Chapter Text
--0--
I'm a little sun shy when the sun shines on the wrong day
And I believe my bed is a constant bearer of these sun shades
- "Sun Shy" by Dresses
--0--
Kenma, in the living room, on the couch, in his pajamas with a 3DS.
That’s the (Clue™) scene Kageyama found himself walking into after he finished his afternoon classes.
Kageyama dropped off his backpack in his room, changed to long-sleeve and drawstring sweatpants, and then went into the kitchen to grab a juice box and small milk carton. He made his way back to the living room and saw that Kenma had not moved an inch. The only sign that he acknowledged Kageyama’s presence was the small thanks he gave when he accepted the apple juice.
Kageyama sat down next to him with his own drink, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence as Kenma played his game and Kageyama flipped through the channels of their TV, the volume set low.
After what seemed like an hour, Kageyama stretched out the kinks in his back before settling back down. He glanced over to see Kenma’s progress on his game and noticed something.
“Is that Marshal from my file?”
If Kenma was surprised he didn’t show it as he continued talking to the villager in question.
“He was moving out of your town anyways, so I invited him to come live in mine.”
Kenma had bought him the same game from what started off as a “you’re hogging my file, I’ll get you one so you can build your own” excuse, but what may actually have been a disguised notion of pulling him into a personal hell of catering to villagers’ requests and paying off a loan shark in the form of a tanuki. The gardening work had a surprising cathartic effect, and they both agreed he would be less likely to rage quit on this game. (As long as one is mindful of where one sets up the paths).
And if Kenma was more attentive when it comes to Marshal than the other villagers, he didn’t comment on that either. Soon, Kageyama found himself drifting off to the “5 PM” soundtrack of the game. This was becoming an all too familiar routine.
Hey Kenma,
I like being around you.
--0--
To be fair, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
“This is harder than it looks.”
“This shouldn’t be so difficult, it’s like walking!”
Kageyama pushed off from the skating rink’s walls and glided a couple of feet before he overcompensated with his weight, initial momentum lost as he wind-milled his arms in an attempt to maintain his balance.
Kenma kept a firm grip on the rink’s edge and took cautious steps, “just like walking…but on ice.”
The sun perched at its highest peak above the horizon and the biting winter winds absent resulting in a “too nice of a day to spend it all indoors”-type of weather. Or, at least, that’s what Yaku reasoned as he ushered both he and Kageyama out of the apartment. Ironic, considering how Yaku didn't even live there, but he the leading advocate for this day out, and insisted that this would be a good opportunity for them to get to know each other better.
“Hey, I think I’m getting the hang of this.”
Kageyama’s face scrunched up in concentration as he carefully moved his feet, one ice skate in front of the other. It was that same focus, Kenma noted, that Kageyama had when he was determined to get results. Sure, Kageyama lacked the grace of the figure skaters that glided around like it was second nature to them, but what he lacked in finesse he made up for in effort.
.
.
“- your hand?”
Kenma, lost in his personal musings, only heard the last part.
“Huh?”
Kageyama’s stare was focused on Kenma, his outstretched hand reaching toward him. Was he implying for Kenma to skate out to him? If so, no thanks. He’s perfectly content holding onto the rails and going at a snail’s pace if it meant he didn’t have to fall.
Kageyama made a move to skate closer to him, but whatever amiable force that kept Kageyama upright for so long seemed to have given up on him as he lost his balance and fell flat on his butt.
“Ouch, dammit.” Kageyama winced from the impact of his fall and the invasive cold seeping into his pants from the ice underneath him.
“Are you okay?” Kenma’s voice was much closer than it had been earlier.
In a flurry of panic and concern, Kenma – probably against his better judgment if he looked back on this – let go of the rails and clumsily skated to where Kageyama fell.
“Yeah,” Kageyama huffed out, “help me up?” He made a grab for Kenma’s hand and pulled, but it seemed gravity had a penchant for creating awkward situations as Kenma, not bracing himself to pull up Kageyama’s entire weight, fell right on top of him.
“Oof!”
.
.
That probably should hurt.
But.
Instead of the cold and hard ice, Kageyama felt a soft and warm body. A really warm body.
Kenma placed a gloved hand on Kageyama’s shoulder and leaned back, a cover up attempt to put some distance between them. His cheeks taking on a pink hue.
“We should get up, people are going to stare.” Kenma muttered.
Whatever attempt to dispel the awkwardness that surrounded them was lost on Kenma as Kageyama hesitantly brought his arms up to enclose him in a hug. Kageyama leaned in and placed his forehead on Kenma’s shoulder, effectively hiding his own flustered state.
He noticed how Kenma left what security he felt gripping the rink’s edge to go check if he was all right. Kenma was worried about him...
“…Kageyama?”
He turned slightly to look only at Kenma’s side profile, not lifting his head from the warmth the shoulder provided.
.
.
Exhale.
A puff of hot air that creates a cloud.
Inhale.
From the shared breathing space between us.
Hey Kenma,
I like how warm it feels when you’re near.
--0--
“Here’s your order.”
Kageyama placed the slice of apple pie and hot chocolate on Kenma’s side of the table while he took up the seat across from him with a warm bowl of soup and a glass of water.
“Thank you.” Kenma gladly accepted his sweets and they fell into a comfortable conversation about academics (finals were coming up), chores (it was Kenma’s turn to do laundry), and groceries (emergency restock on apple juice - of the utmost priority).
A pleasant atmosphere, that is until someone upsets the balance.
“It’s gotten pretty cold, huh?” Kenma began as he stirred his hot chocolate. Maybe Kageyama was getting used to it, but he no longer had to lean in or ask the other to speak up. He could even single out the soft timber of Kenma’s voice in a place as crowded as this café.
He watched as Kenma brought the drink near his lips and blew a bit of the steam away before taking a tentative sip. Kenma’s hair, growing well past his shoulders now (maybe he should get it cut), and how he tucks stray locks behind his ear (or maybe not). And Kenma’s hands, how soft and small his hands are (the very same hands that an entire team relied on back then). And probably the worst (best?) were the mesmerizing eyes that he found himself physically abstaining from staring into for too long.
Kageyama was suddenly too hyper aware of everything around them. Or, maybe no, not everything around them. Just very aware of one person in particular.
Kenma continued, “It’s gotten cold but,” golden eyes flickered up and held his own captive, “it’s also…warmer now too.”
Kageyama chewed slowly, and broke eye contact. He painfully swallowed the spoonful that was harder to stomach than the rest.
Hey Kenma,
I...think I’m falling for you.
--0--
even on a cold, winter day
the sun hiding in the clouds
two bodies gravitate closer
and keep each other warm