Sports Drabbles: Volleyball

When the break in his wing heals, Bokuto takes up the bizarrely human pursuit of weightlifting.

He’s already well-muscled from flying, especially through his back and core, and even though his bones are hollow and feather-light, he’s strong. Which means that Akaashi doesn’t quite understand, when he asks, why Bokuto’s explanation is a simple, “To be stronger.”

The exercises are improvised and a little ridiculous, but Akaashi knows better, by now, than to laugh when Bokuto puts earnest effort into something. So when Bokuto takes Akaashi’s heaviest free weights in hand and does set after set of jump-hop takeoffs, bouncing around his home like an oversized starling, Akaashi simply chooses an exercise of his own and works beside him.

It’s nice, he thinks. The company. And he feels guilty for thinking it, because Bokuto had been miserable through his convalescence and is completely delighted with his ability to return to the sky, to travel over the lands and seas and clouds again… to leave Akaashi alone. Even if Bokuto is going to spend most of his time with Akaashi with weights in his hands, at least he’s there.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto says one day, bright and intense and with the afternoon sun slanting through his feathers and making them glow. “Akaashi, I want to show you something.”

He holds out his hand, and Akaashi, ever-willing, takes it without hesitation. Bokuto pulls him eagerly out onto the balcony, and Akaashi opens his mouth but before he can speak Bokuto heaves him up, bridal style -- Akaashi can feel Bokuto’s strong, fluttering heartbeat and his own quickens in response.

And then, Bokuto jumps.

It takes everything Akaashi has not to shout in alarm; instead, he scrabbles for a hold on Bokuto’s shirt, and tries to ground himself with the feeling of Bokuto’s chest firm under his hand.

It’s difficult, with the sensation of air rushing around his feet.

“Akaashi. Akaashi, open your eyes.”

“Bokuto --”

“Trust me. I won’t let you fall.”

So Akaashi opens his eyes.

The world is different, viewed from above. Everything looks flat, like a painting, and Akaashi’s grip slackens unconsciously as he watches. The sun is warm on his face, and Bokuto’s wings swish in near silence. “Oh,” he breathes.

Bokuto’s arm twitches under his back, and when Akaashi looks, Bokuto is grinning a squinty-eyed smile, one that stretches from ear-to-ear. He flicks his eyes forward, and the grin widens, and he says, “Hold on a sec.”

Akaashi wonders what else, exactly, Bokuto expects he could do. He dutifully maintains his hold on Bokuto’s shoulder and watches his face and his wings.

They land in a tree, Bokuto flapping heavily on the descent and if it’s not the most graceful landing Akaashi’s ever seen him do, he’s not complaining.

Bokuto wraps a wing around Akaashi’s shoulders. It’s warm from the sun and exertion and Akaashi leans ever-so-slightly into the touch.

“I wanted to show you,” Bokuto says simply, staring out at the sun. “I had to get stronger so you could see.”

And Akaashi sees.