Haikyuu imagines

7 minutes in heaven- Akaashi

The house party is loud-too loud-so you duck into the hallway for air.

You turn the corner at the same time Akaashi does.

You collide chest-first into him.

His hands come up instantly, steadying you by the elbows. His breath catches. Yours does, too.

Before either of you can apologize, a very drunk third-year stumbles around the corner, squints at the two of you practically chest-to-chest, and screams:

"YOU TWO! CLOSET! NOW!"

You jolt. Akaashi blinks. Both of you open your mouths to protest-

-but the guy is already barreling toward you, chanting:

"CLOSET CLOSET CLOSET-SEVEN MINUTES-GO!"

Akaashi exhales a tiny laugh, the kind that only slips out when he's too caught off guard to stop it. Then he reaches out, fingers circling your wrist.

Gentle. But decisive.

"Come on," he murmurs. "Before he causes a scene."

You don't even have a second to react.

Because he pulls you into the coat closet with him, shuts the door softly behind you- and you're suddenly pressed between the wall of winter jackets and Akaashi's broad shoulders, the low light making his eyes even more unfairly pretty.

He leans one hand beside your head to keep his distance... but he's still close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off him.

Outside, the drunk guy yells, "THEY'RE IN! START THE TIMER!"

Then laughter fades down the hall.

Silence.

Akaashi looks at you.

Slowly... a smirk tugs at his mouth-barely there, subtle, devastating.

"Fine," he says softly, amusement threading through his voice. "Let's give them a show."

Your heart drops straight to your stomach.

"A-Akaashi-"

He steps just a little closer, the air tightening between you.

"I'm joking," he assures gently, voice dropping low enough that it brushes over your skin like a feather. "Mostly."

You swallow. "Mostly?"

His eyes soften, the smirk fading into something warmer. More honest.

"They're going to assume something anyway," he murmurs. "But-I won't do anything you don't want me to."

Your breath stutters when his fingers brush yours.

Not grabbing. Not assuming. Just a question.

He glances down at your intertwined fingertips, then back up.

"You're shaking," he says quietly. "Are you alright?"

You almost laugh. "I-yeah. Just... surprised."

Akaashi releases a slow breath, almost relieved.

"Good," he says. "Because... if I'm being honest-"

He leans in, close enough that your noses nearly brush.

"-there are worse people I could get locked in a closet with."

Heat rushes up your neck.

You whisper, "Akaashi..."

His eyes flicker to your lips.

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs. "Even if you don't mean it."

Your heartbeat is loud enough that he probably hears it.

You don't tell him to stop.

And his lips just barely graze yours-

BANG.

The closet door is yanked open, light flooding in.

A group of loud partygoers cheer:

"TIME'S UP-WAIT DID THEY KISS-?!"

Akaashi steps back instantly, clearing his throat, expression smooth but his ears bright red.

You, breathless and warm, try not to melt into the coat rack.

Akaashi offers you a hand out of the closet.

"Shall we?" he asks softly.

But he leans in one last time, voice barely a whisper against your ear:

"Next time... we can finish without the audience."