Boboiboy doesn't know whether he's lucky – or completely cursed – over the fact you've got no idea he's so in love with you.
It's a bright sunny morning, perfect for outdoor training, and he walks with you all the way to the Kokotiam with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. You stretch your arms out in the sky to bask in the morning glow and warmth of the sun, sleeves pushed up to your forearms to "get that vitamin D."
Boboiboy couldn't help but snicker at your statement because you'd totally be getting a different kind of Vitamin D if only you'd notice him. Sometimes he wonders, if he was a normal adult with a normal life instead of always being heroic, would you finally be able to see him – or would you still remain unaware?
He doesn't even know where it began. A year ago, Ato introduced you as the newest girl in town. You'd been so fidgety and nervous then, unsure of what to do and worried that maybe the people wouldn't like you. They did, of course, how could they not? Not only were you extremely fun to be with, but you were also caring, fretting and even crying whenever one of his friends got injured over a mission.
Yaya reminds you all the time that this should be normal for you by now, but you always cry every time, sobbing that "They're still only young and should be out having fun."
Yeah, maybe that's where it began. Your kindness struck a chord in Boboiboy's heart, and before he knew it, he was falling for you. Hard. Next thing you know, he shows up five minutes before you leave your house, playfully saluting you before inviting you to breakfast. He does this every damn day, and you still don't get a single thing.
"That café was really good," you muse, fingers stretching outwards and giggling as the sun peeks through the spaces. Boboiboy sighs beside you, wanting nothing more than to slip his fingers through those softer ones. "We should go back there sometime. Maybe even take the gang with us this weekend so we can all have breakfast together!"
Boboiboy masks a snicker with a cough. It reminds him of the time, Pipi called you mom and dad while you three were playing, to which you happily responded with before tackling the girl in hugs, while the earth's mighty hero only flushed in embarrassment.
Him being him though, Boboiboy played it off cool, flipping his hair before striking a pose. "Huh, a dad?" He smirks, "The only person who gets to call me daddy would be no one else but Y/N."
The brown-haired teen immediately recoils in disgust. Meanwhile, the innuendo flies straight through you, and you peer up at him innocently with your head tilted to the side. "Daddy? Why would I call you my dad? My father is still alive and well, and I don't see you marrying my mom or anything," Just as teen Pipi nearly howls in laughter – you snap your fingers, the light bulb above your head practically shining. "Oh, I get it! You prefer younger women and you want them to call you that! Kind of like the hype for onii-chan nowadays."
Hopeless, Boboiboy wants to say, you're absolutely, utterly hopeless.
"Hmm, I don't know," Boboiboy shrugs nonchalantly, sending a smirk your way. It usually drives everyone crazy, but you only smile back up at him in the same way you smile with everyone, and he tries his best to not show his shoulders are deflating. Nevertheless, he doesn't give up. "How about you and I go out somewhere this weekend? The movies, perhaps?"
Say yes, say yes – please say yes.
Really though, he's waiting for that 'no' already. Boboiboy knows you always go out of town during the weekends to visit your family in Japan, only coming back on Monday the next week with a basket of fruits and traditional goods that isn't so easy to find in the city.
But then you clasp your hands together in excitement, lashes fluttering delicately as you beam up at him. "Really? You'd like to go to the movies with me?"
"Of course I would," Boboiboy tries not to stutter, hiding the fact that he's completely taken aback. He's the Amato Boboiboy for heaven's sake, the one who saved the galaxy! He shouldn't be this affected by anyone's presence. "What makes you think I wouldn't want to?"
"Oh, nothing, I just thought you were busy. This Saturday, then?"
Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, it's actually happening– his mind was barely functioning at this point, and he even slapped his cheeks to snap him back to life. "I thought there was a fly," he lied with a chuckle, "But yeah, Saturday. I'll pick you up?"
"Yeah, sure!"
Boboiboy wouldn't stop smiling the whole way to the school. Even when Fang had face planted into the ground and Gopal sprained his ankle from training, he wasn't able to get rid of the ridiculously big smile that stretched across his lips. He's floating in cloud nine, flowers erupting from his ears and heart-shaped emojis bursting in his background.
"Well, you look creepy...." Fang commented in the Kokotiam, the moment you excused yourself, "Did you land a date with her or something?"
"That I did," he stated proudly, even banging his fist on his chest like a deranged form of King Kong.
"I can only hope Y/N will be okay with you..." Yaya announces from behind beside Fang, holding the mug of cocoa, narrowed eyes dead set on the elemental hero. "Don't be too wild with her, Boboiboy. She's a gentle soul despite being a sorcerer – I suggest you don't mess with her feelings."
"Are you kidding me? She's the one messing with my feelings by being so fucking cute all the time!"
"Who's cute?"
Fang nearly spits out his coffee the moment you came back, glancing around the place and sitting down next to a shock-still Boboiboy. Yaya only huffs in her seat with a shake of her head. It doesn't take long before Boboiboy regains his confidence and recovers from his shock – he's turned to you with his torso completely facing your way.
You bask in the attention, mimicking the gesture until your faces are mere inches from one another. The fact you're so responsive and attentive to him yet still painfully naïve strikes a mental war of himself debating whether he wants to kiss you or knock your head upside down. Boboiboy chooses neither options as he leans closer, his smile growing wider when you don't pull away, and he doesn't stop moving until his lips are right beside the shell of your ear.
"You're cute."
Yaya shudders at the same time Fang just gives up on everything, standing up from his seat before leaving the place. Boboiboy patiently waits for your reaction; for you to crumble this time around.
You're silent for a moment, brows almost right across each other when you register his words. Boboiboy ends up holding his breath for your next words, wondering: is this it? will she finally understand what I feel for her now?
Even Yaya ends up sitting at the edge of her seat, silently watching the exchange with interest barely hidden in her sparkling eyes. Boboiboy watches as your lips open, his eyes transfixed on the way the soft flesh moves. They tilt upwards, revealing a set of wide smile – the smile he can never get enough of. "Thank you!" you giggle at his compliment, "You and Yaya are very cute too! And the gang too, especially Fang! Not that I'm saying he's my favorite—"
"He's definitely your favorite friend," snorts Yaya who is ignoring the way Boboiboy turns completely gray beside you.
It turns out you still haven't figured it out after all.
"The gang this – the gang that," the tall, heroic adult whines, his head falling forward on the counter. He looks so utterly defeated you can't help but lean over him to check if he's okay, but Boboiboy pouts and hides his face under his signature jacket instead. "Why can it never be just the two of us?"
"Sorry, what did you say?"
This time, you've leaned closer to him— almost hovering a bit over him. You even pluck his jacket off to see how he's doing, and suddenly thankful you can't see the way his cheeks are absolutely flaming right now because the inside of his jacket is a bit dark.
"Nothing," he assures, his smile hidden behind his jacket. You look absolutely adorable hovering over him like that – eyes wide and lips pouty – what he wouldn't give to kiss those lips right now, but it isn't the right time, and Boboiboy just needs to find a better way to tell you how he feels. "It's nothing."
It's absolutely not nothing.
─── ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ ───
Saturday couldn't come faster.
Boboiboy finds himself willing time to go faster. Once the awaited day finally comes, he wastes no time in choosing his best outfit; an oversized black shirt tucked into black skinny jeans before styling his hair up the way he likes.
He winks at his reflection in the mirror, going ooh and aah at how hot he looks. It's another reason why he can't comprehend why you don't like him yet, when, uhm, he knows he looks damn good? He's pretty funny and charming too – and his strength and power are already a no-brainer. Boboiboy can't wrap his head around any possible reason why you wouldn't like him; it's basically a life-or-death mission at this point.
With that end goal in his mind and a spritz of perfume later, Boboiboy sashays out his apartment. Even though it's already dark outside and he spent the whole day walking back and forth in his room trying to come up with ways to confess to you, he acts coolly all the way to your apartment.
This time around, he's more than confident. He's going to have you wrapped around his pretty little finger, "Wow," is the first thing he says once he took one look at you.
Boboiboy feels blessed in that exact moment to witness how the heavens took their time with you, creating only the best out of the best and birthing the most magnificent person ever. Suddenly, he grows an urge to run to Japan and thank your parents for going funky one night and creating you, because you're an absolutely magnificent gift and it really baffles him how you're real.
"Wow," he repeats again, and you chuckle when he shakes his head. "You look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful."
"Thank you," you look him up and down, smiling in satisfaction. "You look very handsome yourself."
Boboiboy's been called handsome a million times before it's gotten too much in his head already, but hearing it come from your lips hits differently. If he was excited before, it's nothing compared to what he feels now when you loop your arm through his, dangling off his arm like you were a lover.
He knows it's not real and this is probably just a friendly date for you – something he intends to clear up later – but it doesn't stop him from puffing his chest up a bit, almost as if bragging to everyone around you that he was the one you're with and that he was the one you're going to the movies with.
All your babbles about everything goes straight into one ear and out the other. He wants to listen to you, he really does, but he's so intoxicated with your voice that he just ends up nodding at everything you say; his attention is mostly on how sweet you sound and smell.
His feelings only intensify a hundred times more when you finally make it to the theatre. Not only is it dark, but you're sitting right next to him, arms and thighs brushing against each other. He takes note of every little movement you make, smiling to himself when you don't pull away from his thigh flush against yours.
In this close proximity, your perfume overwhelms his senses. He finds himself leaning closer just to get a little more taste of it, his arm resting on the armrest beside him and placing his cheek on his open palm.
He doesn't even know what the movie is about. All he can see, hear, feel, and recognize is you – nothing and no one but you. Just as he wanted, it's just the two of you.
Boboiboy reaches out to the bowl of popcorn in his lap to distract himself from the need of kissing you already. He was so smug that he was on this date with you; now he feels like the world is laughing and mocking at him because you're so close yet so far away. The last thing he wants is to say something weird and have you running for the hills. It's clear you don't like him, after all.
You end up reaching for it the same time he does, making your fingers brush. It sends a jolt of electricity down his spine and he immediately retracts it.
Looking up at him with an apologetic smile, Boboiboy knows he's messed up. "I'm sorry," you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender with a nervous chuckle. "I should've gotten my own bowl instead."
Boboiboy just stares at you. You're close enough that he can count your lashes – both top and bottom row – and he's so stupefied at this point that he just says the first thing that comes to his mind; absolutely anything just to get your attention. "Cold," he shows you his hand, even though he knows he can just transform into Blaze and let himself get warm. "I'm cold."
"Oh," you nod and slip your fingers through his. Boboiboy nearly gasps at how electrifying the sensation is from having your smaller, softer fingers collide with his, your hands fitting perfectly in his bigger, calloused ones. Then, you close your intertwined hands and smush your cheek with it to transfer your heat – completely unaware that Boboiboy feels like he's floating in his own Infinite Void right now. "Feel warmer now?"
"Yes," he replies. "Extremely."
Something beast-like wakes within him after that. Now that he knows you don't mind touching him at all, Boboiboy can't help but want to take out all his playing cards and just go fuck it. So he does – and he might regret, he might not – who cares? It's just the two of you, and you're the only one he ever cares about this much that he'd pretty much let you do anything at this point.
"You know," Boboiboy begins, shifting until your joined hands are resting on top of his chest. His heart is just about ready to burst through its confines at this moment, but he holds back. It's now or never. "Yaya and Fang... Screw that.. The gang are annoyed that I talk about you all the time."
Your eyes widen at his statement. "Really? Do you talk badly about me or something?"
"No," he nearly groans in frustration, "You're really pretty and cool. You're amazing during missions with us, and when you fight, it's like I'm witnessing a warrior princess. So cool."
This makes you laugh until the person sitting behind you rudely shushes you. You bow your head in apology, turning to Boboiboy with a softer smile this time; one that looks reserved and private compared to your big grins. "Oh, no," he closes his eyes, "Don't smile at me like that. I don't think I'll still be cool if I end up stuttering over my words."
"Boboiboy!" you whisper-hiss, although your chest is filled with so much giddiness too that you've both forgotten about the movie; unaware that the entire theatre was crying over the main character's friend's death. "What are you going on about?"
He wants to laugh so damn hard. He thought confessing his feelings for you would end up in a pitiful heartbreak that you'd be weirded out and push him away. For a moment, he forgets it's you, and that nothing is ever difficult or painful with you – other than, of course, you being oblivious, but that isn't something he can't fix. He'll get you on the train one way or another.
"I have a confession."
"Yeah?"
"I was practicing how to ask you out for a whole hour in the mirror," Boboiboy whispers, careful to not ruin the melancholic mood of theatre. It doesn't even surprise him that his world is filled with nothing but sunshine even if the world around him has descended into grief and loneliness. "I also called Gopal on first date tips."
"Gopal?" you echo with a gasp, "Why Gopal?"
"Because he's married, that's why. Mans know some tips for sure."
"Wait, so," you chuckle nervously, and Boboiboy waits, waits for you to pull away or push him back – anything that would indicate discomfort. He's patient the whole time, watching carefully as you only squeeze his hand and gesture to the both of you with your free one. "This is a date? Our first date?"
"Only if you want to be," Boboiboy shrugs, grimacing afterward at how sappy he sounds. "Well, I actually consider this our first date and I've been waiting for this for like forever now, so I sure as hell hope you want this too. I didn't dress myself up today only to come back home crying."
Boboiboy's heart – if possible – only beats crazier and sings the syllables of your name when you start laughing harder to the point you have to muffle it by burying yourself in his bicep. He feels like his muscles and nerves could erupt at any moment. It's crazy – absolutely insane – how you have him wrapped around your finger like this. He doesn't complain though; he never will.
"I'm glad," you mumble through his shirt, your erratic heartbeat matching kiss when you take the first tentative step of kissing his jaw.
Boboiboy stiffens underneath you, a low growl ripping from his throat. He's feral, wild, drunk at the sight and scent of you. You make him feel like he's fluctuating between dimensions, all the planets just crashing on one another until the stardust is left in your eyes because what else could be an explanation for what he's feeling other than a supernova collision of hearts?
"You always make me feel so happy when you're around that I still can't believe you feel the same way. I was so worried that maybe you wouldn't get my hints."
Boboiboy groans, "What the hell? How long have you liked me?"
"I guess when you started bringing flowers to Fang randomly just to piss him off."
Boboiboy wants to rip his hair out. That was just a few weeks after you started helping them with missions, meaning you both have liked each other this whole time and he's been suffering and feeling stupid just for nothing?
"God, Y/N," he mutters to himself, "You really do know how to make a man go crazy, huh?"
That innocent smile on your face lets him know that as usual, you're oblivious to everything. Boboiboy is right; he still can't decide whether he wants to whack you in the head upside down. With a sigh, he ends up choosing the latter, nearly falling over his seat when you let out a surprised yelp at the feeling of his lips on yours.
It doesn't take long before you grab onto his shirt and cling to dear life, laughter bubbling through your lips as you kiss. The sound is so precious he wants to bottle it up and keep its treasure for the rest of his life, but Boboiboy doesn't rush anything.
With you and only with you is he ever capable of feeling like it's just the two of you in a world filled with chaos and destruction.