Ship/Character: Kenma/Hinata Fandom: Haikyuu!! Major Tags: None Other Tags: anxiety, this is Soft Word Count: 962 Remix Permission: yes
aaaaaa this was my first time writing kenhina (and i think kenma's POV?? even though i love him) so i hope it's ok!!;;
***
Kenma is staring at Shouyou. Shouyou has noticed and looked up more than once, each time only flashing him a smile before silently returning to playing Pokémon Diamond on Kenma’s DS Lite. Kenma is allegedly playing Sun on his 3DS, but really he is staring at Shouyou.
Shouyou looks up again now, and Kenma ducks his head, letting his hair fall over his ears to curtain the sides of his face in the way that always makes him feel less exposed. From the corner of his eye he sees Shouyou once again offer him a smile and resume his game.
It’s strange to see him so quiet, even though Kenma was the one to request it.
He does feel bad about it. Shouyou came all the way to Tokyo to hang out with him, after all. They’d planned this weeks in advance, but then the day had come and Kenma woke up and checked his phone first thing as always, since he sometimes plays games for a bit before getting up, and there’d been just enough text messages in his inbox that his blanket suddenly felt suffocating in the way it pressed him into his mattress. Lying paralyzed and unable to respond to any of Shouyou’s or Kuro’s or Lev’s texts, Kenma realized he couldn’t do this, actually. This was not going to be a day where he could function normally.
He tried, at first, for Shouyou. He likes Shouyou, a lot, wants Shouyou to like him back. Kenma’s not shy about being himself, but this is different. He knows he’s not normal when his thoughts become too much, overflowing and spiraling into oblivion, when the surrounding sights and scents and sounds beat down on him all at once.
Shouyou’s not an idiot. Kenma knew he could tell something was off as he chattered on over lunch and Kenma responded even less than usual. But Shouyou didn’t know what to do about it and Kenma didn’t know how to tell him that each heartbeat was a stab in his chest, so Shouyou’s only solution was to keep talking. And talking. And talking.
Finally, Kenma broke. He stood, pushing his chair back with an ugly scrape, and dragged his fingers across the table’s polished wooden surface to clench his hand into a fist. His head was pounding.
“Kenma?” Shouyou said, reaching a hesitant hand out to him.
“Can we not talk for a bit?” Kenma asked.
Shouyou opened his mouth to reply but then, seemingly taking the words to heart, nodded.
Kenma talked quietly, told Shouyou he wanted to build a pillow fort. Shouyou nodded and dutifully followed as they retrieved cushions from the living room couches and carried them to Kenma’s bedroom.
Kenma’s made pillow forts loads of times with Kuro. It’s routine for them, but he wasn’t expecting Shouyou to move with an ease like he’s done it a hundred times before. Kenma wondered if his pillow fort-building proficiency came from having a little sister, but his voice was still stuck in his throat and he kept finding his jaw unintentionally clenched, so in the end he said nothing and they assembled the pillow fort in silence. Kenma brought his desk chair over and as he and Shouyou spread the blanket out over the fort and chair, their eyes met, and Shouyou smiled his usual big grin at him.
And still he said nothing.
Loud, talkative Shouyou. Kenma didn’t realize he could be so quiet, but he’s wearing the silence like it’s natural to him even now, upwards of an hour huddled in their pillow fort.
It’s dark. Before crawling into their finished fort, Kenma had pulled his curtains shut. A small flashlight stands in the corner of the fort, filling the small space with a dim yellow light.
Kenma watches and watches Shouyou.
Shouyou hasn’t questioned any of this, not even once. Kenma doesn’t need to explain that sometimes the world is all too much and he needs to retreat for a little, that he feels safest within cushioned walls of his own making. He doesn’t need to explain that in here is his own world, in here he can take his time to reset himself, as long as he needs.
He doesn’t need to explain anything because Shouyou doesn’t need answers.
He accepts Kenma as he is.
The realization settles something inside Kenma. He thinks maybe he could talk now, if he wanted, but the silence Shouyou has given him feels so precious, he doesn’t want to break it.
Instead, he watches and watches Shouyou, watches the way his face twists to exaggerated degrees as he battles a gym leader in-game, no less expressive for his silence.
He watches and watches and he thinks—
He thinks—
Kenma reaches out and touches the tips of Shouyou’s fingers with his own. Shouyou’s head shoots up. His features are softer in the diffused yellow glow of the flashlight, away from the harsher white light of the Nintendo DS screen, but his eyes remain sharp, intent and focused on Kenma’s face.
I think—
He leans forward slowly, so slowly. He’s never done this before. He doesn’t know if the mood is right, if the timing is right—he knows he’s moving out of nowhere—but he wants, and, inexplicably, Shouyou gets it. Even more inexplicably, he accepts it, just like everything else. He closes his eyes and leans in, lips parting slightly and tongue dashing over the lower lip in anticipation.
—I want—
Kenma can’t breathe for a second, eyes transfixed on Shouyou’s damp lip, but he’s kept Shouyou waiting long enough today so Kenma screws up his courage and presses forward. It’s chaste, just a light pressure, but it’s oh so warm, and Kenma exhales softly against Hinata’s lips.
FILL: Team Grandstand, G
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: anxiety, this is Soft
Word Count: 962
Remix Permission: yes
aaaaaa this was my first time writing kenhina (and i think kenma's POV?? even though i love him) so i hope it's ok!!;;
***
Kenma is staring at Shouyou. Shouyou has noticed and looked up more than once, each time only flashing him a smile before silently returning to playing Pokémon Diamond on Kenma’s DS Lite. Kenma is allegedly playing Sun on his 3DS, but really he is staring at Shouyou.
Shouyou looks up again now, and Kenma ducks his head, letting his hair fall over his ears to curtain the sides of his face in the way that always makes him feel less exposed. From the corner of his eye he sees Shouyou once again offer him a smile and resume his game.
It’s strange to see him so quiet, even though Kenma was the one to request it.
He does feel bad about it. Shouyou came all the way to Tokyo to hang out with him, after all. They’d planned this weeks in advance, but then the day had come and Kenma woke up and checked his phone first thing as always, since he sometimes plays games for a bit before getting up, and there’d been just enough text messages in his inbox that his blanket suddenly felt suffocating in the way it pressed him into his mattress. Lying paralyzed and unable to respond to any of Shouyou’s or Kuro’s or Lev’s texts, Kenma realized he couldn’t do this, actually. This was not going to be a day where he could function normally.
He tried, at first, for Shouyou. He likes Shouyou, a lot, wants Shouyou to like him back. Kenma’s not shy about being himself, but this is different. He knows he’s not normal when his thoughts become too much, overflowing and spiraling into oblivion, when the surrounding sights and scents and sounds beat down on him all at once.
Shouyou’s not an idiot. Kenma knew he could tell something was off as he chattered on over lunch and Kenma responded even less than usual. But Shouyou didn’t know what to do about it and Kenma didn’t know how to tell him that each heartbeat was a stab in his chest, so Shouyou’s only solution was to keep talking. And talking. And talking.
Finally, Kenma broke. He stood, pushing his chair back with an ugly scrape, and dragged his fingers across the table’s polished wooden surface to clench his hand into a fist. His head was pounding.
“Kenma?” Shouyou said, reaching a hesitant hand out to him.
“Can we not talk for a bit?” Kenma asked.
Shouyou opened his mouth to reply but then, seemingly taking the words to heart, nodded.
Kenma talked quietly, told Shouyou he wanted to build a pillow fort. Shouyou nodded and dutifully followed as they retrieved cushions from the living room couches and carried them to Kenma’s bedroom.
Kenma’s made pillow forts loads of times with Kuro. It’s routine for them, but he wasn’t expecting Shouyou to move with an ease like he’s done it a hundred times before. Kenma wondered if his pillow fort-building proficiency came from having a little sister, but his voice was still stuck in his throat and he kept finding his jaw unintentionally clenched, so in the end he said nothing and they assembled the pillow fort in silence. Kenma brought his desk chair over and as he and Shouyou spread the blanket out over the fort and chair, their eyes met, and Shouyou smiled his usual big grin at him.
And still he said nothing.
Loud, talkative Shouyou. Kenma didn’t realize he could be so quiet, but he’s wearing the silence like it’s natural to him even now, upwards of an hour huddled in their pillow fort.
It’s dark. Before crawling into their finished fort, Kenma had pulled his curtains shut. A small flashlight stands in the corner of the fort, filling the small space with a dim yellow light.
Kenma watches and watches Shouyou.
Shouyou hasn’t questioned any of this, not even once. Kenma doesn’t need to explain that sometimes the world is all too much and he needs to retreat for a little, that he feels safest within cushioned walls of his own making. He doesn’t need to explain that in here is his own world, in here he can take his time to reset himself, as long as he needs.
He doesn’t need to explain anything because Shouyou doesn’t need answers.
He accepts Kenma as he is.
The realization settles something inside Kenma. He thinks maybe he could talk now, if he wanted, but the silence Shouyou has given him feels so precious, he doesn’t want to break it.
Instead, he watches and watches Shouyou, watches the way his face twists to exaggerated degrees as he battles a gym leader in-game, no less expressive for his silence.
He watches and watches and he thinks—
He thinks—
Kenma reaches out and touches the tips of Shouyou’s fingers with his own. Shouyou’s head shoots up. His features are softer in the diffused yellow glow of the flashlight, away from the harsher white light of the Nintendo DS screen, but his eyes remain sharp, intent and focused on Kenma’s face.
I think—
He leans forward slowly, so slowly. He’s never done this before. He doesn’t know if the mood is right, if the timing is right—he knows he’s moving out of nowhere—but he wants, and, inexplicably, Shouyou gets it. Even more inexplicably, he accepts it, just like everything else. He closes his eyes and leans in, lips parting slightly and tongue dashing over the lower lip in anticipation.
—I want—
Kenma can’t breathe for a second, eyes transfixed on Shouyou’s damp lip, but he’s kept Shouyou waiting long enough today so Kenma screws up his courage and presses forward. It’s chaste, just a light pressure, but it’s oh so warm, and Kenma exhales softly against Hinata’s lips.
—to kiss you.