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It was, as most things in the world seemed to be, Tetsuya's fault. It was Tetsuya's fault and Tetsuya's fault entirely that Furihata was now working for Akashi, flitting back and forth from Akashi's desk to the secretary's desk outside. He was proving surprisingly competent, all things considered. He answered phone calls, took down the appropriate notes, and had perfectly legible handwriting, even if his kanji usage wasn't quite up to Akashi's standards. Thus far, Akashi had very few qualms with his decision to allow Tetsuya's pointed interference in his life ("Furihata-kun could use a job, if your company is hiring, Akashi-kun.")
Very few qualms aside from the fact that his coffee cup was rapidly approaching "fully drained", it was half past eight at night, and Akashi had a large number of documents to finish going over before he had any hope of going home. His previous secretary had been a temp; she'd lasted all of two weeks, skirting out of the office whenever Akashi so much as looked at her. (He blamed that on the fact that Reo was still visiting on a regular basis, and had regaled the rest of the company with stories about what Akashi was like in high school as punishment for Akashi being chronically tardy to their lunch dates.) She had, however, kept his coffee cup extremely full, and was fairly adept at using the steaming wands at the barista's station long after the barista had gone home.
Kouki, however, was not. He'd tried, of course, and the barista was infinitely patient. Akashi could hear the yelling and saw the aftermath of the wound on Kouki's hand later that day, though. Apparently, the damage had come out to four shot glasses, a broken thermometer and three stitches. Akashi had assured Kouki that from then off, simple drip coffee would be fine after six, and he didn't think he'd ever seen Kouki look as relieved as he had then, save when Seirin had managed to beat Rakuzan in the Winter Cup finals.
Akashi considered the last swallow of his coffee for a long moment. He frowned, downed the cold liquid in a gulp, and then took a moment to recover from the particular taste of old coffee. He'd give it five more minutes before he paged Kouki in for a refill.
The next five minutes were spent in the same manner as the previous: Akashi continued to browse the financial statements of the company he was considering buying out, idly highlighting certain passages of note and putting certain numbers in the spreadsheet on his computer, all the while blaming Tetsuya for his empty cup. If he hadn't hired Kouki, then his cup might not be empty. On the other hand, if he hadn't hired Kouki, then he might not have found anyone to fill Natsuki's position, which would have left even more of a dearth of coffee. It was a complicated matter.
At exactly 8:34:59, Akashi opened his mouth.
"Ah, Akashi-kun?" Kouki ventured from the doorway, before Akashi could manage to say anything.
"Kouki," Akashi started, fully intent on asking for more coffee.
"Are you planning to stay much longer?"
That derailed Akashi for a brief second (it had been entirely too long since his last refill), but only for a moment. "Yes," he said, after a brief pause, the words heavy and deliberate. "I have quite a bit more work to do." Akashi was very much of the mindset that leaving the office before ten at night was a sign of weakness.
"Ah... well, then, I'm going to head out for the night," Kouki continued, and Akashi wondered why exactly he'd agreed to hired him. Because Tetsuya, of course, and because Tetsuya seemed to believe that Kouki had become the sort of person that could withstand the sort of person Akashi had become. Frustratingly enough, Tetsuya had been right, which meant that Akashi didn't have much of a hope of getting that coffee refill.
"Of course," Akashi said, after letting the silence drag on just long enough to become uncomfortable. Kouki's expression went from hesitant to chipper like it was powered by electricity, and he disappeared from the doorway before Akashi could get out another word.
Akashi frowned at his coffee cup again, mourning the loss. He supposed he could always attempt to make some himself, but he'd never even bothered to learn how to properly brew drip coffee with the machine downstairs. He'd have to remedy that; it seemed an egregious oversight, even if he'd always anticipated having a secretary willing to fetch him coffee as late as he needed.
Well. He could survive one night without coffee, no matter how long it seemed to take.
He started to settle back into the financial statements (why they were funneling so much money into building upkeep, Akashi couldn't fathom — had they purchased a barn from the Meiji era as their headquarters?) when there was another knock at the door. Well, a knock might be too gracious of a term. It was more like a dull thump. Akashi raised his eyes again, blinking in slight disbelief as Furihata staggered his way back into the office wielding one of the polished aluminium coffee urns.
"Kouki," Akashi started, for once in his life (twice, if you included the conclusion of the first Winter Cup in high school), "what are you doing?"
"I'm," Kouki started, voice a little strained as he carefully set the coffee maker down onto Akashi's desk, being cautious not to scuff the surface of the wood. He placed a heaping bowl of sugar cubes onto the desk a second later. "I'm making sure you have enough coffee to get you through the night! You said you weren't planning on leaving anytime soon, right?"
Akashi nodded, faintly aware that Kouki was the sort to wait for a response before continuing.
"Right, so I thought if I premade the coffee for you... this thing can hold a hundred cups, and you can just push the lever down to dispense it," Kouki continued, tone a mix of proud and hopeful.
Well. That was a somewhat creative solution to the problem that Akashi honestly hadn't considered before (and was now somewhat aghast that he hadn't). The model was high-end enough that it didn't look out of place in Akashi's office, and if he moved it to the opposite side, it would give him some degree of exercise during the hours when he was buried in paperwork if he got up periodically to refill his cup.
He looked at Kouki, offering a faint smile, rusty from disuse. "Thank you," he said, and he was careful to make sure that it was as genuine as he could possibly make it. "I'll appreciate it."
That bright smile was flashed at him again, and Kouki whirled Akashi's coffee cup over, filled it up, added the preferred amount of sugar from a bowl and passing it back to Akashi.
"I'll see you tomorrow, then, Akashi-kun!" Kouki said, offering Akashi a wave and darting back out the door.
Akashi watched him go for a few moments longer than was strictly necessary, then took a sip of his coffee.
Well. Perhaps he should send Tetsuya a thank you card, instead.
--
A week later, the coffee maker was sitting in the corner of Akashi's office on a wooden stand he'd bought specifically for the purpose. He'd let Kouki chose the cloth; he had a talent for decorating that baffled Akashi slightly. (When pressed, Kouki would simply say that he'd learned it from Mitobe-senpai, but that didn't clear a whole lot up for Akashi. He'd have to ask Satsuki for her Seirin records sometime.)
"Do you need a refill, Akashi-kun— Akashi-san?" Kouki asked, poking his head in. He'd been getting slightly better about calling Akashi by the more formal address, but he was still far from perfect. Honestly, Akashi was willing to overlook it; high school acquaintances, even when they worked for you, were a bit of a different animal than most things. Akashi was hardly one to talk about respectful address, anyway, and he was more than well aware of it, even if he only did it half the time these days out of habit. Kouki was likely similar, so Akashi let him correct himself without interfering one way or the other.
"Yes," Akashi said, scooting his cup over to the edge of the desk. "Thank you."
Half a minute later, Kouki set the mug back down. Another half minute after that and Akashi finally looked up, since Kouki hadn't moved from his position in front of Akashi's desk, peering down at him with that concerned expression that he was becoming somewhat well-known for.
"Yes, Kouki?" Akashi asked, carefully making eye contact. It was a testament to how far Kouki had come since that first match in high school that he didn't even flinch away anymore, simply looked back.
"Have you eaten lunch yet?" Kouki asked, deliberate and pointed in a way that Akashi hadn't quite anticipated from him. He was learning from Tetsuya.
"I haven't," Akashi replied, tone a little cautious. They were treading waters that Akashi wasn't used to, here, and he knew that Kouki was even less used to it — he wasn't willing to give any ground unintentionally.
"Then I can bring you something," Kouki said, easily falling into the role of secretary before things got too far out of hand. "What would you like?"
Akashi considered the myriad of answers that sprung to mind, sorting through them with deft accuracy. I'm not hungry was a lie easily seen through; I'm busy was the truth, but if Akashi was so weak that he'd become incapable of eating and reading simultaneously there were much larger problems afoot than lunch. Kouki knew his schedule and therefore knew there were no meetings or conference calls that he needed to do, and so finally Akashi settled on the last response: "Something from the restaurant down the street is fine."
Kouki brightened again, that smile that made Akashi wonder if he really was as easy to please as a small dog. He stepped out of the room, and Akashi could see him picking up the phone through the glass door of the office.
Half an hour later, all of Akashi's favorite dishes were in front of him, still steaming hot and artfully arranged onto plates.
"I hope they look okay," Kouki was saying as he dug a pair of chopsticks out of the plastic bag and offered them over to Akashi. "I had to re-plate them myself."
"They look fine," Akashi said, and, after trying them, offered Kouki another rare smile. "They taste fine, as well."
It was growing to be a little curious, the way those smiles of Kouki's made Akashi feel. He rather liked the idea of their continued existence, and was finding that he would take a few unnecessary steps to ensure their survival, even when he didn't need to. Kouki refilled Akashi's coffee cup a final time, and then Akash was left alone with nothing but the paperwork regarding the acquisition of the newest company he was interested in. That and his thoughts, and of the two, the paperwork was the far more simple option.
--
Akashi was leaving work half a month later, coat wrapped tightly around himself to help keep out the chill of autumn, when he heard his name being called. It was nearly taken away by the wind, but he turned slightly, halfway into the car already.
"Akashi-kun! Akashi-kun," Kouki said, running after him. He made an amusing picture, the wind whipping through his dress shirt and leaving him shivering as he managed to make it over. He took in a deep breath, and Akashi had to marvel at how well he'd stayed in shape all this time after high school and university. Most people that weren't Akashi (or who weren't planning to play basketball professionally, like Daiki was) didn't seem to care nearly as much about how far they could run when they were closing in on being thirty.
"Kouki, you're going to freeze without your jacket," Akashi said, somewhat automatically. He stepped to the side of the car door and ushered Furihata into it, sliding in after him and shutting the door.
"I— I'm not ready to leave yet," Kouki responded, and he was doing admirably in his attempt not to shiver. Akashi carefully unwound the scarf from around his neck, shooting Kouki a glance that quickly ended all potential protests, and wrapped it around Kouki's. It wasn't much against the cold, but it was still warm from Akashi, and should help at least slightly. Akashi gestured to the driver not to leave yet.
"What did you need?" Akashi asked, and he was careful to keep the exasperation out of his tone.
"You forgot to get a gift for Murasakibara-san's grand opening." It was said with a hint of chastisement in his voice; Kouki had reminded Akashi at least three separate times, but Akashi had continued putting it off until it was... well. He was going to be attending the following morning.
"I can pick one up on the way," Akashi said, after a brief moment of consideration.
"There's not anything on the way," Kouki replied, and that note was still in his voice. He really was learning from Tetsuya. There weren't many people willing to sound that exasperated with Akashi to his face. "You can't just get him snacks when he's opening his own patisserie."
"I wasn't planning to," Akashi said, even though he likely would have wound up doing exactly that, and no one would have dared say anything, since he knew for a fact Tetsuya was too busy at the school to attend a daytime grand opening of Atsushi's new shop.
"Well, the point is, we have a business partnership with that high-end kitchenware store, right? And you can never have too many mixing bowls," Kouki explained, the words coming more easily as he warmed up in the heated interior of the car. "So I... went ahead and ordered some for you!"
Kouki's words hung in the air for a long moment, and Akashi wasn't quite sure what to do for a second. On one hand, if anyone else had overstepped their bounds quite like that, he would have been absolutely furious. On the other hand, when it was Kouki, he couldn't help but admire the initiative.
"When should I pick them up?" Akashi asked, finally, and that smile lit up Kouki's face again. Akashi was certain that if they were still outside, that smile alone could have kept him warm.
"In the morning! It's a little out of the way, so you'll have to get up early. Is that okay?"
"Yes," Akashi said, before uncertainty could dim any of the hundred watts of Kouki's expression.
"Okay! Then — I'll let you get home," Kouki said. He started to move to get out of the car, then hesitated. The door closest to the building was across Akashi, and Akashi was extremely disinclined to get up enough to let Kouki get out.
"You don't want a ride home?" Akashi asked.
Kouki hesitated for a long moment. "My things are still inside," he said, but it sounded like a token argument to Akashi's ears. Not that Akashi could blame him. Akashi was just as disinclined to get back out into that cold as Kouki seemed to be, and Akashi was properly dressed for the weather.
"Do you need them?" Akashi asked.
"My keys," Kouki responded, tone a little weak.
Akashi considered the options. He could have the driver move the car a bit closer, but there was still quite a length of walkway to overcome, and the wind was picking up further. Finally, adopting a tone as magnanimous as possible, he said: "You can stay the night at my apartment, if you would like."
For a moment, Akashi almost thought that he'd said something wrong with the way Kouki's face froze. But no; that couldn't be it, Akashi was certain of it. He might have been too forward, but that was something everyone accepted of Akashi, it wouldn't throw Kouki off as much as it seemed to. It certainly wasn't rude, and if he brought Kouki home, then he could at least make sure that he was properly dressed for the weather and didn't wind up catching a cold somehow from a weakened immune system.
"Are you sure?" Kouki said, finally, his expression still frozen in that worrying expression that made something deep in Akashi's stomach roll over in uncertainty.
"I'm quite sure," Akashi replied. "You wouldn't be an imposition." Just to put that argument to rest before it could gain any traction.
Finally — finally — Kouki's expression lit back up, and Akashi was nearly overwhelmed by the force of the expression.
"Okay," Kouki said, leaning back against the car seat. Akashi signaled to the driver that it was fine to leave, and the car took off.
It was a short ride to Akashi's apartment; he'd specifically chosen one that was nice enough to suit his tastes while also being close enough to work that he wouldn't waste too much time in transit. He had no desire to be the businessman falling asleep on the train home late at night. He leaned over before they got out of the car, carefully adjusting the scarf around Kouki's neck and making sure that it was as secure as it could be and as insulting as possible, under the circumstances.
"Ah — I'm sure I'll be fine, Akashi-k— Akashi-san," Kouki said, offering him a smile that was a touch more timid than usual. It was still desirable, in its own way, but Akashi thought that he preferred those other smiles.
"The parking garage is lightly heated," Akashi said dismissively, sliding out of the car and waiting until Kouki had joined him to continue his sentence. "But that doesn't mean it isn't still colder than usual, and you're not dressed for the weather."
This time, Kouki didn't say anything, offering absolutely no resistance as Akashi led him to the elevator and then into the luxurious suite that was his apartment. He hung his coat up, adjusted the thermometer up a few more degrees, and gestured slightly to the hallway.
"The guest bedroom is on the left, and has its own bathroom," Akashi said. "You're welcome to the food that's in the kitchen; I have someone stock it weekly and make a few premade meals, but I rarely dine at home."
Kouki looked a little overwhelmed, fingers playing with the edge of the scarf where it trailed down his front, obscuring his tie. "It's a really nice apartment," he said, finally, his tone sounding like he couldn't quite find the right words to do it justice.
"Yes," Akashi said. "I suppose it is, isn't it? I find it's rather lacking, occasionally, but I suppose that's to be expected from an apartment. I'm sure it will be fine when I upgrade to a house." Which he intended to do, really — it was just that the empty halls of his house growing up haunted him, and he had no desire to be like his father; an emperor ruling over a cold kingdom. As ridiculous as it sounded, Akashi would prefer to have a proper home, and that seemed to be a dream that was still out of reach.
Akashi turned his gaze back to Kouki, allowing it to sharpen as he turned his mind away from thoughts of the future. "You should shower quickly," he directed. "The water gets hot very quickly here."
"I'm okay, Akashi-san," Kouki said, flushing a little under Akashi's eyes, but he drifted obediently towards the spare bedroom. Akashi went to his own room, waiting until he heard the running of water to lay down. He fell asleep with the knowledge that there was someone else in his apartment playing around the edge of his thoughts.
It wasn't as bad of a thought as he thought it might have been, if it was anyone else.
--
When Akashi woke up in the morning, he didn't wake up to his alarm. He woke up to a concerned Kouki looking down at him, anxiety clear on his face.
"—kashi-san? Are you awake?"
"I'm awake," Akashi said, sitting up slowly. He glanced at the nightstand and realized that he'd been preoccupied enough that he'd completely forgotten to set his alarm the previous night. "Thank you for waking me."
Kouki offered an uncertain smile. "It's fine, but it's already nine — I had your driver take me to the store so I could pick up the bowls for Murasakibara-san's opening, and I paid with your credit card, I hope that's all right! You should leave soon if you don't want to be late."
Akashi took all of this in as he jogged his brain into properly waking up. "Of course," he agreed, slipping out of bed. "Have my driver take you to work, and return for me. I should be at the office before lunch." He started to undo the buttons on the top of his pajama shirt as he moved towards his bathroom. He could arrive fashionably late, as usual, to Atsushi's grand opening; if he was early, it would probably be seen as a bad omen of some sort.
"R— right," Kouki said, and his voice hit a squeak that Akashi hadn't heard since high school. He glanced back over his shoulder as Kouki scurried out of the room.
He was probably just anxious to get back to the office. Akashi wouldn't be surprised if he'd left his cell phone there, as well, and while leaving his phone behind was less catastrophic than if Akashi had left his own, he imagined it was still somewhat disconcerting.
Akashi took a hot shower and breathed the steam in, letting himself wake up slowly. He felt ... strange, in all honesty. He wasn't used to feeling like this. He knew he wanted to see Kouki's smile again, and regretted not seeing it before the man had left. The fact kept running around in Akashi's head and he was focusing on it enough that he wondered what was wrong with him, that he'd become so reliant on something so ridiculous as a smile; as his secretary? The idea of being reliant on anyone else was almost abhorrent, and yet, at the same time, Akashi couldn't quite look at it that way.
Once he was out of the shower, toweled off and dry, he went out to the kitchen, where his scarf was laying, carefully folded on the kitchen counter. Thank you, read the note pinned on top of it. Only that, and nothing more, but Akashi could see the start of a mark where Kouki had clearly been about to write something else and then decided against it.
He would have to ask about it later.
--
"Kouki, do you know where the contact information for Komatsu-san's company is?" Akashi asked instead, four days later.
Kouki glanced at Akashi from his desk and looked like he was thinking for a moment. "I — yeah! Hold on," he said, spinning his chair partway across the room to the filing cabinets and digging it out. "I think your last secretary misfiled a few things, but it should be right... here!" He got up to run it across the room to Akashi, beaming broadly and making Akashi's chest seize up like he was having a heart attack.
"Thank you," Akashi said, turning to go back into his office. He couldn't stand to look at that smile anymore; it felt like it was starting to cause him physical pain, and he couldn't quite put his finger on why.
"You're welcome!" Kouki said, and even though his back was turned, Akashi could hear the smile in his voice, and he escaped to his desk. He looked down at his coffee cup and it was just another reminder of this strange affliction Akashi appeared to be suffering from. He'd started glancing out his office door whenever he had spare moments; looking at Kouki when he should have been doing his work. It was all very alarming to someone as tightly controlled as Akashi was. This sort of thing was meant to happen to other people — not to him. Not to Akashi Seijuurou, who did everything right and had only failed once and that was a basketball game in high school that no one mentioned unless they were suicidal.
Besides. He didn't even know if Kouki liked him back.
"Akashi-san?" Kouki asked, startling Akashi out of his thoughts. Akashi was glad that he'd trained himself out of blushing partway through middle school, or he would have started turning a very unflattering color that wasn't at all appropriate for someone like him.
"Yes?"
"Do you want me to go get you some lunch?"
Akashi considered the question for a moment. He didn't have any meetings. He didn't even have anything terribly important to do. It was all busywork that he could complete at any time before the generous deadline, and if he didn't, nothing was going to come cascading down on his head. He always finished early.
If there was one thing that Akashi wasn't, it was a coward, and he was starting to feel like he was running from the obvious like a middle school student dealing with their first crush. Akashi had dealt with his first crush better than this, even if his first crush had gone absolutely nowhere (and he realized, with a small amount of trepidation, that he was already hoping that this did go somewhere).
"Actually," Akashi said, setting his tablet down onto the desk and standing up. "Would you like to go get lunch together?"
Kouki looked surprised again — who could blame him, when your boss abruptly asked you out for lunch? — and then smiled. It wasn't as bright as usual, and Akashi resisted the urge to frown, not wanting Kouki to think that it was something he'd done (even though it was).
"Okay, Akashi-san," Kouki said, reaching up to grab Akashi's coat off the hook and offer it over to him.
Akashi took it, tugging it on and leading the way out of the office. On a whim, he turned back around to look at Kouki. "Why don't you choose the restaurant?" he offered. "Consider it my treat."
Kouki flushed slightly, and Akashi's heart thumped in his chest loud enough that it verged on being able to be overheard.
"Are you sure?" he asked, and Akashi couldn't help but find it incredibly endearing when Kouki was thrown off-balance like this. Of course, Akashi reflected, he'd started to find just about everything about Kouki somewhat endearing, from his smiles to his initiative to the way he chastised Akashi at mealtimes and made sure he didn't forget the birthdays of the Generation of Miracles and his old Rakuzan teammates.
"You're always retrieving me the food that I want to eat," Akashi said, and his tone was a touch more gentle than it would usually be. "I think it's time for you to get to decide."
"Okay!" Kouki said, and there it was, there was that satisfying smile that thrummed satisfaction up his spine in a slow curl. "I'll take you to my favorite restaurant, then. You don't mind walking, do you?"
"I don't mind," Akashi said. He reached out when Kouki had his coat on, carefully adjusting it to make sure there was no chance of the chill air making its way inside. It was considerably warmer than it had been that night, but that was no reason to be irresponsible. Akashi might actually die if Kouki came down ill, in part because he wouldn't have anyone to refill his coffee. The barista refused to go up to his office with any degree of regularity, and simply sent Kouki up with lattes occasionally.
Kouki grinned again, then led the way to the elevator. It really was charming, how easily he took the lead when Akashi was the one in question. Few people ever took the lead over Akashi.
Really, Akashi was going to have to resign himself to the fact that he was developing a hopeless sort of crush. With any luck, this one wouldn't end as poorly as his last one had. He and Nijimura-senpai barely spoke at all until University, which he was fairly certain was about as terribly as things could possibly have gone.
"It'll be nice to go out to lunch," Kouki said, idly chatter easily identifiable for exactly what it was. Akashi stuck his hands in his pockets as they made it outside. His hands were far too sensitive to risk frost bite. Not that it was likely; they were too far south for it to be anywhere near that cold, but it certainly felt that way sometimes.
"It will be," Akashi agreed. "I should make an effort to leave the office more often."
"You should!" It was forceful enough that Akashi glanced over at Kouki, blinking slowly. "I mean — you're always working really hard. Which is admirable! But you can't work yourself all the time. You'll burn out, right? ...well, maybe not you, but most people would, and it's okay to pretend you're like most people sometimes."
Akashi couldn't help but laugh a little at that. He opened his mouth to respond, then paused when he realized Kouki had stopped walking. "Yes?"
"—Sorry!" Kouki said, starting slightly and taking a few quick steps to catch up with Akashi. "I just — I don't think I've heard you laugh before, is all."
"Oh," Akashi said, because he couldn't think of anything to say in response to that. He knew that he didn't laugh much anymore; knew that he hadn't since the beginning of middle school, and even then it was much less frequent than most people. That was just how things worked, when you were an Akashi. Maybe it would be nice to take a break occasionally and be someone else, for a change, someone that fell in love with their secretary and laughed and went on regular lunch dates. That sounded like a nice person to be, occasionally. "I'll try to do it more often."
"You should," Kouki agreed, warmth leaking out of his tone like the sun on a summer day.
"Yes," Akashi echoed. "I think I should."
--
Lunch was, all things considered, relatively uneventful: they discussed a number of topics, and Akashi considered the various ways that he could frame a confession while he spoke out loud about his affections for cats and how many he hoped to own when he had his own estate. There was never quite an opportunity for the matter to be brought up (Akashi refused to consider that it could have anything to do with his own nerve — he was hardly a coward), and so Akashi and Kouki walked back to the office in companionable silence, boxes of leftover hamburger in their hands.
"Since lunch was your treat," Akashi said, finally, approaching the subject as best he could. Kouki looked at him, eyes curious. "Would you like to go to dinner?"
It was an offer to a date, but Akashi wasn't certain it would be taken as such. He'd certainly seen how hard it had been for Tetsuya to convince his red haired boyfriend that the six dinners they'd had together were, in fact, dates, and not just Tetsuya tagging along for leftovers.
Kouki turned red, stopping in his tracks to look at Akashi.
"Akashi-san—"
"You can call me Akashi-kun," Akashi offered. Kouki's cheeks turned redder.
"Akashi-kun," Kouki said, lowering his voice.
"Or we could go for coffee," Akashi continued, as though nothing at all had been said and the situation wasn't quite possibly deteriorating under his fingertips. He rather wished he could see the future, some days.
"Are you asking me out on a date?" Kouki asked, and the way his voice cracked on the last word was adorable in a way that Akashi had previously only believed small kittens could be.
Akashi considered for a moment, and then let recklessness take him. It tended to work so well for everyone else, and staying too guarded only seemed to lose him things. People. Staying guarded lost him people.
He leaned forward, in the midst of the midday foot traffic, and kissed Kouki lightly. He tasted exactly how Akashi thought: light and warmth and a little bit like ketchup from his hamburger. Akashi pulled back a few seconds later, and waited patiently for something to happen. Akashi was the hero, wasn't he, and he'd just done something drastic — surely the universe would reward him.
When Kouki smiled blindingly bright, Akashi thought, ah, there it is, and let a smile cross his own face.
"I'd love to go out with you," Kouki responded, and he sounded so happy that Akashi wanted to kiss him again and again to ensure that he never sounded any other way until Akashi was good and ready for it.
"Good," Akashi said.
Kouki slipped his hand into Akashi's, careful and slow, and Akashi laced his fingers through Kouki's obediently.
"If you wanted," Akashi said, "you could call me Seijuurou."
Akashi thought, as he watched Kouki carefully, that this was one of the few times he was fully indebted to Tetsuya. Without him, he'd be without both a barista and a — a boyfriend, and he wouldn't be seeing that smile. Hopefully everyday.
The thought was reassuring in a way that most things weren't, in Akashi's life, and Kouki's hand was a solid, warm weight in his own as they walked back to the office.