Archive of Our Own ^beta

Akaashi thumbed through the packets in his lap, using the street lights they passed in order to try and study them to the best of his ability. His mentor, Sawamura, glanced over at him from the driver’s side and gave him a smile.

“It’s a lot to remember. It gets easier with time and experience.” Akaashi hummed in acknowledgement as he raised a pen to mark one of the lines of codes on the sheets. All the marks he made and that were printed on the papers looked overwhelming for some, but he enjoyed having something to focus on as exhaustion began to creep into his system. The end of his work day was approaching, but he’d then need to squeeze in a shower, a microwaved dinner, and enough sleep to function well for class in the morning. He rubbed the growing bags under his eyes as the radio in the car crackled.

They both listened intently to the message and Sawamura popped his knuckles upon stopping at a red light. “That sounds like a good place to end on, right? Simple noise complaint: doesn’t get much easier than that. Last time I responded to one was because some poor kid dropped a pot of mac and cheese on a tile floor...I’ll drop you off at the station after this. You have class at 9, right?”

“Yes, thank you,” Akaashi replied. He shifted his papers into a neat pile and then leaned back to rest the back of his head against the headrest. Sawamura drove down a residential road, eyes scanning the streets for any signs of trouble. When they pulled up to the house, Sawamura frowned. It was a simple, cute little house. It was yellow with white trim and a tidy garden. Not a single light was on. Akaashi would have assumed that they were given the wrong address if not for the fact that all the houses on the street had their lights off. Did someone call because they got woken up, then went back to sleep? Was there even a noise to complain about? The dispatcher didn’t give them the wrong street entirely, that’d be absurd.

Sawamura unbuckled and climbed out of the squad car. He glanced toward the house and shook his head before ducking down to meet Akaashi’s eyes. He smiled. “Wanna join me? The more experience you have, the easier time you’ll have when you are out there on your own.”

Akaashi stepped out of the car. He set his papers down on his seat, then followed Sawamura up the rest of the driveway and to the front door. Sawamura huffed upon not seeing any doorbell. He raised his fist and casted his apprentice a look, “These things are always hard to find.”

Sawamura hit the door hard with his fist, but as he drew back to hit it once more, the front door pushed open. Akaashi watched his mentor’s hand fly down to his belt, a hand settling on his gun as the door flung open to reveal a dark house. Upon not noticing anyone lurking near the door, Sawamura crept closer, ducking his head in to look inside the house. Akaashi took a step back from the door, eyes roaming to the windows of the house in hopes of catching a glimpse of something lurking within.

“Hello? Police,” Sawamura called. His hand found the light switch within the entryway of the house and light flooded into the foyer and the living room beside it. Akaashi crossed his arms over his chest with uncertainty as he watched Sawamura look around the entryway, observing the exposed rooms before he stopped in his tracks. Akaashi’s curiosity got the better of him as he peered in to check the area behind the front door. He only got a glimpse of the scene before Sawamura pushed him back through the door.

“Call for backup. Ask for an ambulance.”

Akaashi stumbled back outside onto the front step, the visions of red and tan playing behind his head. Sawamura was inside and he moved in to look at the scene, but not a single other noise was heard. They didn’t need an ambulance. From what Akaashi saw, there was no noticeable beginning or end to the abstract arrangement that was pinned to the wall like a frog dissection project from middle school, only distorted to a place where it was almost inhuman. His fingers twitched. He thought he saw an arm where it shouldn’t have been, but he needed a better look in order to be sure. Even if he didn’t see the finer details of the body, his heart skipped a beat upon seeing the gruesome sight and a symbol on the wall beside it.

He knew that symbol. It was the same one he saw every night in his dreams after falling asleep beside mountains of his work.

He walked back to the patrol car, arms dangling at his sides as he approached. He heard a rustle in a set of bushes between the two yards, the victim’s and their slumbering neighbor. Stopping clear in his tracks, Akaashi lulled his head to the side to eye the bushes, which remained stock-still under his watchful gaze. It was likely a stray cat, but Akaashi couldn’t help but keep his eye on the bushes as he opened up his side of the car. He leaned down and grabbed his sheets blindly, pulling them to his chest.

The bushes stayed still.

Akaashi didn’t bother to reach for the radio, instead using the street lights nearby to look at his marked sheets. “Mm… Now what was that code again to use for backup? I need to also get an ambulance too, huh…”

He shuffled through the same four sheets, eyes occasionally flickering up to see if anything moved. Eventually, with a soft sigh, he spread his hands apart and allowed the slips to fall through his hands. “Oops.”

It was then when a dark figure stood up from within the bushes, not bothering to conceal itself any more. Akaashi’s breath caught in his throat, heartbeat accelerating as the figure stared him down. It was apparent the person was bulky and large, even from the several yards between them. He felt his back graze the patrol car and he gasped at the slick, cool feeling as if he had been forced up against it unexpectedly.

He heard Sawamura calling to him from inside the house, but it didn’t get past the sounds of his own panting breaths as the figure eventually bowed its head a centimeter, then stalked through the bushes and out onto the street. Akaashi eyed the outfit it wore: a simple black hoodie and black pants. He watched as the suspect disappeared down the road, and his senses finally came back. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he scrambled to grab his sheets from the pavement as Sawamura marched outside.

“Akaashi-kun, did you call in? Get back over here until they arrive,” He hissed, his gun in one hand as he raced over to the car. “The body isn’t fresh, but it’s dangerous to be out here for long without a gun. Why didn’t you answer me?”

“I got startled and dropped the sheets,” Akaashi apologized, flicking to the right page he needed. “I didn’t want to upset you by asking for it- I should know it by now- I-”

“You are shaken up,” Sawamura offered with a frown. He reached in the car and sent out the message, one that contained different codes than what he originally asked to be called in. He didn’t ask for an ambulance. When he finished, he gestured to the car. “Sit tight. I’ll have someone take you back when others arrive.”

Akaashi reluctantly climbed into the passenger side and watched as Sawamura went back to the front door. He leaned back into his seat, releasing a long breath before a frown settled on his lips.

When backup arrived, officer Sakusa took him to his car to drive him to the station. People were already beginning to tape up the scene as they drove off down the road. He knew officer Sakusa, not as well as some of the other policemen, but enough to know he was a quiet, stoic man who held no room for funny business. He was the first one to be selected to do interrogations, though he was always impatient with the first stage: building rapport. That was evident to Akaashi when he muttered, “Sawamura said you saw it. Do we need to get someone to talk with you about it before you go home?”

“I’ll be fine.” Akaashi folded his hands in his lap. “It’s been two and a half years. I’ll be fine.”

“You are going to be speaking to someone when we reach the station.” Akaashi only nodded in response as Sakusa leaned back in his seat, knuckles white against the steering wheel as he sat in thought. When they reached the station, Sakusa drove off after dumping Akaashi off at the front door where another familiar face was waiting, holding up two coffees with a grin.

“Good morning, Akaashi-kun,” Atsumu greeted. Akaashi groaned when he eyed the clock in the station which read 12:49. He reluctantly took a sip of his coffee and followed Atsumu to his office beside the holding cells, each of which was empty for once. “Aren’t you riddled with bad luck, huh? You haven’t been under us that long yet you just keep walking into the worst incidents, like that car accident two weeks ago.”

Akaashi winced involuntarily upon remembering pulling up to the scene and seeing a decapitated head lying in a ditch several yards away from the cars. There were no survivors. The only hope he had was that they had a quick death. It was ruled an incident of texting while driving, and Akaashi stayed beside Sawamura as clean-up occurred.

“At this rate I’m scared we are going to lose you before you are officially sworn,” Atsumu whistled as he settled in his chair. Akaashi took a seat across from him, cradling his warm cup in his hands. “You’d be a good addition. You’re smart. However, with your situation, it’s really hard to make sure you stay safe and have the right head on, especially when you cross a scene like that.”

Akaashi bowed his head to look down at the floor. Atsumu drummed his hand against the wooden desk, then eased back and frowned at the ceiling. Akaashi prepared himself for what was going to happen next. Atsumu reached across the table and set a hand on top of one of Akaashi’s, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Akaashi-kun, do you still have some lingering guilt over Matsui’s death?”

Akaashi closed his eyes tight. He took a few moments to breathe, and when he was sure he looked collected enough, he raised his head to meet the officer’s eyes. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish I had done something differently. I should have been on time, I should have checked in on him, but I know I can’t change what happened. What I can do is stop the person who did it. That’s why I am here.”

“And it’s a noble reason to join the force,” Atsumu insisted with a little frown playing on his lips, “but it’s also the reason we can’t allow you on that case, even when you become sworn. I got a call from Sawamura while you were on the way over and he said you saw some things there.”

“The signature?” Akaashi offered. Atsumu nodded, pulling his hand away.

“He wanted to make sure you are feeling okay. You seem alright, but I want you to call me if you need someone to talk to, okay?” Atsumu handed him a card. Akaashi was certain he had fifteen of these already. “I can schedule you an appointment if you want to talk to someone else. We’d also like to cancel next week’s shifts so you can have some time to yourself and school.”

Typical, Akaashi thought as he pocketed the card. With a few exchanges of comforting words and offers for assistance, Akaashi was allowed to get changed out of his uniform and walk home. It was a short fifteen minute walk down different roads and eventually up three flights of rickety stairs. He unlocked his apartment door and flicked on the lights. For a brief moment, he saw red and tan against his foyer wall, but it disappeared once he blinked. He pulled off his shoes and tucked them by the door.

He locked his door and shrugged off his hoodie. He entered his kitchen and started up a cup of microwavable noodles, leaving it to heat up while he strolled into his living room where his laptop laid amongst piles of homework and documents. He plopped down and flicked his computer on. As expected, there was no news yet about the dead body. Running a hand down his face, he closed his laptop and glared down at the stacks of paper beside him.

He ran a hand through the documents, eventually stopping at one sticking out, a paper with a clear image on it. He tried to tug it out completely, but paused when his alarm went off for the noodles.

He ate while sitting on the kitchen counter, eying his work before retiring for the night.

Akaashi woke with a jolt, his hand flying to his neck as gasps left his throat. His other hand flew to his nightstand, fumbling around wildly until the lights flickered on and illuminated the room, revealing an empty bedroom. Gulping, he snatched his phone and turned on the camera, clicking it to face him.

His neck was plain, only flushed from where his own hand clutched it moments previously. Curling his hand around the sheets, he threw his phone on the blankets with a ragged, tired sigh. The numbers 6:34 glared up at him.

Slowly climbing out of bed, Akaashi grabbed his robe from the ground and pulled it on. He knotted the waist as he looked around the room and in his tiny closet. Quietly, he made his way through his apartment. He pulled back the shower curtain, checked in the food pantry and under the kitchen table cloth, but he was once again alone in his apartment. The feeling of disappointment hit his gut, but he didn’t allow it to linger as he headed to the bathroom to wash up.

By now the news teams were reporting the crime. Akaashi listened to them intently as he got ready for the day. He brushed and flossed as they went over the details of the victim’s life. He gargled mouthwash as they explained that the victim was found after a noise complaint, something they had the caller, a neighbor, talk about. He prepared and ate toast as one reporter stated, “So far there is no report on how the victim died, but it is believed that this is a part of the string of murders that took place-”

Akaashi huffed a laugh as he chewed his toast. He could vividly see the carnage behind his eyes, the blood, the organs, the rips and tears. Did it matter what the final blow to the victim was? If he focused hard, he could see the intestines of the victim wrapped around them like a garland strand on a Christmas tree, one end wrapped around their neck like a de-feathered boa. It’s ribs were cracked and jolting in the opposite direction. He remembered how white the bone looked with the dried blood marring it. A shiver ran up his spine and he bit his lip.

His phone rang across the room. He ignored it, and in moments a friend’s voice played out through his voicemail. “Ugh, are you sleeping? It’s like… Oh, wait, it is pretty early. Whatever, I’m picking up Kenma right now. Get ready later. Double date, bay-beeeee!”

Akaashi scowled and snatched his phone off the counter. He flicked it on and selected Kuroo’s contact before huffing out, “I’m not doing another blind date. Takeru was awful.”

“Hear me out, Ji,” Kuroo cooed, “I thought you two would get along because you both are like, crazy smart. I didn’t know he’d be so boring. This time though you will adore the guy- He just started working at the gym I go to and he’s honestly so cool!”

“It sounds like you have a crush,” Akaashi grumbled as he cleaned up. He dragged his feet to his closet and began to tug out clothes for class.

“He’s not my type. Besides, I have eyes only for Ken- KENMA!” Akaashi winced and he pulled the phone away. When Kuroo collected himself, he sighed into the receiver. “He almost stepped out into traffic because of Mario or something. Anyways, the guy is a total stud, like a massive beefcake, with huge badonkers, like gigantic-”

“Kuroo-san, are you saying this out loud? Aren’t you at the train station?”

“I call it like I see it.” Akaashi rolled his eyes as he began to pull on his sweater.

“And this supposed mountain of eye candy agreed to a blind date?”

“He’s new to the area, so I’m sure he wants to test the waters and see who’s out there. I may have even shown him a picture of you. He said you were cute.”

“... Was it the one from the Christmas party?”

“....”

“Dick.” Akaashi hung up the phone and slipped it into his back pocket. He gathered his school supplies in silence, eying the piles of papers by his laptop. If he truly had no part time work for the station, he could take time to update his information, organize it, and then later on add the latest updates. He sent the stack a smile before leaving out the front door.

“Aw man, Keiji if I knew you were at that scene I would have canceled the date,” Kuroo groaned into his beer. Akaashi received his from a waitress, who then walked toward a crowded table of rowdy adults watching the game on the TV above the bar. “Is it true what they were saying? That the guy who did those murders in Os-”

Kenma slapped his arm harshly, not sparing a single glance up from his video game as Kuroo cried in surprise. Akaashi sent him a thankful look. He sipped his drink, shrugging as he lied through his teeth. “It’s not confirmed, so that’s where I’ll leave that. It’s not appropriate to theorize. What is appropriate is buying me a free drink because I’ve been stood up.”

“It’s been eight minutes,” Kuroo huffed, though he was searching around the bar with his eyes, a clear frown on his face. Akaashi was certain he was going to launch into a speech about how he was going to make the gymrat regret it, but his eyes shot open wide before he could. Nudging Akaashi with his foot under the table, Kuroo sent him a smirk, “Thank me later.”

Akaashi couldn’t resist turning in his seat to catch a glimpse of the man he was being set up with. Upon meeting eyes with the man snaking through the crowd, waving to Kuroo and the group, Akaashi felt an approving hum echo in his throat. Kuroo wasn’t lying; the man was attractive to say the least. He was tall, possibly taller than Akaashi, and was a lump of bulking muscle with a large, dazzling smile. His hair was frosted which was a little too late-90’s for him, but the man pulled off the look well. Then there were his eyes, like two yellow lanterns flicking in the night, or- well- the darkness of the bar.

“Bokuto! You’re late!”

“Sorry, sorry!” The man laughed. He didn’t hesitate to slip into the booth beside Akaashi, his leg pressed right against Akaashi as he settled in. He radiated warmth. Akaashi could feel that heat on his cheeks as he took another slow drink of his beer. “I got a bit lost along the way and I-”

Akaashi blinked upon hearing the man suddenly stop mid-sentence. He glanced up, lowering his drink to see the man staring down at him with wide eyes, his smile changed to an open mouthed look of either confusion or astonishment. Akaashi blushed at their close proximity and leaned away as the man closed his mouth with a click but continued to stare.

“I know you.”

Akaashi brought his hands together, averting his gaze. “I don’t think we’ve met before, sorry.”

“No, no… I’ve definitely seen you before…” Bokuto muttered. His eyebrows furrowed as a frown made its way to his lips, but in moments it was replaced again with a large grin. Akaashi felt like he was getting whiplash with each emotion the man portrayed as he then snapped his fingers and proclaimed, “Ah, that’s right! You’re the man of my dreams!”

Akaashi felt light headed from the heat he felt on his face as Kuroo barked out a laugh, “Dude, that’s so corny!”

Kenma stifled a laugh and a roll of his eyes as Bokuto blushed. His posture displayed not a single ounce of nervousness though, instead his chest seemed to puff out with pride at how his compliment was taken. Akaashi would be lying if he didn’t find Bokuto and his mannerisms a bit charming, and also curious. He drew closer, “In that case, it’s about time I introduce myself. Akaashi Keiji.”

“Bokuto Koutaro,” The man greeted with a wink, “and don’t worry, soon I’ll be all you dream about too.”

Bokuto was charming. There was no other way to describe him. He was easy to make laugh or smile, he was appropriate and gentle even when his arm found Akaashi’s waist and kept it there. Occasionally his hand would move up and down Akaashi’s hip, as if encouraging him to keep talking or relaxing him whenever the bar got too loud. He’d sometimes lean in to joke about how cute and sappy Kenma and Kuroo could be, ending his statement with a squeeze. It never failed to leave Akaashi without shivers running down his spine. He was indeed interested in him. He dreaded telling Kuroo he finally picked a decent blind date.

“Look at him,” Bokuto laughed in Akaashi’s ear as Kuroo stared at Kenma, pouting when he wasn’t receiving affection despite him caressing Kenma’s hair. “He’s whipped.”

“He’s been like that since they got together four years ago,” Akaashi offered in return, leaning on Bokuto’s shoulder to ensure the two across from them wouldn’t hear them. Bokuto’s smile didn’t waver even as his hand tightened, tugging Akaashi just a fraction closer. Incidentally, it was only natural for Akaashi to shift to be comfortable against him, it was only normal to snuggle up a little, and it wasn’t like Bokuto seemed to notice or care. “Kenma once said that the only thing that changed was that he now felt like he owned a puppy that wouldn’t grow up.”

“I can see it, but I can also see the love between them.” When Akaashi glanced up, he noticed the fondness in Bokuto’s gaze. Though he didn’t know them for long, he knew Bokuto saw it. He respected it. Slowly, a pout fell onto Bokuto’s lips and he tilted his head to the side. “It sucks we can’t all find that kinda love so easy and quick.”

Corny and a sap, Akaashi thought as he nudged Bokuto. “Easy, puppy. You’ll be collared up one day.”

“Oh ho?” Bokuto waggled his eyebrows. “Is that what I have in store for me?”

“Aw, Kenma, aren’t these two just adooooorable?” Kuroo cooed, breaking Akaashi from his little bubble with Bokuto. He kicked Kuroo under the table and sent a glare his way as well. Kenma snickered.

Bokuto ordered food, yakitori and eihire, which he shared with Akaashi, and even bought him two more drinks; one of which remained between them since Akaashi didn’t want to get shitfaced when he had tons of homework left to do for class in the morning. Bokuto talked about his time at the gym and moving into his new apartment as Akaashi peppered in his own comments about the city and where good places to go eat were. Bokuto cut him off once with a laugh, “Why don’t you stop there and surprise me with a date to one of these ‘amazing’ places?”

“Well, if that’s what it will take to convince you, I suppose my hands are tied,” Akaashi hummed as he took a bite of chicken from one of their skewers.

“For the record, I like yakiniku,” Bokuto replied, his hand finding Akaashi’s to bend at his will until he was able to successfully lean over and tug a piece of chicken off his skewer. Akaashi batted his shoulder with a scowl.

“Pig.” He huffed though he couldn’t help the smile playing on his lips as Bokuto preened as though he was happy to be caught.

When the night was getting late, Bokuto slipped from the booth with an apologetic grin. “Thanks for having me, but I really got to go or I’ll miss my train home. It was nice to join you guys! Akaashi, let's do this again sometime!”

Akaashi sent him a little wave. “I’d love to. Be safe.”

Bokuto waved back with a chuckle, then sped off to the door. It was only once he left that Kuroo paused in his merriment of drinking and hummed out, “Ah… Bokuto forgot to give you his number, didn’t he?”

Akaashi blinked, then looked at the empty booth spot next to him. There wasn’t any paper or card left, and Akaashi felt his heart sink. Groaning, he took a long drink of his beer, eyeing the two glasses Bokuto had. One was still half full. He didn’t pay much attention as Kuroo comforted him, telling him he’d catch Bokuto at the gym later on in the week and get the number for him, or give him Akaashi’s number. Akaashi agreed to the latter, wanting to make sure he didn’t make his date uncomfortable. Was Bokuto expecting more of a fling from this? Unfortunately for him, Akaashi wasn’t interested in that case. He rarely kissed before a third date, and he almost never invited anyone back to his apartment without a deep bond established.

When they all started getting ready to leave, Kuroo had to be helped out of his seat and steadied by his boyfriend. He still had the audacity to ask if Akaashi wanted to be walked home.

“I can manage on my own. Please get some rest, Kuroo-san.” He watched as the two began to stumble to their nearby apartment before turning to head in the opposite direction, where he lived. When he reached the first intersection, he waited for the light despite the very few cars passing by.

“Akashi!”

Akaashi jolted from his daze and turned to see a man fastly approaching him from behind. His heart lurched until he spotted a too-wide smile, one he was surrounded by most of the night. “Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto came to a stop a few feet away from him, panting from exhaustion. Akaashi waited for him, ignoring the light that flickered to signal he was allowed to walk. When Bokuto stopped wheezing, he looked up at Akaashi and gave him a breathless smirk. “I… forgot… to get your number.”

Akaashi’s heart fluttered. So he did indeed forget. Their little double date didn’t end in failure. Biting his lip, Akaashi held out his hand until Bokuto placed a phone in his palm. He clicked the button, but frowned when he was met with a dark screen. “I think your phone is dead, Bokuto-san.”

“No way.” Bokuto snatched his phone back and aggressively pressed on the screen before groaning. He hung his head as he jammed the device into his pocket. “Damn, there’s no way I’ll get the train at this rate… I was gonna call a cab but…”

Akaashi pulled his phone out of his pocket and powered it on. “Don’t worry, Bokuto-san. I’ll call you one.”

“You would?” Bokuto whimpered, eyes glossy. “Oh god, you are honestly a life saver.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Akaashi huffed despite how he preened under the attention. He went to the search bar to find a service available as Bokuto finally collected himself all together and turned to look at the relatively empty roads.

“Say, how about I walk you home and we can have the cab meet outside of there. It’s not safe for you to be out here all on your own.”

Akaashi raised an eyebrow as he looked up from his phone. “You don’t think I can handle myself?”

“... Or maybe I just want to spend some more time with you,” Bokuto admitted, “it’d comfort me knowing I got you home safe.”

“Aren’t you a gentleman,” Akaashi teased. He found a service and made a request to meet in front of his apartment complex. It’d take around twenty-ish minutes to arrive, which wasn’t too bad since they were around ten minutes away from the building. Bokuto pressed the crossing button, and when the light came on, he walked across with Akaashi.

“I could have just gotten your number from Kuroo, you know?” Akaashi joked as they turned a corner. Bokuto deflated at that, slumping his shoulders.

“I didn’t think that far ahead. I didn’t want you thinking I wasn’t, like, interested, you know?” Akaashi hid his smile at the others' admittance as they kept walking. In time, Bokuto reached over to take Akaashi’s hand in a feather-like grip. He was like a gentle giant, and, like Akaashi hoped, he was indeed taller, which was a hard feat in Japan standards. He stole glances at his date throughout their walk, which remained relatively quiet aside from Bokuto’s happy humming and loud footsteps.

When they reached Akaashi’s building, he let go of Bokuto’s hand and stepped up to the stoop. “I’ll wait out with you until the cab comes.”

“You are the best,” Bokuto breathed, coming around to stand beside Akaashi. When his arm found its way back around Akaashi’s waist, he couldn’t help but lean into the warmth, chest tingling with joy after the nice night out he had. The air was cold, but Bokuto was a perfect radiator. Bokuto’s hand rubbed minutely up and down Akaashi’s waist. “Are you cold?”

Bokuto pulled him a little closer and Akaashi didn’t resist as Bokuto’s other hand found one of his. He held Akaashi’s hand as if it was a wounded dove as he guided it to his lips. He blew air on his fingers, hoping it’d help keep Akaashi comfortable.

“A little,” Akaashi mumbled with a blush, “but you are doing a wondrous job warming me up.”

Bokuto’s hand untangled from Akaashi’s in order to cup his chin, forcing Akaashi to meet his golden gaze. His knees felt weak as Bokuto grinned. “I know a faster way to go about it.”

Akaashi was usually firm on a few things. For one, he really, truly did not bring others into his home unless he had a connection with them. And he usually waited until the third date to even think about snuggling up to a potential partner and getting kissed senseless, but Bokuto didn’t fit the majority of his past lovers. Bokuto’s lips were dry and insistent, not giving Akaashi time to catch up or think as he fisted Bokuto’s shirt, pulling him close. He was right; Akaashi did feel warmer from his affections, especially on his cheeks each time they parted only to return again like magnets. Bokuto’s hand kneaded his hip insistently, as if trying to steer him somewhere when there was nowhere else to go.

Akaashi was usually firm on a few things, and he was sticking to them as he felt Bokuto’s hand drift down to squeeze his ass. A gasp left his lips, hair standing on end as Bokuto broke their kiss and began to press kisses below Akaashi’s ear.

“Ah, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi whispered uncomfortably. He settled a hand on Bokuto’s chest and pushed weakly, bowing his head down away from the others' view, “I’m… not really comfortable with… I might have sent some wrong signals-”

Bokuto immediately pulled away, scrambling back a few steps. He raised his hands up as though he was caught red-handed by an officer, face also flushed. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry- I should have asked- I didn’t mean to make you- Oh my god, please don’t hate me for that! I-It’s just that you are- you know- I-”

“I-It’s fine!” Akaashi insisted upon seeing his date’s panic. He winced at his words, backtracking fast to add, “I mean, it’s just I didn’t mean to lead you in that direction… quite… yet. I know you didn’t mean anything bad.”

Bokuto breathed out a huge breath as he relaxed once more, hands dangling at his sides. He sent Akaashi a thankful smile as they both settled back, this time with some distance between them as they waited for the cab. Akaashi almost wished he didn’t scare his date away, the night air becoming nippy at his skin. He crossed his arms over his chest and let out a small shiver.

“Hey, Akaashi…?” Bokuto mumbled as he played with his dead phone. “I feel it’s inappropriate to ask after I... can I have some water? Running from the station kinda dried out my throat.”

Akaashi nodded. “Oh, of course. Wait right here, I’ll just go up and get a cup.”

“I don’t want to be that much of a hassle,” Bokuto winced as he thought, “you already drank a bit, I don’t want you overexerting yourself. I can come up with you and wait in the hall if that’s okay? I promise there’ll be nothing more. We both know Kuroo would skin me alive at the drop of a hat if you asked.”

Akaashi hesitated at the door. On one hand, he didn’t want to leave Bokuto down on the street alone, nor did he want to walk back and forth trying not to spill a cup of water on the stairs. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure how comfortable he’d be with Bokuto in his apartment building. Sure, he was Kuroo’s friend so Kuroo would indeed kill him if he even heard about what he did earlier, but Akaashi had a weird seed forming in his gut that he didn’t trust.

Still, his exhaustion and good naturedness was going to be his downfall as he opened the door and held it open for Bokuto. He led Bokuto up the creaky stairs and to his apartment door. He unlocked the keys with shivers running down his spine at the feeling of Bokuto’s eyes on his back. He turned to give the man a little smile and held up a finger to signal him to wait, then crept into his apartment, leaving the door open a fraction.

He kicked off his shoes and headed to the kitchen. He selected a white mug from one of the cupboards and then took a moment to fill it to the brim with water. Cradling it between his hands, he walked out of the kitchen and toward the door, but froze in his steps as something moved in the corner of his eyes. He slowly turned to face the living room, where Bokuto was crouched and examining the papers sprawled all over his coffee table.

“Akaashi! I didn’t know you were a student,” Bokuto exclaimed, not once turning around to show he heard or saw Akaashi. He rummaged through the papers with fascination.

“Bokuto-san.” Akaashi’s hands curled around the cup. “Put those down.”

“Criminal justice, huh? These photos… Jeez, how’d you manage to get your hands on these?” Bokuto gasped, ignoring the coldness radiating from Akaashi’s words. He stopped once to stare down at a photo. He held it up, turning to smile innocently at Akaashi. “What’s this symbol mean?”

“Bokuto-san.” His voice shook. “Get out.”

“This is all so gruesome- is it from that one killer on the loose? The one that supposedly struck last night? You heard about that one, right? Gotta remain safe on the streets nowadays. Never know when that freak is lurking.”

Akaashi threw the mug down on the tile. Shards scattered around the floor, flying under his couch and piling up by his feet, all in several pieces. He rushed over, ceramic shards stabbing into his socked feet as he ripped the pages from Bokuto’s hands and growled, “Get the fuck out.”

Bokuto’s smile twitched, but he gave a little nod. He slowly stood, back cracking as he finally got up to his full height where he loomed over Akaashi, his massive form now seeming like a wall separating Akaashi from his work. His fingers trembled, wanting to push or shove or hit, but knowing full well he was in no shape to fight. He stood his ground instead and hoped. Bokuto stared down at him, unmoving.

“Are you working on the case of this guy?” Bokuto whispered. “Keeping the streets safe?”

“If you don’t leave right now, I will call the police.” Akaashi couldn’t do that. Even if he managed to get his phone out and Bokuto didn’t wrestle it away, he couldn’t have the department in his home. He’d be in deep trouble, and more likely than not he’d be let go from the station. He couldn’t let that happen. He needed this.

“If that’s the case, then why’d you let him get away yesterday?”

Akaashi froze. His eyes widened just as Bokuto’s smile faded into a less threatening, more gentle one. He tilted his head down to Akaashi, his warm honey eyes boring into Akaashi’s. His mind stuttered in its tracks as his eyes trailed over the man in front of him, taking in the new information and new sight. Sawamura didn’t see him fooling around. No neighbors were awake. It was only him and the suspect, who walked down the street after their silent standoff.

“I didn’t help him get away,” Akaashi whispered through a trembling voice, raising a hand to rest over his heart, “he wasn’t worried about getting caught. The person was dead long before the noise disturbance. He wanted the attention, the thrill, to see our reactions to his art…”

Bokuto raised his eyebrow minutely at the last word, but remained still as Akaashi stepped back, ceramic embedding into his heel. He didn’t wince as blood drooled onto his sock.

“And you gave him an easy-out.” Akaashi’s breath stuttered as Bokuto followed him, his shoes stopping him from being cut up by the broken mug. “Some police officer you are. Why’d you do that? Why’d you let me go?”

Akaashi bit his lip as Bokuto’s arms came up. His hands clamped down on Akaashi’s hips, holding him in a still, firm grip that sent Akaashi’s heart to the sky. He was strong. He could see the veins and muscles in his arms. He almost forgot the question asked, too busy reveling in the feeling of being held by the man he had been infatuated with for nearly three years. It was grounding to finally put a face to a deed, a face to a coldblooded, elusive serial killer.

“Because you saved my life,” Akaashi replied. His eyes flickered down, cheeks rosy at the thought of meeting Bokuto’s gaze as he stepped forward, pressing himself into his date. He was still so warm. “I’d do anything for you.”

Bokuto released him the moment he realized Akaashi wasn’t keen on running away or screaming. In fact, Akaashi didn’t even excuse himself to the restroom or try to get Bokuto another water out of his sight, instead insisting Bokuto follow him to the kitchen so they’d remain at ease. It was bizarre, claiming he felt more comfortable when within arm’s reach of a killer, but he didn’t retract his statement as Bokuto sipped at his new mug of water. Akaashi watched his Adam’s apple bobble with each gulp. Bokuto, on the other hand, was staring at the broken shards sprawled across the room.

“Are you going to clean that up?”

Akaashi jumped in his spot, snapping from his daze. “A-Ah, yes, yes. One moment, please.”

Akaashi reached into the nearby broom closet. He grabbed a dustpan and broom before striding past Bokuto, eagerly beginning to clean the broken mess. Bokuto eventually moved to sit down in the living room, allowing Akaashi out of his sight as he dumped the ceramic shards in the trash and put the cleaning supplies away. He supposed Bokuto either felt confident in his abilities to stop him from doing anything or didn’t care. Instead, he was more intent to look through the piles of news reports, written statements, and photos Akaashi collected over the years about him.

When Akaashi joined him again he chose to sit in seiza beside the couch, Bokuto gestured to the information in front of him, “Is this really all the police have?”

“Uh, no, there’s more.” Akaashi adjusted his glasses. “I’m not actually… allowed on the case. I’m not done with training or getting my degree, so I am there part-time. Not allowed to have a lot of access to things or a gun… This is all either found from the news, from contacting victim’s families directly, my own experiences, or stuff I… took and photocopied from the station. The ones with a highlighted upper-corner are photocopied versions of the originals.”

“Your own experiences?” Bokuto drawled. He eyed a particular stack of papers, which Akaashi jumped at the chance to explain. Snatching the papers, he hurriedly laid them out for easier viewing.

“Two and a half years ago, you murdered Matsui Arata. These are the photos I took before the police arrived.” Akaashi’s fingers grazed over the last picture as he set it down, lightning jolting through his system. He could see that night playing through his mind as he continued, “I found him in our bedroom once I got home from the library. I was in such a panic at the time and, after a good few minutes of shock, I called the police. As the operator talked to me, and as I stared at him… I felt relieved. I felt like there was an end. For once I was able to sit back and lean against the fucking wall and breathe, even if blood was staining my clothes and my hand was inches from some rancid pile of meat...”

“Matsui Arata,” Akaashi huffed, finally meeting Bokuto’s eyes, “deserved to die.”

Bokuto frowned down at him. Akaashi shifted in his seat to get a better view of the messy scene. “I was so relieved that someone did this for me, I tampered with the evidence after I took photos and hid the camera. I wanted to keep this memory of him, the most beautiful he’s ever been.”

A blush rose to his cheeks as Akaashi sat back, pushing some hair from his face. “Ah, some other victims too… I met their friends, fiancees, parents… the more I heard about them, the more I realized how they deserved to die too.”

He pointed to a news article. “Mondo Fukuyo. He deserved to die.”

And another. “Suzuyu Hirakoshi deserved to die too.”

“Akaashi.” His mouth snapped shut, the wide grin on his lips falling into a straight press as he leaned back, allowing Bokuto full view of his research. However, Bokuto didn’t bother with it anymore than that. He stood from the couch and crossed the room and into the hall. Akaashi remained obediently sitting beside the coffee table, eying the sheets. His fingers twisted in his lap, nerves shooting up his spine. The man he’s been chasing through articles and research and investigation was here in his house. He was huge, attractive, and dashing, nothing like Akaashi dared to expect from the one who saved him. It just made his resolve stronger.

And then his phone buzzed in his pocket. He jumped, startled at first, but then he grabbed it out. He answered it upon recognizing the contact. “Kenma. Did you get home safely?”

“Yeah. Kuroo was freaking out you didn’t call to say you got home safely.”

“Well, I’m fine.” Akaashi heard some shuffling in the hallway. It was a set of heavy footsteps hearing back his way, and just as Bokuto came into view, Akaashi locked eyes with him and muttered, “I just realized I have a ton of work I overlooked for class and it’s due in a few days. I will be AWOL from messages and calls until I get it all done, sorry.”

Bokuto stared at him with a blank expression as Akaashi excused himself from the call, then set his phone on the table. He offered his guest a smile as Bokuto disappeared back into the hallway. He waited a few minutes until he heard Bokuto once again.

“Akaashi, come over here.”

He scrambled to his feet and rushed to the hallway to rejoin Bokuto. He made it past the bathroom and guest room, both of which were empty, and entered his bedroom. His heart fluttered at the implications, but fell when he spotted something in Bokuto’s hands. He remained by the door.

“I told you to come here,” Bokuto grunted from where he stood by the side of the bed. A pair of black handcuffs scavenged from Matsui’s bedside table, the one Akaashi refused to touch over any means necessary. His hands began to twitch, his fingernails digging into his skin.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Akaashi backed up against the door. “I swear. I want to help.”

“I’m sure you do.” His tone was firm. Akaashi felt a daze cover his eyes, like they were going cross as Bokuto wove one of the handcuffs through the bed frame. “You have to do this in order to help me. Come here.”

Akaashi’s feet dragged across the floor as he slowly stumbled over to the bed. When he reached it, he took a seat down on the side, unable to look the killer in the eyes as Bokuto took his wrists and cuffed them. It stung even though there were no cuts or bruises to dig into the skin now along with the metal cuffs. His eyes pricked with tears, but he swallowed down his anxiety as Bokuto crossed the room and grabbed a tie out of his closet. He brought the tie up to Akaashi’s face, but Akaashi reeled back quickly.

“Not that!” He crawled to the other side of the bed, distancing himself as much as possible. “Look! I’m staying right here. I’ll be quiet.”

“I thought you wanted to do anything for me,” Bokuto replied, kneeling on the bed to get back over to him. Akaashi strained his arm to get farther away, but Bokuto caught up with him soon enough given he didn’t have much room anyways. He dragged Akaashi to lie down, his knees caging the smaller man in.

“Please, please,” Akaashi pleaded as Bokuto brought the tie up to cover his eyes. A spike of fear ran through his system for the first time since discovering Bokuto’s secret. He struggled to try and sit up, but it felt useless. “Please, puppy, I’ll be good. Let me show you. I can be good.”

Bokuto paused at that. He sat back on his heels, golden eyes boring into his own. A smile cracked onto his lips and he leaned forward, cupping Akaashi’s cheek. His thumb stroked his cheek bone before digging into his eyebag. Akaashi gasped, leaning away from the intrusion even when Bokuto followed, nail biting into his skin. Then he pulled back. “I know you can. You will.”

His thumb smoothed out over Akaashi’s skin, soothing the pain out as he leaned forward and kissed Akaashi once more, just as he had done on the porch. Akaashi’s brain fizzled in an attempt to comprehend, but he returned the kiss regardless. Part of his head was somewhere else, wondering if their initial kiss and groping was all an attempt to get into Akaashi’s apartment. In the end it didn’t matter, right? Akaashi closed his eyes, his chains rattling when he attempted to wrap his arms around Bokuto. The noise severed their contact and Bokuto hurriedly got to his feet, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

“Fine. Be good and the blindfold will remain off.”

And with that, he left. He didn’t return before Akaashi eventually fell asleep.

Akaashi walked into the apartment at 11:23 PM with his bookbag. It was his fourth day of coming home late after leaving for school and work at 7AM in the morning. He avoided being home at all costs, but when he entered today, he felt relief. Well, relief and a mix of dread.

For once, no one was waiting up to question why he was late. He was hoping that after being late for several days in a row that his fiance would be fast asleep, too exhausted to reprimand him tonight. Licking his lips, he placed his book bag on the counter. Instead of the familiar leather strap in his hand, his fingers found their way around a wooden handle. He stalked off toward the bedroom.

The door was open, and he prayed to all known beings that Matsui was asleep. Please. He took a step closer. Please. He peered in the door.

A dark mass was on the wall by Matsui’s side of the bed. That was the only reason he turned on the lights instead of creeping over to their bed in the dark.

When he saw it, he dropped the knife he was holding on the ground. His mouth fell open, eyes fixed on the mess of body parts in front of him. He could recognize the bits and pieces, familiar to him after the three years they’ve dated, the year they’ve been engaged, and that same year filled with abuse and hatred.

Akaashi slowly picked up the knife and placed it back in the block. He wiped his hands on a towel, then pulled out his phone and a jug of bleach.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I-I need help- No, no my fiance, Matsui, he needs… He’s dead. I came home and I just walked into our room and he’s…. Oh god, it’s awful,” Akaashi cried as he knelt beside his fiancee, wiping his hands and the bruises along his skin with bleach in case of any left over DNA was lying there.

“Sir, may I have an address?”

“I- Yes, it’s… 3-4.. Sorry, sorry, 3-3-4, Ginza, Chuo-ku,” Akaashi whimpered, using his hand towel to move around a few chunks of Matsui. When he spotted something shining on the carpet, he glanced over to it. It was a finger. It wasn’t attached to a hand; it was simply sitting on the ground as if it was a worm. A worm wearing an engagement ring. Akaashi slipped it off, then stood and threw a nearby table lamp at the body. He threw his alarm clock at the wall, then exited the room to continue to wreak havoc. The more there was to see, the harder it’d be for them.

When Akaashi woke up, Bokuto was in the room. He held a small stack of papers in one hand, the other jostling Akaashi’s leg to get him to wake up. When he did, Bokuto held the papers in front of him. A reminiscent smile worked its way on Akaashi’s lips.

“It’s been a while,” Bokuto mumbled, his voice akin to someone whole only just woken, “and you’ve chosen to settle in the same place your fiance was murdered. You sleep soundly in the room you saw him in, dismembered.”

Akaashi tilted his head to the side, his arms sore and tired. “I stayed in hopes that you’d return. You never did. Well, until now. I’ve redecorated since.”

“That you did,” Bokuto snorted. “Love what you’ve done with the place.”

Akaashi glanced at the table lamp to his side and smiled. However, before he could continue on, a loud knock came from the front door. Bokuto jolted up, stuffing the papers under the sheets. When he faced Akaashi again, he looked the same as he did when the mug was shattered. Large, dominating, dark. Akaashi stuttered in his breath.

“Akaashi! Open up!” He could see in Bokuto’s eyes the dread that spread within him as he recognized the voice. Kuroo. “C’mon, dumbass, I know you didn’t plan to hole up for a week. I got you some instant noodles and taiyaki!”

“Don’t respond,” Bokuto ordered quietly. Akaashi quirked an eyebrow at him.

“That’s not a good idea,” Akaashi began, but before he could continue they heard the front door open.

“Oh don’t mind me! Just remembering why you gave me an extra key,” Kuroo announced as he stumbled in. Bokuto tensed upon hearing the ruckus Kuroo was making, but Akaashi just stared at the handcuffs. He jangled them quietly before sighing to himself.

“Bokuto-san, can you please take off your shirt for me?” Akaashi whispered, trying to gauge if Kuroo was heading over to wake his friend or was putting food away first. It seemed to be the latter. It gave him adequate time to access Bokuto’s incredulous expression. Akaashi sighed and rolled his eyes. “Or you could unlock me, make a commotion in the progress. Go ahead.”

Bokuto grit his teeth. Footsteps were heard in the hall as well as Kuroo’s incessant babbling about a hangover. Bokuto’s hands found the bottom of his shirt and he tugged it off with ease, throwing it to the ground. Akaashi nudged his head, eying the sheets and Bokuto grumbled under his breath, tugging them up and over most of Akaashi just as Kuroo walked into the doorway. He immediately reeled back.

“Shit Akaashi!” Kuroo dwelled in the hallway for a moment before coming back to his senses and slipping back into the bedroom with a raised eyebrow. “... And Bokuto. Huh. Handcuffs on the first date is kinda kinky, don’t you think?”

“Get out,” Akaashi scowled, kicking Bokuto. “Idiot, don’t stop looking! Find the key!”

“So that’s why you were being quiet,” Kuroo cackled, throwing them a wink before heading back into the hallway toward the living room. “Don’t worry! I’m not judging! Bo, free your little damsel in distress. Want coffee?”

“Please,” Bokuto wheezed as he slipped a hand into his pocket and dug out the key. He slid it into the lock, not turning it. Akaashi bit his lip and waited for Bokuto to finish turning the lock. When he continued to wait, Akaashi leaned up, bumping their noses together.

“Puppy, please,” Akaashi cooed, “we have to keep Kuroo company, don’t we?”

“Yeah, puppy, I’ll be out of your hair soon and you two can do whatever weird ass shit you're into.”

Bokuto growled under his breath and unlocked the cuffs. He tucked the key back into his pants and threw his shirt back on as Akaashi sat up, rubbing his wrists. He tossed Bokuto an unamused look before climbing out of bed. “Let’s go before he starts getting too antsy.”

Bokuto followed him out and to the kitchen where Kuroo poured them each a mug of coffee. He added milk and sugar to his own, mixing it fervently as he eyed the two. It was only when Akaashi was mid-sip that Kuroo decided to break the tension. “So, is the class you were having to do a ‘lot of work in’ chemistry? I passed last semester with flying colors so I could help you, unless we are thinking about a class outside of your college workload.”

He eyed Bokuto who blushed, downing his coffee. Kuroo rolled his eyes. “You two so owe me. I’m just confused how you two met up. I thought Bokuto was catching a train?”

“Fate, I suppose,” Bokuto laughed, scratching his neck.

“Hm.” Kuroo clicked his tongue. “You call it fate, I call it horniness.”

“Drop it,” Akaashi hissed over his mug.

“I’m just sayin’!” Kuroo cooed, raising his hands in the air. He grinned, but the light shining in his eye told a different emotion. “I’m happy you two are getting along, but I feel like it’s my responsibility to give the official ‘if you break his heart, you die’ spiel. Standard protocol. Gotta make sure he knows his place.”

“I’m sure Bokuto-san knows better than that,” Akaashi replied soothingly. He ran a hand down Bokuto’s arm, admiring how it densed under his gentle ministrations. When golden eyes locked with his own, he gave him a closed eye smile. “After all, you’d know immediately that it’s his doing.”

The look happened again. Dark, looming, but this time with a hint of something Akaashi couldn’t place. All he knew was that there was a similair word crossing through both of their minds. The one Akaashi had been thinking of positively since Bokuto revealed his true self, the same one Bokuto thought of in a negative light right now.

Trapped.