Work Text:
Winter this year sure is shaping up to be frosty, Bokuto thinks as he blinks away the snowflakes landing in his eyelashes; hand shoved in his coat pocket. His other hand is clasped tightly with Akaashi's, who is currently burying his chin, lips and nose into the heavy scarf draped around his neck. It was a birthday gift from his grandmother; hand knit with rich, earthy tones, to "Always keep you grounded." Bokuto has always loved the way it compliments Akaashi– the weight and dark palette of the fabric providing stark contrast against the porcelain curve of the boy's slender neck.
As he watches Akaashi breathe through the heavy fabric, Bokuto feels the edges of his mouth turn upwards at the small puffs of clouds produced by the boy's breath. It's endearing, the way Akaashi scowls against the cold, as if he's been deeply betrayed by the weather. All things considered, the entire country kind of has been, Bokuto thinks, but nonetheless, the expression on his companion's face make's his stomach swoop, and he finds himself bumping shoulders with the boy, who returns the gesture with a sideways glare.
"What do you want?" is the muffled accompaniment to the look, and Bokuto barks out a laugh.
"You sound like you have fifty cotton balls stuffed up your nose!" The silver haired boy snorts out, laughter cut off by a yelp as the warmth of Akaashi's hand leaves his.
"That's what you get." Akaashi grumbles, but he's holding his hand against his mouth, not immune to the sudden shock of cold air against his skin either, regardless of his icy demeanor. The juxtaposition makes Bokuto cackle more, making grabby gestures in front of Akaashi's face until the dark haired boy huffs, rolling his eyes.
He doesn't complain as Bokuto takes his hand back.
The two continue along the footpath silently, hand in hand as their arms swing between them (Bokuto's doing, of course). Under the gentle glow of the streetlights, Bokuto's silvery horns of hair are illuminated, and Akaashi finds himself glancing over to marvel at the sight before a smug looking cat resting on a stone fence sets the owlish figure off, and he starts relaying some wild story about what he and Kuroo got up to on the weekend. He talks animatedly about trolley surfing and racing down hills and 'you should have been there Akaashi we nearly died!!' And Akaashi listens to the story with a bemused expression, watching his hurricane of a human whirl around, demonstrating some weird move he tried to pull off in the trolley, apparently.
The way Bokuto's entire being lights up at the telling of the tale makes Akaashi's heart skip a beat, and he wonders whether maybe he has a heart murmur, because surely this golden eyed boy with the ridiculous hair and dramatic nature can't be affecting him – cool, calm, collected Akaashi – this way. The thought makes his lips twitch, the dynamic of their relationship amusing him to no end.
Eventually they come up to an intersection, and Akaashi is glad he's holding Bokuto's hand because the boy is still jumping around making 'whoosh' noises, completely oblivious to his surroundings.
"Bokuto-san-- " Akaashi starts, meaning to scold his actual five year old of a partner, but before he can finish, Bokuto has bounced back, tilting his head up and pressing a quick kiss against Akaashi's cheek, lips disconnecting from his face with an over exaggerated kiss sound. Bokuto is grinning when he falls back; golden eyes almost pinched shut from the pull of his cheeks. Akaashi stares for a moment, eyes wide and mouth slack before seeming to snap out of his stupor and looking away, muttering a terse "You're embarrassing."
Bokuto simply hums happily to himself, grin never faltering as Akaashi's head turns again, trying (and failing) to glare at the grinning boy before him.
"You know one day I'm not going to be holding your hand and you're going to get hit by a car and die and I will not throw flowers on your coffin." He deadpans.
Bokuto raises his hand (and Akaashi's, incidentally) to his chest in mock shock, gasping as though he's just been told a scandalous secret.
"I can't believe you would be so mean, Akaashi!" He wails, and Akaashi looks at him blankly before pressing the button to cross the road, pulling his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. As he looks down, tapping away at the screen, part of his scarf is upset, falling away partly to reveal a strip of pale skin between the curl of his hairline and the bulk of the material.
He's preoccupied with his phone now, not noticing the way Bokuto has suddenly gone quiet, jaw slack and eyes wide as he stares at the spot on Akaashi's neck with an incredulous expression.
If Akaashi were to look over at him now, he would notice the way the flecks of caramel in his eyes are almost swimming as they sweep over the strip of flesh, pale and inviting.
If Akaashi were to look over at him now, he would notice the way Bokuto's breath hitches, as though he’s swallowed a bubble of air, Adam’s apple bobbing as he tries to swallow against a completely dry mouth.
If Akaashi were to look over at Bokuto – but he doesn't – and Bokuto feels himself shift, standing on the balls of his feet as he pushes away stray curls of hair and presses his mouth against the exposed skin there, not noticing the way Akaashi goes completely rigid.
The light turns green, but neither of the boys moves as Bokuto falls back onto flat feet, breathing out a whispered "How are you real?"
Akaashi turns slowly now, eyes wide and face a deep shade of scarlet.
"Bokuto San." he says, closing his eyes and staying that way for a moment, before Bokuto pokes him in the side and huffs a blunt, "The light turned green, Akaashi."
That's all it takes, and Akaashi snaps out of his daze, squeezing Bokuto's hand once, hard, before moving to cross the road in long strides, all but dragging his owlish companion along with him.
The smile on Bokuto's face hurts it's so wide, and he laughs as Akaashi pointedly avoids looking him in the eye, face turning redder the longer Bokuto's laughter echoes along the street.
"You're so quick to get all flustered!" He notes gleefully, yelping once more when Akaashi wrenches his hand from the boy, muttering something about 'stupid owl faces.'
He doesn't complain when it's taken back, though.