Archive of Our Own

It took a special kind of person to willingly step into a burning building, or sift through the twisted metal remains of a car wreck looking for survivors; and a very special one to not get a sick sort of addiction to the thrill of thwarting danger and saving someone else.

Still, whatever the damage or the danger present in a situation, Bokuto counted himself grateful to have landed in a career he loved.

This afternoon was one of the less harrowing incidents he’d experienced: a false alarm at a nearby elementary school.

From what he’d been able to gather so far, a rice cooker had blown a fuse in the teacher’s lounge, causing a small fire–which the secretary had bravely put out with a fire extinguisher. But, for safety’s sake, all the children and staff had evacuated until the fire department could do a full sweep to be sure that there wasn’t any further damage.

He had just been about to exit and give the all-clear when his radio crackled to life. “You still inside, Bokkun?”

“Yeah, I’m still here, Tsum-Tsum– what’s up? I was just about to give the all clear. . .”

“One of the preschool classes has a kid missing, a little girl named Yuna, they need y’all to find her. She has asthma, her teacher’s thinkin’ she had an attack and is stranded somewhere.”

“Roger that, I’ll find her. Do they know where she was last?”

“Her teacher says that she’d been in the nurse's office, nurse says she sent her back to class about 5 minutes before the alarm went off. Both the nurse’s office and her classroom are on the first floor.”

“Got it, I’ll find her. Hinata, can you shut off the-”

The flashing lights and blaring alarms inside the building suddenly cut out.

“Already done, Bokuto-san!”

Bokuto shut off his air tank and pulled the mask off, letting it hang slack around his neck. There wasn’t any smoke or particle debris to worry about in the air, and if he was going to find a distressed kid, he didn’t want to look too scary.

He moved carefully through the first floor, peering into classrooms, crouching down to try and spot a tiny body huddled in any corners or under a desk.

“Thanks, Hinata– I’m thinking the alarms might have spooked her. Are there paramedics on site?”

“Yeah, the wee-yoo wagon’s been here fer about 10 minutes, I’ll tell ‘em to hang back.”

After about 3 minutes of searching, he radioed out again.

“Tsum-tsum, what was this kid’s class number? I’ve checked all the preschool rooms, no sign of her yet. . .”

He headed towards the front of the building while he waited for a response.

“Class 3, it’s on the east wing-”

Just as he approached the bathrooms, he heard the smallest of sounds, somewhere between gasps and a spastic case of hiccups.

“Sorry, cut the chatter for a sec, I think I hear something. Two seconds, Tsum-Tsum.”

He slid back the door to the girl’s bathroom and called inside. The sound of ragged, uneven breathing was even more evident now.

“Fire Department! Are you alright? Do you need help?”

No response, just more stuttered gasps.

“Alright, I’m coming in!”

A little girl, no more than 5, was curled up, half-conscious and skin tinged just a little bit blue, underneath one of the sinks on the far side of the tiled room.

He crouched down in front of her. “It’s gonna be okay, Yuna-chan, let’s get you out of here and get you some air, okay?”

Yuna cringed away from him a little, but was barely able to move.

An idea struck him; he pulled his face mask loose and radioed in.

“Found her! If the medics don’t have an inhaler, send the nurse back in to get Yuna’s– poor kid can’t hardly breathe. I’ll be out in just a second.”

Turning the air back on from his tank, Bokuto held the mask up to the little girl’s face. She fought that a little too, but he held the back of her head softly so that she couldn’t get away from the air that her body desperately needed.

“My name is Bo, I’m a firefighter– Don’t be scared. I heard your name is Yuna?” She nodded just a little, eyes opening a fraction more.

“That’s a very pretty name. This thing will help you breathe a bit better– think you can hold onto it for me?”

Her eyes were clearing a little and she nodded again, tiny fingers curling around the edge of the fiberglass air mask.

“Good girl. You just hold onto that and try to take some big, deep breaths, okay? I’m going to pick you up now.”

She flung her free arm around his neck before he could even reach down to scoop her up.

“Whoa! Make sure to hold onto that mask; I’m going to take you outside to your class, okay? I have some friends out there that will get you your inhaler too- sound good?”

He felt her hand fist tightly into the heavy canvas of his turnout coat as he straightened up slowly, taking care not to hit her head on the edge of the sink before jogging outside to meet the paramedics.

Who is that?

Hell, who am I? Where am I?

When he’d approached the ambulance, the young man waiting inside had taken him completely by surprise, to the point he’d felt as breathless as little Yuna:

Beautiful, bottomless blue eyes and curly ebony hair framed a smooth, olive toned face; the midnight blue of the paramedic uniform wrapped perfectly around a long and lithe frame, accentuating lean, muscled arms, and a strong collarbone peeked through behind the undone top two buttons.

How did Osaka Medical Network hire this angel of healing and vitality? And why did they put him on an ambulance crew?

“Um, sir?”

He blinked for a moment at the Earth Angel in front of him and then reality came crashing back in when Yuna began to squirm in his arms.

“Sir, that child needs medical attention, if you could-”

“Sorry! I’m sorry, uh-” He glanced around wildly until he noticed the name embroidered on Earth Angel’s breast pocket: Akaashi K. “I’m sorry, Akashi!”

He hefted Yuna up into the ambulance to have her sit on the edge of the gurney, but she scrambled to try and keep hold of him, lower lip wobbling.

“It seems you’ve made a friend, Bokuto-san. Would you introduce us?” The medic was asking him, voice quiet and friendly as he crouched down next to the gurney with a rescue inhaler in hand, though he turned to the side and hissed so that only Bokuto could hear “It’s Aka-a-shi. Two a’s.”

He started from his trance at the siren’s request.

“Oh! Sure– Yuna-chan, this is my friend, Akaashi! He’s gonna help you breathe a bit better, okay?”

She was still holding onto his face mask and gasping for breath, but the little girl hid her face behind the clear fiberglass anyway, looking up shyly at Akaashi.

“Hello, Miss Yuna. Do you have an inhaler at home? You can nod yes or no.”

The little girl looked over at him and then tentatively nodded ‘yes’.

“Great, you should be a pro at this then,” Akaashi held the inhaler out to her, “Press down on the top and take two big, slow breaths with it.”

She still seemed hesitant, but Bokuto had an idea.

“Yuna-chan, may I have my face mask back? I need to breathe too. . .” He mimed struggling to breathe, wrapping his hands around his neck and choking dramatically. Yuna only giggled.

He slumped into the side of the ambulance, still gasping, crossing his eyes for extra effect.

“Oh no! This is the end!” he croaked. “ ‘Kaashi, tell my family I love them!”

Immediately, the little girl shoved the mask back towards him, eyes wide. He accepted it and took several grateful gasps before shrugging the air tank off his back and turning the valve to ‘off’.

“Whew! That was a close one!” He took off his helmet and stowed it under his arm, wiping a hand across his brow. Yuna was giggling and kicking her feet, the sound of her laughter muffled by how her mouth closed around the rescue inhaler.

As soon as he straightened up though, she dropped the breathing device and pointed at his head.

“Why is your hair like that?” Her little voice was rough, but the color was returning to her cheeks.

The press of the helmet had flattened his spikes a little, like it always did.

“Oh, everyone in my family goes gray early-”

“If that were true, wouldn’t it be gray at the root, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi pulled the ends of the stethoscope out of his ear, preparing to check the girl’s other vitals.

The medic looked over at him out of the corner of those gorgeous blue eyes; the smallest of smiles pulled at those round, pink lips, and Bokuto felt like he was levitating.

‘Kaashi is smiling at me! He’s too cute. . . Ugh, how do I get his number without being totally weird about it?

“No, no! Why is it all jagged and spiky? You look like you were zapped by lightning!” She cried with glee, even as Akaashi fitted a smaller, child size oxygen mask over her face.

He felt around the circumference of his head, pretending to check the quality of his hair spikes before looking seriously at Akaashi.

“ ‘Kaashi, why didn’t you tell me I looked like I’d been zapped? This is the first I’m hearing of this. . . “ he said with complete sobriety. As soon as Yuna looked from him to the medic though, he threw the other man a wink.

“I think he might be part owl or something,” Akaashi stage-whispered conspiratorially to the girl behind his hand, not breaking his eye contact with Bokuto, arching a brow at him.

He gasped in mock-shock, placing a hand over his heart. “ ‘Kaashi, you wound me!”

Oh my god oh my god, he’s so CUTE.

How do I get your number? What station are you posted at? Or do you dispatch directly from one of the hospitals? Maybe straight from heaven? Please tell me you’re single.

He hadn’t seen a ring on the medic’s finger, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have a significant other.

UGH I didn’t even think of that! Please, please like guys, I will die right here in a kindergarten parking lot if you’re straight, Akaashi. . .

Before he could think of a way to ask Akaashi anything without being inappropriate in front of their young charge, a silver haired man with a lanyard and teacher’s badge around his neck jogged up to the ambulance.

“Yuna-chan! Thank goodness you’re alright!” As he drew closer, Bokuto read that his badge said Sensei Sugawara, Class 3. “Will she need to go to the hospital, Medic-san?”

The tiny bit of flirtation Akaashi had shown him fled from his face when the instructor addressed them.

“No, I think she’ll be fine. Bokuto-san here gave her some oxygen from his firefighting equipment before he brought her out, so she didn’t lose consciousness, and her vitals have stabilized,” Akaashi gestured at him while reporting back to the girl’s teacher.

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Yuna, I called your mother, she’s on her way to pick you up,” Sugawara gave the girl a reassuring pat on the back and sighed. “You’re released for the rest of the day as soon as she arrives. Asahi-sensei is going to send your sister home with your homework.”

The teacher turned to him and bowed profusely.

“And thank you, Bokuto-san! That was very clever of you, with the oxygen and such-”

“Oh, no need to thank me!” Bokuto waved his hands in front of his body, trying to politely dismiss the teacher’s praise. “My older sister has asthma, and I’ve seen her have some pretty bad attacks, so I knew what to do.”

The instructor only seemed to half hear him, turning back to Yuna and asking her “Did you thank Bokuto-san, Yuna?”

Before the little girl could answer, his radio chimed in again, more static feedback garbling the words because the other operator was only about 20 feet away.

“BO! Stop flirting with the medics and get your ass on the truck, or you’ll have to hitchhike to the next call!” It was Captain Meian’s gravelly voice on the other end.

Embarrassed, he crammed his helmet back on and scooped his air pack off the ground, looping the straps over one arm.

“It was a pleasure to meet you both,” he bowed briefly to Akaashi and Sugawara. “Take good care of yourself, Yuna-chan. Don’t hide next time you hear the fire alarm go off, okay?”

The girl nodded and waved at him as he jogged away.

Akaashi. Akaashi K., I wonder what the “K” stands for?

I bet it’s something simple but strong, just like him. . . Ken or Kio, maybe Kai?

Omigosh, if we got married, we’d have the same initials!!

Akaashi Koutarou does sound pretty cool, but maybe his given name would sound good with “Bokuto” too. . .

“Hey, Earth calling Bokkun!” Atsumu rapped his knuckles against the hard plastic of his helmet. “Are ya still with us, Bo?”

“No, he’s all doe-eyed over that new paramedic that just joined our station,” Barnes teased lightly from the driver’s seat.

Never one to miss an opportunity to rib on someone else, Inunaki joined in from the other side of Atsumu. “Damn, you’re right. I can see it on his face! If he had a pen and paper, he’d be writing out Mr. Akaashi Koutarou in hearts right now. . .”

A stray comment from the teasing of his comrades stuck in his brain.

“WAIT, ‘Kaashi just joined our station!?!?!?”

A collective groan rose up from the rest of the fire crew as they sped across Osaka to respond to another call for help.

Despite his best efforts, he learned very little about the pretty paramedic over the next two weeks.

He was a year younger than Bokuto, had grown up in the same area of Tokyo that he had, and (according to Sakusa) had even played volleyball!

“Itachiyama had a limited vocational tech program, but I didn’t have any classes with him. He might have been a part of the school paper?” The pale fire engineer sighed, putting down the tablet he’d been attempting to study in spite of Bokuto peppering him with questions about Akaashi in the common area of the Emergency Station one slow afternoon.

“I’m sorry, Bokuto-san, but I really don’t know him that well . . . We just both happened to play volleyball together in high school. He must have pivoted to studying paramedical technology in college.”

Sakusa was even relatively sure that the younger man had gone to university in Tokyo before relocating to Osaka, but couldn’t recall which one.

“Ooooommmiiiiiiii~” Bokuto whined. “How am I gonna sweep ‘Kaashi off his feet if I don't know anything about him??”

Sakusa grumbled and pinched his dark brows, seemingly praying for sanity.

“Look. . . I shouldn’t tell you this; so if anyone asks, you didn’t hear it from me, understand?”

He scooted even closer across the table, hands folded to beg, and Sakusa recoiled at his sudden close proximity.

“I asked you a question, Bokuto, and I’m not going to tell you shit unless you answer me first.”

“Yeah, Omi, anything! My lips are sealed!” He mimed drawing a zipper over his mouth.

“Okay,” Sakusa said slowly. “Our shifts ended at the same time two nights ago, and I. . . saw in the showers that he has a bi-pride tattoo.”

He must have seemed confused in the silence that followed because the engineer sighed again and tapped away on his tablet for a moment before turning it around to show Bokuto an image search results page full of flags with different blocky stripes of all different colors.

“This one,” a knobbly, pale finger pointed at a flag with purple, magenta, and blue stripes. “But it was hearts instead of just rectangular stripes.”

Before he could ask, Sakusa added with an evil smile “I’m not telling you where. Think of it as a scavenger hunt or something, I don’t care.”

“O-oh, um, okay, ” He nodded, feeling a hot flush creep over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “So, that means . . .”

Eyes as dark as onyx bore into him from across the table, darting away quickly to scan the room and ensure that no one was listening; thankfully, the common area was practically deserted. The only other people in the room were Inunaki and Hinata, who were engaged in a tense match of table tennis and paying no mind to the rest of the world.

“It means you have a shot, you horned-owl head!” Sakusa hissed. “He’s bi! As in, bisexual! He’s attracted to men, at least half of the time-”

“OH!” Bokuto gasped loudly in understanding, pointing a thumb into his chest. “I’m a man!”

“Omigod, lightbulb,” Sakusa groaned, making a gesture of illumination over his head.

“So then, what should I-”

“Oh no, I don’t have the time or patience for any more of this,” Sakusa stood with a curt nod. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d rather go scrub through last month’s incident reports than participate in this any more. If you want love advice, go talk to Miya.”

“I knew it! I knew ya had a crush on Keiji-kun!” Atsumu cried, kicking his feet down off their shared desk in the Lieutenant's office.

Bokuto didn’t mind sharing his duties with someone a few years less experienced than him; Atsumu had joined the department after trying to make it as a professional athlete, whereas Bokuto had to joined the Tokyo Junior Fire Brigade in his third year of high school and had enough on the job training as a result to transfer to Osaka as a full time Firefighter after he graduated, jumping ahead of other probationary recruits the same age as him.

Atsumu was way better at coordinating and strategizing their battalion from the ground, while Bokuto preferred to stay in the field and supervise fire suppression and rescue efforts first hand, so they made a great team– even if it would have made more sense to only promote Atsumu to Lieutenant.

“Omi told me that he’s pretty sure ‘Kaashi is into guys– I just don’t know how to approach him! He’s new here and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable or anything. . .”

“Hmmm. . . I see what you mean. Keiji-kun can come off as pretty aloof-”

Bokuto frowned. “Wait, do you two know each other? You keep calling him by his first name. . . and I don’t know what a loof is, but that doesn’t seem very nice, Tsum-Tsum.”

Atsumu just stared for a moment, his signature crooked, mouth slightly open, smile growing by the second.

“Nah, ‘aloof’, Bokkun, it’s all one word– means, like ‘cold and unfriendly’ – but he’s not really! He’s just the kinda guy that’s always thinkin’, and it makes him seem like he doesn’t want to talk or anything; but he’s pretty cool once you get to know him.”

Before he could ask again, Atsumu clarified “He and Samu dated for a little while but they broke up maybe. . . I dunno, a year or two ago? It was mutual. They don’t talk much anymore, but I think they’re still friends. If he’d broken my dumbass brother’s heart, I sure wouldn’t be telling ya to go for it.”

He’d only met Atsumu’s identical twin a handful of times, but Bokuto noticed something immediately that concerned him.

“What if I’m not his type? Osamu and I don’t have a lot in common. . .”

“Don’t sweat it, buddy. I don’t think the differences between you two are gonna be a problem; they broke up because the long distance was too stressful with yer ‘Kaashi finishing his paramedical training here and Samu launching another branch of Onigiri Miya in Tokyo.”

“Oh. Yeah, I can see how that would be tough. . .”

He hadn’t really dated anyone seriously as an adult, not for more than a month or two; he loved his job and it was critical that he be available to dispatch to the site of a fire, or an accident, or go investigate a gas leak at a moment’s notice.

For a moment there, he and Hinata had been stuck in a miserable race (unwillingly, of course) to have the most dates interrupted by calls, until the redhead had begun dating a moody technician at one of the local hospitals a few months ago.

The thought of all the times Hinata had complained to him about Kageyama-kun being on a shift schedule that made spending time together nearly impossible reminded him that he and Akaashi would likely have the same difficulty.

“If he and Osamu broke up because they couldn’t make time to see each other, then I don’t think ‘Kaashi would be any more interested in me. . .” Bokuto pouted.

“Oh gee, if only you knew someone who could getcha both on the same rotation,” Atsumu rolled his eyes. “Work with him a couple times and let him get to know you. If yer not total strangers, I guarantee he’ll warm up to you if you give him time.”

“Maybe. . . but I haven’t seen him around much since that false alarm at the preschool awhile ago; I think he’s usually on the night shift. I gotta be around on days to do the whole Lieutenant thing.”

This is never going to work. . . besides, ‘Kaashi seems like a really good medic, and if he broke up with his last boyfriend because their schedules didn’t work out, it would make sense if he was hesitant about dating someone he worked with directly.

I don’t want to pester him and make him have to transfer stations or anything!

“Hey now,” Atsumu stood up suddenly, and clapped a hand to his shoulder. “You’re a real catch, Bokkun; I don’t wanna hear any of your moody crap on this one.”

The blond turned around and dug an arm into one of the filing cabinets behind the desk. “Lessee here. . .”

After a long time searching, he pulled out a small silver key and stepped over to unlock another cabinet, which Bokuto knew stored all the personnel files for the EMT staff.

“Um, Tsum-Tsum? Should you-”

“Hush, Bokkun, we’re just doing some recon– ah, perfect, he’s right at the front of the alphabet-” Atsumu pulled out a thin manila folder that only looked to contain a few sheafs of paper.

“Well, obviously yer guy hasn’t been here long enough ta get in trouble, but even then, there’s no write ups or anything in his file from Osaka Technical College or the hospital where he did his practicum. . .” Atsumu looked up at him and squinted for a moment before going back to sifting through the short file.

“What?”

Atsumu shrugged and didn’t look up. “Nothin’.”

“What? What is it?!”

“Aw, nothin’, just says that he’s deathly allergic to silver-haired weirdos. Might be a problem.”

He couldn’t help but furrow his brow again, even though he knew his friend was messing with him.

“It does not say that; how did he date Osamu if he couldn’t be around silver hair?”

Atsumu guffawed at his comeback.

“HAH! Okay, I gotta tell ‘Samu that one!” Atsumu snapped the file closed and replaced it in the drawer.

“I was debatin’ whether or not to give you his number now; I think you can get it on your own though. Keiji-kun’s not gonna like it if he feels like he’s bein’ pushed.” Atsumu sat back down behind the desk. “Good news first or bad news?”

“How bad is bad?”

“Yer right that I probably can’t get y’all on the same shift; at least not on the regular, he requested nights and no one in their right mind ever wants to work nights. Maybe I could getcha one day/night switch a week, but I’d have to talk to Udai-san first and I dunno how many people you want to tell about your intent to woo a co-worker.”

Bokuto nodded. “Probably best if I try to be subtle; if ‘Kaashi is an over-thinker, I don’t want to give him anything to worry about, or screw up his personal life by having his supervisor change his schedule without notice.”

Atsumu smiled again. “See? You got this, Bo! I think you’re right on target; if we can’t change yer schedules, then we can just find another way to get y’all together on the regular.”

“But how?”

“This ‘s the good news: I got a couple ideas. Since yer on different schedules, you probably didn’t know that Keiji lives in the same apartment building as you, didja?”

Bokuto’s jaw dropped.

“WHAT? No, I spend so much time here, that I barely ever go back to my place! That’s great! Well, not great, but-”

The blinds covering the window that separated their office from the Captain’s shook slightly as Meian tapped on the glass. “I don’t know what you two are up to in there, but if you don’t keep it down, I’ll make sure you spend the next month on inspection.”

‘Inspection’ referred to the grueling work of checking the safety measures in place at all the businesses and communal living buildings in their district; usually it consisted primarily of logging fire extinguisher expiration dates in an ancient, printed spreadsheet.

Bokuto hated spreadsheets; he thought that they made for wonderful kindling.

“Okay, cool, I can work with that,” Bokuto whispered. “Anything else?”

“Yeah; he’s signed up for the safety demonstration circuit at the local schools. I made Omi and Wan-san from our department sign up because they needed the volunteer credits for the year, but I know you like working with the kids. Omi’d probably kiss you if you offered to switch with him-”

“OMG that’s-!” Bokuto remembered and scaled his voice back to a normal volume.

“That’s great– not the kissing Omi part, I’d rather kiss Akaashi– but yeah! I’d love to teach some kiddos about fire safety with him! He was so cute when he was tending to that little girl with asthma a couple weeks ago. . .”

I’ve lived here for 6 years, how did I never know that ‘Kaashi lived just downstairs?!

Because he only moved here last year, idiot.

That much he’d been able to wheedle out of Atsumu and Sakusa, but not much else.

What’s his favorite food? ‘Just talk to ‘im, Bokkun.’

Does his family still live in Tokyo? Does he have any siblings? ‘Do I have ‘Ask me something stupid’ printed on my forehead? Go away.’

He was jogging back from his morning laps at the municipal pool, trying to think of ways to get Akaashi to start talking to him without coming on too strong.

“But Kurooooooo! I’ve never asked out a guy before! What do I do??”

His best friend, still in Tokyo, sounded just as exhausted as he felt, even over the phone.

“Bo, he’s just a dude, not an alien; just talk to him. Get to know him,” Kuroo’s last words were lost in a mighty yawn.

“C’mon, Kuroo, I’m really at a loss here! I haven’t done the asking part before– you were always the suave guy, help me out here! How did you manage to seduce Kenma?”

“Whoawhoawhoa, you’re like EIGHT steps away from seduction, my dude. Like, at minimum. Also, don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to. What do you think got guys to ask you out before?”

“An active dating app profile, usually– but that feels so cheap here! I think I really ‘Like-Like’ ‘Kaashi, I’m not interested in a booty call and I don’t think he is either-”

A female voice in the background called out Kuroo’s name.

“Nevermind- Sorry, Bo gotta go, Court’s reconvening. Talk to this Akaashi guy. Don’t be weird. When you’re done being weird anyway, if he still talks to you, you’re golden. Call me next week and let me know how it goes?”

Bokuto grumbled a farewell and hung up, popping his headphones back into their case and shoving his phone back into his gym bag; the timing was actually pretty good, because he was turning onto his street and only had a block or so to go before he reached his building.

Just as he was drawing up to the Family Mart on the corner, who should come around the opposite corner, but Akaashi Keiji himself.

It could only have been more perfect if a beam of angelic light had broken through the clouds and guided Akaashi into his path.

He looks half dead; did he only just get off shift? It’s like 9:30 am!

Poor guy; wonder why he requested nights?

“Mornin, ‘Kaashi!” He called over with a wave. The paramedic had been looking in his general direction, but with the vacant stare of someone that had been awake and going non-stop for 16 hours.

“Hello, Bokuto-san. Is it morning? I’ve been working all night, so it still feels like night for me.”

Akaashi swayed, almost imperceptibly, on his feet as he spoke.

When the younger man made a swipe for the door of the konbini, he missed by a wide margin.

Bokuto slowed to a halt alongside him.

Is he normally this out of it after a long night’s work? Maybe I *should* see if Udai-san would re-assign him; it can’t be healthy to be this tired all the time. . .

He reached around and held the door open for Akaashi, who nodded his thanks and wandered silently into the store like he was on auto pilot, going straight for the cold case in the back. Bokuto watched him scoop up three packages of onigiri and a container of cucumber salad, before moving to the drink case and loading his remaining arm space with energy drinks.

“Um, ‘Kaashi? Please tell me this isn’t your breakfast. . .”

“This is not my breakfast,” Akaashi replied automatically.

“Ha ha, it’s not your dinner either though, right? Those drinks have a ton of bad stuff in them, ‘Kaashi.”

Akaashi was able to pin seven cans of energy drinks between one arm and his torso, balancing his food similarly with the other arm.

“Can you not call me that, Bokuto-san?”

“I mean, you don’t have to call me ‘Bokuto-san’, but you still do-”

Akaashi just blinked at him and turned to shuffle up to the register. In the time it took him to get in line, Bokuto had an idea, and he swept through the aisles quickly, grabbing some fresh fruit, a carton of eggs, a few yogurt cups, and a can of protein powder.

He got lucky that no one else had stepped into line behind Akaashi, so it was easy to sidle up next to him and set his purchases next to Akaashi’s when they got to the counter. The cashier arched a brow at him, but simply began scanning their items when he pointed at Akaashi and said, “Oh, we’re together.”

“Bokuto-san, what are you doing?” Akaashi hissed. His eye bags were even darker in the fluorescent light of the konbini than Bokuto had realized outside, even though it was well past sun-up by now.

“Look, ‘Kaashi, it’s been awhile since I worked nights– and they sucked, believe me!– but I think you would feel better and be a little less tired if you ate better.”

He fished his wallet and a reusable grocery tote out of his gym bag, handing the tote to the cashier and tapping his card on the reader while Akaashi stared at him, mouth slightly open.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Bokuto-san, but I cannot pay you back for this, at least not for a while. And I would’ve appreciated it if you’d asked me, I really don’t want to haul all of this back to my apartment-”

“Nonsense, ‘Kaashi! What are neighbors for?” he hefted the tote up and onto his shoulder easily, bidding the cashier farewell with a short, polite bow.

Akaashi’s mouth was fully open and aghast by now, but Bokuto just gently shooed him out of the store.

“Neighbors?” the younger man asked weakly.

Through what Bokuto could only assume was sheer will and an unhealthy amount of caffeine still in the beautiful paramedic’s system, he managed to guide an exhausted Akaashi back to their apartment building, the makings of a healthy breakfast in tow.

“So, what’s got you shuffling around all zombie style 3 hours after the shift change?”

Akaashi stiffened; Bokuto knew whatever call the medical team had gotten was likely to be a tender subject, but it was the way of life for their line of work.

If ‘Kaashi really doesn’t want to talk about it, I won’t press him.

“I had to stick around at the hospital and talk to the police after we delivered the last patient we picked up to the ER.”

Bokuto hummed in understanding. “Ah, that’s gotta suck. Never had to do that, thankfully; Tomassan is our investigator, he figures out the cause of fires and reports on all that stuff. Plus, I don’t really like cops.”

“That’s not a common view, Bokuto-san, some might find it a bit suspicious.”

“Nah, not really,” he shrugged, punching in the gate code to enter their apartment complex. “You just haven’t been around fire crews for long enough! It’s like cats and dogs, Akaashi; firefighters and cops get along when we have to, but there’s plenty of rivalry too.”

“Why is that? Oh, I’m over this way,” Akaashi gestured in the opposite direction of the complex from where he lived.

“Eh, I mean, if you were to ask me-”

“I am literally asking you right now.”

Bokuto snorted. “You’re kinda funny, ‘Kaashi, I like that about you– sorry, Ah-ka-a-shi, I forgot, you don’t like the nickname– Let’s see,” he said, tapping his chin thoughtfully with the hand not carrying a grocery tote.

“Oh! Tokyo Fire and Rescue always had this annual charity thing where we’d play a mini-volleyball tournament against TPD, and we creamed them every time. It was great, I wish we had something like that here.”

Akaashi arched a tired brow at him.

“But, anyway, the real answer is because firefighters have to actually figure out how to put out a fire and like, execute that plan, and try to save lives. Cops just get to show up and arrest everybody, ask questions later.”

The pair were quiet for a moment and a chilling thought occurred to Bokuto.

“Oh crap, Akaashi, you don’t know anyone in law enforcement do you? Did I just horribly insult you or your family? God, I’m such an idiot-”

“Relax, Bokuto-san, you didn’t insult me. No, no one in my family is in law enforcement. . . I’d just rather not talk about my last shift, is all.”

They walked on in silence for another minute before Akaashi spoke again.

“You must be off today,” the paramedic remarked as they ascended the stairs to the second floor, well past where Bokuto usually turned to go to his ground floor apartment. “Doesn't Day shift start at like 7am?”

“Yeah, usually. . . No wonder we've never run into each other before now; I mean, I usually spend most of my time at the station, but my apartment is on the other side of this block.”

“I see.”

Oh yeah, he's definitely on auto-pilot.

“Well, this is me. . .” Akaashi sighed as they walked up to the last door on this corner of the apartment block. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bokuto-san. I won't take up anymore of your day off-”

He dug his key into the lock and hovered there for a moment, hand on the knob, blue eyes staring right through him.

“Oh, it was no imposition, ‘Kaashi! You look like you just want to sleep, but if it's okay with you, I was gonna come in and make you breakfast!”

The paramedic looked at him with an arched brow again, the bow of his lips twisting like he wanted to say something rather rude but was holding back.

“Sorry, I shouldn't invite myself in like that!” Bokuto hurried on. “But, I don't mind, Akaashi, really. You're dead on your feet, I can tell; and even if you don’t want to talk about it, I know from experience that that probably means you had a bad night.”

Akaashi’s face softened for a moment before the mask of exhaustion slipped back into place.

“It's okay to rely on the rest of your crew– I don't think I'd have made it through my first year if Meian-san and his wife didn't half-adopt me.”

“Well . . . As long as you don't mind making something I can eat later-”

Bokuto beamed. Got ‘im.

“Oh, of course! You get some sleep, I'll put your stuff in the fridge and everything. I promise I'll even lock up before I leave,” he laughed.

The small, soft smile that tweaked the edges of Akaashi's heart-shaped face was too pure and radiant to look at head-on. He started to swing open the door and then yanked it back shut with a start.

“Oh, I almost forgot– you're not allergic to cats are you?”

“Uh, not that I know of? I had a dog growing up, but I wasn't allergic to him. . .”

“I see. Well, as soon as I open this door, I just know Mimi, my cat, is GOING to try to escape. For some reason, she's personally offended by the existence of locked doors. Don't let her get past you.”

Despite his hesitation at having some unexpected company, Akaashi passed out cold on his couch approximately 30 seconds after dropping his konbini purchases in the fridge and changing into a pair of sweats and a worn hoodie from Tokai University.

Bokuto did his best to keep quiet while he busied himself in the kitchen. Akaashi's food supplies were pretty spare, but he managed to find a few empty storage containers. Using those, he assembled some parfaits that Akaashi could grab and eat on his way out the door if he wanted, mixing in some of the protein powder with the yogurt and fruit.

This should give you some much more reliable energy to work with than those energy drinks.

In the cupboards, he also found enough miso to make a small batch of soup.

In the refrigerator, he rescued some wilting spring onions from a slow death in the bottom of the crisper drawer; he chopped those up and threw them in the rice cooker, along with Akaashi’s last scoop of rice. On the stove, he simmered some water to soft boil the eggs.

It doesn't seem like he shops or cooks that often . . . Still, I should probably write down what I used, in case he had plans to use any of those things.

An annoyed chirp interrupted his second dig through the cabinets to find a pen and some scratch paper.

A fat, scraggly furred black cat sat at the edge of the kitchen tile where it transitioned to the fake hardwood of the rest of the apartment, switching its tail. Jade green eyes studied him closely; he couldn’t recall whether or not cats could squint, but if they could, this one was for sure giving him the stink eye.

“Hi Mimi~,” he whispered. “I promise I'm not stealing your treats or anything.”

The only items that had been stocked in abundance in the cramped kitchen had been intended for feline use and consumption.

Akaashi hadn't spoken to the animal in a baby voice when they entered the home, which Bokuto found odd, as the younger man clearly doted on his pet.

‘She's a baby, Akaashi! You gotta talk to her like she's a baby!’

‘You fool; this creature is a goblin and she's clearly already cast her spell on you,’ the paramedic had said darkly, though he was still smiling faintly. She’d climbed up out of his arms while he gave Bokuto a short tour of the space, perching on his shoulders and rubbing her face aggressively into the side of his head.

At the time, he'd thought that Akaashi was just joking, in a weird, ‘my-brain-is-too-tired-to-do-good-humor’ sort of way.

Now, he was pretty sure this cat was growling at him.

Bokuto pulled back slowly from the cabinet he was crouched in front of, hands held up in surrender.

“Okay, okay, I'm backing off!”

Mimi took his concession as an opportunity to pounce, lunging forward and batting at his leg.

She remained underfoot for the next two minutes, rolling onto her back to kick at his foot whenever he nudged her playfully, until he left the kitchen after she escalated to nipping and swiping at his calves.

“You are a little demon,” he chuckled quietly.

Mimi stayed posted in the kitchen, still watching him closely, but she didn't pursue for the moment. He felt a little like he was being x-rayed.

It's not even noon yet; what else could I do?

He'd thought about doing some washing up, but was worried that would be crossing a line.

You don't go handling a man's drawers unless he's willing to let you see him without them.

The biggest drawback of this complex was there was no in-unit laundry; just a communal laundromat across the street from his wing of the building. As for the rest of the apartment, it was a little difficult to tell if it was tidy or just under-furnished.

I don’t want to wake him up by vacuuming. . . and I did up all the dishes I used to cook already. . .

No sooner than he'd drifted into the living room to see if there were any other small chores he could take care of for Akaashi, than did 5 kilos of angry fur ball sprint over to him and bite his ankle for real.

“Ow! Mimi-chan, I know you want to play but that hurts!”

He winced and clapped a hand over his mouth as Akaashi stirred on the couch.

“Sorry, Bokuto-san, she's very protective of me,” Akaashi slurred, drifting back to sleep almost instantly.

The cat pranced over to the couch and leapt up quite lightly for a creature of such girth, sitting directly on Akaashi's chest, kneading and purring loudly but not taking its harsh gaze off Bokuto for a second.

I can touch him and you can’t. Don’t even try it, the icy green glare said, clear as day.

Well.

We’ll just see about that won’t we.

________

Fire trucks are red

Ambulances are not

I’m bad with words

But I still think you’re hot

Akaashi crumpled up the pink and white heart shaped sticky note and tried to stuff it subtly into the pocket of his bag, joining the growing pile of discarded confessions that had begun to accumulate there.

Everytime a new note appeared, he had to will his heart not to jump.

C’mon Keiji, you’re better than this; a cute guy is leaving notes in your locker? Is it 2005, because this feels like middle school.

Oh shut up, it’s adorable and you know it.

The little love notes had begun appearing in his locker about a month after he ran into Bokuto at the konbini; at first it was just one note every few days.

However, after they’d been paired together to do 8 weeks of school demonstrations and host field trips at the station, the pace of the notes had increased significantly.

They were only 4 sessions in, out of a total of 16 planned, and Bokuto had already escalated to putting in notes asking about his day, printing out cute memes that he though Akaashi would like, even drawing little doodles of them as a pair of owls surrounded by hearts.

He wouldn’t have been surprised if Bokuto had somehow come into possession of a 1001 Terrible Puns for Emergency Services jokebook or something, as his notes now often contained something akin to poetry as well, which was always related to their shared careers as first responders.

I suppose that’s not very fair; most of these guys don’t know that you have a soft spot for literature.

Adorable or not; you’re not going to have time for each other.

Let’s review the options before you, shall we:

You take a shot, it doesn't work, your heart gets broken.

You ask him out, and it's great; but you don’t have time for each other, and your heart gets broken.

You get together, you make it work, maybe one of you switches careers to make it easier; then one of you resents the other and you still never see each other, so guess what: your heart gets broken, again.

Oh, and don’t forget, there’s always: You shoot your shot; he’s straight and now very offended, so you lose your job AND get your heart broken, along with a ‘be glad it’s not your neck’.

Ever since he’d broken up with his college sweetheart, Akaashi had been aching to reach out and make some connections here in Osaka; but his wounds from the past were still tender.

He couldn’t tame the fear that if he put himself out there again he was going to get burned; and how painfully ironic would it be to get burned by a sexy firefighter?

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Bokuto, or that he wasn’t attracted to men; quite the opposite. He’d only been able to retain his composure around the boisterous fireman for so long because– from the moment that they met, just after he was assigned to Osaka Emergency Station 120– Akaashi had been sincerely concerned that if he opened his mouth, his tongue would roll away, never to return again.

Bokuto wasn’t just attractive: Sure, he looked like he’d stepped out of a risque calendar for bored housewives, and his abs probably had abs on them; but he was also kind, very charming, silly when he could be, immeasurably brave when he had to be, great with kids. . . overall, just the picture of the sort of person who rescued kittens from trees and walked little old ladies across the street for fun.

He was also prone to fits of mood swings that Akaashi found he understood perfectly, and could even defuse now and then, something that even their fellow crew members didn’t seem able to do.

The thought of Bokuto professing his feelings– likely in grandiose fashion, much like the leads of the well-worn romance novels that were stashed away in the common area would– while still in turnout gear and smelling harshly of sweat and carcinogenic smoke was enough to make a slightly hysterical laugh build in his chest, one that he couldn’t fully stifle.

God, I’m so tired. The sentiment is quite sweet though . . .

Maybe I should’ve just given him my number after that last school trip. At least if he was blowing up my phone, instead of leaving notes in my locker, it wouldn’t be so obvious to everyone else what’s going on.

“Wait, wait, I didn’t get to read that one!” His shift partner squawked from a few paces down.

“You’re not missing much, Komi-san; it’s about as juvenile as the last 100 notes.”

“Ah! You think it’s cute! You’re smiling– Someone get a picture, quick!” Komi crowed. “Well? Are you going to throw the guy a bone?”

Akaashi wiped the smile from his face and scowled at him. It had been an extremely long night for the ambulance crew, and he was far too tired for this routine.

“Do I look like the Dog Catcher to you?”

Konoha came around the corner from the communal showers and made a sound like he was about to comment, until Akaashi wheeled his glare onto the other medic. Konoha choked back whatever he was about to say and slunk down to the end of the bank of lockers.

“That was rhetorical. Of course I’m not going to reciprocate; we’re co-workers, it would be unprofessional.”

The other five men on the night shift looked back at him; it was unclear whether they were confused or just as tired as he was.

“When a question is ‘rhetorical’, it means you don’t expect an answer,” Akaashi sighed, gathering the rest of his things. “In this case, to ‘reciprocate’ would mean returning Lt. Bokuto’s romantic feelings, which I do not.”

Washio snorted from the other side of the bank of lockers. “Survey shows that’s a lie. You’re sprung, Keiji, no shame in admitting it.”

When he turned to express his disapproval to their shift leader, he caught sight of Onaga pausing the buttoning of his shirt and raising his hand. Akaashi closed his eyes wearily.

It’s no use praying for patience. Just don’t be too blunt.

“Yes, Onaga-kun?”

“Was this the ambulance one?”

“Bokuto-san has written me no fewer than 35 notes that contain some form of reference to ambulances, you will need to be- Wait, how did you know that?”

The younger man at least had the good grace to look a bit guilty, lowering his hand to his neck when he responded quietly, “ Oh I. . . might have helped Bokuto, um, write that one last week. . .”

“Well, at least Bokuto-san found his calling as an emergency responder– his poetry isn’t getting any better.” Akaashi slammed his locker closed and made for the door.

“Respectfully, Onaga-kun, you should probably stick to the same. Now goodnight, all of you.”

Something about his coworker’s interest in his love life poked at the back of his mind, and he whirled one more time, hand on the screen to the locker room.

“In fact, if you could all mind your own business if Bokuto-san approaches one of you again, I would very much appreciate it.”

“Well, I volunteered as a junior firefighter when I was in high school, and it just made sense to continue and make a whole career out of it after I graduated. The work keeps me in shape and . . . it sounds kind of cheesy, but I really do like saving people.”

“How brave of you, Bokuto-san, and we thank you for your service. Same question to Akaashi-san: What made you decide to become a paramedic?”

The answer to that question was quite loaded. He dearly wished he had been able to review the questions that the schoolchildren were going to pose ahead of time.

“Well,” he began, trying not to seem alarmed when he looked out at the sea of faces, some fresh, some plagued with acne, very few paying attention.

They were volunteering at a middle school today, so he supposed he could be a little more direct with these kids.

“I really wanted to be a writer; a journalist specifically, because of the service that they provide to the community in keeping people informed about what’s going on in the world. But my parents really wanted me to go to medical school to become a doctor; so we compromised, and I went to medical school.”

The smile he sent the audience must have been at least a little charming, as he’d hoped, because a quiet chuckle rippled through the assembly.

“It was quite difficult, and I ended up quitting and doing my certifications to become a paramedic after 3 years of pre-med, so as not to waste the medical training I already had. Emergency Services appealed to me because I was able to finish the program in about 6 months and get right to work.”

The kids and teachers gathered for the safety presentation nodded and clapped briefly.

As the host– the school’s principal, if he recalled correctly– moved on, he chanced a glance at Bokuto, who was sitting a few feet away from him. The silver haired man gave him a small ‘thumbs up’ and a million-watt smile.

Don’t blush, don’t blush. . . You’re in front of a crowd of adolescents, they can smell fear and discomfort of any kind.

He felt his face growing hot anyway and looked away sharply. . . only to find himself staring again seconds later.

Bokuto didn’t seem like he’d broken eye contact at all, and his smile was morphing into something much more inappropriate for the setting; lips just slightly pursed, pulling a lopsided grin that showed just enough of his teeth to seem a touch feral.

Their second volunteer activity that week was as host to a field trip of elementary school students at the station.

These children were much younger, somewhere around 8 or 9 years old, if Akaashi had to guess; and as a result, much farther outside his comfort zone in terms of supervision.

Bokuto though, was in his element, answering questions and showing off how some of the firefighting equipment worked.

Over the protests of the chaperones, he’d permitted the older children to line up and take turns sliding down the pole that led from the old crew quarters to the vehicle bay.

He also looks like a dream in that uniform. When not dressed to walk through burning buildings, the fire crews all wore matching black trousers and short sleeve button up shirts, with the emblem of the City of Osaka Fire Department embroidered on the breast pocket.

While the clothing was surely of a size that was intended to fit him, Akaashi couldn’t help but notice that the hems of Bokuto’s sleeves seemed to be straining around his muscular biceps.

In fact, it would have been easier to ignore a wailing siren directly over his head, because that was the closest thing that Akaashi could compare the disorganized feeling in his head to when he saw the way Bokuto’s body moved and shifted with practiced, athletic ease.

Keep it together, Keiji. You’re at work for fuck’s sake.

For his part, Akaashi was showing the other class around one of the ambulances, and doing his best to remain patient while repeatedly telling the same four or five boys to stop trying to open the locked cabinet drawers.

“Why are these locked?”

“So that the medical equipment inside stays sterile, and so that when the ambulance is moving, the drawers don’t go flying open.”

“How fast do you think you’d have to go to drift this thing?” another child called up from the front seat.

“Probably not that fast, but we have to drive safely, otherwise more people could get hurt than just the ones that called us-”

“Sensei told us that she doesn’t live at school, why do you guys live here at the fire station?”

“Dummy, it’s so that they can respond super fast to an accident or whatever.”

The innocence of youth had worn off on him rather quickly; now, his head was so full of annoying questions that Akaashi could feel himself developing a headache.

His pounding head was only made worse by one of the children finding the switch to activate the siren, the deafening noise rebounding off the concrete walls of the vehicle bay.

The sound summoned the other class from where they’d been, climbing all over one of the fire engines, twenty pairs of little feet racing over to see what was going on.

Akaashi clambered out of the back of the ambulance, ushering the children inside the vehicle out as well.

The siren cut out just as he tore open the driver door, but the sight of Bokuto behind the wheel, with a very guilty looking little boy hiding behind him in the middle seat stopped him short.

“Sorry about that, Akaashi; the switch for the siren is in a different place in the fire trucks,” Bokuto said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

I really can’t tell if he’s just covering for the kid or if he’s that dumb.

Bokuto’s gentle smile and pleading eyes, combined with the boy’s trembling lower lip was enough to make a bright flush creep up his neck. Shame on you, you know he’s not dumb.

“It’s alright, Bokuto-san, but I think it’s time to get out of the ambulance now.”

Akaashi backed up and let Bokuto clamber out of the cab of the ambulance, waiting while the firefighter turned to lift the child out of the vehicle and set him on the ground. The boy scampered back to a group of his peers.

A chorus of “ooooh”s and “You’re in trouble now, Bo” echoed around the bay, and Akaashi realized they’d attracted an audience of not just students but some of their fellow emergency personnel as well.

Komi stood next to Inunaki and Udai by the bay doors, the three of them whispering behind their hands; when he caught Udai’s eye, his supervisor just grinned back wickedly. Across the bay, Atsumu and Hinata were leaning out the interior door that led to the common area, watching with interest.

“Don’t be mad at Bokuto-san, Medic-san-” The boy had found his courage and tugged on Akaashi’s sleeve to get his attention.

Akaashi sighed. “I’m not mad; but please ask an adult next time if you don’t know what something does.”

Bokuto was wilting almost as much as the boy was.

“I really am sorry, ‘Kaashi-”

He unfolded his arms and turned so that only Bokuto could hear. “It’s all right; but could you take over from here? You’re way better at this than I am and that siren definitely didn’t help my headache.”

He leaned away again and asked, louder so that their audience could hear “Now then; have you shown them the fire hoses yet, Bokuto-san?”

Watching Bokuto’s mood lift as a cheer went up from the students surrounding them was the most endearing thing that Akaashi had seen in several years.

Why? he sighed internally; Why is it so easy to like you?

Bokuto wasn’t on duty that afternoon but Akaashi noticed the way his smile fell as soon as he trudged out of the common area.

He very nearly asked one of the other medics on his shift to help him come up with something, but Akaashi shuddered at the thought of the endless teasing that would follow. It took some time, but after about 30 minutes, he felt that he had a note drafted that was as cute as the ones that Bokuto had written to him, without communicating anything too untoward.

He folded up his confession into a paper airplane and crept down the hall to the crew quarters; Bokuto was curled up facing the wall on a bunk near the door.

Sucking in a deep breath, Akaashi tossed the note into the air; as soon as he was certain that it’s trajectory would land on target, he turned and dashed away.

You say I’m hot

Don’t make me blush

Guess you probably can’t see

Your own cute tush

Your words aren’t bad

I like them a lot

I’m not that rad

But let’s give it a shot

Here’s my number, please god, just don’t make me write in rhyme anymore. I’m free next week on Tuesday - AK

xx-xxxx

The sound of progressively incessant knocking woke him a day and a half later.

Well that didn’t take long.

The sun was shining, so he’d probably been asleep for at least a few hours; his shift had ended at 6 am and the horizon had only just begun to pinken with the beginnings of daylight when Akaashi had returned home to his apartment, promptly face-planting into the welcoming nest of his bedclothes.

The knocking finally stopped. Akaashi rolled over, pulling the blankets over his head with the intent of sleeping for at least another 4 hours, when his phone began to buzz with an incoming call.

After laying there contemplating whether he could learn to walk through walls and disappear without leaving his comfortable bed, the incoming notifications on his phone switched from calls to texts.

Bokuto-san, this had better be an emergency.

He swung his feet out of bed and padded groggily to the door, wrapping himself in a throw blanket from the end of the couch.

“Bokuto-san, I hope you realize that I only got in a few hours ago-”

Bokuto held a paper bag in the fist that was raised, apparently in mid-knock again, when he swung open the door.

The sight in front of him was too much for his tired mind to take in at once, so much so that he let the blanket slide from his shoulders unconsciously:

Bokuto was standing at his doorstep, not in uniform but again in workout clothes that accentuated his muscular form extremely well, holding a bag of what Akaashi suspected was intended to be breakfast for them in one hand and cradling a large black cat against his body with the other.

The creature was purring loudly, splayed over his forearm, with her face pushed into his elbow, tail draped placidly over his wrist.

“Hey, ‘Kaashi, I’m sorry to wake you, but-”

He missed the rest of whatever Bokuto said, whipping around to scan his tiny apartment in a panic.

How could I have missed Mimi escaping?!? God, I’m the worst pet owner. . .

“Did you not see my texts? I was gonna bring you breakfast again, but then I heard this little lady crying under the steps out front, and – Uh, ‘Kaashi, aren’t you cold?”

He spun back towards Bokuto and realized that the man was blushing hard. He wasn’t averting his gaze entirely, but he was keeping those unique amber eyes firmly trained to a spot on his forehead.

The early spring breeze tickled past his arms, just a hair too brisk to be comfortable, and with a violent shudder Akaashi was reminded that he’d only had the energy to procure some pajama pants that morning and had tumbled into bed shirtless.

He spent– probably only about 30 seconds, but it felt like ages– in a flailing limbo dance, trying simultaneously to cover his chest with his arms, recover the blanket from the floor, grab his cat from Bokuto, and hide behind the door.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, just- sorry, one second-” he was settling quickly on the option of retreating in utter shame, but Bokuto leaned forward through the door frame before he could slam it shut.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, ‘Kaashi, don’t be embarrassed! Go grab a shirt, I’ll just let myself in, if that’s alright . . .” The firefighter set his foot on the mat, but still hesitated, looking at him as if to confirm that it truly wasn’t rude to intrude in his space like this.

“Yes, alright, please, come in,” he said in a rush, letting go of the door knob and scrambling to retrieve his blanket and cover himself. “I’m sorry to have been such a bother to you, thank you for bringing Mimi back; she must have slipped out the front door when I came home earlier-”

He turned again, expecting Bokuto to have shed his shoes and entered the apartment; instead, he was met with 90kg of solid muscle mass just centimeters away, so close to him in the tiny genkan that he could feel the taller man’s body heat radiating off him through the thin lycra of his exercise clothing.

“It was no trouble, ‘Kaashi.” They were so close, Akaashi could have sworn that he felt the soft rumble of Bokuto’s deep voice reverberate through his body as it left his throat.

You’re staring. . .

He blinked forcefully and tried unsuccessfully to look anywhere else besides into the big golden eyes above him.

You’re STILL staring. . .

YOU’RE STARING, KEIJI, GET IT TOGETHER! Say something, or just move, dammit! Anything besides just standing here converting oxygen to carbon dioxide!

“Oh, sorry, uh. . . These apartments are pretty cramped, aren’t they?” he managed.

“Well, here; can I offer you breakfast? Or perhaps a cat?” Bokuto smiled broadly and shrugged each shoulder in turn, gesturing to indicate that his hands were still full. “Kinda need my hands to untie my shoes. . .”

Mimi stirred a little at the movement and cracked open one lazy, green eye. Upon seeing him, her eyes flew open fully and she scurried to clamber over Bokuto’s forearm and leap the short span onto his shoulders, draping herself around his neck and chirping urgently.

Bokuto winced as one of her back claws dragged a deep scratch across his forearm.

“Oh, Mimi! You little- gremlin– I’m sorry, Bokuto-san, I’m surprised she let you hold her for that long-”

He reached for the bag at the same time Bokuto straightened from nursing his scratched arm and the small movement caused their foreheads to bump painfully. They reeled away from each other and Akaashi felt himself begin to lose his balance– his arms still wrapped firmly within the blanket, holding it tightly around his bare chest– when a strong arm shot out and snaked around his waist, steadying him.

Mimi only flexed her claws into the blanket for traction and continued purring happily on her perch around the back of his neck.

“Hey now, don’t go falling for me just yet, ‘Kaashi.”

His heart didn’t stop at the cheesy pickup line, but he dearly wished that it would; his already tired brain was concocting more and more explicit situations by the second in which he could make an excuse to find himself in Bokuto's arms like this again.

Thankfully, Bokuto released him almost instantly, though not before giving him a gentle push towards the hallway with the hand still resting at the small of his back. He was blushing again, but Akaashi didn’t remark on it, as he was sure his face was in a similar state.

“Um. . . well, I had a little bit of time before my shift started this morning, but-” Bokuto glanced at the watch on his wrist, “I got your note- I guess I shoulda called or texted you first– I wasn’t expecting to wake you up. I was just gonna leave this for you. . . But, now I think I’m gonna jump off that balcony over on the side of the building that faces the highway and just hope a semi gets me instead. . .”

He bowed his head and held out the takeout bag to Akaashi, gesturing for him to take it. Akaashi watched a rivulet of blood stream down his other arm from the fresh scratch.

“Oh, no; no, it’s no imposition, Bokuto-san! I appreciate you bringing me breakfast; that was very thoughtful of you. I’m sorry that Mimi is a nuisance, and that I . . . sort of headbutted you just now. . .” He started to sweep an arm out, beckoning Bokuto inside, before remembering his state of undress.

“Please: at least let me clean that scratch for you? Cat scratches can get infected very easily and she was just outside . . .”

Bokuto was still looking at the floor, biting his lower lip.

“Are you sure, ‘Kaashi? I– I just really like you! I like you a lot, and I feel like I’m screwing this up. . . I don’t know if you know this, but I’m kinda dumb-”

Serving as an EMT meant that he’d seen people in just about any and all varieties of distress; but this was the first time Akaashi could recall seeing a grown man wilt like a sunburnt plant.

“Your note- I thought you liked me too, but if you don’t, you gotta tell me. I promise I’ll leave you alone.”

Akaashi crouched down and shook his cat off his shoulders, stepping back into the entryway to stand almost chest to chest with Bokuto again. The cat tried to follow him, but he nudged her away with his foot and Mimi tittered grumpily down the hall towards the kitchen, voicing her displeasure at being shuffled along.

“Bokuto-san. . . look at me? Please?”

Bokuto swallowed heavily and lifted his head a centimeter or two. Akaashi never realized that his eyelashes were pale gray as well; they made his golden eyes pop even more.

“I don’t think that you’re dumb; and I really like you too,” Akaashi hated that he couldn’t keep his voice from cracking just a little, but he soldiered on in favor of making his point to the dejected firefighter standing in his genkan.

“I just. . . I want to get this right, that’s all. I feel silly asking, because I did say that I’d go out with you, but– I just need to take it slow. If that's okay with you.”

You’re going to get hurt again.

The way Bokuto pursed his lips had no right being so cute, especially when said lips were attached to a jaw that chiseled. “Of course, ‘Kaashi. I’m just happy that you agreed to give me a chance. I can go as slow as you want.”

Despite his coworkers' insistence, Akaashi had refused to wear a wire for something as simple as a first date.

“Komi-san, you know that sounds actually insane, right?”

“C’mon, Akaashi! I mean, Bo’s crazy about you, but you can be kind of a downer sometimes; we’re just trying to help you out here, y’know– get the dark and mysterious Akaashi Keiji laid.”

He threw a packet of gauze at Komi, though it bounced harmlessly off his head.

“Don’t be crass, it’s just dinner at his place.”

“I dunno, even Bokuto isn’t going to be able to power through your rant about stricter penalties for pharmaceutical over-prescription of antibiotics. At least let us help you work on your small talk,” Sarukui piped up from the front seat as they whipped into the parking lot of a small grocery store, where they’d been summoned on the report that an elderly patron was having a heart attack.

Their chatter died down for several minutes as he and Komi unloaded the gurney and dashed inside, only to find the gentleman allegedly in distress seated at the counter arguing with a middle aged man who was smoking while he counted down the till.

“Gramps, just ‘cause they gave you one of those fancy new hearts, doesn't mean that you should be pushing your luck!”

“When they release you from the hospital, it means you’re not sick anymore! I’m not going to be lectured by-”

“Sir, if your Pacemaker is malfunctioning or you’re in pain, you really should be seen by a doctor,” Akaashi interrupted. “And you," he looked pointedly at the cashier, “really shouldn’t be smoking around him.”

“Keishin, you brat, I can’t believe you called the paramedics-” the elder groused.

“Look, if you’re gonna kick it, I’d rather you not do it in the store, that’s all,” the cashier shot back, glaring at Akaashi as he stubbed out his cigarette.

When the medics confirmed that the elder’s vitals were dangerously unstable, they’d had to spend about 10 minutes convincing him to go to the hospital before he agreed to be loaded into the ambulance.

Somehow, this had evolved into Komi calming the older man by regaling him with the woes of Akaashi’s love life.

“Well, I think you should go for it, young man. This firefighter of yours sounds like a real sweetheart. At the very least, you should enjoy yourself while you still have your health-”

If he’d been on driver duty, Akaashi would have wrapped the vehicle around a light pole just to get out of this conversation.

“I hope it’s alright that I brought something,” Akaashi bowed briefly when Bokuto opened his front door before holding out the bottle of wine that he’d spent far too long pondering over at the liquor store, considering how cheap it had been anyway.

“Aww, that’s so sweet! Come in, come in,” Bokuto accepted the gift and waved him over the threshold.

“It smells delicious in here, Bokuto-san; I should’ve expected that you’d secretly be a great chef, I see your handwriting on so many containers in the common room fridge.”

“Oh, yeah,” the firefighter shrugged. “I don’t really cook much, at least not at home; I always have too much left over!”

“Because you end up cooking at the firehouse a lot?” A quick glance around the apartment showed that the layout was the same as his, just flipped.

“Yeah! Can’t really make too much when there’s a whole fire station to feed!” Bokuto’s blinding smile was a fire hazard unto its own, that much Akaashi had already known; but when he talked about his work or his friends– really anything that made him genuinely happy– that joy positively oozed out of his pores, in a way that it was impossible not to become infected by.

Kind of a gross metaphor but. . . whatever. Don’t think about it. Focus on him.

“I’m sure it will be wonderful. I don’t really cook much either. No reason to, when it’s just me and Mimi.”

Ok, well that’s the most pathetic thing you could have said.

He had no desire to be spied upon and he had no idea where his coworkers would even procure an earpiece sophisticated enough to not be seen, but he still felt a distinct regret creep over him at that moment for not taking their offer of dating advice seriously.

“Well, all the more reason to let me take you out next time,” Bokuto said as he moved into the kitchen, a little quieter now, but still beaming and exuding the sort of effortless enthusiasm that Akaashi feared he could become addicted to quite quickly.

Next time? Next time ?!? Oh god, I didn’t even think he’d make it ten minutes, and he’s talking about next time?

“Uh. . . Hello? ‘Kaashi? You still with me?”

He snapped his attention back to find Bokuto looking at him over his shoulder from where he was standing in front of the stove.

“I’m sorry, Bokuto-san, did you- did you ask me something?”

To the naked eye it might seem similar, but this version of Bokuto’s smile was so soft and endearing, it made Akaashi’s everything turn to jelly.

“Yeah- Could you set the table? Plates are right over here,” he gestured to a cabinet over his head.

Bokuto scooted out of the way to allow Akaashi to squeeze past him in the narrow kitchen, but their bodies still brushed together slightly in the cramped space.

“Sorry,” Akaashi muttered. “What about utensils?”

“The, uh, drawer behind you.”

It was a small comfort to him that Bokuto was blushing as much as he was.

The rice cooker chimed merrily, announcing the completion of its task, on the counter right above the drawer that he was retrieving utensils from; he set the plates in his hand down and reached over to hit the release.

“Careful! The valve on that-”

Steam rushed over his skin, scalding a few of his fingers to the knuckle.

“AH!”

On instinct, Akaashi jammed the burned digits into his mouth to suck the pain away, turning to look for the sink–

A clatter sounded from the stove behind him and when he turned, he crashed right into Bokuto.

“Oh no, Akaashi, are you alright? Sorry, I’ve been meaning to replace that rice cooker for ages-”

It took a second to register that, when they’d collided, his free hand had landed lightly on Bokuto’s collarbone.

His heart was thumping so wildly that he was sure the other man could feel it where their bodies met. Akaashi made the mistake of looking up; his burned hand fell from his lips with a small gasp, and Bokuto caught it right away.

Pale golden eyes drilled right through him, and strong, callused fingers cradled his own, more gently than Akaashi would have thought possible.

Breathing properly was the last thing on his mind when Bokuto slowly raised his fingers up to his mouth and brushed the tender, angry skin against his lips.

“Better?” Bokuto asked, voice low and husky. He felt a hand slip over his ribs and settle at his waist– somewhat unnecessary, since his back was pressed up against the edge of the counter and cabinets anyway.

“Eep-” was all Akaashi was able to squeak out. If he moved or breathed, the moment would end.

Eep? EEP?! Akaashi Keiji, if you don’t kiss this man right now, I’m pretty sure you’ll have to turn in your queer card immediately.

“Keiji, can I kiss you? And- I mean, I guess I already did- but I won’t if you don’t like it!- calling you by your given name, that is– you can call me Koutarou, or Bo, either is fine-”

The words tumbled out of him so fast that Akaashi could hardly keep up.

“I know you wanted to take it slow, and it wouldn’t really be that slow, I guess, if I kissed you, like, 5 minutes into our first date, but you’re so cute and-”

Oh my god, put this man out of his misery, already.

_______

Akaashi was smiling so widely that Bokuto wondered if it hurt his face, and a single tear– probably from the steam burn, those really hurt!– clung to his eyelashes in the corner of one deep blue eye.

He’s gonna say no, you’re pushing too much, back off!

Just as he started to pull away, Akaashi closed his eyes and tipped their heads together, long fingers winding into the spikes of his hair.

It was short, far too short, and mostly teeth from how much they were both smiling, giddy with the release of the tension that had been building between them.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” Akaashi breathed.

“I was just going to say that same thing about you, Akaashi. I think I lo–”

“Keiji,” the paramedic corrected, pressing his lips chastely to Bokuto’s for no more than a second and fluttering his long lashes dreamily when they parted.

“Ok, Keiji,” Two can play at this game. “I’m going to kiss you for real this time.”

He didn’t wait, couldn’t wait for a response, slotting his lips to Keiji’s. The way the paramedic melted into their embrace and pressed back, wrapping both arms around his neck, told Bokuto all he needed to know.

Time might have had no meaning to them, as Keiji kissed him sweetly in the quiet of his tiny kitchen; but it meant everything to the salmon still on the stove, and to the smoke alarm, which began shrieking when the burned food had charred so thoroughly that it barely resembled fish anymore.

They sprang apart at the sound, both scrambling to put out the small fire; Bokuto turned on the range fan and smothered the pan with a lid, depositing the whole mess in the sink. Akaashi opened the door to the patio and fanned a dish towel near the smoke detector.

When the alarm finally silenced and the smoke cleared, they collapsed next to each other on the linoleum kitchen floor, panting.

The second that they looked at each other, they both began to laugh, cackling like idiots. He couldn’t get enough of Keiji’s melodic laugh.

“What- what kind of firefighter doesn’t have a fire extinguisher in the house?” Keiji gasped.

“The kind that falls in love with the paramedic that burns their finger and doesn’t immediately run it under cold water or something,” he chortled, throwing an arm around Keiji’s shoulders.

Keiji just hummed and snuggled closer to him.

It was quiet for a few minutes, as they giggled the adrenaline away.

“We’re not telling anyone about this right?”

“Oh, of course not, Bo. I’ll never hear the end of it.”