The apartment's fairly quiet, not unusual for a sunday morning, not really.
Akaashi's escaped Bokuto's bear hug for the couch in the front room. It's not that he doesn't appreciate Bokuto's cuddly nature, it was just too hot under the covers and he's tired. Too tired to sleep. And he doesn't really fancy being pinned in place for over an hour.
The ceiling fan spins over head, barely stirring a breeze through the apartment, but it feels nice, and it keeps him on the edge of wakefulness and sleep. There's a book on the floor, barely within reach; his reading from the night previous, before Bokuto dragged him to bed. He does want to finish it, the chapter ended on a cliff hanger and there's only about twenty pages left, but he doesn't want to finish it right now.
Right now, there's something in simply staring at the ceiling and breathing deeply that's incredibly satisfying.
Days like these aren't uncommon.
Akaashi usually has enough energy to keep up with Bokuto, without issue even. But sometimes he just runs out of steam. It pries his chest open, pulls his ribs back and empties him of everything he has. It all comes back eventually, but he'd prefer that it didn't happen at all.
Absently, he drags his arm up, straining gently for the ceiling. He knows there's nothing to reach for, just empty space and the ceiling fan, but he reaches anyways, just for the sake of doing so.
A callused hand joins his, fingers clasping together, and then Bokuto comes into view. He's still sleepy, there's a slight glaze to his eyes, and he hasn't bothered to right his bedhead.
"You okay, Keiji?" he asks quietly. Bokuto moves around the couch, keeping his hand clasped in Akaashi's, and kneels down on the floor, resting his free arm on the cushion. Akaashi watches absently as the cushion dips beneath Bokuto's weight before his eyes drift to their joined hands. He takes in a deep breath, letting most of it escape before he answers.
"I'm fine, just a little tired."
Bokuto's eyebrows furrow; Akaashi knows he's running the sentence through his head, trying to understand why Akaashi would get up and out of bed if he was tired. To his surprise, Bokuto only nods.
He lets go of Akaashi but moves a bit closer to the couch, he settles his hands in his lap.
"Can I stay out here with you?" There's no puppy dog eyes, which is only a little curious, but Akaashi nods all the same.
Bokuto rests his head on Akaashi's stomach, bright eyes practically glowing. He smiles up at Akaashi, gentle but blinding, and it brings a soft grin to Akaashi's lips.
They stay like that for a short while, simply gazing at each other. Bokuto falls asleep after twenty minutes though, still a little drowsy, and Akaashi simply takes to playing with his hair.
He stares at the ceiling fan again, too tired to attempt following the blades.
Slowly, the clouds part and the sun seeps in through the window, casting warm beams of light across the room. Bokuto seems to glow and it stirs up some kind of feeling in the waking pit that's taken the place of Akaashi's chest for the day.
It's nicer than usual.
Eventually, the light wakes Bokuto up, playing directly into his eyes so he ends up squinting. Akaashi can't help the weary smile that stretches his lips as Bokuto looks around, slightly confused. It takes him a moment to remember why he's in the living room, then he looks at Akaashi and smiles.
"Good morning, Keiji." He sits up straighter, picking up one of Akaashi's hands and pressing a kiss to his knuckles.
"Good morning, Koutarou."
"Can I?" Bokuto asks, leaning a little closer, not quite impressing into his boundary of Akaashi's personal space.
"It's fine," Akaashi mumbles.
Bokuto doesn't kiss him, at least not how Akaashi's expecting. He gets a kiss on his forehead and a charming grin, all teeth, and Bokuto presses another kiss to his cheek.
"Tea or coffee?" Bokuto moves back, doing his best not to crowd Akaashi.
"Coffee."
Bokuto pushes up onto his feet, letting go of Akaashi's hand as he goes.
Akaashi wonders if Bokuto's figured these days out. Usually he pesters for a little bit, asks a few too many questions before all too happily acquiescing to the prospect of one on one time with his favorite person. He talks of course, maybe a little less boisterous than usual, but the talking is normal and the apartment feels empty without it. And really, Akaashi doesn't mind the pestering all that much, it's very much an endearing aspect to Bokuto's multifaceted personality.
But Akaashi can't help wondering.
They sip their coffee in quiet, the only noise being the quiet whirring from the ceiling fan. Akaashi's coffee is just a little on the sweet side but he doesn't mind, Bokuto was close, that's all that counts. Currently, Bokuto hasn't tried to join him on the couch, Akaashi doesn't know if he's ready for that quite yet.
Instead, he props himself up on the arm of the couch, holding his coffee in his left hand while his right rests on Bokuto's shoulder.
The day passes slowly, warmly. Akaashi still feels empty by the time the afternoon rolls around.
"I'm going to take a shower," Bokuto says, tipping his head back so he can see at least part of Akaashi's face.
"Okay."
He hesitates a moment. Akaashi's hand is still on his shoulder and turns to kiss it.
"You are okay, right Keiji?" he asks after a moment of pause.
"I'm fine. It'll pass soon, I promise."
Bokuto nods and retreats down the hallway.
Akaashi rearranges himself on the couch. He closes his eyes and thinks.
The two have only been living together for the past year and a half, they've had more than enough time to adjust to cohabitation. But this still happens. Akaashi doesn't know why, and it's frustrating. He wakes up with nothing but a hole in his chest, an inability to do much of anything and it affects Bokuto in ways he doesn't want it to. Bokuto's a creature of affection, one of praise who thrives on positive words and close proximity.
All of which Akaashi struggles with on days like these.
There had been a few times in the first months when they'd moved in together where things went wrong. No fights occurred, a fact they're both incredibly grateful for, but there were many sessions of crying and repeated reassurance. Those days are behind them now. Bokuto comes to Akaashi when he's worried, and Akaashi doesn't try to keep so much bottled up as he did before.
Which is why Akaashi's a little confused.
He hasn't been able to talk to Bokuto about these little episodes because he's not even entirely sure how he can explain them. But it's clear they're causing Bokuto some degree of anxiety, and he's not told Akaashi.
With a quiet sigh, Akaashi drags his leadened arms up to cover his face, content to wait.
When Bokuto comes back out, a towel around his neck and his hair still damp, Akaashi tucks up his legs. Bokuto doesn't hesitate to accept the invitation, he sits and watches as Akaashi debates on whether or not to sit up.
"Need help?" Bokuto asks.
Akaashi nods and in a fraction of a second, warm and callused hands are helping him up. He leans into Bokuto's side, siphoning off his warmth and silently praying that it will fill the hole in his chest.
"What is it?" Akaashi asks for a moment.
"What?"
"You've been really quiet since you woke up."
Though he can't see it, Akaashi knows Bokuto's biting his lip.
"Well, you like quiet on days like these, don't you?"
"I do, but I don't mind you, you know that."
"I know, I know, but this makes it easier on you, doesn't it? I mean, I don't really know what 'it' is really, but I can be quiet for a few hours, it's not a big deal."
But it is. For Bokuto. And sure, the quiet helps, but it's as empty as Akaashi's chest without Bokuto's excited chatter to put him at ease.
"Koutarou," Akaashi tries to move, finding it difficult, he settles for twisting around so he can place his hands on Bokuto's cheeks. "It's okay, really. I don't really know what 'it' is either, to be honest. But it always passes. It's okay."
Bokuto leans forward until their foreheads are touching.
"Promise?" he asks.
"Promise."
Bokuto practically glows, leaning even closer to pepper Akaashi's face with kisses.
Now thoroughly exhausted, the hole in his chest even wider than it was earlier, Akaashi rearranges himself so he can use Bokuto's lap as a pillow. He closes his eyes, focuses on the hand in his hair and the bubbly voice above him.
It's almost 2a.m. and I've had a shitty week. So, here's a minor vent fic, I've got worse in store for Oikawa.