akaashi keiji, will you be my baby daddy?
some akaashi fluff! shoutout to @katandsquad for making me finish something for once lol. ilysm pal <3
word count: 1.8k
“Akaashi Keiji," you start, turning your head from the resting place on your folded arms to face the former pretty setter of Fukurodani. "Will you be my baby daddy?"
With that sort of question, you expected at least some sort of response, whether it be shock or surprise, or even a vehement no.
But Keiji was always cool and collected.
(Even when you didn't want him to be.)
"Hm," he hums thoughtfully, still looking at his book. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, I've always wanted kids," you say. "You know this. But we're getting old, Keiji! And all men out there suck. I'm tired of waiting for this mythical 'perfect order of doing things'. I want a baby. Now."
Your words hang in the air of Keiji's bachelor apartment. "Okay, not now now," you ramble, running over your words in your head. "But sooner rather than later."
"With me?" He asks, and you know you have his attention now that he's closed his paperback (its cover curled outwards from the way Keiji folds it whilst reading).
"Well, I guess we should talk about that," you sigh. You push yourself up from the horizontal resting position you often took on his carpet. "You can be as involved as you want," you start, looking up at him brightly. "Or not," you say after a moment's consideration. "Whatever you'd want. We'll work it out," You shake your head and flash him a smile. "No pressure."
Then your face turns serious and you look at him resolutely. "I'd like for you to donate your sperm to me." You finally say, looking at him very seriously. There you said it. It's out there.
There's a beat. Then another. Keiji stays seated on the couch, his eyes locked onto yours. He doesn't seem like he's going to be giving you an answer anytime soon.
"Please?" You pout. Your serious facade never really lasts and you notice Keiji's face soften. "Please please please?" You whine, reaching for his hand on the couch. His face seems to release the tension you didn't really notice had built up in his eyes and jaw.
"Y/N," he flashes you a smirk with what seems like understanding. “Just because your best friend is pregnant, it does not mean that there's any reason for you to rush into anything.”
You bristle. “First off, you are my best friend,” you grumble. “And second, no, it has nothing to do with that!”
How typical of him to think you haven't given this a lot of thought. Like it hasn't crossed your mind multiple times during your youth. Like the fantasy of you two being together, husband and wife, hadn't been on your mind in your adolescence. Like you haven't been thinking about this particular option seriously for at least a year.
You've been friends with Keiji for more than ten years. You remember when you were new friends and would shamelessly flirt with the school's volleyball setter every chance you got. You remember all the openings you left him. And you remember all his friendly rebuffs. You settled into a comfortable friendship after it became increasingly obvious to you that you were his buddy. Not a girlfriend. Not a potential girlfriend. And that was okay, you assured yourself on multiple occasions. Friends like Akaashi Keiji were hard to come by. You were more than happy to have him in your life any way he felt comfortable with. Any way you could.
“Keiji, you're kind and smart and handsome and everything I'd like to see in my baby,” you tell him. “Heck, your mom says you were an angel even as a baby! I'd love that! But of course I'd love my baby no matter what,” you flippantly amend. “Obviously.”
“They would be half you after all,” he says. He takes off his glasses and sets them atop his book, flattening its cover for the time being. His hand reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear. "An angel is no guarantee."
Your brain short-circuits.
What?
Oh my god. Here he was. Akaashi Keiji playing the game What would our baby be like? with you. Was this a dream conjured up from all those years of teenage fantasies? Are you dead?
“Wait, are you saying YES?”
“No,” and with his words you deflate. “I was speaking in hypotheticals. Y/N,” he continues. “That is a big ask. There is a lot to think about. A baby would change your whole life.”
“This isn't some sort of whim, Keiji.” Your eyes narrow. You let go of his hand and stand up. “I know what a baby entails. And I'm not asking you to play house with me,” you huff. “I already told you, you don't have to be involved if you don't want to.”
Even with you standing, you're only a few inches taller than Keiji seated on the couch.
“Of course I’d be involved. I’d like to think you know me better than that,” he sighs. He lifts himself from the sofa.
“It’s not a yes,” he says with what seems like deliberate slowness. He often uses this tone with you when you run off with your thoughts. More than once you have gotten caught up in the heat of your words and the moment. You know by now he’s trying to give you time to calm down. You appreciate the gesture. It’s a sign of his thoughtfulness and all that you’ve learned about each other over the past decade.
He reaches a hand behind his head, using it as support as he looks at his ceiling. “It’s also not a no.”
Wow. Wowowow. Wow.
"So you asked me that question and you didn't expect to discuss it?" Keiji teases. It seems like you exclaimed your internal monologue aloud.
The answer is no. You’ve never allowed yourself to think this far into the conversation, truth be told. In your thousands of fantasies of maybe perhaps one day bringing it up in actual conversation, your mind would conjure up snippets of potential futures post-Keiji's-yes-or-no.
Of you and Keiji co-parenting, alternating between homes, spending some holidays together, Keiji visiting on weekends. Of Keiji saying that a child wouldn't fit in his plans right now, but just because he was a stand-up guy and fabulous friend he'd do this favour to you like a surrogate, and bam!boom!, his contribution would be done after handing you (or whatever medical professional) a cup of bodily fluids. Of Keiji being completely weirded out by the request, offering you a hard no and thereby potentially ruining your friendship forever. Of you going to the sperm bank alone, perusing impersonal profiles of men you don't know and whose character was defined by a two sentence profile bio.
But never a discussion. A real back and forth discussion meant to convince him to say yes.
You tell Keiji as much.
A dark look crosses his features as you mention the possibility of you going to the sperm bank. He heaves a sigh and takes your hand to lead you to follow him in sitting on the couch. He faces you as you make yourself comfortable against the armrest of the loveseat.
“I see,” he says. “You're really ready for this, aren't you? With or without me?"
“Obviously I'd prefer it with you,” you scoff. “Which is why I'm asking you first. You're my number one. The best option I could possibly think of. I want you.”
You notice his sharp inhale affect his whole being.
“I see,” he comments again as he mirrors your position, folding his legs and leaning on the opposite armrest. “Well, like I said. There's a lot to discuss.”
You nod eagerly. "Of course."
The two of you discuss your plans, and Keiji does his best to mask his surprise at the fact that you've thought everything out quite thoroughly, even by his standards. He has to do this because you've mockingly threatened him to stop acting so surprised at my abilities to plan for the future. He's impressed at your quick problem solving to even his most obscure what-if scenarios, attributing it to your upbeat attitude towards it all. He admits your enthusiasm is contagious.
He also does that thing. That thing where he asks very reasonable and realistic questions. Summarizing what you're saying and prodding you when he feels like there are points he requires more input from you on. The intellectual sort of detachment he usually wears makes its appearance at different points of the conversation, which unnerves you, to say the least. But at many other times he continues to play what is now your favourite game with you as you discuss the environment you'd like to raise your child in, complete with light teasing, knowing smirks and... is he flirting? Sometimes? It seems like he is. You can't be sure, but the dynamic between you is definitely different than usual. And it's not because you just dropped a life-changing topic bomb in his living room on what would have been a very normal Saturday afternoon.
And you continue to talk a lot. Like a lot a lot. You discuss how it would work out together. As a makeshift nuclear family in one household. Keiji suggested it would definitely be better to live together in the early months, for bonding and support with an infant's busy schedule, and that it would ultimately be in the best interest of everyone to be, well, together. Keiji didn't want to miss a thing. In close proximity you could schedule and communicate as clearly as possible. That wouldn't be a problem. You think of your senior year group project with Keiji that you both deemed the Goliath of a lifetime. If you could get through that together, you could get through anything. It taught both of you valuable lessons in time management and organization, and allowed you to foster shared communication skills with each other that went beyond this plane of existence.
You studiously don't bring up the topic of bringing dates to said home. Half out of fear and half because it could ruin the blissful moment you two were currently sharing. You are grown and mature. You could deal with this one sided love as long as Keiji remained the faithful friend you know him to be. At the very least, you trusted him wholeheartedly to be discreet with whomever he brought into the child's life. Everything he was saying worked well for you. You've loved him this long. If you would be raising your child as friends, so be it. If Keiji never found love and eventually settled himself to fall in love with you, it would only be a bonus. (You weren't banking on that though. Maybe we should make a pact that by the time we're 60 and still single we should just go ahead and make it official for fun at the very least. Hm, what style of wedding dress looks good on sixty year-olds?)
You feel yourself getting caught up in the excitement and giddiness one only feels as their dreams come true. You don't bring yourself to stop.
