Work Text:
"Koutarou, please don’t run!"
"Ah, shit. Right. Sorry."
Bokuto slows down his pace, returning beside Kenma and squeezes the hand wrapped into his. The blond squeezes back and laughs slightly, showing him that he’s not mad.
It’s not Koutarou’s fault. Well, he can’t help himself even if he tries; he is too excited. He is so happy to have won his game, and knowing Kenma had been there to encourage him makes it even better. So when he proposed getting ice cream, he got overexcited and ran, pulling Kenma with him.
Hands still holding Kenma’s as usual, he leads the way more calmly, even though he’s bouncing on his feet, unable to contain his joy.
“Do you remember the loud fiouh and then bam? It was me!! Akaashi had passed the most perfect ball and I hit it so hard it went right on the line!!”
He looks at his friend and beams when he sees a light smile when he answers “Yes, I remember that.” There is a pause and then. “Actually I could notice which spike was yours since you cheered even louder when they scored.”
Bokuto laughs happily, nodding. Indeed, he had been cheering loudly each time they scored in this game, and extra loud when it was thanks to him. He wanted his friend to know when they were scoring and found out screaming did the trick. He knew his voice would stand out enough for Kenma to hear.
As they arrive at the ice truck, he stops and asks. “What flavor do you want? There’s strawberry, vanilla, chocolate, mint-“ He begins listing but Kenma stops him.
“Chocolate will be fine.”
Bokuto orders their treats and starts walking away once the blond has a firm grip on his ice cream. He frowns. “Do you want me to feed you? It’s going to melt and make a mess.”
Kenma's cheeks become red as he turns to him in an attempt to glare. “I’m capable enough to eat ice cream by myself Koutarou.”
The grey-haired man shrugged, tasting his own sweet before leading them again. “Oh! Let’s sit here to eat.” He jogs a bit to a free place in the park. “There no bench and it’s grass.”
Even after the warning, he doesn’t let go of Kenma’s hand before they are both properly seated. As the wind caresses them, he can’t help but smile, looking at his friend. He’s really happy to be there with Kenma, enjoying a good day.
The wind takes the blond off guard as his hair flies around his face, sticking into the ice cream. Bokuto winces. “Told you I should help you! You’ve got ice cream all over your hair now.”
He scoots closer, taking Kenma’s ice cream away from his hold. With one hand he tries to swipe off the cream on the blond’s hair and laughs slightly at his scrunched nose.
“Now, don’t be silly. Let me helped you.”
“It’s just ice cream, Kou.”
“Yeah, and you're spilling it everywhere. So now, open your mouth.”
“No.” Kenma’s cheeks are now crimson and his hands are crossed against his chest, display of his discontentment.
Bokuto groans. “Fine. Here take it, but don’t come at me when your hair will be all gross and sticky.”
They finally eat their ice cream, chatting happily about the game. Koutarou can’t help but look at how beautiful Kenma is, a small smile spread over his face, mouth slightly covered with ice cream. He waits for them to finish their sweets before scooting closer, wiping Kenma’s mouth with a handkerchief.
“Koutarou?”
“Yes, Kenma?”
“Can I touch your face?” He asks in a small voice, hesitant. His whole face is red now, and Bokuto swears his is too.
He stops mid-gesture, blinking.
“I want to know how you look.” He explains.
Thinking about it, it is a fair demand. It’s been a few months since he met Kenma but he had never thought the blond didn’t know how he looked. Yet, it’s obvious. He can’t know.
He met Kenma at a kind of party Testurou had prepared for his birthday. It wasn’t a big one his friend had warned, because he didn’t want his best friend to feel out of place. The moment he looked at the blond, Bokuto knew it was Tetsurou’s best friend. Of course, he knew he was blind, but he kept making little mistakes, not being very considerate.
But Kenma didn’t take offense. He actually laughed, saying it was okay. He learned with time that Kenma is glad he doesn’t act as if he’s sick, just acting normally. So they quickly became friends and spent more and more time together.
But he never asked Bokuto how he looked, so the boy just assumed he knew. He felt pretty dumb not thinking about it until now.
“Koutarou? Are you okay?” Kenna’s soft voice brings him back out of his thoughts. “You don’t have to if you don’t want, it’s okay.”
He doesn’t know why he is so flustered. It’s not the first time Kenma and he touch each other. They hug a lot, and Bokuto always leads him by taking his hand. So letting his friend touch his face shouldn’t be any different, right?
“No!” He nearly yells, retracting his hand from Kenma’s face. His loud voice startles the blond who jumps a bit and winces. “Sorry. I meant. No, you can, it’s okay.”
His voice is now calmer, almost a murmur as he remembers Kenma has more sensitive ears than anybody. He moves to place himself in front of his friend and waits.
Kenma is sitting leg crossed, eyes not moving, as usual, hands settled on his knees. He isn’t moving, staying silent. When Bokuto understands he indicates quickly.
“Ah, I’m in front of you, you can- Hm... I mean you- Go on!” He stutters face getting redder and redder. Kenma chuckles making his heart flutter.
Slowly, the blond raises his hands, putting them on his shoulders. When he lets go, searching for his face, his hands land on his ears. Bokuto laughs, feeling his heart being filled by a strange feeling so warm he thinks he is about to melt.
There’s a smile on Kenma’s face as he lowers his hands, cupping his cheeks. His hands are small and long. It’s a bit sticky and cold from the ice cream that had melted earlier, but he doesn’t care. The touch is so light and careful that he can’t help but smile too.
Kenma caresses his nose with his thumbs, going up to his brows. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, but Bokuto keeps his cool, looking at his friend. He is still smiling, the prettiest smile he has ever seen.
“Argh, Kenma.” He whines, plunging his head into the blond’s shoulder, neck and ears turning crimson. The blond jumps but laughs, encircling his arms around him.
“What is it, Kou?” He asks, biting his lips.
“You’re so pretty it’s not fair,” he grumbles against the shirt. He feels Kenma’s giggle but stays hidden. He hears his friend scratching his throat before scolding him teasingly.
“Well, you can see it every day. It’s my turn to know how pretty you are now so shut up and stay still.”
But the words only embarrass him further as he yelps. “Kenmaaa!”
Kenma laughs again, pushing him away tenderly. Bokuto lets him do as he pleases, putting some space between them so he can continue his investigation. His hands are now in his hair, ruffling them.
“They feel weird.” He bits his lip, probably holding him from laughing out loud. So Bokuto pouts.
“They’re really cool, thank you very much. They are spiky and grey!! Well, not totally grey now, since my black roots grew up.”
Kenma hums, nodding slightly. He lowers his hands, to his eyes, and gently passes his thumbs on them, forcing him to close them. He doesn’t mind though.
“They are gold!” He specified. “Just like yours. Well, yours are prettier because they shine.”
He opens his eyes as the thumbs retract. Kenma is pouting, lips swollen and nose up in the air. He’s about to say something when Bokuto interrupts him, chuckling.
“You’re even cuter when you pout. It makes me want to kiss you.” The admission makes his heart miss a beat and his cheeks become even redder if it is possible.
The blush creeping onto Kenma’s cheeks makes him beam, his smile reaching his ears. And he can’t help himself, he closes the space between them and plants a kiss on Kenma’s nose.
When he parts, Kenma’s hands are still on his cheeks but his frown is deeper. Bokuto thinks for a moment that he went too far, that he invaded Kenma’s space. But then, the blond says firmly.
“If you want to do something Koutarou, do it right.”
He pulls him in, crashing their lips together. Bokuto is stunned first, eyes widen in surprise. But then, Kenma's lips move against his, hands even softer on his skin. He closes his eyes and responds to the kiss.
Putting his own hands on Kenma’s cheeks, he tilts his head to make it easier. And as warm lips devour each other, he feels his heartbeat quicken and he smiles. The corners of Kenma’s mouth tilt up in response, making it harder to kiss. But it doesn’t prevent them from doing it anyway, planting soft kisses after soft kisses quickly. They both laugh, sharing air and opening their eyes.
“Did I do it right this time?” He asks, voice shaking from joy.
“You idiot.” Kenma laughs, putting another small kiss on his lips.