Haikyu Fluff (Requests open)

Bokuto~ Stargazing

"Star-gazing was a good idea," Bokuto said, half sighing with a cheeky grin.

 "Anytime I'm with you is a good time," you replied, shifting from lying on the slightly cold grass to his shoulder.

 It was a chilly night, perfect for sweatshirts, blankets, and star-gazing of course. 

A comfortable silence settled between both of you. Bokuto was the first to speak again, asking, 

"What's your favorite constellation?" 

You stared hard at the endless black sky, billions of blinking lights staring back at you. 

"[insert favorite here]" you said, smiling. copy and paste this and search it: https://sleepopolis.com/education/constellations-stars/

"What about you?" You added, taking a deep breath of the brisk air and Bokuto's scent in.

"I like Virgo the best. That's my zodiac sign. She's the goddess of justice..." he said, glancing over at you while he did so.

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and closed your eyes. You shivered, but it was okay because you had been needing to shiver. You had been needing to feel that frosty feeling on your skin. It had been too long since you had felt a pleasurable discomfort like that. It was almost comforting to be uncomfortable. You hadn't shivered from the cold in months and you had almost forgotten what that felt like.

"I've changed my mind," Bokuto said, wrapping an arm around you.

"Out of all the stars, my favorite is you," he said, with a smirk.

You laughed, your heart going nuts inside of you. 

"You're so stupid," you said, kissing him on the cheek. 

....and cute... you added in your head. 

"You're so perfect," he said in reply, kissing you on the head. 

Then, the two of you continued to lay on the open field together, staring at the stars for as long as you could before the aching numb feeling in your noses and ears was too much to bear, or your brain got used to the night air and you could no longer smell the fresh pine and wet grass you had noticed so vividly before. 

Eventually, you headed back with him in his car, with late-night coffee shop music playing on the radio and the heat blasting the hair out of your face. 

"Let's make some ramen!" he suggested, running to his small kitchen to retrieve the pot, wooden spoon, and ramen packets. 

You could hear the running water from the sink while you found a fuzzy blanket draped over the couch to wrap yourself in. As he was waiting for the water to boil, he ran back into the living room. 

Seeing you wrapped, he smiled and picked you up bridal style. Laughing, he spun around the room with you clutching to him in fear. 

"That's a great idea! Let's do a blanket burrito together!" he said, kissing your cheek. 

It began to drizzle outside just in time for the ramen to be done, and you happily reached around Bokuto's waist to press the blanket to his back, before wrapping around yourself and around again until you both achieved proper blanket-burrito comfiness. 

Then, you were curled up on his couch together, feet tucked under thighs and arms around shoulders, watching the kind of crap tv that only aired at 3 am because neither of you wanted to untangle from each other and go to bed. 

After you both fell asleep and rewoke on each other's shoulders several times, you decided it'd be best to get to sleep, so you stood up with Bokuto slumped over your shoulders, him almost already asleep. You groaned and slumped on the nearby bed for a little rest. 

At some point, you vaguely remember waking up to Bokuto helping you change into pajamas, and him carrying you back to the bed. Hushed breathing, feather-light touches, and subconscious cuddling. 

And when you woke the next morning next to a handsome boy with a beautiful bedhead, you realized you had been tucked in at some point during the night, too. 

"Good morning..." he said groggily. 

"Good morning!" you said, admiring his face scrunched against the pillow and his deep morning voice.

You reached a hand out and smoothed his hair. His barely open eyes immediately shut again, and he melted into your touch. Smiling, you massaged his head, stroking his scalp and twirling the ends of his smooth hair with your finger. You dug your fingers underneath the fluff, hiding your hand completely in the mess of gray and black. For all the gelling he did to get his hair to spike it every day, his hair was still incredibly soft, which never failed to shock you when you ended up touching his hair in some way.