𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 | bokuaka!

𝟕.

"Akaashi, are you seeing her?" Bokuto asks when he finally gets back home, thirty one minutes after 10 p.m, may I add, as he stands near the entrance of the apartment's doorway.

"No, I'm not." I answer truthfully, stuffing my hands in my pockets as I rise to stand again. He enters my living area after closing the door, dropping some snacks down by the side of the door near the kitchen. I had left the door unlocked, so he had come in that way, but I'm thinking I should've just left it locked. Maybe he'd go away and stop trying to live here after a while.

"Then, what's that?" He points towards the right temple of his own cheek and I mirror his actions, feeling the sticky solution of lipstick.

Her lipstick had left an imprint, a rich, dark blood-red color. I withdraw the hand to see the pigment on my fingertips, confirming the feeling. I heavily sigh, preparing a calm reply but Bokuto interrupts me.

"Are you lying to me?" He asks softly, wondering, as I glance up at him. He looks utterly distraught but I furrow my eyebrows at his words, why is he the one looking overcast?

And then something snaps inside me.
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"Am I, lying to you?" I hiss, and all of a sudden a pent up, overwhelming flood of emotions seems to escape past my lips. I clench my jaw tight and Bokuto flinches at my tone, looking extremely guilty when he realizes what he said.

"What the hell, Bokuto? Are you even in a place to be asking stupid shit like that?!" I curse angrily, rage boiling in my core. My heart aches and my head pounds and everything is just- it's just infuriating, my mind is a huge mess. I can't even think properly or form my sentences without spitting out borderline hatred.

"Who are you even to ask if I'm seeing anyone?? After leaving me 5 years ago with a bullshit reason? What's it to you?" I scoff, as I begin to approach him. He widens his eyes and slowly walks backwards until he's pressed up against the door of the house.

I accusingly point at the male, backing him up against the wall until my finger is pressed to his chest.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, Koutaro?" I raise my voice even higher, but it cracks under the pressure of my emotion. "Because right now you are not the high and mighty ace that I played side by side with."

He gulps, knowing best to stay quiet as he keeps his eyes trained on my fuming figure.

I take a huge step back from him, looking him up and down with a subjective glare that could sharpen knives. Tears threaten my eyes, so I tear my gaze away to the ground. I angrily and rather repeatedly fidget with my fingers while taking deep breaths, maybe to calm myself down.

It's probably minutes before the dual-color haired boy makes an attempt to speak up through the tightly-strung air. "Nothing I did was excusable."

"No shit, Sherlock..." I grumble, burying my face in my hands as I sigh, trying to calm my nerves which are standing on edge.

"You really, really didn't deserve that...." He chuckles bitterly. His voice grows a bit quiet.

"Tell me something I don't know..." I growl under my breath. But when I look up I freeze and my heart almost stops. I shake almost uncontrollably as I look at the sight in front of me. Never, in my years of knowing Koutaro have I seen him cry.

But here he is, salty tears trailing down his face, eyes red and growing irritated. His lips are curled into a grin, maybe to try to fool his psyche, but it appears to be failing. A look of disbelief is hidden within the streams of his tears as he sniffles, and wipes his tears with the back of his hands. He looks at the bodily function, a result of his turmoil, as if it was surreal.

"Wow... I-I haven't cried in ages..." He mumbles, sniffling repeatedly. "I really haven't, haven't been able to, at all really..." His words replay, an obvious stutter as I just stare wide eyed at him.

I turn away curtly, because I know seeing him like this will cause me to give in. To what, I'm not sure, but my own eyes begin to water as I bite the insides of my cheeks to ground myself.

"What the hell are you doing? Trying to guilt trip me?!" I force the words out of my mouth abrasively. It certainly isn't what I'm thinking, my only thought is to comfort him but I can't help but feel like he's tricking me.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," He's a broken record behind me. "I'm not meaning to guilt trip you!"

"Calm down!" I seethe, whipping around to see Bokuto completely silent. He sniffles a couple times, but doesn't sob anymore so I sigh.

"I broke up with you because I felt like being gay was kind of wrong!" He harshly admits, spewing out the words rather quickly. I'm speechless, but I purse my lips as I stare up at him.

"And my parents didn't like it..." He continues, wiping his tear stained cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater. But his words reopen another set of emotion inside me, one I'd locked away. The insecurity of my ability to communicate.

"Did you not trust me enough to directly express that...?" I slowly question, and his eyes broaden as he grabs a firm hold of my shoulders, pulling me a bit closer. I let it happen, of course, because my body has grown limp and my mind is still processing.

"Fuck no, Keiji," He breathes out, "It's just I wasn't comfortable with who I was. I was being really dumb at the time to you and for some reason I just... was being a coward." He struggles with his words.

"You are more than a coward, you're a wimp. Why should I listen to you right now." I grumble.

"You gave me three days to tell you why I showed up after so long, right? I won't rest until you hear every word I've got to say, or I'll never forgive myself," Koutarou begs, squeezing my shoulders while locking eyes with me.

"...Okay, go on."

word count: 1094