Work Text:
It’s a full moon tonight.
Bokuto knows not only because he looked up as soon as he got out tonight and saw that the moon was round and full and bright and pretty, hanging in the middle of the night sky like a glowing rice ball. He also knows it because Kuroo, his roommate and teammate, bitched his ear off about it for like an entire hour this morning.
Kuroo hates the full moon, and every single month he complains about it and how it makes using his powers so much more difficult.
It’s annoying as hell, but Bokuto understands.
Considering Kuroo needs shadows to “do his stuff”, it’s way more convenient for him when the moon is waxing or waning. Cloudy nights are good, too, but new moon nights are his favorite by far. The earth’s shadow is pretty much everywhere then, whereas on brighter nights, shadows are way more fragmented and difficult to work with.
It must suck to be Kuroo on nights like this, but for Bokuto it’s pretty much the opposite.
He likes the full moon.
Loves it, even.
It’s not only pretty but it also gives him way better visibility during the night.
His eyes aren’t built like Kuroo’s, which are literally made for seeing in the dark. Unlike Bokuto, Kuroo has a weird, special gene somewhere in his DNA, and what’s more, he was also the rare case where the powers caused by that genetic mutation manifested when he was a baby.
He has umbrakinesis (or something like that - Bokuto isn’t that good with names), so all of his anatomy works in the dark even better than it does during the day. He has to wear sunglasses often during the daytime, and it kinda makes him look like a jerk which Bokuto finds funny because he’s not a jerk. Not really. He’s only a little bit jerk-y, and only sometimes.
But anyway, none of this is the case for Bokuto.
Bokuto’s are perfectly normal human eyes, if only slightly bigger than most - according to his optometrist.
Honestly, Bokuto wouldn’t be able to see much during darker nights if it weren’t for the night vision feature thingy Kenma installed into his contact lenses (and into the contact lenses of everybody else in the team who isn’t Kuroo, of course).
And that would be… kinda disappointing, honestly.
His alias is Comet Owl, and owls are supposedly great at seeing in the dark.
But Bokuto isn’t an actual owl, nor can he turn into an owl at will. He can’t summon owls and make them obey him, and he can’t even imitate owl sounds.
Nothing like that.
He just likes owls, finds them cute and funky looking, and he’s even been told he looks like one. And so, since he’s just a regular person, all he can do in a night like this is be thankful for the full moon and use it to his advantage.
Even through the night vision filter the night feels so much brighter and clearer this way, and Bokuto has practically no trouble moving around the city, jumping and gliding from one rooftop to the other with the help of his suit, just looking for something to do, someone to help — anything to make this, patrolling, worth it.
He’s downtown in what he knows is a busy district full of offices and people with briefcases during the day, and it’s nice and all that, but right now, in the middle of a Sunday night, it feels dead.
It looks dead, too.
Crouching on the edge of a rooftop and looking at the streets below, Bokuto doesn’t see much of anything going on, and he sighs, bored. There is a convenience store down on the corner of the building he's observing from, but there’s nothing special or weird about it. There is a tall office building across from the avenue to the side, and a slightly shorter brick building right in front, across from a narrow alley Bokuto could easily jump over. A few cars drive down the avenue, but that’s it.
That’s all.
Bokuto would almost feel like he’s alone in the world or like time stopped if he didn’t know better.
But luckily, he does.
He only has to refocus his eyes and concentrate on the interface of the contact lenses he’s wearing; the ones Kenma designed and built for each of them. On the “screen” of sorts, as if floating on top of Bokuto’s vision, is the time. 22:37, it says, glowing a pale green, and the colon between the numbers blinks with every passing second, so he knows time is flowing like normal.
On the left corner of the contact lenses’ “screen” there is a map displaying Bokuto’s surroundings, the grey and yellow owl logo that represents him blinking in the middle of it signaling his position. Hinata’s and Yaku’s logos, a black feather and a red minimalistic feline head respectively, are blinking on opposite edges of the map, far away from him and from each other, but both just a blink of an eye away.
Superspeed, Hinata Shoyo, and teleportation, Yaku Morisuke.
Their aliases: Decoy and Ocelot.
Hinata can go for a run on the shores of every main Japanese island and be back in about two minutes. He's fast . He’s not faster than light, but he’s faster than sound by a lot , which Bokuto finds really cool. Yaku, on the other hand, can teleport up to fifty kilometers or so, though it’s always more impressive when he does it within tiny distances to confuse and beat his opponent up. He’s slightly slower than Hinata, but he’s way more… precise and reliable, as Kenma would say. Not to mention, a kickboxing champion in his weight category. Hinata can hold his own, but his best weapon is, hands down, confusing and tiring his opponent out before the final blow is delivered, usually by somebody else.
Tonight it’s the three of them on the streets, but they technically could ask the others for help if something big and dangerous happened and they weren’t able to fight it.
For the purpose of emergency communication, there is also a chat box thingy on the screen of the contact lenses where they can write and send emergency messages to the other members of the team even while they’re not in their “work clothes”. Everybody has their own logo and alias and color in the chat, and it’s so cool , it feels like actual, official superhero stuff.
It was a little tricky to figure out how to use it at first, but now Bokuto would say he’s a pro.
It’s a shame neither Kenma nor Birdseye approve of using it for no reason. They both say it should be reserved only for: A) contacting teammates who aren’t on the street to ask for support in dire situations, B) if their intercom system gets overridden by other frequencies or hacked into or other stuff like that, and C) situations where it’s dangerous to speak out loud.
Bokuto pouts to himself a little.
It looks like this amazing technology Kenma’s computer brain came up with is gonna go unused again.
Tonight is just another pretty, quiet, boring night.
“Something wrong, Comet? You stopped moving.”
Bokuto laughs quietly to himself.
Speak of the devil.
Or just Kenma in this case.
Kozume Kenma. Alias: Wildcat.
He’s watching. He’s almost always watching. He can tap into pretty much every security camera in the city, public or private owned, and he keeps track of all of them thanks to the trackers in their suits, too. His work is clean, barely traceable (whatever that means in the digital world - Bokuto wouldn’t know), and his technopathy powers and intelligence really make him an amazing gadget builder.
Also, economically speaking… let’s just say it really helps their team, the Night Beasts, that he’s a rich and famous gamer YouTuber and Internet personality
Bokuto would say Kenma’s a cool guy. A great guy, actually, even if he’s not too talkative (with him).
Bokuto likes him. He’s known him since high school, so he knows the monotone, bored tone he’s using is just his normal voice. He doesn’t transmit adrenaline or wildness in the slightest, but he’s able to keep his cool even when things go south.
That’s a strength of his, and it’s cool, but if you asked Bokuto, he’d tell you the word ‘wild’ doesn’t suit Kenma at all. In fact, Bokuto could probably name at least four types of plants who are objectively wilder than Kenma.
Bokuto knows the alias Wildcat is just a reference to the feline species and that Kenma chose it simply because it sounds cool, but Bokuto also thinks something like House cat or Lazy cat would suit him way better.
(He suggested Techno cat to him once to do justice to both his affinity for felines and his technopathy powers, but everybody else thought it sounded too silly.)
“No, there’s nothing wrong,” Bokuto answers Kenma’s question, pouting as he speaks. “But that’s exactly what’s wrong, y’know?”
“Oh. Hm…”
“Hm. Yeah, that’s right,” Bokuto imitates his bored hum. “You know, I’ve been looking around my perimeter for a long time, working up a bit of a sweat and everything, but there’s nothing to do around here. No one to save. No crime to stop. Nothing at all. And I’m bored!”
A soft laugh resounds through the intercom system.
“Hey now, I thought no news is good news in this business?” Yaku says amusedly from wherever he is. He must be bored too, knowing him.
Bokuto’s eyes refocus on the street below when he catches sudden movement, but his already miserable pout turns even more miserable when he sees it’s just a cat stretching on top of a trash can — why must he always be surrounded by cats?
“No,” he answers pointedly, but backtracks quickly. “I mean, yes , it’s a good thing, normally, but not tonight. I had a date tonight, remember? A date . If I’m gonna be here instead, then the least I deserve is some action. Kur— I mean, Shadow. Shadow should’ve come in my place.”
“Oh no, no way,” Yaku interjects. “You know how pissy and annoying he gets this time of the month. We would’ve killed each other by the end of the night.”
“Aw, can you do it some other time? When it’s the three of us out here, preferably, because I’d love watching that! I bet he'd kick your ass.”
Yaku scoffs.
“Are you kidding me? You just gotta point a flashlight into his face and he’s all yours. Also, he’d never catch me. He’s way too slow.”
“Hmm, I don’t know, Ocelot-kun. You both seemed pretty caught up on the sofa the other night. You know. With each other…”
Someone else snorts into the intercom.
“Oh my god, guys, can you please stop? I’m really gonna laugh out loud if you keep it up,” Hinata says, and before anyone can react and say anything else, Kenma orders everybody to shut up and focus.
(He does it with the slightly softer tone he uses when talking to Hinata and Hinata only, so Bokuto’s kinda thankful the speedster commented.)
But Bokuto has a bit of a hard time shutting up and focusing.
See, it’s a full moon. It’s a beautiful night, and Bokuto was supposed to go on a date.
He hasn’t been on a date with his boyfriend in fifteen days and hasn’t seen him in a week.
That’s a long time, and Bokuto misses him.
He wants to see him and kiss him and run his hands through his pretty, silky black hair.
And maybe he wants to pull on it a little, too.
Maybe he wants to kiss him on the neck while they pretend to watch a movie.
Maybe he wants to eat onigiri at the Miya’s restaurant with him, hold hands with him all the way to his place, make out in the elevator with him, and then have the steamiest sex with him.
And maybe he’s frustrated because he could’ve had that, tonight, but instead he’s out on the streets in his black and grey Comet Owl suit that is a little too tight on his thighs.
Bokuto daydreamed about this date all week, but then Birdseye called him that morning, when Kuroo was half into his “the moon can suck my ass” speech, and told him something happened to Nishinoya — Thunderbird —, and Bokuto would have to look after his assigned perimeter for the night.
“B-But— but I have something to do! Personal stuff! Important personal stuff! Why can’t he make it? What happened to him?”
“Um, apparently he got his wisdom teeth removed on Friday,” Birdseye explained, sounding slightly anxious. “All four of them at the same time, too, so it was pretty intense, apparently? Also, it was Asahi-san who called me and told me about it because Thunderbird could barely speak yesterday… So. Yes. We need you to have a full three-person team. I’m sorry, Comet-san.”
Bokuto groaned.
“Wait, but what about Russian Blue?”
“He’s in Milan if I remember correctly. Work reasons.”
“Thrasher?” Bokuto tried again.
“He’s… recovering from two broken ribs, remember?”
Bokuto winced at that. Right.
He was there when he got it— Yamaguchi is so nice and he is so powerful too, his telekinesis is awesome, but he is prone to forgetting his surroundings and getting caught up in his head sometimes. Last week, that cost him a baseball bat to the side from a gang member.
“Oh, hoot, right. Okay. Then… then what about Slayer Crow? Can’t he cover?”
“He’s not taking missions currently. I’m sorry, Comet-san.”
And so, Comet Owl is out here tonight.
He could be kissing his boyfriend under the moonlight, and it would be really romantic and sexy, but nope.
He had to put on his suit and come out for this.
For nothing.
He sighs again, long and frustrated, before he straightens up and rolls his head, loudly popping his neck joints.
He turns around the cap on his head, so the front is facing back, and still crouching, he pulls out his bow and an arrow from the quiver on his back.
He has plenty of arrows of every sort, probably more than anyone could think of.
He has explosive arrows, polyurethane foam arrows to soften falls or slow down enemies, incendiary arrows, zip-line arrows to cross from one tall building to another one far away, and also arrows that shoot out knock-out gas. He has arrows that can create a blinding flash, arrows that can expand into a net, arrows that can shoot out smoke, and arrows that can transmit radio waves or override certain wavelengths.
That’s his thing. Arrows.
They kinda look like comets, so. Yeah. That’s where the alias comes from.
There may be no special power woven into Bokuto’s DNA, no natural element bending at his will, and nothing superhuman about his biology, but that doesn’t matter.
He’s just as deadly (or, should he say, just as hero-y and rescue-y) as any of the Night Beasts – all of whom have powerful mutant genes.
He’s just as powerful as those guys who get to sit at the International League of Heroes and save the world - he knows for a fact.
He’s good. He’s one of the best.
He smirks to himself a little, making sure he got one of his normal arrows before setting it in position, level with his eyes.
Bokuto aims the arrow at one specific brick on the wall of the building across the alley that looks particularly offending, and he concentrates all his current frustrations on it.
The string tenses just like his muscles, accumulating power that will soon turn into deadly momentum, and then they let go with a soft sound when he shoots.
But something happens then.
Something strange.
The arrow starts making its way towards its target infallibly, but it suddenly stops when it’s still halfway there, perfectly suspended in the middle of the air. All its momentum is gone, like the world just glitched or stopped and the arrow got frozen in time.
Bokuto hums questioningly, raising an eyebrow and looking at his arrow from the edge of the rooftop. He tilts his head, waits one second, two seconds, but the arrow remains there.
Things only get stranger because then the arrow starts moving. It floats all the way up to Bokuto’s eye level at a slow, steady pace and then, just as slowly, it turns towards him and heads towards his face in a straight line.
When it comes to a halt at a safe distance in front of Bokuto’s face, he takes it in his hand and puts it away in his quiver behind his back again.
Huh.
He smirks, getting up from his position and standing up.
Just then, Kenma speaks into the intercom.
“Hey, Comet? I’m getting weird stuff near your position.”
“Yyyup. I could’ve told you that, though,” Bokuto says casually, looking down at the seemingly empty alley below. It’s quite the distance to the concrete below - he mentally calculates fifteen meters, give or take. He could shoot one of those foam arrows to land safely if he had to, but he thinks he could rely on his arms and legs only for getting down there if he had to.
“There's... interference in all the security cameras nearby, and even your signal on my GPS is wacky and kind of intermittent. Actually, I think I’m losing you.”
“It’s gonna be okay, Cat boy. Don’t get all worried.”
”I’m not worried. I’m just saying there’s something weird near you. Look out. The cameras aren’t catching it, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.”
Bokuto laughs softly, but he nods.
“I am looking out, you really don’t need to worry about that!” he says, and after a short thoughtful pause, he adds. “Also… I think I know what’s going on. I wouldn’t worry about it… about him. Y’know.”
“Ah,” Kenma sounds like he understands but isn’t particularly happy about it.
“Who?” Yaku asks. “What’s up?”
“Nothing—” Kenma tries, but Hinata chirps in, interrupting him.
“Yeah, what’s up? Is it a bad guy? Comet-san, should I head there, help you out or something?” The speedster asks excitedly, words coming out his mouth too quickly and excitedly, but Kenma stops him before Bokuto can say anything.
“No, no, Decoy, stay put. It’s better if you stay where you are. Just in case.”
“Aww, come on—“
“—it’s not like it’d take you more than a few seconds to get to where he is, anyway,” Kenma interrupts. “So, stay put.”
Suddenly, before Bokuto can hear Hinata’s reply, the communicator goes out and Bokuto can’t hear anything from his teammates anymore.
He clicks his tongue.
“So this is how you’re going to play…? Isolating me from my teammates? How low of you...” He speaks into the empty night air, still smirking to himself, not really expecting an answer.
He refocuses his attention on his contact lenses and chuckles quietly when he sees the words OUT OF RANGE floating above the emergency chat box and the city map on his vision.
“And messing with my gadgets, too, huh…! Okay, I see how it is,” he says, hoping it sounds at least a little taunting. “Hey!” He calls down at the alley, both feet on the very edge of the building. “Do you want me to go down there or are you gonna come up here? I don’t mind either way, but I know you don’t like it when I—“
“—when you fling yourself off buildings?” A familiar muffled voice speaks behind Bokuto, finishing his sentence for him. “Of course I don’t like it.”
“ Holy sh— “ Bokuto almost curses, and he almost trips off the edge of the building too, but an invisible force keeps him from falling.
The force disappears as soon as he’s recovered his balance, so he has no trouble turning around and seeing the owner of that voice.
Masked or not, Bokuto has no trouble recognizing him.
Tall, though slightly shorter than Bokuto himself; strong but slender, his build is not the one of someone who engages in much hand-on-hand combat, nor the one of a professional athlete either. He’s lithe, but strong enough to knock someone out without breaking a sweat if he has to.
He’s perfect.
His sharp blue eyes glisten under the full moon, above a black mask that covers up to his nose and under a dark blue hood that Bokuto has always found a little creepy. The rest of his suit is the definition of classy, the peak of design and engineering, and it was flawlessly put together by the best superhero designers in this and a few other worlds. Like, the dark blue hyper-resistant fabric hugging his body is partially made from a mineral only found in one of Jupiter’s moons. Also, Bokuto knows there are retractable obsidian-like claws on the man’s knuckles in the unlikely case an enemy gets too close to him and he has no choice but to fight physically, but this obsidian-like mineral is actually from Mars.
He really gets the best of the best in the galaxy.
“Jesus, Gravity, what the fuck,” Bokuto says as greeting, the other’s alias more than familiar to him. To him, and to everyone on the planet really — when it comes to powers and super abilities, the man in front of him is a living legend.
“Comet-san,” Gravity returns, nodding his head respectfully like Bokuto didn’t just cuss at him.
Bokuto huffs at him.
“Don’t act all polite now. It was really rude of you to stop me when I was practicing my aim, you know?”
Gravity raises an eyebrow.
“You weren’t practicing your aim. Your aim is already perfect,” he says, matter-of-fact. “You were just going to waste a perfectly good arrow if you did that, and I couldn’t allow it.”
Bokuto clicks his tongue.
“I wasn’t gonna waste it,” he complains, but he can feel his face heat up at the casual praise. Luckily, he’s wearing his mask and it covers pretty much the entire upper half of his face. “I would've gotten it back easily.”
“Would you really?” Gravity crosses his arms in front of his chest, the moonlight catching on the black and silver metallic gauntlets he wears around his forearms. Bokuto looks from his gloved hands to his eyes, blue and pretty and annoying.
“Of course! Just one leap and it’s mine again.”
“What about that fifteen-meter fall afterwards?”
“Parkour, baby; ever heard of it? As long as there’s stuff to grab that can support my core strength, or just walls and surfaces in general, then I’ll be okay. And anyway, I’ve had bigger falls. Tokyo Tower— woosh, gliding like a bird of prey all the way down.”
“Ah, yes, I recall that,” Gravity pauses, gives him a plain look, taking a step closer to him. “Wasn’t that the same night you strained one of your ankles after a bad landing?”
Bokuto shrugs, going for nonchalant even if Gravity’s piercing eyes make a rush of nerves and adrenaline shoot across his body.
“Maybe so,” he says, taking a step towards Gravity and reducing the distance between them himself. “But a strained ankle after a three-hundred-meter fall doesn’t sound too bad, does it?”
The closer they are, the taller Bokuto feels. Gravity has to tilt his head backwards slightly to look at him in the eyes of his mask.
“You also broke a vending machine.”
“Damn, Gravity-kun, you are so fixated on details,” Bokuto exclaims, leaning a little closer into Gravity’s space so he can whisper in his ear, just next to his dark blue hood. “Bet you’d be an unbearable boyfriend. All up in your partner’s business all the time… That’s no good.”
Gravity pulls back, his eyes narrowed as they move from one of Bokuto’s mask’s “eyes” to the other.
“I don’t see how my personal life is any of your business, Comet-san,” he says, and he’s all cool, all calm and collected as he looks up at Bokuto.
But Bokuto knows better.
He’s got him.
He knows it, because as he leaned to speak into his ear, he also sneaked a hand into a pouch of his utility belt and got out a pair of smoke bombs which are now resting inside of his palm.
“Though I guess I could say the same to you. You’d be an unbearable boyfriend too,” Gravity continues, uncrossing his arms from in front of his chest and bringing a hand up to Bokuto’s cap. Bokuto lets him, trusts him not to pull it off. And indeed, all Gravity does is trace his fingers over the edge of it and then brush against his ear lightly. The touch causes a shrill interference in Bokuto’s earpiece and he hisses at the feeling of it, but he doesn’t back away.
“You’re so wrong. You’re just jealous you don’t get a piece of this— I’m a great boyfriend.”
“Are you?” Gravity questions, finally retrieving his gloved hand and bringing it to his lips in a thoughtful gesture. “Because a little owl told me what you’re great at is cancelling plans.”
Bokuto almost laughs at that.
Instead, what he does is he squeezes the smoke bombs in his hand before throwing them on the ground between Gravity and him.
“Yeah, well! It’s been a nice chat, Gravity, but I must get back to work! See you around!” He says as a cloud of thick smoke envelopes them.
Not many things take Gravity by surprise, but he seems to have done it this time.
“Comet-san—” he coughs, and Bokuto smirks. “Wait, hold up!”
“Nope! Sorry baby, I gotta fly! See ya!”
Said and done, Bokuto flies away.
Glides away, more like.
He jumps across the alley, extending his arms to make use of his suit’s gliders and ensure a safe landing.
After that, he turns around, takes one of his arrows from the quiver, and shoots it towards Gravity, though not at him. He actually aims for the wall of the building he just left the superhero at, so maybe it’ll take him a while to find it. The moment the tip digs into the concrete, a shrill, loud noise starts, and Bokuto smirks.
Hopefully, it’ll be enough to keep Gravity entertained for a while. He’s fast, and just like the force of gravity itself, nothing escapes him for too long.
But Bokuto just wants to win himself some time – he knows Gravity will catch up with him sooner than later because that’s what he does. That’s what the force of gravity does. Attract.
Bokuto hopes he does.
Without looking back again, he gets running.
It’s fun, it’s thrilling, and it’s way better than waiting around for something to happen like before, even if it’s also pretty irresponsible of him. He understands Kenma for sounding less than thrilled when he told him he had an idea of what was going on, but. Whatever. It’s not like this happens very often, either, so Bokuto lets himself have this moment.
When Bokuto thinks he’s put enough horizontal distance between him and Gravity, he jumps down a building, but when he’s about halfway down the twenty-meter fall, he catches a hold of the railing of some fire escape stairs and climbs onto them. From there, as fast as he can, he shoots a polyurethane arrow down at the ground to make it look like he landed there. Finally, after giving a look around and above, he sticks to the emergency exit door on the wall of the building, as far from the edge of the staircase as he can.
He takes this chance to breathe.
He’s in good shape, olympic shape actually, but hell – playing professional volleyball during the day and running away from literal superheroes who imply you’re a bad boyfriend during the night is a tiring combination.
The thing about Gravity is that, when he’s around and he knows Bokuto is around too, he goes all out with his electromagnetic forcefields. He messes with Bokuto’s gear just to mess with him, so it’s useless to rely on the intercom system or the contact lenses that connect him with his teammates.
It’s annoying, but it’s only fair he does that, Bokuto thinks. It’s not like he’s nice to Gravity. Actually, he’s pretty annoying. He’s always raining arrows and smoke bombs on him, playing catch with him around the city like he wants to play too, and running away every time he tries to bring up important stuff.
Important stuff, such as the International League of Heroes’ “request” for the Night Beasts to stop operating as vigilantes in the Kanto region as soon as possible if they don’t want to become internationally wanted criminals for vigilantism.
Important stuff, such as the invitation to become a part of the League instead of working in the shadows. Which… it looks good on paper, Bokuto supposes, but aside from Bokuto himself and Decoy, nobody else has been considered as an actual League member. They’d get to keep working in this “field”, sort to speak, but instead of following their own rules, they’d have to abide by the ones of the League, and that would suck, because the League works in line with the UN, and national governments, and police forces and, honestly, that’s the last thing the Night Beasts want.
He listens carefully and waits, and waits, and just as he expected, it’s only a few minutes before Gravity catches up with him.
His dark blue hooded shape descends from above, floating like some dark angel descending from heaven as he makes his way down towards the cushion of foam Bokuto shot moments ago.
And Bokuto doesn’t think twice about it.
Before Gravity can go anywhere else, Bokuto flings himself down the emergency staircase, and just as he hoped, he takes the superhero by surprise and his concentration and levitation powers disappear.
Gravity gasps as Bokuto wraps his arms around him, and as they fall over the temporary cushion, Bokuto mutters “I got you” into the side of his hooded head.
Bokuto doesn’t make a move to get up and get out from where he is, trapping Gravity’s body against the foam, but it seems Gravity lets them be like that for a moment because he just stays there, breathing.
“You know... I really detest you sometimes,” he says, panting to catch his breath (out of adrenaline rather than exhaustion, Bokuto thinks), and turning his head to the side so he can glare at Bokuto.
But Bokuto just smirks back at him.
“You do?” He laughs softly. “I don’t believe it. Say that again. To my face this time.”
“I’ll say it to your face, alright,” Gravity replies under his breath, and for a moment Bokuto thinks he’s simply going to turn around beneath him and say it, but what happens is something else entirely.
Out of nowhere, an invisible force sends Bokuto flying back from where he was lying on top of Gravity’s body, all the way until he crashes against the alley wall, his bow flying in the opposite direction.
“Ow— s-shit,” Bokuto curses, a bit disoriented at first because it all happened so fast and out of nowhere, and also, he hit the back of his head against the wall a little, nothing serious, but still, ouch. “Gravity! That’s playing dirty!”
“That’s just retaliating accordingly, actually,” the other man says in a clipped tone, standing up from the foam cushion and dusting himself off before he heads up to Bokuto, feet hovering a few centimeters above the concrete ominously.
He looks deadly like this, powerful and mighty under his hood and under the full moon, floating a few centimeters above Bokuto and keeping him trapped against a wall.
Bokuto’s never been more into him.
He licks his lips as he looks at him, from his eyes and down to the rest of his body, and he doesn’t have to worry about getting caught because he’s wearing a mask.
“Are you done running around, Comet-san?”
Bokuto’s eyes go right back to Gravity’s at that, and he’s pleased to see that he isn’t glaring daggers at him anymore even if he still has him pinned against the wall with his superpowers. He beams at him and chooses to reply with a question of his own.
“How’d you find me this time?”
“Just sheer luck,” Gravity says. “And… your loud voice, too. Also, you were literally just standing up there on the corner of a big street. Not very stealthy of you, if you ask me. A sitting duck. Or owl, in this case.”
Bokuto laughs.
“Hey! If it’s worth anything, I was distracted,” he tells the other. He dropped his bow before, when he was sent flying against the wall, but that means now he can put not just one but both his hands on Gravity’s shoulders. “I was moping a bit, actually.”
Gravity glances down at Bokuto’s hands, and he seems to relax a bit. He allows the touch, and he also puts them both back down slowly, letting Bokuto be the taller one again.
“Why am I not surprised?” he says, looking at Bokuto, and Bokuto can’t see his mouth or much of his face at all, but he can see the way his eyes soften a bit, and it makes him smile.
It makes him move his hands lower, from Gravity’s shoulders to his lightly armored chest. It’s a cold and hard feeling, and Bokuto isn’t much of a fan, so he keeps only one hand there and takes the other one up to the superhero’s neck, where there’s that dumb, hyper resistant Jupiterian-moon fabric.
“What are you up to?” He asks through his mask, and Bokuto shrugs, keeps smiling. He runs his fingers over Gravity’s jaw and then traces along the edge of the mask covering his lower face.
“Nothing,” Bokuto muses. “I just… thought I wasn’t gonna see you tonight, that’s all. Also… I thought you were free tonight?”
“Hm. Yeah, I thought so too,” he hums, his eyelids fluttering in a way he can’t conceal when Bokuto cups the side of his face with a gloved hand. “But my boyfriend called me in the morning to call off our plans, you see.”
“Aw, no, that sucks,” Bokuto comments, somehow sarcastic but sincere at the same time, his voice quieter than before. “But you don’t have to take it out on me, y’know?”
Gravity shakes his head lightly.
“That’s impossible, I’m afraid.”
Bokuto hums, tilting his head. He’s still cupping Gravity’s face, and they’ve somehow moved close enough that the tips of their noses would be touching if it weren’t for Bokuto’s mask covering the upper half of his face and Gravity’s mask covering the bottom half of his.
“Why is that?” Bokuto asks, his voice and breath ghosting above Gravity’s covered mouth.
“Because you look so much like him, it’s…” he stops himself, his eyes looking at Bokuto’s face even if he’s wearing his mask, his eyes focusing on his lips for a moment too long. “Hard to resist.”
Bokuto smirks slightly, though he’s feeling all sorts of fuzzy feelings inside.
“Well… I hope he doesn’t mind it if I do this,” he whispers mostly to himself before pulling Gravity in with the hand on his face and kissing him on the lips through his mask.
Gravity laughs a little at the gesture, probably thinks it’s dumb, but the sound is melodic and beautiful and just everything Bokuto loves to hear. The hero indulges him for a moment, lets him kiss him through the mask before he finally puts a gloved hand over Bokuto’s lips and pulls away. Bokuto pouts, but he has no chance to feel truly neglected because the only reason Gravity pulls back is so he can push his mask out of the way.
And when that happens, all Bokuto can think is fucking finally.
He brings both hands to the sides of Gravity’s face – of Akaashi’s face; his boyfriend’s face –, and he sighs, overwhelmed by affection and love and lust and all the pretty and intense things he feels for him.
He caresses his cheeks and his jaw as he pulls him closer, leans in closer as well.
“That’s better,” he means to say, but the words are swallowed by Akaashi, who put his arms around Bokuto’s neck at some point and is now kissing him insistently. His lips are dry, probably being pressed against extraterrestrial fabric for so long, but they’re also soft, and warm, and familiar, and Bokuto missed them so much .
It’s deep and hot from the get-go. Bokuto doesn’t know if it’s because of Akaashi’s superpowers or what, but every time they kiss he feels like every cell in his body is vibrating; like he’s starving to death all of a sudden, and he can’t be close enough to Akaashi. Their lips move together with as much familiarity as excitement, and when Akaashi licks his way into Bokuto’s mouth and buries his fingers in his hair in the back of his head, just below his cap, Bokuto can’t help the sound of pleasure that escapes him.
He also can’t help his hands, which move down from Akaashi’s face to his body, which is protected and shielded not only from potential enemies but also from potential lovers.
Bokuto groans, fingers sliding over the light armor as they move lower, and although he sets them on the small of Akaashi’s back so he can bring their bodies together and keep Akaashi as close as he can, he still isn’t satisfied.
“Fuck,” he curses against Akaashi’s mouth, and it was meant to be a frustrated curse, but there is not much strength in his voice. Akaashi kisses all of it away. Then, Akaashi pulls away from his lips and presses his mouth to Bokuto’s chin, to his cheek, and then, to his jaw, to the sensitive spot right beneath his ear, and it makes Bokuto melt. “Fuck, Akaashi—"
“Take your mask off, Bokuto-san,” is all he says, his voice a hot whisper against wet skin, and Bokuto shivers.
“I can’t,” he replies reluctantly, tilting his head to give more space to let Akaashi do whatever he wants to him. “I mean, I can, technically. I just - I shouldn’t.”
“You’ve done so many things you shouldn’t do tonight, what’s one more?”
Bokuto laughs breathlessly.
“Stop, don’t be a bad influence, Akaashi,” he begs, and it actually makes Akaashi chuckle against his skin. It feels nice, far too nice, the kisses on his neck, but Bokuto can’t let himself get too into it. His quiver full of arrows is digging onto his back, and every time he opens his eyes, he can see the little map and the team chat box floating in his field of vision, and all of that keeps him anchored.
But then Akaashi presses his thigh against his crotch, and Bokuto sees stars. His clothes aren’t made from extraterrestrial materials, like Akaashi’s, so his body isn’t completely shielded. His pants are just simple, hyper-stretchable pants that Azumane designed and made himself, and they’re great, they’re perfect for what Bokuto does, but they’re not Akaashi-proof.
“God, you’re mean,” Bokuto complains, but he lets the back of his head fall back against the wall. “You’re not a superhero, you’re a supervillain.”
“I’m not,” Akaashi says, but he does it again. He presses his thigh against him, and Bokuto’s hands move lower. They fall all the way to Akaashi’s ass, but what’s the point of touching him there if that’s armored too?
“Yes, you are, you are the super worst supervillain in the superworld”, he says, but still he brings Akaashi closer, and in spite of everything, he chases the feeling by rolling his hips against Akaashi’s thigh.
He gasps at it, but Akaashi kisses him again, just a couple of pecks that are a little too noisy followed by a longer, deeper kiss. There’s no tongue this time, though, which would be a disappointment to Bokuto if it wasn’t followed by Akaashi’s hand stroking his shoulders, his neck, and then falling to his chest.
“I’m not,” he repeats, looking up at Bokuto with an honest and kind of sad expression. “I swear. I just… want to see you. I super missed you.”
Bokuto stops at that, looking back down at Akaashi even if the other can’t tell because his mask is still covering his upper face.
“Akaashi… Akaashi, I super missed you too.”
Akaashi hums at that, and he’s probably satisfied by Bokuto’s tone and his words because he rewards him with another kiss.
“I know,” he says. “It’s been a really long week, hasn’t it…”
“Yeah…” Bokuto agrees, bringing a gloved hand from Akaashi’s butt to his face again. His gloves are thin but resistant, just thick enough to protect his hands from all the jumping and climbing around he does, and they’re kind of dirty, but neither he nor Akaashi seem to mind right now. “I was really looking forward to tonight, y’know? I didn’t wanna call it off.”
Akaashi shakes his head dismissively.
“It’s alright. I understand.”
“I missed you.”
Akaashi smiles.
“I missed you, too.”
“And I love you,” Bokuto says, wishing he could get rid of his mask so Akaashi could see in his eyes that he means it. Even if their schedules are awful and he behaves awfully when they’re both in their suits and they’re technically rivals.
Akaashi kisses him lightly, but he doesn’t look too impressed when he pulls back.
“Hmm…”
“What. What is it?”
“Nothing… I’m just thinking I’d say it back to you if you hadn’t, you know, smoke-bombed me and jumped me out of nowhere when I was ten meters off the ground, Comet-san .”
“Hey,” Bokuto pouts, squeezing Akaashi’s body with his arm even if the other probably doesn’t feel much. “You sneaked up on me first.”
“Still.”
“Still nothing. You started this,” he insists. “Also, I think I hit my head when you sent me flying, so you not only this but also ended this. And yet, I love you because my love isn’t conditional, see? I just love you because you’re you, whether you’re Akaashi, the love of my life, or Gravity, the most annoying guy in the entire International League of Heroes… Akaashi, what are you doing?”
Bokuto trails off when Akaashi’s hand starts probing behind his head but in a gentle, careful way, gloved fingers caressing his hair and his scalp in a sort of massage.
“Hm. Searching for an off button.”
“Akaashi.”
At that, Akaashi chuckles.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and he smiles up at Bokuto. He keeps his hand behind Bokuto’s head, as if cushioning it from the concrete wall behind, and then he just hugs him, leaning his head on his shoulder while he’s at it. “I do love you too.”
Bokuto hums happily, leaning his head against Akaashi’s even if he’s still wearing his stupid mask and his cap. Their clothes and gadgets and weapons make it really hard to hug and cuddle, but for now it’s more than enough to make Bokuto feel warm and content and loved.
“Although…” Akaashi starts suddenly, his tone slightly ominous. “There are a few important things we should talk about.”
“Shhh, no, no, no. Not today,” he stops him, squeezing him again and hugging him closer “Today let’s just hug and be happy.”
Akaashi sighs, but he doesn’t fight it.
“You’ll have to give us an answer someday, sooner or later. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, yeah…”
“And if you don’t want to, then it’ll have to come from Shadow. Or Wildcat. Or Decoy.”
Bokuto pulls back so he can frown at Akaashi
“Akaashi, can you not bring my teammates up when we’re hugging and when your leg is still pressed up against my dick please?”
Akaashi looks like he’s about to say something, most likely something really clever and annoying knowing how he is, but all of a sudden a loud screeching noise comes from Bokuto’s earpiece and cuts right through his brain like a dagger, causing him to gasp in surprise and pain
“Ow — ow, shit!” he exclaims under his breath, shoving Akaashi away from him so he can cup his ear with his hand in a feeble attempt to soothe the pain.
“Bokuto-san? What is it?” Akaashi asks him, a worried look on his face, and he has his hands stretched out like he wants to hold Bokuto, but he isn’t sure. “Are you okay?”
“Comet?” Another voice speaks right into Bokuto’s ear then. It’s a bit grainy and distorted, but it’s unmistakably Kenma’s. “If you don’t say anything, I’m gonna assume you’re dead and send Ocicat after Gravity’s ass.”
Bokuto sighs, but then hisses when another wave of interference makes his brain feel like it’s being tickled with knives.
“I’m right here, Wildcat,” he speaks into the intercom. “It’s all good.”
“No, it’s not,” Kenma retorts. “There was an armed robbery just two streets away from you ten minutes ago.”
“What?”
“Decoy got it.”
“Oh, no…”
“You were offline for a long time, Comet. That’s… it’s not good.”
“I know,” Bokuto hisses, nodding. He hates getting his ear pulled metaphorically speaking, especially by Kenma, because whenever he says something it’s never personal. It’s just objective truth. If he scolds Bokuto then it’s because Bokuto did something that is objectively not good for their team. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
Kenma just hums and replies with another question.
“Is your boyfriend gone?”
“He’s not my boy…” he starts, but then he stops himself when he realizes that Akaashi is indeed gone. The word ‘friend’ lingers in the air, and Bokuto’s mood plummets instantly.
He didn’t get to say goodbye.
“Yes,” he speaks into the intercom. “He’s gone now.”
“Good!” that’s Yaku, not Kenma, and he sounds annoyed. He’s probably more than caught up by now with what is going on and isn’t very happy. “Hopefully he’ll stay gone and out of our business for long enough.”
“Hey,” Bokuto frowns. “Don’t say it like that.”
“I’ll say whatever I want about everyone in the ILH, you can’t stop me.”
“Okay, fair, but Gravity’s not— he’s not like that.”
Yaku laughs into his end of the intercom. “They’re all like that, but alright.”
Unexpectedly, Hinata speaks after that.
“Y’know, I only know Kage— I mean, Crowking,” he corrects himself. “Crowking. I know him, in real life, and he’s. Ah. How to say it…”
“Stick up his ass?” Yaku suggests, and Hinata breaks into laughter.
“No!” He denies at first, but then he caves in. “Okay, maybe a little bit.”
“See?” Yaku says. “They’re all like that, I’m telling you!”
Kenma scoffs.
“Anyway. Are you done? Because there is something going down in an alley in Shinjuku and, Ocelot, you’re the closest. It should show up in your map, I’ll mark the location.”
Bokuto sighs, but it doesn’t release any tension. He hates it, that tension in his muscles, but he can’t do anything about it.
Kenma keeps giving instructions and information into one of his ears, but Bokuto is only half listening.
God, he’s tired.
Maybe he’d be okay if Akaashi had massaged his head a few minutes longer, but then again, he missed stopping a crime precisely because Akaashi was massaging him. With his mouth.
No good.
Bokuto pouts to himself and gives one last look around the alley to make sure Akaashi’s really gone, and he shouldn’t be sad to confirm that he is, but he is sad, so sue him.
He picks up his bow sadly and then goes up to the residues of foam from the arrow he shot before to sadly return it to his quiver.
When he looks up, the moon is still shining bright and full like a glowing rice ball just like it was a few hours ago.
He hums to himself as he starts making his way up the fire escape of the building.
Maybe tomorrow, after training with the national volleyball team, he can surprise Akaashi in his office with his favorite onigiri.