August brought a gentle heat that seemed to spread across the entire city of Jinsoku in one soft sweep.
The nights were cool and sometimes rainy, bringing that subtle shift into autumn that Akaashi could hardly wait for all summer.
And, along with less heat and humid days, August also brought him extra time.
Akaashi spent the three weeks he was off from school with Bokuto - not that he planned to - but he kind of got roped into his impromptu adventures, and he was not complaining in the slightest.
He would spend most of the day working and talking to Kuroo during breaks, counting the minutes and hoping the clock would just spin a little faster for the day, and as he got home, Bokuto would be there, waiting and leaning against his car like he belonged in some sort of Hollywood movie set, just to ask Akaashi out on a date.
It kind of felt like a movie in itself, once the night protected them from the responsibilities of tomorrow. They would often jump the fences into parks that were closed for the day, sneak into beaches to sit on the shore and listen to the hums of the tide and each other, or go dancing at the disco, dressed in pretty button-ups and abandon buckled beneath their belts.
And Akaashi never called them dates, but the word obligation didn't fit either. It felt too heavy in his mouth, and he could always feel his heart try to catch it before it left because it didn't sound right.
In fact, when Bokuto would throw his head back in a laugh, when he would look at Akaashi like he was made of shooting stars and moonshine across the table at restaurants, when he would take his hand and lead him down the sidewalks beneath dull streetlights...
The word obligation started sounding more like a want, maybe a need, to see what else Bokuto had to offer, finding ways to break the rules with Akaashi, even when he was not racing.
Akaashi liked to call him a bad influence, but with the way the world started to shine that much brighter in neon blues and golds, he didn't think he'd like a good one so much.
The August heat favored seeking refuge in the spaces of Akaashi's chest, filling his heart with the same delicate sun behind Bokuto's smile, and he would find himself hiding a grin under his free hand while Bokuto beamed, his hand in his.
If you told Akaashi he'd be staying out past midnight and riding in the passenger's seat of a street racer's car, he would laugh at you.
Now, that's really all he wanted to do.
He hated to admit it, but he could see why people broke rules.
It was kind of fun, or...
Hm.
Whatever .
It was wet today, the last of the summer leaving a vengeful mark across the city. Soft kisses of rain pelted the sidewalk and slid down glass panes, making a gentle tapping noise on the windows of the shop. The clouds were smoky and low as they blanketed the town in a dull heather, a silver that Akaashi doesn't think he could ever get used to, no matter how many times he saw it, no matter how many different forms it came in.
Akaashi was working, spending more time than he really should have on a bouquet to set in the display by the door.
He was using much bigger flowers today, the shop receiving a shipment of more white lilies and hibiscuses for a seasonal change into August. Akaashi always liked hibiscuses, finding their satiny petals beautiful, gossamer beneath his fingertips when he touched them.
The ones that were sent in were a vibrant hot pink that reminded Akaashi of the neon signs at his favorite convenience store.
He really hoped for a little more traffic today, just so he could sell this off, or have more people see how pretty they looked, too.
And then he thought he was being nerdy, so excited over a hibiscus shipment, and he tried to think of something else instead.
Akaashi blinks, stretching his arms out in front of him once the vase was filled with the flowers and extra green foliage he found in the buckets. Sighing, he picks up the vase from the maplewood desk and goes towards the front door to set this on the empty display, smiling and nodding politely to the elderly couple he'd sold a few flowers to beforehand.
He carefully sets the vase on the display, relishing in the way the soft sunlight pours over the petals, filling the vase and making abstract shapes on the hardwood floor from the company of the vase.
He lets himself warm in the sun, taking a few breaths and thinking about what to do today after work.
It was not Tuesday, so he'd have to meet Kuroo back at home. He was thinking Bokuto might have something planned for them to do together, but he really tried not to let that stroke of hope come to light, just in case he began to get too dependent on his happy avenue.
That was the one flower he tried not to let bloom so quickly, though it was trying its best to break through his surface.
Finally, Akaashi lets a breath out, and stretches again, before making his way back to sit on the stool. He leans forward a bit and rests his head on his folded arms, feeling his skin buzz and his joints tire themselves out for the day.
He needed a break.
"Daisy, Daisy~!"
Akaashi blinks, and is pulled back into his environment by the giggles of the butterflies in his stomach and the sight of gold in front of him.
The same gold that occupied his headspace when he was putting together a bouquet or passing cat cafes or walking to rest stops for street races at night. The same gold that spun itself around Akaashi's conscience and was tied around his heart with a neat little ribbon to keep it together.
The same gold that Akaashi was seeing within more of his daydreams and every thought and reverie in between.
He couldn't really put a cap on how much he liked having company on his adventures, nor how much the butterflies danced every time Bokuto came around and looked at him with Polaris behind his eyes.
"Hello, Bokuto." Akaashi watches him practically bound toward the desk, his hair falling into his face without being styled today, and he was wearing that one yellow hoodie that Akaashi liked so much.
It was not gold, but it was close enough and Akaashi thought the color yellow was so fitting for a person like Bokuto Koutarou.
"It's Thursday! What are you doing tomorrow?" He asks, but that last question comes out as an exclamation, too, and Akaashi can't help but feel his spirits lift at the enthusiasm.
He looks at the desk, trying to think clearly when all of his thoughts crashed into one another, a pileup on the busiest freeway the world has ever known. Bokuto is close across the desk, the same distance customers stayed whenever they were buying a bouquet, but he doesn't think he'd ever get used to it so long as Bokuto was the one standing there.
There is a faint linen smell and Akaashi finds more Sundays in the way Bokuto was smiling at him today.
"Nothing, really. It'll be Friday. Are you racing?" Akaashi asks, the words second nature, but sounding so foreign coming out of his mouth.
He couldn't imagine asking an illegal street racer when their next event was, just to go watch it.
For free at that.
"I am! I came to see if you would come and cheer for me." Bokuto asks, and Akaashi catches the glint in his eyes when he nods. "It's not supposed to rain tomorrow."
"I wouldn't miss it."
"You know, it makes me feel a lot more confident when I go out there, knowing you're watching," Bokuto says, absentmindedly as he looks at the ceiling, not noticing the flush over Akaashi's cheeks at the implication. "Your support means a lot to me, 'kaashi!"
Akaashi tries to resist the urge to smile when Bokuto's voice picks up his name, emphasizing his incitement that much more with so little effort. Every word was a trumpet fanfare, so brazen and loud and important that he felt like there should be red carpets rolled out just for him to speak.
"Yeah, well..." Akaashi looks at the maplewood again. "We're friends, aren't we? I'd be a terrible one if I didn't support you..."
"You are too good to me, Daisy!" Bokuto shouts, and Akaashi ducks his head, as if it would help him not be seen by the nearly empty flower shop.
"Bokuto!" He whisper-yells, harshly, making Bokuto duck his head in return to listen. "There's a couple inside the store!"
"Oh, those two elderly women?" Bokuto asks, looking out the window, as if the women were still outside. "They left when I came in. It's just us in here!"
And then Akaashi feels dumb for not noticing his own customers leaving the store when Bokuto came in.
It wasn't even his fault, anyway.
Damn Bokuto.
And then he feels uneasy because there was nobody else in the shop with them. Akaashi might just pass out.
"Did you make that display by the door?" Bokuto asks, tilting his head slightly in question, and Akaashi nods, staring at it as if he was seeing it for the first time.
"Y-yeah. It took me a very long time, but...I think it looks okay."
"Very beautiful." Bokuto blinks at him, and Akaashi is fighting to keep his head above water as he cannot tell if Bokuto was still talking about the flowers or not.
Akaashi is the color of cherries and wants to jump out of the window to run all the way back home once Bokuto's smile slowly splits into his face, mischievous and evil just like Kuroo, telling Akaashi that he was in fact not talking about the flowers.
"Shut..." Akaashi looked stubbornly out the window, hoping that Bokuto would not notice him, an out of sight out of mind thing, but he was sure the scarlet color on his skin was taking up most of his attention anyway. "Shush."
"Only if you let me buy you two blue tulips." Bokuto digs into his back jeans pocket, like usual, handing Akaashi the yen to buy the flowers. "Or, roses. Or, whatever your favorite flower is this week."
Akaashi's face heats like a preheating stove, knowing Bokuto was buying the flowers for him, so expected, but still feeling like the first time.
"Are hibiscuses okay?" Akaashi asks, and Bokuto beams.
"Of course they're okay!"
And while his hands were shaking trying to get the flowers out of the bucket behind him, the yen still on the table, he hears Bokuto step away from the maplewood to go to wander around the shop, letting his curiosity drag him by the hand to all of Akaashi's displays, like he usually does.
Akaashi makes his way to the back to retrieve a vase, opting for white this time, thinking the light ceramic would look nice against the evergreen stems of the hibiscus itself.
In that time, his head goes down several dirt paths, wondering who Bokuto was going to race against tomorrow night, if the cat cafe would be open on Saturday for them to visit again, if Kuroo was taking a nap or actually working right now.
It felt like he was playing ten different songs in his head at once, jumbled and mashed and he couldn't quite put a finger on which melody he wanted to follow, but he didn't mind the chaos.
The songs abruptly screech to a halt, throwing Akaashi off, and are replaced by the sound of broken glass, so loud that he felt his heart shatter along with the fallen ceramic.
Akaashi rushes to the counter, his stomach twisting itself in tight knots as he hopes the sound was some other vase, and...
Not the one by the door.
Pieces of the ceramic were scattered around a pool of water, Bokuto frantically trying to pick the pieces up, and Akaashi watched the water flood over the hardwood, ironically glimmering prettily in the sunlight.
He couldn't help but feel his blood warm at the broken vase, green foliage making a mess around the flowers, all of his work and time seeping out with it.
He sighs, setting the vase and hibiscus he had in his hand down on the counter, meeting Bokuto by the door.
The threat of him cutting his hands overtakes the mild frustration in his chest, wanting to stop Bokuto before something bad happens.
"Hold on, Bo, you shouldn't-"
"I'm sorry, Akaashi." He was focused on picking up the glass, almost not daring to look at Akaashi, knowing how much time he spent on this. "I'm sorry. I'll pay for it. I'll clean it."
Akaashi opens his mouth to say something, feeling the annoyance searing his veins, before Bokuto hisses softly, breaking the string of apologies falling from his mouth.
He looks down at his hand holding the shattered glass, vermillion staining his fingers and palms as it floods between the ridges in his hands.
Akaashi feels his heart sting, Bokuto's hands shaking.
He was slightly pissed off, that was true, but seeing Bokuto bleeding onto the floor was enough to make him forget about the vase, just for now, and tug nimbly at the sleeve of Bokuto's hoodie.
"Hey, come on." His voice is surprisingly soft, and he takes a breath, letting the irritation drown into the water soaking into Bokuto's jeans. "I'll clean it for you."
"I'm sorry," Bokuto says, still staring at the pile of glass he'd let fall from his hands. "I didn't mean to."
"Let me clean your hands, Bokuto," Akaashi says, and Bokuto sighs, before standing up as best as he could while trying not to put his hands to the floor.
Akaashi leads Bokuto to the back of the shop where the sinks were, not looking back at the vase because he knew he'd get himself upset again. It was an accident, he knew, but seeing all that time he spent, just to have to rearrange it again, was almost heartbreaking.
Bokuto is quiet as Akaashi turns the faucet on, the sink running a steady stream of cold water for him to run his hands under. The silence screamed into his ears and shattered the windows with a high pitch.
Akaashi was so used to Bokuto always letting his emotions out so freely, and now that there was none to spill, he felt like he was missing something.
He didn't really care about the vase.
He didn't like the look on Bokuto's face, even more.
Akaashi doesn't know what to say, as Bokuto winces under the stream of water, flooding a faint crimson into the drain.
Akaashi holds his hands delicately, checking in the light for any glass. Both of them were just sliced, but it wasn't bad enough for a doctor's visit.
"Keep your hands under the water," Akaashi says. "I'm going to see if Konoha has a first aid kit."
Bokuto nods and stares at his hands, and Akaashi could practically see the grey clouds above his head, soaking into his clothes. He practically runs into Konoha's office to ask for a first aid kit, wanting to wipe that look off of his face as quickly as he possibly could.
"Did something break, Akaashi?" Konoha asks, his eyes never leaving the paperwork on his desk, his computer monitor bright against the side of his face as he scribbled black ink onto the papers.
"Yeah. I'm sorry. I accidentally bumped into a display." He bows politely, knowing that Konoha didn't mind informalities, but Akaashi felt like he needed to considering he lied to his face on top of that. "I'm taking care of it, but...do you have a first aid kit?"
"There's one beneath the sink. It's behind all the cleaning stuff."
Akaashi nods, letting a small thank you leave his mouth before standing straight and rushing out to meet Bokuto at the sink.
The water was running clear, but Akaashi knew Bokuto was still in pain and he needed to wrap his hands.
Akaashi kneels down beside him, opening the side of the cabinet that Bokuto was not in front of, digging through the half-empty bottles of bleach and floor cleaner, before finding the first aid kit near the pipes of the sink.
Akaashi sets it on the counter, grabbing paper towels from the dispenser right beside it.
"Let me see," Akaashi says, turning off the faucet, and Bokuto shows him his hands, letting him dry them with the towel.
There are still a few areas where blood is still running through the slices in Bokuto's skin, and Akaashi rummages through the kit for a bottle of peroxide.
"Are you okay, Bokuto?" Akaashi asks, finding it a little strange that he didn't ask as soon as he heard the glass break.
He was so preoccupied with the broken vase, he didn't even think of asking instead of doing.
Bokuto watches Akaashi wrap his hands, still trembling from the peroxide as the sting seems to carry up to his brain, making a face at the pain.
He nods once. "Yes. I'm sorry. I'll clean it."
Akaashi shakes his head, carefully lifting Bokuto's ring finger to bandage it. He wonders if he could feel the pulse in his fingertips as he holds his hand. "No way. You're injured."
"But it's my fault. I have to help, at least."
Akaashi moved onto the other hand and tried to ignore the pout on Bokuto's lips.
"It was an accident. It's alright."
Bokuto sighs through his nose, letting Akaashi bandage the rest of his fingers before looking at them. He pouts again, and Akaashi smiles.
"Fine, help me." He puts the first aid kit away beneath the sink and cleans off the water from the counter with more paper towels. "Can you grab a couple of regular towels from the top shelf?"
Bokuto turns and kind of struggles to grab a towel with his bandaged fingers, and while Akaashi goes to find the broom, he wonders if this will have an impact on Bokuto's racing tomorrow.
Bokuto is quiet, though, so he doesn't think this is a good time to ask.
He kneels down and sops the water up with one of the towels Bokuto hands to him, the other keeping his hands dry while soaking up the water, his knees wet and cold and uncomfortable.
Akaashi couldn't help but feel terrible. He felt his irritation was justified, but after seeing Bokuto's hands, he couldn't help the guilt that oozed into his chest not too long after.
There was no way he could be upset with this.
He just hoped Bokuto was still able to race tomorrow night.
After sweeping the glass into the pan, Akaashi looks up to see Bokuto staring at the flowers, unsure if he should get his bandages wet or let Akaashi deal with it instead. He could still see the grief in Bokuto's face, the gold darkened to a burnt amber, and while they were still beautiful, Akaashi missed the flame that was usually behind them.
"Bokuto~." He tries, and Bokuto looks up at him, still sullen, even though the mess was almost gone.
Akaashi thinks he would have been over it by now.
"I'm sorry," Bokuto says, and Akaashi frowns. "I know you spent a lot of time on that one. I didn't mean to."
"I know. The vase is broken, but the flowers aren't." Akaashi says, leaning forward on his hands now that the glass was gone. "I will remake it tomorrow. It'll be even prettier, so you have to make sure you come in and see it."
Bokuto looks away and Akaashi feels empty. He's only got one thing left.
Kuroo would do this sometimes, and despite Akaashi hating it, he couldn't say it didn't work to distract him.
He sighs through his nose at the thought of doing something so embarrassing, before reaching up to place a hand on Bokuto's head.
His hair is soft, immediately threading itself through the gaps between Akaashi's fingers. He softly ruffles his hand in Bokuto's hair, making the other's head shake gently with the movements.
The other glances at him, and Akaashi thinks he's reached his goal when their eyes meet again, this time, holding less upset than he did.
"It's okay, Bo. I'm not mad at you, okay?" Akaashi asks, letting his hand fall. "I don't think I ever could be." He lets his smile grow, feeling his glasses move with the scrunch of his nose. "Don't worry about this."
Bokuto nods, finally, finally, perking up a bit .
"I'll make it up to you!"
Akaashi grins again, and stands up with the pan in his hands, his knees hurting from cleaning on the hardwood floor. "You can start by not looking so sad."
Bokuto makes a face, before his pout stretches into a small smile, his dimples barely showing but still making Akaashi's stomach flip all the same.
"My break is almost over. I should...go back." Bokuto says, and Akaashi nods, checking the floor for any more glass before he finishes picking up the flowers. "I'm sorry."
"It's alright," Akaashi says. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Don't be sad."
"Okay..." Bokuto opens the door to the shop with his shoulder, looking at Akaashi once before his gaze falls, as if he wanted to say something else.
He leaves and Akaashi misses him when he is gone.
He lets a breath escape him once the door shuts, really hoping that Bokuto was okay to race tomorrow, before emptying the pan and picking up the rest of the flowers and looking forward to see Bokuto race.