Akaashi lets his legs dangle off of the side of the roof, sat beside Kuroo and Yaku as the moon glows brighter than usual.
He had never been to Namaso, but it was very far from where he and Kuroo lived. They somehow made it, taking trains and following infinity signs beneath the cover of the nighttime, showing up in time for Bokuto and Daichi to take off as soon as they arrived.
Kuroo was right behind Akaashi once their thighs began to complain about the uphill climb as they reached the top, and Akaashi kept trying to watch Bokuto's car as Kuroo whined of Kenma's absence.
Akaashi's heart kept up with the speed, eyes following blue lights as they painted neons among the dark asphalt of the road.
"Akaashi! Bokuto said you'd be showing up!"
Nishinoya's voice cracks like lightning into Akaashi's clear skies, taking him out of his concentration enough for him to register what he was saying. His stomach falls as he thinks of why Bokuto would even mention him to Nishinoya, let alone anyone else that wasn't Kuroo.
That was weird.
"Um...y-yeah. I told him I'd come today." Akaashi's eyebrows come together as Noya smiles at him, eyes warm and striking still, despite the nighttime. He is buzzing with a stark excitement, like fireflies in a glass jar.
And Akaashi was beginning to understand why.
"You gonna bet?"
The question of betting usually wasn't one Akaashi thought of. He just did it. It was an unspoken thing and he did it out of habit whenever he showed up to one of these things with Bokuto by his side to watch.
His mind reels back to the night at the soba shop, Bokuto's mouth full of cold noodles as they talked about racing, about how Bokuto really felt about it. He liked making money, anyone did, but he quickly felt the guilt in his throat, hot barbed wire wrapped around his throat and digging into his skin, sharp and burning. Now that he thought about it, he doesn't think he bet on Bokuto last time, either.
He didn't even think about it.
It was annoying that he felt this now.
He tries to swallow it down, trying to let his head convince his heart that it was not a big deal, that he was supposed to be betting on Bokuto. If anything, he should be making up for the money he could have won betting on Bokuto last time.
He takes a breath, finding himself lost in his head again, before he finally lets it out, his throat feeling like it was about to burst.
"Not tonight." He shakes his head, and Noya nods.
"That's cool. What about you?" He turns his attention to Kuroo, who nods.
"Yes. I am betting on Bokuto. Fifty-thousand."
Akaashi's conscience grows heavy and he makes a face, watching Kuroo dig in the pocket of his red letterman for his wallet. The wind blows softly through Akaashi's white t-shirt, whispering of bad ideas and a change of heart.
He sighs.
"Maybe you shouldn't bet, Kuroo," Akaashi says softly, and Kuroo makes a face.
Nishinoya's eyes are on him and he laments opening his mouth.
"Why? I know Bo's gonna win this one." He tells him, and Akaashi plays with the silver pendant of his necklace as he thinks of a way to convince him otherwise.
"Nothing wrong with betting. It helps the racers!" Noya pipes up, and Akaashi sighs through his nose again.
"You're...you're right, I guess." Akaashi looks at his feet, watching the stars wink back at him in the reflection of the pendant. "Nevermind."
"Fifty-thousand?" Noya asks, counting the yen as Kuroo hands it to him, replacing the clipboard and pen he had in his hands as Kuroo writes his name beside Bokuto's.
And with that, Akaashi and Kuroo settle on the roof of the pitstop, squeezing beside Yaku and a couple of boys he didn't know. His ears buzzed as Bokuto and Daichi pass the crowd again, wincing at the loudness of the engine.
Now that his head was clear, that he was able to take in his surroundings freely without having to worry about missing anything, he began hearing them.
Akaashi knew about the shit-talking that was supposed to come with races, and he couldn't say he never heard it, but he couldn't help the slight irritation that constricted his chest once he hears Bokuto's name come from some other guys behind among the crowd.
Bokuto needs a fucking loss. I'm so tired of him winning. His car is so loose, it's like he's cheating or something.
He couldn't really do anything, considering this was normal, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't bother him.
Nothing but a Pretty Boy with no skill. No way he's got regular fuckin' tires on that thing.
He lightly lets the heel of his shoe bounce off of the wall of the ledge, trying to find something else to preoccupy him and let out a bit of that annoyance, little by little. There was nothing he could do. They were wrong, anyway.
You think Bokuto will win? I'm hoping he gets a flat and loses by default. That'll shit on his rep for sure.
Akaashi bounces his heel on the ledge a bit faster, feeling like he was set on fire, between the skid of tires around a curve and the cheering. There was a lot of noise tonight.
He doesn't think he'd ever get used to these.
"Hey, hey. Blue eyes."
There is a voice of black velvet behind him, and Akaashi kind of gets annoyed that it was directed at him. Out of the million people at this race, why him?
He and Kuroo turn over their shoulders to face them, and find a familiar-looking boy looking down at him. The moon sits gently on the grey dye in his hair, his hooded eyes curious as they trace Akaashi's face.
He immediately gets self-conscious and recoils.
"Yes?" He asks, and the boy kneels down right where he is, a small smile on his face.
But it wasn't one of those happy-go-lucky smiles, like the ones he'd gotten so used to from spending so much time with Bokuto. It was different.
Like the ones he sees on the faces of guys at the disco.
Akaashi squints.
"Yer Akaashi, right? The one who bet on me a few weeks ago?"
Akaashi nods once and waits for him to continue.
"I was glad to hear that someone as pretty as you had set money on me. Makes me even happier I didn't disappoint ya. I'm Miya Osamu. My friends call me 'samu, so, you can, too."
Akaashi swallows, hearing the engines of Bokuto and Daichi's cars pass by them again before they quickly draw faint, signifying another lap. He was missing the race talking to this guy.
He begins to kick his leg again, heel bouncing against the wall.
"Nice to meet you, Miya," Akaashi says, dully. "Is that all?"
Kuroo raises his eyebrows and turns back to the race, pretending he wasn't listening, trying not to react.
Osamu takes a breath, clearly not expecting Akaashi to be so blunt, but his lips form that same disco smile and he stands back up.
"Was gonna ask if you were gonna stay for Inarizaki later. See if I could getcha to bet on me again."
"Who are you racing against?"
"Shira-"
"Then no." Akaashi shakes his head and glances towards the street, really, really hoping that Osamu could hear his telepathic screaming to just go away .
If Bokuto wasn't racing again later, then he didn't need to stay. Osamu breathes out a wider grin and Akaashi hears the engines once more, coming towards them, blue lights reflecting off of his frames.
"Bo didn't tell me you'd be so stubborn." And that comment makes his blood warm, before Osamu turns to go back where he came from. "I'll see ya 'round, Akaashi."
Akaashi doesn't reply, only tries to catch Bokuto's car among the incoming traffic, which wasn't hard considering he was the only car weaving through them. He's caught in the blue lights beneath Bokuto's car and feels the adrenaline pump into his bloodstream once more.
"You're a dick. Like...a huge cock, you know?" Kuroo grins and shakes his head, as if he taught Akaashi all he needed to know for this specific moment.
"How?" Akaashi asks, looking at Kuroo's side profile, his eyes skiing down the bridge of his nose and searching for any kind of indication that he was joking. "I didn't say anything mean."
"He was so obviously into you, it was hurting me." Kuroo's eyes are distantly following Daichi's car instead of Bokuto's, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're not self-aware. Painfully unaware. Come on, 'kaashi."
"Into me? At all." Akaashi quickly dismisses the thought, not really wanting to entertain it.
He felt bad about it, like he'd be disappointing someone if he did happen to acknowledge him.
Some people were just straightforward, and that's okay.
"He called you pretty, dude."
"Well, he'd be right." Akaashi leans back on his hands and watches Bokuto's car skate around another drift, nearly losing his breath as the screech in his tires catches it.
Kuroo scoffs with a smile and Akaashi chuckles in return as he lightly nudges him.
"Bokuto thinks so, too, you know. So it's better to get yourself off the market before someone like Miya Osamu tries to take you off themselves."
"You're...stupid." Akaashi tries to ignore the dip in his stomach, plunging into cold water at the thought of Bokuto talking to Kuroo about him behind his back.
In a good way, but still strange nonetheless.
They were friends, technically, because friends went out together and supported one another at their jobs, Akaashi thinks, so yeah. They were friends. It was normal to talk about your friends to other friends if you liked them enough.
Akaashi really liked talking about Kuroo to Kenma when he wasn't around, so it made sense.
But...still.
The thought makes fuschia pool beneath the skin of Akaashi's cheeks, a heat flooding into his blood, all the same, wondering exactly what he would say to Kuroo, how he said it, what prompted him to say it.
He was antsy, wanting Bokuto to hurry and finish so he could listen to him shout about how overwhelming it is to speed down a new freeway every week, how scared he was in the front seat, how good his opponent was.
Bokuto was just so exciting, like a beacon catching rays of light and spilling rainbows whenever he spoke, as if he was made of magic.
Akaashi would have believed it a million times over.
"I just think that..."
Akaashi misses Kuroo's voice as it trailed off, and he looks at his side profile again, seeing his dark eyes focused on something else rather than the two cars before him in the shadow of the moon.
Another glare of light bounces off of his frames, and Akaashi swallows and looks up in emergency as the red and blue lights dance against the glass of his specs.
He feels the people beside him begin to stand up, and anxiety coils itself around his bones as voices begin to shout, so much like the last time this happened. Akaashi feels cold, and his body sways with the panicked movements of the people sitting on the ledge beside him as they begin to leave, as they begin to run.
The terrifying thought of falling lightly prods at his mind before Kuroo gets up, waiting for Akaashi to follow suit.
"We have to go." Kuroo says, the panic in his voice obvious as he tries to think.
"All the way to Namaso?" Akaashi's words are shaking with a subtle terror from this same situation, one he thinks he should be used to by now, adrenaline trying to sneak its way in between.
Kuroo nods, and holds onto Akaashi's wrist as they weave through the crowd of people. Akaashi feels small, like he could get stepped on at any moment had he not been careful, his lungs deflating quicker than they could let him breathe.
His head floats off with the stars and he lets Kuroo practically drag him down the hill.
"Akaashi. We gotta get moving." Kuroo says, surprisingly cool as if he's done this a million times.
And while Akaashi appreciated the calmness Kuroo was bringing against the static that made up his head, the thought of him almost getting arrested at races he never mentions makes Akaashi worry a little more than he should have.
Beneath the shade of the trees and the warm glow of the bronze streetlamps, Kuroo and Akaashi make it into the heart of Namaso, sat in the corner of a cheap diner that sold American food, trying to come down from the high of avoiding the police while they could.
Akaashi wasn't sure if he would be able to stomach something heavy, considering he just left Bokuto to try and outrun the cops by himself.
But even then, what could he do?
He was completely powerless - he just came as a spectator. And he knew that things like this happen all the time, and he knew Bokuto was used to it, but...
He was very worried.
"Hey, Kuroo. Did you text Bokuto? Is he okay?" Akaashi asks suddenly, feeling like it was the first time asking about Bokuto's safety since they left the rest stop tonight.
2am was waning and Akaashi felt like he didn't belong, hanging onto the balloon strings of an exhaustion he felt floating off into the stratosphere with every minute spent not knowing where Bokuto was.
"He hasn't responded, yet," Kuroo says, shoving a potato wedge into his mouth and looking at Akaashi's plate. "You should eat your sandwich."
"I will throw it up." Akaashi shakes his head, before his eyes wander out of the window, watching the gold of the lamps reflect off of the black mirrors of the street.
The night felt emptier.
"You worry too much. Bokuto's gotten arrested before. He has an attorney!"
Akaashi shakes his head again and pokes his sandwich with his fork, the metal scraping against the toast and making a grainy sound.
"How are you so casual about these things?" Akaashi asks, and Kuroo shrugs.
"It's not a big deal, 'kaashi. Kenma's races get raided a lot, you get used to it." Kuroo simpers, one of those cat-like ones that Akaashi always hated and Kuroo loved to wear. "I'm sure your boyfriend is completely okay."
"He is not my boyfriend." Akaashi sighs and rests his head on the arm that was on the table, feeling his heart trying to resist falling for what felt like the nth time that day.
Akaashi was hopeless if the mere mention of his name made him feel like this.
"Do you want him to be?" Kuroo asks, tilting his head and wiping off his greasy fingertips with a paper napkin from the dispenser.
Akaashi knew his question held no weight, that he was just being an ass to be an ass, like usual, but he still thought about it.
He wasn't supposed to be thinking about it. Bokuto was a felon.
Class C!
"I barely know him." Akaashi shakes his head, though it was a lie considering they spent time together about once a week, anyway. "No way."
"You don't have to know someone one-hundred percent to like them." Kuroo's eyebrows come together as Akaashi's paper-thin logic tears itself to shreds before it can even come together. "You know that."
"He does not like me like that." Akaashi tries, and Kuroo hums.
"But, I didn't ask about him. I asked about you."
Damn Kuroo.
Akaashi doesn't respond, hating the feeling of being put on the spot like this. The question sparks some memories over the past month, a short time with a lot to think about, had he wanted to. He never really had to think about it until now.
Bokuto was really nice, and Akaashi loved to see the change in his atmospheres whenever he got the chance. He was easy to read, yet so unpredictable. He let him see new things, even if they were just like the things he would do with Kuroo on their free nights off from school.
Akaashi thinks that because it was Bokuto, it felt brand new, something never seen or experienced.
He reminded Akaashi a lot of the Sundays back home.
Often, Akaashi liked to imagine going on adventures, but he didn't have to dream so much when he was with Bokuto.
Akaashi didn't mind being friends with him, because that gave him less commitment. If Bokuto got into serious trouble, he could just act like he didn't know him, and not tarnish his scholarship.
Maybe, if he didn't street race illegally, if Bokuto happened to come into the shop randomly...
Akaashi flushes and tries to subtly duck his head to hide it from Kuroo, hoping the crude LED lights didn't catch the crimson to display.
Damn Kuroo.
Can't he just leave him alone?
"You have a crush ~." Kuroo says in this stupid, sing-song voice that makes the skin on the back of Akaashi's neck crawl.
He reaches across the table to poke Akaashi's cheek, the other smacking his hand away.
"What are you, five?" Akaashi asks, annoyed, and Kuroo hums again.
"Out of five stars? Yes." Kuroo shakes his head as if Akaashi said the most correct statement he's ever said before in his life.
He rolls his eyes and tries his best to eat his sandwich after Kuroo takes the initiative to distract him, but even with all the things to take his attention, his mind keeps spinning back to Bokuto.
It was here when he felt himself regretting not getting his number when he had the chance.