Granted, perhaps he should have done a little bit more research in middle school when he attempted to solve thisâthis problem.
It would have definitelyâokay, probablyâprevented him from miscalculating it so badly to end up causing the predicament he found himself in now.
Bokuto was an easy-going and cheerful person by nature. His smiles come as easy as the ideas he has, his laughter is as loud as his kindness, his appetite for food rivals his appetite for volleyball, competition, and victory. For all his good points, everything that made people like and admire him, Bokuto was far from perfect. He often forgets to close the drawers after finding what he was looking for, oversleeps regularly, and listens to hideous musicâat least according to his friend Konoha, that uncultured swine. Another striking feature of him was that he never was the type of person to overthink his past or to plan ahead as he prefers living in the here and now.
Oh, if only he could go back in time to put his hands on the shoulders of his younger self in order to squeeze them gently, lean down to look him in the eyes, and tell himâwith a lot of feelingâthat he is a fucking idiot.
But first things first. When Bokuto had been in his third grade of middle school, he had learned about two important (and life-changing) facts. Firstly, he has a crush on his best friend and classmate, Kuroo Tetsurou. Secondly, squirrels bury nuts in the ground to bridge the time of food shortage during the harsh winter months.
His English teacher had come to class one morning with a big smile, colorful posters and black markers in hand, and declared that they would practice giving presentations in front of the whole class. Bokuto remembered how a round of pitiful groans had erupted while Kuroo had pumped his arm in victory, whispering a yes to himself. Even though he couldnât see it from where he had been sitting right behind Kuroo, Bokuto had known exactly how Kurooâs lips must have turned up lopsidedly while he wiggled around on his chair in a weirdly adorable triumph dance as his classmates continued with their pity party. English was one of Kurooâs favorite subjects, so it was to no oneâs surprise that he had been confident in taking up on the new challenge.
Squirrel.
This is what had been written on the tiny, folded piece of paper that Bokutoâs English teacher handed him on that day.
One week later, after the presentations had been given and everybody had filtered out of the classroom to go home, Bokuto had continued smiling in relief and packed back the acorns he had brought along in a small, transparent bag to show the class. Meanwhile, Kuroo had stood in the threshold of the classroom with his arms crossed and his foot repeatedly tapping on the ground to express his impatience nonverbally. Bokutoâs smile had widened into a grin at his best friendâs antics, who had grinned mischievously in return after flicking him on the forehead as revenge for making him wait.
Back then, it had been still easy to ignore how that sort of fleeting closeness made Bokutoâs mouth go dry, his heart beat faster, and his skin itch with longing. For what, he wasnât sure. But his fingers kept twitching to grab a hold of somethingâsomething that would be able to alleviate the heat that crept up across his neck, cheeks, and ears. His body told him to grab a hold of Kurooâs hand, of Kurooâs neck to pull his smiling face closer into his own personal space. Weird, weird weird.
He had kept his hands to himself though, as he was afraid of what that could mean, what that could possibly change about their friendship if he gave in to this bizarre, unknown, frustrating urge that he had unfortunately developed. Slowly, without even truly realizing it before, the time he spent with Kuroo felt a little off, a little different. Not in a bad kind of way. Not in an alarming kind of way. But it was there, the slight shift in their relationship, a new tint suddenly appearing on a well-used and familiar color palette, which seemed to only affect Bokuto.
It had taken him a few weeks, a lot of eavesdropping on the girls talking about the cute boy in the soccer club during break, and an intense session of google research to figure out what was bothering him.
I have a crush on Kuroo. I have a crush on Kuroo. I have a crush on Kuroo.
His attempts to change the intonation of the same sentence again and again and again while lying on his bed on a brisk Saturday afternoon in autumn hadnât helped to get a grip on the situation. Bokuto had blanched at the idea of being too obvious about his feelings, about Kuroo looking right through him with his cunning eyes, which had such a beautiful shade of brown that they appeared to be yellow in the right light.
He had tightened his grip on his covers at the thought of ruining something that has always been a source of steadiness and happiness up to that point in his life, and had exhaled heavily while making a resolve to hide away what could mean the end of his friendship with Kuroo.
He had turned his head to the right, then, feeling anxious and confused and vulnerable despite being alone in his room with nobody to witness his inner turmoil. His eyes had fallen on the acorns, still stored away in the transparent bag and lying on the shelf hanging above his desk. The sight had left him shocked for a few secondâhe had completely forgotten about them. Suddenly, Bokuto had thought of squirrels, their bushy tails, how they jump around funnily. And he had thought of squirrels burying nuts in the ground to save them for later, because the question is not if a cold winter is impending, but when.
Takeru, his older brother, had watched him with a perplexed expression as Bokuto had rushed down the stairs and had slided across the wooden floor for a meter or two due to his attempt to take a sharp right turn. The acorns in hand, he had gone to their garden behind their house with a serious frown and had started digging holes in the ground for every single one of them.
Squirrels are forgetfulâjust like himself. They bury nuts but often end up forgetting where they hid them in the first place. Itâs just like they sayâout of sight, out of mind.
So, Bokuto had figured, if he buried his feelings for Kuroo deep inside his heart and soul, and covers them up with enough new memories, distractions, friendships, and time⌠Perhaps, Bokuto had thought, he would be able to forget about those feelings, just like he would forget about the acorns. He would feel light and at ease again. Kurooâs hand on his wrist would just be like any other hand, Kurooâs lingering gaze during volleyball practice would be like any other gaze, Kurooâs smile would make him feel like any other smile. They would continue being best friends and an amazing team on and off the court.  Yes, yes, yes.
This is what he had wanted. He had wanted what they had before. Before, meaning the time when he hadnât had expectations and hopes about anything and everything that Kuroo did. Before, meaning the time when Bokuto hadnât wanted Kurooâs touch to linger just a little bit longer on his shoulders, his head, his arms, his back. He had wanted it back, the time when Kurooâs friendship had been enough.
And he had been so sure, back then, that it would all work out just fine if only he buried his crush on Kuroo deep enough, far away from his sight, to forget about it as if it had never existed in the first place.
He had worn a big grin tinted with newfound determination after his work was done and all acorns were successfully covered with soil. His hands and knees had been dirty, and his mother has scolded him badly for making a mess, but he felt refreshed and happy on that particular afternoon in October.
Things got easier after that.
Bokuto concealed the slight tug on his heart when Kuroo winked at him playfully by laughing loudly, shook him off in a friendly manner when the weight of Kurooâs arm around Bokutoâs shoulders and his breath tickling his ear got too much to bear, faked to be asleep when Kuroo started dragging his fingers through his hair so gently but purposefully that it made his stomach feel tight and twisted and oh so wonderful.
It got easier to ignore his crush on his best friend when he started to concentrate on treasuring all that Kuroo is willing to give him as a friend. Furthermore, he felt utter relief when he realized that suppressing every tiny romantic urgeâto touch, to stroke, to kiss, to hold, closer, closer, closerâbecame an almost natural part of his daily routine, something he did on autopilot because it has become so familiar.
So, in that manner, Bokutoâs crush on Kuroo stayed a part of his life, of their friendship, at least for him. However, he managed to turn it into something that was no longer overwhelming, confusing, and at least a little less painful.
Unfortunately, this only lasted for a while.
When his mother gasped in delight while looking out on the garden in early spring and ushered Bokuto to show him the acorns that started to sprout after growing roots and anchoring themselves deep inside the groundâgrowing to become stronger with the years, unrelenting, outlasting even the harshest wintersâhe should have recognized it as a sign of what will await him in the future.
Because, despite his good intentions and his hope to preserve a friendship that is more important than a (probably) fleeting crush, he had completely forgotten something essential about squirrels and nuts and digging holes in the ground to hide things away. Itâs not supposed to be the end. The winter and the forgetting, that is. On the contrary, itâs just the start of something new, which will emerge as soon as the first rays of sunshine warm up the earth.
Bokuto and Kuroo grew older, taller, and closer during their high school years. They have always been impossibly close, attached to the hip, always viewed as a duo that appears together and exchanges in-jokes that nobody else understood. It was good that wayâvery, very good.
So when Kuroo sleeps over at Bokutoâs place and they end up tangled in the same bed, surrounded by warmth and tranquility, when Kuroo makes him a cup of tea just like he loves it, slips and accidentally calls him Koutarou or Kou instead of the usual Bo, holds his gaze a little bit longer than other friends would deem comfortable, Bokuto never complains or second-guesses what they are.
Instead, he willed himself to be thankful for having a friend like Kuroo in his life. He retracted his treacherous hand whenever it unconsciously reached out to touch the small hair on Kurooâs neck when they lazed around on the couch, Kuroo leaning on him. He bit his tongue when he felt jealousy well up at watching Kuroo talking to some girl, and tried to hide his relieved sigh when Kuroo waved his hand dismissively at her as soon as he registered Bokutoâs presence. He tried to stop himself from blushing when he realized that the colorful flower crown he made for Kuroo suited him like a halo suited an angel. He looked the other way as soon as he realized that he had been staring at Kurooâs arms, Kurooâs thighs, Kurooâs back, Kurooâs everything again.
This is enough, he told himself. This is more than enough.
Kuroo, Bokuto has learned over the years, was willing to give and give and give. And Bokuto took it all. As much as he can. Hoarded whatever wonderful memories he makes with his best friend and buried all of them inside of his heart that has never learned to calm down, not even after three year. He buried them all deep inside of himself, kept them safe there, in order to look back at them in case maybe, possibly, their friendship ended someday and there would be nothing left in his life to keep him so incredibly warm.
Sometimes he felt selfish, questioned himself whether heâs exploiting Kuroo.
But he couldnât help himself. He simply couldnât. So he absorbed every beautiful smile, every heart-warming touch, every new nickname, every whisper exchanged in dark bedrooms, every time they bridge a tiny bit of the already small distance that is left between them. He absorbed it all like the acorns he planted in his garden, which have grown into small oak trees over the years and were absorbing water and nutrients from the ground through their roots. Roots that have grown stronger, spread wider and deeper, anchored further.
It didnât occur to him that what he has been doing for years had the contrary effect of what he originally aimed for until the end of their third year in high school drew uncomfortably close.
Bokuto couldnât really remember how he felt when he graduated middle school. Had he been that frightened of a new beginning like he was now?
No, he concluded. I had Kuroo.
He had known that Kuroo would go to the same high school as him back then. He had known that he would continue feeling warm and comfortable with Kuroo by his side like a sprout under the cozy light of the sun. There was nothing to be afraid of when he had been sure that the truly important things in his life wouldnât be changing anytime soon.
Graduating high school was horrible, to say the least.
He and Kuroo hadnât exactly talked about their future. The paths they wanted to take in order to become real adults with real responsibilities stayed vague at best, because it hurt to talk about it. Probably Kuroo was also hurtingâhe never attempted to bring it up in one of their hundreds, no, thousands conversations himself. Imagining Kuroo leaving him, going far away where he couldnât reach, finding new friends to bath them in his sunlight, finding someone to hold closer than he ever hold Bokuto⌠Everything about it was painful.
When he found himself crying in a lonesome staircase of his high school building after the official graduation ceremony, he realized that he loves Kuroo. He loves his nerdy, sometimes idiotic, wonderful best friend.
Instead of tearing out the romantic feelings he had for Kuroo after having the very first inkling of their existence, he nourished and cherished them with fondness and care so they could grow into something bigger, more intense, more stable. They grew until they were a part of him, and then they grew even more, overtaking his thoughts, plans, and hopes for the future. A future he has been silently imagining and unconsciously looking forward to, despite his credo to enjoy the present without worrying about what lies ahead of him.
Graduation felt like being uprooted from the place he turned into his home. It felt like someone trying to rip out his feelings that were so deeply rooted inside of him that they wouldnât budge, couldnât be removed without tearing out the footing as well. And Kuroo was the warm rays of sunlight, leaving him to survive on his own during a winter that might not end in three months, or in one year or five. Maybe never.
So he cried until he felt a hand on his shoulder, startling him that he almost jumped up with a shout if it werenât for Kurooâs face appearing in his field of vision and leaving him swallowing helplessly around a lump in his throat instead. Kuroo smiled at him while returning Bokutoâs stare with the type of fond expression that usually made him want to turn away to hide the red color creeping up his cheeks. He was too sad to turn away from whatever Kuroo was trying to communicate through his look alone, which Kuroo seemed to notice by the way his eyebrows lifted slightly and his mouth opened a bit in disbelief.
The entire situation was heart-wrenching and made Bokuto feel awkward about his emotional outburst, so he covered it up by chuckling nervously and wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his blazer. He lowered his gaze to his shoes.
âSorry. Had something in my eyes,â he lied.
Kurooâs grip shifted to wrap his arm around his shoulder, squeezing him in a reassuring manner and rubbing his hand over his arm up and down, up and down. It was soothing, and Bokuto was thankful that Kuroo knew not to point out his obvious lie now that everything about them felt fragile and uncertain all of the suddenâso much different from the unwavering stability they both were accustomed to.
âIs this about us losing at nationals again, crybaby?â Kuroo huffed with unconcealed amusement resonating in his voice.
âYouâIâand what if it is?â Bokuto took the chance to direct the conversation away from what truly caused his outburst and started pouting like a petulant child. Their loss at nationals had hurt a lot, but the pain has been ebbing away ever since.
âI already told you, remember? When we were at my place after national, and you were clinging to me like a koala? Thereâs no reason to mope. Weâll just be better in university. Weâll continue being The Dynamic Duo.â
Kuroo has always been the one with steadfast confidence and a concrete plan for the future. After Bokuto registered the words, he turned his head to his left to meet Kurooâs eyes, his eyebrows drifting together to form a frown. He couldnât remember Kuroo mentioning that sort of thing. The only thing he remembered from that night was the pain from losing after training so hard, the softness of Kurooâs pillow under his head, and the comfort he radiated while cooing at him. Perhaps he should have taken the time to actually listen instead of closing his eyes and letting himself being lulled to sleep.
âYeah?â He sniffed weakly, hopefully. âWe?â
Kuroo grinned, which didnât look mischievous or cunning but elated, certain, at ease.
âOf course, you doofus. Did you think Iâd let you go there alone?â
Kuroo laughed at Bokutoâs expression twisting in a mixture of confusion, frustration, happiness, and disbelief all at once. He seemed so happy then, without a care in the world, like everything in his life was where it belonged.
âIâwe didnâtâI wasnât sureâyouâ,â Bokuto tried to reason but couldnât find the correct words to describe what he was feeling while tears welled up in his eyes until they spilled onto his cheeks and dripped down to his chin.
Kuroo squeezed him tighter, closer.
Yes, thatâs nice. Thatâs more than nice.
He put more reassurance in his grin and something else that Bokuto hadnât recognized before.
There was a slight shift again. So tiny, but oh so meaningful.
However, this time it felt different than the one he experienced three years ago in middle school. It didnât feel like being dislocated from his place on Kurooâs side, even if it was such a minimal change that he was able to ignore it most of the time. It felt like finding that place again, as if theyâre finally on the same page after all this time of silent worry, faked coughs to cover up nervousness and too bright smiles, and grabbing onto his own sleeves in replacement of Kurooâs hands.
Bokuto waited for something more, studied Kurooâs expression for something, something essential. He found it the slow blinkâa kitty kissâthat Kuroo was giving him.
âI love you!â Bokuto blurted out loudly into the silence, not being able to stop what has been threatening to spill out of his mouth and out of his heart for so long that all he could feel was sweet relief.
Kurooâs smile turned into something unbelievingly sweet and doting, and his eyes flickered over Bokutoâs features with those cat-like eyes of him that looked perfectly yellow thanks to the light coming from the big window across from the stairs. His hand moved from the place on Bokutoâs shoulder to his cheek to caress it tenderly with his thumb, simultaneously moving forward and into his personal space like he had often done in the past.
âTook you long enough,â Kuroo whispered into the small space between them so as to not disturb the moment.
Before Bokuto could find the will and the words to start an argument about how he loved him longer, realized it sooner, and wanted him nearer, Kurooâs lips got closer, closer, closer.
When their lips met in a gentle touch, Bokuto felt like they wereâfinallyâjust about close enough.
âYou know, I can still feel you... When I concentrate hard enough on remembering how you felt in my arms, itâs like you never left me...â Kuroo whispered sorrowfully into the darkness that was surrounding him.
Through the speaker, he heard Bokuto laughing good-heartedly.
âTetsu, you saw me six minutes ago!â Bokuto wheezed, trying to calm down while walking back home after dropping off Kuroo in front of his house.
Kuroo took a second to appreciate the fact that his adorable boyfriend knew the way from Kurooâs house to his own so well that he can tell how long heâs been walking by the landmarks on the way.
âSix minutes, six weeks, six years! My aching heart has no concept of time, Kou!â Kuroo whined into his phone, trying to sound as exasperated as possible despite the smile which was fighting its way on his face.
He started to feel a bit weird, standing around in the dark while his parents were probably already asleep, and thus turned on the lights in the hallway. While listening to Bokutoâs laugh turning into a soft, warm chuckle, he moved to take off his shoes and shrug off his jacket.
Being encased by Bokutoâs strong arms was the best feeling in the world.
When they first started dating, Kuroo had tried to be reasonable about how much he adored to be hugged and cuddled and pampered by Bokuto. But he loved it. Loved it so much that he melted into a puddle of goo whenever he felt a surprisingly soft whisper tickling his neck, or ears, or shoulders, and a familiar warmth radiating off a body standing teasingly close to himâalmost close enough to be gratifying. However, there had always been a tiny second of doubt in Kuroo that told him not to lean into it immediately and wholeheartedly. Perhaps it might come off as too needy, too clingy, too much.
The desire was there, however, and it continued to grow with time.
Bokuto looked perfectly huggable in everything, is what Kuroo had noticed before they even got together.
One time, he had worn a white pullover as plushy as a polar bear cub. It had looked extremely cuddly and had practically begged Kuroo to jump into Bokutoâs arms and rub his cheeks against everything hidden by the white cloth to feel where his pecks end and his abs start, how hard his bicep feels when he tenses it, how strong his heart is beating, how his lungs are expanding with every breath he takes.
Another time, he had worn a red shirtâhe had known exactly that it would make Kurooâs knees go weakâwhich had been made from thin material and had fitted his form a little too well. It had taken all of Kurooâs willpower so as to not accuse Bokuto of blatant indecency in front of their friends. That also meant that there had been no spare willpower left in Kurooâs body to hold him back from daydreaming a bit about biting, and kissing, and licking everything that Bokuto had been parading around in that damn shirt for everyone to see. At the end of that day, he had seriously whimpered when Bokuto had tightened those godly arms around his waist as a goodbyeâeveryone who had been within earshot that day still teased him about it now and then.
On another occasion, Bokuto had worn a thick jacket over a sweatshirt, which was a rare sight considering that he was almost never cold, unlike Kuroo, who was a fierce advocate of the onion look. When Bokuto had noticed that he was shivering during their wait at the train station, Kuroo had suddenly found himself encased in a second jacket, two arms, and the warmest torso. In that moment, Kuroo had realized that heâs a goner, that nothing about this wonderful moment could get any better. But, oh, then Bokuto had chuckled nervously, rubbing comforting circles on Kurooâs back andâoh godâtrying to subtly nuzzle his cheek. Kuroo swears that he had heard wedding bells ringing somewhere in the distance.
It took a few months into their relationship for him to understand that Bokuto was a man who always, without doubt, delivers and who loves affectionate gestures and lots of physical contact, no matter of what kind. The doubts about whether Bokuto did engage in intense cuddling sessions on his own free will or not slowly ebbed away with every time he initiated a comforting hug or a tender kiss. Ever since those doubts completely disappeared from Kurooâs mind, it has become almost frighteningly easy for him to forget about his pride whenever he saw a chance to get himself an armful of beefy, nice-smelling, tenderly cooing Bokuto.
âWellâI just reached the Octopus Oak Treeâso, ya knowâif I started walking back to your house nowâI mean, like, hypothetically speakingâI would be there in seven minutes.â Bokutoâs voice filtered through the speaker in a clipped way. It took a second for Kuroo to realize that it was not the phoneâs doing but Bokuto trying to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice as much as possible.
Kuroo couldnât stop the corners of his mouth lifting to form a giddy smile, however, he managed to bite down on his clenched fist just in time to stop himself from squealing happily and revealing how much he wanted exactly that in such an embarrassing manner. He nibbled on his lower lip, holding the clenched fist close to it chin while making his way back to the door.
âYeah, thatâthat sounds good. If Iâhypotheticallyâwalked towards you, we would meet in just three point five minutes, at Bananaâs Garden.â
âI think you mean the Old Witch House? With the scary granny, who has a Chihuahua called Banana?â
Kuroo gasped in indignation, shoes already back on his feet, and Bokuto started laughing at successfully turning the tables on his boyfriend.
âWhatever! See you in three point five, you walnut!â
Kuroo hanged up, shook his head with a chuckle, and the anticipation of receiving another or maybe five more magical hugs from Bokuto made his heartbeat flutter and his cheeks burn pleasantly. He closed the front door behind him silently after deciding against putting his jacket back on. After all, there will be something much better to keep him warm where he was heading to.
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