Chapter Text
Akaashi’s apartment was so lonely.
Really it was kinda the worst place to be when you felt like shit. But there Bokuto was, sitting next to the kotatsu. Not under it, just next to it. It wasn’t even turned on. The whole place was cold. His socks were wet thanks to a walk from the train with no umbrella. There wasn’t much he could do until he stopped shaking. He’d hardly been able to type in the key code to the door, his fingers were trembling too much.
From cold, and from other stuff.
It was weird, getting yelled at about how much people cared about you. Well, not too weird. His parents did all the time. So, it was kinda maybe weirder getting yelled at by yourself about how much people cared about you. While Akaashi was inside you doing the yelling.
Not like that.
But weird wasn’t bad. Weird made him feel really strange, and sad and happy at the same time. Weird was something he was trying as hard as he could to think about, because maybe what Akaashi had said could give a little context to some of the really rotten things he’d seen the team do to him. But he couldn’t focus on it.
What made him feel bad was that he’d pretty much confessed. He’d tried to force the feelings into a locker, but they were too big. Akaashi’s brain wasn’t really good at big feelings like this. It tried to break them down into tiny little pieces, so that he could think about every one by itself. Which was good for some things, but maybe not people being in love with you. Cause if he was really honest with himself, Bokuto was in love with his setter. His vice-captain. His best friend. Even though it was a really stupid thing and you couldn’t be both, he was.
Not that Bokuto’s brain was good at feelings either. If he’d been himself, the stupid accidentally confession would have turned into something enormous. Every bad thing that he knew he was deep down would have turned into a ball of frantic emotions. Something that rolled around in his head till he couldn’t do anything anymore.
Everybody called it dejected mode, even though they’d never told him about it. He hated that name. He wished that there was something else they could say that didn’t make it sound like he was doing it on purpose. Like it was a button he could turn off and on whenever he got his shit together. That if he was stronger, just worked harder, he’d stay in undejected mode and nobody would have to deal with him being such a hassle.
He was strong. He worked hard. He carried the team the best he could, which was pretty damn great, considering they were going to Nationals again. Good enough to be the number four high school ace in all of Japan. How could you do all that and still be a hassle? A handful? Or did everyone treat him like they did because they needed him for volleyball? Just using him to get what they wanted. Akaashi said they liked him. But… how could think he was a handful and like him at the same time?
It didn’t make sense.
There wasn’t anything to do sitting next to the kotatsu. He might be a handful, but he was hungry and no one could feed him right now but himself.
The buzzing feeling started when the omurice was finished and he was sitting down to eat it. He’d turned on the kotatsu and the television to see that ice skating anime that Riko and Hoshi liked so much. He had no idea what was going on with that, so he switched to some game show that was really stupid and really funny.
By the time he finished his dinner, it kinda felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin. The buzzing had managed to stick itself under his bellybutton and it stayed there. Even though the feeling was different than what he was used to, it was pretty obvious what it was. Except he was too distracted by the sensation to realize it. He started bouncing his leg, and stopped paying attention to the television. Not really focusing on anything, one hand started gripping his thigh, the other slowly rubbing his abs.
He realized he had a semi about the same time his phone hooted with a text from Akaashi.
>>As I said this morning, just take care of it Bokuto-san.
Akaashi’s bed was softer than he expected. It felt like he was somewhere kinda fancy, not trapped in someone else’s really horny body about to take that guy’s dick out. Well, thinking like that reminded him that he was, in fact, doing those things, but still. He was in a nice, soft bed, maybe in a hotel or something. Not a love hotel, a hotel because… because they were in Brazil! Playing volleyball for some super special thing that he’d made up for the fantasy. He and Akaashi would share a room for captainy reasons, but there would only be one big bed when they got there. Bokuto would offer to sleep in the tub, or on the floor, and Akaashi would say that’s ridiculous, Bokuto-san.
They’d take showers, Akaashi would go first, and then…
Bokuto slid off his track pants, leaving himself in just his underwear. Akaashi’s bedroom was cold. He had a dumb hope that maybe the temperature would calm down whatever it was that made him want to jerk it in front of two mirrors so he could see Akaashi’s panting face and tight little ass at the same time. So he could watch what kind of faces he made when he–
No. He was not gonna bring this weird body switched situation into it. He was just going to have a regular fantasy like when he got himself off normally. And Akaashi was involved in those a lot. So as long as he didn’t look at Akaashi in any way shape or form, he could pretend it was just his regular body and he was jerkin it at Akaashi’s apartment for some reason. That was weird, but didn’t cross any of the lines he’d decided on.
So back to Brazil.
Bokuto would just be in his towel, one of those big Western ones. He’d be dripping a little when he came out of the bathroom, and Akaashi would be in their bed, naked somehow. He never really took the time to figure out why he was naked in this sort of fantasy, but nerves insisted on more of a story this time. So he tried to fill in the blanks.
Tried.
He’d be lying there, big feet, strong calves, thick thighs and...
All Bokuto had to do was look, just pull down his briefs and look to see what and looked like. But he wasn’t going to do that, because in the crazy chance that maybe, just maybe, he and Akaashi did this someday, he wanted to see him for the first time from the outside. So he did what he always did, assumed that Akaashi was naked and skipped to his face.
Akaashi would smile a little, really a little it wouldn’t be convincing otherwise and say something about blowing off steam and then Bokuto would ask why and his hand was slipping into his briefs and he was hard and unfamiliar in his unfamiliar hand. But a dick was still a dick and he could probably figure it out.
Back in the hotel room he was imagining, they were both on the bed somehow, and Bokuto was dripping water from his hair all over the place. Akaashi was across from him, just a little too far too kiss, and he’d lean to kiss him, and Akaashi would roll away and say you’re going to need to work harder, Bokuto-san.
He wrapped his fingers around Aka– no, himself, and gave a tentative stroke.
It was like the first time he discovered getting off for real. He didn’t know where anything was, or what felt good but he knew it felt fucking great. There was already enough pre to last him at least halfway through, or maybe less he didn’t know how long or short this was going to take. He moved his hand a little different and his toes curled.
I’ve been thinking about this for a long time Akaashi would say, because he was under Bokuto and they were kissing, and bumping against each other just a little bit. Bokuto could open his mouth and just say it in his voice so he’d know what it sounded like. But he didn’t. He was already taking this too far, even though Akaashi had told him and texted and basically demanded that he do it. He knew why now. Akaashi was like, the horniest person in the world. Well maybe not, he’d only ever been inside two bodies before.
Not like that.
But Akaashi was definitely hornier than him. And he felt so good… back in the fantasy where they were just grinding, because really Bokuto hadn’t ever done anything else (or even that, actually). He could pretty much get off in like thirty seconds thinking about any version of Akaashi and he was gonna now his legs were tight and trembling and his abs were tensing so much that he was going to snap in half, and his mouth dropped open and he couldn’t close it and this sweet whine came out that he couldn’t stop and he forgot everything else in the world except that sound so when he came, he came all over Akaashi’s practice shirt, all the way up to his chin.
He lay there, breathing heavily, feeling the difference in the way Akaashi took breaths, in the way the heavy blissed-out feeling soaked through everything. The way he felt from the inside out. With the back of his hand, he wiped off his chin. He wouldn’t look at the cum, he wouldn’t, just wiped it off on his shirt. Akaashi’s shirt. Which he had to wash right away, and Akaashi would come home and see it hanging to dry and he’d know. He’d know.
Like everything else he already knew. Like he knew that Bokuto wanted to confess to him, the way no boys ever confessed to other boys in their school. Like he knew what it was like inside Bokuto’s head, how crazy it was, and how wild.
He pulled the shirt over his head so that it was inside out, then threw it on the floor. He pulled up his underwear, then pulled on the track pants. He shimmied up the bed until he could slip under the covers.
Akaashi’s brain didn’t feel like crying that often. It was calm, and when things weren’t calm it made it so they were. Sometimes things were too much, and he just stopped existing for a little bit, but even that was calm. His brain had places for bad feelings where you could keep them safe so they didn’t run wild. But like the big feelings, the bad ones didn’t always fit either.
So when shame and loneliness and fear filled Bokuto’s mind, there was no place left for them. And these sad feelings weren’t anything like the ones his brain ramped up and made worse. They weren’t overwhelming, they didn’t fill his brain until he wanted to scream.
No. They were just sad.
What if Akaashi never wanted to talk to him again once they fixed this? What if he thought Bokuto’s mind was just crazy? It was, but Akaashi’d never had to live in it before. What if he thought it was the scary kind of crazy, the kind that was too much? The kind that broke one day and the person left over was useless.
Akaashi knew now, he knew what it was like. But that didn’t mean it would be okay. That didn’t mean he’d stick around, especially now that he knew how Bokuto felt about him.
The sheets he’d wrapped himself in smelled like Akaashi. He wanted to bury himself in the smell and pretend that everything was alright.
But it wasn’t.
It was lonely in Akaashi’s apartment. Nobody heard Bokuto cry like he’d never cried in his life. He cried till Akaashi’s low, quiet voice was hoarse and nearly gone. He cried until his body was trembling because he was so exhausted.
He cried until his phone hooted again.
>>I am coming over for a ‘sleepover.’ Leaving your house now.