bokuaka one shots

invariably imperfect

a/n - owokay so this got wAY longer than i intended, but i say that in all of my stories and you guys are still here so *grateful smile*. also just a warning, this for long enough that my lazy ass didn't proofread the last 500 words of it so my apologies any grave errors!

anyway, i wanted to warn before we start that there's some MILD (i repeat: MILD. VERY MILD. NOT SPICY AT ALL. LIKE FUCKIN' TACO BELL HOT SAUCE SPICY) sexual content in here 'cause horny teens and stuffs.

"Ooooh, Akaashi's got a date," Bokuto doesn't really hear the words at first. In fact, he processes them with such shallow intent that he almost laughs at the idea - Akaashi never has dates. Never has plans. He spends all his time with Bokuto.

So the spiker resumes on his merry way, planning out the strawberry smoothie he's going to make when he gets home, blissfully unaware of the words perched on his best friend's tongue, soon to spill off and ruin his entire night.

"Please don't make a big deal out of this," is what Akaashi says next, real heart-stopping words that have Bokuto freezing where he stands, half-naked with his head buried in his locker. "It's just a date."

It's just a date. So it is a date.

The prospect hurts like a knife to his chest - Akaashi has a date, and it's not him. Perfect Akaashi who Bokuto might be little in love with. Perfect Akaashi who spends every afternoon at Bokuto's house. Perfect Akaashi who Bokuto always thought would end up with him has a date and it's not with him.

The inside of his locker isn't a particularly interesting place - a spare set of clothes just in case, an old water bottle he never uses, some trash he didn't feel like throwing away, and what he now realizes is a borderline creepy amount of photos of him and his best friend - but he studies it like a foreign text anyway.

He's certainly not going to risk pulling away and having everyone seeing his face flushed red with the prologue of tears. No. Not going to happen. He'll just have to keep his head stuffed in this locker that has never once been cleaned and smells of stale deodorant (however that happens) for the rest of the day until he's sure everyone has left.

"Just a date. Dude, for real, you never go on dates! This is like, a big deal," Konoha seems in the mood to make everything worse. "Consider us your support team, like they have in car races. Right, Bo?"

At the sound of his name, Bokuto slams his locker far too fast, nearly slamming his head in it in the process - maybe that would've been preferable if he didn't have to listen to this physically painful conversation. With the split second he has, he plasters on his biggest, brightest grin.

What is the protocol for when your best friend you're in love with likes someone else and you feel like you're going to explode in tears at any second? No one ever told him, so he resorts to the best tactic he knows, smile. "Smile hard enough and people'll believe anything," his older sister had once told him.

Sure, she was bitter over a breakup and yes, his other sister later told him that was horrible advice he should never follow, but he still subscribes to the policy to this day. So far, it's worked out quite well for him, so who is he to judge what the original motive behind it was?

"Yeah! For sure!" He knows his voice is too loud and strained, but he can't hear it over his heart beating in his ears, so it's a moot point. Konoha makes a strange face at him, eyebrows twisted.

"Dude, you okay? Your face is really red," Bokuto swears he almost dies of embarrassment on the spot - great, as if this situation couldn't get any worse. He's never been good at hiding how he feels, especially when his feelings are strong. Unlike a normal person, his emotions just seem to slip through his fingers. It's most annoying. "You look like you have heat stroke."