Archive of Our Own

There are exactly four things Akaashi loves. Punctuality, consistency, the quiet, and classical music.

Cats & Crows Coffee Co, combines all four perfectly. Usually. Which is why for the last year and two months Akaashi has found himself in the same seat in the corner, eating the same sandwich, and sipping on the same cold matcha with oat milk while he slaved away on a new assignment.

On a teacher’s salary (assistant teacher at that), he probably shouldn’t be spending so much money every week on takeout. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to cook……well….

Whatever, it’s consistent and easy, and quiet too. There’s no reason why he can’t indulge himself five days of the week to an enjoyable afternoon.

It starts on a Friday, which would usually be a good thing in his book. Class ends early, and he would be jumping for joy if he hadn’t almost slept through his alarm and forgotten his umbrella. Of course the ever so confusing Japan weather decides that today of all days is when the sun will perish beneath gray clouds, weeping all over the innocent civilians walking to their cars or trying to get home. Aforementioned teacher’s salary is why Akaashi doesn’t have a car, or a louder alarm clock, actually. On any other day, he would love a chance to walk in the rain, put his headphones in and take in the smell of it in the air. 

But today he is soaked, tired, and more than irritated when he steps through the paw print decorated doorway. It jingles thrice as he does his best to shake off some of the accumulating water that has pooled into the bottom of his socks. His glasses are entirely too fogged up to even begin to see, so he slips off his soaking coat for the slightly less wet sweater underneath, and begins scrubbing at the glass with pent up aggression.

“Yo, look who the cat dragged in. Or maybe you got swept up by a flood? You look like a wet cat yourself.” A voice calls from behind the counter. Fortunately, Akaashi doesn’t need his glasses to know who the cringe greeting is coming from. He returns them to his face with a deep sigh.

“Hello to you too Kuroo.” Kuroo hands him a soft towel from behind the register, and watches him with a chuckle as he wipes off his face. “No Kenma today..?” Akaashi peers behind the counter, searching for his usual coffee companion only to find an absence of any workers.

As if on cue, there’s a loud bang in the back. Accompanied by some laughter and what he is sure can only be the sound of Lev screaming for his life.

“No Kenma indeed. They would definitely be dead by now.” Kuroo grimaces. “We have a new hire, so he’s taking over some of Kenma’s shifts while we train him.” Akaashi ponders it over for a moment.

“I thought you had plenty of people who already work here….? How come the need for more employees?” He questions, watching Kuroo instinctively type in his order. 

“Yeahhhhh….wellllll….” Kuroo glances anywhere but Akaashi’s eyes. “He needed a job, and I love the guy to death, but nobody else was gonna hire him anytime soon.”

“That doesn’t sound very good.” Akaashi deadpans. He’s speaking both about the situation, and also whatever is going on in the back. Kuroo finishes typing his order, not even needing to read it back to him. They’ve been over this a million times by now, so Akaashi swipes his card and hits the 20% tip button before lazily signing the ipad. His parents used to tell him he has a doctors’ handwriting. He wonders if that was their sad attempt to get him to become one, or a silent beg for him to improve his cursive.

He can hear the sound of the ticket chirp out the printer in the back, and surprisingly the noise halts.

“Well I’d better go see what they’re up to back there. Can’t have any more fires in this damn establishment.” Akaashi quirks an eyebrow up.

“More..?” He beckons. The answer doesn’t come, but two overpowering sets of footsteps do. And from behind the curtain the tall, familiar frame of Lev comes into view, bumping his head on the top of the doorway. 

“SHIT!” Lev yelps, massaging the red spot as the other man barges past him.

“Kuroo! You said I could make the next ticket! Please, please, please, please, PLEASE!!!” 

Akaashi takes a second to take him all in. The other man (who must be Kuroo’s new hire, because Akaashi sure as hell would’ve remembered seeing that before) is well over 6 foot, with a thick, burly build. He’s sporting what Akaashi recognizes to be the old Cats & Crows apron, because it’s a slightly darker shade of green, and still has what Kenma referred to as “a fucking vulture” instead of the now reformed tiny black birds perched atop Kuroo’s apron pocket. The man’s hair is just as ridiculous as Kuroo’s actually, if he’s being completely honest, and it makes him laugh a little when a particularly wispy piece of the aerodynamic white and black streaks falls over his face.

Bright brown, almost hazel-gold eyes stop dead in their tracks at the sight of Akaashi, dripping, tired, and chuckling before them.

“Oh.” The man stuns, jaw dropping a bit. Kuroo glances back over his shoulder, and then smirks heavily, in the way he always does when he’s up to something. Akaashi wishes Kenma were here.

“Right! Akaashi, this is our new hire, Bokuto. Bokuto, you know what, I will let you take this order. You need the experience right? Right?” Kuroo prods. Bokuto (whom Akaashi has just learned has an equally loud name fit for an equally loud individual) stays rooted in shock, staring at Akaashi before Kuroo can yank both him and Lev into the back. Akaashi laughs again, and this time, someone else exits the curtain.

“Ah, figures you’re here.”

“Hello Tsukishima. How have you been?” Akaashi leans forward against the counter, dusting off more water from his hair.

“Well, it’s been interesting that’s for sure.” Tsukishima doesn’t look him in the eye as he slowly measures the ice into a medium sized cup. “I see you’ve met Bokuto.” He grimaces. 

“I don’t know if staring counts as meeting him, but yes.” Tsukishima pours the oat milk and swirls the cup in his hands. Just like Akaashi likes it.

“Bokuto is just like that…don’t mind it.”

“Oh. Did you know him before working here?” Akaashi questions. Tsukishima makes another face and begins to whisk the matcha fervently.

“Unfortunately.” He whines.

“Oh come on, he doesn’t seem that bad.” 

As if on cue, there’s more yelling coming from the back. This time it’s definitely Lev, probably getting screamed at for screwing up yet another order. Bless his heart, he should not be allowed anywhere near the kitchen. He can, however, make a mean latte.

“Can’t we chat about something else? You know how I hate small talk.” Tsukishima sets down the cup in front of him with a bit of attitude. Akaashi smiles awkwardly.

“How’s Yamaguchi?” 

Tsukishima’s face turns one shade brighter as he tries to bite back a smile.

“Go sit down and drink this before I decide to spit in it or something.” He shoves the cup forward with force. It’s a good thing that at this hour of the day the cafe is usually mostly deserted, because to any other customer this might look like harassment. Fortunately, Akaashi has known Tsukishima for the greater half of the past year, and has come to quite like his pointedness. 

“Send him my regards then. I hope you two are well.” Akaashi flippantly turns, trying not to seem too pleased when he hears Tsukishima mutter back a ‘We’re great, thank you.’.

His seat in the corner is empty, just like always. And it feels nice to finally sit down after pacing around a lecture hall for the first 3 hours of his morning. He has another class later in the evening, but that’s later Akaashi’s problem. Current Akaashi is settling into the cushions of the armchair and sipping on the perfectly brewed matcha. Despite his blunt personality, Tsukishima is awfully good at knowing exactly how people like their drinks. He was quickly promoted to lead barista within a few measly months of working here. Although, the group they have makes that seem like an easier task.

It’s mere seconds after opening his laptop that the same burly man comes bouncing out of the back, plate in hand.

Akaashi gulps.

Bokuto is smiling with an intense sense of pride as he approaches Akaashi’s table. And with him a lot closer, it’s ten times more difficult to deny how attractive he is. 

Cats & Crows is known for having decently attractive workers. Akaashi would be lying if he said it wasn’t part of what drew him here in the first place. Having some eye candy while you eat is never bad. But Kuroo has Kenma, and Tsukishima is dating this sweet businessman from a few buildings over. Lev is a mess for lack of a better word, and he’s actually pretty sure him and Yaku have some weird kind of flirty rivalry going on, so he’s never dipped his toes into that pool of hot water. The people here who are single, are just not personally his cup of tea, and it’s not like Akaashi is looking but-

“Hi!”

“Oh, hi.” Akaashi glances up, much higher up than he’s used to.

“I’m Bokuto. What’s your name? Are you from around here? Do you come here often? Oh shit, here’s your food! Kuroo told me you eat the same thing every day, so I decided to spice things up a little! Go on, try it!” Bokuto talks faster than Akaashi can think, and by the time his brain makes it to the end of the sentence Bokuto has already sat down beside him, plate pushed gingerly in front of his lap.

“Spice things up…?” Akaashi begins, staring down at the sandwich. It doesn’t look too bad. Maybe he just meant make it spicier…? It doesn’t appear much different from what he usually orders, but he’s still inspecting the food carefully when Bokuto slides into his frame of vision.

“I’m Bokuto, by the way. Bokuto Koutarou.” He gleams.

“I know.”

“Oh right, I just told you that….okay well what’s your name?” 

“Are you always this friendly..?” Akaashi falters with his cup, and Bokuto frowns. 

“Not to everyone, you’re awfully pretty though. And I made you a special sandwich!” 

Halfway into a sip, Akaashi almost chokes. Pretty? Is he….hitting on me??? What the fuck. 

“Um….my name is Akaashi……thank you?” Akaashi taps his finger on the edge of the plate. “So what did you do to it?” He blinks up at Bokuto, who’s staring at him just as intently as he was when he first walked in.

“It’s a surprise~” The man sings, and Akaashi notices a small audience beginning to grow from behind the counter. “Come on! If you don’t like it, I’ll even remake it. Free of charge .” He leans awfully close, and whispers (as loudly as a certain Bokuto Koutarou can) into Akaashi’s ear.

Hot guy asking me to try his cooking? Hm, what’s the worst that could happen.

With eyes gleaming, Bokuto ushers him. Akaashi tries his best to not break into a flustered sweat as he takes half of the sandwich to his mouth and bites down. Though he would much rather be taking a bite of something else right about now.

“Is it good???” Bokuto eagerly leans forward, much too close for someone to do to a stranger, and Akaashi chews. 

It doesn’t taste different from what he usually gets. He can taste the tomatoes and pesto and-

……………….something salty…? 

It’s not bad but, familiar?

He sets the sandwich down and tries to place where he’s tasted it before. It’s not sour, so not something pickled? But it has a briney taste that Akaashi can’t put his finger on. His curiosity gets the better of him, and he goes to pull off the top piece of bread, but a hand stops him.

“Wait, wait! You have to guess!!!” Bokuto kicks his feet back and forth in the chair. Akaashi is about to open his mouth to reply when he’s hit with a burning sensation in the back of his throat.

“You added s-pice to th-is..?” Akaashi coughs out, placing the sandwich down quickly, and attempting to take a sip of his drink. Bokuto’s face drops almost as quickly as it had formed.

“No?” He frowns. Akaashi is trying to wash the burning sensation away, but the matcha isn’t helping, and somehow it feels like his throat is closing up.

Oh my god.

Akaashi pales, his eyes widen, and Bokuto must suddenly sense something is wrong, because he places a big, hefty hand onto his left shoulder. And wow, his hands are huge? Holy shit. Wait, no, there is a more important issue at hand.

“Olives???” Akaashi squeaks out through raspy breaths. “Is it olives?????”

“Yes! But, you don’t….look so good…” 

Somewhere across the shop he can hear scrambling, and suddenly Tsukishima and Kuroo are at the table shoving the plate out of the way.

“SHIT BO! YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” Kuroo screams, he pulls Bokuto up and away from Akaashi, who’s currently coughing and attempting to scratch his way through his bag. Tsukishima’s immediately at his side.

“Where is it Keiji? Front pocket? Just point okay, try to take steady breaths.” He digs through the front and back pockets with shaky hands.

“What’s wrong!?!?” Bokuto cries, eyes quickly scanning Akaashi, and then the forgotten sandwich, and back at Akaashi. “WHAT HAPPENED??”

“HE’S ALLERGIC TO OLIVES YOU DUMBASS!” Kuroo and Tsukishima both screech.

Bokuto looks like he could’ve been the one currently having an allergic reaction with the face he’s making. If this weren’t a more serious situation, Akaashi might’ve even laughed. But he’s starting to feel a bit dizzy, and his throat hurts so bad .

“B-l-Eugh in the- black ba-g.” Akaashi struggles out, grabbing a pencil case from underneath the pile of essays he has to grade by the end of the weekend, and tossing it to Tsukishima. It doesn’t take long for him to locate the epi-pen, after all it is a horrid shade of neon yellow compared to the other earth-toned writing equipment. In the background he’s pretty sure he can make out the sounds of Lev crying and asking if he should call an ambulance.

God, that would not be a fun night.

Thankfully, and with no precision at all, Tsukishima shoves up his pant leg (Akaashi is suddenly very grateful he chose to wear sweats in his post-alarm rush), and stabs the epi-pen into his left thigh.

Akaashi coughs bitterly, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes, his hand is subconsciously digging into the arm of Kuroo.

The following minute is capsized by almost utter silence, save for the shaky breathing of Akaashi, and the sound of pacing footsteps as Kuroo wonders how bad a death claim would be to file on a small business. Once he can get an even breath in, Akaashi’s eyes wander up to see Bokuto, hair deflated and petrified.

The cute demeanor he was receiving just mere minutes ago, is replaced by what Akaashi can only think to describe as “catatonic”. Kuroo slaps a hearty hand onto his shoulder, and drags him to the back. Bokuto is whimpering and shaking like a leaf.

“Holy shit.” Tsukishima exhales heartily. “Are you okay?” He pushes off his knees and to his feet.

Looking down, well, he’s breathing. But this is far from okay. He’s just accidentally been poisoned by a cute guy, and is now red, swollen, and with one exposed leg to the cold cafe air.

“Just great.” Akaashi buries his face in his hands, and yanks his sweatpants back down. “Why do these things always h-have to happen..?” He slowly mouths.

“He’s so stupid.” Tsukishima tsks, grabbing the plate and wandering towards the kitchen. Akaashi feels like shit, and lays on the table for the next 20 minutes, most of which are occupied by someone crying, a lot of yelling, and a really, really bad headache.

Akaashi is so embarrassed that he goes home without saying goodbye, except to Lev, who insists on hugging him like he almost just died. Which, he guesses, could have happened if it played out differently. 

The last time Akaashi had an allergic reaction, he was 16, and had gotten a little too preoccupied in cooking that he’d used the olive oil instead of avocado. That was much worse, and he did have to go to the hospital that time. 

As he walks home, Akaashi thinks he may as well just never show his face in Cats & Crows until the day he actually dies. Or maybe just, drop dead in the doorway of his apartment to save face. But he has a 7 pm lecture, and a slew of work to grade. So he opts for shoving himself into his work for the better half of the weekend.

It doesn’t work. And it’s Sunday night when Akaashi decides that the stupidly handsome idiot who almost poisoned him just two days ago, might just be becoming a pressing issue for his frontal lobe.

“So….are we gonna talk about it..?”

Bokuto slams his head back against the couch.

“Ughhhhhhh” He groans into a pillow. “Kuroo can you please stop bringing this up…”

“Dude, you were a mess. We can’t just avoid it for the rest of our lives.” Kuroo quips, pausing the game that they’ve been watching for the past hour. 

“Sure we can! I quit!” Bokuto smiles ruggedly.

“No you don’t. I got you this job against my better judgment. You can’t quit.” 

“C’mon man...I can’t show my face in there ever again. He’s like, gotta hate me or something.”

Kuroo takes a deep breath and ruffles the ever so heightened mess of Bokuto’s hair.

“It was an accident, you didn’t know.” He replies, and Bokuto makes a whining noise in the back of his throat. “But. This is a great lesson as to why we always make things according to the ticket.”

“I know, I know already!” The taller man throws the pillow off the couch. “I was nervous and I wanted to make a good impression! He was really cute…..is really cute…..AUGHHHH!”

“Yeah you’ve got a point there.” Kuroo agrees.

“I always fuck things up when it comes to woo-ing someone.” Bokuto sighs dejectedly. 

“Got a point there too. And the fact that you call it ‘woo-ing’ tells me you aren’t ready.”

Bokuto kicks his left leg into Kuroo’s chest in retaliation.

“What if he never comes back….”

“He will. If not for you, at least for Kenma.”

And as if he can sense they’re talking about him, Kenma emerges from his bedroom down the hall.

“I heard my name. You talking shit Kuroo?” He yawns, plopping down in between the two, and shoving Bokuto’s leg out of the way in the process.

“I would never.” Kuroo smirks, planting a small kiss onto the top of his head. Bokuto groans again. And Kenma makes a face like he knows Kuroo is bullshitting him, but chooses to say nothing.

“Guys! Help me out here!!!” He cries into the couch’s side. “I’m having, like, a major gay crisis!”

“When are you not?” Kenma retorts, and Kuroo has to hide his chuckle behind the blonde’s shoulder.

“You guys suck. I’m going to bed.” 

“Aw come on Bo, you know he doesn’t mean it.” Kuroo tugs on Bokuto’s shirt as he tries to leave. He looks awfully stupid when he’s pitying himself. It doesn’t frame his face well.

“Yes I do.” Kenma says under his breath.

“Kenma you’re friends with him right?” Bokuto stops trying to climb off the couch to turn to his friend with pleading eyes. “Can you please, please, please help me figure out how to make this up to him?” Kenma only stares at Bokuto like he’s just spat in his face.

“No.”

“Pleaseeeeee?” Bokuto tries his best puppy dog eyes. Kenma could honestly care less.

“Bokuto, he has a busy life, and he’ll probably be back in the store by Monday anyways. You figure it out by yourself, I don’t wanna get dragged into this mess.” Kenma shoots back, crossing his arms. “Just ask him out for an apology date or something.”

“Wait-” Kuroo begins, but Bokuto is already up and jumping around the living room.

“That’s actually a great idea!!!” He rejoices. “Thanks Kenma, you’re the best!!!”

And with that, he disappears off to his room, where the other two can hear him loudly talking to himself.

“You think Akaashi would actually go on a date with him?” Kuroo wonders into the side of Kenma’s shoulder.

“Maybe.”

“I thought he was smarter than that.”

“Are you saying Bokuto would be a bad boyfriend….?” Kenma asks, turning to look at Kuroo’s face. He looks guilty.

“No…..but don’t they seem….I dunno, a little too different?” He questions softly. Kenma stares at the ceiling and contemplates it. He’s not wrong but…Bokuto can definitely be sweet at times. He may be a lot to handle, but he’s a good guy.

“I guess we’ll see.” Kenma shrugs, and then adds, “But I still think Akaashi has a better chance at taming him than anyone else.”

“Cheers to that!” Kuroo chuckles, and knocks his head against Kenma’s with a playful smile. “So tell me about your game, I know that’s why you came out here.”

Kenma smiles earnestly, and relaxes against his boyfriend’s loving arms.

Inside his room, Bokuto tries and fails to come up with a smooth way to ask “Hey, will you please go out with me I’m sorry I almost killed you”, and decides to just wing it.

“And that’s all we have time for, it looks like.” Akaashi glances at his watch, it’s almost noon. “Please don’t forget to check your Canvas’ as I graded the last two assignments and they should be up by now. I’ll see you all next week.”

The class files out shortly after, and then Akaashi is stuck receiving his own grading from the teacher on stand-by. When he can finally make it out of the building, it takes a long hard 30 seconds for him to debate whether or not he wants to risk going back to Cats & Crows. In order to take more time to mull it over, he sits himself down on a bench just outside the literature department.

So….

Option A; decide to give up on routine, find somewhere else to eat his perfectly quiet and comfortable lunches at, and avoid the cafe (and hot mess inside it) out of fear of whatever awkward tension was going to come with his return. 

That one didn’t sound reasonable at all. Don’t get him started on how hard it is to find good food around here that isn’t priced well above his paycheck, and either way, it doesn’t seem logical to just disappear from the friends he’d made over his time of going there. Plus, then he’d have to explain why to Kenma, who knew him too well to know that a little freak accident was not enough to dissuade him from a good meal. His feelings, however, definitely were.

Or Option B; go back, suffer and deal with whatever has spread through the ears of the workers, because it definitely has. And have to confront the very weird admiration he had for a guy who quite nearly assassinated him. Although he figured “assassinate” insinuated Bokuto was trying to do it on purpose, which he definitely wasn’t.

Oh, and there was the other really big issue. He’s pretty sure Bokuto was hitting on him .

Akaashi Keiji is beautiful, he knows that. He doesn’t quite believe he’s far above the beauty standard, but it’s not uncommon for people to let him know what they think about his appearances. He’s 25, and he isn’t shy about his sexuality. It’s just not that he’s looking right now. He used to frequent gay bars and other well known hot spots in his early college years, but that only led to a few boring hook-ups and one boyfriend who didn’t like the fact that he was a teacher.

Regardless. It’s been a while since someone has been as bold as to call him “awfully pretty” to his face. And Bokuto isn’t just any guy. He’s really attractive. Which is really, a big problem. Because if Akaashi has to show his face in an establishment every day, he would rather not try to ignore the butterflies in his stomach to get his food down. Most of the people at Cats & Crows are queer, that’s no secret. Especially not when half of them are working there with their partners. It’s kind of hard to hide the constant flirting, trust Akaashi, he’s witnessed the worst of it. But Bokuto doesn’t quite strike him as gay….at least not in a looks perspective. Sure his hair is dyed, but he looks like any regular guy that would stop Akaashi on his way to work and shove Crunch Fitness ads into his pockets while educating him on the importance of working out and maintaining a good body and blah blah blah.

He doesn’t want to judge a book by its cover at all. He especially doesn’t, because that would mean he’s (maybe, sorta) crushing on a straight guy.

“Akaashi…?” A voice calls him from the spot he’s been rooted in for, he checks his watch, 20 minutes?

“Ah, Sugawara. I apologize, I didn’t see you there.” Akaashi pats the side of the bench next to him. “Are you busy?”

“Not particularly no, I was going to go visit Daichi on his break, but that can wait. What’s wrong with you?” Sugawara laughs, setting down his bag and adjusting the scarf around his neck. Akaashi is always taken aback at the man’s cutting words. With a face like that, you can never really expect it.

“Uh….it’s kind of a long story.” Akaashi blushes, leaning forward to warm his hands.

“Humor me. We teach for a living, long stories are kinda our thing, no?”

“Good point.” Akaashi replies dryly. “God, where do I even start…”

But he does find a place to start, because it isn’t that hard to recall when it’s been playing over and over in his head for the past three nights. Sugawara looks utterly appalled, probably for him, or maybe Bokuto, and when the story’s over he bursts into a fit of punctuated laughter.

“NO WAY!” Sugawara chuckles, slapping Akaashi’s back. “So you’ve got the hots for a guy who almost killed you???” Akaashi covers his face with his hands and nods. “Didn’t take you as a masochist, Keiji.” Sugawara teases, Akaashi groans.

“I’m not. You should’ve seen him.” He says, as if that will make things any better. “Actually…..”

“Whatever you’re about to say, I’m in. Please Keiji; my god, save me from another boring lunch where I have to keep my hands off of my husband in that sexy uniform!” 

“Don’t need the details.” Akaashi twists up his face. “I was going to stop by for lunch, I’d say you’re more than welcome to join, but at this point I think you’re necessary. I don’t think I can show my face in there alone.” Sugawara hoists himself off the seat, and drags Akaashi by the arm with him.

“Lead the way!” He smiles brightly. And Akaashi thinks his day might just be getting a little bit better.

When the bell rings three times, and Akaashi steps back into the establishment he loves so much, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding at the sight of Kenma at the register. Kenma, who’s much too engrossed in his game to look up, calls for Kuroo to come take the order.

“Is it a new one?” Akaashi questions, eyeing the switch in Kenma’s hand. And it’s only then that he glances up, wide eyed.

“You showed up.” Kenma states plainly, and then looks behind him at Sugawara, who’s fawning over the cute decor and running around with his phone camera out. “Andddd you’re not alone..?” Akaashi sees what he’s getting at.

“He’s my coworker.” Akaashi supplies, and when Kenma raises an eyebrow he adds, “ Just a coworker.” Kenma raises his hands defensively, and that’s when Kuroo exits the back all smiles and pleasantries.

“Kenma you know Akaashi’s order by heart, why the hell did you call me out here?” Kuroo grumbles, hand on his hip. 

“I didn’t know it was him yet. Plus I don’t know that one’s order, so why don’t you just do it for me?” He replies, pointing at the gray-haired man still eyeing up the shop in the background. Kuroo opens his mouth, but before he can say anything Kenma beats him to it. “Just a friend, by the way.”

“Ah, I see, I see.” Kuroo sighs. Akaashi peers back and forth between the two angrily.

“Are you two seriously so involved in my love life that you have to do this every single time I come in with someone?” He questions bitterly.

“No.” Kenma glances down, and at the same time Kuroo says, “Yes.”

They look at each other for a minute before Sugawara can bound back to the register to finally look at the menu.

“Oh Keiji! Why don’t you bring me here more often!” Sugawara chirps, placing his hands together. “If I knew this place was so cute I would’ve accompanied you for more than just your romance issue!” Akaashi elbows him in the side, and Sugawara looks between the two people behind the register, and Akaashi’s ever reddening face. “Whoops~”

“So why are you here again?” Kuroo smirks.

“Oh my god, you can all go to hell.” Akaashi saunters to himself. “Sugawara, you order, I’m sitting down.” Akaashi turns to go sit, but is met with extreme deja vu when Bokuto appears from the back, and once again stares at him like he’s just seen a ghost. Under different circumstances, he might be.

“YOU’RE BACK!” Bokuto yells, pointing at Akaashi, who very much wishes he were anywhere but “back”. And then realizing how weird that is, attempts to stammer out a proper greeting. “UM, UH, I MEAN….welcome in what can I get started for you today..?”

Akaashi, is speechless. Sugawara is laughing behind his hand, because he definitely knows . And Kenma is trying his best to ignore everyone.

“You’re not even on register today buddy….” Kuroo wipes a hand over his face. “Go back in there please.”

“But! But-”

“Bokuto you’re gonna make a fool of yourself.” Kenma fills in the blanks, and Bokuto takes one last look at Akaashi, waves, and disappears into the back again. Sugawara is kind enough to keep to himself until they’re seated, but the second they are, his big mouth opens.

“ That’s the guy???” Sugawara sips on his iced coffee eagerly. “ Him ???”

“Trust me, I know.” Akaashi allows his head to fall against the wood of the table. “I’m not pleased about it either.”

“No, no. He’s cute,” Sugawara starts. “I just didn’t expect you to have the ‘big guy’ type. Good for you!” He laughs, ruffling Akaashi’s hair. Akaashi has a flashback to the last time he was here, with his head on this same table, and suddenly really wishes his epipen wasn’t found in enough time.

Their food comes out shortly after, thankfully with an absence of olives, and the conversation ebbs and flows naturally. Akaashi really doesn’t know why he hasn’t invited Sugawara out more. He’s awfully pleasant to be around, and it’s so much easier to talk with someone who fills in the gaps for you.

Akaashi isn’t very vocal. 

For almost his entire life he was always being pushed by adults alike for his monotone voice and quiet demeanor. It wasn’t his fault, he just spoke that way. No point in trying to cater to people who didn’t like it. It’s this aspect that has always drawn him to befriend loud, bubbly people. People who don’t mind someone who would prefer to listen, over anything else. Akaashi likes listening.

He likes loud people. 

“Um….” Sugawara pokes him lightly, just as he’s finishing another story about Daichi’s lack of manners. “Isn’t that your guy..?”

“He is not my guy-” Akaashi repeats, he considers begging Sugawara to quit making a fool out of him when he catches the eye of said guy, making a fool out of himself. Kenma is using his short frame to try and shove Bokuto out of the kitchen. But Bokuto looks red in the face, and rooted to the ground. “Huh….I suppose it is.” Akaashi murmurs to himself.

“I heard that.” Sugawara whispers back. Akaashi glares at him, but quickly directs his attention back to whatever is happening in the front of the store. Kenma and Bokuto are now arguing about something, which shocks Akaashi, because Kenma is not one to argue. Not about little things anyway.

“Just go over there!” Kenma whispers angrily. Bokuto shakes his head so fast it might come off.

“No!” He retorts. “I’m nervous!”

“You’re nervous, he’s probably nervous, we’re all nervous Bokuto! I'm tired of dealing with this shit! Get it over with before I go do it myself!” Kenma argues back, making another harsh shove in the direction of Akaashi’s table. Bokuto is sweating bullets.

“Gross, you sound like Kuroo!” Bokuto jumps off of him, and sighs. “Fine, fine. I’ll do it. But if it goes bad, I am quitting for real.”

“No you aren’t!” Kuroo yells across the shop. 

“How do you hear everything! Ugh!” Bokuto grunts, storming over to Akaashi’s table before remembering that he probably shouldn’t look mad if he’s planning to ask someone out. It’s too late though, and both Akaashi and Sugawara are staring at him expectantly. 

“Hi.” Both Akaashi and Bokuto mumble at the same time. Akaashi clears his throat and tries again.

“Hi Bokuto.” He raps his fingers nervously against the edge of his cup. “What’s….up?”

“Um.” Bokuto grins, his teeth filled with nerves (if that’s even possible). “So I wanted to apologize…”

“Great! Go on then!” Sugawara interjects. His legs are crossed and he looks way too comfortable. Akaashi kicks him under the seat, and Sugawara gasps. “Ow!”

“Koushi, for the love of all things great please shut up.” Akaashi says through clenched teeth. This makes both of the other two men bear a shocked expression. Bokuto is oddly impressed, and Sugawara has never heard Akaashi speak that way in his life.

“Please continue Bokuto.” Akaashi supplements.

“Well I wanted to apologize for….you know…”

“Giving me an allergic reaction?” Akaashi questions. Bokuto nods shyly.

“I feel really, really , REALLY bad about it, okay! And I didn’t mean to! Like at ALL. I really like olives, and I wanted to impress you, so I thought ‘hey, maybe he’ll like them too!’ which is the last time I ever listen to my brain about anything. And it was really stupid but I didn’t want you to think I was trying to kill you or anything!” Akaashi giggles at that. A soft, quiet giggle, that paints his cheeks a rosy pink. He’s smiling patiently and waiting for Bokuto to continue, because with the way his body is humming clearly there’s more he wants to say.

Bokuto has to take a moment to collect himself though. Because Akaashi is beautiful, and he’s worried if he opens his mouth he might just blurt out something he isn’t ready to talk about quite yet.

“Thank you.” Akaashi mouths gently. “I know you didn’t mean to.” And the way his eyelashes look when he blinks, and that damn coat he’s wearing hugs him so tightly. Bokuto wants to be that coat so bad. But he’s just met this guy so he needs to cool it.

“Will you go out with me?” Comes stumbling out of his mouth.

Akaashi gapes at him. Sugawara stares with interest. Bokuto is pretty sure he can hear Kenma laughing.

“Wait! No! I mean!!! Not like that-” Akaashi begins to frown, but Bokuto picks himself back up. “Okay, yes. Kind of, like that. But not really… It’s a ‘I’m sorry’ dinner, and maybe also a ‘I think you’re really cute and would like to take you on a date’ dinner. But not if you don’t want it to be! It can just be an ‘I’m sorry’ dinner! I promise!!!” Bokuto stammers out. "Because I am sorry, you know, for almost killing you."

Akaashi really doesn’t know what to say. But he’s blushing hard , and he’s a tad bit afraid if he grips his cup any tighter the plastic lid may come off. Bokuto, bless him, is waiting patiently for his response, rocking back and forth on the soles of his feet as he does.

“Ah…” Akaashi starts, opening and closing his mouth several times in order to find the words. “Dinner sounds nice.” He settles.

“Great!” Bokuto beams eagerly. “Wait, which one? The ‘I’m sorry’ dinner or-”

“Can’t we talk about that somewhere more,” Akaashi gestures behind him. “..private?” Bokuto nods aggressively, he’s still smiling. Akaashi quite likes his teeth, actually.

“Okay! So I get off around 4. How does 5 o’ clock sound?” 

“That’s fine.” Akaashi mumbles beneath his sleeve. He’s busy trying to wipe the admiration off his face. 

“Okay! Okay, great! This is so great! I was so nervous, oh man, you have no idea! I totally thought you didn’t like me, well, wait, I still don’t actually…..but that’s okay because I’ll treat you anyway. I don’t mind-”

“ALRIGHT.” Kuroo coughs loudly, strangling Bokuto in an arm hold around his neck. “Christ, I cannot watch any more of this.” He sighs. “Kou, man, we gotta talk about your rambling skills, okay?” Kuroo leads him away, but not before Bokuto can get in one more, cute wave.

“It just happens!” Akaashi can make out Bokuto say as they disappear into the back once more.

“Wow.” Sugawara says quietly. “That was very….interesting?”

“He’s really cute.” Akaashi whispers into his hands.

“I heard that, too.” Sugawara smiles.

“I don’t care anymore. I finally have a date after years. Can’t you just be happy for me?” He begs. Sugawara sets down his drink, and takes both of Akaashi’s hands in his own.

“Go get em tiger! Go get laid!”

“Ew.” Akaashi says bitterly.

They both burst into laughter.

Akaashi stares at himself in the mirror with a heavy frown. What the hell does one wear to a date again?

He looks too much like a teacher, he thinks. But all of his clothes are ‘teaching clothes’, so there’s almost no point in swapping them out again and again.

“This is going nowhere.” He mutters to the piece of glass in front of him. If Akaashi were an angry person, he might’ve punched it. But he’s not. So he settles for flopping onto the bed and going with the best option still folded carefully on his desk chair.

Akaashi lives alone. He loves living alone. But it’s times like these when he wishes he had a second opinion, and facetime seems too troublesome at the moment.

5 Pm rolls around, and Akaashi sets off for the cafe with his nerves (and the cold) causing an unsightly, bitter shaking to course his body.

As he rounds the corner, he catches Kuroo laughing and shoving Bokuto around as they both lock up. Bokuto stops at the sound of his footsteps, and stares again.

Akaashi is learning he will never get used to this, and he’s not sure he ever wants to. Bokuto always looks breathless when he sees him, and Akaashi can’t help but smile at the way his body straightens like a rod.

How adorable.

“Good luck!” Kuroo slaps the back of Bokuto’s shoulder and waves him off as he walks to his car. And then the cold silence of the November afternoon returns.

“I’m still in my work uniform.” Bokuto mentions patently, glancing down at his clothes. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” Akaashi replies softly. He surely doesn’t mind. Not when the apron is hugging Bokuto’s hips like that. “But maybe you should take the apron off.”

He is, however, a good person. Bokuto doesn’t need to know he’s staring, and Akaashi definitely doesn’t want to have to pretend he isn’t for an extended period of time.

“Right! You’re so smart ‘Kaashi.” Bokuto unties the apron and places it into his backpack.

“That’s new.”

“What’s new?” Bokuto cocks his head to the side.

“You called me ‘Kaashi.” Akaashi states plainly, and before Bokuto can get all sad he continues. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“Good.” Bokuto strums, catching up to Akaashi and beginning to walk down the street. “I was thinking we could get something nice.”

“Something with no olives, right?” Akaashi teases, and Bokuto looks constipated for about half a second before he laughs.

“Right! How does sushi sound?” 

“That sounds lovely Bokuto.”

So Bokuto is not only attractive, but apparently also a gentleman. He takes Akaashi’s coat for him when they make it inside. He’s overly kind to the hostess, and even specially requests a table on the second floor because she mentions it’s quieter and ‘How the hell did he know I prefer the quiet?’. And when they make it there, he pulls the seat out for Akaashi, and offers him the first menu.

Akaashi realizes he’s probably never been on a real date before. It makes him both overly nervous, and amazingly grateful that he’s having it with someone so kind.

“I’ve never been here before.” Bokuto leans over the table and whispers to him like it’s some kind of secret.

“Truth be told, neither have I.” Akaashi whispers back. 

“Do you actually like sushi or were you just gonna say yes to whatever I picked?” Bokuto questions as he flips through the menu. Everything is overly expensive, and even though it’s probably a bad thing to think, Akaashi secretly hopes he pays.

“I like sushi.” Akaashi watches Bokuto breathe out slowly. His shirt hugs his chest really nicely, he notes. “And I wanted to eat dinner with you.”

“So this is a real date?” Bokuto smiles happily.

“Maybe.”

“Okay. I’m really fine with either.”

Akaashi wants to press him more on that, but is interrupted by their waitress who carefully takes their drink orders. By the time she’s gone, Akaashi has built up too many nerves to ask on. He focuses on unfolding his silverware, and placing the napkin safely on his lap, god forbid another freak event happens. He’s wearing his nice cacky’s today, and would rather not ruin them.

“So, uh, how did you find out you were allergic to olives?” 

“What an interesting question.” Akaashi can’t help but smile. This is the kind of small talk he enjoys. “My parents took me out to an Italian restaurant and I ate too much garlic bread.” Bokuto laughs so hard that his knee jolts the top of the table, and they both quickly reach to stop the vase of flowers in the middle from toppling over. Akaashi’s gone red.

“Wow. You have really cold hands.” Bokuto mumbles, the hand atop Akaashi’s swipes over his knuckles as if to further test this theory. Akaashi is staring at Bokuto’s face so hard he feels like he could pop an eyeball. Bokuto’s face is tender and soft as he trails the edges of his fingertips, but it tenses up when he pulls away. “Fuck. I’m sorry.” He whispers under quiet breath.

“N-” Akaashi begins, and of course, the waitress is back. Akaashi ordered a green tea, and Bokuto got a lemonade. Which no matter how angry he is at the waitress, is an awfully cute thing for a grown man to order. He looks very pleased when she hands it to him. “We need a few more minutes, I apologize.” Akaashi turns to her, begging for just enough time to explain himself. The woman looks apologetic.

“No worries at all sir, I’ll be back shortly.” She replies, turning and walking away. 

“So what are you gonna get?” Bokuto chirps, deciding to ignore the awkward moment and go back to pretending like this isn’t a ‘maybe’ date. “I like the ones with avocado, that stuffs real good for ya, you know?”

“I’ll probably just order some salad.” Akaashi decides, looking at the prices is making his brain hurt. And for some reason he feels incredibly guilty for this whole mess. Bokuto plants down his menu sharply, and stares at him.

“You can’t eat only salad! It’s bad for your health. You have to have some sort of protein, do you work out? You’re quite small for a man of your height.” Akaashi opens his mouth slightly in awe. “Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re very beautiful!” 

“Bokuto-”

“I mean! I just want you to eat enough. Don’t worry about the expenses, I make a lot of money anyway and don’t have much to do with it. It’s fine, really.” Bokuto presses on. Akaashi is now overly curious as to why Kuroo insisted on hiring him.

When the waitress returns, Akaashi orders a salad. And a bowl of tofu curry, because he was a little horrified that if he didn’t Bokuto might try to order for him. And lord knows how that went last time. Bokuto orders three separate rolls, which he insists they can share, and a bowl of rice for the table.

“I’m sorry.” Akaashi suddenly says once the waitress has left. He’s picking his skin on the edges of his nails as he speaks.

“What?” Bokuto sputters. “What for? I should be the sorry one, I almost killed you!” He presses his mouth into a line.

“I don’t know.” Akaashi melts into his seat. “I feel bad that you’re doing all of this over an accident.”

“Oh, not at all.” Akaashi sips his tea and tries to ease his nerves as Bokuto continues. “Like I said, I would’ve done this anyways. Well I wanted to do it anyways. But then I kinda…you know the rest.” Bokuto mimes the epipen as he talks.

“Can I ask you something?” Akaashi sets down his cup.

“Yes.”

“Are you...interested in me?” Bokuto pauses and looks at him with a confused face.

“Was I not being clear about that part?” He falters.

“Well, no. It’s just. I don’t know. I need the verbal answer sometimes.” Akaashi is so focused on the table that he misses Bokuto’s face soften.

“I think you’re captivating Akaashi.” He says earnestly. Akaashi whips his head up, and Bokuto only smiles. “I really do.”

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

The conversation shifts back into something more casual, and just like that, the moment is gone. 

Akaashi learns that Bokuto is a professional volleyball player, and although he’s never been interested in sports before, he certainly will be doing some extensive research when he gets home. Akaashi tells him about teaching, and how tiring it can be. And just as their food arrives he finally manages to work himself up to the question.

“So why are you working at Cats & Crows anyway? I mean, if you already have a sports salary.” Akaashi muses as he takes a bite of the tofu.

“Well, Kuroo is always telling me about how fun it is to work there. Both he, and our other roommate always make it seem so fun. I wanted something to do other than volleyball practice all the time. And it’s off season so he promised he’d let me try it out for a bit.” The gears in Akaashi’s head start to slowly click to life.

“Wait. You’re roommates with Kuroo…?” Akaashi puts down his fork.

“Yes?”

“Oh my god.” Akaashi slaps a hand over his mouth. “You’re Kenma’s other roommate!” He laughs.

“Well, yeah. Those two are a nightmare in love.” Akaashi can’t stop laughing, and he doesn’t want to look like a mess, but oh my god all those stories…

“You flooded the apartment your first week of living there. And you brought home the three strays that ended up almost getting you guys evicted. That was all you?” Akaashi takes a hefty breath to stop himself from laughing more. Bokuto is shocked.

“I am going to kill Kenma.” He says slowly. “How do you know all that?”

“Kenma and I have been friends for a long time. I didn’t realize you were the same guy he’s been telling me stories about for the past year.”

“You probably think I’m horrible now.” Bokuto sadly whines while shoving a piece of sushi into his mouth. “I promise both of those things were accidents….”

“And karaoke night…?” Akaashi pushes, smirking.

“ONE TIME! THAT WAS ONE TIME!” Bokuto cries into his arm. “I’m so going to kill Kenma.”

“He tells me the good stuff too.” Akaashi smiles at Bokuto. “Don’t worry so much.”

“Hmm…” Bokuto mumbles, mouth full of food. “I don’t know much of anything about you, though. Tell me about yourself ‘Kaashi.”

There it is again, that damn nickname.

“My life is boring.” Akaashi interjects, swirling his salad between the fork. “I apologize, but I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“That’s okay. I just like listening to you talk.” Bokuto places a hand on his chin, and readjusts in his chair. “You have a nice voice. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“No.”

“Well they should.” 

“You say a lot of nice things, Bokuto.” Akaashi blushes. 

“There are a lot of nice things to say about you. Not my fault.” Bokuto shrugs. “So tell me about your boring life then, I’m itching to know.”

Akaashi says he likes to listen, and he does, it’s true. But he honestly cannot remember the last time someone asked him to just talk . 

Bokuto is sitting across from him, and somehow making the sharpest features look incredibly soft. He’s staring at him like he’s a work of art to be admired, and Akaashi so badly wants to kiss the lids of those stupid eyes.

He talks. About nothing, and everything. About highschool, about how his parents wanted him to become a doctor. About how badly he loved writing, and the many, many things he published over the years. 

And Bokuto listens. For someone so squirmy, he sits down, and doesn’t make a peep the entire time. Save for a few acknowledging words here and there. Akaashi feels like he could spend the rest of his life watching the soft creases in Bokuto’s face smooth themselves over when he grins.

The food is really good. Like overly good for a college student who only eats sandwiches and microwaved dinners for most of his week. Bokuto tells him all about the importance of a balanced meal, and although Akaashi could care less, he smiles the entire time.

Bokuto radiates warmth. Akaashi is really happy he fed him olives.

What a strange thing to think.

At the end of dinner, Bokuto pays the bill. He, once again, refuses to let Akaashi get up by himself, and pulls the chair out for him. He takes his hand when they walk down the steep steps like he’s afraid Akaashi could fall over at any moment. And Akaashi is certainly falling, but not for that.

They grab their coats on the way out, and enter the cold street. 

“Hey so, you never really told me what kind of dinner this was….” Bokuto breathes into the night air. Steam comes from his mouth in tiny waves. The roads are wet from the rain that probably occurred during their dinner. Akaashi stares at the reflection of the street lights in the puddles.

“It was a date.” Akaashi replies. “Right?”

“If you want it to be.”

“I want it to be.”

“Wanna go on another one?” Bokuto stops walking, and turns towards Akaashi when he asks. He looks so genuine, and nervous that Akaashi’s heart runs in circles around his chest before he can formulate an answer.

“Yes.” Akaashi breathes out heartily. “I really, really do.” Bokuto’s smile is wide, and toothy (god, Akaashi fucking loves his teeth) and he’s so cute. Akaashi wants to kiss him. He’s going to kiss him. But then Bokuto’s eyes widen, and he tugs Akaashi to the side. It’s a slurry of movement but he can make out honking, and a car rams through a huge puddle on the edge of the road and the sidewalk. They barely miss getting soaked.

He opens his mouth to thank him, and then his world shifts. And Bokuto is slipping forward. Akaashi is not nearly strong enough, and in an attempt to stop him from falling over, Akaashi grabs on tightly to his coat. Unfortunately, big professional volleyball players are usually really heavy, so they both are sent flying backwards and straight into the dirty street water.

Akaashi gasps as it overcomes him. Bokuto scrambles into a sitting position, and coughs twice.

They stare at each other in pure, unadulterated shock.

“Fuck.” Bokuto swears, his eyes glossing over quickly. “Aw fuck.” He chokes.

Bokuto looks like he could cry, he’s staring right at Akaashi’s nice clothing (that he’s now going to have to wash anyway, guess the napkin did no good) with his bottom lip trembling. 

Somehow, in the dirty city water, shaking like a leaf, and seated across from the most attractive man he’s met. Who looks absolutely horrible when he’s sad, by the way. Akaashi is nowhere near upset.

He chokes, and then chuckles. And laughter rips its way out of his throat, and through his lungs, loudly onto the street. Akaashi laughs harder than he’s laughed in years, only more so when he opens his eyes to see Bokuto’s puzzled expression. 

“You’re so cute.” Akaashi manages after catching his breath. “Can I kiss you?”

He doesn’t care anymore. The nerves are gone because he’s fucking soaking wet in downtown Tokyo, he’s almost died because of the man in front of him, and honestly, could it get any worse from here? What’s he so afraid of?

The answer is nothing. 

Because despite his sad, sodden state. Bokuto smiles, and presses his lips against Akaashi’s like he’s tasting gold.

Really, it must look ridiculous. Two strangers sitting in a messy puddle on the side of the road, kissing, because fuck it where else if not here? But Akaashi doesn’t care anymore. Bokuto certainly doesn’t with the way his fingers (damn his hands) tangle themselves in the back of Akaashi’s black hair.

It’s been four days since Akaashi Keiji met Bokuto Koutarou. So far he’s almost died, been soaked twice, stared at like he was the world too many times to count. And kissed once.

Bokuto finally pulls them both to their feet after kissing him softly once more on the nose. He doesn’t let go of Akaashi’s hand as they walk down the street together.

“Your hands are cold.” He mumbles to the wind.

“I like you, in case that wasn’t clear.” Akaashi replies.

Bokuto grins.

“I like you.” His grip tightens. “And your cold hands.”