#wow! I am so grateful I found this book in my middle school library! surely this will have no lasting effects on my interests and psyche!

[captainspaulding]

just saw someone call cdf a book series for 8 year olds and thats wild considering theres graphic descriptions of children being eaten alive and people being murdered and the entire first 3 books being a metaphor for csa and grooming.

[insomniamagic]

Bokuroo Week 2018 Day 5; Prompt - College

Words:     6962

Bokuto and Kuroo never answered the calling of a sports career. They choose an academic path, forcing them to miss their first meeting on a volleyball court. Kuroo and Bokuto meet anyway, their stars always aligning with each other, crossing with each other, following one another.

Read on AO3 or under the cut! Thank you so much :) 

Regarding the picture - my camera and scanner hate me...

Every story you tell, every letter you write, every dance you give, I will follow your heart

 “Akaashi. I saw him. Again! We met and this time we talked, haha. Ha. I was so worried, like, what do I do? What do I do? I was so lucky, you won´t believe how lucky I was! He started to convo first, phew. Actually, I don´t like to write long messages, but you know, since you are away for some time and this is important, I think I might do just that. Well, listen. Eh, read…”

 Bokuto bursts into the library as a fully loaded truck with a tower of books leaning over his head. The sign alerting everyone to keep silent means nothing to him as he makes weird noises trying to balance the books. There was no grace in his movements and no chance for him to keep his already wavering stability with so many textbooks he will probably never even start reading.

Everything falls down like a house of cards. “Sorry, I am so sorry!” He yells and puts palm over his mouth immediately. “Sorry, I´ll be quiet from now on. Sorry.” Bokuto tries to apologize silently, his speech slowing down, volume rising up.

His eyes widen, seeing the librarian fuming and walking right towards him. “I´ll take care of that. He is new here,” says a man in a wine red shirt with dark, messy hair. Bokuto squints his eyes. He seems familiar.

“I don´t care, just keep quiet.” Librarian´s tone got a bit softer. She turns on a heel and strides away.

Bokuto tries to pick the books up, when he hears a low cackling. He stares back up, right into the very pretty face of a man in red. Bokuto swallows saliva clumped on his tongue, persuading his stare to look away from those hazel eyes and sharp featured face. The thin black glasses certainly didn´t help making him any less attractive.

The squealing noise comes out from between his lips. Yes, of course he knows him. He saw him at their apartment building, leaving Sawamura´s place. Bokuto remembers the wink he got, forever burned inside right in the middle of his brain. “I am sure it´s only me who remembers,” he thinks.

Before he can stop his train of scattered thoughts, he panics. “Oh no,” his mind shouts at him. The last time he found someone attractive was a straight man. If the history repeats itself, he would be so screwed and not in a good way. Thankfully, he couldn´t care less about “being screwed” anyway.

“Are you okay?” Man shakes his head, still smiling. “Sorry, my name is Kuroo Tetsurou. Do you need help?”

Bokuto hardly nods, his body completely stiff.

“Come on, let´s go my friend!” First, Kuroo tidies the books into two manageable piles, then he puts his arms under Bokuto´s slumped body to help him get up.

Finally, that muscled body cooperates. “I am sorry,” Bokuto mumbles.

“That´s fine.” Kuroo takes the first pile of books, Bokuto grabs the second one. “You can sit with me if you´d like.”

“Why?” We are strangers, Bokuto thinks, although his whole being hopes for anything but to part their ways. There was something charming about Kuroo, some spark he wishes to catch.

Kuroo turns to him, showing a bit of his perfect profile. “Yes, we basically are. Maybe I am mistaken, I thought it was you I saw the last time at the apartment building. Third floor?”

Bokuto gasps. “No, no, actually, yes, of course. I didn´t realize-“

“Then it´s all good, right? We know each other a little. At least, we both have a mutual acquaintance, right? I can leave you alone if you wish to.”

Bokuto´s insides dance for a second before giving an answer. “I would be grateful for some company.” They sit down, Bokuto in awe. “He remembers.”

“Well?”

Bokuto is startled by the question, his nose already in his unreadable notes. “Hm?”

“What do you study?” Kuroo inquires, chin resting on his joint hands, smirk hiding right behind them.

“Ehm-“ Bokuto stares down at his scribbles. “Interior design.” He can hear the unenthusiastic tone coming from under his breath.

Kuroo raises one eyebrow. “Oho? Is it that boring?”

“What? No-“ he closes his mouth and frowns. “It´s fine. It´s my first year so I have to get used to it. My best friend is studying on the other side of the country and I am somewhat- what is the word for it? I don´t know how to deal with things without him steadying me. That´s all. And maybe, maybe I thought of a different path once.” Bokuto waits for a reaction. “What?” He whines as Kuroo examines his face with intense focus.

“Nothing,” Kuroo puts his hands down. “You like oversharing with strangers, hm?”

“Oversharing?” Bokuto didn´t think of it that way. He didn´t care what others knew about his life. “You?”

“Also first year, languages and literature. I thought about studying abroad.” Kuroo corrects his glasses and taps the biggest book Bokuto ever saw. “Myths and legends. And some of my notes.” He hides those pretty quickly.

Bokuto´s eyes sparkle with joy. “Beautiful handwriting. Not as beautiful as Akaashi´s, but very pretty.” Then he turns to his own notebook. “Eh, I know it´s not readable, I-“

“No problem,” Kuroo smiles and yelps too loud when examining the scribbles, immediately apologizing to those around him. “It´s not that bad,” Kuroo says unexpectedly.

“What? I can´t read it myself!” Bokuto is horrified, shocked and impressed.

Kuroo chuckles. “Come on, it´s alright. Do you want me to decipher your own writings?”

“Yes, please,” Bokuto answers, knowing Kuroo will refuse him. It couldn´t have been an honest offer.

Kuroo contemplates for a bit, pen twirling in his fingers. “Okay. If you´ll lend me these papers, I can give it to you at the end of the week, clear as day.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“No.” Every ounce of joking is gone for a moment. “I offered, you said please, I make good on my promises.”

Bokuto opens his mouth to protest, but Kuroo´s stare shuts him up. Instead, he asks: “Do you like your studies?” He eyes the book again.

“Yes,” Kuroo nods. “As you said, there might have been a different path once, but I am happy here.”

“What was that different path?”

“Wow, no filter, huh?” Kuroo isn´t angry, quite the opposite. “Actually, it was sports. I wasn’t sure I was good enough, so I made my second choice.”

Bokuto has been unable to talk for some time, occupied by his surprise.

“Is it so unbelievable or did you short-circuit?”

“It´s a weird coincidence. I also thought of sports career. I stopped before I could even start. I tried my first year of high school, but there was something missing. I had someone to pull me up from my mood swings, but I had no one to push me forward. Like-like I missed some kind of rival to help me with finding the right direction. I don´t know, it´s silly.” Bokuto puts his chin on his chest, wishing to hide under the table. Maybe he is going to do exactly that.

Kuroo opens a book. “Do you know what´s so good about literature and languages? It helps you to understand not everything is a coincidence, not everything has to be a coincidence. And sometimes. Sometimes it really is that one piece missing. If only one thing was different, if only one piece of the puzzle made a different decision, maybe in a different universe, in the past or present, the path would be clear.”

“What?” Bokuto mumbles.

“Have you ever heard the story about a cursed sailor and a cursed noble man?”

“No,” Bokuto exhales.

Kuroo smiles. “One of them was cursed for trying to steal from the death itself. He was forced to sail the seas for one hundred years or longer if he was unable to find a place called The Promised Land. Every five years, he was allowed to have one week on shore. The noble man cursed himself, accidentally, because of the strong heartbreak he felt. The seas took him to a remote island to live alone. After eighty years living with their curses all by themselves, they met. Following their first meeting, they tried to meet everytime the sailor had a chance to step on the land. They never forgot each other, they fought for each other, they fell in love and in the end, they got freed, because the noble man-“ Kuroo halts. “No. I won´t spoil it for you, you just have to read it.”

“No! Don´t tease me like that!” Bokuto yelps.

“Oho, I can tease you in many ways, don´t you worry.”Kuroo puts the book away. “Was their meeting a coincidence? Was it a destiny or luck?”

Bokuto pouts, crossing his arms and turning away from him. “Tease,” he repeats.

“I am not-maybe I am. Actually,” Kuroo cackles, then eyes Bokuto up and down, contemplating something. “Would you like to dance with me?”

“Dance? Where is that coming from?” Bokuto is intrigued.

“There is a dance competition, first three places get a certain amount of credits and a financial aid for university expenses. Hm?”

“Two men are allowed to enter?” Bokuto´s head is spinning. Is this his chance?

Kuroo touches his shoulder, turning him back to face him. “Anyone can enter. Single, group, duo, eighty people. And I don´t care.” Last sentence was emphasized.

“I am clumsy.”

“Me too.” Kuroo sighs. “Don´t tell me that a muscle mass like you is unable to move those pretty hips, hm? Do you want me to ask Sawamura?”

Bokuto gasps. “Hey, hey, hey, let me think about it.”

“I am.”

All the time Bokuto thinks, Kuroo stares at him like he´s a painting to be admired. Bokuto feels uneasy and flattered at the same time. “Em,” Bokuto starts, unsure, “do you have any more stories like that?”

Kuroo leans in. “Plenty.”

“Will tell you me some more?”

“Plenty.”

“Then okay.”

“Great.”

  “Okay, Kenma. Listen to this. Do you remember the guy I mentioned in the last letter? When I left the study session with Sawamura? Kenma, stop that train of thought. I don´t see you, but I know what you think right now. Where was I? Ah, yes. Do you remember that guy? Wet silver hair with black streaks, falling down all to his face, towel around the hips, golden eyes of sunshine and joy, just as piercing as yours. And that one looks you in the eye almost too intense. I didn´t recognize him at first, because he wore his hair styled upwards, then I saw his face. He is so weird, but I think I like him. There is something pulling me towards him. I feel like I may be able to let loose around him. Oh, by the way, he agreed on that dance competition. Since Sawamura refused and Tooru ditto, but that´s not the point. How awesome is that? I asked for fun and to tease, but he agreed! I will update you later, I have to go now. Please, don´t forget to eat! Love, Kuroo.”

 Next month was spent at dance rehearsals, which wasn´t easy thanks to their university schedules being so tough. It took them some getting used to, especially with studying at different faculties.

They agreed to meet at the nearby gym close to Sawamura´s place. “Okay, I have no basics, so what did you have in mind?” Bokuto stands in the middle, watching himself in the mirror, flexing his arms.

“Are you checking if they are still there?” Kuroo teases.

“No?” Bokuto shies a bit.

Kuroo closes the distance between them in five long strides to touch the biceps himself. “Nice!” he exclaims in an honest surprise. “I think you are good, man!”

“Thank you! Thank you so much! So cool, cool!” Bokuto´s face starts to shine like a sun.

“Stop with that smile or I´ll go blind!” Kuroo makes fun of him as he watches Bokuto getting pumped for their training. “Hey, Bokuto. Bokuto, look at this video, this is-“ Bokuto doesn´t stop. He runs around, jumps, does some push ups and talks about his workouts. “Maybe I shouldn´t have praised him,” Kuroo thinks, then shouts: “Hey, ace of working out! Are you scared of a little dance?”

Bokuto freezes on the spot. “Show me!”

The challenge was thrown and that challenge was accepted, Kuroo thinks, cackling to himself.

The long month of almost impossible, begins.

Both men fall down to the floor, chests heaving, feet hurting. “You know,” Bokuto says through shallow breaths. “I don´t think jive and quickstep were a good idea. Too tough.”

“Yep, I think you might be right,” Kuroo agrees, then slaps Bokuto´s arm. “Don´t breathe like that. Breathe at my counts. Inhale slowly, one, two, three, now the same, but exhale. One, two, three. Continue.” Kuroo sighs, giggling at Bokuto´s inability to follow the instructions. “Trust me, you´ll feel better. Shallow breaths are tiring, especially with tough physical activity.”

“Okay,” Bokuto mutters, the work prolonged and unhappy.

“Oh no,” Kuroo gets worried. “Bokuto? Would you like for me to change the dance? We can do something different.”

“No.” He turns away, still on the floor, knees curled in.

“Bokutooo,” Kuroo sings, tickling him. Bokuto chuckles with his mood unchanged. “Would tango be okay? You are a passionate man, it would suit you very much. I can play your damsel in distress.”

“No.”

“No what? Tango or the damsel?”

“Tango is fine.”

“So, do you want to be the damsel in distress?”

Bokuto grunts.

“Ah, you don’t want anyone to be in distress. We can be both strong and able to save ourselves. It can be the most intense performance of joy and passion anyone has ever seen. You can have a rose in your mouth. Hm?” Kuroo doesn´t push him, doesn´t continue to tickle him. He just caresses his arm and back, waiting for him to be ready again.

“That sounds nice,” Bokuto sits with eyes glued to Kuroo. “Go on,” he commands, putting Kuroo´s hand back where it was, prompting him to continue.

Kuroo smiles as he caresses him a bit longer. “Do you want to hear another story?”

“Yes,” Bokuto nods quickly, the spark coming back to him.

“There was an unknown time and unknown place with two friends having fun in the forest of emerald colors. They both loved to spend time together, too enthusiastic about everything. The forest was deemed a place where magic rested. You were allowed to go in but forbidden to disturb the peace of the place. The story is not about the forest, but those friends who didn´t care about magic or the trees or what is allowed or forbidden. They searched for fun, they looked for any excuse to spend time together.”

Bokuto listens carefully, his breath calm, arms close to Kuroo. “Did they love each other?” he whispers.

Kuroo smiles the softest smile anyone has ever seen. “Yes. They didn´t know and they didn´t tell, until the mistake happened. One wanted to confess to the other by picking one of the flowers, a red tulip. The forest did not like that.” Kuroo´s expression darkened a bit. “I admire this story,” he admits. “While it makes me very sad.” He doesn´t look at Bokuto as he continues. “The forest tries to punish them, when the other man takes it upon himself. He gets trapped into the tree, forever. The end.”

“The end?” Bokuto screeches, scaring other people around. “What about the other man? They didn´t even get to know they are in love? What kind of story is that?”

Kuroo pats his shoulder. “They knew. Of course, they knew, words weren´t needed. Just because one turned into a tree doesn’t mean they stopped seeing each other.”

“What?”

“Come on, let´s practice some more. So, about that rose?”

 Before they finished their first year of university, Kuroo Tetsurou and Bokuto Koutaro placed first in the dance competition. All of it thanks to freedom they allowed themselves to have and the passion that oozed out of their performance. Purple and teal overalls also helped, mixing together softness and strength, blurring gender differences of any kind. They gave it everything and kept nothing, the rose unused in the end.

As they pack their things, Kuroo examines Bokuto mannerism, his moves, the stare towards another competitor they met named Ushijima. Something inside of Kuroo stirs, the heaviness falling inside of his gut. “We should have sealed it with a kiss,” Kuroo says as a matter of fact.

“Eh?” Bokuto finally stops ogling the beefy man of a god’s stature.

“You know, the dance.”

“I don´t think they would appreciate it here,” Bokuto says with a shrug.

Kuroo is taken aback. First, why did he ask this? Second, why was Bokuto opened to the possibility? When it comes, to Kuroo, it´s not surprising. Anyone who knows him is well informed about his sexuality. He cares only about who you are as a person, the rest is irrelevant. But Bokuto? Well, after his undressing of Ushijima with his gaze, he can´t so shocked. Kuroo usually doesn´t find people attractive unless he knows them better, but he could understand other points of view. Kuroo sighs as he looks at his own build, lean, resembling more a dancer than anyone as buff as Bokuto.

“Kurooooooo, don´t ignore me!” Bokuto wales.

“What? Ah, sorry, I am tired.”

“What about that kiss?”

“Kiss?” Kuroo´s demeanor changes into his cocky other self. “Well, are you that brave for something like that? Even now?”

Bokuto makes a weird sound and then it happens. One mouth collided with the other, tips of their tongues involved. Bokuto pulls back, his lips smirking at surprised Kuroo. “You aren´t the only one who can tease, you know?” He leaves Kuroo in his dust.

“What just happened?” Kuroo asks silently.

“He kissed you,” Ushijima informs him seriously.

“I didn´t-“ Kuroo doesn´t finish, but his head is ready to explode. “Was it just for fun?”

  “Akaashi, I screwed up! I kissed him, to be a tease exactly like him. I thought it might be nice, you know, the heat of the moment, but-I don´t know, I am scared, what is this? What should I do now? Help! I don´t know what I feel, I don´t know how he feels. I like his stories, I like spending time with him, but you know. Something shifted in me. I don´t think it´s about fun anymore. Not entirely. Akaashi, help! And we have met up again, not on purpose, but an accident. Is this fate? Yes? No? WHAT IS THIS? Help. Anyone, Konoha? Yukie? Kaori? Somebodyyy. Help.”

  It´s the beginning of their second year and Bokuto is forced to attend the museum of architecture and design for one of his courses. “Everyone bailed on me and I am supposed to stay focused all by myself? Not everything can be a dance, oh.” He stops at the entrance, deciding if he is leaving, when their eyes meet.

“What brings you here, Bokuto?” Kuroo asks, single ticket in his hand.

“Um, school.”

“Same.”

“Also involuntarily?”  

Kuroo frowns. “Nope, I like to trace stories. You?”

“Eh.”

Kuroo throws his hand over Bokuto´s shoulder, the kiss unmentioned but not forgotten. “You really can´t find your passion in this, can you?” Bokuto keeps quiet. “You know, you might need the right moment, that right incentive to get you hooked on your studies.”

“What if I don´t?”

“Then change it. Don´t force yourself into something you don´t want to do.”

“How did you find your moment?” Bokuto gets curious as they walk around the museum.

“I always knew. Not everyone is that lucky.”

Bokuto shrugs. “You really think I can find it?”

“Why did you choose this type of studies?”

“The design is-you take parts and make them whole. Those parts can work on its own, but not all of them can and they are better, stronger together. They complement each other.”

“Like a team,” Kuroo says dreamily.

“Like a team.”

“Then go on from there. Look for those parts everywhere you go, in every subject you have, then find what makes them great as a whole. The rest will come to you, hopefully.”

Bokuto stares at him in amazement. “You like storytelling, even without stories to tell, huh?”

“Are you complaining?” Kuroo smirks.

In another time with another person, Bokuto would go into a slump. He doesn´t. He suddenly feels safe and cared for around Kuroo, which is always a tough task to accomplish, usually done by Akaashi Keiji. Until today. Until the day they first saw each other. “Never,” Bokuto answers.

“Do you want to hear another story while we walk around?” Kuroo offers. “I can tell you about a man who lost his best friend and maybe even a love of his life in an accident. The toughest burden was seeing him even in his death. He spoke to him, he played with him, still loved him. And when he was told the truth, when he remembered the way he died, that he was present that day, he broke down more and more, until nothing of him was left. Then he forgot once more, unable to move on, unable to accept his lover´s demise. After everything, he went through, after being hospitalized, he kept seeing him, kept talking to him, didn´t understand the reasons for being held there. Even other people started doubting what he was truly seeing. Was his friend just a nightmare, daydream, imagination, or reality?”

Kuroo ends the story there, his stride slowing down. “Or do you want to hear the story of a man and his muse?”

 Bokuto follows Kuroo´s profile, eyes focusing on the lips, eyes watering. “Does it also end in a heartbreak? They all have that theme and I don´t know if I like it.”

“Maybe all these stories are stories of the same couple, trying to find a way to each other. In one lifetime at least. Maybe all these stories are connected.”

Bokuto feels the tear running down his face. “How?”

“To answer your first question, I don´t know. The muse is invisible, but the scientist can feel it´s there. He falls in love with it, just as the muse falls in love with him.” Kuroo turns to him, baring his teeth. “Come on, it´s just stories. Let´s have some fun, shall we?” Before he takes him away, Bokuto wipes his tears. “Koutaro?”

“Yeah?”

Kuroo cups one of his cheeks, the other hand stays on his left shoulder, watching him tentatively. “Don´t you think there is something beautiful about that image? Two souls searching for each other through galaxies and lifetimes, death and life?”

“No. Yes.” Bokuto´s fingers curl around Kuroo´s jacket. “I want to have that fun now, please.” They don´t let go for a while, Bokuto wishing for something more, this time with incentive on the other side.

Kuroo leans in, kissing his forehead.

  “Kuroo?” Their museum tour comes to an end, their paths untangling as they both have to take a different bus to their flats. “Uhm, I lost one of my bets couple of weeks ago. I am forced to visit a haunted house next month and I thought, you know, if you could keep me company?”

“Haunted house?” Kuroo seems amused.

“Unless you are scared?” Bokuto tries one of Kuroo´s tactics.

“Please,” Kuroo waves his hand. “I´ve seen stuff. Okay, text me an address and time.”

“Seriously?”

“No, I am planning to stand you up.” Kuroo doesn´t flinch as he tells the lie.

Bokuto´s mouth hangs open. “But-“

“Yes, seriously.” Kuroo can´t stop the incoming laugh.

“Good,” Bokuto mirrors Kuroo´s reaction. “We are on!”

At home, Bokuto goes through the memory snapshots, realizing he might have had the moment of passion for his studies right there at the museum.

The designs they saw, the stories he heard, that crazy tango dance they performed. Small parts, creating something bigger.

Bokuto´s mood rises up as he armors himself for their next adventure.

The haunted house.

  “Kenma, I think this is it. I am falling for him. I have no idea if he is falling for me, but some of the moves he lets me make, I don´t know. I don´t know. I would love to be suave with him, or just go for it and risk it. You know, I would probably expose one of the best friendships I ever got. It might not look like it, but he keeps me sane from all this school responsibilities. He is interesting, even at times when I simply don´t get him. He wakes up the silly in me, unlike the others. I thought I lost it forever, but he found it for me. I will have to meet that friend of his, as I heard, he is an expert on Bokuto´s antics. Kenma, Kenma, Kenma. We are going to a haunted house tomorrow, I will try to see if there is a chance. Kenma, Kenma. Help. Even Yaku´s opinion would be now welcomed…”

  “Stop, Bokuto, it´s nothing, see? A moth. A freaking moth!” Kuroo holds Bokuto´s hand, calming him down as he jumps for a hundredth time at any sound they hear. Kuroo examines the old house with one stairway leading upstairs, which both men tactically ignore as they document their journey with the phone, for Bokuto´s friends.

“How come you aren´t scared?”

Kuroo closes his eyes and counts to five. He is scared, unsure of what exactly. The house and its atmosphere, or Bokuto´s reactions? “It´s your mind playing with you. It´s told this house is haunted, but it-“ The creaking comes, adult men shriek unison and run outside as fast as they can.

“You said?” Bokuto holds his knees, close to crumbling.

Kuroo laughs like a crazy maniac. “We are one impossible couple, aren´t we?”

Bokuto joins him. “We are the best couple. Let´s sit over there.” He points to the basketball court and the swing big enough for three people at least. The place is empty, the owner a friend of their friend. “Why is that there?”

They notice the small shack right over the hill leading down to the small spring and a bridge. “I have no idea. You can do nothing in here.” They try to fit in, then come back to the swing.

“Is it or is it not haunted then? I would like to know, honestly.”

Kuroo shrugs. “I have no idea. When you go somewhere with a certain notion tattooed in your head, it´s hard to shake it off. If it´s entertaining-“

“Entertaining?” Bokuto slaps his thigh playfully. “Fun. My heart, I gained ten years to my lifespan.”

“What? Do you want to hear a story?” Kuroo tries, wondering if it still works.

Bokuto stops being so frantic and nods. “If you still have any.”

“Plenty.” They smile. “It revolves around friends and lovers again. Sometime in the past, they met as children and grew up to become an inseparable item. Before they could act upon their feelings, one of them got sick, hereditary condition. The other pleaded for him to be saved for so long, that someone listened to his pleas. Either angel, or the devil, you can choose, the story doesn´t specify this. The man is willing to give it everything and so he does. His lover lives, but with one obstacle. One changes into an owl through the night, the other changes into a cat through the day. They catch glimpses of each other at the moment of transformation, only for a short second. When it´s too much, the owl pleads once more and the angel, devil arrives, granting his wish to turn everything back as it was before. The man changing into an owl becomes sick again, the man changing into a cat becomes his caretaker. They live as fully as they can, while they can.”

“How much time they had together?” Bokuto whispers.

Kuroo doesn´t know. “Ten days or ten years or even hundred.”

“Are those stories of yours real or made up?” Bokuto´s question comes as a shock to the both. “You speak of it so realistically.”

Kuroo never thought of it this way. “I don´t know. They have to be inspired by something, right?”

The night falls, their gazes follow the moon and stars.

“Why these stories?”

Kuroo feels Bokuto´s fingers creeping closer to him. “They pull me in. I can understand them in a way I can´t express. They are mesmerizing to me.”

“Yeah.” Kuroo turns to him, surprised by those words. “I felt the same way from the moment I heard the first story. It´s like-“

Ours, Kuroo thinks without wording the thought out loud.

“It makes me feel sad, but full at the same time. It´s weird, I know.” Bokuto moves to open the space between them. Kuroo´s heart beats faster, he can feel his skin getting hot with disappointment.

“Did I do something wrong?” Why are you so far from me? I want you closer. So close I could breathe you in, so close I could fuse with you.

Bokuto lowers his gaze, not fully on Kuroo. “You did nothing wrong. But-I think I might be suffocating being by your side.” He says it so quietly it´s almost inaudible.

But Kuroo hears them and Kuroo understands them. “May I?”

Bokuto doesn´t ask for elaboration, affirms the intention.

It´s Kuroo´s turn to kiss him. Before their lips collide, Bokuto jumps and Kuroo gulps loudly.

“I think I saw something,” Bokuto admits. “It had to be the story you told me, sorry, sorry.”

Kuroo stared at him, blood running cold. “I saw something too. I kept quiet, because I thought my mind is playing tricks on me.”

Their stares follow the basketball hoop and the path that the “something” went to.

“Shit!” Kuroo yells as he sees the glimpse of a white light with heights of a person, walking right behind the little shack and towards the cottages not too far away from their backs.

“You saw it too? I thought it´s me who imagines things this time!”

Kuroo squeezes his hand. “Calm down, it´s nothing. Tell me what you saw, maybe it was a play of light or I don´t know. Wait, my phone.” He puts the flashlight on. There is nothing, only the road and stream running. “It might have been that road sign, right?”

“How? There is no light that could be reflected there and it´s too low.” Bokuto is shaking, sign for Kuroo to keep him closer.

“Before we panic, describe it to me.”

“Bright and white. As tall as Akaashi, so somewhere around the bottom of the roof of that shack. It went from right to left, I would say it was a woman, a scarf or hoodie on her head?”

There is no way it can be so detailed for both of them. Kuroo feels too cold. “Um, I am sorry, but I saw the same thing. Exactly.”

They look to each other horrified, breathing heavily, trying to calm themselves.

“You know what?” Kuroo breaks the silence first. “I think we should stand up and get back to the place where the owner lives. It´s just behind the haunted house itself, so it won´t be a problem, right?”

“Right.”

They stand up, holding each other tightly. “Let´s go slowly, there´s no need for any more-“

And so they run as fast as never before.

  “What?” they shriek when the owner named Ukai nods vehemently, taking out another cigarette.

“Yep, I saw it too. As I walked my dog, there was a light between those bushes, it went your way. I am not very surprised, you are not the first ones to report this.” Ukai lit up his cigarette, completely collected.

Kuroo and Bokuto bow in unison, then get as far as they can from that terrifying place. They don´t stop until they reach the city. “It´s late,” Bokuto complains. “I need to go home, I have some other-“

Kuroo doesn´t wait anymore. He leans in for the stolen kiss from before. Bokuto doesn´t budge. He surprises him with a gentle kisses and strokes on the back, arms, right in between the hair. “Thank you,” Kuroo breathes out when they stop.

“No, thank you,” Bokuto admits through his teeth.

“Are you okay? I know I-“

“Never better.” Bokuto smiles at him. “I wasn´t sure so I didn´t make another move.”

I wasn´t sure either, Kuroo thinks, not needing to say it to him. They know now and that´s enough.

“If you need a place to stay, I live close by. My roommate won´t mind.” Kuroo stops himself. “I didn´t mean-“

“I know. But I wouldn´t say no either way. Lead the way, please, I am tired.” Bokuto commands, leaving Kuroo speechless for the first time. He complies.

They spend the night talking, then spend the day kissing. For a while, they don´t care about any responsibilities they have. It´s a dance they share again, although it´s a dance of hearts and souls, making it a tango, jive, or even a flamingo.

It´s everything and a pinch more.

With the second night incoming, their kisses change into hugs and touches, the naked skin on skin, goose bumps all over their bodies, the moans and passion hurdling out of their throats.

And when it all ends, Bokuto lays in Kuroo´s bed covered in his sheets almost from head to toe like a burrito, while Kuroo cleans him softly with care, making him the most desired and most cherished person in the world.

Bokuto repays him with a bear hug. Kuroo curls himself in, falling asleep feeling safe and comforted.

  “It´s a dance”, Bokuto whispers.

“It´s a dance,” Kuroo agrees as they meet at the old castle to learn about other stories.

They dance between the cobwebs, unbothered by stares of other people. They dance between the flowers as they visit the famous botanic garden, they dance in the rain when Bokuto sees the weather and goes outside without a raincoat or any other proper clothes. They dance anywhere they can, the lack of music unable to stop them.

“Bokuto,” Kuroo whispers after waking up in the middle of a night, thirsty. He watches him from the doorway, buried in blankets, looking like a mermaid. The silence fills up the room, but the buzzing thoughts cut through the darkness like a bolt, blinding Kuroo´s eyes and deafening Bokuto´s ears.

“I got the scholarship for studies abroad. I got it last month, I couldn´t tell you. I-“ I am not ready for a long distance relationship. “I can´t do that. I have too much to give. I would die otherwise, but I don´t want to miss this opportunity. I know your answer. I know you´d let me go. I, myself, don´t know. Do you remember how I talked about that moment that hooks you to something? Well, I got that moment with you. What do I do now?” He bumps his head into the wall, wishing for it to hurt so much more than his heart.

“I don´t want for this to become part of stories I like to tell,” he adds as he sits down close to his face, watching him, adoring him. “Bokuto. I love you so much. Should we wait and see if it´s meant to be? Should we try? Should we let it go?”

The morning sun shines on Kuroo´s messy head right beside Bokuto. He fell asleep in the sitting position from the night before, Kuroo´s neck hurting as hell. “Ouch.”

“That´s what you get when you don´t speak to me when I am awake,” Bokuto informs him like it´s nothing.

It takes too long for Kuroo to understand. “You heard me.”

“No, not really,” Bokuto admits and prepares the hot water, black coffee for Kuroo, hot chocolate for him. “I know about that scholarship. I saw the papers. Also, you mentioned it when we first talked.”

“You remember?”

“Of course.” Bokuto smiles. “I remember a lot, you´d be surprised.”

“Yes, I would.” Kuroo waits for any reaction, scared to death.

Bokuto sits down. “I only heard your last words in the bed, so I figured what it must mean. I am not that silly. And-we are in college. I didn´t expect anything big out of this, don´t worry.” He waves his hand. “You said it yourself. This is big opportunity you have. My friend Akaashi did the same and he is so happy. It´s not like we are dying, you know? I say, go for it. If we still want it later, we will find each other. If not, then why the regret?” Bokuto touches his face, kisses his nose, forehead, those cheeks, that soft mouth of his.

“Why are you the calm one?”

  “He leaves me, Akaashi. He leaves me, but I choose to believe if it´s meant to be, we will meet again. I need to be strong for him. And I know it´s meant to be. Right?”

Bokuto holds back the tears. Because this time, you can´t be. And if I don´t try, I will crumble and never get up. “I heard your stories. I was ready. I am ready.” I am not.

“Do you want to hear the last one?” Kuroo asks before his train leaves.

“Please.”

“This is a pleasant one. There are two heist groups. One of the biggest one in the area, maybe even the country. They once meet at the same place, going for the same heist, their leaders getting stuck together. The teams have to cooperate, both so different it´s almost impossible, but they manage. They come out safe, but after that meeting, something changes. The leaders fall in love, slowly but surely. Well, maybe it´s not that slow. They get married, but they-“ Kuroo doesn’t finish the story, the train arrives.

“See you later,” Bokuto hugs him, unsure if he is able to let him go.

“See you.” Kuroo gets in, their farewell short, unbearable.

“I love you,” Bokuto yells as the doors close and the train moves.

Kuroo smirks, Bokuto winks.

  “I left him, Kenma. I left it all there with him, I hope I might collected it one day, if he lets me. If I´ll still want to. It hurts, Kenma.”

  “Akaashi, you won´t believe what just happened.”

 “Kenma, it´s been two years. This is a miracle.”

“We won´t be the part of those stories.”

“Right?”

  Bokuto attends the first conference of architecture and design managed by the museum he visited with Kuroo once. It was good for his job, good for his resume. The event was divided into three other parts, loosely connected, one of them focused on the historical aspects of the architecture and design. It reminded him of-

Shock spreads across Bokuto´s face. He wasn´t the only one thinking like this.

It takes them three and a half second to notice each other across the room. Those silver hair with black streaks and golden eyes of bird of a prey. That messy dark hair with hazel eyes and sly moves, waiting. For a couple of moments, everything else disappears.

Kuroo cackles and smirks, holding his honest reaction in for the sake of seriousness of this occasion.

Bokuto winks, pointing towards the door. “Oy, let me have a drink,” he decides before heading out.

There is nothing cinematic in their meeting. It´s intimate, the silence shared between the two of them only. They hug tightly, reassuring themselves it´s real.

It is.

“Do you have another story?” Bokuto says as he cleans his teary face into Kuroo´s suit who doesn´t mind in a slightest.

“Plenty,” Kuroo grins. They walk away, Kuroo talking. “There was this cursed man caught by thorns, lost in the middle of nowhere. There was another man, bringing with him feeling of spring and sprouting anywhere he went. He knew nothing of his past, he had no memories with one exception. He was always looking for something or someone. No one knew him, no one was able to help him until the moment he stumbled upon the man in the thorns. He watched him knowingly. This is it. His intuition screamed at him - this is what you are looking for. He leans into him, bringing the feeling of beginning to him. The man picks up red tulips to show him how much he cares. The other man, the one in thorns, blooms the peony in the palm of his hand, his body been freed from the curse and the pain of thorns in his skin.”

Bokuto listens so carefully, he forgets to breathe. Kuroo notices, that´s when he nudges him lovingly with fingers around his hips.

“They both get free. Their memories don´t come back, but their feelings do. The thorn man was leaving peonies wherever he stepped, the savior could be traced by tulips. When they hugged, both flowers fell to the ground mixed together, becoming one. Peony the sign of a happy marriage, the tulip sign of a perfect love. No one knew how long they lived before, no one knew how long they lived after. They knew one thing - how much they love each other. They never stopped, with memories or without them. They found each other when they got lost and it was all that mattered to them.”

“Are we part of those stories of yours?” Bokuto asks the burning question.

They stop in their tracks, amazed by the cathedral rising in front of them. Kuroo takes his hand. “Only time will tell.”

Kuroo Tetsurou and Bokuto Koutaro step in smiling, laughing, dancing like no one´s watching.

The rest is their future, the rest is a history.

No matter the path, no matter the end.

They will find each other, their universe is forever shared.

 Notes: 

The stories Kuroo tells are mine (all on AO3, most of them used in Bokuroo Week). This is the connection I mentioned in the prompt for a first day :) It will be shown in a better light on day 6, but you don´t have to read it, of course. 

The story at the haunted house is from my own experience :) 

Thank you for your time!

[like-a-bag-of-potatoes]

Woman of Letters - Part Six

A/N: Part 6. Betaed by the magnificent @thorne93

Summary:  When Louisa finds an old, unopened letter from her great grandfather, she leaves her old life behind to go search for a man named Henry Winchester, hoping he has some answers for her. What she finds is beyond her wildest imagination, but she is determined to continue her family’s legacy.

Characters: Dean, Sam, Louisa (OFC)

Warnings: None.

Wordcount: 1394

CATCH UP HERE

It had been about two months since Louisa moved into the bunker with the Winchesters. She was slowly making her way through every book in the massive library at the same time that Sam was teaching her how to fight. She was a fast learner and already had a good grip on the basic hand to hand combat. She was so grateful for Sam's patience with her so she kept thanking him with homemade meals every night. She always sat a plate for Dean as well, but he never showed. The disappointment on her face when she realized Dean wouldn't join them, didn't go unnoticed by Sam and frankly it was starting to piss him off, he hated that she was upset. Louisa had been loyal to her word, Dean had asked her to stay out of his way and she did, as far as Sam knew, they hadn't even said more than a couple of words to each other.

“So.. You never told me what you do.. Did for a living,” Sam stated as he helped himself to a second helping.

Louisa hadn't really thought about how little they had talked about themselves, it was always evil monsters in some shape or form, but it felt nice to push that aside and talk about normal things. “I used to be a highschool history teacher, but before I came here I worked as a waitress.”

“Wow.. Why did you quit teaching?” he asked between mouthfuls.

“Apparently the school had a strict ‘don't sleep with the students’ rule.” Louisa had to force back her laughter as Sam almost choked on his food. The expression on his face was priceless. “I'm joking. I'm a huge history nerd, I really am, but it turns out teaching isn't as much rewarding as it is infuriating. So I quit.”

“You almost killed me,” Sam coughed which made Louisa erupt into laughter.

“I'm not even sorry.” She grinned, showing of all those pearly whites. “You should have seen your face, dude.”

After Sam was done coughing up the food that went in the wrong pipe the two of them fell into easy conversation. It was always effortless between them, even if Louisa was a lot like Dean, she shared some of Sam's qualities as well. They could spend hours arguing over fictional characters, they enjoyed the same kinds of movies and books and Sam loved that she could challenge him. Also, she wasn't a bad student for a teacher.

She had just started cleaning up when Dean walked into the kitchen, a glimmer of hope in her voice as she told him there was more food if he was hungry.

“Not why I'm here,” he answered flatly, barely acknowledging her presence before addressing his brother. “We have a case. Garth just called with a simple salt and burn a few towns over.”

Louisa cleaned up the kitchen as the brothers hurried around the bunker, getting themselves ready. She followed them to the garage to say goodbye when they were ready to leave. She always got this pit in her stomach when they left for a hunt, scared something would happen to them. She leaned up on her toes to wrap her hands around Sam's neck, giving him a tight hug which he reciprocated. He liked the idea of having someone waiting for him at home, even though there was nothing more than friendship between them.

“Stay safe,” she said as they opened the doors, ready to jump in the car. Sam worded a ‘will do’ but from Dean there was no response. “That means you too, Dean.” He still didn't say anything, but his green eyes met her blue ones for a brief moment as he gave her a short nod. Well at least it was something, she shrugged before walking back inside the bunker.

She wandered aimlessly around the bunker for a while, not knowing what to do with herself now that she was alone. She walked to her room to grab the book she was currently reading, thinking that a good book and a beer would be a great way to spend her evening. On her way back from her room however, her attention was drawn to Dean's room. He always kept his door closed, but now it was slightly ajar. She had never seen the inside of his room, and now she fought herself not to enter. She looked up and down the hallway, shaking her head at her own stupidity, and then entered his room.

She wasn't exactly sure what she was expecting to find in his room, but for some reason it was tidier than she imagined. His bed was made up army style with a few choice weapons on a shelf behind it and a copy of ‘Moby Dick’ on his nightstand. Her brows furrowed as she lifted the book, she hadn't pegged him for a reader. Her eyes was drawn to something that lay hidden underneath the book. She picked up the latest issue of ‘Busty Asian Beauties’.

“That's more like it,” she chuckled as she carefully placed the magazine and the book back to where she had found them.

She turned towards the small desk that stood against one of the walls. His room was exactly like her own, right down to the little lamp on the desk, but Dean had definitely put his own touch on the place. On his desk where a stack of old rock albums and an old typewriter with the paper still in it, the lamp on the desk was the same as hers, but it was the small picture propped up against it that caught her interest. She carefully picked it up, the image was faded and a thin line down the middle of it told her that it had been folded up for quite some time. She traced her finger from the beautiful blonde woman down to the little boy by her side. The kid couldn't have been more than four years old, but Louisa would have recognized those emerald green eyes anywhere. There was no doubt in her mind that that was Dean and his mother. She carefully put the picture back in its place and picked her book back up before exiting the room. Just then realizing what a massive breach of privacy she had just done. She padded back to her own, empty room and threw herself on the bed. She had thought Dean distanced himself from her because he didn't like her, but now she wondered if it was more than that. She remember Sam telling her about some of the friends and family members they had lost over the years, and now she was thinking that Dean not letting her closer to him was some sort of defence mechanism. Her heart broke for him, for both of them. All the loss they had lived through.

**

Louisa was on Dean's mind on the drive back to the bunker. As Garth had said, it was an easy salt and burn, so they had decided to drive back instead of wasting money on a motel. He had barely spoken to her in the two months she had been living with them in the bunker, and when he did he was always rude. It was a mixture of what had happened in the kitchen earlier and how she had said goodbye to them that played through his mind as he drove. She had set a plate for him, even though she must know by now that he wouldn't be joining them, and even with the way he had brushed her off she had still told him goodbye and to stay safe. He had looked into her crystal blue eyes right before they left and there was nothing there but genuine concern. How could she possibly care for him when he had given her every reason not to. God she was annoying.

“How’s Louisa’s training going?” he asked his brother. If he had turned to look at Sam he would have seen how completely taken off guard Sam was by his question.

Sam considered for a moment if he should call Dean out on it, but decided to stick to answering his question. “She’s doing good. She’s a fast learner and she has great natural instinct. Why do you ask?”

“Just making conversation.” Dean shrugged.

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