Work Text:
“Kenma.” Koutaro blurts the name out as soon as he hears Kenma’s soft greeting on the other line. There’s cotton filling his ears; it’s been there since he got home.
“Koutaro,” Kenma says slowly in response.
Koutaro licks his lips. It feels like there’s sand on his tongue now and he can’t really remember the reason he’s calling.
“Uh.” He sputters. “Hi.”
“Hello.”
“I was wondering….” Koutaro trails off. He pops a knuckle in his first finger. He coughs once, holding his phone a little way away from his mouth so he doesn’t burst Kenma’s eardrum with the sound.
“Would you, uh, could we. I was wondering if you could do my hair tonight. Um. Touch up my roots.”
Kenma huffs a little on the other end. “Kuro has a night class tonight. So, he won’t be around.”
“That’s okay!” Koutaro did have enough brain power to remember tonight was the night Kuroo wouldn’t be hanging around Kenma’s. Which was part of the reason he’d asked.
It wasn’t something unheard of for them. Both Kenma and Koutaro had learned a while ago that Kuroo was no good at dying hair, unfortunately, so the two of them had learned to help each other out to make up for Kuroo’s uselessness in that specific area. It was a habit of convenience, as well; Koutaro spends a good amount of time at Kenma and Kuroo’s apartment, so it just makes sense that every six weeks, he and Kenma touch up each other’s roots.
Koutaro cannot, however, recall a time where he and Kenma have really hung out together sans Kuroo.
“Oh. Then, yeah. That’s fine. It’s about time anyway,” Kenma says. A deep breath whooshes out of Koutaro.
“Okay great! Can I come over in like an hour?” It’s a long time for Koutaro to wait, but it seems like the most appropriate time to suggest.
Kenma hums for a moment. “Could we do two, instead? I should probably clean up a bit.”
“Oh. Um, sure.” Koutaro hopes his disappointment doesn’t bleed into his words. What is he going to do for two more hours? He’s already losing his mind.
“You’re sure?” Kenma voice pitches a little higher and Koutaro imagines him pinching his eyebrows together with concern. “Are you alright, Koutaro?”
“Yeah! I’m great, Kenma. I can’t wait to see you later. Gah, my hair’s been bugging me! Haha. Anyway! I’ll let you go. But I’ll see you later, okay?” Bokuto chews his lip, waiting for Kenma to say something.
“Okay. See you.”
“Bye!”
The line clicks off as Kenma hangs up the call, leaving Koutaro in the deafening silence of his apartment. His roommate, Akaashi, is at work. And Koutaro is glad for that; he’s the reason for Koutaro’s panic anyway.
Koutaro sags against the cool surface of the fridge. He checks his phone. There’re no new messages (obviously, he just hung up a call) and two minutes have passed. Only one hundred and eighteen minutes left until he could do something about the swirling feeling in his stomach.
He passes the time by pretending to work on homework but actually flipping through three apps on his phone at the kitchen island. There’s an essay that’s growing in importance that Koutaro should probably focus on, but he really can’t. Not right now.
Thirty minutes before the time he’s supposed to be at Kenma’s, Koutaro puts aside his homework and grabs the box of hair dye that he keeps in the cabinet over the sink in the bathroom and rushes out the door. He makes it to the street level of his apartment building before he remembers that he hadn’t locked the door. Not wanting to upset Akaashi when he comes home later, Koutaro runs back up the stairs to lock the front door.
Kenma and Kuroo live closer to the university that Kenma and Akaashi go to. There’re three stations the train passes through before Koutaro gets off. Normally, he’d come with Akaashi. Or Kuroo would come to him. Koutaro picks at his nails as he waits for his station.
It’s warm as Koutaro walks from the station to Kenma and Kuroo’s apartment. There’s a soft breeze. It runs through the team jacket Koutaro’s wearing and he fights off a shiver. It’s a quick walk, though, and Kenma is just as quick to buzz Koutaro up. He skips the elevator and takes the stairs two at a time, still needing to exhume the rest of his nervous energy. Kenma and Kuroo live on the fourth floor, and the trip up successfully winds Koutaro by the time reaches it. He knocks three times and listens for the sound of Kenma shuffling over to the door.
“Hey,” Kenma says in his sleepy voice when he opens the door. He’s wearing grey sweatpants with a hole in the knee and a Nekoma hoodie that is too big for him and probably Kuroo’s.
“Hey, hey, Kenma!” Koutaro gives a little wave, the drops his hand to the back of his neck to scratch at the short hairs there. “How’s it going?”
“Fine.” Kenma takes a few steps back and bringing the door with him to let Koutaro in. Koutaro does, slipping his shoes off on the genkan. He takes a few steps into the apartment, bouncing a bit on his socked feet and twisting his hands around the strap of the canvas bag over his shoulder as Kenma closes the door. “Do you want something to drink?”
“No, I’m good,” Koutaro says and immediately realizes he’s incredibly thirsty. Kenma doesn’t realize this, obviously, and shrugs.
“Hair then.” Kenma pads off towards the bathroom.
Koutaro follows Kenma through the apartment to the small bathroom. The apartment is vastly cleaner than any of the other times Koutaro has been here, and he can’t help but wonder if that was the result of the extra hour Kenma had given between their phone call.
There are already two bowls set out on the counter, with two new applicator brushes still in the packaging and a box of Kenma’s bleach sitting next to them. Koutaro takes the initiative to empty the contents of his bag onto the vinyl surface. They get to work silently, mixing their respective products into their bowls, the whole scene reminding Koutaro, once again, how little he and Kenma have hung out alone.
The silence is also making his jittery nerves flare up again and the plastic spoon he’s using to mix up his dye is slick in his hand.
“We should go in my room,” Kenma says when they’re both done. He picks up his bowl and walks out of the bathroom before Koutaro can say anything.
Kenma’s room smells nice, like a mix an air fresher’s take on the ocean and a sugar cookie scented candle. The floor was clear, save for a pile of presumably dirty clothes gathering in one corner. Koutaro bounces on the balls of his feet again as he waits.
“I can do yours first,” Koutaro say. “If you want.”
Kenma pulls his gaming chair away from the desk. There’s a furrow between his brows. “Sure.”
Koutaro sits down in the chair when Kenma gestures to and Kenma settles on the floor with his legs crossed beneath him. They swap bowls and Koutaro settles it between his thighs as he tears away the packaging of the applicator brush.
“Okay,” Koutaro says. “I’m going to start now.”
Kenma hums in acknowledgement. Koutaro dips the applicator in and starts. It’s easy, once he gets going. The motions are familiar, and it calms the buzzing in his fingertips. The room is quiet still, but its not tinged with the discomfort that had plagued them earlier. Kenma pulls out his phone and flips through a variety of apps on them as Koutaro touches up the edges of his phone. Sometimes, Koutaro catches a glance at the screen, but he’s not as interested in that as he is in Kenma’s hair.
When he’s done, Koutaro fits Kenma’s sticky hair into a cap and lets Kenma stand up. The other boy tucks his phone into his hoodie pocket and stands, stretching his arms above his head and yawning, looking very much like a cat.
“Thanks,” Kenma says, blinking a few times. “Ready to switch?”
“Yeah!” Koutaro jumps up, making the chair spin around and the wheels sputter along the carpet.
Kenma grabs the chair and sits, making room for Koutaro between his legs. Koutaro sits. He tips his head back as Kenma begins to comb through it. Fingers snag on a few knots and Koutaro apologizes for not brushing it beforehand. Kenma just hums. Koutaro closes his eyes. He likes the feeling of Kenma’s fingers in his hair, tugging a bit. He likes the cool feeling of the dye soaking into his roots, the sting it leaves behind as it sets. But it’s not quite enough to settle him as doing Kenma’s hair had. There’s nothing to do with his hands, so they twitch in his lap. He picks at a loose hangnail, twists his pinky until it hurts.
“Koutaro,” Kenma finally says. Koutaro stops pulling at his fingers. His eyes blink open and he twitches with the urge to turn and look at Kenma but remembers he’s supposed to be staying still. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah! Course I am, Kenma.” Koutaro’s words are too loud; Kenma doesn’t like loud things.
“It’s just.” Kenma trails off and his hands still in Koutaro’s hair. Now, Koutaro is afraid to turn around and look at him. “You seem a bit off. Since you called. And it’s weird for you to come over when you know Kuroo isn’t here.”
“Is that weird?” Koutaro laughs but it sounds mangled in his throat. He forces a cough out.
“Yes.”
“Ah,” Koutaro says. His shoulders drop. Kenma’s hands leave his hair entirely, waiting. Koutaro swallows and wishes he had asked for a glass of water when Kenma had asked. “Well. I guess, there was something I wanted to ask you about.” The end of his words fade a little, so he coughs to clear his throat. “Um. It’s not really a big deal if you don’t want to answer. It’s kinda personal.”
“That’s okay,” Kenma says. His hands begin to move in Koutaro’s hair again, which is a relief.
Sighing, Koutaro continues. “Okay. Um. Was it weird for you when you and Kuroo had sex for the first time?”
Kenma pauses and Koutaro imagines him frowning. He scratches the inside of his wrist as he waits for a response.
“Why would it be weird?” Kenma asks.
“I don’t know! I’m just asking.”
“Was it weird when you and Kuroo had sex?”
Koutaro winces at this. They had been young when it happened, right after they’d graduate high school. It had been after Koutaro’s graduation party and Kuroo had spent the night and neither of them had kissed a boy before but things had let to them becoming each other’s first time. It had been sloppy and unpracticed and a little awkward in the morning, but it quickly became something to laugh about after they’d made it perfectly clear that they both knew they liked boys, but not each other. But it definitely wasn’t weird.
“It wasn’t weird,” Koutaro tells Kenma. (The only thing that is weird is that Koutaro is talking about the one, single time he slept with Kuroo with Kuroo’s boyfriend.) “I just mean,” Koutaro continues, “that was it weird because you knew you had feelings for Kuroo?”
“Oh,” Kenma says. The chair creaks a bit as he leans back. “No. I mean, I was nervous. But it was fun too, you know? It was Kuroo. And I knew he had feelings for me too.”
“Right.” Koutaro says. He sniffs. The situations weren’t really the same, after all.
“Why are you asking about that?”
“Ah. Well, Akaashi, he asked me something today. And I’ve been thinking about it for like hours. And I don’t know how to answer him. And I have to give him an answer by the time I see him tonight.”
“You have to?” Kenma asks because he’s perceptive and knows Akaashi wouldn’t demand any sort of answer out of anybody.
“Well. I feel like I should have an answer for him. Or at least, some sort of response. I’ll feel too bad, otherwise.”
“What did he ask you?”
There it is. The dreaded question. Koutaro feels like his heart is going to leap into his throat and he’s going to throw it up onto Kenma’s carpet. He chews his lip for a moment, thinking of the best way to say it.
“He, uh. He asked me to if I would want to sleep with him. To, uhm, be his first time.”
Kenma’s quiet for a while. It gives Koutaro time to think about Akaashi sitting in the kitchen of their apartment with his homework spread across the table as he worked on highlighting in a textbook.
He was wearing his glasses and they’d slid down his nose when he’d looked up to see Koutaro coming in from his afternoon practice and had asked Koutaro if he could sit down. Koutaro had thought he was going to reprimand him for leaving too many dirty dishes in the sink again, but Akaashi had just pushed his glasses back up his nose with his first finger and asked if Koutaro was opposed to having sex with him.
“I’ve never had sex before and I don’t really have plans on getting in a relationship with someone or hooking up with someone random, but I’d like to try it because you’ve got experience and I trust you,” Akaashi had said in that matter of fact way Akaashi says things and Koutaro had wanted to say that he’s not that experienced, especially with boys because he’s only slept with one boy, one time and it was Kuroo so does that really even count? But he hadn’t said that; he’d just flapped his mouth a few times and Akaashi had quietly packed up his homework and told Koutaro that he could think about it. Then, Akaashi left for work and Koutaro had been spiraling since.
“And it’s not like I want to say no, you know?” Koutaro says, snapping back to the present and speaking before Kenma can say anything. “It’s Akaashi. He’s like… the most beautiful boy in the whole world. Sex with him would probably great. But. It’s Akaashi. What if it’s not good? What if I mess up and he hates me? It’s his first time, it should be special, with someone special. And, like, what if it’s awkward? Or weird? We live together. And Akaashi is probably my best friend, aside from Kuroo. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.”
“Koutaro,” Kenma says. His voice is soft and cool and oddly comforting. Koutaro can take a breath, finally. Kenma’s not touching his hair anymore, so Koutaro twists to look up at him. “How long have you been thinking about this?”
“Sleeping with Akaashi or Akaashi asking me to sleep with him.”
Kenma raises an eyebrow. “Both. I guess.”
“Okay. Well, Akaashi asked me this afternoon, after I got home from practice at like five, so.” Koutaro fishes his phone out of his pocket and checks the time. “Like three and a half hours. But I’ve probably been thinking about sleeping with Akaashi, or at least kissing him, since he joined the Fukurodani volleyball team. I think I’ve been in love with him since he first set for me.”
“You love him?” Kenma asks softly. Koutaro shrugs, trying to pretend his heart isn’t beating in his ears. He turns back around and hopes Kenma goes back to finishing his hair. He does.
“Yeah. I mean who wouldn’t?” Koutaro laughs to break the tension.
“Why haven’t you told him?”
Koutaro closes his eyes and tries to focus on Kenma’s work. The bleach is starting to sting more. He shrugs. “Because. He’s Akaashi.”
“What does that mean?”
“He’s like, the coolest person ever. And gorgeous. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone that’s prettier than Akaashi. Plus, he’s super smart. He’s got all these plans to be a writer. And that’s so cool. There’s no way he’d have feelings for someone like me.” Koutaro feels himself deflate a little. “And he’s my best friend. I wouldn’t want to tell him something like that and make him uncomfortable.”
“I don’t think that’s what would happen,” Kenma says. He gets up from his chair and grabs the other cap from his desk. The plastic rim pinches around Koutaro’s scalp as Kenma slips it on.
“What do you think I should say to him when I get home?” Koutaro hates how soft and small his voice sounds. He busies himself with standing up, twisting so his vertebrae pop in a satisfying crack.
“I just told you. I think you should tell him how you feel.”
“But that’s not the question he asked.”
Kenma hums. He plugs his phone into a charger by his bed and perches on the mattress. Koutaro smirks at the sight of Kenma thinking so pensively with the plastic cap over his hair. “I guess, if you’re not going to tell him…. You do want to have sex with him, no?”
“I mean.” Koutaro scratches his arm and looks at his feet. There’s a hole in one of his socks. Another pair in the trash. “Yeah. Yeah, I want to. It makes me super happy he’d trust me with that. And if that’s the only way I can have him… not like, have him! He’s not property. But like, uh, be with him, I guess. I think that would make me happy. To be with him once. I’m just nervous.”
“So, tell him you’re nervous,” Kenma says. “Sex is all about communication, right? Keiji is probably just as nervous.”
“Yeah. You’re right.” Koutaro rolls his shoulders back. He feels a little better after getting the whole thing off his chest, but there’s still the prospect of actually talking to Akaashi about it.
“Plus,” Kenma says as he stands again, “maybe he does feel the same way and is waiting for you to say something.”
Koutaro barks out a laugh. “Yeah, okay Kenma.”
Kenma frowns a little, then comes over to Koutaro and pats his shoulder. “Help me wash out my hair.”
They pad into the bathroom. Kenma takes the cap off his head and turns the faucet in the bath, letting the water run hot as he kneels down beside the basin. Koutaro washes the chemicals out of
Kenma’s hair, then dries it with the blow-dryer as Kenma sits on the closed toilet seat. By the time they finished with Kenma, Koutaro’s hair was finished setting, so they switched places and repeated the process.
“If I was you,” Kenma said when he switched off the blow-dryer, “I would say yes. To sleeping with Keji. I think you should tell him how you feel, but if I was in your situation, I would just say yes.
Worry about feelings later.”
Koutaro grinned. He would never admit this, but that was the exact answer he had been hoping for and the reason he’d call Kenma in the first place. “You’re right. You’re so right, Kenma.”
Kenma rolled his eyes like he knew Koutaro’s dirty secret.
Koutaro helped Kenma clean up the remnants of their night from the bathroom. They worked in relative silence; the awkwardness gone. Kenma’s humming quietly under his breath. Koutaro’s got his extra supplies packed away and slung over his shoulder when Kuroo comes back from his class.
Kuroo, with his messy hair and unzipped backpack, swoops down to give Kenma a kiss as the first thing he does when he gets into the apartment. Kenma is smiling, soft and sweet and unlike any other expression he’s directed towards Koutaro, or anyone other than Kuroo, really. There’s a stabbing at Koutaro’s chest as he watches, something deep and burning and jealous that Koutaro can’t make his own roommate look as pleased as Kuroo can do to Kenma right now.
“Bo, what are you doing here?” Kuroo asks when he finally pulls himself away from Kenma.
“Oh, hey Kuroo,” Koutaro says. He gives a little wave, floundering for an answer.
“Koutaro came over so we could do our hair,” Kenma says, saving Koutaro.
Kuroo pouts a little. “Without me?” He recovers, though, and runs a hand through Kenma’s newly blond hair. “It looks good.”
“Anyway,” Koutaro says. “I was just gonna head out. Early practice and all.”
“Right,” Kuroo says. He loops an arm around Kenma’s shoulder and Kenma leans his head into Kuroo’s chest. Koutaro wrinkles his nose and focuses on stuffing his shoes on. “Text me about this weekend though, yeah?”
“Yeah!” Koutaro lifts his head and grins, despite the churning in his stomach that’s been growing. “Yeah, I’ll see you. Thanks again, Kenma. I’ll see you!”
“Good luck, Koutaro,” Kenma says as Koutaro pulls the door open. Koutaro steps into the hall and hears the tail end of a squawking Kuroo asking what good luck means. It makes Koutaro laugh a little, shaking his head as he walks down the hallway.
A piece of Koutaro feels guilty for not talking to Kuroo about his Akaashi problem. Kuroo had been subjected to years of Akaashi based pining by this point, and Koutaro was almost certain of what Kuroo’s response would be to Akaashi suddenly asking Koutaro to have sex with him. He’s in love with you too, dude. You just have to talk to him.
Koutaro shakes his head, as if to physically get the phantom voice of Kuroo out of it. He’d heard Kuroo’s insistence for years. It’s the last thing he needs now.
There’s no way that Akaashi could feel the same way.
Koutaro is reminded of this when he unlocks the door to the apartment he shares with Akaashi, finding said roommate sitting, almost exactly, where he’d been when Koutaro had come home hours earlier, and looking as beautiful as always.
Akaashi’s at the kitchen table, homework spread out over the surface as he types on his laptop. He looks up when he hears Koutaro come in, typing pausing as he looks up. Akaashi is wearing his glasses and pushes them up the bridge of his nose and blinks owlishly from behind the frames.
“You’re back,” Akaashi says.
“I am,” Koutaro says. He drops his bag on the floor after taking off his shoes and goes to sit at the table across from Akaashi. “I went over to Kuroo’s and Kenma’s. Kenma and I needed to touch up our roots. How was work.”
“Your hair looks nice,” Akaashi says. Koutaro has to swallow twice around the butterflies in his throat that the compliment gives life to. He stretches out his legs under the table, accidentally bumping against Akaashi’s foot. He utters a soft sorry. Akaashi shakes his head a little. “It’s fine. Work was fine.”
A heavy silence falls between them. Koutaro picks at a hangnail on his thumb, pretending his heart isn’t beating in his ears. It hurts to look at Akaashi, who seems to be just as much at a loss for words as Koutaro is.
Finally, Koutaro opens his mouth and says, “Uh, hey Akaashi about—”
At the same time Akaashi says, “Boukuto-san, I—”
This makes both of them laugh and the tension leaves the room. Koutaro leans back in his chair and can finally look up at Akaashi.
“Go ahead,” Koutaro says.
“Alright. I was going to apologize for earlier,” Akaashi says and Koutaro feels his stomach drop. “It was totally inappropriate for me to ask that of you. And then to just leave like that… I’m sorry.”
Koutaro laughs. It’s too loud and Akaashi jumps at the sound.
“Sorry, sorry,” Koutaro says, waving his hand around in the air, as if that’ll do something. “I was just going to say that I would love to sleep with you.”
Akaashi’s eyes widen and Koutaro balks a little, trying to think of a way to backpedal. “I just mean, I’d love to be your first. That you trust me. With that.”
“You’re sure?” Akaashi says, sounding very small.
Koutaro nods too many times. “For sure! And I mean, I’m not some sex god or anything, but I think I know enough to help you, so you’re ready to do it with someone for real. If you do still want to, that is.”
The words taste like ash in Koutaro’s mouth, and he winces. Stupid. He shouldn’t have reminded himself that it’s fake. For practice. Akaashi’s eyes are still wide and boring into Koutaro. He feels too hot and itchy in his clothes. He checks the time on his phone.
“You, um, you didn’t want to do it tonight, did you?” Koutaro asks. He feels like he has to run laps or spike a thousand volleyballs into the ground. He glances over at Akaashi, who’s ducked his head down, but not enough to hide the pink blush on his cheeks. There’s a sort of thrill that runs down Koutaro’s spine at the idea of making Akaashi blush.
“No, no,” Akaashi says. He shuts his laptop and begins packing up his homework, fumbling a bit as he collects various pens and highlighters. Koutaro can’t help smiling at the sight; he’s adorably endearing. “Um. I was thinking this weekend. Maybe. I don’t work until later on Sunday and you usually don’t have practice, so. Saturday night would seem the best option.”
Cute. Unbearably Akaashi. Leave it to Akaashi to plan the perfect night to have sex with his roommate. (Which is another jolting shock to Koutaro as he realizes that Akaashi has planned out the perfect night to have sex that works well for both their schedules.)
“Saturday, yeah. Yeah! Saturday should work for me,” Koutaro says, standing up and walking to the sink to pour himself a glass of water before he accidentally confesses his love for Akaashi or something equally mortifying.
“Okay. Perfect. Thank you, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi slings his packed backpack over his shoulder.
“Anytime,” Koutaro says through a mouthful of water as he leans against the kitchen counter. Most of it dribbles down his chin and Koutaro hastily swipes at it with his free hand, choking a bit on the water that managed to stay in his mouth. Akaashi is laughing in that little way he does, where his shoulders just shake a little and his mouth turns up at the corners and he looks at Koutaro like he’s the biggest lost cause.
“I’m going to bed,” Akaashi says, still smiling softly as he turns to walk towards his room. “Please don’t choke while I’m gone.”
“Will do, ‘Kaashi.” Koutaro calls after him. “Sleep well!”
The rest of the week passes painfully slowly. Not only do weeks without games usually pass slowly for Koutaro, but now there’s the added weight of his Saturday plans that looming with each day that passes.
Normally, Koutaro doesn’t have classes on Friday and he and Akaashi usually spend a few hours at the café on campus working on homework. Well. Akaashi usually does his homework and Koutaro tries not to stare at the way Akaashi pokes his tongue out of the corner of his mouth a little in concentration and saves his own work to be completed in a mad rush in his bedroom the night before it’s due.
Today’s not much different, but the nerves coursing through his limbs are on high alert. He’s been bouncing his leg under the table for most of the past hour and a half they’ve been at the café. Akaashi has given Koutaro a Look at least three times, so far.
Koutaro didn’t really think he could be blamed for this, though, given the situation.
It doesn’t help that Miya Osamu has been working his shift the whole time they’ve been sitting at the café and keeps coming over to their table to top off Akaashi’s coffee and flashing his stupidly beautiful smile and engaging them both in pleasant conversation with his stupidly hot accent.
Miya is leaning against their table now, balancing the empty coffee pot on his hip and Akaashi’s looking up at him like he’s the sun itself. Koutaro’s chewing the straw of the smoothie he finished hours ago, staring at the way that the muscles of Miya’s bicep flex and ripple under his weight and how incredibly unfair it is that he’s still that ripped even after quitting volleyball. How does that even make sense?
“Do y’all have plans for this weekend?” Koutaro hears Miya ask, which makes his blood freeze over and snap his attention back towards the conversation. Akaashi’s gaze flickers over to Koutaro for a second and the faintest hint of pink blush spreading over his cheeks, just barely hidden by the frame of his glasses. Then, he looks back up to Miya.
“I think Bokuto-san and I are planning on hanging out at our apartment tomorrow night,” Akaashi says. Koutaro almost chokes on his spit.
“Ah a night in,” Miya says. “Well, if you want to go out, Tsumu’s having a party Saturday night. Bokuto’s probably heard about it, but you’re both welcome to come.”
Koutaro has heard about the party. It’s all Miya’s twin and Koutaro’s teammate, Atsumu, has been talking about before, during, and after practice for the past week. Something about a childhood friend coming to visit this weekend and Atsumu wants him to have the best time. Koutaro feels incredibly left out of this. He goes back to biting his straw.
“Thank you, Myaa-sam,” Akaashi says. His eyes are bright as he watches Miya grin. “We’ll keep that in mind.”
“Awesome. I hope you guys come,” Miya says, attention still fixed on Akaashi only. Koutaro picks up his phone and scrolls through unread messages with his head resting in his hand. It’s only out of the corner of his eye that he sees Miya drift away from their table.
“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, but Koutaro is absorbed in reading a thread in the team group chat, so Akaashi nudges Koutaro’s foot under the table. “Bokuto-san.”
“Hmm? Oh, hey what’s up,” Koutaro says. He clicks off his phone and picks his head up. Akaashi is watching him carefully, the way he does when he’s trying to figure something out.
“Did you want to go to Miya-san’s party on Saturday?” Akaashi asks.
Koutaro frowns. “Um. I mean, I guess I was going to go, before. But then we made plans, so I figured I’d stay with you. I told Kuroo already that I didn’t feel like going. Unless you don’t want to uhm. Do that anymore.” Koutaro swallows. He thinks about the way Miya had only had eyes for Akaashi whenever he came over and the way his fit just a bit too well. “Or. If you wanted to go to the party instead.”
“No, no. That doesn’t sound like something I’d like to go to,” Akaashi says. He takes a sip of his coffee. It’s to hot and he makes a face. “I just didn’t realize you already had plans for Saturday night. You like parties. I don’t want to keep you from your friends. So, if you want to go there, instead of staying at home with me, that’s fine.”
“What? No, Akaashi, are you kidding? I’d much rather hang out with you,” Koutaro says. Before his brain can catch up, the next words are tumbling out of his mouth without his permission. “Besides, I’m excited.”
Akaashi, who had been taking another sip of coffee, nearly chokes. When he recovers, he focuses very hard on putting the paper cup back down. “You are?”
“Yeah! I mean, yeah.”
Akaashi’s cheeks are pink again and he’s beautiful. A smile tugs at Koutaro’s lips. His stupid mouth is vomiting words up again.
“You’re cute when you blush, Akaashi.”
“Bokuto-san, stop.”
“Agh come on, I can’t say that?” Koutaro hopes Akaashi can’t hear the way he trips up on the words as he tries to sound teasing but is terrified he’s coming on too strong.
“You don’t have to say things like that.”
“But it’s true.” Koutaro lowers his voice a few notches. “Miya definitely thinks so.”
“You think?” Akaashi says, eyebrows shooting up, and Koutaro’s heart falls to his feet.
To make up for Koutaro’s entire internal organ system shutting down, Koutaro snorts. “Totally. Why do you think he keeps coming over here to bring you coffee? He thinks you’re cute.”
Akaashi hums and looks over his shoulder towards the counter. Miya is making some coffee drink and flexing his muscles for everyone to see. The little smirk Koutaro watches flicker across Akaashi’s mouth makes Koutaro’s head go fuzzy.
“Is that why you wanted to, you know, practice with me?” Koutaro hears himself ask. He wants to kick himself for all the things he’s been saying today.
Akaashi turns back to Koutaro, eyes widening.
“No,” he says, soft and not as convincing as Koutaro hoped. “No, of course not.”
They stay at the café a little longer, Akaashi falling back into his homework and Koutaro falling into a deeper spiral. Miya doesn’t come over to their table again, but Akaashi does give him a small wave when they’re about to walk out the door. Koutaro silently wishes Miya’s stupid shirt would rip and everyone would laugh at him. Belatedly, Koutaro realized that people wouldn’t laugh at shirtless Miya Osamu, if his arms were any indication of what was underneath.
Practice goes poorly the next morning. So poorly, that after the third set Koutaro misses, Coach threatens to bench him, which sets Koutaro off even more.
He takes his time in the locker room, showering for longer than normal and trying to get himself to relax a little more. It doesn’t work and Atsumu is still in the locker room after Koutaro turns the water off. He immediately descends on Koutaro, demanding to know why he’d heard from Kuroo that Koutaro wasn’t coming tonight.
“Ah, not really been feeling in a party mood lately,” Koutaro says, hoping his lousy performance today will be a good enough excuse. “I’m sorry.”
“S’all good.” Atsumu slings his bag over his shoulder and leers at Koutaro. “You’re all nervous about your date tonight?”
Koutaro freezes. “What?”
Atsumu shrugs. “Samu just mentioned yesterday that you and yer setter are having some cutesy date night tonight and that’s why yer bailing on the party.”
“I- we’re not- he- Akaashi isn’t my setter,” Koutaro says. He pulls a sweatshirt over his head and wishes he could disappear inside it. When he pops back out, he says, “Anymore. We’re just roommates. And it’s not a date.”
“That’s not what it sounded like from Samu,” Atsumu says, turning to head towards the door. “If yer not-date gets boring, or you wanna have some fun, you should swing by.”
Thoroughly shaken by Atsumu, Koutaro clumsily knocks over his bag and the contents spill onto the locker room floor. He swears under his breath as he stoops to pick up his belongings, wondering how the hell Miya Osamu had gotten the idea that Akaashi and Koutaro had a date. Casual sex between totally platonic friends so Akaashi could lose his virginity. But not a date.
Akaashi is working a short shift at the bookstore he works at and isn’t due back to their apartment for a few hours after Koutaro is leaving the gym, so Koutaro decides to run some errands. He’s been thinking and planning how to make Akaashi’s first time.
Koutaro ends up wandering around for longer than he intended and gathered more snacks than supplies, but they are Akaashi’s favorites, so he counts it as a win.
He does, however, manage to find the last thing on his haphazard mental list in the last aisle he wanders to.
“Perfect,” Koutaro says to himself.
There’s still a little more than an hour before Akaashi gets off work by the time Koutaro finishes paying for his haul. He’s been pleasantly distracted by shopping, but panic begins to set in when Koutaro gets home and realizes that his bedroom is a mess and all the plans he’d made have to be put on hold for him to hastily collect all the dirty laundry that’s gathered on the floor. He takes them, along with the sheets stripped from, into the laundry room down the hall. There’s a thrill of pride thrumming through Koutaro as he stands in front of the washer while it hums through the cycle.
The moment is ruined when he realized that those were his only sheets and there’s no way they’d be washed and dried by the time Akaashi got home.
“Fuck,” Koutaro mutters.
He calls Kuroo.
Kuroo answers on the second ring with a sleepy hello. Koutaro launches into the whole, spiraling description of his current situation.
“Wait, wait,” Kuroo says when Koutaro finishes. “You planned a night to sleep with Akaashi?”
“Well,” Koutaro says. He’s sitting on the floor of the laundry room, willing the washer to somehow finish it’s fifty-five-minute cycle in three. “I didn’t plan it. Akaashi did. But I had this plan to like light candles and have roses and make it nice, like the movies, you know? But now my sheets are in the washer, and I don’t have another set and Akaashi’s coming home soon.”
There’s shuffling on the other end and Kuroo speaks softly to someone else, presumably Kenma.
“Koutaro.” It’s Kenma on the phone, his voice soft. “You’re too worried. Just put some blankets on your mattress.”
“Oh. Sure. Sure. That could work,” Koutaro says. He sighs softly. It sounds so shaky. His palms are sweaty.
“You don’t have to go through with this,” Kenma says. “You can tell Akaashi it’s making you uncomfortable.”
“No, no. I want to,” Koutaro says. “For Akaashi.”
“Okay.” There’s a pause. “Do you want to talk to Kuroo again?”
“No. I’m okay now.”
Another pause. Kuroo’s voice rumbles in the background.
“He says he’s going to need a full report after. And that you should tell Akaashi how you feel. And that you owe him… what? Kuro, stop. He says you owe him a night out. Or something.”
Koutaro huffs a laugh. “Okay. That’s fine.”
“Goodbye, Koutaro. Try and relax. Have fun.”
The call clicks off and Koutaro drops his phone into his lap. He watches the laundry spin around in the machine for a moment longer, then picks himself up off the floor.
There’s a collection of blankets that they keep in the living room, draped over the furniture there. Koutaro bundles up as many as he finds and brings them into his room. He spreads them over the mattress as best he can. They’re thick and plush and look better than he had been anticipating. If only he had pillowcases.
Koutaro then grabs his bag from the store and spreads the fake rose petals on top of the blankets and sets up the two-dozen electric tea light candles around the room. He’d wanted real ones, but then gotten nervous about having so many open flames. The tea lights looked fine, though, flickering softly in the dim light of his room. The final touch is a string of fairy lights that Koutaro hangs over his bed. He fixes the last few petals on the blankets, admiring his work.
It looks… romantic.
He smiles.
Koutaro sets out an unopened bottle of lube and a few condoms on the bedside table, then goes out to the living room to wait.
He’s sprawled out on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through his phone when Akaashi comes in. Koutaro pops his head over the back of the couch.
“Hey,” Akaashi says. He steps out of his shoes and hikes his messenger bag up his shoulder a little.
“Hey, hey, Akaashi. How was work?”
“Fine. Not too bad.”
Koutaro scrambles to his feet. He bites his lip. “Are you…”
“I’m going to shower,” Akaashi says. “Then we can start. If you still want.”
“Start, yeah. Yes!” Koutaro ignores the clinical feeling of Akaashi’s words. Akaashi nods once, then pads down the hall. Koutaro flops down onto the couch again. He wishes he’d thought to take another shower.
Thankfully, Akaashi doesn’t take too long. He comes back into the living room with damp hair and wearing a soft pair of sweatpants and an old Fukurodani t-shirt with a collar that’s slightly stretched out, showing the sharp lines of his collarbones. Koutaro wonders if Akaashi will let him kiss him there. His mouth goes dry at the thought.
Akaashi’s twisting his fingers together as he stands in the middle of the living room. He looks soft and young, and it makes Koutaro’s chest swell. Koutaro stands from the couch and dares himself to reach out and take Akaashi’s hands into his own. There’re soft and his fingers are long, wrapping around Koutaro’s own.
“Do you want to do this?” Koutaro ask softly, heart pounding in his ears as he waits for a reply.
Akaashi looks up at him with wide eyes. There’s a slight tremble in his hands. “Yes. I trust you.”
The blatant admission fills Koutaro’s chest until he feels like he’s suffocating.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, without thinking. Then, he backpedals, dropping one of Akaashi’s hands to nervously scratch at the back of his neck. “I mean. If you want to. I don’t know if kissing is something you want…”
“No.” Akaashi rushes the word out, then blushes, dropping his gaze down. “I mean, yes. You can. Kiss me. Please.”
Letting out a long breath, Koutaro brings his hands up to cup Akaashi’s face between them. His skin is soft and warm from the shower. Koutaro tilts Akaashi’s head up and their eyes meet. The look in Akaashi’s gaze is raw and filled with something Koutaro can’t quite decipher. He steels his nerves then and leans down to kiss Akaashi.
It’s shy at first, just the brush of lips together. But Akaashi’s mouth tastes like the water from their shower and the hint of mint Chapstick and Koutaro immediately wants more. They kiss once, twice, just brushing their lips together, then, Koutaro drops his hands from Akaashi’s face and tangles their fingers together before he gets too carried away.
“Um.” Koutaro swallows. “I don’t know where you wanted to do this. But um. I sort of got my room ready.”
He takes a step back and tugs on Akaashi’s hand to walk down the hall towards their rooms. The door to his is slightly open and he pushes it softly to show the lights and the candles and the rose petals. He cringes a bit at the thought that maybe he’d done too much. It’s practice sex, after all.
Akaashi had been looking like he was in some sort of a trance before, but he shakes himself out of whatever it was and steps around Koutaro into the room. Their hands fall apart and Koutaro is left feeling too exposed.
“You did all this for me?”
“Ah, yeah. It’s probably too much, right?” Koutaro laughs. “I can clean it up if it makes you uncomfortable.”
It takes Koutaro by surprise when Akaashi curls his fist into Koutaro’s t-shirt and pulls him into another kiss. There’s more force behind this one, intention.
“It’s perfect,” Akaashi says against Koutaro’s lips. Koutaro swallows the words, running his tongue alone Akaashi’s bottom lip and Akaashi parts his mouth to let him in. Akaashi’s mouth is warm and tastes even more of him. Koutaro feels lightheaded and curls his hands around Akaashi’s hips to steady himself.
Akaashi’s fingers threat though Koutaro’s hair, tugging them closer together. Koutaro lets his hands slide from Akaashi’s hips, snaking around his waist and holding him close. Akaashi’s tongue is soft in Koutaro’s mouth, licking along his teeth. A soft groan slips past Koutaro’s non-existent filter and he’s lost in Akaashi’s kisses. It’s a little inexperienced; messy and sloppy, but Koutaro can’t seem to be bothered by that fact.
It’s Akaashi that begins walking backwards. It’s Akaashi that topples them over onto Koutaro’s mess of blankets and fake rose petals strewn about.
The mattress gives under Koutaro’s knees as he crawls over Akaashi. Akaashi’s spread out against the pillows, his damp hair framing his head like a halo and the soft light filling the room makes his skin practically glow. He’s the most beautiful boy Koutaro has ever seen.
“You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen,” Kotaro says, hold himself above Akaashi on his elbows.
Akaashi’s cheeks flush that beautiful shade of pink. He ducks his chin. “Bokuto-san. Just kiss me.”
Koutaro does; how could he deny a request like that?
He leans down and captures Akaashi’s mouth with his own again. Akaashi’s hands snake around Koutaro’s neck, his nails scraping lightly against the short hairs there. A shiver runs down Koutaro’s spine and he huffs a soft breath against Akaashi’s mouth. He can feel the way Akaashi’s lips curl into a smile against his. Koutaro licks his way back into Akaashi’s mouth, sucking on his tongue. Akaashi lets out a soft noise that sounds so perfect, Koutaro can’t help but do it again. He makes the same little noise, tugging at Koutaro’s hair a bit.
“Wait,” Koutaro says suddenly, lifting his head and separating them. Akaashi is left blinking and dazed beneath him as Koutaro rolls to the side. “Do you want me to put on music?”
“What?”
“To set the mood.”
“Are you… not in the mood?” Akaashi’s eyes flitted around the room, at the candles and the fairy lights.
“No, no I am! I, gah, I could kiss you forever, probably, Akaashi,” Koutaro says and Akaashi’s breath hitches. Koutaro looks down at him and can’t help but run his thumb along Akaashi’s bottom lip. It’s pink and shiny from kissing. From kissing him. “I just… wanted everything to be perfect for you. And don’t they usually play music for things like these?”
“Do you usually play music when you have sex?” Akaashi asks.
“Um. Well, no. But like in the movies. You know?”
Akaashi laughs a little. He places his hand on Koutaro’s chest. “It’s already perfect, Bokuto-san.”
“You’re sure?”
Akaashi bites his lip and nods. Gently, Koutaro cups Akaashi’s cheek and tilts their faces back together. He kisses the corner of Akaashi’s mouth, then trails little kisses along his jaw, down his neck. Akaashi shifts his head, giving Koutaro access. Koutaro worries his teeth in one spot, sucking a little, not hard enough to bruise but enough that Akaashi gasps a little. He moves on, kissing that exposed collarbone he’d wanted to get his mouth on before, tasting the sweetness of Akaashi’s skin. Akaashi runs his hands down Koutaro’s back, trailing up into his hair again and tugging Koutaro’s face back together. Their lips meet again in a wet, open-mouthed kiss that fills Koutaro up.
Leaning on one elbow now, Koutaro settles his free hand over Akaashi’s ribs, his thumb running over the lines of the bones there through the soft material of his shirt. Akaashi’s hands run down Koutaro’s chest and settle at his waist, tugging just enough for Koutaro to get the idea to shift back over top of Akaashi. It surprises Koutaro when Akaashi’s hands go to his ass, pressing them close together. Koutaro rolls his hips, slowly, just to test, and hisses out a sigh when he feels that Akaashi’s getting just as hard as he is. He suddenly feels overheated; there’s too much space between them and he’s itching to take Akaashi’s clothes off.
Akaashi beats him to it though. His hands slide down to toy with the hem of Koutaro’s t-shirt, silently asking the question. Koutaro answers by sitting back on his heels. Akaashi follows and pushes the shirt all the way off, so Koutaro can pull it over his head and toss it onto the floor somewhere. So much for cleaning his room.
When Koutaro looks back down, Akaashi is staring. Koutaro can feel himself flush all over under Akaashi’s dark gaze.
“You can touch me, you know,” Koutaro says, which is stupid because of course Akaashi already knows that. He’d already groped Koutaro’s ass. Not that he’s complaining.
Akaashi reaches out and trails his fingers over the v that dips down below the waistline of Koutaro’s sweatpants. There’s a distracted look in his eyes. Focused and hungry.
“You’re very attractive, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi murmurs. Koutaro grins. He feels absolutely giddy.
“Yours too,” he says before he passes out from Akaashi calling him attractive. He shifts so Akaashi can sit up enough for Koutaro to tug his shirt over his head. Koutaro tosses the article onto the floor, as well. Akaashi’s hair comes out ridiculously ruffled and Koutaro smooths his fingers through it before he swoops down to him again.
This time, he slots one leg between Akaashi’s, pressing a bit and Akaashi grinds down on his thigh in response. Koutaro kisses his way back down Akaashi’s neck again, this time trialing further past his collarbones. He takes one of Akaashi’s nipples into his mouth, sucking lightly. The contact makes Akaashi groan and Koutaro glances up at him.
“You like that?”
“Mhmm,” Akaashi says.
Koutaro moves to the other, rolling his tongue over the sensitive spot
“Bokuto-san.” It comes out as a gasp and the sound goes straight to Koutaro’s dick. Akaashi’s fingers curl into Koutaro’s hair. He lifts himself up and kisses Akaashi again. “Bokuto-san.”
“Hmm?”
Akaashi turns his head a little, so Koutaro peppers light kisses over Akaashi’s cheek, waiting.
“Can I give you a blow job?”
Koutaro’s heart stops beating. He’s probably just passed away. From those words alone.
“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi’s voice sounds small and far away. Koutaro has to literally shake his head to bring himself back to life.
“Yeah! Yeah. I-if you want to.” Koutaro looks down at Akaashi. His eyes are wide and open, watching Koutaro with a frightening intensity. Koutaro swallows.
“I do.” Akaashi presses lightly at Koutaro’s should. “Lie back.”
Koutaro does. He props his head up on the pillow a bit to watch Akaashi settle himself between Koutaro’s legs. Akaashi looks very focused as he hooks his fingers in the waistband of Koutaro’s sweats, sliding them down along with his boxers. With a little help from Koutaro kicking his legs, Akaashi gets the rest of Koutaro’s clothes off and Koutaro is faced with the shocking reality that he’s laying completely naked and hard in his bed with Akaashi, Akaashi, his roommate, his best friend, the love of his life, about to give him a blow job.
“I’ve done this before,” Akaashi says, a little shy. “Once.”
“O-okay.” Koutaro tries not to think too hard about that, about who Akaashi might have given a blow job to.
It doesn’t matter anyway, because the moment Akaashi wraps his fingers around Koutaro’s cock, all thoughts leave Koutaro’s brain. Akaashi runs his thumb over the slit, gathering the moisture before slowly pumping a few times. Koutaro bites his lip as Akaashi lowers his mouth to Koutaro’s cock, licking the head a few times before swallowing him down.
“Fuck.” Koutaro hisses and his hands instinctually fall to Akaashi’s hair, burying in the damp curls there as Akaashi bobs his head up and down. The slick heat of Akaashi’s mouth feels so good, better than anything Koutaro’s felt before. The muscles in his stomach flex as fights the urge to thrust up. Akaashi must notice because he drapes one arm over Koutaro’s hips, lightly pinning him down. From this angle, his view of Akaashi’s mouth on him is a little blocked, but Koutaro is then faced with the entirely too enticing image of Akaashi pinning him down in different ways as he watches the muscles flex in Akaashi’s arms.
Koutaro’s panting and letting out soft moans as Akaashi’s mouth takes his cock in farther and father until the head hits the back of Akaashi’s throat. It’s so tight and so hot. Koutaro squeezes his eyes shut and hisses out Akaashi’s name, tugging a bit too hard on Akaashi’s hair as he desperately pulls his mouth off his cock.
Akaashi does, licking his lips and looking insanely hot. His pupils are blown wide, long eyelashes practically touching his cheeks as he looks up at Koutaro.
“Was that bad?” He asks, his voice a little hoarse from sucking Koutaro’s dick.
“No, no,” Koutaro says, pulling Akaashi back up so he’s on top of Koutaro. He winces a bit as the fabric of Akaashi’s pants brush his cock, but Koutaro needs to kiss him. “No, it was perfect.”
Akaashi pulls back a little, lips puffy and red, looking as though he’s about to ask a question, but Koutaro cuts him off.
“I didn’t want to come yet,” he says and Akaashi’s lips curl into a little smile. “We’re not done yet.”
“But it was okay?” Akaashi asks. He’s straddling Koutaro’s hips now, leaning down so their foreheads are pressed together. Koutaro closes his eyes, pressing his thumbs against the sharp curve of Akaashi’s hipbones and trying to get ahold of himself.
“Fuck. Yeah. It was awesome.”
Akaashi smiles against Koutaro’s lips, a little huff of a laugh coming out.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Akaashi says, but he’s still laughing a little as he closes the distance between them to kiss Koutaro. There’s a slight bitter taste to Akaashi’s mouth now that Koutaro realizes is the taste of himself and then Koutaro feels like he might spin off the face of the planet entirely, so he flexes his fingers along the planes of Akaashi’s back. Akaashi shivers at the touch, sighing into Koutaro’s mouth when he accidentally presses his nails too hard. Then, he’s rolling his hips against Koutaro’s again and Koutaro can’t help but feel like he’s not really doing anything to help Akaashi have sex for the first time, so he shifts them again so Akaashi’s flat on his back
“Can I take these off?” Koutaro asks when Akaashi shifts and the material of his pants brushes against Koutaro’s dick, making him wince. Akaashi blinks a few times without responding and Koutaro is about to rush out a hastily apology and that he’ll find some other way to make this work without taking Akaashi’s pants off, but then Akaashi says yes, and he gives this little nod of encouragement until Koutaro hooks his fingers under the waistband of Akaashi’s sweats and pulls them down.
Koutaro follows them down, kissing along the line of fine hair on Akaashi’s belly. He’s distracted and Akaashi’s foot gets a little tangled in one of the pant legs, so there’s a brief moment of battle with the clothes, but they’re laughing, and it feels like the most natural thing to be here in bed with Akaashi. Once the pants are gone, Koutaro can see Akaashi and look at him.
There had always been glances before, ashamed and hiding and embarrassed in the locker room while they were in high school. But now, Akaashi’s stretched out on his bed, surrounded by rose petals and soft light and he’s so pretty. The lines of his muscles have softened since quitting volleyball, but there’s still definition there, along the slim lines of his waist, and his cock is pink and flushed and hard because of him, because of Koutaro. A small voice in the back of Koutaro’s head reminds him that this is just for practice, but it’s drowned out by the sight of the faint freckles splashed over Akaashi’s chest and a darker mole dotted over his left hipbone.
Koutaro leans down to kiss the spot, trailing his fingers over Akaashi’s belly, his ribs. He glances up at his roommate to find Akaashi’s got one arm thrown over his face. His chest is heaving, just a bit.
“You don’t have to look at me like that,” Akaashi says.
“I can’t help it,” Koutaro says, lips skating over soft skin as he makes his way back to Akaashi’s mouth. “I told you, you’re the most beautiful boy in the world.”
Akaashi snorts a little, lifting his arm away from his face. Koutaro props his chin on Akaashi’s chest. “You said ‘most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen before’. You’ve seen every other boy in the world?”
Koutaro nods, gravely serious. “Mhm. You’re the prettiest.”
Akaashi’s cheeks are pink and warm, but he threads a hand through Koutaro’s hair again. They kiss, getting lost in the feeling. Akaashi’s tongue is in Koutaro’s mouth, licking over his teeth. Koutaro hardly notices Akaashi shifting under him until he feels the cold plastic of the lube bottle slipping into Koutaro’s hand.
“Okay,” Koutaro says, more to himself than Akaashi as he steels his nerves. He glances up at Akaashi. “Do you wanna be on top? Or do you want me to.”
Akaashi blinks at him. “Um. You should.”
Koutaro nods and clicks the bottle of lube open with his thumb. Subconsciously (or not so subconsciously, if Koutaro was being honest with himself), Koutaro had imagined it going this way.
“You’re sure?” Koutaro asks, lifting up to kiss the tip of Akaashi’s nose.
“Yeah.” Akaashi’s voice sounds wrecked.
Koutaro delivers one more kiss to Akaashi’s mouth, then slides down between his legs. He drops a kiss over Akaashi’s navel and hips. His mouth ghosts just over the tip of Akaashi’s cock and Koutaro revels in the sharp inhale Akaashi makes. The insides of Akaashi’s thighs are pale and the skin is soft under Koutaro’s mouth and he can’t resist sinking his teeth in, just a bit, worrying a spot that’s sure to leave a mark.
“Koutaro,” Akaashi gasps, hands flying down to sink into Koutaro’s hair, and Koutaro gets hot all over again at the use of his given name. He laves his tongue over the mark he’s left, then buries his face against Akaashi’s thigh, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a minute for the urge to grind down on the mattress to go away.
“Okay. I’m going to prep you,” Koutaro says when he can get his mouth to work again. Have you done this to yourself before?”
Akaashi turns his head into the pillow as he nods. “A little.”
“Just- just tell me if it hurts. Or if you want me to stop.”
The lube is cool and slick as Koutaro spreads it around his fingers. Once it’s warm, Koutaro brings his hand down to lightly press against Akaashi’s hole. Akaashi makes a little noise in surprise and Koutaro murmurs an apology. He lowers himself onto one elbow and kisses the curve of Akaashi’s hipbone.
“Okay?” He asks, eyes flicking up to Akaashi. Akaashi nods. The fingers in Koutaro’s hair relax a bit. Koutaro lowers his head again and sucks at the skin by Akaashi’s hip as he slowly pushes the first finger in, just to the first knuckle. It’s mind-numbingly tight. Koutaro feels like he might lose his mind if he pushes further, so he just works his finger slowly back and forth with the space he has.
Akaashi begins to relax, bit by bit, letting Koutaro’s whole finger inside. Koutaro pumps it in and out a few more times, listening to the sound of Akaashi’s breaths coming quickly. He can’t help his eyes wandering to Akaashi’s dick. It’s flushed and gorgeous, bouncing against his stomach. A dot of pre-come is dripping from the tip and Koutaro aches to put his mouth on it.
“Talk to me ‘Kaashi. How are you doing?”
“Good. Ah. You can- you can add another.”
Something hot coils in Koutaro’s stomach at the sound of Akaashi’s breathless voice. His free hand, which had been stoking over Akaashi’s thigh, blindly reaches out for the lube and Koutaro applies a liberal amount onto his fingers. He adds a second finger, gently pressing in. Akaashi lets out a soft moan. Koutaro finally, finally, leans over and takes the head of Akaashi’s cock in his mouth to distract him. It’s hot and heavy on his tongue and Koutaro feels dizzy. He pulls off to suck lightly on the shaft as he focuses on working his fingers into Akaashi. Then he fingers brush against a small bump and Akaashi jumps under Koutaro’s touch.
Akaashi whines as Koutaro works his fingers over the spot. He leans back so he can watch the way Akaashi’s features twist up.
“Bokuto-san, please.” Akaashi gasps, back arching off the mattress.
“Sorry, sorry,” Koutaro says. He kisses Akaashi’s thing and eases up his ministrations. “You look so good like this.”¬
“Hah. Thank you. Please, I need—”
“I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”
“Come here,” Akaashi says.
It takes a little maneuvering, but Koutaro manages to shift up over Akaashi’s body. Akaashi hands clasp on the back of Koutaro’s neck, pulling him down for a sloppy kiss as Koutaro continues to work his fingers inside him. It’s probably the hottest thing that’s ever happened to Koutaro.
As they continue to kiss, Koutaro works a third finger into Akaashi. Akaashi, in turn, gasps into Koutaro’s mouth and digs his nails into his shoulder blades. Koutaro scissors his fingers together, twisting his wrist. His fingers rub against Akaashi’s prostate again and Akaashi lets out a strangled cry into Koutaro’s mouth. As though he does it without thinking, Akaashi wraps one leg over Koutaro’s back, pressing them flush together.
“I’m ready.” Akaashi pants into Koutaro’s mouth.
“You sure?” Koutaro asks, despite his own erection screaming for release and begging for attention. He doesn’t want to risk hurting Akaashi like this. Akaashi nods, sagging away from Koutaro to fall back on the pillow. A blind hand reaches over to the bedside table to grab the condom Koutaro had left out. Akaashi passes the foil to Koutaro. He takes it, sitting back on his heels to watch his finger sink into Akaashi a few more tomes before he’s satisfied.
Akaashi squirms a bit as Koutaro pulls his hand away. It takes Koutaro a few deep breaths before his hands are steady enough to hold the condom properly. Then, of course, his hands are too slick from the lube to rip it open. He curses a few times before Akaashi rises up on his knees in front of Koutaro. Akaashi gently takes the foil package from Koutaro’s hands and rips it open himself. His hands are steady as he rolls it onto Koutaro’s cock. Koutaro bites his lip at the feeling.
“That okay?” Akaashi asks, looking back up at Koutaro. One hand stays on Koutaro’s cock, slowly stroking it.
“Yeah,” Koutaro says. He cups Akaashi’s face in his hands and kisses him. He tries to pour everything he’s feeling into Akaashi’s mouth, to show him how much he loves him. “How do you want to do this?”
Akaashi kisses Koutaro’s lips one more time, then his cheeks, and the tip of his nose. Then, he lays back on his back and lets his knees fall apart. “I want to see you.”
Koutaro swallows thickly.
“You don’t have to look so nervous,” Akaashi says, even though he looks just as nervous. Koutaro adds some more lube to his dick, coating the surface, and then settles his palms on the mattress by Akaashi’s shoulders to brace himself over him. Koutaro grins.
“I’m not nervous, ‘Kaashi. I’m an afficionado,” he says. Akaashi snorts. Koutaro guides himself towards Akaashi’s hole. “Was that the right word?”
“Yes. Bokuto-san.” Akaashi’s still laughing a little, in that way he does that looks like he’s struggling to hide his amusement. His legs fully fall to the side and drapes his arms over Koutaro’s shoulders. Koutaro presses their lips together in another kiss as he presses inside.
Akaashi gasps into Koutaro’s mouth as he bottoms out. It’s tight and hot and so perfect. Koutaro drops his head to Akaashi’s shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to orient himself.
“Shit,” Koutaro says. “You feel so good.” He presses open mouthed kisses to Akaashi’s collarbone, letting the feeling surround him. “Tell me when it’s okay.”
Akaashi nod, his cheek rubbing against Koutaro. He listens to the soft, breathy sounds Akaashi’s making. It’s overwhelming. Koutaro thinks he might die if he can’t move, but he holds himself still until Akaashi adjust.
Still, it feels like an eternity before Akaashi says he’s okay.
“Move, Bokuto-san, please,” Akaashi says after Koutaro waits for another moment longer.
Koutaro starts off slow, rocking back and forth a few times to let Akaashi adjust to the feeling. He’s pretty sure that then, his mind leaves his body, because once Akaashi arches his back and moans, it’s over for Koutaro.
He leans back, separating his and Akaashi’s bodies to give him some room to breathe as he begins to pick up the pace of his thrusts. Akaashi hand flails out, searching for Koutaro’s. He grabs it, threading their fingers together and holding their joined hands between him as he grips one of Akaashi’s thighs with his other hand to change the angle of his thrusts. The change makes Akaashi toss his head back and cry out. Koutaro dips down again and kisses the hollow of Akaashi’s throat.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
The words are rattling behind Koutaro’s teeth and beating out of his chest. He focuses on the feeling of sliding into Akaashi, the physical feeling only.
It doesn’t take long for Akaashi to fall apart, though. He’s crying out Koutaro’s name and squeezes onto Koutaro’s hand.
“I’ve got you,” Koutaro says. He lets go of Akaashi’s thigh to wrap around his cock, instead. It only takes two, three pumps before Akaashi finishes. the grip he has on Koutaro’s hand as he comes across his stomach. He’s so beautiful; Koutaro’s chest is tight, he feels like he can’t breathe.
Koutaro slows his thrusts when Akaashi begins to whine with overstimulation. He’s panting, pliant and exhausted, as he lets his fingers drop from Koutaro’s. He shivers when Koutaro slips out of him.
Carefully, trying not to disturb him, Koutaro curls on his side next to Akaashi, pressing a light kiss to his shoulder as he watches Akaashi come down from his high.
“That was,” Akaashi says, “so much.”
“In a good way or a bad way?” Koutaro asks. He’s not quite sure where to go from here. They’ve finished what Akaashi had wanted. He doesn’t want to push the boundary of what Akaashi wants.
Akaashi shifts so he’s facing Koutaro. There’s a blissed-out smile on his face and he looks so pretty. Koutaro can’t help but reach out to brush a stray curl off Akaashi’s forehead. Akaashi leans into the touch.
“A good way,” Akaashi says. His eyes blink open. He glances down at Koutaro. “You didn’t finish.”
“I wanted to make sure you felt good,” Koutaro says.
Akaashi reaches out and touches Koutaro’s cheek, sliding his fingers through Koutaro’s hair. “I do. Can I help?”
Akaashi’s eyes fall down again to where Koutaro’s dick is still hard against his stomach. The shyness Akaashi had had in the beginning is gone when Koutaro nods. Akaashi takes the condom off Koutaro’s cock, which Koutaro normally would’ve opposed to, but his brain flatlines again when Akaashi wraps his long fingers around Koutaro.
Their foreheads were nearly pressed together on one pillow as Akaashi began to stroke. It’s a little dry, more than Koutaro would like, but Akaashi deigns to spit in the palm of his hand and probably the hottest thing that Koutaro’s ever seen as Akaashi brings his hand down to add more moisture to his grip. Akaashi’s always had beautiful hands; Koutaro can remember, years ago, getting caught staring at how long and graceful Akaashi’s fingers were and hastily saying he was jealous that Akaashi’s hands were bigger than his own because he was embarrassed to admit he’d been picturing those slender fingers doing exactly what they’re doing now.
Akaashi twists his wrist just right and Koutaro lets out a strangled cry. The sound falls into Akaashi’s mouth and then he’s kissing Koutaro as he swipes the pad of his thumb over Koutaro’s slit.
“Ah, could you.” Koutaro pants. “Could you. Um, a little tighter?”
Akaashi hums and obliges.
It doesn’t take much longer for Koutaro to finish, hand gripping Akaashi’s forearm as he comes wetly over his stomach and the blankets. Akaashi kisses him through it, murmuring nonsensical words that sink into Koutaro’s skin. His free hand pushes through Koutaro’s hair, a little damp with sweat. Koutaro’s eyes flutter open to find Akaashi looking back with a very solemn face.
“Um, thanks,” Koutaro says. The words are scratchy. It’s takes an effort to swallow the words he actually wants to say. He can’t really think with the gentle way Akaashi is still playing with his hair. He sits up, feeling stiff and sore and cold. The blankets are a bunched-up mess and Koutaro’s heat is beating too fast in his chest. “Let me… I’m going to clean up. Just wait. I’ll be right back.”
Koutaro trips over his feet a little as he rushes out of the room. He had an intention, probably, when he got up but once he’s in the too bright hallway, he can’t remember.
He and Akaashi had sex. They had sex. For practice.
Koutaro sags against the wall, trying to resist to slide to the floor because he’s still very much naked and he’s not that pathetic to sit on the floor naked and cry. Even if that’s what he desperately wants to do.
After gulping down several deep breaths, Koutaro pulls himself together enough to go to the bathroom to clean himself off. He wastes some more time by switching his laundry over into the dryer, then pads cautiously back into his room.
Akaashi’s sitting up in bed, the blankets pooled around his waist. He’s staring off at something and Koutaro desperately wants to crawl back on the bed and kiss him, but he can’t because this was for practice and it’s over now. Koutaro lingers in the doorway, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat.
In the dim light, he watches a single tear slide down Akaashi’s cheek.
“Akaashi?” Koutaro says softly.
Akaashi’s head whips around, eyes wide with surprise. He sniffs once; the tear drops from his jaw.
“Akaashi, what’s wrong?” Koutaro comes to sit on the bed. He fights internally with himself, before letting himself wipe away the dampness on Akaashi’s cheek. Akaashi’s nose wrinkles a little and he won’t look at Koutaro. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, Bokuto-san. Don’t worry about me.” Akaashi’s words are soft and tight. He still won’t look at Koutaro. He’s twisting his fingers in the blankets around is waist. Koutaro wants to take them and hold them.
“Did I hurt you?” Koutaro asks, eyebrows pinching together with concern. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
“No, Bokuto, you’re fine.” The words trail off as Akaashi sobs. He presses his fingers his mouth, as if he’s trying to keep the sound in. A few more tears spill over his cheeks. Koutaro feels panic begin to well in his chest, pooling with desperation. But he waits for Akaashi to steady his breathing and wipe hastily at his cheeks to dry them. “It’s nothing you did. You’re perfect and that was perfect.”
“But…” Koutaro prompts. His blood feels cold in his veins.
“This is my fault, I shouldn’t have suggested doing this,” Akaashi says. Koutaro pinches his thigh as he holds himself back from crying himself.
He knows.
Akaashi knows that Koutaro’s in love with him and feels guilty, now. Of course, Akaashi would feel guilty; he feels like he used Koutaro, but really, it’s Koutaro’s fault for not being up front. Koutaro opens his mouth to say something, to apologize for himself, but Akaashi shakes his head.
“I knew Myaa-sam suggested it as a joke, but I kept thinking about it,” Akaashi continues, and Koutaro feels sick with the mention of Miya Osamu. Still, he waits Akaashi out. “I kept thinking about asking you to sleep with me would be the only way I’d be able to have you. Even if it was just once, even if you were just doing a favor for me.” Wait, what? “But you’re so perfect, and sweet and considerate. I mean,” Akaashi gestures wildly around the room and laughs, a little dejected, “look at this, you did this for me and it’s beautiful. I thought I could have you once and be satisfied enough to move on. But how can I? You’re incredible, Bokuto-san, how can I just move on? You’re incredible and I’m in love with you and now I’ve messed everything up.”
A record scratches Koutaro’s brain to a halt. He can’t move, can’t breathe. The only thing in his mind is the words I’m in love with you bouncing around his brain like a giant screensaver.
It’s only when he registers a few more tears silently sliding down Akaashi’s cheeks that he comes back to reality. He reaches out, finally, to take Akaashi’s hands in his own, squeezing them.
“Say that again,” Koutaro says and Akaashi blinks. His fingers twitch against Kotuaro’s palms.
“Say what again?”
“That last part. Say it again.”
A veil falls over Akaashi’s eyes and his words are cold as he says, “I love you, Bokuto-san.”
“You mean that?” Koutaro asks. “For real?”
Something sparks behind Akaashi’s dark eyes. He looks nervous, scared even. He nods one, slowly.
Koutaro lifts Akaashi’s hands to his mouth and kisses his knuckles. He feels like he might float away and Akaashi’s hands are the only thing keeping him on the ground. Akaashi is still staring at him with wide eyes and Koutaro lets out a soft chuckle.
“I’ve been in love with you forever, ‘Kaashi,” Koutaro says and Akaashi’s eyes go even wide. “Probably since I met you.
Akaashi shakes his head a little and then Koutaro is pulling Akaashi into his arms, wrapping his arms around him and holding him as close as he can. The angle is a little awkward and Akaashi’s face is a little smushed against his chest, but Koutaro needs to hold him, needs to show him, how much he loves him.
They stay like that for a while, until Akaashi wriggles himself free. Instead of separating themselves completely, Akaashi crawls onto Koutaro’s lap, wrapping his legs around Koutaro’s waist and draping his arms over Koutaro’s shoulders. Koutaro takes the opportunity to cover Akaashi’s face in kisses until he’s smiling again.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Akaashi whispers.
Koutaro presses one final kiss to Akaashi’s eyebrows and leans back enough to be able to see his face.
“Akaashi, why would you be in loved with me? You’re so smart! And talented! You deserved someone way better than me.” Koutaro says it in a lighthearted tone but there is some real anxiety swirling in his stomach.
Akaashi, to his credit, doesn’t notice and laughs.
“That’s a silly reason, Koutaro,” Akaashi says. He leans forward to slot their lips together. “You should’ve said something.”
“You should’ve too,” Koutaro mumbles against Akaashi’s mouth. He drags his hands up Akaashi’s back, trailing his fingers over the bumps in Akaashi’s spine. “So, you really didn’t have a thing for Miya Osamu?”
Akaashi laughs again. His eye’s go all squinty and the corners wrinkle when he laughs. It’s Koutaro’s favorite expression that Akaashi makes.
“I really didn’t think for Miya Osamu.” Akaashi tugs gently at Koutaro’s hair. “Although I was a little jealous how you were staring at his arms the other day.”
“He’s got nice arms!” Koutaro exclaimed. “You were jealous? Over me?”
“Enough, Bokuto-san.”
“Can you call me Koutaro again?”
“Enough, Koutaro.”
Kozume Kenma
>> 13:08 how did it go w keji??
<< gr8!!!
<> :)
>> good
>> kuro says he told you so