Work Text:
Title inspiration:
Kishi Bashi — "This Must Be the Place" (Cover)
•
Bokuto awoke to the sound of rain.
He could hear it falling steadily onto his apartment’s balcony, gathering in small puddles and dripping down onto the sidewalk below. Water rushed down a nearby gutter. A car drove by, its wheels cutting through the slick street.
Bokuto blinked his eyes open slowly as the ceiling above him came into focus. The light pouring in from the window was dim, casting his bedroom’s white walls to a muted grey. He yawned—a long, jaw-popping yawn complete with a piercing sigh—and began stretching out his limbs little by little.
There was movement to his right. A knee that had been digging into his thigh unfolded, and slowly the leg in its entirety tangled with his. Hands, then forearms, then a warm chest pressed into Bokuto’s side.
Glancing down, Bokuto could only see a mop of messy black hair poking out from under the covers. He smiled. “Akaashi, are you awake?”
He felt a warm puff of air hit his bare skin, then heard a stern whisper: “No.”
Bokuto chuckled. He brought his arms around Akaashi’s back, rubbing a few times on the space between his shoulder blades. Akaashi hummed.
This was Bokuto’s favorite kind of morning. Akaashi had stayed over since they both had the next day off of class and practice. It was raining, giving Bokuto an excuse to forgo his usual morning jog. The slight chill in the air made Akaashi extra snuggly.
“What do you want for breakfast, Akaashi?”
Akaashi’s legs tightened around his, as if daring him to move. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered. "We’re not getting up yet.”
Bokuto had discovered, after many nights of Akaashi staying over at his apartment, that his boyfriend was not a morning person. Add to that the cold and the calming sound of rain and well, it would be difficult to get him moving today.
“Whatever you say.” His hand resumed the light massaging of Akaashi’s spine. He felt the younger man shiver. “Though... if we got up now I could make you some coffee.”
Akaashi was silent for a few beats. And then, in one incredibly fluid movement, the young man slithered out of Bokuto’s arms and swung a leg over his waist. He straddled him, his body weight pinning Bokuto down.
Bokuto’s jaw dropped as Akaashi slid his fingers up Bokuto’s chest and over his shoulders to plant his palms on either side of his head. “Bokuto-san,” Akaashi murmured, eyes going half-lidded. “Are you trying to seduce me with espresso?”
Holy shit. Bokuto wasn’t sure if he was getting turned on or about to descend into hysterics. Maybe it was both. He bit his lip hard as his hands came to settle on Akaashi’s hipbones.
Akaashi lowered himself so that his mouth was right at Bokuto’s ear. “Because it might just work.”
Bokuto groaned as his fingers toyed at the waist of his boyfriend’s pajama pants. If this was how the morning was going to go, he was okay with that. “Well, we could stay in for a bit longer...”
“Nope. You’ve convinced me.” In a devastating maneuver, Akaashi slid off of Bokuto, leaving the latter simultaneously freezing and on fire. Bokuto watched in shock as his boyfriend left his bed. “I’m using your shower.”
“Akaashi!”
Akaashi raised one eyebrow. “I expect a perfectly brewed pot to be ready by the time I’m done, Bokuto-san.”
Bokuto huffed, thoroughly frustrated as he watched Akaashi exit the room with a slight swing in his hips. “I get it,” he called. “I woke you up too early, so this is payback, right?”
He threw on a sweater and his fuzzy owl slippers before hurrying to the kitchen. From a low cabinet he retrieved a container of beans, an electric grinder and the shiny stovetop espresso maker he’d brought back from Italy.
Bokuto actually hated coffee. He was loyal to tea, having dedicated an entire quadrant of his kitchen cabinet space to his collection. But Akaashi was a coffee hound. An espresso abuser. A bean fiend. So Bokuto kept the offensive stuff in his apartment—if only to keep his boyfriend happy when he stayed over.
Eventually Akaashi entered the kitchen, his hair still damp from the shower. He was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt that read “NO” in large English type. “Is my coffee ready?”
“Calm down, it’s right here.” Bokuto carefully picked up the espresso pot by the handle and poured a serving into a small ceramic cup resting on the counter. He slid it over to Akaashi, who eagerly accepted.
Bokuto watched in amusement as the young man took a long whiff before slowly sipping the espresso. His eyes fluttered shut. A look of ecstasy overcame his features.
“Is it up to standard, your majesty?”
Akaashi shot him a glare as he stalked away to sit at the kitchen table. Bokuto chuckled, turning his attention to filling up and starting his electric kettle. “Honestly, why don’t you just take that with you to your dorm?”
“What?”
Bokuto gestured to the stove. “The espresso maker. You know I don’t use it.”
Akaashi was silent as he took another sip. His gaze traveled to the window, which rain and wind continued to pummel incessantly. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Bokuto took a moment to admire his profile—the expanse of his neck, his sharp jaw, his slightly upturned nose.
“I think it belongs here with you,” Akaashi said softly.
Bokuto shrugged and reached into a cabinet for a sachet of genmaicha and his favorite cup (a custom photo mug featuring him and Kuroo dabbing). He finished his tea-making and went to join Akaashi, whose nails were tapping out an inconsistent rhythm on his cup, echoing the raindrops outside. He looked deep in thought.
He also looked adorable. Despite having taken a shower, Akaashi's eyes were still full of sleep. As his hair gradually dried, curls had formed around his ears and neck. His clothing looked soft and rumpled. His entire presence, tucked into the small kitchen nook, sipping his coffee while a storm raged outside, made Bokuto’s heart ache.
Maybe we should have stayed in bed, Bokuto mused. Gods, he’s pretty…
“I think I belong here, too.”
Bokuto was pulled out of his reverie. His boyfriend was looking at him now, stormy blue eyes fixed on Bokuto’s golden with fierce determination. At first Bokuto was confused—the last thing he remembered, they had been discussing kitchen appliances.
A clap of thunder hit close, startling them both and for some reason, the noise was enough to clear Bokuto’s mind and make him understand the meaning of Akaashi’s words. He inhaled sharply.
Akaashi… wants to live here? With me?
Bokuto watched intently as his boyfriend’s cheeks gradually bloomed to a cherry red. The younger man’s resolute expression did not waver, though he looked like he was holding his breath, ready to drop and run if Bokuto showed the slightest bit of hesitation.
Bokuto could have laughed. It was ridiculous for Akaashi to even be imagining a scenario where Bokuto would not want to live with him, cook and clean with him, have every morning be like today—waking up with limbs intertwined and pulses close.
Bokuto sighed, a soft smile falling easily onto his lips. He folded his arms onto the table and leaned forward. “Akaashi, if you lived here I would make you coffee every day,” he said.
Akaashi’s eyes widened. The harsh grip he had on his cup relaxed and his jaw unclenched. He looked down at his hands, gnawing on his bottom lip.
“Then again, sometimes I might have to leave earlier,” Bokuto continued, slowly maneuvering his foot to hook his ankle around Akaashi’s. “Not every morning can be as perfect as today, huh?”
Akaashi huffed, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Bokuto watched in delight as the man’s face gradually transformed from cautious determination to relief. And happiness. Bokuto didn’t think he’d ever seen Akaashi look so giddy.
“It has been nice,” Akaashi agreed.
Bokuto reached for his hand, but Akaashi was suddenly on his feet, making his way to the stove. He gingerly rested his fingers on the handle of the espresso pot, turning back to face Bokuto with a fond look in his eyes. “You bought this for me in Europe,” he said, a slight tremor to his voice. “Even though we were taking a break at the time. And you’ve kept it here since, and learned how to use it... for me.”
Bokuto nodded and strode over to stand with his boyfriend. He smirked. “Well, yeah. For my own protection. You’re kind of scary when you haven’t had your caffeine.”
Akaashi shook his head, but he was smiling. “You ass.”
“You love me.”
Akaashi leaned in and grabbed the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I really do.” He crashed their lips together, and Bokuto only had a moment to catch his bearings before the rest of Akaashi’s lean frame was on him, too.
Bokuto hummed, bringing his hands around the other man’s waist. They kissed with increasing intensity, a light pattering building into a tempest of frenzied passion. Akaashi was soon shoving him out of the kitchen, through the living room and into the bedroom.
He kept pushing until the back of Bokuto’s legs were hitting the bed, causing him to topple over backwards and land with a small bounce. Chuckling, he scooted back and Akaashi followed, crawling to straddle his lap for the second time that morning.
“About earlier... let me make it up to you,” he said, huskily but with a hint of impatience that only fueled Bokuto’s amusement. He watched Akaashi remove his sweater, throwing it haphazardly across the room before ducking down to devour Bokuto’s mouth once again.
“Your coffee is getting cold,” Bokuto muttered, but Akaashi did not slow down.
“You’ll… make me… a new pot… later, right?” he asked in between kisses.
Bokuto grinned. “Of course.”
The storm did not subside for the rest of the day. Its strength waxed and waned, but it remained steady, a wall of comfort that seemed to cocoon Bokuto and Akaashi inside his—no, their small apartment.
Bokuto did not mind that both of his daily jogs had been abandoned. Or that the most he and Akaashi did all day was cook a batch of instant ramen, take another hot shower together and settle onto the couch to play excessive rounds of Mario Kart. He couldn’t wait to do these things again and again, for the rest of their lives.
That night, Bokuto found himself in the bed one last time, curled around Akaashi as close as was humanly possible, their hearts beating in tandem as the sound of rain lulled him to sleep.
•
Home, is where I want to be
But I guess I'm already there
I come home, she lifted up her wings
I guess that this must be the place
—Talking Heads