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Bokuto

Bokuto narrowed his eyes when he saw Kuroo at the gates of Fukurodani on Monday morning.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to Keiji. It has nothing to do with you."

"It does have something to do with me."

"Because you're in love with him?"

"Because I'm his friend!"

"Is that so? Tell me, does he know how you feel? Do you really think he'll stick around when he finds out?" A small crowd had gathered, anticipating a fight. "It's simple, Bokuto. You're not Akaashi's type. It's only a matter of time until he comes running back to me. He'll never love you."

A hand on Bokuto's arm stopped him from throwing a punch.

"Go away, Kuroo," Akaashi mumbled. "You're not wanted here."

"Keiji, babe," Kuroo started.

"I'm not your babe. Leave."

The rest of the football team gathered behind them now; a slient support system that let Akaashi stand taller. Bokuto smiled at the change.

Kuroo wasn't stupid. He knew he was outnumbered and that this battle was over. He had lost.

"Fine, but this isn't over." He spun on his heel, stalking off.

Bokuto felt a hand in his. Akaashi squeezed it, then hurried inside the gates as the late bell rang.