Work Text:
The cool breeze of Zone 2 brushed past your face, a few strands of hair blowing lightly in the wind. The Batter stood silently next to you as you looked over the small cliff that led to the ocean of plastic, his arms crossed tightly over his chest with an unimpressed look on his face. You had suggested taking a small break from all the purifying, aka beating the shit out ghosts, and walking. For once, Batter had taken you on the idea and let you lead him to the cliffside. Now he was regretting his decision as the breeze blew on him, his brows furrowed heavily under the brim of his hat every time the wind blew too hard. When you suggested a break, he expected something else. He maybe thought you’d drag him to the library, at least then he could beat up any ghosts that he so happened to see.
The Batter didn’t like to stay in one place for too long, it put him on edge and made him nervous. You made him nervous. You were his player for fucks sake! You shouldn’t be standing here, you should be getting on with the damn story! Every bone and muscle in his body was tensed, holding back the urge to grab you by the scruff and pull you back to the plot. One of his fingers taps impatiently on his forearm, yet this went unnoticed by you. Your eyes were shut softly, you inhaled the scent of the air. Of course, it smelt like plastic and slight smoke, but it hadn’t bothered you yet. The scent was almost comforting to you, yet you weren’t sure why.
Maybe you had just gotten used to the smell, or, perhaps, it smelt like home. That was silly, of course. Though in a way…the scent made you feel safe, it made you feel like nothing was wrong. You decide that whatever the reason is, why ever you’ve come to like the smell of the Zones, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you were okay with it, and you were. A small clearing of a throat knocks you from your peaceful bliss, and you open your eyes to find the source of this cough; The Batter. You can feel his eyes shooting a heavy gaze through you even though they weren’t visible. Your eyes gaze back, though your look is much softer. As your brows furrow you frown a little “What? Are you not enjoying this moment, Mr. Batter?” you question, your voice having just a tinge of mischievousness. Though the heavy sarcasm covers that mischievousness.
Batter groans, leaning his head back to the sky. “We should be getting on with the story, dammit,” he grumbles with annoyance dripping from his tone. You whine in playfulness, turning to him with a pout on your face. He doesn’t face back to you, but he knows what you’re doing. You always pouted when he complained about anything, in honesty, you pouted at anything you could. His mouth turns to a grimace, his brows furrowing even deeper than before. Another whine is flung from your lips, your pout intensifying as you whine louder. The Batter grips his arms tightly as he pulls his shoulders up, his jaw clenched tightly as he groans through gritting teeth. Batter knew you needed to start going again, but goddammit if your stupid ass pout didn’t make him want to let you do what you wanted… Another grumble leaves his mouth before he sighs out “...Fine.” and you jump with joy, literally. You giggle happily as you wrap your arms around The Batter in a hug, smiling up at him gratefully.
He turns his head away from you, pulling the brim of his hat to cover his cheeks that began to burn. “Don’t think this will be a normal occurrence, we’ve got to continue…” He mutters as his stomach turns with embarrassment. A few of the Elsen that had been sitting around the cliffside, doing the same as you, glance over as you giggle profusely. You’re almost vibrating with giddiness, so much to the point you almost don’t notice how Batter’s face is beginning to glow with a blush.
When you start to calm down, you notice his glowing cheeks as well as his poor attempt to hide it. His jaw clenches even tighter, if that’s possible when your giggling pauses. Your eyes are now fixated on his embarrassed expression, and a mischievous grin creeps up your face. You stand on the tips of your shoes, leaning as close as you can to Batter’s face. “Is someone embarrassed?” You sing out, making sure to emphasize ‘embarrassed’. He doesn’t respond, his eyes looking off into the distance as if he now finds the ocean interesting. Batter swallows harshly when your voice drops to a faint whisper, only one that someone as close as him could hear “What’s wrong, love? Did I fluster you?’
That’s it, you’ve killed him, Batter is now dead and it’s your fault. The Batter’s face is now as red as a cherry, his breathing stiffened as he slowly brings his gaze to you. You’re just so… close. It makes his heart race with how you look at him, a hidden look of yearning in his eyes. As if you could read his mind, you place a hand on his shoulder and tilt your head slightly. That stupid smirk never leaves your lips, and now, he thinks, would be the perfect time to wipe it off. A tense swallow is given from him, your stiff breaths lingering in the air.
Batter pulls his hat off, holding it to the side of your face. Effectively blocking the view from anyone looking. His free hand falls to your lower back, and he pushes you forward gently. Your lips fall into his, in a nervous, yet loved fill kiss. Of course, you reciprocate. Your hands slide up to cup his cheeks tenderly, and you feel yourself smile into the short kiss.
Batter pulls back first, his eyes meeting yours in an equally as flustered gaze. You blink, and then you smile. “You should do that more often.” You giggle, and Batter averts his gaze quickly.
“...Only if you’re lucky.” He mumbles as a small smile creeps onto his face.