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Tugging the hood over your head, you hauled yourself up off the ground and made your way towards the metal railing, just next to the half-pipe. Denki paid you no mind, too focused on not eating shit as he went up the ramp, suspending himself in the air for a moment, before gracefully gliding back down and repeating the process over again.

You never got tired of watching him. In fact, the more you watched Denki skate the more entranced you were. Unlike him, you had no coordination on a board whatsoever; you were lucky to be able to just stand on the thing, let alone actually move along with it. So it was always a treat for you whenever you had the chance to witness your boyfriend in his element, taking control of the board and wielding it under his feet as if it were a weapon, streaking across metal railings and drifting on curved concrete. Other than the band, you’ve never seen him enjoy himself so much.

Speaking of which…

“Hey skater boy!” you called out. “Let’s go, you’re late!”

Denki paused, glancing over from where he stood atop the half-pipe. He flashed you an angelic smile, making your heart skip a beat as he came down, planting his feet firmly on the ground and stopping right in front of you. He tugged his beanie off, golden hair messily framing his flushed face. You reached over and gently brushed his bangs away with the sleeve of your—his—hoodie, laughing softly when Denki tilted his head up, bumping his nose against the curve of your wrist.

“Having fun?” you asked, bringing your hand back down. 

“Yeah, thanks, I really...I really needed this,” he said breathlessly, bending down and picking the skateboard up, tucking it under his arm. With his other, he threw it around your shoulder and pulled you close, leading you out of the skatepark.

“Good, ‘cause now Jiro’s gonna chew my ass out for making you late,” you snorted.

“I mean, it’s quite a walk to the venue, and we’re never gonna get there quick enough if we just walk.” Denki shrugged nonchalantly, trying and failing to keep the rising smirk off his face. You raised an eyebrow, freezing in your tracks and stepping away from his hold.

“What are you implying?”

His smirk widened, eyes drifting down to the board in his hands, and that’s when it clicked. Immediately, you whipped around and began fast-walking down the street, ignoring your boyfriend’s mirthful laughter as he jogged to catch up with you.

“Oh, c’mon–”

“Denks, I am not riding that thing.”

“Why–”

You threw him a look over your shoulder, unamused at the bouts of giggles bursting through his lips. Denki wasn’t stupid—he knew the reason why, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy seeing you squirm about it every now and then.

He finally caught up to you, steps slowing down as he grabbed onto your hand and slipping his fingers between yours. You pretended not to notice the way your skin flared up at the sudden gesture. Instead, you buried your face in the collar of the hoodie, relaxing as the familiar scent of lavender and sandalwood permeated your senses.

“I’ll hold your hand the whole time if it makes you feel better–ack!” he yelped when you firmly elbowed him in the side.

“Are you kidding me? I told you to be here by five, and it’s almost fifteen minutes past. Denki, I swear if you didn’t need your hands today I would’ve broken them by now.” Jiro jabbed the blond's chest with her finger, brows furrowed in frustration and lips downturned in a disappointed pout. From where you sat on the leather couch, an amused snicker left your lips.

You regretted it almost instantly as her attention was now brought on you, and you braced yourself.

“You—don’t even get me started on–”

“Jiro,” Eijirou scolded lightly, coming up behind and placing his hand on her shoulder. “We’re on in five, get ready. You can yell at them later.”

No sooner than the words left the redhead’s lips did their manager stumble into the room, headset resting crookedly upon his face. 

“What are you all still doing here? The fans are waiting, let’s go!” He gestured hurriedly. 

The other members of the band quickly followed suit, each of them picking up their respective instruments; Jiro with her guitar, Eijirou with his bass, and Denki with his drumsticks. You trailed along behind them, chest vibrating at the sheer noise coming from the crowd as you neared the stage. 

Once they were behind the wings, Jiro pulled them into a huddle, wrapping their arms around each other’s shoulders. You stayed back and gazed at them with a soft smile on your face, occasionally taking a peek through the curtains. Compared to other venues, this one was significantly less impressive in terms of space and audience number, but the screams and shouts of support from the crowd definitely rivaled those of bigger venues. 

The band finished their huddle with a simple chant, and almost immediately, the stage lights dimmed, causing the audience to scream even louder—if that were even possible. You sat back on one of the crates, heart racing as you watched Jiro run on stage, followed closely by Eijirou. But instead of going along with them, Denki swiftly turned around and strode over to you.

Your expression fell into one of confusion. “Denks, what are you–”

You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence before his lips connected with yours. His free hand, the one that wasn’t holding his drumsticks, tenderly cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek. The kiss was delicate and warm, like a single flutter of a butterfly’s wing on your lips, and it was just so like Denki you couldn’t help but tug him even closer. A pleased hum sounded from his throat as his hand fell to your waist, squeezing your side. 

“Hey Denks! If you’re done sucking face, we need you out here! Don’t make me come back there and drag you,” Jiro announced into her mic, rolling her eyes as the audience members erupted into even louder cheers.

A laugh bubbled out from your lips and you pulled away, resting your forehead against his. His eyes were open and peering intently into your own, causing your face to flare up once again. You pushed your hand against his chest.

“Go,” you urged. “Don’t give Jiro another reason to yell at us.”

Denki didn’t move away for a second, but then he surged forward once more, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. 

“Cheer for me, yeah?” he breathed.

“Always.”

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