A month passed, leading them into September, where the sun shone a little brighter and poured more gold into Akaashi during the afternoon.
Normally, Akaashi would have been home by now, sleeping away the rest of the day after work until he had to get up and do the same thing tomorrow.
Instead, he finds himself even more nervous than he usually was, keeping up with an excited Kuroo as they make their way to Bokuto and Atsumu's house. It's not that he wasn't looking forward to this party, but he hated them to begin with.
There was something about the loud noises and the amplified risk in such a mundane setting that scared the shit out of him, and rightfully so.
He's seen the murder mysteries.
But because it was Bokuto's birthday, he decided it was fine, just this once.
He hasn't been able to race yet, Sakusa wanting to keep him out of the ranks until he was completely healed. Akaashi was happy that he could at least be surrounded by his friends, though it probably couldn't compensate for the thrill of the race.
Kuroo was right in front of him, hair styled in a neater messy way, a silky crimson shirt hanging off of his shoulders from where it was undone to the third button. Akaashi didn't know if they would be overdressed, so he opted for more casual clothes to balance him out.
He thinks they both looked nice today.
Not that he tried a little harder to.
The summer breeze kisses his warm skin, the shake of the leaves at his feet whispering reassurances as they skip over the toes of his shoes, signaling the beginning of autumn over Japan.
His fingers are set on the little box in his pocket, wrapped as best as he could in shiny blue-grey paper from the convenience store.
Akaashi thinks quietly to himself as Kuroo meets Kenma on the sidewalk, his car parked across the driveway to their house. Kenma smiles at Kuroo, before letting the other kiss his forehead, his hair tied back into a ponytail this time.
Kenma was repeatedly breaking a lot of the stigmas Akaashi had placed on him, and after getting to know him, he decided that maybe he would not forget Kuroo for Valentine's Day.
"Hey." Kenma nods at him briefly, lacing his fingers through Kuroo's, the other hidden inside of his jacket pocket.
Akaashi nods politely and gives him a smile, and Kuroo jabs his free hand out to Akaashi.
"Let's hold hands, too!"
"No way," Akaashi says, trying not to smile at the pout Kuroo makes in return, before following them inside, not bothering to listen to their conversation.
Akaashi knew he'd be alone had he not found Bokuto. He needed to get to him, fast.
They are shrouded in colored LED lights, creating pretty circles over sweaty bodies as they dance to the music coming from one huge wall speaker. Cups filled with hazy memories were being spilled and refilled, laughter bouncing off of the walls and soaking into the stucco on the ceiling.
"Koutarou might be in the kitchen. Drinking." Kenma says to Akaashi, and as Kuroo gives him a look, grins one of the shit-eating ones that Akaashi didn't like to see, he pulls Kenma to the left, disappearing among the crowd to leave him by himself.
Damn Kuroo.
Akaashi swallows and looks towards the doorframe of the kitchen, seeing fewer bodies and more lights decorating the wooden flooring. He makes his way into the kitchen, hoping that Bokuto would be there and he wouldn't be alone all night.
He passes by Terushima Yuuji giving stick-n-pokes to a girl on the loveseat in the living room, blonde hair slicked back with several tattoos on his arms as well, all looking self-done. He speaks to her with a smile, one that poked the side of his mouth and left the implications up to everyone else.
Akaashi looks away quickly.
As soon as he steps into the kitchen, he sees Bokuto knocking back a shot, another boy he didn't recognize in front of him, talking with him. He laughs, one of the loud ones that make birds scatter from trees, before filling the glass again with the liquor from a green bottle.
He looked sloppy, already, his hair messed up from where he ran his hand through it.
But even in the dark like this, even when he was that disordered, he was still so radiant. He was still made up of halos, as if Akaashi would find him among dawn rather, taking up spaces with just a smile.
His heart falls at the sight of him laughing with his friend, knowing this would become one of those memories he would always think about, like a photo in the middle of a scrapbook.
Bokuto was so beautiful.
"Daisy!" Akaashi blinks and Bokuto's rushing up to him, golden eyes dark with a drunken ruse. "Hi, Daisy!"
He is smothered in a hug and he could swear he felt his heart melt this time, soaking into the ground and growing daisies by their feet. Akaashi wanted to kiss him, and while he's trying to figure out if it would be appropriate, he feels Bokuto do it anyway, his face in the boy's hands.
Akaashi tastes the sharp pang of liquor on his tongue before he has a chance to really think and Bokuto pulls back, beaming.
"You look amazing! Thank you for coming! I was hoping you would show up." He smiles, and Akaashi wonders if Bokuto genuinely thought he wouldn't come.
The notion makes him uneasy.
"I wouldn't miss it." Akaashi gives him a fragile smile that Bokuto reciprocates tenfold. "I, um...also got you something."
Akaashi takes the gift from his pocket and hands it to Bokuto, who takes it in both hands, letting a sound of admiration come out of his mouth. He tears the paper off and stuffs it into his pocket to throw out later, before lifting the top off of the box and looking at what was inside.
Akaashi watches him smile as he pulls the omamori out and it makes his butterflies dance.
"Wow, thank you, baby!" Bokuto says, his eyes never leaving it, holding it up like it was a rarity he'd just dug up. "No one's ever gotten me a lucky charm before. I will use it well!"
Akaashi smiles as Bokuto puts the charm in his other pocket, and he gestures back to the table with his thumb, incandescence in his grin.
"You wanna take shots with us? Hinata and me!"
And Akaashi hated alcohol for the sole reason that it gave him heartburn, but he also didn't want anyone to think he was boring. Bokuto knew him well enough, but all of the new faces around him kind of made him nervous, so he felt like he had something to prove.
This is exactly how the murder mysteries begin.
Akaashi sighs through his nose and nods, letting Bokuto lead him by the hand to the table he just came from.
He recognizes Hinata from the tattoo shop, still bubbly and smiling like the world truly was a happy place as he greets Akaashi. His orange hair is touseled and he's got pretty glitter on his cheeks, a sheer black top that was completely see-through hanging on his shoulders. He looked nice, and it was here when Akaashi remembers people are completely different than they are at work.
He wonders if Hinata thought Akaashi was the same in these boring clothes.
Akaashi gives him a polite nod and tells him that he didn't mind trying the alcohol he brought after he asked, before letting his eyes wander to the people around him as Hinata prepared the shot for him.
Nishinoya is with Tanaka at the ping pong table not too far behind Hinata, his fists raised and the stars have taken themselves behind his eyes as he watches the boy toss a white ball into cups across the table.
Akaashi looks around into the faces of Daichi, Matsukawa and Oikawa, Kiyoko and Atsumu and Sakusa, among the shadowed bodies whose faces blend with the dark, all lingering around couches and tables and plates of food. It was different to see them in such a relaxed setting, instead of on the roads where tensions were high and the only fun they would get would be from how much they pressed on the gas pedal.
It warms Akaashi to know that Bokuto truly was friends with everyone, and winning races didn't get to his head as much as he thought when they first met.
Aran was here, too, talking to someone that Akaashi did not recognize until they made eye contact. Grey hair with dark roots, hooded eyes that spoke of everything important yet nothing at all made his stomach plummet.
He should've known Osamu would be here, he should've.
The contact makes his heart shoot out of his throat and the room sways, before he looks back at the table like he just got struck by lightning.
Bokuto holds his glass up and Hinata and Akaashi follow suit, oblivious, before he shouts a loud cheers! and swallows it in one gulp.
Akaashi does the same, making a face once the liquor cleans out his throat and sears the edges of his ribcage, landing heavily in his stomach.
Hinata laughs, blissful from the sting, and Bokuto turns to him, looking him over.
"You okay? I could get you a chaser. You ate before coming, right?"
Akaashi could barely hear him over the music in the living room, but he nods, knowing damn well his stomach was empty in his haste of fixing his appearance too many times in the mirror before leaving.
He didn't want Bokuto to worry.
"I'm okay." He says, and Bokuto smiles softly in return. "I'll die if I take another one. I'll be back."
His mind is set on beer, as it was the easiest thing to drink and he could pretend to be busy with it to avoid conversation if he needed to. He opens the fridge and pulls out a can of beer, the kind they sell in convenience stores.
Akaashi opens it and takes a big sip as he closes the door, only to open it back up and grab another one just in case Bokuto wanted it, before going to meet him back by the table.
Osamu passes by him with Aran, clearly not too involved in their conversation as he looks at him again, Akaashi not daring to meet his gaze. He would be damned if he was going to spend the entire party trying to avoid him.
Hinata was gone, and more people had flocked to the ping pong table to witness Tanaka's feat.
The alcohol stirs and it augments the music, Akaashi feeling the bass of the eurobeat rattling his bones and reverberating inside of his hollow chest. He leans his butt against the counter and Bokuto meets him, happily taking the other beer from him.
"You look like you're feeling better," Akaashi says, glancing up at him and watching the way the colored lights skip over his face, smokey eyes looking at him as if he was the only person allowed to take up his time. "It's been a month, right? When are you clear to race again?"
"Very soon, actually." He says, and Akaashi sips the can while he finishes, missing that tiny spark in his eyes just as soon as he tries to grab it.
Usually, it lasted longer - it wasn't as fleeting - when talking about racing. Akaashi doesn't ask about it, while Bokuto continues.
"Sakusa says that I'm allowed to race in the next one on Friday. It's gonna be in Hishitori, so it's a ways away."
Akaashi nods. "I'll still come to see you."
"Then, I'll be sure to try extra hard not to lose, for you," Bokuto says, a little grin on his pretty lips.
Akaashi wanted to kiss him again.
"Win or lose. Doesn't matter to me." He brings up a hand to Bokuto's chin, curling his finger beneath it and tracing the soft cleft in it.
"I meant it when I said having you there makes me feel better. More confident." He says, his voice prominent as the music in the living room drops to wisps of kickdrums, before picking up on another song. "Thank you."
"I'm always gonna support you," Akaashi tells him, holding onto the back of Bokuto's neck as the boy watches his lips move, the way they mold around every word he says, despite the dark lighting in here. "I'm glad I can help you in some way."
"I think we should go on a date after Friday's race," Bokuto says, pressing his free hand to Akaashi's waist, heat beneath the skin of his fingers.
"Then we'll go on a date after Friday's race. Just not to the disco." Akaashi says, a mischievous grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Why not?" Bokuto tilts his head, his eyebrows coming together because he knew what Akaashi was implying.
"Because you have two left feet." He says, a smirk on his face from the look he pulled from Bokuto. "I've seen you dance at Tanoshi."
"I'm gonna make you eat those words, Akaashi Keiji." Bokuto shakes his head and his eyes gleam.
Akaashi tilts his, letting the can linger over his lips. "Yeah? Think you could show me how to dance? Or will I have to be the one leading you, like always?"
Bokuto steps forward and lets his free hand rest on the ledge of the counter behind Akaashi, making the other's already warm face blaze to an embarrassing temperature. Bokuto tilts his head and he's looking at Akaashi's mouth with a small grin that somehow intimidates him, despite seeing that same one before races.
The one that told him Bokuto was going to win.
"I meant what I said, baby. Prove it to you right now."
Akaashi cannot think as Bokuto grins and leads him back to the dance floor, slotting through sweaty bodies and thick laughter and cheering from the ping pong table back in the kitchen. Bokuto raises his beer can in greeting to people saying hello to him on the way there, Akaashi keeping his eyes anywhere else, flushing.
He can't really hear either, but they find a spot in the corner of the living room that was not taken up by the other guests, where the music was loudest and the walls thumped with every downbeat in the rhythm.
Bokuto is pressed against him, trying not to take up so much space and keep his footing. Akaashi has one hand gripping the beer can as if his life depended on it, the other on the back of Bokuto's neck, silver hair threading itself through his pointer and middle fingers at the nape.
Akaashi looks up at him, and Bokuto smiles, before he moves to the cadence of the song filling his ears. His rhythm was sometimes finicky, but Akaashi finds it easy tonight, considering they have danced before at Tanoshi a few times.
He tries not to think about the people around them, tries not to imagine anyone looking at him in a quick glance as Bokuto slides his free hand down to his waist, gently guiding his hips with his own as the music tips into a softer beat that doesn't have Akaashi's brain rattling so much. A heat seeps into his skin from the warmth radiating off of Bokuto's body, unspoken barriers being kicked over again as he holds him close, letting the music silence any protests from his head.
He feels his chest cave, in the same way it does before doing something drastic.
This was nothing new. Akaashi has danced with Bokuto before.
Maybe not like this, but...
How difficult could it be?
Bokuto has his lips near Akaashi's ear and his breath is warm as he speaks, his voice barely audible over the new song playing on the speakers, Akaashi's fingers involuntarily curling over Bokuto's neck.
"What was that about two left feet?"
"Shut..." Akaashi turns away from him and looks at the shoes of the people to his right, feeling the goosebumps make their way down to his legs and his body melts into Bokuto's fingers as they lightly push him to the left, then to the right. "Shut up."
Bokuto chuckles and sips his beer again, while Akaashi lets a breath escape him, the music practically pounding him into the ground. His thoughts don't really connect, but as Bokuto slides his hands that much lower and makes Akaashi's head spin, he places them back upon his hips with a firm look.
"Sorry," Bokuto says.
"No, you're not." A smile breaks his features and Bokuto grins back at him, pressing their noses together.
Akaashi's butterflies flutter as Bokuto confirms that he was, in fact, not sorry, and Akaashi kisses him quickly before he turns around, pressing against him again, his body on fire from the searing heat of Bokuto's skin.
They still sway, his back flush with Bokuto's chest, and he gently squeezes Akaashi's hips in question.
"Fine. Lead." Akaashi says, and Bokuto does so without any hesitation, just glad to be with Akaashi any chance he gets.
His point was lost and he forgets the reason they even came out here in the first place, as Akaashi finds himself swimming in the waves of the rhythm with Bokuto behind him. He leans his head on Bokuto's shoulder, closing his eyes and swallowing another mouthful of beer that hopefully washed away any setbacks he had from dancing with him.
It was different, considering it was Bokuto's party filled with Bokuto's friends.
Akaashi could only focus on the sound of the music vibrating against his skin, making his blood pump along with the melody. He could only focus on the taste of beer on his tongue and the burn of it around his heart.
He could only focus on Bokuto's hands and body, keeping himself from drowning in his touch while the sway of his hips makes him feel alive.
Akaashi, for once, felt like that same livewire that he thought Bokuto was, in all of his overwhelming calibers and voltages.
This, he could get used to.
He wanted more, but he doesn't know what exactly he wanted. He just knew it had to do with Bokuto, in everything he was and everything he had yet to be.
Akaashi didn't mind dancing with Bokuto at his party, nor did he mind his head drifting off on his third can of beer. He didn't mind the awkward eye contact with Osamu every so often, because Bokuto was with him, so it was okay.
Plus, it felt kind of good to know the center of attention had his attention on him for the rest of the night, so that was okay, too.