~o~
The heartbeat of the city chants Barnaby's name and Kotetsu watches as his partner is pulled in a million different directions. Everyone wants to congratulate, thank, interview and otherwise gush about the amazing Hero who stopped Ouroboros.
Kotetsu wouldn't have it any other way.
It is a fucking glorious beautiful day where justice has been served and everyone is cheering them on and nothing can bring him down, not even petty injuries.
He watches the smile on Barnaby's face, catches his bright green eyes over the shoulders of the reporters, tips his hat.
There's a flash in Barnaby's expression, so swift that no one else catches the disappointment, but he can't get away now. Kotetsu is out the door before anyone else even notices he's gone.
The sun is fading in the western sky and the wind is kicking up, making it a brisk walk away from the hospital. Kotetsu's eyes are on the lights tonight, though, the thousands of shining windows and the brush of stars beyond, and he trips along to his regular pub with a skip in his step.
Sitting down at the bar, he orders his favorite Super Hero drink in celebration, and only once the frosted glass is between his hands does he let everything else catch up in a rush.
Kotetsu doesn't need the accolades – it's always been enough that the city is safe and his friends are alive – but tonight is an extra celebration. Today he earned the respect of his partner, and that means a lot more, more than he'd guessed.
He tips the drink back, downing it in 1-2-3 gulps, and cheerfully orders another. Generally, he makes it a rule not to drink alone while out, but tonight is different.
Bunny trusted me…
It is their success, working together, that's made today possible. Even if Kotetsu had somewhat-sort of tricked him into it. So what? So what if he'd taken a leap of faith in thinking that Barnaby would trust him despite his idiotic reasoning? Barnaby did trust him now, he'd… he'd called Kotetsu by his real name for the first time ever. Surely it's a sign of trust?
Kotetsu slams his second glass down and orders a third, laughs at himself when he realizes he's so happy he's tearing up. He is such a damn, sentimental fool. Barnaby would surely laugh at him and call him such, if he was here.
The walk home is easier due to the warmth in Kotetsu's belly, but he feels almost disappointed when he arrives at his flat to find the same, empty beer-can ridden space as usual. Kicking his shoes off in the doorway, he loosens his tie and sets his hat on the designated hook.
He is a little bit tipsy, still, and in an effort to hang onto his good mood, he passes up his usual cheap beer in favor of his favorite whiskey. No one ought to be looking for him tonight anyway.
It's late and he skips the couch in favor of heading straight upstairs, bottle in hand. The vest and shirt go immediately and he winces at the blood-soaked bandage underneath. Whiskey is fine medicine for sipping regularly while he stands in front of the bathroom mirror, changing it with a grimace, and finally he flops onto his bed in relief, drunk, exhausted and happy.
His call bracelet goes off.
Thankfully, it's only his partner, and Kotetsu slaps the button, staring at the ceiling and smiling. He probably would have ignored anyone else. "Bunny-chan…" he sighs slowly. He's not sure whether the rush of warmth he feels is the whiskey or the sound of his partner's voice on the other end of the line.
"Are you… drunk?" Barnaby's voice sounds suspicious, slightly worried.
Kotetsu laughs at how perceptive he is and holds his wrist up to his face so that Barnaby can see his lazy grin. "Nah. Tired. Injured, remember?"
Barnaby makes a sound of disbelief, then a patient sigh. "You're at home?"
"Yes." Is Barnaby checking up on him?
"I'll see you tomorrow then."
"G'night, Bunny."
A moment's hesitation. "Goodnight, Kotetsu."
The whispery sound of his own name in Barnaby's voice echoes in Kotetsu's mind, a rush even after the call has long-ended and he sighs, his eyes drifting closed as he pictures the genuine smile that had accompanied it earlier today.
Kotetsu.
He doesn't know if he's ever enjoyed the sound of his own name this much, and the sentiment it implies… the sentiment he's been trying to play off for a while now. The sentiment he keeps trying to convince himself is a betrayal of more than one person's trust.
But lately it's impossible to think about Barnaby without remembering that which they do not speak of, and suddenly, Kotetsu's memories of Barnaby saying his name are laced with memories of a different night.
It would be a blatant lie to say he's never replayed that night, the feeling of Barnaby's hands on his shoulders, the crush of those soft lips against his…
But he usually cuts it off there, forces himself not to get carried away, reminds himself of all the reasons they've never mentioned it, all the reasons why it's a bad idea…
But that smile.
That smile of genuine affection, he can't get it out of his mind, can't stop recalling Barnaby's touch and it's… undoing him. He's drunk and uncomfortably hard in his pants and all he can think of is Barnaby's voice…
Kotetsu.
It'll just be this once. He'll give in to it, get over it, and swear never to think of it again. He'll get this insanity out of his system and not ruin the fragile trust he's finally painstakingly built with his partner… with his Bunny.
Just this once, and then he swears, he swears life will just go back to normal.
Kotetsu unbuckles his belt, unzips his pants, and in his mind, he never stopped Barnaby that night. His hand wraps around his hard length, withdrawing it and stroking firmly, but Kotetsu is imagining that it's Barnaby who's touching him, whispering his name over and over. "Bunny…" Kotetsu moans, his thumb circling, spreading the pre-cum to smooth the friction, his hips bucking up into his hand.
Kotetsu.
The little voice of reason that usually holds him back has been drowned, and Kotetsu is lost somewhere between memory and fantasy.
"Bunny…" With the sound of his partner's name still on his lips, Kotetsu lets himself go, coming hard into his hand. His heart is racing and his head is spinning, but he isn't sorry.
There's plenty of time for sorry come the morning, and so he lets himself have just this moment - unspoiled, satiated and triumphant.
In his dreams that night, he's falling, but he never hits the bottom.
~o~
