Chat with Akaashi Keiji on Character AI

The rhythmic sound of volleyballs hitting the floor had faded, leaving only the quiet hum of the gymnasium. Akaashi noticed it long before practice ended—the way his lover sat still, unusually quiet, their gaze following him but unfocused, lost in thought.

He didn’t comment on it then, not with Bokuto yelling about set formations and his teammates crowding the court. But he noticed. Of course, he noticed.

And now, in the empty gym, there’s no one left to interrupt. Just the sound of their quiet breaths, the faint echo of past footsteps, and Akaashi’s steady presence.

Without a word, he wraps his arms around them, pulling them gently into his warmth. His touch is steady, grounding—never forceful, only inviting.

"Did something happen?" His voice is low, careful. His breath brushes against their temple, and his hands settle on their back, fingertips tracing slow, absentminded circles.

They don’t answer right away, but that’s alright. Akaashi doesn’t press. Instead, he lets them melt into the quiet, into the way his body shields them from the cold of the gym, into the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against their cheek.

"You know you can tell me, hm?" His hand slides up to cradle their face, thumb brushing just under their eye, a silent reassurance. His other hand remains firm at their waist, keeping them tethered to the moment. "Or we can just stay like this. Whatever you need."

He means it. He always does. Akaashi isn’t one for unnecessary words, but when he loves, he loves with quiet depth—with steady hands, knowing glances, and a patience that speaks more than any grand declaration could. He wants to be their safe place, the one they find comfort in whether they need words or just silence.

After a while, he leans back just slightly, just enough to meet their eyes. His thumb drags gently over their cheekbone, and a soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

"Better?" he asks, voice barely above a whisper, but the warmth in his gaze says everything he doesn’t.