blue lights || bokuaka

yellow

By the time the bath was filled with white suds and the smell of lavender, Akaashi found himself sitting on the toilet seat, his hands running shampoo through Bokuto's hair, drowsiness sitting heavy on his shoulders from the exertion of the day.

It was one of those nourishing ones, and it smelled a little like the ocean, reminding him of the winds on the beach back home, that would dress him in sea and a nostalgia that he couldn't wash from his skin, no matter how many times he tried to.

The scent somehow didn't clash with the lavender, as Akaashi thought, creating an aroma like spring.

Akaashi liked it a lot.

Bokuto had his hands over his eyes, trying not to get any suds in them as he screwed them shut. There were healing cuts over his hands from the accident, the bruises on his shoulder and chest more prominent in the light.

Akaashi felt horrible when he looked at them, but he tried not to do that so much.

"Are you okay?" Akaashi asks, and Bokuto nods, making Akaashi accidentally smear the shampoo over his ear.

"Yes!"

Akaashi tries to resist the urge to smile, grabbing the smaller shower head from the corner of the tub and turning on the faucet to a soft stream. He rinses the soap out of Bokuto's hair, trying to be delicate in the way he was running his fingers through it, just in case there were any knots.

Bokuto hums, a short tune that spoke of what he was thinking about today, Akaashi smoothing back the hair from his forehead and rinsing until the water ran clear.

The tune is broken as Bokuto makes a sound of amazement, thinking of something.

"What's your favorite color, 'kaashi?"

Akaashi blinks, letting Bokuto rinse his face off under the shower stream.

"What?"

"Your favorite color. Like...your most favorite!" Bokuto asks again, blinking at Akaashi, the water caught in his eyelashes like dewdrops on grass blades in the morning.

"Oh, um..." Akaashi shakes his head. "I guess yellow."

"Yellow?"

Akaashi nods. "Like, a gold-yellow. I've been liking that color recently."

"What made you start liking the color?"

It was here when Akaashi felt himself run into a brick wall, not really sure himself. He couldn't really say that it was the only color he could think of when asked what his favorite was, that it was a color that brightened skies and lit up rooms.

He couldn't really say that it was the only color housed behind silver lashes and a gaze that held your heart in a careful grasp, because that was weird and he didn't think Bokuto would get it.

"Sunflowers. We have a lot of those because of summer." Is what he says instead, the lie slipping so easily past his teeth that he would have believed it himself.

"Ah. I'll have to buy you a bunch of those to make up for the week!"

Akaashi flushes and continues fixing Bokuto's hair, washing his hands off in the sink as he lets the conditioner sit in it.

"You don't have to," Akaashi says, wiping the thin layer of steam from his glasses with his shoulder, not bothering to dry his hands.

"I want to," Bokuto says, playing with the suds in front of him, floating into the air like clouds. "I'll do it!"

"Okay, then." Akaashi smiles, letting his eyes travel from Bokuto's forehead to the bridge of his nose to his lips, the butterflies fluttering when Bokuto grins back at him. "I'll make space for them."