#jac attack

You returned to his lips, nicking the plush of his bottom lip with your teeth before allowing Kenma to consume you. He had been so touch-starved his whole life; once he got a taste of you, he couldn't allow himself to savor the moment. All he could do was devour, and that's all you wanted.

 Clothes littered his floor, and you were happily perched above Kenma on top of his bed. He took a certain pleasure in pushing you to the brink of pain, counting the number of times you tense above him, coating him in your release. His calloused fingers push you to the edge, again and again, playing your body as easily as any game in his collection. Your body finally gives out, falling against his chest as he thrusts into you from below, the lewd sounds of your messy cunt welcoming his length back into your heat, working you up once again.

 His pace quickens, deft hands finally grasped tightly to your hips as he drags his cock against your walls in deliberately rough passes. You clench against him, feeling the twitch as he finally chases his release.

 Then he whispers three words into your ear, breathless and achingly sincere.

 You've never left his bed so quickly, your legs struggling to stay under you. You couldn't stay, not after that. Things were defined between the two of you, rules set in place, and yet he spoke so sweetly into your ear, the words you both had promised not to say. You feel betrayed, an ache in your chest. Things couldn't stay the same, and yet you wished so much that they could.

 The next six months are spent in different beds, your touch for the games he prefers lost in favor of the touch of strangers, and yet you feel so empty. Unsatisfied. Each encounter was a race to pleasure, and he had spoiled you so. You had grown complacent under his touch, and now each new body underneath you couldn’t compare. It would bring you to tears if you weren’t so set against crying in a drunk stranger’s bed.

 Two days after your latest failure, and here you were again, standing at his door with bags full of snacks as an offering. You were determined to not show your weakness now, not after ignoring his calls for months, for bailing on every outing Kuroo tried to guilt you into attending. So you knocked, loud and quick, before straightening yourself out.

 He opened the door with a sleepy glare, his hair untamed, the blonde barely staining the ends. It took him a moment to take you in, eyes widening in a way you would only notice if you had known him the way you do. He took the bags from you, his hands moving in an unnervingly steady way, dragging the pads of his fingers against your wrist.

 He turned from you, allowing you a moment to breathe and close the door behind you. The bags were abandoned as he stood, unmoving. Words left you, it didn’t feel right to be so unsure in a place you had once found comfort in, but you still stepped closer. Any uneasiness was washed away by how needy, how desperate you had become for his touch.

 Your touch on his shoulder was all the encouragement he needed, turning to capture you in his arms. His lips were on yours, ferocious and wanting, not giving you a moment to catch your breath. He pulled the breath from your lungs, clawing at your clothes. His hands only left your body to rip the shirt over your head, peeling his off in the next breath. Lips clashed against your neck, suckling dark spots onto the sensitive skin. Being away from him for so long must have riled him up, he never left marks before. His hands were insistent at your waist, his frustration making it hard for him to undo the button.

 Your panties were pulled down with your pants, leaving you bare from the waist down. He didn't fuss with your bra or his pants in favor of pushing you towards the bed. Your knees hit the frame and buckled, and Kenma followed your descent. His hands traced your sides, running up your stomach to circle your nipples through the sheer fabric of your bra. He stared, entranced as they pebbled under his touch. His mouth wrapped around one as a hand trailed down to your hips, softly rubbing circles in the way he knew would make you buck against his touch. He relinquished quickly, dipping a finger into the slick collecting on your slit.

 Your hands threaded through his hair, giving it a rough tug. He responded in kind, sinking his teeth into your breast, marking you once again. You keened against the new pleasure, feeling the vibration of his moans run through your chest as he pressed a single finger into you. He was demanding, but you could tell this time was different. He was going to take his time, making you come undone underneath him.

 His finger pistoned in and out of you, barely brushing against the spots he knew would make you keen, cry out for him like a lover would. The lace of your bra was stuck to you, dampened by the laving of his tongue and rubbing roughly against your sensitive nipples. You were quick to maneuver your arms behind you, unhooking the offending fabric and throwing it to the void that existed outside of Kenma and his bed.

 He must have been pleased with your cooperation, plunging a second finger in to join the first. He teased you so sweetly, tracing around the spots he knew by heart, watching you desperately buck into his hand. The sight finally got the best of him, and he ducked his head, harshly sucking your clit between his lips. His name fell from your lips, like a prayer, a hymn, you would worship him forever if he only stayed like this.

 But he didn’t, he snaked his way back up to you, making you taste yourself on his lips. His pants were lost to the room, and his dick hung between you, swollen and leaking. You wanted nothing more than to impale yourself on it, but he had you in his grasp.

 Those three little words, spoken like blackmail in your ear. He wasn’t dumb, he knew why you returned, the only question was if you’d give in. Would you fall, trusting him to catch you, like he always had?

 And you weren’t dumb either. You could find someone else to dick you down, you could buy a toy if all of this was just another way to chase a release, but you were here, and you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore.

 So you parroted those three words back, crying out as he finally sunk his cock into your heat. It fit so perfectly, you chided yourself for trying to find even an imitation of what Kenma brought out of you. Everything was new, the way he folded your legs to your chest, the way he didn’t bring you to your end time and time again. This was more, a constant building, a crescendo that he wanted you to reach. Together. His fingers played you just right, a sickening sort of art to the way his touches brought you further into the flames.

 You could feel it throughout your body, the crashing wave that threatened to pull you under with it. Before it collapsed, Kenma flipped you, placing you on top of him. Relinquishing himself to your hold, but not giving up the way he rutted into you, dragging his dick against the sweetest spots. He braced your thighs as he bounced you, helping you grind against the downy hair at the base of his cock with every plunge.

 You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink. All you could do was surrender to Kenma. Tears poured down your face, decimating the carefully placed mask of indifference you tried to wear. You pleaded, threatened even, but Kenma wouldn’t push you over the edge. You were so close, you could almost taste the copper in your mouth with how hard you tried to hold in the words.

 But you gave in, like you always did for him, sputtering out those three words in blissful sighs. And the wave crashed, and you fell with it, clenching and crying and euphoric. And like always, Kenma was there to catch you, stroking you through your release and finding his own. He marked you, inside and out, the delicate bloom of his teeth against your neck, sending aftershocks of pleasure trembling through you.

 It was quiet for a moment, as you came down. Vision and mind cleared, you couldn’t help but glance at Kenma, a sly smile breaking over his face. Before you could say a word, tell him this didn’t change a thing, he simply pulled you back to his chest, drawing calming circles on your lower back.

You could feel the emotion bubbling in your throat as he spoke. What could you be so scared of when Kenma had put his feelings on the table twice, pushing them down every time you weren't accepting. Here he was, letting you know exactly how he felt about you, and taking whatever you could give him, and you couldn't even give him your honesty.

 You must have been lost in your thoughts, because before you could process it, Kenma was standing in front of you, dressed from the waist down. He didn’t bother wiping the tears dripping from his chin, instead focusing on the ones falling from your lashes.

 “Please don’t cry. Making you cry is the last thing I want to do.” His hands, shaking, wrapped around you. It was softer than before, giving you a means to escape if you wanted. You had considered it for a moment, but you felt your will sap away from you. You collapsed into his hold, not daring to wrap your arms around him. His hands cupped you to his chest and ran soothing circles on the nape of your neck.

 “We can’t go back, not anymore.” You fought through sobs to get those words out.

 “I’m sorry, please, don’t leave again.” His words were whispers against your neck.

 “I don’t think I can.” You choke on these words, the truth bitter on your tongue. Kenma pulled back to stare at you, the tears pausing their cascade. You resisted the urge to wipe them from his face, your fear still holding you back. “I love you.” The words fell from your lips like a death sentence, somber and painful.

 Kenma started crying again, the smile on his face sweeter than before. His hands slowly moved to your face, slow enough to stop him if you wanted. He approached even slower, barely grazing your lips in a ghost of a kiss, unlike any you’ve shared before. No lust barely hidden under the surface, no rush. You didn’t reciprocate, but you let him, until he’s laid the lightest of kisses all across your face.

 He pulled you to follow him, and you trailed behind him without complaint. He sat you on the edge of his bathtub, fussing with the faucet until the water started to fog over the mirror. His hands didn’t stray from you for long, moving with slow grace to divest you of your wrinkled clothes. You had been bare in front of him many times before, but not like this. You felt vulnerable, like he could see right through you.

 Kenma got in first, sitting against the back of the tub. His arm was held out to help you step in, and you sunk into the water willingly, hoping it'd hide some deep part of you that you weren't ready to see. Or maybe at least protect it from Kenma's gaze, who always seemed to see more than you.

 His hands ran warm circles across your back, urging you to relax. His touch feather-light as he tilted your head back, water cascading gently through your hair. He washed you with all the devotion of a worshipper at their altar, gentle and pious. You couldn't stop the tears at his touch, unused to touch without the flames of lust nipping at your heels. Even pressed against you like he is, he isn't even slightly rubbing against you. Wholly focused on helping you relax, to make you feel better without any reward for his action.

 He doesn’t even ask you to wash his hair or scrub his back after he’s finished with you, he simply lets you enjoy the way the water soothes your aching muscles as he quickly washes himself. Kenma doesn’t let you get out first, ignoring the puddles he made as he pulls towels from their places. He braces you with an arm as you step out, quickly covering your cooling skin with the fluffiest towel he owned.

 "Stay here." He whispers against your forehead, laying a chaste kiss to the center. You watch as he leaves, a towel draped around his waist. You took the time to towel off your hair, enjoying the sweet apple scent of Kenma's shampoo. Kenma comes back, dressed in baggy shorts and holding a bundle out towards you.

 It was a robe, simple and fluffy. You allowed Kenma to slip it over your shoulders, enjoying the soft fabric against your skin. "I got it… in case you came back." He turned his face from you, bashful… hopeful…

 He lead you by the hand back to his bed. New sheets, smelling of lavender and sunshine, were placed upon the bed. Kenma laid in the sheets, arms sprawled to his side as he waited for you to make a move. You would come to him willingly or not at all. He was ready either way. Still, you bend for Kenma in ways you never dreamed of for anyone else. You cautiously place yourself in his arms, letting him pull you closer. Kenma seemed content to drift off like this, but it was still too unnerving for you.

 You pulled yourself up to meet his eyes. For the first time that morning, you kissed him. “Kenma, please. I need you.” His eagerness shone in his eyes as he slipped his arms from you, moving to tower over you. A breath escaped you, relief that whatever this was would be moving in a direction you were familiar with.

 But Kenma kisses you, soft and sweet. None of the demanding insistence of last night to be found, just unfiltered, unbridled adoration dripped from his lips. Every mark he had laid on your skin was drowned in his affections. It was too much and not enough. You wanted, needed more of his passion and less of his love, for your heart's sake, but your desperate tugging at his faded locks did little to change his mind. The tug at your waist and the feeling of the air on your chest pulled a shiver from you that only worsened as you watched Kenma pull back. He looked at you then, really looked like he had never allowed himself to before. He drank you in with his eyes and his hands, reverent touches littering your body. His lips followed soon after, a saccharine trail flowing down your body. Every touch, every kiss, every lick driving you mad. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, each touch not to drive you to the brink of pleasure but to convey every emotion he couldn't put into words.

 He reached the apex of your thighs, a contented sigh laid at your skin. Kenma licked at your seam, slow and savory. You tangled your fingers into his roots, urging, pleading him to do more, go harder, but he just lets you take out your frustrations on him. He parts your lips with careful fingers, dragging a single one through your slick before his tongue followed. He drags your pleasure out slowly, so slowly. Each caress just on the cusp of pleasurable, not the toe-curling roughness you were accustomed to. His fingers don't breach your heat until they easily slide in, no sting from the stretch. Kenma prepares you like you were porcelain, precious, and fragile, even though you want him to break you.

 He finally relented, removing himself from you entirely to slip up your body. He kissed you like you were the only air he could breathe, all-encompassing to the point where your head spun. Ever so gently, he pushed his length into you, laving your neck with messy kisses. All you could do was writhe against him, feeling every inch as he sunk into you. Kenma paused the base of his length finally met the swell of your sex and breathed in your gasps as he let you adjust. Kenma's pace was slow, dragging against every inch of you before plunging back in. He kissed the crystalline drops as they fell from your lashes, muttering his love against your skin with each thrust.

 Your hands tangled in his hair and dug into his back, grounding yourself in any way you could. Kenma let out a breath, content that you were finally holding on to him in any way, and his hands snaked underneath your writhing form to hold onto your shoulder and hip. With his hold on you, he was able to plunge even deeper, holding you chest-to-chest.

 “I love you, I love you so much, please don’t leave me again.” He panted into your skin between kisses, repeating his mantra as the coil in your stomach wound tighter and tighter, agonizingly slow. Kenma didn’t speed up, didn’t move his hand to the bundle of nerves sure to push you over the edge. He simply let you feel him, feel the love he was pouring into you with each movement.

 "I'll tell you over and over again if it keeps you here. I'll show you as many times as it takes for you to believe." His devout kisses fell to the hollow of your throat, groaning as he tried to hold himself back. Something about that moment, as you watched Kenma pull his lip between his teeth as he gazed into your eyes, holding back everything for you, broke you. You pulled his head to yours, relinquishing the feelings you held back to spill from your mouth into his. You keened into his kiss as the crest of your pleasure broke from within you, drenching Kenma's length. Kenma kept pace, working you through your peak softly, to enjoy it without any bite. Even then, he didn't chase his pleasure.

 Your fear dissipated once you looked at him, really looked. All he wanted was to give his all to you, but only if you wanted it. His eyes spoke volumes, not once straying from your face. Just like they had all this time, as you went searching for love in stranger’s bed, he only looked at you. There was nothing left for you to fear.

 You tangled your fingers in Kenma’s hair, gentle this time. You ran your fingers along his scalp, softly pulling him in.

 "I love you, Kenma." No bargains this time, no desperate pleading. With those words lingering in his ear, he finally gave in. You could feel everything as he twitched within you, falling apart under your caress. A lightness you hadn't expected appeared in your chest and only intensified as Kenma rushed to clean you up.

 You found yourself tucked into Kenma’s hold again, letting the warmth consume you this time. He was still whispering his thanks into your hair as his thumbs rubbed calming circles to any skin he could reach. Sleep fell heavily on the two of you, emotional exhaustion taking its toll. This time, you wouldn’t mind waking up tangled with him.

  “Kenma, get up, you’re late… You can’t keep moping in here forever.” Kuroo let himself in with a sigh, stopping as his eyes reached the bed. Kenma’s eyes cracked open just enough to recognize Kuroo, and he quickly shifted his arms to hide you from Kuroo’s sight. Kenma glared over your shoulder, trying to keep you deep in your sleep.

Your worries weren't as unfounded as Noya would like to believe. The slight inhale of breath as the two of you walked out into the brisk air didn't escape your sight, but you blamed the cold as the two of you walked home. You went to busy yourself with dinner, but once Noya walked out of your bedroom in a tee and shorts, you abandoned the half-chopped veggies on the counter.

 “Yu! Look at your poor knees! And your arms are almost rubbed raw!” The angry red skin seemed to glow against his skin, and all he could do was rub his neck and look ashamed. You sent him a look that reminded him way too much of Suga as you handed him his phone.

 “What’s this for?” You rolled your eyes at how clueless he was.

 "You're calling in for at least tomorrow. You need to let these heal." He pouted and opened his mouth to refute, but you hushed him, pushing the phone closer to his chest. You knew he wouldn't fight you too hard on this, more concerned with upsetting you than missing a singular practice. Instead of calling, he sent his manager a quick text. It didn't take long for his manager to respond, and to Noya's surprise, they agreed with you. Looks like his fate was sealed. As soon as you read the message over his shoulder, you threw the phone to the couch and pulled him after you.

 "Up." You patted the bathroom counter, letting Noya jump up to seat himself on the smooth surface. It took some rummaging to find everything, and you regretted not having a medkit in your house. Knowing Noya, you should probably invest in one. True to his childish nature, Noya waited for you while kicking his legs, barely missing your face before giving you a sheepish smile and stilling.

 The disinfectant was cold and stinging against his ragged knees, but he took a sharp breath and let you continue. You felt a little bad, not wanting to be the cause of even such a little pain, but continued.

 Unbeknownst to you, as you focused on the torn skin of his knees, Noya was distracting himself from the pain by staring at you. His chest filled with a pleasant fluttering at the way you were doting on him, bandaging the now weeping scrapes on his knees before moving to his arms. His arms hurt a little less, and he made a note to get better knee pads, so they didn't move around quite as much.

 He held back until you deemed yourself finished, wasting no time wrapping his arms around your neck. He took advantage of the height of the counter he was perched on to pull you to his chest, placing soft kisses along your forehead. "Thanks for patching me up."

 You giggled and swat at his chest. "Even if you're the guardian, you're not invincible." His chest puffed out at the title, and you let him bask in his glory before pulling him off the counter. He let out an undignified squeak at the movement, but quickly fell into your arms.

 "C'mon, now that I'm done being your medic come help me with dinner." He followed you out into the kitchen, a dopey grin on his face. "Can you finish chopping up the veggies while I get this stuff on the stove." He watched you scurry around the kitchen, grateful that he still had someone who cared about watching over him. He had been worried when he graduated from Karasuno that he'd be on his own, but you swooped in just in time to support him.

 Maybe he should have stopped daydreaming about you instead of absentmindedly dicing up the veggies in front of him.

 "Hey, babe?"

 “Yeah, Yu?”

 “Do we have any more bandages?” You turned away from your bundle of food to see Noya with a knife in one hand and a steadily bleeding finger on the other. He could only smile as you scrambled to cover the digit in a clean towel and usher him back to the bathroom.

That didn't stop the two of you from taking all the pleasures that Las Vegas could give you. After a few months of keeping your distance, you missed him, and he was quick to play on your longing to return to normalcy and the complementary offerings that came with a room at one of the big hotels. It started out with Kuroo suggesting that you join him in playing the slots, a bonus from a job well done sitting heavily in your pockets. From there, it escalated to blackjack and drinks, so many drinks. Kuroo gave up on gambling a few drinks in, dragging you to the clubs to dance.

 You had never been so close, even the nights you spent tangled in his sheets. It was different when a sea of bodies pushed the two of you ever closer, and the alcohol coursing through your system only made his hands feel hotter as they trailed over any skin that peeked through. Even here, as packed as it was, drinks came fast and hard. The night turned into a blur, memories of giggles and hands straying into clothes.

 The morning light brought with it an inescapable headache. The smell of liquor sat thickly on your skin, only worsening the pounding in your head. A shower would be first on your list, followed closely by a breakfast of your favorite hangover cures. That was the plan until the heavy arm over your stomach refused to let you budge. You followed the skin up to Kuroo's face, almost angelic in the diffused light. You shouldn't be surprised; it was always a possibility when you went along with his whims.

 What was a surprise was the light reflecting off of the band on Kuroo's finger. Had he gotten married while you were keeping your distance? No, you would have noticed sooner. You went to remove his hand from you, only to spot the matching band on your finger. The desert heat could not warm the chill that ran through your veins as you jumped out of bed, startling Kuroo into consciousness.

 “What’s wrong?” His groggy voice and messy hair didn’t match your rising anxiety, but his eyes sharpened when you started to nervously giggle.

 “Kuroo, please tell me we went out and bought matching rings as some sort of drunken prank?” Kuroo sat up, running his hands through his bedhead before examining the ring on his finger like it would come alive and speak if he just looked hard enough.

 “Walk me through last night. Maybe we’ll remember something.” You paced around the room, grabbing Kuroo’s shirt to cover yourself as he stayed seated on the bed.

 “You drug me out to play slots, which didn’t last long. We played a few rounds of blackjack, got some drinks.” He nodded along, both of you relatively sober by that part of the night. “Then you decided we should go out clubbing.”

 “And we both got a bit out of hand with the drinks, if my head is any indication.” He chuckled, causing you to throw him a glare. He put his hands up in resignation while you urged your memory to return. “You were having so much fun dancing with me, all drunk and giggly.” You felt the heat creep to your cheeks at the dreamy tone in Kuroo’s voice, but you did remember the embarrassing way you clung to Kuroo as you left the club.

 “We got a cab back here. How did we end up with rings then?” Kuroo cleared his throat, averting his eyes as you looked to him. “What?”

 “I remember.” He mumbled.

 “What?”

 "I remember. We passed one of those cheesy drive-thru chapels, and I made a joke about how we should go through." You shot him an evil stare, and he scratched at his neck. "Hey, it was a joke! You were the one who decided we should go through! Turns out, you need to schedule an appointment for the drive-thru, but you were adamant… you know I've got a weak spot for you. It's even worse when I'm drunk, I guess. So we went in, picked the bands, paid a pretty cheap amount for the ceremony, and a bouquet that I'm pretty sure you tossed out of the limo on the Strip." You could feel your headache growing as he spoke and swore to yourself that you would never drink with him again.

 Kuroo finally stood to rummage through some papers on the dresser, walking unabashedly naked to you. In his hand was a paper-framed picture of Kuroo holding you bridal-style while you waved around a gaudy bouquet in the air. The photographic evidence wasn't what stole your breath away; it was the look shared between you and Kuroo.

 You looked every part of the newlywed couple, eyes locked on each other adoringly in love. You fought the butterflies in your stomach as he showed you a copy of your marriage certificate. In a moment, it was all too real.

 "Okay, we need to call the chapel and the registrar's office. Hopefully, they haven't processed the paperwork yet. If they have, we can request an annulment." Your head was working faster than your lips, and when you reached for your phone, your hands were shaking.

 "Maybe we just leave it?" You whipped around to Kuroo, who had seated himself back on the bed, observing you.

 “Kuroo.”

 “I think you can call me Tetsurou, you know since you’re technically also Kuroo now?” You just barely reigned in the urge to chuck your phone at his head as he smirked at you.

 “What is your problem? You’re acting like you wanted this!” You hadn’t meant to raise your voice at him.

 “Maybe I did!” For the first time that morning, you stopped moving. “Not like this, but what’s so wrong with me being happy about marrying you?” A lesser man would look away, but not him. His eyes were glued to yours. “I don’t know what you’re so scared of, but we’ve been dancing around this for years. You haven’t been in a relationship for as long as I’ve known you. Hell, you don’t even hook up much, save for me. As far as I’ve seen, I’m the constant in your life. And I love you. I think you love me too.” He took a deep breath, breaking from the sharp edge he had. Tears had gathered in your eyes, and he approached you like a stray cat, slowly and unthreatening until you were wrapped in his arms. A broken sob escaped from your chest, and he hushed you as he moved to lay on the bed with you.

 "We've got two options. We cancel our flights for later today. Stay here for what, another week, until we can get everything annulled. Or, we can get on our flight, not miss any work, and try it out. It would take a few months for the paperwork to transfer over anyways. If things don't go well, we can pretend it never happened. We can quietly get it annulled at home and go our separate ways. If not, we leave it be. We can find a nice place and move in together. Have an actual ceremony with our friends and family." The hands dragging through your hair helped calm you down and see the logic in his words.

 “I really do believe that you wouldn’t have gone through with it if some part of you didn’t think this is what you wanted.” He tilted you face up to meet his in a chaste kiss, something more tender than the two of you had ever shared. “And I meant it when I said I wanted it.” You nodded, suddenly exhausted from all the emotions of the morning.

 “O-okay.” You relented, taking some small joy in the way Kuroo’s face lit up as you did.

 "Alright, Mrs. Kuroo, let's get you cleaned up, and I'll order us some breakfast. I'll make it special for our honeymoon." You swatted his arm, the ghost of a smile on your face.

 "Don't push your luck." You threatened but got up anyway. You paused in the doorway and looked back at Kuroo, now tangled in the blankets. He stared at the ring on his hand with a grin on his face, and you could see the shine of tears pooling in his eyes.

 Maybe you’d like being Mrs. Kuroo after all.

The clues were vague and messily written, dragging you around to spots you had spent the most time with Bokuto. The first was the park you had met him at for your first not-date. He invited you to watch him and Akaashi practice. You had sat on the sidelines for hours, watching Bokuto spike every set Akaashi sent his way. It was endearing the way he wore his emotions on his sleeve, and you desperately tried to hide your giggles in your sleeve at the whiplash inducing speed he went from cheering to sulking every time Akaashi told him his hit went out of bounds.  

You had an idea when you watched him and Akaashi wiping away the sweat from their faces with the hem of their shirts. It had been an exceptionally hot day, and they had been training pretty hard. Drinks would probably be nice! You never expected the rain cloud hanging over Bokuto’s head upon your return. He cheered up quickly when you strode up to him, drink in hand, letting him know you didn’t ditch him.

 The next clue was hanging from the poles of the volleyball net set up in the courtyard of the park, leading you away from your first happy memory with Bokuto. The clue led you through the streets the two of you wandered near daily in high school to the cafe that Bokuto took you on your first date. You still remembered how he had watched a video the night before, claiming he was now an expert at braiding hair. It took you two long hours to untangle the knots he had tied in your hair, but it was still a fond memory. The feeling of his fingers trailing through your hair and the reflection in the cafe windows of his concentrating expression would be forever engraved in your memory.

 Yukie was waiting for you at the end of the last clue. She stood outside the restaurant Bokuto took you to celebrate his acceptance into a professional volleyball team. The one where he had cheered loud enough to get the two of you kicked out, and with enough force that the wine you had planned to share ended up staining the length of your new, expensive dress. The two of you ate skewers from a food court on the way home that night. It was more your style anyways. Each clue had been harder to decipher, the frustration Bokuto had been feeling at trying to come up with clues easily read by his scribbling on each note.

Yukie greeted you like an old friend. Although she had never understood what you had seen in Bokuto, she had always been glad for your company during away games. She handed you the last note, not enough to even be a clue. Just an address and the words ‘Just get here quick, okay?’

 The day had slipped away from you into a beautiful twilight as you returned to your high school gym, where you used to sit in the bleachers and watch Bokuto practice before he walked you home each night. As eager as you were to enter, you heard voices inside. Your curiosity had stopped you outside the door, listening to the words as they filtered through the open windows.

“She’s late.” You were unused to the nervous shake in Bokuto’s voice.

“Well your ‘clues’ weren’t very easy to follow, but she’s smart. Give her a little more time.” Akaashi’s stoic voice was a relief to you, especially when you heard Kuroo chuckling at your poor boyfriend’s nerves.

“What if she doesn’t want to come? What if she didn’t get the first one? I always hear her friends say she should be with someone more mature. They don’t like me. Neither does her mom. I’m pretty sure her mom blocked my number.” You could hear Akaashi scoff.

“Well you have ruined a lot of her girl’s night outs. And you did manage to break one of her parent’s windows. Three separate times.”

“I said sorry!”

“Yeah! He’s just excitable!” Kuroo sounded closer now, probably consoling a depressed Bokuto.

“Regardless, you love her don’t you?” Akaashi sounded bored, but your trained ear could hear the undercurrent of comfort he was trying to convey.

“Of course! More than anything!” He almost sounded mad now, the range of his quickly shifting emotions was never something you got used to.

“And she loves you. You know that. Despite everything, she loves you.” It was quiet in the gym, far quieter than any other time Bo had occupied it. Then his loud cheer split the air, quickly joined by Kuroo’s. Akaashi’s sigh sounded fatigued, but you knew if you peaked through the door you’d find the soft smile he fought to keep off his face.

 You allowed yourself a moment to settle the feelings that bubbled in your chest at what you had heard. Every moment, every memory Bo had mentioned was one you looked upon fondly. You didn’t care to be with someone ‘safe,’ someone complacent. Bokuto made every day an adventure, and you loved him all the more from it.

That’s why you should have expected his head to pop out of the door, startling you out of your thoughts. His face lit up with excitement and apprehension all at once, and he ducked back into the gym, yelling, “She’s here!”

You had been found out, so you resigned yourself to walking through the door. The nerves ran through your veins, you had stepped through this doorway countless times. Why should now be any different?

 And then, it was.

 There he stood, flanked by his two closest friends. Akaashi even managed to look happy, and Kuroo’s smile was beaming. In the center of the gym, he waited for you. He didn’t rush to you as was his preference, rather, he let you walk to him. Something about that felt important. You reached for his outstretched hand, letting him pull you the last few steps. He could only be so patient.

“I know I mess up a lot. And I know I’m not mature, or sophisticated, and I don’t fit in with your friends… but I’ve only got eyes for you. I don’t think I’ll ever really grow up, and I get it if you get tired of me acting like… me.” You watched, ensnared in his desperate display as he fell to his knees. Akaashi nudged him with a knee, trying to whisper down to him.

“Dumbass, it’s one knee, not both.”

“Let him do his thing.” Kuroo hushed him, watching you both with a shine in his eyes.

“I’ve saved up a bunch of money, enough for you to pick out a new place just for the two of us.”

“Even though I did most of the budgeting and he cried every time I told him he couldn’t spend that money.”

“Akaashi!” Kuroo leaned over Bokuto to push Akaashi by the shoulder, successfully shutting him up for now.

“And I know your dad keeps saying that you should find someone better than me, but I must have caught him in a good mood, because…” You watched as Bokuto slipped a ring on your finger, bold and eye-catching, just like him. “He gave me his blessing!” The grin he beamed up at you was blinding, and you couldn’t resist wrapping him up in your arms.