Work Text:
Kenshi Takahashi has picked up a new hobby.
Johnny Cage has picked up
on
Kenshi’s new hobby.
Listen, in Kenshi’s defense, clay isn’t expensive. And in Johnny’s, it’s the
least
he can do.
So every Saturday, they meet up and Johnny lets Kenshi pick out clay at Hobby Lobby. It’s embarrassing to be seen in, but Johnny doesn’t care. The worst thing that could happen would be some fans walking up and taking pictures without either of them knowing, but even then, he’d take that. If it meant Kenshi was happy and got his fucking clay, then he’d let millions of fans take pictures with him unaware.
“Johnny?” Kenshi speaks up, his voice as blunt as always. Probably just looking for Johnny, wherever he was. I mean, it was hard to look for people with no sight. “Yeah- I’m here, Ken.” He said, white woman jogging the short distance back up the aisle to gently grasp Kenshi’s hand. Kenshi tilted his head, clearly confused. Normally, he’d put his hand on Johnny’s shoulder, or grab
his
forearm.
But no. This time, Johnny wrapped his warm fingers around Kenshi’s calloused palm. It was an awkward position, yes, but Kenshi found himself wanting more of it. He tried to put his fingers down on Johnny’s hand, only for Johnny to clear his throat and pull away.
“Sorry. Slipped.” He chuckled nervously. Kenshi scoffed, grabbing the clay he had picked out and putting his hand on Johnny’s forearm. Johnny, of course, took this as a sign to walk to self checkout. At this point, he’d already bought a joint membership card to Hobby Lobby, despite Kenshi’s best wishes.
”Johnny. Don’t waste your money on me.”, ”Johnny, I don’t need this.”, ”...For me?? Why?”
But of course, just like everything else, Johnny would get his way. He loved getting things for Kenshi, seeing the way his face lit up, seeing the way his face would twitch trying not to smile, the sighs he’d fake- To die for.
He quickly swiped his card, throwing the bag of clay over his shoulder as he led Kenshi back to his car. Johnny opened the passenger door and motioned towards the seat. “Ladies first.” He purred, snickering quietly.
Kenshi let out a huff, lightly kicking Johnny’s foot before getting in the car. Johnny shut it, walking to the back seat on the passenger side to put the bag down. After, he bolted to the drivers side and got in, buckling his seatbelt with a quiet click and starting the car.
“Where too, now?” He looked over at Kenshi, the hum of his dark blue sports car filling the air. Of course, he didn’t really mind being Kenshi’s personal uber. He’d drive him to the ends of the earth if that’s what Kenshi really wanted. “Uh.. that coffee shop you like so much. Take us there. There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk about.” Kenshi spoke, looking out of the window and adjusting his sunglasses. If you could even call them that. They were shaped super weird, and blocked Kenshi’s vision completely. Well, if he could see they would’ve.
Johnny just about had a heart attack at Kenshi’s words. Had he fucked up? Did he make Kenshi uncomfortable with the constant pickup lines? Though his face didn’t show it, he clearly was scared.
It couldn’t be anything bad, he reassured himself. Just need to get it over with.
Johnny took the car out of park, not even bothering to respond to Kenshi. He knew that he preferred silence over the loud conversations Johnny was so used to.
They made it to the cafe, parking in the back so no one could really notice him. Not that anyone looked anymore. He walked around to the passenger side, opening Kenshi’s door and grinning.
“After you,” He chuckled nervously. “What are you gonna get?” Johnny asked, making small talk while they walked the short distance to the doors. “Tea.” Kenshi once again answered bluntly. Johnny snickered, then laughed. A second later, Kenshi laughed with him. Johnny’s heart practically melted at the sight of it.
So perfect.
He smiled gently, opening the door for Kenshi and picking a table for them to sit at. After they ordered and it took a little too long, Johnny ranted about whatever. He had a tendency to do that when he was nervous, and hell if it wasn’t obvious.
But after a minute, it does get to a point. “..Kenshi?” He raised his eyebrows.
“What?” The swordsman replied, head slightly moving left and right as he smelled and heard everything going on in the cafe. Johnny sighed quietly, chuckling and tapping on the table. “You said you had something to tell me. Some time this year, please?” He joked.
“Right. Alright, well, there’s no easy way to say this.” Kenshi huffed. Johnny’s smile slowly faltered and he cleared his throat. “You’re scaring me, Kendoll. Spit it out already.” He muttered. After a minute of just staring at each other, Kenshi smirked- then laughed?!
Johnny couldn’t contain a laugh, grumbling and smiling at the same time. “You’re not funny! Did you seriously just pull that bullshit just to scare me?!” He exclaimed, lightly slapping Kenshi’s hand. “No,” Kenshi said through laughs. “I actually.. Wanted to ask you for a favor.”
“Oh-” Johnny had a grin plastered onto his face as he tilted his head. “C’mon, man. Spit it out!” He said, hitting Kenshi’s hand again. He looked back up to the others face, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw his face flushed. He cleared his throat, putting a finger under Kenshi’s chin to look at his face. He furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to speak. “Hey? Are you-”
“Can I make you a piece.” He said sternly, sounding more commanding than asking. Johnny blinked, tilting his head again. “I don’t-” He chuckled nervously. The blood rushing to Kenshi’s cheeks had to be contagious. “I want to sculpt your face, Johnny. It’s a yes or no question, don’t be stupid about this.” He huffed, voice sounding angry despite the look on his face.
Johnny was quiet for a minute. He wasn’t really thinking about anything, more just wanting to get back at Kenshi. After about 30 more seconds, Kenshi pinched Johnny’s hand and scoffed. “I asked you a simple question, Cage. Yes or no?!”
Johnny scoffed mockingly in return, holding onto his hand dramatically. “How dare you, Takahashi!” He exclaimed, putting a hand over his forehead, closing his eyes and falling backwards. “I think I’ll be sick. Now you’ll have to sculpt me. It’ll be on my tombstone.” He opened an eye, sighing wistfully. “..So yes, right?” Kenshi asked bluntly, unamused by Johnny’s antics.
The drinks arrived, and Johnny grinned. “Yeah. It’s a yes.”