𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 | bokuaka!

𝟏𝟗.

And the night had fell quickly, ending in mass smiling and heart-felt goodbyes to many relatives. Comforting, the feeling was for the first time in my life.

"Bye, Yua!" Bokuto cheers from beside me, waving off the little girl as she returns the gesture, giggling. I nod to her grandmother as they trail out of the bungalow.

"Today was a lot..." I murmur, slouching a bit as everyone else trails off.

Suddenly, a finger brushes against my hand, inching even closer to mine; but I already know whose it is. And I smile a bit, taking the lead by intertwining our fingers, chuckling while continuing to look into the distance through a window. Many cars roll down the snow paved street.

"You could've just held my hand if that's what you wanted, Bokuto-san."
________
⠀⠀┊  ┊ ┊
⠀⠀┊  ┊ ┊
⠀⠀┊  ┊ ✫
⠀⠀┊ ⊹ ⋆
⠀⠀┊. ⠀              » [ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ] «
⠀⠀✧ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀          the neighbourhood
                           0:00 ─〇───── 0:00
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀        ⇄   ◃◃   ⅠⅠ   ▹▹   ↻

╭┈                      .· * • ˚
│                   ✶   : ·  • 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐔𝐑
│ @𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐱𝐲𝐳_          .· * 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓, 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑
│                      ✵ ˚ : · 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓!
╰────────✬      * ˚  ✶

________

"Sorry," He murmurs. His treasure-like eyes gleam, soft and smiling. Antsy, however, is the light blush spread across his face as he swings our hands a bit, back and forth.

"You're acting like we haven't dated before, Kou..."

Bokuto's head perks up at the familiar nickname, and he sheepishly scratches the back of his head with his free hand.

"I know, it's just, it's different. I always get butterflies around you and I'm always so excited it's just— gah!" He makes a strange noise, "It just feels really, really good to of solved most of my problems. I'm so much more comfortable with holding you close."

"Mm, let's just go to bed..." I reply, turning my back to pull him along. A flimsy attempt to mask the zeal edging my heart on to flutter. It's a feeling that spreads through my veins easily. I don't fight it anymore.

The room's colder than we left it, and Bokuto lets go of my hand to yawn, stretching his arms out rather dramatically. Rolling my eyes, I make my way across the darker room, stumbling a bit over the sleeping quarters Bokuto made on the floor. Turning on a dim lamp, the room illuminates accordingly.

I hastily change, and in a moment I'm wearing a solid gray long sleeved shirt, the cotton snug around my body accompanied by lounge pants.

When I turn around, I'm met with Koutarou already crawling into the bundle of sheets accumulated on the floor.

"No," I blurt out.

"What?" He asks. His voice is laced with drowsiness, furrowed eyebrows matching his tone.

"You can sleep with me. It's extra cold tonight." I move to crawl under the comforter of the bed (that I had taken up the entirety of the past few nights, such selfish intent, I know).

"Are you sure? I don't want you to rush head first into anything..."

"Trust me, Bokuto-san. I just want to feel your arms around me." He audibly chokes near the bedside at that comment. I face the wall, scooting closer to it in order to make room for his larger frame.

"O-Okay," His voice croaks.

"First change your clothes though, or something."

"Right!"

He quickly fumbles with his clothes I presume from behind me, in which I don't spare a glance; not ready to handle that kind of heat.

The wall seems much more interesting. So I press my hand to it, running the pads of my fingers over the ridges, feeling every crevice, nook and cranny of the structure, cool under the tips.

"Alright..." He eases himself into the spot next to me, bed loudly creaking under his weight. I feel the dip behind me as I steal a glance back, and holy shit, was I not ready.

He's shirtless while it's below freezing degree weather outside.

Even under the night's ambience— and the desk lamp's light— his body is so damn toned, muscular and smooth. The kind of body that makes you want to run your hands along every inch of it, an euphoric experience to even think about basking in.

The milky skin defined by every curvature of his body is enough to flood a mind with sin. But not enough for my tired state as I repress the thoughts. I look away quickly, but make sure to ingrain the sight in my mind, hoping to not forget that.

"What are you doing, it's cold in here?" I bury my face in the blankets, muffling myself.

I stiffen when his breath hits the nape of my neck. "'Kaashi, relax," he says, voice gentle, "I'm not too cold anyway, in fact I feel like I'm a bit warm myself..."

He wasn't lying. In his first act to grow comfortable, his searing hand rests on my hip, nipping at a bit of exposed skin when his fingers accidentally grace under the hem of my shirt.

His actions after that are all firm. Pulling me close to his body, wrapping his arm around my torso, and even intertwining our legs comes natural. It's a mystery to me how somehow my heart's able to overcome all my gay panic (for now, at least).

I feel like a hopeless school girl...

But it's something I can't help. I reminisce in the steady beat of Bokuto's rising and falling chest against my back.

Nothing's better than leaning back into his arms.

Into the arms of the one who I care about the most despite it all. The one who I've bled for, sought after, and cried over the most. Bittersweet, angry, and raging tears they were; some out of spite, some out of living in the plane of emptiness I was left in.

It's almost endearing. But at the end of the day a magnetic force compels us, extreme opposites, and it pulls us together whether it was healthy at first or not. We stick to eachother like glue. Always on eachother's minds, racing through the other's thoughts, even years after we've even spoken.

And it is by pure chance that Bokuto reappeared without lying.

So when Kou's breathing slows enough, I sink into his embrace before mustering up a few words, which would be mind-blowing fragments that can barely contain my feelings that I'm finally ready to admit.

"I think I love you too, Koutarou. I think I always have..." I whisper out, into the dead of the night. A part of me screams it is unwise, or premature of me to even think such words still.

But the other part of me knows I don't have a reason to fight my own intellect, not today at least. With that, my body is at rest. My consciousness finally gets a break when my eyes flutter shut.

editors note: i know some people are confused, but this isn't the end of our past. I JUST HAVEN'T UPDATED LMAO; this is about 67% of the book. i still have things to resolve.

word count: 1139