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The sky throbbed with the promise of rain, dark clouds rolling in from the distant horizon.
“C’mon Akaashi, let’s go!” Bokuto yelled over his shoulder as he bounded out of school, clearly unfazed by the ominous state of the weather. Even when the sky was gloomy, Bokuto was charged full of energy, bouncing in his steps with his bag strap hanging stupidly from his head.
It was so fucking cute that it was unfair to Akaashi’s poor, poor heart.
“Bokuto-san, it’s going to rain,” Akaashi said, stating the obvious.
“I know! Which is why we should hurry,” Bokuto grinned. “I know you don’t like getting wet.”
Akaashi felt his cheeks heating up.
As much as he didn’t like getting wet, that wasn’t the reason for his flustered state.
“Let’s just hurry, okay?”
Bokuto nodded as he bounded off down the pavement.
Akaashi followed behind reluctantly, quickening his pace.
Every single cell in his body told him this was a bad idea. Neither of them had an umbrella, and their houses were quite a distance away from the school. Maybe they should just take the bus, or wait out the rain in school — not march off into the unknown like fools.
As if to emphasize his point, a wave of thunder rumbled in the distance.
Akaashi hurried his footsteps until he was neck and neck with Bokuto.
“How was school today?” Bokuto asked, swinging his arms as they walked as if they weren’t about to be caught in a serious downpour in a matter of seconds.
“Fantastic,” Akaashi managed to say, trying to match Bokuto’s pace.
Despite everything, Bokuto was still the faster walker. Akaashi much preferred to keep to a steady pace, like a tired student after a long school day, but unfortunately he did not have that luxury today. The sky was about to crack open any second now, and they were nowhere near their houses or any form of shelter. They were nearing a little road with a zebra crossing, but it opened up onto a large open meadow and fenced-off compounds. There wasn’t even an awning in sight they could stand under.
“Great! I learnt a new word today,” Bokuto continued.
“Yes?” Akaashi decided to entertain him.
“ Petrichor ,” Bokuto said, biting down on the syllables. “It means the nice smell after it rains.”
“How apt,” Akaashi said, truthfully.
He cast a sideward glance at Bokuto, which was a mistake. His face was lit up with the same old sunshine smile, a wistful look in his eyes as he stared up at the darkening sky, as if it was some wondrous sight to be marvelled at.
Akaashi’s heart thudded in his chest, and for a moment he wondered if it was loud enough that even Bokuto could hear it.
They walked in sync, shoes thudding over grass and dirt as they padded over the field.
Akaashi shuddered when he thought about walking through the same grass and dirt in the rain, when everything would be reduced to a muddy mishmash of squelching under their shoes.
“We’re almost halfway there,” Bokuto said, trying to be reassuring, which Akaashi was glad for.
“Mm,” he murmured, his own bag swinging against his hips with every step he took.
The place was quiet — the calm before the storm. The birds had stopped chirping long ago, and the only sound around was their rustling through the grass trying to get to safety before the storm hit.
And then the first drop fell from the sky.
Bokuto shot off like a rocket, flying easily across the grass while Akaashi dashed like a disgruntled madman behind him.
The rain was picking up, more droplets falling from the sky and ricocheting off the ground. It was really coming down now, the rainwater pelting across their faces and splashing onto their uniforms and bags. It was getting harder and harder to see where they were going, the curtain of rain around them growing thicker and hazier, blocking out the outlines of street lamps and crossings.
“There!” Bokuto yelled over the drumming of the rain, gesturing wildly at an awning across the street.
Akaashi nodded, and together they ran towards the crossing.
“Hurry!” Bokuto yelled again, looking back over his shoulder to check if Akaashi was still there.
“I’m trying, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi skirted by another puddle, barely avoiding slipping and planting his face into the cold, slick concrete.
“Here,” Bokuto said, grabbing Akaashi’s hand in his.
Akaashi’s brain shorted out.
Before he could even try to find a response to Bokuto grabbing his hand, Bokuto’s grip tightened, and in mere moments they were dashing madly across the street, certainly a sight to see to every single car driving by. Akaashi’s legs were moving with a mind of their own, being pulled along by Bokuto.
He could no longer feel the cold water seeping in under his shirt and clinging to his skin.
He could no longer feel the icky squelch of water swimming in his socks.
He could no longer feel the wet patches covering his bag.
All he could feel was the warmth of Bokuto’s tight grip fastened around his hands, their fingers having slid together and interlocked as he fumbled across the road trying to keep up. No matter how unsure his steps were on the wet ground, Bokuto was there to steady him, his hand a grounding anchor that dragged him out of the miserable rain and into the safety of shelter.
“Phew!” Bokuto sighed in relief, brushing water off his face. “Just in time!”
They were now standing under the awning of a closed bookshop, marooned in the middle of a downpour, with water running down their backs and soaking into every cell in their body. Akaashi would not exactly say that they had made it in time , but it was a welcome respite from running in the rain.
Bokuto shook the water out of his hair. His tufted grey and black strands were no longer standing up, instead falling all the way into his face and around his neck, framing his boyish grin and stabbing Akaashi straight in the heart with how absolutely adorable it was. Rarely did he get to see Bokuto with his hair down, and every time he did, he still hadn’t found out how to recover from the life-changing experience. It felt strangely intimate, like this was a side of Bokuto that Akaashi liked to think only he got to see.
“Aw, my hair’s gone down,” Bokuto pouted.
“It looks good like that,” Akaashi said.
It took him a whole moment to realize what he had said. Slapping himself internally, he averted his gaze away from Bokuto, his face flushing. He hoped that Bokuto wouldn’t catch on, that he could chalk it up to the rain, that he wasn’t flustered because of Bokuto’s hair.
“Really?”
Akaashi turned to look at Bokuto. Turned to stare .
Bokuto had sounded...strangely hopeful.
He found a pair of big golden eyes staring right back at him from under those drenched strands, rivulets of water running down Bokuto’s face. There was an unexplainably intense look in Bokuto’s eyes, one that rivalled the yearning in Akaashi’s own. It was deep and longing and charged full of emotion.
Thunder rumbled in the background, a clap of lightning flashing across the sky.
Akaashi’s own heart was pounding in his chest, like a thunderstorm of his own.
“Yes,” he finally said.
Bokuto was the one who closed the distance between them.
As the sky rang with thunder and lightning and the rain poured down around them, they melted into each other’s arms, the kiss full of need and want and feelings that had been unsaid.
Akaashi could feel Bokuto’s hands running through his curls, sending more water dripping down the back of his neck and soaking into his clothes, but he didn’t care about that anymore. His own arms were wrapped around Bokuto’s neck, drenched and warm and comfortable .
This was what he had been waiting for.
Bokuto was the one he had been waiting for.