Work Text:
Akaashi stared across the streets, rain dripping down from the sky as cars splashed past. Puddles were starting to form, and somewhere past him he could hear whoops of glee as children hopped in them, mud on their boots as their parents called for them to stop.
He could also hear whoops of glee beside him, as a grown man—his boyfriend, actually— splashed around in the puddles. Akaashi felt the corners of his mouth turn upwards. Bokuto stood out amongst the children, even more so with his peculiar hair and impressive height, but his smile was wide as if he was a child himself. He probably was, Akaashi thought, but that was perhaps one of the reasons why he loved him.
The rain fell around him and his small umbrella, pooling on the sidewalk. The puddles around reflected the blinding stoplight, making the water shimmer red. Water splashed onto his coat and Akaashi whirled around to find Bokuto grinning sheepishly, the legs of his pants soaked. “Bokuto,” he began. He had dropped the “-san” a while ago under Bokuto’s insistence that “I’m not that old, Akaashi!”.
“I have a letter in here.”
“Sorry! But you should try running in puddles! It’s amazi-”
“Bokuto, we have to go.”
“But Akaashi, try it-”
“Bokuto.”
#
He tried to sound intimidating and failed, the grin on his lips betraying him. He tried again.
“Bokuto, we’re in a hurry.”
“Aghasheeee!!! Just try it~”
“Come on, we’re— gah!”
Bokuto had come up behind and wrapped his arms around his waist. Caught in surprise, Akaashi dropped the umbrella. He lifted Akaashi easily and stepped into the puddle. “Bokuto-” damn it, it came out giggling, “put me dow-” and cut abruptly as Bokuto spun him, hands fitting around his middle. Akaashi’s shoes splashed against the water, droplets staining his pants as his frown turned into laughter. As he spun, Akaashi couldn’t help but notice the soft lines of his jaw and the rosy flush of his cheeks. His eyes sparkled with the innocent joy of a child. Bokuto’s smile melted his heart, even on a cold rainy day. Eventually Bokuto did set him down, but not before pressing a kiss to his lips.
Akaashi fought to keep a smile off his face. Bokuto spooned him from behind and snuggled his face into Akaashi’s shoulder, breathing out a contented sigh. Warmth bubbled up in Akaashi’s chest.
He was so lost in the moment that he didn’t notice hands poke in his coat pocket until Bokuto was halfway through a chocolate bar that definitely wasn’t his. Bokuto saw him looking and stuffed the thing into his mouth, wrapper and all.. “It washnt me,” he mumbled.
The wrapper fell halfway out.
Akaashi mustered a glare, struggling to hide his amusement. Bokuto developed a sudden interest in his shoes.
“…it…teleported!?”
#
Bokuto popped the umbrella open. The umbrella looked tiny compared to his muscular build, Akaashi thought. Bokuto stepped onto the tarmac.
Tires screeched against the road.
The car stopped, a trail of blood following the vehicle.
Akaashi couldn’t move, the thick heat choking him. Then the haze cleared and he stumbled, tripping, to Bokuto’s side. His arms twisted behind him. Pieces of bone had punctured his clothes and left a small trickle of blood down his abdomen. His lower body was a blistering mess of blood and meat. Bokuto’s right eye was glassy, and his left was shut, blood streaming out of the socket.
Akaashi’s voice caught in his throat. He shook Bokuto, more forcefully than he ever had.
Bokuto tried to shake his head. His lips parted, but no sound came out.
“Kotarō, Kotarō!”
Akaashi cradled Bokuto’s hand. The beautiful golden eyes he had learned to love had turned hazy. He pressed his ear near Bokuto’s mouth.
“…letter, Akaashi,”
And then his head lolled back, breath coming to a soft stop. His body heaved a sigh and relaxed. His hand let go of Akaashi and for a moment, the only movement was the silent trickle of blood down his abdomen. Akaashi felt himself become numb. Fumbling, he reached and snatched the blood-splattered envelope Bokuto was clutching, stuffing it in his coat pocket.
A sob escaped Akaashi’s throat. The second and third followed, until he couldn’t hold them in anymore. He sobbed and sobbed until his eyes were raw and his throat was burning. He clung onto Bokuto’s limp body, and cried, longing for the warmth he should have felt around his shoulders. With trembling hands he plucked the carefully placed wax off the envelope and pulled the paper out. He unfolded it and there was the familiar messy scrawl,
“Dear Mom,
I’m proposing to Akaashi tomorrow. Wish me luck~
Love,
Bokuto”