Work Text:
His head feels like an iron cog straining in one position, the pressure so tight his eyes hurt to open. He shuffles under the covers, thankful he doesn’t have to be in for work that day, the warmth of his bed calling him deeper again. The arm around his waist bearing down on him.
The arm?
Akaashi opens his eyes, his muscles tighten up when he stares into the large expanse of a back twice his size, the tan skin warm in the morning sun. He shifts, and feels the arm tighten slightly. Another man rests behind him, and he can feel his nose press into the back of his neck. He stiffens.
Akaashi lives completely alone, he has no partner, and with the little effort he can muster he can’t remember the night before.
He has to get out of bed... now!
Akaashi lifts a hand and gently lifts the wrist from around his waist, placing it back behind him, and when he looks, he sees Bokuto, head resting on his pillow, eyes still closed. He takes a deep breath and Akaashi holds his. He puts a hand to his mouth and tries not to let his heart race out of his chest. Because not only is Bokuto in his bed, sleeping like he belongs there, but he’s indescribably and utterly naked. The sheets ride low on his hip, exposing the cut bone and muscle of his body and Akaashi’s hand shakes.
He looks around at the one before him, and doesn’t recognize the stubbled face drooling on his bed, and he grimaces, knowing he’ll have to wash the sheets later.
He shifts between the two men, but as he turns he sees something else.
On the other side of Bokuto, laying flat on his back with his hand on his chest, is another man and Akaashi’s chest almost collapses. He’s impaled by each new realization, at how each man rests in his bed, how they encompassed him all night, all four of them naked and with bright red and purple marks littering their necks and chests.
“Fuck.” Akaashi whispers to himself, and he lifts off the bed, tip-toeing to his bathroom as quietly as he can.
There’s no clothing on the floor of his room, but when he glances down the hall to the living room, he sees the distant mess of underwear and shirts cluttered around the couch and floor of his living room and hallway.
Akaashi closes the door to his bathroom, the soft click like a scream in his head. His hands shake and he spins around to look in the mirror and his jaw gapes at the mess of his body.
Along the pale skin of his clavicle, down his chest and up his neck are deep purple and black bruises he knows he’ll never be able to hide with the emergency makeup he keeps. They’re paired with the bruises on his hips, finger outlines resting on the inside of his hips, wrapping around to his back and ass, and he turns as he looks at it all.
His lips still feel swollen and he runs a hand over them. His head aches, and he knows he had too much to drink last night. He pats down his bed head, and turns on the faucet, washing his face as he desperately tries to remember what happened. He sighs into the cool water, letting himself melt for a moment into its peace.
Slowly the memories start to surface, the blurry faded feeling of his disappointment when Bokuto turned him down to go to the festival with him, and how he decided to go alone. He smacks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, and he can taste the remnants of alcohol and come.
He moves to sit on the toilet putting the cover down and sitting with his head in his hands. He can tell he had sex last night, and by the way that there’s four fucking naked men in his bed, he’s assuming it was with all of them. He was drunk, and he’s been told how he is when he’s drunk, he’s come to get used to waking up in stranger's beds trying to remember what happened the night before. This isn’t unusal, but four fucking men... that was what made his heart drop to the pit of his stomach, and the idea that Bokuto was one of those men. He couldn’t care less about the other two, they may as well have just been fun times, but Bokuto, Bokuto Koutarou, the man he’s been in love with since he was 15. That was heartbreaking, because that was the first time they’ve ever done anything. And he couldn’t remember any of it.
Fuck.
He stares at his feet and tries to remember the festival, how he arrived on his own and he remembers getting there, he remembers the beer he ordered pretty quickly into the night, and the second and third as he walked from stall to stall. And then he found a sake stall, and had some there, and wow he really drank too much. Akaashi’s always known he can’t really hold his alcohol, which is why he doesn’t drink often, but he really overdid it this time, because it’s the first time in years that he’s woken up hungover. And with an already poor memory, alcohol has never helped.
He remembers after his second sake sip, he saw Bokuto a few stalls away. He remembers his face under the orange lantern light, and Akaashi smiles. He remembers how he thought he looked pretty and quickly drew closer.
As each memory fades in and out, Akaashi grows hotter and hotter in his skin.
Bokuto wasn’t alone, because the reason he couldn’t come with Akaashi was because he was already going with his friends from the gym. His very attractive and muscular friends from the gym, and Akaashi remembers his exact words when he saw them all.
“Wow, you all really DO work out.” And Akaashi puts his hands in his hair. He could cry at the embarrassment.
It fell apart from there, Akaashi’s tipsy words as he stroked their arms and smiled happily up at them. How he invited them all back to his, the uncertainty in Bokuto's voice. How Akaashi insisted he was fine, how he smiled and hated himself for not being able to open his mouth to Bokuto. He was still scared to tell him. He’d never confessed, and he didn’t know how to, after all these years.
They all came back with him.
Akaashi looks up at himself in the mirror. He laughs, and lays his head back. Because it was all back to him now, every last bit, every last feeling. He put a hand to his ass and giggled. This couldn’t possibly be happening to him, right?
Their hands slipped over him like they wanted to devour him, and Akaashi laid himself out like he used to in college, when he had no real self control. He let them share him, each one taking turns bending him over the back of the couch and fucking into him until he was moaning with tears in his eyes. He came four times, one with each, stretched out as they held him down.
Akaashi closes his eyes and remembers how he took Bokuto’s cock as another fucked his mouth, how hot he felt pressed to Bokuto, and then how weak he became when the third cock pushed into him at the same time.
But most of all, he remembers Bokuto, looking at him with the softest eyes he’s ever seen the man have. How even with the others there, he held him gently and pressed his lips to his chest like he was gracing him.
Akaashi wraps his arms around his chest and tries harder to remember that feeling.
For a single night, he was allowed to absorb all of Bokuto’s attention, and even drunk Akaashi only ever looked at him, watched him for instructions, for soft words and encouragement. He was the only one Akaashi really spoke to.
Akaashi almost screams into his hands. The worst part of it all though, was that it was great sex, he loved it, and now that he could remember...
He squeezed his thighs together. The worst part was that now he was hard again.
Fuck.
Akaashi stares down at his growing erection and contemplates if he should do something about it, or just leave it to settle.
“Akaashi?”
He freezes and tenses on the toilet seat.
There’s a small rap at the door and Akaashi recognizes the smooth voice that comes from the other side.
“Keiji, is everything okay?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi doesn’t know how to open his mouth to speak.
He’s hiding, half hard in his bathroom after having drunkenly fucked his best friend for the first time, and now said friend is at his bathroom door, the morning after, asking if everything is okay.
Things could not be worse, actually.
“Um... yeah, I’m okay,” Akaashi responds and his skin crawls with the hoarseness of his voice.
Fuck.
He doesn’t hear any footsteps, and below the door he can still see the blocking of the light by Bokuto’s feet.
“Akaashi...” Bokuto says eventually. Akaashi bites into his lips. He can’t face Bokuto yet, he can’t look him in the eyes after last night. Not now that he’s remembered. He has too many questions: was it good for him? Does he hate him? Has this ruined us?
“Akaashi, I can hear you overthinking,” Bokuto says and he turns the knob of the bathroom slowly.
“It’s okay Bokuto-san, I’m okay,” He says, the words ripping out of him.
“Please don’t come in yet.”
Akaashi looks down at himself again, his dick still hard and not going down. He thought he could wait it out in the bathroom or get rid of it but now Bokuto is at the door, calling for him.
“Um...” Akaashi starts.
“Bokuto-san, could you... could you get me some underwear please?” He asks and his voice shakes in his chest. It’s unbearable, how nervous he is, how embarrassed and frustrated. His chest tight like a knot pulled at both ends, he feels as if he’s ripping apart.
“Yeah, yeah sure,” Bokuto says. He speaks quietly, but Akaashi can hear the worry in his voice, and he’s happy it’s Bokuto who’s woken up first.
“Thank you,” He squeaks out, but he knows Bokuto doesn’t hear, as his feet quickly step away from the door. Akaashi can hear the slight rustle of his drawers being opened and the creak as Bokuto searches through them.
His shadow reappears under the door.
“Here,” He whispers and Akaashi gets up towards the door.
“I got you a sleep shirt too,” Bokuto whispers and Akaashi sighs at his thoughtfulness.
“Thank you,” Akaashi says again, and slips open the door a bit, just enough for Bokuto to slip the clothing through the crack as Akaashi hides behind the frame.
Akaashi takes the clothes and shuts the door again, slipping the underwear on first, and tucking his erection under the waistband. It’ll have to do for now, until it goes down. He pulls the shirt over his head, and adjusts it to cover as much of the marking as possible. Even though Bokuto’s probably already seen them all, and probably is responsible for many of them, Akaashi doesn’t want him to see them again, to be reminded of the memories they now share.
He can hear Bokuto still waiting on the other side of the door, refusing to leave him alone.
“You know you can use my first name, Keiji,” Bokuto whispers and Akaashi stares at the door, scrunching up the hem of the shirt. It hangs around his thighs.
Why is he bringing this up now? He’s said it before, and Akaashi’s response has always been the same.
“It’s okay, I like calling you Bokuto-san,” He whispers and he hears Bokuto sigh.
“Okay.”
“But you can always call me... Keiji, still,” Akaashi says and his cheeks bloom with redness. He squeezes his thighs together again, trying to keep the slight tremble in his body under control.
“I know,” Bokuto whispers and Akaashi reaches for the door knob.
“Thank you.” and Akaashi stops, Bokuto’s whisper seemingly sad. Akaashi opens his mouth, wanting to ask why, but he stops again, and shakes his head. Because he knows why. Bokuto told him what he wants, that Akaashi’s his best friend and he wants to be treated like he’s his. And it’s true, Bokuto is his best friend, but that’s exactly the problem. He’s his best friend who he’s in love with, he means more to Akaashi than any other person, so how can he possibly call out Bokuto’s first name and not feel like he’ll fall apart.
Akaashi pulls open the door and slowly looks up at Bokuto, a smile creeping onto his face. But it quickly dies as he takes Bokuto’s appearance fully in. Naked. He’s completely naked. And Akaashi is incredibly sober. And it’s not like Akaashi hasn’t seen Bokuto naked, they were in a sports club together, but that was then, and this is now. Bokuto is 25 years old, and a professional athlete now, taller, stronger, built, more defined and... bigger.
Akaashi lowers his gaze, staring at his feet.
“Bokuto-san you’re still naked,” Akaashi says quickly.
“Oh, sorry,” Bokuto says and Akaashi watches his feet step away.
Akaashi holds his hands together in front of him, fiddling his thumbs in the hem of his shirt. He looks around into the bedroom, at the two still sleeping men in his bed (thank god for having a king size or he would have been crushed) and Bokuto hunched over slipping on his underwear from the night before. Bokuto stands and looks back and Akaashi averts his gaze, looking back at his feet.
Bokuto appears again in front of him and Akaashi looks up at him in his underwear. It’s at least moderately better. And he can suggest giving him a shirt later.
“Sorry, I didn’t... I didn’t think... just sorry Keiji,” Bokuto says again, and rubs the back of his neck.
Akaashi looks again around Bokuto, at the men in his bed. His stomach twists.
“Could I ask... um for one more favor from you Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks and takes a step back into the bathroom, hand reaching for the door.
“Mmhm. Anything,” Bokuto says and his gaze meets Akaashi, brows tense with slight worry.
“Could yo— could you get your friends to leave?” Akaashi asks and he feels the back of his neck flare up with heat, embarrassment eating him up.
“I don’t kno—”
“Of course. I’ll do it now,” Bokuto interrupts him, and turns around immediately.
“Hey! Guys!” He shouts and Akaashi rushes to close the bathroom door, hiding behind it again.
The men in his bed grumble, their voices rough with sleep. Akaashi vaguely remembers the sounds of their voices, but it's then he realizes he doesn’t know their names. At least he doesn’t remember, and it’s highly possible that he may have never asked.
“Ya gotta get out, Akaashi needs to start his day, and you’re in his way.” Bokuto’s voice is strong and echoes in Akaashi’s apartment. The men groan more and Akaashi looks through the crack in the door.
The men are slow to sit up, but Bokuto is tapping at their shoulders and throwing their clothes at them trying to wake them up.
“Move it,” Bokuto says and Akaashi can’t pull his eyes away. Bokuto’s voice is stern, his brows pressed together as he ushers the men up and out of his apartment. It’s the first time Akaashi’s ever seen Bokuto be completely rude to anyone, be demanding.
“Alright man, alright, can you give us a moment?” One of the men asks, still sitting on Akaashi’s bed, head in one hand.
“No,” Bokuto says and Akaashi smiles a little, the idea that Bokuto is so stern for Akaashi’s sake seemingly sweet to him.
The men get their clothes together, slipping into them before being rushed into the living room.
Akaashi opens the door as they leave his room and tiptoes towards the hallway, looking around the corner.
Bokuto walks behind them, pushing his hands on the air to emphasize his request. And as one of them pulls their bag on their shoulder and steps slightly out of view he hears him ask Bokuto a question.
“That friend of yours sure is fun, you should bring him around more,” the guy says and Akaashi rolls his eyes, but when he looks at Bokuto’s face he doesn’t see any sense of humor, only the scrunch of his eyebrows as he looks at the man.
“Shut up.” and Akaashi almost can’t hear him from down the hall.
“You and I aren’t close like that, don’t make stupid jokes.” Bokuto says.
The other man scoffs and Akaashi can probably guess he’s rolling his eyes at Bokuto, but before they can say anything more, Bokuto is stepping forward, pressing them closer to the door with his presence. And he locks it behind them.
Akaashi comes down the hall and the few steps, and looks at Bokuto still gripping tightly to the door knob. He doesn’t speak, only watches as Bokuto takes a deep breath then tilts his head a little back.
“AKAASHI! THEY’RE GONE!” he shouts, loudly, and Akaashi jumps a little at the boom of his voice.
“I’m right here,” Akaashi says, his voice normal but still spooking Bokuto, who jolts slightly and turns to look at him.
“Oh,” he says with a sigh.
They stand there, as Bokuto turns to him, not saying anything. And Akaashi isn’t sure what to say, his head still pounding with a hangover and foggy from nervousness.
“Do you—” and Akaashi perks up at Bokuto’s words, thankful he’s always able to fill the air.
“Do you want me out of your hair too?” Bokuto asks and points a thumb towards the door.
“Oh, no. No you can stay,” Akaashi says and Bokuto smiles nodding his head.
“You don’t have anything planned today?” He asks and bends to pick up some articles of his own clothes, still strewn across the ground.
Akaashi watches him as he picks up his clothing, bunching them up in his arms. He shakes his head.
“No. It’s Saturday, so I’m completely free,” He says and Bokuto hums his response. And then suddenly he’s right below Akaashi, crouched down before him with a smile, looking up. Akaashi feels a tug and looks down more, realizing he’s standing on one of Bokuto’s socks.
“Oh, sorry.” Akaashi says and his cheeks flare up as he looks away.
“Do you—um. Do you have practice today?” Akaashi asks and returns his gaze as Bokuto stands again, his warm smile looking down on him again, ever so slightly taller than Akaashi.
“No, we get every other Saturday off,” he says and Akaashi nods trying to stay focused on his face. He’s still very much only in his underwear.
“Okay. that... that’s nice,” Akaashi says and his brows stitch together a bit at his awkwardness. He turns on his toes and walks back to his room.
“Uh... yeah it is,” Bokuto says and Akaashi looks over his shoulder at him, still standing in the living room.
Akaashi’s face flushes even more as he scampers into his room, pulling open his bottom dresser drawer where he keeps all the clothes Bokuto’s left here by accident. He pulls out a clean band shirt he left when they watched movies together in the summer two years ago. Akaashi would never admit that he actually hid the shirt so Bokuto wouldn’t be able to find it.
His feet slap lightly on the wood floor as he walks back to Bokuto with his hand stretched out, the t-shirt balled up in his fist.
“Here, so you don’t have to stand in just your underwear,” Akaashi says and Bokuto looks down.
“It’s okay, I can just put on my clothes from last night,” Bokuto says and smiles but Akaashi shakes his head.
He has no idea how to talk to this man now. The images of the night before flash through his head everytime he looks at him directly, the memory of that kind smile turning into a lustful smirk haunting him with every glance.
“No. I’ll— I’ll wash these for you,” Akaashi says and takes the clothes from Bokuto’s arms, bundling them and holding them to his chest.
“Okay…” Bokuto whispers and Akaashi turns on his toes. He opens the hallway closet to his washer and dryer, opening it and stuffing the clothes in.
“Um, do you want some coffee?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi nods, humming as he pulls down the detergent.
He starts Bokuto’s clothes on a cycle, closing the shade to the closet slowly. He doesn’t know what else to do, his brain frozen in its thoughts, empty to only the anxiety of his feelings being inadvertently known. He doesn’t have the courage to mention it.
“I can make breakfast,” Akaashi says. He wants to busy himself. He has to do something, anything that doesn’t have to do with staring at Bokuto’s face.
“Sure,” Bokuto says and sets Akaashi’s moka pot on the stove, and lighting it.
“It’s been a bit since we’ve hung out,” Bokuto says as Akaashi bends to pull out a pan for eggs.
Bokuto’s put on the shirt Akaashi gave him, and Akaashi’s thankful because at least now he wont be as distracted.
There’s a part of Akaashi that considered letting Bokuto leave, but he didn’t have the will to voice that part of him. And a bigger part, a much bigger part, was desperate for him to stay. Bokuto has always been his best friend, he’s always been there when things have happened that Akaashi doesn’t know how to deal with. He was there for every hook up, picking him up after, taking him out for ice cream and watching movies when men didn’t message back. He was there for every time Akaashi’s heart felt like it was suddenly powered by jet fuel, when he didn’t know how to be safe in his own skin. Bokuto was there, so how was he supposed to not be here now? How was Akaashi supposed to not want Bokuto’s help even when this time, it’s him that’s the tangled mess in Akaashi’s chest.
“Yeah, we’ve both been pretty busy.” Akaashi says and opens the fridge door.
Bokuto leans on the counter, arms folded over his chest, and Akaashi can tell he’s nervous as well, the weight of their actions resting heavy on both their shoulders.
Bokuto serves their coffee, while Akaashi cooks, and places Akaashi’s on the counter next to him, taking sips as they stand around in silence.
Eventually Bokuto starts rambling about his last game that Akaashi missed. It’s a story Akaashi has already heard, but Bokuto knows he doesn’t mind hearing it again, which is true. He tells him about Atsumu’s serving technique and how it’s improved to be a really powerful attack. About his setting and how it’s different from Akaashi’s but he’s gotten used to it. Hinata has apparently developed a new type of receiving, based on how Nishinoya used to receive in high school. And it goes on and on as Akaashi serves them their eggs and toast, and when he sits up on his counter across the kitchen from Bokuto. All while Akaashi’s thoughts swirl in a whirlpool of images, of feelings, and he tries desperately to focus on Bokuto’s words.
“Keiji,” Bokuto says and he’s waving a hand in front of Akaashi’s face. Akaashi blinks and leans back a bit, eyes focusing on Bokuto again.
“I lost you there,” Bokuto says and Akaashi looks away.
“Sorry, zoned out. What were you saying?” Akaashi asks as Bokuto steps back.
Akaashi hops down from the counter and puts his and Bokuto’s plates in the sink. He thinks about washing them now but decides against it wanting to listen to Bokuto. Even if he can’t talk to Bokuto, just hearing his voice is enough to calm his nerves.
“Nothing, just Hinata’s new serve,” he says and leans back against the counter. “Um, Akaashi—”
“Bokuto-san, why do you switch between my first and last name?” Akaashi spits out. He doesn’t want Bokuto to continue his thought, too scared he’ll bring up their sex.
“Oh—” Bokuto stumbles. “Um, I guess cause I like both your names,” He says and Akaashi holds tighter to the sink edge. “I think they’re both pretty, and I can’t ever decide which to use so I go back and forth,” Bokuto finishes and Akaashi turns his head looking up at Bokuto, his brows knitted up on his forehead at Bokuto’s words. “Keiji,” Bokuto says and Akaashi’s heart drops. He knows it’s coming, it has to. “Can we… talk about last night?” Bokuto says and his face tightens with his plea, gulping down his nervousness and Akaashi’s body stiffens as well.
“Mm.” is all he can manage.
The images start floating through his head, and he glances down to Bokuto’s lips, unmoving and waiting for Akaashi to say something more.
He tries to remember them, because he’ll never get to feel them again, not after this, not after Bokuto says this has ruined them. He tries and tries to remember them, but suddenly he can’t, the images of Bokuto are all only above or below him, but never pressed into him. And Akaashi realizes they never actually kissed.
“I don’t really know how to start,” Bokuto says finally and Akaashi looks away, back to the dishes.
“It happened.” Akaashi says and Bokuto nods.
“Are you okay, first of all?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi whips his head around looking up at Bokuto. His eyes are worried, leaning in.
“Yes. Yes I’m okay with it.” Akaashi says.
“You were drunk so…”
“I don’t care, it’s happened before and I never really regret it.” Akaashi continues. His words are so stiff in his throat, getting caught on his racing heart as they surface.
“Okay, I’m glad about that.” Bokuto says.
He’s so gentle, like he’d break Akaashi if he just came out and said it, if he spoke too loud to him. Like Akaashi might break down in tears at any minute.
“Bokuto-san… did you not… was it not… good, for you?” Akaashi asks and he thinks Bokuto might be right, that he just might start crying, as his hands tremble, knuckles still white against the counter.
“No— I mean it was, it was amazing, I loved it, I love you— there.” Bokuto blurts out almost choking on his words and Akaashi’s chest rattles.
“I hated it but I love it.” Bokuto says this time and he sighs. He puts his fingers to the bridge of his nose.
“Bokuto-san if this…ruins us just tell me.” Akaashi says and looks over, he meets Bokuto’s eyes, steeling himself for Bokuto’s answer.
“Akaashi—Keiji I— this doesn’t ruin us. I’ve been waiting years to do what we did last night. I only hated it because we weren’t alone.”
Akaashi feels a cross between wanting to throw up from nervousness and wanting to cry and wanting to throw himself at Bokuto. But he can’t decide what to do so he doesn’t do any of them. He just stands there eyes wide, face shifting from confusion to awe to relief, practically all the stages of grief.
“Then why didn’t you kiss me last night?” Akaashi asks.
“Because I’m still saving that, I won’t do that until you’re sober and ask me. I want that to be ours.” And Akaashi can see Bokuto’s eyes descend into anger. “The way they looked at you last night. How they used you. Like they owned you.” Bokuto growls. But gently he still brings a hand to Akaashi’s face, and slowly tucks a curl behind Akaashi’s ear. Akaashi’s heart throbs at the feeling, Bokuto’s fingers warm, brushing to his skin. “I hate to admit, that was the first time I’ve ever wanted to physically hurt someone.” He says.
Bokuto falls quiet Akaashi soaking up his words and he tries to sort them in order. Wondering how he’s been so dense this entire time.
“I never even got to confess.” Akaashi whispers and finally he relaxes his hands. His breath leaves his chest and he looks up at Bokuto, whose eyes shift.
“So do it.” Bokuto says and lips curling into a small smile.
“Eh?” he looks at Bokuto like he just said something incomprehensible.
“I’d… like to hear your confession. If I can,” Bokuto says and Akaashi’s eyes grow wide again. He blinks rapidly trying to think of what to say. His chest feels hot again, and this time his cheeks flush a brilliant pink at Bokuto’s words.
Bokuto leans in a bit, and Akaashi takes a step back, looking away. He holds his breath as Bokuto continues to crowd him into the counter behind him, putting both hands onto it, closing Akaashi in. Akaashi tries to find the words, taking a deep breath.
He presses his hand to Bokuto’s chest and Bokuto looks down at it, and Akaashi swears he feels him take a shaky breath.
Bokuto waits, eyes boring into Akaashi like he’s about to tell him the future. He bites into his lips, still unable to let any words fall through, but he leans out trying to. Bokuto lets out a laugh and a smile.
“You must really like me if you’re this nervous, even after we just had sex,” Bokuto says and Akaashi ducks his head, his cheeks flaring like the sun.
He feels Bokuto lean forward, and gently feels him kiss the crown of his head, his lips firmly trying to beg him to speak. And Akaashi’s heart races, held tight by his own hand as if he’s impaling himself. His lips pull off and finally Akaashi nods. He looks up and pulls on Bokuto’s shirt.
“Bokuto-san,” His voice cracks and he feels like he’s about to cry.
“I’ve been in love with you since we were 15, and I’ve never been able to tell you, and I tried to make it all go away, by screwing other guys, and drinking, but every time you came around, every time, I— it just— got worse, I don’t know what to do with myself and after last night, I don’t think I could ever love you more than I do right now.”
The words spill from his mouth like a thrown bucket of paint, coloring Bokuto with his feelings. Bokuto’s cheeks brighten as he smiles, burning red. Akaashi tries to breathe around his words, his chest collapsing inside him.
Bokuto pulls him in, wrapping his arms around him and buries his face into Akaashi’s shoulder, hugging him. Akaashi is squished into him, palms to Bokuto’s chest, and he can feel his heartbeat like a drum behind the bone.
“It was the moment you walked in the gym for me,” Bokuto says and Akaashi sucks in a breath. “Once I saw you, I knew I’d never be the same again.”
Akaashi lowers his head to Bokuto’s shoulder, relaxing into his embrace and feels his cheeks flush, spreading all the way to his ears.
“We must be pretty stupid if it took us this long.” Bokuto says and Akaashi laughs. He nods and Bokuto pulls back.
He cups Akaashi’s cheeks and Akaashi smiles, focusing on the warmth of Bokuto’s hand.
“I really wanna kiss you now.” Bokuto says. “I almost did last night, I wanted to so badly.”
“You can kiss me now.” Akaashi says almost as a question.
“Can I?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi sees his eyes flicker to his lips and back. Akaashi nods.
Bokuto hesitates as he moves closer, then leans all the way into Akaashi pressing him to the counter. He cups his face, and Akaashi gulps, holding his breath. He closes his eyes and then Bokuto is there, holding him still against his lips, and Akaashi lets a soft whine bubble up. And what starts chaste and unmoving then bleeds into something more.
Akaashi takes in a breath, and in doing so parts his lips, slipping Bokuto’s mouth closer to his, and Bokuto’s grip on his head tightens, his body pushing more against Akaashi. He hears him gasp. Bokuto moves his lips, pulling the very air from his lung with every pull of his kiss, and Akaashi melts. His hands slide down Bokuto’s chest until he’s pulling his waist, begging to be closer, and the heat rises in him, filling him to the brim.
“Keiji—” Bokuto mumbles against Akaashi’s lips and Akaashi hums and lets Bokuto guide his head, tilting it to press kisses to his cheek.
“I’m—" he waits, “In love with you.” And he runs his thumb across the apple of his cheek, tilting Akaashi’s head all the way back and he presses again a kiss into the plush skin of his cheek. “Please...forgive me for not telling you.” He says and Akaashi smiles nodding. He opens his eyes to the golden heaven of Bokuto’s, the soft gaze pulling Akaashi forward again.
He presses up and kisses Bokuto, needy now, to be as close as he can to this man. He weaves his arms between Bokuto’s, reaching to wrap himself around Bokuto, holding him down by the neck until he’s bowing into Akaashi. But Bokuto holds him up, hands cradling his waist, fingers kneading into the soft muscle of his back.
Akaashi pulls at Bokuto’s shirt, kissing him until he feels the burn in his lips. And Bokuto kisses him fervently back, arm wrapping around his waist and pulling him up onto his toes.
Bokuto bites into Akaashi’s lip, forcing a gasp out of him and taking the moment to slip his tongue into Akaashi’s mouth.
“Mmh.” Akaashi moans slightly at the pressure, the taste of coffee still bitter sweet on Bokuto’s tongue.
He adjusts and readjust his arms on Bokuto’s shoulders, trying to pull closer until finally, Bokuto puts a hand on Akaashi’s ass and hikes him up onto the counter, pressing in between his legs. He runs his hands over Akaashi’s thighs, squeezing at his hips. Akaashi tilts his head back, breaking the kiss, and Bokuto continues at his throat, pressing plush lips to Akaashi’s adam’s apple, firmly and tenderly holding down on his pulse. He mouths his way up the length of Akaashi’s throat, pulling soft mewls out of Akaashi’s mouth. And Akaashi holds firmly to Bokuto, unable to fully feel close enough, like he’s trying to make up for lost time, for lost touches, lost kisses, by pulling him as tightly as he can.
“I want a do over.” Akaashi whispers, words breathy in his chest. “Of last night.” He finishes. Bokuto’s grip just tightens, and he feels him nod.
Bokuto pulls back and hooks his hands behind Akaashi’s knees, jerking him closer until his chest is flush against Bokuto’s. And with an arm around his waist and a hand under his ass Bokuto picks Akaashi up against him, carrying him out of the kitchen.
Bokuto carries Akaashi through the hallway back into his bedroom, and in the still dim lights of the late morning, lays him down on his bed. For a moment they both pause, catching their breaths, looking at each other. Akaashi fingers the back neck of Bokuto’s shirt, pulling on the hem.
“Take it off for me?” He whispers and Bokuto blinks, licking his lips before nodding.
He stands, and Akaashi sits up on his elbows watching as Bokuto strips the shirt off, re-exposing the soft pale skin, stained with bite marks. And Akaashi thinks, if he could see this every day from now on, he’d be happy, he’d never get tired of it.
He reaches out for Bokuto again, sliding his hands up the back of his neck as he pulls him down into a kiss again.
Bokuto’s hand caresses his sides, pushing up the edge of his shirt, and Akaashi arches into the touch, lifting himself off the bed. He nods, knowing what Bokuto is wordlessly asking.
He sits up again, straddling Akaashi, and pulls up on the shirt until it’s off and he drops it off the edge of the bed. And for a moment Bokuto looks down at him, markings red and blotchy on his skin, marked by the lips of others.
He runs his hand over them.
“You can replace them once they fade,” he says and Bokuto nods.
“I’m sure I will, but these don’t bother me.” And Akaashi looks at him questioningly, certain they would have. He leans down again, looming over Akaashi with his lips brushing over the bend of his neck. He tilts his head back and feels the heat of his breath, pushing on his skin. “Last night, I couldn’t kiss your lips, so I made sure to kiss every other part,” Bokuto says, and presses his lips into the spotted skin. “I wanted to leave no room for them to kiss you. Because if anyone was going to mark you, it was going to be me.”
Akaashi’s breath hitches, the sting of Bokuto’s teeth biting into him. He squeezes his thighs together. They move closer to the head of the bed and Bokuto lowers himself down on Akaashi.
He sighs, into the warmth of Bokuto’s tongue swiping along the curve of his jaw, pressing gentle kisses to the underside of his chin, pushing his head back further. With each touch, and kiss, Akaashi feels himself getting harder, starting to roll his hips to find friction on Bokuto’s torso. Bokuto grinds down, rubbing up against Akaashi, pulling moans out of him with each moment of pressure.
As he kisses along Akaashi’s throat, he starts to dip down to his chest, mouthing a trail down his stomach, along the hair leading into his underwear. But when he starts to pull Akaashi’s briefs down he stops him. Bokuto looks up at him, eyes suddenly worried. Akaashi shakes his head.
“You did that last night,” Akaashi says and lifts himself off the bed sitting up to get closer to Bokuto’s lips. He kisses him, moaning into his mouth as Bokuto palms at his erection.
“And?” Bokuto questions.
“I wanna suck you off this time,” Akaashi whispers, and as he pulls Bokuto back with him he switches them, pushing Bokuto onto his back, and swinging his leg around to straddle him. Bokuto looks up at him, hands holding to his hips, eyes wide.
“Woah,” He breathes and Akaashi smiles, he shakes his hip, grinding lightly on Bokuto’s cock and Bokuto lets out a moan, eyes fluttering.
But just as Bokuto starts to pull Akaashi's hips down, Akaashi lifts off of him. Bokuto looks at him pleadingly as he watches Akaashi slide down from the bed and settle on his knees. He pats the space between Bokuto’s legs, calling him forward.
Bokuto slides forward, sitting on the edge of the bed and Akaashi looks up at him. He runs his hands up Bokuto’s thighs, leaning forward, stretching up until his lips are just barely brushing Bokuto’s and he smirks. He squeezes Bokuto’s thighs and Bokuto bites his lips waiting.
“Didn’t know you could be such a tease when you’re sober,” Bokuto whispers and Akaashi smiles even more. He presses a chaste kiss to Bokuto before lowering himself.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Koutarou,” Akaashi says, and he feels it in his chest, the heaviness of Bokuto’s name. He hears Bokuto gasp and he tries to lean forward, reaching for Akaashi’s head. He lifts Akaashi’s gaze to meet his eyes and tries to press forward into a kiss but Akaashi stops him with a finger to his lips. Akaashi knows he’s being mean.
“Not yet. You can kiss me once I’m done blowing you.” Akaashi says and Bokuto’s face tightens up and a small whine escapes him.
“Akaaashi,” He mumbles against his finger and Akaashi smiles. He pushes on Bokuto’s lips with his finger, leaning him back to sit and watch.
Akaashi leans forward and leans his arms on Bokuto’s legs for support. He slowly reveals Bokuto’s cock, pulling on the band of his briefs, already with a growing wet spot in the crotch. Akaashi hadn’t gotten a good look at Bokuto’s cock the night before, but now he can see how fully wonderful it is, the head pink and leaking and Akaashi reaches for the soft skin. He runs his fingers along the shaft and looks up at Bokuto whose cheeks have flushed just as brightly, the back of his hand pressed to his mouth, hiding a moan.
“Pretty,” Akaashi whispers and he feels it twitch.
Akaashi always expected Bokuto to be big, but he never knew his imagination could actually be accurate.
He takes Bokuto’s cock in hand and rubs a thumb over the tip, spreading the precum, but when it’s not enough he gathers spit in his mouth and spits out onto the tip. He hears Bokuto gasp and he looks up as he strokes. The blush has spread to his chest.
“You get worked up quickly,” Akaashi comments and Bokuto nods, and then groans.
After working him to his full length Akaashi leans into Bokuto’s thighs, pressing forward, and slowly without any more teasing slips his mouth over Bokuto’s cock.
“Fuck,” He curses and Akaashi feels a rush in his chest at the idea that he’s making Bokuto feel good.
Akaashi moves up and down on Bokuto’s cock, sucking until spit is dripping from his chin, the squelching sounds of his mouth making his own cock throb. But he doesn’t touch it, because if there’s one thing he wants more than anything it’s to cum on Bokuto’s cock.
Akaashi uses his hand as an extra sleeve as he sucks, bobbing his head until Bokuto is moaning quietly, reaching his hands into Akaashi’s hair and pulling him further in.
He feels a hand run down the length of his back and brushing under the band of his underwear; it makes Akaashi shiver. Slowly Bokuto pushes Akaashi’s briefs back and Akaashi feels Bokuto lean forward more. The hand disappears before coming back wet on his ass. He kneads his fingers into Akaashi’s ass pulling it, and Akaashi moves forward more, Bokuto’s cock suddenly hitting the back of his throat.
He swallows around it, the taste of his precum drip down his throat. And then his body tenses, shivering at the cold wet finger Bokuto suddenly slips into his hole. Akaashi moans on Bokuto’s cock and he feels Bokuto pause groaning and dropping his head forward a bit.
“Fuck Keiji,” He whispers then continues curling his finger.
He’s still loose from the night before, so Bokuto slips in a second only a moment later, scissoring to spread him open. Akaashi pulls off his cock with a slick pop and sucks in a deep breath. Bokuto’s fingers are bigger than the ones that prepared him last night, and they’re already so deep in him he can feel his thighs tremble. Then a third and Akaashi releases a guttural moan, bowing his head to Bokuto’s inner thigh, he bites into the skin and Bokuto whines.
Akaashi starts up a stroke again, his spit dripping from Bokuto’s cock, squelching under his fingers. And just when Akaashi is about to put it back in his mouth, Bokuto does something he’s never felt before.
He slips his thumb in with his three fingers and spreads them, and the stretch is so sharp Akaashi cries out; Bokuto releases letting Akaashi’s hole relax.
“Koutarou,” Akaashi whines and Bokuto slips his three fingers down to the knuckle again. He curls them in and Akaashi twitches around them.
“One more time,” Bokuto says and Akaashi tries to relax when he feels his thumb enter him, and sucks in a trembling breath when he feels Bokuto spread him. He’s gaping, the stretch sending shock-waves up his hips and he drops his head from between Bokuto’s legs, fingers digging into his thigh to keep him from falling. He can hear Bokuto breathing, slightly heavy as he stretches just a little more and Akaashi whines, but he pushes back on Bokuto’s fingers, wanting him deeper at the same time.
“Good job,” Bokuto whispers and Akaashi moans at the praise. His muscles tense; Bokuto pulls his fingers out, and Akaashi gasps at the emptiness inside him.
Bokuto leans back and lifts Akaashi’s head to look at him, palm under his chin, cupping his face. Akaashi’s face is still wet with drool and Bokuto uses his thumb to wipe the corner of his mouth. He leans down, finally pulling Akaashi up for a kiss, pressing into him. And the longer the kiss lasts the more desperate Akaashi feels to be closer.
He shuffles his knees under him, pushing on Bokuto’s thighs to stand, taking his lips with him as they move back on the bed. Akaashi crawls over him, palms pressing deep in the mattress as he sinks closer to Bokuto, mouthing at his lips. Bokuto’s chest heaves with hot breaths.
When they’ve reached the top, Bokuto resting in the pillows, he reaches a hand down to push Akaashi’s underwear off, and Akaashi pulls off his lips to help. They drop them off the bed and Akaashi sits down on Bokuto’s lap.
Bokuto runs his hand up Akaashi’s thigh, gently brushing the bite marks still lingering there and he leans to look at Akaashi’s ass.
“What?” Akaashi asks and looks at his own ass, wondering if there’s something there he’s looking at.
“Nothing. I just like your ass,” He says. Akaashi’s cheeks flush running up to his ears and burns. He looks to the side and huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes.
“I always have,” Bokuto continues, and runs his hands up to Akaashi’s waist, sitting up to wrap his arms around him, his hands running up along his spine. He pulls Akaashi closer, pressing his lips to the center of Akaashi’s chest.
“Bokuto-san, please put it in,” Akaashi whines and Bokuto looks up brows forward.
“What happened to my first name?” he asks and Akaashi blinks, smiling. He cups Bokuto’s cheeks and presses down into him, lips smothering his small frown.
“Please, Koutarou, I need you inside me.” He moans and Bokuto groans again and his hands rake down Akaashi’s back, nails digging into skin. Bokuto nods before pressing in again, taking all the breath out of Akaashi’s lungs with how tightly he squeezes him.
“Lay on your back.” Bokuto orders and Akaashi nods, letting Bokuto push him over into the mattress and climb between his legs. Akaashi adjusts his hips, spreading his legs as Bokuto comes closer, lifting one of Akaashi’s legs to his shoulder. Akaashi’s cock twitches, still untouched. Akaashi reaches for the lube and hands it to Bokuto who pours a liberal amount to his hand and warms it up.
Bokuto positions himself in front of Akaashi’s hole, brushing the tip to Akaashi, slicking up his hole, and slowly he pushes himself inside. Akaashi grips his hands into the sheets, pulling up at them to ground him as Bokuto stretches him open.
“Ah—” and Bokuto stops, waiting for him to adjust. Akaashi tries to control his breathing, taking in deep breaths his heart so heavy in his chest it might as well be holding him down to the mattress.
Bokuto looks to him for permission and Akaashi nods, biting into his lip and knitting his brows together. Bokuto slowly pushes more head down, watching as Akaashi swallows him up. Akaashi throws his head back into the pillows and closes his eyes, it feels so full in him, already brushing up against his prostate and sending sparks through his body. Finally Akaashi feels Bokuto’s hips to his ass, and he moans, feeling the full length of Bokuto’s cock against his walls, filling him up so well.
Bokuto pauses and Akaashi tries to relax around him, sighing into the feeling as his muscles still. He balls up his fists in the sheets, and shifts his hips. His eyes flutter, and the warmth in his stomach catapults.
“Move.” he whines and Bokuto grips tighter to Akaashi’s leg, starting to roll his hips against him, pulling out in small shallow bits before pushing back in. With each thrust Akaashi becomes more relaxed, Bokuto’s cock easily slipping in and out of him now and all he can feel is the friction inside, the pressure in him that drives him crazy.
“Fuck.” Akaashi curses and Bokuto grunts, snapping his hips a little hard and Akaashi’s jaw drops, the rush of heat like a fire ripping through him. “You feel so good, Kou,” Akaashi babbles as Bokuto’s thrusts get faster. His own cock leaks against his stomach, and Akaashi reaches down for it, starting to stroke himself.
Bokuto uses Akaashi’s leg for leverage as he thrusts into him, each one getting stronger.
Akaashi reaches out, and Bokuto drops his leg, leaning down to press into him, smothering a moan with his kiss. Akaashi arches his back, the feeling of Bokuto bottoming out into him each time overwhelming, but simultaneously not enough. He rakes his hands over Bokuto’s back trying to pull him in deeper, each snap sending him closer to the edge, but it’s not enough, it’s too soft.
“Fuck, turn me over—” Akaashi gasps.
“I need you deeper,” He says and Bokuto moans, dropping his head to Akaashi’s shoulder thrusting a few more times before pulling out, and Akaashi gasps at the feeling.
Bokuto lifts off him as Akaashi turns over onto his stomach, bracing himself on his elbows as Bokuto shifts over him, legs on either side of his hips and spreads his cheeks, slipping back in. Akaashi clams up, his muscles tensing around Bokuto, and when he’s all the way in, Akaashi almost collapses, sighing into the warmth and fullness.
Bokuto braces his hands next to Akaashi’s shoulder and starts a steady roll that picks up speed quickly. Akaashi can feel Bokuto’s cock throb inside him, and he lets out a small whine with each thrust, his hips being pounded into the mattress.
He buries his head into the pillow, biting into it to muffle the deep moans from his throat. He can’t keep them in, he can feel Bokuto in his gut, with each thrust his body shaking like he’s being broken down. And he loves it.
“Fuck!” Akaashi groans and Bokuto snaps his hips hard, holding himself into Akaashi, pushing as deep as he can. Akaashi slaps an arm to the headboard in front of him and cries out, his eyes widening at the shaking heat in his bones.
“Fuck— harder Koutarou,” he ask and Bokuto repeats the action, thrusting in the tight angle, just brushing Akaashi’s prostate. “Harder,” He begs again and Bokuto moans in his ear, his breath heavy and hot on Akaashi’s neck.
“Any harder and I’ll break you,” Bokuto gasps, returning to his heavy fast thrusts and Akaashi just nods, biting into his lip.
“So break me.”
Akaashi sees Bokuto’s hands ball into fists at his sides, arms quivering.
“Fucking hell,” Bokuto whispers and Akaashi feels Bokuto’s cock throb and he moans at the feeling rutting his own ass up. “Okay—” Bokuto says and sits up.
He forces an arm under Akaashi wrapping it around his chest and pulls him up to his knees, back pressed to Bokuto’s chest.
“Move forward, lean on the headboard,” Bokuto orders, his voice low and rough and Akaashi nods his head, tilted back on Bokuto’s shoulder. He shuffles forward until he’s pressing his front to the cold wood of the headboard. Bokuto uses his knee to spread Akaashi’s legs more, opening him up. “Elbows back,” He says and Akaashi does as he’s told, sticking his elbows out behind him and Bokuto loops his one arm through them, holding onto one arm with his hand. Akaashi’s cheek presses into the back wall cock pressed between his stomach and smooth wood and he swallows his breath. "You okay?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi bites his lip, nodding.
“Mhm.” he hums lightly, and he gasps when Bokuto presses his cock in, it goes deeper than before.
“Fuck!” Akaashi whispers, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Bokuto shake his head, a smile creeping up his lips.
“You asked for it.” He says and Akaashi’s thighs twitch.
Bokuto wraps a hand around to Akaashi’s abdomen, pressing down on his stomach just above his cock and Akaashi shutters, arms quaking at the touch.
Bokuto starts moving slowly again, and this time his cock rams directly into his prostate, and Akaashi melts. He can feel precum dribble from his cock, and Akaashi’s legs almost give out at the heat inside him, the air in his lungs so thin.
Bokuto quickly picks up speed again, and pounds into him, each thrust making the headboard slap against the wall. Tears perk at the corners of Akaashi’s eyes as he whines and Bokuto squeezes him against the wall, pressing harder to his stomach. He can feel him from both ends, the pressure inside bursting like he’s about to explode. Akaashi’s on the verge of screaming, body wrapped in a full burning flush and muscles just barely holding him up. He drops his head and Bokuto lets go of his arms, reaching up to hold a hand over his eyes, pulling his head back further.
He fucks into him until Akaashi can feel his hips bruising from hitting the headboard, and Bokuto’s hips slap against his ass, stuffing him so deep. His voice cracks when he moans and Bokuto’s hand presses hard. Tears stream down his cheeks and Akaashi whines at the feeling.
“Fuck— i’m gonna come,” he cries and Bokuto thrusts harder, his cock beating into Akaashi, just like Akaashi asked, breaking him.
Akaashi feels his cock stiffen, the heat in his stomach powering through him into the tip until his hips shudder, his thighs seizing up as he bucks back on Bokuto’s cock. His come hits the wood and splatters against his stomach and Bokuto’s hand, hot and sticky as he shakes. Bokuto holds him up as he keeps thrusting and Akaashi looks into the darkness of Bokuto’s fingers, tears still streaming from the corners of his eyes. Even as he comes down from his release Akaashi doesn’t want Bokuto to stop, and he limply runs a hand along Bokuto’s forearm, feeling the muscles flex, the veins popping as he strains against Akaashi.
Bokuto lets go of Akaashi’s eyes and takes his hand pressing it to the wall and leaning forward more, threading their fingers together, Bokuto’s palm digging into the back of his hand. He grips hard to Akaashi’s waist now as his hips become erratic, stuttering more with each thrust until—
Akaashi clenches around Bokuto and he feels the heat spread so deep inside him it radiates through his stomach. Bokuto’s nails dig into Akaashi’s hip, hand shaking as he fills his hole with come.
“Holy shit.” Bokuto sighs and he drops his head to Akaashi’s shoulder, his grip and limbs relaxing.
Akaashi looks down at his cock, at the come spread over his stomach and on the wood of the headboard, how some of it’s dripped down onto the pillows. He’ll have to do more washing later, but for now he just gasps, trying to catch his breath as he leans his head to the wall, feeling the cool press of the outside world on his skin. His hair is sticking to his forehead, a bead of sweat dripping down his back. Akaashi lifts a hand to Bokuto, his head still on his shoulder, and runs his fingers through his hair, and the other hums at the touch.
Akaashi feels heavy with his euphoria, his bones aching and skin still hot to the touch. Akaashi angles his head to press a kiss to the side of Bokuto’s head, and when he does Bokuto looks at him. His brow is threaded with a crease, Akaashi wants to smooth out with his finger, and his eyes are soft, lidded and heavy with his own pleasure.
Bokuto lifts his hand off Akaashi’s hip, cupping the curve of his jaw and tilting his head, pressing forward into a kiss. They both sigh into the kiss, chests heaving and Akaashi whines when he feels Bokuto shift, starting to pull out. Slowly he slips out of Akaashi, and Akaashi clenches, trying to keep all of Bokuto’s warmth inside him. He shivers at the feeling as the feeling of emptiness invades him, and he whines again into Bokuto’s mouth.
Bokuto smiles against Akaashi’s lips, and he pulls gently for him to turn, kissing him deeper. Once Bokuto’s out of him, Akaashi collapses back and Bokuto wraps around him to keep him from falling. Their lips break apart and Akaashi laughs, his smile wide on his lips. Bokuto holds him up, sitting back and leaning Akaashi on his chest.
“Shit. That was good,” Bokuto says and Akaashi giggles again.
“Mmhm,” he hums and Bokuto presses a kiss to his cheek. He rubs a hand across Akaashi’s chest and Akaashi closes his eyes, focusing on the touch.
He could fall asleep there, in Bokuto’s arms, he could live forever in that embrace. But Bokuto doesn't let him, at least not now.
“You’re a mess,” He says and Akaashi giggles.
“And that is whose fault exactly?” Akaashi asks and he feels Bokuto smile against his temple, lips pressed into him.
“Mine.” Bokuto admits and Akaashi hum, nodding his head.
“We have to clean you up,” Bokuto says and starts to push Akaashi up, but Akaashi complains, reaching his hand around to grab onto Bokuto’s legs, keeping himself pressed.
“Keiji… we need to shower,” Bokuto says and Akaashi shakes his head.
“I don’t want to move,” Akaashi says and Bokuto laughs and presses another kiss to his temple.
“My ass hurts,” Akaashi adds and Bokuto laughs even louder.
“I’ll repeat. You asked for it.” and Bokuto squeezes him closer.
“Come on, you won't have to move,” He whispers and Akaashi waits to listen but Bokuto doesn’t speak again.
He peels away from Akaashi and stands, leaving Akaashi laying on the bed looking up at him. Bokuto reaches for Akaashi’s legs and pulls them around and, quickly, he positions him on the edge of the bed. Akaashi complains and whines and Bokuto laughs until finally he bends.
Akaashi yelps and sucks in a harsh breath as Bokuto picks him up and tosses him over his shoulder.
“There we go,” He says and Akaashi pushes up on his chest to look at Bokuto in disbelief who starts to carry him towards the bathroom.
“Bokuto-san this is unreasonable,” He says and pushes on Bokuto to try and get him to set him down but Bokuto just shakes his head.
“You said you didn’t want to move, so.” And Akaashi groans as Bokuto laughs again.
“You’re getting cum on your shoulder now,” Akaashi says and he feels Bokuto shrugs.
“Worth it.”
Akaashi rolls his eyes.
Bokuto sets Akaashi down on the bathmat in front of the shower, and smiles brightly, teeth showing, eyes crinkled as Akaashi glares up at him. He rolls his eyes again, sighing.
Akaashi turns to twist on the water and he feels Bokuto’s hand on his hip.
“Keiji…” Bokuto says softly.
“Yes?” and he turns to look at him but stops short when he realizes how close Bokuto is leaning now. Akaashi’s cheeks flare up again with warmth. “Yes, Koutarou?” he asks again and Bokuto looks at him earnestly, eyes focused and trained on him. He bites his lips like he’s chewing on a question.
“Do you want to date me?” He asks finally and Akaashi’s brow slowly creeps up, eyes widening. He smiles, huffing a small laugh.
“I think you know the answer to that, Koutarou,” Akaashi says and shrinks away a little. Bokuto shakes his head.
“I wanna hear you say it,” He says and Akaashi blinks, his face heating up even more. He looks away then back again but his smile doesn’t fade, too taken with how precious Bokuto is.
“Yes, Koutarou, I would love to date you,” he whispers and with those words Bokuto pulls him closer, burying him in a kiss that heats him to his very core.