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Sakusa Kiyoomi has spent the last six months falling in love with Akaashi Keiji.
And the funny thing is, he didn’t even feel himself falling. It felt normal, like every piece had just fallen into place. Akaashi Keiji was everything Kiyoomi had been looking for, as if he were a breath of fresh air. Kiyoomi wasn't even looking for him. Falling in love with Akaashi felt like Kiyoomi was sinking under a warm bath after a stressful day.
Falling in love with Akaashi was gradual and effortless, it was relieving and intoxicating in every form. Though if you asked Kiyoomi, he would tell you he wished he hadn’t fallen, or at least hadn’t realized. He wished it was some sort of glitch in his system, he didn’t want this.
Because falling in love with Akaashi came with a problem. One singular issue that Kiyoomi can’t fix in any way. Which is, coincidentally, also the only reason Kiyoomi met Akaashi.
“Keiji!” He heard from a distance, turning his head to see Bokuto approaching Akaashi.
He watched Akaashi smile as he was pulled into a comforting hug, and watched as Bokuto kissed the top of Akaashi’s head, the side of his face, his lips. Kiyoomi listened as an “I missed you too” was breathed from Akaashi’s mouth in between kisses as his arms wrapped around Bokuto’s neck, a smile plastered on his face.
Kiyoomi forced himself to look away just as they parted, and oh how he silently wished that it were him instead of Bokuto.
Because Kiyoomi’s problem wasn’t Bokuto himself, though he could be a bit much, no, that wasn’t his problem.
His problem was that Akaashi Keiji’s heart belonged to somebody else.
And it would never be him.
He’s spent the last half a year falling in love with somebody who belonged to someone else, who loved someone else, and Bokuto was an amazing guy. He looked and treated Akaashi as if he hung the stars in the sky at night.
From what Kiyoomi has heard, they’ve been together since Akaashi’s second year of high school, and fuck, Kiyoomi thinks, that’s a long ass time.
They were the epitome of love.
Kiyoomi couldn’t even think of ruining that, he’d never want to. He’s not that type of person.
Kiyoomi didn’t even want to be in love with Akaashi, he didn’t know why he was. They met during a team get together six months ago when Bokuto brought him, and they had a great time, exchanged numbers, and talked here or there, hung out when Bokuto went out with the team.
You know, that kind of stuff. It’s not like Kiyoomi intended on falling for him, he knew he was taken.
But turns out that fate, also known as Kiyoomi’s universal glitch, had other plans.
—
A few weeks after that awful encounter, he opened his apartment door to a dreadful looking Akaashi.
“Can I help you?” He asked, ignoring how Akaashi pushed past him and into his apartment as if he owned the place, “Um, Akaashi-kun?”
“Do you have any alcohol? Preferably wine.” Akaashi said instead, ignoring Kiyoomi’s question while making his way to the kitchen.
Kiyoomi was frozen solid in front of his door, which he had now closed, god he was so confused, “No, Atsumu drank the rest of what I had.”
He watched Akaashi’s expression shift at the mention of Atsumu, and Kiyoomi realized he used his actual name instead of Miya. “I keep meaning to ask,” Akaashi spoke, pausing in his tracks when Kiyoomi responded, “Are you guys a thing?”
Kiyoomi moved from his position by the door, intent on making it to the couch to sit down again, “Um… no?”
“Oh weird,” Akaashi mumbled, opening Kiyoomi’s fridge, “Everyone thought you guys were together, guess they were wrong.”
Kiyoomi ignored the semi-relieved tone in Akaashi’s voice, maybe he imagined it. He returned to his original question, also ignoring the knowledge that everyone thinks he and Atsumu are an item, “What are you doing here?” He asked again, though he didn’t know why. If it were anyone else, he would be fuming at the sight of them rummaging through his belongings.
Akaashi paused, closing the fridge after not finding anything worth his time, “I was heading over to Bokuto-san’s apartment and thought I’d drop by, haven’t talked to you in a while.” He said as if it was common knowledge, and part of it made Kiyoomi smile, knowing Akaashi had thought of him.
Because it was true, they hadn’t spoken in a few days.
Though there was one part of that sentence that irked Kiyoomi, and it wasn’t necessarily the mention of Bokuto.
“Bokuto-san?” He repeated, and Akaashi frowned, “You never call him that.”
“I call him what I want to, and now it’s Bokuto-san, just the same way I call you Sakusa-san.” He stated matter of factly, and something about it drove Kiyoomi up the wall.
Akaashi was back to rummaging through Kiyoomi’s kitchen, and that’s another thing that’s thrown him off since he got here. Akaashi never does stuff like this. He’s always formal, polite, and kind, and every adjective in the book is under that. He’s never this… Kiyoomi doesn’t want to say disheveled, but it’s true.
And now that Kiyoomi is really looking at him, he’s noticing how tired Akaashi looks. He looks angry and confused, depressed or lost even. He looks bad.
Kiyoomi still hadn’t made his way to the couch, he was still standing in the doorway of the kitchen, slightly leaning against it, arms crossed as he watched Akaashi work. It was sad, he thinks.
Then another thing dawns on him. Akaashi doesn’t drink. Like, ever. Maybe a glass of wine here or there, at least in the time Kiyoomi has known him, but he’s never seen him explicitly ask for alcohol. This behavior was extremely out of character.
Something told him he needed to do something. Akaashi was spiraling.
“Akaashi,” Kiyoomi spoke out, removing himself from the doorframe and toward Akaashi, who was still rummaging. “Akaashi,” He tried again, and nothing.
He walked up to him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder, “Akaashi look at me.”
And that seems to snap him out of it, making him look up at Kiyoomi with tears in his eyes, along with a look of confusion.
“Akaashi, what’s gotten into you?” Kiyoomi asks, his hand not moving from Akaashi’s shoulder.
But Akaashi is still looking at him like he’s lost his damn mind, and Kiyoomi realizes it’s probably because he’s touching him, and Kiyoomi hates touching people, this is a known fact. He removes his hand gently and clears his throat, “What happened?”
Akaashi sighs, blinking a few times to get rid of the tears, his glasses fogging a bit, and says the one thing that’s going to flip Kiyoomi’s entire world upside down.
“Bokuto-san and I broke up.”
And that’s how they end up on Kiyoomi’s couch, Akaashi a crying mess, explaining everything as if he hadn’t talked to anyone about it before.
Kiyoomi finds out they broke up because they’d had a previous conversation about Bokuto putting all of his attention into volleyball and not enough into Akaashi, talked it out and Bokuto said he’d work on it, then he came to visit one day and Bokuto sat him down and said he wasn’t treating Akaashi the way he should be treated, leading to another conversation to decide what they wanted to do.
It ended in a mutual breakup, more on Bokuto’s part than Akaashi’s from what Kiyoomi could gather, and Akaashi was not taking it well.
“He said it would just be a break until he got better and could treat me better, but he asked me to come over and get my belongings today, that’s why I’m over here,” Akaashi explained, sniffling, “And I just can’t do it. I don’t even want my shit back if it’s for good. Anyway, I knew you lived along the way, so I decided to stop here and I don’t even know why.”
“You wanted a distraction,” Kiyoomi mumbled, understanding.
Akaashi nodded, “Yeah I guess. I also just wanted a friend. Kenma’s out of town with Kuroo so I knew they wouldn’t be any help, and I know I can trust you.”
Kiyoomi smiled at that, “You’re welcome here anytime, Akaashi.”
Akaashi smiled back, taking his glasses off to wipe the tears off them before pushing them back on his face, “Thank you, Sakusa-san.”
He was very fond of the idea that Akaashi trusted him. Akaashi didn’t trust people easily, and he was a bit of a sarcastic asshole at times, so to earn Akaashi’s trust was like earning a gold medal. Kiyoomi was relieved and comforted, that Akaashi felt comfortable enough to tell him this.
Akaashi needed a friend, and Kiyoomi was happy to give him that. He was happy to give him something he needed.
He could be friends with Akaashi and has been for the last half a year, just because he’s single now doesn’t change anything. He can continue to be friends with him without letting his emotions get in the way.
Akaashi didn’t go to Bokuto’s that day.
—
Kiyoomi was confused.
He doesn’t think friends is the correct term to describe what he and Akaashi are.
Sure, they’re friends. They’ve always been friends, at least to everyone who knew them. They’re friends who hold hands sometimes, cuddle, and throw themselves at each other after a long day. Friends who go on “dates” and spend the majority of the time together when not busy, friends who watch movies together and drink together, tell each other everything.
Or well, that’s how Kiyoomi is seeing it now, a month and a half later.
There was something special about his growing “friendship” with Akaashi.
They’ve gotten to know each other a lot more than he thought he would, and it wasn’t supposed to end up this way, he was just supposed to be Akaashi’s friend. Y’know, help him get through this tough time. He knew Akaashi needed the support, and Kiyoomi was happy to give it to him.
Though Kiyoomi wasn’t necessarily complaining.
Since Akaashi’s impromptu visit almost two months ago now, he started stopping by a lot more often than either of them had intended. It was nice, Kiyoomi thought, to have someone to spend time with who wasn’t a teammate or his cousin.
But then things started getting weird.
Well, not weird, definitely not weird, but unusual. Hence the newfound comfort and casualness.
It started with a kiss.
One innocent, simple kiss that flipped Kiyoomi’s entire world upside down, because he liked Akaashi, loved Akaashi, he knew that, and this was new territory even he didn’t know how to conquer.
Because Akaashi was going through a breakup, he knew he didn’t feel the same way, or at least he thought he didn’t. Sue him for what happened, it was out of his control.
Except it really wasn’t, he had every control in him to not do what he did.
They were sitting on Kiyoomi’s couch one evening after practice watching some random movie that seemed interesting, a bottle of wine and two glasses sitting on the table in front of them.
The bottle of wine was long gone at this point, and the movie was just about over. Another ending to a simple night spent between the two, just like it had been going for almost a month at this point.
They had a meal, often Akaashi would bring takeout with him or Kiyoomi would cook something, then they’d drink a glass or two of wine and watch a movie or mindlessly scroll their phones, they’d talk about whatever came to mind, then Akaashi would leave and show up again the next day or day after.
It became a routine.
Kiyoomi liked it a bit too much. The domesticity.
This night was different though. Kiyoomi wasn’t paying attention to the movie at all, instead, he was thinking about all the time they’d spent together in the last month. Were the small gestures and knowing smiles and passing glances just that? Gestures?
He knew whatever they had was just casual, friendly even, but really, what’s friendly about being in love with someone who was going through a horrible breakup? What’s friendly about staring longingly at someone you know you can’t have?
Kiyoomi could get lost in Akaashi’s eyes if he stared too long. He honestly thought Akaashi felt the same at some points.
Like the way their hands or knees slightly brushed because Kiyoomi’s couch was too small, and neither of them would pull away. The way tonight, it felt as if Akaashi was sitting a little bit closer than usual, letting his leg touch Kiyoomi’s.
Kiyoomi didn’t move.
Was it all some kind of fluke? Kiyoomi didn’t know.
When the movie ended, Akaashi grabbed the empty bottle of wine and reached for the glasses, ready to excuse himself.
“Wait I’ll get it,” Kiyoomi said, taking the bottle out of Akaashi’s hand and reaching for the two glasses himself, to which Akaashi scoffed.
“I’m the guest, Kiyoomi, you don’t need to clean up after–”
“Did you just call me Kiyoomi?” He interrupted, freezing in place, almost dropping the glass he was holding. He looked up to see Akaashi beet red, turning his face to the side. Kiyoomi found it cute. He was flustered. But he couldn’t say anything, he felt his face heating up too.
“Shit, I’m sorry, it just slipped out, I didn’t mean to,” Akaashi explained frantically, trying not to make eye contact with Kiyoomi, glancing at his phone and awkwardly pushing up his glasses, “I need to get home, the trains stop running soon.”
Kiyoomi frowned, “It’s only ten, Akaashi,” He counters, “Quit panicking.” He said before picking up the glass and taking it all to the kitchen where he discarded the wine bottle and gently placed the glasses in the sink.
Neither of them mentions it.
He chose to ignore the way his heart almost stopped when he heard his name from Akaashi’s mouth, thankful for the excuse of the wine for his blush, but god he wanted to hear it again .
Maybe it was a glitch, he thinks.
When he got back to the living room, he found Akaashi in the same spot as when he left, still very red, and looking down at his phone.
“Akaashi?”
“Hm?” He said, glancing up from his phone, “Oh, yeah I was just leaving.” He pockets his phone and picks up his keys from the table, “Thanks for having me Sakusa-san.”
He begins the walk to the door, which Kiyoomi follows, and before he opens it, Kiyoomi stops him.
“Kiyoomi.” He says blankly, his hand resting on Akaashi’s shoulder again.
Akaashi turns around, confused, “What?”
Fuck, Kiyoomi hadn’t realized how close he stood. He chooses, again, to ignore the way Akaashi’s eyes fell to his lips quickly before back to his own.
God, Akaashi had beautiful eyes.
Don’t get distracted, Kiyoomi.
He sighs, “Kiyoomi. Call me Kiyoomi.”
Akaashi blinked, processing, “Kiyoomi.” He said softly, merely a whisper, and it confirmed that Kiyoomi adored the way it sounded coming from Akaashi’s mouth.
Kiyoomi was two steps away from doing something he wasn’t sure he was allowed to or would regret.
He thinks it over for a few very long seconds before deciding, fuck it, whatever happens, happens.
Kiyoomi leaned down and closed the small gap between the two of them, quickly finding out that Akaashi’s lips were just as soft as they looked. Akaashi froze for a second before kissing him back. He tasted like cherry wine. Kiyoomi liked it.
Kiyoomi liked it a bit too much.
Definitely a glitch, but Kiyoomi was enjoying every second of it.
If Akaashi kissed him back with urgency as if he needed this, his arms looping around Kiyoomi’s neck to pull him closer, if only for a second, then it was just between the two of them.
And if Kiyoomi felt him smile against his lips, giving him one more quick peck before pulling away and uttering an “I’ll see you, Kiyoomi,” before leaving his apartment?
Well, that’s between them too.
Kiyoomi decided he really liked how his name sounded from Akaashi’s mouth.
And boy if only Kiyoomi knew how deep he was, it was only the beginning.