boxer bokuto | doctor akaashi (pt. 5) Akaashi doesn't give Bokuto time to argue. He just glides away from the sofa, arranging his work bag for the next morning and trying to think about anything BUT his new sleeping arrangements.

By the time they're ready to turn in, Akaashi has worked himself nearly to a panic. He's been thumbing through his book, turning pages at random intervals just so that Bokuto doesn't ask him what's wrong. He can be frighteningly perceptive for someone so easily distracted.

They dance through their respective routines before hovering awkwardly next to the bed, neither sure what to do next. Neither willing to make the first move. 'I, uh,' Bokuto finally says, shuffling in place. 'I'll get in first, since you're going to be up early for work?'

Akaashi nods, trying to keep his eyes off Bokuto's ass as he crawls into bed. He shuffles in quickly after him, pulling the blankets up to his chin and staring at the ceiling. He can feel the warmth of Bokuto's body, heating the space around him. He switches off the lamp.

'Akaashi?' Bokuto's attempt at a whisper has Akaashi wincing, shifting up on his side to try to protect his ears. 'Thanks for letting me stay here.' Akaashi's chest squeezes at the open sincerity, the obvious vulnerability. 'Thanks for taking care of me.'

Akaashi's heart thrums and he smiles to himself, safe in the dark. 'Rest well, Bokuto-san,' he says quietly. Bokuto squirms, clearly trying to find a comfortable position. In the shuffle his fingers brush against Akaashi's arm, but he quickly pulls them back. 'G'night, 'kaashi.'

The room falls silent, but Akaashi stays awake long past the time that Bokuto's breathing evens out, acutely aware of every centimetre of space between them. --

Akaashi wakes surrounded by warmth. Though there's still a sliver of space between them, Akaashi's entire body curls toward Bokuto. A magnet, helpless to the pull. It would take only the slightest shift to bring them together, to slot himself into the curve of Bokuto's frame.

Bokuto's fingers are a hair's breadth from Akaashi's back, their feet nearly intertwined. Bokuto's breath puffs out, warm and comforting against the back of his neck. Akaashi pulls up the blanket, swallows against the bubbling fizz of his emotions, and quietly leaves the room.

-- Work washes over him with the hazy quality of a dream: muted colours, endless corridors, and no clear sense of time passing. Akaashi ends the day drained and edgy, dreading the upcoming club visit before he even leaves for home. -- 'You know, Akaashi, you can stay home.'

Bokuto plucks a piece of beef from his take-out and drops it in Akaashi's bowl, feigning ignorance when Akaashi catches him. 'I'm coming, Bokuto-san.' Akaashi eats Bokuto's offered beef, just to be polite, but pushes the rest of his food around, stomach too unsettled to finish.

'Kuroo is going to be there. He's got some clothes and stuff that he managed to save from the apartment!' Akaashi pushes his chopsticks aside, no longer willing to pretend at being hungry. 'You keep saying that as if it's supposed to reassure me.'

'Aw, come on, Akaashi! Kuroo's like you, you know--super smart! He just comes on a little--' 'Greasy?' says Akaashi. 'Strong,' Bokuto corrects. 'I mean it,' he adds, when Akaashi's nose wrinkles in disbelief. 'I've known Kuroo since we were in middle school.'

Akaashi shudders to think what the two of them must have gotten up to back then. 'You might not believe it, but Kuroo's not naturally super confident like me--' Bokuto puffs up at the self praise, '--or as bossy as you. Underneath all that, he's actually pretty shy.'

Akaashi gapes, ready to lecture on the exact definition of 'bossy', when Bokuto plucks up another piece of meat from his bowl and pokes it into his mouth. He chews resentfully, eyes flashing, but he's pretty sure Bokuto is immune to his glare by now. 'Don't be mad, Akaashi!'

Bokuto pushes his empty bowl away--he'd given Akaashi his last piece. 'You're bossy in a good way--like a caring way.' He brandishes his chopsticks, a poor attempt at being stern. 'But you don't follow your own advice, you know. You're always telling me to eat well, and--'

He waves at Akaashi's food, barely picked over. 'Bokuto-san, I am taking neither medical nor life advice from a man who wants to go back to the site of his stabbing before the wound even has time to close.' He gets up and starts clearing their garbage away from the table.

When Bokuto tries to help, he shoos him away, exasperated. 'Go rest, Bokuto-san. I told you to stop moving around.' Bokuto smiles up at Akaashi, then drops a wink. "You got it, bossy.' Akaashi throws a napkin at his retreating back, refusing to give into the urge to smile. --

When they finally arrive at the club, they slip through a back entrance, Akaashi right at Bokuto's side. Everyone is openly thrilled to have Bokuto back, and he glows under the attention. He's quickly absorbed by the crowd, leaving Akaashi as easy prey for a lurking Kuroo.

'You look tense, Sensei,' Kuroo purrs, slinging an arm around Akaashi's shoulders. 'Don't worry about Bo, he'll be fine.' Akaashi watches as a group of beautiful women swarm around Bokuto, each offering their heartfelt sympathy. 'It certainly looks that way,' he agrees.

Kuroo's hyena laugh quickly draws Bokuto's attention. The moment he notices Akaashi watching, he smiles and gives a goofy wave. It obviously pulls at his stitches, which he tries to cover up. 'I don't think you have anything to worry about,' Kuroo says, clapping him on the back.

'I'm not worried,' Akaashi huffs at Kuroo's retreating back, words swallowed by the clamour of the crowd. -- Alone now, Akaashi makes his way toward the bar. He has research time to use tomorrow, so he can afford to have a drink. Bokuto is obviously going to be a while.

The bartender is just sliding Akaashi's glass across the countertop when someone brushes in beside him. 'Top shelf,' the man says approvingly. 'Ya got good taste.' Akaashi's not particularly in the mood for conversation, but he spins to take a look at his visitor.

He's attractive. Big, but in a different way than Bokuto--less polished. He smiles, hooded eyes downcast, waiting for Akaashi's response. 'Maybe I'm just an easy mark,' Akaashi says, swirling the drink with an easy flip of his wrist. 'And fell for the most expensive choice.'

'Nah.' The man gives Akaashi an obvious once-over. 'Yer definitely not the type to fall for bullshit.' 'You're right,' Akaashi says, eyes narrowed. 'I'm not.' The man bursts into delighted laughter. 'I'm Miya Osamu.' Akaashi gives a slight nod of his head. 'Akaashi Keiji.'

Osamu signals the bartender, ordering two bottles of sapporo for himself. 'So you're not here to fight, I take it?' Akaashi sips from his own drink, scanning the room for any sign of Bokuto. Osamu shakes his head. 'M'here to make sure my brother doesn't get himself killed.'

He turns, then points at a man across the room--identical but for hair colour. That man is obviously a fighter. While not as impressive as Bokuto, he's got the same general build, the same wild glint in his eye. 'Good luck,' Akaashi says. 'Looks like you'll need it.'

'Don't worry, I've got a lifetime of experience.' Osamu takes a long pull from his beer, then leans a little closer. Akaashi tries his best to shuffle back without seeming rude, but there isn't really anywhere to go. 'That bein' said, the little shit can be a handful.'

Osamu moves closer still--close enough that Akaashi tenses, sure now of where this is going. Not wanting it to get there. 'I wouldn't say no to some company while I try to keep him in line.' The offer is flattering, really. But Akaashi isn't looking for any kind of company.

He freezes, trying to think of a polite way to let Osamu down, when someone approaches from behind. 'There you are, 'kaashi.' Bokuto leans over, hooking his head over Akaashi's left shoulder while slinging his arm over the right.

The pose wraps them in a half-hug and Akaashi's muscles instantly relax, even as his heart picks up speed. 'I've been looking all over for you,' Bokuto says softly, turning to speak into the crook of Akaashi's neck. It feels intimate, tender. Akaashi just wishes it were real.