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[It’s a lot darker without you
Autocorrect and scouting agents
When I think of you I think of starlight
I’m sorry
I think I need you]
<>
Bokuto drinks from the water bottle until it’s concave and crinkled and empty, wipes the sweat from his forehead and thinks; I think I need you.
What a horrible goodbye it has been – unceremonious and unplanned, a wave of the hand and an “I’ll catch you later!” But they didn’t – he didn’t – he texted and texted, admittedly less after the first few weeks and the doldrums of university had set in, but the texts back were less still. Until finally: “Damn I hate the taste of pineapple” sat at the bottom of their message thread, three- almost four weeks old.
Perhaps Akaashi had nothing to say to him anymore.
Later, frustrated, Bokuto throws his phone down on his bed and grabs his pillow, stuffing his face into it and opening his mouth to scream –
Only to find himself suddenly out of breath.
When he’s calmed down he thinks; I probably should have talked to him about this while we were both still in high school. He supposes he didn’t have the words back then; he doesn’t really have them now. When he left home, his mother had hugged him and ruffled his hair, had a look in her eyes that made him feel like now was the time to say something he really meant. Instead, he’d grinned and said, “See you!”
Maybe he was just homesick?
<>
He doesn’t call – or text or message or anything. He just shows up outside his old school, outside the exit Akaashi usually took, at around the time practice usually finished. The sun is low and the air is cool. He’s expecting to see not just him but a number of old teammates, and although he’s excited, the former has put a twist of anxiety through him. He is bouncing on his toes and chewing his lip when he hears footsteps.
Just one pair. Not the stampede he was expecting. When he looks up –
Akaashi, lit with the evening sun, one hand in his pocket and the other holding his phone – he’s looking at it and sighing, and putting it in his other pocket and looking up and
Akaashi is looking at him
And it’s been two months
“Keiji!”
After the slightest pause and widening of his eyes, Akaashi smiles. “Bokuto-san. What are you doing here?”
He was meant to chat normally with him, he was meant to act casual and ask him if they could grab some dinner together. They were meant to eat, catch up on all the insignificant things, and then – and then Bokuto was going to say what he still hadn’t found the words for. It didn’t quite happen like that.
“Ke – “ Bokuto started, interrupted by a strange sound, a movement of his throat. A rush of heat and tears hits him as he tries to speak. Akaashi’s eyes widen immediately, and he rushes over and moves a hand out as if to touch Bokuto.
“Bokuto, what’s wrong?” He asks, urgency and worry pinching at his usually calm and beautiful features.
Bokuto brings a hand to his cheek, finding it wet.
A whisper. “Bokuto, the others will be coming soon.”
He blinks, taking a while to comprehend. Then he nods, and just like that Akaashi’s hand is at his elbow, guiding him away from the entrance, away from the school. After a moment Bokuto realises he’s taking him to the park a block over, and he gives himself that time to feel the warmth of Akaashi’s palm and the warmth of the sun. They’re not all that different.
He’s seated on a swing and Akaashi is knealing before him, looking up, hands on Bokuto’s knees to keep him steady, a question in his eyes.
He finds his voice
“I miss you,” Bokuto says, “more than I should.”
He thought – he thought he’d be struggling all evening, saying the wrong thing seven times before saying one right thing, putting his foot in his mouth and desperately hoping Akaashi understood him anyway, but
he missed him
more than he should
It was easy, in the end.
Akaashi is before him – bewildered and caught off guard, and Bokuto smiles.
“Respond to my messages, would you?”
Akaashi’s grip on his knees had gotten tight at some point. Slowly the pressure lessens.
“Yeah.” Akaashi says. “If that’s what want – if you –“
Bokuto leans down, and although it’s fast and sudden, he finds Akaashi closing the very last of the gap – and it's like
They kiss. Just like that.
Starlight
“That’s… what I want.” Bokuto says.
Akaashi face is ever so slightly flushed. He’s beautiful, Bokuto thinks.
“I stopped responding because I thought it would hurt less if I… did that first. I thought it would hurt less than hanging on to you.”
Bokuto pouts, “Hey, how’d you think it made me feel?”
Akaashi smiles at his indignant expression. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
Akaashi’s hand moves through his hair and Bokuto can’t help but be calmed by it. He closes his eyes and hums, happy, tearful, and quite possibly in love.