SUMMARY: At the beginning of each summer, when school finally let up, they would all meet up in a beach house at Hamamatsu for a week. It didn’t matter if you had a bad year. It didn’t matter what side of the country you were on. All that mattered was that the five of them promised to find their way back to each other, even if it was only for a while.
Akaashi looked forward to it every year.
Except this year, he dreaded it. And it was all because of you.
WARNINGS: suggestive themes (fwb to lovers) but nothing explicit.
“Keiji,” you murmured sleepily against his bare shoulder, the place where you’d been pressing kisses all morning.
“Y/N,” Akaashi tried to say in warning, but all that came out was a sigh, feeling the growth of your smile on his skin.
Akaashi tried to arch away, but he couldn’t move when he felt you pressing more kisses. “Y/N,” he breathed out, trying again, “we have to get ready soon or we’re going to be caught up in traffic.”
And there were other things he needed to do. Like discuss what they’re doing right now and what they will notbe doing once they get to the beach house. He closed his eyes to gather all his strength, before cupping your cheek and gently pushing away. “Okay, come on,” he stressed, “we have to be responsible now.”
You only kissed his thumb in response, but allowed him to push you away slightly. “You always want to be responsible.”
Akaashi finally rose from the bed, ignoring you to put on a shirt. He felt like that was the proper thing to do before having the conversation he wants to have. He shouldn’t be naked, you know? When he turned around, he saw you cuddling his pillow.
“I have to be.” is how he started it. “And speaking of responsible, we should talk about this.”
You bit your lip, holding back a smile, “What about us?”
You bit your lip, holding back a smile, “What about us?”
You bit your lip, holding back a smile, “What about us?”
He pursed his mouth, and annoyingly enough, you copied him too, puckering your mouth like you were asking for a kiss. He glared at you, “Be serious.”
“I am serious,” you rolled your eyes, “you’re the one who can’t even say it.”
Akaashi’s known you far too long to miss the challenge in your tone. “I’m trying to be delicate. But I should have known that it’s better to be direct when it comes to you—”
“It’s only been eight years, Keiji,” you added with a smirk.
“What I’m trying to say is,” Akaashi cleared his throat, “is that considering how annoying our friends are, I think we should stop doing this. They’re going to catch on and then god knows what I’ll have to do when they start teasing us.”
You laughed, “We can be subtle.” your laugh settled into a smile. “We can keep a secret.”
“You are the opposite of subtle.” Akaashi replied, thinking about all the times they sneaked out to go for midnight walks back in high school and how terrible of a liar you were whenever your parents would catch you sneaking back in. He tried to be stern, “We need to stop.”
You groaned, turning your face to bury it into a pillow.
Akaashi focused on being understanding, instead of the other things his brain was filing for further investigation.
(Like the way his bed smelled completely of you. How right that felt. How good you looked in his bed. How much you both avoided this conversation of stopping. Why he didn’t really want to stop—)
His brain settled on what was safe, simple and true: hooking up with each other felt too good. Who would want to stop?
If not for the impending beach house trip, Akaashi wouldn’t think to put a stop to it either; so he let you have your moment, before going to you and sitting beside you on the bed.
“You’re silly,” he said, letting himself give in to impulse and pull you closer. “You like my body that much? I’m thisgood in bed?”
From this close, he can see you roll your eyes. “You wish. As if you could keep your hands to yourself. Why stop when we both know we can’t? Why set ourselves up?”
“It shouldn’t be that hard.” he retorted in response.
And it shouldn’t be. You’ve known each other for eight years, and have gone for almost the same amount without all of… this. Besides, you’re not even dating.
.
.
.
It just happened. At least, when Akaashi tried to think about how he ended up here, that was all he could find. It just happened. There was alcohol involved. Maybe mercury was in retrograde. Post-midterms stress was probably a factor. All in all, the circumstances were vague.
But a couple things were clear:
You, for one. He knew who he was falling into bed with. He wouldn’t be able to miss the familiar colour of your eyes. The feel of your hand, even in the dark.
The lack of regret was another. There was panic, of course, but no part of him had recoiled away in disgust or horror when he woke up wrapped around you tight. Instead, it felt right.
So much so that when you opened your eyes, all Akaashi did was fall back into you, against your mouth.
Both of you wanted it, that became clear when you kept falling into bed together with no discussion whatsoever of when to stop.
Until today— and Akaashi admits it was hardly a proper conversation at all. He meant to continue it in the car, he swears, but it was a long drive from Tokyo to Hamamatsu. And on the off chance that it went south, he didn’t want to be stuck in the car with you for that long. But then you fell asleep, and by the time you had woken up, they had already arrived.
Akaashi had missed his timing, and now, as they rolled in through the paved driveway of the beach house, he could only pray for mercy.
No, not from god. But from the bastards he calls his friends.
They spoke for themselves:
The windows of his car are rolled down, so he can hear them loud and clear.
“There he is!” came the teasing voice of Bokuto, “Akaaashiiiiiiii!”
Beside him, you stuck your head out of the window, “Hey, what about me? Are you guys not excited to see me?”
He saw Kuroo and Kenma immediately school their faces into something bored, “No, not at all.”
You didn’t even wait for Akaashi to put the brakes on. The car was still moving when you took off your seatbelt and stepped out of the car. You marched over with the most debilitating pout, and Kuroo and Kenma only managed to hold out for another second or two, before they both broke out into a grin.
You tackled them into a hug, “I missed you guys!”
You squeezed them hard before letting go and launching yourself at Bokuto. Akaashi didn’t know how it was possible, but Bokuto only seemed to have gotten broader over the past few months they didn’t see each other. He smiled when he saw how small you looked in his arms.
You were always going to be smaller. A constant that Akaashi loved.
He finally got out of the car too and called out, “Y/N, don’t forget to grab your bag!”
But all he got was a wave of your hand, “I’ll grab it later.”
Akaashi grabbed it now, because he already knew how the future was going to unfold. You were going to lie down on the couch, forget, and then somehow needle him into getting it for you. He shuts the trunk of his car and locks it.
As he pocketed his keys though, he immediately made eye contact with Kuroo’s shit-eating grin and already, already, he knew what was coming. “Shut up,” he said preemptively. Even swings his bag to hit Kuroo for good measure.
Kuroo just laughed, grabbing one bag from him, “You know, this is exactly why you get made fun of.”
“Shut up,” Akaashi said again and escaped him by entering the house. He took his shoes off, replacing it with one of the pairs of house slippers by the door.
A cool breeze greeted him at the door. He breathed in and some of the tension, left over from the school year, started leaking out of him.
This house and its familiar bones. Its walls and their constant shades of beige and blue. The summer house welcomed him, and something in him settled.
He was at the beach house with his old friends. All else aside, he felt at peace.
.
.
.
The peace obviously didn’t last long. It was expected, considering how well Akaashi knew his friends and their meddling ways (yes, like some Scooby doo villains).
The moment you stepped out of their sights to use the bathroom, Akaashi immediately got pulled into an impromptu meeting in the kitchen.
“Akaashi Keiji,” Kuroo began, voice low and eyes monitoring the bathroom door, “I see there has been no progress on the sad state of your love life. I knew this would happen. We can’t keep letting this go on. It’s pathetic.”
“Hey,” Akaashi said, insulted, “Who says my love life is sad?”
Bokuto carefully reached out to pat his hand, “Oh, Akaashi. If you were dating someone, we’d know. If you were dating our beloved friend, we would definitely know.”
“It’s getting sad, Akaashi,” Kuroo said, putting his hand on top of Bokuto’s that was still on top of Akaashi’s. Kenma, feeling a little left out, also joined in by setting his hand on top of Kuroo’s. “We’re staging an intervention. You need help.”
Akaashi took his hand out of this weird hand sandwich it ended up in, “I don’t need help.”
Kuroo sniffed, “We’re not doing this for you. We’re doing this for ourselves. I’m tired of having to see you guys act all gross and then say you’re just friends. Just kiss already. It’s sick.”
Kenma added on, “Don’t you get tired of being Y/N’s ‘yes’ man without getting benefits?”
He stopped himself from mindlessly blurting out that he was currently receiving some benefits, which wasn’t that difficult considering the annoyance that rose in him at Kenma’s statement. “Um?” he raised a brow, “What do you mean ‘yes’ man? I am not a yes man. What does that even mean? I say no to her all the time.”
His statement was met with blank stares and raised brows.
“Akaashi, please. We’re all yes men when it comes to her,” Kuroo eventually snorts, looking right through him, “Who do you think can say no to her here?”
Akaashi took a look at his friend’s faces, Kenma’s exasperation, Kuroo’s resignation, and Bokuto’s sheepishness standing out.
“I’m sure there are people in this world who can say no to her,” Kuroo continued, “but not us. And certainly, not you.”
Akaashi’s mouth moved through a handful of words. None of them ever got a voice.
Kuroo smugly leaned back as you came back, oblivious to the smackdown he just delivered.
You patted your drying hands on your shorts and looked straight at Akaashi first, “Keiji, why do you look so stressed?”
Kenma, the only one of them with a mouth that worked as fast his brain, immediately bounded to you with a smirk, “Don’t worry, we just told him he’s cooking dinner tonight.”
You gasped and then started lecturing with a frown, “Stop making him cook every time. We had a long drive from Tokyo. Let him rest.”
Akaashi bit his lip. That was cute. It was really cute of you to say that. But whatever smile that threatened to come up died when Bokuto put his arm around his shoulders. They watched you try to smack Kuroo, but was held back by Kenma’s arm on your waist.
“Aww,” Bokuto whispered to him, “Look at her defending you. That’s good girlfriend material right there. For you. Don’t worry, Akaashi. We are not letting you come out of this vacation single. We’ll be the best wingmen ever. You’ll see.”
Akaashi meant it wholeheartedly when he said, “Bokuto-san. That is the single most terrifying thing you’ve ever told me.”
.
.
.
Akaashi didn’t even have to spend that much time thinking about what exactly Bokuto meant about being wingmen. He doesn’t even make it to dinner before the wingman-ning began.
You had managed to save him from being in charge of dinner, but Akaashi didn’t completely escape it.
Kuroo made a ridiculous show of looking at the fridge and then proceeded to gasp so loud, you jumped in your seat beside Akaashi. “I cannot believe we forgot tomatoes. Somebody needs to go to the store and buy them,” and then pointedly looks at Akaashi.
Akaashi’s brow furrowed as he shrugged, “I mean, sure, I can go get them. There’s still that small shop down the street, right?” He made a move to stand up and grabbed a light jacket, but before he could even leave the vicinity of the living room, Bokuto stopped him, “Woah, woah, woah, you’re going alone?”
God, Akaashi already knew what was coming. At the risk of alerting you, Akaashi played along, “Yeah?”
“Dude, it’s late. It’s dangerous out there,” Bokuto said, putting on his big watery puppy dog eyes and directed it to the person weakest to it; you. “You should go with him.”
This is some weak wingman-ning, Akaashi decides. Hamamatsu is arguably one of the safest cities. Akaashi was more likely to suffer from gifted kid burn out syndrome than getting hurt, walking alone at night.
But you clearly didn’t care that Bokuto just gave the flimsiest rationale on why you should go get tomatoes together. You only threw your head back with a laugh, before standing up with a salute, “Yeah, I’ll make sure our old man gets to and from the grocery all safe.”
As you both walked out, he was absolutely certain he could hear those gremlins giggling, behind their hands. They think they’re so slick. They’re so lucky you were oblivious. Actually, Akaashi’s the one who’s lucky, because if you knew, he would never, ever, be able to live it down.
The moment you’re out on the main road, you casually slipped your arm around his and looked up with a cheeky smile. “This is okay, right?” you asked with an exaggerated shiver. The ocean breeze didn’t even reach here. “I’m just doing this because it’s a bit cold.”
“Yeah,” Akaashi said with a sigh, “It’s fine.”
“It’s not like they can see,” you reasoned, “It’s fine as long as they don’t, because we can just carry on, right?”
“Y/N.” He warned.
“It’s still a secret,” you said, pressing your cheek against his shoulder, “I don’t see why we should stop. It’s nobody’s business but ours. I don’t understand why we have to stop because of what other people might say.”
Akaashi couldn’t exactly say anything because, well… you’re not wrong. It’s just every part of him shudders at the thought of everybody knowing. Especially, their friends knowing. He hasn’t settled on the answer to why exactly that is. But he does mention what he knows you guys have been suffering through together over the years, “It’s just a hassle. You know the jokes our friends already make about us. Think of how much worse it will be when they find out what we’ve been doing.”
You don’t say anything, only making a soft vague noise. He couldn’t tell if it was made in agreement or in protest. With the weight of the day pressing down on him, he dropped the convo and opted to change the topic, “Is it just me or did Bokuto get really big?”
And that set you off, “Right! Not only that, but he’s sturdy. A little thick, you know what I’m saying?”
The phrasing made Akaashi laugh, “Never thought I’d hear that coming from your mouth. Remember back in high school?”
The conversation took them down memory lane and carried them all the way to the grocery store, where they didn’t even bother getting a shopping cart. Akaashi didn’t expect you guys to be there for that long.
They get to the fresh produce section where the refrigerator blasts cold air on the color vegetables. He scans among the greens to find where the tomatoes were, when he accidentally bumps you beside him. “Sorry,” he said, touching the small of your back absentmindedly.
“It’s fine,” you said, shivering. “Let’s hurry. I’m freezing here.”
“Want my jacket?” Akaashi offered, but he’s already taking it off before you could protest.
“It’ll be big on me,” you muttered, but already halfway through putting it on. “This is why I should start going to the gym. I need to get thicker too.”
It is big on you;. it looks like you’re swimming in it, hands hidden by the sleeves. “I thought you wanted to go to get prettier,” Akaash reached over and fixed the collar of his jacket, pinching your nose in the process before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Come on. You can pick which tomato we get to eat tonight.”
“I hate tomatoes!”
“I know.”
.
.
.
When they got back and you settled back on the couch, he was immediately pulled towards the kitchen.
“You need to monitor,” Kenma said as he washed the tomatoes they bought. Bokuto joined in, and Akaashi half-expected Kuroo to join in. He didn’t. His job was clearly to keep you occupied by trashing you at Wii Sports.
“So,” Bokuto started, “Give us an update I see you made a move.”
“What move?” Akaashi sighed. These gremlins have watched too many romcoms, it’s starting to poison their minds.
Kenma looked at him like he was stupid, “The jacket. That’s a classic boyfriend move.”
“Yeah, weren’t you wearing that jacket when you left?” Bokuto added.
Akaashi frowned, fighting the urge to look at where you were still wrapped up in his jacket, “She was cold. Was I supposed to let her freeze?”
Kenma shook his head, “You’re so hopeless. What’s annoying is you’re doing everything right without even trying. Go sit on the couch. Perform some self-reflection.”
Akaashi pouted, even as Bokuto patted him like a stray dog in the park, and stalked all the way to the living room. He walked past the television, and he ended up getting yelled at by you and Kuroo too for blocking their view. It only worsened his mood.
“Akaashi!” Kuroo complained, falling to the floor in defeat, while you cheered, “Suck it, loser.”
Akaashi settled grumpily on the couch and wished dinner would come soon. You burrowed at his side, “Are you hangry?”
He shrugged.You reached over to fiddle with a piece of hair behind his ear and murmured, “You must be.”
You took on Kuroo’s challenge for a rematch and funnily enough, Akaashi missed your presence immediately.
His frown deepened. Maybe he should self-reflect.
.
.
.
He performed zero self-reflection, but he did eat dinner. As always, food solved everything. Well, not everything, but he figured sleep would take care of the rest.
It’s only when he began brushing his teeth that he felt the weight of the day fully hit him. There was the four hour drive. The excitement from reuniting with his friends. And then the stress of having to deal with his friends’ matchmaking schemes.
All he wants to do now is lie down, twist to the side to hear his back crack, and maybe scroll through his phone until he passes out. Just like any other self-respecting young adult under late stage capitalism. No thinking. Just vibes.
It’s his main thought as he brushed his teeth.
He heard a knock on the bathroom door and when he opened it, he saw you standing there in pyjamas, a toothbrush in hand.
“Wait your turn,” he said, the words coming out garbled because of the toothbrush in his mouth.
You only smiled sheepishly, coming into the bathroom and lightly kicking the door closed. Akaashi raises a brow when he hears you lock the door.
In response, you only shrugged, “Can I borrow some toothpaste?”
Akaashi spat in the sink and washed his mouth. He gestured at the sink, “Go ahead then. Did you intentionally forget?”
“I knew at least one of you guys wouldn’t forget. If not you, then Bo would for sure have it. You boy scouts,” you shrug, grabbing the toothpaste and squeezing it out.
Akaashi knew he should leave. That he should stop standing there stupidly, watching you wet your stupid toothbrush. What was he waiting for?
He moves, but all he does is lean against the door, his hands behind him—clutching at the door knob but not turning it. What was he waiting for?
He should say goodbye, but all he said was, “It’s because he had braces too. You would never understand.”
“It’s not my fault I was born with perfect teeth,” you smirked at him through the mirror. Thrill ran through him.
Akaashi ignored it, “Perfect, my ass. I remember when you got all your wisdom teeth taken out. You were crying so much.”
You raised a brow before turning on your electric toothbrush. It buzzes noisily, as if to say, what’s your point? Akaashi shook his head. Unlike Bokuto, he felt like you would never change. There’s a certain softness in your cheeks that’s still there. A certain spark that’s never dimmed despite what life’s thrown your way.
He knew you too well, has known you for so long. A part of him, one that’s fearful and anxious at the future he’s hurtling towards, hopes that whatever happens, this never changes.
He’s too caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice you’ve caught him staring. He’s startled when your mouth curls into something bright. It has him looking away, his hand coming up to rub his neck.
Akaashi heard you hum. It sounded annoyingly pleased.
A hand comes up to cup his cheek, forcing his gaze back.
“Now,” you said, suddenly a breath away, dragging his attention down to your mouth. Voice coming down to a low whisper, you ask, “It’s time to see how serious you really are. You really don’t want to sleep with me tonight?”
Akaashi bit his lip. “We shouldn’t,” he said, in a voice he hoped was firm.
You pouted. A debilitating thing that has his hand curling at your hip to push you away. But he’s not quick enough, because you go to hold his wrist. He tries again, “Y/N, we shouldn’t do—“
His voice cracked when you brushed your nose against his. Embarrassment floods him. He’s seen you through your puberty phase. You shouldn’t have this much of an effect on him.
“Baby, come on,” you whispered, guiding his hand under your shirt. Desire burned through him, especially as he felt the heat of your skin. As warm as he remembered it. As smooth as he remembered it. He’s lost, and you know it.
“Don’t baby me,” he said, cursing up a useless storm. In the end, it didn’t matter. He’s already leaning down to capture your lips with his.
You whimpered against his mouth, which only set him off further. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing you close as he kissed you hard. All thought left his brain. It was just you, you, you,consuming him.
You ended up pressed against the bathroom counter, hands tangled in his hair. When Akaashi nipped at your bottom lip, you tugged at it. He groaned, pulling away.
“Okay,” You panted, leaning back against the counter, “Baby me instead.”
“I baby you enough,” Akaashi rolled his eyes. “Some might say too much.”
You laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, “Forget them. I like it when you take care of me. It’s not overbearing. You don’t do it, because I’m helpless. I don’t see the problem.”
But the more Akaashi thought about it, the more it felt like there was a problem.
“Come here,” You said, dragging him between your legs. Akaashi’s hands came to rest on the bare skin of your thighs, where your sleep shorts have ridden up.
“Y/N,” Akaashi whispered, his hand inching further up. “Are you trying to prove a point?”
You giggled, “Is it working?”
It’s working too well. Akaashi couldn’t find it in himself to mind. Here it was again. The lack of regret. Just desire hitting him over and over again.
Everything about this reminded Akaashi of the first time they ever did this. At this random party, in some stranger’s bathroom. Judgement clouded by alcohol. Lack of judgement intensifying want.
Now, under the soft yellow light of this bathroom, they are in the same position. But this time, he doesn’t have the excuse of alcohol.
He hasn’t had that excuse every time in between since then.
And he hasn’t had the time to think about that. Too distracted by your perfect mouth, perfect hands, perfect body to think about when he started thinking of his best friend like this. It should be wrong. This was you.
You with your moon face and round eyes, wide with innocence.
Something between you has changed, and it’s quite possibly irreversible.
He blinked when he felt a kiss pressed against his forehead. “You look worried. Wanna talk about it—“
A knock interrupted them. You’re already rolling your eyes, “What!”
“What do you mean what?” came an annoyed voice. It was Kuroo. “You’ve been there for ages. Some people want to get ready for bed too.”
“I’m taking a shit!” You yelled back, and Akaashi had to cover his mouth to keep himself from laughing out loud.
He heard a thump against the door. “Fine! You better fucking spray after. I don’t want to brush my teeth in that stench.”
“Yeah, yeah,” You said dismissively.
Akaashi waited until he heard footsteps recede before detangling himself from you. Reality literally knocked on the door and said, is this reason enough?
He wanted to hit his head. He was such a hypocrite. He really should’ve left the moment you stepped into the bathroom.
You pouted hard and tried to reach for him again, “We should go to bed.”
Akaashi was better at avoiding this time. “I agree,” He said, before specifying, “Separately.”
“You’re so lame.”
.
.
.
He woke up the next day, feeling like he didn’t sleep at all. It’s because he didn’t. He slept piss poor the whole night, a punishment he thought he didn’t deserve. Not that he thought refusing to sleep with his best friend should be rewarded, but—you know what he means.
He was so goddamn tired, he couldn’t even speak a single word during breakfast until he finished his first cup of coffee.
And to make matters worse, you looked completely okay. Refreshed even. You came trampling through the backdoor; the sand, the sun, Bokuto and Kenma following behind. The sound of your bright laughter irritated his sleep deprived brain.
“Akaashi, you’re awake!” Bokuto said, bounding up to him.
If it were anyone else, he would have grumpily responded. But it was Bokuto, who even at his most annoying was hard to be mad at. He gave him a small smile, “You guys had fun all by yourselves?”
Kenma, on his way to the bathroom, chimed in, “We tried waking you up, but you were dead to the world.”
Bokuto laughed, “You were lying face up, but your pillow wasn’t under your head. It was over. Y/N thought somebody murdered you in your sleep.”
“I was the only one concerned,” You shook your head, grabbing a pitcher of water from the fridge, “Remember that when you’re choosing which one of us is your favourite.”
Bokuto wasn’t concerned, “Do you remember when we used to pass out at his house after a party and he would somehow wake up out of his blankets, legs in the weirdest positions? I still think we should record him sleeping, just to see something.”
You visibly gulped down water and wiped your mouth, “He just needs to be held down. He sleeps very peacefully when he’s being held.”
Akaashi wished you were joking, but he literally stopped breathing. There’s this brief moment of silence where he’s pretty sure Bokuto was wondering if he heard that right. He’s never been so grateful that two of his friends weren’t in the room. They would never let him live it down.
“Hey,” Bokuto coughed, but his smile was so cheeky Akaashi knew whatever was coming next could not be good, “How do you know this? Have you tried it? Is this first hand experience?”
Akaashi does him better and pretends he has phlegm stuck in his throat. Anything to avoid being part of this conversation. He hacked it up so good, it didn’t feel like pretend anymore. You worriedly came up to him and smacked his back, “Keiji! Drink some water.”
It’s enough to distract everyone.
And then, Kuroo unintentionally did him a solid by walking out wearing the ugliest outfit known to man. (Okay, it’s not that ugly. He just looked like he’s dressed like a middle schooler. Like, come on. A sweater vest and yellow shorts?) By then, everyone’s too concerned about missing out on delivering sick burns.
Akaashi internally cheered. Sometimes, bad bitches (masculine) won.
For now, at least.
Hours later, life tried him again.
Peace never truly lasted. Ws always eventually turned to Ls. He’s been truly put on this earth to suffer.
And of course, the loss was personally hand-delivered by those most beloved to him.
After a huge lunch, they all had food-induced comas and decided that the best way to recover from this was to spend the rest of their day watching movies. (Actually, Bokuto suggested taking a walk by the beach, but he was immediately vetoed by Kuroo, Kenma, and you—who all claimed they needed to be rolled out of the restaurant and back to the beach house.)
Here was the kicker though: after diagnosing himself with onset food coma, all his defenses were low. He went to the restroom to relieve himself a little, change into sweatpants so he didn’t feel like he couldn’t breathe, and when he came back, he found that all the seats in the living room were taken. Even the floor, where Kuroo was sprawled out like an overheated dog, had no space.
There was really only one spot open, and that was the one right next to you.
With a sinking feeling, Akaashi thought, he’s been bamboozled.
None of the rats he called friends would meet his eyes, but they all looked a shade of smug as he walked on over to his seat of honor for the day. Of course, Akaashi thought. You’d both wound up sitting together on a loveseat.
He willed himself to act natural. He can sit next to his friend, all casual. No big deal. He would not give his friends the reaction they wanted. He cleared his throat, “So what are we watching?”
“I think,” Kenma suggested, “we should watch that new show on Netflix? Alice in Borderland or something.”
Kuroo grunted from the floor, “I don’t want to watch that. Let’s watch Midsommar instead.”
At that, Akaashi protested, “I’ve already seen Midsommar. You’ve seen Midsommar.” Akaashi knew that for a fact, because he was the one who bullied Kuroo into watching it.
“Don’t be selfish,” Kuroo retorted, “Bokuto, Y/N, and Kenma haven’t seen it yet.”
“Ugh,” Kenma groaned, “I’m going to have trouble sleeping tonight if we do. And if that happens, I’ll make it your problem.”
Kuroo rolled to his side, his head propped up by his hand, a stupid grin on his face, “Don’t worry, you can come sleep with me if you get scared tonight, Kenma.”
“You—“ Kenma bit out, and then Akaashi got the glorious privilege of watching him turn red. He felt like he should shake Kuroo’s hand or something. Rarely does anyone get to do that to Kenma, and for Kuroo of all people—well. Akaashi was simply impressed. Just for that, Akaashi was willing to rewatch Midsommar.
Bokuto, as always, came between the two as peacemaker, “Why don’t we just vote?”
“Okay,” Kuroo raised his other hand, “Who wants to watch Midsommar?”
Akaashi raised his hand, and you casually did too, “I don’t care either way.”
Kenma snarled, “Then fucking put your hand down.” Bokuto held his hand, laughing, “It’s okay, Kenma, I’ll cover your eyes for you during the scary scenes.”
Kenma softened, “Fine.”
Kuroo cheered, pulling himself up to fit himself onto the couch beside Kenma who looked at him with wariness. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s a good movie.”
“You just like it when I’m scared,” Kenma grumbled, and then Bokuto cut in again, “Do I have to sit in between you guys?”
You snorted, “Just get it set up, guys,” and even though Kuroo started navigating to the movie on screen, the three of them continued arguing.
Akaashi heard you sigh and lean your head against the couch cushions. If they were back in his dorm, you would have leaned against Akaashi’s shoulder instead. Akaashi was glad that you finally stopped making this hard for him. He glanced towards the tangled mess that was Kenma, Bokuto, and Kuroo and frowned. How come they got to cuddle in peace? Meanwhile, if Akaashi put an arm around you, he would never hear the end of it. What kind of double standard is this? This is so…sexist? Akaashi-phobic? Whatever it is, it sucked. Cuddling can be platonic.
Some sick voice in Akaashi’s head snidely added: kissing and sleeping with someone can be platonic too. But is platonic what you feel when you do all that with your best friend?
Akaashi shook his head and got comfortable instead. He put his head on your shoulder and thought nothing of it. It’s summer; there was no room for complicated things.
“Don’t fall asleep on me,” You said, resting his head gently on Akaashi’s head.
“I won’t,” Akaashi said, though the mention of sleep made him yawn.
You hummed, “You looked pretty tired though, this morning.”
“I was,” Akaashi said and left it at that.
You didn’t say anything for a while, and Akaashi thought that was the end of it too, right as the movie opening sequence launched, You said, “I couldn’t sleep either.”
“Is that why you were so loud this morning?” Akaashi chuckled lowly.
“That was the coffee I drank this morning. I couldn’t even sleep in,” He couldn’t see it, but he could definitely hear the pout in your voice. A tiny part of him rejoiced at hearing it, the one who never got tired of teasing you. And another part of him relaxed at the thought that it wasn’t only him that couldn’t sleep well.
Good thing the movie finally started. “Be quiet,” He finally said, “You have to pay attention, so you don’t end up confused later on.”
“Mean,” You muttered, but did as he said.
There’s something fun about rewatching movies, especially with people who have never seen it before. You catch a lot of things you didn’t notice before, foreshadowing, easter eggs, plot twists. You understand things a lot better the second go around, especially for these psychological horror type movies. Even better, the scares aren’t as scary as they were the first watch.
Of course, for the first time watchers…
It’s quite fun watching their reactions. He could tell Kuroo felt the exact same way by the way he kept glancing over at Kenma’s and Bokuto’s reactions (more Kenma’s really, he’d been watching some scenes with his hands covering his eyes). Meanwhile, you just looked intrigued. Grossed out at worst.
Akaashi rubbed his face against your shoulder. “Hey,” he whispered, “What are you thinking?”
“They’re so nice to her, comforting her, telling her things she wants to hear,” You said, “Everything her boyfriend is not. She’s going to end up killing him at the end, doesn’t he?”
“Hmm,” Akaashi teased, “I don’t know, you’ll just have to wait and see.”
You huffed, “That means I’m right.”
“You’re so impatient,” Akaashi laughed softly.
You sighed, like you were putting down a heavy weight. After a moment, he felt your hand on top of his. Fingers absently playing with his. “I’m more patient than you’ll ever know,” You said quietly, the words almost drowned by the movie.
He didn’t know what to say. Maybe he shouldn’t say anything. Maybe he wasn’t even meant to hear.
The movie neared its end.
On screen, there’s a pire burning. There’s a girl dressed up in flowers, a breathless content smile on her face. “Good for her,” you said, happy to get it right. “What a happy ending,” Akaashi laughed.
Akaashi has seen this all before. Had the same conclusion you uttered. And yet, this time around…he’s filled with this weird sense of dread. Something’s not right.
Everything is cathartic-induced bright. The credits played.
Everybody stretched their arms up to the sky, legs outward. Akaashi stretched too, neck to the right, to the left. Eyes out to the beautiful summer sky. It’s bright. It’s so bright.
He glanced back at you and swallowed the awful feeling.
Just a remnant of the movie.
.
.
.
He’s cornered again. This time, by Kuroo as the two of them washed dishes together.
“So,” Kuroo started, and Akaashi didn’t even hesitate to flick soap suds at him. Kuroo swipes his wet hand against Akaashi’s hair and he shivered in disgust. He immediately covered his head and glared, “How could you—“
“You literally started it!” Kuroo retorted. “Anyway, I saw you and a little someone cuddling on the couch earlier.”
“Oh, shut up,” Akaashi said, rolling his eyes. Bold of Kuroo to say, considering how handsy he was with both Kenma and Bokuto. Akaashi didn’t even bother calling him out. Kuroo was a different breed of shameless. “Don’t make it weird.”
Kuroo raised a brow, “I don’t need to make it weird. You guys make it weird. Like the vibes… you guys are giving off.”
Akaashi frowned, “You’re not making any sense.”
“I’m not explaining it right,” Kuroo said, drying a plate, “I mean, the vibes, right? You guys have always been closer than any of us—no, don’t give me that look. You guys have. I always chalked it up to the repressed feelings you guys have for each other. But this time, it’s different. I just can’t tell if it’s good or bad.”
Akaashi froze. It’s that noticeable? What did weirder than usual mean? Fuck, could he tell they were hooking up?
He forced himself to act cool, shrugging his shoulders, “I literally do not know what you’re talking about, dude.”
“Don’t worry,” Kuroo smirked, “I’ll point it out the next time I see it. I promise I’ll be subtle.”
Spoiler alert: he was not fucking subtle.
Akaashi swore there was absolutely no weird vibes when the group of them were enjoying dessert in the middle of the night. Some ice cream cake they bought to celebrate their reunion. They were laughing about something stupid. Half of them were lounging on their side on the floor, the other half was leaning against the couch. You were the only one left with the fork, taking turns to feed Bokuto, Kuroo, and yourself.
The ice cream-cake enthusiast triangulation.
You usually ate in such small bites. Maybe it was because you were feeding two big-mouthed eaters, but you actually ended up eating such large bites of the cake. Cream on the edges of your mouth while you continued talking and laughing without wiping it away.
Listen, it didn’t mean anything. You looked messy. Akaashi hated messy. Friends helped out friends. Akaashi was also a friend.
He didn’t think much of it, when he reached over and swiped the cream with his thumb. Thought nothing of how it might look when his other hand steadied your chin. “You look like a fool,” He had even laughed as he leaned back, absentmindedly sucking the cream off his thumb.
You look wide-eyed and red-cheeked in his hands.
It wasn’t until Kuroo had taken Bokuto’s chin and loudly exclaimed, “Oh, Bokuto, let me gently wipe your mouth too,” that Akaashi felt extremely self-conscious of his actions. The situation only got worse when Bokuto puckered his lips, which had Kuroo literally laughing on the floor. Kenma, thankfully, only rolled his eyes.
Akaashi couldn’t even look at you after that. He didn’t think it was weird. But now, because of everyone’s eyes, it felt weird.
You ended up standing up and putting the cake away, sounding annoyed, “I think you’ve had enough cake. Go to bed.”
Kuroo made eye contact with him and smirked, as if to say, now, do you see what I mean?
.
.
.
Akaashi wanted to be alone after that. He felt somewhat transparent and unreadable at the exact time. Like everybody was seeing something that he himself couldn’t see inside of him.
Well. That wasn’t completely true. He knew there was something different…he just didn’t want any of their friends to know. He wanted to figure it out himself, before they started doing what they did earlier. It made him feel weird and ashamed. Like what was going on between you two had morphed into something wrong.
Which didn’t even make sense, considering all the stupid pushing his friends were doing to ‘set them up.’
The best thing to clearly do next is to sleep it off. But as he laid in bed, he found that he couldn’t sleep again. He was uncomfortable in this bed, and it didn’t matter how much he twisted and turned, he couldn’t make himself feel right. But he couldn’t stay awake either, not with his head all jumbled up.
He was tempted to suffocate himself when his phone buzzed beside him. He frowned, he was so messed up over this that he didn’t even put his phone on silent.
He sighed and reached over. A text message from you.
Sleep with me tonight, the text said.
Akaashi places his phone face down on his own bed and holds back a scream. This was the last thing he needed tonight. Sense told him that he should stick to his rule. Sneaking into your bed wasn’t a good idea. Maybe if you were sharing a room, he could manage it, but they all got their own rooms. It would be hard to sneak back to his own bed without getting caught. It would be tougher to have to explain if he got caught.
His phone buzzed again and when he looked at the notification, he immediately groaned, rolling in bed so that he could bury his face in his pillow. After taking a moment to compose himself, he opened his phone to the message.
It’s a dark picture of you, blanket pulled up to your chin, pouting at the camera. It came with a simple message— I’m cold.
And then another message, I sleep better with you.
His chest ached. He bit his lip, running a hand through his hair. He shouldn’t do this. But Akaashi was struggling too. Sleep-deprived and confused, all he wanted was to rest. And the last time he slept well was when he was with you.
Akaashi sighed, slowly getting up. He never did figure out how to properly say no to you.
He carefully opened his door and crept out quietly when he saw the hallways were clear. Your room was thankfully close; he reached it with only a couple steps.
He turned the knob and saw you mid-rise. He expected some teasing and a smug smile, but there was only relief on your face.
As he climbed onto your bed, you welcomed him with open arms.
“Thank you,” you whispered against him, pulling him down. Akaashi’s face almost crashed against the headboard. “Easy, easy—”
You both adjusted to each—smooth and natural to them now—until you were comfortable. “Thought you weren’t going to come,” you said, tightening your hold around his waist. “I was going to come to you instead.”
“How are you cold?” Akaashi asked instead. His hand ran through the strands of your hair, “It’s the height of summer.”
“Always am,” You said. “Too used to sleeping with you. You’re always warm and I’m always cold…” you trailed off and into a mumble, “Even back when I slept over at your dorm.”
Akaashi hummed, “Didn’t matter if we had a pillow between us. You’d always find your way over.”
You huffed a little laugh, “You just gotta get used to it at this point. It’s the way we work.”
Akaashi snorted, “The way we work…”
You hummed sleepily, “So perfect…”
His hand paused mid-stroke in your hair. Perfect. It’s not the first time that word’s been said between you, but never like this. Usually it’s panted, thrown heatedly against skin, mid-fuck. Never quite as innocent as this. Resonating bone deep.
He didn’t know what to do with this. This feeling that sits in him, beautiful and aching, until seen by somebody else. He could hold onto this as long as nobody else knows. It’s theirs. Inexplicable, uncomplicated; it’s his.
With that he forced himself to relax. He closed his eyes.
He heard the sound of the waves, crashing against the shore. He could smell the salt in the air. Your breaths evening out, the scent of your shampoo against his nose.
He exhaled, finally letting himself relax against the soft comfort of the pillow under him. It’s the kind of sigh that felt less like giving up but giving in.
To this. To them. To whatever you can both call this.
.
.
.
Akaashi woke up late.
Dangerously late.
The sun woke him up, filtering through the thin curtains of the window. It was the kind of sleep most people yearn for. The type where you feel absolutely well-rested, where you wake up naturally. No alarms. No nothing. It’s beautiful, Disney princess-like.
It’s sleep he wanted to stay cocooned in forever.
And that’s when he remembered where he was. Whose body he was wrapped around. Whose scent, whose warmth had lulled him to sleep.
He pulled away—abruptly enough that it woke you up too.
“Keiji…” You mumbled, one foot still in a dream. You reached over, hand searching for the heat of his body. “What’s wrong—“
Akaashi shushed you softly. Better to let you sleep. He leaned down, brushing the hair from your forehead, “There’s nothing wrong. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
You made a noise of protest, hands tightening around Akaashi’s shirt, “Stay with me.”
Akaashi kissed your temple in apology, “I can’t. We’re going to get caught if I stay.”
He pulled your hand from his shirt and set it on the bed. This time, when he stood up, you let him go.
When he reaches the door, he’s as careful as he was the night before. Except this time, he looked back. And he lingered at the sight of you curling into the space he left.
God.God.
He softly closed the door, unable to bear the sight.
He turned and nearly died from shock. “God,” He said, clutching his chest, “What are you doing here?”
“Uh,” Bokuto raised a brow, before glancing at the door Akaashi just exited. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes narrowed, and Akaashi immediately knew he was fucked. “It’s not what you think,” He said, putting a hand up.
“Oh my god,” Bokuto said, eyes widening, “Are you guys—“
“No, no,” Akaashi yell-whispered, going up to Bokuto and covering his mouth. “We can’t talk about it here.”
Akaashi looked around and was relieved to find nobody else. He dragged Bokuto towards his room, before anybody else could see.
Bokuto crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, “Okay, explain. Are you guys dating? Is this why Kuroo was saying you guys have been acting weird—“
“First of all, Kuroo does not know what he’s talking about. Let’s get one thing straight,” Akaashi clarified. His heart was pumping hard in his chest. Heat was creeping up his neck. “We’re not dating,” He said.
Bokuto’s brows furrowed, “So you guys are just…sleeping together?” Bokuto scratched his chin, shrugging, “I guess it could happen. I’ve slept in the same bed as Kenma several times, and it wasn’t weird.”
“Yeah, yeah!” Akaashi enthusiastically agreed, giving him a bright smile, “You got it—“
“It’s not like you guys are doing anything further than that,” Bokuto added, nodding. “It would only be weird if you guys were actually sleeping together,” Bokuto said, his hands gesturing quotation marks.
Akaashi’s smile froze, “Totally not.”
Bokuto paused, “Akaashi…you didn’t….”
See, Akaashi thought with pain, this was the worst part about hanging out with your old friends. They can read you, just with one look. There was never a possibility he was going to get through this vacation without getting caught. He was fucked from the moment he parked in the driveway.
“God,” Bokuto said with disgust, which has Akaashi steeling himself for the worst. He hated disappointing people in general, but disappointing someone as good as Bokuto? It made everything feel much worse. But then he said something unexpected, “I can’t believe you guys are having sex under our shared roof—“
And of all the things Akaashi could say, his stupid brain said this, “We’re all in different rooms.”
Bokuto looked at him with horror, “Dude. Not the point.”
Akaashi corrected himself, “I’m sorry, I mean, we weren’t doing that. At least…” Akaashi scratched his head, “Not here.”
“Akaashi,” Bokuto sighed, his hands going up to his temples. God, he was causing Bokuto stress. “Can we talk about this? This feels like something we should talk about. Unless you’re talking to somebody about this already? Your therapist?”
“Dude, I’m not sharing this with my therapist,” Akaashi said firmly.
“Why not?” Bokuto put his hands on his hips. It reminds Akaashi of Bokuto’s mother. “You already talk to them about the trauma of growing up with divorced parents.”
Akaashi raised his hand, “I don’t talk to them about that.”
“Then what do you talk to them about?” Bokuto said, confused. “I didn’t know you had other traumas.”
“I can’t talk to them about that,” Akaashi said, “She can only handle my perfectionism issues. Anyway, the point is I don’t want to talk about it.”
Bokuto frowned, “Listen, I know you still think I’m immature and maybe that’s why you don’t want to talk about your sex life—“ Akaashi opened his mouth to argue, but Bokuto raised his hand to stop him, “I’m not naive, okay? I know people do that kind of thing without strings attached all the time, but it’s you two.” Bokuto said it straight, “There’s too many years between the two of you. It’s too much just for casual sex.”
Akaashi sighed, his gaze falling to the ground. His hands clenched at his side, “I know exactly what’s at stake.”
“Then why this?” Bokuto asked.
“Because,” Akaashi said simply. There’s so many ways he could follow it up, all of it damning. Because I’m selfish. Because I like it. Because you want it too. “Listen, we’re handling it. It’s between us, and I’d really appreciate it, if you don’t tell the others.”
Bokuto looked like he had more things to say.
Akaashi shook his head, “Please. It’ll be okay.”
It has to be.
.
.
.
Bokuto thankfully kept quiet. Though their conversation that morning had him feeling on edge the whole day.
He’s been too relaxed this whole time, clearly. First, Kuroo had mentioned something. And now, Bokuto knew there was something going on between them. It was only a matter of time before Kenma descended on them, and he didn’t know if he had the strength for it.
The best thing to do, he was certain, was to lay low.
And that meant, staying away from you.
It would be easier if they stayed home that day, but it was too nice to stay holed up in their rooms, the group decided. They wanted to explore town today, despite the fact that they’ve been going here for years now.
There were only five of them. Akaashi knew it was going to be difficult to avoid you, but for the sake of your relationship, he had to try.
It wasn’t too bad in the beginning. Whenever they walked together, Kuroo, for all the length of his legs, walked the slowest, and you always ended up walking with him. So he doesn’t get lonely, Akaashi remembered you saying once. Though if you asked Akaashi, he thought it was because you couldn’t keep up with Kenma’s brisk pace. No matter what the real reason was, Akaashi was grateful.
But then, they’d stop by at places to shop around, and that proved to be a problem. You would quietly follow him around the store, saying things like, that looks good on you, when Akaashi was inspecting a shirt. Things like, do you want me to buy it for you, when Akaashi said it was too expensive. No, no, it’s okay, Akaashi said to no avail, watching as you swiped it off his hands to pay for it at the register.
He knew how it looked. Only couples did that. He avoided Bokuto’s gaze, though he couldn’t avoid Kenma and Kuroo’s whispering from pricking his ears.
He felt monitored, and he hated it. It made him absolutely irritable, sensitive to touch. The glare of the sun on his back made him worse. And unfortunately, you got the brunt of it.
It wasn’t your fault, Akaashi knew. Kuroo was right, you guys were always touchy. You had this habit of clinging onto his arm, an old habit you never outgrew. Akaashi didn’t mind it; in fact, most of the time, he liked it. Liked feeling needed. But today, all it did was make him more paranoid—that his friends would see it and come tease him about it. Every time you touched him, spoke to him, looked at him, his entire body tensed, preparing himself to be called out for it.
The first time he stiffened you gave him a confused glance. The next couple times raised concern. It got to the point where you pulled him aside, a pocket of a moment while their friends were in the restroom, and asked, Keiji, what is up with you?
But Akaashi couldn’t give you a straight answer. You pushed, Akaashi pulled. He insisted it was nothing. And eventually, you left him alone.
You didn’t try to touch him at all after that.
.
.
.
His mood only worsened after dinner. The day’s events had built up on him, and the only thing that he wanted to do was sleep.
His friends had other plans though, and his stomach churned when he saw Kuroo walk out of the kitchen with several bottles of sake, coke, and iced tea. Dear god, alcohol was the last thing he needed tonight.
“Kuroo,” He said, flatly.
“What,” Kuroo said, putting the drinks on the floor where everyone had begun to gather around. “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to. But I think it would relax you.”
Kenma grabbed a bottle and started shaking it, “Somebody grab some ice too. The coke isn’t even cold.”
“I got it!” Bokuto said, standing up. He patted Kenma’s head as he went. Meanwhile, Kenma pulled Akaashi down by the hand, “Sit down. Even if you don’t want to drink, you can still help make it.”
“Fine,” Akaashi said with a sigh, “Who’s drinking?”
“Me!” Came Bokuto’s answer from the kitchen. Akaashi didn’t really have to ask Kuroo and Kenma, which really only left…you, who had quietly sat in front of him.
Akaashi busied himself with opening the bottle of iced tea, “You drinking, Y/N?”
“Yeah,” You said, a heaviness in your voice. When Akaashi glanced at you, he saw you fiddling with a fraying thread on your shorts, “It’s been a long day.”
The response sent waves of guilt through him.
“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Kuroo said, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders, “Nothing a little drink won’t solve.”
You laughed, “It worries me. You’re saying that when you’re planning to be someone’s boss someday.”
“Oh,” Kenma teased, “He has more pressing things to worry about. Like passing calculus.”
Akaashi tuned them out, focusing on making the drinks. Bokuto came back with the ice, and Akaashi took the ice trays, cracked the ice out of the moulds, and placed them in all the drinks.
Against his judgement, he ended up making himself a drink too. Something he was immediately grateful for whenever he felt your eyes on him. It was good to have something to do, even if it was to sip his drink to avoid your gaze.
The alcohol did its job too. He felt tension leak out of him with each sip. His thoughts became muddled too, which was the blessing he needed. All day, he prayed his brain would shut up. To stop giving a fuck for just a moment, so he could catch his breath.
On his way to tipsy, he finished his drink and decided—another one. He got teased for it too. “Look at him,” Kuroo said, highly amused, “The only person who said they weren’t drinking is the first person to get another drink.”
Akaashi snorted, but said nothing. See, he told himself. If this was an hour ago, you would have been absolutely irritated at that. Aren’t you glad you started drinking?
“Me too,” You said, cutting through his internal monologue. Akaashi turned to you and saw a glass pushed towards him, “Make me another one too.”
“Sure,” Akaashi said, taking the glass. Your fingers briefly touched, and he hurried to pull away. He swallowed, determined not to think anything of it, even though his fingers felt the heat of contact as he mixed drinks.
When he handed you the finished drink, he was careful to avoid your touch. He wasn’t as careful avoiding your gaze though, which was a mistake. Your eyes were narrowed, and Akaashi felt arrested by your gaze.
“Thanks,” You said as he finally looked away. He cleared his throat, “Should we play a drinking game? You guys are taking so long to drink.”
“Don’t worry,” Kenma said, “We’re all lightweights here. Except Bokuto. We just need to force Kuroo to take a shot or two and he’ll be there.”
Bokuto shrugged, “A game could be fun. We could watch a movie and take a shot every time somebody did or said something.”
Kenma shook his head, “I don’t want to get alcohol poisoning. And at least one of us will fall asleep halfway.”
“Hmm,” Bokuto thought out loud, “I mean, the only other games I know are Never Have I Ever, Spin the Bottle, and Truth or Dare—“
Akaashi laughed, “What kind of parties have you been going to?”
Bokuto laughed too, but Kenma defended his friend’s choices, “To be fair, those are the easiest ones to play. I’m too lazy to set up beer pong or even King’s Cup.”
“Never Have I Ever…is going to be boring,” Kuroo piped up, “We all know each other. If we did anything, we’d know it by now.”
“That’s not true,” You said, amused, “I could say, never have I ever puked in a public pool, and only you would have to drink.”
Kuroo gave you a sharp look, “That’s a traumatic memory, Y/N. I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring that up.”
You mocked him by copying his words. Kenma cut in before the conversation could devolve into outright smacking each other, “So I guess Truth or Dare, it is—“
“Wow, you’re not even going to entertain Spin the Bottle,” Kuroo said. He puckered up, “You don’t want to kiss me, Kenma?”
Akaashi watched as Kenma didn’t even act like he heard Kuroo, and immediately wished he could be as cool. Kenma smiled, turning to Bokuto who sat between him and Akaashi, “I’ll start. Bokuto, truth or dare.”
Bokuto shrugged, “Dare.”
“Excellent,” Kenma grinned, “Knew you would say that. Go out into the water and stand there for thirty seconds before going out.”
Bokuto gaped at him, “Why, you—“
Meanwhile, everybody laughed. Kenma added, “If it helps, you could go in naked—“
“Thanks for the great idea, Kenma,” Bokuto said, standing up. “I’ll remember it when it’s your turn.” To his credit, Bokuto didn’t even try to get out of it. He just put his hand on his hips and asked, “Is anyone going to time me?”
You raised his hand, “I can do it.”
The two of them went outside, while the rest watched from the back porch.
“You’re so evil,” Kuroo said, but he was chuckling as Bokuto bravely walked into the water. They could hear you loudly counting down from thirty. It was a bit evil, but all of them laughed when Bokuto shivered, and even more, when Bokuto immediately raced out of the water when the count ended and hugged you.
Your shriek was loud and you looked disgruntled walking back, meanwhile, Bokuto was laughing so brightly.
They let Bokuto get changed into something warm before restarting the game. “I feel so alive,” Bokuto said, good-natured. He gave Kenma a playful glare, before turning to Akaashi. “Your turn, Akaashi. Truth or dare.”
“Uh,” Akaashi scratched his head, unsure, “I’ll choose dare too.”
Bokuto smiled, “Great, go outside and stand in the water for a minute.”
“Jesus,” Akaashi said, grabbing his drink and chugging it down. When he finished, he shook his head, “I’m good.”
Kuroo coughed, saying something that suspiciously sounded like, coward. Akaashi gave him the sweetest smile, “Well, Kuroo. It’s your turn. Truth or dare.”
“Dare,” Kuroo said, taking up the challenge.
Kenma laughed, “Get into the water—“
“Unoriginal,” Kuroo said, but Akaashi didn’t care. He just wanted to see Kuroo suffer, “No, he’s right. Get into the water and stand in there for a minute and a half.”
Kuroo briefly looked at his drink, before standing up. “No big deal. Kenma, can you time me?”
Akaashi had a feeling all of them were going to end up in the cold water by the end of the night. Kuroo’s turn in the water was even funnier though. For a bastard so afraid of the water, he didn’t even complain that much going in. Though, Akaashi guessed, it wasn’t so much about fear. It was more about pride, which is something he could understand.
Kuroo stubbornly shivered in the water as Kenma counted down and just like Bokuto, he got out fast as soon as the timer was done. However, unlike Bokuto, instead of simply hugging Kenma, he grabbed the phone in Kenma’s hand and tossed it in
Featuring:Kozume Kenma x GN!Reader Content:Fake dating fluff with a flustered Kenma Words:675 Notes:Written for anon as part of my 100 guests event!
Receiving an unprompted call from a chronic texter seems very serious. You squint at your phone as you’re enjoying your Saturday afternoon, a little surprised to see Kozume Kenma’s name pop up above the meme you selected as his contact photo.
“Hello?“ You ask.
“Are you free tonight?” He rushes the question.
“Hold on, are you asking me out? Is this some kind of prank call?” You raise your voice in a teasing question. Kenma clears his throat while he waits for you to finish your surprised laughter. He would never want to interrupt something so precious.
“It’s… complicated. Are you free or not?”
“I am.” You admit. Curiosity draws you in. You can’t help how Kenma’s aloofness made him a bit charming. A glimpse into his world for the evening would be like a fun game.
it was unexpected when you had found out you were pregnant. even more unexpected when your boyfriend kenma agreed to help raise the baby. despite living apart at the moment, the two of you had a baby girl, just shy of seven months now. it wasn’t that you two were broken up or you didn’t want to live together, it was just difficult finding a house that could fit you three and afford with both incomes. at the moment, your daughter stayed between houses every few weeks, mainly at yours but this weekend she was with kenma.
you clicked away through your files on your laptop as you glanced at the house site tab every so often. letting out a sigh, as you go to call your boyfriend, he was already calling you on discord on his pc.
“hi bubs,” you smile at your boyfriend on the computer screen. “and hi pumpkin.” greeting your daughter, who was gnawing on kenma’s hoodie strings as she lay flush against his shoulder. her hands barely wave as she sniffles and chews. her hair is messily done pigtails, one drooping more than the other.
“love,” he sighs, playing with her fingers as he bounces her on his leg. “can you come get her?”
“why? what’s wrong?” you tilt your head. “was she crying?”
“i- yeah but i- she wouldn’t stop crying today,” kenma pinches the bridge of his nose. your daughter looks up at him, gripping his hoodie to get his attention. “and she pooped all over the bed so i don’t know what to do or why she doesn’t feel good.”
“she’s probably teething, that’s why she’s biting your clothes,” you gesture. she turns slightly to the screen, whispering small noises as she looks at you. “she chews on my hand when she goes to bed because her pacifier isn’t enough for her.”
“oh,” he looks at your daughter in defeat. you watch as he carefully pulls up her lips to expose four teeth creeping up in the front. she winces as he counts the teeth with the pads of his fingers. “she has four now.”
“four!? she’s growing up too fast. she had three last week,” you pout. “if she’s still hurting, rub her gums and if it’s too much for her, you can give her the tylenol in her bag.”
“well, me and stinkie are gonna go take a bath,” he says lifting her up, making her giggle at the motion. she reaches for his face, grinning down at her dad. “say bye to mama.”
she opens and closes her hand towards the screen, babbling softly. “bye bubby, bye pumpkin. mwah, mwah, i’ll come over tonight so i can sleep over m'kay?”
the call ends and kenma looks at his daughter as she drools down her onesie. “okay stinkers, you do need a bath.” he carries her to the bedroom, setting her down on the middle of the bed.
“baba?” she babbled. she pats her hands below her as she watched kenma place down new clothes and a fresh diaper. she picks up the items, giggling as bath time is her favorite.
“yes, baby, babas,” he agrees. “hopefully, mama and i can live together soon so i don’t need to call her every time you cry.” he squishes her cheek softly as she looks at him in awe. he lays beside her momentarily as she crawls over to him.
she reaches up to tug his hair, her way of asking for kisses. kenma lifts her up and peppers her face with kisses, pulling away only for her to lean into his cheek. she nibbles and drools onto him, making him cringe at the feeling. “okay stinkie, now we both are going babas, you gremlin.”
I’m having an all-in items sale to clear out the surplus stock for my shop. Please refer below for the stocks available and how to avail them
I need additional funds to finance my continuing med school study and the profit I’ll get here is to invest for a decent stethoscope (I’m a self-supporting student and I hustle whenever I can to ease the cost of my education).
