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Akaashi is mad at Bokuto, and Bokuto has no idea why.
All Bokuto knows is that he came to the club room a few minutes late this morning, the pouring rain making his run there pretty difficult, and Akaashi had stared at him like he was some sort of monster. Sure, his hair was flattened by rain and his shirt was soaked through, but he didn’t look that bad. At least not enough to deserve the glare he got.
They went through practice as normal, only Akaashi wouldn’t look at him. His sets were perfect, as usual, but whenever Bokuto tried to thank him or praise him, he turned away.
Bokuto looked to Konoha each of these times, who shrugged with a smirk in response. Akaashi’s cold shoulder only made Bokuto want his attention more, so he went all out and tried not to succumb to his anxiety that says he did something wrong.
When practice is finally over and Coach dismisses them after they pack up the equipment, Akaashi wastes no time and rushes straight to the club room without a look behind him. Bokuto’s eyebrows furrow, genuine confusion fogging his thoughts.
So he follows him out of the gym, nearly in a sprint to try and catch up to his setter. It takes a second for Bokuto to catch up, and once he does, he grabs Akaashi’s wrist and pulls him to a stop in the middle of the pouring rain.
“Akaashi!” Bokuto says, turning to stand in front of his junior captain. Akaashi still refuses to meet his eyes, looking down at a puddle to his left instead.
“Why are you mad at me?” Bokuto asks, voice almost desperate. When he gets no reply, he asks, “What did I do wrong?”
The rain falls down on them as they stand on the sidewalk, the harsh droplets of water cool on their skin as it soaks through their clothes. Bokuto watches Akaashi’s eyebrows raise and lips part slightly, the first reaction he’s gotten out of him since practice began.
“Look, ’Kaashi, I’m sorry for whatever I did to make you mad at me. You don’t have to tell me what it was, if you don’t want, but I promise I’ll do better-“
Akaashi looks up then, his eyes gleaming like sea glass on the beach. His curls are dripping with water, the strands already soaked completely. Their jerseys stick to their skin, quite uncomfortably, but the look of passion in Akaashi’s eyes keeps Bokuto rooted in his spot.
His cheeks are flushed, lips parted and eyes screaming the words his mouth won’t speak. Bokuto’s watches as the rain falls between them, sliding down Akaashi’s cheeks and long eyelashes as his cyan eyes flit between Bokuto’s golden ones, his the color of the evening sky hidden behind gray clouds.
Bokuto’s hair was already a mess because he didn’t have time to style it and he’s already been rained on once, so the feel of his hair plastered to his face by rain makes him feel strange. The boys stand in silence, Bokuto wondering what in the world is going on, before he starts to pull away wondering how did we get so close-
That’s when Akaashi finally snaps out of stupor, doing what Bokuto never would have guessed and carefully lifting a hand to hold his smooth cheek. Bokuto’s eyes widen, his surprise too great for his mind to handle, and he barely even knows where he is when Akaashi’s gaze drops to his lips and he pulls their mouths together.
Standing frozen, Bokuto doesn’t know what to do. Of course, he’s actually thought of this moment—more than—a few times, but Akaashi was mad at him; how was this telling Bokuto what he did wrong?
The feel of Akaashi’s lips on his own is too warm and soft to ignore, though, and the sensation alone causes Bokuto’s eyes to flutter closed and his lips to push into Akaashi’s gently.
Bokuto lets go of his junior’s wrist so he can put his hand on the setter’s cheek instead, and he feels Akaashi’s jaw move as their lips begin to glide against each other’s in unison. The water from the rain that drips down their faces slides between their lips, making their kiss swift before they slow and pull away.
Bokuto’s eyes snap open, surprise sending a shiver across his skin as he realizes what they have just done. Akaashi looks back at him for the first time since this morning, and his eyes are full of wonder. His gaze darts around Bokuto’s features, and he smiles after a moment.
“You should keep your hair down more often, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, a hand pushing through Bokuto’s completely soaked bicolored hair. “It looks good on you.”
Bokuto’s jaw drops, and Akaashi simply grins before walking past Bokuto and up the steps to the club room. Bokuto stands in the same place, dumbfounded, until he sees a head peek out from around the corner and pull back quickly when they realize he is looking in their direction.
After a second-long standoff, everyone peeks out from around the corner with grins on their mouths. Bokuto flushes, flipping them off with his special finger before turning and following Akaashi into the dry shelter of the club room.