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bokuaka-4510 · 4 years

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Bokuaka: Weakness

hi guys!! I thought I would start posting my Bokuaka dabbles on here. I just started writing, so any feedback/support would be much appreciated :) also most of my stories are multi-chapter (just a heads up!!)

Chapter 1: Flashing Lights

(Here’s the image that inspired the first chapter! Obviously all credits to the crazy talented artist @songrnim on Twitter)

The flashing lights were like a second home to Bokuto- the way they would always blind him when he was at the apex of his spike before slamming down on the ball and being rewarded with that satisfying crunch and throbbing in his hand.

Okay, so maybe he was a little bit of a masochist, but then again weren't all spikers?

"Bokuto-san!" a low voice shouts to him.

He knows that voice better than his own. How many times had he heard it, calling his name with the same pitch, same urgency, same tone, over the last few years?

Akaashi.

As long as it feels good. We'll be sure to clear a path for you.

Sure enough, even Bokuto could see the path in front of him, clear as light. Akaashi's perfect toss, spiraling higher and higher. His legs move on instinct now, tensing before catapulting him into a flying jump, powerful and natural.

The blinding lights.

He squints against them, golden eyes stalking the ball as if there's nothing else important in this world. For a split second it's just him and the volley, his oldest companion.

Then the towering wall appears- three giant blockers seeking to return his spike.

As if.

He glances at his destination- the spot tethering on the sideline, between in and out, on the opposite side of him and the blockers. Arm slinging back, building power and momentum, he waits until the ball is at its peak before smashing it down. Time frozen, Akaashi finds himself captivated once again at the sight known as Bokuto Koutarou in front of him: toned arms, lean body defying physics, attractive face set in determination.

Magnetic.

Tempting.

Enthralling.

Bokuto looks otherworldly, and Akaashi loves the view that leaves him feeling like he's stolen a glimpse of something belonging to paradise, something not meant for human eyes.

Crack.

The ball hurls towards the exact spot Bokuto wanted. A perfect cross-court shot.

Bokuto thinks it should be illegal for something to be so beautiful.

He falls back toward the hard wooden floors, back to reality, where complete and utter silence greet him.

Then, the room erupts into cheers, so loud, so deafening he can't even hear his own heartbeat, but fuck if this isn't what he lives for. Yes, yes, yes!

The crowd is chanting his name, as if he's some divine savior, " Bokuto. Bokuto. Bokuto," and he can hear the reporters struggling to grab his attention from the sidelines.

Cameras on him, fans chanting his name, the dull throbbing in his right hand, well, he's never felt happier.

"Bokuto-san!" he hears the familiar voice boom at him, and Bokuto spins around searching for Akaashi's eyes, always stormy green like an angry sea after a victory.

Instead, he's greeted by tackling hugs from his team mates, who jump up and down with the joy from the victory, riding out the high from their win. He glances up from their hurdle, only to find Akaashi's startling eyes, sure enough sea green, locked on his own. The pretty setter smiles softly at Bokuto, and the spiker finds himself reinvigorated. Untangling his body from the embrace of his team and offering them a light pat on the back as he passes them, Bokuto strides to his best friend.

No, not best friend. They were...?

He didn't know, only knew that best friend was too insignificant a term to describe what they had built the last 5 years together.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Bokuto exclaims as he draws near the other boy, a grin splitting his face.

Akaashi holds up a hand for him to high-five, but the spiker just grabs it before engulfing the shorter boy into a bone-crushing hug. Immediately, Akaashi is enveloped in Bokuto's familiar scent- mandarin, pine, and citrus.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

Akaashi sends a silent prayer to the Gods, please don't let Bokuto-san notice.

"Akaashi," Bokuto whooped in that typical, loud voice of his, "we won! We won! That toss was fucking awesome! You're awesome, wow!"

Akaashi carefully detracts himself away from the embrace. Smiling at Bokuto with a light blush dusting his fair cheeks, Akaashi congratulates him, "Bokuto-san, you're the ace. You gave us that winning shot,".

Well, Bokuto didn't think so. He sucked at tossing and his receives were decent at best, but if Akaashi, who was the smartest guy on the whole wide world- no scratch that- galaxy, was saying that, then it had to be true. Right?

Roaring with laughter, Bokuto smugly grins at him before pointing to chest, which proudly bore the number 1 in a light blue color, " Aha! I guess you're right, Akaashi. I'm the best ace, aren't I?"

Akaashi nods solemnly, now ignoring their ace's words as he focuses more on catching his breath.

"... best setter," Bokuto finishes.

Akaashi eyeballs the spiker, unsure if he heard him correctly.

"What," he pants out, hands resting on his knees, "did you say Bokuto-san?"

"I said if I'm the best ace, then you have to be the best setter, right? Right? Because a good spiker is only as good as his setter?" the star beams at him as he tilts his head side to side, reminding Akaashi of an owl. He almost wants to shield his eyes from the brightness.

Except Bokuto's smile and praise speed up Akaashi's already racing heart. Akaashi tells himself it's from the intense match they just played, but even he scoffs at the blatant lie.

Akaashi can't help the genuine smile, the one only Bokuto can only lure out, that graces his face, "Huh, I guess so Bokuto. Maybe we're just a good team in general,"

Before Bokuto can even respond, the coach calls their names. Bokuto and Akaashi. They're the only ones left standing on the court. They head over to the sidelines where the coach and the rest of the team sit before coach congratulates them for winning the first game of the season.

Which is followed right by Coach ordering them to go do 5 minutes of suicides and 3 laps of dives for every mistake they made, which was, according to Akaashi's calculations, a lot. He stopped counting at 16. Of course, most of them were made by Bokuto, but as Akaashi steals a glance at the star ace congratulating the rest of the team, arguing with Kuroo on who stole the spotlight, ruffling the freshmen's heads in genuine affection, he discovered he didn't care the slightest about Bokuto's contribution to their punishments.

They won.

Bokuto was happy.

To Akaashi, those were the only two things that really ever mattered, though not in that particular order.

"Ah, Bokuto-chan," the Coach cuts in his gruff voice, "I think the reporters wanted to talk to you. Go head over to where Hoshiumi-chan and Ushijima-chan are. They should be almost done,".

Bokuto suddenly stands erect and offers the coach a mock salute, a crazy grin on his face. With a roll of his eyes, Coach pushes his player away, but Akaashi catches the ghost of a smile on Coach's face as he turns around.

"Try not to embarrass us too much, ok horned bastard?" Kuroo calls out behind Bokuto with his signature shit-eating grin that typically put anyone on edge.

But Akaashi has known the dark-haired boy for just as long as he's known Bokuto, so Kuroo scares him about as much as a kitten does. Bokuto must feel the same because he just sticks out his tongue at the seemingly menacing man. Akaashi's eyes trail Bokuto's disappearing figure, watching him high-five the two other celebrity spikers as they pass each other. Ushijima and Hoshiumi return to their team, taking a seat right behind Akaashi.

After a rather long (and bad, the Coach was not particularly adept at expressing positive emotions, Akaashi noted) inspiring speech by their sensei, the team heads out of the gym, talking and laughing amongst themselves, all of them in high spirits, especially after Ushijima quietly announces he would be attending post-game drinks with the team, courtesy of Heishi-san.

Apparently, miracles do happen.

In the middle of Hoshiumi's monologue (something along the lines of "Take that Hinata, you orange piece of crap! I scored 7 points in the second set. I hope you get sand between your ********* and spend all your ******* days getting **** by crabs. Akaashi started tuning him out after he learned four new expletives), Akaashi picks up on Bokuto's voice amongst the cacophony of noises in the auditorium.

It's not like he was diligently looking for the spiker. That would be ridiculous, right?

"-but my team rocks! Akaashi, he's my setter, and Kuroo and Ushijima-kun and Hoshiumi-kun and Heiwajima-kun and everyone else is crazy talented! They all make me want to be a better wing spiker," Bokuto raves. The reporter in front of him looks a bit star-dazed, pupils dilated and mouth parted open, as she continues her interview with the attractive rising star.

Akaashi briefly wonders if she's even paying attention to the conversation, but he honestly can't blame her. Akaashi spent five years accustoming himself to the glory of Bokuto, and he still has to remind himself not to drool when he sees him. Six feet of pure muscle, striking golden eyes, and sharp, handsome features make up the man known as Bokuto Koutarou. The elite spiker stands proudly as he converses with the pretty woman in front of him, completely oblivious to the effect he has on her. He's loved by all of Japan, and probably soon the whole world. Even the court adores him as it seems like the bright gym lights spotlight his lean, muscular figure, emphasizing the number 1 on his back.

Akaashi stares at his back, noticing the way the white jersey hugs his muscular frame a little too snugly, back muscles tensing and relaxing every time Bokuto moved or laughed.

Yeah, Akaashi thought, Bokuto definitely looks good in white.

It's the last he sees of Bokuto before they part ways.

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