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"I'm nervous." Bokuto signed to his black haired friend, immediately picking at his fingernails after he finished his sentence. 

Akaashi softly smacked his hands, stopping the aggressive picking. "You'll be fine. Besides, you still have a week." The teen grinned, teeth showing his excitement. And although his smile was still slightly stiff and awkward, he could tell Bokuto felt better. 

Sighing, Bokuto took one more soft glance at Akaashi before looking away. 

It had been a couple weeks since the band had been announced and forced into a groupchat. And so far, everyone was getting along efficiently and without problems. Yet Akaashi couldn't help but feel uncomfortable at first. Afterall, Bokuto knew everyone else, while Akaashi had never met these people in his life. 

Anxiety was ever present as his artistic brain stumbled with overthinking. 

But Bokuto quelled the inner turmoil efficiently as he nudged Akaashi and the group to interact and get to know each other on a more personal basis. Akaashi still stuck to Bokuto's side though, slightly nervous to accidentally make a fool of himself. Especially since he was coined manager. 

The band had yet to even get together, so Akaashi felt he would bring up dates in the near future. Practice is necessary to raise a band after all. 

But he would do that after Bokuto got over his fear of physically meeting Akaashi's father. 

Akia had invited the Bokuto family to dinner the next Saturday, and while they were neighbors, the idea of having dinner with Akaashi and his family was daunting outside the safety of their own home. 

A small, light smack landed on Bokuto's shoulder. Jumping, he looked up and blinked a couple times before processing Akaashi's signing. "You're worrying over nothing." 

Scoffing, the pianist rolled his eyes. "Actually, I am worrying over everything." 

That garnered a laugh from Akaashi, which broke the ice to the point of both teens clutching their abdominals as humor overtook them. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Overall, the dinner went smoothly. At first an awkward tension had enveloped the table, but one that was broken, conversation never dulled. Of course, Akaashi's father had asked Bokuto a lot of questions at first, such as how he met the introverted Akaashi. Bokuto had turned bright red at having to retell his embarrassing excitement when verbally trying to speak to his neighbor, only to later realize Akaashi was deaf.

That had gotten a good laugh out of everyone at the table. 

The food was nice too, and by the end of dinner, Bokuto was sitting at Akaashi's desk, stomach content and full. He rubbed it lightly. 

"See, nothing you had to worry over." Akaashi signed. 

Bokuto rolled his eyes, before replying. "Yeah, but it was still nerve wracking at first." 

Not knowing what to say, Akaashi just shrugged in reply, walking over to one of his shelving units to pull out a sketchpad--a different one from the time he had attempted at drawing a bird. 

Akaashi moved towards his bed, picking up a pencil along the way. Then he plopped down on the bed, bouncing slightly as he got situated. 

Bokuto, being ever nosey, followed Akaashi and sat next to him. Over the course of the next few minutes, the two sat in silence. One drawing serenely, and the other watching pencil marks come to life. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I've been thinking of setting up a date for the band to start developing music together. Or at least discussing possible music to play as a group." Akaashi signed, brows furrowed. 

Bokuto, who was now laying on the floor of Akaashi's bedroom, smiled up at the anxious Painter. "Oh really?" He asked, the ghost of a smile littering his face. "What dates were you thinking?" 

Akaashi shrugged, pulling up a calendar on his phone. "That's the problem…" He paused, using his fingers to tap on the screen for a few moments. "What days are you free over the next couple of weeks?" 

Bokuto groaned, forcing himself off his comfortable position on the floor and over to his phone. The same phone that had been thrown across the room and landed on a beanbag chair from when he excitedly entered earlier. 

It had been almost a week since he was invited to Akaashi's family dinner, and ever since then the two were hardly ever separated. Bokuto was either at School or Akaashi's house. And Akaashi was either holed in his room, or most likely, at Bokuto's house. 

The perks of being neighbors included always knowing if each other were home, and not having to schedule specific times to meet up. Afterall, they were literally living next to each other. 

I think I’ll be free at literally any time.” Bokuto said aloud and signed at the same time. Akaashi nodded and looked down at his phone calendar before switching apps. Bokuto watched as nimble fingers flitted across the screen as the raven haired individual began to text on the group chat. Bokuto picked up his phone from the beanbag chair in just enough time to watch as the device alerted him to a new message, 

Akaashi: Hey, Bokuto and I were discussing getting the band to meet up for the first time, but we need dates when everyone is free. Could we all be able to meet up on the eighteenth or twenty-third? If those days don’t work well, then feel free to say what days are off limits and which are open. 

Bokuto laughed to himself, finding Akaashi’s bluntness comical. 

Bokuto: free any day

Bokuto: that was so straight forward Aka

Bokuto heard a small tap and looked up from his phone. Akaashi met his gaze with amused eyes before lifting his hands, phone discarded on the floor. “Aka?” He asks. 

Bokuto shrugs, not answering Akaashi, but neither are blind to the glint of mischief in the pianist's eye. 

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