Chapter Text
“I haven’t seen you here before.. Do you always come here?”
Keiji gave it a thought as he took a sip of his beer. He eyed the man standing beside him, taking note of his features: dark hair, dark eyes, clean teeth, looked to be around 180cm, basic navy blue polo shirt and light brown pants, leather shoes. Must be in his mid to late twenties. Silver watch on his left wrist. Smelled like cigarette smoke.
“No, actually,” Keiji replied with a small smile. “I rarely go out.”
“That’s why,” the man grinned. “I would have easily remembered your face.”
Keiji took another drink to hide his blush, then suddenly flinched when the hair at the back of his neck stood up.
Oh no, Keiji thought morosely.
And in three, two… one:
"Hello, my pretty."
Bokuto Koutarou, his best friend-slash-current room mate, had Keiji instantly wrapped up in his solid arms, his back pressed to his front, nose brushing the back of Keiji’s neck, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Like Koutarou knew exactly how Keiji was craving for any little form of physical intimacy.
And it was fine. Having the Bokuto Koutarou acting like a doting boyfriend to someone intensely reserved like Keiji was just great.
Oh, it would be perfect actually.
If only this dense, overly-affectionate athlete would actually do something about it.
If only Koutarou would slip his rough fingers inside the front opening of Keiji’s pants, worm past his briefs, and put that huge hand of his to good use.
And okay, Keiji might have had a recurring fantasy that starred Koutarou’s mouth on his dick, but he would absolutely be honored to even be chosen to actually make out with Koutarou.
But no, Koutarou just saw him as his Akaashi Keji: his skilled (ex)setter, flatmate and devoted best friend.
Best friend. The eternally single man of their friend group. A best friend whose only two experiences in dating were horrible: first, ditched at the aquarium in the middle of a lunch date; second, told him that eventhough he found Keiji ethereal, that apparenty he’s not his type, whatever that meant. So now, Keiji was someone who needed to be “protected” – because he was 'handsome but reclusive, easily loyal to a fault, and lastly, men were shit anyway'.
Now, Koutarou liked to pretend to be his boyfriend to get a guy off his dick.
The problem was he did it every time Keiji found an interest on a man who has a dick.
Keiji was never going to get laid at this point.
Not only would he be eternally single, he’d be eternally a virgin, too.
Five months since moving in with his best friend and Koutarou had already scared away all of the men that has shown a bit of interest.
He just wanted to be deflowered. Defiled. Debauched. Devoured.
He feared that it would be just him and his red, well-used and loved dildo for the rest of his life. Could one actually wear out a dildo? His was secretly gifted by Kenma, one of his happily taken friends, as a ‘house-warming present’ when he moved in at their building several months ago.
(“Thanks , but is it red because you’re from Nekoma?”, “No, Keiji, the fuck, of course not. It’s for Waseda. School spirit.”)
Hence, said dildo was scandalously christened Seda.
And Seda was definitely worth it seeing as his room mate was Bokuto Koutarou, who had this routine of coming home from his night runs after volleyball training by shedding his tank top the moment he gets in. And like clockwork, Keiji would be politely seated on the couch in full view of their front door, in guise of doing school work on his laptop. Once Koutarou got in the shower, Keiji nearly always had to go to his bedroom, thinking about his best friend being wet and naked and putting Seda to use.
"Oh. Sorry, man, I didn't realize,” said the guy who had been probably flirting with him – oh right, he was still here.
What the fuck was his name? Did he even get his name?
Ah. It was because he could feel the Bokuto fucking Koutarou leaning his front against his back, and it was making him stupid. Like, what-even-was-his-own-name level of stupid.
Keiji could feel the warmth of his breath on the side of his neck, giving him goosebumps and stiff nipples. He watched as the man give them a nod and walked away.
“Fucking dick,” Koutarou murmured, arms still around Keiji.
"Well, he was a nice fucking dick.”
"He looked like he wanted to fuck you, ‘Kaashi,” Koutarou rested his chin on Keiji’s shoulder, his fingers brushing intimately against his abdomen, arms still wrapped around his torso.
This was the thing about Koutarou: he was extremely tactile. Before finding out about him in middle school, Keiji had really disliked being touched outside of volleyball. Then he became part of the team in high school and chose to be stuck around Koutarou, who introduced himself as being haptic and expressive. Keiji wasn’t originally privy to that kind of personality, but once he understood Koutarou and his moods, he found that as a thing of beauty. Appreciative of it, even.
Keiji turned his head, his lips almost brushing across Koutarou’s cheekbone, "Maybe I wanted to fuck him."
Koutarou’s eyes widened, stunned, then gave out a laugh, and all but ruffled Keiji’s hair, “Nah.”
Nah?
This fucker.
Come out to a gay bar, they said. It'll be fun, they said.
They lied.
Because this was not Keiji’s scene at all. He would much rather be at home in his room, reading manga than having some guy trying to buy him a drink.
Yes, he should be into this type of environment, if he wanted to get laid.
It felt like everyone his age was into this – but he knew it wasn't the case. He just felt so out of place. And mostly older men kept trying to touch him.
He really wasn't keen about strangers touching him, which is how he found himself at the bar counter, and not the dance floor. He doesn’t dance anyway. He was almost going to force himself to have fun because that is what he should be doing: meeting new people outside of his tiny circle of friends. And it would be nice to just be kissed and be taken home by someone for a night.
Fuck, okay – so clearly when he thought that he wanted to be fucked by someone for a night, he was thinking of someone in particular, and not just anybody with a dick.
Keiji fought back an eye roll as he leaned his body over, unintentionally touching his ass on Koutarou’s crotch. In his defense, he really just wanted to flag the bartender for another bottle – was that so much to ask?
He felt Koutarou pressed in harder from behind. What the fuck.
Keiji felt Koutaou’s hand drift to his waist, with his other hand placed on the counter, trapping him. His huge body engulfed Keiji’s in a possessive manner (that was definitely not, it’s just Keiji’s wishful thinking).
Keiji immediately relaxed into his touch as Koutarou’s hand glided over the front of his thigh. Then it slid up to even higher on his inner thigh as his pelvis pressed into his.
“He’s still watching us,” Koutarou whispered in his ear with a grin.
Keiji sighed. This more than proved the point to everyone in that bar that he was 'taken'. There would be zero chance of bringing home a guy now.
"You should have asked me to come,” Koutarou said.
"Is that all it takes for you, Bokuto-san?”
Koutarou harrumphed with his fingers pressing hard very near his groin, just a few inches away from his half-hard dick.
Did Koutarou know? Did he know how his body would be reacting when he put on this show? How hot this show of possessiveness was for Keiji? How Keiji wanted to grab Koutarou’s hand and place it on top of his half-mast? For him to palm his cock in the dark while they waited for a bartender to take his order? Keiji shifted his weight to get his hand to creep a bit higher. Stifling a moan, Keiji looked down at the hand against his thigh.
Correct. Koutarou really did have the world's biggest hands.
He had almost obsessively watched these same exact hands give the most powerful spike and the strongest serve. He had set the ball to these same hands. These thick fingers would fill him, tease him, prepare his hole to take him..
"Keiji,” Koutarou broke through his thoughts, thankfully. “You shouldn't be here alone. You leaving a note on the fridge does shit for your safety.”
The hand he had on his thigh gave a quick tug, causing his hips to bump into Koutarou’s front and he almost saw stars.
Twisting his body, Keiji placed his elbows on the bar counter, his ass safely away from temptation, and looked up to his friend’s pouting face. He was so close, but it was the only way to be heard. Keiji had to fight every instinct in his body to close the distance and suck on that plush bottom lip.
"You're not my guard dog, Koutarou."
Koutarou gave a snort, his hands went back to grab his waist and pulled Keiji flush to himself, his leg wedged between his thighs. Keiji flushed. He had to feel that Keiji was getting hard. Koutarou’s strong thigh was almost pushed up against his crotch and Keiji was fighting the urge to grind himself because he swore this devil was doing it on purpose. For what?
"I don't have a death wish – Kenma-kun would kill me if anything happened to you, he actually threatened me, scout’s honor. And I’m a hundred percent Tetsu would happily help him dispose of my body and provide him an alibi."
And there it was.
The only reason he was here. Wake up, Keiji.
Keiji rolled his eyes and gently push him away.
"Fine. I’m going home."
"Yes!” Koutarou grinned as he followed Keiji to the exit. “Wanna watch the new V-League I downloaded with me?”
“Sure.”
Koutarou was naturally adorable. And funny. And loud. And kind. And he always looked and smiled at Keiji like he knew he was interested.
It was always more of a polite smile with an arm wrapped around his waist, his hand possessively low on Keiji’s stomach. He had even buried his face on Keiji’s hair.
And what did Keiji do? Did he push Koutarou away with a laugh to clear the boundaries that they are just friends?
Nope. Of course not. Keiji even curled deeper into him like a purring cat, his skin coming alive at his touch, his usually fretful mind always calm at his proximity.
And it would help if Koutarou was an asshole. But he was the same silly passionate goose he had followed to highschool, and even now to college. He happily prepared Keiji his cartoon-themed bento box for lunch. Made him coffee in the morning. Picked up after Keiji when he left used mugs scattered around their apartment. Massaged his shoulders whenever he noticed Keiji stress quietly over schoolwork.
Bokuto Koutarou was all at once the sweetest man he had ever met and the absolute bane of his existence.
"Say, ‘Kaashi", said bane of existence put an arm around his shoulders, "Do you mind if I could take my best friend for a celebratory dinner today?"
"Celebratory?" Keiji turned, giving him his full attention, the kitchen light reflecting in his deep golden eyes. Oh. Oh.
"Koutarou. Did you get an invite?"
Koutarou gave him that half smile that Keiji loved about him, that very proud smirk. And then Keiji was swept in his arms. Molded to his front, arms wrapped around his waist, lifted off the floor.
Fuck, Koutarou felt so good on him. Would it really be inappropriate for this moment to climb him like a tree?
Probably.
But he was so strong, and he picked Keiji up effortlessly when they were almost the same height. Granted, Koutarou worked and trained like a beast almost everyday. He could probably, no, surely, pick Keiji up and fuck him against a wall.
Would it be possible for him to hold Keiji up, his thighs straddling his face, his hands on his ass as he sucked his cock while standing? There was just something about the fact that he can now easily overpower Keiji with his huge body that really tickled his extremely horny brain.
Keiji tightened his embrace, and he could feel every inch of muscles on Koutarou’s arms and chest.
So he pressed even harder, you know, as a friend.
Keiji could feel him vibrate with excitement and he tried his best to trample down inappropriate thoughts.
"Bokuto-san."
He felt Koutarou sigh and tightened his arms even harder around Keiji.
He knew how hard his best friend had been working on getting scouted, knew what it would mean for his career.
”I’m so proud of you, captain.”
Leaning back so he could look straight into Koutarou’s eyes, he gave him a bright smile and gently caressed his face. All through out his highschool volleyball life, it had been his aim to see Koutarou be in his best mood, to keep him happy and smiling and winning. But now, when the smiles were aimed solely at him?
Yeah – his dick would get hard anytime now.
"We should get Kenma and Kuroo-san to come celebrate with us at dinner. I’ll be buying you a drink,” Keiji continued.
Koutarou softly brushed Keiji’s hair with a mumble of, "It's a date."
Okay, what did that mean?
There was a light cough as Koutarou let him go, saying he’d be late for classes.
Oh, shit. That was right. They still have morning classes.
He wished he held Koutarou a bit longer.
Was there even a point in attempting to seduce someone?
Keiji was so hung up on his best friend and this celebratory dinner was really driving home that point.
Specifically, as he watched a well-bossomed blonde put a hand on Koutarou’s arm while laughing.
Keiji knew Koutarou.
He wasn't that funny.
Okay, just this morning, Keiji thought he was – but that was typically for people who Koutarou was close to, those who get his weird humor. People like Keiji. He always made Keiji laugh with his dumb jokes. But they were best friends since highschool. They already had strong ties.
Unlike this girl, who Keiji had never seen in his life.
“Looks like Bo’s getting some tonight,” a grating male voice said in front of him.
Ah, right. They’re out with their friends.
“Shut up, Kuro,” the smaller man beside him said. “He’s just getiing us some shots.”
“Nah, look at him!” Tetsurou grinned. “Already cozying up to that chick. That’s my boy, Bo!”
“He’s older than you,” Keiji gritted his teeth.
“By a couple months, Akaashi-kun!” Tetsurou winked. “It’s about time, anyway. He said it’s been months since he got any -“
“Kuro, can you zip your mouth, please?” Kenma nudged. Tetsurou smiled and made a zipping action across his mouth. “Keiji, could you please get Koutarou? I need my drink.”
But Keiji wasn’t even listening anymore.
What if Koutarou takes her back to their apartment? What if, when Keiji wakes up in the morning, she was there, wearing one of Koutarou’s shirts, in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee that he had made for her, using the other half of the couple owl mugs Koutarou got for them the day he moved in?
There was no way that Keiji's heart could survive seeing him have a 'morning after' with someone else. He would have to move out. Drop out. Move to another university.
Keiji started sweating on his forehead. He hasn’t noticed Kenma looking at him worriedly.
If Koutarou ever decide to start dating her and spend less time at their apartment – how would Keiji even cope? He was already used to having Koutarou to himself whenever he had free time from school and training. He was already used to them making dinner together and eating on their kotatsu nearly every night. He had even started doing yoga with him in the morning after his runs.. Would he rather run with this girl? He did not want to share him with another person. Keiji wanted all of his attention.
Oh, wait, where were his feet taking him? Ah, they were walking over to where the girl and the hilarious man were sitting, waiting for the bartender.
And Keiji finally caught his eye.
Maybe Keiji should just go and flirt with another man, and then Koutarou’s cockblocking instincts would take over and he would follow Keiji around and intervene. But that would require having to actively find a guy to flirt with and he did not have time for that nonsense.
Nope. Keiji was going in for the kill. He would give him a taste of his own fucking medicine.
He would feel how it was be cockblocked. So that when they go home tonight, Koutarou would have to take care of himself, with just a wall separating them. Then Keiji could use Seda, imagining Koutarou stroking that huge hand of his up and down his hard cock.
Would his dick be proportionate to the rest of him? Koutarou was now a lot thicker than him. Would his cock be thicker as well? He remembered it being thick and fat even while soft when they go to the onsen with the rest of the team. How would it feel inside him? Would it hurt? Or would it feel good when he filled him? Would he even fit - stretch him to his limit? Ruin him for anybody else for the rest of his life? That would be unfortunate: it would mean Koutarou would be his first and last good fuck.
To have the intense passion that Koutarou reserved for volleyball be transferred to Keiji.. He was sure Bokuto Koutarou was the kind of man who would be focused solely on his partner's pleasure. Fuck, he'd probably be set on having them orgasm at least once before he fucked them. He would probably pin Keiji down, throw him around the bed, make him beg hard for his cock..
And with that thought, Keiji stepped into their space as he grabbed a fistful of Koutarou’s shirt, yanking him down, and did the most idiotic thing a straight-A student could possibly do: he kissed him.
He fucking kissed his best friend.
And it was not even a demure kiss.
Keiji kissed him like he was going to eat him alive, like he wanted to consume him. Kissed him like he owned him. And holy shit - Koutarou kissed him back. He parted his lips and kissed him back, his tongue working in Keiji’s mouth. His palm was on Keiji’s throat, and Keiji felt his cock throb with need.
Keiji’s hands were grabbing his hair, his teeth nipping at his lower lip, and his tongue.
His tongue. Fuck, he wanted that tongue to drag across his neck. He desperately wanted to get them to a horizontal surface. Would he keep his hand on Keiji’s throat as he filled him with cock? Would he have Keiji on his hands and knees first, his hand behind his neck pushing him down, before pulling his face so he could take his lips as he thrusted inside him. Would he have his hand on his throat, as he had his upper body curled up off the bed, as he suckled on his nipples? Would he come on Keiji’s face or chest or ass?
Bad thoughts.
Evil thoughts.
He heard a wolf-whistle then a cheer from a familiar distance. Probably Tetsurou.
Enough.
That's what Keiji needed to do. He needed to get out of there before Koutarou read his feelings for him written all over his face. So he pulled away.
Koutarou pressed his forehead to his, breathing heavily, his eyes closed for several beats before opening, his pupils so dilated his usual golden turned almost black, then with a whisper:
"Hello, my pretty."
Keiji’s heart skipped. "I'll see you back home, Koutarou."
Keiji gave a quick smile and a bow at the shocked blonde beside them, then he almost ran out towards the exit, leaving Koutarou with his hand still up where he had been holding him. On the way out, he waved his goodbyes to Kenma and Tetsurou, both of them giving him a two thumbs-up wth the biggest grins on their faces.
There was no way he was going to be able to stick around Koutarou after a kiss like that.
Well, Keiji thought as he stiffly briskwalked back to their flat, at least Koutarou knew now how it felt to get blue balls - a taste of what Keiji had been experiencing for months.