25 years old Akaashi Keiji is Japan's most affluent prodigy designer. He has got both men and women swooning over Him.

His seemingly unruly hair, eyebrows on fleek, sharp, metallic eyes, lean body and heck, this expression of His...Emotionless, exasperated even.

He is a flawless, yet intimidating persona. Or at least, his huge fanbase perceives him as such.

26 years old Bokuto Koutarou is a barista at The Hoot Cafe. He knows these people have got it all wrong.

The Hoot Cafe is nocturnal, opening at 8PM and closing around 10AM. It gathers desperate students and corporate slaves, craving for salvation that is strong, well-brewed coffee. Law students don't need sleep, right? It's extremely busy around 10PM and 5AM. But between that...between that time Koutarou meets Keiji.

Not in a fancy suit, not in those leather pants that do his ass so good. The god of fashion approaches Bokuto in an oversized hoodie and ugly grey sweatpants. He puts the hood over his head to avoid being spotted, obviously. A room full of tired zombies is still dangerous, Bokuto concludes. And the barista is the only one who actually gets to see Akaashi's tired expression.

Tonight is no different.

The designer looks him square in the eye and nods. A shiver crawls down Bokuto's spine, like always. It's a silent signal between a threat and a plea of "Don't you rat me out", like always. The man uses that husky voice of his to utter the order. That's unnecessary, really, since it's the same thing, like always. Coffee, black, no sugar, no milk. Bokuto shudders. "Disgusting".

He hands Akaashi his cup, plain, not signed.

He still remembers the first time, when he wrote Akaashi's name on the side. He didn't have to ask for it, because who wouldn't recognize the fashion prodigy?

He saw the man glare at the cup as if it murdered his whole familly. Keiji loomed over the counter, extended his hand towards Bokuto's and whispered:

"I need my hideout, and some people would rummage through garbage to find me. Don't ever do that again...please". There was something oddly sexual in that request.

At the bat of these ridiculously long, dark eyelashes, the barista lost all his wit and smuginess. He only bowed and murmured a silent "I'm sorry, Akaashi".

He felt the stare clinging to his face long after the man left the cafe.

Shit, he adressed him so carelessly. Without an honorific. Koutarou's face went white. But to think of it...it had a nice ring to it. Akaashi, Akaashi, Akaashi.

Tonight, at 2AM the designer eyes his cup thoughtfully. It's his fourth visit in the cafe, not that Bokuto counted or something. The third time that he stays inside, not that Bokuto counted that either. But he doesn't charge towards the faraway corner, since the lonesome little table for one seems to be occupied by a former med student Akaashi, to his horror, recognizes.

He quickly scans the coffee shop and finds no safe place. With a distressed click of his tongue he decides that may be his cue to leave.

Until a big, warm hand on his elbow stops him. The brunette turns around, his eyes trail over the hands, muscular arms and broad shoulders, to stop on a red face.

-"Akaashi, Sit on the barstool, here by the counter. I won't bother you."

Said man raises his eyebrows.

Bokuto figured he won't get much talking out of him, so he shrudges his shoulders.

-"Listen, I saw you drawing something, so I guess this place gives you some artistic vibes and shit..."- He scratches his neck nervously-"...also, the counter is clean and you can sit with your back to everyone."

Keiji blinks once, twice, bewildered.

And surprisingly, he complies.

Somewhere between polishing tall glasses and brewing a fancy caffè latte with an owl drawn on the foam, Bokuto hears a soft "I'd rather you sticked to honorifics, but...Thank you, Bokuto-san" from behind his back. He smiles and fixes his name-tag absentmindedly, proud of his bold nature for once.

Tonight, at 2:34AM Bokuto is not only the one to see a stressed out, not-so-perfect Akaashi Keiji. He is also the one to steal glances at...ARE THOSE FEATHERS?

Half an hour ago, the designer pulled out an old fashioned sketchbook and various drawing utensils. And yes, they are unmistakably, feathers. Very detailed, formed like a collar on a fancy looking coat. To add, those were definitely owl feathers. To come up with something like that at an owl-themed cafe, the barista chuckled.

-"It is rude to stare, you know?" - Bokuto paled at the huff and raised his gaze from the project to meet a pair of steel eyes he has grown weirdly accustomed to.

The barista quickly composed himself and brought a cheeky smile to his face.

-"Borrowing ideas, huh? I knew you fell in love with this place after all! I knew it!".

Akaashi frowned.

-'It is not illegal, and it is not stealing. Also, the word you are looking for is inspiration." - He then lowered his voice, a crazy glint in his eye. - "This is my great scheme for this year's autumn-winter collection. White, black and various browns and beiges meshed together, feathers and wool. All that on oversized hoodied coats, glamorous. Owls are majestic, are they not?- Bokuto keeps staring at the other man, shocked beyond belief as Keiji keeps blabbering about his vision, and owls, and coffee, and actualy POINTS his sketchbook at him, displaying a cutesy little drawing in the corner. It's the owl he created on somebody's coffee, recreated on paper. The fashionista finally catches his companion's bewildered gaze and clears his throat, composing himself, then quickly eyes the cafe. Thankfully, the clients are mostly half-dead or occupied with their work, eyes on their laptops and notebooks.

Bokuto notes the fact that his new acquaintance didn't deny "falling in love with the place".

He also notes a very new experience.

Akaashi Keiji, excited, with flaming cheeks and fire in his usually dead eyes. Hell, those eyes were even prettier when they shone like that.

-to-san?

And he observed Bokuto at work! These owls were practically indentical.

-kuto-san?

Koutarou shivered. He wanted to know more about this man, wanted to hear more of this beautiful voice, thick with emotion.

"-Bokuto-san?" Koutarou finally focuses his eyes on elegant, long fingers impatiently snapping ten centimeters from his face. Something seems off on Keiji's face too.

-"You kind of...dozed off. I'm going to take my leave now." - He bowes politely and gathers his belongings.

-"Akaashi! - he says, in a hushed tone, not to disturb the clients. - My shift lasts from eight o'clock till three o'clock every night. Feel free to come and draw."

To sweeten the night, Bokuto experiences another miracle. His companion smiles.

-"See you then, Bokuto-san."

Keiji leaves.

At 3:10AM Bokuto greets a certain out-of-breath-and-10-minutes-late-for-his-shift co-worker, wishes him the best of luck, and rushes to his little apartement. For a second he wants to ask about Suga's tired expression, but shakes it off.

He opens the door as quietly as possible, not to disturb his...as Bokuto lays lifelessly on his bed, he contemplates just that. What is Shouyou to him? Still a nephew, or already a son?

When Kasumi and her husband unexpectedly deceased, killed in a car crash, there were no possible foster parents on the man's side. Heck, Koutarou wouldn't allow that.

Shouyou is a sweet kid. Kinda overly energetic, what gets him trouble in preschool, but Kou does everything to help him spend that energy. The five-year-old desperately wanted to be taught everything Bokuto knew about volleyball. Literally. Everything.

And so they practice a lot.

Laying in bed face-down onto the pillow, he braces himself for yet another crazy day.

1)Wake up at 7 (scratch that, get woken up by a ginger fluff ball jumping on his stomach), 2)Take Shouyou to preschool (scrath that, DRAG Shouyou to preschool),

3)Attend his Volleyball practice at Fukurodani (He still does that, and kids from the highschool absolutely adore him, putting him high above their own coach, asking "The living legend Ace of Fukurodani" for tips, completely disregarding sensei Miyamoto in the process),

4) Cook a diner for two and take (DRAG) Shouyou back from preschool,

5) Go to the park with his...son (Bokuto smiles against the pillow) and play some volleyball

6) Make sure Shouyou takes a proper bath (Oh god) and falls asleep (Oh Goodness Gracious)

7) Open the cafe at 8PM and hopefully, meet Akaashi once again.

With that list in mind, Koutarou falls into slumber with a huge grin on his face.

-"Whoa, Akaashi, you look like absolute shit." - Keiji's eyes narrow and he answers with that icy cold tone of his.

-"Fancy seeing you too, Bokuto-san."

To be honest, he knows it's true. His hair is a mess, his eyes are adorned with huge, dark circles, and he hasn't slept in...well, he has certainly lost count.

He instantly feels better though, as a cup full of steaming coffee is placed before him.

Bokuto propps himself up with his elbows and shamelessly half-lays on the countertop.

-"I still don't understand How you can drink it. Isn't it bitter? I could make you a nice drink with loads of milk, toffee syrup, or even an owl made with foam!" - a wiggle of eyebrows - "A pumpkin spice latte on the house, perhaps?"

There it goes again. A twitch of that slender eyebrow. A gentle scowl.

-"Coffee is not supposed to be a candy. It is power in it's rawest form, a kick of energy to survive yet another dire day."- Keiji hums.

-"You become all poetic when you're pissed or excited. It happened last night, too." - Bokuto blurts out of the blue.

They both fall silent for a moment, and it's an awkward silence on the outside. Inside his brain, on the other hand, Koutarou happily stores all this new information about Akaashi's quirks and traits.

The other busies himself with the sketchbook, highly affected by those words. Every once in a while he steals glances at his companion, especially those muscles flexing as he scrubs leftovers from a pumpkin pie (Who orders that around midnight, honestly). A quick sketch appears on the smooth paper before Akaashi can stop himself.

Mortified, he mutters quick goodbyes to Bokuto's disdain and abandons the barstool, accidentaly knocking somebody's shoulder. An apologetic bow, and he's gone.

"Tch, That bastard didn't even look me in the eye. And I swear I've seen him here a couple of times already. Who does he think he is, a master of stealth?" - Oikawa smirks as he slowly makes his way towards the bar, slightly wobbling on his cane. There, he frowns.

-"Oi, Owl-head, it's well past three. Why isn't he here already?" - he whines childishly.

Bokuto blinks once, twice, then glances at the ugly clock above the entrance.

A quarter past three. Suga is late. Again.

-"What is your issue with Sugawara anyway? You are not one of these creepy stalkers, are you?" - Bokuto eyes Oikawa suspiciously, suddenly protective of his colleague. He is met with an odd expression.

-"There's something about this guy that makes you wanna talk to him, you know? He is all bubbly and shiny, and, ugh...smiley, it kinda makes me sick. But he has been pretty under the weather recently. And I'm a curious, nosy guy."

The barista's face drops. He totally either hasn't noticed or disregarded anything off about Koushi and it scared him. Suga was a god of disguise and masking his problems. He would just start asking questions and divert the topic of the conversation from himself.

Kou felt like a horrible friend.

Oikawa spreads his arms childishly and speaks in a sing-song manner.

-"Of course you haven't noticed. As dense as ever, Bo-ku-to-chaaan."- He taps Bokuto's nose playfully.

-"At least I'm not a creep" - They share shit-eating grins, with devious glints in their eyes.

Their bickering is however interrupted by a jangle of keys at the back entrance.

-"Suga-chan!" - Oikawa greets Koushi with an enthusiastic wave.

The smile dies on his lips as soon as he takes a proper look at this angelic face, with reddish, glassy eyes.

-"S-Suga?"- Bokuto places his hand on Koushi's arm and the latter flinches.

-Ah, sorry, Just a little stressed out about everything, Tobio-chan is sick. I won't come late ever again, promise. I'm actually moving about a little closer from here. Our Cafe is getting more and more popular after all, right?" - His smile is forced and painful for Tooru to watch.

-"You're moving out of your house? What about Minako and Tobio?"- Bokuto asks.

A shadow skips past Sugawara's face. He clasps his hands together feigning excitement and exclaims.

-"Tobio is moving with me and changing preschools as well, I hope he and Shouyou will become best of friends!"

Fortunately for him, it calms Bokuto down.

-"Yeah! I Gotta show him some epic volleyball moves like the most badass uncle ever is supposed to!"

Then Koutarou excuses himself, grabs his coat and rushes outside,

"As dense as a London fog. Why must I always fix the world on my own? That's what you get for being the curious, nosy guy". Oikawa shakes his head in exasperation.

Propping his cane against the barstool recently occupied by Akaashi, he sits on it with some difficulty and orders a disgustingly sweet Freddo coffee with extra caramel.

As Suga hands him the hell-spawn-of-a-drink, he leans on the counter and casually asks.

-"So, sugar baby...you come here often?" - He bats his eyelids and grins at Koushi's mortified face. He then bursts into laughter at the sight. Surprisingly, Koushi giggles too, and it's as if all the tension from before was relieved instantly.

His laughter is sweet and soft, like the sound of tinkling bells, Oikawa thinks.

The barista swats him lightly on the head and turns to a new client, obviously a student near his finals. One americano later, his attention turns back to Tooru, who observed him all this time with a trademark smirk number 5

-"What was that about, anyway?" - he frowns at his weird companion's faked innocence.

-"I simply wanted to make you smile. Is that illegal?"