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In a world where you could find who your soulmate is when you turn 18 and his name shows on a part of your body, Bokuto Koutarou prayed for a year and a half for his soulmate to be Akaashi Keiji.
He fell in love with him the moment he saw him introducing himself during Bokuto’s second year of high school. “I played setter,” he had said and Bokuto already liked him, somehow, at that moment right there.
Well, it took more time for his feelings to grow. First, it became fondness, to then a crush, until he was sure it was love. Akaashi had this aura around him, this gentleness hidden between his quiet and blunt behavior. A sweetness dripping like honey into Bokuto’s hungry mouth.
He didn’t want to confess, he realized at the end of their first year together. Because soon, Bokuto would turn eighteen and he’d have his soulmate’s name carved on his skin.
He didn’t know if he could love that person like he loved Akaashi, but he would rather not risk their friendship if they didn’t end up as soulmates.
The thought terrified him. And on the night he turned eighteen, a name in a simple, neat handwriting appeared on the left side of his hip - it had taken him a few minutes to locate it. And it said Akaashi Keiji.
At first, he was so excited that he almost called Akaashi to tell him. But what if he was not Akaashi’s soulmate? What if he got a soulmate who will never love him back? What if it just means they’re souls that are meant to be, just not romantically?
Bokuto spent the entire day sulking. It took him a few days to shake it off, but he let it go for a while. He would wait until Akaashi’s graduation and then confess to Akaashi. He would wait for Akaashi to get his soulmate as well.
When he went to college, he thought he would go insane. As much as he texted Akaashi, not seeing him frequently was enough to make him sad whenever he thought of him. Besides, he was still worried whether he was Akaashi’s soulmate or not.
The night Akaashi turned eighteen, Bokuto sent him a happy birthday message but didn’t sleep at all. And afterwards, Akaashi didn’t bring up the soulmate topic, which disappointed Bokuto to no end. Maybe he wasn’t Akaashi’s soulmate after all.
On Akaashi’s graduation day, Bokuto showed up and celebrated the day with his old teammates from Fukurodani. After the ceremony, Akaashi invited Bokuto to talk privately and let the others go ahead to the restaurant.
“Akaashi? What’s wrong?” he had asked, and Akaashi’s nervous face was worrying Bokuto.
“I have to tell you something. It’s about my soulmate.”
The unsure and concerned tone in Akaashi’s voice made Bokuto’s heart drop.
“I have to tell you something. It’s about my soulmate.”
The unsure and concerned tone in Akaashi’s voice made Bokuto’s heart drop.
“You can tell me anything,” he reassured but Akaashi wouldn’t look at him. Instead, he crouched down and lifted the hem of his left leg, showing his ankle. It had a name written them. Bokuto mimicked his position.
Bokuto Koutarou, it was written. For a few moments, Bokuto didn’t even know what to do or say. It just felt too surreal, too good to be true.
“I’m sorry if I am not your soulmate, but.... you deserve to know.”
That’s when Bokuto got up, pulling Akaashi with him.
“I’m sorry if I am not your soulmate, but.... you deserve to know.”
That’s when Bokuto got up, pulling Akaashi with him.
He smiled brightly at Akaashi. “I love you,” he simply said and pulled his jeans a bit down just to show Akaashi’s name on his hipbone. The other boy’s breath hitched, and he managed a tiny smile as well.
“I love you, too,” he managed before Bokuto kissed him.
“I love you, too,” he managed before Bokuto kissed him.
“...and that’s how dad and I got together. Turned out we had been in love with each other for two years and didn’t even know! Meant to be, huh?” Bokuto-Akaashi Koutarou says, sitting between the 4 year old boy and the 6 year old girl on the couch in the living room.
“Daddy, what about the story of when you got married?” the little girl, Yua, asked. But then the other Bokuto-Akaashi adult arrives, smiling at the kids.
“Another day,” Keiji says while his son, Hiroaki, whines. “It’s bedtime, kids.”
“Another day,” Keiji says while his son, Hiroaki, whines. “It’s bedtime, kids.”
They both tuck the kids in their respective beds and go back to the living room, to sit on the couch, wrapped around each other. “You tell them this story at least once a month,” Keiji whispers and Koutarou laughs.
“It’s one of my favorites, Keiji.”
“It’s one of my favorites, Keiji.”
“One of?” he asks, turning to kiss him softly on the lips. “What’s your favorite?”
“Mhmmm,” Koutarou ponders for a moment and then kisses his husband gently again. “Every day with you is my favorite story to tell.”
“Sappy.”
“You love it.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Mhmmm,” Koutarou ponders for a moment and then kisses his husband gently again. “Every day with you is my favorite story to tell.”
“Sappy.”
“You love it.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
