life over love for heaven’s sake. He better make it worth it. He knew that’s what Kousuke would want for him too.

But the last few months had been so busy he’d hardly had any time to relax. The trip to Okinawa had been a nice little diversion — even if it was for work — but he couldn’t wait for a calm day at home. They’d gotten back Saturday afternoon, and Akaashi had taken a nap, done a couple household chores, finished up post-business trip reports and emails, and watched TV before going to bed late.

Akaashi enjoyed traveling, but he always needed a recovery day after he got back. It felt fitting that his lazy day could fall on a Sunday and also his birthday.

Around 4 in the afternoon he went back to his room where he’d left his phone and started responding to all the birthday texts he’d gotten. He’d forgotten about his unanswered message to Bokuto shortly after sending it, but when he opened his recent text threads, he realized it was still undelivered. Strange, he thought.

He went back to his inbox of unopened messages and opened his thread with Nishinoya. Yo happy birthday, his friend had sent. Then a second message, Also you heard from Kou? Akaashi texted back Thanks. And no I haven’t. Why?

After responding to a couple DM’s he checked his Instagram home page for the first time since he’d posted the story from Okinawa.

He shot up straight when he saw the first post. It was from Atsumu. The setter had posted a selfie from a hospital room. He had a cast on his wrist and was sitting on a hospital bed next to Bokuto who had his arm in a sling. On Bokuto’s other side was Hinata who had a giant bandage on his forehead. All three had their tongues out and were holding up peace signs. It was captioned, A little banged up but we’re doing ok! Thanks for all the messages and well wishes! Hopefully back on the court soon! We love you guys! <3 #msby #blackjakals

Akaashi stared. What the fuck…

He checked the MSBY official instagram page too. They had reposted Atsumu’s post, and Friday morning had posted a picture of the same group of three from their last game. It was captioned, We regret to inform you that we are missing some of our Jackals tonight due to injuries. Please wish them the best, and let’s hope they recover soon! @bokutokoutarou @hinatashoyovolleyball @miyaatsumuofficial.

Akaashi was starting to panic. They all looked fine at least. But he was mostly horrified that he hadn’t known. Was he so disconnected from reality that his friend got injured and he didn’t hear about it for three days?? He texted Noya and Midori.

Guys was Koutarou in an accident or something?

They didn’t text back understandably. It was the middle of the night in the States still. Akaashi pondered who else he might contact and called Kuroo who didn’t answer. In the end he decided to be direct and called Hinata, hoping his number hadn’t changed since high school.

“Hi Akaashi-san!” he answered.

“Hinata,”Akaashi said, a little surprised he’d picked up. “Hi. Are you guys ok? What happened?”

“Oh. You just heard? Yeah, we got in a car accident Thursday night. We’re ok though.”

Akaashi thought back. Thursday night… Oh god that was when we were texting… Was that the moment it happened?

”Who was driving?” He asked. If Bokuto got into an accident because he was texting Akaashi back, he was going to kill him.

“Atsumu-san. But it wasn’t his fault. Other guy was drunk.”

Akaashi felt a little relieved. “Oh. Are you sure you guys are ok?”

“Mostly,” Hinata said. “I’m fine. Atsumu-san broke his wrist, and Koutarou-san tore his shoulder or something. Concussion too.”

“Oh wow…” Akaashi felt terrible. “Is Koutarou with you?”

“No, I’m at home, and he’s probably still at the hospital. Were…um…were you expecting to hear from him or something?”

Hinata sounded so polite that Akaashi cringed. He wondered if Bokuto’s friends were weirded out by them rekindling their friendship this last year. He decided to let it slide. “No. I just feel bad. Should probably give my…um…condolences?…or whatever.”

“Oh. Well, his phone got smashed in the accident, so he hasn’t been able to call anyone. He’ll probably get a new one soon though. He should be getting released today.”

“Ok. I’ll wait for that then. Thanks Hinata.”

“No problem.”

“Um. Glad you’re ok.”

“Thanks. Me too.”

“Ok well…have a good one…” Akaashi cringed again. Why did he have to be so awkward?

“You too! Bye Akaashi-san!”

Akaashi hung up and flopped down face first onto his bed.

Later that night, Bokuto posted a close friends story. It was just a text post. “Got a new phone! My number is the same but I lost all my contacts. So text me and I’ll save them. Thanks guys!”

Akaashi started to text, then hesitated and hit call instead.

“Hey Keiji!” Bokuto’s voice sounded normal when he answered, and Akaashi breathed a little easier.

“Hey!” Akaashi stood up straight. “How’d you know it was me?”

“You still have the same number.”

“Oh. Wow. So do you.”

“Yup. Got lucky there at least. Lost most of my messages and pictures though which sucks.”

“You didn’t have a backup?”

“I kept forgetting to do it. But I only lost stuff from this year, so could be worse.”

“Kou…” Akaashi sighed.

“Leave me alone, I wasn’t planning to get in a car crash.”

“No one ever is. That is, in fact, the point of having a backup.”

“Stop saying things that make sense.”

“Sorry. Anyway, how are you doing?”

“Eh,” Bokuto sighed. “I’m ok. They’re gonna sew my shoulder back together on Friday. Gonna be in a sling for six weeks which sucks ass, but could’ve been way worse.”

“That’s rough. I’m sorry. Does it hurt?”

“Not as bad as it did at first.”

“Oh no. Was it bad?”

“Yeah, hurt like a motherfucker! But I got to experience morphine, so that was fun. And the meds they gave me for now have me on another planet I swear.”

Akaashi chuckled. “Oh my god.”

“Kidding. Kind of. How are you?”

“I’m the same,” Akaashi said. “No accidents. Or potential drug addictions.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah…” Akaashi didn’t want to talk about himself right now. “What about volleyball? You gonna be able to play this season?”

He heard Bokuto sigh again. “Maybe. Hopefully. Gotta let it heal, then I’ll be in PT for a while. Atsumu too. They’re hoping we’ll at least be back to practice sometime in March. We’re supposed to play for the national team all summer so that’s a little scary. I’ll have to be back by then.”

“Don’t push yourself,” Akaashi warned. “It’ll just make it worse.”

“I know, I know. I’ll be careful. It’s my career, I’m not gonna be stupid.”

“Ok. That’s good.”

“Yup.”

After a pause Akaashi asked, “How’s Mio? Guess it’s nice to be married to a doctor at times like these.”

Bokuto didn’t respond.

“Kou?” Akaashi asked. “You there?”

“Yeah! Um. Mio’s ok. Uh…” Bokuto let out a deep sigh. “Listen Keiji… it’s a long story, but, we actually decided to separate, like, literally two weeks ago.”

Akaashi’s face turned bright red, and his eyes widened. He felt even worse now. Not that he had any way of knowing, but what a time to bring it up! “Oh… oh Kou, I’m sorry. That… that’s… bad timing.” Akaashi winced. He was absolutely awful at comforting people. It was even harder over the phone.

“Thanks, um. Yeah, I guess it was bad timing…”

“I’m sorry,” Akaashi winced. “That was not the right thing to say.”

“It’s fine Keiji.”

“Are you… are you ok?”

“Well…” Bokuto hesitated for a moment, as if deciding how much he wanted to reveal. “I guess not really.” He paused again, and Akaashi desperately racked his brain for something to say. Luckily Bokuto continued, “But at least I get a break from everything now. Maybe the accident was a blessing in disguise.”

Akaashi’s heart clenched at the forced optimism. Bokuto was always so bright. In high school anything like this would have had him locked in his room for months. But he was so much stronger now. “Kou…”

“I know,” Bokuto said. He knew how hard expressing empathy could be for Akaashi, so he spared him the discomfort. “It sucks. It really sucks. But I’ll be ok.”

“Ok,” Akaashi said. He wanted to say more but had no idea what.

“I should go,” Bokuto said. “Coach is calling me.”

Akaashi tried not to sigh in relief. “Right. Well, I guess lemme know if you need anything.”

“Yeah. Sure. Really, I’ll be ok.”

“Ok Kou.”

“Thanks for calling Keiji. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Of course. Bye.”

Akaashi hung up the phone and threw himself onto his bed, writhing in cringe. Poor Koutarou. His marriage had fallen apart, and he’d nearly lost his whole career in less than a month. And the best Keiji could do was “bad timing”?!

He wanted to kick himself.

Chapter Text

A week after he talked to Bokuto, Akaashi got a FaceTime call from Midori. He answered but put the phone on his desk with the camera facing the ceiling. “Hey.”

“Hi Keiji!” Her voice came out of the speaker. “Why can’t I see you?”

Akaashi stuck his hand over the phone and waved. Midori laughed. She turned the camera behind her, and Akaashi saw Noya carrying bags. “Hey Noya,” he said. It looked like they were at the airport. “Where are you guys?”

“We’re going to see Koutarou,” Midori told him. “Do you wanna come?”

“Wait what? Right now? I thought you were in New York.”

“I moved some stuff around, so we’ve got a couple days,” Midori said. “He just had surgery two days ago, so we figured we should go check on him.”

Akaashi spotted a sign written in Japanese behind them. “Wait, you’re already in Osaka?!”

“Yup! You should come! If you leave now, you could be here by dinner.”

Akaashi sighed and checked his calendar. He had nothing scheduled that he had to be into the office for. If he just brought his work laptop along he could take few days. But just the thought of a spur of the moment trip was already stressing him out. “Ah. Well, yeah, I guess I’m free. But I don’t know.”

“Keiji, he almost died.”

“I’m pretty sure he didn’t…”

“Well anyway, don’t you wanna see me and Yuu? We only have a few days, so we probably won’t make it to Tokyo this time.”

Akaashi had to admit she had a point. Also he did want to see Bokuto. “Fine. I’ll head out soon.”

“Yayyy!”

~

As Akaashi got ready to go, he started thinking about the last time Bokuto had been injured. Akaashi’s second year of college, he’d gotten a phone call during class from an unknown number and let it go to voicemail. When he checked it afterwards it said, “Hello Akaashi-san. This is —— Hospital. You’re listed as the emergency contact for Bokuto Koutarou-san. We are calling to let you know he was brought into our emergency room. Please give us a call back for more information. Thank you!”

Akaashi had panicked for a brief moment before gathering his thoughts and calling Noya.

“Oh yeah,” the libero had said. “During practice he was trying to balance with each foot on a ball, and he slipped and knocked himself out on the ground. I think he’s fine.” “Oh my god,” Akaashi had rolled his eyes before hopping on the train to the hospital.

Bokuto had gotten a concussion and a cracked rib. When he’d seen Akaashi enter his hospital room he’d yelled “Keiji!!” and tried to get up and hug him which promptly made him puke on the floor. They’d both spent the next 20 minutes profusely apologizing to the nursing staff after which Akaashi chewed him out for being an idiot. Then he’d kissed his head and said “I’m glad you’re ok.”

Bokuto had been unable to attend practice for a month. He got a little stir crazy, and Akaashi was getting ready to kill him. But then they’d realized that for the first time in years, Bokuto wasn’t absurdly busy, and they could actually spend more time together. They ended up spending the next few weeks curled up in bed binging every season of RuPaul’s Drag Race. Then Bokuto had healed and went right back to the court, better than ever.

~

Halfway to Osaka, Akaashi texted asking for Bokuto’s new address. He knew Bokuto had moved to a much bigger and nicer apartment since they’d been together. Akaashi could not say the same for himself. He remembered with a start that the last time he had taken this bullet train was when he had broken up with Bokuto. Now four very eventful years had passed, and he was going to comfort a good friend in his time of need. That was a wild thought.

It was after 7 when he arrived. “Hey,” he said as Noya opened the door. Akaashi walked to in see Bokuto and Midori in the living room. Bokuto was lying on the couch, and Midori was sitting on the floor eating dinner. Akaashi walked over and gave her a hug and waved at Bokuto. “Hi Koutarou. How you doing?”

Bokuto smiled. His arm was braced in a sling and he was lying on a mountain of pillows with one tucked under his arm, but otherwise looked ok. “Hey. I’m doing ok. Thanks for coming out.”

“Yeah, no problem. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah. But not that bad anymore.”

“What happened anyway?” Akaashi asked as he sat down on the other side of the sofa.

“Atsumu was driving,” Bokuto told him. “I was in the passenger seat, and this other car just flew into the intersection. I was like, half turned around when it happened cause I was trying to grab Hinata’s phone from him. So all the impact went on the back of my shoulder. Honestly I’m lucky my spine stayed intact since it was twisted. Hit my head on the window too.” Bokuto shrugged with his eyebrows since he couldn’t move his shoulders. “But hey, could’ve been worse.”

“Damn…” Akaashi murmured.

“At least it’s only my second concussion! Atsumu’s already had three, so if this was him he wouldn’t be allowed to play anymore.”

“Holy shit.” Akaashi was glad Bokuto had retained his steadfast optimism. “What’s the recovery gonna be like?” He asked before he could descend into an existential crisis over the fragility of human bodies.

“Not bad since I was so active before. Should just be a few weeks of PT before I can play again.”

“That’s great, Kou.”

Bokuto grinned. “Yeah it’s really not a big deal! You guys didn’t have to come all the way out here. Especially you!” he turned his head to Midori and Noya who had joined her on the floor. “I know you’re super busy.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it!” Noya insisted. “Besides we hadn’t been back in ages.” Midori nodded in agreement, and Bokuto smiled warmly at them.

“Cool,” he said. “It’s really good to see you. You too Keiji.”

Akaashi smiled back. “Yeah. I’m glad you’re ok Koutarou.”

~

“DAMN IT!!!” Noya threw his cards across the table. They were playing Egyptian Ratscrew. “How is this fair??? He’s the only not drunk one!”

Bokuto was winning. They’d turned it into a drinking game where if you lost a face card stack you had to take a drink. If you slapped incorrectly it was a whole shot. Bokuto couldn’t mix alcohol with his painkillers, so they decided he’d strip instead.

“Noya, I have one arm!!!” Bokuto shouted. “That’s a way bigger disadvantage!!!”

“Yuu sit down!” Midori laughed. She was terrible and consistently lost all her cards a couple minutes into each round, so she basically just watched and unsuccessfully attempted to slap back in.

“Yeah, take your cards, bitch!” Akaashi shoved the stack towards Noya. He also was not great at this game and was three shots deep. Bokuto grinned at him. So far all he’d lost was his socks.

Game night had been a regular occurrence when they’d all lived together. Akaashi and Midori lost any game that had to do with speed and reflexes. But Noya and Bokuto would get destroyed as soon as a strategy game was brought to the table. One night they’d been playing Seven Wonders, and Noya had literally fallen asleep as Akaashi counted up all his victory points.

~

After several rounds of various card games, they sat on the sofa and talked until it was well into the night. By 1, Midori’s security team was begging her to leave so they could check into their hotel.

“Ok we should head out.” Midori got up and dragged Noya off the sofa where he was starting to fall asleep again. He could never get used to jet lag despite his years of world travel.

Akaashi suddenly realized he had no plans for the night. “Where are you guys staying?” He asked.

“Um…” Midori gave him the name of the most expensive hotel in the city. “Sorry. It’s the only place we can really stay without the paparazzi or people finding us. This was all so last minute my team insisted on us going there. They’re used to handling the security units and stuff.”

Akaashi nodded. Midori’s level of fame was still pretty incomprehensible to him, even after all these years. When they spent their evenings like this, just goofing off like they used to, he always forgot she wasn’t just the girl he’d met when they were all young and broke.

“Sorry,” she said. “You can come with us! It should be fine. I’ll call Paul now. He’s circling outside.” Paul was her head of security. Akaashi remembered him from the Grammys.

“Keiji, you can just stay here,” Bokuto chimed in. “I have an extra room.”

Midori paused with the phone halfway to her ear.

“Uh,” Akaashi paused. Was that weird? To stay with Koutarou? Weirder than whatever he’d have to put up with if he went with Noya and Midori? “Are you sure?” He asked Bokuto.

“Yeah, it’s no problem!”

“Ok. That sounds good. Thanks.”

Midori told Paul never mind, and Akaashi thanked her for the offer. When she and Noya were gone, Akaashi looked back at Bokuto. “Thanks,” he said again.

“No problem. Figured you wouldn’t wanna deal with all that.”

“Yeah…” They walked back to the living room and sat down again.

An awkward silence suddenly came over them. They hadn’t seen each other since that night of truth at the apartment. Bokuto hadn’t contacted Akaashi since. And Akaashi realized that he hadn’t reached out either. Maybe he should have.

“You ok?” Bokuto asked.

Akaashi looked over at him. “Yeah! Sorry. Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Just the last time we saw each other I guess.”

“Oh yeah,” Bokuto smiled. “That was fun.”

“Yeah it was.”

The silence came back, and Akaashi started to sweat. Conversation had come so easily that whole night at the bar and at home. Now he had nothing to say. And Bokuto wasn’t giving anything either. Normally he wouldn’t shut up.

“Is your shoulder bothering you?” Akaashi asked, thinking maybe he was quiet because he was hurting.

“A little. But it’s fine.”

“Ah. Cool.”

“Yeah.”

Akaashi let his eyes run over Bokuto. He was lying back on the pillows and staring up at the ceiling. “Um. I totally blanked when Midori called,” Akaashi said. “I didn’t even bring pajamas or anything. Kinda forgot I’d probably be staying the night out here.”

“Oh that’s fine I have stuff!” Bokuto said. “Yeah um, you can borrow clothes. I don’t think I’ll have anything that fits you though. But uh, I’ve got towels and things so you can shower, and I’ve probably got an extra toothbrush somewhere.”

Bokuto started to get up, but Akaashi stopped him. “Oh you don’t have to look now! It’s ok. Sorry. Thank you.”

Bokuto sat back down. “Ok. Just let me know.”

Akaashi felt a smile creeping onto his face. The Bokuto of four years ago would never had had an extra toothbrush or linens in case of guests. He barely even had things for himself. Akaashi let himself really look around the apartment now. It was a beautiful home. The kitchen was organized, and there were actual ingredients for cooking in the cupboards. The walls had pictures of his friends and family and even a couple pieces of art. The windows had curtains rather than just the old blinds.

Akaashi felt a sudden urge to get up and go look around the bedrooms. He was intently curious how this new adult Koutarou would decorate his personal space. When they had been together, it would have been blank walls, a beanbag for a sofa, and a futon on the floor if Akaashi hadn’t stepped in to help.

“Hey, do you own this place?” He asked.

“No, I still rent,” Bokuto answered.

“Do you think you’ll buy something soon?”

“I don’t know,” Bokuto said. “I was thinking about it, but that’s so… permanent. And my life is kinda unpredictable so…”

Akaashi frowned. Bokuto’s voice sounded far away which was unusual for him. Akaashi wanted to ask what he was talking about, but before he could speak Bokuto looked up and grinned at him.

“Sorry. Never mind.” The weird tone of voice was gone. “Just not the time yet, I guess.”

“Oh. Yeah.” That was weird, Akaashi thought. “I was just asking cause it looks really nice in here. Like you’ve…stepped up your interior design game.”

“Thanks. Um. To be honest it was almost all Mio,” Bokuto admitted. The place had gotten much nicer as soon as she’d moved it. And he still saw her everywhere.

“Ah,” Akaashi murmured. “Makes sense.”

Bokuto didn’t respond.

“How are you by the way? With that?” Akaashi asked slowly.

“Oh,” Bokuto frowned. “Ok. We’re still close.”

Akaashi waited for Bokuto to continue. He didn’t.

“Oh. Well that’s cool.”

“Yeah. Um. Sorry.” Bokuto gave an awkward half smile. “But yeah! I did do some of this though. Like that’s mine,” he pointed at one of the art pieces. “I found it on the street.”

“I see!” Akaashi said. Now that sounded more like the Koutarou he knew, but he didn’t miss the intentional change in subject. Bokuto didn’t seem to want to talk about Mio. “Well I’m impressed.”

Bokuto chuckled. “I have grown up some, Keiji.”

“I know. I’m proud of you.” He smirked at him so Bokuto would know he meant it lightheartedly.

Bokuto grinned back and they settled into a less uncomfortable silence.

“So,”Akaashi asked after a few minutes, “you wanna watch Drag Race?”

Bokuto laughed out loud. “Holy shit! I forgot we used to be so into that.”

“Dude, I’ll literally put it on right now.” Akaashi smiled as he watched the memories come back to Bokuto. “Let it heal your broken bones a second time.”

“Ah what the hell, just put it on.”

“Really?” Akaashi asked. “I was joking. Isn’t it super late for you?”

Bokuto shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Honestly with the hospital and the surgery and everything my sleep schedule is kinda fucked.”

“Ok, Drag Race it is.” Akaashi sat back on the couch by Bokuto’s feet as he turned the tv on.

~

A few episodes in Bokuto asked, “Hey, do you still do this?

“Do what?” Akaashi asked “Drag?”

“Or just any modeling.”

Akaashi shrugged. “A bit. Asahi got me into a show last summer, but I haven’t done one since. Been too busy with work and stuff.”

“Would you want to though?”

“Yeah I guess,” Akaashi said. “I mean, it was super fun when I did it in college. But I wouldn’t want it to be my full time job or anything.”

“Yeah,” Bokuto nodded. “You were awesome at it though.”

“Thanks. I could never really tell what you thought of it.”

“What do you mean? I thought it was awesome!”

“Oh?” Akaashi looked at him. “Even when I did this?” He pointed at the tv screen.

Bokuto looked back at the show. “Yeah. I mean, it was surprising at first, but you were great.”

Six Years Ago

Bokuto remembered the first time Akaashi had been dressed as a girl. He’d come home one day and told Bokuto that he’d been approached to pose for someone’s senior capstone project. It was a photography project was about gender roles and societal expectations, and it involved crossdressing. Akaashi had liked the material and said he wanted to do it, but only if Bokuto was comfortable with it. Of course he had said yes.

A few weeks later Bokuto had the afternoon off from practice on one of the shoot days, so he decided to head to the student’s school to say hello. Akaashi had texted him directions, and when he’d walked into the building he saw a tall thin woman with her back to him. Her weight was balanced on one leg and the pose showed off the curve of her waist. She had long blonde hair with dark roots and was wearing a white, skin-tight slip dress that barely covered her hips. It was attached by garters to sheer white, thigh high socks. On her feet were white stilettos with a strap around the ankle.

Bokuto blinked for a moment, unsure where to go next. Then he noticed a familiar beauty mark on the back of her arm, and his eyes bulged. “Keiji???”

The woman turned around. For a moment she stared at Bokuto with a blank smolder, painted lips slightly parted. Her thin face was contoured to emphasize already prominent cheek bones, and her eyes were colored with light, feminine shadow and long fake lashes, bringing out brilliant blue irises. A few shorter pieces of blonde hair fell down to frame her face. She was beautiful.

Bokuto could never quite describe the feelings he had in that moment. He was shocked and amazed and a little scared and uncomfortable and vaguely turned on all at once. Then her face softened into a familiar, nervous smile. “Hey. I was just texting you.”

Bokuto had to snap his jaw shut before he was able to speak. It was unnerving to hear his boyfriend’s voice coming out of that body. “Oh my god…” he murmured as he walked closer.

He could tell it was Keiji now. The way he moved was familiar, and even under all the makeup his expressions were the same. “Keiji this is incredible…” He stopped short of putting his hands on his waist. “Wait, can I touch you?”

“Yeah sure if your hands are clean.”

Bokuto put his hands on Akaashi’s waist and dragged them up his body. He looked up at his face and his breath caught. Akaashi was taller than him in the heels, and it was bizarre to look up at him at all, even more so when he barely looked like himself. “Holy shit. I’m literally speechless.”

Akaashi laughed. “Yeah it’s a lot.”

Bokuto saw a hint of a blush showing through under the foundation. His smile was the same even if his eyebrows were in a different place. Bokuto’s heart melted a bit. Akaashi stepped back and held his arms out to the sides so Bokuto could see the whole look up close. He was also wearing white lace gloves that ended just past his elbow on his thin upper arms. The dress had a v-neck, and Bokuto couldn’t help but stare.

“You…you have boobs.”

“Oh my god,” Akaashi laughed. “Of course you’d say that.” He stepped closer and gently pulled the neckline of the dress aside. “It’s just a padded bra. And tape. And makeup.” They’d kept him fairly flat. Anything bigger would have looked wrong on his frame.

“That’s wild.” Bokuto reached a finger out and dragged it across the contoured cleavage until it got lost in the dress.

Akaashi giggled. “Kouta stop.”

“Sorry. I just…wow.”

“Is it ok?”

“Yeah! Yeah I’m just… fuck.” Bokuto put his hands on Akaashi’s hips. “How’d they give you curves and stuff?”

“A corset. And some padding in the dress. Honestly they kept my figure pretty natural. It’s all just an illusion.”

“I’ll say.”

“Check this out.” Akaashi flipped up the hem of the dress to reveal white lace panties underneath.

“Oh my god,” Bokuto laughed. “Wait, where’s your—”

“You don’t need to know that.”

Bokuto snorted. He put his hands back on him and closed his eyes. When he touched him, he felt like Akaashi. But when he looked at him, his brain told him it was a woman, so it must feel different. “God gender is a wild construct.”

Akaashi smiled. “Yeah, that’s kinda the point.”

Bokuto stepped back to look again. It’s Keiji it’s Keiji, he kept telling himself. But he still felt a little like he had whiplash. “Where is everyone?”

“Downstairs. We’re working in the basement. You said you were coming by, so I just came up to say hi.”

“Oh cool.”

“Yeah. I should probably head back down. It was nice to see you.” Akaashi trotted up to him and grabbed his hands. “Sorry. I’d kiss you, but I’d have to do the lipstick again.”

Bokuto brought his hands up to run fingers through the long hair. “Wow.” He put his other hand back on Akaashi’s hip. “You look really beautiful, Keiji.”

Akaashi smiled and looked down, his false eyelashes fluttering. “Thanks.”

Bokuto’s hands started running up and down Akaashi’s body feeling every line and curve. He wanted to touch him until it felt familiar again, even with his eyes open.

“Kou, you gotta stop,” Akaashi grabbed Bokuto’s hand and pulled it away. “I, like, literally can’t get a boner in this thing so…”

Bokuto laughed and stepped back. “Sorry. Actually can I come with you? I wanna see.”

Akaashi’s eyes widened. Bokuto had never been to one of his photoshoots before. “Really?”

Bokuto nodded.

Akaashi twirled a long finger through the blonde locks as if they really were his own. “Ok, well, yeah sure I can ask. Let’s go.”

He pulled Bokuto by the hand as they went down the stairs. Bokuto couldn’t believe he was walking so easily in those shoes. As Akaashi walked, the dress moved around, and Bokuto could see the lace panties with every step. It really was basically a shirt.

The student said it was fine for Bokuto to watch, so he sat in the back and stared in awe as Akaashi posed for the photos. They were purposefully feminine and, in Bokuto’s opinion, a little overly sexual. A fan blew wind in Akaashi’s hair, and he posed on the ground spreading his legs and arching his back and standing in seductive positions, and he was no longer Keiji. He’d fully transformed into the role he was playing, and he was sexy and beautiful and cold, and Bokuto was mesmerized and a little terrified at the same time.

For the first time he started to wonder if there were sides of himself that Akaashi didn’t show him. How many photos had he posed for like this that Bokuto had no idea about? Did he want to be like this at home? If so, why wasn’t he? Bokuto had seen the end result of the photoshoots he’d done, but he’d always chalked up the remarkable appearance to the skill of the photographers or editors. But watching now, he saw that it really was Keiji, and Bokuto wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

He only stayed for a little while. Just long enough to see his boyfriend in a whole new light. When Akaashi was sent copies of the photos a few weeks later, Bokuto saw there had been many outfit changes. More tight dresses and leotards and gowns. They’d looked through them together. Akaashi had been a little embarrassed. Even he had a hard time believing the beautiful woman in the pictures was him, but Bokuto reassured him. “Oh I was there. That’s definitely you. Believe it or not.”

Akaashi did drag a few more times before he graduated. A couple photoshoots and one runway show where he’d been in full Y2K fashion and strutted to Britney in low rise jeans as he walked under the lights.

Bokuto got used to it eventually, and even started to find it pretty hot, but for some reason it always made him wonder if Akaashi wanted more. It made Bokuto know that he could be more if he wanted to. And it had scared him a little.

Present

“Ok to be honest,” Bokuto said, “it was kinda weird at first. Not cause of the drag aspect or anything. It was how good you looked, and how easily it came to you.”

“Oh.” Akaashi crossed his arms. “Well yeah, I liked it. I’m already not very masculine looking, so it wasn’t that hard for the makeup and wardrobe people.”

Bokuto didn’t say anything.

“I could kinda tell,” Akaashi said. “That you felt sorta weird about it.”

“I’m sorry. Honestly I was just insecure. Like you were so good out there that it made me worried you’d grow out of me or move on to bigger things that suited you better. I always kinda worried that, but the drag just took it to a whole other level.”

“Huh,” Akaashi frowned as he thought about that. “That’s kinda how I felt when I used to watch your games.”

“Really??”

“Yeah. You were the best person on the court everyday, and fucking everyone loved you. And I’d be there in the stands like ‘why is he with me? haha.’” Akaashi tacked a laugh on at the end to avoid sounding too serious. “Honestly, I think one of the reasons I liked modeling so much was because it was my own thing. And so different than things you could do. Living with you and Noya… like that was a lot of big masculine energy, you know?”

Bokuto blinked. “Wow.”

“What is it?”

“It’s just that… that kinda was a fear of mine. I mean, I loved that you had modeling and everything. And I loved going to your runway shows, I really did. But on some level it did make me worry that maybe you weren’t happy. Like you needed to become another person in order to escape our life or something.”

“Oh wow,” Akaashi said. “I had no idea.”

Bokuto shrugged and leaned back again. “It’s ok.”

“It wasn’t that I was unhappy,” Akaashi said softly. “I just felt like I faded into the background a lot. So I wanted to feel good sometimes. And feel good while being me.”

Bokuto smiled at him. “We’re having this conversation like seven years too late aren’t we?”

Akaashi laughed under his breath. “Yeah. I guess so. Sorry.”

“No, it’s still good to know. It makes some things make sense.”

“Yeah. For me too. I’m sorry if I made you feel insecure or anything.”

“Thanks. But don’t worry about it. We both… you know.”

“Yeah.”

They went back to watching the show. Akaashi noticed Bokuto seemed to be gazing off again. He clearly had a lot on his mind, and it wasn’t like Bokuto to not share his thoughts.

“Hey,” Akaashi said. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Hm?” Bokuto looked back at him, and his strange expression was quickly replaced by a smile. “Yeah, I know. Thanks Keiji.”

Akaashi smiled back, at a loss for what to say next. They ended up watching a few more episodes together. Then Bokuto gave Akaashi a t-shirt and a pair of sweats to sleep in. He found a spare toothbrush in the bathroom vanity and walked Akaashi to the second bedroom.

“Sorry,” he said as he turned on the light. “We don’t actually have a bed in here right now, but I can grab you a futon.” Bokuto started to walk towards the closet.

“Oh don’t worry I got it!” Akaashi trotted forward to help so Bokuto wouldn’t have to lift a futon on his injured shoulder.

As he pulled the futon from the closet, a small yellow baby blanket fell from the top shelf. It looked handmade, but unused. Akaashi bent to pick it up, but Bokuto got there first. He gently picked up the blanket from the floor, and for a brief moment he stared at it. Then he carefully brushed it off, neatly folded it, and placed it back in the corner of the closet.

“Sorry,” he said under his breath. “Well, let me know if you need anything. Night, Keiji.”

“Night,” Akaashi said with a frown.

Bokuto didn’t meet his eyes as he walked out of the room.

Chapter Text

Noya and Midori came back the next day and convinced Akaashi not to go home yet. Midori cooked a late lunch for everyone — they’d all slept well past noon — and they ate around the kotatsu in the living room.

They were playing games again when Bokuto’s phone started ringing. He checked it, and the smile fell from his face.

“Sorry guys. I gotta take this,” he said and stood up to take the call. He brought the phone to his ear and said softly, “Hey Mio. Yeah. Yeah I’m ok. Thanks.”

Akaashi watched as Bokuto went into the next room and closed the door behind him. He supposed the breakup must have been amicable if she was calling to check in. Bokuto came back a few minutes later and sat down on the couch with a sigh.

“Do you guys still keep in touch” Akaashi asked.

Bokuto nodded. “Um. Yeah. Yeah we do. We’re still friends.”

“That’s nice, Kou,” Midori murmured.

Bokuto shrugged his right shoulder up as much as he could. He wasn’t looking at them. “Yeah. I mean, yeah…” he trailed off.

A heavy silence settled over the room. Akaashi frowned and looked around. Normally this group couldn’t stay quiet for more than ten seconds. His intuition kicked in, and he suddenly had the distinct feeling that there was some knowledge he wasn’t privy to.

Bokuto must have sensed it too because he took a deep breath and said, “Listen Keiji… about me and Mio… um.” Bokuto trailed off.

“What is it?” Akaashi asked, and he glanced at Noya and Midori who were both looking at Bokuto and sitting perfectly still.

Bokuto sighed and made a face Akaashi hadn’t seen on him before. It was a grimace and a smile and a frown at the same time, and his eyes got a far away look to them.

“Kou?”

Bokuto opened his mouth and then closed it.

“Um,” Akaashi was starting to get nervous. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, it isn’t that. I’m just trying to figure out how to put it.” Bokuto frowned again. “I mean, if you wanna know what happened.”

“Only if you wanna tell me.”

Bokuto sighed. “Ok well, um,” he used his good hand to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. “Last summer. We found out she was pregnant.”

Akaashi’s eyes widened. “Like by someone else?”

Bokuto rolled his eyes. “No, Keiji! By me obviously. God!” But really he was grateful for the tension diffuser. It was still extremely difficult for him to talk about this. “But yeah. She was pregnant. That was, um, end of August. I was still traveling. It was a shock at first, but after talking about it we actually decided to go for it. Like really go for it. The whole baby and parenting and everything.” He paused. He didn’t want to meet his friends’ eyes, especially Akaashi’s. Those few weeks after they found out had been some of the most exciting of his life. He and Mio had gotten more excited the more they talked about it. Dreams he didn’t know he had started taking shape before his eyes. It felt perfect.

Telling their friends and families had been amazing and terrifying. Atsumu and Hinata were so excited to be uncles, they couldn’t stop talking about it. Bokuto’s sisters and parents had been shocked, but overjoyed as well once they knew Koutarou and Mio wanted this. Mio’s mother had instantly started working on a baby blanket. The little yellow one that had fallen out of the closet the night before.

Bokuto glanced up at Akaashi. He didn’t say anything in response, just had a serious, neutral look on his handsome face.

“Yeah.” Bokuto shifted his body on the couch. “Yeah so we were planning for that. But well… it didn’t happen. Mio, um, she ended up losing her. At 14 weeks and three days. Oh yeah. It was a girl.” Bokuto chewed the inside his of cheek. It was dead silent in the room. “So that was hard. Really hard.”

Bokuto rubbed his mouth with his hand as he looked back on it. It had been a really horrible time. Even now he could feel his heart starting to clench up. He and Mio had spent weeks crying. Sometimes in each other’s arms and sometimes on opposite ends of their apartment. Bokuto had been there while Mio lay for hours on the bathroom floor, numb from pain, both physical and emotional.

It took several days before they could tell anyone what happened. As if if they kept it a secret then maybe it wouldn’t be real. But the denial couldn’t last, and soon Bokuto had to get on the phone and tell his parents they wouldn’t be getting a new granddaughter yet after all.

Mio’s parents came to Osaka as soon as they could and stayed for two weeks. Mio was barely able to get out of bed, and often she spent the day crying in her mother’s arms. And Bokuto likewise spent most of his time crying and staring off into space, lost in his mind.

Their friends helped organize a meal train, so dinners were regularly brought to their apartment, but neither of them could find the strength to eat. Bokuto could barely remember what happened. He had been trapped in a heartbroken haze that he thought would never end.

It was when Mio’s parents went back home that they realized what was happening. It was just the two of them in the apartment, and that in itself was wrong. Bokuto realized he didn’t know how to comfort Mio the way she needed. And Mio realized she didn’t look at him the same way. They both relied so strongly on the other to be positive, that when they were both broken, neither could move.

There was endless love between them. Bokuto loved Mio with his whole heart, and she loved him the same way, but when they held each other, it didn’t feel right. They weren’t built to go through this yet. They hadn’t been through enough together. When two people who have always been stars suddenly go dark, everything is lost.

They both felt it, but for weeks they didn’t say anything. There was too much heartbreak already to add on anymore. But Bokuto had lain awake at night, racked with fear and sobs. He’d lost his child, and now his marriage was falling apart with it. He looked at Mio’s exhausted form across the bed and felt his heart shatter. He loved her. He probably could have loved her forever. If only they’d had more time.

That was the hardest part. They hadn’t even known each other two years. And their time together had been so great. How were they supposed to handle a devastation like this? Bokuto kept thinking that maybe if they had more time, if this had happened to them in a year or maybe two, that they would have been strong enough to face it. But they weren’t that lucky.

They could have been soulmates. But that doesn’t matter to time or to fate.

In late November they had looked at each other across the dining room table, and they had both known.

Mio said, “Koutarou, I love you so much.”

And Bokuto said, “I love you too.”

“But…”

“I know.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“I don’t know what happened.”

“Neither do I.”

“What do we do now?”

Bokuto held her as they both cried. “We just have to face it,” he had whispered. “There’s no other choice.”

“I will always love you,” Mio said into his chest.

Bokuto wept. “I’ll always love you too.”

They talked about what to do, what they were both feeling, and decided it was time to let go. Neither would be able to recover if they stayed together like this. Bokuto needed his friends, and Mio needed hers. They loved each other, and they wanted more than anything to be what the other needed, but in this state, they could only hurt each other more.

A week later, Mio packed a bag and moved in with her sister. A few days after that, Bokuto got into the accident. And now he was sitting in their home — because it would always feel like their home — with his closest friends in the world, reliving the worst days of his entire life.

He took a deep breath and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Um. In the aftermath… We just couldn’t get through it. I don’t know how to explain it. Honestly, I’m still processing. But it kinda just became clear that we weren’t what each other needed. At least right now. We didn’t fight or anything. We actually got really close. Cause how can you not during that…?” He took another pause to swallow. “I don’t know. Somehow we came out of it knowing that we needed different things. That the other wasn’t gonna give us. Like a wake up call but… in the worst possible way. So we decided to end it,” he said with a big sigh. “But yeah, we still talk.” As his voice trailed off he finally looked up.

Noya and Midori were looking at the ground with solemn sadness on their faces. Bokuto could see Midori was trying not to cry, and Noya was rubbing a hand up and down her arm. He stared at that rather than their eyes.

They had known already. Bokuto had called Noya in nervous excitement at the beginning of September. His friend had screamed in shock, and Bokuto had laughed, holding the phone at arms length. Noya had texted Midori who FaceTimed them both seconds later from the closet of her recording studio. She’d been shocked too, but so happy for him. And Bokuto had turned red and covered his face and confessed he was really looking forward to it. Six weeks later he called her again and sobbed over the phone.

Noya and Midori had offered to come visit him right away, but he hadn’t been ready. When he’d gotten in the accident, Midori had asked again if he needed them there, and he’d said yes. She’d asked, then, if he wanted Akaashi to come.

He and Mio had only told their closest friends and families about the baby. Normally Bokuto could never keep secrets, but he’d been too nervous and excited to find the words for this one. It had felt too important. Too precious. That also meant that telling people their baby was no longer with them had been one of the hardest parts.

Bokuto hadn’t decided yet if any of this was something he wanted Akaashi to know about. They were friends again, but he was still pretty far from Bokuto’s inner circle. But Akaashi was Akaashi. They’d once been so close it had felt strange for him not to know. So he’d agreed. And as he saw him now, his familiar figure sitting on the sofa where Bokuto had spent so many nights weeping, he was grateful he was there.

“I…” Akaashi finally spoke. He was staring at the floor with a fist pressed against his lips. His face was blank but serious. He looked deep in thought. “I’m sorry Kou. That’s really awful.”

Bokuto knew how hard he must be trying to think of something to say. It usually took a long time for Akaashi to process his thoughts. “Thanks,” Bokuto said. “Sorry. It’s really… uncomfortable… to talk about.”

“No. No, I’m sorry.” Akaashi finally looked up. “Thank you for telling me. How… how are you doing now?”

“I’m ok,” Bokuto sighed. “I mean, relatively. It’s still…it’s still pretty devastating. And I think about it a lot. But…well…I don’t think it’s something you ever really get over but…it’s getting easier…to live with. I guess.”

“And Mio?”

Bokuto shook his head. “She really, really wanted the baby. We both did. But I think for her it was a little…more intense. Which makes sense. She was the one carrying her and all. And I think it made her realize how badly she wanted that. She’s surviving.” Everyone just nodded. They’d only met Mio a few times. Bokuto wished it could have been more. He wanted them to know how wonderful she was. He’d really loved her. He still did. And he knew she wouldn’t be leaving his life anytime soon, even if they weren’t together anymore. “Sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“No, Kou it’s fine,” Akaashi insisted. “Don’t even worry about that. Thank you for telling me now.”

Bokuto nodded his thanks.

The room settled back into silence as everyone tried to process. It was hard for Bokuto to express just how devastated he was. Normally his feelings were written all over his face, but with this it was different. How could he show himself to others when he could barely accept what happened himself? The only person he really wanted to talk to was Mio, but he couldn’t do that either.

He remembered so clearly waking up one morning to Mio calling for him from the bathroom.

“Kou, something’s wrong!” she had shouted.

He’d gotten up and run to check on her. He’d held her in a panic as they both stared at the blood on the floor. He remembered going to the emergency room.

“There’s no heartbeat. I’m so sorry.”

Those words refused to settle in. Bokuto remembered disagreeing. His first words were, “how…how do we get it back?”

It wasn’t until he and Mio locked eyes that he understood what that meant. His gaze drifted between his wife and the image on the screen. Their baby was there. He could see the outline of her head and her little curled up limbs. How could there be no heartbeat?

Then Mio had sobbed. And Bokuto collapsed to the ground next to her. After that was a blur. He didn’t remember going home. He didn’t remember those first few hours. He remembered the next morning. The phone call asking why he wasn’t at practice. Mio crying in their bed. The desperate need to run away to… somewhere. To deny this reality. To hide alone. The horror upon realizing that Mio’s broken form scared him. What was he supposed to do? Why couldn’t he go to her and hold her and cry with her?

They processed their grief alone. Sometimes they tried as hard as they could to grieve together, but neither knew how. They didn’t know each other like that yet. Bokuto realized then how fast everything between them had really been. It wasn’t that they didn’t love each other enough. They simply weren’t ready.

If everything had worked out. If their baby had been born. If they’d had more time before being faced with this level of grief, Bokuto believed they might have been just fine. They would have learned to depend on each other and learned to comfort each other. But life had its own plans.

Bokuto looked up from his lap at his circle of friends. Midori was crying in silence. Noya held her gently. Bokuto knew that if this had happened to them, they would have survived. They knew each other so well and had loved each other for so long. They were unshakable.

In this mind there were only two perfect couples in the world. His parents, and Noya and Midori. It wasn’t until he was grown that he realized how truly rare that was, and his heart ached with how badly he wanted that for himself. Twice now in his life he’d thought he had it, and both times he’d been wrong.

His other what-if sat quietly on the other side of the sofa. Akaashi’s hands were tightly folded together, his perfect face frowning. Bokuto watched him, and his heart calmed a little. He felt nothing but friendship and appreciation for Akaashi now. Akaashi’s presence gave him hope that maybe things would be ok. Maybe the universe had given him that heartbreak so he’d be able to handle this new one that loomed even taller and darker. Maybe someday that could be him and Mio too. Maybe some day he would be able to look back on this chapter of his life without shattering into pieces.

“Koutarou,” Akaashi spoke again and lifted his gaze. And blue eyes met gold. “I…I can’t fathom what you’re going through, but… I’m sorry. You are…you’re…you don’t… I’m sorry.”

Bokuto’s gaze softened. No matter what they had been through — ever since they’d met when they were so young — there had always been an understanding between the two of them. They could read the other’s thoughts with only a glance. Bokuto could feel Akaashi’s immense, powerful, and understated empathy in his hesitant words radiating between their hearts. Bokuto’s eyes began to well up.

“Thank you, Keiji,” he whispered.

Chapter Text

The rest of the night passed quietly and somberly. Midori and Noya went back to their hotel around midnight. Their flight was in a few hours, and they had to go pack.

It was a strange parting. Akaashi sat awkwardly by as Midori hugged Bokuto for a long time. Noya walked over to say goodbye to Akaashi.

“You gonna stay?” He asked.

Akaashi nodded. “Yeah. I’ll stay. Maybe tomorrow too. If he wants.”

“That’s good.” Noya closed the gap between them and hugged Akaashi tight. Akaashi wrapped his arms around him too. He and Noya didn’t hug much, but they both wanted the comfort now.

“Take care, Keiji,” Noya said as he let him go.

“You too. Have a safe flight. Text when you’re back.”

Noya nodded, and he walked over to hug Bokuto goodbye. Midori trotted towards Akaashi and put her arms around him. “Bye Keiji. Thank you for coming.”

“You too,” he said as he rested his chin on her head. “I miss you. Thanks for calling me.”

“I miss you too. We’ll try and visit more.”

Akaashi nodded and let her go. He and Bokuto murmured a final goodbye as their friends walked down the stairs to the car that would pick them up.

Akaashi and Bokuto walked wordlessly back to the living room where Bokuto got back onto his pillows and Akaashi sat stiffly in his chair. He was speechless. He knew he probably should have offered more words, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. There was so much information to process and his mind was reeling.

Koutarou was going to be a dad. That was unimaginable. Akaashi tried to picture him with a little girl. Dancing around the house, playing dress up, braiding hair. Piggy back rides and dollhouses. Suddenly he clapped a hand over his mouth and gasped. He was crying.

“Keiji?” Bokuto frowned at him.

“I’m so sorry,” Akaashi whispered. “I don’t know what happened.” He took his glasses off and wiped his eyes, but they were quickly filled by more tears. “I just…I started imagining you as a dad and I…” He pressed his hands harder to his mouth. “Sorry. Shit I can’t stop. Oh my god.”

“Keiji it’s ok…”

Akaashi sniffed and blinked up at the ceiling as he got himself back under control. The images had come so easily. It wasn’t actually unimaginable at all. “Oh Kou, I’m sorry. This is so rude of me right now.”

“It’s ok. I’m ok.”

Akaashi wiped his eyes one more time and slowed his breathing. “Ok. I’m ok. Sorry.” He looked up and saw Bokuto blinking at him sadly. Akaashi gazed back at him.  “I… I’m sorry,” he started. “I never know what to say. You know this.”

Bokuto exhaled in what might have been a laugh. “You were always better than you thought.”

“Thanks Kou. I appreciate that.”

Bokuto just nodded.

“Do you think…” Akaashi started. “Do you think you’ll still want kids someday?” He paused and brought a hand to his mouth. “Sorry. Totally ok if you don’t wanna answer that. I’m so sorry. I probably shouldn’t have asked.”

Bokuto shook his head. “No, it’s fine. And honestly I don’t know. Growing up I always assumed I would. But then, when we were together, obviously I thought no. Then I didn’t think about it at all for a while. Now it’s all I think about. But I really don’t know. I wanna say yes, but, after everything… it’s hard.”

Akaashi nodded.

“Then again who knows,” Bokuto stretched his good arm out and half laughed, probably just to dissolve how serious the air felt. “Maybe I’m just saying that so I never have to go through this again.”

Akaashi tried and failed to smile back at him. “I’ve never thought about it for me. Obviously. I mean what’s the point? But I don’t know. Even if I could…I can’t really imagine that.”

Bokuto eyed him contemplatively. “I don’t know. I could kinda see it.”

“The fact that you have to add ‘kinda’ shows that you really can’t.”

Bokuto smirked. “Sorry. But really, you never thought maybe? Not even with Kousuke?”

Akaashi let out a long sigh. “I don’t think Kousuke and I would have made great parents. I’d be too scared to talk to them, and he’d have let them get away with anything.”

Bokuto smiled. “You guys could have done it I bet. If you wanted to.”

Akaashi smiled back. It’d been over a year, but talking about Kousuke still ached a bit. “Thinking about the future is weird,” he sighed. “I’m 26. I feel like I should be an adult at this point. But I still feel like I’m just getting started. But also I feel like I’m running out of time.”

“I’m 27,” Bokuto replied. “I definitely should be an adult, but I never thought about the future at all. Then suddenly I thought I was having a baby. Then I lost the baby. Then I got into an accident that could have ended my whole career if I hadn’t been so lucky. So now I’m just like… fuck. I really should think more.”

“Yeah, you’ve really had…a rough couple of months.”

Bokuto laughed, and Akaashi frowned. “Keiji, you are so bad at comforting people!”

“Earlier you said I was better than I thought!”

“I know. I lied. But I love you.” Bokuto smiled at him.

Akaashi sighed, but he smiled back. “I’m really trying. And I do feel all the things, I just have trouble saying it.”

“I know, I know. I’m not mad. It’s just you. And I know you, so I know what you’re trying to say. It comes through.”

“Thanks Kou.”

“So the future!” Bokuto wiggled an eyebrow. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” Akaashi laughed.

“Come on,” Bokuto leaned his head back against the sofa and smiled at him. “I’m injured and devastated. Humor me.”

Akaashi glared at him. “It’s fucked up you’re abusing that for your own purposes.”

“I know. But it’s you, so I know I can.”

Akaashi snorted. “Fine. Future. Let’s start with job. Guess I never told you, but I got moved to the literature department. Well kind of. I’m double agenting now. Split between manga and lit.”

“Keiji that’s awesome!”

“Thanks. Yeah, an editing position opened up cause some guy had a stroke, and I weaseled my way in. So thank you Hiro-san and the McDonalds down the street.”

Bokuto snorted. “You’re such a fucking dick.”

“I know, it keeps me up at night. But yeah I went to the head supervisor and said I wanted the job. He talked to my manager and they worked out a deal. I had to hire two news editors to help Tenma out, but I got it!”

“I’m trying to imagine you conducting an interview. It’s funny.”

“Oh my god Kou,” Akaashi shook his head. “It was exhausting. Do you have any idea how many stupid people are out there? I wanted to kill myself.”

Bokuto laughed. “Why are you like this??”

“I don’t know. But I found some good ones, and I’m supervising them half time and editing novels the other half. I no longer sleep. But who needs that?” He shrugged.

“Keiji the supervisor,” Bokuto mused. “Do they call you Akaashi-san? Do you love it?”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “Yes they do. And my feelings on it are neutral.”

“For real though, I bet you’re good at it. You were a great captain in high school. We’d have been screwed without you. Especially me.”

“Oh I remember.”

“Actually though!” Bokuto sat up. “Like you always talk about how you’re insecure and bad with people and stuff. But you fucking owned all of us. Even though you were younger. Like we’d have done or trusted anything you said.”

Akaashi pondered that. It was true. He had been a pretty good captain. “Oh god…” he sat up too. “Did I peak in high school??”

Bokuto cackled. “You didn’t. I promise.” He paused for a moment and reconsidered. “Well…?”

“What??” Akaashi gasped.

“I’m kidding. Kind of. I mean you were definitely nicer back then. And you wore normal clothing.”

“So you’re saying I’m a bitter old queen in a 26 year old body? Fuck you too, bitch.”

Bokuto grinned. “I take it back. This you is better.”

Akaashi shook his head. “Ok, you go now. Let’s hear your big plans.”

What followed was what happens when an overthinking insomniac stays up all night with a mid quarter-life-crisis, floundering performer on too many painkillers. And when those two people know each other very well.

Over the next six hours, Akaashi and Bokuto told stories and shared ideas and talked about their hopes and dreams and plans and fears. Soon the conversation turned into a game of truth or dare without any dares, and they went back and forth asking each other questions.

“Ok,” Akaashi said when it was his turn. “What is your actual body count?”

“Fuck,” Bokuto groaned. “You don’t wanna know that.”

“I actually really do.”

“I don’t know the exact number,” Bokuto admitted.

“Give an estimate.”

Bokuto squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his hand over the back of his head. “I’m like…90% sure it’s less than… 200.”

“200???” Akaashi gasped.

“Don’t do that!” Bokuto complained. “You asked!”

“Holy shit.”

“What were you expecting??”

“I don’t know! Like 70 maybe!”

“I had a rough couple of years.”

“Sounds like you had an amazing couple of years,” Akaashi muttered.

“Ok, what’s yours then?” Bokuto asked harshly.

“11. Which I thought was kinda high until 30 seconds ago.”

“Damn it.” Bokuto put his face in the pillows.

“How’d you even have time for that? Like aren’t you constantly busy?”

“I don’t know!”

“Ok, so between me and Mio there was like two and a half years. So that’s 80 people a year which is like 7ish a month…” Akaashi did some quick maths in his head. “Ok, that’s actually less frequent than I thought it would be.”

“God, Keiji, I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

“Then take it as a neutral statement.”

“It was slowing down a lot before I met Mio,” Bokuto said. “I got kinda disillusioned with it.”

“Why?”

“It started to get weird. Just so meaningless. And…I don’t know. The more famous I got, the more I got suspicious of people. Like I didn’t know what they wanted from me. Had a couple try and get me to introduce them to Midori or stuff like that. It just got to be too much.”

“Oh. That sucks.”

“Yeah. It’s ok though. Those days are definitely over for me.”

~

The questions continued.

“What’s your biggest fear?”

“That the conservatives are right and we’re all going to hell. Favorite Kardashian?”

“Khloe. Favorite book?”

“The Pāli Buddhist Canon.”

“Fuck off, what’s it actually?”

“Pride and Prejudice. Worst guilty pleasure tv show?”

“Paw Patrol.”

“Are you serious?”

“Shut up, my nephew likes it and it actually kinda fucks. What’s something you regret?”

“The way I broke up with you.”

Bokuto raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

Akaashi sighed and uncomfortably crossed his arms. “I don’t know. I know it sucked. I just wanted to do it quickly and get out of there. But that was wrong. And I’m sorry.” He looked over at Bokuto as he apologized.

“I appreciate that Keiji.”

Akaashi nodded. “Ok what about you, what’s something you regret?”

“Well, as long as we’re on the topic,” Bokuto sighed, “not letting you go. I should have done it sooner.”

“What do you mean?”

“Keiji, I was still in love with you for like two years after we broke up,” Bokuto admitted. “I only really gave up on you because Noya told me you were gonna move to Italy.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” Akaashi frowned. And he meant it.

“No, I mean it’s fine now. I got over it, and I was able to fall in love with Mio, and now you and I are great! But I think I could have let you go sooner if I’d really wanted to. I was just scared.”

Akaashi sighed. “I get it. I was scared too. Even after Kousuke and I started dating, I wondered sometimes. About us. I always felt really bad.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well yeah cause I didn’t tell you. Or anyone really.”

“Did you tell him?”

“I guess so. We talked about you. I think it was that fight you and I had that really ended it. After that…”

“I know. It’s ok.”

“We’re great now.” Akaashi smiled weakly.

Bokuto laughed. “Yeah we are.”

“What do you think is your biggest weakness?”

“Cocaine.”

“Keiji, we can’t play this game if you aren’t gonna take it seriously.”

“Sorry. Probably being scared of people. And overthinking. What’s yours?”

“I’m really bad with conflict.”

“That’s true.”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry.”

Bokuto chuckled and decided to pull out the question Mio had asked on their first date. “If someone had to summon you by seance, what items would they need?”

Akaashi grinned. “Shit, that’s a good one.”

“I know,” Bokuto smiled.

Akaashi took a deep breath and started counting items on his fingers. “Well, probably Jane Austen’s collective works.”

“Nerd.”

“Shut it. A copy of To Pimp a Butterfly. I guess volume one of Haikyuu. A bottle of Aventus cologne. That Dior outfit with the shorts that Alton Mason wore in 2019 for GQ. CLIO kill lash mascara.”

“God you’re vain.”

“Dude let me finish!”

“Sorry.”

“And the ticket stubs from the first time we saw Midori in concert.”

Bokuto smiled. “Acceptable answers. That’s Mio’s favorite question to ask people.”

Akaashi smiled back. “Like I said it’s a good one. What’s your answer?”

“A mikasa volleyball, a plate of really good yakiniku, a picture of my niece and nephew, some sand from Lanikai beach in Oahu, Dragonball Z, and “Man in the Box” by Alice in Chains is playing.”

Akaashi grinned. “Nice.”

Bokuto started to ask another question, but Akaashi cut him off. “Wait, I’ve just been repeating your questions! It’s still my turn.”

“Fine,” Bokuto chuckled.

Akaashi pondered for a few moments. “Ok I’ve got one,” he said.

“Shoot.”

“What is sex with girls like?”

Bokuto gave him a ‘what the actual fuck’ type look. “What?” he laughed.

“I’m curious!”

“You’re curious?”

“Shut up. From an intellectual standpoint yes.”

“God you’re weird.”

“Just answer the question, Koutarou.”

“I don’t know!” Bokuto sputtered. “It’s different!”

“Different how?”

“I…I don’t know how to describe it! It’s just different.”

“Try an adjective.”

“It’s wetter.”

“Technically a comparative, but I’ll take it. Wetter?” Akaashi looked at him to continue.

“Yeah!” Bokuto was bright red. “It’s wetter. Ok, like, the first time I did it with a girl I was like ‘where’s the lube’ and she was like ‘for what?’”

“Damn Kou. That’s embarrassing.”

“Thank you, it was.”

“What else?”

“Fuck, I don’t know… it’s less work to like…get it in there.”

“Makes sense. So once you’re in there, does it feel different too?”

“Keiji, why the fuck are we talking about this?” Bokuto laughed.

“I don’t know. Always wondered.”

“Well you’re welcome to go try it yourself.”

“Ugh,” Akaashi groaned, and Bokuto grinned.

“You’d be so lost.”

“I really would.”

“I’m picturing you now staring at a vagina like ‘aah what is that??’”

Akaashi snorted. “Yeah, I am so gay man. I can’t even describe it.”

“I’m aware, Keiji, I was gay with you for five years.”

“Yeah super gay. Oh by the way, did you ever bottom again?”

“Oh my god.” Bokuto put his face in the sofa. “Why do our conversations always get so weird?”

“Who else would I talk to about this?”

“Who else would you talk to about whether or not I bottom??”

“Yeah!” Akaashi said, completely shameless. He liked making Bokuto uncomfortable. Not many people could do it, so it gave him a small sense of satisfaction.

“Ok well if you must know,” Bokuto rolled his head to face Akaashi. “Not since you.”

“Really? Interesting.”

“I’m not against it or anything. It just never happened. The guys I hooked up with just assumed I’m…you know. Based on…” He gestured to his very much ‘not giving bottom’ physic.

“Makes sense. Even we only tried it a few times.”

“Yeah,” Bokuto said with a one armed shrug as he looked at Akaashi. “Pretty good though,” he joked.

“Yeah not bad,” Akaashi agreed.

Bokuto laughed before asking. “What about you?”

“Yeah I do both. Kousuke and I were both verse. And now it’s just…whatever the situation calls for. And at what spice level I ordered my curry the night before.”

“Keiji…” Bokuto tried to facepalm, but Akaashi could see him laughing.

Akaashi laughed back. “Sorry. Couldn’t help it.”

“No it’s good!” Bokuto grinned. “You’re being goofy Keiji, and you’re not even drunk! It’s awesome.”

“So you’re saying you want me to get weirder?” Akaashi threatened. “Cause I can.”

“Oh god. I want Noya and Midori back.”

“Well too bad! They gone, bitch, you stuck with me!”

Bokuto laughed. “Damn it. I always forget you’re funnier than me.”

Akaashi smiled. “I am pretty funny, aren’t I?”

“Don’t get too full of yourself. Bitch.”

“It sounds wrong coming from you.”

“Ok my turn!” Bokuto insisted. “Worst person you’ve dated. Bar no details.”

“Oh no…” Akaashi’s smile fell, and Bokuto’s face lit up.

~

The resulting story had Bokuto flailing on the sofa with his legs bicycling in the air and tears streaming down his face.

“Kou,” Akaashi pleaded. “Stop laughing at me.”

“Where do you fucking find these people???” Bokuto howled. “And how long did this last?”

“Mm-mm.” Akaashi shook his head, determined to maintain at least a little dignity.

“Keiji.”

“A month.”

“A MONTH!” Bokuto lost it again. “Dude how???”

“Ok wait, you don’t understand!” Akaashi tried to defend himself. “The sex was so good!”

“Bro, that is not an excuse!”

Akaashi let him laugh it out. When he had calmed down, he asked his next question. “Ok. Worst mistake you’ve made.”

Bokuto winced. “Oof. You want funny mistake or deep?”

“Fuck it, go deep.”

“Fine.” Bokuto thought about it for a minute. Unfortunately he had several options to choose from. “I slept with Konoha’s sister.”

“Oh…” Akaashi frowned. “Naomi?”

Bokuto nodded.

“Didn’t you like…used to babysit her?”

“Not really. I mean, I was there when Konoha was watching her. She’s five years younger. Which is a huge deal when you’re 16 but…doesn’t feel so much when you run into her with her college friends at a bar.”

“Oh Kou…”

“Yeah. I was 25. Bad time.”

“Did Konoha ever find out?”

“Oh yeah,” Bokuto sighed. “Tried to punch my lights out. I let him.” This was still one of Bokuto’s greatest regrets. It had happened right after he’d heard Kousuke had moved back to Italy. He’d gotten drunk and done something truly horrible and lost a decade old friend in the process. Konoha had shown up at his apartment and punched him in the face as he yelled that he’d never forgive him. It had been one of the incidents that really made Bokuto start to rethink his life and get back under control.

“Damn.” Akaashi had been vaguely aware of a falling out amongst the Fukurodani alumni, but he didn’t know what had happened.

“We’re ok now. He forgave me eventually. But yeah it sucked.”

“I’m sorry.”

“My own fault.”

“Still. Sorry.”

“Ok,” Bokuto smiled again. “How much money did you spend on books this year? And spoiler alert. My next question will be how many of them did you actually read.”

Akaashi paled and opened his credit card app, utterly terrified.

By 4AM they were both lying down. Akaashi on the floor and Bokuto on the sofa.

“Maybe I just never learned how to love,” Akaashi murmured up at the ceiling. “Maybe I’m just totally broken.”

“You’re not broken, Keiji. I’m broken,” Bokuto said. “I make all the wrong choices and never learn. I worry I’m gonna die filled with regret.”

“You won’t. You’re amazing. You just need to love yourself more. So do I.”

“That is our problem isn’t it! God, wouldn’t the world be a better place if we all just learned to love ourselves?”

“For sure. It’s all just fear. We make mistakes because we’re afraid of making even worse mistakes.”

“I think people just want to be known. We want to be loved.”

Akaashi and Bokuto were convinced they were having the deepest conversation of all time. Really they were just tired.

~

At 5 they decided to make a list of goals for the next year.

“Top energy,” Akaashi stated. He was standing in front of the whiteboard Bokuto used to plan gameplay. The words ‘TOP ENERGY’ were written in bold letters. “That’s the theme for 2022. No longer will people look at me and think I’m getting railed by body builders. Strong. Confident. In charge. Akaashi Keiji is the new big man on campus. Top. Energy.”

Bokuto was nearly in tears. “You’re only 26! Why are you praying for an early twink death?!”

“I’m not praying for twink death! I’m channeling hot twink who will fuck you. Also, wait, I’m not a twink!”

“Keiji…come on…”

“Ok fine, I can see why people might think that. But that’s why I need the goal is top energy!”

“Still!” Bokuto laughed. “This is crazy.”

“Shut up, bitch, why don’t you try channelling some bottom energy?”

“No!” Bokuto gasped. “That is not anyone’s goal!”

“Well then what should my goal be instead, huh?”

“I don’t know, probably work on your stress levels. How about getting a massage once a month?”

“Ew, no. I don’t want a stranger touching me like that.”

“Keiji come on. It feels so good.”

“Ugh,” Akaashi grimaced. “No,” he said, leaning even further into his bit. “Top energy. That is what will save me this year. In fact, maybe I do want twink death. Sub goal,” he wrote on the whiteboard. “Fuck more twinks.”

“Dude give uuuppppppp,” Bokuto declared. “You’re gonna be a twink till the day you die!”

“Kou. I’m looking for exclusively supportive feedback right now.”

“I think you’re actually an insane person.”

~

At 6 Bokuto’s shoulder was hurting, and he had to go find his painkillers. By 7 they had kicked in enough that he started to doze off. Akaashi gently poked him awake and told him to get in bed. Bokuto nodded and trudged off to his room. Akaashi put on a pair of Bokuto’s sweats and went to the guest room where he finally fell asleep.

When they woke the next day, they threw together a 3 PM breakfast of leftovers, and Akaashi got ready to go.

He hugged Bokuto goodbye at the door.

“Thanks for coming Keiji,” Bokuto said.

“Thanks for having me,” Akaashi responded as he pulled back. “And listen,” Akaashi blushed as he tried to get serious. “You’re really incredible. Really. And you’re gonna be ok. And I know that might not be helpful to hear right now, but I know it’s true. Because you are so strong and really, really good. And I care about you a lot, and if you need anything please let me know. I’m, er, I’m here for you Kou. I mean it.”

Bokuto smiled, and his eyes started to water. “Thanks Keiji. Thanks a lot. I appreciate it. You’re also really great.”

Akaashi nodded with an awkward smile. “Take care, Kou.” He gave him another quick hug. “Bye.”

“Bye Keiji.” Bokuto let go and wiped his eyes on his shirt sleeve as Akaashi began his walk down the stairs.

Chapter Text

Akaashi: I got that massage.

It was terrible.

She found muscles I didn’t know I had and they were all rock solid. I wanted to die.

But also it was amazing and I’m going back next week.

Bokuto: Lmaooo glad you liked it

Akaashi: She said I had the stiffest neck she’d ever touched. Apparently I just shouldn’t be able to move. She asked me if I’d been in a car accident.

Bokuto: 😂😂😂I told you you’re a super stressed person!

Akaashi: This woman told me I could go to a doctor and get a prescription for massages.

So I wouldn’t even have to pay for them.

Like I’ve been medically diagnosed with ‘stressed as fuck.’ I’m humiliated.

Bokuto: 😂😂😂😂😂😂 Dude this is hilarious and so sad

Akaashi: Do you think I’m stressed enough to get a xanax prescription?

Bokuto: I think you’re a poster child for a xanax prescription

Akaashi: Fantastic

Bokuto: Do you want my leftover oxys from the surgery

Akaashi: Bitch you’re supposed to get rid of those if you don’t use them

Bokuto: I keep forgetting to look up how to properly dispose of them

Akaashi: You’re the reason the oceans are full of dope

Bokuto: If the oceans are full of dope why is it so hard to get

The Winter carried on. Bokuto started physical therapy on his shoulder. It proved to be better than he expected. Three times a week he would show up to the clinic, and his therapist would give him ice or a hot pack and gently massage his aching shoulder. The exercises were simple too, and after a few weeks of diligent at home work, he started to feel better.

The repetitive nature and slight pain of the stretches helped distract him from the rest of his messy life. In January he and Mio began the divorce process in earnest. It was filled with difficult conversations and even more difficult choices. They discussed giving their marriage another try, but both agreed in the end that it would be best to leave this chapter of their lives behind.

It was heartbreaking to sit in an office building and divide their assets, though they remained amicable during the process. As a pro-athlete, Bokuto made significantly more money than Mio did as a first year resident, and since they hadn’t had a prenup, the lawyers helped them work out a deal.

Bokuto had grown up poor, and he still felt deeply uncomfortable with discussions of money. In his mind he had far too much of it and had no idea what he was supposed to be doing with it all. Helping his ex-wife out seemed like a no-brainer. But of course the world was more complicated than this generous and open-hearted young man could understand. Bokuto was happy to continue supporting Mio as long as she needed it, but she felt wrong taking his money when they’d been married barely a year. He ended up keeping his apartment, but agreed to help her with rent when she found a new place. Savings were split as well, and Bokuto felt more comfortable knowing he was sending Mio off with enough support to keep her happy and safe.

When they’d first met, she’d been living off her tiny school stipend in her tiny studio apartment, and it was important to Bokuto that she never have to go back to that situation until she could support herself on her own in a few years.

Even with their level of cooperation, it took several months for the whole ordeal to be finalized. Their lawyers told them that the battle over child custody was usually what took the longest. Bokuto and Mio had mixed feelings about not having to have that discussion.

Bokuto lay on the table at his physical therapy office one day deep in thought about how he was going to be a divorced man at only 27 years old. It didn’t feel real. He compared his life now to how he thought it would be just a few months ago. If their baby had made it, he’d probably be happily working with his wife on a baby registry and planning baby showers and painting a nursery pink. Instead he was repeating minor shoulder exercises and living alone in an apartment that felt more empty than ever.

In early March, he was given the ok to start practicing again. He’d been looking forward to this for months. Never in his life had he gone this long without spiking a ball, and he’d missed it terribly. Atsumu had been back on the court for a few weeks now, and Bokuto asked if they could practice hitting just the two of them before his first official day back.

Bokuto took extra care doing his PT exercises that morning and practiced the spiking motion several times before actually jumping for a ball. When they got to the gym, he felt a nervous anticipation as they warmed up their bodies, but he couldn’t help but grin as he tossed the ball to Atsumu for the first time. His friend set it up in a high, gorgeous, easy to hit arc, and he made his approach.

He felt a flash of pain as his left arm extended out towards the ball, but he quickly twisted his body and swung his good arm as hard as he could. The ball slammed into the ground on the other side of the net. Not quite where he was aiming, but still in bounds.

Bokuto landed back on the floor with a huff. He gently rolled his left shoulder a few times until the muscles relaxed. Then he looked at Atsumu with that determined smile. “That’s one,” he said.

After a short practice with Atsumu, Bokuto went to the divorce office for the last time. He sat at a desk with Mio and their lawyers as they signed the official documents to finalize their divorce. On March 8^th 2022, Bokuto became a legally single man again, and he understood the word bittersweet a little better than he ever had before.

He and Mio thanked their lawyers before walking together outside. Bokuto smiled as he looked at her. She was doing better these days. Her tan skin and pale hair had a bit of their glow back, and her green eyes shined bright again. The effort she put into her outfits and makeup had also started to return, and she looked almost happy.

“How is work going?” Bokuto asked. “Everything ok?”

Mio looked up at him. “It’s getting better,” she said. “I’m starting to enjoy it again. And I feel like I’m learning.”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “I’m alright, Kou.”

Bokuto’s face softened. “That makes me happy.”

“How about you? You doing ok?”

Bokuto nodded. “I hit a ball earlier today. Only hurt a little. But it felt great.”

Mio chuckled. “That’s amazing. You’ve got this. I know it. You’ve worked so hard.”

“Thanks Mio,” Bokuto replied. “That means a lot.”

They settled into silence as they reached Mio’s bus stop. Bokuto wasn’t sure what to say. It would likely be the last time they saw each other for a long time. In their discussions over the last few months, they’d agreed to not contact each other for a time to allow their feelings to settle as they got used to being single again. After everything, he was finally ready to let go of their marriage, but losing the friendship was a little harder.

Mio seemed to feel the same way. As they paused at the stop, she turned to him with a big inhale and a smile. “So,” she said. “Wanna throw ourselves a divorce party?”

Bokuto laughed. “Don’t tempt me. You know we’d have a great time.”

Mio laughed too. “Maybe for our 1^st divorce anniversary then.”

“I’ll save the date.” They smiled at each other, then Bokuto pulled her in for a final tight hug. “You’re gonna be amazing Mio.”

“You too Kou. I’ll still be watching your games, so you better play well.”

“I will,” Bokuto laughed. “I promise.”

They pulled apart and took a step back. “Bye Koutarou,” Mio said, and she waved goodbye.

“Bye Mio,” Bokuto waved back. With one last smile, he turned and kept walking towards the train station.

Akaashi mostly spent his winter preparing for the upcoming book release. As for his personal life, the quest for top energy was not as prolific as he’d hoped. He dated around, but mostly for fun. It was still difficult for him to imagine actually getting into a relationship yet. But he figured if Bokuto could maintain a positive attitude after getting divorced, then he could stand to lighten up his own outlook on relationships too.

In February, he decided to pick up an English book off his shelf. He’d been buying English books for years, but had never tried to read one. But he’d been practicing with Midori for over six months, and he felt it was time to give it a try. He started with a translation of Kokoro which he’d read many times before in Japanese. His reading speed was significantly slowed, and it took him several weeks to finish the book, but he was happy to see he was able to understand the whole story. By the end he even had notes of how he would have translated certain passages differently. He smiled as he thought that maybe someday he could be a translator as well as an editor.

At the end of March, The Sidewalk was published to glowing reviews and booming sales. Akaashi couldn’t have been more proud. It was the first novel he’d worked on, and the people loved it. It made Akaashi feel more connected to the world than he had in a long time. Yamauchi-sensei of course decided to keep Akaashi as his permanent editor, and the transition from manga to the literature department was complete.

On Akaashi’s last day in the office, the whole Shonen team threw him a surprise going away party, and he accepted their congratulations with a furious blush and many thanks for all his years with them. He said goodbye to Tenma for the last time, and made him promise to keep giving Haikyuu everything he had. Akaashi knew he would be eagerly awaiting the new chapters every week. And not just to make sure the new editor was working up to his standard.

Within his first week he met with several authors to see if he’d be a match for their novels, and he selected a few manuscripts that lined up with his interests, excited to get to work in his new position.

~

By the end of the volleyball season, Bokuto was ready to take back his starting position as outside hitter. He called Akaashi when he got the news, and told him he better tune into the game the next week. Akaashi of course agreed that he would.

The day of the match, he sat on his couch and watched it with Yachi. She clapped and cheered while Akaashi smiled along.

Bokuto had known how to draw in a crowd since he was in middle school, and when MSBY announced he was coming back, tickets quickly sold out. When he stepped onto the court for the first time since November, the crowd roared at the top of their lungs. Bokuto cheered and pumped his fists in the air and whistled to his adoring fans as he ran across the court. He took a deep, theatrical bow when his coach yelled at him to get to the bench already. The audience just screamed louder.

Bokuto looked great. Akaashi could see the joy on his face all the way from Tokyo, and it almost brought a tear to his eye. Bokuto loved this game more than Akaashi could imagine, and being out of it for so long, especially in such a difficult time, must have been terrible for him.

MSBY won the game with Hinata ending it in an impressive slide hit. Once the official call was made, Hinata leapt onto Bokuto, and he held his little friend with his right arm while raising the injured one in the air. You’d never have been able to tell he’d been in a sling just a few months ago. When something was important, Bokuto knew how to work hard. As Akaashi watched them celebrate on his tv screen, he thought about their long days and nights spent in the Fukurodani gym when they’d both been so young. Every day after practice Bokuto would look at him as their teammates packed up.

“‘Kaashi, set a few balls for me!”

“Ok Bokuto-san,” Akaashi would say.

Hours and many more than a few balls later, Bokuto would be running on fumes but never giving in. And Akaashi would stay with him well into the night because he was too in love to leave.

In the years after that, Bokuto would tell Akaashi that he’d stayed to practice because he was in love too, even if he didn’t know it yet. But Akaashi knew that he would have been there regardless. Nothing could keep Bokuto from volleyball. If Akaashi hadn’t stayed, he still would have been there just as late even if he was alone.

Akaashi couldn’t believe it had been a whole decade since those days. Things were so simple back then, though at the time everything had felt like life and death. It warmed Akaashi inside and made  his heart fit to burst to think that all these years later, he was still lucky enough to have Bokuto in his life.

At 15, Akaashi had thought he’d have only two years before he said goodbye forever to a brilliant boy he’d secretly loved. Instead at 26, he was watching that same boy play, knowing he could call him whenever he wanted. He could never have imagined in his awkward teenage days that someday this would be the relationship they had. And he was so proud.

After the game he got a call from Noya. Apparently he and Midori wanted to take all their friends on vacation to Okinawa the next month once Bokuto had finished his season. Akaashi laughed. What a life he lived! And his gratitude journal was full that night.

Chapter Text

MSBY kept winning. They kept winning for the rest of the season. They kept winning through the championship rounds and playoffs until the final game. At the end of April, Akaashi, Noya, Midori, Yachi, Asahi, Kuroo, and Kenma went to the stadium downtown to watch the final game.

It was the first time Akaashi had watched Bokuto play in person since that day at the Olympics with Kousuke. And he was reminded again how dangerous it was to watch Bokuto Koutarou play volleyball. Akaashi laughed, and his heart raced, and he smiled more than he wanted to. Bokuto Koutarou was a force. He was joy and passion. He was freedom and fire. And Akaashi let himself fall in with the crowd and get swept up in it.

It was a close match. Going all the way to five sets. But MSBY won this game too. As Sakusa scored the winning point, the rest of the bench rushed onto the court. A wave of cheers washed over Akaashi, and he gasped up at the bright lights as confetti cannons shot out black and gold. Midori screamed and leapt onto him from his right, and he held her tiny body around the waist before passing her back to Noya who was leaning over the railing and pounding his fist in the air with a deafening shout.

Akaashi looked at Yachi on his other side. She was in tears with her hands pressed against her mouth as she stared down at their friends celebrating their incredible victory. Even Kenma was smiling and on his feet.

Akaashi looked back down at the court and saw Bokuto jumping for joy with his friends and teammates, and he couldn’t help but think that no one deserved this more.

Once the crowd thinned a little, Midori’s security walked her into the depths of the gym where she’d wait in private. She’d long since stopped being able to walk amongst the public. The others made their way down to the court to greet the players and take pictures.

Bokuto’s face lit up when he saw them and he hugged them one by one. Akaashi felt a little rush at the familiar smell of Bokuto’s sweat. That apparently wasn’t something that had changed.

“You were amazing, Kou,” he said into his shoulder.

“Thanks Keiji. Thanks for coming.” Bokuto’s grin was blinding.

They said congratulations to the rest of the team, with Noya and Hinata leaping into the air and hugging and shouting over each other the whole time.

~

After the game, everyone except the volleyball players went to the airport. Atsumu, Bokuto, and Hinata would be joining them the next day after doing some wrap up work for the season. Midori and Noya had rented out a beachside villa in Okinawa for the whole group. Midori had lived with her grandparents on the Okinawan island of Miyakojima for the first eight years of her life before moving to Miyagi. Her grandparents still lived there, and they were getting older, so lately she’d been considering purchasing a home in her home prefecture. She’d found this property on the main island and decided to bring her friends along for a vacation to see how she liked it.

She and Noya had said if MSBY won, it would be a celebration; and if they didn’t, they still got to go to the beach. Akaashi did not like the beach, but he did like his friends, and so he was persuaded to go. Luckily Kenma also hated the beach, so he would have someone to sit with inside.

When they landed and stepped off the plane, the air was warm and humid to a nearly suffocating degree in Akaashi’s opinion. He’d only been to Okinawa in winter before, and it felt quite different in early summer. They got into a private car that drove them to the house on a secluded property on the opposite side of the island from the big city. It dropped them off practically right on the beach.

The house was enormous. Midori said it had ten bedrooms, and everyone was welcome to pick whichever they wanted. As he helped unload everyone’s bags, Akaashi breathed in the scent of salt water and wild plants. Even he could admit that the view was absolutely gorgeous.

Once everyone was settled, Noya set up three grills on the long dining room table and brought out platters of fresh meat and vegetables and bottles of sake while Midori made platters of rice and noodles and mixed up dipping sauces. The friends sat around the table in the beautiful foyer with its vaulted ceilings and chandeliers, and talked and laughed as they ate.

Midori and Noya seemed to be competing for who could be the loudest. Each sat on their respective ends of the table talking a mile a minute and telling stories to the friends they didn’t see nearly often enough.

Akaashi sat near the middle of the table with Yachi, smiling as he sipped his drink and nibbled at his grilled vegetables. He always though of himself as anti-social, but when he got to sit in a room with his best friends and delicious food amongst their shouts of joy and laughter, he was immensely grateful for the life he’d built.

He helped Noya and Midori clean up after dinner while everyone else went out to start a fire on the beach. Once the jam packed dishwasher was started, Noya and Midori ran hand in hand out to the beach to join their friends. Akaashi stood on the front porch watching from afar. From behind him he heard the noise of a Nintendo Switch booting up, and he turned to find Kenma taking a seat on one of the porch chairs.