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For the amount of time Kenma used to dedicate to a high-intensity sport, he sure isn't reaping any athletic benefits.
He's probably just not suited for the active life. Which is why he told himself years ago, right after he graduated from high school and retired from volleyball, that he was never going to get into a sport again.
Unfortunately, he had to make the most contrarian decision ever and choose a rising star athlete as his boyfriend, so it seems like life isn't going exactly how he planned it in the end.
"You couldn't have chosen an easier route?" Kenma hisses as he nearly gets his foot caught on a crawling tree root again. He glares at the back of Atsumu's skull and hopes he can sense it, but judging by the happy hum Atsumu just let out, he was unsuccessful.
"This is the only route," Atsumu informs, and he sounds much too cheerful for sharing such a devastating piece of information. "If there was a proper path paved, then it'd probably be a lot more crowded, which would suck! Every time I come here, I pretty much never see another soul."
"That's how all horror movies start."
Atsumu just laughs again. "We're almost there, I promise."
The reassurance isn't exactly reassuring, but Kenma sighs and accepts it anyway. The things he does for his boyfriend…
When Atsumu had brought up the idea of a camping date, Kenma's immediate reaction was to deny him. There's bugs, exertion, hiking, packing… If this was a choice-based game, choosing camping would immediately deplete all of Kenma's stats, like Energy and Happiness. Of course, Atsumu also knows of Kenma's general distaste for nature and wasn't forcing the idea onto him either.
But then, offhandedly, Atsumu had added, It's something 'Samu and I do every year the night before our birthday. But he's busy with the shop, so we can't do it this year.
Before Kenma could even think it through, an agreement was already slipping from his tongue.
So that's how he's here. Not without much grumbling, because the bag over his shoulder is way too heavy and this path is way too steep. He's not convinced that this is a 'simple hill', as Atsumu put it. Maybe they're actually scaling a mountain, and Atsumu kept it a secret from him because he's a dick.
They pause at some point to drink some water and rest their weary legs. Kenma wipes at his forehead, grimacing at the sheen of sweat he can feel on his palm afterwards. This really is unfortunate. It's not even the hottest part of the year, but he's always sweat easily, which just makes the whole experience more miserable.
"What do you guys even do when you're camping?" he asks, reaching up to put his hair into a ponytail. Honestly, he should have done that before they began the trek. Hopefully the temperatures get a little more bearable once they're more elevated.
"Hm… Eat. We try to set up a campfire too, but 'Samu always gives up on manually startin' one and uses a lighter."
"I understand his perspective."
"It's more fun to try to start one by yerself!" Atsumu insists, a grin already spreading on his face. "I'll show ya later!"
Kenma hides a smile behind his water bottle. He doesn't expect any less.
To Kenma's relief, the rest of the hike passes by relatively smoothly with pretty much no mishaps. Except for the one moment where Atsumu was jumpscared by a critter running by and narrowly avoided falling over and eating shit, but.
Still, Kenma is more than grateful to finally arrive at a the top.
The first thing he feels is the breeze on his face. It's a cooling, gentle thing that kisses his skin, bringing his heated body temperature down. Atsumu hurries forward to a small clearing, spreading his arms out in excitement. He turns on his heel to grin at Kenma, and Kenma's exhausted heart is soothed at the simple sight.
"Made it again!" Atsumu cheers, glancing at his phone for the time. "With a whole two hours to spare!"
Kenma dumps his bag onto the ground, stretching his arms over his head. His joints pop like firecrackers, and Atsumu wrinkles his nose. He digs into his own bag to pull out a large mat, laying it on the ground. They prop their bags up against a tree trunk so they can lean back on something more comfortably, and then Kenma takes out the onigiri balls and other food that they've packed for the trip.
The view isn't too bad either. It's mostly nature, but there's the faintest hints of citylife past all the grass and greenery, blurry like the tiniest beacon of light amidst the darkness.
"We used to bring a flag and plant it right there," Atsumu says, gesturing to a spot a little further down the hill.
Kenma snorts. "Like you guys were landing on the moon?"
"Cooler than landing on the moon. We made the flag ourselves with 'Miya' on it and everything. But it's always gone by the time we come up the next year. Probably because of the rain or somethin'."
Kenma leans his head onto Atsumu's shoulder. "Why didn't you bring one this time, then? We could've planted it down together."
"...I did, actually."
A surprised laugh bubbles out of Kenma's chest. Atsumu digs into his bag, pulling out a wooden pole with some white fabric clumsily tied onto the ends. It's not bad for a homemade flag, but it's definitely flimsy—Kenma can see why it wouldn't last a year in the wild. On the fabric, written with thick black marker, is Miya.
"Ah, I didn't bring another marker, though. Can't write yer name." Atsumu pouts, spinning the pole between his fingers.
Kenma doesn't even hesitate. He takes the flag from Atsumu, holding it up to the moonlight. "It's fine. I don't mind being referred to as Miya either."
"...Are ya sayin—"
"Where do you stick it? There?" Kenma rises to his feet, scurrying away before Atsumu can complete his question.
He hears Atsumu's indignant yell from behind him. "Oi! Kenma, ya can't just say that ya want my last name!"
Digging his teeth into his lower lip, Kenma ignores him and hurries along. He finds a spot up ahead where the soil is a little softer, and with all his strength, jams the flag pole into the ground. Afterwards, he reaches for a few pebbles nearby, stacking it around the pole to stabilise it at least a little bit.
The flag sways in the wind, mighty despite its tiny size. Quite admirable, honestly.
A few seconds later, Atsumu has caught up to him and squats down next to him. He's still pouting, and when Kenma looks closer, he can see that his cheeks are flushed pink. When they make eye contact, Atsumu scowls and says, "I'm not gonna forget what ya said."
Kenma blinks back innocently. "Said what?"
He shrieks when Atsumu tackles him, though he is careful to ensure that Kenma doesn't actually fall onto the dirty ground. His arms are wrapped tightly around Kenma's body to prevent him from tumbling over, but like this, Kenma is completely caged in his hold. Not that he really minds, he thinks, when he looks up at Atsumu's blushing face and has the privilege of being in his arms.
"Asshole," Atsumu mumbles before he leans down to seal their lips together.
Kenma loops his arms around Atsumu's neck, kissing him back and trying not to smile too hard.
Their next task for the night, as promised, is to set up a campfire. Or, at least in their case, attempt to.
Atsumu gathers most of the material while Kenma chooses a small patch on the ground, far away enough from anything they don't want catching on fire. He actually does have a lighter in his bag, but he refrains from bringing that up. Atsumu is having way too much fun picking sticks up from the ground that Kenma doesn't have the heart to ruin it.
Besides, whenever Atsumu dumps another pile of sticks and leaves by Kenma's side, he kind of feels like he's being put through a mating ritual. Not that he'd say that out loud.
After they build the mini campfire together, with a lot of engineering and struggling to maintain its shape, Atsumu grins, an excited glint in his eyes.
"The last step is the actual fire," he says, grabbing two larger pieces of wood.
Kenma stares. "Are you just going to rub those and hope that something happens?"
"I'm not hopin', I know it'll work. I've done it before!"
Kenma leans back on his palms. Sure, maybe Atsumu does know what he's talking about. Between the two of them, he's the one with more experience, after all.
Still, Kenma has only ever seen someone start a fire by rubbing sticks together in movies, so he has his doubts.
They're silent for a bit as Atsumu busies himself with the task at hand. Kenma watches at first, but after a while, his eyes begin to drift. He doesn't mean to be distracted so easily, it's just that there's only so much someone can watch this whole… thing without getting bored.
Besides, there's something else Kenma would much rather look at.
It's been dark since they started hiking, though Kenma has been using his phone's flashlight as their lightsource. Like this, he can still make out all of Atsumu's features, as well as observe all the details, like the determined crease between his eyebrows and the hints of his tongue peeking out between his lips.
Cute.
Approximately ten minutes later, after an incredible display of willpower and determination, there is still no fire.
"I have an idea," Kenma says, patting Atsumu's cheek soothingly and laughing when he receives a pout in return. "Don't give me that face. I have a lighter."
"It's not the same—!"
"Atsumu, if we do this any longer I am going to freeze to death."
"...Fine."
"I don't really know constellations or any of that stuff." Atsumu waves a vague hand in the direction of the sky. From beside him, Kenma lets out a noncommittal hum. "Never learned. They're pretty to look at, though."
Kenma can't deny that. The sky is clear tonight, but being up high like this provides an even better view of the stars that hang above. They're both laying on their backs using the mat they brought earlier, and Kenma's hoodie isn't doing much against the night's dropping temperatures, but Atsumu is a welcome warmth when cuddled next to him.
"I did want to go to space once, when I was a kid," Atsumu continues. He's just chattering aimlessly now, but Kenma doesn't mind. He enjoys the sound of Atsumu's voice—he'd probably be able to be lulled to sleep if Atsumu maintains this volume and softness. "Wanted to be an astronaut for about two days before I learned that ya'd have to study real hard. Then that dream vanished."
Kenma snickers, pressing a palm over his lips. "Who ruined your dreams so cruelly?"
"Some video online! The astronaut was talkin' about studying all her life or something, I got bored almost immediately!"
"Well," Kenma placates, still smiling. "I think volleyball is more suited for you anyway."
"Damn right."
Kenma shivers as another gust of wind blows by. The weather is truly getting temperamental—he remembers sweating rivulets not too long ago, and now, he feels like he's going to shrivel up.
But he doesn't want to crawl into the tent just yet. He wants to stay here and admire the stars with Atsumu and talk about even more aimless, useless things. The hours are passing, but time somehow feels infinite when it's just the two of them here, and Kenma wants to treasure this moment for longer.
"...Thank ya, by the way."
Kenma freezes.
Atsumu isn't looking at him, his gaze still trained on the abyssal sky. His voice is subdued, though, and there's a light pink dusting across his cheeks. In fact, everything about this moment, from the volume of his words to the expression he's wearing to the beat of Kenma's heart—it's all soft.
Kenma feels like he'll burst this bubble if he even breathes too hard, so his response is nothing more than a gentle hum.
"Ya didn't have to come. I know ya don't like doing these kinds of things, but…" Atsumu tapers off.
Kenma pushes himself up on his elbows, hovering over Atsumu. He can feel the knit between his eyebrows deepening, but he's not just going to let Atsumu lay there and assume things. What does he know about how Kenma feels about this whole thing? After all, he—
"—agreed out of my own will. I wanted to join you, even if I don't like hiking and whatever." He pokes a finger into the side of Atsumu's cheek, prompting him to make eye contact. "Don't go putting words in my mouth, idiot."
"Idiot?!"
"Yes, you. You're being dumb and silly." Kenma squeezes Atsumu's cheeks together, but his attempt at a disapproving look melts when he sees the stars reflected in Atsumu's eyes.
"Besides," he murmurs, "you said it was Miya family tradition, right? I best get used to it."
Like the universe was waiting for this exact moment, Atsumu's phone chimes with a notification. Kenma manages a glance at the screen, but the notification itself is not so important. Rather, it's the clock finally hitting twelve, officially bringing them into the fifth of October.
Kenma grins. "Happy birthday," he whispers, before leaning down to connect their lips together in a sweet, celebratory kiss.
Kenma pulls away from Atsumu to catch his breath, a thin string of saliva forming between them and making his stomach curl with hunger. He's still panting even when Atsumu lays him down on the futon, his movements slow and careful, but Kenma grimaces when he feels something uneven digging into his lower back.
"We should've brought a thicker futon," he laments. "I can feel the floor."
Atsumu laughs. "That's the campin' experience for ya."
"Horrible." Kenma attempts to adjust his position so that it's not so uncomfortable, at the very least. He's not the age he once was—his bones are brittle and frail. If he wakes up tomorrow morning sore all over, he's going to be extra grumpy. "I can't believe you do this every year. How do you even sleep in these conditions?"
Atsumu shrugs. "Guess I'm just used to it. But if it's really an issue…" His lips hover above Kenma's, inches away, and Kenma can feel his breath fanning out across his face. Atsumu's hand around his waist curls, squeezing. "Then I'd have to tire ya out until ya can sleep soundly, right?"
"Like what? You know I hate exercising."
"Don't play coy, ya bastard! Ya know what I'm tryna say!" Atsumu switches tactics, tickling Kenma's sides instead, and he squeals as a burst of sensation causes his body to jerk away, ripping a laugh out of him.
Soon enough, that laugh tapers off into a gasp as Atsumu kisses him again, this time tilting his head so that their lips slot together more smoothly. Kenma groans at the swipe of a tongue against his lips, followed by a dig of teeth. At the same time, he wraps his hands around Atsumu's neck to keep him still.
They fight over the pace for a bit, with Kenma always wanting to take things slow, just for the sake of savouring the moment. But Atsumu seems to be a little more stubborn tonight, his urge and hunger palpable, so intense that it sends shivers up Kenma's spine.
He tenses when he feels Atsumu's hands crawling under his hoodie, warm palms splaying over his bare skin. More of his body weight rests over Kenma, until Kenma feels like he's pinned in place, barely able to manage anything more than a wiggle of his hips or a twist of his head.
The ground is still pretty uncomfy, Kenma thinks, but before he can complain, Atsumu pulls back.
In one swift motion, his hands are wrapping around Kenma's wrists and tugging him upwards. He switches their positions until he's the one laying on his back instead, bringing Kenma up to sit on his lap. Kenma nearly falls over from the sudden motion, hands planting down beside Atsumu's head, blinking rapidly as he tries to figure out what's going on.
"Ya don't wanna lay on the ground, right?" Atsumu guesses. His hands curve around Kenma's shoulder blades, coaxing him to lean down. "Then I'll be the one below. Ya can stay comfy and pretty on top of me."
Kenma's cheeks flush, unsure of what to address first. "I was complaining, but it wasn't actually that big of a deal. You don't have to do all that…"
"Don't care." One of Atsumu's hands finds his hair, tangling with the strands as he nudges Kenma's skull gently. "Come on. I still need to exhaust ya, hah!"
Kenma can't help but laugh, his heart feeling ridiculously fond. "Do your worst."
Atsumu makes good on his promise, and by the time they're done fooling around, Kenma's eyes can barely stay open any longer.
They're cuddled up again, this time under one futon and with the tent zipped up to keep any potential rain out. It's far from the best sleeping accommodation Kenma has had, but having Atsumu next to him is his saving grace. At the very least, his chest makes a good pillow.
"We should probably wake up a little earlier tomorrow so we have time to pack up before hikin' back down," Atsumu muses, a hand running through Kenma's hair absentmindedly.
"Ugh. Don't remind me. I can't believe we have to make the journey back."
Atsumu's chest shakes as he laughs. "It's easier going down than going up!"
"That's what you think. It's actually much more dangerous. If you read any article about the dangers of hiking, you'll learn that going down a mountain has a lot more threats than it seems, most of them invisible—"
"It's a hill, not a mountain."
Kenma rolls his eyes. The things he does for love.
Right before sleep can truly take him under, though, Kenma reaches out and interlaces their hands together. He stares at their intertwined fingers for a while, at how well their palms slide against each other and how their holds seem to simply fit, and hopes that he'll get to have moments like these for the rest of his life. He'd go on a million camping trips if it meant making Atsumu happier.
A kiss is dropped onto the crown of his forehead, softer and gentler than anything from before. This one somehow feels the most intimate, with no witness other than the two of them here, sharing this one moment together. Kenma's heart aches at the intimacy.
He presses his forehead to Atsumu's chest, listening to the strong beat of his heart, and whispers, "Goodnight."
Another kiss is rewarded. "Sweet dreams, Kenma."
("I stand corrected. Hiking is the worst experience of all time, both when you're going up and going down."
"Fine, I get it. I'll treat ya to a dessert or somethin' tonight, I promise."
"Now we're talking.")